#I don't even know if there are “proper” tags for this

[geminorvm]

sunkissed || Phainon

Summary:

The warmth of the sun is a wonderful thing, yet, you have to be careful to not get burned. So, keep your distance and enjoy it from afar. That's what you tell yourself when you come face to face with seemingly the reincarnation of the sun: Phainon.

Wordcount: 22.5k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Phainon / f!Reader

Tags/CW:

sfw, shoujo au, gendered terms as reader is fem (such as girlfriend, cute, pretty), strangers to friends to lovers, awkward situations (attempted blackmail), reconciliation, reader and phainon both love shoujo manga, i'm glazing orv in this one <3, accident during class, slight miscommunication, phainon literally forcing you to accept his help, silly antics (might be cringe depending on who you ask), study sessions (one time with his friends, one time just with him), reader affectionately bullies phainon, forced proximity, sun and moon mentions, reader slowly falls in love with him and realizes it much later, implied he falls first (she falls hard), putting some distance to avoid heartbreak, shopping arc, teasing of friends about it, implied social anxiety, phainon cares so much and helps with everything, puppy coded ofc, so much touching each other, confession in the rain, him giving reader his hoodie, handholding, borderline flirting, trying to keep the relationship lowkey but failing, mainly bc phainon is like That, so many hugs, cheek and forehead kisses with tension, movie date, clinging to each other during a horror movie, first kiss! and many kisses, this is fluff on fluff idk, this is just multiple scenes put together idk

Note:

this is a sfw and thus i dont mind minors interacting, but please, don't follow me, i post way too much nsfw and dc to be comfortable with that don't ask me anything, i dont know what this is supposed to be, this took way too much time, enjoy!

They tell you, do not directly look into the sun. Do not look directly into its radiance as its sheer splendor might end up hurting you, will end up hurting you. As a little kid, you didn’t quite understand why. Why would the sun bring you pain? Surely, it only wants to bring you warmth and light, surely it doesn’t truly mean you or anyone else any harm. Yet, despite scepticism, you listened and never dared to point your gaze directly onto the sun, simply enjoying its gifts from afar as one should, never close enough to feel more than its presence, never close enough to feel its touch, its kiss on your skin.

And you continue to listen to this piece of advice throughout your life. Never look directly into the sun. That’s what you follow, and that’s what you’re still doing as you avoid looking at the person standing in front of you. 

Phainon Khaslana. 

The personification of the sun. Someone who shines incredibly bright and is even warmer to everyone he ever sets his eyes on. Yet, being the sun means the chance of getting burned if you happen to get too close to him, the chance of getting hurt by these innocent rays of his. Especially because you doubt anyone has ever seen him without the same kind smile gracing his beautiful face. Not that you would know or have paid any attention, as you have been careful to avoid staring at him every single one of the few times you happen to cross paths with him. And until now, there truly never was a reason for you to see him in the first place; different classes, different social circles, entirely different lives. In a way, the two of you are akin to parallel lines; never meant to intersect under any normal circumstances. 

Yet, here you are, standing directly in front of the famous golden boy. The one some even call ‘Deliverer’ because he’s that one person who will always help you in times of need, no matter the place or the time. Something you have never considered even taking advantage of, you don’t need his help, as you’d rather rack your brain by yourself to find a proper solution on your own than rely on some apparently reliable stranger. If this were such a situation, you would refuse his help without a second thought. But this isn’t such a situation. None of you want help or offer help. You’re here by sheer misfortune. 

Classes change every year, the students mixing and mingling with different people every time, and it’s the norm to constantly have someone else by your side in the seating arrangement. And the school is big with multiple classes for each year, so, you really expected to never come face to face with him during your time at this school, the mere chance of ever meeting infinitesimal. Yet, this smallest of possibilities prevailed and came true. Phainon is in the same class as you. Which in itself wouldn’t be a big deal. You could simply ignore his presence as you beam your focus on more important stuff, such as classes and the stories you love to read. Something possible, something you could easily pull through. 

If it weren’t for the fact that he’s right next to you, that he’s getting ready to take over the seat right next to yours. 

You press your lips together in a tight line and turn towards your own desk to set your space accordingly. While doing so, you make sure to inconspicuously move your place as far away from him as the seating arrangement allows you to. This is the only thing you could do at the moment, as even exchanging seats with another person could prove difficult. Your homeroom teacher has forbidden it from the start to avoid any complications and fights. Probably because of your deskmate. You wouldn’t be surprised if many desired to sit next to him and would give up anything for this privilege. The amount of bribes you could have collected just for giving up your seat to someone might go beyond your expectations. But alas, this situation is unavoidable and you end up losing even your imaginary treats. 

Finally settling into your chair, you feel his eyes on you, almost like Phainon is waiting for you to say anything to him. But you don’t. You remain steadfast and instead direct your gaze towards the window to look outside or towards your open notebooks spread in front of you. 

Even during the ongoing classes, he continues to be relentless, his glances landing on you too often to attribute it to mere coincidence, and all you could do is furrow your eyebrows to radiate as much negative energy out of you as possible. A clear sign to leave you alone. 

Which doesn’t seem to work, because the moment the bell for the break sounds, Phainon begins to turn towards you, his mouth opening with the usual smile.

“They, pa–”

Before he could even get the second word out of his mouth, much less the whole greeting, you bolt out of your seat and leave the classroom with long strides, careful to not run and to attract any attention that way. Briefly glancing behind you, you notice how some people have started gathering around him, thus blocking his way if he ever intends to run after you. Which you doubt, because who would run behind a stranger in the first place. But if he happens to be such a weirdo, you would be long gone and tucked away in the crowd of students before he could even get the chance to look for you. 

You’re glad you got to get away in time, because you cannot imagine sitting there, practically surrounded by a horde of people chatting up a storm at Phainon while he simply entertains them. It would frankly grate on your nerves, so you may have to give them a nasty look in the future if it never truly abates and they continuously overstay their welcome. 

You use this short break to get some fresh air and to stretch your legs with a small walk, only getting back to the classroom just as the second bell rings to signify the end of said break. As you take your seat and pull out the materials necessary for the next class, you’re aware that you simply cannot do this every single break for the rest of the school year. But you’re prepared to do so for some time until Phainon gets the hint. If he ever does. Your peaceful last year practically hinges on him understanding social clues. Which he should know, right? Considering how well he gets along with everyone to ever exist. 

With this temporary plan, you return to your daily school life. At least that’s what you wanted. A normal day, no distractions, just getting through the day without any turbulence. Not whatever is happening right now. You barely understand the current situation as it is. 

It’s your routine to visit the library regularly. For various reasons; to rest in some peace and quiet, to study, to read the newest book you have been eagerly awaiting for some time, among other things. So, naturally, you have been spending more time there as a means to escape the borderline poisonous rays of sunshine Phainon gives off. That was the plan; to get away from his proximity and to calm yourself down with the presence of your beloved books and stories. 

But it seems as if the library itself is plotting against you. Because why else would you spy on Phainon through the gaps between the books on the shelves. There’s truly no reason for you to peek into what he’s reading. Besides the possible blackmail material, of course. 

Well, to be honest, that is your entire reason. If you had something to hold above his head, then he might possibly back off your back a little. And it would be fun to see him squirming every time you shoot him a look with the threat clear in your eyes.

You squint and try to look over his shoulders onto what he’s currently holding between his hands. And while doing so, you internally curse his build, because why are his shoulders so broad, there’s literally no reason for them to be so filled out with muscles. You think you might even see as the shirt is straining with the smallest movements. But there’s no time to grumble about his massive size and possible strength, because you just managed to catch a glimpse of the book he’s reading. Just one page, but that’s more than enough, as you’ve recognized it. Phainon is reading something unfitting for someone like him, he’s reading a shoujo manga. 

Reading a shoujo manga in itself isn’t such a big deal. You yourself are quite the enjoyer of shoujo. But for someone like him? This could easily tarnish the reputation he has built for himself. With this piece of information, you can easily expose him to everyone in this school and watch as he falls from grace with just one word of yours. Just the mere thought of him shutting up every time he remembers what you have on him, brings you inner peace.

With a satisfied grin, you tiptoe away from your watching place and out of the library. You’re already wondering how soon you can use your new weapon to your advantage.

Surprisingly, it did take some time until you actually decided to use this warning – it’s not blackmail, just a simple warning, you’re warning him against possible repercussions –, because for the first couple of days, you have taken on regular walks either on your own or with some friends to use this time to catch up with each other, all outside of his reach. And for some time, it seemed to you as if Phainon had begun to give up, because each time you slip away, his movements grew slower and more reluctant, until you didn’t have to hurry out of the classroom before he caught you. So, of course, at some point you thought it might be alright to just stay inside instead of getting away immediately; a chance to change it up and to read something in peace at your designated place. 

Ignoring the couple of people still swarming around Phainon – not without giving them a glare beforehand, though – you pull out your current reading and tap into the next chapter on your phone. You give the group one last glance before you focus your mind entirely on the familiar pages, the words in front of you drowning out their incessant chatter. Despite the noise, you feel comfortable and at ease, enjoying how the story is unfolding before your very eyes. 

You were so entranced in the writing before you, you almost missed the way Phainon has started to look at you, now that the people around him have left. You’re not sure if you can call them his friends. For some reason he doesn’t give you the feeling of truly trusting them if you compare it to his other friends from other classes such as Mydei and Aglea. Every time he’s with one of them, he seems to glow in an entirely different way. It’s akin to comparing the shine of the sun to the twinkle of a bright star. Entirely different categories. 

That’s something you have noticed, as for a year, Phainon and Mydei were in one class together, and apparently there was never a boring day with them around. Which would honestly suck for you, because you’d rather have a relaxing day than worry about two people almost starting fights every single day. But these days, in addition to the kindness they apparently show everyone, are the reason why both of them are immensely popular in the student body. 

Not that you cared. Popularity is something you have no use for, something fleeting and dependent on the whims of other people. To be loved by everyone is to be loved by none, in some way. Because how do you truly know who actually likes you and who likes you for what you stand for. But that’s honestly not your problem. It’s his. And it seems like he’s grown accustomed to it. 

Still, all these thoughts of yours won’t stop him from staring at you like he’s waiting to be noticed by his crush. So, with a sigh, you lower your phone just enough to look at him. Only to be immediately blinded by the boyish grin he gives you. Even as you’re squinting and frowning, you understand why people are so drawn to him. He truly gives the vibe of the perfect boyfriend, the perfect friend, the perfect partner, and so on and so forth. Still, you can’t be helped but be tempted to turn towards your phone and return to ignoring him completely. But alas, Phainon is not deterred by your facial expressions and begins to talk to you. 

“Hey, partner. Finally, I get to have a chat with you! I’m–”

“I know, I know. You’re no stranger to me or to anyone else, Deliverer,” you roll your eyes, keen on ending the conversation as soon as possible, so, you immediately take out your sharpest weapon. 

“Can you lean a little closer, though? Wanna tell you something real quick.”

Without question, Phainon complies until you two are almost cheek to cheek, but just far enough to avoid feeling the heat he radiates directly on your skin, just a whisper of it.

“Listen, Khaslana. I’d hate to do that, really, but lowkey, you don’t give me much of a choice here, partner,” you imitate the name he has given you in mockery. “But for some reason, you don’t seem to get the hint, so I'm gonna make sure it sits nice and tight, yeah?”

A pause, a tiny nod. 

“You surely don’t want everyone to know that you read shoujo manga, do you? Because it might be better if you back off a little and give me my space. Just so you know.”

With that done, you straighten up to put some distance between you and raise your phone to continue perusing where you have left off. You don’t particularly care about his reaction, but from his silence, you reckon your warning – not a threat or blackmail – has worked quite well. It seems that being so high above leads to some scary cliffs at one's feet. You hope he’s more carefully about whatever he does in the future, or at least be prepared to fall from grace in one sudden fell swoop. 

Either way, this isn’t your business, and you have gotten rid of yet another nuisance in life. 

But it looks like life doesn’t ever go according to your plans.

Nothing beats an outing with friends. Something simple yet filled with immense joy. That’s what this was supposed to be, going out with your friends, being silly and hitting some places to chill and chat. So, you don’t quite understand why you’re in your current situation.

The group consisting of you and your friends happened to meet another familiar group at the karaoke. And now, they have decided to hang out together, because one big room is apparently cheaper than two separate ones. Which isn’t a bad idea. The bad thing actually is the fact that the group consists of Phainon’s friends and him. You couldn’t even come up with an excuse to disappear in some hole in the ground before everyone rushed into the big rented room to share. In which, for some unfortunate reason, you happen to accidentally sit right by his side. 

You fidget with your fingers while stubbornly refusing to look towards him, the awkwardness choking the life and relaxation out of you. How could you face Phainon after practically threatening him? Yes, you admit, it wasn’t just a simple warning but straight-up blackmail, something no one in their right mind would do. You doubt you could ever have a proper and normal conversation after all of this. 

Watching your friends sing one by one, you rack your brain to think of a reason to immediately leave. A reason your friends would actually believe. Because they know you and your tendency to say anything to slip away and have with time grown a sense for these white lies of yours. So, that means you can’t just say anything. 

Deep in your thoughts, you almost flinch when Phainon stands up to readily take his turn, his laughter as he takes the microphone drilling into your head like the most beautiful melody. And you wonder if he can sing well with his soft and smooth voice. Only to practically get flashbanged by his performance. 

He’s an awkward singer, acting like he’s putting in the effort but his giggles resound too often throughout the song for that to be truly the case. His voice does sound nice despite everything, and you feel yourself shiver at the random thought of him whispering in your ear, low and slow. You immediately get rid of this thought, as the thing that truly shocked you the most is his song of choice. It’s the opening for a pretty well-known shoujo anime. Something even people who aren’t particularly fans would be aware of. And Phainon sings it by heart, word for word, not even embarrassed about the song itself, just about his singing skills. 

Rather, you’re the one suddenly feeling hot under your skin. You’re absolutely mortified. You can’t believe you have tried to threaten him with something he’s so open about. It seems like you have humiliated yourself for no reason, and he was kind enough to allow you this childish behaviour. 

The moment the song is over and everyone is scrambling around each other, trying to push the other to take over, you take this small chance to slip out of the room. You walk along the hall towards a random vending machine while pressing your hands against your cheeks, trying to get over your embarrassment. Now, you can’t ever look him in the eyes, even less than after your whole spiel at being intimidating; which turned out to be something of a shameful spectacle. 

With a sigh and some spare change, you order some random beverage from the vending machine. The coil slowly curls and releases the can before it falls down towards the opening with a clank. You lean down to reach towards it, but someone is way ahead of you and takes your drink into their hand faster than you could reach it. You immediately turn around with a frown pulling at your face. 

“Hey, that’s mine–”

And then you bite your tongue. It’s Phainon, and he’s rolling the can between his palms. 

“Hey, I saw you leave, is everything alright?”

This question feels like a gut punch. Why is he still kind to you, even after you tried to practically blackmail him for such selfish reasons? How can he care so much despite everything? You can’t believe someone like him actually exists.

You press your lips together and avert your eyes, contemplating if you should tell the truth or avoid the topic entirely. But you’re aware that this happened because of your constant avoidance, you’re aware you can’t run from him anymore, not after this. 

So, you pull your shoulders back and raise your head to face him head on. To look him into this stupid face with his stupid big eyes and worried frown, the usual almost-smile missing for once. 

“No. Nothing is alright. It’s– It’s getting to me, you know. You being all kind and stuff. Especially after what I’ve done to you, which– which in hindsight is so incredibly embarrassing, and I’m so ashamed… What I mean to say is… I’m sorry…” you blurt, the words which have been stuck in your throat suddenly dislodging at his simple question. 

Silence.Nothing but silence and you feel your face grow even hotter, something you didn’t know was even possible. Yet, you persist and keep holding eye contact with him, even if every cell in your body is screaming at you to look away, to run away.

For a moment, he just keeps looking at you as if there are many thoughts running through his head, which all need to be considered before he even begins answering you. And you worry. You worry that he might refuse you completely, that he might not want to try with you anymore – which would be understandable, who would want to be friends with someone who blackmails them –. you worry about fleeting stuff, the consequences and many other incoherent stuff, even to your own brain. Yet, all of that is more than enough to make your heart clench and tense. 

You’re not quite sure why you’re worried. If Phainon dislikes you, wouldn’t you have achieved your goal in getting him to leave you alone? But to you, that doesn’t matter anymore. This whole situation feels incredibly silly and childish to you and it’s your fault. And you genuinely feel bad. Despite your own feelings, you are ready to understand and accept his refusal of your apology. Your actions are incomprehensible, sometimes even to you; you can’t expect him to get it when you yourself might not. 

Suddenly, something cool presses against your cheek. ““Everything’s cool, don’t worry, I totally get it.”

“Huh? You do?”

“Well, yes. I’m aware of what the people talk about me, even if it doesn’t seem like it. And you wanted to avoid the crowd that comes with it,” he shrugs, as if it’s just something that happens. “I do wish that we could’ve instead talked about our favorite shoujo’s instead, but we can do that now, can’t we?” A smile pulls on his lips, genuine, instead of the one he wears around strangers. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, still on the fence and still in disbelief that it was this easy. But your guilty conscience prevails and you don’t have it in your heart to refuse him after he accepted your apology just like that. So, with a sigh, one of relief but also in surrender, you nod. “Sure, we can do that, whatever.”

“Great! Now, let’s get back.” Phainon wraps his fingers loosely around your wrist, enough to give you the chance to free yourself if needed, before dragging you back to the karaoke room. All while starting a conversation about manga as if you’ve been friends for a long time.

And with that, you understand why he’s so beloved to everyone. He truly is like the sun that warms your skin and your soul, blinding you only with his pure heart. 

Laughter bubbles up your chest as you enter the room following him. You only pause to close the door behind you, only to accidentally trap your own fingers between the frame and the edge of it. Whatever you were saying gets choked up in a small hiss as you shake your reddening hand. With the other you wave everyone who’s looking towards you off. 

“Nothing happened. Was just clumsy, don’t worry about it.”

Yet, when you sit back in your place, Phainon takes your hurt hand in his and presses a cool can against the aching spot. “You have to take care of yourself, alright?”

“It’s no big deal, really,” you smile with some hesitancy, still in some way unsure how to properly act towards him, but you have decided to keep yourself open to everything. 

He opens his mouth, his eyes suddenly serious, but before he could actually retort something, his friend, Mydei, you remember, calls him over, and soon the two of them are interlocked in a challenge of their own doing. 

You sigh as you lean back and decide to simply enjoy the rest of the day, pushing your worries aside for the moment, pushing the inevitable awkwardness aside for today.

The bell resounds, notifying everyone about lunch time. And instead of rushing out like you’ve grown used to, you allow yourself a minute to slump over your table and to release the tension in your back and neck. Now that you have to worry about Phainon, in more than one way, your heart feels lighter, unburdened. It seems like the dark life of blackmail and threats is not meant for you. 

Peace of mind and peace of heart. Peace in general. Or so you hoped. 

