— MAKE UP? MORE LIKE MAKE OUT

Words to use instead of “said” organized by emotion/intention

what people think is hard about writing: describing the joy, love, beauty, grief, loss and hope that form the richness of human experience

what is actually hard about writing: describing basic actions such as turning, leaning over, reclining, gesturing, saying something in a quiet voice, breathing, getting up from chairs, and walking across rooms

★ ADEPTUS XIAO | THE ANEMO YAKSHA ★

Birthday gift for my most adorable and amazing cutie Kay @kyaa-a​ ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

Extra:

i like him, not you!

synopsis: in which you’ve finally mustered up the courage to express a bashful confession to your best friend and six-year crush…only to accidentally dispatch your heartfelt message to the wrong person.

character/s: albedo, ayato, childe, kazuha, xiao, scaramouche, thoma

a/n: @sohyuki ilysm have a wonderful day queen <3

the first thing you do is run away.

in a way, you have always been good at that. scampering from those undivulged words and imminent encounters that instilled fear in you. it spoke to you almost like a natural instinct, left you with a bitter taste on your tongue, tormented you with a sick sensation twisting your stomach.

because of this, you ran from a lot of things. from your parents whenever they frowned upon a low grade on your report card, from a pompous asshole you later mustered the tiniest courage to shove down during fourth grade, from the unwitting attention of sunbeam-amber eyes meeting yours, and from your best friend whom you’ve practically loved for the longest time.

and you decide the last one is something you’ll finally want to quit running away from.

eight little letters and three simple words, yet for six long years they have meant more than the world to you. he has always meant more than the world to you.

so you attempt to construct it all within proper sentences — desperately trying not to jumble up your phrases while trying to provide the impression that you sure as hell hadn’t been shaking tremendously as you wrote it.

but it’s so difficult to even spare a meek glance at it. so annoying that it pesters thrumming vibrations in the depths of your stupid heart. so fucking frustrating that you don’t actually bother looking at it anymore when your fingers hover over the word ‘send’.

you’ve shut your phone off after that singular moment, and stashed it away in a nearby drawer for safekeeping. and for the entire weekend, you convince yourself that you didn’t really care anymore. six years didn’t matter because you weren’t expecting an answer. just an outlet for these emotions and a burden lifted off your weighted shoulders.

and for the first time in a long while, you acknowledge how liberating it feels to not want to run.

Y/N’S CONTACTS.

him <3 (kaedehara kazuha)

✉ 4:47 am, april 4th (mon).

[ 1 new message! ] : psst. arcade after class today? :)

ah, but who would be an idiot not to fall for him?

you’ve guessed he’s received so many incessant compliments and heartfelt confessions, that despite how frustratingly courteous he was — could never actually bother wasting his time sorting through each and every one of them.

so you figure that you’re in the clear, and he won’t have to burden himself with formulating a sharp answer.

or at least, that’s what you reassure yourself when monday comes around and he greets you with an ever-familiar and warm smile.

and is also perhaps why he pretends like nothing has actually happened…

because if that happened to be the case, he was rather good at acting pretty normal. you knew that if you’d ever received such a confession from somebody, you would have been freaking out a lot more — and depending on whether you reciprocated their emotions, either avoiding or confronting them.

but this…was a little too cold of a reaction.

and yet, at the same time, you were thankful he still kept approaching and talking to you as usual. above all, kazuha was your best friend before he was the person you wanted to be romantically involved with. you could never really bear the thought of losing him as a close confidante.

but it hurt like hell because he was always too kind, always too impossible not to love. always with the 1 am calls and his soft voice when you couldn’t fall asleep. always with the weekend home visits to his place so you could share a meal together. always with the sleepovers or out catching a midnight film. always a shoulder to lean on when the tears were too much. always, always there.

you know he’ll never love you the way you knew just exactly how to love him. and that’s okay.

but if looks and words could have honestly fooled, it almost seemed like he was ridiculously unaware that you had even confessed to him in the first place.

everything stayed the same.

and you can’t help but feel sick at the reality, because a part of you wanted to believe that kazuha was in love with you, at least once in his life and perhaps never again. in sleepless turned drowsy midnight calls, in fleeting glances inside the deserted cinema, in homemade meals and warm smiles, in drowning tears and comforting hugs. in the briefest of seconds when he realized you were always there.

