#you know what they'd think of you if they didn't know you... or if you ever stop being friends... you know how they'll talk

[livwritessometimes]

At Least One Of Us Got Our Happy Ending

: Part 15 (Lando's Version)

: Spring Fling is finally here…that’s a good thing right?

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: Author's Note - You can refer to Interesting *Cue Evil Laugh* to get the context for a certain part.

…

As Y/n and Lando watched Oscar pull his girl in for a kiss, she couldn't help but join some of their friends in hooting for the new couple. It was nice to see Oscar finally be with the girl he'd madly been head-over-heels for—Y/n could recall countless conversations they'd had about this. Smiling at the scene, she felt Lando pull her close to him, his hand resting on her waist.

"Should we get back to the table?" Asked Lando

Looking away from the scene in front of her, Y/n nodded at him and started leading him to their table.

There sat Max, one of Lando's friends who he constantly played games with, and his date.

Taking a seat, Y/n said, "It's so nice to see Oscar finally be happy."

"It is! I'm glad he came today," Lando said, looking at Oscar.

Max laughed to himself, leaning back against the chair he said, "I guess it's nice when things work out the way they're supposed to, huh?" He said, looking at Lando.

Lando narrowed his eyes at Max, "Max..." He said in a warning tone.

Confused by the exchange Y/n asked, "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

Max shrugged casually, taking a sip from the flask he had snuck in, "Oh, it's just funny how it all started you know? I just didn't think you guys would actually make it," Max finished.

Lando could feel his heart beating faster, "Max," He said again this time with hint of anger.

Y/n couldn't help but tense up, looking between Lando and Max. "What does he mean by 'How it started' Lando?" She asked.

"Oh nothing, you know how I am, I love to talk nonsense," Max said realizing that he might have said a little too much.

"Lando...What does he mean by that?" Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando sighed deeply, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words. He felt angry—angry at Max for opening his mouth when it was not needed, angry at himself for agreeing to do such a stupid thing.

"Y/n..." He started, his voice hesitant. Reaching out for her hand, he said, "It wasn't supposed to mean anything...I had no idea that I would actually fall in love..." He said. He could see the dread wash over Y/n's eyes.

*flashback*

*present*

Y/n felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. All hope and dreams for an amazing night disappeared in an instant. She sat there in silence as she let Lando's words sink in.

"So I was just a 'Dare'?" She asked, still in disbelief.

Lando avoided her gaze, his throat feeling dry. "I—I never imagined that it would turn into this," He said. "At first, it was just a stupid dare, I was just angry about the complaint, but I never thought that..." Lando's voice trailed off. He was not sure what he could say or do to make any of it sound better.

Y/n could feel her eyes sting with tears, "So does that mean all this time, every single conversation we've had, every single moment we've spent together...It was all just a game to you?" Y/n said as tears trickled down her face.

"No!," Lando said suddenly, a little too loud for his liking. He tried to reach out for her hand, but she pulled away, "I didn't mean for it to be like that. It was just a dare at the start, I admit, but the more time I spent with you, the more I realized that I just couldn't continue. I was going to tell you, I swear Y/n," Lando said. "I just didn't know how...." He trailed off again.

"So if you hadn't "fallen in love" with me, would you have still gone through with your plan?" Y/n asked, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

Lando opened his mouth but no words came out. He didn't have an answer. Deep down, he knew that no answer would make things right. The damage had already been done.

Y/n stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Congrats!" She spat, her voice filled with bitterness. "You've won your stupid dare. I really hope it was worth it Lando," she said as she started walking towards the exit.

"Y/n please wait!" Lando pleaded.

"NO!" Y/n said, finally letting go of the emotions she had been holding onto till now. "Don't you dare follow me. You've lost the right to do that," she said, her voice cracking at the end.

And with that, she made her way out of the hall, taking Lando's heart with every step she took.

…

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[fictionismyreality3]

Penpals with the 141

Warnings: stalkerish behaviour at the end teehee 🤭

Notes: if only I had a hot military man or men to send letters to 🤷🏻‍♀️😩

It started out as just another way to keep the boredom away. Sending care packages to military members was also a plus. You'd be staying busy and doing a good deed at the same time. You found some trustworthy-enough organization, signed up, and sent out your first letter along with a few goodies like choclates and warm socks.

The 141 had never really thought much about getting care packages from civilians. In their eyes it was just a good way to get the things they missed out on while on deployment. Most of the letters got tossed as soon as they opened the box.

That was until they got yours.

The stupid little smiley face drawn on the cardboard shouldn’t have stopped Simon in his tracks, but he found himself staring down at the doodle.

"L.T? Y'been standin' there fer a good 15 minutes." Soap remarked.

"S'that your favourite candy, right?"

Soap was swayed by the chocolate oranges, finding himself reading your letter as he scarfed down each wedge. The curly handwriting, the crossed out and rewritten words had him showing the letter to Gaz, and then Price. Soon you found yourself in an almost penpal situation. Over the exchange of more and more letters, you were able to dicern the personalities of each man who was writing to you.

There was Soap, who wrote in barely legible chicken scratch, often skipping words or even entire sentences, like he was thinking too fast for his hand to keep up. Always calling you 'bonnie' or 'lass'.

Gaz, who wrote much more formally. His hand writing was the best to read, neatly printed on the lines of the paper. You got the sense that he sat down and put his whole attention into writing back to you.

Ghost, who's name you were yet to learn, tacked on his responses at the end of the paper. It was rare to get more than a few sentances from him, and even rarer for them to be anything but small talk. Slowly, he began to open up, asking you how you were or if your boss had resolved that HR issue yet. How did he know that?

Price, who'd quickly insisted on you calling him John— makes me feel old, luv— was the one who you seemed the most interested in your life. You chalked it up to him wanting to have something to think about other than his life threatening job.

Questions about your living situation, your job, your hobbies, it all seemed like small talk. Easy enough to look over. And then came the questions about your bills. Does your job pay enough? When's the last time you've been on vacation? What does your ideal living situation look like? Are you in a relationship?

It wasn't just John who was asking. So we’re Gaz, Johnny, and even Ghost began to inquire about more personal details. Every time you got a letter, it was almost a pavlovian response for your cheeks to blush. You looked forwards to the letters from your far away military men, and they even sent you gifts!

A watch, just like the one on your pinterest, wrapped up in a pretty pink bow. They added on such a sweet note too.

"Synced up to our watches." Ghost.

"Thought you needed a little treat." Gaz

"Here you go, bonnie! Now you can know when we're awake!" Soap.

"Let me know if you need it tightened, sweetheart." John.

They didn't feel the need to tell you about the favour they called in with Laswell to get the micro-tracker added, or about the camera and microphone they planted in the watch face. You looked so pretty with it on anyways, they'd need to make sure nobody stared too long.

[cvnntagious]

☆ introducing... pornstar!chris

chris was never shy about his profession... not at all, really. truthfully, he only stayed quiet about it as to not make other people uncomfortable. but of course, as soon as he was in front of the right crowd, and the questions started coming, it was like they'd never stop. "nah— no, i don't do all that fake shit," he answered, waving off his friend as he chuckled.

everyone looked to him as they sat around on the couches in your living room, some with wonder on their faces, others with confusion. you were skeptical, to say the least. "y'know what i mean, with those plots and all," chris continued on, "no one even likes that anymore. they wanna see real, unscripted fucking. all the dirty talking and moans, they're just not enjoyable if it's all for show."

"yeah, but i'm sure it's all played out anyways," you were quick to speak up, not thinking too much of the comment you'd made. though the words were simple in your mind, they immediately caused everyone's attention to turn to you, as if you'd told this something no one could've ever possibly thought up.

chris shook his head, grin unwavering. "nah, i scrap anything that seems even remotely forced."

"but porn's always forced, everyone knows that," you quipped, completely disregarding chris' 'professional' opinion.

"y'think so?"

the smirk that began to tug at his slips only seemed to further build the tension that had already started hanging in the air. "yeah," you stated bluntly, the way you crossed your arms gave you a snobbish look, but you didn't care. "i mean, seriously, all those loud moans and screaming and shit... nobody's really that loud, no matter how good it is. and there's just no way chicks are, like, squirting and shaking all the time— i wouldn't even be surprised if squirting wasn't even real."

by this time, chris had shifted comfortably in his seat on your couch, crossing his arms like you had and watching you with an almost unreadable intense stare. he wasn't offended by what you were saying, no. rather, he was curious. he could be way off, but something told him you didn't really know much of what you were talking about.

━━★

"mm-mm, baby, don't go all quiet on me now," chris hissed as his hips snapped to meet yours, his hand reaching to lift your chin and force you to look at him.

"c- chris!" you practically shrieked, hands reaching to claw at his biceps as your back bowed slightly off of your couch, eyes closed and mouth making a pouty little 'o' shape that had chris' ego blowing up his head.

the way his large length filled you up more than you ever had before, threatening to hit your cervix with each thrust had tears brimming at your waterline. your world was being rocked, in every sense of the word, and it was all his fault. he'd decided it was time to change your outlook on everything on one random night over a silly comment you'd made hours prior. "how loud could chicks 'never be'? was it -" he cut off his sentence to pull all the way back and snap his hips as hard as he possibly could, eliciting a loud mewl from you that echoed through your house, "that loud?"

you immediately clung to him, legs wrapping around his torso and arms throwing themselves around his neck. he breathed harshly and groaned in your ear, head dipping to practically nuzzle itself in between your neck and your shoulder for a moment.

chris couldn't help chuckle when he heard you pleading to him, mumbling on about how he was too big, and that you couldn't finish like this. but still, when he slowed down for you, you found yourself whining at the loss of friction, writhing beneath him as he lifted his head to make eye contact with the camera set up on your coffee table. "wait! wait, m'not—wait, no, ke- keep doing that," you rambled on, practically unable to control the babble falling from your lips.

so when you finally decided you were fully satisfied with what he was doing (as if you hadn't already been before), chris' eyebrow raised, realizing he'd really found it now; that gummy sweet spot that made your eyes roll back.

and he shot the lens focused on him a cocky gin before diving all the way back in, allowing his head to drop on your shoulder once more

w/c : 754 a/n : divider by issysh3ll

[writingmeraki]

enemy!rafe cameron hcs !

ft. older!maybank!sibling

★ prng. rafe cameron x older!maybank!sibling, e2l ★ gnr. angst, fluff, unresolved feelings ★ wrngs. cussing, jealousy, alcohol, violence, age gap ( reader is older ), mentions of parental issues ( for the sake of this, jj and reader don't have parents. ) w.c 3.7k ( yeah so um....) | a/n at the end.

older!maybank!sibling who finally graduated and is headed home.

After all the years of hardwork and the distance from home, you're headed back to where it all began for you.

It's been a while. You've changed. A lot. Not just physically but also as a person. When you'd gone out of the town you'd grown up in, you didn't think you'd be able to make it out in the ‘real’ world. Considering how your brother and you basically had to fend for yourselves due to not having your parents, you really didn't know what would happen to you outside.

Outside of your home and if you'd survive. But you still took the leap, four years back, and you can't say you regret it. You were grateful for having John B’s father promise to take care of JJ, and you think leaving him was the hardest part. He understood you though, in fact was the one who supported you the most to get out of the town.

Yet no matter what the little island still seems the only thing unchanged, with its weather to the sand on the beach. The familiar houses, the roads, the sounds, everything was all the same. 

But who changed was your brother and his friends. 

older!maybank!sibling is immediately thrown into a hug the moment JJ spots them.

You couldn't stop the tears and the shock that ran through you once you saw him. He looked…different. In a way as though he matured over the years. His look, his height, his hair, his eyes, everything seemed different. Of course you maintained contact with him in the years, but you never went back for any of the holidays. Due to the fact, you were sure you'd not head back to your college. And your brother knew that, he made sure you didn't feel alone. 

His friends, you remembered all of them, were just as surprised to see you as you were them. They all definitely looked much more mature than when you remember them as the scrawny kids you'd last seen. 

John B, Kiara, Pope, and someone you'd never met before Sarah. Sarah Cameron. You were familiar with her family but not enough as you liked to stay out of places you knew you weren't welcome. And yes, you didn't forget the ‘hierarchies’ that were there.

