#while i know i never want kids. she is aware but chooses to ignore this. gaaaahHh

[seastoried]

on another note

[coconutdays]

bed chem

s. part one! of frat president Toji Zenin being your school crush and you his ! this is the same Toji from my Seat Taker universe hehe

toji zenin has rescinded himself to the thought that you are too pure for him. its not some sort of pervy thing where he think you'd be a prude to bed or boring to talk to, but it pains him to think about bringing his not so innocent ways into the life of the girl that's always got a soft smile in her eyes when she's speaking to anyone and wearing the most put together outfits.

he knows you notice him during the overlap of time that both of you spend studying in the school library. every time he heads out before you for class, there's a fleeting moment of eye contact he makes with you before he looks away as if he couldn't care less.

but you don't know this and simply hold some shame that he always catches you looking at him when he leaves, never choosing to give you a smile in return or any sort of positive reaction. all you know is that you get extremely nervous when you end up on an elevator with him and other university students, squished up right in front of him.

his chest hits your back and you pray to god that he can't hear or feel your heart pounding

unbeknownst to you, toji pays no mind to that and is too busy resisting the urge to roll his eyes back in pleasure over the rich smell of your perfume.

when the elevator door opens, much to his horrible luck, toji sees the idiot of his fellow frat member Satoru and his best friend Suguru standing in front of the entrance.

the forced look of carelessness in the frat president's face is no deterrent to his pledge, who smirks knowingly at you and him, even going as far as letting his gaze wander on you as you usher out like a small mouse.

the symbiotic duo start walking with toji, who can't resist the curt sentence that leaves his mouth.

"weren't you idiots going down."

"ah we were but I just wanted to know since when you were screwing the hottie from my math class." the white haired pomeranian speaks in a breathy tone, smile evident even though toji wasn't looking at him

"fuck off. i haven't been screwing anyone."

"then what's up with the boner." satoru bites back, "and the whole 'very obviously being aware of each other but ignoring it' thing?"

toji almost walks into a table, gruffly asking "that girl's in your math class?"

"affirmative."

"forget about her then.” the president tosses his backpack on a table and moves to take out his laptop from it

“Is that my frat prez asking?” Satoru fake pouts

A single mean look his way and Satoru smirks, “fine mr prez” before retreating

A couple weeks later the same fiend struts into their fraternity's private gym, interrupting Toji's jiu jitsu training session

"you owe me that bulk pack of toblerone we saw at Costco." he whistles while swinging his phone around

sweaty, toji peaks over his brows, "the hell, why would I."

one very calculated and perhaps spoiled toss, and toji seamlessly catches satoru's phone

"I did get some help from the weird kid with glasses who suggested we all make a group chat to study for the mid-term together." satoru sighed dreamily, "but there she is, in all her hotness."

what toji was looking back at, was your instagram profile, in all its beauty

god, he didn't know you could smile like that

and that's your name

toji didn't even realize how long he had been staring until satoru yanked the phone away from him and clicked a few buttons on his phone

"jeez, prez if you were into her that bad why didn't you go up to her already," he says before stuffing his phone back into his pocket, "I sent you her profile so you can stalk and stare all you want."

later when he's in bed and doing his regular phone scroll, he takes the time to fully inspect your profile

he's subconsciously grateful for the opportunity now because he's never gotten to stare at you this much before. it enables him to further fall for you, much to his dismay.

you’re beautiful and sexy and pretty and everything good.

and there’s more on your stories

he’s viewing your first highlight. sucking in a breath at every picture because he can’t stand how good looking you are.

he needs you bad

you in a pink dress, you in a pretty yellow blouse, you in a sexy black dress, you in red kitten heels, you in skintight jeans, you in todays short denim skirt

wait, today?

his eyes zoom to when you posted that

3 hours ago

fuck

[haine-kleine]

i thought the ending couldn't be more disappointing and then this japanese tweet proved me wrong

because all of this is true. Ochako and Izuku will never forget Toga and Tenko and half of their epilogue was about this, however messily done. Ochako dedicated herself to creating better conditions for people like Toga, because she saw how badly Toga was suffering and despite failing to save her and give her a brighter future, she committed to building that future on her own, selflessly gifting it to others. Izuku had failed to save Tenko despite wanting to, and this weights on his conscience eight years later, and will continue to haunt him in the form of Shigaraki's ghost watching him, not letting him forget himself in the happy ending of joining his hero classmates and achieving his dream.

it's still messy and unfaithful as fuck, but at least these two endings still show that the consequences were there. the unfair deaths of the villains weren't simply swept under the rug and forgotten after a few sad talks about them.

and the thing these two cases share in common? Ochako and Izuku really didn't owe it to Toga and Shigaraki to save them. they didn't. they were hero kids thrown in the middle of the war these very villains waged on them. they both were younger than their respective villains, they both were hurt by these villains, they had no prior history with them, and having shared a few conversations was enough to make them emphasize with and humanize the villains. nothing that happened to Himiko and Tenko was inflicted on them by Ochako and Izuku, and yet just seeing that, hearing about that was enough to ignite sympathy in their hearts. because, you know, they are heroes. they are there to save people from suffering. and even when those people are the ones actively hurting them and their friends, they are mature enough to set that aside and attempt to save their human lives.

enter the star of the show, the only character in this story who despite having committed truly villainous acts, is allowed to go consequences free without a single care in the world. Enji. the person who had single-handedly fucked Touya up to the point his mental state was too messed up even for AFO to deal with. he had given life to this baby, and he was constantly made aware of how badly his attitude is affecting this child by Rei. and he couldn't be bothered to do anything for him, not even to look at him. the fire on Sekoto was 100% Enji's fault, not only because he couldn't be bothered to come visit his son on his day off when Touya had asked him to, but also because the number two hero on his day off was too slow to come to the forest near his house to save Touya from the fire or from All for One. this makes Touya being kept under AFO's care for the following 3 years Enji's responsibility, as he was the only one who could have saved Touya from AFO. even after Touya wakes up from his coma and immediately runs to his house as fast as he can, it's Enji's behaviour alone that makes him decide against making his presence known to the family for the following 7 years. this excuse of a father can't even mourn the death of a son he explicitly blames himself for in such way that won't make his entire existence feel meaningless to him.

and after Touya reveals himself to Enji personally as Dabi? he proves that he still hasn't changed at all and utterly fails to do anything about the situation while Shouto has to repeatedly remind him of it. not only was he procrastinating, the narrative was coddling him the entire time, with the support of other heroes and sidekicks, who despite being shown the truth about Enji, choose to ignore it. even the family he has been abusing for years, the family who was mourning Touya together, joins their efforts to support Enji.

Touya's only desires were to be seen and to be heard. both went unanswered, as after showing the world the unfiltered truth of the misery his father had caused to him, the world covered their earths and turned away. after showing himself to his family, they keep looking at Enji, not at him.

even at the very end, the end of the family's hell is more about Enji than about any other character. he is the only one allowed to talk about his feelings in depth, while the rest of them are reduced to barebone imitations of their previously established characters used as props for supporting Enji's character resolution (with the exception of Touya, who is physically unable to speak for longer than 5 minutes a day anymore. wow). even Natsuo cutting off Enji is less about the latter being a horrible excuse of a father and more about Enji's great stoicism accepting everything the family throws at him with a heroic face. Rei's character no longer makes sense because exactly a month ago her mental state and the trauma inflicted on her by this very man didn't allow her to face him at all. and now she is suddenly okay with becoming his caretaker? why is she taking her responsibility for Touya and not talking about Enji's responsibility at all? this was a man who had abused her so badly she had a psychotic episode. you don't just shrug off things like this. you don't sit in a psychiatric ward for ten years after that, waiting to be let out and jump on the first chance of making yourself useful for your abuser. you don't set aside the relationships with the children he had hurt and he had made you hurt to devote yourself fully to your damn abuser. someone take this poor woman out of this Stockholm syndrome relationship.

at this point Touya not being allowed to die is the worst offence, because the survival wasn't granted to him to heal. it was given to him for the singular purpose of making Endeavor look slightly less bad. Enji never even talks about failing to save Touya (and neither is Shouto allowed to). if you wanted to save him, then him being stuck immobile and isolated from the world with only months left to live is not 'the time Shouto gave us with him' it's a failure. he's not your damn pet, why is the narrative making him into one?

Touya had wanted to die. Shouto points this out, Touya himself talks about it. Enji was the one who didn't want him to die. he also didn't want to die himself. somehow, his desire is the only one that is fulfilled, while even Shouto's dream of eating soba with his older brother goes ignored.

and afterwards? Enji happily moves on from this with the new family he had found for himself, while Touya's childhood desire of his family looking at him is fulfilled in the most grotesque way possible. and the family's dream of having a home away from Endeavor? not a chance lmao

[skywalkr-nberrie]

No way I just saw an Anakin hater/Ewan/OW fan girl say that she’d “never forgive Padmé for choosing Anakin when OW was right there.” and even said how much it hurts that OW said he wishes he was “Leia’s” father so that means he was “in love with her” the whole time while he had to watch her be with Anakin.

Count on these antis to ignore batches of context to benefit their delusions.

1. Padmé didn’t care for OW, she didn’t choose him because she didn’t WANT him. She got the one she loved and desired. She won. Period.

(Side note: why do these weirdos pretend that Anakin/Hayden isn’t canonically and visibly super attractive? Or that OW/Ewan was unarguably more hotter than Anakin/Hayden?? Did you forget that “in universe” Anakin is canonically considered the “ladies man” and that’s actually acknowledged by OW twice? Once in the novel “Labyrinth of Evil” and again in Star Wars: The Clone Wars. I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this… fact is that A LOT of girls would prefer Anakin over OW and Padmé is one of those girls, as we see 😬

I know why I chose Anakin over OW when I was only 8, and so does my niece who’s 10. And I know there’s many more that’s just like us, lol. If they’d stop projecting for a minute, they’d realize how it actually makes perfect sense why Padmé chose Anakin and not OW whom she never considered as an option for her, and never would be, regardless.)

Yes and I know it’s hard for misogynists to grasp this, because how dare a woman choose her own life partner. But I was never one (a misogynist) to begin with, so I can’t agree 🤷🏾‍♀️ and don’t even try with the “if Star Wars was written by a female” argument that’s tossed around. Because it’s not like most of the people who ship Anidala aren’t female??

And please be real for once, what’s more female gaze? The young and beautiful heroine ending up with someone she met as a kid while he an adult, who’s much older too, or her ending up with the younger (closer to her age) Prince Charming she didn’t even know she was dreaming of? If the self projection wasn’t so insane from thirsting over Ewan, they wouldn’t actually spout this crap.

2. OW didn’t say he “wishes” he was Leia’s father, lmao. He tells her he wishes that he could SAY he was. The two hold tremendously different meanings from each other, especially when you’re not ignoring “context.” The false one implies that OW wishes he was actually the real father instead (like the antis assume) and the correct one implies that he wished he could tell Leia in that specific moment that he was. And why does OW say this?

Well, I’ll let Ewan explain:

As stated in the video, OW only said that because he wishes he could bring Leia closure for not being able to know her real dad, and in that moment she was hoping OW was him. No where is it ever implied this was because he’s always had “secret harboured feelings” for Padmé (whom was his surrogate son/brother’s wife.) In Ewan’s words: there isn’t “any more to it than that.” Even went as far as to subtly mention how if there was any validity to this “OW and Padmé” theory, George would’ve put that in the script, or would’ve told that story. Which we’re all well aware he didn’t do of any sort. (And I should mention that Anakin’s seeds of doubt and mistrust in the deleted ROTS concepts, doesn’t count. Those were all planted by Palpatine to bring him closer to the dark side. It was never real.) So? Case closed.

Now stop blaming Padmé for falling in love with Anakin and choosing him over the guy she canonically doesn’t have any interest in and didn’t have any interest in her.

P.S: OW canonically only loves Satine. Anyways, Anidala is the superior ship. Hence why they’re canon. Pack it up, and go home, folks!

