#took a while to do but it was time well spent
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threeacttragedy · 1 day ago
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Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean
My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).
But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.
My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.
Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.
So, how did I get here?
Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.
My first entry to the timeline?
July 20, 2024.
What happened on that date?
Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –
HOLD UP!
HOLD THE FUCK UP!!
OH SHIT!!
YES!
YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.
JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.
*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”
Okay, back to July 20.
On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!
But, all’s fair in love and war, right?
JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.
So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.
Curious, that.
Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.
You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.
JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.
And, Nicola liked it.
Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.
Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.
To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.
Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.
What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.
And, side-eye I did!
I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your
” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “
just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?
If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).
Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.
At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?
On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.
Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.
Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”
Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.
First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.
Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.
Let’s keep moving.
That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.
Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”
WAIT A MINUTE!
Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?
Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.
And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.
Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.
Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).
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endursent · 7 hours ago
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My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (2)
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【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】
【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】
【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty
" 】
【 note; made the genshin version... no reason for this to be like 19 pages 😭 】
【 word count; 8.723 | read on ao3 | hsr version】
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Alhaitham ;
Kaveh gaped at you when you brought a cat into the house, one that
 looked eerily similar to a certain blockhead. “I can explain,” you say as you set the cat down on the floor, he doesn’t enter the house further than you do, instead sitting down by your feet and observing the interaction with
 interest? Amusement
? 
  Kaveh didn’t need much to be convinced, and immediately he thanked the Archons for giving him a few days of respite. Even just a few days of Alhaitham being unable to comment on what he does or nag him is a blessing.
  For you, it’s a bit of a hassle
 because he keeps disappearing! Not in an alarming way, because you find him again in the most secluded, quiet spots you would never even think of. Under your laundry, in an empty box that Kaveh hadn’t put away after getting a delivery, and even under the desk in the study—Kaveh accidentally kicked him and got a feisty scratch on his ankle. He learned his lesson. 
  He follows you around and—though he let you pick him up the first time—doesn’t let you carry him around, preferring to walk on his own
 and wander off to explore nooks and crannies he has never been able to see, but he always shows up again before you reach your destination. 
  He has also claimed your pillow as his own and refuses to let you use it, loafing on top of it exactly when you thought you could get there before him. Which
 in hindsight is fine, you’re not opposed to using his pillow, it smells like him after all. 
  You decided to test how much of a cat he really is, whether it’s appearance alone or instinctual as well and bought a cat toy with a whisker on the end as well as a small bell below it. You expected him to perk up and try to whack or catch it as soon as you wriggled it beside him
 but his grey furred ears just lowered in annoyance and he hopped off the kitchen counter, it seems like having even more sensitive ears in this state makes his dislike for uncomfortable noises more intense. 
  He forgave you when you spent ten minutes scratching the itchy spot behind his ears after tracking him down. A small, rumbling purr left his chest as you moved your hand to scratch under his chin—he was, however, more curious about this instinctual reaction and demanded you continue after you drew your hand back.     Despite it being very much an unspoken rule between the two of you that neither of you should be disturbed ‘needlessly’ when reading or working at home, when you borrowed a few books from the Akademiya to try and figure out how to turn your partner back to normal, Alhaitham decided it would be very reasonable for him to lay down over your book
 which you are very much trying to read.
  But when you ask him what he needs, he just blinks at you three times, very slowly. You’ll likely never be able to crack that brain of his, even in a form that is somehow far more expressive.
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Arataki Itto ;
It’s difficult enough to keep track of him—and keep him out of trouble—on a normal day
 now? You took your eyes off him for a second, and he’s gone. Shinobu split up with you to cover more ground while the rest of the gang scoured the streets of Inazuma City, at least as much as they could.
  You peek between baskets, crates and stalls, walk through tight alleys and even squint into a few windows
 nothing!
  You had been very close to giving up and returning back to the meeting point by the bridge
 until you heard a very distressed, very loud meowing. Following the sound, you come to a tree stretching over the gardens of a teahouse. What looks to be the owner of it stands below the tree with a basket, trying to ask Itto—stuck up on a wobbling branch—to jump into it.
  Exasperation is one way to describe what you feel as you approach the old lady, you put your hands on your hips and Itto notices you immediately. His meowing turns from frantic and panicked
 to a sheepish pleading. Every movement he makes causes the branch to sway and wobble, and it looks like it could easily bend and break—and you don’t want to cause any trouble for the teahouse owner. “Itto, come on, hop down.”
  He meows and shakes his head, white fur swishing dramatically. 
  A sigh leaves you as you step closer and hold your arms open. “I’ll catch you, trust me,” you encourage him
 and he finally relents, with wobbling paws, he leaps from the branch—fur shining in the sun as he practically flies in the air towards your open arms
 and lands on your head. He panics and tries to adjust and not fall off, and you try to pry him away from your face as his belly nearly suffocates you—it’s a scene from a comedic play.
  Shinobu is glad for her mask, because when you return with Itto under your arm you have scratches on your face and forehead, and Itto is whining and meowing sorrowfully. 
  He spends the entire evening licking your ‘wounds’, dragging his coarse cat tongue over every spot so often that the licking starts to become more painful than the scratches themselves. But you let him, it makes him feel much better than you—and you don’t particularly need comfort, but if he doesn’t get it, he will whine all night. 
  So you let him knead your thighs and stomach even as his claws prick through your clothes and you make sure to pet him and stroke his fur when he snuggles against you
 and then you wake up in the middle of the night, suffocating with his furred belly against your face when the lies on top of you.
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Baizhu ;
You’re very happy that Baizhu is catching a break—something you often try to convince him to do—despite the strange way of being forced into it
 however, it’s very difficult to focus on running the pharmacy in his place by yourself while also trying to make sure he doesn’t roll off the shelf he’s napping on
 especially because Changsheng wriggles in her sleep and keeps nudging him closer to the edge.
  You decide it’s easier if you have them sleeping on separate surfaces and reach up to pick up your pliant partner-turned-cat. He effectively falls into your arms and blinks lazily, slightly confused by the sudden transport. “Just moving you so you don’t hit your head,” you dodge around Qiqi as she runs past you with an armful of jars and set Baizhu down on the counter, his tail sways lazily and he immediately flops on his side as a beam of sunlight sneaks through the window and directly onto his fur.
  Every time a customer comes by—with approval—they give Baizhu a small pet or scratch before leaving, as if paying tribute to the good doctor. He doesn’t seem to mind.
  Unfortunately, you’re not fit to take Baizhu’s place for consultations, and thus they all get delayed—which was a hell of a lot of work to contact everyone and change scheduling—until Baizhu is back to normal. The usual hours of consultation in the morning are therefore replaced with longer opening hours of the pharmacy and by pulling some strings, an increased stock of rarer products at a discounted price. 
  Changsheng does not let poor Baizhu catch a break, she wiggles her tail and swipes it in front of his paws, and unable to control the feline instincts harbouring his body—Baizhu chases after her tail like a kitten playing with a toy. He whacks at it and tries to capture it, but the white snake is far quicker than even you expected her to be as a sudden game of cat and mouse (snake) takes over your living room.
 The feline form, however, doesn’t come with free stamina—and Baizhu is not in good shape. He flops down on the carpet, exhausted from the play even as only seven minutes have passed. You feel a bit bad and scoop him up for some cuddling, which seems to be just the remedy he needed. 
  Baizhu is very careful around the clinic, he doesn’t knock anything over—even though he REALLY wants to sometimes, and is mindful of not getting fur or saliva on anything that could potentially be consumed by anyone with allergies. Changsheng has taken to wrapping herself around your shoulders instead, and though you’re used to her, it’s a little annoying to get a comment on every little thing you do. 
  But at the end of the day, Baizhu curls up next to you and you wake with him lying over your chest, belly to the skies and paws in the air, comfortable and content. Though you will always prefer him in his normal state, he is very cute like this.
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Cyno ;
You look around the large front hall of the House of Daena, panting slightly as you try to catch your breath
 that damn Cyno! Making you chase him across the entire city! 
  You spot some pawprints and squint as you look around
 he’s not bringing all that dirt into the house—you were just going to rinse him a bit, but he’s run off! You finally spot dark and creamy coloured fur
 perched up high on a massive decorative piece of the wall. He looks down at you with a swaying tail, completely at ease knowing that you won’t be able to catch him all the way up there.
  You almost consider inquiring about one of those massive ladders the library has to reach the high shelves, it might be long enough

  But very well, he wins this round. 
  Once he turned into a cat, you were very excited about petting him, rubbing his ears and stroking his tail—but he’s not having any of it. Sometimes, you wonder if someone stuck a firework in his ass and lit it up, because the bouts of zoomies he gets is so frequent you wondered if there was something wrong—but you couldn’t catch him to take to a vet either! 
  After the first few days, Cyno seems to calm down
 a little. He still prefers to survey the area (your living room) from above (your bookshelf) and watch you go about your day. It’s quite cute how his perked ears twitch every time you make a noise, as if he’s completely focused on what you’re doing.
  You soon find out after stepping a bit too close to the bookshelf that he might have just been waiting to strike, because he leaps onto your head as soon as you’re in range. 
  The only reason you know he’s fully conscious in that furred head is because while you were cleaning up after dinner, you spotted him sitting next to a cup of tea that was half-filled. You tense as you watch his paw raise to knock it off. “Cyno! Don’t,” you try to sound scolding.
  He looks up at you, he lowers his paw
 then raises it again, making you glare at him. He lowers it again, turns away
 you turn back to wiping the dishes and look over your shoulders after a few seconds—his paw is raised again!
  This back and forth continued until he finally knocked it over.
  And then he has the audacity during the next day’s dinner to sound like he has never been fed in his life while you’re trying to eat in peace. Meowing at you so loudly one would think he was terribly injured, eyes wide and mouth open. You hope your neighbours don’t think you’re trying to starve him, or treat him horribly.
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Dainsleif ;
He’s not happy about it, he has things to do—places to be and investigations to make. Thankfully you’re familiar with where you were going next
 but Dainsleif is very limited in what he can do. You decide to give him the task of scouting and sneaking around, something he’s used to doing anyway
 but he finds that it’s much more effective to do so as a cat. His footsteps are completely silent and his senses are much sharper.
  Though, he had an instinctual need to swat at a glowing orb that you found in a strange vault half-buried in a cave in Fontaine before he could stop himself—which closed the two of you inside the vault. Thankfully he is now small enough that he could slip out between the bars and unlock it from the other side.
  It is quite cute how his ears flattened as you walked out, as if he was sorry. Though he seemed okay after you scratched behind his ears and assured him it was okay, he was here to help you out after all! His tail swayed in satisfaction to your assurance.
  You start to set down camp for the night, having just one pair of hands makes it a bit more of a lengthy process, and Dainsleif can only sit and watch as you put it together. He’s usually quite distant, even in a relationship—but as you straighten from squatting to fit something down, you feel something press against your leg and see him rubbing his furry cheek against you, then walking around your legs, tail trailing behind.
  He’s usually quite wary and alert, even during the night when you try and convince him to sleep—and it’s no different now. He sits poised and ready
 for what? He’s a cat. But you appreciate the effort. 
  Surprisingly, he’s very active at grooming himself, the two of you usually have to bathe often anyway as you frequent dusty caves and muddy backwaters, but every time you make a stop, he sits down and starts licking his fur—at first you wondered if he was frustrated by something or had hurt himself, but as you picked him up to examine for any injuries or strange patches, he just blinked at you, tongue still half-hanging out.
  Dainsleif is rather laid-back when it comes to your relationship, there are times where you want to stay in a larger city for a few days or weeks in between travels, to have a soft bed and four walls around you—which Dainsleif doesn’t mind, there are places he wants to look into where he’d prefer you are safe elsewhere. He knows where you will be and will stop by to ask if you’re ready to continue days or even sometimes a few weeks later, to which you—recharged and rejuvenated—jump at the chance to follow him out of the city.
  But now, as a cat, he doesn’t leave your side for a minute—not even when you need to use nature’s bathroom. You went into a small village in Sumeru when passing through and a vendor was particularly pressing about selling you some type of perfume that you had shown brief interest in—Dainsleif had enough of you being pestered and whacked his paw at the man’s leg, hissing. He would usually be more subtle about guiding you away, but he doesn’t have the presence he usually does as he is now, so he must utilise the aggressiveness given to him in feline form. You take the chance to scoop him up and hurry away before the vendor can get upset, petting between his ears and thanking him for the help—he rubs his cheek against yours. He’s surprisingly more affectionate like this as well.
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Diluc ;
Your nose itches
 you try to hold back—achoo!!
  Diluc jumps, claws scuttling against the ground and he leaps from his resting spot and hops down to the floor. You sniffle and shake your head. “Sorry, it’s not your fault,” you stand from his chair and round the table to squat down next to him, reaching a hand out. “Did I startle you?”
  He makes a ‘hmph’ sound, fur red as freshly bloomed roses. Diluc bumps his snout into your palm and huffs into it, you turn your hand and pet along his back. “Aaah
 you’re so cute~ so soft,” you near coo as you scratch behind his ears—
  Diluc shakes himself and ducks under your hand to walk past you—how dare you baby-talk him?! He’s not an actual cat! The scritches felt too nice, and his ears flicked when you cooed at him—it’s embarrassing

  He sits down by the door, tail swaying lazily as a small meow leaves him. Let me out. 
  You pout, how can you not convey how cute he is? You want to rub his cheeks. But fine, you  walk over and open the food for him to slip out of. 
  Diluc likes the lounge around the fireplace in the estate, there’s not much work he can do  while you try to figure out how to turn him back—preferably without alerting his brother or any of the knights
 or just anyone in general. Unfortunately, he can’t hide it from the staff of the Winery as he is a spitting image of himself in cat form, and you’ve caught more than three people trying to feed him expensive cheeses. 
  It’s only in the recent days that you’ve convinced him to settle down and use the time to rest and nap as much as he can, but Diluc was extremely restless at first, you had to trap him inside a room and trick him into lying down with you.
  One day, Jean came by looking for him, and you had to think fast to come up with an excuse while he had just leapt under the sofa to hide. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to need him urgently, so she just left a message behind and went back to her day.
  You fell asleep in Diluc’s study, trying to keep up with his paperwork—Adeline offered to help you, she’s very familiar with his work, and it’s not like it’s been a long time since he wasn’t there to do it
 but you wanted to help, and as the sun sank below the horizon, you laid down on the sofa in his study next to a tall bookcase—only closing your eyes was enough to pull you into deep sleep.
  Diluc hops onto the sofa next to you, he carefully walks over your thighs and settles on the armrest where your head is. His fluffy tail sways and strokes your chin and nose—nearly waking you as you almost sneeze, you don’t have to work so hard for him, he knows you want to help. He wishes he could tell you, and he will, when he’s back to normal. For now, he rests alongside you, head leaning against the top of yours and tail tucked against your neck.
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Kaedehara Kazuha ;
Kazuha is a very chill cat, he doesn’t get into trouble, he doesn’t cough hairballs on the floor and he doesn’t knock things over.
  (Instead of coughing hairballs on the floor he swats them off-deck with his paws, Beidou caught him doing it once).
  There’s not much trouble to get into on the ocean, and he’s rather good at keeping out of trouble overall on land, sticking by his side is a sureway to a boring day of exploration or lounging around—which is your perfect type of day.
  You help him into your bag as the Crux ‘boards’ by Liyue Harbour (it stops a bit away and tucked by a cliffside to avoid attention) and you make sure he doesn’t accidentally call into the ocean as a few crewmates row to land. You’re stopping for a few days, so you make sure to use the time to relax and take in landside air and wander around the expansive Harbour. 
  Kazuha likes to take life at a slower pace, and thus your walk to the Harbour took longer than you expected
 as you thought Kazuha was doing his normal meditation on a warm, sun-kissed rock along the road

  But he was asleep, sitting up and enjoying the sun. It took you thirty minutes to realise—a sitting cat with its eyes closed and a sleeping cat in a sitting position is the exact same.
  He very much likes to people-watch, but in this cat form, he seems even more engaged—he can hear sounds more clearly and he seems even more perceptive than usual. Watching a tea maker brew a cup on a teahouse table you had sat by to rest and ordered some snacks. He sniffs at the tea as it’s placed in front of you—he’s perched comfortably on your lap, you’re surprised the teahouse even allows him inside—and seems to appreciate the detail he gets from this new perspective, af if it smells different in this form.
  He tries to taste it and your food, but you have to block his snout with your hand, you’re not sure if the food you were having would give him a stomach ache or not. 
Ona walk on the outskirts of the city, you look back and see Kazuha carrying a stick in his mouth
?
  He’s not a dog, so you’re not entirely sure why he’s doing it, maybe cats do that too? The dogs that hang around the bridge leading to the southeast outside of Liyue Harbour try to approach him with the stick, thinking he was playing, but he hops into a tree to keep it to himself. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening, but he seems to be having fun.
  Kazuha wanders off oftentimes, just in his normal, usual body
 so you’re not sure why you’re surprised when you suddenly find him missing from your side—perhaps it’s because he’s a cat and you’re unsure if he can defend himself as well in that form, but you hurry to look for him.
  You practically run in circles until you find him pressing his paw to a brown, crusty leaf
 again and again, as if listening to the crunch of it in a rhythm. You sigh and scoop him up into your arms. “Don’t wander off like this,” you scold and poke his nose. Kazuha sneezes from the poke, but blinks up at you and nods his little furry head.
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Kaeya ;
Unbothered, in his element. Kaeya sleeps in your windowsill and bathes in the sunlight all day while you scratch your head over how this could’ve happened. You try to leave for work and he practically screeches at the door, likely pleading you not to leave—he does that normally as well, except without the loud meowing. 