You still did find them stupid. Though, she was a huge surprise. She didn't seem like the arrogant assholes you remembered how the other side of the island were stereotyped as. 

In fact, it seemed she knew you for years from the way you got along as if you'd also known her the way you knew his other friends. She told you how JJ never once stopped talking about you, how you'd think, what you'd be doing at the moment and all the other stories he has of you. You would endlessly tease to him how much he missed you.

older!maybank!sibling who's crowded at the first bonfire party they ever attend in the years.

You saw many familiar faces, very few new ones. But all in all, the night was mostly just you being caught up on what you'd miss. Which was really, not much. You were told how most days, the Pogues, all they did was their adventures and you were told of what they'd done in the past years.

Some stories made you very concerned, some made you proud while in all, there was a part of you that wished was also there. While they had stories, you had the same to give.

Stories of college party nights, your group of friends you'd managed to make after so much trial and error, which you also did inform them of all, but now you were sure that you found the ones who you'd also likely be attending their weddings. ( Lifelong college friendships >> ).

You promised them that you would make them all meet each other. You also showed the new piercings and tattoos you'd gotten. It was on your bucket list before you left and you finally got it fulfilled. 

Along with you coming back, also came your overprotective older sibling persona, which made you heavily judge JJ for overconsuming so much alcohol. You had to snatch away the glass as he threw himself on you and whined about how he was just very happy to finally see you. You shook your head with a smile as you looked at him fondly, caressing his hair. You replied, “I know, Jaybird, I know.” 

And his eyes lit up from the nickname you gave him since you were a kid, it was something between you two only and only fate knows how much he missed someone (you) calling him that even though he hated it as a kid. 

older!maybank!sibling done for the day and heading to call it a night as the crowd filters out slowly.

You weren't aware of the new people who joined in later, considering you'd gone to take a call from your friend wondering if you'd reached home. The conversation took a while which meant you didn't realize what had happened. 

You gasped when you went back to JJ, seeing the big bruise on his cheek as he sat down with a face of rage and annoyance. “What the fuck?!” You wondered how you didn't even realize what had happened until you heard another voice. Spinning around, you came face to face with him. 

It took you a minute to recognise the guy standing in front of you. 

Rafe Cameron. 

From what you recalled, he was a kid who always stuck to his father. You rarely ever saw him and were surprised to remember him too but you think his very blue eyes made you recall him. He…he definitely had a change. A glow up, but you won't admit it.

His height has grown, making him almost a head taller than you, his face got much sharper, and the scowl on his lips shouldn't look that…attractive. His hair ruffled, strands of it laying perfectly on his forehead like he was some sort of perfect mess. 

And that's when it clicked again, he was Sarah’s brother too. 

Him though. He was just as, maybe even more surprised to see you. It took him a minute and a bit of internal questioning about how someone like you was talking to someone like Maybank. 

Then, he remembered. His older sibling. You were Maybank’s older sibling. 

He was a bit, no actually he was completely baffled by you. He heard around how you'd left, often even used you to spew insults at JJ. But he didn't expect you to look like that. He gulped when he realized he might have been staring for too long before directing his stare at JJ. Right, his initial target. 

Your eyes darted between your brother and back to Rafe. You raised an eyebrow as you saw him holding his hand. Injured hand. And that's when it hit you. 

With a menacing scowl, you spat at him. “You did this?” You pointed at his bruised cheek.  

JJ flinched at your tone, not used to it being so harsh. While Rafe seemed to go speechless as his mouth opened to respond but couldn't due to his tongue feeling weirdly heavy. It was so fucking stupid of him. Normally, he'd have jumped at the chance to mock, but it seemed he couldn't at the moment.

The next thing you knew, before you could even comprehend, you just took a deep breath, your eyes darting back to JJ’s who might have been getting an idea of what you were about to do as his own widened and he shook his head. With a scoff, you turned back to Rafe and stepped closer. 

And before he could even think, he felt his face being whipped to the left sharply. You might not have had the same strength or force in your slap, but you were sure it would leave a mark. You weren't even the violent type, but for your brother, you'd kill anyone who dared to even harm him. 

“Next time, don't even think about hurting him. Because I can do worse, got it…Rafe?” 

Rafe didn't even know how to respond. Everything was so quick, and all he really felt was the sharp sting in his cheek. The way you said his name, the way you fucking remembered who he was. It was too much at once. He didn't even realize he might have just nodded and how he just remained frozen in the spot. It wasn't like he was not used to being hurt, especially when confronting JJ, a little violence was always there, but he was taken aback by you, your entire presence that he couldn't even say something. 

Glaring at him with as much hatred you could, you moved back to your brother and his friends. Annoyed that now your hand stung and you carefully took your brother back to John B’s.  

It was chaos between the rest of his friends. All wondering, how you'd even manage to go unscathed but you just shrugged and scowled that he got what he deserved but probably also deserved much more. Even worse. 

older!maybank!sibling realizing they may have just started something they were never ready for.

After the little incident, it hit Rafe just how humiliated you also made him. His ego, which was his one firm thing in his life, was hurt. And after this thinking, mostly Topper just made him question why he just stood there like an idiot and let some…some pogue slap him like that. Now following this realization, he made sure to worsen his supposed ‘reign’ over the rest of the Pogues. 

Yet. If you were present with them, it was as though you had him in a trance. He couldn't do anything, say, or let alone look at you without feeling…nervous. And this made him even more mad at himself because it wasn't the ‘scared’ nervousness that ran through him, it was more so how there seemed to be a fucking zoo in his entire chest near you. He felt his stomach drop too sometimes. 

Now that you were updated about what exactly Rafe Cameron was upto and continued to do, which was to be a pain in the ass to the Pogues, your impression of him went down the drain.

Not that it was much anyways considering he did harm your baby brother. But now all you felt when you spotted him was pure hatred. 

This resulted in you biting back at him and his words when he decided to have a go at the others. Your words, never ones you knew you could even say, were laced with rage and venom and your eyes shone the same. 

Your medium of communication with him was insults and bickering, but it seemed he seized the physical violence after that day. 

older!maybank!sibling getting to their wits end during one of the ‘regular’ confrontations with Rafe.

It was another party, something you came to knew was a very regular thing now. It was the usual insults spat at each other, until you finally just walked away. You didn't even know why you engaged in the argument. Didn't even understand, why in God's name you continued to maintain these fights when you were someone who was calm. Being a violent teenager was what you left in the past, it wasn't like you. 

Deciding you'd had enough, you went for a drink. There you met, one of the guys, who you became friends with when you came back, Mark.

Mark was pretty sweet, meeting him during one of these parties too a while back, and you'd even exchanged numbers that day, remembering it so clearly due to the fact that Rafe Cameron wasn't even there then. You'd been level headed that day, and spoken to others around and clicked with Mark instantly. 

Mark had gone for some time out of town for his work, but he was back. You even recalled him messaging you how he'd be joining the bonfire tonight. It was surely a delight to see him again. 

He hugged you shortly after you said hi and you were happy to return the gesture. You continued to talk to him as he gave you your drink. Your conversation felt light, not something that would make you want to rip your hair out the way most of your conversations with Rafe went. And you wondered why in God's name were you thinking of him. 

Seeing you so close to a guy he didn't even know, Rafe to say the least, was pissed. Annoyed and pissed.

He scoffed at the way you leaned in closer to him. You had that stupid look on your face where your eyes twinkled and your smile was so bright, it made his heart leap in annoyance. He couldn't stand it. 

Next thing, he knew, he walked up to you both and greeted you sarcastically. Looking at the guy, he noticed that he was taller, which made him feel a slight sense of accomplishment as he stood straight. And Rafe wasn't someone who felt unattractive.

He knew he was hot and he acted like it too. So as he did get a closer look at the guy, he did know he was much better looking.

“Finally, did someone manage to tame you Maybank?” 

Your eyes were already narrowed in suspicion the moment you caught him walking towards you, and you scowled at his words.  You questioned about why he was even bothering you again, when he began to laugh humorlessly at your questioning. 

“Why I'm just concerned, ‘couldn't find guys there who could stand you there so you're targeting the innocent ones here?” 

Before you could even lunge at him, Mark gently held your arm and your gaze shifted back to him. 

Oh this did not go unnoticed by Rafe. It made him even more pissed.

He laughed even more, out of spite, ‘So I was right huh, you are tamed now.” 

You'd had enough.

Pulling away from Mark, you sized up to Rafe and looked him dead in the eye, poking your index finger to his chest.

“Listen to me Rafe. You're a piece of shit who thinks he owns everyone and their lives because you think you're the fucking king of the world or something when in reality, you're a stupid little kid who's projecting his daddy issues onto others. Who the fuck even are you without your last name huh? You're always seeking your daddy’s approval to do shit and think you own the world because of that. Well you're wrong, you're nothing, without your name, without him, you're just a sore fucking loser who doesn't even know an ounce of how life works.” 

It was all your frustration, all the anger and the annoyance caused by him that led up to your explosion. You knew everything about him, and this was when you finally exploded about what you really thought of him. 

But. Instead of him immediately answering you. He stood there frozen. 

You felt the worst fucking dread beginning to build up in your stomach when you saw the emotions in his eyes.  

…Hurt. Sadness. As if it wasn't expected of you to say that. And it wasn't. He knew he got on your nerves but it was so fucking idiotic of him to think you thought of him otherwise. 

And the worst part was….you were right. 

Stepping back, you took a deep breath and scanned his face. It was still the same, no remarks, nothing, now his entire expression went blank too. You shouldn't feel the guilt building up in you as you went over what you said. It was too much, maybe you crossed a line too. 

Without another word, he simply flickered his gaze to the floor and looked back up at you. Nothing, he showed no emotion as he turned around and walked away from you.

older!maybank!sibling wondering how the hell did they end up at a point where now they felt guilty for Rafe Cameron out of all people? 

It took many sleepless nights to make you think over your words. You knew Rafe’s issues with his…father. Sarah had told you so and at that time, a part of you did feel terrible for him. And now you'd ended up using those same issues as insults to his face. This wasn't like you.

You weren't someone, no matter what, who would use these types of things as insults. But you tried justifying your actions with how he'd been treating you the past weeks, how he hit your brother too. It was of no use, you still felt like…you stooped far too low. 

With this too, Rafe stopped. He completely stopped his insults, bickering and petty fights not only with you but the rest of the Pogues. It was as if he'd chosen to just ignore your entire existence whenever you'd accidentally stumbled into him anywhere. 

You felt a bit sick when your brother happily told you how Rafe stopped bothering everyone, even his own sister, because of what you'd done. You obviously told them of what happened but…maybe not the entire truth. You didn't mention what exactly you'd told him. 

You feared they'd all somehow judge you. You hated it. And most importantly, you hated how much you were actively looking for Rafe. 

For what? He stopped bothering you which was what you wanted but…but it was weird. 

Weird how you needed to just…talk to him. Probably…apologize too.

older!maybank!sibling who gets the chance.

It was after weeks, you'd see Rafe again. It had been weeks of peace for sure, but it was weirdly quiet. Sometimes, you get used to all the chaos and crave peace but when you finally have it, you oddly in a fucked up way, miss the chaos. It was stupid. 

You'd been walking alongside the ocean, clearing your mind because the past weeks felt tiring. The sand sunk beneath your steps as you mindlessly walked with your gaze down. When you spotted a figure in the distance, you wondered if it was someone like you who also was seeking comfort from the sea.

You paused when you got closer and realised who it was. 

Rafe.

The one who was the cause of your own haywire. 

It seemed at first he didn't notice you. Which gave you the time to think whether or not this was the moment to finally do what you'd been wanting since a while. 

Going against your better judgment which screamed at you that you got rid of the annoyance in your life and now you were heading right back at him, you moved ahead.

He was startled when he heard soft footsteps and froze when he turned his gaze and saw you.

You the one who'd made him contemplate so much about his life with just some stupid words. You who made him question his feelings because no matter how clear he could hate on others, it seemed he couldn't find it in him to do the same with you. 

‘Hey.’ You began softly, and pointed beside him, ‘Do you uh…mind? 

He didn't even think before he nodded.

After a beat of silence where you let the waves fill in, you spoke up “Look. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said. And I do regret bringing up your…life like that but honestly it is the truth.” 