[valtsv]

you said you grew up by the sea!! can i ask what the sea means to you? i am so emotional about the ocean i've always been so unspeakably fascinated and enamored by it

it's hard to describe because the ocean was such a constant presence that it was just kind of a part of life for me growing up. i didn't really realize how fortunate i was to have it so easily accessible until i lost it when i moved to the city.

i guess the best word to describe it would be "powerful". like i said, you could never forget that the ocean was There, even if you weren't standing anywhere near it. on days when the wind blew strongly enough in the right direction, you could hear it, and smell it. the smell of brine and seaweed was the backdrop of daily life for me growing up, and the town i grew up in was so small that whenever i left the house i was almost guaranteed to pass the ocean on my way to wherever i was going.

the danger of it was simultaneously something you quickly became desensitized to and something you never really forgot. there was always a part of you that knew that the sea could just take you at any time, no matter how careful you were. it wasn't uncommon to see a pile of flowers on the promenade as you walked by marking where someone had been washed out and drowned. pretty much everyone knew someone who had died despite the sea walls and warning signs. there were days when the waves were so strong that even the grey concrete walls that were several feet thick in the most reinforced places couldn't keep them from crashing over onto the walkways.

the beach was sand and stone, and the water was full of clouds of silt too thick to see through even with protective eyewear. you never knew how deep the water was beneath you unless your feet could touch the bottom, or what was down there. it was something you quickly got used to, the knowledge that you'd never be totally safe but were willing to take the risk. most people who got hurt or killed were, predictably, teenagers and young adults who decided to push the boundaries of how much of a risk they could take. i was one of those kids. most of us were. despite being all too aware of the danger, we never really believed that it would happen to us. at the same time, we knew we weren't immune. that's why we did it - for the thrill. i still have scars from all the times i was thrown against rocks and barnacles, stepped wrong while scrambling over rocks and slipped, or was scraped over the ocean floor. i still remember staggering and collapsing onto the shore with my heart pounding so hard my chest hurt after almost being swept out to sea, realizing how close i had come to being drowned or smashed to pieces. i remember shrugging it all off and heading back in five minutes later, accepting that the sea would take me if she wanted me and that there was nothing i could do about it, so i might as well enjoy myself.

knowing how to swim was basically mandatory, even if you never got in the water. if you could learn how to swim and didn't, you were a fool. the local swimming pool offered free lessons, and safety campaigns were a regular feature of school and community event. i could still recite some of the slogans and warnings to you now, they're so ingrained into my head (not that i didn't choose to ignore them sometimes).

small businesses thrived on the waterfront. there were so many cheap food places to choose from when you wanted a snack, from ice cream vendors to hot fried food vans to cafes and corner stores. people didn't even bother to put their clothes and shoes on over their swimwear to cross the road and grab a bite to eat on warm summer days.

body and gender neutrality was extremely normalized. nobody cared who you were or what you looked like; once you were in the sea the clouds of silt hid your body from view, and the water made everyone look more or less the same - like a sopping wet beast.

the natural environment was incredible. there was so much life everywhere - sea plants, crabs and smaller crustaceans, seabirds and fish. you could buy fresh catches each morning from local fishermen. sharks and seals were a rare novelty, a community event of sorts.

community events often made use of the seaside. sailing was easily accessible; even if you couldn't afford your own boat, there was a sailing club with a surplus. the local horse rescue volunteer association i worked at took the horses down to ride by the beach and in the water in summertime, and it was some of the most fun i ever had galloping through the waves, soaking wet and shivering with excitement and cold. there were bonfires on the beach in the fall, and fireworks and hot drinks and stories around the fireside in the winter. it was an incredibly, terrifyingly free place to live, where the only real limits were your own. i honestly can't do it justice in words. i miss it every day.

[acewritesfics]

Her Vampire | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Hunter!Reader 

Request: From narcolepticpeaches.

Warnings: mentions vampire stuff and murder.

Word Count: 847

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A rustling noise is heard behind Y/N, followed by the sound of steel hitting steel, startling her. In the disgustingly scorching summer heat, a refreshing gust of wind blows by her, causing goosebumps to cover her skin.  

She turns around to head back inside but is once more startled to see someone standing there under the lamp that hung over the back door. When she realizes who is standing there, her startled expression changes to a scowl.  

“What the hell, Munson? Why do you insist on scaring the crap out of me every time?”  

“It’s fun,” her stare intensifies as he shrugs his shoulders with a cheeky smile on his lips. “Relax, you know I won’t let you get hurt.” The way he says it and looks at her makes her blush and turn away from him. “Don’t go shy on me, sweetheart.” 

“I’m not shy,” she says, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red as she rolls her eyes at his taunting. “How come you’re here? Isn’t tonight your "busy” night?“  

He gives her a charming, innocent smile while looking at her with his deep brown eyes that are doe-like. This is the same expression that convinced her that there is still a part of him that is human. "I got done early and I wanted to come see my favorite girl.”  

“I’m your only girl,” she points out, making the vampire chuckle knowing she’s right. His already small friendship circle shrank even further after he was turned. 

Before she went looking for him one night a year ago, Eddie and Y/N were never friends. She found herself ignoring her many years of training and principles because she was unable to pierce his heart, and he could never bring himself to hurt her in any way. Instead, the two forged a partnership that resulted in a friendship neither of them anticipated and an unbreakable bond. She had defied her hunter family by choosing Eddie over them. It was now them vs. the rest of the world.  

She blushes once more as he says, “That may be true, but even if I did have other girls in my undead life, you’d still be my favorite.”  

She tries to ignore the heat in her cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach as she faces him again as she tries to compose herself, “Enough with the flattery, Munson. Is there any reason why you’re here other than to annoy me?” 

“You are aware of the recent deaths that have occurred in the past two weeks,” he inquires.   

Y/N nods as she contemplates the four murder victims, who had their bodies mutilated and blood drained. She believes it’s a vampire, but all of her leads have come up empty. She failed to find any evidence of the vampire. “You’re sure it’s a vampire?”  

“Unless you want to believe the newest rumor going around town,” he scoffs. 

Everyone has been talking about Eddie being back in Hawkins, going on another killing rampage in the small town since the first body was discovered. Even though the way the bodies were discovered was different to Vecna’s victims, the victims weren’t high school kids and they were all a certain type - female, between the ages of 25-35, married, 2 kids, petite, black hair, green eyes and pale skin.  

She was aware that neither the original murders nor the most recent killings were committed by Eddie. He had explained to her how he was turned, including everything that went down with Vecna.  Never once did she doubt his innocence. She likes to think she knows him well enough to know he wouldn’t kill somebody unless absolutely necessary. 

“You know I don’t listen to local gossip,” she responds. “Have you discovered anything about this vampire? I’ve tried to find him but I’ve come up empty.”  

“I know where he’s staying,” he informs her.  

“And you haven’t dealt with him yet?” she says a little surprised. It was common for Eddie to deal with murder spree serial killer vampires that tortured their victims on his own.  

“I figured you would like to take this one,” he replies.  

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asks as she walks past him to return to her trailer.  

“Hold on,” he murmured, grasping her hand, his icy cold skin sending chills down her spine, but not in a bad way. He must have heard her heart skip a beat because of the way his eyes dart from her face to her chest. Her cheeks are red again.  

“We-we should go,” she stutters. Her breath catches as he  glides his hand up her arm, delicately stroking her flesh. She can feel and hear the pounding of her heart, which is beating a million miles per minute. She glances away from him in an attempt to regulate her breathing and heartbeat. 

“He’s not going away; I’ve immobilized him for a few hours,” he lets her know. “We’ve got time.”  

“It’s time for what?” She asks, perplexed. He smiles as he lowers his head and kisses her for the first time. 

[lighthouseas]

okay i love the wheelers. so much. i want to make that very clear. but i feel like it was VERY much intentional that we can compare their family dynamic to the byers family dynamic and see the sheer differences between them.

the wheelers are clearly very well off, with little to no communication within the family; while the byers are poor and are very close with good communication.

nancy and mike interact very little onscreen, and when they do, they’re usually arguing.  not that that’s abnormal for siblings - it’s not - but when you compare that to will, jonathan, and el’s relationship? hm.

will, jonathan, and el have interacted a lot together onscreen.  mike, nancy, and holly almost never do. i think there’s like. 1 instance in s2 where mike talks to holly, and that’s it.

additionally, there’s also very little physical affection between the wheeler siblings; we LITERALLY see, at the end of s4, joyce hugging her sons while nancy and mike stand and...watch?? now, before you come after me, i’m not saying they don’t care about each other - they do.  but they’ve clearly grown accustomed to just. not being affectionate, and hmmm smth smth conformity smth smth lying smth smth trying to look as normal as possible - 

joyce is hardworking, determined, and very aware of what’s going on with the ud.  while yes, this is mainly due to will going missing in s1, karen could’ve also easily figured out what is going on (hell, her son literally hid a child in the basement for a week) but she didn’t.  she consciously ignored it - i say consciously because in s3, holly was pointing out the trees very obviously moving and karen just told her to “look at the fireworks”.  which begs the question - does karen actually know some of what’s going on, but is just choosing to ignore it? if this is true, in s5, karen is going to be forced to become aware of the ud, because it’s quite literally destroying her hometown.

we’ve also seen joyce act affectionate towards her kids; hugging them, kissing their heads, etc etc. when have we seen karen do that? VERY little, especially in later seasons.  i think the most emotional we’ve seen her get is with nancy in s3, after nancy gets fired (that whole scene honestly had a lot to unpack about karen’s character, which i will maybe make another post about).

bottom line: just. the fact that these two families pop up the most in the series is SO telling.  we are meant to compare them. we are meant to notice the very obvious differences in their dynamics and how it affects nancy, mike, and karen in particular.  and something tells me this is going to come into play in s5.  wheelers i am keeping you in a little terrarium and watching you scurry around

[eeblouissant]

Unorganized (angsty? Also unedited) Dorothy thoughts I wrote down on the train this morning :)

- Dorothy seemed much more passive before the divorce, & regardless I headcanon her being that way (until Stan effectively destroyed it). She was unhappy & then became very depressed through being married to him, I think she coped by disassociating whether she was aware of it or not. I don’t think Dorothy remembers a lot of her time with Stan (not her kids, Never her children. she’s separated Stan from them for a long time now) simply because she wasn’t there mentally - she chose not to be. We see (or, at least I do) a drastic shift in the way she behaves around Stanley even when she’s in a room with Blanche, Rose & Sophia. Some of the only people she feels like she doesn’t need to “disappear on” in order to tolerate. Her pessimism was a result of Stanley (specifically before & during the divorce, it was a painfully slow process.) & she uses it as a defence mechanism, or a safety blanket. I like to think that she wasn’t that way growing up, even the opposite.

- Dorothy is Very good at tuning out. If she doesn’t want to pay attention to you, she won’t. And you’ll never know the difference. (I saw a mutual mention her also just straight up taking out her hearing aid, so, she also definitely does that lmao– poor Rose gets the most of it)

- Anyone who’s spoken to Dorothy since the divorce, & knew her before it happened, especially before Stan – will tell you that she is Not how they remember her to be. And I think this is why so many of the people around her (besides the Obvious Reasons to hate him) have immediately taken to disliking Stan, the damage is so visible & absolutely undeniable that it would be impossible not to have something against him, no matter what role they might play in Dorothy’s life. Sophia would obviously harbour the most resentment, next to Dorothy. I don’t think Dorothy has been able to grasp just how badly Stan hurt her yet & I believe that is partly another choice she’s made. That &, she doesn’t remember much about who she was before anymore, anyway. It would just depress her to try & uncover.

- Side note on that last point, Blanche & Rose have definitely not believed Dorothy whenever she might have shown them old photos of her. Jaw drop moment for sure. & of course cursed Stan to all hell – I think Blanche would have gotten a little emotional. As much as she’d want to poke fun for a laugh I don’t think she’d have been able to bring herself to. She recognizes how tragic what happened to Dorothy is & was immediately. Not to say that Rose wouldn’t.

- I love love picking apart the ways Dorothy’s changed, the drastic change in how she chooses to dress (ignoring trends, & all that, just for a second) has always been interesting to me. We see a younger version of Dorothy in clothing that hugs her figure & creates an explicitly, traditionally, feminine silhouette. While after Stan dumps her, she’s begun leaning towards a style that could at times be considered more masculine. Especially in the new silhouette she’s created. This could for sure just be me reaching. I like to compare her to Rose, though, who still dresses in styles Very reminiscent of the 50s’. I’ve talked about Rose dressing the way she does because of Charlie before but I’ll address it here again, because Blanche is also very similar here. They never really changed because they never felt a need to, it’s obvious that Dorothy felt the need to do something. (brought on through insecurities, Stan, her own mental health, the list goes on. She needed to match the outside to the inside because she didn’t feel like that same passive person she was once. Imposter syndrome … question mark? Just a touch, perhaps.)

[medaart]

About My Tav: Bernadine the Half-Elf Druid (Part 1)

Bernadine "Bernie, Bunny" Schwartz

Half Wood Elf

Circle of The Moon Druid

She/Her

Bisexual/Biromantic

Neutral Good-ish?

Romancing Astarion

Original meme by @for-tymora, for the @tav-dex if they're interested!

-----

What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Bernadine is Russian for "bear", and she's a Circle of the Moon Druid! It's actually a happy coincidence. She's an OC I've taken from fandom to fandom and used in other RP's-- first Team Fortress 2 (she was a RED Medic), then Pathfinder (she was an Alchemist/Chiurgeon). I always give her a class with healing capabilities as a nod to where she began, and Alchemist wasn't available in BG3, with Druid having the closest skill set to it.

Does your Tav have a last name? Is there a meaning behind it?

Schwartz, German for "black". She was a mad scientist in her first incarnation, and I've kept some of those aspects in her later incarnations (as a Druid, she has a soft spot for spiders & bats, thinking they're important parts of the ecosystem, & she knows how to craft/recognize various poisons.

