#which was the first such shout of many tbh

[glompcat]

The first two eps of Yellowjackets Season 3 were 10000% worth staying up this late for.

[bucketspammer4life]

looking through my old messages is so traumatizing i want to go back in time and kick myself in the stomach like what possessed you...

[giantkillerjack]

It is very true that this "kid-glove explaining" IS sometimes the only way to get any assistance at all, and that this is absolutely not the fault of the disabled people who have been put in so horrible a position by their ableist loved ones. You have to do what you must to survive.

But i just want to emphasize how it is also true that the labor of these kinds of repeated forced-calm explanations can be extremely harmful for the disabled person long-term.

I say this because I THOUGHT I had made progress with teaching my family, but in fact I had only gained a LOT of additional trauma and grief during a time when I desperately needed non-ableist support.

I was sick and in crisis for years, and during that time, I repeatedly spent the energy i could have used to ask friends for help on instead begging my family to learn how to stop hLeping me and start Helping me.

This genuinely endangered my life on multiple occasions. Imagine the difference between getting immediate help bailing water out of your sinking ship (ex. my friend Laura metaphorically jumping into my boat with buckets and pumps and no judgment), and having to instead stand in your increasingly-sinking ship explaining (so SO gently or else they will dismiss you entirely, even though the water is creeping up to your neck) to someone that "actually no, adding water to my boat doesn't help please PLEASE just bail it out; I cannot emphasize enough that I can't swim why do I have to keep saying that? no I don't think I could have avoided that hurricane and it hurts that you keep asking; no I am not faking it - why would I fake this?? What kind of person do you think I am??" - as they allow the water to creep up to your chin. That's the difference between help and hLep.

Also, a helper wants you to have all the help you could possibly need, and they recognize that they almost certainly can't provide you with everything you need on their own. (Ex. My partner can't help me with panic attacks most of the time due to her own mental illness. But she helps with all sorts of other stuff, communicates her limits, and actively encourages me to rely on my friends for support.)

Meanwhile, a hLeper might be offended that you would even want ANYONE'S assistance besides their own because it isn't about *your need,* it is about *their pride.*

If the people around me *get angry at me for being angry* when THEY are the ones who hurt ME, then I no longer want them around me. And I hope to have the skill and the privilege to be able to stay in control of that. I hope someday we all can have that.

And to every disabled person stuck waiting for better days: Please survive in the meantime because your survival is the key to a better future for us. It will be better with you there. I don't care if you disagree with me; you won't persuade me otherwise - I am a stubborn Jack. I want you there. Disabled survival is an act of radical resistance. You, along with the other contributiors to this post, are Punk As Fuck.

I go into these concepts some more in this version of the post.

[Also, if you have any trouble reading the opening paragraphs of this post, I edited the original post into a more dyslexic-friendly version, and I've tried to include that link in every version of the post that I refer to.]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hlep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you ask for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hlep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hlep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it helps reinforce the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hleper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

[toothfa-1-ry]

YOU STILL LIKE IT THOUGH

GENRE: Fluff, crack fic ish?

PAIRING: Choi su-bong/thanos x preg!fem!reader

FEAT: Nam gyu as the supportive bestie (that he never rlly was)

A/N: this fic i based of a request from anon !! Tbh i changed ALOT of the request (haha- sorry 😞) because I felt like it was a little repetitive and idk i just can't write rlly emotional scenes with Thanos for some reason (??) ALSO I feel like there are parts where Thanos seems ooc? Idk.. i wrote this instead of studying in the span of 30 mins

"Whoo!" You hear Thanos shout on the top of his voice while he high fives nam gyu as they both jump up and down as if they were children in elementary school after winning a play ground game

You manage your groan, suppressing it while you stare at them from afar, of course that crazy fucker managed to pass through the first game.

You hated to admit it, but a part of you was relieved,

You always had a thing for psycho guys, and your ex boyfriend? The one with the brightly dyed hair who was now doing some weird dance seemed to proudly embody every part of that sentiment.

You carefully watch from afar, not wanting to catch his eyes, your hand unknowingly lay over your stomach while you move uncomfortably in the bunk bed

Fuck, your feeling dizzy all over again

You hear a thud against your bed post, you look up slowly, your eyes slightly squinting to see the purple haired boy with a usual frown on his face

"Hey" his eyebrows raise "are you okay"

"I thought I told you to get lost earlier"

Your mood swings weren't really helping either

"Geez woman" thanos tchs but sits beside you in your bed anyways "im just trying to help" grumbling under his breath but the cautious expression in his face saied otherwise

"I came here to brag about how amazing i usually am but seeing you like this is just killing the vibe yknow"

he makes a hand gesture in the air, leaning face closer in an attempt to make you smile which does not go wasted as the smile you tried to supress escaped your face

"Fuck off you loser" your still kneeling, your hands over your knees and your face hiding behind your knees but he hears the smile in your voice anyways.

He wouldn't want to admit it, but he was relieved

He always had a thing for girls with pretty voices and you? The girl right next to him had to have one of the prettiest voices he had ever heard. Ofcourse who would better know than a rapper like himself?

"I thought I told you to stick close to me, instead you leech to that crazy old man" thanos says as he points towards gi hun who sat far away in the opposite side

You immediately slap his hand, causing him to wince while retracing it back, rubbing it softly

"How many times will I tell you! You shouldn't point your hands at strangers especially to people who are older" you scold him rather loudly causing him to wince even more

"Agh" thanos ruffles his neon hair while complaining "why don't you shout louder so that everyone will hear and laugh at me?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes upon his childish manners, he really didn't change

Thanos suddenly bangs the top of the bunk with a loud sound, taking you by shock

"Oi" his voice loud and almost threatening "nam gyu" calling out the man above the bed

Immediately your taken by shock once more when a man's head pops upside down, with black oily hair falling all over his face from above the bed

"Yes Thanos?" Nam gyu quickly inquired while sparing you a quick glance which didn't go unnoticed by the scowling man next to you

"Did you hear her telling me off?" He points at nam gyu before quickly adding "careful, there's only one correct answer"

Nam gyu pauses and thinks which seems to be the wrong thing to do as it just annoys Thanos

"Whats wrong with you, tell me quickly!"

"N-no! Not at all! Infact nobody heard anything!" Nam gyu quickly says, obviously lying but this seemed to please Thanos who now held a haughty face

Wow, this is was supposedly the father of your unborn child. Shame you and your taste in weird guys

Before Thanos could open his mouth to say something, a group of pink guards enter the room with large containers

Straight away you freeze up, shrinking behind the bed while your heart hammered, fear spread across your face

Noticing your expression on your face, instinctively Thanos covers you with his back, shielding you with his arms which covered your sides while his expression, though you could not see was filled with wariness

The pink guards open the large containers they were carrying as everyone watched quietly, scared as they were unsure of what to expect, you included

The pink guard with the white circle lifts up a piece of bread and milk "lunch time" announcing in the same robotic voice like all the other guards

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth as your shoulders relax, unlike you Thanos still shields you, covering your face with his back

You hit him with a thud on the back of his head

"What the hell man" thanos turns around, his eyes glaring at you

"Stop trying to act like a hero you shameless prick" you frown even though his actions did leave you with a warm feeling in your heart

"Your acting so protective after all the stunt you pulled before we broke up" you continue "seeing you act all so protective is just pissing me off even more"

Thanos throws his head back, groaning "give me a break woman. You know I was going through a hard time"

"Bullshit" your fold your arms, as if it was act to protect yourself, and the unborn baby in your stomach.

The poor thing was only 2 months old

The both of you hear nam gyu cough from above the bed, forgetting that he was there in the first place

Again Thanos bangs the top of the bunk, causing you to give him a look

"Stop doing that" you scold him

"doing what?" Thanos raises his eyebrow before banging the top of the bunk again while sticking his tongue at you

Nam gyu pops back down again, upside down, the sight would have been hilarious only if you weren't experiencing the pain in your stomach and the sight of the man sitting beside you

"Go get lunch for me and my girl" thanos tilts his head towards you while avoiding your eyecontact while you tell yourself not to think about the fact that he still referred to you as 'his girl'

"go fast what are you still doing here" thanks reprimanded nam gyu

Nam gyu awkwardly stood unsure of what to say "but it's just one bread and one milk per person"

"Then give her yours" thanos said simply "and go steal someone's lunch for me"

"Then what about for me?" Nam gyu asked dumbfounded which caused Thanos to pause and think for a while

"That's not my fucking problem man- now go" he pushes him away, leaving you with a heavy sigh

"I don't want to eat"

"Don't talk bullshit" thanos eyes you "you think i'm gonna let you starve? I never did, and i wont be starting now"

Again with the whole protective boyfriend act, fuck, why did it make your heart race a little?

"Your still such an asshole, you didnt change a bit" you huffed as you leaned behind, resting your back against the wall

"Well you changed" thanos says which quirks your curiosity

"How so?'

"I don't know" he shrugs "something is different. Something happened, i can't exactly ppint my fi ger at it though"

Your eyes dart away from his while your breathing started to fasten slightly

"Oh yea? How so?" You ask, your voice slightly higher than it was which Thanos picks up immediately

"Ohoho" he grins "did I get it right? Did you get something done?" He glances you up and down which leads you to hitting him

"Ow- i was just joking, you still take everything so seriously" he grumbled holding your hand from hitting him "I wish that part had changed'

Your other hand comes swinging which he again grabs softly

"jokingg" he says in a sing song voice before letting both your arms go leaving you with a scowl and him with a satisfied smirk in his face

"Asshole" you mutter which stretches his smirk even more

"You still like it though"

You almost swear you heard a hint of vulnerability in his tone, prompting you to glance at him quickly just to catch him already looking at you

"So? Aren't you gonna ask me what has changed?" You ask slowly, in your head trying to process whether your doing the right thing or not,

You first found out you were pregnant with your baby right after you and Thanos broke up.

The following days, whenever you went to pay him a visit, he was always missing, causing you to believe maybe it was better for him not to know. And then you suddenly meet him for the first time after your breakup during the squid games

The timing was almost comical

"Why?" Thanos continued still with an amused face "you still seem the same on the inside"

Your hand immediately goes to your stomach, slowly tracing along it from above the green track jacket which everyone wore

"Don't tell me your sick or something" thanos asks with his voice slightly raised as he notices your action "fuck are you?"

His eyes slightly widens as he frowns "hey" he snaps his finger upon your zoning out "are you sick?"

"Hm?" You ask confused

"What the fuck" he swears under his breath with a anxious expression on his face while his hand runs through his finger "is that why your here? To win some money for your treatment?"

"Su Bong its not like that-" All your attempts of correcting him seemed to be futile as he sweared loudly, getting out of the bed

"Shit shit shit!" He grabs his head while he paced around the floor, a sight you had seen a few times over the span of your relationship

"ofcourse that's why your here, you would only be here for a sensible reason"

"Oh, su bong" you attempt to appeal to him, reaching your hand out, pulling his closer towards you while he hands were still over his head, eyes lowered

"Fuck baby I'm so sorry" he breathed out "shit i never should have left, i thought" he paused "I thought I'd win some money and get you back, give you the life you really deserve but"

You watch his dazed expression while he rambled, you bit you underlip, hesitant of whether to tell him the truth still

"Fuck, i didn't even know that, i didn't even know you were sick-"

Before he could continue again you grab his face , forcing him to look at your face

"I'm not sick, that's not why im here"

Thanos breathed heavily, everything felt so real suddenly, he felt his cross necklace strapped around his neck, his fingers itching to pop a pill in his mouth to sooth his nerves

"I'm not sick" you shake your head as you lean your forehead against his "su-bong"

You can still feel his strained breaths and darting eyes

"I'm pregnant"

And it all stopped,

You held your breath, afraid of what would happen if you let go, your could heart your heartbeat from your ears, feel the realisation setting inside thanos,

You were scared. Scared of how he would react

He breaks away first, slowly and gently. Staring at you with no expression in his face,

"And it's yours" you rapidly feel the need to add, taken back by his silence which didn't not suit him "and i know having a kid was never in your plan, and i know things are over between us but-"

Your body is wrapped by his arms and his face nestles in your neck, pulling your deeper in his embrace

"Holy shit" thanos whispers in your ear, you can hear the giddiness radiating off his voice "im a dad"

"Yea you are" you laugh a little as you say "your a dad"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I never got the chance to"

Thanos furrows his eyebrows but doesn't press any more "will you let me be our baby's dad?" He ask

"You know I grew up without a dad, this kid doesn't deserve that" he pokes your stomach with a soft grin which looked slightly odd against his eccentric features "I wanna be in this kids life"

You nodd softly, hearing his words

"And yours too" thanos looks up to you, grinning while he winked at you "senorita"

"You corny bastard" you laugh shaking your head

"You still like it though"

You nodd your head, with tenderness in your eyes and voice

"I do"

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ extra scene pack !!

"Thanos!" Nam gyu came running with 3 pieces of sweet bread and 3 packets of milk "I got it! Do you know how much trouble i went to get all these-"

"Give it here " thanos grabbed all the bread and milk away "why did you take so long anyways"

Nam gyu held his hands as he pouted "I mean- i had to fight like 2 guys for bread and milk for us-"

Thanos brushed him off as he opened all the packets of bread and poked in the straw of all the milk packets

"Uhm thanos" nam gyu apprehensively called out "What are you doing?"

Thanos hands you all the bread and urges you to eat while he holds the packets of milk in his hand, ready to feed you

Thanos gestures towards you who was sitting in the bed, now wrapped in not only your jacket but his aswell "can't you see the lady is pregnant"

Nam gyu scratched his head "pregnant? With who?"

Thanos shakes his head, exaggerating his actions "dumb ass, she's pregnant with my baby ofcourse" he announced like it was the most obvious thing in the world

"Holy shit!" Nam gyu gaped his hand covering his mouth as he stares at you while you sheepishly smile at him

Thanos let out a small laugh which then slowly grew louder

"What? Why are you surprised? Ofcourse i succeeded in my first try- fuck" he kneels down in pain after being striked by you in the stomach

Nam gyu pulls a face in behalf of Thanos as he pats his back sympathetically while he whispers to you

"Don't worry. I know it probably wasnt his first try or anything- ow" nam gyu kneels on the ground after being hit in the stomach by thanos

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

"What... what are you guys doing?" You question as you approach Thanos and nam gyu who were huddled up in a corner, in a long rather quiet conversation which seemed like an unusual activity for both of them to part take in

Both in the 'discussion' and 'quiet' part

Thanos loops his arm around your with a proud smirk on his face while urging nam gyu to announce what they were discussing

Nam gyu nodds eagerly as gets up in his two feet quickly, standing straight and tall with a loud and confident voice "we have decided the perfect name for the baby !!"

You see thanos's broad smile and nam gyu's confident voice, uneasiness settling in your stomach for whatever name they picked out

"These is the name that Thanos and i have personally given a lot of thought for and chosen after much contemplation !!"

Thanos nodded his head with a content expression while he winked at you, assuring that you'll like it

"Ahem" nam gyu clears his throat "before I announce the name that we have chosen, i would like to give recognition to the name we almost chose aswell !!"

Thanos immediately began clapping his hand loudly "waaah, I never knew you could speak so well "

This comment made nam gyu's chest fill swell with pride as he puffs out his chest a little

"I shall now, announce the first runners up, the name that almost was given to the new born baby"

nam gyu pauses which prompts Thanos to make the sound of drum rolls

"Nebula" nam gyu announces as he and thanos clap loudly.

Seeing your still figure both men urge you to claps aswell

"Nebula?" You mutter under your breath "where have i heard that name before?"

"And now, the name that has been selected over numerous selection test and discussion, the name of the baby is" nam gyu points at your stomach

"Gamora"

Thanos whoops loudly, both nam gyu and him clapping their hands in the air while you stand off handedly as it hits you

"Your naming our child after the daughter of the purple alien monster from a superhero movie?!"

[dilf-docs]

Can We Hit It Now, Low-Down And Gritty?

dieter bravo x younger!reader

summary: the last thing you need is world-renowed asshole slash actor dieter bravo to yell at you for doing your job. he'll pay for that.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., pwp, size kink, brat taming, degradation kink, fingering, oral (f. receiving), pussy spanking (again?! dilf-docs u horndog WE GET IT), creampie, tbh this is just pure filth pls forgive me Lord I have sinned, dieter bravo (yes that's a warning), nicknames (doll), reader is a glorified porn writer, she can also speak spanish but no physical description/nationality is mentioned

word count: 6,324 words

side note: hello someone please take away ai bots from me thank you. won't add anything else, just enjoy this horny mess sponsored by our fluffy disaster king (did enjoy writing their banter though). i need to be on horny jail bc i'm on those days and wrote this in about 24 hours talk about desperate like i'm going to hell wow if you know me irl no you don't

The set was quiet, well, as quiet as it could be: quick footsteps, flickers of lights, turning of pages, sips of freshly bought coffee and instructions yelled to the air.

That is something you can control. Like, even. But this job isn't easy, given not only what but also who you need to handle.

And speaking about the devil, here comes the who: world-renowned asshole and actor, Dieter Bravo, storming into the place with a strenuous walk.

Just what you need: he's coming in your direction with what you recognize is the movie's script in his hands.

"Who wrote this?!" he angrily shouts, glaring at the people on the set.

"I did" you stand still, defiant even. "Is that a problem?"

Dieter scoffs when he hears your response.

"Is that a problem?" he mocks. "Look at this!"

He holds up the script but you don't even bother to look at it: you've read it so many times, you could recite it from memory.

"This crap isn't going to sell" Dieter argues. "People aren't going to be interested in this story"

There's an irritated expression on his face as he looks down on you. Does Dieter think you care? Of course you knew it was bullshit as soon as you finished the first page, but you had to pay bills, and working this shitty jobs would get you closer to the contacts you needed―the only reason you're doing this in the first place.

"Tell me" he stands before you, and he's so close, you can hear his uneven breathing. "Did you really write this garbage?"

What's the point in lying? The only reason why you did is because you wanted to make him mad. Is it childish? Yes. But you have your reasons, the biggest one being that in no way would you allow a celebrity to talk down on you like that. It's one of the worst parts of your job, and not even Dieter and his handsome face would let you take his shit.

"No, I didn't. But I approved it" you cross your arms, revealing the truth. "You know, you're being very dissmisive of people's hard work because you can't stand not being so called perfect. It's called humilty, you could try"

(You don't really care about this people's hard work that much. They did a bad job, but in the end, a job. He should respect them for that, not the result. A bad one, objectively speaking)

Dieter scoffs at your response, obviously not liking the snarky tone.

"Oh, you approved it?" his tone comes out annoyed. "Which means you know it's crap, right?"

You shrug your shoulders, making him visibly frustrated with the conversation.

"This has nothing to do with me wanting to be the spotlight, you idiot" Dieter raises his voice, "did you even stop to think about the viewers?"

Okay, so now you're the villain. Frankly, it's been a bad week, and the last thing you want is this guy thinking he can get away with harrassing and talking down a less payed crew member just because he's rich, famous and hot. Whatever. If he wanted to play with fire, you'll happily be the match.

"Listen, I approved it because I want to go home and be at peace. Don't give me crap about the viewers. Of course I know this is shit! But I don't get paid enough to care. Besides, even if I wanted, I couldn't change it. You're angry at the wrong person; I'm just following orders"

Dieter clenches his fist, clearly struggling to keep his calm.

"So you just do whatever the hell the director says?" he spits in a irritated tone.

"That's about my job"

"You do know that could mean this movie flops, right? Is that how little you care about what you do?"

Dieter stands before you, crossing his arms, the veins on them popping with annoyance.

"You don't know shit about me" you reply while trying not to look at his flexing biceps too much, hoping he doesn't notice. "And I'm sorry to break it to you, but not all of us are big names that can do whatever they please or hold that much power. If it was up to me, I wouldn't hire this stupid director, writer or you, who, by the way, are way past your prime"

It's an unnecesary offense you truly didn't mean, but you hate the way he talks to you as if you were stupid. And maybe the blow felt bigger because you are a fan. Geez. You thought working with him would be a dream, despite his reputation, yet now all the claims are becoming true in the worst way possible. The last thing you need is Dieter finding out you're a fan, and even if it's a coward way out, you'll defend what's left of your dignity however it takes.

Dieter's brown eyes widen in disbelief at your petty comment. Then, they spark with rage, as he looks quite furious.

"Excuse me?! You don't get to talk about me like that" Dieter moves his ringed hands erratically in the air, as to make his point any more clear. "Do you know how hard I've worked for my career? I won't have anyone, less a little brat, tell me I'm past my prime"

You admire his career, that's the worst of it all. But the annoyance has settled deeply in between you both, and you find yourself at loss for words or energy to keep bickering. Besides, behind you, you can hear the order to continue filming in a few.

"Yeah, you don't get to talk to me like that either. I guess we're even" you sigh, tiredly. "Anything else I can help with, Mr. Bravo?"

If you could, you would cover your mouth in horror. You didn't mean to call his name like that, as if you're allured by him. Fuck Dieter. You hope he doesn't read too much into the tone.

But of course his drug-fried brain would notice that, the actor staring at you with a puzzled look when you call his name.

"Oh, now you're calling me Mr. Bravo, eh? Trying to flirt your way out of this? I'm not a dumbass, you know"

The fact that he associates the calling with flirting rather than nerves makes your eyes twitch. He keeps staring at you, heat making it's way to your face. It's like he's trying to find out if what you said was indeed flirting, and given by the smirk he's giving you, it seems Dieter's got the wrong veredict.

"I'm not stupid either, but here you're talking to me like I am"

Great. That came out even more childish than you intended.

You think the color painting your cheeks is noticeable now, as Dieter lets out a small chuckle. He then cuts the distance even more, the irritating smirk still on his face.