You can't say you didn't expect the scoff that followed after your words, and it made you realize just how much you…you sorta missed seeing him, his face. Rafe Cameron was an oddity to you and your feelings. 

“How about this? You don't need to accept my apology but truce?” 

He didn't speak up when he processed your words, or didn't care enough to because his gaze darted towards your stuck out hand. 

“I…I really didn't mean it. That's what you should know.” 

He seemed to be in thought for a moment, your guilt filled eyes consuming his mind for the moment and making him gulp at the way they twinkled under the moonlight. You…you really still manage to steal his breath away without ever trying. 

“Fine. But you still need to make up for it.” He made his mind and took your hand in his. Shaking it. His hand engulfed yours fully and you can't say you hated the way it contrasted your coldness. It was warm and like…like it was a perfect fit. 

At his words, you laughed in disbelief, “Me? Make up for it? You were the one who kept pushing me!” 

“Is that giving up I hear? I thought we called a truce, Maybank?” Rolling your eyes, you stood up, feeling already a tad bit better than before. 

“Ugh whatever Cameron, of course you'd only agree to something if you could find a way to get your own benefit.” 

You didn't want to admit it but there was definitely less venom to your tone, in fact it seemed you were now…joking with him. 

He stood up, running his hand over his hair and shook his head, and it was the first in a while you saw his lips turn up, the small gesture making you freeze, and you hoped he didn't notice.

“You know me so well.” 

His words shouldn't have affected you the way they did, but you gulped as he stared right into your eyes when he did say them. It was intense. A lot, all at once.

And so you looked away, pretending to roll your eyes as you calmed your heartbeat. Shaking your head, you turned around when his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“What no goodbye, new friend?” 

You turned your head towards him, in more disbelief at the word, and blinked at him. It was like he enjoyed baffling you because he chuckled like the idiot he was, “Well I'll say it then, Night Maybank, looking forward to being friends then.” 

With that he turned around and went the opposite way as you continued to stare at where he had been standing. Rafe Cameron just joked around with you…like a normal human being…? 

Maybe you did end up passing out of something and this was all a weird ass dream. Pinching yourself, you felt the pain and winced, realizing this was the actual reality. 

Well then, you guess you should look forward to how exactly you were now going to deal with your new friend. And the weird flutters that never seemed to seize as you recalled the way his genuine laugh seemed to sleep right into your bones and make you melt. 

You were fucked. 

a/n : something new, enjoy. ( new format 🙏) lowkey made this cause i dont have time to write a fic rn :"))) also yes no parents bcoz it would be more...heavy if I included that so just enjoy the beef b/w reader and rafe :D also yes i ended it there bcoz i will see if this is liked by the audience ( you ) and decide to invest more time to write this duo....i do have some ideas planned but do let me know what you think!!! sibling bcoz i write gn mostly if you're new here :D

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | misc masterlist | main masterlist | info !

[royalberryriku]

Nope, more just hoping for any chaos in general to be helpful. Like, this wasn't a deep analysis or a concrete "I think this will ruin the military", in fact I didn't even mention it bc I didn't think it would be affected. However, I do think it'll help right wingers lose confidence.

As for revolution, it really depends on what theory (as in what specific type of revolution) is being referred to. I personally think a greater land back movement and stronger push for fighting for civil rights is on the horizon since a lot of people are, as you're saying, banding together. Meanwhile, I personally wouldn't agree with a Trotskyist revolution because I think that IS outdated and tbh never a good idea to begin with for a number of reasons (I have my own criticisms of the base theory but I won't get into that here lol).

I think it's important as well to note that I do very much agree with you, *but* it's also important to recognise you have to have enough love to fight for what's right and protect people you care about. I know that's obvious to say and probably something you already meant here, but I think it's applicable to resistance against systematic oppression in the sense of uprisings as well. Like I literally don't think the system used right now in the US is a sustainable one and tbh I personally see it as very totalitarian so I wouldn't put my energy waiting for it to be fixed from the inside.

Uh, basically, what I'm saying is actually more simplistic and not implying much beyond what I stated at face value; I think the failures to meet the expectations of right wingers (especially far right groups who have used Trump as a reason to become more active) will make them lose morale and slow down their ability to be as reactive in the long term, and potentially (though this is more just a hope than realistically what I think will happen) said failures making it difficult for governing bodies to remain as organised as, say, during a Biden administration because they'd be so focused on the mess Trump is causing due to his incompetence. Again, that's just a wistful hope, not so much a "I think this will definitely happen". I'm more focused on how continual failures will make him appear less of a figure for right wingers to follow and potentially lead to some advantages for activists to push the opposite.

But either way, yeah no, I agree that we should be all banding together. Been saying exactly that the whole time too.

He really talked Trump into naming it DOGE huh

[doctorho]

thinking about viktor with a chronically ill reader. you know? we see the vision, right?

it just works.

the thing with chronic pain, illnesses, disabilities, all of that - is that you can't always see them. sometimes you can, sure, you can see the mobility aids and the not-standing-up-for-too-long and the bruising from blood draws and sometimes you can see the compression garments, the pills and inhalers and the i'm fine, i just need a moment-

but most people just don't pay attention to that. or if they do, they don't put the pieces together fast enough to figure out what's really going on under the surface. viktor does, though; he's been there, and most of the time he's way beyond hiding it. or, well, he's way beyond hiding some of it.

walking with a cane was like carrying a neon sign that said yes there is something different here. yes i can't walk the way you can. no it's not going to get better. that last part wasn't directly evident just from him using a cane, sure, but with the way his cane looked, it should've been pretty clear. He had used one practically forever and it had evolved with him, he'd made it as comfortable to use as it could be, had even made it match his uniform.

so yeah. viktor knew what it was like. he'd been the disabled kid forever, even if some of the others were never going to say it out loud. that was just a thing about him, and he knew how hard it could be to navigate something like that in an academic environment. it was hard to admit you couldn't do something, that you had to sit down, that you needed a moment. that sometimes your body was just falling apart for no particular reason and it was just another tuesday.

sometimes it was easier to sit with the pain than take medication in the middle of a meeting, knowing that someone would make a bigger deal out of it than it had to be, even if it was just raising their eyebrows meaningfully. they'd think about you differently afterwards.

he could see you push through it, and he didn't blame you, really, he did that himself, too, but - he didn't want you to hurt yourself. you hadn't been in the lab as long as he had, so he could understand you being a little cautious with how you acted and what you told people, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to put on a show for him. he was, after all, walking around with the equivalent of a light-up sign of i'm disabled, too, and he liked to think of himself as someone who wouldn't come off as judgemental about stuff like that. other stuff, sure, stupid stuff, but not that.

so when he sees you dealing with the telltale signs of being in pain, he conveniently sends jayce and the others to pick up some parts that would take a while to collect and that they wouldn't actually need until the next day. but better prepared, right? what's the harm.

and then he comes to sit next to you and sighs deeply. leans back. relaxes to the best of his abilities. asks if you're alright, and sounds like he already knows the answer.

you sigh too, shift your position, and answer with it's fine. and viktor recognizes the strain in your voice, in your posture, and he knows there's a key difference between this and i'm fine, but he'll take it. it's not what he'd like, but he'll take it.

he leans over to dig around his belongings, and then offers you a bag of candied almonds.

"if you're going to take pain killers, it's better if you eat something first," he says, and you just stare at him. "i assume you haven't taken anything yet. nothing strong enough, at least," he continues, casually, and you take a deep breath and accept the almonds.

he smiles. continues like this is totally normal. "jayce made me start carrying around some food so i could do that. for myself, i mean. but it doesn't hurt to have some snacks around either way, i suppose."

he knows he's skirting around the real topic of the conversation, but he also knows that sometimes people get uncomfortable around his bluntness, and you hadn't exactly told him you were in pain, so he'd understand it if you were a little weirded out. after all, most people didn't notice this stuff. but you haven't run away from him, and you're eating, and then you're digging around your own bag to take your medication, so he'll count this as a win.

thanks, you exhale, handing back the almonds, and he takes a handful of them himself.

"i'm fine, really," you continue, not really looking at him, "it's just hard sometimes."

he nods. it was - even if he didn't know the specifics, he knew that it was true. especially since you had been hiding it from the others. and with something like that, something the others couldn't see, the invisible step to let them see it would grow bigger and bigger with time, when they expected you to be able to do everything they did without a second thought.

he also knows you didn't mean fine in the dictionary definition sense of the word, but more in the this is normal and you don't need to worry -sense. and that's fine. he was used to functioning on different parameters than most people, so this version of fine was good enough.

my body just isn't always very reliable, you explain with a sigh, and that he knows better than well.

he hmms in answer and nods. he knows.

you exhale a small laugh at that.

and he's glad you're relaxing, wants you to be as comfortable here as possible.

"these people are alright," he says casually, "as far as healthy people go."

viktor smiles a little.

another win for him.

and then he sits with you, talking and not talking and enjoying the quiet comfort if it all. and then he makes up some excuse so you don't have to keep working yet. he was well aware what it was like trying to work through the pain, waiting for the medication to kick in, and he wouldn't exactly recommend it. besides, as a rule, you were more likely to make mistakes if you were thinking through a layer of pain, and that was just plain bad planning. it made much more sense to just take a break and continue when you felt better. in fact, he was in dire need of a caramel latte and a pastry right now, do you want anything?

and after that it just... sort of falls into place. you're more relaxed around him. and the others, too, but he's the only one that really gets it. doesn’t make a whole thing out of it when you need to sit down for a moment or take a break while your pain killers kick in. he's just there.

he knows what it's like, and that feels like an invisble curtain lifted from between you and him, and it's just easy. you don't have to pretend you're doing better than you actually are and he doesn’t hide it when he's in pain, either.

most people don't see it, but there's a mutual understanding there; yeah, sometimes life sucks and sometimes you're in pain and no it's not fair that sometimes your body is falling apart and life just keeps going. you can't do all the things you want to do but you still have to show up for the other life-stuff and if you took a day off every time you felt bad you would never get anything done and it just never stops.

but sometimes there's someone who'll sit through it with you without judgement. offer a warm drink and a snack and some understanding.

[t3a-tan]

Silent But Friendly

A what-if story about what would happen if Oliver met borrower James wayyyy before they actually did

---

They are in silence; though not the uncomfortable stuffy kind, rather a very peaceful quietness that surrounded the dinner table. His uncle worked late most weekends, and so that left Oliver and his aunt to eat alone on that Saturday afternoon.

It was macaroni and cheese tonight— one of Oliver's favourites. He even helped in the kitchen to chop the tomatoes and grate the cheese; aunt Charlie was 7 months pregnant after all and he wanted to do his best to help out.

As he finished his portion he placed his knife and fork together on the table before making eye contact with his aunt. She was eating slowly, mostly picking at the food. Her appetite seemed all over the place during the pregnancy; sometimes Oliver saw her eating lots of snacks, and other times he saw her throwing up from the tiniest bite.

He could see in her face that she was full, though she looked determined to finish the remaining bites. Catching his eye contact, she looked up and smiled tiredly. It was a warm and kind smile; like drinking a hot chocolate in front of the fireplace in the winter. Oliver soaked in that warmth whenever it was available, and right now was no different.

“Thanks for your help in the kitchen, love. It tastes brilliant.” She praised, before sighing as she finally set her fork down. She offered a sheepish grin in his direction. “I don't think I can fit any more... D’ja think you could go put the plates in the kitchen, poppet?”

A simple task really. Oliver didn't mind doing any of his chores or extra for his aunt and uncle— not after they had taken him in and been so kind to him. And sure, he missed his parents sometimes, but it felt much more gratifying to complete a task and receive praise rather than constantly fearing punishment as he had before.

Even if he looked at his mum wrong…he could just remember the look on her eyes. It was cold and distant; like being stranded out in a snowstorm, alone and lost. Resentful.

No…he much preferred living with his aunt and uncle, no matter how many times he woke up clutching his pillow and missing the way things used to be.

Oliver nodded silently, standing up and moving all the cutlery onto her plate before stacking her plate onto his own and lifting them both. He brought them closer to his centre so they'd be easier to carry and began walking towards the kitchen only to pause as his aunt spoke up again.

“Oh— and love? Just while you're up, d’ja think you could grab me a drink of water too?”