  Kaeya finds appreciation in the flexibility and grace that comes with this new body, he easily leps up on shelves and dives under the sofa, he chases flakes of dust and seems to be having quite a good time—perhaps it’s because he has no responsibilities in this form, he can’t go to work like this and has no control over it. And the loss of control is strangely freeing. 
  You scoop him up into your arms and his tail swishes happily, he grabs his claws into your shirt and purrs as you rub his ears, happy and content with the additional affection. He loves all affection he gets from you no matter what form it takes, and being a cat has given him the opportunity to be pampered in ways he never could experience as a human. 
  He does need his free time as well and he uses it well while you’re out of the house—though you were very optimistic to think that closing the windows would keep him contained, Kaeya easily flips the handles and slips out of your home. He enjoys the attention he gets from passersby, but is careful not to be too affectionate and get picked up by someone who thinks he’s a stray. 
  His usual guarded front lowers in this form, he feels like he could slip out of any situation—and he doesn’t have to be careful with his words or actions. No one expects a cat to have alternative intentions. 
  He jumps up in surprise as he hears footsteps rapidly approaching—he had fallen asleep on a ledge and the sun was already down. Kaeya blinks as you pick him up, breath heaving. “There you are, I’ve looked everywhere for you! I thought something happened when I couldn’t find you around the plaza,” you sigh a breath of relief and practically crush him to your chest. Kaeya wriggles a little but gives up and nuzzles into you, pushing his forehead into your cheek. 
  After a number of days, Kaeya gets bored, as fun as lounging around and being pampered it
 he misses real food, and dragging you away from your work to have lunch—and holding you properly, he can only lay on top of you like this, which doesn’t exactly feel like holding.
  And Kaeya being restless
 he gets whiny. 
  He would usually be more subtle, but now that he feels the rush of freedom his feline form gives him, he uses it to protest by loafing on your clothes after you fold them to put away, laying over your lap when you need to get up—even though he’s not really a cat
 kind of, you still get the same feeling of not wanting to move him off no matter how much space he’s taking.
  But that’s okay, because he just has to slow blink at you and nuzzle into your hand and you forgive him, how could you not?
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Kamisato Ayato ;
Ayato is an unreasonably pretty cat. His fur is soft and silky, he has this
 smug kitty-smile at all times, and it makes you want to pinch his ears. He sits on your lap and peeks onto the low table inside his study as you go through paperwork. Just because he’s become a cat doesn’t mean his workload just miraculously lessens. 
  Thankfully, after a few days of trying to juggle his work—how does he do it?!—even with him by your side, albeit in a form that can’t properly communicate
 Ayaka decides to lend a hand, she takes it upon herself to attend meetings and represent the clan and Commission in Ayato’s stead. Thankfully no one has questioned where he is yet.
  Or why there is a suspiciously similar cat trotting around the estate in his place. 
  You fish into a bush in the courtyard gardens, hand feeling around—until you find fur and yoink it up. Ayato blinks at you, tail swishing as he has a piece of grilled fish in his mouth that he stole from the kitchens. “You know
 you can have all the fish you want—you don’t have to steal it,” you say as you lift him into your arms.
  His ears flick as you talk, but he eats the fish happily regardless. You shake your head in mild exasperation. Looks like he’s using the opportunity to engage in
 more mischief than usual. Perhaps a different kind. 
  Ayato likes to use his newfound stealth and agility to his advantage
 to torment you.
  You put away some laundry and turned to a shelf to fetch something—only to come face to face with Ayato’s cat-face, making you jump as he meows happily—as if happy to see you! He knows he’s just trying to startle you!
  He winds around your feet when you walk around the estate and purrs happily when you squint at him.
  Ayato knows the limits, he stops before you can lock him inside a room for the remainder of the day. His fur is so soft as you pet him and a rumbling purr leaves him, he knows it’s silly—he’s not really a cat, at least, hopefully not for long. But you keep petting and stroking him while he does. 
  He takes good care of himself on normal days, and as a cat, it’s no different—he grooms himself meticulously, though finds it rather embarrassing if you’re looking, so he tries to do it out of sight
 it's very instinctual, but he also likes to feel clean and groomed. 
  You once passed the great hall and saw Thoma wriggling a toy with a bundle of feathers on it while Ayato chased it
 it was pretty cute to watch, but you hurried along before either of them could notice you. 
  He hogs the futon, you don’t want to push him to the side and get pushed to the edge of the mattress yourself. Ayato doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 
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Kaveh ;
Distressed, not having fun, he wants to go home.
  A series of meows in varying states of distress and confusion follow behind you as you walk, you stop and turn around, peering down at the strange cat that’s been following you around since you left the Akademiya. You were about to ask what he wants
 but as you squint at the cat
 doesn’t it look familiar?
  Kaveh doesn’t stop when you do, he raises on his hind legs by your feet and sinks his claws into your pants, a shrill, distressed meow leaves him.
  You reach down and pick him up, holding under his front legs as you inspect him
 hm, golden fur with tints of a darker, sandy brown
 those big red eyes.
  “... Kaveh?” you must be crazy, there’s no way your partner is a cat, and followed you around without you realising, but you know those eyes very well. It’s him.
  Alhaitham just stares at you like you grew three additional heads, he looks at Kaveh in your arms and then back at you. “... it looks like him, but that’s not proof enough—have you asked him to write his name?”
  You look at Kaveh and he tilts his small head to look up at you. Write his name
? He doesn’t exactly have thumbs
 but Alhaitham has a good point. What if it’s just a very persistent cat? 
  Then again
 where would Kaveh be? He’s usually home by this time.
  Alhaitham fetches a pen and some parchment and you put Kaveh down on the table. He tries to use his paws at first but just spills ink all over the place—but as he grabs the pen with his mouth and clumsily scribbles his signature, Alhaitham just hums while you scoop Kaveh up again, holding him up. “It is you! What happened to you, Kaveh?”
  Of course, he can’t give a proper answer, he wriggles his paws around and meows in a long dialogue—but it’s entirely incomprehensible. 
  While you and Alhaitham try to figure out how to get him back, Kaveh tries to adjust to his
 predicament. He doesn’t do it with any grace, though
 his leaps and jumps across furniture are miscalculated and he falls to the ground or hits his head more often than you can count.
  But your worried petting and rubbing the aching area makes him purr and nuzzle into your arms.
  He does hate the heightened senses, he jumps at the smallest noise and scuttles across the room if anything startles him—and he gets startled very easily like this.
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Neuvillette ;
You call his name, looking around his office
 you scratch your head, he can’t have gone far, you just left to fetch some tea for a few minutes. It’s not like he can open the door or window and slip out—why would he anyway?
  You hear a very
 pathetic meow, from next to you—but there’s nothing there, just a sofa. You hear it again—under the sofa
?
  Ducking down, you see that Neuvillette is stuck, he seems to have been trying to squeeze himself under the sofa, and rounding the furniture, you see his hind legs and tail flat on the floor
 it’s a bit amusing. “There, I got you,” you say soothingly as you lift the sofa up a little so he can back out. Neuvillette stands up and shakes his body.
  You squat down and smile. “How’d you get stuck under there?” you hold out your hand and he presses his head into your palm, nuzzling against your skin for comfort as you turn your hand to scratch and pet him.
  He’s not very good at resisting the instincts and temptations that come with this form—you’re unsure why he seems to struggle so much, but you try to help him as much as you can, and not laugh.
  You saw him chase a shadow, there is an ornament on the raised blinds that hang above the large window in his office. It's attached to the strings that lower and raise them and it sways slightly—casting a shadow across the floor.
  Another time he was grooming his fur and struggling, he has a thick, long coat and had to lean far back to reach the end of his fur as his tongue dragged along the hairs
 causing him to roll backwards off the arm of the couch and into the pile of pillows.
  Innocent, small things that make you smile, but you’re careful that he doesn’t see it.
  He loafs over a stack of court documents as you organise his desk—might as well use the opportunity to clean up while he won’t be making a mess. He doesn’t seem satisfied with his place on the desk and stands
 and spots a box on the ground, it’s stacked halfway with old documents to be taken to storage
 but it also looks like the perfect spot to rest. He hops down from the desk and circles a few times on the papers to get comfortable. He wriggles a little before sitting down.
  It takes him a minute to realise that he was kneading into the paper when he hears the sound of it tearing under his claws in an instinctual need to make the bottom of the box comfortable. 
  Safe to say, he was mortified to have destroyed the top four documents, but thankfully they weren’t shredded and you managed to salvage them with some memory of what had occurred as well as piecing them together.
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Tartaglia ;
You look towards the window above the kitchen counter, cold air brushes into the house as Childe enters through it—with a mouse in his mouth.
  You leap up and push the book in your hand against his face and push him straight back outside. “No! Absolutely not! Leave it outside, not in the house!!” You close the window behind him and sigh in relief, brushing stray snow into the sink. When you look up again, He’s sitting there, big eyes and ears flat against his head
 but no mouse.
  Sighing, you open the window a smidge so that he can step inside, where he shakes himself and tosses flakes of melting snow all over. 
  Childe sits down, tail swaying—as if waiting for something.
  You set your haps on your hips. “What?”
  “Mrrow
” he wriggles his head, he wants a pat. 
  
 fine, just because he took the mouse outside because you ‘asked’, you raise your hand to stroke his head and he tilts it to lick your palm—but you pull back. “No, you just had a wild animal in your mouth, wash your mouth!”
  What is this?? He feels like a criminal, all he did was bring you a prize
 to be fair, he realised how silly it was to bring you a dead animal when you leapt up to push him back out, but it felt completely natural up until that point!
  He whines and meows for forgiveness for the rest of the night, and you do eventually ‘forgive’ him and let Chile lounge around on your lap while you pet him and continue reading.
  He picks fights with swaying curtains, chases your broom when you’re cleaning and even whacked your cup of coffee off the dinner table—spilling it everywhere. He’s a nightmare in this form, because no matter the scolding, he just stares at you with excited, large eyes and a swaying tail.
  Nothing you say gets through his head. In one ear and out the other. 
  He does not give up either, if he wants affection, he will get it one way or the other, even if he has to whine and meow endlessly, follow you around—fake a limp! You shake him a bit after he worried you and you almost went out in the middle of the evening through the snow to take him to a vet when he just wanted scritches. 
  In all fairness
 this is just typical behaviour, but now he has the kitten eyes to break your self control and composure within seconds. 
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Thoma ;
He tries to do his job even in cat form, using his tail to sweep, he even takes his duster into his mouth and tries to sweep on his surfaces he’d usually need ladders to reach, and now he can just leap to them.
  But he also has a problem

  He has an instinctual need to create a mess, knock things over or sit on things—when he catches himself in an act of pushing Ayaka’s discarded tea off a table, he nearly leaps away to stop himself. 
  Thankfully, everyone around him doesn't mind—and it’s a bit relieving to see that Thoma regains a sense of himself. He finds time where he would usually go into town to instead nap—and the Kamisato estate has perfect napping spots. He lies sprawled across the engawa surrounding the eastern part of the estate near the back gardens, and lets the warm beams of the sun warm his belly—only to shoot up in surprise when he hears footsteps, embarrassed to be caught lounging around. 
  Ayato sometimes plucks him away to keep on his lap for hours while he sorts through paperwork, petting and scratching behind his ears while his other hand signs documents. Thoma gets a bit restless just loafing on his lord’s lap and meows in relief when you come along to fetch him. 
  Ayaka leapt at the opportunity to sew a few accessories for him, guise under the excuse of “practise for smaller bodies” and Thoma ends up with half a wardrobe by the end of the week. 
  But he prefers to be around you, you don’t trap him on your lap (even though Ayato gives very good scritches) or make him model for three hours (even though Ayaka gave him snacks). As you work around the estate, he gets tired—curse this cat body and it’s perpetual need for napping!—and you tuck him gently into your eri*. Thoma lays nestled against your chest warmly, his body light and still as you continue your work. 
  The gardens of the Kamisato estate is a disaster zone, and after the first few days, thoma knows to avoid it. 
  He had strolled past, early in his transformation—and been startled by his own reflection in the pond he passed by, the fish swimming away in a hurry as he ran across the gardens in surprise. A second time, he had spent twelve minutes chasing a butterfly while Ayato watched with a signature smile
 he will likely not let him forget it. 
  Thankfully, he’s not needed much in the gardens, and as he sits perched atop a high shelf in the kitchens, his tail sways as he leans forward
 very much ready to leap and steal some food—before you pluck him up and raise an eyebrow.
  His ears flatten in realisation, but you rub his cheeks and tuck him back into your clothes—grabbing some leftover pears from the dessert the kitchens were making, letting him munch on it while you get back to work. 
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Venti  ;
You didn’t think Venti could become even more of an airhead on a typical day as he does when he becomes a cat. He gets distracted by the smallest things and wanders off—leading to a wild goose chase where you have to ask around for a small darkly coloured cat with blue highlights on its ears and tail—a very distinct cat!—and being pointed in every direction possible.
  Only to discover him napping in a crate full of apples in an alley you walked past at least six times just in the last fifteen minutes. 
  He is also very vocal, Venti saying anything that comes to his mind
 which is unfortunately nothing but meowing nonsense to your ears, but you nod along as if you understand, having a halfway conversation with the lively cat. 
  Somehow, he very much likes to play and nap like he’s being paid to do it at the same time. In one moment, he’s swatting at your clothes and trying to get to play with your fingers—which he accidentally bites and scratches in his excitement, quickly rectifying it with some licks and nuzzles—and the next, he’s passed out cold in a box or on a shelf for five hours.
  He doesn’t seem embarrassed by these new catlike instincts, such as the need to groom himself—he even starts grooming you halfway through his coat, you’re sure your skin is very much clean by the time he finally turns back to himself. 
  Unlike normal cats, who move and settle down elsewhere when the person under them gets up
 Venti is not happy about being disturbed nor that you’re trying to get up, he whines and kneads on your clothes to try and get you to stay a little bit longer, giving you the best big kitten eyes he can muster.
  And damn him, it works. He knows what he’s doing. 
  You had been looking for him one morning, thinking he just wandered off again and you’d find him napping in some corner of the city
 when Diluc approaches you with a sheepish looking Venti-cat, holding him by the scruff of his neck. “This yours?”
  Diluc doesn’t even seem surprised that the bard is a cat. At least he isn’t an allergy risk when he’s human-like and trying to get into his wares. 
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Wanderer ;
He is very aware of himself, he knows he looks stupid (cute) and that everything he does will be looked at through the lens of a typical cat and not someone stuck in its body.
  And thus, he does all he can to be as eerie and unnatural a cat as he can be.
  He doesn’t make a single sound, no meowing, no purring, nothing. He doesn’t walk like a cat—thankfully he doesn’t walk on two legs—nor does he exhibit any of their typical behaviours.
  At least, that was the plan. 
  Every single time Wanderer catches himself doing anything that could be considered “cat-like”, such as grooming himself, chasing a loose string, or gods forbid
 kneading—he will immediately stop and compose himself again.
  As opposed to some others, he absolutely hates the loss of control that follows becoming a cat. 
  He can’t write properly, he can’t communicate—and if he tries, no one but you and perhaps Nahida takes him seriously—he’s always sleepy and aware at strange times
 he hates it! 
  And once when he was just trying to have some grapes for snacks—you suddenly leapt towards him to stop him, taking the bowl off the table with a relieved huff when you noticed he hadn’t swallowed any of it
 after you pried the grape out of his mouth. At his hissing, you explained that cats can’t have grapes. 
  He gave you the cold fur-shoulder for at least two days. 
  You brought him out one time to get some fresh air—since he’s fully aware of himself, he shouldn’t run off and get lost, or into a dangerous situation like an indoor cat might. But when you gave some other cats around the streets of Sumeru attention, he quickly meowed in protest and whacked the other cats away. 
  It’s a bit cute
 he doesn’t normally act so forthcoming, but as he bumps his head into your knee afterwards, you rub his cheeks and pinch his ears despite further protest. How cute!
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Wriothesley ;
At first, you weren’t even sure if Wriothesley was just a “cat”. He’s huge*. 
  You put a bowl in front of him, filled with foods that are okay for cats to eat but also not
 gross, as Wriothesley is very much aware in that cat-head of his. “C’mon, there’s nothing wrong with this, I even tasted it—it’s a bit bland ‘cause we can’t put any seasoning, but it’s food.”
  He leans down, and for a second you think that he’s going to eat it—but as his whiskers brush against the sides of the bowl, he lifts his head abruptly and swats at the bowl, clattering it to the ground—he didn’t mean to hit it at all, but also not this hard. 
  You scratch your head, you just can’t figure out why he won’t eat—you’ve tried everything!
  It took you several hours of back and forth questions and meowing to realise that it was the shape of the bowl that was the problem and not the food itself.
  On another day, you reach down to pet his soft, thick fur—only to get a static shock, it zaps your fingers and both of you jump back. You always have to be careful with petting him, as there’s always a risk of getting zapped at any time. Worst part is, it’s not even every time! It catches you off guard!
  He likes to climb and jump on the pipes that web around the fortress, getting into places he’s never even considered before—and sometimes you look around for him for hours before giving up
 only to suddenly be leapt on from above by a nine kilogram heavy cat half your size, knocking you over.
  Siegwinne noticed that he had been brooding lately, he had been stuck as a cat for five days now and it was beginning to frustrate him. So she decided to soak a small blanket in tea mixed with catnip—after it was dry and she rubbed some more on it, she laid it out in his office

  You watched him for a good long while as he rubbed against it, meowed and rolled on the blanket. It was unbearably adorable, but you eventually pulled him away after a while—worrying it might be too much.