“Hey, do you want to eat lunch together?” you hear Phainon ask and raise your head slightly to look in his direction. Only to see how he’s laying over his arms and already at the same height of you, eyes meeting yours directly. 

You push your lips slightly forward, pondering. In truth, you’re inclined to decline and to spend your lunch either alone tucked away in some corner with eyes glued to a story, or with friends if they happen to be here. But at the same time, there’s some lingering guilt heavy in your chest and you can’t just go back to being mean to him with your whole being. So, there’s only one answer, really. 

With a sigh, you nod. “Sure, why not. But! I decide where to go.”

Without even pausing to consider your condition, he immediately answers. “Sure! Let’s go then!”

His bright smile – almost like he’s happy and even excited that you have agreed to eat lunch and to spend time with him – blinds you and you look away, acting as if you need to look for your lunch, rummaging through your bag, even if you know exactly where your food is located at. It’s just that you need to have a moment to prepare yourself mentally. Because you still don’t know how you’re supposed to spend lunch with him without going blind in all earnest. 

After intense mental preparation (as in, imagining a solar eclipse, which obscures the absurd amount of sunshine he gives off at all times), you stand up with your lunch in hand and lead the way out. And instead of going to the cafeteria – there’s no way you’re going there, a place filled with students, with the Deliverer himself, you don’t have a death wish –. you climb the stairs until you reach the highest floor, a small area in front of the doors to the open roof. For a moment, you contemplate if you really should go out there with Phainon, or if you should keep it safe and stay in this small space. 

But before you could come to a decision on your own, Phainon has already reached for the door and is holding it open for you, an almost mischievous grin on his lips. 

“What are you waiting for? C’mon!”

You raise your eyebrows but don’t say anything, instead you just step out to the roof with a small ‘thanks’ towards him. With quick and decisive steps, you make your way to the perfect corner, one where you’re in the shade, have a nice view of the field far away and hidden enough to avoid getting caught immediately. He takes a seat by your side and pulls out his own lunch. 

For some time, you both eat in silence, and you’re not quite sure if you’re enjoying it or if you’re actually feeling awkward. So, even if you’re not the biggest conversationalist, you put your brain through the wringer, trying to come up with a topic to talk with him about, something that couldn’t sour the mood, something normal–

“So, what are you reading currently?” Phainon beats you to the punch with a question of his own. And you realize with that that the powers of an extrovert cannot be topped no matter what. 

“Uhm, well, it’s–,” you tell him the name and immediately follow up with a small summary. 

It seems like he hasn’t read that particular shoujo, but he has read other ones, and soon, you’re exchanging names and favorites and recommendations. And if you happen to discover one you both have read and enjoyed, the conversation quickly delves into your favorite scenes and characters and their developments and so much more. 

“Man, I love shoujo. But I can’t lie to you, my ultimate favorite thing I’ve ever read is something called ‘Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint. It’s so peak, absolute masterpiece. I actually need you to read it immediately.”

“Oh, I know of it. I think it’s even on my to read list. I guess this is a sign to start it now.”

“Yes! Absolutely, you’re not going to regret it, I promise. It’s soo good.”

In your excitement, you almost grab him to shake him, but instead of doing that, you just bump your fist in the air. And soon you devolve into an explanation of why ORV is the height of literature and Phainon only watches you with a small giggle, your excitement infectious. 

Lunch is over sooner than you expected, and with it your reading list expanded with new interesting prospects. The conversation between you and Phainon doesn’t halt just yet, it continues until you’re both at your seats, small whispers even when the teacher steps into the room to start the next class, until you both get reprimanded for talking and finally stay silent. But not without exchanging glances with a giddy grin. 

This short amount of time has changed a lot, and you only now begin to notice the warmth that spreads through you at his smile and at his words once it’s gone and left you cold. You realize why people tend to get attached to him so quickly. Phainon truly brings joy and sunshine with him wherever he goes with such ease. The Deliverer, the Sun. All of it makes sense the more you get to know him. You’re glad that everything had happened and you ended up friends with him (Even if you’re not sure what qualifies as his friend, but colleague or classmate just doesn’t hit the right spot, so you settle on ‘friend’; at least in your head).

A ball draws an arch in the air with a small whistle before it lands with a thump against the backboard of the basketball hoop. A cheer goes through the people sitting at the edge of the playfield and you join the excitement, high-fiving the girl who has made that amazing shot. There’s nothing better than the adrenaline of a game of basketball during your PE class. Frankly, you love the simplicity of it. The drilling, the throws, the blocks, the passes. It’s just the right amount of taxing and fun. And it’s an amazing bonding experience with the girls of your and of the other classes. 

Soon, you’ve landed in the middle of the playing field, the very same ball now flying towards you. With tense muscles you receive the pass and immediately turn around towards the hoop. A jump, a shot. And no one in sight to block its way towards the set goal. A clank as it hits the backboard, the hoop, before it fully falls into the net.

Your lips spread into a triumphant grin, and you feel your feet hit the ground. And then suddenly, you’re laying on the ground with a throbbing ankle. With a groan you slowly sit up and clutch your ankle, the skin beginning to feel hot and to swell under your touch. 

A group is already swarming around you, asking about your wellbeing and fretting over the obvious injury. You begin to swat them away lightheartedly. 

“I’m fine, it looks worse than it feels, believe me,” you assure them and scramble your body parts to try and stand up again. And despite your words, every move shoots pain through your ankle and you have to grit your teeth to stay quiet through it all.

You swallow before setting your injured foot onto the ground, readying yourself to put some weight onto it. But before you could do so, the ground completely disappears from underneath you. 

“H-huh?”

Straightening your head, you see that someone has grabbed you, slipping their arm underneath your knees and back. And you reflexively have put your arms around their neck. You immediately look up and have to blink a couple of times. It’s Phainon. 

“W-wait, I can walk fine on my own!” you squirm in his grasp, but his hold on you is firm.

He barely glances at you as he makes his way through the crowd, calling: “Excuse me, teacher, I’m going to get her to the infirmary.”

“Hey, listen to me, I can walk! Let me down!” you shake his shoulder while he’s walking through the halls with you in his arms. 

And finally, he looks down at you, a furrow buried between his eyebrows. “I won’t because you can’t walk. You can’t lie about these things without good reason. And you obviously don’t have one.”

The way he looks at you – not necessarily anger, but rather worry and some form of disappointment – shuts you up immediately and you stop your resistance entirely. 

Due to his long strides, it doesn’t take long until you arrive at the infirmary. Only, when Phainon enters the room with you in his arms, the place seems to be empty, the nurse gone for the moment, probably on a small break or something.

He carefully helps you sit down onto the free bed, and instead of waiting for the nurse to come back, he begins to rummage around the cabinets, pulling some random stuff out of them one by one. After it seems like he has gotten everything he needs, Phainon returns to you with his hands full of medical aid. They clatter onto the small table by the side of the bed and he takes a chair to sit right front of you, before grabbing your injured foot. Diligently, he takes off your shoe and sock, and you feel the heat rush to your face at the sudden touches and the sudden exposing of skin. You don’t have the time to stop him and to insist on doing it on your own before he’s already done and pressing an icing pack on your swollen ankle. You hiss but don’t move. 

“Uhm, you– you don’t have to do that, I can do it on my own…” you try to push his hand away and take over. 

But Phainon doesn’t budge. Instead, he grabs a compression bandage and starts wrapping it around the ankle to secure the icing bag properly in place.

“You can do it on your own, I know that. But you can allow yourself to be taken care of by other people, too, you know?” he murmurs as he cuts the bandage and attaches the end with tape so everything is fixed where it’s supposed to. 

He stands up and puts some cushions underneath the ankle to elevate it. “I’m going to get the nurse,” he doesn’t give you time to say anything before he leaves the room. 

An uncomfortable feeling is squirming in your chest. You have never seen Phainon act like this, and in some way it scares you. You’ve grown used to seeing him smile and bring laughter in his presence, one of pure radiance. And now, now he seemed different, seemed like he lost his spark, like he doesn’t even want to bring the usual sunshine with him in your presence. You’re aware that this is your own fault, you have pushed him away over and over again, and now you reap the consequences of your own actions. 

You should be happy. This is what you have wanted, isn’t it? Peace and quiet, no relations or interactions with Phainon at all. Even if you’re not on bad terms anymore. That would be the ideal situation for you, a neutral stance and barely any contact to keep your peace.

And yet, your chest is tight and your eyes sting, and you cannot explain to yourself why this might be. So, you only curl over yourself, clutching your own body with your arms, as you wait for the nurse to finally release you from your own thoughts.

As it turns out, your injury was more than a simple twisted ankle. It’s a pulled ligament, and now you have to use crutches for the foreseeable future. Which honestly sucks, how are you supposed to get anywhere like this. Especially if your school is just filled with staircases. You might as well be locked into the classroom instead. 

With a sigh, you begin your slow ascend. The school is still empty, because it’s way too early to be here, but you anticipated that it might take you some time to actually get to the intended floor. Still, you curse the reality of the classrooms of the graduation year being all the way to the top of the building. It just doesn’t make sense, especially not if you have to suffer like that. 

Suddenly, you feel the weight of your backpack disappear and you halt your climb to look around in confusion. It’s attached to your arms, there’s no way you just dropped it, that would be silly and stupid. But the answer springs into your eyes immediately, as you are met with a broad chest directly in your view, and you have to look up to meet with Phainon’s eyes. His hand has grabbed the handle of your bag and has lifted it just enough to release its weight from your body. 

You blink a couple of times. “Uh, good morning..?”

His eyes jump to your bandaged ankle and then back to your face. “Good morning, partner. Looks like the injury was not something you could do on your own after all, huh?” He takes a crutch from your grasp to release the straps from your shoulders, one after the other, all while making sure you’re still balanced and safe.

You push your lips forward in a frown. “Listen, how was I to know that it was this bad.”

He chuckles and then your bag is in his hold before you even notice it to be gone. “C’mon, let’s get you situated.”

“Hey, that’s my bag. What are you doing,” you hobble after him in a hurry, but he makes sure to always stay just far enough to avoid your reach. But there’s something he doesn’t seem to have accounted for when he made this nefarious plan of his.

“Ow! What was that?”

You grin and aim your crutch towards him, aiming for the next spot. “Vengeance.”

“That’s not the definition for venge– ow! Will you stop that?”

“You’re such a nerd. I will stop when my needs are sated.”

“Oh?” With a couple of steps, Phainon is upon you, trapping you between himself and the wall. You feel his breath warm against your face, his body overwhelming you with presence alone, and you swallow. 

You allow yourself to look up and you immediately meet his eyes, blazing and yet shadowed by something. A grin is spreading over his face, and you feel blinded. This makes you realize how pretty he is, even from this usually unflattering angle. Your heart beats fast in your chest and for some reason you feel nervous and hot. 

“You can’t do anything now, can you?” Phainon whispers and you almost shiver. Only to realize he means that you can’t use your crutches anymore because of the small distance between you. The space between you is barely there, his body is way too close to yours and you feel his heat radiating off of him, and it makes your insides squirm. You’re not sure if you find it to be pleasant or not, but it’s getting too much too quickly for your brain for sure. 

“I thought you were mad at me,” you suddenly blurt out the first thing on your mind. 

Oh, oh, damn it. That is obviously the wrong thing to say, why would you just mention it now out of all times. 

A sigh and his overwhelming presence disappears, as Phainon takes a couple of steps back. His hand drives through his hair. 

“I– I’m not angry at you. It’s just… It’s just, I wish you would take better care of yourself, you know? I’m aware, it’s not your fault, but your consequent behaviour was– was not how someone reacts to being hurt like that… just that…”

“Oh… Uhm… Okay… I’m sorry?”

“No, no, don’t apologize to me, just– just promise me you would take better care of yourself, okay?”

You swallow and blink a couple of times. That’s something nobody else has ever asked of you, you didn’t even know that it seemed that grievous from another perspective. And usually, you would not make any promises, as promises mean a certain amount of trust between the two parties. But Phainon is looking at you like a kicked puppy, shoulders slumped, eyes big, lips pushed forward into a frown. You can’t do anything but relent at this sight.

“Fine, I promise… whatever,” you sigh and roll your eyes dramatically. 

A smile immediately appears back on his face and his posture regains vigor. “Amazing! Let’s go, then.” He continues on his way towards the classroom, your bag still in hand. 

“Hey, wait up, you’re stupidly tall, what the hell,” you call out as you jump on one foot to catch up to him. 

Luckily, he does slow down and walk by your side at your own pace. You grumble.

“Couldn’t you have done that from the beginning?”

“Do what?”

“Walk at the same speed as me!” You raise your crutch and he raises his hands protectively over his body. 

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry. It was just too fun watching you fumble around,” he giggles. 

“Funny? FUNNY? Oh, you’re going to get it, Deliverer.” 

You try to punch through his defenses, but he’s way too proficient in dodging every single one of your attacks, and you lose your breath before he even allows a gap in his protection. 

Acting as if nothing happened, you turn around and continue walking down the hall, huffing and puffing about him. Despite the hurried tempo you have taken on, it merely takes Phainon a small jog to catch up to you, his face practically glowing with a wide smile. Oh, how you wish to wipe that stupid grin off his face. But there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can beat him in. He has won.

With a defeated groan, you slump over your table. You have nothing on him, not even your grades. You joke about him being a nerd, but Phainon is in fact at the top of the class consistently, there’s no way you could win in that matter. And anything physical is a no-go, you’re aware of his build and stature, he’s nothing but lean muscle, and you’re obviously injured, not that you being on top of your game would have made much of a difference anyway. 

You gaze out of the window, only startling when the teacher mentions mock exams. There’s still enough time for the real ones, but it’s better to be prepared, so they’re pushing out multiple mock exams in regular intervals. You suppress a groan, how are you supposed to study under these circumstances. 

Then, you perk up. They say, to beat your enemy, join them. Slowly, you rip a piece of paper and scribble something in a hurry before you nudge Phainin and slide it over to him. He takes it and reads it intently, as if it’s something important. Then, he begins to write something on his own and pushes it back to you. 

You take it back and look at what he responded. But the first thing you notice is that his writing is insanely elegant. What an unfair world you live in. You huff before focusing again on the actual content. 

‘Yeah, we can study together :)’

Pumping your fist in your mind, you show him a thumbs up. You’re going to destroy him using his own methods.

“Ughhh, I can’t do this anymoreee,” you whine and your limp and heavy head falls onto your open book. You don’t even know what the current subject is, you’re tired and hungry and thirsty. This is torture. 

“Oh, are you tired? Do you want something sweet?” a kind, soft voice asks you and you glance to the side.

It’s Castorice. And she’s offering you a glucose candy. You purse your lips and nod slightly before taking it with a thanks. 

While letting the sugary treat melt in your mouth, you allow yourself to look around the table. Phainon has invited his whole friend group and everyone is huddled together in a study room. You wish he at least told you beforehand that it’s going to be a bigger group, then you wouldn’t have been as surprised as you were when you walked in on them, stumbling and almost breaking your face. You really can’t afford to break your face. It might be your last saving grace, considering how stupid you currently feel.

This was supposed to be a studying session, to study, to learn things for class. But it turns out, everyone in this group is way ahead of the curriculum, and currently discussing things you cannot even begin to comprehend. So, not only do you feel dumb, you also feel almost left out. If it weren’t for the lovely Castorice, you would truly be sitting in a corner, sulking. You decided to ignore Phainon for the rest of your life. Revenge is not worth it, you should focus on more important things. Such as–

“Cas, let’s run away together!” you say with a dramatic flair, akin to asking her to elope with you, and take her hand and press it to your chest. 

She giggles softly. “I would love to, but we really should study. It’s going to be good for us later.”

Castorice talks as if she’s on the same level as you, when you’re so keenly aware that you’re the one who desperately needs to study, not her. Like the rest, she’s on top of her game. You groan but relent. 

“Fine, whatever. I’m doing this just for you, though.”

You throw a dirty look in Phainon’s direction, but he’s too busy arguing about some technicality with Mydei. Their words are nothing but a disarray of technical terminology. Still, you see your chance, your chance to do something instead of worrying over your boring and headache-inducing studies. 

“I agree with Mydei,” you disrupt their discussion with your own opinion, albeit worthless because you have no idea what the topic even is, just that they’re both on two different sides, and nothing else matters. Because that way, you can get under Phainon’s skin. If you can’t win in any facet of life, you can at least make his much more annoying. 

“You do?” Phainon asks and whips his head towards you, eyes wide and eyebrows slightly furrowed.

You glance towards Mydei, who’s looking at you with a slight frown, almost like he can’t comprehend why you’re interfering in their intellectual fight. Then, you nod.

“Well, yes. His arguments ring true, if you look at it from a different basis and multiple perspectives. You have to take apart the implications and understand how they work together. So, he makes total sense.”

None of the things you have uttered have sense or reason. You’ve just jumbled some random words together to seem like you understand the topic completely, which you don’t, but that’s not something these two have to know at the moment. 

Your words seem to have some effect, because they both sit in silence and seem to ruminate over the implications and consequences of your opinion. Which again, in truth amounts to exactly nothing. But maybe they can make some rhyme out of nothing. Smart people are a whole league of their own.

For a moment, you keep a straight face, trying to uphold this facade of seriousness. But seeing them actually ponder so deeply about your nonsense inevitably makes you break and you giggle. Then you make eye contact with Aglea and Castorice, which both have caught up faster than the two boys. And you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, bursting out in laughter.

“For a nerd you’re pretty stupid, aren’t you,” you wheeze between breaths. 

Only then does it seem to sink in and they both huff, one with a broader smile than the other, but amusement clear in both. 

“This is what you get for dragging me, a normal person, to a meeting of geniuses,” you press your fist against his arm and push him slightly. 

He sways and holds his arm dramatically, as if you have punched him with true force. “My heart dropped from your betrayal, how could you!”

“Hey, I can’t lie to you, I will always side with Mydei on everything,” you turn towards Mydei and show him a thumbs-up with a wink. He only clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. You honestly take that as his approval. Despite his gruff facade, Mydei is much more emotionally mature than people give him credit for, even if you still struggle with reading his micro-expressions.  

Phainon gasps in shock. “I think I just felt my heart break in a thousand pieces!”

Laughter and bickering continued to fill the room until it started getting late. And as you probably need more time to get home due to your current disposition, you pack your things and decide to leave a bit earlier than the others. 

“Wait, I’m joining you,” Phainon hurries with his own stuff, scrambling and fumbling with everything and you watch him with a small chuckle, but you don’t tell him that he can take his time, enjoying his reaction to a little time pressure. 

Soon, he steps up to you and stretches his hand towards you. There’s no way he’s asking to hold your hand, you need to walk with your crutches, still, so what exactly does he want? With this question written all over your face, you look from his palm to his face. 

“Your bag, please.”

You sigh. At this point, you’re aware that he’s going to get your bag either way – the amount of times your stuff disappeared only to be in his grasp during the school day is almost outrageous –, so it might be for the best to just surrender peacefully. So, you shrug it off your shoulders and allow him to take it off of you and to sling it over his own shoulder. The clash of colors and aesthetics is funny and you giggle at this sight. 