What is your Tav’s go-to comfort food?

I don't know if the lore is the same in D&D as it is for Pathfinder, but in Pathfinder, Wood Elves are typically vegetarians. But Bernadine is pragmatic, and I'd imagine (if BG3 would let me) she'd Wild Shape into bear form and catch venison and fish for the team if they were low on camp supplies.

She has a sweet tooth (her eyes light up at the mention of pastries), and likes a good mug of Dwarven mead, too.

Does your Tav have any tattoos or scars? Why?

Her hands are lightly scarred from playing with her dad's chemistry set when she was a kid-- the same accident that bleached a lock of her hair.

What is your Tav’s main color palette? Why do they choose those colors?

Green/Gold/Brown, since she lives in the forest. She's not super religious, but reveres the Oakfather and the idea of all species being integral to the ecosystem (including vampires).

Where are they from? What was home like?

[tw: bullying] She was born in the Evereska/Forgotten Forest area to a Human mother and a Wood Elf father, but moved to Baldur's Gate because of her fathers' alchemical job. She went to school there and lived there her entire life, never really fitting in at school (between being socially awkward and having weird interests, like creepy-crawly animals and gross plants). She had no friends, and was bullied relentlessly by a small group of kids. The other kids were too afraid to stand up for her, and she could never understand why the bullies hated her so much. She tried ignoring them, bargaining with them, offering them home-made potions as a bribe, nothing worked. One day, she snapped. She'd been studying Druidic magic in private, Wild Shaped into a cat, and clawed the ringleader of the bullies in the face. This only made her reputation worse, and her parents (who did love her, and were not bad people) didn't get why she couldn't "just get along" with the other kids. Bernadine wasn't sure how to make other people like her. She wasn't intentionally malicious or anything, but she felt like she had no one to turn to. So she kept Wild Shaping as an excuse to just be by herself, until one day she was grabbed by an errant Mind Flayer. I wanted to write her as a person who wasn't entirely comfortable being the main character, would prefer to be a background NPC who lets someone else take charge, and is struggling with that.

She's still in the part of her trauma where she sees herself as the villain of her own story on a redemption arc to not treat others like she was treated. She's still trying to figure out what she "did wrong" or "did to deserve" being ostracized, while being very aware nobody else in her party deserved their treatment. If she were an NPC, ironically, I'm not sure how her plot line would work in a video game, as her struggle is very internal. She'd get along with Dark Urge in some respects if they were to ever meet, I think.

Is your Tav more likely to fight/flight/freeze/fawn?

She's very much a freeze. Social situations are not her forte, which is why she admires Astarion, and wants to emulate his positive traits, as much as she loves him. Before she really knew him, her idea of him was this very cool, debonair person who was never nervous around people-- which got shattered very quickly. She pursued him thinking he was her opposite, everything she wanted to be, only for them to truly bond because of their similarities, ironically enough.

What do they do for fun, when not adventuring? What are their hobbies?

She wants the kind of house Thom Yorke sings about in "No Surprises"-- a little house with a little garden. Just a place to plant herbs, with a table for her chemistry set. A place to read all the books she's hoarded. In her "main canon", she had a dog and a horse, and I'd imagine she'd be a doting pet mama here too (and/or maybe an actual mom, depending on whether Astarion is willing to adopt).

Do they have any enemies outside of the main plot? Any friends?

I'm not sure if I'd even count her childhood bullies as enemies, per se. They may have even forgotten Bernadine ever existed, and moved onto being shitheads to other people in their lives. The only way Bernadine would take revenge on them is if they became Cazador-level abusive shitheads that had moved beyond just namecalling and punching other kids in the face.

Where/with whom do they feel safest?

Astarion, weirdly enough-- he had all these chances to stab or rob her, and didn't, and that earned her respect in a way. She cares about the whole team, and while Astarion is the only one she has romantic/sexual feelings for, she has strong platonic, protective feelings for everyone else. Maybe Gale and Shadowheart, since Shadowheart/Gale/Astarion (aka the Shadow Wizard Money Gang) are my typical party.

What is their MBTI Type?

She's very much an INFP. Mom friend who bottles up her own worries, trying to fix other peoples' problems and putting her own on the side until they explode.

[leastdatablebracket]

ROUND 1, MATCH 53

Propaganda under the cut!

Baxter Ward

That Boy Needs Therapy

He ghosts you after the end of step 3, even if you try and date him.

look i love my boy, but baxter literally dumps you outside of your childhood home, shuts the door in your face even if you’re sobbing in the middle of the street, and then ghosts you for five years and then pretends he doesn’t care about you when you meet again. this is even if he’s aware that he’s your first love (if you chose to make him that). he literally says that you have bad taste in men if you choose to date him again before you’ve talked anything over shshhshssbb. love him but he needs a therapist waaaaayyyyy more than he needs a partner.

Ryouta Kazama

ok so i havent actually seen all of his route cause the game's only available in japanese and the streamer i watched play the game switched to a different guy like halfway through the game n i seriously doubt anyone else is gonna submit him i just need someone else to know about this so! ryouta and the player character (doesnt have a canon name but is given the nickname of marii by the two girl friends) were friends in kindergarten with ryouta having a very blatant crush on her n wished on a pinwheel for them to get married when theyre older he then moves to england as soon as he gets old and he n marii dont interact at all until nine years later when he comes back for high school and is still very blatantly down bad for a girl he last talked to when they were six but has spent the last nine years still thinking about (theres something in the game you can unlock called adv events where you get the love interests pov on moments in their lives and one of ryouta's reveals that even though he couldve he never sent marii any letters but very much did spend all those years thinking about her) n a lot of his interactions with marii are weird n circle back to him being obsessed with them being friends as kids and like a first it just kind of seems like oh he hasnt gotten over his puppy love yet lol but it is kind of like acknowledged that this is a weird thing in game as if marii gets his gift in the christmas exchange ryouta will say something about it being fate n marii pointedly ignores that n is like wow what a coincidence that we got eachother's gifts (not in an oblivious heroine way btw ryouta's straight up is like oh ok ur ignoring what i said) n he treats her like shes naive n completely innocent which like marii is cause shes a mostly blank slate otome heroine but its still noteworthy as being weird due to his aforementioned memorialization of them being friends in kindergarten n that none of the other love interests really treat marii that way or really make note of those being notable traits of hers that often while its something ryouta does frequently anyway so the moment that made my thoughts on ryouta switch from "lol hes kind of weird" to "i want to study him like a bug" is that His Bedroom Is The Exact Same As It Was When He Was A Six Year Old Child In Kindergarten And Hes Keeping It That Way On Purpose like genuinely thats immediately read to me as horror movie shit imagine reuniting with a childhood friend of urs who keeps bringing up stuff you did as kids (that you dont really remember cause you were like six n are now in high school) n making comments about how naive and easy to read you are n gets weirdly jealous about other guys being buddy buddy with you and then like a year or so after hes moved back n you've becomed friends again he invites you to hang out at his house so you go over and then His Room Looks Like It Belongs To A Six Year Old and hes telling you about how his room hasnt been altered (beyond cleaning) at all since he left n since hes come back hes chosen to keep it exactly the same n hes telling you this like its a reasonable thing literally what the fuck also while ryouta is the posterboy childhood friend love interest of this game theres another love interest who was both ryouta n marii's childhood friend and you'll never believe this he treats her like a normal person and is just a normal guy who barely remembers being friends in kindergarten and him n marii only learn that theyre childhood friends cause of ryouta being mildly exasperated that neither of them really remembers them being a trio when they were six theres definitely like worse love interests i could submit from this series (like the teachers n one of the three secret love interests in the second game whos route is just straight up him emotionally abusing the heroine) but im submitting ryouta cause his reasons for sucking as a romantic partner are bizarre n live rent free in my mind

[rvivifies]

BAMBI JAMES

◟✧⡀ ( ella purnell. cis women. she/her. ) … there’s a figure off in the distance, do you see it? wait is  that … BEATRICE “BAMBI” JAMES ? how long have they been standing there? if that’s really them, i  believe they're 26.  do i know them?  no, but i hear they're SILLY and LIVELY, but  also NAIVE and IMPATIENT. i do know that they’ve been in the City for FOUR MONTHS. it’s crazy  that they’re just standing there … shouldn’t they be working at POISON APPLE as  a DANCER ? maybe they’re off today, i couldn’t tell you. hope they get moving soon. hey, do you  think they’re aware of the strange people around here?

quick facts

doe-eyed with a light smile, bambi exudes youthful naivete. she seems like someone who hasn't had much hard life experience (untrue) and seems like someone who just wants to enjoy life while she can. she shows up, never black or blue, just rose-colored.

while she is observant to an extent, it is a pointed decision to ignore heavy things (like phone calls from family or news of an accident). it's easier that way — why? because deep down she knows her heart is fragile, rusted, a few more rainstorms from shattering. it's desperate and hopeful choosing to be deaf and blind to the world.

she craves enjoyment. it's restless. it's going one hundred miles on the highway, hands out the sunroof. it's staying up for days on end, not sleeping because she's scared of missing something. stop signs and traffic signals exist for a reason, and she's running out of time to notice.

her fave color is glitter

bio

listen i'm working on it

tl;dr: bambi was the youngest of six kids. her parents were over it by that point. she became self-sufficient. dancing pays the bill and she knows she's hot.

once she figured out being jaded and callous was exhausting, she figured out how to let go of it. it was easy being soft, easy avoiding heavy things. whether it's naivete or ignorance isn't always an easy thing for others to determine, but bambi knows the truth.

anyways she's radiant. she exudes warmth. 10/10 sunshine

[kenromewound]

I think Logan wants Roman in relationships to get over (what Logan perceives as) his weirdness (I don't think he feels guilty about that, like the father in Festen who also told Christian off because he was unable to consummate with women, but he's definitely aware of it since Roman was little -to add to this, imo Logan never molested Roman or any of his kids but it's iffy, the show clearly wants you to consider it-) and to give him grandchildren, whereas Kendall is useless for him in relationships because he's not fertile and, grandchildren ruled out, he wants him knocked down a peg or two to show him who's the boss in the company and the family, so he doesn't want him flaunting his masculinity and getting all happy and big-headed.

Though maybe he doesn't care that much either way and it's optics because he didn't ask Roman about Tabitha until the dick pic happened, and Ken was married for years and sure, Logan must have been overbearing but Ken was problematic as a husband and as a father. Then there's Naomi Pierce who was a member of a rival family, he obviously hated that... Very Romeo and Juliet of them lol.

Jennifer was considered a bimbo, just someone to have fun with, because she wasn't educated enough and she was nobody. While Roman had Logan in mind when choosing his girlfriend, Kendall didn't.

In any case, he wanted the power to decide over his kids' lives. It's all very narcissistic dad keeping control of his kids to make sure none of them believe they're better than him or can replace him before it's time, and Kendall was much more dangerous than Roman, who never wanted the power in the first place (no exhibition of independence anywhere to be seen, no dominating stance, no real aspirations no take over Logan). Besides, per the show itself and the scripts, Kendall is a narcissist too and Roman has BPD and he's clearly codependent, which tells you a lot about how they all relate to each other too.

Shiv's case is a bit different. Knowing her chauvinistic family would never take her seriously she decided to defy her control-freak, conservative dad by pursuing a career in progressive politics, but she was baited back by being included in the company (which meant being empowered in the family) and then she was kept down by being ignored again, treated like a token item, etc.

Connor doesn't even count because he has no active associations with Waystar and he's an obedient son.

Logan was nothing if not somebody who knew how to play the game. There could only be an alpha dog in his company/family, and if you wanted to be one, you had to take him out or leave.

[fluffbeast7]

My perspective on my routine recently, but putting emphasis on my perspective on getting home. Because iii... want to! (All of this are real experiences, it gets more detailed as it progresses, i just really wanted to write this, for some reason)

-Wake up early

-Prepare for school

-oh god oh no backpack heavy uugh hungry aaarg

- bye bye kappa (my turtle)

-family car time go go go

-iz in school, this sucks. But its my last year so we push through. Adhd got me jingling my pencil with a bell on it, jingle jingle jingle!!

-school ends, now goin home

- first bus stop, hard to get to because i live in a city with so many hills- ouch my back. But we ignore that because songs be bangin

- plus, great time to look at every corner and up to the skies while i walk my way to the bus stop, maybe we see cool bug, there is a spider i always spy on to see how they are doing- rats, and birbs. But sometimes cars almost run over me, because i am distracted, oops.