  He’s so large that it’s almost like sleeping with a person, just a very furry one. He lies halfway over you and as you wake in the morning—he refuses to get up. You give in and relax in bed for a while
 until he starts kneading your cheeks, leaving small scratches by his big paws and claws. You don’t stop him—it doesn’t hurt, he looks so focused, like he’s trying to squeeze something out of your cheeks. 
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Xiao ;
He meows and wriggles in your arms, but you try your best to hold him until you reach the top of the inn—he swats at you  and you finally let him go when you enter his usual reserved room. Despite being paws up when you let go of him, Xiao lands perfectly and immediately hops up to the highest vantage point in the room he could reach. 
  You don’t get him down by yourself, he only comes down willingly after a few hours when he’s calmed down and adjusted a bit to this form. You’re not entirely sure what happened, you had just been exploring a cave that was strangely entwined with a temple of sorts, when a bright light appeared behind you, and Xiao—who had been accompanying you—was suddenly a cat. A very small cat. 
  He loafs on the windowsill in the night, his tail wrapped around his paws as he peers towards the sky—at the slightest noise, his ears flicker towards it and he squints at the roads below that pass and surround the large inn. 
  He is unbothered. Firm. Stoic.
  
 after getting wet under a pouring rain that persisted all day, he pretends not to be bothered by his wet fur and the uncomfortable existence he leads under this blanket of wet fur

  But he can only pretend for so long. You turn away and pretend to busy yourself to allow him some privacy to reluctantly lick along his fur and smooth it down, trying to clean or groom it in a way that makes it less sloppy. 
  He hates it, this weird satisfaction that comes with this very primal instinct, and yet, he does still feel the satisfaction.
  Xiao is difficult to read on an average day, he’s very used to controlling his emotions and maintaining a front that’s difficult to get past.
  But as a cat
 he’s an open book, he approaches you with a curled tail, he slow blinks at you when you drag your fingers through his fur as he loafs on the windowsill. 
  But he does. Not. Meow. 
  Except for that time you hauled his ass back to the inn
 and when Zhongli makes a sudden appearance, he hops from his perched position and snakes around the former Archon’s legs, purring and meowing as he’s being petted and spoken to. He doesn’t notice his own behaviour

  Not until the following night after Zhongli leaves, and Xiao is mortified that he behaved like an affection-depraved cat in front of Morax.
  Thankfully you sliding a comb through his fur and untangling some knots from the day distracts and calms him down in the evening.
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Zhongli ;
At first, you weren’t even sure if Zhongli was actually aware he was a cat, he follows you around, sits on a bench and licks his paw to clean it while you shop for groceries
 he chases anything shiny that you come across and swats at it with his paws, leaps at it and tries to capture it—usually rocks or mora people drop. Maybe he likes the mineral, maybe it’s the shine. You can’t really know.
  You try to give him some nice food, cut down nicely so he won’t accidentally choke on it
 but he won’t eat it, not unless you plate it properly
? At least, when you rearranged it better and separated the meats from the greens, he seemed to like it more. Maybe he thought you were treating him a bit too much like a pet rather than a partner that’s unfortunately become a cat for a (hopefully) limited time.
  After a long day of
 not doing much, Zhongli realised he had left scratches on the sides of some furniture and he tries to hide or cover them up for the time being, dragging a blanket over the arm of a divan in the living room
 hopefully you won’t discover them and he can fix it after he’s back to normal before you notice.
  You do notice that he very much prefers specific textures, he doesn’t like walking on the hardwood floor of your home and instead prefers to lie down or sit on blankets or the silken sheets in your shared bedroom. 
  Despite the strange predicament, Zhongli is very calm, he’s both patient and has a good sense—if this was a dangerous curse or spell that was difficult to reverse, he would likely sense it. Instead, he considers using this time to show and receive affection in a way you haven’t been able to before. 
  He often sits by your legs or thighs, he winds around them and rubs his furry cheeks along your clothes and pretty much anywhere he can reach. Your legs when he’s winding around them, your hand when you reach out to pet him, your cheek when he stands on your chest when you’re trying to read in bed before sleeping. 
  He purrs and cuddles with you, laying in your arms or over your lap—he even hid in your bag once when you went out for the day, and you discovered it too late to take him back home (you did wonder why your bag felt heavier than usual) and thus, he has the pleasure of accompanying you to your work—something he doesn’t often get the excuse or time to do. 
  Thankfully, Hu Tao didn’t question it when you came to her and said that Zhongli couldn’t come to work for a few days (hopefully just a few days). If anything, she sighed in relief and said something about him finally using his paid time off and sick days. Then thanks you for taking him out of commission??? 
  You pour over some scrolls and papers to try and figure out how to turn Zhongli back, and he hops onto the desk in the study, nuzzling against your arm before sitting down, tail swaying as he joins you in searching for ways to bring him back to you in a more familiar form. Despite how cute he is like this. 
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* eri is the collar-flap on the front of a kimono/yukata that crosses over the chest, he's tucked into it and lying on his back. if you know about the nioh cat clock scene, yeah.
* wriothesley is supposed to be a maine coon type of cat, just huge and heavy. but not wild cat huge.
180 notes · View notes
eu-nicola · 2 days ago
Text
enemies
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summary: the love-hate relationship between Rafe and you
warnings: small mention of violence
word counter: 4151
author's note: english is not my first language
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The first time you met Rafe Cameron, you were barely six years old. You clearly remember how his stepmother, Rose, welcomed you into her home with a perfect smile, while your mother insisted that you play with him and Sarah so that you wouldn’t be alone. 
The Cameron house was as intimidating as its miniature owner. Rafe was nine years old and had an attitude that made him seem much older. He looked down at you from the top of the stairs as if you were an intruder, someone who didn’t deserve to be in his space. 
“She’s the Davies’ daughter?” he asked in that mocking tone that would become his trademark. 
“Yes, and I want you to be nice to her.” Rose ruffled his hair before turning to you, but Rafe’s gaze was already fixed on your shoes, which were muddy from playing outside before coming in. 
“I hope she doesn’t touch anything, Rose.” His voice was dry, as if he was already tired of you before he really met you. 
From that day on, your relationship with him was marked by constant clashes. Every visit to the Cameron house felt like a cold war disguised as childish games. He always found ways to make you feel out of place, like the time he took your doll from your hands while you were playing with Sarah and threw it across the garden.
“If you don’t know how to play well, don’t play.” That phrase of his stuck in your mind.
In adolescence, the gap between you grew wider. While Rafe became the most popular boy among the Kooks, you began to spend more time with the Pogues. Your visits to the Cameron house became less frequent, and when they coincided, things always ended badly.
“Look at you, you’re a Pogue now.” His tone was always hurtful, accompanied by that arrogant smile that got on your nerves.
“And you’re still the same idiot as always.” Your response was almost automatic, as if after so many years the discussions between you were a rehearsed routine.
But the real problem wasn't just his words. It was the way he always found a moment to annoy you. During a beach party hosted by Kooks, for example, Rafe made sure your drink ended up spilled all over your new dress.
But it wasn't all enmity, when the search for gold began, your world became more complicated. You spent your days with the Pogues, planning, looking for clues, and trying to avoid Rafe, who seemed willing to do anything to get the treasure. The tension between you, which was already high, skyrocketed. It wasn't just childish enmity now; it was real danger.
Rafe had no limits. His eyes were always filled with that spark of arrogance, but behind it was something darker, something that made him unpredictable. Despite that, you never imagined you'd find yourself in the position you found yourself in one afternoon in the dense woods surrounding the Outer Banks.
You were following a trail of marks on the trees along with JJ and Kiara when you heard a noise. You broke away from the group, promising them you’d be back quickly. What you found was Rafe, kneeling beside a steep slope, holding his leg in a wince of pain. The ground beneath him was wet, almost muddy, and it looked like he might slide down any second. 
You stopped dead in your tracks. Part of you wanted to turn on your heel and pretend you hadn’t seen him. After all, Rafe wouldn’t have done the same for you, would he? But another part, that part you always tried to stifle, knew you couldn’t just leave him there. 
“What are you doing here?” Rafe snapped at you as you cautiously approached. His voice was heavy with distrust, but there was also a hint of relief he tried to hide. 
“I should be asking you the same thing. What happened?” You couldn’t keep the tone of your voice from being harsh. After all, he had done a lot of things that warranted your hatred. 
“I slipped. My leg
 I can’t move it.” His face was pale, and his hands shook slightly as he tried to brush away the mud that covered his pants.
There was a long silence. You could have left him there. You could have turned and gone back to the Pogues. But something inside you wouldn’t let you.
“This doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” you said as you crouched down beside him.
Rafe looked at you in disbelief. “Are you helping me?”
“Shut up and don’t make it harder, Cameron.”
You offered him your arm and helped him up, leaning his weight on you as you slowly moved forward. It was an awkward process; his size made each step harder. But there was something odd about the silence you shared, a momentary truce amidst all the hostility.
When you finally dropped him off somewhere safe, away from danger, Rafe looked at you with a mix of wounded pride and something you couldn’t quite place.
“I’m not going to thank you,” he said at last, breaking the silence.
“I didn’t expect you to,” you replied, wiping the sweat from your brow. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.
“Wait.” His tone was softer than you’d heard before, almost vulnerable. You turned slowly to look at him.
“What?” you asked, tired.
“Did you see anything?” His question was direct, his gaze piercing.
You understood immediately. Rafe wasn’t just hurt; he was there for something related to gold. Maybe he’d found a lead, something he didn’t want the Pogues to know about. You could have told him the truth, that you’d noticed a map in his pocket when you helped him, but you chose to lie.
“No, I didn’t see anything.” Your voice was firm, although inside you felt a small knot of guilt.
Rafe seemed to relax a little, although he still looked at you with distrust.
Later, when the Pogues found a clue that fit too well with the area where you had seen Rafe, he understood what you had done. Someone, perhaps Sarah, told him that you were near the area when you separated from the group. It didn’t take much for him to put the pieces together.
The next time you saw him, his expression was completely different. There was no vulnerability or truce anymore, only fury.
“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” he snapped at you, coming dangerously close.
“What are you talking about?” You tried to remain calm, although you knew exactly what he meant.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You lied to me. You took what was mine!” His voice was filled with rage, and though you knew it was unfair, there was something in his eyes that made you feel a pang of remorse.
“I don’t owe you anything, Rafe.” Your response was cold, though inside you felt more affected than you wanted to admit.
Rafe was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you. Finally, he took a step back, but not before making his feelings clear.
“Don’t ever cross my path again, Pogue.”
That was the beginning of a new phase in your feud, more bitter and personal than ever.
Your relationship with Rafe Cameron had reached a point where hatred seemed to be the only thing that united you. After your “betrayal” during the search for gold, any vestige of truce between you vanished. Although you would never admit it, there was something inexplicable that brought you back to square one: an enmity filled with tension, resentment, and something deeper that neither of you understood.
One of the worst fights you had occurred during a rainy night in the Outer Banks. The Pogues had been following Rafe, convinced that they had found another important lead to the gold. The chase led them to an old abandoned port, where you finally confronted them face to face.
“Always after me, aren’t you?” Rafe looked at you from the shadow of a warehouse, his soaked hair sticking to his forehead. The sound of the rain beat hard against the metal roof, but nothing could drown out the intensity of his voice.
“You have no right to that gold, Cameron.” Your words came out loaded with defiance as you clenched your fists. You knew you were probably playing with fire by facing him, but something in you couldn’t stop.
“And you are?” he replied, taking a step towards you. His eyes, dark under the rain, were filled with rage. “What makes you think you’re better than me, Pogue?.”
“For starters, I don’t try to kill people for him.” Your words made him laugh, a dry, bitter laugh that made you feel a chill.
“You think so?” Rafe leaned a little towards you, his voice lowering to an almost whispering tone. “You know perfectly well that you would do anything to protect your own, too. We’re not that different, even if it pains you to admit it.”
The argument soon turned physical. He tried to take the map from you, and you fought back with all your might. It was as if you were both so consumed by rage that nothing else mattered. You fell to the ground, feeling the cold wetness of the cement against your back, as Rafe tried to hold you down.
“Let me go, you moron!” you screamed, kicking him in the stomach.
“Give me the damn map!” he roared, clinging to your wrist.
For a moment, you thought it would all end there, that one of you wouldn’t walk away from this fight. But something changed. Rafe looked you straight in the eyes, and for a moment, his grip softened. He looked confused, as if he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep hurting you.
Finally, he let go of you and stood up, breathing heavily.
“I can’t do this.” His voice was barely a whisper, and it took you a few seconds to process what he had said.
“What
?” you were speechless, still lying on the ground.
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, taking a few steps away from you.
“Go away. Take the damn map and go away.”
But not everything always ended in a truce. There was another time when it was you who had to decide between helping him or letting him face the consequences of his own actions. It was during a smuggling operation that Rafe had organized to finance his obsession with gold. You found him cornered in an alley, with a group of men who clearly did not have friendly intentions.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped at you when you appeared at the end of the alley. He was bleeding from a cut on his eyebrow, but he still maintained that defiant attitude.
“I saw your truck nearby.” You approached cautiously, analyzing the situation.
The men paid you no attention at first, but soon realized you could be a problem. One of them advanced towards you with a menacing smile.
“Another friend of yours, Cameron?” he said mockingly.
“Get out of here, Pogue. I don’t need your help.” Rafe’s voice was firm, but there was something in his gaze that made you stay.
Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t just leave him there. You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it hard at one of the men. It was enough to distract them and give Rafe a chance to fight back.
You helped him escape, though as soon as you turned the corner, Rafe turned to you, furious.
“Why do you keep butting into my business?” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Because I’m not like you, Rafe. I can't let someone die, even if they're an idiot like you.” Your answer made him let out an exasperated sigh, but he didn't say anything else.
In the end, it was always the same. They hurt each other, they hated each other, they betrayed each other... but they also always found a way to forgive each other. You didn't know why you did it. Maybe it was because you saw something in Rafe that others didn't see, or maybe it was because deep down you knew you weren't as different from him as you wanted to believe.
The only thing you knew for sure was that, no matter how hard you tried to hate him, something always made you go back to him. And the worst of all was that Rafe seemed to feel the same way.
Rafe Cameron drove you crazy in every possible way and that made you uncomfortable and annoyed, despite always finding gold on your path, you also found it on your path when you were calm, reminding yourself that you couldn't get rid of it even if you wanted to.
There were nights when the air was so thick that it was hard to breathe. The humidity was sticking your clothes to your skin, but it wasn't just the weather that made you feel this way; it was him.
Rafe Cameron always managed to find you, even when you didn't want to be found. His mere presence seemed to charge the atmosphere with an almost palpable tension, something that only existed between the two of you. Like that time on the dock, under the dim light of a broken streetlight. You were alone, waiting for JJ and Pope, when you heard their footsteps, firm, sure, approaching.
Your body tensed before you turned around. There he was, standing, with that arrogant posture that you detested so much. His messy hair and clenched jaw gave you every reason to hate him more than you already did. But as you looked at him, feeling his gaze sweep over every detail of you, there was something different, something that made you stop.
There was anger in his gaze, yes, but there was also something deeper, something dark that you recognized because you felt it too. Your hands clenched into fists, not because you wanted to hit him—though that was of course a tempting option—but because you wanted to stop the impulse that made you think about getting any closer than necessary.
It was a constant tug-of-war. One moment you wanted to push him into the water, make sure he disappeared from your life forever. But then, a part of you wanted to do the complete opposite, you wanted to get closer, erase the distance between you, and find out if that tension could transform into something more.
Rafe leaned against one of the dock posts, looking at you with a mix of defiance and curiosity. Everything about him seemed designed to provoke you. His gaze fixed, his shoulders relaxed but ready to move at the slightest hint of threat. It was so unbearably irritating, and yet, there was something you couldn’t ignore.
The wind blew hard, and you felt a chill run down your spine, but it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver. It was that unmistakable feeling of being on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t control.
You wanted to kill him. For all the times he had made you feel less than, for every hurtful word, for every betrayal and fight. But at the same time, you wanted to get close enough to know if that spark you felt between you could catch fire.
But you didn't. You couldn't.
Instead, you took a deep breath, ignoring how your heart was pounding. You turned your back on him, your steps firm on the wood of the dock as you walked away. You knew that if you stayed one more second, the line between hate and desire could blur forever. And you weren't ready to face what that meant.
You felt him stand still, watching you as you left. You didn't need to look back to know that that feeling would continue to haunt you, just as much as he did.
And you were right, a few days later that line blurred.
There was a storm that night, one of those that seemed to split the sky in two with each flash of lightning. The rain was pounding on the roof of the old abandoned cabin where you had taken shelter, trying to escape the chaos that the Pogues and Rafe had caused in the last gold hunt. Your hands were shaking with rage, not so much from the cold, but from the frustration of knowing that Rafe had, once again, gotten you into this situation.
You were alone, at least that's what you thought, until you heard the door slam open. You turned quickly, looking for something to defend yourself with, but seeing that unmistakable figure enter soaked to the bone, your heart stopped.
Rafe.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you thought, although you didn't bother to say it out loud.
He slammed the door behind him hard, shaking off the water like a rabid dog. His dark hair, and his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, as if he had run a marathon. His gaze met yours almost immediately, filled with that mix of fury and something more that always seemed to burn between you.