but the thing about love is that it’s blinded you enough to not think about the probability that he might just like you. that he may or may not have been avoiding all other confessions because he only hoped for yours. that he may be hesitating every time you two get closer because he thinks you won’t want him back. that at 1 am while you’re whispering softly through the phone about your day, kazuha’s thinking about all the pragmatic reasons not to blurt out mid-conversation that he’s always been madly in love with you.

you know one thing for sure when you dazedly stare at your phone later that day. love has blinded you enough to not think twice about why kazuha might not be acting any differently than you had initially expected. why he’s so infuriatingly unfazed. why he should have been having a more violent reaction instead of making the same silly jokes with you.

and boy, you’re bewildered when you find two chat notifications waiting in your message box. one from kazuha, inviting you to the nearby arcade after class…except for some absurd reason, there’s no record of an embarrassingly heartfelt confession registered in your shared chat history.

the second from a boy you barely knew but always subconsciously noticed in class, sitting rather ominously in your DMs with the strangest of messages. and it’s only when you begrudgingly open your shared chat, that you clearly feel how your heart stops in one horrifying instant.

because sitting there in the most unexpected of places, lies the culmination of six long years building up to a terribly emotional confession.

but…it’s not for the boy you had hoped would receive it.

that guy in class (xiao)

✉ 11:54 pm, april 2nd (sat).

[ 1 new message! ] : who are you?

xiao wishes there was a guidebook for how to handle all probable awkward situations, in the unfortunate circumstance that he’d ever find himself impossibly lodged in the middle of one.

but there’s none that exist to date. and he thinks not even the internet can help him figure out what to respond to a sudden and random heartfelt confession sitting peacefully in his message inbox.

he hasn’t exactly done anything to be loved or wanted by anyone. and at first, your contact name barely registers anyone he recognizes in his head. so he sends the first question he thinks of as a response, and shuts his phone to close his eyes and rest.

but then sunday morning comes and it clicks. he remembers. he knows who you are. because of that, xiao finds it all absurd.

it wasn’t like he intended to stare at you. he was always prone to dozing off mid-classes, eyes instinctively sweeping across every inch of the classroom, outside the window to greet the blinding light of the morning sun, and then reluctantly retreating back inside…

only to see you. and for you to see him.

so the odd pattern repeats. everyday.

you’d think he have broken out of such a quirky habit of looking. he’d think you’d have stopped meeting his eyes every single time. but you always manage to see each other — and past that, neither of you dare make the effort to talk to one another.

it was some sort of unspoken understanding between you two, momentary peace that isn’t built on a real connection. just that he finds comfort in your eyes, while you’re left breathless at his.

but for you to confess, and oh so suddenly without any particular reason to make you like him.

so he realizes the message presently occupying his DMs (and unconsciously plaguing his thoughts) isn’t truly meant for him.

monday eagerly arrives, and he stares. more often than usual, more often than he’d want to. he wonders if you’ve noticed how you fucked up, because he’s almost certain he knows who your vulnerable confession is intended for.

and it’s late in the afternoon when you shyly pull him aside to talk about it. how embarrassed you were by your clumsy mistake, how deeply you felt apologetic for sending it to him, but most importantly of all —

“i’m really sorry, but i like someone else and not you!”

strange how your first conversation turns out like this. he’s always imagined it would begin very differently. perhaps with you pointing out the fact that he always gazes at you, him asking you in return why you always look back.

and almost on impeccable cue, you suddenly smile and tell him about all the times you recognized him because of how often your eyes met, even though you’ve never talked to each other. you’re sorry for not talking with him sooner.

but xiao thinks nothing is going to change just because you’ve verbally acknowledged each other.

he was sort of wrong. the next time you met glances, you smiled. several more times after you’ve started doing it, he starts to reciprocate with the smallest of smiles too — the kind that makes you feel like its your shared little secret.

and you’ve both changed in certain ways. you talked with each other more often, occupying vacated classrooms during breaks and making a bit more room for each other within your drastically different lives. he even starts to join you during lunch whenever kazuha was too occupied with homework, and lets you drag him along to amusement parks or anime events you presumed kazuha wasn’t too interested in.

but the craziest part about it all was that you admitted to never actually confessing to kazuha after all that’s happened.

perhaps you were left traumatized by your previous opportunity to confess to your best friend. perhaps because of a certain “someone’s” consistent jokes, you were too horrified to ever want to confess to somebody ever again. perhaps you were simply confused about the new boy weaving his way into your life.

one thing’s for sure, xiao feels strangely relieved that you decided not to send the actual message to your crush.

and maybe even a little dirty part of him hopes you’ll eventually forget about confessing to kazuha at the end of it all.

saturday boyfriend (childe)

✉ 9:06 am, april 5th (tues).