- now wait for the bus, doesn't take that long, so i watch the pigeons and, i watch every person that walks by, everyone that i see is different, with different features, different moods, sometimes i see people laughing, sometimes i see people cry. not a single one is the same. Sometimes i see the same people, mostly because they work there or take that bus frequently

- i watch as the old man who seems to be blind walk around with cultural clothes from where i live, playing songs very loud. I watch as a kid passes by me with clothing with what it looks like to be japonese writing. I hear people speak in different languages, sometimes i cant recognize what language. different kinds of hairstyles.. some are playing games on their phone, some looking at me and-

-oop! Bus arrived, i prepare and take my card and bring my backpack with my hand, because it just feels better this way

- i see many people entering, i have 2 spots i always take, avoiding sitting down, too many people, kids, older ones, i never know who might need a chair better than me, i am happy to stand, because if i find my spot, everything will be fine

- i choose a song without lyrics and now i am reading a fanfic, the one i have been reading recently is "i see you, sundrop!" And i smile in the bus every time the scene delights me, and i frown when something suprises me, but only a little.

- i still see the activity on the bus, people who work at the mall, young adults talking about their first job, teenagers talking about their grades, couples flirting,, a person asking for money, a guy who happily hops and sings out loud a love song, and everyone looks at him. Teenagers in front of me look at each other and giggle, saying "i wish i was as happy as that guy!"

- now i arrived at the bus station, where i wait for my other bus to arrive. The bus station is where i try to avoid sleeping the most, i go there everyday but you never know the people you encounter (i will never forget the drunk person screaming at everyone, he even got hit by another guy)

- i walk to my spot and i see the same people selling the same things, this guy comes up to me, and tries to sell me a snack, i tell him no, i don't have money.

- i open up the fic on my phone, i am very aware a woman is looking at what i am reading, and i continue reading, even if she might read English. Because i wonder what she will think if she picks up that im reading about robots

- i see a person with multiple LGBTQ pins on their purse, good for them! I see someone reading a book, i see people asking what's the best bus to pick.

- i am invested on my reading, gosh darn this chapter is good-

- bus arrived, i take it, this time not many people take it, so i can sit down without a worry

-the bus has trash on the ground, i ignore it. I continue reading

- i look at the window, hey look! What animal is that? Looks like a reptile, that big, In the city? Wow, unfortunately, i didn't take a picture of that

- i wait till i can press the button, me and a lady come out, i almost fall in a hole, but i continue walking. i can't read while walking, so i change my music to something upbeat, i will be walking for a little bit so i jam to maybe 2 songs.

-i am already very tired, so i don't observe things just as easily- i finally reach my appartment, walking those long stairs and- shit its there that i realize how much my back is hurting

- i get home, change my uniform and pass out in my bed. Oof.

-the rest of the day is always different, but i eat, i giv kappa food, and thats it :)

[wemlygust]

I choose to the believe that "chaos ensues" in this case means the Jon and Damian absolutely losing their minds, in a scared but also simultaneously happy kind of confusing way. And Ma & Pa Kent are ALSO losing their minds; maybe one is swearing who never swears, and they're both kinda caught between "WHAT" and "PANIC" and sort of "this glowing kid looks eldritch and scary in a way we don't recognize (glowy ice crown, maybe yeti horns, hazmat suit (maybe upgraded or armored but still kinda plastic-y hazmat looking), and with a cloak that is a hole into outer space) and we just summoned him out of nowhere into our house and none of us are armed, but they also aren't.... actually... doing anything? Maybe? It's... fine? I guess?" Maybe Ma and Pa, after freezing up and going bug-eyed for a moment, each land on opposite and conflicting decisions. Ma yanks a rifle out of the closet (Pa didn't even know it was there so now that's added to this situation for him) and makes threats, while Pa simultaneously has started panic-deploying his southern hospitality we-have-a-guest script, but it comes out scrambled and fast and with tone all over the place. Something like "Hello! So sorry to disturb you, thanks for dropping in, uh. Can I... offer you a cookie and milk? Or uh-" and he stalls out 'cause he was gonna ask if he could take Danny's coat, but Danny's coat is space, so he's not sure he even could take it or put it on the hook. Danny is enthusiastically accepting the cookie, while also trying to double task to listen to Jon and Damian, while completely 100% ignoring the rifle and threats, and the sword that Damian pulled out at some point and now is just half-heartedly holding. And Clark walks in at this point with no context for any of it. He's very much thrown, but because this is chaotic but not violent he's not attacking or being aggressive. Just very confused and doesn't know what to do either. Is it funnier if Danny also was pulled out of a Situation, so as to make his experience of this as funny as possible? Or maybe he was just asleep, or nodding off over some homework he didn't want to be doing anyway. Or maybe he was in the middle of stealing something from catwoman's apartment (to return to its ghostly rightful owner) and he was juuuust totally about to get away with it when Catwoman caught him, and before she could even do anything the summoning yoinked him out of her living room and also forced him to drop whatever he'd been stealing. So a ghost thief just vanished in front of Catwoman. Also, the summoning accidentally snared one of Catwoman's cats. The cat is hanging out at Danny's feet and it's all puffed up and spooked, but so much is going on nobody's noticed this yet. And none of them know Catwoman well enough to recognize her misplaced cat, either. p.s. cats can totally see ghosts. Catwoman knows this because Deadman. She is both jelly of and admiring of the cats for this, probably. And maybe she's more aware of ghosts as a concept than most because this has made her think about them. So Catwoman, seeking her lost cat and the audacious thief, goes on a crusade, blackmails, kidnaps, or bribes Constantine and Deadman into helping (Deadman tries to be helpful but isn't), discovers the GIW, and tears it the fuck to pieces.

Meanwhile, back in the foreground, happy Kent family holiday times! :D Everyone is much calmer now. Suddenly all of it is hilarious. Danny is automatically one of them now. That's the rule. You summon an eldritch nightmare child, you gotta keep it. Just like alien children. It's just how it is. No you are NOT leaving yet, you are having a second helping of chili. Why don't you stay the night? Do you sleep? Stay the night even if you don't. Also here have a third helping, I insist. And then dessert after. We have accidentally kidnapped a child, then we intentionally threatened him with a rifle, and we need to apologize but also we can't let you just wander off alone into the darkness without even a map. I'll go look for the map. Here's a fourth helping. Eat. Where are you from? They are casually assuming they will have the needed map, but they have an alien child with friends in space, and magic friends, and Ma Kent collects maps. Including. Space maps! And the space maps (which take a variety of forms, from flat on paper, to plastic-y film you scrunch up to put away, or 3D models) are not available on cell phones, so it's gotta be the physical maps for maybe-alien glowy kid. Ma Kent walks into the attic full of space maps, and Catwoman bursts through the window looking like the hero at the end of Die Hard. Just dramatically beat up and bloody and looking like she's been through a war and is still mad. She has abandoned subtlty after dealing with the GIW (and Constantine) for weeks. It's been weeks for her because, idk, she grappled Vlad and yanked them both into lazarus pit, and a panicking Constantine sent them both back in time accidentally while rescuing them. Also they both have pit rage now, so that'll be something. Maybe they have a whole time travel adventure together in, like, 1920's, somehow actually sunny summer Gotham, before they manage to get back. But they're back like a month or two before they left, so actually there are two Catwomans and Constantines running around at this moment. Two of them are just now starting to wreck the GIW with prejudice and rescue some ghosts (there are ghost cats in those labs, even! save the ghost cats! Do cats have nine deaths, too?). Constantine is also in space summoning the Justice League to yell at them about Amity Park and the Anti-Ecto Acts. And Catwoman is in Ma Kent's attic of space maps. Ma Kent, having exhausted her ability to be surprised, offers her milk and cookies, and in a sudden stroke of inspiration, asks if the cat is hers. The cat's fine, by the way. Very calm now and enjoying lots of pets and apology cheese and cuddles. Now it's a holiday episode also featuring time-traveling Catwoman with pit rage who just solved Danny's biggest problem.

The Bats are baffled…

Lately, according to the latest reports, the kidnapping of clowns has been skyrocketing throughout the country… although in one or two days, they usually reappear, of course without remembering anything about what happened or without wanting to talk about the subject, the reports have not been clear at the moment.

And while this is happening, the assaults on government facilities have been on a constant increase… but curiously only one department has been affected, the apparent supernatural investigation department of the USA…

And you might wonder what kind of relationship these two have? Because until an hour ago these two things were not related at all and have been investigated separately…

But everything changed when the Joker disappeared from his cell…

And contrary to the normal situation, the Joker did not escape, he was kidnapped from Arkham by an extraction group, who according to the videos, used gas to put him to sleep in the cell and proceeded to tie the clown up with questionable articles of leather and black latex (Jason will never see red balls in a normal way)….

And when the Bats managed to find him….

It was in the middle of a sacrificial altar as an offering along with spaceships, hamburgers and milkshakes, all of this on a bonfire where they were burning Christmas decorations and classified government papers, while a group of galaxy-robed cultists are singing a Latin version of a modern pop/rock song….

What the hell is going on?

[thaunknowndreadhead]

My situation is literally when someone knows or realizes too much... hyper awareness. Then when I try to shine light on certain things that certain people aren't aware of, it's like they cut me off or call me crazy; when I'm simply opening, or trying to open, their eyes about well known patterns and things in the world. They still choose to ignore it instead of realizing that truth and preparing. This isn't about "religion". This is however about factual things happening in our world and happening around us and happening to us that reflect in scripture that was written thousands of years ago. But the people who claim to love me ostracize me. They do not and will not listen. I don't go about preaching to them in a chastising way either. I simply inform them, or try to inform them, and they don't and won't listen; if anything they ignore me and label me crazy. That's what I meant by there is no real love here on Earth. It really isn't. Only God is the one that truly loves and listens and cares. God will never forsake or ostracize you. Only if you aren't faithful then will God have absence. God has the ability and power to truly forgive and forget your transgressions as long as you keep faithful.

I didn't understand what was happening to me for YEARS. I was self-harming and having thoughts that I hated and didn't agree with. I was having issues of loneliness of not wanting to be alone and yet, when people (or other kids when I was a kid) would try to invite themselves into my life, I would always push myself away. I never truly fit in ANYWHERE WITH ANYBODY. But I understand now that it's not because I'm better than anyone or anything like that, but I am chosen and what I mean by that is that I am the only deep thinker around me and not one else ever resonates with me. I say that in the least boastful way possible. I'm not here to boast. But it's something I just really notice, on top of the fact that no one can connect with what I'm going through, I'm single, no children, always been alone truly, always have been attacked spiritually; whether it was seeing things as a child or even as an adult, whether it was being forced to do sexual things when I was younger or whether it was my dad humiliating me or beating me, or whether it was constant bullying and being an outcast by cousins or school friends, whether it was my uncle who constantly got away with bullying or hurting me or whether it was having confused thoughts that I didn't understand. I FORGIVE ALL OF IT🙏. It hurt me, alot of it lead me to a crippling porn addiction, which lead me to turn against myself even more by suicide attempts cutting myself and in recent past years a major sudden, UNEXPECTED, drug addiction🤔😳. It still baffles me because anyone who knows me, drugs were NEVER and were always the furthest thing from anything I ever wanted to deal with. I feel like this all occurred because not only was I not in touch with God earlier on and consistently, but God was calling me and I never gave God the focus that I should have. I'm an only child and barely survived, a premature child. My mother and I almost passed away while she was in labor, She CANNOT have anymore children, I stayed sick as a child, my mother has had constant health issues ever since I was born. With all of this it can't be ignored. I survived alot of deadly suicide attempts. Someone, SOMETHING, wants me here alive for a purpose. I give that up to God. God kept me here and alive for a reason. I can't ignore that. There are many others like me that are HEAVILY tested. I'm not saying that I'm special or better than anyone else. But I do believe, along with MANY others, I am chosen. God bless, and just know, if you feel alone it's because God chose you to be alone and is preparing you. I'm here to listen as well. I WILL NOT JUDGE YOU. I understand the greatly misunderstood. Feel free to talk to me if you feel no one in the world will listen. No matter what it is. God bless

[staytheword]

falling rain

falling rain — one shot [ back to general masterlist ]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• bang chan x female reader, other stray kids members are mentioned/featured, as well as other idols (itzy’s yeji, ateez’s san, nmixx's lily).

• non idol au, friends to lovers. angst, fluff, post breakup sadness and melancholia. drinking. explicit language. smut, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex.

• word count: 11k (11,199)

You fell out of love. It happens. All you need is time to piece yourself back together. But as you and your friends meet for a movie night, you don’t expect your ex to be there - yet he is, and it looks like he’s doing much better than you do. Luckily, your friends are there for you - especially Chan.

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior​ ; @upallnight-s​ ; @changbinluvr​ ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan

• story taglist: @tanyas97 ; @hyynee ; @moonlightcandy00 ; @drhsthl ; @flakeisthebest

• author’s note: Here it is! Thank you for your support on the preview, I am so glad you guys liked it and were excited for the full story. I hope you enjoy it! Take care <3

The rain is cold against your skin. 

You look up at the sky through your transparent umbrella. Swirls of pale gray cover the horizon, blurred by drops of rain sliding down the plastic material. It was darker earlier - the rain will stop soon. 