Finally ready to go, you both leave the room with a loud goodbye and walk towards the exit. This time, he makes sure to walk at your pace. It seems he has learned his lesson and does not seek the wrath of your sticks. 

The two of you walk towards the station chatting about anything and nothing. And as it happens, you take the train into the same direction as him. So, you end up squeezing yourself with him into the full car. There wasn’t any place for you to sit, so you tried to lean against a post to hold your balance. If necessary, you would step onto your injured foot, as you’d rather do that than fall down completely. 

Suddenly, one of your crutches is gone and the lack of support makes you sway dangerously. But before you could either land on your foot or drop onto the ground, you feel a warm hand around your waist stabilizing you quickly.

“Ah, sorry, I thought you would notice, should’ve warned you beforehand,” Phainon apologizes and you imagine he would rub his neck if both of his hands weren’t occupied by holding either the post or you. “You can put your arm around me to hold yourself.”

You open your mouth, ready to retort something, maybe a refusal even, but the train begins to shake before the words even form in your brain and you reflexively clutch his shirt for some hold, your whole body practically falling against Phainon. Against your own will. And normally, you would immediately put some distance between you and laugh it off, but at the moment such moves were effectively impossible. You practically have to depend on him this very moment with no other way out of it, your body can’t handle the turmoil by itself even if you wanted to.  

So, you embrace the situation, even if you keep your body stiff, trying to ignore the warmth or broadness of his body. Or how gentle his fingers are against your body. You gulp and feel how shallow your breath has become, how his breath is grazing your forehead. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, and you could practically hear the frown in his voice. Only, you don’t want to look up, you really shouldn’t look up, there’s no reason for you to look up. 

To answer him, you reflexively look up to him. He’s leaning slightly closer to be able to talk to you at a proper volume and you meet his eyes directly, the stunning blue mesmerizing and his breath now warm against your cheeks. You suddenly realize how good he smells, tropical and slightly musky, something you wouldn’t expect of a boy his age. All of these things, his warmth, his soft eyes, his mellow smell, short-circuited your brain and all of your thoughts are gone. Still, you remember to nod, earning yourself a broad smile. One so bright, it feels like burning into your retinas and you almost choke on your own saliva from the ensuing shock. 

For your health, you sink your head back down and try to look anywhere else but him. Sadly, due to his frame obscuring a big part of your vision, you end up staring at his shoulder, the most normal part to stare at, opposite to your other choices, which all would have been either weird, risky or hazardous for your health. 

In some way, you wouldn’t mind, but being the only one feeling overwhelmed by this situation kind of sucks. But also, you begin to understand the shoujo mangas a little more, this is heart-race-inducing. You open your mouth to mention it to your fellow shoujo-enthusiast, but you remember that if you tell him, you might as well confess that he would be the perfect male lead. There’s no way you’re doing that, that’s ridiculous. 

You don’t even like him like that. 

You don’t like the way Phainon smiles filled with joy, how he’s able to banter with you at every opportunity, how he’s supportive in his own ways, how he shares your interests, and you definitely don’t like the way he looks. This situation is only affecting you because of the sheer proximity, nothing else. 

Nothing else.

Nodding to yourself, you’re finally able to at least breathe a little easier. There’s nothing going on and no reason for you to feel so nervous around him. 

The rest of the ride is silent, a comfortable one, both exhausted and not keen on keeping up the conversation; both simply enjoying each other's presence. Soon, you arrive at your stop and you both get off. 

“Wait, why are you getting off here? There’s no way this is your stop,” you ask him with a frown.

“That’s true. But I couldn’t just give you your stuff back in an overfilled train, right?”

With this, Phainon helps you put your bag back on, one arm after the other, grasping your fingertips carefully with his to lead you through the handles, before he hands you your missing crutch back.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Now, it’s time to say goodbye. See you tomorrow, partner?” For some reason, his hand pats your head while he smiles. 

You nod, trying to ignore the sudden weight on your head, trying to ignore the possible reason for doing so. “See you tomorrow, nerd.”

Waving, you leave the station. But not without looking back at least once. Only to see Phainon not taking the next train, but rather watching as he comes out the other side to take the train towards the opposite direction, towards the direction you both came from. 

You frown. There’s no way he made this ride just to join you, right? But there’s nothing else to explain why he’s going back now instead of simply getting out earlier. Maybe that’s why he exited the train with you, to catch the other train instead of continuing the drive needlessly. 

Heat rises to your face at the mere notion that Phainon might truly have just wanted to accompany you and spent his time and put in the additional effort into this detour on his way home just for that, just for you. 

And, you definitely don’t like him, so there’s no reason for your heart to ache and to race and for your body to get tingly and mushy; there’s no reason for the heat rushing under your skin and for your chest to feel all light and airy. No reason at all.

Day to day life continues. And the endless pestering of Phainon continues. But you truly have grown to enjoy his company, even if the teachers have started to scold you more and more, because he just keeps making you laugh. Which is ridiculous in itself. Why would you constantly feel the urge to laugh and giggle around him? There’s no need for you to do that, but for some mysterious reason he just knows how to tickle that certain mirth out of you, and every time there’s nothing you would love to do more than to shut him up in one way or another, maybe even hit him to get him to stop. With him around, everything you do feels nonsensical. 

And it appears that it can only get worse. 

You slip a swear under your breath. “Fuck, I forgot my book.” With a groan, your head hits the desk, before you straighten up again with an absolute genius idea.

“Hey, hey, nerd, hellooooo, listen to me, give me your book. Khaslana, give me your book.”

“No. Our teacher reprimands everyone who forgets their book–”

“I know, it should be you, though. Give me your book.” You stretch towards him and try to snatch the book out of his hands. 

He shakes his head and clutches the book tightly against himself. “Why should I? It’s your own fault for forgetting the book.”

“Uhm, maybe because I deserve it? Because I entertain all of that,” you point at him.

“You just pointed at all of me?”

“Exactly. Aren’t you a smart puppy? Now, give it to me!” 

You lunge towards the book but his reaction is faster and Phainon manages to pull it away before your fingers grab it. Only, as you expected to get some hold with the book, you suddenly find yourself unbalanced in the air. And as gravity likes to pull things towards the ground, you topple over, expecting to hit the hard ground. 

But instead, you feel something soft underneath you. You open your eyes, which you have closed during the fall out of reflex, and are immediately met with the slightly flushed face of Phainon looking down at you. Why would he blush? You were fighting just a moment ago. 

It takes you a second to realize where gravity has dragged you to: You have landed on Phainon’s lap, your chest slightly pressing against him in a compromising situation. The heat rises to your head and you jump out of this positioning, only to hit your head against the table.

“Ah, fuck!” you groan and hold your head as you crouch down. 

You feel careful fingers slip underneath yours to feel out your skull. “Is everything alright? It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a bump.” 

“No, nothing is alright. This is your fault. Now you gotta at least share the book with me,” you jut out your lips, trying to cool down by distracting yourself, and hopefully him, from the earlier situation. 

Phainon chuckles. “Okay, fine. But I’m not taking any blame.”

Pushing his desk closer to yours, he puts the book between them. While he’s doing that, you stand up again and take your place. Just in time for the teacher to enter the classroom. They immediately start walking down the rows to check every student for their books. And then they stop at your table.

“Look at that, which one of you forgot their book?”

You press your lips together before you open your mouth to admit your mistake.

“Good morning, teacher. I’m sorry, I forgot my book today,” Phainon answers before you could say anything. “But look, my partner allowed me to share this one. Aren’t you proud of our teamwork?”

The teacher frowns. “You’re on thin ice, Mister. But, I will allow it because it would be the first time for you. And you–,” they turn towards you. “I’m keeping my eye on you, next time there won’t be much leeway, got it?”

You nod. Of course the teacher realized who the problem is. Phainon has probably the cleanest record in the whole school, you not so much. Still, him shifting the blame onto himself meant that the teacher couldn’t really do much without any other proof, because Phainon is probably one of the most trusted students ever, even if a little annoying. He’s just prone to discussing things at every angle with the teacher, especially if he has another opinion. In some way, that only made him look more genuine with everything he does. 

Even if sometimes you wished nothing more than to shut him up for one minute. 

With a sigh, you lean towards the book, your forehead almost meeting Phainon’s. He grins and leans even closer. 

“Got lucky, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say taking the brunt of it ‘lucky’, but if that’s your definition,” you shrug and avert your eyes. 

He’s way too close again, and you wonder if Phainon knows anything about personal space and proper distance. You’re keenly aware of his warmth, his shoulder almost brushing yours as he’s focused on the book before you, his scent intermingling with your breath, even if your breathing grows stiff. It’s not fair that he can concentrate on the work while your heartbeat is drowning every single rational thought of yours. In some way, you start regretting sharing the book. Yet, your body feels at ease despite everything. 

And due to the smaller distance between you two, it’s easier for Phainon to whisper bad jokes and suggestions to you, making you cramp from holding back your giggles. But that also meant that it’s easier for you to jab your fingers between his ribs so you can watch as he twitches and squirms without being able to do anything against it at all. (And you’re totally ignoring the way he feels so firm underneath your fingertips, because at the moment, nothing else matters but making him burst at the seams.)

Soon, the lesson is over, and you have not listened, much less understood, a single word. That’s another thing you have to redo on your own later on. What matters now though, is trying to get away as fast as possible. 

The moment the bell rings, you stand up, your injured foot now able to carry some weight as long as you don’t overdo it, and you begin to limp towards the door of the classroom with the highest speed you can take on. Yet, you’re not fast enough, you will never be fast enough, as Phainon doesn’t even have to do anything but to stand up from his chair to grab you and to heave you onto the table.

“C’mon, you don’t have to–” you squeak when he traps you with his body. One arm on your side and his legs pressing up against yours. 

“Oh, but I have to.”

“I have done nothing to deserve this, this is outrageous–” you lean as far back as possible, escaping the swipes of the marker in his hand. “At least not on the face!”

He only grins and continues to move the colored marker towards you and you don’t stop moving to dodge every attack of his. Until he finally hits your skin and a long streak down your throat is made. 

At this, you both halt your movements and you pucker your lips slightly forward. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, I really didn’t–” He presses his thumb against the mark and swipes carefully on your skin. You’re almost worried he can feel the racing pulse at your throat and thus you act quickly. 

“It’s okay, it happens. But now, you have to let me have my retribution,” you grin and take the marker from his hand. 

You push him away to change places with him. Only is Phainon much taller than you. 

“Ah, no, don’t sit on the table. Are you stupid, how should I reach you like that? Sit on a chair like a normal person,” you shake your head and stem your hands on your hips, as if disappointed in him.

“Oh, yes, that makes sense,” he scratches the back of his neck and takes a seat on the chair instead. 

After he has settled down, you step to his side, tugging slightly at his collar and loosening it. It’s way too easy to expose him like that, and you notice how the veins run underneath his skin and how even his neck shows his physical capabilities. You grit your teeth once before saying anything.

“Now, be a good boy and hold still,” you murmur before leaning down and pressing the marker carefully on his skin, hesitating briefly as you feel him shiver slightly. Probably just a little ticklish – or scared.

With smooth motions, and a tongue peeking between your lips, you draw one line after the other. Your other hand has grabbed his chin carefully to tilt it up for more access and to keep him from doing any sudden movements. 

“Uhm, not to distract you, but that feels like a lot–”

“Shh, you’re disturbing my creative flow.”

“Creative flow..?” he murmurs with slight confusion tinting his voice, but he shuts up nonetheless. 

One final stroke and you lean back, satisfied, and wipe your forehead as if you just put in enormous effort into it. 

“Done! Looks great! Wait, let me take a picture,” you quickly look for your phone. Once it’s in your hand, you set the focus on him, bending your knees slightly to get the best angle possible. 

Phainon grins and holds up two fingers as a peace sign. After you took a pretty good picture – after many blurred or out of focus or made just for you –, you lean against the table by his side and show him the picture of your choice, showcasing your work to him as he leans slightly against you to get a better look. The yellowish marker has drawn a circle and some triangles, forming a stylized sun as a result. 

“Oh, this is pretty good,” he reaches over your arm to slightly zoom in. “Should I get it tattooed?”

You slap his arm lightly. “Don’t you dare. This is just a permanent marker. But a tattoo is probably for the rest of your life, don’t decide that on a whim,” you click your tongue. 

“Okay, okay. Can I at least fix my mistake?” he points towards the line on your own skin. 

You roll your eyes and hand him the marker. “Might as well, huh. And don’t you dare put something weird on me. Or you’re gonna get it,” you threaten him as you take a seat on the table.

Taking the pen from your hand, he grins at you. “No promises.”

There’s no time for you to do anything but throw a dirty glare his way before he has carefully grabbed your face to take his turn tilting it for more access. Soon, you feel the velvety tip over your skin, soft and steadfast. And you try your best to only focus on the movements of the pen, not on the warmth of his breath against your neck, or the gentle pressure of his fingertips against your jaw. You feel your heart racing in your chest and you’re worried Phainon might even see your pulse visibly beating in your throat. 

The time stretches endlessly. Every single stroke and every single breath makes your skin tingle and your insides squirm. It feels like forever has gone by when Phainon finally releases you from his grip and admires his work with a smile.

“Looks good, do you want to see?”

“Hello, of course I want to? What kinda question is this?” 

As if prepared for your answer, Phainon holds out his phone to take a picture of you, and you copy his earlier movements, grinning and holding out a peace sign. You doubt he only took one singular picture, because he keeps changing angles and positions, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his seriousness. 

“Okay, that’s enough, that’s enough, show it to me now.”

With one last flash, he returns by your side, leaning against the table you’re sitting on, one arm supporting him on its surface – conveniently positioned behind you – while the other is directing his phone to be in front of you, a picture of you on the screen. For a moment you were too distracted by the way his body hovers against yours, one wrong move and you would be touching each other and your skin feels warm at the thought of being between his pectorals, for some reason. But you shooed these thoughts away and immediately steered your focus towards the picture and the drawing he did on you.

It’s a crescent moon. Not a big one, just one using the stray line on your skin and accompanied by the tiniest of stars as decoration. 

“Ohh, it’s pretty! Should I get it tattooed?”

At this, Phainon giggles and bumps his shoulder against yours. “Hey now, remember what you said? Don’t decide that on a whim.”

“That was for you, I – on the other hand – am totally responsible and always think everything I do through, unlike naive puppies in my surroundings,” you huff and give him a cheeky grin. “Anyway, do send that picture to me, yeah?”

Phainon only rolls his eyes, even if the smile tugging at his lips is betraying him. Your eyes get stuck for a moment on his lips, soft and plush and filled with joy, before you rip them away and look at the drawing you have made once again; a realization dawning upon you.

You’re matching. Sun and moon. Of course, it’s purely coincidental. You have chosen the sun, as Phainon symbolizes the sun to you, simple as that. And you doubt he has put much thought into it, maybe just drew the first thing that came to mind to fit the stray line, and as he has just seen the sun on himself his first thought might have been the moon, nothing more. There’s no way Phainon would choose the moon with this particular connection in mind. 

Still, you couldn’t help but feel slightly giddy about it. Nothing beats a couple which are sun and moon coded, not that you’re a couple, you don’t like him that way, and even if you did, you’re sure he doesn’t either. It’s just the romantic aspect of it, you are an avid shoujo lover after all. Who would you be if you didn’t romanticise some stuff without reason occasionally?

But you don’t get enough time to ruminate over it further, as the bell rings once again and the teacher soon enters the room. And even if each of you has their own book now, your tables continue to stay close. 

A couple of weeks go by and you can now walk around without using your crutches. Still, to give the ligament more time to heal, you’re not supposed to join any strenuous activities just yet. But that means you can pick up the simple walks with your friends during the breaks again whenever you have the time and energy. 

While everyone is catching up with the news of each other’s lives, the path you take goes by the soccer field. Immediately, the pace slows down, almost coming to a halt. 

“Look, doesn’t he look so dreamy?”

“Who? Phainon? Absolutely, he’s soo boyfriend material. Almost feels like an idol in that sense,” your friend giggles and her shoulders push against yours. 

“Do you think I got a chance?”

“Huh? Does he even know you?”

There’s laughter, none of you are really taking this seriously. In that matter, he seems to be in a different world. Because it’s true, if Phainon weren’t your deskmate, you would have never met. For a moment, you watch him kicking the ball, a serious expression on his face as he shoots the ball, and scores. The very same expression breaks into a broad grin and you think to hear his laughter mixed in with the cheers of his teammates. 

You hear your name called out and turn towards your friends. “Hm? What?”

“I said, you know him, right? Is he the way he actually seems?”

“Uh, maybe? He’s kind and charming and funny, but also such a nerd. I’m so serious, borderline a loser if you know him…”

Your friends exchange glances and giggle with each other. At this, you feel slightly out of the loop and squint your eyes at them. “What.”

“Ohhh, you like him~!”

Your mind forms into a big question mark. “No I don’t? There’s nothing to like?”

“You totally do! Do you hear yourself?” she giggles and points at you. 

Your other friend puts a hand on your shoulder as if in consolation. “I fear we have lost you. We’re going to grieve for you, my friend.”

“I’m still here? You’re not gonna lose me to that nerd of all people, psh, please.”

Your friend shrugs at your words. “Oh well, then you surely wouldn’t mind this,” she nods her chin towards the playfield and you follow her lead. 

There’s a girl from another class carefully approaching Phainon. And she’s really pretty, you can’t lie. Yet, despite that, there’s an uneasiness squirming in your stomach when you watch as she talks to him, watch his ears and neck turn red – you wonder if his face turns red, too, you cannot see it from your position –, and see a letter being exchanged. 

You grit your teeth, for some reason feeling upset over this. But there’s nothing to feel upset about. Even if you did like him, and maybe it’s time to admit you do, you’re not entitled to any of his affection. In some way, you’re lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place. 

“Of course I don’t, why should I? His love life is none of my concern,” you huff, an attempt to continue denying your feelings, to avoid making them worry for no reason. Because it truly is none of your concern, he’s allowed to like whoever he wants. And you’re allowed to ignore the inner turmoil he seems to cause with his presence alone. 

Without another word, you simply hook up your arms with them and continue on your walk, keen on ventilating the stale air of your worries out of your head with anything else. And a last fleeting thought enters your mind: you should probably take a step back from Phainon, to respect his new girlfriend, or whatever. 

If only you knew how difficult it is to avoid the things you have gotten attached to. And you have an attachment to your deskmate, unfortunately. So, even if you have started putting some of your walls back up, to protect yourself mentally and physically, Phainon still manages to make them crumble with a few words, with a simple smile. His everything has you in such a grip, you haven’t realized how bad it was before. Still, you try to avoid him at least outside of the classroom, that’s the least you could do.

Or that’s what you tell yourself. Because you’re getting major déja-vu. Your group has met Phainon’s group out in the wild again, completely by chance. And of course, as everyone is already acquainted with each other due to the karaoke event, they immediately decide to join groups. Again. Akin to the first time, there’s nothing you could do to protest or to flee, so you just stay silent and relent without even trying. 