"Well, then don't try and play me like I'm an idiot." Dieter pauses for a moment, then continues in a teasing tone when he sees your flushed face. "Oh, you're so red... It's cute"

"Cute?" the sound you let out is a mix of a chuckle and scoff. "Did you just call me cute? Are you too trying to flirt your way out with of this?" you repeat his same words from earlier. He chuckles amused at your behavior, his smirk turning into a cocky smile as he stares down at you.

"Me? flirt my way out? I would never." he then continues to speak in an amused tone. "I call people I find cute, cute...and you are definitely cute"

"Oh, I'm not the only one then, huh? And here I thought I was special" you feign hurt, and even if you're not an actor, you hope it sells. "And here I thought we were playing the same game. Well, I suppose we're done, and you can go back to filming or complaining, whatever suits you. Oh, the director is here: now bother someone else"

"Special? Nah, can't say you are." he says playfully at your attempt to brush him off. Then Dieter glances over in the director's direction but his gaze returns to you. "Oh, I'll deal with him later, you worry about yourself, sweet cheeks"

You know it's part of the banter, but it's no news to anyone who truly knows you the insecurity you've felt after so many projects rejected, ideas scrapped and terrible dating life. The you're not special hangs in the air, suffocating you; it feels like a slap to the face. Not to be a downer or such a mood changer, but it's hard to pretend. Yeah, you couldn't be an actor even if you tried to.

"Yeah I know" you answer, this time not pretending. Your voice may have given you away, so you turn around, hoping he doesn't get to see your face fall. "You're right, I'll take care of myself or whatever you said before. Bye, Mr. Bravo" you rush the words out, embarrased at yourself and how easily he's got you wrapped around his finger.

Really? And I called him again like that? So stupid.

But he notices that your face has changed a bit, picking up the slight change. Dieter feels a slight pang of guilt for what he said, his smirk disappearing from his face. He lets out a sigh when you bid goodbye; he was having fun.

"Hey, wait a minute"

The actor reaches out and gently grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving.

"What do you want?" you dryly ask, trying to keep a stoic façade, hoping Dieter doesn't catch the racing heartbeat by touching your wrist. "Go bother someone else"

"What I want..." he pauses for a brief moment, "...is for you to not walk away"

Dieter's grasp on your wrist loosens a bit, but he still keeps a hold on you. "I made a mistake. I was being an ass"

Was he, apologizing? For a moment, it seemed like Dieter was going to admit to what he did, which was unlike him, but his voice sounded genuine.

"D-Dieter!" you squeak his name in surprise, then blushing at the embarrassing sound. "You can't be serious, I mean- I'm the one that's sorry, I was an ass first. I think I deserve that"

It doesn't make sense and yes, you deserve his apology, yet at this point you're braindead and this is nothing but just nervous rambling at his actioms, so out of character from what you've heard and know.

A small chuckle escapes from the actor's mouth when he hears you squeak his name.

"I am serious. I mean it. You did not deserve it" his light grasp on your wrist stays as he slowly runs his thumb over your skin. Dieter stands even closer, making your breath hitch.

"W-what are you doing? You realize we're on set, right?" I laugh nervously, yanking my arm, even if you want him to still hold you.

The actor slowly loosens his grasp on you and lets go of your wrist, but the relief is short-lived as he moves his hand to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"Of course I know we're on set. Why? You think I'm doing something you don't like?"

Mischief glistens in his eyes, and you gulp nervously at the turn of events.

"I don't like it because it's not what I've heard from you" you confess before even stopping to think a proper answer. "You know, they warned us... to not get involved with the cast, and you? This isn't who I thought... heard- I think I'm going insane" you get very nervous, well aware you're doing a very poor job at hiding it. "Y-you have an exhibition kink or something?"

Ah, why. Yes, of course your mouth and brain had teamed up against you, the duo an expert on ruining your life.

See, it was a joke, but it comes out horribly wrong, making you cover your mouth. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean-"

Dieter lets out a soft chuckle when you cover your mouth in embarrassment, clearly enjoying this.

"An exhibition kink? That's interesting. I've never been asked that before..."

His hand gently grabs your wrist, slowly moving it away from your mouth.

"Oh, don't cover your mouth. I like the things you say, although some are dumb"

"Wow, you're still hellbent on calling me dumb. I thought we were friends" you breath relieved at the way he took your stupid move, playfully nudging his side, feeling plush skin under his clothes. Fuck. You better leave before you dig this hole deeper. "So, do you or not? Answer the question. The joke may have backfired but my curiosity is still there"

"Dumb, stupid, idiot... you choose. I'm still going to call you that, doll. Can't let you off that easily" Dieter chuckles before answering your question, because of your boldness and the reappearing dark shade over your face. "Alright, I'll answer your question. Are you sure you want to know, though? You have a wild imagination"

"How do you know?" you fake gasp. "Have you read my works?"

It came out in the moment, not something you're used to saying out loud, especially when you're simply an assistant, because honestly, it's embarrassing.

Dieter gives you a small smirk when you fake gasp at his statement. He then continues to look down at you.

"I've heard some things. That some of the scenes you've written are a bit... steamy. If you know what I mean"

There is that same treacherous blush again. How could you get out of this?

"No I don't" and a tricky smile adorns your features, "enlighten me"

Great. The best way out seems to be going down.

"Is that right? You don't know what I mean? Well, you're the hand behind these love scenes, aren't you?"

The small input in this movie, by yours truly. When he received the script, he recoiled at how bad it was, almost calling his agent to call quits on the project. But then he had read the first of many scenes involving a certain type of action, and he decided to stay. Now that he stands before you, knowing it's you who's written them, he finds the discovery amusing and worth entertaining, no matter if he was initially pissed at the fact you were also part of the reasons why he wanted to quit.

A cocky smile appears on the actor's face when you get closer: he likes how, despite the embarrasing events you still find it in you to stand before him, spark behind your eyes full of mischief. It all starts to make sense, he thinks with amusement.

"Love scenes?" you taunt. "You mean the ones were they break furniture and blow off steam with the nasties sounds ever heard to human kind? Nope, doesn't sound like it; no idea what you're talking about" Then you pause, to keep suspense. You lick your lips, making sure to hold his gaze. "Unless..."

Dieter snickers when you describe the scenes; filming hadn't yet get there but he is eager. The actor's gaze is fixed on you as he lets out a low hum.

"Unless what? You can't just pause there, now that got me intrigued"

This isn't real, because he genuinely seems interested in what you'll say next.

"Unless you want to recreate them before filming, since you know, you're so damn interested. Sweeping your big nose in business you shouldn't" you called his nose big not as an offense but rather a compliment: it's literally the prettiest you've ever seen. Hell, it's not only endearment you feel towards it; you've literally wrote a scene where the female lead grinds off it, all while thinking of him. You really hope he's lying about reading your stuff. "Metiche"

Dieter lets out a surprised laugh at your comment about his nose, positive in his mind. He found it amusing that you called it big, which usually would be negative to some, but he didn't really mind. It's also funny in a way, and he finds to be enjoying this more than he should, long forgotten his complains or the movie he's supposed to be shooting as of now.

"Metiche, huh? You have quite the mouth on you"

"Do I?" are you confident, bold or stupid? "You haven't even seen anything yet, Mr. Bravo"

Dieter lets out another chuckle at your confidence. He's definitely entertained by your responses. He tilts his head while giving you a curious expression.

"Is that so? You have something more you'd like to share, doll? I'm open to see whatever you have if I haven't seen it already"

"Or read" I joke, "like I seriously need to check my friends to see who would sell me out. Did you truly read my stuff or you're just fucking with me?"

Dieter lets out another chuckle, finding your joke funny. He then gets a more serious, but still amused, expression on his face.

"I'm not messing with you, I did read some of them, including the ones on this movie. I didn't lie about that, I promise" he pauses for a brief moment, letting out an amused hum. "Y no te preocupes, linda. No estoy jugando contigo"

"If you didn't lie then I suppose you'd know who I had in mind when I wrote that scene of a guy eating a girl's pussy while she sits in his face, grinding on it. I'll give you a clue" you tiptoe, until the hot of your breathe clashes against the cold of his ear's skin, "he's got a big nose"

Dieter lets out a low hum when you drop the clue. "A big nose huh? Sounds familiar"

"It does?" you ask on an overly saccharine tone, fingers carressing the bridge of his nose, softly.

How did we get here?

He leans in a bit to get closer, clearly into your little taunts.

"Yeah, it does. And you just confirmed it too, no need to try to hide it now"

"Woah, don't let the ego win over, Mr. Bravo. A lot of people got big nose, you included" you smirk, removing your fingers from his face, and he would never admit out loud he instantly misses the warmth of your touch. "It's just coincidental you got the part and matched the character's description. You know what they say: all events depicted in this movie are fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental" you recite.

He laughs, shyly. "I know a lot of people have big noses, but I do wonder why you chose that trait in particular"

"I wonder too" then your tone drops low, "We should try, you know, to see if it's viable before we get to filming that part... call it exploratory research"

He feels your fingers touching again his nose.

"Exploratory research, you say?" Dieter lets out a soft chuckle. "How about you be a doll and show me some of that research. I'll gladly be the test subject"

You get flustered. This went too far. Why aren't you running away, or banging your head against a wall for some common sense? This is getting ridiculous, but so is the wet spot between your legs.

"Um, I- wow, I- do you really...? No way" you become a rambling mess again, trying to steady yourself, "You want to eat my pussy?"

The words come out brash, making you cringe.

"Is that what you're saying, Mr. Bravo? You can still turn around and pretend you don't know me. Muero de pena"

Hee tilts his head to the side, looking at you with an almost wolf-like look in his eyes. He takes a step closer, so more of his body is against your own, his face closer to yours.

"Don't do that. You don't have to be embarassed, doll" his finger plays with your lower lip. "I'm saying exactly that"

"Please" voice so small it feels like you'll break, "do it"

The actor lets out a hum in response to your small voice.

"Right here...?"

"No!" you jump horrified, getting out of the horny haze for a bit. "Oh, God. Do you want to be blacklisted, Dieter?" squeaky, lowering your gaze to avoid his, resorting to playing with your fingers. "You have a room, right? They gave you one.... just for you, right?"

He nods his head in response.

"Perks of being the lead actor" he beams a bit proud with full-blown ego in display. "I have my own trailer, and it's not that far away"

"It's okay, I like walking anyways" you reply. "As a matter of fact, I like a lot of things"

The actor lets out another soft laugh in response.

"You're cheeky, you know that, baby?"

He starts to lead you towards his trailer, putting his arm around your waist. It feels big and warm, his touch making a current shoot down until it looses in between your legs. If this is what fighting and low paid terrible jobs got you, you'd do it more often.

"Cheeky? Cute? Do you want to kill me?" I laugh as we almost make it there. "Turns out, I kinda like that"

Now, where you testing your luck by keeping on running your mouth? You need to shut it up forever.

The actor chuckles when you ask if he wants to kill you, stopping in his tracks when you mention that you kind of like that. He looks down at you with a soft, yet cocky smile, but his arm still lingers around your waist.

"I've never heard a woman say that before, doll. I'm starting to believe you have some weird things you're into"

I'm a porn writer, but now you stop before saying more shit. His comment makes you flustered, getting shy all of the sudden as if you hadn't just half-admitted part of your kinks.

Whatever, what's out in the open air can't be unsaid. And Dieter seems to be just as into this as you, finally someone to match your freak after all those men whose cowardice made them leave before the fun started. I'm a porn writer, what'd you expect? It would be fun if I was into vainilla stuff.

"Weird things?" you pretend to be offended, "what do you have in mind?"

"Me? You want me to think? My head is still hurting from yesterday's hangover" he jokes, "why don't you be a doll and tell me exactly what you want?"

You smirk devilishly and he's taken back by the change of your demeanor. You were truly a little wolf disguised as a sheep.

"What I want is for you to press your weight onto me as you fuck me raw" you get red as you spill the lewd thoughts out loud, but it's what you write so it's not new. Your eyes dart to the curve of his soft belly, tight against his shirt. You look away, even redder if possible. "For the research, of course! All with purpose, to uh- See if I don't suffocate- the character, I mean!"

Your dirty words darken his brown kit-kat eyes, clearly enjoying the way you talk to him.

"Of course, for the research. Got to make sure the scene is accurate, right?"

He lets out a small hum and moves his hand on your waist, until they dig in your hips.

"Yeah, because we're professionals. Is this your trailer?" you ask, trying to deviate the conversation because your face keeps getting hotter. "This is your last chance to turn your back before this gets weirder. Hell, I might even leave the country"

The actor smiles at your comment about being professionals, finding it amusing.

"It's my trailer, doll. And I'm not turning my back after how this conversation is going. If I wanted, I would've already left. You'd have to try to get rid of me yourself"

Dieter then grabs his door handle and turns it, opening the door to his trailer. Your heart beats faster than humanely possible.

"Please don't look at me like that"

Dieter lets out a soft hum and looks down at you with a cheeky smile.

"Why not? I like to look at you"

He leads you inside the trailer. Once you're both inside, he shuts the door behind him. With lock. Hearing the click makes your heart skip a beat.

"Don't look at me like you'd do all the stupid things I've said"

The actor is clearly amused by your words.

"What makes you think I wouldn't?"

He licks his lips with anticipation, bracing himself for what's to come.

"I think you're smart. That you know what's best for you" your fingers go to his curls, and you can feel him shiver at the touch. His hungry expression goes soft for a brief moment, and you think you like that too.

"Mmm... your hands feel nice..."

You smile like the Cheshire cat. "And they feel even better when you put them to good use"

The actor lets out a low chuckle in response to your words and looks down at you with a cocky smile.

"Is that a hint, darling?"

"A hint?" you snort. "That's a whole ass answer in red, bold and capital letters"

The man lets out a loud laugh at your response.

"Damn, you're feisty with that attitude, aren't you, doll?"

"Am I?" your eyes darken, body walking in automatic, closing the distance. His soft body irradiates warmth, the section between his pants feeling hard. "Will you punish me for that?"

The actor lets out a soft hum when he feels your body against his own. Dieter's face slowly gets more lustful.

"Mmm, depends on how bad you are, doll. I could punish you if you misbehave"

"What would you count as misbeheaving, Mr. Bravo? I just want to be a good girl" you whisper, batting eyelashes.

The man smirks at your comment and the way you bat your eyelashes teasingly.

"You'll see. You wouldn't want me to spoil the surprise, doll. Being a good girl will get you a nice reward, though"

"Like" you caress his nose, "helping me on the research part?"

Dieter enjoys your teasing touch on his nose and smirks at your comment.

"Mmm, just like the research part, doll"

"Would you show me?" you ask out in a tone so sweet, he's about to come right there. He didn't think it was possible, even. So he lets out a cocky laugh as he says, tone dropping too:

"Maybe I should if you're so persistent in not believing me"

You roll you eyes. "You really think I'm that easy to convince?"

"That's not a no" Dieter smirks.

You scoff. "It's also not a yes"

His tricky ringed fingers trace until it gets in the middle of your legs, feeling your dripping arousal. He then removes the finger and licks it with his long tongue, the scene as obscene as it is but never removing his gaze from yours.

"You sure? Your words might say one thing, but your body says something else"

You get defensive, despite him cornering your frame against one of the trailers walls.

"What would you know about my body?"

Even if his eyes bear irritation, he lets out an entertained laugh.

"I see you like playing these games. Pissing me off until I shut you up myself"

"I don't care" your tongue drips in snark, and he's equally pissed and turned on.

"You're a bad liar, doll. Can't act even if your life depended on it"

You scoff, as you muster the most annoyed tone you can. "Yeah?"

"I ain't met you that long, but I can tell how your body needs me" his voice sends shivers down your spine. "Still think I'm dumb? That I can't see the way you look at me, lips almost drooling, body shaking, pleading me to touch it?" all words you could say die in your throat. "What's that? Cat got your tongue? I see you're busier getting wet"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about" but there's no confidence in your voice anymore, giving away how turned on you were. Your mind goes numb at the dangerous game you're playing, coming only to your senses when his hard cock grinds against your soaked panties.

"I think you do" Dieter bites his lip, giving your core another hard rub. "I know you'd love to feel my cock around your pretty soaked pussy. Hell, you've been begging for it"

Your mind may be backtracking, but your body definitely wasn't.

"C'mon. Stop playing hard to get, doll" Dieter chuckles, "I know you want this"

He doesn't get a word out of you, but the patch against his jeans growing wetter is enough.

"Answer me" a little moan leaves your lips as he presses himself closer, his lips devouring yours in a rough fashion. "You better talk when I tell you to. Thought you'd behave" his hand easily pulls up your knitted sweater, revealing no bra. "Damn brat. Of course you wanted this: wearin' nothing to the set and writing those scenes getting off to me like some fuckin' creep" you moan at the humiliating words coming out of his filthy mouth as he touches the rosy skin gently before giving your hardened nipple a lick and then a little bite just to hear you whine.

Dieter then grabs you by your thighs, placing you down on top of what appears to be a small kitchen's counter, his growing bulge pressed against your cunt: the hard, the cold meeting hot... it all has you incredibly turned on. You feel the cool of the rings on his hand as it starts to eagerly wander under your skirt, rubbing his middle finger in between your clothed folds.

"That's right, I wore this to have you" you moan against his lips as his fingers find your clit, making slow but steady circles, "because yes, I wrote those scenes thinking of you"

"What a bad bad girl" Dieter chuckles darkly, "wanna hear you take your well deserved punishment. And don't worry, we're far away so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, doll"

He wastes no time in giving you such, pulling down the hem of your panties until they fall down to the trailer's floor. Before him, the best sight ever revealed to men: your sticky mess of a pussy. Dieter grabs onto your thighs, spreading them slowly as he leaves a trail of kisses on the inside, his beard and fluffy hair creating tickles. He then licks the folds of your moisty entrance. When you move, you hear him tut. "Be a good girl, yeah? Stay still" and now his hands hold your thighs, keeping them in place as the rings fig in your skin. His tongue hits your sensitive folds just right, making a series of sounds leave your lips. So addicting, he thinks.

"I-I'll be a good girl" you whine, "just please. Don't stop"

Your toes curl and you begin to see stars. You're surprised he's quite compliant, adding extra pressure with his tongue, slurping on your juices with a sound so obscene, even your dirty horny mind hadn't been capable of picturing. But here he was, Dieter fucking Bravo: the reason you started writing steamy scenes and agreed to do them for this project he was starring in, him always in your mind, now eating your pussy like a starved man inside the walls of his trailer.

Your mind turns into goo and your body into a sensitive mess. Your legs start to shake, clench up and tremble, leaving you a moaning mess. You weren't going to pull away, and Dieter seemed to like that feisty side of yours, yet his hold didn't loose a bit. His index and middle finger leave your red clit and slide into your soaked nub, his thumb now doing the work on it.

"That's right, baby. Tell Dieter how much you love his fingers inside of you, you cock hungry slut"

You come all over his hand, legs tensing up as you tug his messy curls into your now tight-white fists.

"I said talk" he now grabs your hair, pulling your face closer. "Gonna be ungrateful, when I just gave you the best orgasm of your life? Say it, brat"

"Thank you, Mr. Bravo" you pant out, still recovering from the high.

That makes it two discoveries as of now:

You weren't wrong when you wrote those scenes picturing him

Dieter lived up to his reputation, because that is indeed, the best orgasm of your life

You won't stroke his ego, though. And he doesn't need it either, as he's calling you good girl while leaving love bites all over your neck. "Mine" he hisses, and you let yourself believe it for a while.

"We done, sweetheart?" you shake your head. "That's right, research has just began. Bet you want my rock hard dick inside of you now"

You whine, and he leans closer. "Why do I even ask? Gonna give you my cock for you to take like the little whore you are"

You slid your hand into his pair of briefs, giving his cock a few strokes.

"See? such a hungry girl" he seethes. "Who gave you permission, you fucking brat?"

A sting spreads across your bare clit, making you moan. That's not what you had in mind, but it's embarrassing how turned on it's making you. Well, you have some certainly interesting ideas for what to write next.

"Answer me" his tone is demanding, his large palm delivering another harsh slap to your cunt.

"N-no one"

"How do we say, then? Be a good girl and show me your manners"

"P-please!" you mewl, soon feeling his tongue soothing the pain.

"So you do know how to be a good girl" Dieter praises, pressing a light kiss to your puffy folds. "Now, where were we?"

He frees his pulsating member from the confines of the underwear, revealing his throbbing cock, ready to rub it against your folds. A little whine left your lips as he kept rocking his hips back and forth.

"Talking back to me before, where is that girl gone? All I see is a hungry slut, ready to take my cock like the little good girl she is"

Dieter pushes his tip further enough to be at the entrance of your burning hole, and you whine in frustration and need, that attitude he teases you with, long gone. All you want is him to fuck you.

"That's right, beg like the fucking whore you are"

"Just fill me up with your thick cum and fuck me until I won't be able to stand up"

"Dangerous game you playin', doll" but his expression is all hunger and no warning.

"Just fuck me" you spit. "I'm yours. Use me"

That seems to do the trick.

"Good girl" and Dieter fully pushes himself inside of you, he abuses your clit, entering him fully inside of you over and over again, not even giving you time to adjust to his girth; surprinsgly (or not), you liked it rough. His wet kisses become sloppier and rushed, landing on your lips, corners of your mouth, jaw and neck. A string of drool is on his as he pulls them out, rather prefering to hear the sounds you drowned against his lips on full volume. His hands grab you by your hips while his buck back a forth in a rough pace. Surpringsly, Dieter remembers his promise, your body caged by his bigger frame as he fucks you on the counter, feeling the swell of his belly against your lower abdomen. He pushes hard, his heavier weight making your back start to ache against the cold metal, the wall behind you digging painfully on your skin. But doesn't it feel so good?