He turned back towards her, scanning her expression for a moment and seeing that once again there was nothing but geniality in her gaze. He offered a small smile in return and nodded again. She beamed, leaning on her hand as she looked up at him.

“You are a little sweetheart, you know that?” She praised once more. Oliver averted his eyes, though internally he was very pleased by the praise. He once again only nodded in return before entering the kitchen to go put the plates by the sink.

Next, he grabbed a glass from out of the cabinet and opened the tap, first testing it with his finger to make sure it was cold before holding the glass underneath. Once it was sufficiently full he turned the tap off and returned to the table, setting the glass down in front of his aunt.

She watched him enter with a fond gaze.

“Thanks, love.”

Picking up the glass she raised it to her lips and took a few sips before coughing. Oliver's expression turned to one of worry, his lips mouthing the question he wanted to ask although no sound came out. His hands moved too, signing alongside him.

‘Are you okay?’

She saw the gesture and waved a hand dismissively, nodding a few times, though she looked a bit pale still.

“I'm fine… I'm just gonna head to the bathroom, you stay down here, okay?” She stood up slowly, and Oliver could tell just by the slight winced in her expression that she was having a bout of nausea. He shuffled closer to help her up but she gently waved off his help.

“I'm okay, I promise. Why don't you get your comfies on and I'll come in to you later to read the next chapter of Magic Tree House, hm?”

Although more hesitantly than before, Oliver nodded slowly and watched as his aunt walked up the stairs. Once she had disappeared from view he glanced back towards the kitchen.

I don't think she'll be well enough to wash up… I can do it. I'll just leave things to dry since I can't reach the cupboards.

With that thought in mind he re-entered the kitchen and approached the sink, putting some dish liquid in the washing up bowl and starting to fill it up with warm water only to jolt when a sound caught his attention.

It was faint, he hardly heard it thanks to the sound of water on water, but he still heard it. A cry. Oliver turned the tap back off, glancing around and listening for it again.

Nothing.

As he looked around for any sign of what could have made the noise— or god knows it would bother him for the entire evening— he then noticed that the cylindrical tub of oats that sat beside the other cereal was…open. The lid wasn't off all the way, laying balanced and slightly ajar.

Oliver watched it silently for a few moments, wondering how exactly it had ended up that way. He had used the oats last when he ate porridge earlier in the week, so he knew that he had closed it once he was done using it. He even remembered looking at it this morning and never noticed anything off about the lid.

Unable to come up with a plausible theory, he sought to find answers as he approached the countertop the tub of oats was on, tilting his head ever so slightly.

Is it…a mouse..? Unafraid and full of curiosity his hands gripped the base of the tub and he tilted it towards himself to peer in through the opening, the lid clattering onto the counter as he did so. He expected just…oats. Maybe a mouse or a rat.

What he didn't expect was a pair of brown eyes staring up at him through a mop of messy long black hair. There, sprawled out and covered in oat dust, was a tiny boy.

Oliver stared silently— even if he wanted to speak he was at a loss for words, simply gazing down at the boy through his glasses, his mind blanching. He tilted the tub down more just so he could get a better look, listening to the little yelp that escaped the boy as more oats rolled over him.

The walls are much too high…he must have fallen in. He could be hurt.

With that in mind, Oliver smiled reassuringly, holding one of his hands out placatingly as a gesture of goodwill before using that same hand to reach into the tub, his vision now obscured as he blindly grabbed around for the tiny boy. He had held mice before— he imagined it was the same.

His fingers closed around a squirming form and he couldn't help but wince as they did— it was a weird feeling, to hold something so small that was undoubtedly alive. Once he was sure he was holding the boy securely he lifted his hand out of the tub and let it sit upright again as he brought the squirming rescuee to his eye level.

He realised that he had carried some oats with him and saw that the raven haired boy was still struggling away, kicking and fighting and losing energy by the second. Oliver noticed that one of his legs wasn't kicking very well, but it wasn't bleeding. He opened his mouth to ask, only for the words to catch in his throat again.

He knew he could speak, but he didn't like it. Whenever he did speak it was forced and he hated the way his voice made his head and ears feel. His aunt and uncle had promised him that he didn't need to force himself to speak and were teaching him British Sign Language…but he highly doubted this random boy knew it.

None of the kids at school did. None of the teachers. They all got frustrated with him and now Oliver made sure to keep to himself, as much as he wanted to raise his hand more.

Oliver lowered his hand slightly, offering another reassuring smile that was half a grimace at the same time. He waved slowly with his free hand, trying to get the boy to stop panicking so he could attempt communication.

As his other hand raised he caught how the tiny boy's gaze immediately focused on it, going stiff and staring up at him like he was a monster. Oliver didn't let that phase him; so long as he was able to communicate his intentions, he was sure they would calm down.

He kept a gentle smile on his face, moving slowly once he noticed how easily startled they were by his movements. He mouthed his question alongside his gestures, pointing at their leg and then tilting his head as he mouthed ‘is your leg hurt'?

They continued to stare owlishly up at him, trembling. Oliver's smile faltered slightly, concern in his eyes as he repeated the movements and mouthed his question again more emphatically.

“W-why aren't you talking..?”

The tiny boy's voice definitely held fear, but it was also slightly accusatory. Oliver was used to that second part— where people thought he was weird or creepy for not speaking. He was so used to it by now that it wasn't really upsetting, though it was hard to explain without words.

Oliver shrugged and mouthed ‘I don't like talking’. The boy squinted up at him, seemingly trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate.

“You…don't like talking? O-okay…” Oliver was surprised they didn't laugh or call him weird or just ignore him as many others did. That made him smile again as he repeated his previous gestures, still trying to ask about their leg.

“O-oh…my leg..? It's fine..! So…so you can just put me down and I'll go home, yeah?” Oliver heard the hint of uncertainty in their voice and he couldn't help but frown at the thought that they didn't think he would do that in the first place. He quickly realised that his frown could be taken the wrong way though and opted for a more neutral expression.

He lowered his hand again, this time so that it was flat against the counter, nodding his head in one direction as if he was shooing the boy off of his hand with his head alone. ‘Go on. I won't keep you’. He offered another smile for good measure.

The boy didn't move for a few moments, looking around at his fingers warily as if they would snap closed on him like a bear trap. Oliver simply held still, patiently waiting, despite his many questions.

Slowly they began to scoot towards the edge of his palm, and Oliver tried his best not to react to the ticklish sensation. He watched as they fully climbed off his hand and stood up before meeting his gaze again with trepidation.

“You…you're actually letting me go..?”

Oliver nodded, smiling again as he slowly moved his hand away and turned it back over so the palm was facing downwards. He placed his free hand over his heart to indicate sincerity.

They seemed to hesitate still, but took a cautious step back. As they put weight onto one of their ankles though they let out a hiss of pain, losing their balance as they suddenly pulled their weight off of that leg. Instinctively, Oliver's hand reached towards them, cupping as he caught them, looking down at them with concern.

‘You are hurt…’ He mouthed, although it was unreadable due to the way he was practically mumbling. Regardless, the boy wasn't looking at his mouth, instead they had wide eyes and were swivelling their head around to focus on Oliver's hand. He frowned worriedly, not wanting to scare them more than they clearly already were, but also not wanting to ignore someone who was injured.

He raised his other hand from the counter again and held out his palm, splaying his fingers out in a placating gesture and biting his lip when the boy flinched away from his hand’s shadow. He repeated the gesture again, trying to show that he meant no harm. All the while, his left hand remained cupped behind them, although it wasn't caging them in.

It took about five or six times of Oliver calmly repeating the same motion for the boy to calm down and notice that his fingers weren't closing in, and his right hand wasn't moving any closer. They looked up at Oliver, looking so small and vulnerable from this vantage point… I just want to help.

‘Your leg…’ He slowly pointed to the tiny leg again, then pointed towards himself, his hand instinctively flattening to sign help, only to remember his leading hand was currently cupped behind the boy. He rested his hand on the counter again instead.

‘I can help you.’ He mouthed. When the boy didn't seem to read his lips, Oliver simply repeated the most important word. ‘Help. I can help.’

There was a hint of understanding in the boy's gaze, but he was still clearly very frightened. Oliver tried to imagine seeing the world from his perspective, but it was hard to imagine…regardless, he thought he would be more curious when coming face to face with a giant unless he had reason to believe they meant him harm.

His green gaze danced around the counter in search of something else he could offer as a sign of good will. His gaze landed on the macaroni and cheese his aunt had left— and although it wasn't super hot anymore he could warm it up. Most of it was untouched after all, and he found the boy in the oats, so he was probably looking for food or something similar.

‘Wait.’ He held his hand out again, slowly moving his hand from behind the boy so that he was no longer supporting his weight. He then picked up his aunt's plate and walked to the microwave, covering it with a lid and putting it in for thirty seconds. He watched the timer go down, intending to stop it just before it would start beeping.

At one second he opened it, turning off the timer and pulling out the plate before carrying it back over to where he had left the boy. He was pleasantly surprised to see that they were still there, watching him with wariness…but also a hint of curiosity as Oliver set the plate down nearby.

Sliding it in the boy's direction he smiled, gesturing towards the plate.

“For…for me?” They asked, shocked by the offering of food. Oliver nodded. He watched as they limped closer to the plate and very nearly toppled over whilst climbing onto it. They crawled closer then sniffed at the food, before finally taking a piece of the warm macaroni into their hands.

Oliver winced at the mess but made no moves to stop the tiny boy, simply leaning on his hand as he watched the display.

They ate ravenously, making it clear how hungry they were as they only paused to announce how good it tasted; expressing shock over the fact that the food was warm. Eventually the boy grew full and he looked up at Oliver again, cheese covering his hands and face. Oliver couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle, hushed and soft but no less amused.

The boy frowned up at him, little eyebrows contorted in frustration.

“H-hey! Nothing funny to see here..!” He protested. Oliver covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the laughter, cutting it off with a small cough as he was worried he might actually upset the tiny boy. That would be bad…he was trying to help him after all.

They continued to stare up at him, looking him up and down with a scrutinising chocolate brown gaze, seemingly debating something internally. Oliver was silent as usual, removing his hand that was covering his mouth and making his expression neutral again— though he couldn't hide the curious spark in his eyes.

“My name is James…” The boy murmured, but Oliver heard it.

He perked up, his hands already moving to spell his own name, mouthing ‘Oliver’ alongside it. His aunt and uncle just used the sign of an acorn as a nickname for him, but he didn't really introduce himself like that.

“Oliver…yeah I know.” James responded as if it was obvious, but Oliver tilted his head questioningly nonetheless.

‘You did?’

James hadn't read his lips but seemed to understand that he had let something slip he shouldn't have as he began to backtrack immediately, fear visible in his expression.

“I-I mean…it's not— I-I'm sorry…” He was back to trembling, shoulders hunched and posture stiff. Oliver's expression saddened and he leaned down slightly so he was more at eye level, offering a small reassuring smile and shaking his head lightly, hands gesturing alongside his lips moving.

‘It’s okay. It's okay. I'm not angry.’ He shook his head again to emphasise that fact. ‘You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'll ask something else… like…’ He thought for a few moments before levelling with James again. ‘How old are you?’

There were a few beats of silence as the tiny boy continued to stay silent, but Oliver remained patient. Eventually he spoke up, albeit shakily.

“I-I'm um…I'm thirteen.” He answered, averting eye contact every now and then. Oliver knew that he was prone to staring or giving way too much eye contact so he looked away again for a moment, only looking back when he responded back.

‘I’m ten.’ He held up his hands, palms facing himself and fingers close together with his thumbs sticking out, before turning them around and splaying his fingers out. People usually understood the second gesture much more when Oliver tried to sign numbers.

“Ten?” The tiny boy clarified, and he nodded in turn. That seemed to make James perk up a bit himself, as if age was a matter of pride. “So…I-I'm older than you? You're just…so big. It’s weird…”

It's weird. Not I'm weird.

Oliver smiled.

‘I am big.’ He agreed, his hands continuing to sign as much as he knew his constant hand movements probably only confused James. Wanting to focus on more important matters again, Oliver pointed towards his leg. ‘Can I help fix your leg? It's hurt.’