Everyone is chatting together chaotically, splitting up in groups depending on the needs of each individual, and before you know it, these groups are headed in different directions, catching you off guard by the sheer speed of it all, you barely had the time to adjust, much less join a group. 

“Well, I guess it’s only us now, huh?”

You startle and turn around with a quick step. Only to face Phainon. Your eyes take a quick glance over him and you notice that his whole vibe is different. It’s probably due to his normal life clothes. You’ve grown used to seeing him in the same uniform as everyone else. His outfit is simple, yet it fits him incredibly well. A white shirt tucked into loose pants and a black leather jacket complementing the look (and boots which make him even taller than he is, which in your opinion is absolutely ridiculous). You think to perceive an almost dainty necklace around his neck. Beyond that, there is a choker visible for all to see, and some bracelets, but you don’t have the time to look closer before you notice that you have been almost staring for a bit too long. And that you have been distancing yourself from him for some time and he probably noticed the lack of communication outside of the classroom. Your texts suddenly short, always taking a long time to get back to him, and never sharing anything with him on a random afternoon anymore. Who wouldn’t notice such drastic changes.

You feel your insides cringe. That’s exactly what you wanted to avoid, being alone with him. But you really can’t justify leaving him alone, even if you were to say that you’re going to follow a random group. And he is your friend after all, despite everything. So, you will go around with him, maybe indulging yourself the tiniest bit.

“Hm, looks like it. Let’s do this, Khaslana,” you nod and begin the tour through the shopping center. 

In truth, none of you really wanted to get anything specific, perhaps that’s why you both got left behind after all. So, instead of looking around with a set goal in mind, you simply enter any random shop to browse leisurely. 

“Do you think I should get that? Like, I watched all three movies, big fan of him, I reckon he deserves a place on my chest,” you randomly ask him while holding up a shirt with Lightning McQueen on it.

He looks at it and puts his hand under his chin in contemplation before he nods. “Totally, you should make it your trademark while you’re at it.”

“Right? Totally my vibe,” you also nod with a serious face. 

Until you make eye contact with him and laughter bursts out of you two. You put the shirt back. Not willing to fully commit to the bit and actually buying said shirt. Then, you just continue wandering around, until you stop in front of the jewelry stand and take your time looking at the different chains and bracelets. There are some cute pieces, but you really shouldn’t get more stuff than you actually need. Still, it’s fun enough to see what they offer in the first place.

Some steps sound and halt by your side. A shadow appears as Phainon leans slightly over your shoulder to look at the same thing you are. 

“Hm, there’s some nice stuff here, thinking of getting your girlfriend something?” you ask and point at a couple of stuff without looking at him, engrossed in some of the necklaces. 

“What girlfriend?”

This makes you stop in your tracks and you turn your head to finally face him. “Huh? You don’t have one?”

“No? What makes you say that?” There’s pure confusion on his face, and you can’t discern any lie from his words or body language. 

“Huh… I thought you did… Uhm, it’s just… I saw you get a confession and thought you accepted it?” You cringe at your own words and feel the situation get awkward with each thing you say. 

At this, Phainon frowns. “Why would I? I don’t even know her. And I already have someone I li–”

“Khaslana! What are you doing here, bro!” Some random guys approach him and clap him on his shoulder as a greeting, a familiar gesture. You watch as Phainon easily switches to his usual self to give them a broad smile.

While he’s catching up to his old friends, you suddenly feel mixed emotions. For one, you feel relief, relief that he’s not in a relationship. And yet, you can put together what he wanted to say before he got interrupted, and you can’t give yourself that kind of hope. Still, you’re glad you can at least continue being friends with him with no repercussions for the foreseeable future. Even if you might have to keep this distance between you and him, as your heart is bursting at the seams just by being in his warm presence, and you’re not sure you can ever move on if you continue to be this close to him. So, you will slowly take one step at a time, until your heart isn’t preoccupied by him only, until you feel like you can be normal friends with no stronger ties than that lingering in your own heart.

With this decision, you wait until Phainon is done with his conversation. But before that happens, some of your friends see you and make their way towards the spot you’re at. It seems like they have gotten their stuff and are slowly but surely collecting everyone else, as they’re thinking of ending this trip with a meal in some fast food chain. And you begin to converse with them and input your opinion as if you were never apart, as if you didn’t spend this time with Phainon all alone.

One of your friends hooks her arm with yours and leans close in. “So? Did you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

“Well, this whole awkward thing you’ve got on with Khaslana.”

“Uh, I guess? But it’s not going to change anything… Wait, did you leave me alone on purpose?”

She only grins at you.

“Oh, I understand, this is what our friendship is worth, huh? Stabbing me in the back like that?”

“Noo, it’s not like that, and you know that!” she whines but her giggles overpower her voice.

You can only roll your eyes and smile. They only tried to help you, and in a way, they did. You came to a very important realization.

Over the heads of the chatting group, you suddenly make eye contact with Phainon and he gives you one of his blinding smiles. You smile back. 

Yes, a very important realization.

“Oh no, did it drop during our swimming lesson?” your friend asks as she points towards her own ears to show you what she means. 

You raise your hand to touch your earlobe and notice how empty it feels. A curse slips between your lips. Then, a sigh. 

“I guess… Well, there’s nothing I can do now, and to be honest, I’d rather go eat lunch right now than take a dip into the pool again. It’s probably still going to be there later,” you shrug and interlink your arms with hers to make your way out of the classroom and towards your long awaited lunch break. 

In truth, it’s one of your favorite pieces of jewelry, something simple and yet, merchandise of your favorite shoujo in hiding. You would openly admit to liking shoujo, there’s nothing wrong with that – unless one is a popular boy, which would be deemed embarrassing by a lot of people, which is apparently not the case if your name is Phainon – but actively wearing merch of your favorite character is something you feel shy about, so, you tend to wear more inconspicuous stuff. Which is usually more difficult to get in the first place. So, this loss does sting, you cannot lie to yourself. You’re only acting nonchalant to avoid any particular suspicion from others. 

You planned on retrieving it after school is over, hopefully in time before they drain the pool completely and making it unrecoverable. Only, when you slipped back into the empty classroom to collect something you forgot, it’s the moment you spot two different things: your lost earring twinkling on your table, and Phainon, buttoning up his uniform, the material sticking to his skin immediately – showing off way too much at once, and you have to avert your eyes immediately –, his hair dripping and darkened from the water it’s been soaked in. 

It doesn’t take long for you to understand what has happened, and a low sigh escapes you.

“Oh…”

You bite the inside of your cheeks. There’s something bothering you, a little voice telling you that he had done that for you, even after you have been so mean to him, after you have actively made the effort of ignoring him, after you befriended him and then began to distance yourself until you’re only barely talking during breaks between classes. Despite your behaviour towards him, Phainon still decided to get your earring for you. You can’t just do nothing while he’s literally sopping wet in front of you. 

Slumping your shoulders, you make your way towards your locker and open it, taking a small, clean towel out of it before you step in front of him. With a small move, you throw the towel over his head and push him to sit onto his table before you begin to carefully rub the wetness out of his hair, all while avoiding eye contact. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur after some time. 

A shrug. “It is important to you, isn’t it? Limited merch of that one shoujo…”

You press your lips together and let the towel slip onto his neck, tugging slightly from both sides. “You’re so lame, do you know that?”

The small piece of jewelry has found its way back into his hands, and he’s turning it between his fingertips. It seems like Phainon doesn’t want to react to your statement, rather, he looks up to you, drops of water clinging to his eyelashes and glittering in the rays of sunshine, highlighting his ethereal beauty once again. You have never noticed how beautiful Phainon actually is. How his face seems so soft and yet angled, how soft his lips look like – you know how blinding his smile is, but to see him without it feels entirely different –, how mesmerizing his eyes are, a small halo forming in them when the light hits them just right, giving him something out of this world. You suppose, that truly is how the incarnation of the sun would look like, and you understand why people would want to look at it despite everything, because you too begin to be too engrossed in taking in all the details that make him him without any external influence, almost missing his next words.

“Do you need help putting it on?”

No, you don’t. Putting an earstud back is one of the easiest things one could do. And yet, for some reason – definitely not because of the way his eyes seem so big and the way his eyebrows furrow – you slowly nod, not daring to even speak. 

Averting your eyes, you turn your head slightly to the side and give him better access to your ear. Still, you watch from the corner of your eyes as he raises his hand before you feel his fingertips grazing your earshell until he’s able to grasp the earlobe carefully. And as he’s looking for the puncture in your skin, his thumb caresses the soft and sensitive skin, sending small shivers down your back; and you swallow as you try to hold still. Suddenly, you’re overly conscious of him, of his every touch, of the way your knees hover close to each other, the way his breath caresses your throat, the way his body is putting a shadow over yours way too easily. You barely notice the earring hooking into your skin but rather the press of his fingers and the careful touches as he fastens it just right. 

After making sure that everything is in place, Phainon retracts his hand, his fingertips grazing your jawline and cheek, leaving a trail of cooling warmth behind. You straighten up again and glance towards him, only to meet his eyes directly as they look at you with something you cannot explain, something you don’t want to explain. So, you hurriedly say your thanks while putting some distance between you. And before you leave the classroom, you dare to give him a small smile. If you only knew what this small gesture would lead to. 

The sound of rain crackles against the ground and umbrellas. The weather is unpredictable, and you’re glad you have packed a compact umbrella just in case. Other people aren’t as lucky and thus are exposed to the unrelenting torrent. Most of the students either wait, use their bag as a shield or share an umbrella. The person you meet at the exit seems to be the first case. Seeing Phainon’s tall figure all alone, simply watching the rain without moving an inch, pulls at your heart. The same heart which still doesn’t want to let him go, despite the limited contact. On the contrary, it seems almost as if your heart hurts at the deprivation of this little sun in your life. So, to at least ease your own mind and soul, you step towards him and tap him on his shoulder. 

“Hi.”

“Oh, hey…”

You fiddle with the small umbrella before holding it out to him. “Here, you probably need it more than I do…”

He doesn’t take it from you, instead, he asks: “What about you?”

At his words, your heart wrenches, his kindness, his caring nature reminds you once again what you have done to him, and yet, he never dislikes you, rather, he continues to make sure you’re comfortable and well, despite everything. 

Pressing your lips together to pull yourself together, for some reason feeling close to tears. But this is your own fault after all, your own emotions got in the way of your friendship and that only hurt you both. 

“Uh, I can ask a friend to share it with me–”

“Let’s share it then.”

You pause. “What?”

An inhale, as if he’s collecting courage. “We can share the umbrella… right?”

“Uhm, if you want to? Sure…” You couldn’t get yourself to reject him. Not when his shoulders are slumped like that, not when he’s looking at you with big eyes filled with expectations. It seems like you’re still weak to him, still unable to deny him anything, still unable to deny yourself his presence. 

Almost immediately, Phainon perks up and a smile brightens up over his face. He then takes the umbrella carefully from your grasp, his fingers grazing your palm. For some reason, he halts his movements and makes eye contact with you, something flitting through them, before he finally pulls his hand away – taking his warmth away with him, leaving you cold and shivering – to open the umbrella. 

As it’s a compact umbrella, the space is small, and you have to step even closer to him so both of you are properly protected. This, in your opinion, is already too close. His body heat is practically radiating off him, and the only thing hindering the two of you from fully touching is the fact that he has raised his arm to hold the umbrella between you two. It’s yours, yet Phainon continues to insist on holding it instead. Which honestly makes sense, as he’s taller than you and thus can keep it above both your heads with little effort. 

Once you make sure that the rainshade is covering both of you properly, you begin to make the way towards the station. Silence permeates the situation, and you don’t know what to say to break the ice. This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t put up a wall between you after everything. Still, what’s done is done, and you can’t change what has happened. Only, should you try to change it now? Is it still worth it? Do you want to risk the possible heartache? You’re unsure, and before you could decide properly, Phainon suddenly stops walking. 

Your own steps only halt a moment later, yet, the rain doesn’t hit your skin. On the contrary, Phainon’s clothes are starting to drench more and more with each second, as he’s firmly keeping the umbrella above your head despite his own situation. 

For a moment, he says nothing. Only looks at you, his face serious, lacking his usual smile, his brows furrowed, his eyes staring at you with burning intensity. You feel the urge to walk away, but you don’t want to disrespect him like that, when he obviously wants to tell you something. So, you stay and wait, not moving, giving him the time.

Then, Phainon says your name. Softly, syllables rolling off his tongue with ease, yet his tone seems tense in some way, straining. 

“I– I know you have been distant lately, and– and I want to know why. I want to know why, because your absence causes me a heartache… One I didn’t truly understand until– please tell me it’s not too late…”

Your hand wraps around his bigger one, and while you lead the umbrella back over his head, you step closer to him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about–,” you have an inkling what Phainon is talking about, but you don’t want to think about it, don’t want to have hope until the words come out of his own mouth, “ –but I promise to listen, I promise it’s not too late if I can help it.”

His other hand grabs your free hand, his touch so gentle, as his thumb caressed the skin of its back. And his eyes focus on his movements for a moment, before he looks back at you. His eyes are resolute, almost glowing in the darkness of the rain clouds. He says your name again, almost a whisper, barely a pause before he says what’s heavy in his chest. 

“I like you.”

Oh. Your heartbeat stops and you feel lightheaded for a moment. This feels like a dream, like you fell asleep during the day and are having a vivid dream. One where everything you ever wanted suddenly becomes reality with such ease. But the sting of the wind and your racing heartbeat tell you otherwise. This is happening. Phainon is standing in front of you in wet clothes, with big eyes almost anxiously looking at you. So, for a moment, you were stunned, your brain stuttering, your thoughts incomprehensible as you’re slightly overwhelmed with your own feelings.

“Oh…” your mouth simply repeats your thoughts, losing all ability to think properly before speaking. He likes you, and you? You– “I– I like you, too…”

At this, Phainon stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, before his arms wrap around you entirely, enveloping you in his embrace. You stiffen up, but it doesn’t take long until you’re melting into him and putting your own arms around him, ignoring the cold water drops raining down on your skin in favor of his comforting warmth. 

After a couple of seconds, he releases you slightly to look down at you, hair dripping into his face and he has to blink the water away. Still, his smile persists and glows, even more radiant than you have ever seen him before, and you feel happiness coursing through your veins, filling you with the same sunshine he soaks you in. 

Until he opened his mouth. “So, will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so annoying. I take it back, I don’t like you,” you huff and turn your face away. Only to giggle when he bumps his forehead against your head. “Okay, okay, yeah. I will. But only if we get out of this rain.”

Reluctantly, Phainon fully releases you from his grasp to grab the fallen umbrella, and you’re glad the wind didn’t pick it up, or else you both would have been stuck under the rain for the rest of the way. 

After you’re both under the umbrella, this time less stiff and much closer, he hands you his hoodie. You take it, but not without looking at him in question. But he’s avoiding looking at you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! You’re just, uh, drenched, and your shirt…” There’s a blush dusting his face, ears and neck.

At this, you look down, only to realize that your shirt has grown see-through, and you feel the heat flood your skin. With hurried movements, you put his hoodie on. It’s warm, comfortable, and smells just like him. You can’t help but subtly sniff at it to inhale more of him.

Glancing back at him, you catch him looking at you and as you feel overwhelmed by his gaze, you pull the collar up to partially hide your face. 

“What are you looking at,” you grumble in an attempt to hide your shyness. 

Phainon only smiles at you. “Nothing, nothing!”

At this, you squint your eyes, but you let it go, for your own sake. “Whatever, let’s just go.”

On the way to the station, you decide to drop by a convenience store to get him an umbrella of his own. When you handed it to him, he looked at you like a kicked puppy, lips pushed forward, eyebrows frowning and eyes big. You roll your eyes.

“This is for when you go home, we don’t go the same way after the train station–,” you see him open his mouth and immediately add, “ –and no, you’re not going to get into the train with me, only to ride in the opposite direction afterwards.”

“How did you–”

“I’m not stupid, take it, loser.” You take his hand and push the new umbrella into his palm. Despite your words, you’d hate to know that he’s walking through the rain without any protection, especially if he had planned on taking yet another detour just for you. 

You leave the store and he immediately follows you with an open umbrella. This time, you don’t try your best to put as much distance between you, and the silence isn’t stiffening, but rather comfortable. Even if you feel his eyes on you way too often. 

“Eyes on the road, I’m not gonna warn you if you walk into a lamppost or something.”

He flinches at being caught staring but listens to you and pays attention to the way. Until you reach the train station and he hands you your umbrella back once you’re under a proper roof. 

“See you tomorrow, nerd.”

“See you tomorrow,” he nods and waves as each of you makes their way towards the right track. 

Only did you not say goodbye with this in mind. The very next morning, the moment you leave the train, you immediately see Phainon waiting there. Him standing there attracts many stares and whispers, and you’ve almost forgotten how handsome he actually is. The people are not gawking at him because they think he’s weird for just standing there, they’re in some way admiring him from afar. You would, too, if you weren’t so confused at his presence here in the first place. 

You walk up to him. “Uh, good morning, Khaslana, what are you doing here?”

Upon seeing you, he immediately brightens up, and you blink as a reflex, never truly growing used to seeing his blinding smile. “I wanted to walk with you to school,” he answers, as if it’s obvious. 

And truthfully, you have no retaliation for this one, because his eagerness is just so endearing and it’s easily breaking down all your defenses. So, you only sigh and give him a slight smile. “Okay, let’s get going then.”

With this, you exit the train station by his side and make your way towards the school. 

“Did you get home safely yesterday?” He looks at you and it almost seems like he’s walking the tiniest bit closer to you. 

You nod. “Hm, did you? I’m gonna return your hoodie after I wash it, no worries.”

“I did, and… You don’t have to return it… You can keep it…” Phainon rubs his neck and abashedly turns his head, and you almost miss his next words. “You look cute with it…”

Heat rushes to your face, and it seems like you’re not the only one, as you can see a pink color dusting his neck and ears, and his cheeks once he glances back at you. 

“Oh, okay…”

Silence permeates the situation, but not an uncomfortable one. You just keep walking side by side, your hands brushing occasionally. Each time it happens, you feel a small shiver, wondering if you should get over it and just hold his hand. But before you’ve gathered your courage to do so, Phainon hooks his pinky with yours. A small gesture, but more than enough. But apparently not enough for him, as he takes the absence of your rejection for encouragement, the rest of his fingers join and soon his hand is holding yours fully. His grip is gentle and warm. In comparison to yours, his hand is big, almost enough to envelop yours completely with ease. You manage to squeeze his hand and you feel the slightly rough skin and the callouses on his fingers, and yet, nothing has ever felt so filled with comfort as this before. 

With this, walking together feels much more harmonious, and the warmth of his skin slowly sets in your bones. Until you’re a street away from school. You stop and pull him to a halt. 

“Listen, would it be okay if we kept it lowkey? I don’t–”

“You don’t like the attention, I know. We can do that, even though I’m not sure I can hold back after how far we have taken it.”