The bus stops in front of you, its brakes squeaking. You close your umbrella and get on, sitting where you usually do, at the back, next to the window. Placed between your legs, your umbrella is getting your jeans wet, but you don’t care. You close your eyes, letting the music in your ears soothe you. You’ve been taking the same bus route everyday for years, so you know exactly how much time you have before your stop. It’s not like you’re afraid of falling asleep, anyway. You never sleep in transportation, and it’s not like your mind has been able to rest easy recently. 

Your playlist transports you through melancholic melodies, pianos and violins lulling your senses. Your favorite songs do not let you forget the ache - they remind you of it, softly, tenderly. That’s what you want, anyway. 

You’re not interested in forgetting. You just want to heal.

When you open your eyes, your stop is a minute away. You press the button and get up, ignoring the inevitable looks of the other passengers on the bus. People are always staring. Always judging. Often, you care. These days, not so much. You can’t control them, what they do, what they think. They’ll see the shadows under your eyes, the pale skin, the chapped lips, and they’ll tell yourselves, she isn’t sleeping much. She looks terrible. She must be going through something. 

So what if I am, you want to tell them? Aren’t we all? 

When you step off the bus, it’s barely raining anymore and you decide not to open your umbrella. You let the rain slide through your hair, against your hands. You’re so cold but you’re used to it. You haven’t been able to warm up in a while. The rain feels good, actually. It makes you aware of your body, of your skin. As you walk towards your apartment building, you tilt your head backwards and let the rain fall down your cheeks like tears. 

Daylight has almost vanished when you unlock your apartment door, and you step inside with a sigh. You’ve grown to hate this place so much, but there is nowhere else to go. You should look for another apartment, but moving seems like an insurmountable amount of shit to go through and you just don’t have the energy. Maybe in a few weeks. Maybe in a few months. Maybe. 

You start by taking a shower, the boiling hot water contrasting with your icy cold skin. You wash your hair, apply lotion. Your movements are slow but you get there eventually. Wrapped in your bathrobe, you open your closet and stare at your clothes. It’s not that you hate them, you just have no idea what to choose. You’re not going someplace fancy, so you end up slipping on a simple pair of jeans and a warm sweater. 

You should probably eat something, but your stomach is in a tight knot. There will be food at Yeji’s place, anyway. 

As you check your phone and realize you still have some time before you have to leave, you let out a long sigh and sit on your bed. You’re not sure you really want to go, but your friends organized this movie night a while ago and they are excited for it. Yeji’s place is perfect for it - she has a projector, which allows the movies to play as wide as the wall. Everyone has been tasked to bring their favorite snacks and drinks. It’s going to be a chill night, and you’ll be happy to see your friends, but everything feels exhausting. 

You promised you were going to be there. So you will go. 

It’s not like they will bother you, anyway. They all know you pretty well, although some more than others, but they are all aware of what is going on with you. No secrets to have. Still you don’t want to be a bore, and you know you’ll do your best to smile throughout. It’s not that they want you to - but you’ll still do it. It’s just who you are. 

At least he won’t be there. Yeji said he wouldn’t - had plans already, apparently. It would be okay if your ex was there - actually, you’ve seen him a couple of times already since your breakup. But you need to be in the right mindset - and today you aren’t, so it’s good he’ll be absent. 

You let out a long sigh and stand up to dry your hair. 

You apply simple makeup, a bit of eyeliner, some mascara. You put on your favorite necklace. You decide to wear perfume. Little things to make you feel better, like you aren’t crippled inside, like you don’t have a decaying organ in your chest. It’s recent, that you’re able to do that. A week ago you would’ve showed up in sweatpants and messy hair. 

Little steps. 

As you grab a tote bag to fill it with the snacks you bought yesterday, you get a text from Yeji. 

Everything okay? 

Come anytime <3

She’s checking up on you and you’re grateful for it. Not a lot of people do, not even your closest friends. You don’t blame them - you haven’t been good company and sometimes it’s hard to find the right words. Some of them have been anxious that your breakup with San will mess up their friend group, and in fear of seeming like they’re taking sides, they just decided not to say anything. They take care of you differently - but sometimes you hate that they can’t talk about it with you. 

Yeji doesn’t do that. She’s been there for you at every step - and it’s not because she blames or dislikes San. It’s just different for you and her, because your friendship not only goes way back when your friend group got together, but also way beyond. 

Leaving in 5, you text back, and she sends a heart emoji. 

Once you’re ready, you slip on your jacket and stare at your reflection in the hallway mirror. You look your normal self, except for the obvious exhaustion on your face, and the slightly vacant look in your eyes. 

You can do this. 

You won’t let your stupid, broken heart define you or your life. 

When you get to Yeji’s, she pulls you into a tight hug. A few people are already there - Jeongin is already snacking on a huge bowl of popcorn, talking to Lily, who’s on her phone scrolling down Pinterest boards. Changbin and his girlfriend, the newest addition to your friend group, are bundled up under a blanket on the couch and wave at you. 

You follow Yeji to the kitchen, putting the cans of soda you brought in the fridge, adding your snacks to the pile on the counter. 

“You look really pretty,” Yeji tells you with a smile. “Is that the sweater we got together the other day?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m still not sure about the color, though.”

“No, it suits you. I promise.” 

You give her a sincere smile as she empties a bag of potato chips in a bowl. It’s quiet in the apartment, but you know it won’t last very long - except for Changbin, the loudest people have yet to arrive. 

“How was work today?” Yeji asks. 

“Fine,” you shrug. “Boring.” 

She gives you a long look. 

“You know you don’t have to stay there, right? You can find something else. With your skills it would be easy -”

“I know, Yeji,” you say in a low voice. “But not right now.” 

You play with your nail polish, chipping a small piece from your thumb. 

“Right now boring is good,” you nod, your voice a little more firm. “When I can focus more, I’ll look for something else. Promise.” 

She smiles, taking your hand to give it a squeeze. “I just don’t want you to waste away where you don’t belong. You’re worth so much more.” 

“I appreciate it.” 

You put your head on her shoulder for a second as Jeongin’s laugh resonates through the apartment. It’s a sweet and familiar sound, and you start to believe it was a good idea to come. 

Grabbing the filled bowls of potato chips, you and Yeji join the others in the living room. You sit down next to Jeongin, who quickly shows you the funny puppy video Lily has shown him, and you giggle at the screen. As Yeji starts to set up the projector, the door opens on a few more of your friends and you know it won’t be quiet anymore. 

Chan, Jisung and Minho are yelling about something, raising the volume of the conversation a million dozen decibels, and you shake your head at the sight of them. Chaotic and loud as they are, even in your state you are grateful for them, because whatever the circumstances they can always make you smile, or, at least, provide welcome distractions. 

They drop down in the remaining spots, either on the couch or the floor, Minho diving his hand down Jeongin’s popcorn bowl and Jisung arguing with Changbin about the type of beer he bought - of course, as usual, Jisung’s only answer to Changbin’s complaint is a simple traitor. 

“THIS AGAIN…” Changbin yells at the top of his lungs. 

You can’t help but smile. That game has been going on since Changbin moved out of his apartment with Jisung and Chan to move in with his girlfriend - Minho took his spot since, and there really isn’t any bad blood between them, but Jisung loves to remind Changbin how he abandoned them. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Minho says, sitting down between you and Jeongin. You took the spot at the end of the couch, a blanket covering your legs. “How’s it going?” 

“I’m okay,” you say with a smile. “What about you?” 

“Fantastic. Did you check out that link I sent you?” 

You start to talk a little - you and Minho work in a similar domain and it’s always nice to exchange ideas and anecdotes. You find yourself immersed in the conversation, the noise of all your friends chatting and laughing mixing into a background noise you can’t get enough of - it definitely helps the black hole inside your chest. You don’t feel so cold, you don’t feel so empty. You know it won’t last, and reality will catch up to you quickly, but for now you allow yourself to relax. 

“Y/N.” 

You turn towards Chan, who has stopped at your level. He’s smiling kindly at you, looking a little tired - but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Like you, Chan barely sleeps. Neither of you can stop the ceaseless train of thought in your heads - while you stare at the ceiling, Chan works. 

“Hey, Channie.” 

“You want something to drink?” 

“Yeah, maybe a soda.” 

“Cool, coming right up.”

“Oiiiii, what about me?” Minho whines. 

He asks for a can of beer, followed by Lily who has finished her previous one, and soon everyone is yelling at Chan to bring them something to drink. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and you chuckle. 

“Let me help you,” you say, standing up. “Y’all are lazy,” you add, squinting your eyes at your friends. 

Their protests all tangle together and you laugh, following Chan to the kitchen. 

Your friends. 

They are all precious to you, all in their own way. 

But Chan. Chan. 

The first time you met him you felt your heartbeat accelerate because he looked so damn charming. A kind smile, eyes like stars, and an energy that immediately soothed you. It did not take long for you to develop a crush on him. How could you not? He was kind, funny, talented, and smart. He truly cared for the people in his life and never broke a promise. Handsome, too, of course. The kind of guy that made you weak in the knees, that sent your thoughts reeling whenever he touched you. 

Your crush had always been one-sided though, which was fine. You had quickly worked to overcome your physical attraction to him and made it a priority to develop your friendship. Because Chan understood you. You found yourselves exchanging looks and agreeing on similar things often enough so that one day, you sat down next to him during a party to ask for advice and you ended up talking for hours, forgetting to get drunk like everyone else. 

You are not particularly close. You don’t know everything about each other. You mostly see each other with the rest of your friend group - rarely alone. You don’t text each other everyday - in fact, you barely do. But he’s a steady presence in your life, a friend you rely on, and you know it’s the same for him. 

Tonight, you’re especially grateful for him. 

Chan gives you a smile as he opens the fridge. 

“I like your sweater,” he says, handing you a pack of sodas. 

You put it on the kitchen island, smiling. 

“Thank you. I like your earrings. Are they new?” 

You’re used to Chan wearing his silver hoops, but today he’s sporting a simple black dot on one ear, a small lightning bolt on the other. 

“Yeah, I felt like a change,” he nods. “They say it’s good for us, right?” 

“I guess,” you answer simply. “It suits you.”

“Thanks.” 

You exchange smiles, gathering all the desired drinks slowly. You glance at him sometimes, at the angle of his nose, at the dark curls that brush his ears. Your crush on Chan eventually faded away, although never entirely. You have just buried it so deep inside you sometimes you forget it is there - you haven’t thought about it for a long time.

Then again, your heart has been entirely occupied by San. 

Heart.

Body.

Soul.

All of which lay in pieces, now. 

Chan must see the shadows in your eyes, because he frowns a little, looking intently at you. 

“Is something wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to shake the bad thoughts away at the same time.

“No, no, don’t worry.” 

Chan gives you a smile and a short nod, although he’s still frowning. He can feel you don’t want to linger on it - you hope he knows it’s not that you don’t trust him. Besides Yeji, Chan is perhaps the friend you trust the most. 

You remember every single hug he’s given you. 

Always so warm. 

Always at the right time. 

He probably doesn’t know some of them gave you the strength to hold on. The most recent one, about two weeks ago. 

“Can I have another one, please?” 

The barman gives you a nod and turns to prepare you another beer.

Besides you, Yeji gives you a long look. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” 

“Just one more,” you tell her, lifting an index. 

She smiles, throwing an arm around your neck. She keeps a close eye on you - that’s why you feel comfortable to indulge in another drink. You need it, after all. Since your breakup with San, you’ve barely touched alcohol, choosing instead to drown in snacks and utter isolation. 

So for your friend, it’s a step forward that you’ve agreed to come tonight. 

It’s just you, Yeji, Chan and Jisung. A quiet night at the local pub. 

A few beers, a board game.

When you have a new full pint, you and Yeji head back to the table and sit down. All of you decide to play another game, and Jisung starts shuffling the cards, telling you some dumb joke. You know he’s doing that to make you feel better, and it works. You find yourself smiling so much your cheeks hurt a little. 

You place your head on his shoulder, affectionately, and cross Chan’s gaze. He’s smiling, too, fondly. 

Your friends are talking and your heart hurts so fucking much.

You miss San. You’ve fallen out of love a long time ago, you now realize, but it’s still painful. You have to start over. You have to find yourself again. It’ll be long work - but you’ll do it. And as you look at your friends, you think to yourself they will make it easier. You’ve been drinking a little, and the emotion swells in your chest. 

“Y/N, don’t cry!” Yeji cries out, noticing the tears on your cheeks.

You have not even realized you are crying. You touch your skin in surprise, letting out a giggle.

“Awwww, no, honey,” Jisung says, drawing you in his arms. 

He rocks you like a child and you laugh as more tears drip down your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I love you guys so much.” 

“Nooo, you’re gonna make me cry too,” Yeji cries out, taking your hand.

“I know it’s not… Not easy for you, because San is your friend, and…” You sniffle. “I don’t want this to be difficult for you.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N,” Jisung whispers. “We’re your friends, too.” 

“We’re here for you,” Chan nods. 

Crying and laughing at the same time, your friends decide to keep playing to get your mind off of things. You’re grateful.