“Oh, right… u-um… nothing is broken, I think I just landed weird. The pain is starting to go away a bit… But I can't stay out here— my dad’ll kill me if he catches me talking to you..!” He exclaimed, glancing around as if his dad might pop up from anywhere. Oliver couldn't help but glance around too, worry etching across his features.

‘Your dad would really do that? Is he mean to you?’ He signed quickly, his mind instantly flashing back to the many threats he had heard when he was younger from his own parents. Mostly his mother, but his father never stopped her.

James didn't seem able to read his lips that time thanks to how sporadic it was, but he could tell that Oliver was worried.

“N-not actually! I just…I'm exaggerating. He.. he will be worried about me, is all. He and my mum…” He corrected, confusion in his gaze as he looked up at him. Oliver let out a small sigh of relief and relaxed, calming down little by little.

An exaggeration. Right.

He nodded to show he understood, although he couldn't help the jittery feelings that remained buzzing under the surface, his hands withdrawing closer to his chest as he looked down at the tiny boy. ‘Okay… Do you want to clean yourself before you go, then?’

He reached over the counter and picked up a napkin before offering it forwards for James to use. The boy's face lit up in realisation and he glanced down at his cheese covered hands sheepishly before nodding and reaching out to take a corner.

“Thanks…” He spoke out as he wiped off his hands. He let go of the napkin and gave Oliver a confused look when he didn't withdraw. Letting out an amused exhale from his nose Oliver pointed at James then gestured to his face.

‘Your face is messy too.’

The boy's face went red with embarrassment and he took a clean part of the napkin to wipe the cheese from his face too. Once finished he let go again and held out his hands as if to say ta da, then shakily pushed himself to a stand.

At first it seemed like he might fall again, and Oliver's fingers twitched in anticipation…but it seemed the boy had been telling the truth that the injury was nothing serious and the pain was fading, as he was able to put more weight on it than before. Satisfied, he put the napkin in the bin before looking down at James again.

‘It was nice to meet you, James.’ He smiled, waving down at them. He waved back up at him, climbing off of the plate and walking backwards towards the…wall..? Oliver watched with confusion and interest, then awe as the tiny boy opened a hidden doorway into the wall. His eyes sparkled with wonder, although he only watched.

“I-it was nice to meet you too, surprisingly. Thanks again for not um..for not killing me.” The secret door then closed and left Oliver alone in the kitchen once more. He tilted his head, brows furrowing.

What an odd thing to say… Oh well. I hope his parents don't get angry at him because of me.

With that in mind, he stood up straight again and turned the tap back on to resume his washing up, playing the interaction in his head over and over again.

I hope we can be friends.

[kurosagi-h8r]

I think it would be fun if darkwick has like a radio committee/club where they would read anonymous messages/letters for the school. Maybe they can invite the students as guest speaker too. I need Ed to be invited only for him to be like joke around and just beating around the bush haha hihi and then he dropped some big scandal/secret for all the school to hear.

How it works is the host will announce who the next guest speaker would be and then people can send anonymous letters, it can be about the guest or anyone, then the guest will have to read the letter there. On a live radio.

Yuri will either rant about darkwick general or openly threat frostheim students and endangering the radio committee.

Jiro will actually be pretty normal and give tips regarding student health. Until he read one anonymous letter with smth like love confession or poetry that's soooo Zenji style and he'd be like "...where did you get this?"

Subaru reading anonymous letters (sent by Leo) to corner him into spilling the beans about himself. Poor guy would struggle in front of the mic.

Can I be biased here? I want Haku to read a bunch of love letters lololol (i would send him tons tbh) JUST TO HEAR HIM oh-so-seductively CHUCKLE EVERY 5 SECONDS LETTER AFTER LETTER until I realize I wasn't the only one because some girl two seats away from me is giggling to herself hearing Haku reading her letter out loud. "Ahaha... so many love letters, are you guys sure it's all for me? All your love??? For a guy like me? I must've been a hero in my past life."

As for Tohma he would either read complaints or blatant complaints from another Frostheimers (i feel like he could tell just from the handwritting alone that the sender is from his house) and after reading the entire content he would go, "Thank you for the heartfelt letter, MR FUJI. I'll be sure to assess myself better but I would need more detailed information on your view regarding my performance as the Vice Captain. Please come to the Vault and be sure to come on time after this radio session. Should you be too busy, I can always interro– I mean interview your closent friend, the honor student. After all I don't mind having her attention all to myself." Or something along the line bcs he'd play dirty like that. (That's so hot of him tho i would at least admit it)

Sho wouldn't really be a guest speaker but if the radio committee needs to make some quick buck they could open a paid promotion and you would hear the committee promoting HTH lol. Like telling the audience about Discount of The Day that you wouldn't know unless you listen to the radio.

Also Haru would probably do the same too! He would want the radio to promote the safari lol.

Ritsu... can the committee even convince him to spare some time in his schedule to be their guest speaker? Would he charge them money? 😭 What if he starts spouting some laws about some legal wrongdoings the radio committee has done (which they didn't even realize) just by making this whole radio thing A THING.

Kinda same with Ritsu, the committee would have to pay Romeo for him to come. I just wish Kaito would send him a letter and everyone would hear Romeo curse tf out of that letter. I think by the end of the session he should put a bounty on Kaito's head. Just because.

What if someone say some bad things about Haru and then Towa IMMEDIATELY storm the studio or zap the radio tower 😭

Mizuki Rui dating advice session? Mizuki Rui dating advice session. Just like Haku he would receive anonymous love letters (or not anonymous. Honestly i would be bold too if it's him). They'd be such a huge confidence booster for him lol and he would give the senders cute nicknames if they're not anonymous.

There has to be messages about the teachers too. Hyde reading anonymous letter in which he could tell Sho was the sender. Students shit-talking about Moby and his weird ass idol obsession (i would be the sender just watch), *cough* students being nosy about the relationship between Benkei and Nicholas *cough* well well MC PLEASE MAKE THIS RADIO A PLACE FOR YOU TO LET YOUR HEART OUT PLEASEEEE YOU SHOULD BE GIVEN A FREEDOM OF SPEECH AT THE VERY LEAST 😭

The rest of them would either not care enough about the radio or become the sender. Leo would prefer to be the sender, i think. Ren would only send anonymous letter when Haru is the speaker to let everyone knows he dislike him and dislike being put in Jabberwock. Zenji will always send his poetry and probably most speakers would find it hard to understand his works, let alone reading them out loud 😭 Zenji himself would love to be the speaker but oh well~ still, it's an opportunity to spread positivity and hopefully he can brighten someone's day with his work.

[anxiousapplepie]

Question: how would OG Sif feel about the other Siffrins if they looped and escaped with little effort due being able to talk to their party? There was a semi-joke convo, but how bad would they ACTUALLY take it?

Also, OG Sif's reaction to Traveler Bonnie looping?

OG Sif, if he met the other roleswap Sifs who ALSO had a timeloop experience, would probably stare into space and wonder if he got stuck in the darkest timeline/timeloop because it took him the longest to escape their timeloop hell. I think they'd take it... not badly, though? Like, knowing in other lifetimes they got what they needed so much faster (a family, a place to belong, someone to beat into their head "YOU ARE LOVED!" etc) they'd be a lil wistful and thankful that they weren't always doomed to suffer for the narrative. Bittersweet. They'd be more thoughtful like "ah. so I really SHOULD'VE talked to my family so much sooner. hm. gotcha. more evidence that my family truly love me no matter what, so that's something!" OG Sif's live reaction to Traveler!Bonnie would be muffled screaming into his cloak because GOOD GRIEF it would break their heart to know one of their favorite people (WHO IS ALSO A CHILD) got stuck in a timeloop because they didn't feel safe enough to share what was going on

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 88 (Bringing Home a Ghost)

After Ghost Night ended at the Salty Paw, Heather, Conrad, and their new friend Felix Psyded left Fisherman's Wharf and returned to their home on Sable Square. Heather entered first, finding Hazel on the sofa watching TV. "Hey, how were the kids tonight?"

"They were great! Ashy said you guys usually read him two bedtime stories but he fell asleep after the first one, and Lava hasn't woken up since I put her to bed. I got to watch Moonlight Massacre after all! How was your night?"

"It was nice! We went looking for a man we didn't find, but we met someone else while we were there..."

Conrad walked inside the front door as Felix floated in behind them. Heather stood, as Hazel looked up from her phone in quiet awe. "Felix Psyded, Esquire. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss."

"Hazel Moody-Nesbitt," she replied. "Heather's cooler younger sister. You're, like, really a ghost!"

"Since 1915." He warmly tipped his bowler hat. "May I say, you're stunning like your sister."

"You may say! But I'm married."

"Of course the lovely Nesbitt women would all be spoken for. Though I hope your husband is friendlier than Sargent Gordon."

Hazel laughed. "My wife is sweet, but Conrad's great! Are you the one guy in the world he doesn't get along with?"

Heather sighed, sliding over to make room for Conrad on the sofa. "They got off on the wrong foot."

"Well, why'd you bring him home? I know you love strays, but I didn't think that meant people who've been dead for over a century!"

"They've promised me a plate of ambrosia in exchange for my services."

Hazel gaped. "When you guys said you were doing this challenge I just thought it was, like, a team building exercise. I didn't think you were really going to resurrect anybody!"

Heather shrugged. "Well, why shouldn't we? We went through all that to learn how to do it, so we might as well help someone with unfinished business while were at it."

"So is that it, then? No one dies, they just get to live again with ambrosia?"

"Not everyone's unfinished business is to live again. Some die so old, with bodies so used and broken, living again isn't worth it. Even some of the younger ones. Everyone is different and fascinating in their own way, which is why I took to studying ghosts and their stories in the first place."

"He's going to help us figure out if Conrad met a ghost out on Deadgrass Isle."

Hazel grinned as Conrad stood to shoo one of their chickens back outside. "You're fighting crime by day and paranormal activity by night? Holly was right, Conrad. You're basically a superhero."

He blushed, and Felix turned a dour look in his direction. Ending the tense conversation in the living room, Hazel left to return home.

Heather and Conrad left Felix on the sofa and headed to bed. But before they'd changed into pajamas, she blurted her question with concern. "What's going on with you? I've never seen you snappier with anyone than you were tonight with Felix. Like I brought home two ghosts tonight instead of one."

"He was kind of acting like a dick."

Heather nodded. "And you met him there. That's not like you. Is it George Brindleton again?"

"No, George has been quiet. He and his wife spend a lot of the winter in Sulani every year." He could see Heather found this insufficient and kept talking. "I'm just dealing with a lot. I know I wasn't really myself tonight. There's this one case I can't crack and it's making me a little crazy."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I do, but I can't say much about it."

"I know. Confidential. But I want to give you whatever you need to be able to keep your work life at work, and not take the stress home. Not even for me and the kids, because you're so good to us. That's not the issue. I'm worried about you, and I want you to talk to me. The night we got engaged, you promised you would always tell me how you're feeling."

Joining her on the bed, he held her hand against his chest. "When I've finally solved the case, I'll tell you everything. I promise."

She grinned. "Not every gory detail, I hope."

"Do I ever? I don't want to think about the case tonight. I don't want to think about the ghost in our living room. All I want to focus on the rest of the night is you."

They made love before Heather fell asleep in Conrad's arms, (at least temporarily) satisfied by their conversation. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I debated whether or not to bring Felix Psyded and his lore into this generation because there's a university generation much, much later in this challenge, but Felix was the first ghost that showed up to Ghost Night, sat right next to them and was immediately enamoured with Heather. So my mind spun with a bunch of possibilities for him and I went for it, even though he's mentioned in urban legends for UBrite students and those obviously won't be canon to my timeline anymore.

The In Bloom challenge doesn't have anything related to Felix in the challenge rules, even in the university generation, and Reaper Rewards didn't even require use of the ambrosia Heather made. But I wasn't going to do all that and not fully finish what they started. They're not really the type to lure sims into a cowplant just to test whether ambrosia works, no one in my save needed to die and be brought back, and I have a plan now for Felix! @pixeldistractions mentioned a possible prequel flashback and I'll never say never, but setting up an early-20th Century photo save will take a while if I do it, so no promises. I am invested in him getting a happy ending to his second life, however!

