#*wails melodramatically*

[starry-bi-sky]

*grips your shoulders* an eight year old is not gonna act like that. put the pen down. close the laptop. stop writing for a minute. volunteer at a daycare center for a week or smth. an eight year old is typically (unless they're purposely doing it, but at that point you'll be able to tell) not going to speak in one word sentences. that is a child with a possible developmental delay and should probably get an assessment done. that is a two year old with an MLU score of 2.0 who is struggling with their present possessive verbs. look up the average heights of an eight year old because i promise they're bigger than that.

if your six year old is still doing reduplicated babbling and it's not clearly an on purpose active play decision, then they should probably (re: REALLY) undergo evaluation because one of the first signs of a developmental delay is delayed speech. children begin speaking in two word utterances as young as 18 months old. three year olds on average can hold simple conversations with adults. four year olds absoLUTELy can.

i know it's super fun to write children as being dependent and clingy to their parent for your super fluffy found family child fic but that is not a six year old that is a worryingly large two year old with a mild speech delay. you don't have to be 1:1 accurate, god knows i'm not but please at least know that children on average are capable of holding simple conversations by the time they're 4, and are usually doing the baby talk stuff to be cute or as a play thing. which isn't a bad thing but if they're talking like that unironically and ALL the time, then there is likely a problem in their development.

[tenantoftheorpheumcircuit]

Auiuiuiiuuuuu

I wish there was a bigger chrestomanci fandom </3 i love those books SO much. In my heart there is an active role play community and many fan arts and animatics and fan made ocs etc…

[fisheito]

i am still sulking about no aster. (give me a few days and a couple watermelons and i'll be back to normal)

[tristantzara]

the other thing about the musical version of chicago, or at least the film adaptation of the musical, that disappointed me was that roxie didn't act like a freak during her trial. but again it makes sense. the musical is a lot more serious than the play.

[chryzuree]

anyway, aurora’s settling in vv well in the chryzure household. first of all, she’s allowed to be as melodramatic as she wants & azure encourages it. second of all, she gets to have pets that want to cuddle w her?? ☹️🤧 third of all, because azure keeps adopting many, many children, she finally gets to feel what it’s like to be an older sister + have siblings that actually care about her ☹️☹️☹️

[marshmellowtea]

STOP. posting about the comedy about spies in the goes wrong show tags. you're making me sad i can't see it

[naamahdarling]

ID: Two small, fat, and beautiful colorpoint cats mill about on the floor, which is strewn with toys, begging for food with enormous jewel-blue eyes.

The little white and gray female cries piteously, like a young child who is melodramatically but effectively portraying an orphan in a school play.

The white and brown male, with barely a pause for breath, somehow lets forth a tireless wailing louder and more despairing than that of the forsaken souls of the dead who rend their clothes and pound their fists helplessly into the cold and muddy banks of the River of Lamentation.

There is no other dialog.

[katyawriteswhump]

scent of a (soul)mate 💖🍌💖

Rating: M; WC: 2722; CW: none; Tags: O!Steve, A!Eddie, fluff, scentmates, scenting, rejection sickness, mild hurt/comfort, snuggling and cuddling, matchmaking. For @stmarchmm day 10 prompt, ‘rejection sickness’ and day 11 prompt, ‘scenting,’ and @steddiebingo fill, ‘fruit.’ Summary: O!Steve has been dumped by Tommy and Carol, and is suffering from major rejection sickness. A!Eddie reluctantly rocks up to provide ‘platonic’ healing snuggles… Read on Ao3

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“Let me get this straight.” Eddie discarded his notes and glared across the trailer at Gareth. “You want me to pause creating the most metal campaign in the history of D and D… and go snuggle the third most obnoxious student who ever doomed the halls of Hawkins High? Because he’s been dumped by the only two dickwads who were more obnoxious?”

“He’s not so bad,” mumbled Gareth, hilariously squirmy. “We’re friends now. Henderson adores him. It’s not like Steve was ever around when Tommy and Carol were slamming me up against the lockers.”

Eddie grinded his teeth at the memory. “No shit. Protecting you was my job.”

“That’s my point! You’re the best at looking out for Omegas. Without being threatening or trying to get in their panties.”

“You calling me unthreatening?” Eddie poked his tongue and clawed the air, grizzly-style.

“You’re terrifying, Eddie. Just… hear me out, okay?”

Eddie indulged his friend, as ever, and most of Steve’s history, he knew. Steve had been joined at the hips with Tommy and Carole since Middle School. When Steve presented Omega, and the other two presented Alpha, nothing changed.

Apart from that Eddie avoided Steve like a plague of frat-boy zombies, and not only because the Omega was a total brat.

Eddie got within ten yards of Harrington he was pretty much drooling. The Omega’s scent—not to mention that dumb preppy hair and those pretty eyes—drove him loopy, and there was no way he was making a fool of himself with Tommy and Carol’s bitch.

What Eddie didn’t know was that, since they’d graduated, Steve’s Alphas had been treating him like a toy they’d grown bored of.

A month ago, they’d cut him completely.

When his parents refused to cut short a business trip to care for him, isolation sickness had aggravated rejection sickness. In the end, Steve had been too poorly to come to the door. Robin Buckley got Chief Hopper around to break into the Harrington’s house and take Steve to the hospital.

Yeah, it was all deeply tragic.

As were Gareth’s huge, woeful eyes and his melodramatic telling of the tale, which rivalled Eddie’s best Dungeon Master act. Boo-hoo, poor little rich kid, cue the wailing violins.

Half an hour later, Eddie was at the store trying to figure out what gift to take to visit a sick and admittedly cute Omega who he didn’t actually like.

Oh, and getting weird looks from other shoppers for wandering around muttering to himself.

“No chocolates, no candy-ass flowers. Wroooong message, Munson. I mean, what are you doing getting a gift?” Truth was, some crazy Alpha instinct forced him to it, and fortunately inspiration struck. “Okay. Fruit. That’s what you take for sick Omegas when you have zero intention of jumping their bones… courting… whatever.”

He opted for a bunch of bananas and headed straight to Hopper’s place. The Chief took in waifs and strays of all designations, of which Steve was the latest. Eddie puffed out his cheeks, rolled on extra blockers, and got out of the van.

Instantly, he got a whiff of that insanely glorious… ahem, no, cloying caramelised-peaches-with-watermelon-and-vodka scent that used to drive him nuts at High School.  That’d had him trying to recreate it in a punch bowl for the past year and totally failing.

He should’ve run for the hills while he still had hope. Instead, finding the front door unlocked, he followed his nose and peeped in.

Steve was lying on the sofa bouncing a softball off the ceiling.

Okay, should Eddie knock? Cough? Say hi?

Too late.

Steve startled and tumbled off the couch, landing with a thud and a squeak.

“Shit!” Eddie rushed inside to help.

…

Steve slowly sat up then flopped his back against the side of the couch, head spinning.

What was Eddie Munson doing here? Why was he carrying a bunch of bananas—Steve’s favorite food—which smelled super-crazy levels of deliciousness?

“You okay?” Eddie dumped the fruit and crouched at Steve’s side, looking almost as spooked as Steve.

“Yeah,” panted Steve, hand over his still-racing heart. “Thought you were Hop. Figured he’d be mad I was playing ball inside.” To be fair, Steve’s jumpiness came from years of anticipating his father’s reactions. Hop would’ve forgiven him. Probably. “There’s nothing on TV and I’m bored out of my skull.”

“You always did love your ball-in-laundry-basket games,” said Eddie, with an only-slightly-derisive smirk.

Steve gave him a look, revving up to tell him he’d waaaaay rather have been playing his guitar. If he could’ve staggered far enough to fetch it from his room. Eddie got in first:

“I’m sorry. You’re cool. You happy on the floor, Sweetie, or you want a hand?”

Sweetie? Steve giggled and instantly forgave Eddie. That giant crush he’d had on the Alpha in senior year rushed back like it’d never left. “What d’ya reckon, shit-for-brains?”

A large Alpha hand hooked under his arm. Another found his hip, and he was carefully guided back onto the couch.

“What the heck are you doing here?” asked Steve, once nested back among his cushions and blankets. And still getting over the loss of that warm touch, which had sent shockingly pleasant shivers across his skin. “You looking for the Chief?”

“Nope.”

Eddie hovered a foot off and stared at him. Scarily intense. Steve faintly wondered why he wasn’t more scared about being alone, pretty much helpless, with a bad-boy Alpha, then dabbed his lips. Shit, maybe Eddie was staring because he had something gross on his face.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you, Harrington—”

“Steve,” squeaked Steve.

A smile twitched on the corner of Eddie’s lush lips, and… Wow, Steve hadn’t had much appetite for weeks and suddenly he was soooo hungry. Must be those bananas Eddie had brought with him, which Steve slid his attention to.

The aroma was incredible. There was a ton of muted scents drifting around this house, but right now… Nope, Steve only smelled banana, and it was the deepest, richest, creamiest banana he’d ever experienced, with dark salty undertones.

Wow.

“Gareth said you’d been struggling,” Eddie said, “and that the doctors pretty much prescribed platonic bodily contact with Alphas. So, yeah, not gonna push this or anything, but—

“I’m gonna kill him,” muttered Steve, facepalming. “Look, I appreciate it, um… Can I call you Eddie?”

“Sure.”

“Eddie, I’m on the mend. I’m past the so-sick-I-wanna-die stage—” and the humiliating can’t-stop-crying stage—“and to be ‘platonic’ I think you have to be friends. I know you hated my guts in High School. You don’t have to do this.”