You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t look away either. There was something about him that night, something different. It wasn’t just the usual anger you two shared, or even the constant tension that seemed to surround you like a force field. It was something rawer, more real.
The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the roar of the storm outside. You felt the air in the cabin grow thicker, charged with electricity, as if lightning was about to strike right there.
“What? Are you just going to stand there staring at me like an idiot?” You had crossed your arms, trying to hide the trembling that ran through your body.
He didn’t answer, but he took a step towards you, slow, deliberate. You could feel the intensity of his gaze fixed on you, as if he could see past the facade you always tried to maintain. Your heart began to beat faster, and you hated that he had that effect on you.
“Rafe, don’t start,” you warned yourself mentally, even though you weren’t sure what it was you wanted to avoid.
But he kept coming closer. You could see every detail of his face now: the raindrops sliding down his jaw, the way his lips were pressed together as if he were holding something back. His presence filled the small space between you, and suddenly, the hatred you’d always felt for him didn’t seem enough to explain what was happening.
You didn’t know who made the first move. Maybe it was you, maybe it was him, but in an instant, the distance disappeared. His hand slid behind your neck, pulling you closer to him with a force that made you gasp. His mouth crashed into yours with an intensity that left you breathless, as if all that pent-up rage had finally found an outlet.
Your hands clutched at his wet shirt, trying to push him away and pull him in at the same time. The kiss wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t tender. It was an explosion of everything you had bottled up for years: the hatred, the frustration, the attraction that neither of you wanted to admit.
You felt his body press against yours, trapping you between him and the wall of the cabin. His breath was hot against your skin, mixing with the cold of the storm that continued to rage outside. His every move seemed to call out something you didn’t know you’d been holding back, and for a moment, you let yourself go.
But it was only a moment.
Suddenly, you pulled away, your hands on his chest as you tried to catch your breath.
“This
 can’t happen.” Your voice was barely a whisper, shaky but firm.
He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you said it all. There was something in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, something vulnerable that completely disarmed you.
The storm outside continued to rage, but inside the cabin, all was calm. Rafe didn’t try to come closer again, and you didn’t dare look him in the eye as you turned away, your heart pounding so hard you felt like it might explode.
After that night in the cabin, something changed, though you both tried to act like it hadn’t. That first time was an accident, you kept telling yourself, something driven by rage and storm. But what happened next made it clear that there was something more, something that went far beyond hatred or tension.
It wasn’t long before you met again. It was in one of the alleys behind The Wreck, where you had hidden yourself after a fight with Sarah and the others. Rafe appeared as if the universe was conspiring against you. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you with that mix of arrogance and determination that seemed to be part of his essence.
“You’re not here to worry about me, Cameron. What do you want?” you had snapped harshly, crossing your arms as if that physical barrier could protect you.
He didn’t answer right away, but the glint in his eyes made it clear that he knew exactly what he wanted. What followed was just as impulsive as the first time: his lips finding yours with a burning urgency, your hands clinging to his shirt as if the world could fall apart at that moment and you wouldn’t care.
Logic disappeared when you were with him. All you had left were pure emotions: desire, rage, need. In those moments, you didn't think about the past or what was coming next. You didn't think about the fights, the betrayals, or the reasons why you were supposed to hate him. There was only his hands on your skin, the sound of his breathing, and the way he managed to make you forget everything else.
But the next day, there was always something that reminded you why you hated him. Like that time you saw him bullying Pope at the dock, his overbearing attitude making it clear that the Rafe of last night and the Rafe of today were two sides of the same coin.
"You're an asshole," you had yelled at him later, when you faced him away from the others.
He shrugged, as if he didn't care, but his gaze searched yours, almost defiant.
"Don't expect me to change for you," he seemed to say without words.
You walked away furiously, promising yourself that this would be the last time. You couldn’t keep falling for that game, not when he was still the same cruel boy you’d known all your life.
But then, something always drew you back. Like when he found you after you were almost caught in one of John B’s crazy antics. He helped you escape, even covering for you when the Kooks passed by. It was an unexpected gesture, one that left you bewildered as you shared a moment of calm on an old boat hidden in the swamp.
“Thanks, I guess,” you’d told him, though your words were filled with skepticism.
He smirked, the kind of smile that always got on your nerves.
“Don’t think about it too much.”
But you thought about it. Every gesture of his, every glance, every clandestine kiss was etched into your memory, fueling a cycle you couldn’t break.
Of course, you had your part in that dynamic, too. There were times when your own actions infuriated him, like the time you stole information from him about the gold hunt and shared it with the Pogues. His reaction was explosive: he found you on the dock, his gaze filled with betrayal and fury.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he said, his voice deeper than usual.
For a moment you thought he would leave you there, that this would be the end. But no. Even though you had betrayed him, even though you had defied him in every way possible, he always came back. Just like you came back to him.
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aquaticmercy · 10 hours ago
Text
Waste a Moment / Part 15
Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 
Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.
Requested by :  @remoony
Word count : 2.7k
Note : I have a lot on my inbox and I haven’t been replying a lot lately, but I will go through them tomorrow! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!
Series Masterlist
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“Name a Price”
Tuesday.
You had said it all—every bitter feeling, every thread of anger that festered so deep inside you that you barely knew where you ended and it began. Alex hadn’t interrupted, hadn’t even shifted in her seat.
She just sat there beside you, listening like she did the first time.
Not as someone who pitied you— but as a friend.
For a while, she didn’t say anything. 
You stared at the glass case in front of you, the one holding Bucky’s war uniform— a symbol of his past that he was still piecing together.
You began to wonder if he’d been someone else back then— someone untouched by Hydra’s corruption. 
But you knew better. That uniform belonged to a man already carrying scars from war you couldn’t begin to fathom. Hydra just amplified it, took advantage of it, added to it.
“I’m not defending Bucky,” Alex finally spoke, “But let me ask you something—hypothetically. If you were still with him, and he somehow forgot all about his Winter Soldier days, would you remind him?”
What?
You turned to her sharply, mouth agape with shock. “That’s not fair.”
“I’m not trying to be fair,” she replied calmly, “it was just a hypothetical question.”
Your hands clenched into fists in your lap. “But that’s neither here nor there,” you muttered, looking away.
“Is it?” Alex pressed, her tone patient but unrelenting. “The only difference I see is scale.”
Her words lingered in your brain like a disease spreading. You wanted to snap at her, to tell her it wasn’t the same thing at all, but
 wasn’t it?
“Well,” you said, your voice faltering a little, your conviction a little less absolute. “It’s not the same,” you insisted. “It’s a painful memory for him, and he wouldn’t know how to process it. I wouldn’t want to
”
Your voice trailed off, realising your answer.
The truth— the truth was that you wouldn’t tell him. 
You wouldn’t tell him because you couldn’t bear to see the pain, to see the humanity ripped away again. You wouldn’t be able to look at the way it would twist his beautiful blue eyes and pull him back into the darkness he’d spent so long trying to climb out of. You wouldn’t tell him because you didn’t think you could survive watching him rip himself apart, questioning his very existence, his place in the world.
But was that fair? Could you make that choice for him?
Alex’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts. “Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?”
You flinched, feeling the words hit like a punch. 
“It wouldn’t be my place to give it to him,” you said, your tone harsher than you intended— like it was your last line of defence. 
“So you’d be complicit,” Alex said bluntly.
That word stunned you. It froze you in place.
Complicit.
You felt your chest tighten, your breath stopping for a split second. 
Complicit. 
Like Yelena.
The realisation struck you like a punch to the gut. 
Even as you tried to tend to the wounds, you still held a grudge against Yelena for what she’d done, for keeping the truth from you. You hated the way she had looked at you with pity in her eyes. You hated that she’d known all along. You hated that she knew when the truth came out, it would destroy you. 
But now, you realised, if you were in Yelena’s shoes, wouldn’t you have done the exact same thing?
“And how do you think he’d feel if he found out the way you did?” Alex continued quietly.
You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away. 
You didn’t have to imagine it. You already knew— you knew exactly how he’d feel.
He’d feel like the ground had been ripped out from under him, like the air had been stolen from his lungs. He’d feel betrayed. Hurt. 
Like his entire world was a lie.
Just like you had.
You loved Alex— she was your friend— but you hated how exposed you felt, how easily her words broke down the walls you've built around yourself.
“It’s not that simple,” you said, your voice breaking.
“I know,” Alex replied, she put her hand on yours, trying to keep you steady. “But I think
 Bucky did what he did out of love. It doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t make it wrong either. It makes it human.”
“So what?” You almost snapped if not for the stray sob that escaped your mouth. “I’m just supposed to forgive him? Pretend like it’s all okay because he meant well?”
“No,” Alex said firmly. “You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to hurt.” She paused, her eyes holding yours. “But ask yourself this: what’s holding on to this anger costing you?”
You knew exactly what it cost you: it cost you your happiness, and his.
—
When you stepped into your apartment, you saw him.
Bucky stood in the kitchen, his back turned to you, shoulders tense he moved around the stove. The soft clatter of utensils and the low hiss of simmering liquor on the burner made your apartment feel like him. 
The scent was rich, warm, and familiar. It was your favourite dish. 
On the table nearby, your clear vase was now home to a bouquet of flowers, your favourite flowers— the ones he always teased you about loving because they never lasted long. You’d playfully huff, telling him it bloomed so beautifully in the short time it had lived. 
They were arranged with painstaking care—one you knew Bucky was capable of. The petals were flawless, the colours vibrant, as if he’d combed through hundreds of blooms to find the most perfect ones.  
“Hey,” he said softly. He turned to face you, his movements careful, as if afraid to shatter the fragile truce between you. 
When his eyes found yours, a tentative smile curved his lips. His voice was different— gentle, stripped of the defensive edge you had expected.
Your breath hitched.
You’d imagined this moment countless times while you were laying in the hospital bed. 
In some versions, your fury took centre stage, unleashed on him like a storm. In others, the anger had dulled, leaving only an all- consuming sadness, refusing to acknowledge he existed all together. 
You had breached for him to plead, to beg. But this? This peace, this tenderness—it wasn’t what you’d prepared for. 
“Hi,” you managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It felt heavy, like the first crack in a dam threatening to spill. You closed the door behind you, and walked to the dinner table, sitting down before your knees gave out.
Bucky turned back to the stove, setting the spoon down, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. He wiped his hands on a towel before walking over to the table. 
His movements were careful, like a man walking a tightrope. “I didn’t want you to come back to
 an empty home. Not again,” he murmured, his hand raking through his hair, as it always did when he was anxious. “So I thought I’d, uh, take care of the place. Until you came back. If you came back.”
You stared at him, then at his careful effort he’d put into making the apartment feel welcoming. After all this time, your home didn’t feel yours anymore— not entirely.. It felt like it belonged to both of you. 
“You didn’t have to do this,” you said finally, your voice trembling. 
“I know,” he said, his voice barely holding steady. His eyes met yours, and for the first time since the hospital, there was no mask, no shield. No defences raised, no excuses. “But I wanted to.”
The vulnerability in his eyes was an invitation, not a deflection.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, breaking the moment as he turned back to the stove.
You nodded, fingers brushing over the soft petals of the flowers. Questions swirled in your mind—so many questions, accusations, words you’d rehearsed over and over. But you didn’t say any of them. Instead, you let him take care of you as you once did— you let him finish dinner.  
When he finally brought the plates over, he sat across from you, his hands resting on his knees like he was bracing for impact. You stared at the food, then at him.
“Thank you,” you said. Picking up your fork felt
 comforting. It felt like home.
“I can go,” he said suddenly, almost panicked. “I’ll do the dishes and leave.”
“No,” you said quickly, the word surprising even yourself. Your chest tightened as you recalled your conversation with Alex, her reminder that he was human, a reminder that healing could only start if you accepted that he could make mistakes. You set your fork down and met his eyes. “I’m ready to talk.”
Bucky hesitated, his fingers tracing anxious patterns along the table. His muscles tightened, his eyes fixed downward as if the weight of what he was about to say could shatter everything between you. “I don’t
 I don’t know where to start.”
You swallowed, the lump forming in your throat. You forced yourself to breathe through it. 
The thought of finally hearing him out was terrifying, but you knew you owed it to yourself. “I don’t care where you start,” you said gently.
His hand stilled in a grip that held the table’s edge a little too tightly. “I know you know I wasn’t always this w-way. This perfect person you’ve known these past few months
 I’ve always wanted to be him, for you.”
His words hit you like a wave, the sincerity pulling at your heartstrings. 
“I never needed you to be perfect, Bucky,” you said, the tremble in your tone almost taking over, “I just needed you to be honest.”
He lifted his gaze then, his eyes clouded with regret, pain, and mostly— shame. “How could I?” He murmured, his voice cracking, “For so long, I thought I was protecting you by keeping parts of myself locked away. By being
 distant. I thought that if I didn’t let you get too close, you’d be better off. Safer. I didn’t
 I didn’t know how t-to justify this change.”
“But why?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. “Why did you think I couldn’t handle it? Why didn’t you trust me enough to let me in?”
He flinched at your tone, his shoulders dropping as if the question had drained him. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking before answering. “Because I didn’t think I deserved you.” He looked at you then, his eyes so full of pain. “I told myself you deserved someone whole, someone who wasn’t
 broken. And I thought that if I kept my distance, you would hate me. But you didn’t. Not until
 not until now.”
But he was wrong. You didn’t hate him— you never could. You hated that he lied, But him? No, you could never bring yourself to hate him.
“So you pushed me away,” you said quietly, a confirmation of what you knew all along.
He nodded, lI thought I could keep my distance and pretend like it was for the best. But every time I was around you, I felt this
 like I couldn’t breathe.”
There it was again. 
He couldn’t breathe around you, he admitted time and again. But not because he hated you. Not because he found your presence suffocating.
It was because you were so damn precious to him that the very thought of sharing the same air as you felt like a privilege he hadn’t earned.
“Instead of facing it,” he continued, “I built a wall around myself.”
Today, his words weren’t excuses; they were admissions. Every letter felt like it cost him a piece of himself.
“I know I hurt you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I know I can’t undo that. But when you lost your memory
 I don’t know. It felt like I had this chance to—to start over. To be the man you deserved. To show you the kind of love I’ve always wanted to give you.”
You blinked back tears. It was like piecing together the puzzle of your past, one fragment of pain at a time. “But you didn’t think to tell me?” you asked, “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”
A pang guilt crossed his face, his mouth falling into a frown. “I should have,” he admitted, “I should’ve told you everything from the start. But I was so scared that if you knew, you’d see the worst of me. That you’d hate me for it. And losing you
 I couldn’t handle... couldn’t think
.”
You wanted to yell at him, to tell him how much his silence had hurt you, how it had made you question everything. But you also understood, in a way that only love could explain. Alex’s little thought experiment made you connect to his fear— the paralysing fear of losing that meant so much to you. 
“I’m not going to pretend this doesn’t hurt,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears welling in your eyes. “I can’t go back to the way things were before, Bucky. No more lies, no more walls. If we’re going to try this— I need to know all of you. The good, the bad, the broken. All of it.”
His eyes widened.
A second chance—after everything he’d hidden from you? 
It seemed impossible— yet here you were, offering it to him.
He hesitated, then reached for your hand, still not believing that he deserved your touch.
When his trembling fingers brushed against yours, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you turned your hand, weaving your fingers through his.
“I promise,” he said, “I’ll be better. I’ll be honest. No more walls, no more hiding.”
His fingers tightened around yours, afraid you might still let go, afraid you might change your mind. 
But you held on, your grip firm “I don’t need you to be perfect,” you repeated. “I just need you to be honest. I need you to let me in.”
His breath faltered, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only thing that could keep him tethered to this earth. “I’ll let you in,” his voice broke. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you made the right choice.”
As you sat there holding his hand, you felt the presence of something stronger than fear—hope.
“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked
Your heartbeat quickened, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his request. 
For a moment, you saw it—the life you both wanted, the way it could feel so right, so safe, in his arms. And yet, the cracks of what you’d been through together were still there. The answer that rose within you wasn’t what you’d expected, but it was clear.
“No.”
The word left your lips gently, but firmly. His thumb froze against your skin, his body tensing. The faintest flicker of hurt crossed his eyes. 
He opened his mouth to apologise, but before he could, you interrupted him.
“I’m not saying no forever,” you said, “But I want to take things slow. I need to trust that this—whatever we’re building now—isn’t just us rushing to cover up the hurt. I need to know it’s real.”
For a moment, he just looked at you. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll go as slow as you need,” he said.
He leaned back slightly, letting his fingers slip from yours.
There was no more resentment, no bitterness— only understanding. 
The two of you continued eating in silence, exchanging glances that lingered just a little longer than usual, small, subtle smiles that promised a fragile piece. Each moment felt like a step forward, like a rebuilding of trust, brick by brick, piece by piece.
When the meal was over, he stood to clear the dishes. As he walked past your chair, he paused. His fingers brushed against your shoulder, a fleeting touch. It wasn’t possessive or pleading anymore. Instead, it was a quiet reminder. I’m here. I’m staying. I’m not going to hide anymore.
And for the first time, you truly believed him. Not because he’d said the right thing, not because he was perfect. But because he was trying. 
Because he was human, and he finally saw himself that way. 