You lightly kick him into his shins. “Don’t talk like that! You make it sound like– like we did more than hold hands!”

Phainon immediately doubles over dramatically, even if you know that your hit does not hurt. “You hurt my shin, and my heart. After everything we did together!”

“I’m leaving!” You pass him with stomps and finish the last stretch of the way. 

Despite the lead, he quickly catches up to you and thus you both enter the school together. And as your joined arrival is a new occurrence, you immediately notice the stares and whispers and hike your shoulders higher. Trying to ignore whatever they’re talking about, you only get bits and pieces. Something along the lines of how ‘he would never go out with someone like that, not after rejecting…’ and so on and so forth. 

You quicken your steps and make your way as fast as possible to the classroom without actually running; without caring if Phainon is actually behind you or not. Though, you’re pretty sure he is. He can be pretty relentless when it comes to pursuing you.

Finally at your seat, you allow yourself to simply lay on top of the desk for a moment. Barely a moment, as Phainon soon sits by your side, the same as usual. Only this time, he knows less about private space than before – not that you mind anymore –, and his legs are immediately pressing against yours; a silent support. 

You glance up at him and give him a smile, a thanks, before you begin readying yourself for the next class. And thus, the day proceeds as usual. There’s truly no difference outside of the shared glances and the way your heartbeat races with excitement each time you meet his eyes. And the fact that he’s using his ambidextrousness to continue to hold your pinky with his under the table. 

No difference, as Phainon, who occasionally goes out to the snack bar during the break to meet Mydei and his other friends, does the same today, too. You don’t join him, as you have never done so before. Rather, you have a small conversation with another classmate, nothing unusual. Until Phainon drops by to hand you a snack without a single word, pats your head, and disappears again to catch up to his friends outside. You have accepted the small offering because it took you by surprise, you barely had the time to catch up and to ask him what this is all about before he’s already out and about. Still, you’re not complaining, as Phainon actually got you one of your favorite snacks. So, you turn back to your conversation as you begin to pry the package open. 

“So, are you two finally dating?”

The packaging rips completely open and you stare at your friend, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Huh? Dating? Psh, why would I ever go out with Khaslana?”

Your friend puts her head into her hand with a small grin. “Really? Then why would he get you something to eat?”

“I don’t know, maybe he does that for all his friends?”

She raises her eyebrow. “I don’t think so, at least not with that look on his face…” She sees the confusion in your own face and gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t notice the way he looks at you?”

At this, you feel your neck grow hotter, and you blink at her a couple of times, trying to gather yourself. In truth, you haven’t noticed any difference in the way he looks at you. To you, he’s only a bit more tactile with you, but nothing more. 

“How– How does he look at me?”

“Are you blind? He literally looks at you like someone admiring the moon or something, all wide eyed and filled with, I don’t know, admiration. Totally like a puppy. Everyone remotely close to him has noticed it.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” you press your palms against your hot face. “I haven’t noticed anything, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I’m not gonna start talking about how you look at him. Like he’s the sun itself–”

“No, stop, I know…” Now, you fully bury your face in your hands, embarrassment tickling your back in shivers. 

“So, are you dating?”

You peak from between your fingers and frown at her. “No.”

“You’re lying! I know there’s something there, I will know, you can’t run away from me, ever.”

At this, you can only sigh and try to steer the topic towards something else, which only worked partially, as she manages to connect everything back to Phainon and you had to fend off her not unreasonable accusations for the rest of this break. 

Still, her words stay in your mind, and you try to stay vigilant to notice the difference between the way Phainon acts with you and with other people. It should work. Because you’re technically hiding your relationship with him, so he can’t be acting that different than usual, right?

Wrong. Despite your agreement to keep everything lowkey, Phainon continues to look at you with big eyes and a constant smile, as if he’s doped up or something. At this point, you doubt he’s even trying to hide it, because one time he gently swiped a fallen lash off your face and even caressed your cheek with his thumb for some time afterwards, acting as if it’s the most normal thing ever. But friends obviously don’t do this. So, you have to intervene, even if you fear it might be already too late.

Once it’s time for lunch, you grab him by the wrist and drag him upstairs to the roof. Only you don’t go to the roof but rather push him against the wall and press your hand to the side, effectively trapping him between you and the wall, even if his physique is much bigger and he could easily escape. But you know that he’s not going to do that. Especially not with the flushed face of his. 

“Oh, I don’t think I’m ready, but–”

You slap his shoulder with your free hand. “Shut up. Didn’t we agree to hide our relationship? Why are you acting like that,” you pout with a frown. 

“I’m not doing anything differently, though…”

“Khaslana, you literally caressed my face earlier, nobody does that to friends.”

“But we’re not just friends,” there’s now a pout on his face and once again he looks like a kicked puppy. 

You groan and let your head slump against his shoulder. “You know what, it’s my mistake to even try. Do whatever you want…”

Immediately, his arms wrap around you and he presses you close as he buries his face into your neck. An embrace all-encompassing. 

A sigh. “You really don’t know how to take things slow, do you?” Despite your slight admonishment, you wrap your own arms around him and melt into his hug. 

In some way, you should have expected this. And truthfully, you don’t mind being affectionate with him. You just don’t want the attention attached to being together with him. But maybe you can cope with it in some way, because for you, this matters more. You have given him more than enough grief about this relationship between you up until this point. 

After some time, Phainon reluctantly releases you from his grip, but only to sit glued to your side to eat together, while now and then sharing some of his lunch with you to try. Of course you do the same as him, putting bits and pieces into his box (none of you feed the other directly, the mere thought of his lips touching your utensils makes your blood warm, you doubt you could survive actually doing that). 

The conversation between you two flows, there’s not a specific topic, but rather it just moves freely as you talk comfortably with each other. 

Until he mentions some of the homework you have. You groan. 

“Don’t remind me, I have so much to study, I don’t want to fall behind, much less fail anything…”

“Well, how about we study together?” and seeing your facial expression, a frown showing your skepticism towards his suggestion, he adds, “It’s not going to be like last time, I promise.”

In some way, you don’t have a choice. Well, you do, but you also know that you could achieve more in less time with his help, so, you end up agreeing. Phainon brightens up at your answer and tells you that he’s going to text you the address later. 

With this, lunch is almost over, and you both get back to the classroom. This time, you let him walk as close to you as he wants to, his sheer warmth and feelings towards you shielding you from the whispering and stares of everyone else, as you could only focus on him and him alone. 

The arrow on your phone slowly leads you towards the input address. Until you’re standing in front of the door, for a second hesitating on knocking. You’re considering turning back and to give him some weak excuse as to why you missed this study session. But you can’t. You really, really need this time to focus on schoolwork. So, you pull yourself together and let your fist meet the door in a couple quick knocks. And when nobody answers immediately, you shrug – Oh well, seems like nobody is here, what a shame – and begin to turn around. Only for the door to open shortly afterwards. 

“You’re here! Come in,” Phainon greets you and opens the door wider right away. 

But he’s still standing in the doorway, practically blocking your way. You narrow your eyes at him before you roll them and step in, and right into him, where he receives you with a hug, his arms immediately wrapping around you and squeezing you close to him. You pat his back, and only push him away when he puts his chin on top of your head, to you an indication that he��s going to prolong this hug for as long as possible. 

“I’m still practically outside, stop that,” you murmur, and you have to admit to yourself that if that weren’t the case, you would allow him to hold you for a while longer. But the circumstances aren’t ideal and you really don’t want the whole neighborhood watching how you two cling to each other. 

“Right,” he releases you from his hold and finally allows you to step inside. 

You take off your shoes and put on the slippers he has put out for you. Only when you enter the living room do you notice that the place seems empty. In some way, you have expected him to have invited other people to this session. 

“Is nobody else here?”

“Uhm, no. My parents work. We can hang out in the living room, you can make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink?”

Shaking your head at his question, you slowly take a seat at the table on the ground. Being alone with him in his place makes you tense. But as it turns out, you didn’t have to worry about everything, because as soon as Phainon took a seat by your side, he surprisingly kept his hands off you and simply helped you through with every single thing you struggled with. And he really pulled through with everything, not allowing you to slack off, while explaining everything carefully and thoroughly; until you actually understood every single topic.

When you finally finish going through everything, you allow yourself to slump against the couch behind you. “It’s over, I’m done.”

“You did well, I’m proud of you,” Phainon smiles and his fingers trail over your forehead, slightly pressing between your eyebrows where you have been constantly frowning while studying. 

“Acting like it’s not you who literally put me through the wringer,” you scoff, but still close your eyes and relax underneath his touch. 

His fingers continue to draw over your facial features, his touch ever so light, going over your eyebrows, your eyelids, following the line of your nose, over your cheeks, until he stops at the corner of your lips. 

At this, you open your eyes and immediately make eye contact with him. You watch as the redness creeps over his neck, ears and face. At this, you feel your own skin heat up, and your lashes flutter as he slowly moves closer, his hand moving over your cheek to cup your face. And then his lips meet your cheeks. 

Your heartbeat races even just at this, the sheer proximity in the first place makes your insides squirm. You feel the need to touch him and it seems as if Phainon is feeling the same way, because he immediately buries his face into your neck, his arms wrapping around you and practically pulling you onto his lap, but still keeping some appropriate distance, so not quite as close as possible. But close enough. His heat permeates you, his breath tickles your skin, and you allow your fingers to run through his hair. 

“You make me feel crazy,” he murmurs, and you shiver when you feel his lips brush your skin. 

“You’re weird,” you retort in the same low tone. “And insane. What are you doing to me…”

His chest vibrates with a chuckle and his fingers draw circles on your back. “Hm, I like you a lot, do you know that.”

Your heart skips a beat, you doubt you could ever grow used to these simple words. “I do now…” 

“And?”

“And I like you a lot, too…”

At your words, Phainon giggles and nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder before he looks up to you. And on some impulse, you brush some strands of hair away from his forehead and softly press your lips against his head. 

There’s a weight and a push, and you’re suddenly laying on the ground and Phainon is hovering above you, arms on either side of you, face flushed and breath heaving. The look he gives you makes you hold your breath, something of a mix between his usual puppy eyes, big and open, and something entirely new, something almost needy. You see as his eyes catch onto your lips and you reflexively lick them. Which pulls a small whine out of him, before he simply slumps over you, face looking for your neck once again. But he doesn’t even give himself the time to find the usual place before he suddenly gets up and leaves the living room towards the kitchen. 

You hear the faucet running as you sit up again, suddenly feeling cold and a little bit confused. But at the same time, you’re glad, because you might have passed out from overheating if Phainon actually stayed on top of you with all of his body. You take this time to collect your disheveled self and to calm down your racing heart. 

After a short while, he finally returns with two cups of juice and plates with some sweet stuff. It seems like he has calmed down quite a bit, because he’s smiling at you as if nothing has happened. It would bother you, but you have seen firsthand how flustered he had gotten with each touch and each word (and you notice the small droplets of water still clinging to his skin). So, you allow both of you to move on and to enjoy the snacks together before it was time for you to go. 

Phainon actually decides to walk with you to the station. And immediately grabs your hand the moment he leaves the place with you, his thumb continuously brushing against the back of your hand while he accompanies you. Small conversations fill the space and you arrive way too soon at the station.

At the track where your train should arrive, you face him to say goodbye, only to be enveloped once again by his almost overwhelming embrace, his cheek nuzzling the top and the side of your head. 

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

You squeeze each other before you get on the train. In the car, you peek through the window and wave, wave until the train is getting on its way and he disappears from your view. You lean into your seat and suddenly feel the excitement melt out of you. Truly, nothing will beat the time spent together with him, you doubt you might ever forget this day, or any day with him. 

On a free day, one is supposed to stay at home and rot. What you’re currently doing is the complete opposite: You’re squeezed in a train car in between other people, almost suffocating. This only reminded you of the last time it was this full and Phainon was with you, shielding you from the borderline assault. And that was before you both were dating. You wonder how different it might be if you were to take the train together now. 

Speaking of Phainon, he’s the reason you’re even out of the house right now. The evening before, he had asked you to hang out with him today, more specifically to watch a movie. And you’re not that dense to realize that this was obviously a date. Your first date with him! You already feel your heart pumping excitedly in your chest. You even put a lot of effort into your clothing choices in hopes of seeing his expression at your sight. 

After the train finally spits you out, you take a moment to fix yourself to not look as disheveled as the ride has left you. While doing so, you step away from the tracks and look around, trying to spot Phainon. Which shouldn’t be difficult, he’s taller than most people, especially if he’s wearing those boots again. You notice a familiar mop of hair and make your way towards that spot with a smile. During that short walk, you watch as people stare at him and whisper, some even discuss something amongst themselves as they glance at him repeatedly. And once you’re close enough to fully see him, you realize why. 

Phainon is dressed casually, and similar to the last outing you’ve seen him in his normal clothes: a simple sweatshirt with a small, opened zipper at the collar with a shirt layered underneath, baggy pants and the same boots that make him even taller than he already is. Some bracelets, a small golden necklace, stud earrings. And is that a collar you’re spying? Either way, he totally looks so boyfriend, it makes you fangirl over him a little from afar (and who would blame you for taking a couple of pics of him looking like that).

Suddenly, you have an idea, and you lower your head and approach him. He barely notices you, busy typing on his phone, and you feel your own phone vibrating after that, as you receive a message, probably from him. But you had other plans than giving him an immediate answer.

“E–excuse me, could I have your number?” you ask him with a timid voice. 

At this, he doesn’t even lift his eyes before he responds. “No, I’m sorry, I’m waiting for my–,” he raises his head to give you one of his usual smiles, before he sees you and it morphs into one meant just for you, one crooked and dimpled and blindingly beautiful. “Girlfriend!”

Your name spills from his lips with his obvious excitement, and his arms immediately find their way around you and his cheek is nuzzling your head. “I missed you.”

You wrap your own arms around him and lean your head against him. “You’re stupid, we just saw each other yesterday…” you murmur. At your words he puts some distance between you – his arms never leaving you, though – to look at you with a small pout and frown on his face. So, you had no choice but to add with a giggle. “But I missed you, too.”

Only after you’ve said these words does the smile return and he releases you from his grip. His hand slides into yours as if it belongs there, and honestly at this point it might as well. But you don’t get moving, rather Phainon looks at you with big eyes before slightly leaning down, his forehead meeting yours. “You look so pretty today,” he whispers and averts his eyes, ears tinted red ever so slightly. 

Heat rushes under your skin and you smile shyly. “Thanks. You look handsome and so cool.” Your words only make the redness spread over his neck and cheeks and he rubs his neck as he straightens up again. 

“Thank you, shall we go?”

Once you nod, Phainon leads you out of the train station. The way to the cinema was short and sweet, filled with an ever-flowing conversation. 

Entering the building, stepping over soft, red carpet, you take a look at each current poster. Though you both have agreed beforehand on what to watch, you can’t help but be curious about the current movies. Until you stop in front of the one you were planning to watch. It’s dark, there is a shadowed rabbit with glowing red eyes hinted at at the edge of the drowning black, and one single ball pit at the center of it. It’s obviously a horror movie. You honestly should have expected that when you heard its name. And you’re not quite sure what to think of this particular movie. But you do know that in shoujos the female lead is scared and clings onto the male lead. You wonder if you should do that. It is a popular trope, because it leads to more physical affection between the pair. Which is not really scarce in your relationship, Phainon is pretty tactile and you end up in his arms more times than not. So, maybe you don’t have to overdo it, if you happen to get scared in the first place. 

There’s a pull on your arm and you look towards Phainon who nods towards the counter to finally get the tickets and the snacks. You let him drag you there.

“What do you want to eat during the movie?” he asks after getting a ticket for each of you. 

You hum as you stare at the menu of different snacks. There was such a big variety, you’re not sure what to get exactly. And of course Phainon notices your struggle. 

“How about we get one bag of popcorn and share it? We can get other complimentary stuff, too,” he suggests and immediately orders the popcorn once he has your agreement. He also takes your drink order and carefully crafts you both the perfect snack arrangement for the movie.

With all the food ready in hand, you finally get to the hall and quickly find your seat. Soon, the room darkens and silence covers everyone as the movie finally begins to play after some fitting ads. During which you had to slap his hand away from the popcorn, telling him to be patient and to wait until the movie starts before he wipes out most of it. Phainon pouts at your reprimand and instead grabs your hand before intertwining your fingers. This makes your skin heat up, because it feels much more intimate than the usual hand holding you have been doing. Still, you squeeze his hand and lean back into your seat comfortably. 

Unsurprisingly, your comfort doesn’t last long, as the moment something happens on screen, you tense and almost jump out of your seat. To avoid that from happening, you end up clinging to Phainon. Which would have been no big deal, but Phainon himself gets spooked at the same stuff, so you end up holding each other before slowly making eye contact. Looking at the other react similarly, you both have to hold in your giggles to not disturb the other movie-goers. 

In the end, his arm ends up around your shoulders while you lean against him, still holding each other's hands. That way, you could avoid jumping and sudden jerking, and are rather able to cling to each other immediately. Of course, the main reason is that you wanted to be as close as possible with him – and he as close as possible to you – and just needed a convenient excuse. That way, you could focus on the movie and enjoy his company at the same time. 

The movie is over before you know it and you let your head fall onto his shoulder, suddenly feeling the tension drain out of you. 

“That was a good movie, stayed pretty close to the source material,” you comment with your approval.

Phainon nods. “Yeah, I’m glad they obviously knew what they were working with instead of focusing on, I don’t know, aura-farming or using the actors for their popularity.”

“Exactly! That was refreshing to watch, I can’t lie, like the way they–” The discussion about the movie continues as you throw away your trash and exit the building, both of you still feeling the rush of it running through your veins. 

As usual, he has taken your hand once again, and almost like it’s the most normal thing ever, like he has always done it before, Phainon intertwines your fingers together with ease. You don’t complain. Rather, you like this growing comfort between you and the way he seems to be taking small steps to heighten the affection level between you two. 

Hand in hand, you simply take a walk down the road, enjoying the soft breeze of spring. Until something catches your eye in the window of a small shop. As you have entered a couple places before, you reckon it’s not going to attract much suspicion from him if you ask him to visit this one. And as expected, he readily agrees and even holds the door open for you as you step in. 

Inside, you walk along the rows with him in tow. Then you notice a gap in his attention as something seems to have grabbed it momentarily, and you use this small moment to slip away.

Once you’re sure you’re out of his view, you make haste in grabbing the very thing that has brought you to this store in the first place and quickly pay for it with no hesitation before you return to the aisle you have left him in. Only to find him gone. He’s probably walking around looking for you, and you doubt it would be of any help to try to walk after him, so you decide to stay in this spot, as he’s bound to return eventually. And you were right. After a few minutes, Phainon comes back with wide eyes and a frown.

“I thought I lost you.”

At this, you can’t help but giggle. “How can you lose me, silly, I’m not going anywhere. The store isn’t that big.” You step closer and press your hands against his cheeks, exaggerating his pout. He leans closer into your touch and sighs. 

“Still…”

“Okay, I’m never going to leave you, my good loyal puppy.”