[fanofstuff01]

Okay this post was originally supposed to be longer and going into more depths of the subject but I decided to separate it in parts. Because I cannot write that long of an essay in one day lmao

But anyway here's part one

Wohoo

Why Adam from Hazbin Hotel Not Coming Back In Future Seasons Doesn't Make Sense (To Me)

Part One: Logical Problems

Now this section, even though it is still my favorite in the parts, can be fixed easily if Vivienne just gives a logical answer to all of it. But it is just my perspective and what I saw from this show.

Let's get started yippie

-

A: Him not coming back contradicts the show in my opinion.

-You see, when Sir Pentious died to Adam's holy light, all the other characters react like they think he's one hundred percent gone. And it was previously stated by Vivziepop that sinners cannot die unless it's from an angelic weapon, otherwise they just respawn somewhere else in Pride hence why the exterminations exist.

So this implies that Sir Pentious died permanently here, from an angelic attack and then became a winner, in other words respawned in Heaven.

Then.. Why can’t Adam, someone who we know (for now) that died to a weapon designed to kill souls permanently, come back exactly Vivzie? This doesn't make any cucking sense for me. Why are you showing us that a soul can rise after being perma killed, but then treat as if the other Alex Brightman died permanently and now there's no way for him to come back?

-"But maybe they didn't know that Sir Pentious could come back, they just learnt that angels could be harmed. (Yes someone literally said this)"

Oh you mean these characters, who include the Princess of Hell and a literal ex exorcist, don't know about one of the core reasons why exterminations are held in the first place?

Suure.

-"You wouldn't be sad and attack the person who did it if someone killed your friend even though you knew they'd be back? Their reactions don't essentially translate to them not knowing about the permanent death thing."

I would and I can definitely understand them still being incredibly devastated and going feral about his death even though it’s temporary, but then why does the show treat Pentious' death like something these characters think is permanent? Why does Charlie refer to his death as “Ultimate sacrifice”? Hell, this entirely contradicts the sense of finality and sorrow his sacrifice had. 

And to add to both questions, why would Adam come to the exterminations with a weapon that doesn’t kill sinners permanently? Specifically one where he knows that there’ll be folks that will try to fight them and folks he would be more than pleased to wipe out permanently? 

-I know I sidetracked to talking about Sir Pentious more than Adam here, but since he is the only soul we know that changed the place he was in afterlife he is the most relevant character when it comes to this discussion about Adam in my opinion.-

-”We don’t know if angel souls are equal to sinner souls when it comes to this. Maybe the angels simply cannot be killed unless it is permanent, and the show actually hints at this given everyone thought that the angels were invincible.”

This is the only argument I can get behind actually. But it is not because it’s a valid one for the right reasons, it is the only one that makes sense to me because the writers were lazy on this too. 

Then what happens when an angel is harmed with a non-angelic weapon? -Also maybe off topic but what makes something an angelic weapon? We see Cherri Bomb throw bombs at them or okay maybe angelic bombs are a thing, but Charlie shoot-kills the exorcists with the fireworks that come out of her fingers?- Do they just.. Respawn? Or it just doesn’t hurt them? Then wouldn’t a character as smart as Vaggie would’ve figured out that they can very well be killed permanently if they are able to get hurt? 

Not answered. And it’s not helped by how the show openly portrays winners, which may I remind you Adam is one no matter how powerful he is, as the complete opposite of sinners, which would take you to assuming the angelic steel works like it does on sinners for demons. It just doesn't make sense to me.

And it wouldn’t make sense in the next section either.

B: Him not coming back doesn’t make sense in the story or the worldbuilding in my opinion

Just a little disclaimer, I’m not all means a professional media critic and do not say what I say here comes from that distinction. It's just me sharing myself lol.

Also I may use the terms incorrectly due to my broken English skills.

-Okay. So what is Hazbin about? Demons getting redeemed and therefore getting into Heaven for becoming better people, right? Also showing us that everyone can change and they shouldn't be seen as who they are at the moment and they all deserve a second chance.

At least that's what I get from the show. Now..

Why isn't the previously good now bad, being punished at the same level the previously bad now good is being rewarded? Why are you saying that becoming bad would give you an easy escape through death, while becoming good can get you to somewhere better?

Being on Hell is a PERFECT way to punish corrupted holy souls. Because you often become corrupted in the way of arrogance in Heaven, and now you're humored by the universe and by the people you used to mock and see yourself above as but this world's ways don't allow that.. Okay?

Speaking of, this also frustrates me on the world's mechanics and how they work. Sure, it can be that way, but.. Sorry if thinking about a "Divine Judgement" that makes you rise for being good but doesn't make you fall for being bad doesn't make sense in my book..

I can't express my point in this one quite well like I did with the other one but it just melts my brain dude. Like on one hand, on the positive hand, you're saying that if you're on the bad side you can change for the better and that's what matters, but you can't change from good to bad and have the same levels just negative and simply.. Die??

I just.. Can't. Sorry if this part is messier.

-

So this is it.

Will be multiple parts stay tuned ig

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @beef-brisket

yea im delulu sue me

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> you do too much

word count: 3.7k TW: body image, overworking, swearing, angst italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

Cyana never meant for it to get this far.

It had started off pretty mild, she'd wake up earlier than usual, take a morning run to the company and get a head start on practice. She'd stay later than the others too, insisting they go home without her and that she'd join them a bit later. Just one more time, she'd say, as she cued up the song once again. Just one more time, she'd say again after that, and by then it would already be close to midnight.

She stared at herself in the mirror, shaking with frustration and fatigue. Her chest heaved harshly as she tried desperately to calm her breath.

Hoshi shot her a worried glance. "Nana, take a break."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Practice is done anyways. The car's ready, pack up." He grabbed her hand to drag her towards their things.

Cyana shook her hand out from his grasp, shooting him a tired smile. "You can go first, Soonie. I'll stay a little bit longer. I want to try Getting Closer again."

Hoshi frowned at her words. "We've already stayed late, nana-yah. Everyone's already left. And you've been staying late for the past two weeks. Let's take a break, okay?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "It's fine, really."

He looked at her apprehensively, not quite believing her. Sighing, he reluctantly agreed, knowing there was no stopping her. "Please be home by at least two am."

She nodded absentmindedly, already turning back around to cue up the track. She made sure Hoshi really had left before continuing, concentrating on perfecting her angles and facial expression. She had failed the company test - when the higher-ups came and decided she wasn't good enough - her ego burned from the hit and she vowed to work even harder. The members had told her she was already amazing, but she couldn't believe them if the company officials didn't think so.

She hadn't told any of the boys she hadn't been returning home. Most of her essentials were stored safely in one of the drawers in their practice room - saving her both the time and energy it took to return home. This way she could wash up and change before immediately getting back to practice.

"Oh, Jeonghan oppa." She answered when he called her phone.

"Nana, where are you?" His voice sounded muffled and tired. "Hoshi texted and said you're still at the company."

She checked the time. 3:26 AM. "Oh. I decided to crash at Mingyu's place." She lied, wincing. She hated lying to him whenever he called to check in. It was pure luck that no one really ever confirmed with Mingyu that she had actually been staying over. "I'm about to go to sleep. You should too, oppa."

She heard Jeonghan sigh in relief. "Okay, good. Goodnight, Nana." He hung up, probably way too tired.

Placing her phone back down on the floor, she glanced once again at the time. It was late. Her body was sore and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. Dragging her feet towards the connected washroom, she was glad they'd installed showers. Cleaning herself up and changing, she returned back to the practice room and crashed on the couch. Just a couple hours, she thought to herself.

"Cyana."

She opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness and letting out a groan. "What time is it?"

A very confused Dino stared back at her. "7 AM." He helped her to sit up, frowning when he saw her wince. "Why are you sleeping here?"

Her eyes widened when she remembered where she was. She inwardly kicked herself for oversleeping. Usually she was able to wake up, get ready and change before everyone else began arriving. They always just assumed she had been the first to arrive. "I-" Feeling rather caught, Cyana could only stare up at Dino wordlessly.

He seemed to catch on rather quickly. "Cyana." He looked at her, disappointment written plainly across his face. "Have you been living here?"

"No!" She protested, knowing he'd 100% tell Jeonghan if she admitted to it and Jeonghan would 100% kill her. "I was just practicing last night and fell asleep, that's all."

He gave her a weird look. "Alright, just-" He sighed. "You really don't need to be pushing yourself so hard. You're already ready."

Cyana gave him a hard stare. Perhaps it was the pain or the lack of sleep, but her nerves were wearing thin. She pushed herself off the couch, walking to the washroom. Splashing water on her face, she attempted to wake herself up.

"Please don't tell the others." She begged Dino once she returned. "Please please please." He looked unconvinced. "Please." She said again. "They'll kill me and you know it."

He sighed. "Fine." He pointed a finger at her, his poor attempt at being stern. "But you've got to promise me it's the last time."

"Got it." She promised, although she knew she'd probably end up breaking it. "Thanks, Chan."

He laughed softly, wrapping his arms gently around her waist, frowning when he felt how skinny she had gotten. He was about to comment on it when the practice doors opened and a hoard of members rushed in, all still slightly half-asleep.

"Aigoo~" Seungkwan cooed at the position they'd caught them in. "Our maknaes are so cute."

Dino flushed, trying to pull away but pausing when he realized Cyana was leaning on him, her eyes closed.

"Is she okay?" Jun mumbled, sipping on his ice coffee and glancing at the girl.

"Hm?" Cyana opened an eye, jumping a bit at the sudden appearance of so many people. "Oh! You're all here."

"Yup." Vernon walked over, ruffling her hair. "You ready?"

She sighed, reluctantly detaching herself from Dino, shivering at the loss of his body heat. "I guess."

Jeonghan had thought something was off from the way Cyana sounded over the phone. She sounded sick and incredibly out of it, her words slurring slightly as she spoke to him. He would've pressed the girl for more answers, but Hoshi's text had woken him up mid-sleep and he was aching to the state of passing out.

Even as they started practice, Jeonghan's mind drifted from the choreo over to Cyana. His mental list of things wrong with her had been gradually growing over the week and he was getting concerned.

Jeonghan's mental list with things that are wrong about Cyana:

She's been saying over at Mingyu's a suspicious amount. Sure, he could understand, the Minwon residence was easily the quietest out of the bunch, and Mingyu was Cyana's closest friend. He figured Wonwoo was in his room most times anyways.

The amount of canceled plans the boys have been complaining about to him was increasing. It felt like every couple days, at least one member would approach him requesting a therapy session, where they just complained about how Cyana was ditching them for their usual hangouts.

He rarely ever saw the girl anywhere but the company. Under any other circumstance it would've been normal, but Cyana had expressed before she hated the feeling of captivity the company gave her.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat something.

He could've continued listing reasons in his head, had it not been for the loud thud and a piercing screech that followed it. He froze mid dance move and spun towards the noise.

Cyana was on the floor, Woozi a mere step away from her as he crouched down to examine her. DK was apologizing for the loud scream, although he continued to panic loudly.

"I think she fainted." Woozi concluded, voice calm. His furrowed eyebrows were the only sign he was worried.

"Fainted?" DK gasped out loud.

Mingyu reached down and scooped the girl into his arms, depositing her on the couch. "Yeah, she's out."

"Is she injured?" Seungcheol asked, hovering over her as Mingyu checked. He sighed with relief when Mingyu shook his head. "It was a loud thud."

Jeonghan let out a groan of both realization and disappointment.

"What." Seungcheol whipped his head around at the sound of Jeonghan's groan. "Do you know something?" He pointed at Cyana, who was still laying limply on the couch, head supported by Mingyu's large hand. "Why is she like this?"

Jeonghan raised his hands in defence. "I only suspected. I mean- I thought it was weird she was sleeping over at Mingyu and Wonwoo's so often recently but-"

"What?" Wonwoo cut him off. "She hasn't been over since-" He flushed at the memory. "Since she hurt her ankle."

And all at once, the pieces seemed to fall into place in Jeonghan's mind.

"She's been living here, hasn't she." Dino beat him to the punch, stating what he had just realized. "I found her here asleep when I came in this morning."

They all turned to Seungcheol, who seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at Cyana.

Cyana awoke just in time to see Seungcheol leave, the practice room door swinging shut behind him. She struggled to get up, as strong hands grabbed her and situated her to lean back. A bottle of water was shoved wordlessly into her hands by Vernon, already opened.