"So fucking good" he groans, his forehead pressed against yours, breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he stares intensely into your eyes, "so tight"

You grab onto his back as he stretches you out, his pace speeding up. You moan against his ear as your nails dig further into his back with every thrust, saying his name. You come closer to your orgasm as he hits the right spot over and over again.

"Fuck... the way you beg for it, like a needy little slut. It's so fucking hot" Dieter wraps his hand around your throat, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point. "I'm going to ruin you, doll. Gonna fuck you so hard that you'll forget your own fucking name" his voice is a low, guttural growl, filled with a raw, animalistic desire. "All you'll know is the feeling of my cock splitting you open, claiming you"

His words and movements edge you close, sweat dripping and clinging uncomfortably to your skin due to the reduced space.

"I-I'm close again"

"But you better come with me, spoiled little girl. Ain't doin' it alone after all I've done for you" he groans, his thrusts becoming more and more aggressive.

Your walls clench against his soaked dick, his pace suddenly slowing as his cum fills your hole, coating your walls.

"F-fuck"

You try to even your breaths as he rests his head on your shoulder, bodies pressed together.

"So, was I of help?"

You chuckle at his attempt for small talk.

"You di good, Dieter. Mission accomplished"

"Right" he sounds a bit dissapointed, making the corners of your lips raise. "Well, If you ever need a helping hand" he wiggles his brows, "you know were to find me"

"I do" you press a brief kiss to his lips. "As a matter of fact, you can also tell me when you need my helping hand" said hand travels down, feeling his dick hard again. The sight alone makes you drool. "What'd you say, cowboy? Up for analyzing the collected data? We didn't even try with your nose"

"I knew it was mine!"

[jzprncess]

threads of the past ౨ৎ

pairing : charles leclerc x reader

faceclaim : various people

main summary : Y/N and Charles grew up together in Monaco, sharing a close bond until her mother took her away after a family conflict. Many years later, after a loss she had to endure, Y/N returns to Monaco to fulfill a promise. There, she unexpectedly reunites with Charles, now a successful Formula 1 driver.

part 1

word count : 3,989

warnings : some designers do not exist in this au since i might take their fashion pieces!

note: this series will start off as a regular story and than gradually become a smau i think. i dont know tbh.

────୨ৎ────

The early afternoon sun bathed the narrow streets of Monaco in a golden glow, the faint hum of the Mediterranean breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and saltwater. In a quiet corner of the city, two children raced barefoot along the cobblestone path, their laughter echoing off the pastel walls of the buildings.

“Faster, Charles! You’re going to lose!” Y/N called over her shoulder, her grin wide as she darted ahead, her sundress billowing behind her.

“I don’t lose!” Charles shouted back, his face red from effort, his untamed brown hair sticking to his forehead. His determination was as fiery as the midday heat, and it wasn’t long before he closed the gap between them.

With one final burst of energy, Charles lunged forward, tagging Y/N’s shoulder just as she reached the large oak tree at the end of their street. They both collapsed in a heap beneath the tree, panting and giggling.

“You cheated,” Y/N accused, pointing a chalky finger at him.

Charles sat up straight, his chest puffed out proudly. “Did not. I’m just faster than you.”

She scoffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Only because I let you win.”

“Sure, you did,” he replied with a smirk, grabbing a fallen leaf and sticking it in her hair.

“Charles!” Y/N squealed, swatting at him as he burst out laughing. She shoved him lightly, but her smile betrayed her lack of seriousness.

Their days were often like this—filled with playful arguments, endless games, and the kind of joy that could only come from being young and carefree.

The bond between Y/N and Charles had formed long before either of them could remember. Their mothers often joked that they were inseparable from the moment they learned to walk. Born just two months apart, they’d spent nearly every day of their childhood together, whether it was exploring the rocky beaches or building forts in the small park near their street.

In the summer, they would race handmade sailboats in the fountain at the Place d’Armes. Y/N’s boats were always more colorful, with bright scraps of fabric for sails, while Charles’ were sturdy and precise, made with the help of his father.

“Yours is going to sink,” Charles teased one afternoon, nudging her shoulder as they crouched by the fountain’s edge.

“Is not! Look, it’s already ahead of yours,” Y/N shot back, pointing to where her pink-sailed boat bobbed confidently on the water.

“That’s because I let you go first,” Charles argued, though his grin gave him away.

When her boat finally won, Y/N jumped to her feet, hands in the air. “I win! Told you mine was better!”

Charles groaned dramatically, flopping onto the grass beside the fountain. “Fine, you win. But only because mine hit a leaf.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Y/N said, lying down next to him.

They stared up at the clear blue sky, the sound of birds chirping and distant waves lapping at the shore filling the silence.

“Do you think we’ll always stay here?” Y/N asked, her voice soft.

“Of course,” Charles replied without hesitation. “Where else would we go?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She didn’t want to think about what life would be like if things ever changed.

Their friendship was the kind that felt unshakable. They knew everything about each other—what foods they hated, which hiding spots were the best during hide-and-seek, and even their secret fears.

One evening, as the sun dipped low over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, they sat cross-legged on the floor of Y/N’s bedroom. The soft hum of cicadas drifted through the open window.

“What are you scared of, Charles?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, puffing out his chest.

“Liar,” Y/N teased, poking his arm. “Everyone’s scared of something.”

Charles hesitated, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Fine. I don’t like the dark.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Really? But you always act so brave!”

He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like there’s something there, even when I know there isn’t.”

Y/N reached over and squeezed his hand. “If you’re ever scared, you can call me. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

Charles looked at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks. What about you? What are you scared of?”

She hesitated, glancing down at her lap. “That someday... we won’t be friends anymore.”

Charles’s brow furrowed. “Why would you think that?”

Y/N shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes my parents fight a lot, and my mom says things about leaving Monaco.”

Charles’s grip on her hand tightened. “You’re not going anywhere. I won’t let you.”

The conviction in his voice made her smile, even as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he said firmly.

But life had other plans.

A few weeks later, Charles started karting. At first, Y/N thought it was just another one of his hobbies, like soccer or building model airplanes. But it quickly became clear that this was different. Charles was obsessed, spending every spare moment practicing or talking about races.

Y/N tried to be supportive, but she couldn’t help feeling a little left out. Their afternoons of racing bikes and playing by the fountain were replaced with stories about karting championships and lap times.

One Saturday, she stood by the edge of the track, watching as Charles zipped around in his tiny kart, his face set in fierce concentration. Pascale stood beside her, cheering loudly every time Charles passed by.

“He’s really good,” Y/N admitted, though her voice was tinged with sadness.

“He is,” Pascale agreed, glancing down at her. “But he misses you, you know.”

Y/N looked up at her in surprise. “Really?”

Pascale nodded. “You’re his best friend. That doesn’t change just because he’s racing now.”

Her words comforted Y/N, but only for a little while.

A few weeks later, everything changed.

The fights between Y/N’s parents, once muffled whispers behind closed doors, had escalated into full-blown shouting matches. The walls of their home, which once echoed with laughter, now felt cold and thin, trembling under the weight of angry words. Plates clattered. Doors slammed. Y/N learned to tread lightly, her small frame slipping quietly through the spaces of their house as if trying to become invisible.

Late one night, she was jolted awake by the familiar sound of raised voices. The clock on her bedside table read 12:47 a.m. in glowing red numbers, but it could have been any time—this had become routine. Still clutching her stuffed rabbit, she hesitated before slipping out of bed, her bare feet making no sound on the floorboards.

At the top of the stairs, she crouched low, gripping the wooden railing as though it might steady her trembling hands. Below, the living room light flickered, casting long, restless shadows across the walls. Her father stood by the door, his face drawn and tired, while her mother paced back and forth, her voice sharp and brittle.

“I can’t do this anymore, David,” her mother said, her words breaking like glass.

“So, you’re running away? That’s your solution?” her father countered, his voice quieter but no less strained.

“I’m protecting her!” Y/N’s mother shouted, her hands shaking as she gestured toward the staircase. “She deserves stability, not this—this endless cycle of fighting.”

Y/N froze, her heart pounding in her chest. They were talking about her.

Her mother turned away from her father, her shoulders sagging as she began yanking open drawers and rummaging through cabinets. Moments later, a suitcase appeared on the couch, and Y/N watched as her mother began throwing clothes into it—shirts, dresses, anything within reach. Her movements were frantic, as if staying still might shatter her resolve.

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes as she tightened her grip on the stuffed rabbit, pressing it to her chest. Her father said something else—something quieter that she couldn’t hear—but her mother ignored him, zipping the suitcase with a finality that made Y/N’s stomach churn.

She wanted to run downstairs, to demand an explanation, but her feet felt glued to the spot.

The next morning, the house was eerily quiet. Y/N sat at the kitchen table, poking at a bowl of cereal that had long since gone soggy. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken words.

Her mother entered the room, her expression tired but determined. She sat down across from Y/N, reaching for her hand.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” her mother began, her voice gentler now.

Y/N looked up, her heart sinking as she saw the suitcase by the door. “What’s going on?”

Her mother sighed, brushing a stray hair from Y/N’s face. “We’re leaving. It’s... it’s for the best.”

“Leaving?” Y/N’s voice cracked, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Where are we going?”

“To America,” her mother replied, her tone clipped but firm.

“America?” Y/N repeated, the word foreign and strange on her tongue. “Why? What about Dad? What about—” Her voice caught in her throat. “What about Charles?”

Her mother hesitated, the faintest flicker of guilt crossing her face. “This isn’t about them, Y/N. Sometimes we have to make hard choices to protect the people we love. You’ll understand one day.”

Y/N shook her head, her chest tightening. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave—”

“Honey.” Her mother’s voice softened, her hand reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I know this is hard. But we’ll be better off there. I promise.”

The promise felt hollow, but Y/N didn’t have the words to fight back.

The following day came too quickly, the hours slipping through Y/N’s fingers like grains of sand. The taxi idled outside their home, its engine humming softly as her mother double-checked the bags.

Y/N stood by the door, her small suitcase clutched in one hand, her other hand gripping the stuffed rabbit that had been her silent companion through all of this. Her father wasn’t there—he had left for work early, unable or unwilling to say goodbye.

As she climbed into the back seat of the taxi, Y/N pressed her face to the window, her breath fogging up the glass. Her heart ached with a heaviness she didn’t yet have the words to describe.

As the taxi pulled away, she caught sight of Charles standing outside his house, his arms crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed in confusion. He wore his favorite red T-shirt, the one he always wore on race days, and his hair was messy, as if he had just woken up.

“Charles,” Y/N whispered, her voice too quiet to reach him.

His expression shifted from confusion to something else—heartbreak. He took a step forward as if to chase after the taxi but stopped, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Y/N wanted to wave, to shout out the window and tell him she’d come back. But the lump in her throat was too heavy, and her hands refused to move. She could only watch as the familiar streets of Monaco blurred into the distance, Charles’s figure growing smaller and smaller until he disappeared entirely.

The weight of the moment pressed down on her chest, and for the first time, she truly understood what it meant to lose something precious.

And just like that, Y/N’s life in Monaco—and her friendship with Charles—was gone.

The streets of New York City were a symphony of noise and movement—taxis honked their horns in frustration, pedestrians hurried across streets, and the occasional siren blared in the distance. For twelve-year-old Y/N, the city's frantic energy was completely foreign. She had spent her entire life in the quiet beauty of Monaco, where everything moved a little slower, and the streets smelled of saltwater and sunshine. Here, the air was thick with the scent of exhaust fumes and hot dogs. The constant rush of people and cars felt like a constant reminder of how different her life had become.

Her mother had tried her best to make the transition as smooth as possible. They had found a modest apartment above a deli in the Upper West Side. The apartment was cramped, with peeling paint on the walls and creaky floors, but Y/N’s mother always tried to make it feel like home. She hung up brightly colored paintings, filled the shelves with books, and made sure the small kitchen was always stocked with ingredients to make Y/N’s favorite meals. Yet, no matter how many times Y/N tried to settle into her new life, there was a constant ache in her chest—the kind that came from a home she’d left behind.

At first, the culture shock was overwhelming. The city was alive with people from all over the world, but Y/N felt like a stranger in her own skin. School was different too. The other kids were loud and confident, their lives full of stories of places Y/N had never been. They spoke with an ease she envied, while she struggled to find the right words. The accent she had brought from Monaco stood out, and for the first time, she felt different, isolated.

But time, as it always does, began to heal the raw edges of her heart. The first time Y/N walked down the streets of Manhattan without feeling lost in the crowd, she realized she was slowly learning how to belong. She found solace in the quiet of the city's parks and in the rhythm of sketching designs in her notebook. Fashion had always been an escape for her. Whether she was creating something new from scraps or drawing intricate gowns on blank pages, it gave her a sense of purpose. And when the sewing machine hummed late into the night, it made the world outside her window fade away.

By the time she was sixteen, Y/N had started to make a name for herself. She took the subway to school every morning, sketchbook always in hand, where she studied the diverse styles around her—city folk in their sharp suits, the tourists who wore bold colors, and the older women who seemed to have perfected the art of elegant, understated chic. Each person was a new inspiration, a living canvas for her ideas.

It was then that Y/N’s designs started to catch the eye of local boutiques and independent designers. She worked part-time at a small fashion studio, sewing for local designers and creating custom pieces for clients. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a start. The more she worked, the more connections she made. She began hosting small fashion shows, her pieces catching the attention of semi-famous figures who loved her work. It wasn’t the kind of fame she had always dreamed of—being a designer whose name appeared in glossy magazines alongside Vera Wang or Marc Jacobs—but it was something.

Still, something was missing.

As much as she tried to bury the past, it kept resurfacing. Monaco lingered in the corners of her mind, a quiet presence that never truly left. On quieter evenings, when the city outside felt still and distant, Y/N would sit by the window, her thoughts drifting to Charles. She would trace the lines of the buildings with her eyes, remembering the way the sun would shine on the harbor in Monaco, casting golden reflections on the water. She could still see Charles’s smile, hear his laughter as they raced down the streets on their bikes. Sometimes, she would pull out the old pictures of the two of them, taken on the beach in Monaco, their faces covered with sand as they giggled at their own silliness.

She had written to him once, the year after they left, but the letter was returned. Her mother had torn it up without saying a word. “Some things are better left in the past,” she had said with a sadness Y/N didn’t understand at the time.

Her father had been another ghost in her life. He had passed away when Y/N was just twelve. Her mother kept the news from her for as long as she could, protecting Y/N from the heartbreak that followed. It wasn’t until a year later, when Y/N found the letter tucked into the back of a drawer, that the truth came to light. The letter had been from her father, a note he had written before he died. He had left Y/N some money and a few possessions, things he had meant to pass down to her. But it was more than just material things—it was a piece of the past Y/N hadn’t been ready to face.

For years, Y/N pushed the letter away. She had no desire to open it, no desire to look back at a life she had left behind. But when she turned twenty-two, everything began to change.

Her mother had grown ill—first it was a cough, then it was difficult breathing. The diagnosis came swiftly, and the doctors were blunt: cancer. Fatal. The world around Y/N seemed to collapse, her foundation shaken to its core. She watched as the woman who had once been full of life became frail and weak.

The last few months with her mother were a blur of hospital visits and whispered goodbyes. The woman who had been her protector, the one who had shielded her from the pain of their broken family, was now the one who needed saving. And Y/N couldn’t fix it.

A week before her mother’s death, in a quiet hospital room with the smell of antiseptic heavy in the air, her mother had handed her an envelope. “This letter is for you,” she said weakly, her hands trembling. “When I’m gone... open it. And make the promise you made to me.”

Y/N didn’t understand at the time. But she took the envelope, her fingers brushing against the paper as she wondered why it felt so heavy.

When her mother passed, Y/N felt as though the world had stopped turning. The days bled together, a monotonous blur of work, sadness, and restless nights. She poured herself into her designs, hoping to find some semblance of peace. But peace didn’t come. She wandered through her apartment, the quiet weighing on her, the memories of Monaco creeping into every corner of her mind.

It was a rainy afternoon in the fall, the kind of weather that made everything feel like it was shrouded in a veil of sadness, when she finally opened the letter.

the letter

My Dearest Y/N,

I don’t know how to begin this letter. There are so many things I should have said to you over the years, and I wonder if I ever really had the words to explain them. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life has a way of moving so quickly that you often miss the most important moments. This is one of those moments. So, I’ll say the things I’ve been meaning to say for so long, even if it’s too late now.

When we left Monaco, it wasn’t just because of the fighting, though that was certainly part of it. But I made a choice that day, a choice I thought was best for us both. I wanted to protect you from the pain, from the complexities of the life we had, from the things I couldn’t explain. I thought that if I took you away, if I removed you from the pressures of that world, you’d have a chance to grow up without the baggage of the past weighing you down. I was wrong.

You always did have a light in you, Y/N. A light that shone so brightly, I knew it would carry you far. When we arrived in New York, I thought you’d grow into someone different, someone independent and strong, someone who could build a life on her own. And you did. You are everything I ever hoped for you to be. But I realize now that there’s something missing. Something I didn’t give you, something I didn’t allow you to have because I was too afraid to face the truth.

Your father… he loved you, Y/N. So much more than I ever let you know. I know I kept you from him, from the life we built together in Monaco, and for that, I am truly sorry. But the truth is, I wasn’t protecting you. I was protecting myself. From the things that I couldn’t fix, from the dreams that slipped through my fingers, and from a relationship I knew was falling apart. I thought that by taking you away, I could spare you from the heartache that I was too afraid to face.

But, my love, I was wrong. And the one thing I regret most is that I never let you fully understand who you were—who you could be. You are so much more than what I let you see. Your father’s legacy, your heritage, they are a part of you that I denied, and I can’t take that back. I see now that you need to return to where it all began.

There are things in Monaco, things in your father’s world, that you need to find for yourself. Pieces of you that will make you whole again. I made a promise to him before we left, and it’s a promise I failed to keep. But now, it’s your turn to fulfill it.

Go back to Monaco, Y/N. Go back to your roots, to the home you left behind. I know it won’t be easy, and I know you’ve built a life here, but there is something waiting for you there, something that will make all of this make sense. I don’t know how to explain it, but you’ll understand when you’re there. The city, the harbor, the streets where you and Charles used to ride your bikes together—they all hold a piece of the puzzle.

Charles... I’m sorry, my darling. I know that you must think I kept him from you out of spite, but that wasn’t it. I just didn’t want you to get hurt. He was never a part of our plan, and I didn’t want you to feel torn between two worlds. But the truth is, he’s always been a part of you, Y/N. He always will be. You were both so young, so full of dreams, and I could see the bond between you two even back then. It was something beautiful, something pure. I know it’s been years, and I don’t know what the future holds for the two of you, but I know that you need to find your way back to him.

I don’t know if that means rekindling the friendship you once had or something else, but don’t let fear keep you from it. Don’t let fear keep you from facing what you’ve always known deep down. That part of you, that light, has always been tied to Monaco and to Charles.

I won’t be there to see you take this step, Y/N. But I’m asking you to do it for me, for both of us. I want you to finally understand what I couldn’t give you, to understand the reasons behind the choices I made. I want you to see that you are not just the girl who left Monaco— you are part of something bigger than what we’ve built here.

Please, take this step, Y/N. Go back to Monaco. Find what’s waiting for you. And if nothing else, find peace.

I love you more than words can express, and I always will.

With all my heart, Mom

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey @alex-wotton

[miwiheroes]

Mike Wheeler and his Promise

"It means something that you can't break. Ever."

A huge part of Mike Wheeler's hidden character arc is set up in season 1, episode 2 with this scene right here. It's pretty much the motivation behind many of his actions towards El and Will, can be a partial explanation for his internalised homophobia and explains why he seems like to have a saviour complex.

Narratively, promises are made to be broken. When writers decide to make a promise 'important' and emphasise that this promise cannot be broken, ever, it will always come back to bite that character in the ass. Promises are either made to be broken in stories like these, or they are made to make a character feel trapped. Promises are rarely ever used in a romantic fashion unless the character cannot keep their promise or they feel like they are forced to.

What makes it really seem like Mike and El are a doomed couple to me is that the writers chose Mike to say: Ever.

No word is misplaced in writing a script. There is no such thing as an unintentional line in Stranger Things tbh, and this word in particular means two things:

Mike will always keep his promises throughout time.

Mike will keep his promises no matter if circumstances change, no matter if his feelings change.

There is no reason for this line to be in there other than to foreshadow the fact that Mike will eventually have to eat the words from his naive 12-year-old self. He will eventually regret promising something, but he'll feel like he can't go back. Ever.

The domino effect Promise begins:

*Smiling* "And we can go to the Snow Ball."

*Smiling* "Promise?"

*No longer smiling* "Promise."

This promise was made in order to foreshadow that it doesn't come true right? Because that is often what happens to promises narratively, and of course, it can't come to be because they get separated and Mike thinks she's died.

But.... the promise does come true.

So instead, this promise was made, narratively, to trap Mike. While this seems harsh of course, this young Mike has no idea that what he has just promised to himself is not only to go to the Snow Ball with El (which was a promise made to comfort her here, to make her feel like she will survive). He doesn't necessarily seem happy about making this promise. He seems more... indifferent. Knowing that this is something he just has to do.

Yeah, because this is definitely the actors' expressions and lighting and scenery you want for a first kiss, right?

So not only has Mike promised to go to the Snow Ball with her, he has also promised to save her, he has promised to be with her. And he can't break this promise, ever.

Even when his feelings change:

The writers separated Mike and El and put Mike with Will in season 2 for a reason. They used it to build up a good development of Mike and Will's dynamic of course, but it was also to change Mike's feelings.