“I never hated you,” said Eddie. “I hated your ex-Alphas. Gareth and Dustin say you’re a good dude. I trust them, and that makes us friends of friends, so… you want snuggles or not? It’s totally up to you.”

Steve peeped at Eddie from between his fingers, and somehow, he couldn’t lie: “I’d like snuggles.”

Eddie relaxed into yet another grin, this one deliciously wolfish: “Okay, Steve. You call the shots. How do you wanna do this?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

It was true. His parents didn’t believe in hugs, let alone snuggles. Carol and Tommy had only ever petted him after sex. He’d snuggled with Hop’s younger foster pups lately in the family nest, which had helped him start to heal.

He’d never had one-on-one snuggles with an Alpha before. Even platonic ones.

And now he was trembling like an idiot.

Eddie perched on the edge of the couch. “Nothing to worry about, Sweetie. We can take this slow, or I can leave, or—"

“No.” Steve grabbed Eddie’s wrist, and the strength of his grip shocked him. “I said I want snuggles. Please, Alpha.”

The awkwardness and furtive glances lasted only a few seconds. Then Eddie scooped Steve against his hip and enfolded both arms around him. Steve nestled his cheek on Eddie’s chest, and one of his own hands crept across to clasp Eddie’s shoulder. One of his knees notched itself up into Eddie’s lap, and he melted into Eddie as if they were born to fit together this way.

A caressing warmth literally seeped from the Alpha. Damn. He’d wasted nineteen years… without this?

“You okay, Steve?”

“Mmmmmm,” sighed Steve, as a wave of pure contentment washed over him. He wanted to sink into those hints of herby Alpha musk—into Eddie—like a hot bath. Okay, Eddie’s scent wasn’t quite as distracting as the bananas, which was a shame, but he wasn’t gonna complain. He was losing himself in a happy doze, when Eddie’s fingers started up gentle brushes on his hair, smoothing it behind his ear, then drifting to toy at his nape.

Steve no longer wanted to sleep. Eddie’s hand on his back was like warm oozing honey and Steve didn’t want to miss a thing. He burrowed so deep his nose was in danger of disappearing into Eddie’s armpit. It was clear Eddie was wearing blockers, which was a bummer. Eddie’s natural scent was complex, and Steve wanted to inhale as much as he could, as if to map it on his senses for a lonelier day. After all, the banana smell was out of this world, but it was Eddie he fancied.

Ooops! No, this is platonic. Keep those thoughts platonic, Harrington!

Eddie, meanwhile, was pretty chill. He chattered a bit, about D and D, and music, and all of it was actually pretty interesting. And he was so nice. Even though, one time Steve peeped up, Eddie was grimacing.

Spying Steve, he winked and grinned, and Steve decided not to ruin things by getting too anxious. Maybe Eddie was constipated or something.

That helpful thought didn’t dampen his attraction to Eddie for long. After a few more minutes snuggling, Steve wanted to purr his heart out. He managed to rein it in and then he was having thoughts that were so un-platonic that he bit his lip to the point of pain. Shit, if he got slick, or started to perfume, would Eddie get mad?

Think of something else, Harrington. Not about how hot he is, or how you used to fantasize about him fucking your brains out, when you were still with your exes. Oh my God, I’m gonna get slick! I’m gonna leak everywhere!

He tuned into the one thing that distracted him. The crazily potent scent of those bananas.

He imagined that firm stick of yumminess sliding between his lips, rolling his tongue around it. His stomach growled for it. Steve almost purred for it. And, fast-as-fucking-lightning, some primal need shoved aside all his skittishness and, apparently, his common-sense.

He sat bolt upright and fixed pleadingly on Eddie’s eyes. “I’m soooo hungry. Please, Alpha, can I have a banana?”

Eddie hooted. “Almost forgot I brought them.”

He reached to snap one from the bunch. As they sat side-by-side, he handed it to Steve. Steve pouted. If Eddie had chosen to feed it to him, who would he have been to argue?

With unsteady hands, Steve unpeeled the banana, then slid his lips over its rounded head. It tasted�� okay. Kind of bland. Not as earthshattering as he’d expected. Maybe he needed more?

He shoved half the banana into his mouth, bit it off. And choked.

“Hey, take it easy,” said Eddie, rubbing between Steve’s shoulder blades.

Having gulped the thing down, Steve was not in the mood to ‘take it easy.’ He was so damn confused, and cranky that he’d not gotten what he craved, and if what he craved wasn’t that dumb banana, then it had to be…

His nose was at Eddie’s neck before he could stop himself, scenting then licking, and… Ooookay, the blockers and being unwell had thrown him. No banana could send him loopy like this. If his spinning head was sure of one thing, it was that irresistible smell was definitely Eddie. Who now cupped the rear of Steve’s neck—no real pressure, simply holding him in place with a devastating, featherlight touch.

“Sweetie, you okay there?”

No… or maybe, yes. Slick trickled in Steve’s panties, and he jerked his chin up: “Will you kiss me?”

Eddie blinked. Then he licked his lips. That grin Steve was growing obsessed with spread slowly, bunching his cheeks into delicious dimples.

“Hop’s gonna kill me,” murmured Eddie, then, narrowing his eyes, “Look, gonna level with you. Again. Snuggling you has given me one helluva boner. I tried to think about other things, keep it cool today, but… Don’t think my feelings for you are ever gonna be platonic.”

Steve’s pheromone-drenched Omega brain took a moment to process this, and he was incapable of being anything but blunt. “Do you believe in scent-mates, Eddie?”

“Okay, comin’ clean.” Eddie’s hands moved up to cup Steve’s face. “Been obsessed with your teasing lil’ perfume, since you presented in junior year. Let’s find out, huh?”

Steve scrambled into Eddie’s lap for real, flung his arms around his neck, and all-but crushed the Alpha to him. Nope, he couldn’t have done that half an hour ago, while he was lying here feeling exhausted and generally like shit.

Eddie kissed Steve like he’d never been kissed—thoroughly and possessively, and dammit, adoringly. That bland banana taste was gone in an flash. No blockers worked for kissing, and Eddie’s true taste flooded him. It was herby with bitter notes, all doused in that multithreaded sweetness Steve had been going wild for. That rich, creamy banana was a major, major strand of Eddie’s musk, in a heady, kicky Alpha kinda way.

No wonder Steve always liked that damn fruit. He only loved the taste of Eddie, which he literally got high on. He scrubbed his tongue against Eddie’s and did his best to give as good a kiss as he got.

Eddie was for sure Steve’s scent-mate, and he was Eddie’s. After a few more minutes of kissing, and a little more snuggling and scenting, Eddie confirmed that he one-billion percent agreed.

…

A month later, Gareth finally showed his face around Eddie again.

After a whirlwind courtship, he and Steve were moving into a cosy log cabin in the woods. Eddie was wheeling out Steve’s basketball hoop, and Steve was fetching their guitars from the van. Turned out, for the one hobby they didn’t share, there was plenty they did. Steve had even had to fill in for Gareth at D and D, after the other Omega mysteriously vanished to stay with an aunt, without even finding out if Eddie was mad or not.

Eddie growled, glancing between the two Omegas. “You wanna kill him, Steve, or am I gonna do it?”

“Don’t be a dick, Eddie,” said Steve. “He brought us together. He fixed my rejection sickness.”

He fixed us both, and I didn’t know I needed to be fixed. He sure helped make me a very happy Alpha.

“Look, I know it was a bit of a gamble,” said Gareth, twisting his hands. “I’ve had my suspicions, right from when you used to lay into Carol and Tommy for me. You said more than once that you always wanted to hit ’em harder. Something always pulled you back, some faint scent, even though those two repelled you. And then, I got to know Steve too, and Chrissy did a tarot reading that said you were fated. Even Robin said she had a hunch, and what with Steve being sick for so long… We played tic-tac-toe. I lost so I had to be matchmaker. I mean, it has worked out, and… You’re not gonna kill me, right?”

“No promises, Gareth,” said Eddie. “I mean, what took you? Why didn’t you bash our heads together months ago? And how could you run out halfway through my most totally metal campaign?”

“So, we’re good or not?”

“Jesus, Gareth, how many times?” bitched Steve, as Eddie beamed toothily between them both. “He’s being a dick! Hey, you wanna be my flower-Omega at our wedding next month?”

Gareth hung around for a beer and to help them finish moving in. When he hung around after that, Eddie gave him his very best platonic hug.

The type he could never give Steve Harrington.

“Now scram,” he growled, once he let Gareth go. “Thanks to you, I totally need to carry my future bride over the threshold.”

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Thank you for reading 💖 You can find my other steddie omegaverse fic on Ao3 here 💖

[luvingjeanie]

jealousy, jealousy | OHSHC x fem!reader

authour’s note: no honey i’m so sorry, i can’t write about him romantically, he is my son :(

synopsis: how do they handle jealousy?

included: tamaki suoh, hikaru hitachiin, koaru hitachiin, kyoya ootori, takashi morinozuka, haruhi fujioka

warnings: cringe petnames (it’s tamaki, what do you expect?)

₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊

✮ Tamaki Suoh

✮ melodramatic, hysteric, a full theatre performance. if it was an act, just for show, he would surely win an oscar.