-To be continued

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bunnliix · 2 days ago
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Somebody I used to Know
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I wrote this a couple weeks ago when I was feeling angsty, so this is not a reflection of my mood today, since I got Stray Kids tickets! But, have some angst with this fic because this fic hurts/
Pairing: Chan x reader Summary: You realize the distance between you and Chan, and think about your friendship with the idol. wc: 2.6k Genre: Angst Warnings: Angst (it's really angsty y'all), hurt/no comfort, reader being sad, crying, anxiety, reader having a really rough time here, panicking on the side of Felix and Chan, yelling I think, this is just really sad and we got no happy ending. Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society Beta'd by the lovely @palindrome969
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It had taken you a while to realize just how distant you and Chris had become. You had been friends with him for years, even before he had left for Seoul to pursue being an idol. Despite the long distance between the two of you, your friendship had remained strong, both of you finding time to maintain it and spend time with each other.
Now, you had realized that more and more time passed between the times you would talk with him. It made sense, Chan had gotten busier as time had passed, Stray Kids shooting up in popularity. But it had really been in the last year that he had messaged you less and less. You had to message him first most of the time nowadays, and even then, the likelihood of getting a response quickly, or at all, wasn’t great. You felt like you found out more about what he was up to via social media, than from Christopher himself. You were used to hearing every little thing that happened, both for himself personally, and for his group. You didn’t quite know when that stopped, but it had, and that feeling and realization hurt. You had been one of his closest friends for years, and now you felt that he was an acquaintance, almost a stranger to you.
And now here you sit, in a hotel in Seoul, having planned a trip to see him and the others. Felix had helped you plan this trip, seeing as you hadn’t gotten a chance to see Chan in a couple years now, due to busy social and work lives. You were grateful to the other Aussie, but now as you sat here to unanswered texts from either man, you felt that maybe this trip had been stupid. You figured Felix would make sure that there was time for you two to meet, but you guessed he forgot, even as close as two days ago, when you checked in for the final time before flying here. 
You laid back on the bed, when your phone buzzed and when you pulled it up to your face, you saw it was a message from Chris.
‘Sorry, I can’t talk now. Can we talk later?’
You sighed, feeling tears well in your eyes as you responded, ‘That’s fine. Talk to you later Chris.’
You wallowed in your sadness for a while, losing track of time while you let yourself drown in the silence of the hotel room. You didn’t know what to do now. Felix still hadn’t answered you, and it’s not like you had ever gotten any of the other’s numbers. Sure, you could go to JYPE and try to see him there, but you didn’t think your chances of even getting in would be good. That left you with a trip to Seoul where you now had nothing to do.
After another hour of laying there, you decided to get up, decided to go and explore the city. Because why not? You should at least use your time here wisely, and despite being friends, you had never travelled to or explored Seoul before.
You decided to wander, letting yourself be guided wherever your feet took you, finding yourself walking down side streets filled with little shops and buying whatever caught your eye. You spent the majority of the daytime that remained like this, just finding the little family run shops and cheering yourself up by buying things that made you happy. 
When you returned to the hotel later that evening, having had dinner and carrying multiple bags, you also found yourself getting a message from Felix.
‘Sorry! I was busy today, the group had rehearsals for our concerts in a couple days. Also, there will be a ticket for you, for the concert in two days. You’ll also have backstage access after the concert ends.’ The message said, along with the location of the concert.
Well, you guessed this will be your chance to see Chris then, even if it was just at a concert. You moved to drop your bags on the table in the room, moving to figure out a suitable outfit for a concert. You found more than a couple options, leaving them laid out to ask Felix his thoughts on them later, figuring the idol might have some opinions.
(linebreak)
You looked up at the arena hosting the concert, finding yourself among thousands of your friend’s fans, and somehow seeing the pickets of him and those dressed up like him only made you feel sadder, not happier. You had been effectively ignored by Chris, the man not having messaged you. And that shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did make standing here today even harder. You no longer felt like a friend, you felt like one of their fans. And no hatred to their fans, they’re wonderful people, but you hated being reduced to coming to a concert for a chance to even see him, let alone talk to him. 
You found a staff member, and asked them for directions to where Felix had told you to go, to retrieve your ticket and anything else you needed. You were quickly directed to where you needed to go, finding one of their managers and after proving you were who you said you were, you were then ushered to the line up with the rest of those who had won the battle for floor tickets. You didn’t really care if you were at the front, and found yourself towards the middle of the line. Though this didn’t stay that way for long, finding yourself pulled by a staff member to your rightful place, at least as far as the number on your wristband told you.
Because you had arrived late, and maybe to the displeasure of those around you, you didn’t have to wait too long before you were let into the stadium. You found yourself right against the barrier, despite your wish not to be that close. But here you were, and within a half an hour, the group your friend led was walking out onto the stage for soundcheck.
You watched as they waved at all of their fans, and you guessed you were now included in that category, and you noticed that Felix saw you, smiling and waving at you, which you returned, though you knew your smile was strained. You could see how the blonde wished he could say hello, but this was not the time nor the place, and he was quickly swept back into the group to start the soundcheck rehearsal for the fans. You watched as they performed song after song, and interacted with their fans in between.
Somehow Chris never walked by your side of the stage, though almost every other member had. You instead watched him as he interacted with the crowd of fans, saw the genuine smile on his face as he did, remembering a time when you got those smiles too. You felt tears well in your eyes, and you quickly tried to blink them away, and just as you wished hadn’t happened, Felix walked by and saw the tears in your eyes before you could hide them. You know he saw them, his eyebrows furrowing in concern and worry, but before he could do anything, he was grabbed by Hyunjin, who dragged him away.
You just stared at the stage for the rest of the soundcheck, which thankfully only lasted for another fifteen minutes. You didn’t quite know what to feel anymore, all of your feelings hitting you at once. You moved towards the back of the area you were at, letting others take your spot at the barricade. You didn’t want to be up close anymore, you fear you would sob if you were there the entire time. And being at the back allowed you to stay away from the view of either Aussie idol when it came time for the actual show to start.
(linebreak)
“Y/n’s here tonight,” Felix said, as he sat down next to Chan.
“What? She’s here?” Chan said, confused. How was she here at the concert, let alone in South Korea? He didn’t know she was supposed to be here, and she should have told him that she was here.
Felix nodded, “Yeah, she’s out in the crowd. She looked like she was going to cry at one point,” he said, both to himself and to Chan, a bit confused at Chan’s reactions. Felix had told the older Aussie that his friend was coming to Korea to see him. How could he have forgotten? He remembered it clear as day, he told the older man while he had been in the studio with 3racha.
“Oh,” Chan said, not sure what to say. He didn’t really know what to do with that. Maybe she was just emotional to finally be able to see him performing? To his knowledge, she had never gotten the chance to see him or the group as a whole perform live.
Before Felix could say anything more, their manager stuck his head into the green room, interrupting anything the blonde was going to say, “Guys, five minutes till show time, let’s go.”
Felix lost any chance of saying anything further, as the group of eight men walked out to start their concert.
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The start of the actual concert came very quickly, and you watched as they all came out, their energy insanely high, and even as your emotions swirled within you, and the realizations of what your choices were, you felt yourself be absorbed into that energy as well.
You were merely an observer within the thousands of fans, feeling like you were on the outside of it all. You watched every interaction Chan had with fans, and though you knew it wasn’t the same, you realized that his happiness here was more than you had ever received in recent times. He seemed lively, happy, enjoying life, and as the concert continued, you realized that you no longer had a place in his life.
You realized that no amount of effort you could put into this friendship would make it work. Chan had stopped putting the effort in, and maybe it was time for you to do the same. Taking one long look at your friend on stage, seeing him looking over towards you, though you doubt he even saw you, you saw him smiling and happy, and that was the best way you could think to remember him. You only ever wanted him to be happy, and maybe his happiness didn’t include you anymore. 
Feeling a tear trail down your cheek, you turned and started walking away from the floor, and walking away from your shot at talking to Christopher. You knew that you could have taken the chance to talk to Chris and figure all of this out, but would it really do anything with how much the friendship had died already? 
You silently walked out of the stadium, a clear contrast to all the happy and excited fans who filled the stadium. You had located one of their managers, who had been alerted to your presence, by their recognition of you, and returned the lanyard that would have granted you backstage access. You told them, when asked, that you weren’t feeling well, and that you were returning to your hotel.
It took a while to get back to your hotel room, and instead of changing, you just crawled into the bed and laid there, zoning out and staring up at the ceiling as tears fell down your cheeks. You didn’t know how long you laid there, until your phone started buzzing like crazy, and you found that both Felix and Chan were messaging you. You numbly read through their messages, and as you took a couple deep breaths, you created a group chat for the three of you. 
You first thanked Felix for doing his best to get you and Chan the opportunity to meet up again and hang out. Because you were thankful. He had been helping you do this, as well as informing Chan about it, all while being busy himself. You even thanked him for the concert ticket, and that you were grateful to see them live, just once. As you kept typing, messages from the two came flooding in, each one more concerned than the last. When Felix stopped typing, you think he must have come to one of two conclusions, either you were ending the friendship, or doing something worse than that.
‘Christopher, I will always cherish our memories together, the decade long friendship that we shared. But I think we’re on different paths now, I think fate has said that our journey ends here. So with a heavy heart, I wish you all the best, and I’ll always love you, even though we won’t get to talk anymore. Goodbye Chris.’’
You left the group chat after that, not seeing any of the responses from either idol, and while it took you a moment to push yourself to do it, you deleted both of their numbers. Setting your phone down and ignoring the buzzing, you pulled your laptop out, deciding to cut your trip short, and rebooking your flight to leave midday tomorrow. You knew that as much as you’d like to stay here longer, if you wanted to avoid contact with your now ex-friend, it would be better to leave.
You then moved to pack up your things, not that you had many to begin with, as well as laying out your comfiest outfit for the morning, and packing away the outfit you had on currently. But not before taking one last selfie in it, so you could look back on this day, as sad as it would be.
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You had arrived at the airport a couple hours early, having checked out of your hotel room early, knowing Felix had known what hotel you were in, and hoping to avoid that interaction. Thankfully the check-in process was quick, seeing as you were there much earlier than others would be, and it was just under 30 minutes before you were making your way over to security. You were in line waiting to enter security when you heard someone call out your name. You turned your head to find Chan, a hat and mask on, but neither hid his eyes, his eyes that were red and bloodshot as he stared right at you.
“Please! Talk to me!” Chan begged you, standing on the other side of the barrier that separated the two of you.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to muster up the words to respond to him. You knew this was the coward’s way out, but you just turned around and moved into security all while he kept calling out to you, his cries getting more desperate.
You went through security, knowing that he was still on the other side hoping that you’d turn around and come back out. But you couldn’t.
Instead, once you passed through security, you opened up your phone to send him one more text.
‘I’m sorry it had to end like this, Chris. I’m truly sorry. I’m a coward who can’t muster up the words to explain why, but this is better for both of us. I won’t have to worry if you really still want to be friends or if I still have a place in your life, and you can forget about me and continue making your fans happy.’
You knew you could absolutely be the villain in this story, and you were okay being that. No matter what, you couldn’t hurt him. Chris was too good for you to ever do that. You turned your notifications off as you put your phone in your pocket, heading to your gate, and leaving this all behind.
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Taglist: @bethelighthalazia
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hanniejji · 2 days ago
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birthdays and burnt pancakes
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— hoshina soshiro x gn!reader
— notes: and it's a comeback! thank fuck for a consistent job schedule oh my god. coming back to writing with an 8-12 hours job is a risky take since rest is a luxury itself, but im gonna give it my very best! happy birthday to my husband i love him so much wtf | [masterlist]
words: 715 | warnings: suggestive but no nasty.
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“y'know, i always thought one of the best things to wake up to is you cuddled up to me in one of my shirts.”
“oh my god,” your hand tightened their hold around the handle of the pan, the other retreating its grip on the spatula in favor of clutching into a fist at your chest from fright.
“you scared the fuck out of me,” you hissed and glared pointedly at the smug man.
soshiro, ever the sly man, remains hunched behind the kitchen island, chin propped on his palm with his watchful gaze looking over your busy form with a grin. if you weren't so caught up in the way his sudden appearance took you by surprise, you would've spent some time admiring how untroubled he seemed to be at the moment, so unlike his stiff and composed self on duty.
relaxation, to someone with soshiro's occupation, is luxury itself.
“what can i say?” he hums, “the view is too good for me not to say so out loud.”
“oh shush it,” you turn around to face the frying pan with a grumble, scooping and flipping the pancake.
you hear him suppress his laughter before he shuffles around the kitchen island to stand behind you. calloused and firm hands rest upon either side of your hips, the familiar touch never failing to bring goosebumps along your spine. more so at the warmth of his breath on the skin of your nape.
“you should go back to bed, i'll finish this up in a moment.”
“but i miss you.”
you can hear the pout in his voice. what a whiny man.
“we have the day to ourselves, love,” you turn your head to place a quick peck on the corner of his lips. “i just want to bring my birthday boy his breakfast in bed and then we can go about your day however you want us to spend it, okay?”
“oh? what if i have a different breakfast in mind, hm?” he hums against your ear, fingers now rising up and under your(his) shirt to feel your skin, “one that is currently right in the palm of my hands?”
“you're insatiable and it hasn't even been hours through the morning.”
he snickers at the deadpan tone of your voice, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch you pour the batter in the pan to make another batch, wordlessly complying to your earlier request with a fond look in his eyes.
such a domestic activity and it's driving him insane with all the possibilities of a future spending each and every morning like this with you—ending each and every night with you.
oh god, he's really all in with you, isn't he?
“i really do love the sight of you making breakfast for the both of us early in the morning,” he hums contentedly, the smile on his face obvious from the tone of his voice. “makes me want to marry the life out of you.”
the mention of such commitment escaping his lips so casually brought a flurry of warmth to your cheeks and a funny feeling in your stomach. you know hoshina soshiro well enough to know that he wouldn't spew such things if he doesn't mean them in the slightest. perhaps he says it as a way to seal a promise to you without directly addressing the matter. in any case, it will be a topic for a different day, when the both of you are ready to tackle that stage in your relationship. you do nothing to deny or oppose his statement.
“although,” he drags out a playful tone, “nothing will beat the sight of your disheveled hair sprawled across your pillow, dazed look on your face from lust with your lips parted while we–”
“how are you this horny so early in the morning?” you abruptly elbowed his torso in a futile attempt to save yourself from embarrassment and further teasing.
“also, stop bothering me while i'm cooking!”
“i was merely stating a fact!” he jested with a chime of giggles, nuzzling his face into your hair and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his chest.
“i can't help it when you're being this adorable first thing in the morning!”
“i'm going to feed you burnt pancakes.”
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— © 2024 do not copy and repost my works!
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fic-dumpster · 1 day ago
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Deer in Headlights | Panic arrives at the office
Summary: Working as Sanzu’s secretary for a day wasn't so bad; he was rarely in his office, so you had to handle most of his paperwork and appointments. Where was he? Who knows

Pairing: Bonten x F!Reader
Word count: 2.4k+
Content Warnings: Plot development, feelings with sprinkles of angst (eww), reverse harem, fluff, brief mention of violence and death. This is part of a series! Just adding that for new readers.
A.N: Finally freeing one of the old wips which I rewrote like five times because i couldn’t remember what I was doing. Anyway! Enjoy more of this never-ending series of unfortunate events surrounding Doe and her harem. K bye 💋
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You asked Mikey if you could stay at their workplace longer since being at home was becoming duller and duller. He agreed, but as always when it comes to anything involving you, nothing happens in this household without a fight.
At first, Takeomi objected and would only allow this ridiculous idea if you were his assistant, then Kakucho added that he also needed help. But then backtracked. He remembered his position as an enforcer and didn’t want you to see him like
 that— so yeah, discarded.
Meanwhile, Kokonoi laughed in their faces. mentioning how he was the one who spent more time sitting down on his desk— buried in paperwork— and that's why you should be with him. The safest option, according to him.
Surprisingly, the infamous Bonten trio had been quiet the whole time. Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu seemed very uninterested in acquiring you for help. Such a reaction from your pack of hyperactive golden retrievers left you puzzled.
Your incertitude didn’t last long. Later you found out that they didn't want you with them due to the nature of their jobs too, just like Kakucho earlier. The more gruesome parts of Bonten always fell on their shoulders as well.
Not soon after you heard Kokonoi explain their unusual silence, he also added a few extra details. Such details gave you the final push to decide who gets a new helping hand.
Kokonoi gave the longest speech you’ve ever heard him say about Sanzu. The silver-haired individual went on and on about Sanzu never submitting reports on damage, expenses, casualties, and a whole bunch of other desk work.
Sanzu argued that it was utterly ridiculous and unnecessary since everything would be destroyed by the next day. Still, you watched them ping-pong about such
 matters for a while.
That's the main reason why you decided to choose Sanzu. And that's what you are doing right now. Sitting outside the door to the pinknette’s office in a new desk that Kokonoi insisted on arranging for you, even added a new desktop setup and all.
The whole morning was pretty calm. Kakucho came by and left some sweets for you, then Ran and Rindou took you out for lunch, and Mikey passed and snatched some of the sweets Kakucho gave you.
Everything seemed normal. it wasn’t until a little after noontime when the scorching sun hit the blinds that a shadow fell over your desk. Looking up from your papers, there stood a tall man—a dangerous-looking man, you might add. A distinctive tattoo was peeking from the neck of his well-tailored suit, strikes of blue and white adorned his hair. The alarms in your head activated for the first time since you were with Bonten. Which meant that danger was imminent.
He greeted you, although his gaze was not on you but looking at his surroundings. Observing and analyzing.
“I’m here to see Bonten’s numbers two,” that was all he said, not sparing you a second glance.
Panic settled in your guts. Sanzu never told you about a scheduled meeting, nor that someone might be asking for him today. You felt that denying something to this individual was not a good answer and how you wished you had followed your instincts.