It eventually becomes apparent to the viewer that Mike has resigned himself to not finding El. In season 2 episode 2, the last time we see Mike on the walkie, he walks away. Music swells and El looks onwards. Instead of looking happy, she seems disappointed that her bond with Mike is not as strong as she thought.

Mike, after his talk with Will in the same room, has begun to give up.

And over time, he figures out that maybe... maybe finding and choosing to Will's friend is the best thing he's ever done instead. Once he figures this out, he cries, he's not loud, he's not angry. But it's at least the thing to bring Will's message forward.

Then El comes back, and Mike feels like a liar.

I've never really figured out why Mike shouts 'LIAR!' many times towards Hopper when he's clearly projecting as he starts to cry. Until now. It's the guilt that he didn't keep his promise. The promise he had made back when El had almost died, back when El had clearly thought promises could never be broken. EVER. Even when feelings change.

Of course he'd felt pissed at Hopper. Hopper was the one to keep El safe, not Mike, which is not the thing he had promised.

When El returns, Mike says:

"I never stopped looking for you."

Woops, Michael, that's a bald-faced lie, and you know it. But he also knows what a promise is, something that can't ever be broken.

Mike is now committed into this relationship. He's ready to keep El as his girlfriend for many reasons, but the next commitments he makes (i.e. saying 'I love you') are not intentional.

In season 3:

Saying 'I love her' happens on accident, she's never meant to hear. The next time he's asked about it, he fumbles and wants to deny ever saying it. But when El says it back, he realises... oh shit. I really am in this now. I can't escape, even though I know my feelings are different.

In the famous words of Hopper. "I don't want things to change." "[I want] to go back to how [we] were."

Throughout summer, before the Mindflayer, his relationship with El was easy, it was fine. He could deal with this because he can still go to movie theatres with Will and his friends and El can't go out in public. His relationship isn't real, and the fights they have are just 'silly, stupid fights'.

But then she says she loves him too and now what? He realises this is real, he can't go back on what he's said again. Because no matter what, a promise can't be broken.

Now:

He has to reject childish things and pretend to be 'normal' (but only around El).

He has to keep away from Will, who has the potential to break his promise to El forever.

He still can't say 'I love you' because of this great big commitment, this potential for change, and El clocks him, despite his best efforts to keep up the same relationship he was trying to have in season 3.

When he no longer has the threat of this great big PROMISE looming over him, when he feels that El has no broken up with him through that note signed 'From, El', he now suddenly has the ability to act close to Will. When he's confident that El's safe and that they just need to get back to Hawkins, he's able to express how he really feels.

He can finally, finally work with Will without feeling guilty.

That is, until El's in danger again. Until Argyle reminds him of the ramifications of his girlfriend being missing, reminding him of the promise that he's always made.

That's when this intimacy with Will suddenly feels taboo again:

The next time he needs to make a commitment towards her, it's through pressure. The bottom line is, Mike likes being a hero, he wants to be a saviour, but he was never ready for it to feel like this.

When Will reminds him that he's the heart of the Party in Surfer Boy Pizza, he believes that it could never be Will that needs him, but that Will's telling him that it really is El that still needs him. And that she always will.

So he holds her hand, exactly like he did back in season one, and makes his Promise again, this time, knowing that he's trapping himself.

Now, instead of a naive kid, he's a teenager, he's changed, despite not wanting to. He's resigning himself to a life without truly being able to express his feelings. He's not just some kid going to the Snow Ball with a girl that he cares about, he's promising to love her, knowing he's trapped himself in this promise again.

After all, he's already promised to save her, and if he thinks saying 'I love you' will save her, he's gotta do it no matter his true feelings right?

In season 5, someone, someone needs to tell this poor boy that he does not need to keep his promise. El needs to tell him about her growth, what she has learned from her time at the lab---that is, that she does not need Mike to love her, which she seems to have understood. She has already accepted that her lover won't arrive at the train station.

And Mike should realise that saying 'I love you' did not in fact save El. It was the reminder to fight, that Max is in trouble, that there are more important things, bigger than their relationship, that allowed her to escape the vines.

So when Mike hears that he no needs to keep up this promise, that he no longer has to hate himself for being a 'liar' to someone he cares so much about, that he can open himself up to happiness and understanding again, he'll probably feel pretty complete.

What do you think?

[svt-rosalie]

ohh i loved your rosie sick fic....it was cutee. prettyyyy plsssss i want to see jihoon getting mad and being protective over our rosie when she gets mobbed/ stalked / when do over works herself.

. . . ♡ ROSIE ! ? 💻 DRABBLE ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ requested, angst! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

content warning / anxiety attacks, woozi & seungcheol get angry, mentions of bodily harm, angst, no comfort tbh??

idol doesn't mean your

doll to fuck with.

i-doll, yunjin

It was already a horrible morning for the youngest female member of Seventeen.

Nothing was going well for Rosalie; she thought she lost her passport before boarding her flight to go back to South Korea from California, she dropped her food that she received from the flight attendant for lunch and there were unfortunately no extras for her to eat - so the poor girl was genuinely famished, and to top it all she was only able to get maybe two decent hours of sleep the night before the flight.

So, to say Rosie is having a bad day would be an understatement. At this point nothing could be done to turn her already horrible morning into something better.

But something can definitely happen to make it worse. . . which would be a crowd swarming the exit that Rosalie and her members need to get through to get into their cars. All Rosie yearned at this point was her bed and all these people were making it insanely difficult for her. She was happy to have a mask to cover her irritated expression.

The crowd was overbearingly claustrophobic to look at. Seeing people pushing at one another to get the "best" photo and video of them, trying to hand gifts to the idols --which was pointless sometimes seeing as how the managers and bodyguards always got to it first and shoved the reaching hands down and away-- it made her heart race.

Rosie wasn't necessarily in the back of the group; she was more off to the side. Her mind was so oblivious to everything around her (so it seems her security was too— only focused on the front of the group) including the amount of people stampeding her way from behind.

Rosie yelped as she felt people begin to step on the back of her shoes and shove their phones into her face screaming words of love, in their terms.

More hands were reaching around her with posters, presents and letters for the girl to take or sign. Unfortunately at this point Rosie was circled by way too many people, it was dangerous — the body guards nor her members could see her anymore.

Rosie was scared. “Please back away, please move, please.” She pleaded. It fell on deaf ears. The crowd surrounding her just continued to push and shove trying to gain her attention.

Jihoon was about 20 feet ahead almost to the car when he looked back and noticed the girl was not with any other member or in the car already. Dread filled his stomach, despite what the crew and managers were telling him to just get in the car whilst we go get her. He turned around and basically ran into the crowd surrounding Rosalie pushing people out of the way, not caring if he had to deal with he repercussions the company would set in place.

“Move!” Woozi shouted out loud as he finally got into the center and found Rosalie crouched, covering her ears to block out the shouts.

His hands gently but firmly grabbed the girl to lift her up, pulling on one of her hands to reassure her that it was just him, her partner.

Jihoon held her to her to his side, and rushed the two (security beside them now blocking all paths to get to them) to the doors and inside their company cars.

Once the doors shut and no one could see inside them anymore, the dam broke and flooded.

Rosie was sobbing, her hands too shaky to wipe the tears away.

“Why was there no security behind us? Why was nobody with her?!” Seungcheol shouted, there was no answer. The staff in the front seats were silent as was the other members Woozi, Jeonghan, and Dino.

Rosalie’s sobs were muffled as she was held into her husband’s chest. A place of comfort that she so desperately needed in this moment.

“Can we please go home?” the female maknae asked, her voice cracking. Nobody said a word the whole car ride to their separate homes.

God only knows the rage and heartbreak the members were feeling for their beloved female maknae.

They knew if something like this happened again, words would be said — their idol image be damned.

Woozi’s statement he posted on Weverse that night:

“Today’s actions showed at the airport for SEVENTEENs return home was inforgivable.

Our fellow member and my partner Rosalie was pushed, shoved, shouted at, scratched and knocked over. Not to the lack of security but for lack of respect towards celebrity/idol figures as human beings. I have seen nobody apologize for this happening to her, instead people are stating that this is what she signed up for.

Due to our profession, our private lives have been very public since we were young and yes we chose this lifestyle and we enjoy doing what we love. Our job becomes extremely difficult when we are looked at as circus clowns, payed to do everyone’s bidding. We are human beings, with feelings and emotions despite what most may think.

If something like this is to ever happen again to myself, Rosalie, or any of my fellow members. I will personally take legal action against those who cause or physical, mental, and emotional harm, whether you are fans of us or not.

Stop thinking we are dolls that you can parade around and make do what you want at your will.

Have a good night.”

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[rottenpumpkin13]

You inspire so many new HCs that my brain shall one day break~

 

New HC(s):

Everyone has stickers they give Sephiroth at random times for random things because he deserves them.

Zack always puts one on his face. Sephiroth has gone through an entire meeting with a sparkly rainbow star on his forehead. (Zack is also responsible for the "no trying to sneak into Sephiroth's apartment to play 'Late Tooth Fairy But With Stickers' when he's sleeping" rule. He's responsible for several new rules in regards to sticker giving, tbh, but he maintains that that's part of the fun. He tactfully doesn't say how the deep sighs Angeal and Lazard give him for it are also part of the fun of it.)

Genesis gives Sephiroth's a laminated, wallet sized card full of empty square/box-like spaces, similar to that of a punch card, and when he's had all slots filled Sephiroth soon after finds candy mysteriously left on his desk. The candy type frequently changes, but he never receives one that he's disliked. If Sephiroth finds that he dislikes the newly tried candy that's been left on his desk, very mysteriously, then the next day he receives a replacement with something that he does like. (The first was a Banoran specialty sweet which narrowed down the list of suspects greatly. The fact that it was also 'sweet red apple' flavored narrowed it down even more so.)

Angeal mixes it up what he gives, but it's always something reminiscent of mostly normal childhood memories that Sephiroth should have had, like the rest of them*. Sephiroth receives a lot of little things that needed water to "come to life", including the occasional tiny plant. He finds them intriguing, as is evidence by his very feline-esque pupils growing as he watches the process entirely. It "sparks joy", as one would put it. (*Angeal maintains that Zack is also an outlier to most of this and they cannot account for the long favored Gongagan festivals' backwater game of 'Touch-Me Wrangling'.)

Cloud gets the gist of the whole sticker reward happenings, but it's not a Nibelheim thing so he's never actually experienced it either. Instead, Cloud gives Sephiroth what his childhood experiences were made of; practical things or cool things made with/gained by doing something practical/necessary. (He shyly explains this to Sephiroth when he offers him a handmade necklace with a Nibel Wolf fang from his own very first kill, mythril thread woven messily yet artfully around the leather cord. What Cloud doesn't explain is how deep the meanings of the first kill items are.)

+Lazard heard of what the boys are doing, the why of what the boys are doing and, well, he's nothing if not one who cares for his gremlins children Soldiers — even if that care is shown in the form of shouting and chasing the heathens them with a broom sometimes. Reward Stickers, thankfully, do not factor into any of those times. He sneaks little golden stars onto Post-Its attached to whatever papers he hands over to Sephiroth. When it seems like Sephiroth is having a bad day, Lazard makes a constellation around the star sticker. (He might not admit it, but seeing the little quirk of his lips when Sephiroth notices, a genuine smile or near enough if it, is held as a very special sight to him.)

Oh this fills my heart with joy 🥺💚 makes me think this conversation would go down though:

Hojo: Sephiroth, why in the blazes do you have a golden star sticker on your shoulder guard? How utterly unbecoming of a specimen of your caliber.

Sephiroth: It's my reward for not stabbing you with that spork you gave me when I was 7 to eat whatever that gray lab sludge was you called sustenance.

Hojo:

[blossoms-phan]

tit summary/thoughts/spoilers under the cut!! <3

hiii wanted to make one of these just so I can ramble about everything bc what a crazy night LMAOO gonna make another post about the day so this is just about the show

my soul left my body when the lights went dark omfg, that is literally one of my favourite parts about concerts/live shows. the smoke and lights was a lot but the second they came out it’s like everything cleared up, i loveee how they come out with their backs to us and then the happy silly music when they’re running around saying hi hehehehe

the whole intro/beginning part was so fun i just loved the bits when they were just talking to us, canada love, the history of dnp/why we're all here etc etc. the dolls/diorama is such a fun little phistory recap, though i will say it was not as wild as i was maybe expecting or what they've done on other nights lol. they "wrestled" in the first one, nothing in the manchester apartment, "kissed" (69-ed lol) in the london one and that was it but they were all SO well made (shoutout pj and sophie), i loved phil's hoodie for the 2 apartment era hehe

role model or no-le model: very fun section, i wish i could tell you all the fill in the blanks we did but i can't remember for the life of me lol i shouted yaoi so loud for all of the lawyer dan ones but alas :( but i do remember lawyer dan writes erotica about timbits, then when the side by sides came up on the screens after it had been changed to "Phim Phbits" which made them both genuinely laugh it was so sweetie. we killed regular dan and doctor phil

phanspiracies were: toilet, clothes, tour bus and wedding. honestly very solid picks, it was so surreal seeing those "phan proof" comps of them wearing the same clothes on the screen down to the zoomed in picture of the underwear from the christmas cookies video 😭 the tour bus clip will never not be crazy but it was SO funny bc we cheered so loudly after phil said it was true that they shared the bed and dan was judging us but all i could think about is the stunned silence from phantwerp day one, i will never forget listening to that live and it's probably been so entertaining for them to see the shift from that lmao. the wedding edits were so funny dan was like "i know you had that as your desktop background for 6 years" and someone behind me was like "YES I DID", dan's little kick and cheeky smile at "i'm just opposed to anything traditional" ok sure

i can't remember which section this was during it was something to do with discussing a past era but phil said "maybe I was just horny" and i screamed lmao

the boxing segment ajdjkskjsf i have been waiting for it my entire goddamn life tbh and it was so fun. no one told me about the visuals on the screen ok why do they look so GOOD in them?? i wasn't actually expecting them to knock each other out or anything but it did seem a tinyy bit tamed down from what i've seen before, like they were being very gentle with each other lol but it was cute, the bite was still bite-y and the run around the theatre was craaaazy, the camera following them is so good lol

they yapped for moose. meese. meeses for a minute straight and i forgot it was supposed to be a bit it was so natural they're good at it whether they like it or not

oh yeah that's the other thing. they are fucking INCREDIBLE performers. like, they are so good at what they do and it was one of the highlights of my life getting to experience it irl. the show is incredibly well paced, the script is funny, the audience participation makes it but it's so insane to see how well they work together. the comfort and familiarity after so many years plays a huge part (there was a solid like 7 shoulder touches btw) but their dynamic is soooo good, they play off of each other so well. literally everything @cheekyvank described to me about dan as a performer is true. he was ALWAYS moving, he moves his mouth and bends and grooves and does the absolute most but it's soooo natural, like he has so much fun doing it. that man is a theatre kid all grown up and it's incredibly endearing but he's also a master, like he was MADE to be on a stage, he's so fucking good at balancing between roasting and teasing us and pointing out at people and winking and he called out someone filming without actually saying anything and it was so smooth and lowkey hot but also like jesus i didn't even risk TRYING to take a picture i am sooooooo scared of him. also thanks to you @jonsaremembers i was looking forward to the 4 g's all night, i am their geeky girlie forever and ever 🫶

and phil. oh my sweet precious baby angel. my heart was burstingggg with phil love all night. he is so, so so so good literally everything right with this world tbh. you can tell he has SO much fun on the stage as well, there's moments where his smile softens or he just looks out onto the audience and i want to shower him with love and affection (and we did! i honestly think one of the loudest screams was for "normal phil" during role model hehe). he is so effortlessly funny, the silly little run over to the microphone every time for the "hiatus" was one of my favourite bits of the show. i absolutely loved his getting real with us bit, it reminded me so much of his youtube videos- and i hope he knows how powerful and meaningful that "light entertainment" is for us. his voice was soooo soft and gentle it was like we were his children he was talking to which i guess we kind of are in this context. i love him forever and ever

sister daniel. INCREDIBLE follow up. i knew it was coming and nothing prepared me for Her. another part of the set design/production that is so well done, the visuals and the bass dropping when she comes out is SOOO fucking good. i have never screamed so loudly in my life. i would do anything she asked me to. the underwear were so fucking short i could not see a THINGGG like. fucking hell. lots of pulling the dress down and legs crossed/staying sat the whole time though lol which fair but the confessions and water spraying was fun, it will never not be funny when dan shames people for opening their mouths after they say it's sister daniel's bath water lmfaooo

the SONG!!!!!!!! the most fun. in the entire world. it's so good it's so fun. the lyrics, them going FULL boy band mode, the hands folding over and doob grab was infinitely more devastating irl. dan is so fucking good at the dance i love you forever terminal theatre kid and i think phil has reached the peak of how well he can do it and i want to give him his flowers for trying his damn best every time you keep doing you baby. the part where it kinda slows down and they're just doing the geekiest moves ever like those are my BABIESSS dfjksajdks standing up to rave with dnp in a room full of phannies was the highlight of my entire fucking life.

this was SO much longer than i anticipated and i'm probably still gonna go on about things as i remember it but it was genuinely the most fun and memorable night of my life. i love these two silly little guys so much, it was so surreal seeing them in person after over a decade and i would do anything to experience it again but i'm so, so grateful i got to do it once and i will cherish the memories forever. and this has only made me more insane about them and cemented the fact that i wholeheartedly believe they love us, this new era, and that they're not going away anytime soon so i WILL see you guys back on the internet and hopefully outside of it one day again too <3

(i lied here’s the one picture I took aka far from dan’s prying eyes during the part where they’re not there being gay getting out of their clothes)

[yuuhta]

glimpse of us

pairing: inumaki toge/reader/okkotsu yuuta

warnings: based on joji's glimpse of us, inumaki and y/n cannot move on from each other, too many unspoken words!!!!!!!! they are a pain in my arse

words: 2305

note: y/n is a special grade sorcerer and has a technique that they use to negate cursed speech so cursed speech does not work on y/n :D and they all just graduated! i feel horrible abt this tbh, i need a part 2, some sort of comfort or something.... i badly need comedic relief,, bcs the plot in here is too heavy LOL i'm not used to angst when it's the jjk students.... if it's gojou, nanami, getou, toji???? HAND IT OVER QUICK

it had been a few months since you and inumaki broke up, but some things never really fade. you could feel the weight of the past pressing against your chest, suffocating in the quiet moments when you were alone. the laughter, the warmth of his hand in yours, the gentle way he'd look at you... they were all still there, lodged deep within your heart like stubborn memories you couldn’t erase, no matter how hard you tried.

your relationship with toge had always been the type that made your feelings go wild. it was easy going, but at the same time, intense, unpredictable, and, above all, unforgettable. it was like a wildfire that burned bright and fast, leaving nothing but ashes and smoke in its wake. at first, you thought you were both just simply passionate, deeply connected. and you were both young, full of dreams and promises.

but somewhere in the turbulence of life after graduation, things began to unravel.

it wasn’t just the physical distance that separated you both after school--it was the emotional distance, too. both of you were swept up in the weight of responsibilities, the expectations from being a jujutsu sorcerer, the tasks that come with it--especially when he's a grade 1 and you're a special grade, the pressures of a rapidly changing jujutsu world was really just immense. what started as an easy going relationship built on mutual care and understanding began to twist into something toxic. misunderstandings piled on top of each other. words were said in anger, apologies left unspoken, and resentment grew in the space where love used to be. heated arguments, shouting matches, and too many nights spent crying alone. inumaki, usually unserious and funny, became like a damn ghost--silent, distant, unable or unwilling to communicate, leaving you in the storm without a lifeline. and then, the silence. that suffocating, heartbreaking silence.

yuuta is the one you are seeing now. not officially yet, but he was the one who held you when you cried, the one who made you laugh when you forgot how to. he was everything you had wanted in someone--kind, patient, and ever so understanding. he never pushed you, never demanded anything more than you could give.

but yuuta just wasn’t him.

every now and then, the sound of inumaki’s voice would echo through your mind, sharp and clear as though he were right there with you, speaking in his usual quiet, controlled manner.

yuuta had never made you feel the way inumaki did--the way the latter made you feel alive in a way you couldn’t explain, as if your entire world spun on the axis of his touch, his voice, his presence. the problem was, with that kind of intensity, everything else felt small, insignificant. like there was only one person who mattered. and you knew damn well that it was bad to be attached to someone like this.

you had no idea which was better or worse, the fervent, intense feelings you have for inumaki, or the mild, controlled feelings you have for yuuta.

you didn’t want to feel this way. you didn’t want to keep holding onto something that was gone, especially when you had someone else who cared for you so deeply.

but the truth was, you hadn’t moved on.

and you weren’t sure if you could.

the café was a familiar place, one you often visited with a certain someone after class. it was a quiet, cozy corner spot, the kind where the baristas knew your order by heart, and where the noise of the world outside somehow felt far away.

yuuta was sitting across from you, his usual warm smile lighting up the table, but something felt different today. he was talking, his voice a soft hum in the background, but you weren’t really listening. your mind kept drifting, wandering back to that person, how you've been in this exact spot of this café with him as well.

inumaki.

it had been months since you'd last seen him face to face, but that didn't stop you from thinking about him, unfortunately. even in the arms of someone who loved you in ways that felt real, tangible.

it was horrible, you caught a glimpse of the past every single time, every single action.

"y/n?"

you blinked, returning to reality just in time to see yuuta's concerned eyes locked onto you.

"you’re doing it again."

you gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "oop, sorry, i... i was just thinking."

"about him?" yuuta asked, his voice tinged with the quiet worry he always wore when he thought something was wrong.

you hesitated, but there was no point lying, not when it was so painfully obvious. "yeah."

yuuta’s face softened, his hand reaching across the table to gently cover yours. his touch was warm, grounding, but it didn’t erase the ache inside you. "i understand. but you know... you don’t have to keep doing this to yourself."

you gently pulled your hand away and placed it on your half-empty cup, spinning it slightly so as to be subtle with the fact that you wanted to remove your hand from his. "i don’t want to hurt you, yuuta."