✮ seeing you, his girl, his love, his princess, his flower, his heart (all cheesy petnames were given to you by him, not me), being flirted with by another boy was a jolt to his entire system. he quite literally clutched his chest, hand on his forehead, and if there is any kind of chair or sofa behind him, he is collapsing on to it

✮ for a moment though? he does just stand there, eye twitching.

✮ once his theatrics cease, he’s by your side within the blink of an eye, a cloud of dust in the spot he had previously been standing in.

✮ pale, lithe hands on both of your shoulders, unintentionally squeezing so tight that you’re absolutely sure Tamaki’s finger prints will forever be indented into your skin.

✮ he begins to fuss and gush, absolutely fawning over your ‘unbelievable, astonishing beauty’, using that little trick of his to allow a little tear to trickle down his infuriatingly handsome face to add some flair

✮ if that doesn’t work in garnering your attention (or alternatively, weirding the guy out and making him back off), he just throws a tantrum.

✮ if he wasn’t so good looking? it would be an ick. if you didn’t love him so much? you would be ten times more embarrassed than you currently were

✮ ‘my sweet princess, leaving me! she must be mad at me? why else is she talking to that dirty, good for nothing, sleazy commoner-‘ , and he says all of this waving his hands like a man gone mad above his head whilst wailing to kyoya who doesn’t care in the slightest.

✮ there is no hiding Tamaki’s jealousy, it’s physically impossible for him to do.

✮ when Tamaki Suoh is in love? it’s all consuming, he’s terribly co-dependent. some think it’s general clinginess, but what he’ll never admit (seriously anyway, perhaps he’ll joke) is that it’s because for the majority of his life, he was lonely. and now he isn’t. he may be annoying at times, dramatic and overly confident, but he genuinely means well. he just loves you. too much at times, perhaps.

✮ over time, you’ve realise that if talking to a boy who’s a little too flirty is unavoidable, the best thing to do is to give Tamaki all of your attention and affection as soon as possible.

✮ hold his face in your hands, coo and fawn, peck his cheeks and his lips, call him the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen (because let’s face it, it’s true), and all is right in the world again.

✮ Kyoya Ootori

✮ stoic. reserved. eerily calm. you honestly wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know him so well.

✮ he stands there, adjusting his glasses with a single finger before he goes back to jotting on his clipboard, pretending to simply just be going about his day, monitoring the host club as per-usual

✮ but only you notice the subtle raise of a single dark brow, or the slight clench of his jaw, the flex of his hand.

✮ he flickers his eyes over to you periodically, waiting for you to put a stop to this pathetic boy’s nonsense. he isn’t one to cause a scene, not at all like Tamaki.

✮ he won’t rush over in a fit of melodramatic upset and jealousy, nor will he wail and whine about you leaving him and how much he loves you in hopes to avert your attention to him.

✮ Kyoya Ootori is composed and cool. He isn’t insecure. In fact, dating him required an emotional vetting process. Upon realising his interest in you extended beyond providing you with a pleasant service, when he stopped viewing you as any other guest, a background search was conducted on your family (he usually does this with all clients, but he dug a little deeper this time around), getting to know you was a slow process.

✮ dating was honestly something he never thought he would do. he didn’t see the point, as a marriage would probably be arranged for him anyway, so what was the need?

✮ but you? well, he came to realise he trusted you. and that was enough for him to not let jealousy consume him

✮ Kyoya’s jealousy is more like the small irritating prick of a needle. he doesn’t allow it to overpower him, or to cloud his rationale, but it isn’t pleasant at all

✮ but, he’ll let you deal with it independently unless it’s clear the little pest who calls himself a man isn’t taking a hint

✮ all in all? he trusts you, and despite how irritated he feels, no matter how much he wants to put that idiot in his place, he won’t. he isn’t one to cause a scene or make a spectacle of the situation, not unless he feels you’re incapable of handling yourself, and even then? it’s done with class and integrity, for both your sakes.

✮ Hikaru Hitachiin

✮ we all know how childish this boy can be. he’s moody, and a little emotionally constipated. he feels deeply, but he’s not prone to or capable of communicating it in the most mature way

✮ he resorts to embarrassing the boy flirting with you, i fear.

✮ whatever he can pick at, he will. poorly dressed? greasy hair? mild body odour? poor, tasteless, pitiful pick up lines? he’s grasping for straws in an attempt to humiliate this boy out of flirting with you

✮ absolutely gets Kaoru in on it too, and it doesn’t take much convincing either

✮ it begins with them loudly whispering, purposely so the boy can hear, and then it moves to straight up in your face bullying

✮ ‘Kaoru, just look at those rags, can you believe he left the house like that?’

✮ ‘Forget the rags, Hikaru, I can’t get over the smell-‘

✮ but God forbid you stick up for the boy and tell Hikaru he’s being mean, that’s an absolute betrayal and he’ll let you know.

✮ then unfortunately, all negative emotions are directed at you.

✮ he isn’t mean, he could never be mean to you. he teases and jests, of course, that’s just in his nature, and it’s done with nothing but affection. but he is snappy, he grumbles short responses until he yells, that is if he isn’t giving you the silent treatment

✮ when he yells, it isn’t about you at all, in fact, it’s more of an unintentional confession of insecurity and doubt. shoulder’s taught, high, and tense, fists clenched, nails almost biting into the pale skin of his palms, and brows tightly knitted together as he bit back a response after your incessant ‘what’s wrong?’s and ‘are you alright?’s

✮ ‘you seemed pretty content leaving me to go talk to that guy, why don’t you just go back to him, huh?!’

✮ after that? it’s obvious, he’s hurt. i wouldn’t even call it jealousy or envy, but a genuine fear you’ll leave.

✮ for a while, Hikaru is only comfortable with you being friendly to people he is also close with. he hates sharing, and not out of selfishness, but a need to keep you close, to give you a reason to stay

✮ as with what happened with Haruhi in episode 16, he needs a push from other’s to make amends, because of course you’re feeling apologetic for making your boyfriend feel so hurt, but he had no right to lash out at you

✮ after continuous badgering from the club (largely Tamaki and Kaoru), he finds you alone, wherever you may be, and for a moment just sits quietly at your side, not touching, maybe an inch or two between you

✮ then, he’ll swallow down all the apologies he had thought of that don’t sound quite right before quickly glancing to you and apologising in his way

✮ it isn’t a traditional apology, more of a short, bashful explanation as to why he acted so brash and callous. yet, despite an actual ‘i’m sorry’ not being said, it’s enough.

✮ it’s heart-felt, it’s quietly mumbled, and he means it

✮ and that’s all that matters

✮ Kaoruu Hitachiin

✮ similar to Hikaru, but not quite. maybe a mix of Tamaki in there too, a little childish, and melodramatic. there’s cheeky quips and pouts, but no yelling or silent treatment (thankfully, Hikaru, take notes)

✮ it’s starts with him questioning it a little, is he being stupid? is he deeping it? is he being dramatic? no, no, this guy is going too far. this guy is interested in HIS girlfriend, this visually assaulting, ill-dressed, cheap-cologne wearing commoner is flirting with HIS girlfriend

✮ so? he’d like to think he’s about to do something, but he doesn’t really. he pouts. embarrassingly so.

✮ he’s thought of insults he could throw at the guy, he’s thought of ways to swoop in and steal you away (is it really stealing if you’re his girlfriend?), but he doesn’t act on any of those thoughts or urges

✮ what if it made you mad at him? he couldn’t handle that

✮ so he waits, muttering little insults to himself with crossed arms and the scowl of a scolded toddler on his lips

✮ ‘he flirts like he’s just learned how to talk, tch’

✮ ‘she’s my girlfriend. s’not fair.’

✮ genuinely just feeling sorry for himself, acting like you’ve completely forgotten he’s existed, when you’ve probably been talking to this guy for about five minutes

✮ when you return to him he does create a little show of it, a smooch on your cheek, an arm around your shoulder, and the smuggest of smug grins tugging his lips upwards and eyes glancing to the boy you had just been talking to in a way that said ‘look over here loser, how you like that?’

✮ he rarely brings up the fact that he’s jealous, because honestly? he’s embarrassed, and similar to how he felt about Hikaru growing closer to Haruhi, he understands you have your own life, with people that know you but don’t know him. reluctantly, he comes to terms with the fact that he can’t always be the centre of your universe, that you can’t rewrite the stars and space to make planets orbit him rather than the sun

✮ of course, he wishes it wasn’t this way, in a selfish way that makes him ashamed of himself, he wants you all to himself, but he’ll forever have that fear that the closer he tries to keep you, the more it will push you away

✮ Kaoru being jealous is quieter than you’d expect, as despite being characterised as ‘mischievous’, his emotional intelligence is honestly shocking

✮ Takashi Morinozuka

✮ he’s strong and silent for a reason. Mori is a secure guy, secure in his masculinity and relationship. honestly, as long as you look happy, he’s content and all is right in the world

✮ it’s extremely difficult to make him jealous, in fact, he’d only ever become remotely jealous if it seemed as though you were reciprocating the attention and affection of another, which of course, never happens

✮ instead, he worries. he’s a protector by nature, so rather than scrutinising your interactions with other boys for signs of flirting, he’s mentally vetting these men to ensure they aren’t a public nuisance or worse, simply because he wants to ensure your safety

✮ although with Mori near by, no matter how hard these guys may want to make advances, they’re far too intimidated to allow these thoughts to manifest as physical actions

✮ if this ever does happen? he never strays from the strong silent guard dog boyfriend persona that was not only assigned to him by the Host Club, but was also just natural to who he was

✮ it’s as if he suddenly manifested behind you, from shadow or air you don’t know, and murmurs soft words in your ear before leading you away, not at all acknowledging the creep who got a little too close for his liking

✮ and that’s honestly it, short and sweet (more terrifying for the random dude)

✮ similarly to Kyoya, he isn’t going to cause a ruckus or draw needless attention, that would be selfish. he doesn’t want everyone to praise him as a knight in shining armour, he just wants to remove you from that situation as quickly as he possibly can

✮ Haruhi Fujioka

✮ Haruhi is stupid. she’s smart academically, no doubt. she was able to get a free ride to Ouran Academy, of course she’s intelligent.