Phainon grabs your wrist and acts as if he wants to dig his teeth into your soft skin. You squeal and manage to pull away. He only grins at your reaction and takes your hand in his once again, and you both leave the store. 

The path you take leads you to a hidden spot with one beautifully blooming sakura tree. There’s a bench directly underneath it and you decide to take a seat there for a small break.

Once sitting side by side, Phainon turns around to face you, saying your name softly. “Today was amazing, thank you so much. And I, uh, I got you something in that store where we lost each other. I hope you like it.”

He quickly takes out a small package and hands it to you, ears slightly red as he watches your reaction intently. You open it carefully and pull out what’s inside. A dainty chain with a small amulet; a beautifully crafted moon. The wire twists and turns to form the crescent with stunning intricacy. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breath, awed by it, and moved by his thoughts. 

And then, you rush to pull out a similar package from your bag. “I also got you something. That’s– That’s why we lost each other in the first place. I’m sorry…”

With big eyes and a slightly open mouth, Phainon takes the package and opens it in a hurry. To reveal a similar chain and a similar amulet, only was his a sun, made with the same technique as your moon. Almost like they belong to each other. 

An exhale, stuttering, stunned. 

Then, he looks up at you, speechless, but his eyes tell you more than enough, wide with blown pupils, almost watery, and just so filled with admiration and thankfulness. It seems as if Phainon feels overwhelmed, because he changes the topic. 

“Can I put it on you?”

The phrasing is different, yet, you get a strong deja-vu. And this time, there’s no need for any hesitation, you give him a smile and a nod before you hand the jewelry back to him.

Keeping your eyes at him, you lean your head slightly to give him better access to the back of your neck. You watch as he opens the claps and raises his hands to bring them behind you, and you feel his warmth radiating over your skin, feel his fingers and hand graze you ever so softly. There’s a small furrow between his eyebrows as he focuses on clasping the two ends back together, and he’s so close, so close you notice the small freckles over his face, barely noticeable from any bigger distance. You notice his breath on your neck, the way your knees are touching, the way his body is warming yours up with each move, bringing your heart to race so easily. You don’t pay attention to the connecting of the chain anymore, but rather focus on him right now, in front of you. 

Once the chain is properly attached, Phainon pulls back ever so slightly, letting his fingertips trail over your neck to your jaw and cheek. Warm skin on hot skin. His thumb caresses your cheek softly and you lean into his touch with a smile, meeting his eyes directly. Eyes which are filled with everything you know and want to know. Eyes which move towards your lips as he slowly moves closer and closer, at a pace as if he’s only waiting for you to pull back. But you don’t, you close your eyes with fluttering eyelashes.

His lips meet yours. Sweet, gentle. A wonderful touch, eliciting hundreds of butterflies in you, making your heart race and your head light. On instinct, your hands grab his arm and shoulder, your whole being melting into him. 

And time goes by too fast before he pulls away, his face, neck and ears flushed a deep red, and you yourself feel hot and almost bothered by the shortness of it. Until Phainon opens his mouth, a soft whisper leaves his lips, carefully, yet not hesitant, so sure of the weight and meaning of the words. 

“I love you.”

The breath in your lungs gets caught in between those words, and they easily turn your brain into pure softness as you barely register them and their meaning. They run through your veins, your heart, opening something in you. And you realize. Oh. That’s what it was. The happiness, the joy, the comfort, the excitement, the fluttering heartbeat in his presence. The answer is right in front of you, so incredibly simple.

“I love you, too,” you murmur and give him a smile, one of pure happiness.

There are many things flowing over his face, unbelief, almost shock, until it morphs into relief and blinding joy. And almost as if he cannot control himself, his other arm wraps around your waist and pulls you infinitely closer, the hand on your face caressing your skin as Phainon once again dives in to catch your lips with his. Over and over again. Never getting enough. And you melt into him, your whole body vibrating with your love, full and content. You giggle with each kiss and even dare to lean even closer to him. 

Drowning in his love and his kisses and his radiant warmth, you feel content with life. You could never wish for anything else, this is how you want to spend the rest of your life: in his arms, showering each other with your unbridled feelings, allowing yourself to do what nobody else dared before; to be sunkissed.

[yanderemommabean]

Your little Ganandorf drabble of how you like to write him as is literally CLAWING at my brain 😩😩😩

Would love to see a little extension of your idea of how he would be intimate with a scared reader (coming from someone who’s actually complained about how people will put “soft yandere” in their tags and it will be the meanest yandere you’ve ever read about)

The idea of him gently reassuring but also firmly telling the reader he won’t stop has my heart doing summer saults.! Love the thought of him eventually being able to get them to relax enough for him to give them a proper railing, making them cum so many times that they don’t even remember what they were scared about 🤤

Sorry, the rats in my head took over! Someone phone the horny police !

"Shh shh shh. It's alright, little dove, it's alright." His voice soothes, the pads of his thumbs wiping away your spilling tears as you hiccup and sniffle. "I promised to go slow. See? You're taking my fingers so well. You're doing such a good job my love. Try and take a deep breath for me ok?" You wanted to bite out at him for that. Like He has any room to ask you for anything. But you supposed it could be worse, and that this was quite literally the best case scenario with a villain like him. "H-hurts" You squeak out, shivering as Ganondorf nods and places soft, almost adoring kisses up the column of your throat. "Hurts? Ok, ok. Deep breaths. It's only two but you're so small, there's no doubt it feels like my entire hand...hmph. I love that about you. Your size forces me to be delicate and treat you like glass." His fingers slowly pull out of you, and the man can't help himself with how he sucks them and savors your taste. The deep, satisfied groans only make your cheeks warm up more, you could almost say they were on fire. "It's alright little dove. I know this is scary, but I love you. I love you so much I'm willing to work you open until you take all of me. And I do mean all of me. "

Looking down has your soul wanting to leave your body. That monster sized cock has you wondering if you could die if fully impaled. The girth, the length, hell even the veins! It's intimidating to say the least! He can't seriously think you're able to take that right?! He slowly strokes his shaft, groaning as he sucks on his wet fingers once again, eyes heavy and filled with lust. Slow, deliberate strokes has precum coating his shaft as his tongue cleans your mess off of his digits. His eyes hold something akin to hunger, and it makes your stomach drop. You wonder what on earth is going through his mind, but yo don't have to wait. He loves to tell you what filth is on his brain. "Perhaps I can open you on my tongue? That delicious ass right on my face while you whimper and blubber, shaking as I bring you to the brink over and over...Surely that wouldn't be as intimidating." "Why? Y-you don't even get anything out of it! Plus You're massive! What if this takes a while? L-Like days!" You squeak out, voice wavering as the evil king lays on his back and languidly strokes his massive, leaking cock. What on earth do you mean he doesn't get anything out of that? He gets the best experience he could ask for - aside from being inside of you and forming a soul bond, of course. Making you cum. Over and over. Feeling how your cute little hole squeezes and flutters, how you tense and shake, spilling down his face as he works you open and has your brain turn to a puddle. You're easily hoisted up, protesting useless (and it has been this entire time. Can you be blamed?! This man is sick! Evil! Corrupted! And god damn it why is he good at this?! ) "If this takes eons, then I'll be here. If this takes days, I'll be here. But you are meant to be mine, no matter how long it takes for you to have all of me. Be as scared as you need. I'm not stopping until you're moaning my name and clawing my back as I claim you and your body as mine, and mine alone."

(-Mommabean hehe, hope you liked!)

[edwardhartenjoyer]

Makeover Or Something More

Romeo Lucci x Reader

Romeo wasn't quite sure how he ended up here, waiting at the station for the galaxy express to arrive with you, standing near him.

Well, no, that's a lie. He knew how he got here. He was sick of watching you walk around in baggy clothes that you couldn't even bother to match. He was tired of your bland face that could be so much nicer if you just learned to moisturize better. He was sick of your stupid pouty face every time he snapped at you for being so underdressed for missions.

So yes, he did know how he got here. He turned in an R&R form with the request to take you with him, all so he could take you shopping. Give you a proper makeover. Maybe then you wouldn't be such a BB.

"Thank you again for doing this, Romeo." You said softly. You'd been surprised when Romeo had demanded you come to his VIP room the day before, expecting work, but instead being told to prepare for a day out shopping the next day. That he was giving you a full makeover, his treat.

Honestly, a part of you worried the sniper hated you. He was always bossy and mean about the way you dressed. Despite that, you'd somehow grown fond of him, and to hear him say that he was going to spend a whole day with you, buying you things, well it had warmed your heart.

"Tch, I'm doing this for me. So i don't have to assault my eyes looking at you like this any longer." Romeo huffed in reply.

Finally, the express came, and he marched on board. You followed after him and sat down across from him. Well, at least you had sense enough to not sit next to him looking like that he mused, eyeing you briefly before turning his attention to his phone.

His attention kept slipping upwards to you though, watching you as you silently scrolled through your own phone. Why was he doing this. There were plenty of people around the school he hated having to look at, so why were you different.

Deep down, he knew why. But he buried that feeling deep as he felt it try to rise up at the sight of you. He wasn't ready to face it, didn't really know if he wanted to face it.

When the train stopped, he lead you off and into the city. You stuck close by him as you weaved between crowds before finally stopping outside a store.

Your eyes widened as you gazed up at the name on it. It was one of those fancy stores that you'd never dared even walk into for fear of how expensive it would be.

"Romeo this place is way too much money." You complained as you followed him in. He cast a glance back at you.

"I told you, this is my treat. I'm well aware you can't afford this on your own, so it's on me. No, you won't have to pay me back." He replied, and some of the harshness you were used to being in his tone was missing.

You hesitantly followed him through the store. He seemed to have a destination in mind as he led you through the sections. Finally, he stopped in one of the clothing departments and began looking through. You stood off to the side, awkwardly watching him. Finally he glanced over and rolled his eyes.

"You have to wear this BB, so pick out something you like. If it's hideous, I'm not buying it." He huffed before going back to looking. You felt a small smile cross your features as you joined him in looking through the clothes.

You avoided looking at the price tags since you knew it wouldn't get you anywhere to argue them with Romeo. Instead, you enjoyed yourself as you shopped with the freedom to just admire something for the looks, not for what would fit your budget.

When you both had a collection of clothes picked out, you headed to a change room. After each outfit change, you went out to Romeo to show them off for him.

Each time you came out, you took his breath away. It wasn't the outfits. It never was. Even in your usual rags, you stole his breath. He'd never tell you that, though. He shoved those feelings down again as he gave you his opinions on each outfit.

The collection was wittled down to the ones you both agreed on. With that done, he paid for everything, even carrying some of the bags for you as you both left the shop.

You were thrilled about the new clothes, but you also couldn't help but feel bad for how much he'd spent on you.

"Romeo?" You called, and he paused, glancing back at you. A few hours had passed since you'd gone into the store, and your hunger was catching up with you. "Can we get some food? My treat this time. Please?" You pleaded.

You didn't know that he couldn't have denied you anything. "Tch, fine."

You smiled and led him to place you knew was nearby. It might not have been his level of fancy, but you loved the food there. And, surprisingly, he didn't insult anything about the place. He just ordered and asked you questions about how you'd been doing. It was nice.

You did indeed pay this time when you were done, and you both finally headed back to the train station.

The ride back to Dakrwick was silent, though Romeo sat beside you this time, almost close enough to touch.

Even back at Darkwick, he carried your bags for you back to the cathedral, dropping them off inside before turning to take his leave.

"Romeo." You called out, making him stop in the doorway. He turned, aatching as you stepped closer to him. Those feeling flared again, and he couldn't be bothered to tamp them down as you placed your lips to his.

His hands shot out to grab hold of your waist, and pull you impossibly closer. This moment was everything he'd wanted. Everything he'd wanted to express but knew he couldn't have with words, so he expressed with what he did know.

When you parted for air, you gasped softly, and he didn't think you'd ever looked more beautiful. When you grabbed his tie to pull him back into your room, he followed. He couldn't have denied you or himself this moment.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tag list: @cloudcountry @ash0-0ley @tinumaru @ventisimpilysm

Wanna be added or removed? Let me know!

[mimi--writes]

Deltarune Survey Results!

Around a month after the release of Chapters 3 and 4, I made a survey asking questions related to how people felt about the Chapters and the game in general. Here are the results! 

For transparency's sake, this survey was posted onto the r/Deltarune, r/Undertale, and r/Waterfalldump subreddits, along with on this tumblr account, and the Deltarune Unofficial Discord Server. I did NOT post this server in any character or ship specific fangroups, and while this account does have some Tenna-posting, I don't really have much of a following here, so I wouldn't say that particularly influenced the vote.

If you can't see the images, the text underneath has everything important described!

By the way, if you're like me and like seeing data like this, please consider taking this survey about favorite ships.

Keep in mind that, considering the nature of this survey, there are many spoilers abound.

Anyways, on with the results!

Q: Did you enjoy Chapters 3 and 4?

Surprisingly, everyone answered yes to this one. I know I posted this in the Deltarune tag and to the Deltarune subreddit, but I really thought there'd be at least one person who said no for the hell of it, or who just really didn't like the new chapters.

Q: On a scale of 1-10, rate Chapters 3/4.

Unsurprisingly, Chapter 4 was rated higher than Chapter 3, but they were both ultimately rated very highly.

Chapter 4 had an average rating of 9.19/10.

Chapter 3 had an average rating of 8.05/10.

I kind of regret not polling on Chapters 2 and 1 for this, but then again, I feel like the general consensus on those is already pretty clear.

Q: What is your favorite Chapter?

Chapter 4 won this by a lot. Seriously, 55.9%. Over HALF of respondents liked this one Chapter the most. I was kind of doubtful, but honestly, from what I've seen, and from other polls, it checks out.

Chapters 3 and 2 were next up, with 3 beating out 2 by less than 4 percentages points.

And last is Chapter 1... it's so tiny on the graph you can barely see it, but there were people who answered it. Barely.

Q: Has your opinion of Deltarune changed after playing Chapters 3 and 4?

Most people (83.4%) said they now like Deltarune more. A good amount (15%) said their opinion is unchanged. And there were a few people (I think 1.6%?) who said they like it less now.

Yeah, that's about what I expected.

Q: Who is your favorite character?

Okay, so Susie really dominated this one (almost twice as much as Kris, the second highest option), and almost a third of the vote, which is all crazy. I'm honestly kind of surprised by how low Spamton is, though, as well as Tenna beating Ralsei.

Here's the proper ranking:

Susie

Kris

Tenna

Ralsei

Spamton

Noelle

Gerson

"I can't Choose/Tie"

Lancer

Soul/Jevil (Tied)

Queen

Rouxls Kaard/Dess (Tied)

Berdly/Gaster (Tied)

Battatt/Seam/Jackenstein/Vessel (Tied)

Gaster tying with Berdly is crazy, lol.

I have a lot of thoughts on this one in general, but I do honestly think these results have a good chance of being accurate. For reference, the ao3 statistics for fics after the chapters realeased went Kris > Susie > Tenna > Noelle > Ralsei (though it's worth keeping in mind ao3 has its own skews in userbase); while polls I've seen usually end up with Susie winning (there was this one about the taker's favorite fun gang member that had 90k votes and ended up with Susie as the clear winner but I can't find it T_T)

Q: Did your favorite character change after playing Chapters 3 and 4?

'No' just barely won. 50.4% compared to 49.6%. Checks out.

Q:Who is your favorite secret boss?

I'm gonna be honest, I... really thought Spamton NEO would sweep this. He's always been an insanely popular character, and even now, he gets a lot of discussion due to his interactions with Tenna. But, uh, the results make it clear that didn't happen. The ranking was as follows:

Gerson (38.2%)

Knight (28.7%)

Spamton NEO (22.8%)

Jevil (7.9%)

ERAM (..2.3%)

Now, I know the Knight is not a conventional secret boss, but 1. It is secretly able to be won, as you back to go back to your save file after completion to beat it, and 2. Many people do consider it to be the secret boss. Because of the arguments over this, I did put ERAM in (Forgive my silliness in calling him 'John Mantle', my defense is that I thought it would be funny), but... ERAM lost. By a lot. And honestly, I'm not surprised. I saw a lot of complaints about the Sword Route while looking online.

Q: Did You do the Chapter 3 and 4 Secret Bosses?

The first image asks for the amount of people who did the Chapter 3 Secret Boss AND whether or not they did the Sword Route, while the second simply asks for how many people did the Chapter 3 Secret BOSS. Here are the rankings:

For Chapter 3:

Yes, AND I did the Sword Route.

No, and I didn't do the Sword Route.

No, but I did the Sword Route.

Yes, but I didn't do the Sword Route.

For Chapter 4:

Yes

No

73.5% of people fought (and won against) the Knight. 77.8% of people did the Sword Route. 81.5% of people fought Gerson.

Q: Have you played the Weird Route in Chapters 3 and 4?

It was kind of surprising to see how many people haven't done Snowgrave… from the way people talk about it online I really thought it would sweep. Ranking was as follows:

Yes (barely)

No, I have never done the Weird Route.

No, but I have done the Chapter 2 Weird Route.

The majority of players have NOT completed a Weird Route all the way through Chapters 3 and 4 (59.9%).

The interesting thing to me was the "No, but I have done the Chapter 2 Weird Route" option. It's the least popular, but it kind of swings the vote, if that makes sense. the majority of takers HAVE done a Weird Route through Chapter 2, they simply didn't complete it all the way through Chapter 3 and 4. Which makes sense, considering completing the route through those Chapters would require replaying the entire chapters for a single changed cutscene, which many people (including myself) simply aren't willing to do.

That being said, I kind of wish I included a question for how many people watched the Weird Route, since I feel like the answers would be much different.

Q: How has your opinion of [X Character] changed since Chapters 3 and 4?

Now this one was interesting. Very, very interesting.

This graph is different from the others in that, instead of using a google provided graph, I made it myself, simply because I felt that this was the best way to present the data.

Here's how it works. On the survey, for each of the characters listed, I asked how the taker's opinion of them changed after playing chapters 3 and 4. Either their opinion increased, decreased, or didn't change.

I decided to simplify everything into one graph, with a y-axis ranging from -1 to 1, where a negative change in opinion counted for -1, a positive answer counted for 1, and a neutral answer counted for 0. An answer close to 1 implies almost everyone likes this character more, while an answer closer to -1 implies the opposite.

And here's the ranking:

Gerson

Susie

Ralsei

Kris

Noelle

Dess

Asgore

Spamton

Toriel

Sans

Characters in red had a negative shift in opinion after the new Chapters. Characters in green have a score higher than .5. Bolded and italicized green means a score higher than .9.

Gerson and Susie were surprisingly close for the top spot, with a 0.015 difference in their scores. The reason I find this surprising is because Gerson barely had any screentime before these new Chapters, while Susie was already a main character.

Interestingly, a good chunk of people liked Kris less (around 12.1% of takers). Of course, Kris was still overall more liked by a long shot, but I still thought that was worth noting, since that number is much higher than it is for others in the green).