[ 1 new message! ] : so you’re the girl who likes xiao?

the thing is, childe could have never actually perceived the day when he’d get a phone call late in the evening from xiao, inquiring about what to say in response to an abrupt confession from a stranger.

his brusque and characteristically quiet best friend — had suddenly gotten some crazy chick to fall for him? with that shitty personality?

oh, the unexpected news gave childe the laughter of a lifetime. and yet, he couldn’t help but feel curious about the idea of it. what kind of interesting person would ever be attracted to someone like that guy? (respectfully, of course.)

fortunately to satiate the whirlwind of questions that night, xiao later sends him a text of your name with a message not to bother you.

and childe’s eyes go wide when he eventually puts a face to the name. you, the weird chick always absently staring over at xiao in classes?

perhaps he should’ve seen it coming. he did think it was weird how he sometimes found you glancing quietly towards his friend. but he sort of assumed you’d have liked kazuha instead — you know, your actual best friend — over some guy you’ve never even talked to in your life.

so with the right determination, he makes it his personal mission the following monday to devote his own precious time for a stakeout. because who’s to say you weren’t secretly some disgusting pervert targeting your uninhibited emotions to an innocent classmate?

childe observes you from afar the whole day. from the moment you found your seat in class that morning, watching you lock eyes with xiao mid-science discussion, routinely tagging along with kazuha for lunch, and even as you’re concentrating on a note-taking phase during the afternoon break.

you haven’t made any explicit moves towards xiao…yet. it’s a rather normal and innocuous day for you.

until afternoon comes — and near the school gates, he watches as you awkwardly tug xiao aside to talk to him briefly. childe pauses in his steps, staring at your huddled silhouettes while attempting to decipher the distinct mood of the conversation. he sees you smile at one point, and how you courteously greet each other goodbye when it’s over.

did xiao accept your feelings then?

that night, he gets your number from a mutual friend, and sends you a harmless text message the next morning. if xiao reciprocated your interest in him that day, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to eventually get to know each other during the long run.

but when he arrives in school, he’s greeted by the sight of you staring at him in surprise and asking if you could spare him a minute of his time to talk. and it’s right then that you explain and attempt to clear up the misunderstanding that transpired between you and his best friend.

it still makes childe laugh at the absurdity of it whenever he thinks about the mistaken confession, and how throughly embarrassed you must have been for unhesitatingly sending it to a complete stranger.

from that fateful day on, you two started to become close friends. and to mark that unforgettably momentous occasion for you — childe would routinely find a way to weave his presence into your saturdays, bringing flowers, chocolates, typical department-store love letters, or text you a long ass cheap excuse of a profession — to remind you of your “beautifully executed confession”. even though really, it’s just a dumb excuse to poke infuriating jokes at you.

those continuous, and admittedly humorous endeavors of his, became some part of the reason why you could never bring yourself to confess to kazuha again…or anyone else for that matter.

and you know, maybe celibacy was the way your life was always destined to be. maybe you weren’t supposed to give out your heart to other guys, because you were solely meant to receive any form of romantic gesture every saturday from a certain ginger-haired bastard. and well, maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to have in the world.

or maybe he’s accidentally caught feelings when he suddenly put more thought than he should have, into picking out a gift on a random saturday.

maybe one average saturday, he’ll unconsciously fall for your smile and the sarcastic words of gratitude you’ll throw back at him.

and maybe, just maybe…on some imminent saturday, he won’t know what more to give other than his real and heartfelt confession to you.

homework hotline (albedo)

✉ 6:15 am, april 7th (thurs).