"you’re not," he said quietly, his voice steady. "i'm with you because i want to. but i need you to be honest with me. you’re still holding onto something, and i don’t want to be the one who’s in the way of you finding peace."

your chest tightened at his words. he was right, of course. you had to make a choice. but it wasn’t as simple as that. you couldn't just stop feeling what you felt, not when it had been a part of you for so long.

"i don't know how to let go," you said, barely audible, embarrassed about the truth that is slipping past your guard.

this was very unusual for you, they have always known you as someone who didn't talk about her feelings in this way that much, but of course, people change. inumaki was also your first boyfriend, after all. it was with him that you learned and experienced communicating your raw feelings for someone for the very first time.

yuuta’s gaze softened. he didn’t say anything more, but there was an unspoken understanding between you. you were both aware of the distance between you two, though it wasn’t something either of you could put into words.

later that day, you found yourself walking back to your place without yuuta (as per your request, of course), trying to clear your mind, but all roads seemed to lead back to him. you were walking mindlessly, when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

you pulled it out and your heart felt like it stopped when you saw who sent the message.

it was from inumaki.

“can we talk?”

"please."

your heart pounded against your chest. there was no reason to hesitate, was there? you hadn’t seen him in so long. and yet, the thought of meeting him again, of seeing him, knowing that he might still have the same hold on your heart….. it terrified the shit out of you. and of course, you also felt like a horrible person. at this point, you were definitely stringing yuuta along, even if he says it's on his own accord.

but you couldn’t ignore toge. not now. not when it felt like you were standing at the edge of something, and you didn’t know whether to step forward or pull away.

you found yourself heading to the usually isolated part of the park near jujutsu high, the place where you and inumaki used to go when you needed to talk, when words felt too hard to say. you didn't need anyone hearing toge speak too, as they might suffer from his cursed speech technique.

and alas, he was already there when you arrived, standing in the middle of the pathway, hands in his pockets, his eyes sparkling its usual shine as he looked at you. there was no need for words to be exchanged on where to meet up, now how the hell are you supposed to move on from this, right?

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you stood there, just staring at each other, as if trying to read the other’s mind.

finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but unmistakably serious. "i needed to see you."

you swallowed hard. "what's up? i didn’t think i'd hear from you again."

"i didn’t think i needed to," he replied, his words deliberate. "but i was wrong. i wanted to see you to confirm my feelings. and i was definitely wrong."

his eyes met yours, and there it was--the same pull, the same magnetic force that had always been there between the two of you.

shit.

"i never stopped thinking about you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "even after everything, even after all this time, i still--"

but he didn’t finish. he didn’t need to.

seeing you again, in person, months after everything had ended, made him realize just how much the past still had a grip on him. it felt like a hundred different emotions all rushing through him at once.

and of course, it was the same for you. everything with inumaki had unfortunately left its mark on you. heck, you don't think you will ever not see inumaki in everything that you did with yuuta.

the tension between you two thickened, palpable and heavy, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether to run or step forward.

you swallowed hard, again, you were feeling a lump in your throat tighten. “what’s this about, toge?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t think you’d actually reach out. after everything..…” you laughed, but it sounded dry.

he nodded, his lips tight as he exhaled slowly. “i’ve been thinking about you, about us. about how i handled everything.” he glanced away for a moment, like he was gathering his thoughts. “i was wrong. i hurt you. and for that… i’m sorry.”

the apology felt like a punch to the gut. you’d waited for it, for the closure that never came when you needed it most. but even now, standing in front of him, hearing those words, you didn’t know how to respond. the silence between you was filled with too much-- too many memories, too many feelings, too much regret, too much pain.

“i don’t know if we can still fix this.” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. you could feel your chest tightening, the sting of emotions welling up in your eyes.

inumaki’s hand reached up, almost hesitantly, to touch your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that felt both foreign and familiar. his touch sent a shock of warmth through you, and you had to fight the urge to close your eyes and lean into it.

"i’m sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible, yet filled with a kind of sorrow that seemed to echo through you. "i don’t think i can ever let you go."

you didn’t speak. you couldn’t. the words were trapped in your throat, fighting for air. your body wanted to move on its own now, drawn to him in ways that made no sense but felt so right.

however, you remembered the late nights spent arguing--heated words, voices raised in frustration, things said in the heat of the moment that neither of you couldn’t take back. you remembered how inumaki, normally such a breath of fresh air, a comedian, even, had become so distant, every after fight, shutting himself off from you entirely. how you had tried to reach him, tried to understand. but it wasn’t just silence that tore you apart; it was the coldness, the way it felt like he stopped trying. you felt like a stranger next to him, like you were invisible in the relationship you once thought was built on trust.

but fuck, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you wanted to move on for the sake of yuuta and your present life, inumaki still had a hold on you.

there was a long silence between you then, a tension that neither of you knew how to relieve. you could feel the pull between you, the same intensity that had defined your relationship. and yet, you knew that this wasn’t the same as before. the walls were too high, the wounds a bit too deep.

you thought of yuuta--his kindness, his patience, the way he had been there for you without asking for anything in return. his love felt real, soft, comforting, and yet…... standing here with inumaki, it was like you were still that same person who had once been consumed by him, caught up in the intensity, the fire of your past relationship.

you couldn’t just deny it. you still loved him, in some way, but that didn’t mean you could just fall back into your old rhythm after everything that happened between you two, and without considering what you have with yuuta now.

you unknowingly clenched your fists at your sides, trying to steady yourself. you’re with yuuta now. the thought of his name grounded you, made you stand a little straighter. the memories with inumaki were heavy, but yuuta was the one who had been there, who had helped you pick up the pieces of your broken self. he was patient with your silences, never pushing you to forget but always giving you the space to heal. and though you couldn’t yet call what you have with him "official", it felt like something real, something worth holding onto.

“i’m with yuuta now,” you said quietly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue as you said them out loud.

inumaki's eyes faltered with sadness, and for a second, you saw the vulnerability in him that had always been there, buried beneath the surface. his lips pressed into a thin line. he didn’t say anything for a long moment, but you could see the conflict in his eyes. he wanted to say something more, to change your mind, but he didn’t. he didn't think he have the right to do so.

“i know and i understand,” he finally murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions. “i just… i wanted you to know that i never stopped caring about you. it's quite selfish, i'm sorry, i know. but that’s all, i don't want anymore regrets.”

your heart raced, a mix of guilt and longing pooling in your chest. what did this mean for you? for yuuta?

you took a shaky breath, "i need time to think about this. i'll get going first."

your thoughts were in a fucking whirlwind. you could already feel the weight of making a decision pressing down on you. no matter how much you tried to push inumaki out of your mind, no matter how much you wanted to stay true with yuuta, a part of you knew that your past with inumaki wasn’t something you could just leave behind.

and so, as you turned to leave, the question lingered in the air, unanswered and uncertain.

[nebbyy]

King Baldwin IV x reader - I’ll be waiting for you

A/N: Well, how could I not make another fic for King Baldwin when the other one I made is my most liked post yet, so I decided to write this little pieceee. Sooo I guess I should warn y'all that this one will be a little less historically accurate (not that the first one was that great of a historical piece but you get the idea). Oh and as usual, this fic came into my mind the moment I saw the painting just below (which is "the Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets Over the Dead Bodies of Romeo andJuliet" by sir Frederic Leighton)Now enough chatting, more King Baldwin brainrot. 

Summary: in a desperate attempt to protect his kingdom after having punished Reynald de Chatillon, the king is exhausted and the long ride has increasingly worsened his already wary condition. Once he’s escorted back to the palace, his loving wife wastes no time to reunite with her beloved husband.

Warnings: kinda angsty (no happy ending tbh), vague descriptions of Baldwin’s illness related wounds. Also, reader specifically described as female.

Word count: 3209

You sat on your throne, high and proud like the royalty you were. But under the facade of your noble confidence, you felt small. Smaller than ever, actually, as the yelling of all the men in front of you filled the air and rose up to the open sky. With a simple, reckless act, Reynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan had just screwed years of efforts that King Baldwin had spent trying to maintain that delicate peace that required so many lives and time to build. All washed away from the raging river that were Reynald and Guy. 

While the two men tried to defend their senseless attack, backed by a substantial group of men, another opposing group shouted at them, berating them for the offense they had given not only to Saladin but also to Jerusalem itself.

You sigh, fighting the urge to cover your ears, and curl into your own body; you opt to just turn your head and look at your beloved husband. He looked to be in a similar state as you were: although his face was now fully covered -a means of hiding the decaying state of his leprosy-ridden body- his head was bent with weary alertness, like a hawk watching its prey from a distance. You watched his body, languidly seated on his much larger throne, the only sitting position that brought him no discomfort, though it looked almost more like he was about to lie down. 

It broke your heart to see how that disease had ravaged Baldwin's body, in recent years more and more. To see him there, on the same throne on which he once sat tall and proud, while now he barely had the strength to stay upright. And you knew he was thinking the very same thing.

You were about to open your mouth, whisper something to him, anything, in order to shake him out of his thoughts and that chaotic situation, but you were interrupted in your actions by an official, who rushed to the king's side, handing him a scroll. His bandaged hands clumsily opened the scroll, and you found salvation from the noise of the room by concentrating on watching Baldwin read carefully. You watched his eyes, blue as the sky and like the waves of the sea that brought you to the Holy Land, now covered with a pale glassy glaze. 

You frowned when you heard Baldwin freeze in place, even his sitting became more erect, as if a cube of ice had slid down his back. With his gaze still fixed on the words written in that letter, he merely raised his hand slightly, a clear sign of his will.

"SILENCE!" his guard's shout resounded through the hall, overpowering the furious shouts of the men who had been barking at each other for hours now. They all turned to look at the king; their faces, a few moments ago darkened and wrinkled with anger, were now smooth and relaxed, their eyebrows raised in astonishment at their king's order. Funny, you thought, how these men because of your husband's condition sometimes simply forget how much power he possessed over them. Before it was as if he wasn't even in the room, and they were all playing at being great leaders, now there they were, staring at him, motionless as statues, submissive as ants. You curled your nose discreetly, your face a mixture of disgust and contempt. Pathetic, you thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, Baldwin finally looked up at the crowd in front of him, finally revealing what it was that had shocked him so much. "Saladin has crossed the Jordan with 200000 men," silence fell, and you felt your body going numb. Your ears seemed muffled, you could barely perceive what was happening around you. At that moment you felt so much fear for your kingdom, and concern for Baldwin and what this impending attack would cost him.

And anger, against those two fools who out of sheer vanity had endangered the lives of all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They had put Jerusalem itself at risk; they had put Baldwin at risk.

I was brought to attention by Baldwin, who was struggling to pull himself up from his throne, walking toward his most trusted man. "We must meet him before he reaches Kerak. I will lead the army," your husband's voice was hushed and soft, so that only the man in front of him could hear. But it did not escape your ears, the implication those words had: Baldwin wants to stop Saladin, and he wants to do it himself. But this could cost him his life. 

You couldn't stop yourself; you jumped up from your seat, eyes wide in an expression somewhere between fear and surprise. Baldwin turned to look at you, the woman who always took his breath away at the mere sight of how beautiful she was. You did not fail to have that effect on him again this time, but not because of your beauty: in your eyes he saw your terror, that this was the last time you would see him alive. They hypnotized him, and begged him in a silent prayer not to leave, to give up this plan, have an ambassador sent, anyone else. Hell, let him send Guy himself to intercept the Saracen, let him be beheaded and his murder settle the account that he himself opened. But the storm of emotion in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotion flowing from your eyes

But the storm of emotions in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotions flowing from Baldwin's eyes, barely visible because of the cover concealing his tortured face. He too, through them, was silently pleading with you: but he was asking you to trust, to let go and follow his plan, to try to forget for at least a moment all the warnings the Physicians had given him over the years.

Eventually, you relented, turning your gaze away and opting to stare at a random spot in the corner of the room. Baldwin gave a silent sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, a sign of gratitude, although you could not see it. He turned to the men of his court, and with the little strength his body afforded him, he spoke in a loud, determined voice: "Assemble the army and protect the city."

All this reminded you of the last time Baldwin fought Saladin: he had barely completed his seventeenth year, and young and still full of life, he was ready to ride against the invincible Saracen king. But on that day God had been more merciful. He had granted you, if nothing else, one last night to spend with your husband, had given you the gift of a minimum of time to ensure that you bid Baldwin a proper farewell before he met what could well have been his end. Instead this time, you barely had time to briefly remove the thick veil from his face to give him a fleeting kiss and exchange a handful of words. You fought back the tears as you looked at him, opting instead to bring your hand to his cheek, the flesh of his lip having receded and decayed to such an extent that it had receded down to his cheek, eventually turning into a long scar that protruded down to his cheekbone.

"Let me go with you, I will wait for you at the castle of Reynald de Chatillon-" "No. It is too dangerous. If things go wrong with the negotiations, I don't want you or my sisters anywhere near that man." It was not often that Baldwin interrupted you while you were speaking. He respected you too much to not allow you to finish your sentences, so the fact that he did just now spoke of how important this was to him. 

"Then promise me you’ll come back to me. Safe and sound." He snorted softly, giving a hint of smile before copping his face with his hardened hands, "You know I can’t promise it." You know that, but that blatant honesty of his, which you always loved so much, was not what you wanted at the time. No, you wanted reassurance, no matter how truthful, no matter how worthless his promises may be at the end of the day, You need that fleeting distraction that mitigates the fear that’s been eating you from the inside since Baldwin put on his armor. May you risked never seeing him again.

"Please just say it." Your voice came out much softer than you meant, almost less than a whisper, perhaps because of the knot in your throat, which threatened to break free carrying a river of tears. For a moment he remained silent, turning suddenly his face towards the voice of a nobleman who called him from the entrance of his room, but did not even dignify him with an answer. After all, his attention was completely turned to his world. To you. Before I answered you, I drew your head to his with my hands, so that I could place his forehead against yours. Finally, he spoke softly, in that loving tone that he reserved only for you: "Then I promise you that I will return to you in no more than three days, and when I return I will be victorious, and I will be riding."

After that, that moment between the two of you, which so much looked like a heartbreaking farewell, lasted just before Baldwin had to go to his horse to guide his men to the enemy.

And it wasn’t long before the harsh reality became clear to you: he had lied to you. Not maliciously, of course, you were the one who begged him to say those words after all. But the fact is that three days became four, that news of the army of Jerusalem had not come any more, that the last thing you heard of your husband was that only the ride had already tried his weakened body.

Another day passed, then another, and at the dawn of the fourth day since his absence you felt your heart sink. Had something happened to him? Had the negotiations failed? What if his illness had suddenly got the better of him? Or worse, Saladin and his men had shot him, stabbed him, or yet again captured and publicly executed,…

Your mind began to spiral into an ocean of possible reasons behind this delay, and you swore that your breathing had finally stopped once and for all when a messenger on horseback arrived at the palace, frantically dismounting from his steed to rush into the throne room and bring you the message: "The negotiations were successful, but the king is in critical condition! He is returning to Jerusalem on a canopy," you dismissed the man with a slight wave of your hand, so weak that you almost looked numbed; Baldwin's advisors began to chatter, but the background murmur of their murmurs did not seem to reach your ears. No, your attention was elsewhere; it was entirely on your husband.

You took your leave of the court, hurrying to your rooms. There, like a hawk waiting impatiently for prey to feed on, you perched on the balcony overlooking the city below you, on the walls from which not many days ago Baldwin had emerged leading the army.

It was there that you began to think again, this time with a clearer mind as you knew that at least Baldwin was alive and on his way home. On his way to you. Still, this whole situation reminded you of when you were only sixteen years old, and you stood on that balcony as you do now, waiting to see Baldwin return on his horse. And on that day, when he was visible to the naked eye, and your eyes met, you saw all the life and strength of one who had just defeated the greatest enemy of his time. At that moment, he seemed almost immortal to you: he looked like a god riding proudly, leading the thousands of men behind him towards their home.

How unfair fate is, to cut short his life so early. His physicians gave him no more than thirty years, but that time seemed to you to be shortened even more when you finally caught sight of his canopy. There he lay, sprawled and motionless like a dead body, surrounded by the soft cushions and riders on either side of his transport.

Just two years ago such a journey would not have fatigued him in the least; now he was risking his life just by riding a horse. Your eyes threatened to fill with tears thinking about how much he had loved riding a horse, and now he found himself bedridden, unable in his passions. You wasted no time running through the palace corridors, eager to reach your beloved as soon as possible.

One turn to the right, then another, then down the steps, and finally straight to the palace doors, where the finely decorated canopy led the love of your life.

You rushed to his side, gently taking his mutilated hand in yours while the other stroked his masked face. He breathed faintly, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his strength after his disease had dealt him this last bludgeon. Feeling your gentle touch, Baldwin's eyes fluttered open, his glassy eyes the color of heaven meeting yours.

"You've been reckless, my love. Putting your life at risk just to do the job of a messenger!" you scolded him, but Baldwin only smiled fondly at your words. "I promised you I would've come back. And that I did, alive too." Although his voice was so weak that it sounded more like a huff of air rather than a sentence, its tone was still laced with playfulness.

It made you unable to resist the smile that was threatening to form on your lips; you did not grace him with an answer yet, opting instead to move your hand to remove the silver mask from his face. You could see his surprised and relieved expression, as he was now finally able to breathe more freely and to look at you properly. He breathed in the sight of you, almost as if trying to take in as much of you as he could. "I can't tell if it's the travel or the sight of you that takes my breath away."

You just smiled bitterly and shook your head at his silly declarations, "It must be the ride, it has tired you so much that it's making you speak nonsense." he giggled weakly, much more tiredly this time, almost as if he was about to doze off. But he fought the tiredness nonetheless, opting to just shake his head and admire you with a lovestruck look. "Maybe I am hallucinating, I think I'm seeing heaven above me."

It was supposed to be a compliment that would've made you giggle and blush, like the ones that he showered you with daily. But instead, it made your heart clench at the bare idea of it. The idea that this would be his last moments before the energies spent for this expedition would be too much for him to handle, and God will reclaim his most virtuous man. It made your throat tighten, and your lower lip tremble.

You tried to hide your troubled state, moving your hand quickly to the curve of his neck. There, you placed a soft, butterfly-like kiss on the little places of skin that haven't been mutilated and bloodied by the leprosy. You kissed him one more time, then another, and another again..

In the end, you lost count of how many kisses you had given him, in a desperate attempt to mend your premature grief, to ground yourself in the feeling that Baldwin is there. He is alive. Yet the feeling of his skin against yours, of his chest rising up and down and his arms weakly holding your soft body, it wasn't enough to stop the tears to start flowing down your cheeks.

And that didn't go unnoticed to Baldwin, who mustered all his strength left to hold you just a little tighter. "Have my words upset you?" you sniffled, trying to recollect yourself before lifting your head to look into his eyes. "No, my dear, you could never. I just-" you stopped for a second, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat, "promise me this is the last time. Please, tell me that you will stop this nonsense. Let your trusted men handle these matters, command your man like a king not a general!" your hands had moved to his arms, a gesture to both ground yourself and to accentuate just how desperate you were in that moment, only wanting him to just listen.

"I beg of you, my love, stay here. Where you can rest. We both know that you don't have much more time left to live, so stop doing everything in your power to shorten it anymore." A sob slipped from your mouth at the last part. It truly astonished you how careless he seemed about his own condition, almost as if he forgot that any move could be the death of him.

He frowned and sighed at your words, squeezing your forearms softly before he spoke softly. This time though his tone was clearer, less weakened by the outcomes of the past days. "I already spoke to the physician about this: I have no choice, my angel. I'll be bound to my bed until a miracle will better my condition, or until death will take me."

You shut your eyes in relief, resting your forehead against his and sighing shakily, trying to recompose yourself. "I can't live in a world without you.."

"God will give us more time. I promise I won't leave you as long as I breathe on this earth. And. when my time will be over and there will be no future for us in this life, I'll be waiting for you in heaven, if I'll be granted the blessing of a place next to you there."

Not too long after, the physicians that Saladin had promised him arrived at the palace, and you were assisted as they tended to Baldwin's many wounds caused by his sickness. More than the sight of the gruesome pieces of open flesh, what appalled you was just how numb his body had become, so much so that he did not even feel their hands and tools working into his skin. It made you wonder wether or not he even felt your kisses from before.

And you make yourself that same question months later, when you place one last kiss into his forehead as he slept soundly before going to bed yourself, only to wake up to a cold body beside you. You wonder if he ever got to feel that last gesture of love before God had finally claimed him.

You only found solace in the thought that Baldwin would be resting in the realms of heaven above your head, contrary to what the Saracens believe.

A/N: Wowww this gets more fun by the day!! King Baldwin will probably always be my favorite character to write for. He’s my muse. As always ill be waiting for your feedbacks!!!

Oh and also, be prepared in the future for more fics waiting to be posted, I’ve got about ten that are just waiting for the right time to come to light, and many more will come in the future since I’m really finding it therapeutic to write.