“I’m sorry, Sir, he's not here at the moment, but you can-” You were cut short when, out of nowhere, a hand hit on your desk, sending papers and pens flying everywhere.
“Call him, then,” now he did pay attention to you, yellow eyes scanning every inch of your features, “or not.”
he stepped closer to your desk, somehow, you felt he was about to break the wood and glass with his palm still there. He then proceeded to bend over, just a little, to have a closer look at you. And it was like recognition hit him and his eyes seemed to acquire a playful glint, “I don’t think he would mind if his secretary keeps me company.”
You felt your breath hitch in your throat. You froze under his scrutinizing eyes. As still as you were, your fingers itched to bash the keyboard on his face. What was this slimy feeling covering you, overwhelming you? A sudden thought shot through your mind
 you were no cheap whore.
That’s what you wanted to scream at him, at least. But you held back— or more like, you were out of options. The fact that he was standing inside Bonten’s building unharmed and without an escort spoke volumes about the caliber of this individual.
Why was such a short interaction setting off all your distress signals? Why was your throat screaming for air even as you breathe? Cold fingertips and a racing heart were the least of your worries at the moment.
Damn, Sanzu and his unorganized schedule and his lack of communication and
 you would have continued to mentally berate him if the previously mentioned individual hadn’t stepped around your desk and offered you his hand.
“What do you say we take a walk?” As much of a question as it sounded like, your instinct told you that there was not really an option to decline.
“My boss wouldn’t like me leaving my position
” you articulated with gritted teeth. Against your best judgment, you tried to kindly refuse with an excuse involving Sanzu.
“I’m sure he would make an exception for me,” those were his last words before one of his hands steered you away from your just-acquired desk.
And that’s how you were now walking away from your new desk and going to who knows where. Every step was a scream you swallowed. Again you wondered, what was your instinct detecting from him that your consciousness couldn’t comprehend?
He mentioned his name was Taiju and that you should be careful working in such a precarious organization, such a feeble thing as yourself shouldn’t be exposed to an all-male environment and he kept going on about it.
This
 Taiju individual placed his hand on your lower back. Dangerously low. Too low for your liking. So much so that you even hurried your step to create some distance but it was futile.
As if they had heard your silent prayers, Rindou and Kokonoi arrived just in time to see your back being led away from your supposed workplace. Both men felt like cold buckets of water had been thrown at them, blood freezing as a picture they never imagined possible now rose in from of their very own eyes.
You heard your name being called, well, almost screamed. The big guy halted his steps and you followed soon after, both turning to the screaming duo at your backs.
“You can’t take her.” Rindou asserted with a very forced smile, hands already on their way to reach you and bolt if necessary.
“Why is that?” The blue-haired individual inquired.
“Because she’s—“
“She’s my girlfriend!”
Both Rindou and Kokonoi spoke at the same time respectively, the latter with more urgency than the other but the message was clear enough. You were not to be taken away just like that.
“Oh? Congratulations! I never expected you to settle down, Hajime-kun. I thought you would be with Sei—“
“Nonsense,” quickly replied the silver-haired man before moving beside you and hastily pulling you towards his body; avid fingers replaced the previous hand on your lower back—gripping your skin tightly.
“Then why is she with Pinky? Shouldn’t you be taking better care of your women?” Taiju bellowed, eyes analyzing how his old acquaintance held you with so much affection and care. It was clear to anyone witnessing the two people in front of him, how Kokonoi was desperately but subtly in a hurry to erase any trace of Taiju’s touch from you.
“Yeah, Koko, you should take better care of your woman,” Rindou added, internally biting his cheeks to stop himself from laughing at how unexpected of a reaction his colleague had. Forgotten was the panic no soon you were in his fellow member’s arms. Now he decided to play along just for the laughs.
Meanwhile, you were face-pressed against a hard chest and an expensive button. You would have an imprint of Koko’s button on your face, you thought as you silently groaned in frustration; but eternally grateful for their opportune interruption.
“I am,” Kokonoi sent death glares towards Rindou who seemed to forget where you had been a minute ago. He cursed his fellow member’s fish brain. Sending a nod to his old acquaintance, Koko mumbled a hurried goodbye and disappeared with you in his arms.
The remaining two were left standing, watching silver locs wave like a cape.
“That’s an
 interesting character development, I must say.”
“He’s pussy whipped,” the purple head commented, dismissively as he took Taiju toward his own office. Of course, the pot calling the kettle black. Well, Rindou talked from first-hand experience.
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How does he tell you that he panicked? How does he tell you that you might not have been in danger, but his mind refused to understand? How does he explain his actions when they are not consistent with how he always treats you?
Kokonoi Hajime knows it doesn’t make sense what he did or what he’s feeling. It had nothing to do with Taiju but everything to do with you.
He sat in silence with you on his lap, arms wrapped around you tightly as his mind circled over his latest silent outburst. Sanzu’s office wasn’t the coziest place but it would have to work for now.
Air was something you certainly knew you needed in order to live. You hoped you didn’t have to remind Koko of that fact as he kept tightening his grip as time passed.
Up and down, your eyes gazed over his side profile. The few details you could see from your perspective—face harshly compressed against him—seemed to suggest he was not here completely. The lost look he wore was new to you.
“Koko?” You mumbled curiosity and worry mixed together within you. After a while, the odd silence didn’t quite sit well with you. “Koko?” You called out his name for a second time, squirming in his constricted grasp in an attempt to get his attention.
“Hum?” He seemed lost as he hummed a response. Slowly blinking away whatever thoughts had captured him for the last several minutes.
You knew talking things with him was hard, you didn’t wanna say the wrong things and make him lock you out. That’s why you had waited in place, letting him process whatever happened in the hall. It was so uncharacteristic of him to claim you in public or even touch you in front of others. You had expected Rindou to make a scene but never from Kokonoi.
After another prolonged silence, you went for the safest route. Asking for the only phrase that stuck with you. “So I’m your girlfriend?”
“Of course, you are, dummy,” he whispered with a dry chuckle; cradling your head against his chest—not once did his grip loosened. You felt words weren’t needed at the moment, something told you just to be there for him.
Kokonoi wanted to reaffirm you were real, you were still there, you weren’t a product of his mind
 like his younger self used to imagine.
Maybe that was it? The image of you simply walking away; your back facing him tormented him now. He felt like his old self again, the one who lost so much and the little he was left with he kept it under a thousand locks. His mind and body remembered the devastating events and the pain
 the pain of having something so dear to you again and how easy it was for life to take everything away in the blink of an eye.
Fear paralyzes. That’s when he realized he was afraid, but also
 in love. Love doesn’t make sense; it’s the only part of the equation he could never calculate accurately.
He was so in love, that he acted out of character—vulnerable and raw. Only you had been able to bring that back out from the innumerable hard shells covering his heart.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You might not know that your words were just what he needed. Saying whatever was at the tip of your tongue has always been a talent of yours.
“Thank you,” he said softly, unwavering. you both stayed intertwined in the coach until darkness fell.
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Somewhere in Japan near an abandoned port.
“You did this on purpose, did you not?” Mochi accused the pink-haired man after checking the message Rindou had sent to the group chat.
“Dunno what you mean,” rebuked Sanzu.
ah, so feigning ignorance now, was it? Mochi sent him a questioning gaze. “Sanzu
”
“It’s a sign that she wasn’t supposed to be there. She’s perfectly safe at our place and I don’t need help with paperwork.” He nonchalantly told Mochi. “Hey! Roll out the tarp! I don’t want any mess here!” Sanzu bellowed at the henchmen around him.
“Nah, I agree. You knew.” Ran taunted him, walking toward the now laid-out tarp. “You knew at what time Koko was going to check on her with Rindou and Taiju just magically went straight to your office with no problem? Ha, right.”
Kakucho heard the conversation and nodded in agreement with Ran. Bonten’s enforcer would have engaged in the accusation party but three cold bodies rested at his feet and nobody else seemed to have his mind on the job at the moment. He barked orders to the footmen who were taking too long to move the deceased.
“No, it was Takeomi.”
Every Bonten member perked up at the information their leader was providing them with. Takeomi froze in place as four pairs of eyes focused on him. Mikey on the other hand, sat a top of a wooden pallet tower; munching carelessly on some snacks.
“Well, now it makes sense. It was too much of a good plan to be yours.” Ran commented out loud with a laugh.
“Excuse me? I was part of the plan!” Argued Sanzu like a hissing kitten.
“Didn’t you just say you didn’t know?”
Sanzu looked at Mochi with exasperation as the sound of something heavy hitting the plastic tarp resonated in the background.
“You approved, though,” mentioned Takeomi who was standing close to Mikey.
“Sometimes it’s better to let a bird clash against the glass. It learns that sometimes no matter how clear the path looks, you can’t always fly at your heart’s content.” Mikey said as he dusted off the remaining pieces of crackers from his dark shirt. “And eventually
 it won’t fly in that direction ever again.”
“And Koko?” Mused Kakucho joined the two men conversing.
“He needed a push in the right direction. He’s as hardheaded as always.” Chuckled Takeomi before tasking a drag of his cigarette.
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k0mmari · 4 hours ago
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Okay people, I need to talk about IDOL!Shen Yuan AU before I explode (aka slight Aggretsuko inspired office au
..)
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I’ll try to make this short for once jdvfhbjdhbvdf, but basically SY has been (forcefully) made to work for his brother(SJ) in the family company, after SJ decided enough was enough, and SY was going to do something with his life besides rotting away in his bed whether he liked it or not. The thing is, he wasn’t (just) rotting in bed reading atrocious novels, but he also took some time to experiment with music as a hobby, and over time, he grew a small following.
Though, after he was dragged to work at SJ’s side, the ever boring of dealing with paperwork and staring at white walls was eating at him. It’s not like he struggled doing his job, in fact, he was quite good at it, but he wasted no effort to make it very clear that he did not like that he was there in the first place. So, in an act of rebellion and to just do SOMETHING other than feel every passing second of the day in a cubicle, he decided to work even harder in his music hobby. It eventually led to SJ finding out and sparing no words to say that SY needed to focus on his real job, which only made SY brat out even harder, even managing to find an alternative music club and booking a few performances.
It went great! More people showed up than he expected, and all went great, but since his health was still not the best, after that he basically spent a whole month crashed out, not being able to do any more performances and barely able to go to the office once a week.
Anyways, it all led to SY thinking he had proved SJ right that he couldn’t continue this life style, and even thinking about quitting it, but one day while he was scrolling on the comments on one of his MVs (aka a Fancy Lyric Video), one of the comments mentioned that SY was one of the most important influences for that person, and that it inspired them to start pursuing music. It was the first time he had received a comment of that nature, and it lit the fire of his motivation back up.
Some 2 years passed, SJ still kept SY at the office, but SY had reached a nice balance on his online music work and performances on that club, and as his popularity grew, his performances at that one club had almost turned into a whole event for his most dedicated fans. So, enter Luo Binghe:
He was that comment that SY had read, and he did want to try music after being a fan of SY’s for almost three years now, but due to his financial situation he desperately needed some other source of income first. Now, at his last year of college, he managed to get an internship onto the Shen family’s company, which was a huge step forward towards his dreams, unfortunately he just had to go under SJ, which as we all know, was never kind to Binghe, instead acting as if the boy should just give up the internship entirely. And Binghe did think about it, but it seemed as if the stars had aligned for Binghe at least once, and SJ, after getting a sudden influx of work, delegated Binghe to SY.
They got on quite well, and Binghe even grew to have a little crush on SY, but it was all going fine and great until one fateful day. The office was as boring as ever, and after SY let Binghe know they wouldn’t have to entertain any clients for the day, Binghe decided to work on his part while listening to some music of his favorite artist.
Binghe has an awful habit of listening to music worryingly loud, so when SY went to get him to explain his new task, he ended up listening to what Binghe was hearing: his own music, in fact, his newest song. He pondered telling Binghe about the coincidence, but decided that maybe would be overstepping some professional boundary, and instead told Binghe about his one music club SY had heard about

Binghe, excited to get to know more places around the area (and maybe understanding what SY did in his free time), decided to go to the club the next week after work, and did not even think about checking who would be performing in the day he would visit. Imagine his surprise when he gets to the door of the music club and hears some awfully famíliar music, and after rushing to be as close to the stage as possible, besides being blinded by his favorite artist’s greatness, also noticed that, hey, the artist looked an awful lot like a certain coworker of his
.
Anyways, shenanigans ensue, Binghe starts his own investigation on SY possibly being the artist, SY juggling his office life, music career, and SJ perhaps coming to accept his brother’s career, and even maybe revealing a bit about his own past with music performances.
That’s all I had for today, just wanted to release this into the world! If anyone wants to expand on this, or try their on take on it, feel more than free to! Here are some more doodles of the usual day at the office :)
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rose24207 · 15 hours ago
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Fourth time’s the charm
Summary: In which Lando tries to confess to you but gets interrupted every single time.
Genre: Fluff
TW: None!
A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Masterlist
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Lando Norris had always been confident in most areas of his life. When it came to racing, he was a force to be reckoned with.
But when it came to matters of the heart, especially when it involved you, his confidence wavered like a leaf in the wind.
You had this way of making him feel as if he had never once had a solid thought in his head.
Everything about you was magnetic. The way you laughed at his jokes, even when they were terrible, the way you listened so intently when he rambled about his day.
You’d spent weeks teasing him gently, making him feel like you could read his mind—and it only made him fall harder.
It was impossible not to notice how effortlessly beautiful you were.
You were self-assured, sharp, and witty—traits that made him admire you from the sidelines. Every time you caught his eye, a fluttering sensation took over his chest.
He had to make a move.
It was just... well, asking you out seemed like such a monumental step.
The problem was that Lando had been trying to ask you out for weeks. And for some bizarre cosmic reason, every time he gathered the courage, something always seemed to interrupt him.
Today, he was determined.
Today would be different.
He would ask you out, and he wouldn’t let anyone get in his way.
Attempt One: The McLaren Hospitality Suite
It was early in the day.
Lando was sitting in the McLaren hospitality suite, sipping on a cup of coffee while trying to distract himself from the million thoughts racing through his mind.
He’d seen you earlier, sitting at a table, engrossed in your laptop. Your usual relaxed air and the way you made everything look so effortless only made him admire you more.
He watched you for a few moments, silently working up the nerve. He’d spent the last hour trying to figure out how to phrase it perfectly, but nothing sounded right. It didn’t matter how much time he spent perfecting the words; all that mattered was asking you.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said, making his move, trying to keep his voice casual.
You looked up from your screen, eyebrows lifting. “Oh, hey! What’s up?”
He cleared his throat, doing his best to sound confident. “I was wondering if—”
“Lando, mate!”
A loud voice cut through the moment like a knife. It was Carlos Sainz, entering the room with his usual jovial energy.
He clapped a hand on Lando’s shoulder, his enthusiasm evident.
“Have you seen the new lap data? It’s insane.”
Lando’s mouth snapped shut as Carlos carried on, excitedly talking about telemetry and tire wear.
He shot you an apologetic glance, but the moment was gone.
Carlos continued on, oblivious to the tension he’d just interrupted, leaving Lando feeling helpless.
As the conversation continued, Lando’s thoughts drifted back to you, only to be pulled away again and again by the sound of Carlos babbling.
The universe, it seemed, was against him.
Attempt Two: The Paddock
Later that afternoon, Lando found himself in the paddock area, looking for an opportunity to talk to you.
You were standing near the barriers, deep in conversation with a reporter.
Lando’s gaze immediately fixed on you.
The way you smiled and laughed, and the ease with which you made even the most mundane conversation feel important, was irresistible.
Now was his chance.
He walked over, trying to calm the nervous flutter in his chest. As he reached you, his heart pounded in his ears. “Y/N,” he called, smiling slightly.
”Can I steal you for a second?”
You looked up from your conversation, your expression turning curious.
“Of course,” you said, politely excusing yourself from the reporter.
But as he opened his mouth to speak, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.
“Lando, media’s waiting. We need you now.” It was his PR manager, pointing at him with a sense of urgency.
Lando exhaled sharply, frustrated. He shot you an apologetic look.
“I’ll catch you later,” he said quickly, before being whisked away.
You gave him a soft, understanding smile.
”No worries, Lando. Go on.”
And just like that, another chance slipped through his fingers.
Attempt Three: The Team Dinner
By evening, Lando had almost resigned himself to the idea that today was just not going to be the day.
The entire McLaren crew had gathered at a restaurant to celebrate the end of a successful race weekend.
Lando had been looking forward to the dinner all day, but now all he could think about was how he’d barely spoken to you.
As dessert was being served, Lando noticed you leaning in, chatting with a couple of teammates. His heart skipped as he found the courage to finally act.
“Y/N,” he said, voice a little quieter than usual as he leaned forward to catch your attention.
You looked up, that familiar warm smile spreading across your face as your eyes met his. “Hmm?”
Lando swallowed hard. This was it. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
But before he could continue, the entire restaurant seemed to erupt into chaos.
“Toast time!” someone shouted from across the table, causing everyone to rise and cheer. Glasses clinked, laughter filled the air, and suddenly all eyes were on the celebration, drowning out Lando’s attempt.
He groaned inwardly, sinking back into his seat, helpless as the conversation moved on.
He was starting to feel like the universe was intentionally torturing him.
Final Attempt: Under the Stars
It was well past dinner, and the team was slowly filtering out of the restaurant. Lando, however, found himself lingering outside, hoping for one last chance to speak with you.
The night air was cool, and the city lights cast a soft glow over everything.
You were standing near the curb, talking to a few friends, laughing in that carefree way of yours.