[ 1 new message! ] : hey, coming over to yours later for that project due next week.

you’ve had close friends come over to your apartment often, but none have ever made you feel as utterly relieved compared to when albedo visits.

it’s always been challenging for you to keep track of homework loads, or stay motivated while reviewing for an upcoming test due the end of the week. and albedo’s presence magically helps you to be productive with exactly all of that.

perhaps you feel more motivated, or somewhat pressured to accomplish tasks in the company of a person who’s actually mastered diligence. whatever it is, for the past few years it’s given you higher grades than you’ve ever expected to receive pitted against your previous academic years.

and ever since then, you’ve made it a point to always partner up together during projects, which he easily obliges to. plus, you’ve succeeded as a team in plenty of tasks for so long, that albedo naturally feels more inclined to work with you.

he also can’t deny that the company is indeed familiar and comfortable, therefore making it the most preferable alternative.

besides, he’s made himself at home in your apartment for a handful of years now, that it’s almost as if he practically lives together with you. an extra toothbrush left in your bathroom cupboard, a similar set of pillows and blankets stashed inside your closet, albedo’s hoodies and clothes folded in a neat pile within a separate drawer — his presence in your home was always just there.

which is why later that evening, as you and albedo are busy preparing dinner before you cram an overnight agenda of finishing several projects in advance, he casually suggests the idea of moving in together instead.

and it’s frankly not that terrible of an idea. the rent would be split between you both so you’d save much more, there would be no more trouble commuting to each other’s places to finish school-related tasks, house chores would be divided amongst the two of you, and albedo could occupy the apartment while you were out on weekly visits or sleepovers in kazuha’s.

so the deed is done. by the following week, you’ve already prepared other necessary accommodations, and albedo comes over with a small duffel bag (since most of his stuff was already left at your place) and a brand new key for your shared abode.

neither of you can really feel like something has changed. if anything, it seems more natural to have him permanently living with you because it makes things more convenient.

and ever since then, you’ve been constantly seen together a lot more frequently inside the university premises (causing some familiar faces grow envious at the sight of it), but the both of you preferred to keep your current home status as a personal secret so as not to fuel too many strange rumors.

you do homework with each other a lot more often. you’re also left in awe by the occasional detailed doodles scrawled across the corner pages of his lecture notebook. one late evening, you were wondering if it was the sleep taking over you, or he actually drew a little portrait of you on one of the tightly folded pages.

everyday, you’d take turns doing certain things during your well-deserved breaks. albedo, on one hand, teaches you how to draw and paint. you’re not exactly the best at artistic endeavors, but he was always patient and supportive, going as far as to provide specific remarks on the things you needed improvement with.

on other days, you’d convince him to sit down with you to binge food while watching your favorite films. he’d initially oblige to appease your kindness and hadn’t realized it at first — but at some later point, he ended up loving all the same movies as you did.

it’s slow but anticipated, the way he falls in love with you. perhaps a part of him has always seen this ending coming — recognized the dangerous path he was treading, and yet took it without any complaint.

even though he saw through your heart and how you wanted someone else. even as he witnessed the romantic gifts you carried back home with a giddy smile. even while he listens to you upsettingly vent about the most impertinent guy who keeps making his way back into your life.

because maybe deep down, he’s always hoped to love someone like this. the sound of your laughter filling his ears while making dinner. films on television illuminating your face in the darkness. yawns you stifle when it’s midnight and you’re almost finished with homework. fluttering eyes in the morning. enchanting smiles quirking across your lips. napping soundly on the study desk even though you kindly insisted on waiting up for him before you both slept. how it feels to talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

it’s natural and innate. foreign yet so familiar. a breath of fresh air. and yet, the feeling of home lingers across his fingertips.

a written, unchangeable, and hopeless destiny for albedo to always fall without constraint. and the saddest truth is — he wouldn’t have wanted this love for any other way.

BLOCKED — 4th grader asshole (scaramouche)

✉ 2:35 pm, april 9th (sat).