[engiebabey]

I yearn for cg medic content

Please 🙏

:3

baby's first ask!!! every1 always focuses on medic's literal medical aspects of his traits, but i like to think of him as a soft little nerd so here's some hc i have !! (+ a little blurb at the end expanding on one of them)

warnings: mention of an autopsy, mentions of bones, use of "papa"

this is so long btw i got carried away

despite a lot of hcs i see that medic is a huge poor meow meow, i do actually think he is more on the stern side when it comes to being a cg!

has rules for you to follow, and if you're a little older in your regression (4+) he may expect you to be able to clean up toys, use manners, etc.

likes to be called papa (because he is german) but if you don't like that then he also enjoys being called "doctor"

tbh i think he cares more about you getting not hurt for the emotional aspect instead of the physical. he knows he could heal you up with the medigun whenever he wants, he just doesn't need his baby to feel the pain if he can prevent it

reads so many books (this man is a huge dweeb ik) and really likes relaxing by sitting you on his lap and reading stories to you. will do all the funny voices, too

very into touching your face?? since so much of his life is spent focusing on other's body parts i think he's grown to love the features of those he adores because he's able to study them

will let you color in old reports and pictures of x-rays/autopsies he's done (censored, of course) and has a special folder for them

very big teacher. will teach you your own bone names, how many you have, and if you're on the older side he may even attempt to teach you cpr or quiz you on the things he teaches. he thinks it's important to know your body.

he knows he is very busy :( so he has a special corner in the medbay for you! little table for you to sit at, a crib if you're extra tiny, a bookshelf and everything! i imagine it's a bit like the kiddie corners they have at libraries for those who want to read and relax

does not trust a lot of the other mercs to babysit for you (because he has a lot to do and can't always watch you). engineer and heavy are the only main ones, though he does surprisingly trust spy enough to keep an eye on you

speaking of which, NO SCOUT !! he gets so worried about you so easily that he has a silly rule that scout can only hang with you if there is at least one responsible adult around

will play toys with you, and actually prefers it! he thinks that the engagement is nice and spending time with you in a way you enjoy is important to him.

huge on physical touch. he doesn't really like wearing his gloves when he touches you because it makes him feel disconnected from you, like you're a patient. will do the old man thing where he pinches your cheeks and pretends to eat you

lets you sit on his lap whenever he's just doing paperwork or hanging out. surprisingly clingy toward you but its cute!

little blurb i wanted to write about the teaching thing bc im so insane about it actually

warnings: mentions of bones, use of "papa"

"Alright, liebling. Now, do you remember how many bones are in that tiny body of yours?" Medic asks, poking a finger at your tummy. You giggle, looking upwards as you think.

"Two hundred.. two hundred and..." you trail off, unable to remember. You frown for a second. What did Papa tell you last time?

Smiling, he leans over from his sitting spot to whisper in your ear. "Two hundred six!" you shout, proud of yourself for giving the right answer, even if he helped.

"Very good, schatz!" he claps for you, your face breaking into a grin. Medic pulls out a piece of paper from behind him, and a pack of crayons. You squeal as he sets them down in front of you.

"Let's play a game," he starts. "Papa will point out a part of this body, and if you get it right, you may color it in. How does that sound?" When you nod frantically in response, he leads his finger to a part on the bottom half. "What's this?"

"Leg." you smile and grab a green crayon, excited to win your game.

divider by @aquazero, banner by me!

[omegastation]

Mass Effect Andromeda Appreciation Week starts today!!!  \o/

For my first post, I wanted to talk about all the main things I like about the game. (I'm not comparing with the trilogy btw, some elements here are found in all games and I love the trilogy very much with all my heart!)

Ryder, the protagonist: I love that Ryder has everything to prove and that we get to build experience with them. 

The sheer beauty of the game, I mean. It's so pretty I could pick a million screencaps, all of them gorgeous, but the map makes me very happy:

The feeling that everything is happening all at once everywhere: It can be a bit too much sometimes (especially when I'm working on transcripts) but I really like that people are talking everywhere, that you can start many dialogues, that you get to hear or see something new when you turn a corner

Exploring is fun: I think the feeling that a lot is happening brings excitement, which in turns makes me feel a lot of joy when I play the game. I'm like a kid at Christmas tbh. And the jumping haha, we get to jump a lot!

The characters: I'm excited to talk to people wherever I go. I'm so excited I have a crush on NPCs. Have you ever heard about OREV, MY SNIPER FROM VOELD????? I also think, in all honesty, that MEA has a way to show when characters should be taken seriously and when we can laugh at the absurdity of it all. Addison and Tann are good examples.

Special shout-out to SAM who is an incredible character despite not having a full mobile platform and being mostly a voice to us. 

The new species (Angara and Kett): I love their design, their language, and their history. Every time I see a member of each species, I think about their beauty and how, there's something really profound about them. I don't know, it's a feeling I carry the entire game. The history bringing it all together also brings with it the full tragedy of it all.

My beloved krogan are THRIVING and we get to witness their colony, in all its glory!!!!!!!!!!!!

The books it gave us: They're excellent. I'll make a separate post about them. 

Sloane: If you know me, you know my love for her.

The voice acting: I think the VAs for Ryder are good but playing Scott Ryder, I have a soft spot for Tom Taylorson. And we're lucky to have the rest of the cast. Still amazed by our celebrity VAs too: Clancy Brown???? Natalie Dormer???? Kumail Nanjiani???? THE INCREDIBLE Indira Varma????????

There are so many more things I could add but the post would get too long. Anyway, I love you MEA. Thank you for being you!

[mins-fins]

all flights are delayed !

"i like to call myself a pretty man connoisseur.."

synopsis: your sad to say it, but you don't have much going on in your life. you have a very time consuming major, just a few friends, barely any time to go out, and spend most of your free time either a: working, or b: sleeping. so for once, when you finally have the friday off, and your dragged off to go watch a football game between a rival school of yours, you really do wish you were anywhere else. somehow though, it turns out to be one of the best things to happen to you, because a charming oreo–haired musical theater major from your rival school just happens to saunter his way into your life, you didn't expect to fall in love in your junior year, but your also not complaining!

pairing: xiao dejun x male!reader

genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers, musical theater major!xiaojun x health science major!reader, fluff, like the lightest of angst, lowkey fast burn 😖

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing(?), gay people, a little miscommunication, reader having a crisis over oreo xiaojun, probably a lot of repetitive phrases, huang guanheng is EVERYWHERE

word count: 12.8k

notes: OKAAAAAAAY hello! now in the beginning i really did enjoy writing this but after like the fourth scene its all so disgusting and jumbled up but i am also very proud of myself because this is the longest ever fic i have ever written (it is all xiao dejuns fault), actually it is ALL of nct's fault because why do i have a bunch of 8k word fics of so many nct members..😢 anyway if this seems any rushed or makes absolutely no sense at times its because im tired and i worked extra today but it doesn't really matter because constructive criticism is good (i shouldn't even publish this tbh) but there is a first for everything! enjoy!

YOU'VE NEVER BEEN A FOOTBALL FAN. now you know that might be a little of a sour opinion, especially to the men in your family, but it's just never been a sport you enjoy. it is just a little fun to watch, especially when drunk, because the sight of men in tight ass clothes running around a field chasing a ball is possibly one of the funniest things you think your drunk mind has ever seen. which is why now— in the stands, listening to the loud shouts and screams from your schoolmates, and rival scholars, you feel as if your ears have just been popped.

after all the days of working, and doing nothing but schoolwork, you were glad to have the rest of the friday off. there was nothing else you wanted to do but put on an oversized sweater, make a bowl of ramen and rewatch gossip girl for the seventy fifth time already (yes, you keep count), but no— guanheng decided he was going to drag you out of the dorm to watch stupid football game, one about "school spirit" or whatever, you weren't paying attention to him when he decided to go on his ramble, and now he's abandoned you once again! probably off to go talk to one of his 1000 other friends or something.

you almost consider leaving, but then you witness the amount of people you'd have to maneuver through, the amount of excuse me's you'd have to utter, the amount of pushing you'd endure as you tried to make your way through the crowded stands, besides, you can't leave without guanheng, your pretty much the only person responsible for keeping him alive at this point.

so you somehow suck it up and manage to stick around. your ears are practically on fire right now, and you desperately want to take off your shoes because of how they are poking you at the moment. you almost feel like your being pressed together by all the people in the stands, as if walls are slowly pushing in and crushing every single bone in your body.

"that team is doing horribly.." you mutter to yourself in an attempt to calm your crazy mind.

"i know, we suck".

at first you think you've made up the voice, because in the past hour and a half all you've heard is shouting, cheering, and loud music blasting on your ears, no one has made any attempt to talk to you since guanheng up and left you alone in the stands, so the response almost seems like muddled up words created by your brain as a response—

but it's not.

someone actually did respond to you, and in a split second there is a completely new person standing beside you, also observing the game but not looking as pleased to be there. when you do glance to your left, you come across possibly the most beautiful boy— no, person, you come across the most beautiful person you think you've ever seen in your twenty years of living, for once it feels like everything stops.

you are not the kind of person that just.. does that. now you've met tons of pretty people, you've met so many people that you could definitely say are so beautiful they could be displayed in a museum as an art exhibit, but never in your twenty years of living have you ever seen yourself go silent at the sight of a beautiful person— your brain feels like it's malfunctioning, you're not exactly sure what to say, you open your mouth but no words come out, and you almost consider punching yourself because you probably look like a complete idiot right now.

"oh? you don't go here?"

that's what you decided to say? of all things you could've said, of course he doesn't go to your school, he just implied that the other team belonged to his school, why would that be the best thing to say out of everything else?

the stranger looks up, then he laughs, and your not sure how you keep your composure. "oh no, i go to vixsith" he replies, using his thumb to point backward, though he's not pointing at anything in specific, just pointing to point. you're not sure why you pick up on that, or why you're even watching where his hands are going anyway.

"your insulting your own team?" you inquire, and he laughs even harder at your question, covering his mouth with his hand. "this is about school spirit, have faith in them" you joke, and all he does is continue laughing, crossing his arms as he tries his best to calm himself down.

"i'm being honest, the only person on that team who knows how to play is mark, he deserves better" he remarks, eyes focused on the player he just named. he then seems to have a random realization and turns to you once again. "i'm dejun by the way" he holds out his hand for you to take, and you just blink at it like an idiot, before coming back to your senses and quickly shaking his head.

"y/n".

at the sound of your name, he seems to have yet another realization. he points at you and narrows his eyes. "we have a mutual friend don't we?"

at the question, you narrow your eyes, cogs turn in your brain as you think about who he could possibly be referring to, then it comes to you—

"guanheng".

the two of you say his name in unison, and the two of you both try to stifle your laughs as the realization dawns on you. "he knows everyone i swear" you mutter, and dejun snorts, looking away from you to laugh. "even from other schools.."

"oh we go way back" dejun responds, moving his hair out of his face. "middle school actually" he adds, and your eyes widen, as if your shocked, of course guanheng has friends from way back when, why are you surprised?

you don't feel as surprised as you do lucky..

"was he still as inhumanely flexible as he is now?"

dejun laughs again, he does that a lot. "yes, yes he was".

"he talks about you a lot.. you know" dejun comments out of the blue, tucking his hair behind his ear. "he basically lives with us, and if he's not sleeping over we always assume he's with you".

"oh so that's why he always just.. appears and disappears.."

"yeah that's kind of his thing" dejun scrunches his face, looking bored by the lack of action happening on the field. "i can never find him unless he directly comes to me first" he doesn't look at you as he says those words, but you're very much staring at him the whole time.

you almost feel like a creep in a way, you want to punch yourself in the face again for continuing to stare at him. you blink a couple times before turning your face away, trying to correctly articulate your thoughts.

"both teams suck".

you only say those words because you want him to continue talking, you want to hear him talk, it's nothing that crazy, having a conversation with him is just so intriguing to you for some reason..

"well yeah— but you guys get more training so you have an advantage" he comments, narrowing his eyes at the field, arms crossed over his chest. "the guys on our team have no idea what their doing".

"do you like football?" you ask, not sure why your so interested in his answer, you just are, you have no explanation for your sudden intrigue of this charming oreo–haired boy that goes to your rival school.

your much too distracted by how gorgeous he is to worry about giving yourself an explanation.

dejun laughs again, shaking his head. "not really, my dad does, so i just know things because of all his screaming and shouting" he replies, arms still crossed over his chest. "i'm not really a sports person, i do musical theater for pete's sake".

"oh so you sing?" you don't mean to ask another question, you're worried that you might be bothering dejun with your constant inquiries, but he actually seems glad, excited that someone is asking him about his major.

"well yeah" he responds, his smile growing. "all things theater, i write the songs, i act the parts, i play instruments, sometimes i even take offstage roles instead of my usual onstage ones".

he fiddles with his fingers, picking his nails. you assume, from his mannerisms, that he doesn't know what to say because most people don't really ask him about his major, or what he does, it's like he's elated that you even asked him.

"what about you?" dejun instead asks, veering away from the topic of his major and instead making yours the main topic of discussion. "what do you do?"

"health science" you say the words as if it pains you to, like it's the single most uninteresting thing you've said this whole interaction. "i know, it's boring".

dejun laughs again; "no no! i didn't say that!" he waves his hands in a disagreeing manner as he chuckles at your words. "i just don't meet a lot of people interested in pursuing science.."

"it's more of the health aspect than science actually" you mutter, and dejun just looks even more interested in what you have to say now. "but science is a big part of it so.."

"you must be very smart then" dejun remarks, smiling as the two of you make eye contact.

"i'm alright" you just say, finally pulling down your formerly rolled up sweater sleeves now that the air outside has begun cooling down. you only lightly shiver, and you glance back at dejun one more time..

"where do you think guanheng is?" he asks, clearing his throat as he scours the still full and lively bleachers, searching for your friend. "off doing whatever he does.."

you're currently very distracted, and you don't even realize what's going on when you snap out of whatever daze you were having and everyone is suddenly standing up and cheering like there's no tomorrow.

dejun looks over at you, and he can clearly see how confused you are because he laughs for one last time. "you guys won!" he somehow manages his voice over the roar of the crowd. "congrats!"

he's yelling, but he's not exactly loud, he still manages to sound so gentle whilst yelling at you.

"thanks!" you blurt out as a reply, and you feel like a complete idiot for that, but dejun smiles, so you don't feel all that embarrassed.

the game is over, and people are going to start to leave soon. dejun looks back, spotting a group he recognizes, then he looks over at you, a smile on his face. "i've gotta go now" he says, almost disappointed in a sense. "it was nice meeting you y/n!"

you nod, not knowing what to say. "yeah! you too!"

you too? you too?? is that what you say y/n!?

dejun gives one more beautiful smile before heading off, and you blink, having absolutely no idea what just transpired in those few minutes.

holy shit i forgot to ask—

but you couldn't— because he was gone, gone in such a flash you couldn't even spot his oreo hair in the crowd.

YOU FORGOT TO ASK FOR HIS NUMBER. YOU FEEL SO STUPID, your not even sure why you wanted to ask him that, but in the back of your mind that was the question you were preparing yourself to ask from the moment he told you his name, that he was friends with guanheng, the moment the two of you began laughing about your majors and stuff like that. the whole interaction with a pretty oreo–haired musical theater major at a football game is all that you were thinking about last night, as you tried to find pretty much anything else to think about as you struggled to sleep.

how did you forget to ask him for his number? you want to smash your face into your computer screen because of how stupid you are. you said "you too!" like a fucking idiot, but maybe you were just too distracted, he was smiling at you with that beautiful smile and staring at you with his absolutely gorgeous fucking eyes, how could you even think coherently whilst a beautiful man (from a whole other school but who cares?) was staring at you with his pretty brown eyes like you were the only person in the world?

okay your pushing it now..

but there is just something, something about him that drew you in, your not sure why you were so adamant on getting to know him, but he was just so— you can't explain it right now! you are currently very sleep deprived and also moody because of your disappearing roommate that always decides to appear at the worst times.

you don't remember the last time you ever got an actual eight hours of sleep, these days that seems like a dream more than a reality, but guangheng is just never tired. he's somehow always up, doing something, hanging out with people, he never sits down in once place and just stays still.

when he walks into the room, hands on his hips and gaze immediately focused on you, you barely bat an eye at him, just spare him a quick glance, noticing how pissed off he looks. you scour your mind for an explanation as to why he must be mad now, probably something someone said, or he got into yet another argument with one of his classmates, your not even sure anymore, you don't know where he is half the time.

"could you do me a favor?"

you almost laugh out loud, not at him, but at the idea that he wanted you to do him a favor. at this point, he probably owes you thousands of favors considering how many you do for him, but he seems upset, and you don't have any of that pettiness leftover to ignore him, so you move your eyes to look over at him.

"why should i?"

okay— you lied, your still just a little petty, but you totally have every right to be! guanheng deserves just some sass from you after disappearing each and every time he decides to take you out somewhere.

guanheng blinks, then he pulls out the signature guanheng frown, a sad stupid frown he always makes when he wants to persuade you into doing something. you're not sure how you've even ever fallen for that signature frown, maybe it's because he's just so great at looking sad, at looking upset, he somehow always manages to make you feel bad for him, and therefore, end up doing the favor for him.

"because i'm your best friend, your roommate, and you love me so much" guanheng smiles wide, like he just found out he won the lottery, and clasps his hands together as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

"i don't know.." you mumble, looking back at your computer screen. it's a saturday, you have no classes saturday, you can just sit down, relax, be the absolute lazy motherfucker you were put on this earth to be. "i don't feel like going out today".

guanheng huffs, crossing his arms. "one last favor! just one! then i'll get off your back!"

"your horrible at following your promises, heng" you comment absentmindedly, your tone is much meaner than you intended, and guanheng's gasp is enough to tell you that he indeed takes offense to those words. "what? i'm not lying".

"y/n!" oh great, he's whining now. "i will get you anything i can, anything! just this one favor! please?"

your about to say no again— but then it's like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you get a spectacular idea. anything? he did say anything, and he can give you something you want.

the number of a pretty boy preferably!

you let out a sigh, and guanheng knows what that sigh means, it means you agree. "fine, i'll do you this favor, but this is the last one".

guanheng's smile brightens, and he cheers like a kid that just got the best christmas present one can receive. "thank you! thank you! thank you! i love you!" he kisses your cheek, and skips off to another room.

"get your jacket!" he shouts, already rooms away from you, so he has to shout.

"what?"

"get your jacket! were leaving!"

you furrow your eyebrows at his words, but you don't say anymore, because you did agree to do this favor for him after all.

so, without questioning it more, you get up and go grab your jacket.

"SO WHEN YOU SAID A FAVOR..?" you don't continue on with your sentence, pausing to let out a breath as you shove your hands into the pockets of your jackets. guanheng looks over at you, and he just chuckles at the unreadable expression on your face. when you agreed to do this favor for him, you didn't know it included leaving your dorm and having to be dragged out to yet another unfamiliar place. "did you forget to mention the fact that we'd have to leave the school?" you finally finish, eyes focused and narrowed on your friend, who again, smiles at you with that signature guanheng smile.

"it's a saturday, most of us don't have classes anyway, they won't question it".

"is that supposed to make me feel better?" you ask to yourself more than to guanheng, but he hears you anyway, and that results in a snicker from him. despite that, he doesn't respond to your silent question, making you frown just the slightest.

"stop pouting".

"i'm not pouting" your quick to rebut, rolling your eyes at his words. you almost bump into him when he suddenly stops, and your about to yell at him again for being stupid when he places a finger on your mouth.

he knocks on the door in front of him, not paying attention to the burning glare your currently sending him.

"i'll bite off your finger" you threaten, moving forward and pretending your about to do that. guanheng squeaks and quickly moves his fingers away from your lips, a flash of true fear in his eyes. all you do is give him a menacing and totally not threatening smile.

"psycho.." he whispers, he looks like he's about to say more, but the door opens, so he closes his mouth and turns around.

"come on!"

he grabs your wrist and drags you into the dorm, and you felt your heart rate increase. maybe he knew these people, but you sure didn't! what if they thought you were weird? you want to pull him back and tell him that he shouldn't just drag you into some strangers dorm, but he is much too distracted to even notice your uneasiness.

"i've returned!" guanheng yells, letting go of your hand to place his hands on his hips, as if he was proud of himself.

"can you slam the door on him!?"

"ten! come to me!"

before you can ask him what the hell is going on, he sprints down the hallway, you assume to go after this ten person, you just blink, shoving your hands into your pockets as you begin to rock back and forth on your heels.

"hello stranger!" an unfamiliar voice exclaims, you look up and come face to face with a pink–haired boy with a bright smile.

"hello" you reply politely. "i like your hair" you immediately remark, pointing at his hair like an idiot because you don't want to touch it and make him uncomfortable.

his face lights up, as if you were a millionaire that just gifted him a life changing amount of money. it was as if no one ever told him that his hair was pretty before, or that they liked it. he jumps up and squeals, excited. "thank you! ten said it was stupid!"

you furrow your eyebrows, then chuckle. "what? no it's very pretty, pink suits you!"

"hah! i told you guanheng! pink does suit me!" he yells down the hall, and you can hear the small shout of rebuttal that guanheng responds with from all the way down the hall. "thanks! only a few people actually noticed that i dyed my hair".

you laugh again, okay he is very funny, you like him!

"oh! i'm yangyang! the nicest person who lives here!" he introduces himself in the same fashion a reality tv star would, and quickly grabs your hand to shake it. you don't complain, just laugh again as he vigorously shakes your hand.

"y/n, it's nice to meet you".

he gasps, recognizing your name. "oh you're the famous y/n! guanheng always talks about you, for a long time i was convinced he was in love with you!"

"why are you tarnishing my brand!?" guanheng shouts again, sounding even more pissed off than he did before. "huh!? liu yangyang!?"

yangyang shakes his head, ignoring guanheng's loud shouts and flapping his hand, mocking him. you laugh as you watch him mock the other, who has absolutely no idea what he's doing right now.

"you have a project to do!" another unfamiliar voice shouts.

yangyang gasps again, suddenly looking stressed. "fuck yeah— um!" he turns around and reaches over to grab his laptop, then he turns back to you and gives you a smile.