✮ romantically, however? an absolute idiot

✮ she doesn’t even realise she is jealous, god bless her. she just has this indescribable look on her face.

✮ it’s a sad frown, but with a nose scrunched up in disgust, yet with brows furrowed in confusion, you don’t exactly know what she’s feeling and neither does she

✮ she just watches, lost in thought as she tries to compute how she feels whilst also wondering if you interacting with person who is clearly interested in you is wrong of you, or if she’s just irrational

✮ of course, this sweet girl gives you the benefit of the doubt. you surely wouldn’t be talking with this person for so long and giving them the attention they crave if you knew how they felt about you (and spoiler alert, she’s right)

✮ Haruhi slowly wilts away until YOU realise she’s jealous, because you truly can’t figure out if she’s aware she’s currently bright green or if she’s staying put to be polite

✮ when you return to her, she’s bashfully scratching the back of her neck, waving it all off with a sheepish, awkward smile, genuinely believing she’s fooling you into believing she’s fine and nothing was amiss

✮ she’s a little silly, but you wouldn’t embarrass her by pointing it out!!! so, you plant a sweet kiss to her cheek and lead her to one of those chaise lounges in the host club that she just knows was stupid expensive for some tea!

[solxamber]

do you do skully graves and reader (platonic)? If u do can like a qiqi!reader or huohuo!reader who helps him with stuff whilst either talking to ghosts are just being a forgetful zombie , thanks

Skully J. Graves x Huohuo! Reader

hi! I tried my best to adapt his personality to the new parts of event story, you can let me know if you wanted something different!

The fog clung to the streets, curling like ghostly fingers around every corner of the village. The eerie ambiance would have sent shivers down most people’s spines, but not Skully J. Graves. No, he basked in it, breathing in the cold, misty air with a grin so wide it would have made Jack Skellington proud. He adjusted his coat, looking proudly over the plans for his ideal Halloween.

“No lights,” he muttered, scribbling frantically on a scrap of parchment. “No candy. And absolute, complete darkness.” His grin widened, almost maniacal. “Perfect.”

“Skully, uh… why would anyone want a Halloween with no candy?” A soft voice broke his concentration, and he glanced up to see you, the strange friend who always seemed to be muttering to thin air. Except, in your case, it wasn’t thin air.

Around you, unseen to everyone else, lingered several translucent spirits, floating lazily like they didn’t have a care in the world. One of them—a particularly cheeky ghost with a mischievous smirk—whispered in your ear.

“No candy, no fun,” you echoed what the ghost said, looking between Skully and the air with slight anxiety. “I think he might be right, Skully… What if people just want to, you know, enjoy themselves?”

Skully rolled his eyes, barely hiding a grin. “Candy is for the weak. Jack Skellington never handed out candy. He—wait, what do you mean he might be right?” His eyes narrowed, staring directly where one of the ghosts hovered. “You talking to them again?”

You shrugged, giving a sheepish smile. “They’ve got opinions too, you know.”

Before Skully could respond, you were back to murmuring to another ghost. “No, no, no, I’m not ignoring you… Okay, okay, I’ll tell him.” You turned back to Skully. “Uh… the ghost by the market says you should maybe reconsider the ‘no lights’ thing. Might freak out the little ones.”

Skully crossed his arms, huffing. “Freaking out is the point, my dear! A true Halloween isn’t about fun and games. It’s about terror, darkness, and—beating up ghosts, obviously.”

One of the spirits around you let out a melodramatic wail, clearly offended. You winced, giving Skully a helpless look. “You really hurt their feelings…”

Skully sighed dramatically, waving his hand dismissively. “They’ll get over it. I’m just saying—Jack would agree with me.”

“He’s still mad you didn’t give him that apple the other day,” you added as if that were part of the conversation.

Skully paused, blinking at you. “Wait… what?”

“Not important!” you quickly blurted, pushing past the topic, eyes darting to the spirits floating around you. “But, hey, how about we add a few spooky lights, you know? Like those lanterns with creepy faces carved into them? It’d keep the kids from getting totally lost and still fit your dark aesthetic.”

Skully stared at you for a long moment, his intense eyes seeming to bore into your soul—or maybe into the spirits’ souls. You couldn’t really tell. Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temple. “Fine. Some lights. But only the spookiest kind.”

One of the spirits around you cheered silently, and you grinned. “See, compromise works!”

As you helped Skully finalize his Halloween of nightmares, you couldn’t help but think about how strange this dynamic was. You, a soft-hearted (if slightly anxious) spirit-communicator, and Skully, a Halloween-obsessed enigma who idolized Jack Skellington. And yet, somehow, you made the perfect team.

Then came the moment where you had to address the elephant in the room—or rather, the ghosts in the air. As you adjusted some spooky decorations, one of the ghosts began wailing about something from the past. You sighed, turning to Skully with a rare moment of seriousness.

“Skully, can we pause for a second?”

He glanced up from his pile of cobwebs and fake skeletons, raising an eyebrow. “What now? Another ghost’s feelings hurt?”

“No… it’s just…” You bit your lip. “I know I act a little… goofy sometimes. But I do take what I do seriously, you know? Helping these ghosts—it’s important to me.”

For the first time, Skully looked a little taken aback. He slowly straightened up, gazing at you with something close to admiration. “I know. You’re weird, but you’re good at what you do.” He hesitated before giving you a rare, almost tender smile. “Thanks for… you know… always being here.”

You grinned, a warmth spreading in your chest at the compliment. “Hey, someone’s gotta make sure your Halloween doesn’t turn into complete chaos.”

“Chaos is the goal!” Skully insisted, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

And as you two continued working on what was sure to be the weirdest, most ghost-infested Halloween in history, you couldn’t help but feel like—just maybe—this peculiar friendship (and the random ghosts) were exactly where you were meant to be.

Masterlist

[clairdelunelove]

love thy neighbor

neighbor!itadori yuuji x f!reader, brief mentions of megumi

genre: insane amounts of fluff, comfort, slight angst?

warnings: suggestive, 5.6k words

synopsis: getting a new neighbor was bound to be a hit or miss. and in your case it's a miss. that is, until you're sharing the elevator with a guy that looks like he belongs on the cover of the latest calvin klein magazine. and suddenly, things don't go as planned because he's oddly… sweet?

a.n. had neighbor!yuuji on my mind for a while so I decided to push myself and write smth sickeningly sweet! missed writing longer works so I hope you enjoy! <3

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you wholeheartedly believe that your new neighbor has more than 24 hours in a day. 

the incessant noise is an indicator of that. blaring music, doors slamming at odd times, and the animated buzzing of the television during the neighborhood’s quiet hours all filter through your apartment’s worn walls. wails of a melodramatic actress haunted you in your sleep. initially, you chalked it up as a coping mechanism for your neighbor. perhaps she was going through a messy breakup and found comfort in rewatching the same movie series– several times, in fact– to help manage the heartache. you understand; it was a vulnerable type of growth that needed to be dealt with. however, it’s been the exact, aggravating routine for the past two weeks and it was driving you crazy. it had gotten so bad to the point where you were absentmindedly mumbling the corresponding dialogue whenever you were preoccupied with household chores. 

and you’ve never seen her, per se. you’re just assuming that your neighbor was a young woman that reminisced her college days by cranking up the speaker to the highest volume and bouncing around to the beat. deafening stomps to the carpeted floor. at least, that’s what you hear before a piece of furniture inevitably falls from the prancing and it goes dead silent. 

so imagine your surprise when a man steps into the elevator you’re wobbling into and rushes to press his designated floor number. it’s still relatively early. the sun is barely peeking out and the first flush of morning arises to allow the day to commence. yet, he’s panting as he trickles in behind you, squeezing himself through the metal doors before they can close and he’ll be forced to wait a couple minutes. 

“oh,” he utters while noting that you pushed the illuminated button to his apartment floor already, “thanks!” 

his voice is sleek and smooth. it’s cute, quite frankly. it rises in accordance with his gratitude, so much so that you’re intrigued to get a glance at this well-mannered stranger. and gosh— you’re not disappointed at all. 

he’s taller; not at a height that’s towering over you but it’s enough for you to take note of. it’s a fantastic change of pace from the elderly tenants that typically inhabit the building and your eyes eagerly roam to discover more about the male beside you. his hair is, remarkably, pink. a tone that matches the tinge of blush that glazes over his skin due to the sweat that he desperately tries to wipe off. he’s clad in gray workout shorts and a muscle tee, both of which accentuate his toned physique. your mouth literally drops as you openly stare at the cuts of raw, powerful muscle that glisten on his body from underneath the tacky fluorescent lights. 

and, immediately, embarrassment floods through you at the stark contrast behind the reasoning of why you’re up so early in the morning. overly sugary treats to begin your day served as your motivator. you just weren’t expecting to run into someone that started their day by exercising to the point that they looked like they belonged on the cover of calvin klein. it’s not one of your proudest moments.

slumping over in an attempt to conceal the pastry bag and sweet drink in your hand, you internally pray that this situation can pass quicker. save yourself from the embarrassment of it all. 

he seems to pick up on your uneasiness though because his brows raise in curiosity, “what’d you get?” 

and oh, calvin klein guy is talking to you.