[ 1 new message! ] : you’re paying for the next meal dumbass.

scaramouche to you was a lot of things. perhaps the first and most notable one of them all was that he was an impressively pompous asshole.

and you suppose he’s always been like that. the same bitchy bully you’ve regretfully crossed paths with during the fourth grade.

the strangest part is, you’ve never actually done anything to piss the boy off. or at least, none you could still vividly remember. but you were certain that you weren’t too shitty as a kid, and your first interaction with scaramouche wasn’t even close to offensive.

it happened on the elementary playground, when you first caught sight of the little boy eagerly chasing after his friends, before suddenly tripping over a rock and diving straight into the ground. you remember the degrading echoes of his friends’ laughter, how you worriedly walked over to him and asked if he was okay. how you stretched your hand out to the kid on the ground, and how he stared at you with an unreadable gaze. and before you even knew it, past that singular moment, every single day of 4th grade became absolute war.

could anyone blame you for simply being courteous? he had terribly shitty friends and you only wanted to help…which yes, unexpectedly backfired with irreparable consequences. how were you to know in that second that something horrible would happen?

maybe you should never have approached scaramouche that day. or maybe you also would’ve regretted never helping him out.

either way, the thought has always plagued the back of your mind, and you wonder if your life would have changed so drastically had you made a different choice in that playground.

even until today, he still somehow manages to wander into your life oh so effortlessly. in the hallways, ramming into your shoulder without sparing a mere glance or an apology. in the middle of class, absently toying with your free locks of hair while you grumble several coherent insults towards the boy. during gratitude day, him stealing your white blouse scribbled in your friends’ messages and writing some of his own unwanted words on it. in the art room, cornering you with that devilish smirk and a finger against his lips as he warns you not to make a single sound, while the hall monitor angrily screeches his name around the deserted corridors…most likely intending to throw him in detention.

even at the comfort of your own home — he’s the neighbor who (unfortunately) moved around the same time as you did, except he lives in the spacious flat two floors below.

and it infuriates you to the ends of the earth. how he’s always been there. how he somehow still is.

when you aced a major test, he was there with an irritated scoff, reminding you not to get too full of yourself. when he saw how you started to fall for kazuha in the early years, he was there to poke fun of you for wanting a “nice” guy, because nice was just an equivalent for boring. when he saw you standing outside your house beneath the rain — soaked, shivering, and frustrated after a big argument with your parents — he shoved an umbrella in your face and told you how you looked absolutely horrendous.

he’s seen too much of you, both in your happiest and at your worst. not even others like kazuha or close family friends have witnessed or known such dark parts of you. why did it have to be him? this boy who has been constantly tormenting you for several years of your life?

even as you surround yourself with better people, you still think about the insolent asshole roaming around the hallways. still overly conscious about his presence whenever you’re in the same room (more than you would have wanted). still thinking about his umbrella in the rain.

and perhaps that was the most perplexing thing which unknowingly drew you to scaramouche. that you never really knew which side of him you were going to get everyday.

one moment he’s explicitly arguing with you in the middle of plain daylight (which unfortunately, later lands you both in detention) — then all of a sudden, you’re riding a bus at midnight to your apartment alone, and he’s the person coincidentally seated next to you, flinching at your snot as he hurriedly juts a handkerchief towards your teary face.

he’s always headed towards the apartment at the same time you exit the bus coming from the university. and although you two constantly bicker and fight along the way back to the building, he was there to accompany you on the lonely walk home.

he pokes fun about your painfully obvious crush on your best friend, but tones it down on the sunday he sees you with puffy red eyes after confessing and attempting to convince yourself you didn’t care if he didn’t want you back.

even more so when you’re unwillingly forced to share a table with him inside a popular and crowded restaurant during lunch — him insulting you for the way you scarf down your food like a pig, and yet his hand subconsciously reaches out to wipe the sauce smudge on the corner of your lips before casually licking it off his thumb.

you’re staring at him in confusion, grateful yet weirded out at the…generous gesture. but all he does is scoff disapprovingly at your face, because there’s no masking the strange red flush that creeps up your cheeks from the uncharacteristic tension and his sudden physical contact.

and for the first time in the years you’ve known him, you’ve only made yourself presently aware of the reddish tint that sets the tips of his ears aglow.

what you’ll never actually realize is how much effort he’s been constantly making to conceal that singularly instinctive (and frankly, repulsive) action that reminds him of how vulnerable you’ve always made him feel — ever since you gave him your hand back in fourth grade.