Lando watched you for a few moments, once again finding himself paralyzed by your presence.
He took a deep breath and walked over.
“Y/N,” he said softly, cutting through the noise of the city.
You turned to face him, your smile instantly appearing, a sense of calm washing over him as he looked into your eyes.
“What’s up?” you asked.
Lando opened his mouth, finally prepared to say the words he’d been rehearsing all day.
“I... I’ve been trying to talk to you all day,” he admitted, laughing nervously. “But every time I’ve tried, something’s happened. Carlos, the media, the team, even toast time—”
You laughed, the sound sweet and genuine, like music to his ears. “I noticed,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been acting a little off.”
He chuckled nervously, his heart beating wildly. “I guess I’m just... I’m just nervous,” he admitted.
“About what?”
“About asking you out,” he said in a rush, finally pushing past the nerves.
“I like you. A lot. And I’ve been trying to ask you for weeks, but I didn’t know how.”
You stared at him, the soft night breeze swirling around the both of you. For a moment, everything felt still.
“I... I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just that every time I’m around you, I feel... I feel like I don’t know how to act.”
You took a step forward, closing the distance between you.
“Lando,” you said softly, “you could’ve just asked.”
And just like that, the floodgates opened. The tension, the hesitation—it all melted away in the warmth of your gaze.
Lando could only smile, feeling the weight of his fears lift as he finally said the words that had been bottled up inside him.
“Will you go out with me?” he asked, his voice genuine.
You smiled, your eyes sparkling under the soft glow of the streetlights. “Yes, Lando. I will.”
And for the first time that day, there were no interruptions.
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Thank you for reading!
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acesw · 3 days ago
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Knowing our Arcanists 6: Bkornblume
Welcome to entry six of my series: "Knowing our Arcanists"! This is a series in which I introduce and tell the stories of our fellow characters in Reverse: 1999. Today's character is: Bkornblume!
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Bkorn's got a funny nickname, since its just a mash-up of blue and kornblume. (cornflower) However, she's got quite the short yet nice story, so I'll at the very least make it worth. Lets get started.
Bkornblume is a German arcanist born in the 1980's, born on February 9th. While I have no direct understanding of her arcane skill, I can at distinct that her skill involves sound, and is able to hear smaller sounds (like whispers) that are usually left unheard in the bigger melody.
She's a spy who works under the Ministerium fĂŒr Staatssicherheit, known in English as the Minister of Security, or more commonly known as the "Stasi." They were the state security and secret police of East Germany, who placed eyes everywhere in the former state.
East Germany has been known for its oppressive rule and its insistence for uniformity. The Stasi were meant to maintain state authority at the time but it was notoriously known as being one of the most oppressive police states, overlooking the lives of the state's civilians with intense surveillance, torture, and intimidation.
Most will conform, some will not. Of course, Bkornblume was not one of the people who wanted to immerse in her part of the role in this era. She's merely a listener who does her job as one.
Bkornblume grew up in Berlin, becoming part of the Stasi and is well-known for her arcane skill. She doesn't enjoy this job very much, but she also does to some degree as she's a good listener. She'll leave a bit of unheard commentary about everything she'll hear.
Her daily life tends to be just her listening and transcribing, but it can be said that she enjoys distracting herself and tends to delay her travels to work to take in the scenery. She's also spied on too. But she feels that she would be more uncomfortable if there weren't any eyes on her.
At one point, she had purchased her scarf (and the elk brooch that came with it) in a shop that was closing down. While not remembering the price, it costed a month's salary "and a funny joke which was rarely heard in East Berlin."
Bkornblume is a conformed and optimistic individual. However, she holds a quiet rebellion in her heart, dreaming of a world where everyone can practice freedom of speech. But with a colourful dream far away because of the dull walls around her, she'll only ever do the little things that she could do in her job. Calling for help, making that commentary, but especially endlessly writing. Even then, she's aware that she can't change everything in one go, so she'll try step by step as she speaks out for others.
It can't be denied that Bkornblume spent most of her time "alone," but she enjoys having those eyes on her. She would have wondered if she were dead if not. Like I said earlier, she's greatly optimistic in everything she does, and even believes that she's some sort of "undiscovered radio host." She wishes to become one in the future to comfort others in late nights. Bkornblume hopes that she's at the very least observed and acknowledged.
She's also a greatly mundane and relaxed person, enjoying the simplicity of life and even interacting with simple "contraband" that never really seems to be harmful, like flowers.
Bkornblume finds admiration in the pieces of wildlife that bloomed from old cracks, identifying them time to time such as cornflowers and chrysanthemums. She'll always find some in the most niche places and will share where to find them.
The cornflowers—kornblume in German—are why she took up her current nickname, as she had wanted to distinguish herself from the "countless other unfeeling names" like SCH KA/#.
She empathizes with others greatly and wishes to help them directly, but she can never cross the monitor to take action now can she? She'll shift around the stories of other people in her reports, and no beneficiary ever thinks twice about it as her reports are detailed and easily convincing. Her kindness reaches quite far despite her ways of wanting to express it being a little unethical.
She'll hear anything and everything meant to be hidden away, but hopes for a free world and will choose to grant peace and freedom to the innocent and defiant against such oppressive control.
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solsticescribe · 11 hours ago
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Part 1 of The Greatest Showman AU
18 days.
18 days have passed since he last saw you. Since he lost his last job as a bodyguard he has been going around the country, taking part in different cage fights to get his mind off of what happened and off of you (he wasn't too successful so far). Besides, he got to earn some money in the process too, but one particular night changed his life completely.
He just finished his fight at another dingy bar in the middle of nowhere when two men approached him, looking for a fight. Revealing his claws, he was forced to leave. Once again. This is what happens every single time. It just makes him hate his claws more and more.
He got into his van, starting the engine and going wherever the road would take him, when suddenly he heard a thud from the back. He stopped and got out to investigate what made the sound, only to find the girl he saw in the bar hiding in the trailer.
"What are you doing here?" He asked. "I'm sorry, I needed a ride. Thought you might help me" She answered while climbing out. Logan threw her bag on the ground. He didn't wish for company, let alone the company of a kid. "Where am I supposed to go?" "I don't know" He spat back, turned around, planning to drive off. "Don't know or don't care?" "Pick one" He shut the door and started driving, but didn't get too far before his conscience made him stop to wait for her.
Having someone sitting in the car with him again was definitely unfamiliar and something that he thought he wouldn't experience anytime soon. "I'm Rogue" She said, breaking the silence. Logan said nothing but felt her eyes studying him. He took a cigar out of his pocket, tucking it between his teeth before searching his pockets for something to light it with. He finally pulled out a lighter, simple gray, engraved all over with different designs and patterns. Lighting the cigar with it, he kept playing with it for a while before reaching to put it away. "I'm feeling a bit cold. Would you mind if a used that for a second?" Rogue asked and reached her hand towards the lighter in his hand, black gloves covering her. Logan quickly pulled the lighter out of her reach, shoving it back into his pocket. "Not this one, kid. Put your hands on the heater." She was taken aback but pulled her hands back onto her lap. "Looks like you spent a lot of money on it" Rogue was met with silence again for a couple seconds before she heard him mutter "It was a gift". A precious one, from none other than you. One of the last keepsakes he has from the happiest period of probably his life, but certainly the happiest in his existing memory. There were not many things Logan was scared of, but forgetting you was his worst nightmare. He kept every precious moment with you in his memory, the only things making him keep going on until he can come back for you. Until he can provide you with a life you deserve and he feels good enough for you. Counting the days keeps him focused on his one goal, to get back to you.
"You should take off the gloves" He said when seeing Rogue trying to warm her hands on the heater with the gloves still on. "I probably shouldn't. Can't risk touching you." Logan glanced at her, used to people fearing him. Not you. You were never afraid of him and you made sure to remind him as many times as possible. Damn, he was thinking of you again. "Nothing personal, it's just - when people touch my skin, something happens" She continued. "What?" "I don't know. They just get hurt" Logan kept silent, his suspicion confirmed that Rogue was indeed a mutant as well. "Do they hurt when they come out?" She asked, glancing at his hands where she saw the claws coming out from in the bar. "Every time"
The memory of you seeing his claws for the first time came to his mind. You were ambushed. A large group of criminals attacking, planning on hurting you. Logan wouldn't let that happen, not in a million years. In the middle of the fight, almost instinctively, let his claws out to overcome the criminals as quick as possible. When he realized what he has done, as soon as the threat was over, he turned to you, expecting to see you scared, angry, even disgusted by him. But you just stood there, shock on your face and reaching out to him, when he heard the stern voice of your mother from behind. "I knew there was something strange about you. To think that I let you close to my child. Get away you freak." She spat with venom and multiple guards followed her, stopping you from getting to him. He still saw you trying to fight your way to him, calling out his name desperately. The words of your mother, the one who hired him to protect you, faded into the background, his sole focus on you and you only but his feet were frozen in place no matter how much he wanted to get to you, he couldn't move.
"Watch out!" Rogue called out before a tree fell on the hood of the car. He was thrown by the force and landed in the snow. He felt the cuts and bruises that formed on his body from the impact. "Are you alright, kid?" He asked as he saw the girl squirming, still in her seat. "I'm stuck!" She screamed. A strange scent hit Logan's nose as he was approaching the vehicle. Suddenly, a man jumped out of the woods, throwing Logan on the hood of the van, which made him pass out.
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peachhcs · 2 days ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/767185748593164288/httpswwwtumblrcompeachhcs766739881092415488
i love this omg! i’m glad they are together maybe they need one more talking seriously to each other and samy is trying to tell him her fears and what she is scared of now it’s a much needed talk
i do love a side plot but this also does feel like it could easily be in the main plot to you know? whatever you want !
part 9!! sorry this took me longer to finish đŸ„Č let me know what else we want from this side plot!
au masterlist
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8
will found samy on the steps of back patio as the day drew into mid afternoon. they were watching a movie together and when the hockey player vaguely remembered dozing off from being somewhat jet lagged still. when he woke back up, samy wasn’t beside him like she was when he fell asleep and the tv that had the movie playing was running through a random tv show.
the girl’s back was to him, so she didn’t will at first and he didn’t didn’t say anything. he took those few seconds to admire her and the way her brown curls fell down her torso into frizzy little ends. to will, she looked so pretty like that. the sun was casting a perfect glow around her figure despite it being early october. god, he adored her so much.
will finally cleared his throat to grab her attention. she spun around, surprised, but happy to see him there.
“hi, didn’t know if you were gonna wake up,” the soccer player teased some as he joined her on the step and immediately reached her fingers up to brush his misplaced curls away.
“yeah, guess the jet lag got to me,” will admitted while returning her soft smile with one of his own.
“guess so. sleep well?” samy hummed, still toying with his hair.
“yeah, i slept fine. maybe i’ll get used to it by the time i leave again,” the couple shared a laugh. she eventually pulled her hand away warning a small grunt in response and will missing the way her fingers felt in his hair and on his skin.
“what are you doing out here?” he finally asked, his gaze following hers that diverted towards the hughes’ nearly five acre yard in front of them. in every space and corner, will could picture a memory that occurred there and the thoughts earned a bright smile on his features.
everything in michigan felt so nostalgic to him nowadays after finishing the ntdp. will spent primitive teenage years in this backyard and to think he was in the nhl now and they weren’t fifteen anymore.
“just thinking,” the brunette shrugged with her good shoulder.
“anything in particular?” will smiled, poking just a bit.
“not really, no.”
they exchanged a glance and maybe will was just in his head again, but he didn’t quite believe her. he knew when samy had something on her mind and didn’t say it and this was one of those times. she was being way to quiet for his liking because she’d always have 100 things to talk about no matter how stupid it was.
“you’re gonna say you don’t believe me, right?” samy beat him to it, a tiny smile on her lips because she also knew what her boyfriend was thinking. that was just how well they knew one another. will’s cheeks flushed a bit.
“uh, no. i wasn’t, but if there is something on your mind, you know you can talk to me right?” will offered because he wasn’t gonna over push it if samy really didn’t want to talk about anything.
“what if i said it’s about us?” her tone dropped and will could feel the seriousness washing over them.
he sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling the need to straighten himself up. “okay,” he waited for her to go on.
“i guess i’ve just been thinking more about..about why i didn’t call you..” the brunette began just as will shook his head.
“no, no you know you don’t have to keep apologizing about that. i get it. i do. i—“
“no, no, will, i should’ve called you. i don’t know why i didn’t. i..i guess i’ve just been..scared?” the girl’s voice became small and timid which wasn’t something will heard a lot from samy.
“scared? of what? me?” his heart twisted at that idea.
“no, no, god, no. i’d never be scared of you, don’t worry,” samy quickly clarified.
“then what is it? is it something i’m doing? not doing?” will was really determined to not fuck this all up again, so he’d literally do anything to make samy comfortable and meet her needs.
“no, it’s nothing you’re doing. i think it’s just my own insecurities,” she shook her head, but will wasn’t really following.
“what do you mean?”
“i think..i think i’m still a little bit affected from our breakup this summer. it might sound stupid but my insecurities have made me feel like i’m a burden to people and i’ll just be too much again. or not enough? i don’t really know,” samy dodged his glance by staring at the ground.
her words felt like an arrow straight into the hockey player’s heart that he didn’t even know how to respond. a pang of guilt washed over him and suddenly, he felt horrible that he fucked their entire relationship in the first place all because he thought he couldn’t do it.
a painful silence washed over them mixed with a bit of tension when will didn’t answer right away. samy bit at her lip, knowing she shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.
“shit, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said anything. it’s stupid—“
“wait, no, no it’s not stupid. it’s not. don’t invalidate your feelings,” will finally found his words.
“i-i’m really sorry i’ve made you feel this way. i was being dumb and..fuck. you’re not a burden, samy. god, you could never be too much or a burden to me. i’d literally drop everything for you i mean, i did drop everything for you,” the boy continued, trying his best to reassure samy of any doubt in her mind.
he searched for her gaze and when she finally looked at him, will saw all of it in that single gaze. the hurt, the pain, the mistrust and it broke his heart into a million pieces that she still felt all of this.
will reached out slowly, a hesitation and a silent request that he could touch her face. when she didn’t refuse, will’s hands cupped her cheeks, bringing her so close that their noses were inches apart.
“i love you, samy. nothing will ever change that for me, i promise. you mean so much to me. i’m really sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me you were hurt and i’m trying to do better. i wanna be better for you,” will admitted everything. he watched the girl’s gaze slowly soften out which he took as a good sign, especially when her forehead laid against his own.
“i love you, will. you mean a lot to me too. it’s just been a long journey to getting back together that i’m still working on. i’m really glad you’re here,” the two exchanged loving smiles and that’s when samy opened her mouth to kiss him. he took the hint fairly quickly, their lips connecting and closing the little space left.
“tell me what needs to happen to gain your full trust back and i’ll make it happen. i promise,” will said when they pulled apart.
samy smiled, “how about just spending all our time together until you have to leave again?”
“i like the sound of that,” will kissed the side of her head.
the couple stayed outside until it got too cold to be out there in just a sweatshirt. they cuddled back up on the couch together and for once, there was no anxiety about anything—just what they were eating for dinner and what movie they were gonna watch next.
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LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 5, Poll 4
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Please be civil in the notes. We will block people if we feel it is necessary. A character being canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. This is not a competition of who is better representation.
Check out the other polls in this round here.
Korra-Avatar: The Legend of Korra
Qualifications:
Korra is not only bisexual, having dated both Asami Sato and Mako, but was and still is disabled by the end of the series. She doesn't magically get better from being poisoned, she's forced to relearn a lot of things: how to walk, how to do things for herself, and even how to fight properly. Her physical disabilities are mixed with extensive trauma and PTSD that prevents her from doing her job as the Avatar throughout Book 4: Balance.
Canonically bisexual, has PTSD, and spent a while partially paralyzed and using a wheelchair.
Bisexual badass who ended up going through about 5038309340 traumatizing events, one of which involved mercury poisoning that had her unable to walk for about a year and left her with lasting PTSD and depression (though again the depression is a little less clear wheras the PTSD was obviously intended to be read as such). There was also her shadow self, but it's unclear whether that was a form of psychosis or a literal spirit. In short, she's bi and has PTSD if you want to stick with the more long term, obviously canon bits.
Propaganda:
She's the Avatar, you gotta deal with it! But, seriously, Avatar Korra was the first onscreen LBGT+ character in the Avatar franchise alongside her girlfriend Asami Sato. While limited in what could be shown onscreen, the two were explictly portrayed as a couple in the 2016 Dark Horse comic "Legend of Korra: Turf Wars". Likewise, her disability never quite went away. She still struggled with trauma, PTSD, and learning how to do things for herself again for two to three years in the time between books 3 and 4 that were shown off in flashbacks during her solo episodes.
She's canonically bi and has PTSD, and disability was an incredibly important theme for her in her show's final season.
i dunno I think i covered all my bases in the qualifying bit but also its 3am and i dont feel like typing more
Anything Else?:
The creators of Korra, Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, fought long and hard for their show, including taking a massive budget slash circa book 4 to avoid firing half their staff. Likewise, they took to Tumblr and other social media in 2014 to state firmly that Korra and Asami were both bisexual and in love. Here's a link: https://bryankonietzko.tumblr.com/post/105916338157/korrasami-is-canon-you-can-celebrate-it-embrace
The qualifications and propaganda paragraphs correspond, @foulfirerebel is the first submitter and also did the ‘anything else?’ section.