“um, a latte and some breakfast pastry that the bakery sells. I go there pretty often,” you press your lips together before adding, “it’s the one right across the street. they open early.” 

you’re cringing as the words leave your lips because really– the words ‘pastry’ and ‘breakfast’ being together would never be in the male’s vocabulary. you assume that he’s judging you for your innate ability to overshare about your rather unhealthy eating habits. after all, he had just finished what you presumed was his daily workout. perhaps he’ll even dig low enough to make you feel terrible about it. educate you on the importance of having a balanced breakfast. you’ve been on enough dates with ‘gym bros’ to acknowledge that it’s a possibility and you don’t want to hear it. 

“oh really?” he ends up responding with a natural smile and it nearly blinds you, “I didn’t know! I might hafta check it out then. it looks really good!” 

“their strawberry cream cheese breakfast pastry is one of my favorites.” 

the suggestion tumbles out before you can think better of it but his smile only seems to brighten as he says in finality, “I’ll try that one then.” 

then, he whips out his phone to visibly take note of the specific pastry you told him only seconds ago. and, wow, this guy might just be a top contender for the world’s best apartment crush. you watch him out of the corner of your eye, captivated by his radiate energy. he pockets his phone once again, shoots you a grin of finality, and abruptly lifts the end of his shirt to wipe the remnants of sweat on his forehead. his eyes are wide, mortification expressed in his hurried actions and it takes some self-restraint to not giggle at his endearing expressions. 

“sorry I’m all gross, jus’ got done working out,” he explains like it wasn’t obvious, “promise I’m not normally this sweaty all the time.” 

you’re instantly drawn to him. he’s all sharp features but soft intentions. a phenomenon that you wish to unravel if he’d allow you to. he lets out a sheepish laugh, the melodic sound cutting through the awkward elevator silence, and you’re giggling in earnest soon after. 

“it wouldn’t be so bad if you were, though.”

you bite your lip. the statement is a tiny bit bolder than you were expecting but his bashful expression says it all. he’s keen on the attention. his brows raise in mild surprise but the tips of his ears tinge red. not one to actively go searching for it but finds pleasure in it if you’re willing to hand it out. 

the elevator dings and the doors slowly open to reveal your apartment floor’s hallway as he scrambles for words. though, you know you’ve made quite the impression when he follows behind your retreating figure. a flicker of warmth laps up at you, a sort of satisfaction sizzling within you at how he’s actively pursuing you and for the first time in a while you’re grateful for the good change in fortune. 

“well would you look at that,” the blushy haired male’s voice rings just as you move to unlock the door to your apartment, “we’re neighbors!” 

and your mouth drops. 

he’s your neighbor. the same one that’s been repeatedly keeping you awake during the night by dialing up the volume on every show he’s watching. or how you can audibly hear the thuds as he leaps around while playing some ear-splitting video game. or how, vaguely, you overhear the hissed scolding of another male’s voice from the opposite side of the wall that separates the two of you. it’s all been the calvin klein guy– not some heartbroken girl that’s stuck chasing after her crazy college years. 

“whatta crazy coincidence!” he adds, breaking your dawning realization, and grins as he sticks his own key into his apartment and turns it. 

but you find your voice before he can stroll through his entryway. you know that you should just say something and get it over with. voice your frustrations of ending up with the misfortune of having a rather boisterous next-door neighbor while you strived to achieve the most stress-free life. the desire to have a fresh start was unattainable at this rate. give him a piece of your mind for further ruining your– already– messed up sleep schedule. 

“wait! um,” you clear your throat and try to quell the anger that grabs hold of you, “the walls are super thin and I can hear whenever you’re blasting your music or watching tv, ya know. could you try to keep it down, please?” 

and why is your voice dying down at the end of it? the heated exchange you’ve been reciting in your mind is reduced to a polite inquiry. a sort of ‘hey it’d be really nice if you could do this for my well-being but it’s alright if you can’t!’ type of barter. inwardly, you kick at yourself because the whole point of this is to give your neighbor a piece of the irritation you experience daily. yet, you bite your lip when he gives you that sweeping glance of his that makes you weak. the one where his gaze lingers on you with a curiosity that begs at him to be sedated. his widened eyes sparkle, a shade of honey that reminds you of butterscotch candy, as he understands your displeasure. 

“ah, I’m super sorry ‘bout that! I wasn’t sure how soundproof my room was since I just moved in and the loud music kinda helps me focus. but I’ll try to be quieter,” the apology rushes out of him as he tilts his head to the side, “hope you didn’t lose any sleep ‘cause of me. it’d kill me if that happened.” 

this isn’t going in the direction you thought it would’ve. at most, you expected to perhaps throw some hands or at least anticipated an angry dispute to erupt based on your confrontation. yet, the blushy haired male treats this like it’s a mere misunderstanding that he’ll resolve if you just give him the word. he’ll listen. just tell him what to do and he’ll do it without any qualms. you’re left starstruck, lips agape, and utterly embarrassed by this whole ordeal. here you were attempting to make the most out of some noise when all he was doing was naively enjoying his free time. he stands unmovingly, attempting to decipher the endless range of emotions that you display throughout the whole ordeal. you feel the heat creeping up onto your neck, desperate to immediately flee from the situation, and push open the door to your apartment. 

“no, no, no, I sleep fine. just,”  you call out behind your shoulder and abruptly shut the door behind you, “try not to do it again, thanks!” 

— 

“oh!”

you were expecting the sight of bright eyes and blushy hair, with an instinctual grin that lifts like he’s looking forward to seeing you. what you weren’t anticipating, however, is the tuft of coal black hair and passive expression that greets you in the entryway of yuuji’s apartment. the stranger gives you a once over, not inappropriate by any means, but more along the lines of legitimate curiosity for your sudden visit. 

“sorry, I thought,” you pause to recheck the apartment again and stutter through your justification, “I must’ve had the wrong apartment. I thought someone else lived here.” 

he’s quiet at first, seemingly trying to gather the words he wishes to say before he can think better of it, “is it a guy that’s obnoxiously loud?” 

“um–”

“with pink hair?” 

“yes, exactly!” 

your eyes light up at your neighbor’s description, the image of him basically ingrained into your mind. with his considerate eyes and kind demeanor despite your one-sided bitterness towards the person that disturbed your peace. your encounter with the blushy haired male has been occupying your thoughts for the last couple of days so it’s no wonder you decided to show up and apologize. equipped with a box of takeout and a meek smile, this proved to be your attempt at atoning for your previous run in with him.

the pure delight in your voice causes the dark haired male to be taken aback. he doesn’t recently recall yuuji gushing about meeting some girl. rather, megumi wasn’t expecting him to withhold such information since he had the tendency to overshare about everything. the latest restaurants opening up, upcoming movies, or newly released comics– the blushy haired male was continuously spouting about it. but yuuji had that magnetism about him that attracted anyone and everyone. so who was he to infer the relationship between the two of you? it wasn’t his business. he knows someone that might’ve wished to know, though. 

it’s a bit awkward due to the silence that follows as you shift on your feet. it was a bit difficult to read the man in front of you. the contrast between him and his blushy haired friend was too great. his neutral expression gave you almost nothing to consider and you felt the nervousness creep up on you. this rendezvous proved to be more than you anticipated. heat trickles behind your neck as megumi pulls out his phone to type a quick text before pocketing it again and stepping aside. 

“you can wait inside,” he says with finality while angling his slim body so you can pass through the entryway, “he’ll be here soon. he’s just running some errands.” 

“thank you!” 

and the apartment is a lot cleaner than you imagined. there’s a couple of misplaced hoodies and comic books that are left out on the living room table but it’s fitting. then again, it’d been a while since you were invited into a guy’s place. especially one that occupies your mind so frequently.

before you can chicken out, you gesture to the bags in your hands, “oh! I brought over some food, by the way. a peace offering of some sort.” 

megumi’s dark eyes flick over to the contents in the bag and realize just how much you’ve been carrying this entire time. plastic containers are filled to the brim with an assortment of perfectly placed sushi. it looks delicious but the sheer amount would almost be comical if megumi wasn’t aware of how much his friend could consume. the bags’ handles you’re gripping onto are thoroughly stretched, as though the weight of the food was unexpectedly dense and he doesn’t bother masking how his eyes widen. you brought a lot. 

“you can help yourself too! I wasn’t sure if he was allergic to anything so I got a bunch. maybe too much,” your voice lowers during your rambling to hide your embarrassment. 

“thanks.”

it’s a seemingly simple word of gratitude yet it’s genuine. you note that his voice has considerably softened since he first spoke to you. like his tone is soothed from its typical bluntness and he’s putting in an effort to be considerate. he strikes you as the type to believe actions rather than words. it’s intriguing. he’s put a comfortable amount of distance between the two of you but now he strides towards you and despite your protests, he moves to take the bags from your grasp to place them on the counter in order to ease the burden. somewhere along the way introductions are shared and the two of you take part in lighthearted conversation. it’s initially clumsy with your habit of oversharing and megumi’s short responses but soon you both find a delicate balance that feels nice. 

it’s a start. 

and it’s the scene that yuuji doesn’t have the chance to see as he stumbles through the door of his apartment. he heaves, clearly a sign that he rushed here, and haphazardly closes the door with the back of his heel as he strolls in. he’s all swift energy and hectic movement– exactly like he always is. 