I think sans and Toriel being less well-liked makes sense, considering all the discussion and controversy I've seen pertaining to the Chapter 4 ending.

Q: Select the theories you believe in.

The following theories are believed by over 50% of the community (In order of most to least believed):

Dess Knight

Flower King Dark World

Noelle will return as a party member

Susie will break the prophecy

Deltarune will have multiple endings

sans is from Deltarune

We will inhabit Noelle at some point

Ralsei will learn an offensive spell (Exactly 50%)

I honestly wasn't particularly surprised to see any of these, except for the 3.9% of people who still believe in Kris Knight. I don't get how you can still believe in Kris Knight.

Anyways, that's pretty much it for this survey! I wanted to give a mention to the person who brought up Triple Trucies theory in here, because it's really cool in my opinion, and actually does seem to hold weight!

Triple Trucies Theory - the idea that the "triple trucies" gag from ch2 was foreshadowing that: Kris is working with Carol+Knight faction (represented by Queen) Kris is working with Gamer faction (SOUL+Gaster) (represented by Berdly) Kris is working with the Fun Gang (represented by Noelle) And the fact that they didn't get a choice in the truce with Queen or Berdly, but agreed to Noelle's represents that they don't WANT to be working with the Carol/Knight or Gamer factions, but are forced to by circumstances beyond their control. And likewise they DO want to help the Fun Gang.

I really do hope you liked seeing these results. I know I did, and once again, please do consider filling out my survey on ships so I can get higher sample size. If you'd like to take a more in-depth look at the results, check out the spreadsheet here.

[evans23]

Forbidden Love

Pairing : Karl x Reader OC

Summary : After the death of your husband, Karl welcomed you under his roof. And slowly, subtly, he started to creep under your skin, and into your heart.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Light Angst. Mention of war and death. Smut.

A/N : It's a request I got on Wattpad. I didn't proofread, there're probably some mistakes here and there.

Also read on AO3 Also read on Wattpad

Life is cruel. And ironic, too. It has a sense of humor all its own. My husband survived the Battle of the Somme and the Chemin des Dames, only to die three months after the war's end from pneumonia.

A common pneumonia had gotten the better of him, even though he'd survived a war he didn't even believe in. A war he'd been forcibly conscripted into.

Johann and you had been married by convenience. A marriage arranged between your two families. A marriage you hadn't wanted, but it wasn't as if you had the right to have your say. Not really. Your father had reminded you every day until your official engagement that his fortune would provide for you. You'd never want for anything; you'd have a noble name in Germany. Your mother, on the other hand, had told you he was a decent boy. He was kind, hardworking, and, importantly, he loved you.

That you weren't in love didn't matter in the equation. You were just a woman. Your existence wasn't meant to be fair. Nothing was fair for women. And because you had no money to run away, no friends to help you escape, no family support to refuse this proposal, you ended up marrying him.

He had always been respectful, kind, gentle... and boring. Johann wasn't particularly intelligent. He only liked horses, hunting, and card games. He knew nothing about art, he didn't like reading, even his geography was questionable, as for the history of his country... you were glad he at least knew the name of your emperor.

You had despised him immediately. You had no respect for his ignorance, and no matter how much he showered you with gifts, it didn't replace your disgust when he came to share the same bed. You didn't want to carry his child. You were afraid they would be stupid and shallow, like their father.

And now, Johann was dead, and you were alone. With Johann, the entire family fortune had vanished, and the name you'd become through marriage was no longer respected.

Much of your personal belongings had been seized, and because you still resented your parents for selling you nine years earlier as a breeding mare, you refused to return home where your old room awaited you. You didn't want their charity. After all, you were a woman, and nothing was fair to you, you'd thrown in your mother's face when she begged you to come back home. It wasn't your home anymore. Not after they had forced you into this wedding.

And it was ultimately Johann's godfather who took you in. Karl Hoffmeister. You didn't know him very well. He'd come to your wedding, you'd spent your honeymoon at one of his country houses in the south of France, you'd visited him two or three times, but you'd never really spoken to him. Nor with his wife, too haughty, too sure of herself to please you.

You were right to hate her. Karl's tragic story was no secret in high society circles. She had run off with one of Karl's employee, leaving him alone, humiliated, and bitter.

"You're at home here. Deirde will be your maid. You can ask her for anything you need. Anything. I don't want you to be shy about it," Karl had greeted you with a sincere smile.

Embarrassed, you stammered an apology, but Karl had waved it away.

"Johann was my godson. It's only natural that I take care of his wife. He loved you so much."

It was the kind of thing you didn't want to hear. You realised, with painful bitterness, that we don't all mourn the dead in the same way. It took you six months after Johann's death to understand it.

You wore black for dignity, for propriety. Because you were a proper woman. In social circles, people spoke of your understated grace, the sadness in your eyes. But you weren't sad because you had lost your husband. You were sad for not having loved him as you should have. You had never loved him, not for a single second, and now you blamed yourself. You regretted never having been a little nice to him, because he had never been a bad guy, but you had never been in love, and you wanted to make him pay for this arranged marriage.

You often thought back to your wedding. You remembered the tears you had shed before the ceremony under your veil, your father telling you that you could no longer back out, your mother who came after the ceremony to remind you of your duties as a good wife. She'd said that over time, it would become enjoyable, and you might even enjoy it if done correctly. You'd never enjoyed it. Not once. You knew that because you'd learned to pleasure yourself at the age of fifteen after stealing an erotic book from your uncle's library.

And today, you were in the home of a man had known and cherished your husband. A man who didn't spit on their name despite their ruin after the war. A family friend who offered you his roof over your head without question. And you, you were a stranger in your own life.

With Karl, there were no pointless discussions. A tacit routine quickly developed between you: you didn't see each other until the afternoon. You didn't exchange more than ten words at dinner, and above all, there was no need for formality here.

He didn't entertain, he didn't socialise much, and you were free to do as you pleased. It was another life, another rhythm, far from being superficial. And after a month, a kind of sweet tranquility began to grow within you. A peace you had never known, not even as a child.

And then, there was that afternoon when a maid came to tell Karl that you had invaded the kitchen. The cook wasn't happy, the servants were dismayed, Karl was amused. Outside, it was pouring with rain, and there you were, your cheeks flushed from the heat, your sleeves rolled up, busy peeling apples on the old wooden table.

"What are you doing?" he asked with an amused smile.

You shrugged continuing to peel your appel as he sat down opposite you. His gaze on your hands made you shiver.

"Are you making applesauce?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Johann loved it," you replied without looking up.

He nodded, his gaze still on you. The silence between you wasn't heavy. In fact, his mere presence soothed you.

"You know, you don't have to cling to what he loved. You have the right to love something else."

You burst into tears unexpectedly. He had said it kindly, without realising that it awakened all your guilt for never having loved him.

"I never loved him," you spat out, unable to stop yourself.

You immediately slapped your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide. How could you have said that out loud, especially to his godfather?

"I know," he simply replied.

You looked deep into his piercing hazel eyes and knew he wasn't lying.

"What?"

"You cried on your wedding day, you never smiled when I received you, you spoke to him rudely, sharply... You looked just like Charlotte."

You swallowed hard. Telling you you looked like his ex-wife wasn't a compliment, you knew it.

"Why did you take me in then?"

"Why not?"

You frowned, panting. You suddenly felt trapped.

"I saw Johann born. He was a good boy. And he loved you, even knowing you didn't love him."

"He knew?"

You couldn't hide your surprise. Yet, it wasn't as if you'd tried to hide your resentment towards him. At no point did you pretend to be his friend.

"He knew, and he told me so many times."

"He never said anything to me," you murmured.

You had been married for almost ten years, and he had never once said a word to you. He'd never tried to put you in your place, to remind you that you were just a woman who owed him obedience. You'd always thought he didn't care. That he probably had mistresses, and that anyway, after your three miscarriages, he'd lost all interest in you.

"When he came back from the war, he wrote to me," Karl continued, "he thought you'd softened. He thought maybe there was hope for you two, finally. That you were going to make it."

You squeezed your eyes shut. You didn't know. Nothing at all. And three months later, he got sick. It started with a perfectly normal cough. Three days later, he was coughing up blood, five days later you were feeding him like a baby, and two weeks later, he closed his eyes forever.

"I've seen tons of women like you. I always promised myself that if I were ever lucky enough to become the father of a little girl, I would never force her into a loveless marriage. That she would have a choice. To avoid being in your shoes one day."

You sliced your apple a little too vigorously, a mixture of emotions swirling like a storm that would never end.

"I'm sorry," you finally breathed, "sorry I didn't know how to love him the way he deserved."

"You weren't right for him," Karl replied, stealing a piece of apple.

You didn't know how to respond. You never imagined that this man, with whom you'd never exchanged more than three polite sentences, could have figured you out so well.

"You and Johann were too different. You're an educated young woman. Really educated. Not in housekeeping and mending socks. You speak three languages, you're a critical thinker, you know German history like the back of your hand, and you're capable of debating topics that are far from appropriate for a young woman from a good family. Your marriage was doomed from the start."

Your heart was pounding. What could you say to that?

He knew. Everything. He was perceptive, and he recognized that Johann deserved better than you... but that you, too, deserved better than his godson.

After that, something had changed between you two. Winter had set in, dull, cold, biting, and without snow. Every morning, you drank piping hot tea, sitting next to Karl, who drank black coffee while eating a hearty breakfast.

He then minded his own business while you painted watercolours, tended your houseplants, and sometimes you caught him watching you trim a bonsai tree on the veranda. You ate lunch together, facing each other, without speaking. You spent the afternoon reading and sometimes sorting through documents to help Karl. He He sometimes asked you to write letters for him; he involved you in his life without imposing it on you, and you found yourself existing differently.

And while you were looking forward to a cold but dry winter, you woke up one morning and everything was white. Too white. Noticing your gloomy mood since breakfast, Karl suggested a walk.

"In this snow?!" you were offended.

"Why not?" Do you have something against snow?"

"It's cold, it's muddy, it's too white."

He had laughed, you had accepted his offer, and now you were outside, walking slowly through the vast expanse of white that had covered the vast garden like a blanket of both anguish and comfort.

You had talked. About literature, politics, the war and its absurdity, Karl's business, and even his wife. That afternoon, there had been no taboos between you. Just the truth as it is.

You had shivered, almost imperceptibly, but he had seen it and removed his scarf with calculated slowness, tying it around your neck. You had weakly thanked him, your cheeks flushed, not just from the cold. At one point, you slipped on a patch of ice, and he caught you with a firm hand. He slid his arm You leaned against him, the warmth of his body against yours making you slightly feverish.

"Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve my life. I wasn't very brave not trying with Johann," you said, looking up at Karl.

He didn't answer right away; instead, he clasped his free hand over yours. You could feel his warmth through your gloves, and for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

"You should forgive yourself. Forgive yourself and move on. Live again."

Your breath caught in your throat and you had to force yourself not to cry.

That evening, after a long, hot, lavender-scented bath, you settled into the small living room, a blanket on your knees. Karl came and sat next to you, a cup of tea in his hands. You looked at each other, and without warning, he took your hand in his. An electric current ran through you, and you immediately felt bad for it. You couldn't. Not now. It was too soon; the mourning period wasn't even over. But could you mourn someone you'd never cared about even a little?

Karl felt it too, because he immediately withdrew his hand.

"We're tired," you said, trying to regain some composure.

"No. I'm not. But you still feel bad about Johann. Do you think you're betraying her memory?"

You looked away.

"No. It's me. I'm not ready. They'll talk. They're already talking. I've been living in a divorced woman's house for almost a year, me, a widow, a girl from a good family."

"You'd better go to a convent then," he said harshly.

You looked up at him, hurt.

"I look at you every day, and... You don't have to answer to me. You can leave, you know."

"I don't want to leave," you replied.

But as the weeks went by, the ambiguity of your feelings only intensified. And Karl didn't even try to hide what he felt anymore.

How had it happened? When?

You couldn't say, and neither could he. It had crept in slowly, subtly, silently. One morning you woke up, and for the first time, you felt what you thought you'd never know. This feeling that, for you, only existed in books. You had fallen in love.

"We can't," your voice snapped, one evening when Karl asked you to be honest with yourself.

"We can't do this for appearances? Haven't you gotten over that yet? It's for appearances that you married my godson and that you were unhappy. Ten years without happiness for him and for you."

He left the room without saying anything else, and you stood there, arms crossed as if trying to hold on to something.

Something that wanted to collapse. And the next day, two weeks before Christmas, you packed your suitcase without a sound, wrote a letter that Karl would find when he came home from a meeting, and left. You were going back to your parents' house.

The train ride was long, gray, and as sad as your heart. Your parents didn't ask any questions. You were welcome, you always had been. Your mother treated you gently, like a fragile thing mourning its husband. Except you weren't mourning Johann, you were mourning Karl. Your father had decorated the house, your cousin, heavily pregnant, had come to visit you, and you talked about rags and jam. You listened with half an ear, swallowed up by loneliness. A loneliness you had chosen. A loneliness to escape and that follows you everywhere you go.

Two days before Christmas, Maud, Johann's sister, came to visit you. She was small, blonde, plump, and always had a kind word for everyone. She saw no harm in anyone. Not even in you. Outside, it was cold, but not as cold as the eternal winter that seemed to have invaded you.

"I'm expecting a child," she had announced excitedly.

You had refrained from saying "another one." It would be the ninth, counting two miscarriages. She wasn't idle. In fifteen years of marriage, she had given her husband five sons and four daughters.

"Congratulations," you said flatly.

"We're hoping for another little boy. Well, Franz hopes so, I don't care."

Maud was born to be a mother. She took care of her children herself, refusing any governess or nannies, and luckily, her husband let her. They too had married of convenience, and Lord Richter's mistresses were as numerous as there were months in a year. You assumed, perhaps correctly, that Maud found comfort in her children, and luckily, her husband hadn't forced her to conform to what decorum demanded in your world by keeping her away from her children so that others could raise them in her place. You know for certain that would have killed the poor woman.

"If it's a girl, we'll name her Johanna, in Johann's honour. If it's a boy, Franz would like us to call him Philipp, like his brother."

Philipp had been killed in France. At least, that's what the letter from the Ministry had said.

"Oh, don't cry!"

Startled, you brought your hand to your cheek. It was wet. You hadn't realized you'd started to cry.

"It's not too late for you. You're not even thirty yet. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to find a good man, like my brother. And with him, you can have children too."

Was that why I was crying? Yes, a little. I'd never wanted a child with Johann, but that didn't mean I'd never wanted a child. A little being to love and cherish. A part of me.

"A widow must wear black until the end of time," I replied dryly.

Maud, who never lacked a sense of humour, burst into a laugh so powerful it could have made the windows rattle.

"That's not what Johann would want. Besides, I'm thinking about it..."

She rummaged through her reticule as if it contained a thousand things, and pulled out a crumpled cream-coloured envelope.

"He entrusted me with this letter before leaving for the war. I was supposed to give it to you if he didn't come back. When he came back, I thought about burning it, then I put it in my jewellery box, in case he wanted it back," she handed it to me solemnly. "He didn't die in the war, but he did, so maybe you should read it."

It was still sealed. I put it in my dress pocket, grabbed a dry biscuit, and talked about a play Maud and I had gone to see last weekend.

That evening, after a light dinner, I excused myself, pretending I had a headache, and went upstairs to lock myself in my room to avoid my parents' feigned sympathy.

Lying on my bed, I listened to the wood crackling in the fireplace. Johann's letter lay on my nightstand. I stared at it for a long moment, as if it might jump out at me. The oil lamp on my desk was almost out when I finally decided to open it.

"My dear [Y/N],

If you're reading this letter, it means I'm no longer with us.

I'm not sure you ever loved me. And that's okay. I am in peace with that. I'm not sure I ever loved you the way you deserved either.

I always hoped that what we built would one day be enough, even without passion, even without love. I thought those walls we built on shaky foundations would eventually stand.

I always promised myself I'd never ask for more from you than you could give me, and I hope I've kept that promise.

Each of your pregnancies has given me...

I hoped that we would finally succeed in building something beautiful, and each loss was heartbreaking. I don't know what you felt during those tragic moments. You were unreachable every time, closed like an oyster, and I didn't dare push you for fear that you would push me away even more.

If I never come back, I hope you'll miss me a little, but also that you won't blame yourself for not having loved me. I never blamed you. In a perfect world, you would have had the right to say no and follow your path. But we don't live in a perfect world, and the reality of our universe gave you no choice but to say yes to me.

So, my sweet [Y/N], I ask you to stay true to yourself. Don't play the game of conventions. Be yourself and live. Laugh, explore, accept that you're not perfect, reject what doesn't suit you, and... love. Fall in love for real and build a life of your own, far from the codes of German nobility.

I thank you for these ten years. They weren't perfect, but I tell you with all my honesty, they fulfilled me. For me, they were enough. For me, it was a good life.

With all my love,

Johann."

And you burst into tears. Uncontrollable tremors. You had never deserved Johann. And he had always known that from the start you had wanted more than him. More than what he offered you. And he had never resented it.

He brooded. He should never have agreed to take you in. You had parents. A family. But in a moment of pure selfishness, he had told Johann's mother that you could find refuge with him. That you would have space and time to heal.

The truth was, he wanted company. Charlotte's departure, his betrayal, the humiliation he had experienced, all of it was like multiple scars still raw. He wanted a little company. His health was improving, but his spirit remained deeply wounded.

He hadn't meant any harm. He had just wanted of the company. And little by little, day after day, your glances over your eyelashes, your shy smiles, your intelligence hidden beneath layers of modesty, all of it had warmed his heart.

You were pleasant, kind, and if he was honest, not at all ugly to look at. Quite the opposite, in fact. You were ravishing. Not a cold or conditioned beauty. A natural beauty, without artifice. Your brown curls framed high, always rosy cheekbones. Your long eyelashes seemed to hide a secret, and your mouth, a little crooked, balanced that all-too-perfect face.

As for that secret hidden in your eyes... he'd always known it. He wasn't a businessman for nothing. You didn't fool him.

When Johann, his godson, the boy he loved like a son, came to announce his marriage, he had been happy for him. He didn't know you personally, but he knew your family. Your father was an heir, your grandfather had made his fortune in the railways, your great-grandfather had made his fortune in coal mining. An old name, old money.

When he met you at the engagement party, he thought you were intelligent. Too much so. More so than Johann. His godson wasn't a bad boy, but he'd never shown much interest in studying, and after being expelled from three different universities, Karl had taken him under his wing and quickly realized he'd be a good employee. Nothing more.

On the wedding day, you were crying. You weren't the first bride to cry under her veil, you wouldn't be the last. You would learn to love him, to build your life with Johann, he was certain of it. After all, that's what had happened to him and Charlotte.

Ten years, two miscarriages, and a war later, he understood that you had never loved your husband. That you had been trapped in a life that You couldn't stand it. But you had the decency to mourn Johann. Or at least to pretend.