Yeji wins, of course. She always does. Once all your beers are finished, you agree to go. Chan will drive Yeji home - he’s only had one pint. Jisung lives close to you, so you decide to walk together. 

You say goodnight to Yeji. She places a kiss on your cheek, squeezes your hand. Chan draws you into a hug. 

It’s so loving. So steady. 

It takes the breath out of your lungs. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he says in your ear. “I’m here if you need me.” 

You’re too dumbstruck to reply. But you know you’ll remember those words for a long time.

You do. 

You still remember the words - you can still hear them. 

He’s here.

He loves you.

Like a friend, of course. 

But that is more than enough.

“Y/N?” 

Chan’s voice brings you back to the present. You shake your head and chuckle.

“Sorry. I was just lost in thought.” 

He nods, biting his lip nervously. “By the way, I wanted to ask. There’s this concert next -” 

That’s when you hear the door open - followed by a voice.

His voice.

Your blood freezes in your veins, and you stare dumbly at Chan, unable to move. 

You feel like bursting out in tears. No, no, no. 

Not him, not tonight. 

You feel Chan’s eyes on you. Yet, you don’t really see him. He delicately puts a hand on your wrist. 

“Y/N…” 

You try to gather your thoughts. You should’ve prepared, just in case. You feel so stupid. Of course it was all going too well. 

You’re startled when Yeji bursts in the kitchen, puts her hands on your shoulders and seeks your eyes. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, honey -” 

“What the hell?” you hear Chan mutter next to you. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to come.” 

“He wasn’t,” Yeji hisses. “I swear, he told me he couldn’t.” 

“Fuck’s sake, this dude…” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

Slowly, you look up at your friends, gathering a smile. 

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice clear. You take Yeji’s hands in yours, nod at her. “I’m fine.” 

“Y/N…” 

“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I’ll be fine.” 

You look at Chan next, and you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest. There’s something in his eyes you can’t identify, a spark that is also a shadow. He’s frowning, his body slightly bent towards you, like he’s about to pull you into a hug. You clear your throat and nod, praying to all you can not to let your voice tremble. 

“It’s all right,” you say. “He’s our friend. He should be here.” 

And to some degree, you mean it. 

Yeji gives you a tight hug, and you can hear Chan let out a long sigh from behind you. You can’t linger on it - you have to focus on yourself. 

Stay calm. Breathe. 

You can do this. 

The breakup was hard for the both of you, you remind yourself. You loved each other, you really did, that much you’re sure of. San was never that good of a liar. You have a much more vulnerable nature than him, which was always a source of conflict between you, but you know your breakup affected him. You remember the tears in his eyes. The vein in his neck, pulsing, as he held them back. You remember the way his hand clenched yours. The way his words came out broken from between his teeth. 

It’s over, isn’t it? 

You fell out of love. 

It happens. 

You take a deep breath. You still want San to be your friend. You’ve agreed that you would try, and you intend to follow through on your words. 

You take a step to follow Yeji back to the living room, but Chan puts a delicate hand on your shoulder. You turn around, plunge your eyes in his. You’ve always thought of them as a haven, a night sky full of stars, both deep and bright.

He stares at you with a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow. He smells as he always has, a smell you’ve wanted on your pillow for so long - and it still makes you slightly dizzy although you know there’s no chance with him. 

“If at any moment you want to go home, tell me, yeah?” he whispers to you. “I’ll drive you.” 

You’re a little entranced by the soft lines on his full lips and the way his low voice scrapes - but you manage a nod, after what feels like a long second. 

“Thank you.” 

He nods, gives your shoulder a squeeze and lets you go. The warmth of his hand lingers there, and it gives you courage to move forward. 

San has already taken a seat next to Jisung and glances at you when you walk into the room. Your friends are kind enough to keep the conversation going, so the room doesn’t fall silent, but your heart sinks at the bottom of your chest. 

Because San doesn’t look tired. He doesn’t look sad. 

In fact, he beams. 

Eyes sparkling. 

New clothes, new watch. 

A smile so wide it slices right through your heart. 

Fuck, he looks so happy. 

You have to bite your tongue so you burst out crying. You stagger a little bit, but Chan is right behind you and it prevents you from falling back. His warmth, the voices of your friends, everything makes it better. 

“Hey,” you manage to say, although you’re not sure how. “You look good.” 

“Thanks, you too,” he tells you, but his voice is distant. His eyes are too, like he doesn’t even see you anymore. Not like he did before. 

It’s abundantly clear - your ex has moved on. 

It’s not that you still have feelings for him - you just need time to grieve what you had. San was a huge part of your life for a long time, and suddenly he isn’t there anymore. That absence, that void, that’s what is difficult to deal with. Being so goddamn alone all the time. No one to make you feel loved. No one to love, either. 

You’re still putting yourself back together. 

You’re still healing. 

Not him. He’s done it. 

You should be happy for him, and in a way, you are. You’re not mad he’s moved on. But it happened so quickly. It hasn’t even been two months. You were together for more than a year. Maybe you’re jealous, maybe you’re bitter. But mostly it hurts. 

How long is it going to take you? Why are you so goddamn sensitive? 

You breathe out and help Chan bring everyone their drinks. San’s laughter is a haunting melody and you can’t wait for the movie to start so you can think about something else. You take your previous seat, and Jeongin rubs your back affectionately, offering you the bowl of popcorn. 

Chan sits at the opposite side of the room. Pathetically, you wish he was still next to you. Instead you focus on the images that start playing, projected on the white wall in front of you. It’s a movie you’ve already seen, but that’s ok. It’s not like you can really focus, anyway. 

Because all you can see is San. Funny, clever, happy. You know him, you’d know if he was pretending, but he isn’t. He’s liberated. It’s the only word that comes to mind. You wonder for how long you’ve been bringing him down. If he realized it and hated you for it. If he couldn’t wait to get rid of you. If he was just looking for an excuse and -

You close your eyes and put a stop to the intruding thoughts.

No. It wasn’t like that. 

Was it? 

You don’t know anymore.

You barely follow the movie because your thoughts keep spiraling. Around you, your friends are chatting, making jokes, and commenting on the movie. Jisung’s laugh is so loud it takes over sometimes and you take refuge in it. But your heart feels frozen in place, in the middle of two beats, unable to go forward. You stare into nothing. You don’t even touch your soda. The popcorn, either - so you hand it back to Jeongin. His presence feels good, too. 

You hate yourself for being unable to live in the moment. For letting your mind wander like it is, dizzy and unkind. 

In the movie, people say what they think. 

In the movie, loving doesn’t seem so hard. 

In the movie, it doesn’t rain. 

It’s a blessing and a curse that everyone is watching the movie, and that you’re sitting in the corner, in the dark. Your eyes are filled with tears and suddenly one escapes and slides down your cheek. You fidget in your seat, faking a yawn to wipe it away. You pull the blanket over your trembling body. You laugh when the others do, although it’s heartless. Nobody notices - or so you think - and it’s a good thing. 

You try to focus on the movie. It’s entertaining, it’s funny, and for a minute, maybe, you succeed in feeling better. Then you see, from the corner of your eye, San pulling out his phone. He stares at the screen, and in the dark, its blue light illuminates his face. He smiles at it and types a few words. You know that smile. Fuck, you were that smile, once. 

You clench your jaw, hard, and wanting to look away you accidentally fall into Chan’s eyes. He’s looking at you, and although you can’t see his face very well in the darkness, you notice the worry in his eyes. He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t say anything - but you hear his silent question. You need to go?

You shake your head slowly, forcing a smile. I’m fine. I’m fine. 

He nods. He doesn’t believe you. 

You stand up on shaky legs and head to the bathroom. Once you close the door, you don’t even open the light. You wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of your own reflection. You just breathe out, breathe in, and then breathe out again. The tears fall down your cheeks, warm. They taste bitter on your lips. 

Why can’t you be like him? Why can’t you move on, be happy? 

You take a few minutes to collect yourself. It’s fine - you don’t mind seeing San. It’s good, if, unlike you, he’s able to rebuild himself. It’s all you wish for him, and you know it’s all he wishes for you, too. He’d probably be honestly sad to know you aren’t doing well. You can never tell him, of course. You’ll pretend as well as you can - you can’t allow yourself to be vulnerable with him for now. You’ll keep it for yourself, shamefully, selfishly. 

It will be fine. 

You’ll get over it. He did, so why not you?

Once you feel ready, you head out the bathroom, and Chan is there, leaning against the wall. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” you chuckle. “I didn’t realize someone was waiting. Did you -” 

You stop as Chan puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to him. You fall into his arms, and you’re a little shocked so you don’t move at first. Still, Chan holds you there. You stammer. 

“C-Chan, I’m okay, you don’t have to -” 

“Y/N,” he says, and there’s something about the way he whispers your name that makes your heart ache. “I saw you crying. Please. You don’t have to hide.” 

Gently, you let your head fall against his chest. He hugs you a little tighter. 

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he whispers. “You don’t have to hide.” 

You nod. He said it in such a way, you don’t know what it is. 

You are friends. 

You’ve been for a long time. 

Despite your crush on him, despite the awkward period where he was aware of it but didn’t say anything, despite all of that, you are friends. 

But Chan has always been more than that for you.

Chan is a pillar, Chan is a mess. 

Chan is both the lighthouse and the storm. 

You like the feel of his arms around you. The way his chest moves as he breathes. The texture of his t-shirt. 

Oh, God. Not again. 

You can’t let your crush come back running. You’re just sad. You’re just lonely. It wouldn’t be fair to Chan, would it? He’s your friend. He’s not a pretty face you can choose to lust over whenever you’re lonely. 

Don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. 

Don’t do that to him.

Chan is your friend and he is only trying to be here for you. 

“Do you want to go home?” he whispers in your hair. 

You take a deep breath and nod. Chan takes a step back, smiling kindly at you. You do the same, although it’s a little faint. He bends his knees slightly to be at your height, gently rubs your cheeks to remove the tears and replace your hair. 

“Let’s go, then, love.” 

You don’t have time to gawk at him for using a nickname he’s never said before, because he turns and waves at you to follow him. 

He tells your friends you’re feeling a little sick and he’ll drive you home. You say there’s the flu going around at the office, and you hate lying to your friends, because you know some of you will believe you and some won’t. Right now you don’t really care - even if they all knew it was a lie, they wouldn’t judge you. You make sure to not avoid San’s eyes and smile at him. You don’t want him to start asking questions. 

You get your things. Yeji gives you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, making you promise you’ll text tomorrow. You nod, squeezing her hand and glancing at your friends. There will come a day when you’ll be yourself again. 

You just need time.

Time and a lot of courage.

When you step outside, with Chan right behind you, you realize it’s raining again. You look up at the sky, now a profound black painted by hints of grey clouds. You run to his car, the rain heavy and cold.  

The car is clean and smells nice. Chan pulls back his hoodie, starts the engine and drives away as you look back at the apartment building. You wish you were stronger. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chan says, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping on his thigh to the rhythm of the song on the radio. 

“Do you?” you tell him with a smile. 

“I do,” he nods, matching your smile. “You’re telling yourself you should be stronger.” 

You gawk at him, feeling both embarrassed and scandalized. He shrugs. 

“Didn’t I ever tell you I can read you like an open book?” 

“Tsk,” you retort. “Wasn’t that when we played Mafia?” 

“Whatever applies to Mafia applies to real life.” 

“Not sure that’s true.” 

“This is.” 

You glare at him and he does the same, playfully. You feel much more relaxed now that you’re here. It was always easy to talk to Chan - never does that change, whatever the circumstances. You are much alike in that you tend to put others before yourselves, often at the sacrifice of your own feelings. For some reason, though, that didn’t work between you. The walls immediately fall apart.

“So I’m an open book, huh?” you say, staring at your hands. 

“To me, yes. When I have my eyes on you.” 

“And you had your eyes on me tonight?” you ask without thinking. 

“Of course,” he answers, stopping the car at a red light. “I stayed sober, kept a close eye on you. Just in case.” 

You wince. “Just in case I started crying hysterically or made a scene?” 

He shakes his head, looking at you. The red light reflects on his face, enveloping the car in its hue. The rain thumps on the car in soft sounds. Chan’s dark hair is messy on his head, charmingly curled at the tips. 

“More like in case he did something,” he eventually says. 

“Why would he?” you ask with a frown, assuming he’s talking about San.

“Well…” Chan sighs. “He can be a dick sometimes.” 

You’re surprised by his words - you never would’ve thought that Chan disliked San. On all accounts, they are good friends. Chan chuckles nervously at your look, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry. I know you were a thing for a long time, but… It’s just what I think.” 

“Did he do something?” 

Chan shrugs. “It’s just a feeling. Never really did anything. Except breaking up with you, of course.” 

You scoff. “He’s an asshole for breaking up with me?” 

“Yeah,” Chan stammers. “Just - like - who would ever let a girl like you go?” 

His words don’t make a lot of sense to you. They come to you muffled, as if you are plunged in a dream or in a drunken state. You honestly can’t believe your ears. 