“brought in the newspaper! if you even wanna read that junk later,” he distractedly calls out while placing a grocery bag onto the counter and vaguely catches a glimpse of the food you brought, “wow look at all this food! I thought you didn’t get paid until the end of the week, fushiguro–”

“did you even read my text, idiot?” 

“what! you met my neighbor? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

yuuji, now coming out of his room, has his phone clutched in his hand and he quickly unlocks it. a gasp leaves his lips once he reads his friend’s message. the way his eyes speedily trek along the screen is laughable and it causes megumi to click his tongue in annoyance. then, yuuji peers over at megumi to give him overly exaggerated, gaping eyes and a pout. it’s quite the spectacle, really. megumi’s already used to this, however, and he continues to relax on the living room couch. 

the dark haired male presses an exasperated hand against his face and mutters, “what’s the point of having a phone if you just forget it half the time.”

“so,” yuuji carries the conversation and prompts his friend to go on, “what did she say? did she ask about me? why’d she leave so quickly? don’t tell me you scared her off, fushiguro!” 

there’s a plate of unfinished sushi in front of megumi and he pokes at it as he ponders about his friend’s sudden interest in your departure. it’s unprecedented, new– how yuuji’s gaze immediately flicks over to the door like he’s debating on if he should see you. pay you a short visit. tell you how grateful he is that you visited and he’s sorry that he wasn’t home to greet you. he was so easy to read. 

“she said that she’s sorry for blowing up on you that one time,” megumi recalls as he brings a slab of ginger to his mouth, “said the food was to apologize.” 

“aw man, that was totally my fault though!” 

“I know but still, you should eat the food before it goes bad. she did bring it for you after all.” 

humming in agreement, yuuji grabs a pair of chopsticks, chooses a variety of different sushi pieces, and makes himself a plate. he takes a seat beside megumi, a tendency that was bound to be a custom at this point. the duo had a history of crashing at each other’s place ever since they were younger. it was an attempt to bring a sense of normalcy in their hectic lives. they engage in the usual small talk; with yuuji expressing his utter delight every time he shoves a piece of sushi in his mouth and megumi responding with stoic comments. all is well. though, the dark haired male perceives that there’s something off. there’s a light furrow in yuuji’s brow, an indication that he’s troubled and ruminating. 

so by the time yuuji’s done eating, megumi addresses the other male’s concerns with a terse frown, “well? are you going to see her or are you just gonna sit here wallowing in your own self-pity?” 

-

“jus’ noticed that I never got your name!” 

your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. not once were you expecting your neighbor to be at your door at eventide– especially since you were just at his place earlier in the day. in fact, you had rubbed off all the extra makeup and glitz after you finished delivering the takeout to megumi. he seemed trustworthy enough to relay your message so you didn’t think your neighbor would amble over to speak with you, much less with a pretty bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

he grins, anticipating your shock, and adds, “asked around the apartment complex for your name ‘cuz I wanted to write you a card but everyone just looked at me like I was crazy! like, I didn’t have much to go off of except what you look like!” 

and you consider the possibility that he looks even better in casual clothes. maybe it’s the way every article of clothing he owns fits him perfectly; broad and muscular shoulders tapering inward to emphasize his narrow waist. or, it’s a long stretch, but perhaps you’re just hyper vigilant of him whenever he’s close. wearing a plain shirt tucked into loose pants, he’s as breathtaking as you remember and you do your best to calm the wave of butterflies in your stomach. 

you instinctively bring a hand to cover your bareface as you give him your name. a smile tugs at his lips. shifting the bouquet of flowers underneath one arm, he pulls out a tiny, decorated card and a pen from his pocket. he rhetorically says your name, lets it marinate on his tongue, while writing it and slipping the card in the center of the bouquet. 

“awesome. this is for you,” he hands you the flowers before bashfully rubbing the back of his neck, “fushiguro told me you stopped by earlier and dropped off all that food. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there to see but thank you, really.” 

you press your lips together, aware that this is your chance to right your wrongs and stumble on your words, “oh! you didn’t need to. I was rude and complaining about something small so I just wanted to do that for you–” 

“and,” he meets your eyes as he confesses, “I wanted to see you again.”

his words go straight through your heart. distinctly, you feel the gentle caress of his long fingers against the back of your hand as he slips the bouquet into your arms and his touch is dizzying. you might just melt. liquify into a pile of mush due to his sweet actions. doesn’t help that he’s gazing at you like you string up each individual star in the times of twilight. his eyes roam the entirety of your face. memorizing every pretty freckle and curve now since he’s close. 

“guess it also helps that my neighbor is really pretty,” he whispers, like the compliment is punched out of him and laid out for you to delve in. 

from there on, his focus drops to the pink of your lips. then to the glimmer of your skin that peeks beneath your homey clothes. almost outwardly sighs at the sight before him. like he wants you–thoughtlessly, selfishly, and desperately. the only way he knows how to show he cares. lodges himself deep within the depths of your soul. lets himself in due to his benevolence and warmth. 

then, he pulls away and blinks himself out of the stupor that was induced by you. there’s a sheepish smile on his face like he’s aware he’d been caught. a dust of red splattering on the tips of his ears. but to which he was at fault for; staring too intently or letting his blossoming feelings show– who really knows? 

yuuji steps back to take his leave before it can get too dark out, “glad we both got what we wanted at the end. I'll see ya later!” 

and with that, he waves you a farewell while you’re gripping onto the bouquet of flowers he gifted you. you’re a hot, flustered mess from your encounter with your neighbor. heart racing and thrumming against your chest. but you guess your apology successfully worked. your next step is to find a nice vase. and as you mosey through your apartment with a little extra bounce in your step, you trim the stems and set the flowers to be displayed in your living room. it’s been a while since a man has ever given you flowers. it’s nice. brightens the place up. a huff of content passes your lips. and yes, you do manage to get his name because tucked at the bottom of the card is his full name– followed by a small, scrawled heart. 

-

the next couple days roll into weeks of giddy, mushy happiness that’s unparalleled to anything you’ve ever experienced. he makes an effort to see you almost every other day. stands in front of your door with a bright grin plastered on his face while the both of you catch up. and you share a little bit of your life and schedule so he’s informed on the most convenient time you’ll be home. and it stuns you that yuuji’s naturally this warmhearted. he’s characteristically a provider and giver. finds reason in being the one that lets you have peace of mind. he signs off on your packages when you’re not home, carries your heavy groceries if the elevators are broken, and keeps you company during your midnight snack runs. always inquisitive of your feelings and thoughts. and it’s not just you that he treats kindly (and sure what he does for you borders the invisible line of being more than neighbors). but he’s just inherently courteous. he helps stray animals cross the busy intersection in front of the apartment, moves the massive potted plants for the elderly tenants, and even goes out of his way to greet every individual person in the mornings. yuuji is too good to be true. 

so it’s no wonder you overhear him conversing with a girl. 

it was completely unintentional– initially. you were in the process of slipping on your shoes to go on your usual bakery run. the typical sweet treat that kept you motivated and energized for the rest of the week. that is, until an overly raucous giggle startles you. you freeze at the unusual noise. it’s feminine. not the usual scoff and chuckle you typically overhear from megumi when he visits. the walls are so thin, courtesy of the rent being low, hence catching onto your neighbors’ conversations was pretty easy. so who’s laughing that loud in the early morning and why was it coming from yuuji’s side of the wall? 

checking wasn’t necessarily a crime. and you know it’s wrong but your logic is swayed when yuuji’s own laughter follows. your eye twitches. the sound was bittersweet now. your hands tighten into fists as your breathing quickens and you realize that having the freedom of becoming attached to someone comes with some risks. 

letting your feet lead you closer, you’re perched next to the wall connecting your apartment with his and you hesitantly press your ear against the painted surface. 

“where to, miss?” 

that’s yuuji’s voice. you recognize it from anywhere because it’s perfect– honeyed and sincere– or at least, that’s what you were bewitched with. it wasn’t the exact emotion you conjured up now though. you stood there, dazed beyond comprehension. confused about the relationship you shared with him. you assumed it was mutual; well, a fondness that came in the form of watching him tip his head back in laughter as you artlessly sing your favorite song to him. or how, when the two of you lounge on your couch, you’re both sharing hopes about the future until the sun rises. most importantly, you were hurt. utterly devastated by the accidental secret you’ve uncovered. did it mean nothing to him? you feel your throat close up. can feel the beginnings of frustration arise and your hand moves to clutch at your heart. you needed an explanation; a clarification for the way he’s been treating you. you didn’t want your one chance of happiness to vanish. 

storming to his door, you give it a firm knock before impatiently shifting on your feet, “it’s me.”

you don’t expect him to answer, to be fair. he could choose to ignore your knock, shrug it off and give the run-of-the-mill excuse to the girl he was seeing. or there’d be a beat of silence as he desperately shoves the girl out of sight before he answers the door like those cliche rom-coms that boast high praise due to the drama. and a part of you knows that yuuji’s not like that– he’s sweet, charming, and undeniably considerate�� but you don’t know what to believe. you’re a hot mess that’s destined to explode. 

so it catches you off-guard when the door immediately swings open. 

you stand steadfast, however, “yuuji, we need to talk–”

but the outburst dies on your lips. you’re gaping at the sight that you’re greeted with. megumi’s the one that opens the door for you. his dark eyes flick over to you once and he pulls the door back further to reveal where the commotion was coming from. almost like he understands why you’ve shown up. then, he clasps his hands over his ears to block out the deafening volume of the television and yuuji’s incessant reciting.

there’s a sneer plastered on megumi’s face as he turns to the pink-haired male, “I told you to knock it off before she got the wrong idea.” 

and at the mention of ‘she,’ yuuji freezes. he’s perched atop their rickety couch, teetering on the edge, and holding the end of a hairbrush to his mouth like it’s a microphone. there’s no other girl. he’s not flirting with anyone. the television’s on, playing an iconic movie scene as he passionately narrates the actor’s lines in time with the script. it’s entertaining. amusing. and under different circumstances you’d fall into a fit of laughter but once he meets your eyes, yuuji pauses. 