"You scared us." Mingyu muttered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She was vaguely aware of the other boys standing around her. Her ears still rang but she could faintly hear Woozi talking to Jun.

"I swear I tried to catch her. I didn't let her drop on purpose." He was defending himself to a wary Jun. "I'm not that mean."

She would have smiled at how defensive he sounded had it not been for the glowering face of Jeonghan, who was staring holes into her skull.

"Everyone out, please." Jeonghan signalled the others to give them the room. He sat down next to Cyana, letting out a loud sigh once everyone had left.

She knew she was in for it now.

"You wanna tell me what's been going on?" He said quietly, rubbing the seam of her sleeve between his thumb and index finger. "No lies this time."

She felt a lump form in her throat. "Jeonghan-"

"I'm not mad, Cyana." He looked at her sadly. "I just want to know why you haven't been taking care of yourself."

On any other occasion, she would have argued that he was mad. He hadn't used 'Nana' when saying her name.

"You haven't been staying at Mingyu's, I know that for a fact. And you've been canceling plans with the members. You also haven't been eating well. Jun says you rarely take the breakfast he sets aside for you." He continued, frowning when he saw her eyes well up with tears.

"I'm sorry." It was all she could muster.

"I don't care that you lied, Cyana." Jeonghan wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb. "Just tell me why. Are we doing something wrong?"

She shook her head frantically. "No." God no.

"Then why?"

She finally looked up from her lap to see him, feeling an ache in her chest when she saw how desperate his expression was.

"The company officials-" She paused, and Jeonghan nodded for her to go on. "they said I wasn't good enough. Not quite good enough to debut with seventeen. They said they had a lot bet on me but I was disappointing them."

She got worried when he stayed silent. "Oppa?" She whispered, reaching out tentatively to shake him.

He laced his hand in hers before she could reach him. "I'm sorry they said all that." He turned to look at her, a serious expression taking over his face. "But you know they're wrong, and even if you think they're right, you shouldn't have risked your own health like that."

Cyana nodded. "I know. I just-" She tried to find the words to explain. "I just wanted to debut so badly. I wanted to look good onstage next to all of you." It was a lame explanation but it was the best she could give.

"I know." Jeonghan nodded. "And you will." He pointed at the large mirrors on the wall in front of where they sat. "I watch you dance with us everyday through those mirrors. And you look beautiful. Full of talent and raw power."

She let out a shaky breath.

"Is that why you haven't been eating your meals?" He asked, looking back at her. "Did they say something about that too?"

She nodded. It was perhaps the comment that had hurt her the most. "They said I looked too heavy. That I was supposed to be a girl member. Not a boy."

Jeonghan let out a huff. "Who the fuck-" He muttered, almost to himself. "Give me the names of the people, I'll talk to them."

Cyana smiled despite the heavy setting. "They're higher-ups, Hannie. You can't do anything."

"Psh." Jeonghan waved away her concern. "Still. I'll write their names down and get rid of them once we're big enough."

She supposed she admired his optimism. "Okay." She relented. "I'll find their names and text them to you."

Jeonghan leaned his head on the crook of her shoulder, slouching a bit to reach it. "You know we love you, right?"

She didn't say anything.

"You don't have to believe it now." He said softly. "I know you're a bit weird about stuff like that." He squeezed her hand firmly. "Just need you to hear it."

She nodded. "Okay."

They sat in silence for awhile, and Cyana's ears stopped ringing. "Where did Seungcheol-oppa go?" She whispered, curious but not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment.

Jeonghan cracked an eye open from his spot on her shoulder. "He's dealing with it his own way."

"Dealing with what?"

He sat up straight to look at her. "You fainting. He's our leader, he's going to feel the responsibility."

She frowned. "It's not his fault though."

Jeonghan shrugged. "It's just how he works. He's going to blame himself for not noticing it all sooner either way. Even if it's not his fault."

She stood up, swaying a bit before steadying herself. "I'm gonna go look for him, is that okay?"

She could swear Jeonghan was smirking a little. "I think he'd like that."

She found him in one of the empty studios. Seungcheol was sitting on one of the chairs when she walked in, head in his hands. He got up quickly once he heard the sound of her footsteps.

"Cyana." He breathed out, thankful she was okay. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She whispered, sitting down and motioning gently for him to join her. She watched him hesitate before he sat down next to her.

"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard." Seungcheol scolded her.

"I know."

"And you should've told someone you weren't going back to the dorm. You should've let me know how much you were struggling."

"I know."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Tell me what happened. Everything leading up to today. I assume this has been going on for awhile."

She could tell from his face he meant business, so she told him without a fight. She recited everything - the skipped meals, the ditching hangouts, the sleeping in the practice room, the toothbrush and skincare hidden in the drawers - all of it. She saw his face twist in pain when she got to the part about the company officials.

"You should've told me." He whispered, once she was all done.

"I thought perhaps you didn't want to know." She admitted.

He looked astonished she would even say such a thing. His mouth opened and closed again as he reconsidered his choice of words. "I'm your leader, Cyana. I care about this team."

"And I'm doing my job." She said, not getting what he meant. Wasn't SEVENTEEN doing quite well? And the team would do even better if she was perfect for the comeback.

Seungcheol didn't know if he wanted to strangle her and cry. "Let me reiterate." He looked at her. "I care about you, Cyana. Not the comeback."

She blinked. "Oh."

He felt more like crying, Seungcheol decided. She looked so fragile and confused at the mere thought of him even caring about her. A burning sense of rage fuelled through him. Who on earth had taught her to be so skeptical of care and love?

Cyana panicked when she saw the tears in Seungcheol's eyes. "Please don't cry." She whispered frantically, not knowing what would happen to her if she saw the dependable and strong Seungcheol break down.

"Our maknae~" Seungcheol whispered back, reaching over to brush his hand against her cheek. "Maybe I didn't do well enough, to show you you belong here. I tried being a strong leader, guiding everyone through the comeback, letting you adjust to how busy life in SEVENTEEN can be. But maybe you needed more of a gentle touch? Something more personal?" At this point he seemed to be talking to himself. "I know I didn't really take the time to connect with you on a deeper level like the others did. I was so focused on guiding you through work. I must've done something wrong, if you felt like you needed to hide this much from me. Push yourself this far."

Cyana's lips trembled as she desperately held back tears. "It's not your fault."

"It is." Seungcheol corrected her quietly. "I always strived to be a leader you could tell anything to." He paused, looking at her with sad eyes. "I'm sorry you felt the need to break yourself so much to make this comeback happen. I'm sorry the company said such harsh things. I should've noticed."

Cyana felt the sudden strong urge to give him a hug. It confused her. She only ever felt comfortable enough to initiate any sort of contact with Jeonghan, Dino, Joshua or Mingyu. Yet, when Seungcheol finished his speech and looked at Cyana with those sad, wide eyes, she decided perhaps she could make an exception. She leaned slightly in his side, stiffing slightly when his arms wrapped around her frame.

"It's not your fault." She managed to say again, telling herself to relax into his hold.

"I know it's not logical."

Cyana let out a breathy laugh. "I am sorry I lied to Jeonghan."

"I know." Seungcheol pulled her a little closer. "Please don't ever do this again. All of it. You're much more important than a silly comeback."

She nodded. "I won't."

"I'll talk with the company about the whole test thing. They shouldn't have done that, or said those things. And you need to start eating." Now that he was hugging her, he could feel just how malnourished she was. He felt as if he could accidentally snap her just by moving the wrong way. "I'll talk to the stylists too. Everyone needs a good reminder that you're part of SEVENTEEN forever."

Cyana's face flushed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled again, feeling bad for making him so worried. "I didn't know it'd hurt you so much."

Seungcheol let her go, giving her a sad look. "I hated seeing you like that. You were so pale and fragile."

She didn't know what to do with the amount of loving words she was receiving today. She looked away awkwardly. "I'll be more careful now, I promise."

She could hear the smile that overtook his face despite not looking at him. "Good." He said. "Start getting it into your head that you're important."

Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol monitored her as she cleared out her drawer and any other sign that she had been living in the practice room. She promised them both that she'd return everything back home and that she'd keep them there.

"You scared me." DK whined. "I thought you'd died."

Cyana was grateful at how lighthearted the atmosphere was once her and Seungcheol had returned to the practice room. Everyone was still obviously worried, but they seemed to have all decided not to sour the mood further. Everyone had noticed the watery eyes from both Cyana and Seungcheol as they returned but pretended not to.

"I'm sorry~" Cyana smiled at DK's dramatics.

"Ah, hyung- it was your scream that scared me the most." Dino butted in, cackling at the memory. "I was mid move and I heard a blood-curdling cry. I thought I was in a horror movie."

The others laughed along, each of them relating to the younger boy.

Joshua sidled up to Cyana amidst the chaos Dino's remark had brought, holding her waist to support her as his eyes roamed her face for any sign of lingering fatigue. "You sure you're alright?"

Cyana nodded, grateful for the warmth radiating from his body. "Yeah. Sorry."

He shook his head. "No more apologizing. Just join Hoshi, Seungkwan, Myungho and I for dinner later today, okay? We're going to check out this new restaurant Hoshi found online."

"Okay."

From the other side of the room, Seungcheol clapped for everyone's attention. "Okay! We're resuming practice!" He looked at Cyana. "You're going home." He pointed at her. "Don't argue with me."

"What?" She protested. She was feeling fine. "I'm fine!" She insisted.

Her remark was met by a roomful of protests, even Woozi and Wonwoo joined in as everyone told her to get the fuck home.

"No really!" She protested again once the noise died down. "Please, Coups-oppa. I won't push myself too hard, promise."

She watched him think it over. She could practically see it as he fought himself. "Fine." He finally relented. "But-"

She paused her celebration.

"You're sitting out for practice. You can watch and take notes, but no dancing."

She sighed, but she knew it was the best she was getting out of him. "Fine."

As she sat on the couch, notebook in hand as she took notes on the performance, she couldn't help but glance towards their leader. He was working hard, giving 120% like he did with everything he put his mind to. She felt a glow of gratitude towards him. For a second, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps she did belong here, with these people. And perhaps him and Jeonghan were right - those people had just been mean and she was already good the way she was.

author's note: wahhhh thank you so much for reading! this one was quite a ride - writing about scoups as the leader always sends tears to my eyes, we truly don't deserve him. next fic is cyana's debut fic (finally!)

[bubblew0lf1]

Just went through your dragon AU and I am INVESTED. I love dragons so much and I am definitely very partial to Jedi as dragons. I was curious though, because from what I understand, Yoda is one of the only current dragons with feathers. And Obi-Wan being small and feathered was what put so many off of taking him as a Padawan. Did they not want to take him on because they didn't think they'd be able to properly care for him? Because I wouldn't think it'd be discrimination because the Order's Grandmaster is also feathery. Love your art and ideas!

Thank you for the question! Im glad you like the au 😊

It's mostly a combination of multiple things. Obi wan is small for his age, and the order knows very little about stewjoni dragons In the first place, so at first they think that that is around his final size for quite a while. He also, not only has feathers but also doesn't have scales, which plays a slightly bigger part compared to the feathers.

Wookie dragons also don't have scales, but they have size on their size so most Jedi don't bother with that detail (also some of them have horns as well).

One of the biggest things is however, is the fact that while he is a winged dragon, he cannot fly (for quite a while actually, but the reason is a spoiler😅 but he will learn later)

There's also things I kept from the apprentice series, which is Obi-Wan having a hard time controlling his emotions for example.

One by one these things could be overlooked by masters, but this combination of problems, is what causes most Jedi to think that Obi-Wan would not be fit for the role of Padawan, or Jedi knight.