Neil Josten-All For The Game
Qualifications:
I mean he def has PTSD even though it's never like fully fleshed out in the series and also he is demisexual
Propaganda:
Neil goes through so much it's amazing he is still functioning as a person. He bottles up all of his trauma but he still has nightmares and triggers that bring back the trauma he felt from his abusive mafia father and his abusive mother. However, once he lands at PSU to play D1 Exy, he finds a home with all of his other broken teammates and coach. This includes Andrew Minyard, another possible contender for this bracket. While he still has trauma to deal with, he becomes a much more well adjusted and happy person with his teammates. :)
Andrew Minyard-All For The Game
Qualifications:
He’s gay and has some sort of trauma disorder probably.
Propaganda:
Very gay, pretty commonly thought of to have some sort of trauma disorder, he’s neat. I have many thoughts about him as a character but I don’t really feel like writing them.
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vickytaa · 2 days ago
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Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter V
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summery: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?
Last chapter!
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After walking for a few minutes, I arrived at the triplets' house. Standing in front of the door, hesitating whether to enter or not. It broke my heart to know that Matt was bad, he wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, he wasn't leaving the room, he wasn't living. But what happened that night hurt me too... I hesitated, maybe too much, but in the end I decided to knock on the door. A few seconds later, Nick opened the door and was a little excited to see that I had come. He smiled at me and hugged me gently. "Thanks for coming, he's... well, you know. If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me," Nick said, his face showed that he was a little better than before, a little relieved that I had come. I nodded and returned the smile, "Yes... I don't know if it's too much to ask, but can you go somewhere? It's just for a while, I really want to talk to him alone." I said without thinking twice. "Sure, I'll go get Chris and we'll go somewhere nearby," Nick said, and when he finished, he headed towards Chris's room.
I climbed the stairs and stood in the living room. What am I going to say to him? Will he want to talk to me? I didn't know what to talk about, how to start, how to act, nothing. A few minutes later, Nick and Chris entered the living room, both greeted me and smiled. "Thank you, really," Chris said, his eyes were red and he looked tired. It was clear that they had both been doing everything they could to keep Matt from being like this, to no avail. Together they hugged me and said goodbye.
When I heard the door close, all the pressure in my body suddenly rose. My head started to ache intensely, and my body stopped working altogether. Panic and nervousness took over me. And once again, I was there, standing still in front of Matt's room door. I took a deep breath, 'it's now, Y/n' I thought. I couldn't waste any more time. I knocked on the door.
Silence.
Is he asleep? Or maybe he's ignoring me... but did he know I was coming? New thoughts kept popping up. What do I do now? I knocked again, and then I thought about it. 'Fuck'. Surely, he wants to be alone and not be bothered. Or maybe he's dying for a hug.
Silence, again.
I think that's a sign to leave... I don't know if he really wants me here. I took a step back without thinking twice, it's time to go. But in my mind, the moments we spent together were repeated over and over again, the sincerity in his eyes whenever he told me he loved me, his desperate messages, his eyes, his face, the image of him begging me on his knees not to leave, his loud cry when I decided to go... I couldn't let him alone again. I couldn't lose someone else without fighting for that person. So I took courage and slowly opened his door, to find him asleep, his eyes red and swollen from the hours he spent crying, his messy room, a photo of our first date printed on his nightstand, his stuffed animal in his arms, it was all too much. I made a great effort to keep my tears from falling, finding him this way was drowning my heart.
Slowly and quietly, I entered the room and sat on the other side of the bed. Now his back was facing me. His room seemed... dead. Lights off, food and drinks on the floor, clothes thrown everywhere, everything messy, he looked the same, they both lacked love. I didn't know what else to do, but I was sure Matt needed company. So I started to lie down, getting closer and closer to him, and hugged him around the waist with one of my arms, my exhaled air going directly to the back of his neck. After a few seconds, I felt Matt grab my arm and realized it was me who was there. He turned to face me and couldn't hold back the tears.
All this time, being apart has been a complete hell for both of us.
Despite my best efforts, I couldn't hold mine back and they finally rolled down my face. With the little strength I had at that moment, I brought my hands to his face to hold it, and joined our lips in a soft kiss full of feelings that couldn't be described in words. Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me as close as possible, afraid that I would leave again. When we separated, neither of us said anything, I didn't know what to say, I just wanted to enjoy the moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, which he followed and hugged me tighter. Then, without letting go, Matt buried his face in my neck and I started to caress his hair.
"I really missed you," Matt said, breaking the silence. "Me too," I said, continuing to play with his hair. We returned to silence, and Matt relaxed a little. Suddenly, seeing the photo on his nightstand again, I remembered our first date; both of us looking into each other's eyes while my favorite song played in the background: "Sailor Song." Without thinking, I started to sing it, so softly, almost like a whisper. Bringing back memories of all the moments together, the good and the bad. I felt Matt's grip tighten a little. We both wanted all this to have been a bad dream, that in reality none of this had happened and we would continue our relationship happily. But like any relationship, there were problems, fights, happy and sad moments.
A few hours later, I felt Matt move a little. "What's wrong?" I said in a tired tone, but soft as always. "I want to be like this forever. And if I can be even closer, even better," Matt said, pulling away from my neck to meet my face and cross glances. A big smile full of love spread across his face. "I don't think you can get any closer than this," I said, laughing softly. He laughed with me, "How not?" he said, teasingly, and buried himself in my neck again, his grip on my waist tightened and pulled me impossibly closer. I just laughed and enjoyed the moment, I hadn't laughed in a long time.
Without realizing it, the door opened and Nick and Chris entered the room, both happy that their brother could finally laugh again. "I knew they were going to figure it out," Nick said. Matt moved away from me a little and turned to face his two brothers smiling. "Thank you," he said, a little embarrassed now that he realized his room was a mess, and he had acted like a zombie these days. Matt turned back to me and kissed me, this time harder than before, but with a meaning beyond love for me, if not as if to say thank you.
And in the end, maybe for my dad, music kept him alive, but for me, Matt kept me alive.
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A/n: I hope u liked this series! This chapter is way shorter than the lasts... I really appreciate all the support you give to this series.
Love yall:))
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dedeinthewild · 20 hours ago
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Omd please if you could do a story where arvids girl is teasing him abt being more boyfriendy with pepe bcos they're in the 'honeymoon" phase and she gets jealous
soo, I'm really sorry 'cause it isn't exactly what you requested but I had an idea with Pepe and I wrote it down. Let me know if you like it anyways, or I will make one just like you wanted it!
pepe martĂ­ x reader, established relationship
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~ "that's a terrible one"
Pepe was determined, kind, and so intelligent that he could make anyone smile just by meeting him.
But above all, he was dedicated.
He was deeply grateful for his journey in motorsport and always trusted the Red Bull driver academy and his team, despite the terrible luck that had made his season challenging.
With the two-month break from Formula 2, and his girlfriend busy with school, lessons, and studying, he had plenty of time to reconnect with the junior categories and work alongside the academy’s new entries.
Among them was the incredible Formula 3 rookie, Arvid Lindblad, who had left everyone in awe and was set to join Campos in the 2025 season.
In the preceding weeks, the Spaniard had traveled to Barcelona to watch the Eurocup3 and Spanish Formula 4 race weekends, reconnecting with his roots. Then, at the team’s request, he and Arvid attended the final MotoGP race, surprising everyone with their instant chemistry before even racing together.
On one side was the tall, polite, composed Spaniard who listened and responded with a smile. On the other was the whirlwind of words that was the British rookie, dressed in oversized trendy outfits, bringing a fresh vibe to Campos.
They had spent a lot of time together, laughing and creating content around the circuit, perfectly delivering what the team wanted while giving fans exactly what they loved.
A week later, Gaby and Christian had decided to organize a weekend in London with Pepe and his girlfriend.
“He’s got Arvid now; he won’t even look at me” his girlfriend joked to the British woman walking beside her, loud enough for Pepe to hear from ahead where he was walking with Christian.
“Sorry?” the Spaniard turned around, hands buried deep in the pockets of his blue jacket.
“I said you don’t even look at me anymore. You’ve got Arvid now.”
“He’s been cheating on me, and you didn’t care to tell me?” Christian chimed in, clutching his chest dramatically as they strolled through St. James’ Park.
Everyone burst out laughing while Pepe’s girlfriend tucked her hands into her scarf, hiding her nose and cheeks, which were slowly turning red from the cold.
“I’m sorry for cheating; Gaby will treat you right” Pepe teased Christian, pretending to steal his girlfriend while Christian clung to his own.
Pepe’s girlfriend, a petite five-foot-something figure walking beside him, smiled. Her hair was tucked into her scarf, and she breathed in the air of a London she loved.
“Are you cold?” Pepe asked, taking her hand and slipping it into the pocket of his Red Bull jacket, his thumb stroking her knuckles.
“I’m always cold, Pepe” she replied, knowing full well that her constant chilliness was something he always took care of.
Pepe and Christian had a strong bond, and seeing them together was a joy. So, when the F3 driver invited them for the weekend, they had packed their bags immediately. Spending time with Christian and Gaby also brought the two women closer, as they, like their boyfriends, perfectly complemented each other, creating a fun and close-knit group.
They loved teasing and joking with each other, and this was the perfect moment to poke fun at Pepe. His girlfriend seized the opportunity without hesitation.
“And what do you mean about Arvid?” Pepe asked, glancing down at her as they walked along the little path that ducks shared with their ducklings.
“He’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past month. Don’t even get me started on those videos.”
Pepe chuckled, raising his eyebrows as if to ask if she was serious. She, however, maintained an honest expression.
“Are you saying that for real?”
“I mean, you’re really boyfriendy with him.”
“And I guess you’re implying that I’m not with you.”
Her head tilted back slightly, the wind brushing her cheeks as she gave him a playful smile. She was joking, and both of them knew it, but they were curious to see how far it would go.
“I mean, you spend a lot of time with him and look at him as if he were the love of your life.”
“And what should I say about you and Gaby?” he retorted, grinning. “You’re always going on your dates; I think she’s a pinned chat on your phone, and—”
She couldn’t help but laugh as Christian and Gaby lined up at a cafĂ© while she and Pepe stopped, standing face-to-face.
This spot was one of her favorites in London, where she loved walking with a hot chocolate in hand, headphones in, and music blasting.
“I should remind you that it’s only because you’re in your honeymoon phase with Arvid. You’ll see the bad sides later.”
Pepe took her other hand, slipping it into his jacket pocket to warm it with his, moving closer with that sweet look he always wore.
“I have to say, it’s a great honeymoon nonetheless.”
She bit her cheek to keep a straight face, though her playful expression was giving her away.
“And what do you mean by bad sides?” he asked, curious. “Are there bad sides to being with me?”
“Many, many for sure.”
Pepe leaned down slightly, wrapping her completely in his arms and burying her face in his blue Red Bull jacket.
“List them, then,” he teased.
“You’re too nice, and everyone loves you.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders, hugging him back, as Christian and Gaby returned with steaming cups of tea.
“That’s a terrible one" joked the Campos driver, kissing her forehead before handing her the cup Christian had given him.
As they strolled down The Mall, the four chatted, surrounded by a slightly windy but not too damp London, kissed by timid sunshine.
The scent of falling leaves mixed with the sweetness of candied almonds from nearby stands, while some passersby asked for directions, and others watched them laugh and enjoy their time together.
“Pepe and I decided something” his girlfriend suddenly announced, grabbing the attention of Christian and Gaby while Pepe played along.
“We’re splitting up but staying good friends,” she said seriously.
At that moment, the world seemed to crumble for the Australian and the Brit, whose jaws dropped as they stared at Pepe to figure out if it was a joke or the truth.
“We realized we have some differences that the other doesn’t enjoy, unlike with other people, so it’s better this way.”
“What do you mean?” Christian asked, his eyes wide in shock.
“We’ve had some flings” she replied casually.
Gaby, convinced that if those two broke up, she’d never believe in love again, couldn’t process it. Pepe and his girlfriend were the perfect match—two people who effortlessly connected in ways she’d never seen before.
“No, you haven’t” Gaby declared, shaking her head.
Pepe and his girlfriend smiled, struggling to keep the joke going, even though their friends’ sad, confused faces made them feel a bit guilty.
“With who?” Christian asked, earning a gentle smack on the hand from Gaby, who thought it wasn’t the time for such questions.
“Your girlfriend” they replied in unison.
The Australian furrowed his brow, confused.
“Both of you? Pepe?” He was at a loss for words.
“No, stop this nonsense; it’s not funny” he said, visibly upset.
At that moment, Pepe and his girlfriend burst into laughter, exchanging looks as if they had just pulled off the joke of the decade while walking ahead of the group.
“You assholes!” Christian exclaimed, exasperated.
“You actually believed it?” Gaby asked, holding onto Christian’s arm, relieved to see them laugh it off.
“As if you didn’t” Pepe retorted.
That evening, after a lovely dinner at a restaurant near Chinatown, they all headed back to their hotel, trying to teach Pepe how to navigate the Tube using a rule his girlfriend had devised.
“If you miss a train or anything, just get off at the first stop and wait there. We’ll come find you.”
“I’m not a child,” the Spaniard protested, sitting on one of the Piccadilly Line trains with his arms crossed, playfully nudging his girlfriend’s feet as she studied the map.
“I’m quite positive you are” she replied with a smile, focused on the intricate map, unaware that Pepe had taken out his phone and snapped a picture of her.
Later, once they were in their room, changed into their pajamas, and cuddled in bed watching a movie, Pepe sent her the photo.
As she opened the message, he began to speak.
“Honeymoon or not, you’re the only thing about me without bad sides” he said.
She smiled, her eyes soft and warm.
“And I love you like I love yapping about nerdy facts.”
“I think that’s the most thoughtful way you’ve told me you love me.”
Pepe leaned his head back against his hands.
“Still, maybe you’re right. I’m rather boyfriendy with Arvid.”
“Be careful, I’m a little jealous of you,” she said, giving him a quick kiss where his ear met his jawline.
“You said it—everyone loves me,” he joked, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer, breathing in her scent and feeling as though, even fifty years from now, they would still be just like this.
Because, as Gaby thought, if those two ever broke up, no one would believe in love anymore.
Beyond all the jokes and teasing, Pepe and that girl had found each other through some stroke of fate, and they were never meant to let each other go.
~ not proofread or anything so there might be a few errors, I hope you all like it 🍀
(please find me a pepe, thanks)
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your-local-glowstick · 1 day ago
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✹INTRODUCTION POST✹
Hi, I'm Will Solace, Son Of Apollo, Head Counsellor of The Apollo Cabin, and Head Medic!
Here are my friends/boyfriend!
Leo Valdez- @r3pairb0y - he's pretty cool, I don't know him that well, but he's in the infirmary a lot (I'm side eyeing you Valdez). He's one of the main Seven from the Prophecy, and he helped take down Gaia in an explosion! We all thought he was dead for a while, which wasn't very nice, Valdez! Son of Hephaestus!
Nico di Angelo- currently working on their blog- I love him! he's my boyfriend, my everything. He travelled through Tartarus and was captured by the twin giants, but luckily the Seven managed to rescue him before anything seriously bad could happen. He still has PTSD and a little bit of internalised homophobia, but we're working on it with Mr. D. He travelled with Reyna halfway across the world the deliver the Athena Parthenos, which ended up saving the day. he has some eating problems, but as said, we're working on it. He is prince of the Underworld and the Ghost King! Son of Hades!
Hazel Levesque-no roleplayer yet- She's so sweet. She's Nico's sister, and is possibly one of the nicest people I've ever met. That being said, do not underestimate her. she is feisty. Mess with anyone she loves, you have it coming for you. She is the daughter of Pluto, and is currently dating Frank Zhang, son of Mars. She is very powerful, despite what others might say. One of the Seven, I love her <3
Frank Zhang-no roleplayer yet- He's very nice. I'm not all that close to him, but he does hand out with Hazel a lot and seems very chill. Son of Mars, Praetor of The Twelfth Legion, Member Of The Seven. He is currently dating Hazel, they're very sweet together. He's like a giant teddy bear, the softie!
Annabeth Chase-no roleplayer yet- She's scary. I'm joking haha, she's one of the nicest people you'll meet. Just don't get on her bad side! Member of The Seven, Daughter of Athena, and Architecture of Olympus! During the first war, Annie took a knife for her soon-to-be-boyfriend Percy Jackson, and I helped heal her. She is one of the toughest people I know, she made it through Tartarus!
Percy Jackson-no roleplayer yet- Son of Poseidon, Hero Of Olympus, Member of the Seven, Tartarus survivor, he's got it all! Percy is the chillest person ever, but man is he a DEMON on the battle field. After all he's been through, he just wants to be a normal teenager. I get it. I mean, he fell into hell for his girlfriend. dam dude. I don't see much of him and Annabeth since they're currently at New Rome University!
Piper McClean-no roleplayer yet- I love her personality, I love her style, I love everything about her. Daughter of Aphrodite and Member of the Seven! She is a beast with charm speak. She has some kind of unbreakable bond with Leo, and I'm not even sure if they know what their relationship is at this point. She was dating Jason Grace, but they broke up on good terms. She is currently dating a girl names Shel! I don't know much about her, but she seems so nice.
Jason Grace- @lightning-boi-superman -Son of Jupiter, Member of the Seven! I honestly haven't spent that much time with him, but I know Nico loves him like a brother. He and Leo seem... very close (in love) but we don't talk about it :3
Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano-no roleplayer yet- I don't know her very well, but from what I've heard she's awesome! She was there for Nico through some of his darkest moments, and I love her for that.
That's all for now folks!
(OOC: I will add people as they come and their blogs, if any of you want to join, just dm me or @r3pairb0y )
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