“crap,” he drops the hairbrush and hastily scrambles to the remote to flick the television off, “‘m sorry was I being too loud–” 

yuuji rushes to greet you. his feet steadily thump against the wooden floors as he hastens his steps. his subconscious leads him to you, always. like he can’t help but come to you despite everything. there’s an abashed grin on his face and the tips are his ears are tinged red from being caught. yet, he’s clearly delighted to see you at his door. 

and the guilt automatically hits you. 

“n-no! I mean, uh,” you focus your attention to the floor as you shake your head, “that’s not why I came here. I thought– oh my gosh– I feel horrible now.” 

tilting his head in confusion, yuuji patiently waits through your sputtering in an attempt to understand what you’re saying. you’re distraught. seeking a sound enough reason on your sudden arrival. you’re flustered, tongue-tied, because now that you’ve seen what you heard earlier, it all makes perfect sense. your ability to jump to conclusions was astounding and the bane of your existence. heat radiates from your cheeks as you clam up. 

there’s a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll be taking my leave now. I don’t feel like third-wheeling today,” megumi explains while stepping past you, “counting on you two to work it out.” 

before the dark haired male leaves he lifts his hand to good-naturedly pat your head. it’s foreign and as if he realizes this, megumi simply shrugs. then, he murmurs his own blunt, twisted encouragement and leaves the both of you alone. 

it’s silent. 

but then yuuji gently leads you inside his apartment. hums that it’ll be better to talk with no interruptions. you let him guide you into the place that you frequent rather often recently, welcoming the press of his fingers against your waist and how his touch instantly brings warmth. he sits you in the middle of the couch, chuckling when you inadvertently sink into the cushions. but he abruptly stops once he detects your regretful expression. the way the corners of your lips are downturned and how you refuse to look at him. an arrow pierces at his heart. 

leaning to place his hands on your shoulders, he carefully mentions, “you wanted to talk?” 

he keeps his voice light, mindful and it’s his gentleness that breaks you. his bright eyes are trained on your face to decipher what’s been bothering you. doesn’t like seeing you so distressed. he’s already grasping for a solution without even knowing the problem. he’s so good to you. 

and when his thumb soothingly caresses against the side of your neck, you wring your hands as you try to explain, “I know I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping but I overheard you speaking to someone. a girl. so I thought–”

you break off to press your lips together in embarrassment. there’s a flash of realization on his sharp features, like he finally acknowledges the misunderstanding. the issue that’s driven you to the point of showing up to his door and staring up at him with wistful eyes. causing his will to break into pieces that you’re destined to pick up and glue back together. then, before you can blink, he’s dropping to his knees and grasping onto your hands. his knitted brows relax as he exhales your name in hushed relief. and it’s a sight of pure reverence. reassurance to the very aspect of your being. you’ve appeased his worries so he’ll make it right; it’s a promise. 

“that was all my fault, I was being stupid and messing around. I’m sorry for making you worried,” yuuji clarifies in a single breath, “I want you to know one thing, though.” 

bringing your hand to his lips, he presses a tender kiss in the space between your knuckles and looks up at you, “I’m serious about this– about you.” 

the octave in his voice drops at the end of his confession, bordering a hoarse whisper meant only for you. a rawness to his sudden seriousness. a reason for his countless efforts. and there’s only so much he’s allowed you to be aware of with his growing feelings. like how he thinks of you right as the sun rises. right when the brilliant hues are flourishing as the day begins to take over. or how he imagines you as the love interest in every romance movie. or how the days become brighter when you’re around. you bring significance into his life.

and he admits that he’s new to these all-consuming feelings. his mind morphs into oblivion and his mouth turns into the equivalent of fuzz. simply due to your sweet smile. it takes all his willpower not to reach out for you when you’re near. his fingers tremble in need to hold and cherish you. he’s utterly whipped. so one thing is for certain– when he thinks of you, there’s a lightness that engulfs his world.

“yuu.”

yuuji’s broken out of his trance when you sweep a gentle hand through his blushy hair. the sentiment is unmistakable now. his act of kneeling in front of you proves his resolve and sincerity. uttering his name is the closest aspect of him being yours. your sweet neighbor. he lets out a content hum and your glossy lips curve into a smile at his reaction. forever fascinated by his undying need to adore you. he sees his whole world beaming back at him. and in that moment, yuuji was convinced that his sole purpose was to bring you happiness. this was the prospect of his adoration. a regard to his devotion towards you. pretty eyes half-lidded, he peers up at you and knowingly tilts his head.

“wanna go get that breakfast pastry you always get at the bakery? 'm pretty sure it was the strawberry cream cheese one,” he asks, his tone hopeful yet bashful as he adds, “you could think of it as a date.” 

[etherealstar-writes]

PAINTBALL | ARSENAL WOMEN X READER

pairings: arsenal women x reader

summary: in which you're involved in a chaotic paintball battle with your friends

warnings: none

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

Beth gasped as you shoved Katie down, taking a hit to the chest. 

"I've got her!" Katie yelled, dragging you to safety and checked your pulse. "She's still alive!" 

"Of course she is," Viv mumbled, taking aim and shooting Leah in the leg as she ran into the open. "This isn't a real battle." 

You sat up, giving Katie a thumbs up. "Just paintball, Katie." 

Beth shrieked as a series of paintballs hit the towers behind her and Viv, both of them ducking down. 

"Give it a shot." Katie nudged you with her gun and you nodded. 

Rolling onto your knees, you poked your head above the small fort and spotted Kyra with two paintball handguns. "What! Where did she get those? Not fair." 

You closed one eye and aimed before pulling the trigger as three paintballs shot out and hit Kyra along her shoulders and arms. "Ha!"

"Get down!" Viv chided you three, getting back to her position. "If you stay up too long, you'll-" 

A pink paintball was splattered behind them with paint flying everywhere and added to the array of colours in Viv’s and Beth's hair. 

"AH!" Viv swore under her breath in Dutch.

"Viv, no! Wait!" Beth tried to grab Viv and pull her down, but she was already standing and shooting randomly at where Kyra, Leah, Caitlin, and Lia were hiding. 

Caitlin jumped up and made it one step forward before paintballs were pelted at her everywhere. And while everyone was distracted targeting poor Caitlin, Kyra rolled out, aiming her gun and shot Viv in the chest. 

"Vivi, nooo!" Beth dramatically wailed out. 

She yanked Viv down, half cradling, half strangling her while Viv tried to break free. "Oi! Let me go! I'm fine! I'm not dead!" 

Beth wiped away a fake tear. "In the world of paintball, you are." 

As Viv rolled her eyes at Beth's melodramatic display, the three of you huddled together, plotting your next move. The battlefield was filled with laughter and shouts as paintball pellets whizzed through the air. 

You wiped a streak of paint off your cheek and exchanged determined glances with Katie and Beth.

"We need a strategy," you said, your voice low. "We can't let them take us down one by one."

Katie nodded, her eyes scanning the field. "Let's focus on Lia and Caitlin first. They seem to work well together, and if we eliminate one of them, the other will be easier to handle."

Beth sniffled theatrically, still cradling Viv. "Vivi, my love, we shall avenge you! We will paint the field with the colours of victory! Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

Viv couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Just make sure you actually hit them, unlike the sorry attempt you made to save me."

The three of you broke into laughter, and once the giggles subsided, you set your plan into motion. Sneaking through the field, you took cover behind barricades and crates, moving stealthily towards Lia and Caitlin's position.

As you approached, you signalled to Katie and Beth to be ready. With a coordinated attack, you emerged from cover, firing a series of paintballs at Lia and Caitlin. The two opponents fought valiantly, but your combined assault overwhelmed them. 

Lia was the first to go down, her colourful attire now adorned with splatters of paint. Caitlin, still defiant, tried to retaliate, but Beth, channelling her inner warrior, charged forward and unleashed a flurry of paintball fury. Caitlin's resistance crumbled, and she joined Lia in paint-covered defeat.

"Two down!" Katie exclaimed, exchanging triumphant high-fives with you and Beth. "Now, Leah is next."

You regrouped, strategising your approach to take down Leah, who was proving to be a formidable opponent. 

“You can’t get me, losers!” Leah yelled out as she sprinted away from you.

“Don’t be so sure about that!” With a combination of flanking manoeuvres and coordinated attacks, you managed to corner Leah. And with a well-aimed shot, she had no choice but to surrender to the colourful onslaught.