“What are you -” 

He quickly waves his hand, looks away from you to the road ahead - and fortunately for him, the light turns green, so he has a good excuse to change the subject. 

“Don’t mind me. I’m just rambling.” 

You really don’t want to let this go. Your heart is racing, and you honestly wouldn’t know San’s name if someone was to yell it in your ear right now. All you can see is Chan, his tightened jaw, gripping the wheel of his car, driving you home. His words echo in your head, and you’re trying to put everything together. 

Did you miss something? Clearly, Chan has something on his mind, an itch he can’t scratch. Have you been so intoxicated by your grief and sadness that you blacked out? You haven’t been a good friend, that much you know. You just wanted to feel better, first. You were of use to no one feeling this sad and broken. But Chan’s agitation has clearly been there for a while. How long have you been this blind? 

You open your mouth, trying to find the right words. Chan, what is going on?

Chan, are you angry at me?

Chan, please, tell me what’s on your mind. 

You sigh in frustration. You’re silent for a while, your thoughts spiraling, and just when you’re just about ready to ask, your phone rings. You glance at the screen instinctively, and San’s name is like a slap on the face. 

Are you okay? he asks in a text. Tell me when you get home. 

Hints of your boyfriend. Remnants of the past. The text feels like a ghost is speaking to you. It makes you angry. It makes you ache. 

You might not love San anymore, but you miss him. 

“Are you okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. 

You’re about to say you’re fine, which has become an automatic response, but you remember what Chan said. I can read you like an open book. So instead, you take a deep breath. 

“It’s San,” you explain. “He’s asking me if I’m okay and to text him when I’m home.” 

Chan scoffs, and there is nothing amiable in the sound. “The guts on this guy,” he mutters. “I’m literally driving you and he knows that.” 

You frown, sensing the anger in his voice. 

“Seriously, Chan, did something happen between your two?” 

Chan shakes his head. He doesn’t want to look at you. 

“Chan,” you insist. “Tell me, please.” 

He lets out a sigh, gripping the wheel tighter. 

“We might’ve had… an altercation.”

“An altercation?” you repeat. “Like a fight?!” 

“Not a fight,” Chan sighs. “Not a physical one, anyway.”

“What the fuck happened?” 

The words escape your mouth. An uneasy feeling washes over you. Nobody has told you about this. Nobody has said a word. 

“When did this happen?” you ask when Chan doesn’t answer.

“Like… a week ago, I think.” 

“Why didn’t no one -” 

You interrupt yourself and close your eyes. Looking out the car window, you realize you’re already parked in front of your apartment building. How did it go so fast?

For how much longer are you going to keep losing track of time? 

“Chan,” you say, your voice shaking. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

He looks at you with timid eyes. They shimmer in the darkness but you can’t focus on them. You are trembling and you can’t hold on to a single clear thought. Your mind is a blurry mess.

Chan looks out through the window before he takes a deep breath. 

“I didn’t want to do this tonight. You need to rest, you -” 

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll never be able to sleep, so it will be worse.” 

You feel your hands shaking, so you clench your fists. Outside, the rain accelerates, pounds loudly on the car. The sound is almost unbearable but you don’t care. 

“If you’re trying to protect me, I’m grateful,” you add, when you see he’s still hesitating. “But I can take it. I’d rather know.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice quivering. 

“We’re friends, right?” you tell him. “That’s what you said. Be my friend, Chan.” 

He sighs and rubs his eyes. You’re scared, and yet a part of you feels perfectly calm. You hate the fact that something was hidden from you, but you’re so ready to withstand whatever storm is heading your way.

You’d rather stand in chaos than into nothingness. 

At least the chaos makes a little sense. 

“Before I say anything…” Chan sighs. “I don’t want you to take any of this on you, yeah? I know you’ll feel bad, but please, just remember -” 

“For fuck’s sake, Chan,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Get to the point.”

“He has a girlfriend.” 

You stare back at him. 

“What?” 

“San. He has a girlfriend. I thought it was too soon, that it was disrespectful of you, so I told him and it got heated, but… Yeah. Shit. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

It’s like the rain suddenly got quiet. 

A girlfriend. 

You should’ve known. You saw it, after all. The phone, the text, the smile. The happiness in his eyes. The trendy clothes, the new watch. All the hints were there. 

He has moved on. 

More than you expected. 

Everything happens quickly. Your body acts before your brain registers it, and in the blink of an eye you’re outside in the pouring rain. You slam the passenger door behind you, you forget your bag, you don’t even think about it. You just walk forward.

It’s bitter cold. 

In seconds, you’re drenched. 

Your knees feel weak and you’re sure you are going to fall.

A sob escapes your throat. 

It shouldn’t hurt that much. 

You hate your heart. 

You hate how vulnerable it is. 

You want to move on, too. 

“Y/N!” 

You turn around, halfway to the door of your apartment, to find Chan running towards you. You raise your hand slowly. It’s shaking like a leaf.

“It’s fine, Chan. I’m f-” 

“Stop saying that!” 

You’re a bit surprised at the sudden anguish in his voice. He stops inches away from you, getting soaked by the heavy rain. It slides down his cheeks like tears, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. He looks at you fiercely, his eyes blazing with light. 

“I’m sorry, I just - I see you’re hurting and it’s killing me.” 

You don’t know what to tell him. You wish he would go away. You wish he would hug you. You wish the pain would just stop.  

“Y/N -”

“I don’t care!” you scream, the sound getting lost in the rain. 

Chan frowns. 

“I don’t care if he has a girlfriend,” you cry out. “I just…” You shrug, your eyes lost in Chan’s. “I just want to heal, too. I want to move on, too. I’m sick of being sad. I’m sick of hurting.” 

There is such despair in Chan’s face you can hardly bear it. You wish you could tell him not to take the weight of your pain on his shoulders, but you know him better than that. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s here with you.

“You just have to give me time,” you say, your voice falling apart. “I’ll be fine eventually.” 

He lets out a sigh, slides a hand through his drenched hair. A raindrop slides down his face, gets caught on his lips. 

“Please, let’s go inside,” he pleads. “Let me be here for you.” 

You hesitate, but the cold rain keeps you on your toes. You want to be home, in your own space, but you also don’t want to be alone. So you nod, and Chan lets out a sigh, thanking you in a whisper. 

When you step inside your apartment you’re a little shy to turn on the lights because it’s messy, but you can’t really be bothered about that right now. Chan waits on the other side of the door, a hesitant look on his face. 

“Come in,” you tell him. 

He nods, closing the door behind him. Your place is modest, just big enough for one person, situated in the semi-basement of the building. It does not get much light, but it feels cozy and it is cheap. 

The first thing you do is get a towel for Chan so he can dry his hair and his clothes. He hangs his hoodie on a hook near the door; luckily the t-shirt underneath is only damp. His dark blue jeans took the worst of the rain. You suggest giving him some dry clothes, but he insists he’ll be fine. 

You tell him to get comfortable and go to change in your room. Your limbs feel weak as you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a crewneck. You cannot stop thinking about Chan's words. 

San has a girlfriend. 

He has opened his heart to love again. 

The rain keeps falling. 

It’s time you heal. 

When you come back to the living room, Chan is anxiously staring at his phone. He puts it away when he sees you, smiling a little timidly. 

“Feel better?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Want a drink?”

“Sounds good.” 

You give him a gentle smile and you both head to the kitchen, where you fill two glasses of soju. He takes one, clinking it against yours. You drink it in one go. 

“Now that feels better,” you sigh. 

Chan smiles at you fondly, and you nudge his arm. 

“Chan. It’s all right. It had to happen.” 

“So quickly, though?” he winces. 

“We all heal at different paces,” you say softly. “Or maybe it’s his way of healing. Either way I’m happy for him.” 

Chan leans one elbow on the kitchen counter, giving you a long look. You hold his gaze, confused at the sudden calmness you feel.

“You said you can read me like an open book,” you remind him, pouring yourself another drink. “Am I lying?” 

He smiles briefly. “No.” 

“Cheers.” 

He takes another sip, and you imitate him. 

“How about we sit down?” you propose. 

Once in the living room, you sink into the couch. Chan sits at a comfortable distance, twirling his glass between his fingers. It’s strange to see him at your place - because of the size of your apartment, you rarely have friends over. You remember him driving you home a couple of times, but he must have been inside only once or twice in the three years you’ve lived here.

You talk a little, about everything and nothing. You drink some more, perhaps a little too much, but the soju warms your body. Chan relaxes, too. The bottle is quickly empty. 

You both fall silent, and you stare at the bottom of your empty glass. The tears come back too easily. 

“Chan?” 

“Yeah, love?”

You peck your lips. Hearing him say that feels too good. It’s so new, but you already don’t want him to ever stop. 

“Is she pretty?” you utter.

“Y/N…” 

“She must be. Pretty and smart.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Do you know her?” 

You look up, and Chan shakes his head. His hair is untidy, his cheeks a little red, his full lips as inviting as ever. 

“I don’t. Ji told me they met at a party.” 

You let out a shaky sigh. “So everyone knows?” 

You hate the way your voice shudders, but you can’t help it. Chan shuffles closer to you, gently taking your hand in his. It’s warm and familiar. 

“No,” he answers in a soft voice. “Just a few. We wanted to wait for the right moment - well, actually, I thought San should be the one to tell you.” 

You laugh, wiping your tears. “No offense, but that would’ve been worse.” 

Chan snorts amusingly. “Oh. Good thing it didn’t happen, then. I thought it’d be a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” 

You both end up giggling, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand. You sniffle. You don’t let go either.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you say. But why are you so invested in this?”

“In your breakup?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m not invested in your breakup,” he shrugs. “I’m invested in you, you’re my friend.” 

“But it’s - you don’t have to, you can just be like the others, not take a side, you don’t have to fight anyone.” 

“Why wouldn’t I speak out? It bothers me, you know me, I don’t shut up when it comes to people I care about.” 

“But San is your friend, too.” 

“But you’re -” 

You frown. “I’m what?” 

“You’re Y/N.” 

The tenderness in his voice takes you by surprise. It seeps through his lips, echoes in his eyes. You feel your heart twist and turn - and just like that, his fingers slip away from yours.

“Sorry, I…” He closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Hell, I’m doing it all wrong tonight. And I should really stop drinking. How the fuck am I supposed to drive back home?” 

“Chan, wait,” you say, ignoring him. “What are you trying to say?” 

He sighs heavily. His face falls in his hand, and he breathes there for a second before he looks back up at you. He looks so tired.  

“I know you had a crush on me,” he breathes. 

You smile nervously. “Why are you bringing this up?” 

“Because I have a crush on you, too,” he says. 

You blink, and it’s like the world tilts. You haven’t been drinking that much, it can’t be the soju. Still, you feel dizzy and warm. Chan is looking at you with fondness and anguish. 

He didn’t say had.

He said have.

His words are right there, still on the tip of his tongue. 

In his eyes. 

So damn bright. 

No - he’s here because he’s your friend. That’s it.

Isn’t it? 

“I don’t understand,” you breathe out.

“I never acted on it because San had wanted to ask you out for a while,” Chan explains with a shrug. “And you know me. I never put myself before others. And although I sorta knew you had a crush on me, I convinced myself San was better for you.” 

You look down at your hands, feeling completely overwhelmed. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” you whisper. 

“Because you were so happy with him,” Chan says, his voice shaking. “You found each other and it was good, and who was I to say anything? At one point it didn’t even matter anymore, and I buried it deep inside of me, told myself I was over you. You were over me, after all. It was just a crush, anyway. I was so sure you’d be in this with San for the long run.” 

So did I, you want to say. Your throat feels so dry, however, you can’t say anything. You can just stare at Chan. He smiles at you almost carefully. 

“When I heard about your breakup… Everything came rushing back. The other night, after we got drinks, and I saw you crying… I was just so worried about you. So gutted to see you hurt, it was almost unbearable. And then he said he found someone else and I couldn’t understand, and we argued. It was heated, but it’s fine now. We’re good.” 

You close your eyes because the world can’t stop spinning. You were so cold earlier, but now you’re almost sweating. You’re too warm. The world is ablaze. 

Chan is your fire.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I can’t say I am. But if I let myself go…” He stumbles on his words. “I just might.” 

Time has stopped. You can barely breathe.

You feel the sting of shame.

The delightful warmth of Chan’s confession.

You’ve been so blind.   

“You just mean so much to me,” he says, his voice both low and soft. “I just want you to be happy. I just want you to be loved as you should be loved.” 

When you open your eyes, it feels like he’s sitting closer to you although he hasn’t moved. He’s not touching you, but his smell overwhelms your senses. You can’t look away, and he watches you back.

“How I wish I could,” he breathes, his eyes drilling into yours. “Fall into you. Show you how you could be loved. ” 

You drink his words like they’re the essence of life. You feel, in each one, a wish, a hope, a possibility. Ropes that were drawn and never knotted together. Lifelines, waiting to be grasped. 

“I never was,” you breathe. 

He frowns. “What?”