"yeah, my apologies" you just wave it off, urging him to keep going. "um i'm doing a project where i have to interview people on their majors.. trust me i don't know either, but! i've interviewed like the whole school already, and i need one more person.."

"and that person is me?" you ask, but you already know the answer to that question, yangyang nods, much more quickly than he seemed to intend to.

"yes!" he exclaims, but then he clears his throat. "but only if you want to, i don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do—"

"no no no it's fine!" you cut into his sentence, shaking your head. yangyang, again, looks elated that you agreed.

okay so this was the favor guanheng wanted you to for him! (not for him necessarily— but his friend). he could've just told you about this straight up instead of being vague about it, it wasn't even that burdening of a favor, not like the other ones you've done for him.

"guanheng! why don't you bring him around more often? he's better than you are!" yangyang yells again, probably for the nth time that hour.

guanheng doesn't answer, but you knows he's pouting, you can just sense it at this point, you call it your "roommate instincts".

"oh hi y/n".

now that's a voice you recognize, and you almost don't believe your eyes when the one person that kept you up all night walks into the room and smiles as he sees your figure. "dejun, hi" you smile back at him, hoping you don't sound as awkward as you feel.

dejun looks so so pretty, as he always does. he fiddles with the necklace hanging around his neck, his eyes lingering on you for an unspecified amount of time.

"ten hit me with his shoe" guanheng suddenly storms into the room, arms crossed over his chest. "asshole.." he mutters under his breath, huffing like some sort of baby.

dejun then laughs, covering his mouth with his hand, and that causes you to laugh, turning your head to the side as to not make it obvious.

guanheng exchanges glances between the both of you, a prominent glare in his eyes, but then the look in his eyes changes, and he points at the two of you. "you two have met?" he asks.

dejun pauses, still humored by the previous words said by guanheng, and your brain almost malfunctions once again. "i— um" great, you just sound so natural and not awkward.

"we met at the game" dejun immediately says, saving you the awkwardness of having to collect your words in your brain. you thank whatever god or deity up there for dejun's quick response, and he just flashes you that familiar pretty smile. "yesterday, you know, while you were off doing who knows what.."

guanheng gasps, looking at dejun like he'd just cursed his entire bloodline. "you— your just such a bitch! you know!?"

"ow! don't punch me! i'm fragile!"

guanheng lands one more punch on his shoulder, and it gets one more squeak out of dejun, who jumps once again. "i don't care, your horrible".

yangyang blinks, probably already used to their little quarrels. he then turns to you, just shaking his head as they continue to whisper–argue. "so, what do you major in?"

it's almost like you totally forgot, his project, the thing that guanheng dragged you here to help him with. "health sciences, i take courses in everything related to healthcare and like— half actual science courses?"

"so your looking to work in healthcare?"

"yeah basically, i've already taken courses in emergency service's, becoming a paramedic is my top option!"

yangyang gasps at your words, he looks over at guanheng, then quickly back at you. "are you single?" he asks, again with the same quickness.

dejun snorts, hitting guanheng as begins laughing hard. guanheng scrunches his nose, staring at yangyang like he's crazy. "what kind of question is that!?"

"what? that is a totally valid question to ask!" he exclaims, crossing his arms. "it's for my project! clearly!" he lies.

"your— oh my god, unbelievable".

"so are you?" yangyang asks again, looking at you with suspenseful eyes. he is very much interested in your answer it seems.

your finally finished with your laughing fit, and nod, still very amused. "yes i am, i'm single".

"good, this is very important information".

yangyang gives you a giddy look, and dejun just continues to laugh.

you're not sure why your so focused on him though..

YOU AGAIN, HAVE NO LUCK SLEEPING that night, and after the first hour and a half of tossing and turning, you gave up on trying to chase slumber you knew you wouldn't be able to catch. you assumed that the longer you stared at your computer screen, the quicker you'd get tired and the quicker your eyes would become heavier, but no! it's now almost two in the morning and you still aren't sleepy in the tiniest bit, you didn't know insomnia got this bad, if you knew this prior to coming back to school this year, you would've bought more of those sleeping pills. you lean your chin onto your hand as your computer continues playing audio from a random episode of brooklyn nine–nine.

the millions of thoughts rampant in your mind were probably distracting you, rendering it impossible to sleep, and also rendering it impossible to focus, seeing as your just looking around your room, which is pretty much boring you considering all you've been doing for the past thirty minutes is looking around your own room.

you think your gonna bore yourself to death, you pretty much prepare to stay up for the next five hours until your alarm rings and startles you out of your daze (which has happened way too many times for your comfort), but then your phone rings.

it's almost two in the morning, who exactly is calling you at this time? who knows that you're awake at 1:56 in the morning and decided to call you? they probably knew you'd pick up..

and you know who it is— it's so obvious.

dejun.

you don't mean to pick up your ringing phone as fast as you do, you want to punch yourself in the face for how desperate you seem, and you almost don't answer the phone because you feel so embarrassed. "hello?"

"hi!" dejun sounds way too joyous for someone who is sleep deprived, and up at 1:57 am. "sorry? was that too loud?"

"no no your fine" you reply, even though the speaker is on, guanheng can quite literally sleep through anything, there was one time the fire alarm was going off for a good ten minutes and he didn't even budge. "guanheng is a pretty heavy sleeper".

"he's lucky, i can't sleep" the sound of shuffling on the other line resonates in your ears, and dejun huffs, sounding frustrated. "you were the only person i assumed would be awake".

you snicker. "why is that?" you inquire, he was right, of course, but you just wanted to hear his reasoning, and also wanted him to keep talking.

you really like dejun's voice for some reason, it just scratches the right part of your brain. in these past two days you realized that you like a lot of things about dejun, many more things than you thought you might.

"your major has the word 'science' in it so i just assumed the amount of sleep you get is slim to none".

now that gets another laugh out of you, you laugh much more than you intend to, but also— it's dejun, and you can't resist the loud laugh that escapes your lips.

oh your such a desperate little bitch—

"well you'd be correct" you respond, humming as you pick at your nails. "at this point sleeping is beginning to make me tired".

there's a long pause, and your worried you made everything more awkward, because you don't hear anything from the other line. for a moment, you're almost convinced dejun hung up on you, but before you can speak he beats you to it.

"i can keep you company until you get tired" he immediately suggests, and you almost choke on your spit when he says that. "i don't mind".

you go silent, feeling as if all logical thoughts in your mind have suddenly disappeared into the air. you might sound like a complete loser right now but that was just so sweet of him to suggest, you smile much too wide for your own comfort, but you don't even think about that, because your just so charmed by the words.

"you are.." you pause, clasping your hands together as you think about what words to say next. "yeah yeah, that's fine" you finally continue, your new words having no connection to the previous ones you previously said, you just hope dejun doesn't notice.

"good! it would've been awkward if you said no" dejun giggles, and you just can't get over how cute he sounds. "plus, i wouldn't want you to be tired in the morning, lord knows how much you do in a day.."

you feel an unfamiliar fluttering feeling in your stomach, because he is so considerate? he wants to help you, he's just being so nice to you at.. two! two in the morning! you bite down on your bottom lip, hoping it doesn't bleed from how hard your tooth drives into it.

"aww, you care about me that much?" you ask, just wanting to hear him talk again. you feel like a teenage girl giggling and kicking her feet over a high school crush, except you can't kick your feet and giggle because then dejun would know.

"okay, be quiet, don't make me hang up".

"okay okay don't do that!" you say, totally meaning to sound as desperate as possible this time. "if your not here i won't ever fall asleep".

you hear something similar to a squeal on the other line, as if dejun had heard your words and just freaked out.

the realization honestly boosted your ego.

"you— you suck!"

"you offered to help me jun, don't get like this now!"

you're not sure how long it goes on for, but you swear you two laugh all night while on the phone.

"SO WHOSE THE GUY?" the question is asked so abruptly that at first, you assume you heard your friend wrong. when you look up, he stares at you with that deadpanned gaze, and that's when you realize he's completely serious. you chuckle at the realization that your friend is sure that your in love with someone (well you are— your just surprised that he figured out so quickly). "what guy? there's a guy?" you tilt your head, acting as if you have no idea what he could possibly be talking about. you giggle as you watch him slowly get even more irritated by your answer.

"you always come in here looking a little less miserable each day" chenle observes, leaning forward as he narrows his eyes at you. "someone is making you excited to live life?"

"do i always come in here looking miserable?" you ask, completely diverting your attention from chenle's previously asked question, which makes him pout.

"yep!" renjun exclaims, sitting beside you, he crosses his legs in his chair and presses his lips into a thin line. "so! who is he?"

the two seem way too excited to know about your never talked about before crush on dejun. now— you didn't know it was so obvious that you were now smitten for this new guy, you're usually the friend that's known from straying the furthest away from love, you don't remember any people you've legitimately liked that weren't elementary school crushes..

so yeah, your friends totally had every right to be surprised, because your absolutely smitten for a man and they just want to know who this man that is making you so happy is!

you hate that you give in so easily. "he's one of guanheng's friends.." you mutter, picking at your nails, looking down to make sure you don't witness renjun and chenle's reactions with your own two eyes.

renjun gasps, sounding like those ladies at the hair salons that just heard the juiciest gossip. "ooh! who? does he go here? do we know him? is he pretty?"

chenle looks over at renjun like he's crazy, that familiar judging stare in his eyes as he watches renjun lean closer to you with a totally not creepy smile on his face. "don't you think your acting a little too interested in this?"

"i just want to know!" renjun shouts, playfully glaring at the younger. he then turns back to you, and you assume his cheeks must be hurting from how hard he seems to be smiling. "tell me please?"

"he's— he's just your run of the mill pretty guy who is nice, and smart, and absolutely adorable who tells horrible jokes that still end up being funny in some way and he has a pretty laugh and i just love his voice, and talking to him, and, i can't even explain it because it'll sound stupid!"

"you sound like a psycho" chenle immediately says, laughing at you like you just confessed to an atrocious crime against humanity. you sink into your chair, slumping towards the side.

"aww! the pessimistic y/n is in love!" renjun squeals, again, like those women at the hair salon who just heard the juiciest gossip. he grabs your arm and shakes you vigorously, causing you to get dizzy in the slightest bit. "i can't believe i've lived to see this day!" he shouts, continuing to shake you as you can't properly get out your cries for help.

"renjun you're gonna kill him" chenle pinches the older in the arm, making him yelp and jump, he giggles as he witnesses the glare the older male sends him, his crushing grip remains around your arm, but you don't even mention at this point, because at least he's not shaking you anymore.

"sorry" he remarks, definitely not sorry as he squeezes your arm once again, beginning to get overly excited. "it's just.. exciting you know?"

"it's exciting that i'm in love with someone?" you raise an eyebrow, and though you expect renjun to respond, chenle quickly does.

"yep! you'll finally be gone!"

his cheer results in a gasp of offense from you, and all chenle does is giggle in victory.

THE ONE THING YOU'VE LEARNED FROM THE now excessive amounts of times you've hung around guanheng's other friends is that they're loud, they are all really loud (even sicheng! who, for a good majority of the time, is always quietly staring at his friends with clear concern in his eyes), even if they don't mean to, they're somehow always either yelling, shouting, or making some sort of scene. they're all just naturally hilarious, like comedians that don't realize they're comedians because they're just being themselves. in the past few weeks, it's like you spend more time with these people that don't go to your school in comparison to people that actually go to your school and that you can see easily.

but if you're being honest, you don't really mind that your spending all your free time with them, because they are indeed very fun to be around (and you get to see dejun much more regularly, which is something you rather enjoy), and because life would be insanely boring if guanheng didn't decide to drag you out of the dorm every other day to go do stupid things with his friends that go to a whole other school.

"you are such a cheater! i won fair and square!"

"you did not! your the cheater! sicheng is my witness!"

sicheng, who was not listening to anything either ten or yangyang had to say, looked over at the younger with a look of concern washed over his features. he blinks as he's suddenly put on the spot, smiling nervously as the youngest stares intensely at him, waiting for his answer. "uh.. i— i don't know".

his delivery makes you burst out laughing, and you cover your mouth with your hand as to not make yourself look like an absolute fool. you don't even realize that you picked up on one of dejun's habits, you might be spending too much time around him..

actually, forget that! there is no such thing as spending too much time around dejun, and that might make you sound like a "simp" but you don't care.

you've fallen, and you've fallen hard.

"okay.." guanheng presses his lips into a thin line, ignoring the way ten and yangyang now begin discussing the logistics of cheating in card games, unfortunately dragging poor sicheng into their argument. he turns to dejun and scoots closer to him. "can you do me a favor?"

dejun groans, playfully rolling his eyes. you assume he's done as much favors for guanheng as you have, and you barely stifle the snicker that dares to escape your lips.

dejun hears the sound, and smacks your arm hard, making you jump. he only gives you a teasing smile before turning to guanheng, having to give him a response.

"at what lengths do i have to go for this favor?"

guanheng scoffs, crossing his arms. "it's nothing insane or anything, i just want you to get me something.."

"and you can't get it yourself because..?"

"i have no money on me" and there goes that signature guanheng frown, dejun opens his mouth to argue but then he shuts it so quickly it seems like he just got out in some sort of trance.

"fine fine" dejun rolls his eyes once again, surrendering much too quickly. "you owe me though—"

"take y/n with you".

there's a pause, both you and dejun go very silent for a moment. whilst dejun is just confused, you absolutely know what guanheng is doing, and you have to use every bit of patience in your body to restrain yourself instead of jumping over the table and tackling him right then and there.

dejun is clearly clueless, though, because he just raises an eyebrow. "why?" he inquires, somehow sounding so sweet even though his question is asked with so much confusion.

"y/n knows what i want".

what a smooth lie, dejun glances over at you, and you just shrug, having no idea what more to say. "he needs to take a walk anyway" guanheng lies again, wow, two in a row! he's on a roll.

"okay..?"

so that's how you find yourself on a walk with the person that you are very much in love with, a somehow comfortable silence spread between the two of you as dejun hums an unfamiliar tune to himself, hands in his pockets, eyes closed as he slowly sways back and forth.

he looks very peaceful, just doing what he does, being effortlessly pretty as he does so, and you observe his behavior, almost entranced by it in a sense.

you only stop when he speaks up—

"do you think they're still arguing?" he suddenly asks, and you snap out of whatever daze you were having, praying that he totally didn't notice you admiring him like a creep. "or are they just.. conversing calmly now?"

you don't want to seem like even much more of a weirdo, but you feel like he asked that question just as an excuse to talk to you, and maybe your thinking too much into it, but you've definitely done that before, so you know what it looks like.

"i hope they aren't still arguing" you answer, and dejun looks up at you, smiling. "that'd be a long ass time to argue".

"well they like arguing just to argue" dejun replies, fiddling with his necklace. "but they're harmless.. for the most part".

his delivery makes you laugh, and you look down at your shoes. "you're a very calm person, you know, the opposite of guanheng".

the sudden statement from dejun makes you look up at him once again, and this time, he's staring directly at you, as if he had been waiting to make eye contact with you the whole time. "calm?"

"well compared to my roommates you are" he giggles, and maybe he doesn't mean to, but he stares at so intensely that your legs feel shaky.

"who knows? maybe i'm a fraud" you tease, purposefully leaning closer to him so your words have an effect. dejun's eyes widen, and he lightly leans away from you, looking speechless. "you'd never know, though".

you don't know how you suddenly got so bold, or why you were so amused at the sight of dejun freaking out, you feel like some sort of genius for what you just did, and you snicker at yourself before leaning back.

dejun takes in a deep breath, looking like he's trying to fix himself. he clears his throat and stumbles through his next words. "i— uh.. you're such an idiot!" he decides to say, crossing his arms over his chest.

your not sure how the two of you became so casual in this amount of time, a few weeks ago, dejun wasn't such a regular figure in your life, and you were just any other college student doing their best to get by, not thinking about falling in love with a gorgeous oreo–haired man—

but you're also not complaining.

you aren't sure how you got so lucky, how it just happened that you could continue to spend time with the cute boy you met at a stupid football game simply because the two of you shared mutual friends, it's one of times guanheng's actually done you a favor, without even realizing it too!

"okay i'm sorry" you giggle, shoving your hands into your pockets, you once again begin taking from dejun's habits and sway back and forth. "seriously!"

"you're unbelievable" dejun exaggerates, rolling his eyes, but it wasn't serious, and you knew it wasn't serious. "but i meant what i said, your calm".

you raise an eyebrow at him, wanting to know more about the observations he has about you. "could you elaborate on that?" you don't mean to laugh, but you do, and it causes dejun to laugh too.

"you just.. seem content with what you have" he explains, but he doesn't explain it enough, so he continues. "like someone could get you a piece of paper as a birthday gift and you'd be pleased".

you laugh, hard, because he somehow managed to get you spot on. you almost feel like he is reading your mind, because he nailed you down with each word. "really? i guess i am like that".

"ah, so my prediction was right then!"

you laugh at how glad he is. "yeah, i am truly not that hard to please, gifts are gifts and if someone gets one for me, there's no use in being mad if the gift isn't something i like, at least they remembered to get me something!"

dejun stares at you for a specifically long time, looking you up and down. he stares at you with warm eyes, a gaze that seems so near and dear to his heart, a gaze so loving that it looked like he was about to get down on one knee and propose to you.

"i like any and all gifts" you continue.

"are there any specific kinds of gifts you like?"

dejun asks that question in a tone that makes it seem like he's totally not trying to sound suspicious, but he is totally asking you that question for a very specific reason.

guanheng must've told him something..

at least, that's what you assume, but dejun is patiently waiting for your answer, and you can't daydream the whole time about the true meaning of his words.

"i like books, plushies, music tapes, vinyl's, you know.. regular gifts that people like receiving".

dejun hums, as if he's noting down the information you're telling him in his mind, still, you don't say anything about his mannerisms, just keep it to yourself.

"are you noting down my reply?"

"i'm just keeping it in mind!" he says, smiling brightly at you. "just in case your special occasion comes up and i don't know what to get you".

oh! so guanheng definitely did tell him something..

"i mean— were friends! any gift from you will be a good gift".

at the word friends, dejun seems to pause, cogs in his brains turning as he tries to process your words. you don't understand why he would be trying to understand your words, because the two of you were clearly friends, did he think you two were something else?

you see the flash of disappointment on his face, but it quickly reverts back to a smile and he simply acts like nothing happened. "sorry, the word 'friends' just caught me off guard".

a lie..

how interesting.

"seriously though, i just want to get you a gift you'll appreciate forever".

but you're already enough for me— do you know how much you've changed my life?

your own thoughts manage to surprise you, because the words that you just told yourself in your own mind startle you enough that you make a judging face at yourself. luckily, dejun is turned away from you, so he doesn't notice.

"well that's thoughtful of you".

"i try my best.." he responds, finally looking back at you with that same loving stare, one that wants to lure you in and make you trip on your own feet.

for some reason, the two of you stop. there's an uncharacteristically long pause, like the world just decided to cease for a moment, and you both are completely stuck in place, just there, staring at each other.

dejun's eyes move, as if scanning your face like a camera, and they (of course) stop at your lips. he stares at them for what seems like forever, and it almost looks like he's restraining himself, but by the way he bites his bottom lip, it's clear—

he wants to kiss you.

and maybe there's a small voice at the back of his head that tells him to cut it out, because he almost immediately snaps out of whatever daze he was having, and clears his throat, his cheeks going a bright red.

"uh— sorry, yeah, um, we should get going" he says, shaking his head as he pulls his sleeves down.

"guanheng will yell at us if we're late".

okay, so he just decides to not talk about it? you want to ask him why he didn't just do it, because he clearly wanted to, but before you can even open your mouth, or get any words out, he grabs your hand and the two of you continue walking back to the group.

he doesn't say anything more, doesn't try to make anymore small talk, and while you do want to bring up what just happened there, you don't.

you just bask in the feeling of dejun's hands intertwined with your own.

it's a good feeling, you decide.

THAT MOMENT IS STUCK ON YOUR MIND for what seems like years. you can't get over it! how he was looking at you, how he clearly wanted to kiss you, but for some reason, decided to stop himself from doing so. you're not sure why you didn't just tell him that it was okay, that you would be completely fine with him kissing you, but you guess that you're just a complete idiot as well, because you just stayed silent throughout the whole thing, the two of you equally deciding in silence to not bring it up, just sitting next to each other in awkwardly for the rest of the night.

and yeah, it's become normal for dejun to constantly run through your mind these days, it's like he has his own subsection in your mind, dedicated to thoughts about him and him only, but it's like he's just become rampant in there ever since that.. thing he did (or should you say, didn't do, considering he decided to not kiss you when the opportunity was right there), maybe you should've pulled him in, maybe you should've (for once) been impulsive and done the first thing put to your mind.

and this crawls through your mind for days, then those days become a good week and a half. now— you and dejun aren't not talking or anything, it was just sort of difficult to look at him without thinking about that.

you're so into your thoughts these days, that you are much more spacey during your classes, at home, and somehow, guanheng picks up on your weird turn, which is crazy, because guanheng was the last person you expected to notice something like that, he usually never notices most things in front of him anyway.

"okay, what the fuck happened?" he decides to randomly drop it on you when he seems to have had enough, which is funny, because he's technically the person that started the whole thing.

you look up from your phone, blinking at him like he just said something out of this world. "hm?" he scoffs at your lack of a response, shoving your shoulder, which results in a glare from you.

"what happened?" he asks again, this time without the extra swear word, he makes himself comfortable on the other side of the couch. "you are acting weird" he points at you accusingly, like you'd just been accused of a crime and he was trying to figure out if you were truly suspicious.

"i don't know what your talking about.."