But every day spent with you had awakened something in Karl that had been extinguished since Charlotte. A throb, a warmth, a hope. But you were young. Twenty-eight years separated you. He had already tried, already been married to a younger girl, thinking she would give him a second youth. All she had given him was more white hair. And he, the powerful tycoon Karl Hoffmeister, had had his heart broken at his venerable age. He didn't want to risk suffering again. And you deserved better. A vigorous young man, who would give you children, who would take you around the world.

And yet, slowly, without too much noise, you had grown closer. There had been that evening when he had to resist, your small hand in his, to keep from kissing you. He desired you, lovingly and carnally. And it was for that he didn't have

You tried to hold back when you left. You deserved better, and he didn't deserve to suffer again at the hands of a young woman who already knew what it was like to be trapped in a marriage of convenience, without love, only duty.

"Karl, another drink?" asked Albert, his cousin.

"Advice, rather."

Albert put down his glass and straightened slightly. He was used to being asked for his advice. He wasn't the best lawyer in Leipzig for nothing, after all.

"It pains me to say it," began Karl. "I promised myself I'd never fall into that trap again. Not with a fragile heart like mine."

"Oh no... another woman," said Albert, picking up his glass of Scotch and taking a long sip.

"Too young."

"No wonder. You have your type of woman," his cousin teased.

Karl gave him a grim look.

"She's my godson's widow."

He said this in one breath without turning to Albert, who had almost spat his drink onto the Persian rug in front of the fireplace.

"Well... you never do anything by halves."

"Loving her is a mistake. I know that. But it happened without me realizing it. She softened something in me, a pain that had lived with me for so long that it took me a while to realize it was gone."

He got up and stood in front of the window, gazing out over the expanse of his garden.

"Does she know?"

"Yes."

"Does she love you?"

Karl thought for a long moment.

"She's hard to pin down."

"It shouldn't be too easy," Albert replied, without mocking.

"I wish it were. After what Charlotte had done and this..." he couldn't bring himself to say the name of his ex-wife's lover, "well, after that, I was certain I'd die alone. After all, the Fates were about to cut my thread."

"You're being dramatic. You should have been an actor."

"And at my age, "loved again" seemed incongruous to me," Karl continued, ignoring his cousin's comment, "but..."

"But you can't decide for the heart," Albert finished with the air of an old Buddhist sage.

Karl watched a fox speed across the grounds. It had surely tried to get into the chicken coop. He should remember to ask the butler to make sure all the hens were okay. He then sighed loudly before walking slowly, wearily, to his worn old leather armchair. Worn like himself.

"Send her a Christmas card," Albert suggested.

"A card?" Karl repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing too grand. Something simple. A plain Merry Christmas."

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"You open the door for her if ever... she wants to reconnect," Albert suggested.

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then you'll get over it. And if she just wants you to be friends, then you'll be the best friend she could ever dream of having. And if she wants more... well, I hope there's a Hochzeitstorte at your wedding."

Karl let out a laugh that was somewhere between choking and amused. Albert was already thinking about marriage, while he was hesitating between loving again a younger woman who might at best mock him, at worst use him for his fortune, and being content to end his life alone in his large mansion.

The card was plain. Outdated. But it was addressed to you, not to your family. He wished you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. The handwriting was straight, a little difficult to read. A miserable snow-covered Christmas tree on the card. A tree that was cold, like you inside. No "Thinking of you" or "I miss you" or "I hope you are well." A completely impersonal card that you had reread ten times to find a hidden message between the lines. In vain.

You hesitated for a long time. Christmas passed with its propriety but unwarming celebration, then the New Year with its hypocritical smiles and wishes whispered with feigned smiles. And two weeks later, while we were still busy visiting our acquaintances to wish them a Happy New Year without thinking a word about it, I asked to take the car alone. I pretended to visit Maud. Except my destination was completely different.

That day, it was cold but dry. The sky was white as washed linen, the air smelled of burnt wood and coal, and I had a knot in my stomach when the car stopped in front of the familiar manor. The butler, surprised, welcomed me and sat me down in the drawing room after taking my coat. When the door opened a few minutes later, he was there. Straight. Proud. Expressionless. Neither surprised nor angry. A stoicism that impressed me.

"I didn't think you'd come back."

He hadn't said it harshly, but you shuddered, unable to tell if he was happy or not.

We're so glad to see you.

"Me neither."

A silence fell between us. He walked slowly, carefully, to the chair opposite mine.

"Are you okay?" you asked politely.

Karl shrugged with studied nonchalance.

"And you?"

His tone had softened, and if his lips didn't smile, his eyes did.

"I..."

You didn't know. You were too troubled by your own feelings to know. You'd thought about it for nights on end, over and over again. You'd fallen in love. You knew it. For real. And you felt guilty for loving your husband's godfather. A husband you'd never managed to love even a little.

"Maud gave me a letter. Written by Johann before the war. He knew. He always knew. That... that he deserved better. And yet, he was always so good to me," you breathed.

"I know," Karl murmured compassionately.

"I hate myself for not having been able to love him the way he loved me. I hate myself even more for falling in love."

A silence. Heavier this time. You couldn't back away. Karl was looking at you with interest.

"Are you?" he asked, simply, straightforwardly.

"Yes. I know how I feel."

"Are you scared?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. But I came back because I wanted to. Not because I have nowhere else to go."

"Did you get my card?"

You looked at him, stunned. You'd just laid your heart in his hands, and he was telling you about his damned card!

"Yes."

"I wasn't expecting an answer."

"I know. But I'm here now."

"You shouldn't."

Your heart sank.

"I thought... You..." you stammered.

"I shouldn't have believed and let you believe."

His voice cracked, dry but not unfriendly.

"Karl," you said desperately.

It was the first time you'd said his name aloud, and he flinched.

"I was scared, but I'm not scared anymore."

"You're young. So young. You don't really know what you want. And I... I'm old."

"I want you."

He shook his head, clicking his tongue.

"You say that now. But one day, you'll wake up next to an old man and ask, once again, why you trapped yourself in a loveless marriage."

"But I'm in love," you fumed.

"Come on. You're young. Fiery. You don't know what love truly is."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you held them back, proud.

"You're the one who's afraid. Afraid to try. Afraid to fall again," you said defiantly.

He was about to answer but was interrupted by a maid who came to deliver a tray laden with tea and biscuits.

"The cook is asking if your guest will be staying for dinner?" she asked timidly.

"Yes," you quickly answered for Karl.

He looked at you in surprise but didn't protest.

"You're afraid of falling. So am I." But I'd rather fall again than not try."

He opened his mouth, then closed it. You'd taken him by surprise. He hadn't expected that from you.

"We can try without making any promises," you suggested, your eyes shining.

You shared dinner in silence. Karl hadn't answered you; he seemed to be deeply considering what you'd said. You ate slowly, without tension. There was a sort of quiet anticipation between you. After the meal, he walked you to your car, kissed your hand like a true gentleman, and let you leave without a word.

The next day, you went back.

"We could walk in the gardens," you suggested, your coat still on your back.

He nodded, went upstairs to dress warmly, offered you his arm, and led you into the vast expanses of his estate, still frozen. by the frost.

"The chervil survives," you remarked, pointing to a spot where you had carefully planted it last summer.

"I thought it was more fragile," Karl murmured, looking at you.

"I'd like to come back here."

He stopped and forced you to turn toward him.

"If you do this, people will talk. They'll tarnish your reputation. Everything was excusable before you moved back in with your parents. You were grieving. You still are," he remarked, pointing to your dark outfit, "but... people will talk because they'll suspect you're no longer here to heal, not after you went back to your family."

You swallowed hard. You knew he was right.

"I don't care," you said.

"No. You say that now, but their gaze will hurt you. And it will affect us."

"I don't want to appear. I want to be. With you."

He sighed wearily, and you suddenly felt older than he really was, as if he were carrying the weight of the world.

"There's only one solution. And it's coming too soon."

You knew what he was referring to.

"I accept!"

"It hasn't even been a year since your husband died," he pointed out pragmatically.

"And how long does it take for me to

I can finally be happy, so I can finally live for myself?

You flew into a rage, fury piercing your voice, your eyes, your whole being screaming at the injustice. Your need for truth.

"I was forced into marriage. They didn't ask my opinion. I gave it and no one cared! Now, I know what I want. You want it too. But we're going to live unhappily until our respective deaths for each other? To save face? What face do you still want to save, Karl?! Your wife cheated on you with your secretary and ran off with her. All of German high society laughs at you, so don't make me believe you really care about what they'll say if you marry me!"

He looked at you with a fever you'd never seen in his eyes. And then, without warning, he kissed you. Not gently. Not tenderly. Forcefully. Passionately. Rage.

"Fine for being rather than appearing, but I don't want any pretence. No betrayal. We talk like adults, we solve our problems like adults, we act like adults."

Your breath caught in your chest.

"Kiss me again," you finally whispered.

And he didn't need to be asked twice.

Your parents disapproved, of course. But you had once submitted to their decision, now they would submit to yours. The wedding had been simple, no frills, with few guests. After all, Karl was divorced, you didn't really have the right to be blessed before God, but you didn't care. You didn't need any God to know that you loved him. To know that what you were about to experience, the two of you, would be beautiful, tender, eternal. You didn't need anyone's blessing for this, and neither did Karl.

You had dinner at a small restaurant with your parents, then he took you back to his place. Yours.

"Mrs. Hoffmeister," he murmured, pulling you close.

You smiled as he led you to his room. Your room. When Deirde tried to come help you, he kindly sent her away, saying he was taking care of you.

"Karl," you murmured.

"I've been dreaming about this since the moment you came back," he confessed, kissing your neck.

"Be gentle. Please."

He reached out his hand, and you took it. He gently turned you around, unbuttoning your dress slowly, his fingers grazing the nape of your neck, your back. His lips ran along your spine, his hands caressing your bare skin, the curve of your buttocks, your now exposed breasts. He slid off your dress, your stockings, kissed your ankles, then slowly lowered you onto the bed.

You shivered as if it were the first time. It certainly wasn't. You'd been married for ten days. But you'd never known carnal pleasure. He knew that. And he was determined to change that.

He kissed you, his left hand spreading your thighs while his right found its way to your little bundle of nerves. He pressed gently, then more vigorously as his middle finger found your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat when his index finger joined it. He scissored you, before making circular motions. You came slowly, silently, almost like a shy, still-pure bride.

"Karl... I want you... All of you," you said, already breathless.

He didn't need to be asked twice, and his cock had already found your entrance. He entered you gently, without any roughness, moving back and forth while kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips, neck, and chest. He wasn't rough, he wasn't impatient. He was enjoying himself, but he wanted you to enjoy it too. When he felt you were about to come, he pulled out to prevent you from having an orgasm. He didn't want it to end so quickly. He made the pleasure last a long time, and when he finally made you reach seventh heaven, you thought you'd never come down from your cloud nine.

He came just a little after you and collapsed against your body, his head against your chest. You ran your fingers through his white hair. He then rolled onto your side, pulling you against him. You let yourself fall into his arms, at peace as he gently stroked your tangled hair. You sighed contentedly. It was as if a very long winter had finally ended, as if you were exactly where you were meant to be.

In the early morning, you were asleep against him. His eyes were wide open, not daring to move. He was smiling, happy. When you woke up, you felt the warmth of his chest against your body, still numb with sleep.

"Are you awake?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," you murmured, smiling.

You didn't rush. You talked for a bit, you made love again, and it wasn't until after noon that you finally emerged from your cocoon.

"I never thought I could ever be so happy," you

said

"Me neither," he replied, opening his boiled egg.

And very quickly, a sweet routine settled in between you. Just like before. You shared the same bed every night, you read together in the evenings, and you gardened together when the weather was nice. You sometimes helped him with the account book, you listened to him talk about his business, but also about literature, history, and art. There was also a lot of silence between you, but it wasn't a heavy silence. It was a gentle silence.

And then there was that night. You woke up with a start, your forehead covered in sweat.

"Are you okay?" Karl mumbled. "You kept calling Johann."

You blushed, slightly embarrassed.

"I dreamt about him. He was with some friends. They were laughing."

Karl hugged you a little tighter.

"I hope he was a little happy. Despite our unhappy marriage."

"He was. I know it. He had a thousand passions, he loved spending time with his friends."

You sighed, hoping it was true.

"You have to make peace with the past and let it go. It's us now."

You nodded, squeezing his hand in yours.

"I know. I love you, Karl."

"And I love you," he replied, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You fell back asleep against his chest, calmer, unaware that in the pit of your belly, the fruit of your love was growing. Slowly. Surely. And in spring, without a fuss, a new era would begin. The trees would have budded, the birds would have returned, the flowers you loved most would once again adorn the gardens, and a son would come to brighten the manor.

Your life would be nothing extraordinary, there would never be any great forgiveness or miraculous rebirth, but you would be together, at peace, in a home filled with simple gestures and the laughter of a child you would protect from the wounds that had afflicted you both.

And that was enough.

[au-roulette]

Why are you allowing a fandom made by a rapist misogynist (good omens) on this?

The official rules for AU Roulette state that all fandoms and types of content are allowed, so long as they are appropriately tagged. Since this is a policy not everyone is going to agree with, I am willing to take this opportunity to elaborate a little on why.

For some context, the person who runs this challenge is a relatively sex- and romance-repulsed aro/ace, who primarily reads and writes genfic, and who has several of the fandoms people signed up with this year blacklisted (Good Omens included -- since 2019). In the years since I started AU Roulette, I have allowed a lot of content that I personally object to. I am trans, but have still given assignments to people writing Harry Potter fic. I personally dislike reading about sex in most contexts, but have never excluded a fic because it has smut.

The point is, I have tried to never let my personal squicks, triggers, or other preferences dictate who gets to participate in the challenge. Because frankly, I have a lot of them. What I have been militant about is insisting that the fics that get written for AU Roulette are all properly tagged with their fandoms, as well as relevant tropes and content warnings, so that people who want to avoid reading those things are able to. At the end of the day, that's far more important to me than futilely trying to dictate what things people like.

I'm not here to debate whether or not people should write for certain fandoms or use certain tropes in their writing. That seems like a personal choice, and also something I have very little actual control over. Because at the end of the day, I also know that my choosing to include or exclude them in AU Roulette is not going to change what people write. The people who write ships I don't like are still going to write for those ships, the people whose favorite tropes squick me out are still going to like those tropes, and the people who write for fandoms I have blacklisted are still going to write fic for those fandoms. That's just how fandom works.

I guess what I'm trying to say is -- I think we could all have more productive conversations about how to make people feel safe and welcome in fandom (which, again, more often involves proper tagging than it does outright prohibition of content) if people weren't so aggressive about assuming that allowing things = endorsement. That doesn't tend to be a productive starting point, in part because it is often genuinely untrue. And even when it is, it's incredibly subjective. There's probably someone out there genuinely upset or at least bothered by something you love, too. If I tried to prohibit certain content in this challenge, it would 1) be extremely rooted in my own personal opinions about what is and isn't "problematic" and 2) also become something of a moral OCD Saw trap for me, and thus untenable to run. Especially considering AU Roulette is multi-fandom, because there's no way I could familiarize myself with the #discourse surrounding every single fandom people sign up with.

I hope that makes my stance clear. If that bothers you, there is nothing wrong with blacklisting certain tags or even unfollowing the main blog for the challenge if it helps you avoid content that you find upsetting. I am a huge fan of curating your own fandom experience to make yourself as comfortable as possible. But in the same vein, getting bogged down in conversations about what media, ships, or tropes are allowed as a part of this challenge would very quickly make it un-fun for me to run.

The world sucks right now. I'd rather put my energy towards materially helping people harmed by real, actual social forces than get mad because they showed up in a fanfic -- or even because an author, screenwriter, or other creative is affiliated with them. One of the ways I personally have chosen to do that is to run a silly little challenge on the internet every summer, to give people something fun and creative to look forward to. I encourage you to find something similar. It will probably be a lot more fulfilling.

[xadenviolct]

Just... gonna leave this here. Without any further comment.

Take it as you will.

"You think you own whatever land you land on The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim But I know every rock and tree and creature Has a life, has a spirit, has a name You think the only people who are people Are the people who look and think like you But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger You'll learn things you never knew, you never knew

[...]

Come roll in all the riches all around you And for once, never wonder what they're worth

[...]

How high does the sycamore grow? If you cut it down, then you'll never know And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon For whether we are white or copper skinned We need to sing with all the voices of the mountain We need to paint with all the colors of the wind You can own the Earth and still All you'll own is Earth until You can paint with all the colors of the wind"

--partial lyrics from "Colors of the Wind", from the Disney film, Pocahontas (released in 1995)

[sanzodaily]

day 86 | yaoi powerscaling

[lunarharp]

love's shadow will surround - 6k T orufrey fic about a witch and a silverleaf

He's left the lights of his small house on, his tiny atelier, waiting - he likes to see the glint of it on the leaves, his light reach the tree here. Give him what he can. It's always a comfort.

But when his physical senses are dulled, it brings it all back like fog, the flashes of memory. Of that day, all of them around the twisted body. He cups a few straggling branches, letting the hurt filter through him, almost as if keen to. They called him the Witch of Light in those days, eulogise his work still - but that was his masterpiece.

[crownedinmarigolds]

One of tonight's warm ups... they keep each other on a short leash. <3

[horsemeatluvr23]

the juppet !! i just realised he is jerma posing i swear that was unintentional...... i spent so long digging thru muppet concept art and looking at old puppet designs just to end up doing a rly simple drawing but. i love joehills!! i have only been watching them for like 4 years but their videos r so special to me :3

[luna-loveboop]

I've never done a poll before, so good luck

Who do y'all think Time'll handcuff to him be with for his group in the dungeon? I've seen a lot of people say he will try to control who goes with who since he's scared for their lives rn (valid)

The options are the individual boys, just go with who you think is most likely to be in his group I guess?

Anyways like I said I've never done a poll so it might be messed up or make no sense, should be fun :D

Let me know if this doesn't work. And yes I know it's not well organised.. it's ok. right?

I think that unlike when they split in the Divine Dark Reflections arc, they might try to stay in bigger groups, and I think Time would probably want to have as many close to him as possible (his group have three or four), but I uhh didn't know how to incorporate that.

It's silly, but right now I can't stop imagining a scene where they reach the central room and everyone sprints off into the groups they want before time can argue.

Anyone who goes with legend will survive physically and anyone who goes with four will survive mentally.

[canisalbus]

I say this in the best way, but your characters feel like they're from an obscure but really good piece of media, and you feel like the artist who always draws the two main characters as ghay lovers

.

[eri-pl]

So I am doing that floristry (or whatever it's called) course and it came into my mind "hey what if I made a floral composition representing Morgoth and Sauron and their dynamics" and behold

[beargregor]

Chef greg delivery just for you. it's a wonder I hadn't bearified him yet, he's my fave greg too 🔪

gays literally only want one thing (to be chopped up and eaten by a depressed man) and it's fucking disgusting

[kittylittersmoothie]

✨ Latest Fic Update: ✨

why is this chapter two rewrite DEFEATING ME.

why am i so STUCK.

am i LOSING my writing abilities.

DID I EVER HAVE ANY.

AM I GARBAGE.