“Hah! Take that, Williamson!” You jumped in joy while Leah playfully glared at you as she was dramatically sprawled out on the floor. “Who’s the loser now?”

Your little victory was cut short when dramatic gasps were heard from Beth and Katie. While you’d been busy with Leah, Kyra had taken the chance to sneak up behind those two and had surprised them with a rapid blast of paintballs.

“Gotcha!” Kyra exclaimed, grinning at her successful ambush as those two went down. “It’s only me and you now, Y/n!”

The battlefield was now eerily quiet, with only the distant sounds of laughter and shouts from other ongoing matches. You and Kyra were the last ones standing, facing off against each other. 

"Ready to surrender, Kyra?" You called out, crouching behind a makeshift barricade.

Kyra's laughter echoed across the field. "Not a chance, Y/n! I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve."

The two of you engaged in a lively exchange of paintball shots, dodging and weaving through the obstacles. Paint splatters filled the air as the vibrant colours painted the battlefield. The tension between you and Kyra was palpable, but there was also a shared sense of enjoyment in the competition.

As the battle raged on, you managed to catch Kyra off guard with a well-timed shot. A burst of laughter erupted from your lips as the paintballs landed on her, covering her shoulders and arms.

"I gotcha, Kyra!" You exclaimed, revelling in the sweet taste of victory.

Kyra dramatically staggered, clutching her chest in mock defeat. "Noooo!"

Theatrically, she collapsed to the ground while your teammates rushed to join you, cheering and celebrating the hard-fought victory. Beth and Katie, still covered in paint, embraced you, and Viv playfully patted you on the back.

"You did it, Y/n!" Beth laughed. "You've avenged us all!"

You then approached Kyra with a playful grin, offering her a hand. "You put up a great fight."

Kyra took your hand, pulling herself up with a grin. "You too, Y/n. You got me this time, but I won’t let you win next time."

The two of you chuckled and joined your friends, huddling together for a group photo that you no doubt would cherish deeply.

[t00thpasteface]

i definitely get my habit of melodramatic out-loud complaining from my mom. she reacted to seeing bj hunnicutt on screen like it was causing her physical pain. like, hand on the forehead, throwing her head back, wailing in agony that she hates him. bj hunnicutt isn't real mom he's not going to hurt you

[seminarydropout]

“Well so much for all the worrying and fussing,” Thomas grumbled from beneath his blanket, a mug of lukewarm tea balanced on his stomach. “The dying and then not dying business is a little much, don’t you think?”

Kathy, seated across from him with her laptop open and glasses halfway down her nose, didn’t even look up.

“I’ll be sure to put that on your chart,” she said dryly. “‘Patient finds medical crisis inconvenient and melodramatic. Recommends streamlining next brush with death.’”

Thomas huffed. “I’m just saying, if I had known I was going to survive, I wouldn’t have spent so much time drafting my farewell letter to the College of Cardinals.”

“You quoted Tolkien in that letter,” Kathy said, finally looking up. “Three separate times.”

“And it was beautiful!” he said, pointing a finger. “There was metaphor, gravitas, a little Latin. I wept writing it. You can’t fake that.”

Kathy set her laptop aside and leaned forward, arms crossed, a smile tugging at her mouth.

“Do you want me to be sorry you didn’t die?” Kathy exasperated.

He blinked at her. “Well, no. Obviously not. I just—couldn’t we have skipped the entire near-death interlude? The fever, the hospital gowns, the IV pump that beeped every time I closed my eyes?”

“You’re alive, you dramatic bat,” she said fondly.

“I still am going to plan my funeral,” Thomas declared, propped up in his recliner like a very determined monarch in exile. “And I expect wailing. And mourning. Real grief.”

GIF: Of Aldo telling Thomas, “It is a War. And you have to commit to a side.” This is the same energy Thomas presents to Kathy about the cancerous bastards living in his bones and soft tissues lmao.

[twst-blueoctopi]

Okay just azul x idia would be fine 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

You Are My Destiny

a/n: gotta love my k-drama words: 413 taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

The Board Game Club room was in chaos.

Azul Ashengrotto adjusted his spectacles with a deep sigh, watching as three dice rolled dramatically off the table for the fifth time in ten minutes.

“Idia,” Azul intoned, voice laced with exasperation and barely contained secondhand embarrassment, “I do believe we agreed that—”

“That no one would summon fire elementals during a friendly match of Magical Monopoly, yes, yes, I’m aware!” Idia wailed, clutching his tablet like a lifeline. “But I got bored, and the RNG gods demanded sacrifices!”

Azul pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience. “We were supposed to have a normal meeting today.”

From the corner, Ortho cheerfully hovered midair with a projector strapped to his back. “I thought it would help morale if we added a bit of... cinematic flair!” he chirped. “So I uploaded a K-Drama ambiance pack™ into the club room’s sound system.”

Azul’s eye twitched. “Cinematic what.”

Before Ortho could elaborate, the lights dimmed dramatically.

Fog machines—why were there fog machines?!—kicked in from the corners, and from overhead speakers came the slow, melodramatic swell of—

🎶 “YOU~ ARE~ MY DESTINYYYYYYYY~” 🎶

Azul froze. So did Idia. Their heads turned slowly toward the mist like protagonists in a budget Netflix adaptation.

“...Ortho,” Idia muttered. “What did you do.”

“Shh!” Ortho whispered loudly from behind the smoke. “Let the moment happen!”

Idia stood. “Nope. I’m out. My anime intro quota has been maxed today.” He turned to leave—and tripped over his own cloak.

Time slowed.

His tablet went flying. Hair flared like a cursed Shonen protagonist. He flailed, a blur of limbs and panic.

“AAZUUUULLL—!”

There was a thud.

Then silence.

Idia was on top of Azul in a heap of limbs and shame.

Azul stared up at the ceiling in quiet disbelief, Idia’s knee lodged in his ribs, their faces dangerously close.

From the speakers: 🎶 “YOUUUUUUUUUUU—ARE~”

“…My destiny?” Idia croaked weakly, somewhere between wheeze and whimper.

Azul blinked at him.

Ortho screamed from the corner. “I KNEW IT! OTP UNLOCKED! Sibling intuition never fails!!”

“Get. Off. Me,” Azul hissed, the tips of his ears glowing red-hot as he tried to shove the other off with what little dignity he had left.

“I’m TRYING—! Your leg’s wrapped around my ankle—WHY is your leg there?!”

“I WAS SITTING! I DO NOT CONTROL GRAVITY!”

“I—I think I pulled something! Possibly a vertebra! Also my soul!”

🎶 "YOU ARE MY D—"

“ORTHO TURN THAT OFF—!!” both of them screamed.

[lurkingshan]

Theory of Love Episode 9: The Last Moment

I was very excited to get to another Thai movie on this list, but things took an unfortunate turn because this film is heteromisogynist trash that does not actually tie very closely to this week's episode. In brief:

CW: violent sexual assault Payu, Fah, and Num are college friends. Fah is physically ill with a pretend drama ailment and is coming off a breakup with a terrible violent boyfriend. Payu has been pining after her, while Num has been pining after him. A series of increasingly melodramatic and violent events occur that victimize the women, but the film is mostly interested in how these events make Payu feel. Payu briefly dates Fah before she dumps him after learning Num likes him, Num gets violently raped by a coworker for no good fucking reason, they all cry a lot and then Fah dies while asking Payu to be with Num, and Num goes away to England to have her rapist's baby before coming home to reunite with Payu in a truly horrific final confession scene.

I hated it, if you can't tell! I don't recommend that anyone not doing this project watch this film. And similar to last week, it's connections to the episode are tenuous. There is the vague notion of the love triangle, but the nature of it is very different from the alleged triangle at the heart of this episode of TOL. There is also just the use of melodrama tropes in general; this episode features the aftermath of Khai's motorbike accident, an apology while dramatically injured, and a big messy confession scene. The episode also has some tiny nods to the film like the inclusion of chicken feet soup. But the thematic parallels are weak and it feels like the team just picked a film with a triangle and didn't look to connect them on a deeper level.

In this episode, after an initial dumb scheme to investigate Third's feelings for Un flops, Khai mirrors Third from a few episodes back by giving up on his crush and trying to go back to being his friend. The awkwardness is palpable, but Khai is trying to move past his feelings and leave Third be so that he can pursue his (supposed) feelings for Un. Khai keeps it together when Third brings Un around, generally tries not to ask too much of him as he recovers from his injury, and continues expressing regret for his mistakes in how he's treated Third in the past (though Third changes the subject every time he tries).

For Third's part, he is definitely not missing Khai's behavior and its implications, but he is refusing to engage with it and definitely doesn't believe it's real. They are back to getting along better after Third airing out some of his anger, but you can see a wall go up whenever Khai tries to talk to him about their relationship. He's been hurt too much at this point and he's not willing to listen. And while Khai's regret in this episode feels genuine, as does his uncertainty about how to act around Third, it doesn't take long for him to forget his resolve to keep things friendly and stay out of Third's business. Once his jealousy over Un is reactivated at a party where everyone is acting a fool, he makes a public spectacle of "defending" Third by wailing on Un and delivers the worst confession of all time.

Third’s face says it all. He's been trying to avoid acknowledging the change in Khai's behavior for weeks, and now Khai has forced him to confront it in the worst possible way in front of a bunch of onlookers. He has always wanted to hear these words from Khai, but not like this and not at this time when he is trying to move on from him. Their path to getting on the same page continues to be rough.