"stop stalling!" he complains, grabbing your arm and beginning to shake you back and forth. "tell me! you can't keep acting weird and just not tell me what's wrong".

now you want to tell him, but in your mind it sounds so stupid that you feel like guanheng would laugh at you the moment you uttered the first few words of your sentence. "you're going to laugh".

guanheng gasps, offended by your response, though it is true, he just wants to be dramatic. "i won't! i'm concerned! i'm being a good roommate and asking you what's wrong!"

so, you roll your eyes, taking a deep breath. "okay so hypothetically.." you begin, because you have no other idea how to start your sentence.

hypothetically just means = it was indeed not hypothetical!

"hypothetically, uh huh.." guanheng hums, understanding the true meaning your words have. "okay sorry, continue".

"let's just say that, hypothetically, i am totally in love with one of your best friends, and that friend totally wanted to kiss me but then chickened out last minute and like an idiot i didn't say anything and i have no idea how to go about it".

guanheng's eyes widen at your words, and his jaw almost drops. "hypothetically though" you add to the end of your sentence after a long pause.

"right right! hypothetically.." he nods, though he can't contain his look of excitement at the words. "and you didn't kiss him back!?"

you're almost knocked off the chair from how intense his yell is. you groan and cover your face with your hands, embarrassed and ashamed. "i didn't know how to bring it up and not be awkward!"

"just say 'hey dejun you could totally kiss me and it'd be fine because we are both mortifyingly in love with each other'!" guanheng shouts, louder than his previous words. he's always so straight up, and you almost wish you didn't tell him anything. "it's that easy!"

"it is not!" you shout in rebuttal, crossing your arms and frowning. your acting like guanheng at this point, but that's not what you're noticing at this very moment. "it's easy for you! you date people and you kiss people all the time! i don't do that!"

"excuses excuses!"

you're at a loss for words at his lackluster words, you once again, frown and turn away from him. "i'm sorry! i have never been hardcore in love with someone like this before! i don't know how to talk about it!"

guanheng looks like he's about to yell again, but he takes a deep breath and relaxes himself, leaning back in the couch. "okay, i'm sorry for yelling.."

"y/n, you really just need to tell him how you feel straight up, because if you keep stalling than none of you will end up confessing in the end and you'll both just be going through a loop of 'should we or should we not?'"

you blink, staring at guanheng for a good few minutes, honestly surprised. this is probably the best advice he's ever given you, usually, you’re the one that has to give him advice because he always ends up doing something stupid and has someone that wants to murder him because of that stupid thing he did.

"that was actually.. good advice" you reply, laughing at guanheng's eye roll. he just shoves you, making sure he does extra hard this time to get his point across.

"shut up! i always give good advice!"

"you usually don't give any advice at all.." you mutter, running a hand through your hair as you look away from your roommate, who just glares at you like you just committed a federal offense.

"say something again and i'm gatekeeping dejun from you!"

"your what!?"

at the sound of your shout, guanheng giggles as he scurries away, proud of himself for the words that escape his lips.

YOU'RE NOT SURE HOW YOU SOMEHOW LET guanheng drag you off to a party on a friday night where all you wanted to do is relax. parties have never truly been your thing, but that's because being surrounded by a bunch of drunk and high adults just isn't your idea of fun, you're also just not a big drinker, so the only reason you usually even end up at parties is to take guanheng home when he gets too drunk and can't fully articulate his thoughts. so, the fact that guanheng was somehow able to convince you to get out of the house and go to a party when you truly should've been at home, watching horrible sitcoms.

but no, you're here! and you can't leave without guanheng because if you did, he'd probably find a way to end up killing himself, or he'd say the wrong thing to the wrong person and would end up getting punched in the face.

so you find yourself in a familiar spot, your back against a wall as you stare at your phone, somehow able to ignore the hundreds of screaming drunk people that surround you, it's become a skill of yours, and you're not sure how exactly it developed, you've just become such a natural when it comes to ignoring others.

guanheng, of course, has already walked off to do his own thing, but not before reminding you of the advice he'd given you a few days prior, yelling at you to 'just tell the boy you like him!'

maybe his advice is burned into your brain, because now all you wish is that you were with dejun, talking about something stupid, or just talking.

and there must've been somebody listening in on your thoughts, because he suddenly walks around the corner, head whipping around like he's searching for someone.

your not trying to look at him, but he catches your gaze immediately, and he skips towards you like a kid in a candy store.

"hi" he greets, a little giggle to his words. his face is a shade of bright red as he giggles once again, though nothing's funny. "pretty".

he whispers the last word, with the intention of you not hearing it, but his mind must be too clouded for him to realize that he said it much louder than he thought he did, but you don't say anything, just hum.

"hello" you greet back, and he laughs once again, covering his hand with his mouth. "are you okay?"

a loud snicker leaves his lips, and he moves closer to you to link his arm with yours. he rests his head onto your arm, a content smile spreading across his face. "i'm drunk".

his honest answer makes you question his state for a moment, since when do drunk people admit that they're drunk? or maybe he's only just tipsy.. your not sure, but he's not acting like a totally sober person right now.

"are you sure?" you raise an eyebrow, dejun just responds with a small 'hmph', and he keeps your arm linked with his. "dejun".

"yes! i am!" he yells as rebuttal, shaking your arm a few times. "do you wanna smell my breath?"

"oh no no no" you reply, covering his mouth with your hand. he laughs at you, his cheeks as pink as yangyang's hair, he grabs your hands, and whilst yours are cold, his are burning hot. "okay you have energy".

"i'm sorry" he suddenly blurts, another snort escaping his lips as he leans his head against your chest. you give him a look, confused as to why he felt the need to apologize.

"for what?"

"for doing that thing" dejun responds, closing his eyes as he sways back and forth. "i probably made everything awkward, i didn't mean to".

that's what he thinks? he thinks that he made everything awkward? you feel your heart break at the realization, but all dejun does is laugh sadly.

"you didn't— you didn't make everything awkward, it's okay".

dejun laughs again, clearing his throat. "just tell the truth, y/n.."

you chuckle, not at dejun, just at his words. he wants you to tell the truth? fine.. you will!

"dejun" you begin, using your pointer finger to tilt his chin up so the two of you make eye contact, you watch as his eyes widen, but he doesn't move, just lets you do your thing. "you can kiss me, it's okay".

he blinks, as if trying to figure out if you were lying or not. he opens his mouth, but no words come out, so he closes it again. "it is?" he asks again, just wanting reassurance, you hear his voice crack, but he's getting impatient, he wants your answer.

"yeah it's fine".

that's all the conformation dejun seems to need, because he finally presses his lips to yours after what seems like years of waiting. your arms naturally rest on his waist, and there's just something, something about this that makes you smile.

there's an urgency in the way he kisses you, and his hand comes up to hold your face. he is just so desperate, and it would be a lie to say that you weren't just as desperate as he is. you'd been wanting this for so long, you don't even know how many times you thought about what it would be like to kiss dejun.

his fingers caress your cheek, and the contact feels like your skin was set ablaze. maybe this is what you needed, and you assume it's exactly what dejun needed to, because he pushes on your shoulder with a seemingly inhumane amount of force, which makes you gasp a little.

while your one arm is around his waist, the other one goes up to run your fingers through his hair, somehow causing the two of you to both smile, barely stifling your laughs.

after what seems like forever, dejun pulls away, and while you're standing there, breathless, he just smiles, relaxing as you play with his hair. "you like my hair?"

you aren't sure why out of all things, that's what he decides to ask, but you laugh, completely enamored by the boy in front of you. "yep, it's soft" you reply, biting your inner cheek. "the color suits you".

dejun tilts his head, looking up at you with his insanely pretty eyes. you just want to squish his cheeks, or wrap him in a blanket and hold him forever, you aren't sure why you just have this surge of loving emotions for absolutely no reason, maybe it's the way he's staring at you, or that he just left you breathless and did it so flawlessly.

he hums, not knowing how to respond to your compliment. he just suddenly gets shy, his ears turning red at your words.

"you're so stupid.."

that's probably his favorite phrase to say to you by now, but you don't mind, you just smile as he hides his face away from you. 

"dejun" you call out despite him being right in front of you, and he looks up at you again, gaze warm as he gives you a small smile.

"yes?"

"i love you" you immediately spout, not even surprised by how high your voice has gotten. "like— in the i'm in love with you kinda way and not in a i just want you to kiss you but not call you my boyfriend kinda way".

dejun pauses, snickering at your words, he looks at you like you're the only person in the world.

what other way could there possibly be?

but you don't get any response, at least, not from him, because all he does is lean forward and press his lips to yours.

YOU'VE NEVER REALLY BEEN A FAN OF YOUR BIRTHDAY, and you aren't sure why. it used to be a fun thing up until you turned twelve and it suddenly felt like a switch had flipped, as if your birthday was making you miserable. now it's not like you always feel depressed on your birthday, it's just that sometimes you don't want to have a huge birthday celebration. most of the time— you only request for huge birthday bashes on specific days, like when you turned ten (you were very excited about becoming a double–figured age), or when you turned eighteen (you became an adult, not that exciting but it was definitely something, you could finally legally drink), but it's truly only specific days that you don't mind having large, people–filled birthday parties.

and not only were you not exactly anticipating your birthday, you already had something even bigger on your mind the whole time.

like dejun ghosting you! that's definitely one!

okay so you tell the guy you love him, you make out with him at a party (in the opposite order but oh well), he doesn't give you a response and then he decides to just ignore you?

maybe he just didn't know what to say, and that also lead to him just not picking up his phone for a good two weeks as he completely ignored your calls and texts and voicemails!

and with this being the only thing on your mind, your birthday seemed to be the least important event at the moment.

you didn't really want to think about it, and the campus was starting to make you feel sick, so this year you planned on visiting your parents after the day was over, considering your special day fell on a friday—

but guanheng, guanheng had other plans.

he practically begged you to let him throw the party for you, he wanted to do it so bad that he vowed to never ask you for a favor ever again (which is a lie! he never keeps his promises!), he was acting so desperate, it was like you'd just saved his life or something.

you're not sure what made guanheng so eager to throw a party for you, especially because you just didn't know what you would do with a bunch of people in your dorm.

but he insisted, he would throw you the best party in the world.

and after what seemed like forever, you two finally agreed on something—

you go visit your parents friday evening, and guanheng throws your party on saturday, easy!

"what do you mean strawberry isn't a good flavor!?"

you scoff at his question, nodding your head, as if confirming your words. "i don't like strawberry flavored things, you get me a strawberry cake and i'm making you sleep outside".

your threat results in a gasp from your roommate, who looks genuinely hurt by your words as he places a hand on his chest, horrified. "you are such a horrible roommate! threatening me when i'm throwing a party for you".

"it'll be a horrible party if you get me a horribly flavored cake".

you totally mean what you say as well— you truly dislike strawberry cake.

and when guanheng said party, you didn't exactly anticipate how many people he would decide to let into your dorm.

now you know a good chunk of these people, but most of these people probably decided to come just because they knew guanheng, all they did was utter some happy birthday's and then they ran off to do their own thing.

guanheng got most things right, he just invited a bunch of people that really didn't care for your birthday, just wanted to be around him.

so it's no surprise that you felt just a little disappointed about the people at your party that just didn't give two shits about your actual birthday.

and guanheng was off doing something else, though you could actually see him this time, he was telling people where to put the gifts they brought for you.

your beginning to feel suffocated in your own dorm, which is ironic to you, because this is quite literally the place you go to get away from a bunch of people, it's the only place of yours that isn't full of people.

so, you clear your throat, and push through people to get to the door, not wanting to stay inside with all these people, you'll probably end up throwing up everywhere if you stay inside even longer.

when you exit the dorm, you take a deep breath the moment you close the door, letting your back fall against it. you immediately jump as you see a person behind the door—

okay so dejun (who you confessed your love to by the way!), is pacing back and forth in front of your door, totally stressing. you blink, a look of confusion spreading across your face. "um.."

"are you okay?"

you aren't even sure why you opened your mouth, but if you didn't, this would just go on for a good twenty more minutes.

dejun jumps, clearing his throat as he smiles awkwardly. "you— scared the shit out of me".

he's acting so casually? after not talking to you for a good two weeks!?

"sorry—"

"i'm sorry!"

dejun immediately yells, covering his face with his hands. "i'm so sorry for not texting you! or calling you! or giving you a response! it was so stupid of me to not consider your feelings and instead of just telling you straight up how i felt i decided to ignore you but i was scared that i wouldn't be able to tell you without making it awkward and it—"

"dejun" you place your hands on his shoulders, turning him around to face you. "your rambling".

he sighs, eyes darting away from your face, he frowns. "but it's not okay, i didn't talk to you, i probably came off as such an asshole! you were probably so confused, and i just.. said nothing!"

you observe his features, and he looks even more anxious at your silence. his face goes red, and his leg begins bouncing up and down, whilst his hands look for something to hold.

"okay, calm down.." you mutter, reaching for his left hand and lacing it together with yours. "it's okay, there's no need to be worried".

"i'm sorry" he says again, finally looking up at you. "i get it if you don't forgive me—"

"dejun" you cut into his sentence, squeezing his left hand. "i forgive you.. i love you".

you repeat your confession once more, and dejun blinks, processing your words.

"i love you too".

and finally, after what seems like forever, after what was so long, he gave you a response.

before you could say anything more, dejun pulls you in for a hug, his arms circling around your waist. you're a bit taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but you also don't mind, because he squeezes you tighter.

"happy birthday" he mumbles, a small smile coming to his face as he feels your hand comb through his hair. "i'm sorry".

"stop apologizing" you say, lifting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. "i forgive you, it's okay".

and it is, you're being completely honest, but dejun doesn't say more, immediately pulling you back into a warm hug

but suddenly, the door to your dorm swings open and guanheng peaks his head out, eyes widening as he witnesses the current thing. he has absolutely no context to anything which was happening at the moment, he just opened the door to witness a totally unaware dejun hugging you.

"uh.." he blinks, glancing between you two, but not asking anything, just clearing his throat. "it's time to cut the cake?" he laughs awkwardly, and you just smile, giving him a i'll be right there look.

"o...kay" he doesn't say anything more, just goes back inside and closes the door.

dejun giggles as guanheng closes the door, pulling away again to look up at you. "oh he is totally tired of us".

"we didn't do anything, though".

dejun snickers, lightly hitting your arm. "okay okay, you need to stop, it's your birthday, you have to go cut your cake".

"and.." he pauses, pulling a box out of nowhere and handing it over to you. "open your gifts".

you raise an eyebrow, confused. "where were you even hiding that?"

"that's irrelevant! it's your birthday, come on!"

and you let him drag you back into your dorm, smiling at him the whole time.

YOU ALMOST CONSIDER THE WAY YOU are acting to be absurd, and it's funny how much of another side dejun can just bring out of you. now you would never consider yourself to be a grumpy person, but people usually do describe you as having a 'natural frown'. you never really thought of yourself as being like that, but you guess that people don't see you look so happy much, because they continue to point out how it's like some glitch in the matrix to see you just a little less miserable as each day passes. chenle especially makes comments, talking about how you need to "put your smile away" because not seeing your resting face constantly freaks him out, renjun on the other hand, is elated, or maybe he's just glad he can finally be rid of you, you don't know.

but all that put aside, you are happy, and you have a cute oreo–haired man to thank for that.

and maybe this is all you really need, just dejun, the two of you don't even have to do anything, he can just lay his head down onto your shoulder and you'd be having a good time.

you like it when he sits down and paints your nails for you, or when he watches you bake over your shoulder, not knowing what to do but happy to watch you do your thing, or when he coerces you to win prizes from carnival games for him with his absolutely adorable eyes (he doesn't even need to try to coerce you, you'd do it either way).

"i'm pretty sure this is illegal".

"it's not!" you reply, though you mean to reassure dejun, your words seem to worry him more than anything. you take his hand, squeezing it. "dejun, i'm not getting you into any illegal activity".

"i can never tell with you" he retorts suspiciously, keeping your hand in his as you lead him up, he would have tripped if not for you holding your hand and guiding you up.

you clear your throat, patting the spot beside you as dejun immediately sits, so close to you that your legs are touching. "if i ever wanted to do something illegal, i'd know better than to bring you along".

he gasps, and you can't resist the urge to laugh at how offended he sounds. "what is that supposed to mean!?"

"you" your pointer finger touches his nose, and he doesn't even try to move. "are a snitch, you would be horrible to commit a crime with".

dejun slaps your hand away, and you laugh at the way he crosses his arms, a familiar pout gracing his absolutely beautiful features. "you— i.. take that back!"

"it's true! even yangyang would be a better option than you!"

dejun is even more offended by the words, and he slowly scoots away from you, arms still crossed as he pouts. you giggle as he remains scooted away from you, still angry about the words you said.

"uh— jun, i was just joking!"

"you suck".

dejun glares, but his glare is anything but serious, as you can see the way he slowly starts to break under your gaze, resisting the urge to burst into laughter. "i hate you".

"you love me".

he does, and he can't pretend he doesn't, because he almost immediately snickers, looking away from you as to not laugh more.

oh he is just so adorable.

you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist, making him yelp. "you're so cute" you mutter into his shoulder, and at this point, dejun doesn't even try to pretend anymore.

"you're so corny" he says, patting your arms that currently circle around his waist. you lean your head down onto his shoulder, making yourself comfortable, and he just lets you, because at this point he can't really push you off him.

"don't fall asleep, i'm not going to carry you back to your place".

"you would be too weak to carry me anyway— ow!"

you yell loudly as dejun nudges you in the stomach with his elbow, and while he looks absolutely proud of himself, you just glare, absolutely done with him.

but you don't say anything, just lets your fingers run through his hair, probably your favorite thing to do with him. he just cups your face, and he just smiles at your face, giggling. "your just as cute as when we first met".

the statement makes you snicker, because you did not expect for him to say that out of all things he could've said. you get why he says it though, because you are at the place where it all began, the bleachers, the same bleachers where you two were standing when you shared your first interaction.

you tilt your head, wanting to tease him more. "so there were moments where i wasn't cute, then?"

dejun scoffs, turning away from you. he lightly pinches your arm, and you yelp once again, inching away from him. "why do you enjoy hurting me?"

he smiles innocently. "i don't, i have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"

your face drops, and all dejun does is laugh, squeezing your cheeks. "don't be mad, babe, you know i love you".

and you do, you do know, he never fails to remind you of how much he does.

"i love you too.."

with your eye rolls, and tiny mutters, dejun knows, he knows that you're telling the truth.

[rosinkreutz]

Category 5 Rambling Alert:

If I were writing the Strive story mode, I think I would have had the conflict with Jack'O sacrificing herself to destroy I-No be that only one of the personalities got destroyed and not both... I don't really know why they did it the way that they did tbh, because if both Aria and Jack'O were destroyed, then that's unequivocally bad. But if it's presented as a choice between them, then that's actually in line with the internal conflict of her realizing she's become her own person that wants to live and not just a disposable vessel.

Like, Jack'O would be say "No... This body was made for you... You're the one that Frederick and Asuka want..."

And Aria responds: "This isn't about them... It's about you..."

And they go back and forth until the end of the story.

I-No is ascended, and then instead of Jack'O going to try to defeat her first, Sol does the bit with the Outrage laser pretty much immediately while the others distract her. Except this time, it actually is killing him for real since he doesn't have the FOC anymore. Jack'O is desperately trying to get him to let go of the trigger, saying like, "You can't die! Don't you want to see Aria again?!"

Then Sol says something to the tune of "Have I ever called you Aria?"... He looks at her with so much love and closes his eyes (expecting to die).

But then... He comes back into consciousness and looks around, confused... He sees one of Jack'O's minions sitting where she was, holding a piece of the now broken Outrage. It waves at him and goes "Bye-Bye!" (like in the game), then disappears- to which Sol looks up in shock just in time to see Jack'O hurl herself into I-No to sacrifice herself instead.

About this time Asuka is also waking up (passed out after being turned into a book) to see the same thing, and they both shout and try to stop her.

Time freezes around Jack'O once she reaches I-No. She looks to see one of Asuka's mecha hands just inches away from her back, and Frederick in the middle of trying to stagger up into a run. Here, she talks to Aria one more time, and Jackie finally says something like "I guess I just didn't realize it before... Or I thought it was just your feelings tricking me... But I think I feel... No... I know I really, really love him!"

She finally lets Aria take the SOJ to destroy I-No.

And then she and Sol reunite and hug and what not...

Then a little later, Sol and Asuka have their final confrontation (which is mostly Asuka getting mad at Sol for not wanting to kill him anymore- itd be the first time seeing Asuka show any intense emotion). Afterwards, Jack'O joins them but before anyone can say anything, she just completely decks Asuka and knocks him to the ground. Immediately, she kneels down beside him and apologizes profusely, saying that Aria had asked her to do it before she destroyed herself.

Asuka looks very solemn and understanding (and in pain), but then Jack'O says "But she also wanted you to know that she forgives you..."

At this point Asuka is clearly just barely, by sheer willpower alone, not shattering into a million sobbing pieces. He goes on to reassure her that even though she didn't fulfill her original purpose, he'll always be so proud of her. It ends with the three of them watching the sunrise over a beautiful sea of clouds. That's my vision anyway.

Wait one more thought. The outro credits are shot like they're going around the world checking up on people (maybe like its following a bird? Raven?), and then at the end it starts zooming way, way out and takes us to the moon. Many quiet shots of a desolate Tír na nÓg... Finally, we reach Asuka, sitting alone in a big empty room meant for hundreds. He looks longingly at the Earth through one of the massive windows and says to himself, "This really is the loneliest place in the universe..."

Aimless, he wanders around (very large hallways to make him look even more small and alone) until he enters the main area with that weird floating piano. He gets it to land and absentmindedly starts testing the keys... Then, after a moment of hesitation, he plays the first notes of Freesia, which segues into the song as the screen cuts to the last of the credits.

Then it ends for reals.