“Over you,” you explain. “I never was over you. I’m not.” 

He closes his eyes. 

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t tell me that.”

“It’s true,” you say, voice trembling. “I loved San, of course I did. But you were always in my heart and you will never not be.” 

Chan’s eyes drip down your eyes to your lips. You feel an ache inside your chest. It’s like it’s starting to rain indoors. What an odd feeling. 

“You don’t love him anymore?” he asks carefully, weighing every word.

“No.” 

Your voice comes in a whisper, but it’s full of certainty. 

“But Chan, I…” You swallow. “I can’t - I can’t listen to what my heart says about you, it’s not fair, you’re not… You’re not a stand-in, you’re not - you’re more important than that, and…” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

The question catches you off guard. 

“Just once,” Chan smiles. “I want to taste your lips. Just once.” 

What could you say to that? How many times did you dream about Chan’s lips on yours, wondering what they felt like? Were his kisses kind, delicate, hungry? You’d see him drink whiskey and wonder if the taste would linger on them. You’d see him kiss another girl and picture yourself in her place. 

And now he was offering you a kiss.

Hell, he wanted to kiss you. 

So you find yourself nodding, and Chan takes a long look at you, as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind. You remain immobile, lips parted, awaiting his. Slowly, he plucks them, grazing them against his - and they sink into yours, soft, like a cloud, deep, like the ocean. 

You collapse in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. He slides his fingers through your hair, his other hand embracing your waist to pull you closer. You can’t hold back a sigh from escaping your lips, and Chan responds by kissing you deeper, the movements of his lips getting almost feverish. 

“Chan,” you moan when you gasp for breath.

“Fuck, I can’t stop,” he growls, placing small kisses on your lips.

His fingers dig in your skin, and you desperately want to disappear against him, so you move your leg so you can straddle him. Chan wraps himself around you, and you feel the dampness of his clothes but you don’t care. You take his face in your hands, plunging back into a needy kiss. Chan’s hands wander on your back, on your hips, on the back of your neck. You can only lean into him. His tongue teases your lips and you open your mouth to let it in. It plays with yours, and you can feel walls tighten. 

By now you are fully making out, your hips grinding against his. You can feel him getting hard, and it sends your mind reeling. 

“God, you’re so perfect,” he moans around your lips.

“I’ve thought about this so often, Chan,” you admit.

“Same,” he grins. “I… Fuck, I can’t tell you this.” 

“Tell me,” you insist, trailing kisses alongside his jaw, on the delicate skin of his neck. It makes him shudder, and can almost feel his cock pulsating under you. 

“I thought about your lips,” he breathes out. “Your body. How you would sound moaning against me…” 

“Fuck, Channie…” 

You clench at his words, pressing your core on his erection. He grunts, his fingers slowly making their way under your shirt. You tug at his, and suddenly, like a flash of lightning, you realize what you are doing. Your heart skips a beat, and your mouth dries. Everything rushes back. You stop, and he does the same, leaning back. 

He looks more attractive than ever with his hair tousled by your fingers, his full lips red and wet from your kisses. 

“I’m sorry, I just -” 

“Is this going too fast?” he asks you gently. 

You hesitate. “It’s not that. I just - I don’t want to give the wrong impression.” 

Chan frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like you’re just a rebound or something,” you shrug.

Chan smiles - that cheeky grin of his, his eyes sparkling at the same time. It toys with your heartstrings. How could anyone not adore this man? 

“I don’t care,” he answers. “I’ll be your rebound.” 

“Chan, I’m serious,” you sigh.

“So am I,” he says, twirling a strand of your hair around his index. “If it’s something you want, then I’m here. I want to. And it doesn’t have to mean anything tomorrow, or ever. We’ll always be friends.” 

You breathe out, briefly closing your eyes. All you want is to keep kissing him, to forget the world in his arms. To be desired, to be loved. 

It’s all you want.

But your heart still aches.

So much has happened tonight - you feel so heavy. 

You sigh again. “I just… Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Chan cups your cheek. 

“It’s okay, love,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It’s all so fresh. I can leave if you -” 

“No,” you quickly interrupt him, pushing a finger against his plush lips. “Please. Stay with me.” 

Chan nods, his eyes not leaving yours. You should move. You should get going - get a glass of water, sleep it all off. But you can’t move, lost in Chan’s gaze, your body a bundle of nerves. You lean forward, settling your forehead against his. 

“It’s killing me,” you chuckle nervously. 

Chan giggles, and the sound is delightful. “We have time, love. I won’t let you go, now. I got you.” 

He places a soft kiss on your lips.

“If you’ll have me.” 

As an answer, you give him another kiss. You slide your fingers through his humid hair, inhaling his scent. 

“Will you sleep here tonight?” 

“I’m here, baby.” 

The word makes something melt inside of you. You shiver, and instinctively, he sprawls his warm hands on your back. 

You’re overwhelmed by the tenderness and the hurt. 

You feel so loved. 

So abandoned.

So alone.

So supported.  

So seen. 

Your lips find him again like a magnet. You kiss him deeper than before. You’re losing your mind. 

“Y/N,” he breathes in your mouth.

The words escape your lips. “Fuck it, I want you.” 

He groans, his fingers diving in your skin. His cock twitches under you, making you lose all sense. 

“I want this, Chan,” you sigh, biting his lip. “But I don’t - I don’t want you to think I’m using you, all right? You’re my friend, I care about you, I -” 

He laughs. “You can use me all you want.” 

He starts kissing you again, feverishly, as if it hasn’t just been a few seconds since he last did it. You arch your back, closing all distance between your bodies. Chan starts placing kisses down your neck, his tongue teasing your thin skin. 

“I’ll make you feel good, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’ll make you forget for a little while. Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s just you and me tonight. Let the rest fade away.” 

He puts his strong hands on your ass, and slowly moves it. You sway your hips, and the friction of his erection against you makes you moan softly. You plunge your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his shoulder blades. 

“Just you and me, yeah?” he whispers.

“Just you and me,” you nod. 

In a swift move he removes your shirt, groaning at the sight of your bralette. It’s made of a thin lacy material, so he can perfectly see your nipples, and immediately leans in to brush his lips against them. You shudder, your nails digging in the back of his neck. 

He removes your bra to gain access to your breasts, gently massaging them in his hands and sliding his tongue around them. Meanwhile, you caress his cock above his jeans, loving the way he tenses at your touch. 

“Hold on to me,” he tells you in a breath.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you up, only to gently lay you down on the couch so he’s on top of you. 

“Let me see you,” you breathe, grabbing his t-shirt. 

He obliges, removing the piece of clothing so you revel in the sight of his toned chest. You take off your sweatpants and stare as he removes his jeans as well, giving you a better sight of his athletic body. His boxers do nothing to hide his erection.

“Before this goes any further,” he says, and his voice sounds so raw it sends shivers down your spine. “Do you have -” 

“Bathroom,” you say with a nod. 

He smiles, bends to steal a kiss and disappears. You look up at the ceiling, suddenly very aware of your nakedness, of what you are about to do. 

It feels like you’ve been through ten days in one. 

This morning you woke up with dread. 

Now you are filled with hope. 

Is this going too fast? Should you wait? 

Maybe. 

You don’t want to. 

This feeling in your chest, that Chan helps surge, that threatens to burst - all this light, all this love. It’s been a while since you’ve felt that. From someone else, from yourself. 

So what if it’s too fast? You want to live. 

And if there’s a person you trust, it’s Chan. 

“Got it,” you hear him say as he reappears. 

You don’t really know what to say because you have all this love and light inside your chest and words would not feel enough, so you stay silent, only pull him back into a kiss. He lays on top of you, warm and a little unsteady. You can feel he’s a little nervous, just like you, but you don’t mind. You need his softness. You need his realness. 

You push his boxers down, feeling his cock touch your stomach. The sensation is enough to clear your mind, and you bite Chan’s lower lip a little. He answers with a slight chuckle. 

You want to tell him how crazy he makes you. How nice it is to feel him so warm and hard. How much this means to you. But for some reason, you can bring yourself to say anything, and neither does he. You just breathe together, febrile and eager. His fingers graze your wetness, and you shiver. Sensing your pleasure, Chan applies some pressure on your folds, leaning two fingers on your clit. You arch your back, moaning a little louder than you expected. Your hands reach for him, palming his cock, your own fingers brushing his tip. 

“Fuck,” Chan grunts. “Y/N…” 

“Channie, please,” you whisper. 

“Wait,” he answers. “I want to do something first, if this is my only chance.” 

You frown, opening your eyes as you feel him move. You quickly understand what he means, however, as his lips trace a path of wet kisses on your stomach and your thighs. Soon his breath is against your core, and you forget how to breathe. 

When his tongue touches you, it’s like a hundred sensations at once, and you can’t hold back a shaky moan. Your fingers grab the couch as Chan pushes your legs further apart. He kisses you, pressing his tongue into you, attentive to your reactions. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know?” he says, although you barely hear him. “Keep moaning for me, baby girl.” 

A surge of pleasure goes through your body, enveloping you in silk, and you grab Chan’s hair, instinctively pushing him against your clit as his tongue encloses it. 

“Fuck, fuck, Chan, I’m…” you whimper.

“Are you coming?” 

You nod, and he buries his nose in you, embracing your sensitive spots. Your orgasm makes your whole body tremble against him, and he holds your legs as you do, making sure to accompany you throughout. 

As you come down, slowly, you blink back into reality. You look at him a little timidly, realizing your fingers are still tangled in his hair. You place your palm against his head, caressing it tenderly.  

“I’m so sorry,” you mutter. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Not at all,” he chuckles. “It was beautiful.” 

You bite your lip and he moves so he can kiss you. Your taste is on his lips and his tongue and it’s making you a little dizzy. 

It’s been a while since you’ve felt as good as this. 

Not that the sex with San was bad - but it faded at the same time your love did. When you broke up you had not touched each other like that - barely kissed, even - for weeks.

Although you’re sensitive, you really want to make Chan feel good. You need him inside you, stretching you, making you whole. You align your legs so his cock falls between them, and you grind slowly. His breath hitches against your lips, and you take it as a hint he likes it. 

“You made me feel so good, Channie,” you tell him in between kisses. “I want to do the same for you.” 

“Fuck, you’re so warm,” he lets out. 

“I want you inside me,” you say. 

He nods fervently, puts on the condom he got from the bathroom and aligns himself with your entrance. You feel so relaxed and tense at the same time, tucked in his arms on the couch, the rest of the world faded away. He enters you slowly, letting you time to adjust to his size, and you breathe out slowly. 

He feels so different. He feels so right. You are a bundle of nerves he unmakes.

He thrusts his hips at a measured, exquisite pace. Each time he goes deeper, and you cry out in pleasure, your fingers digging in the skin of his muscled back. You feel the fever, you feel the want. He breathes heavily against your neck, holding you tight. 

“You okay?” he asks in a whisper. 

“Don’t stop,” you tell him, arching a little to facilitate his movements. 

Chan doesn’t stop. As he makes love to you - because it is what he is doing - you sense his thrusts getting a little more erratic. In the quiet of the living room you hear nothing but the sound of him plunging inside you, his cock smeared by your wetness, his breathing mingling with yours. It is so erotic, so loving, your second orgasm is building quickly and deliciously. 

Chan accelerates. You pant, moaning nonsense. 

“Come with me,” he breathes, and that is the last thing you need to come undone. 

It’s enthralling how your soul escapes you and yet stays right there, against Chan, around him, with him. As you clench around his cock, you hear a delightful moan escape his throat, rough and hoarse, and it keeps you right above the clouds with him as he comes inside of you. You feel him twitch before he relaxes slowly. 

His lips find your forehead and he plants the softest of kisses there. 

As you sink into the couch, he removes himself from you, and lays down on top of your body. You don’t mind the weight - in fact, it feels just right. His nose is in your neck, his breath tickling your sweat-covered skin. Your fingers slide in his hair, and you close your eyes. 

You give yourselves time to recover. As the high fades, you feel Chan’s breathing relax and get more steady. 

“Channie,” you whisper with a smile. “Don’t fall asleep.” 

“Hm?” he groans, lifting his head to look at you. 

With his hair all over the place, his small eyes and swollen lips, he looks ready to pass out. It elicits a large smile from you, and you tenderly caress his cheek. 

“Let’s get to bed,” you tell him. 

He nods. You stand up on shaky legs, and help him on his feet. Together you close the lights in the apartment, and then you take his hand to guide him towards the bathroom. You take the time to clean up and head to the bedroom. The lights are off except for the fairy lights hanging above your bed. Once you’re there, you open a drawer, take out a t-shirt that will fit him. 

You slip under the sheets, Chan next to you. He pulls you into his arms, and you put your head on his shoulder. 

The rain has slowed to a drizzle.

Who knows what the sky will look like tomorrow? 

For now you just want to sleep against Charm’s warmth.

“Get some rest, love,” he whispers to you. 

“Goodnight, Channie.” 

“Goodnight.”

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