(they are wrong of course, and most of these things change with time, but again the reasons are spoilers:D)

[wren-kitchens]

i will hurt you, almost definitely (ask the people who have left me)

1454 words

the chests in the barn aren't the most comfortable of chairs, but gem is just making do, anyway. she's been staring at the scratch in the mangrove that she's pretty sure is from when mumbo took all their torches for about ten minutes now, mind entirely elsewhere. there's nothing- it- she's not sure. but.. she and joel seem to be on-track to winning this whole thing. so the question isn’t how will they win—because frankly she's pretty sure they've got it covered if they just keep doing whatever it is they’re doing—it's what happens next. because- it's terrifying to think that gem would have to repeat history, and she's sure- she's almost certain that she won't. they'd- if they both get to the end, they'll find a way to do it fairly. they'll- they could make another fight club. and then- then it's fair. neither of them will betray each other, she's- gem is almost sure.

yea I wrote this in about a day I think I was possessed by the spirit of toxic yuri

i'm not too great at writing arguments yet so if it feels awkward or rushed just pretend it doesn't tyty

here is part two!!

the chests in the barn aren't the most comfortable of chairs, but gem is just making do after all. she's been staring at the scratch in the mangrove that she's pretty sure is from when mumbo took all their torches for about ten minutes now, mind entirely elsewhere. there's nothing- it- she's not sure. but.. she and joel seem to be on-track to winning this whole thing. so the question isn’t how will they win—because frankly she's pretty sure they've got it covered if they just keep doing whatever it is they’re doing—it's what happens next.

because- it's terrifying to think that gem would have to repeat history, and she's sure- she's almost sure that she won't. they'd- if they both get to the end, they'll find a way to do it fairly. they'll- they could make another fight club. and then- then it's fair. neither of them will betray each other, she's- gem is almost sure.

gem never really.. forgot what that was like. the image of pearl's face, stony and serious in the way it never is, circles in her mind every minute of every day, coupled with that agonising aching in gem's chest as she realised what that expression meant for her- for them. the way pearl spoke- as if she didn’t even know- of course she didn't want to- how could she even think-

there's a kind of creaking that doesn’t feel familiar, and gem stays as still as she can, listening as the noise seems to move. it's above her, she realises with a jolt, in the attic. gem pulls out her sword, slowly and silently, tensing as she hears the gentle sound of footsteps descending the ladder behind her. she's died once today, and that is absolutely enough for her- whoever this intruder may be is in for an unpleasant surprise.

the sound of a sword unsheathed, and within an instant, gem's blade flies to meet pearl's- and something in her burns. gem pushes herself off the chests, fighting with an intensity she hasn't needed to use since secret life; pearl clearly wasn't expecting it, if the look on her face is anything to go by. it takes but a few moments for gem to disarm her, sword at her throat, panting.

"once wasn't enough?" gem says, and something shifts in pearl's expression. "or is this some kind of tradition now?"

pearl is grinning, as if she has any right. "c'mon, I had to give it a shot, didn't I? yellow and all- who else was I going to kill?"

anger bubbles up in gem's chest, and she swipes her sword at pearl's face- slicing a clean cut across her cheek. "you’re just asking to be red, aren't you?"

it appears that pearl didn’t expect anything other than banter—and maybe she didn't expect to win in the first place—because it takes her a moment to recover. she dabs a hand against the cut, and blinks in surprise when her fingers come back bloody. "I- y’know, I didn't do it to hurt you-"

"kill me?" gem says, voice sharper than she expected it to be. "you didn’t kill me to hurt me-"

"I didn't fight you because I wanted you to die, I fought you because I wanted scar to live." pearl pushes herself to her feet, grin gone from her face. "I couldn’t have both-"

"you could have let it be fair." gem's voice breaks a little, even as it rings through the still air. "you just- you just sacrificed yourself for him, you didn't let me have a chance."

pearl takes a breath. "I wanted him to win-"

"oh- and I bet he thanks you for that!" gem throws her arms out. "you- he was- do you even know?"

"so you wanted that fate?" pearl demands, and gem is pulled up short. "is that what this is about- you wanted to be stuck in purgatory for a year? is that it?" 

gem rakes a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "of course I didn't-"

"so why is it a problem?" pearl half laughs, and gem notices that the sword has left her hand. "you- you don't want to have won- what else is there?"

"I thought we were friends." gem says, and it's not quite a lie. her chest aches as she watches pearl's expression shift into that stupid sympathetic look everyone has given her whenever she says that. 

everyone but joel. he gets it- more than she thought he would.

"we are friends, I just-"

"no, you don't- you don’t get to do that." gem takes a step forward. "you don’t get to- to spout the same shit i’ve heard from everyone else. 'it's just the games', 'you guys are still friends'- no, you broke my trust."

pearl gives a helpless sigh. "I don’t- what else do you want me to say? you’re-"

"if you say 'new' I will rip your throat out." gem says through bared teeth. "weren't you?"

pearl blinks, gaze darting to the side- to the exit. "I- what?" 

gem finds herself moving unconsciously- to block any kind of escape pearl might have. her heart claws at her ribs. "when scott left you? the person  you were supposed to trust- did that hurt? or were you just new?"

"gem," pearl takes a step backwards. "what- what are you getting at here?"

there are tears in her eyes, and gem blinks them away. "I thought you’d get it. you- you lived it, I thought you’d stay."

"it's not the same thing." pearl's voice is harsher now- gem hit a nerve. 

"it's close enough." gem says, fists clenched, shoulders tense. "it's close enough that you should know how much it hurts." 

pearl shakes her head, moving in a way that's almost pacing, but far too jerky and disordered to quite count. there's a stab of regret, and gem hates herself for it. "no. no, it's- that is not the same. he- he left me- i’d done nothing-"

"what did I do?" gem's voice wavers, and she can’t help it. "did-" she can barely finish, and she hates it. "did I do something to you?"

"it- we were soulmates." pearl says, a little more certain- a little more confident that gem can’t find an argument for that. "you and I.." she hesitates, no longer as sure.

gem exhales shortly. "did you- was I not as important?" 

all of a sudden, pearl snaps. "can you just let it go?" she demands, and gem flinches. "it was a year ago- that's just how it goes, okay? why are you so- so fixated on it?"

and before gem can even think about what she's doing- "because I love you!" she yells, and the words echo through the room as if they were in a cave. 

pearl is staring at her as if she'd just stabbed herself in the chest, and gem feels extinguished. "so is that- is that good enough for you?" there are tears falling down her face, and she can’t bring herself to care about it. "is that- is that close enough to soulmates? do you want me to elaborate about how it felt, or can you just agree that it fucking hurt when you killed me like I was nothing."

"so- so you can go back to your impulse, and your cleo, and your scott." gem spits, wiping her eyes. "and you can- you can pretend you’re their loyal dog, and you and scott can do what you always do and die before things get hard and call it a noble sacrifice." gem pushes the gate open. "but I don't want to see you again until i’m the one taking you out of the series." 

"I- gem-" pearl catches her wrist, and gem has her sword out before she's even fully turned around.

her hand shakes, but her gaze is steely. pearl is crying too, and a part of gem just wants to give in and pull her close- but it's only a small part. "pearl, you know me too well to think i'm bluffing."

pearl takes a short breath, and drops gem's hand. as gem lowers her sword, pearl slips out of the back entrance and disappears into the night. gem watches as she runs across the bridge, into the woods, until her silhouette is indistinguishable from the shadows cast by the birch trees- and gem crumples to the floor.

the moon is high in the sky by the time joel finds her there, and the sun is up by the time gem has stopped crying. but there's something in the centre of her chest, something burning red—and there's something else too.

gem is going to win this game.

[part-time-zombie]

Y'know, I may have an idea of why Janus hates Roman so much.

(besides the whole name reveal incident of course)

It always seemed that Janus kinda looked down on Roman even from the very start, but didn't make it clear until flattering him didn't give him what he wanted.

So he doesn't like Roman, and likely never really did, but why? They have a lot in common: dramatic flair, love of theater, fashionable and a fan of gossip, i think they'd at least have a friendly rivalry like pre-aa prinxiety did, so why not?

I think it's because their one key difference is too much to ignore (and no, I'm not talking about their hero/villain aesthetics, if anything they'd appreciate the banter they'd get from it).

Roman has an image to maintain. Janus does too, but his is much more based on personality, not perception. People want him to be the bad guy, and since it gets things done he'll play along.

Roman's the ego, his image is much more important to him.

Roman needs to be seen as the good guy, the hero. The only reason he's split from Remus is because Patton wants him to be a representation of everything good and pure about creativity. He's built his entire role around being a prince, knight, and hero, all of which are expected to prioritize honor, integrity, and altruism. He can't allow himself to be selfish, or it'll risk destroying the persona he has built for himself. Patton taught him that the right thing to do is put others before yourself, and he's already learned by now that his arrogance is a flaw that people disapprove of, so of course he'd think that committing to total selflessness would remedy his past mistakes (i.e. focusing on himself).

Janus, however, knows that Roman is holding himself back by doing this, and that if he were to stop caring so much about his image he'd be way better off. He also knows, though, that Roman won't realize that. He's too worried about maintaining his princely role to let himself be selfish, and Janus has no time for that.

What this leads to is Janus wanting Roman to stop caring what everyone else thinks and start caring about himself, and Roman going "you know what? I'm going to start caring about my image even more" and Janus just calling him an idiot for it.

This of course doesn't help, because when Janus is seen as the bad guy/villain to Roman's good guy/hero, it only makes him even more resistant to align himself with those ideals. What kind of hero agrees with a villain, anyway?

TLDR: Janus hates that Roman cares so much about his pride without realizing that he is Pride, and that not caring about it would be like not caring about himself.

[procyonloser]

Pt 6

Lucifer's head was still pounding as they filed out of the bar, pushing between groups of people. Lucifer was trying to say sorry, excuse me, pardon me - but Adam was tall enough to just push through everyone, tugging Lucifer along behind him.

Lucifer hadn't been to a concert in ages, and the last few times he'd been to one, they'd been classical music productions, rather than rock bands on a makeshift stage in a bar filled with smoke, only some of which was tobacco. His lungs burned, and welcomed the fresh air as they left, but Lucifer couldn't say he didn't enjoy himself. Maybe it wasn't his exact taste, but it made him feel young again, and watching Adam rock out to the music beside him was a pleasant enough experience.

They got aways down the sidewalk, and slowed down, night air biting at them after the stuffiness of the bar.

"Did you hate it?" Adam asked him, finally letting go of Lucifer's hand, like he'd just realized he was still holding it.

"No, I just haven't done anything like that in ages." Lucifer said with a small laugh, though he missed the body contact. "You know I'm a judge, right?"

Adam paused, staring at him with slightly wide eyes. No, clearly he did not.

"Aren't you too young for that?" Adam asked, eyebrows knit together. "You look like, 22."

"I'm 35," Lucifer said slightly wearily. It wasn't uncommon for people to underestimate his age, given his height and face. He still got carded everywhere he went with alcohol.

"Oh," Adam blinked. "I'm 29."

"Hi, 29, I'm dad." Lucifer said, without thinking about it, turning red shortly after. Adam just snorted at the comment, smiling down at him.

"You're cute. You want to go get something to eat at the carts?" Adam asked, but Lucifer wanted him to linger longer on the cute comment. He preened under the compliment, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he'd say that.

"Carts? Food carts? I haven't been, are they good?"

"If the food wasn't good I wouldn't gain a pound everytime I come here." Adam grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him along again. "Come on, I want to show you my favorite places."

If Lucifer had been a cartoon, he would have floated behind the man with little heart eyes, but instead he was left just letting Adam take the lead.

The food cart area was cuter than Lucifer was expecting, now that night had fallen, the lights hung up around the pavilion were letting off a soft ethereal glow, and each table had a small gas fireplace in it, flickering blue and warm. Adam went cart by cart, greeting people and telling Lucifer what the best food was at each place.

Lucifer ended up getting a falafel sandwich and platter, while Adam got a sandwich that defied explanation at first glance, but looked good none the less. It was huge, dripping juices and cheese, and Adam took a big enthusiastic bite out of it.

"Do you come here often?" Lucifer asked, and Adam nodded, swallowing, before pausing.

"Not on dates. Just, yeah, I come here pretty often. I'm not a good cook." Adam told him.

"I am," Lucifer said instantly. "I could cook for you."

Adam raised an eyebrow at him, resting his chin in his free palm as he looked at him across the table. "You'll cook for me... tomorrow morning?"

Lucifer knew it wasn't a great idea, he had to go to work still; hell, he was still tired after earlier today, and he'd even left a couple hours early for the date. But, he couldn't say no.

"Anything you want," Lucifer answered softly, and Adam leaned across the table to kiss him.