it would’ve helped him a lot more if he had never noticed you prior to that. how nice you were to the other kids and teachers. how adorable you looked in those neat pigtails. how you had unknowingly charmed every single person into the palm of your hand, and how you were still so infuriatingly enchanting and oblivious at the effect you had on others…even until today.

he hated feeling vulnerable more than anything else in the world, knowing that he was also one of those idiots helplessly wrapped around your finger. just that unlike the rest of them, he’d never actually stoop down so low with his pride to say it out loud.

and he hated that everyday, you were always making it all the more easier for him to admit it to himself. to scream out to the world that scaramouche hated how much he has somehow, foolishly, and quite impossibly, always been in love with you.

organization hottie (ayato)

✉ 5:23 pm, april 9th (sat).

[ 1 new message! ] : see you on monday.

you tried not to squeal too loudly when you suddenly received the text message. but albedo could see the way you tightly pressed your lips together to stifle back a wide whooping grin.

and why wouldn’t you be thrilled? you had just gotten accepted into your university’s official charity organization! it was certainly the perfect opportunity to expose yourself to more learning experiences and activities past the fields of academics.

obviously, it wasn’t like a super attractive person was currently heading the committee and had just sent you a text saying you got accepted a couple minutes ago…

or…okay.

so maybe there’s a bit of an influence. i mean, was it that bad to find a guy who devotes his time for others insanely charming?

of course, it wasn’t anything serious like the way you felt for kazuha. it was more of a happy crush, if you would call it — someone you have a slight romantic admiration for, but don’t exactly harbor any deep feelings towards them.

admittedly, you had naturally considered the prospect of finding yourself with nothing to do over the course of summer, and you figured applying in the organization wouldn’t do much harm for you anyway…even though you had some reservations about the final decision to sign up for it.

and then, you heard about how ayato was recently elected to oversee the committee activities for the following year. thus, the rest was simply history.

the next week, you’re swamped with exchanging introductions among several new members and almost immediately busying yourself with the upcoming project meeting.

oddly enough, you’ve been assigned in the same team as ayato for your first project. and although you began on a rather rough and awkward start together, he guides you through the transitioning process until you’ve learned at least enough things to handle some separate tasks independently.

you’ve always assumed ayato was an overly formal and aloof person to approach compared to the others — however on the contrary, you were pleasantly surprised to discover that he also beheld a mischievous side conflicting his own outer demeanor.

there were days when even he would occasionally reach out to talk about things past organization-related matters. simple questions such as asking about some input on a certain movie, if you had completed this previously given assignment, or merely checking how your day was going.

and maybe it was just strange for you to suddenly realize how human ayato feels.

sure, he was often distant and burdened under plenty of responsibilities. you’ve heard your fair share of rumors and how he was always seemingly placed on a pedestal above all — perhaps you’d almost forgotten that at the end of the day, he was still just trying to get his own shit together, like everybody else.

he was precisely nothing short of a normal guy. the kind who pokes good fun around and plays chess on breaks. the kind who still asks if you want to accompany him to springtime festivals. the kind who smiles at you when he sees you standing across the hallway. the kind who elbows you subtly when you’ve dozed out in the middle of somebody’s monologue. the kind who feels like you‘re somehow beginning to know him better than you know yourself.

and ayato thinks you’re the kind he wondered what would happen had he met you all those years ago instead. if he had an opportunity to know you better before, than he did today. if he would have liked you any sooner, or always just a little later.

maybe it’s true that ayato could work hard to be a lot of things. after all, he couldn’t have become half the man he was today if he hadn’t convinced himself to put in more effort than anybody else.

but maybe there were also some things ayato could just never bring himself to have, no matter how hard he tried. maybe there were always meant to be some moments and people he wasn’t possibly cut out for.

and maybe he could try all he wanted, but he could never really work hard enough to ever make you notice his own lonesome heart — always patiently waiting.

BONUS CONTACT ! — a short side story.

radio boy (thoma)

✉ 3:07 pm, april 5th (tues).

[ 1 new message! ] : hey y/n! do you mind stopping by the broadcasting room for a bit?

although thoma has always been well-favored among people of all ages, he feels that there’s nobody else he’d rather spend his company with than you.

it’s not that he’s wanted you for ill intentions or in a romantic perspective. just that you were his favorite person who was so invariably easy to talk to.

you first met thoma inside the broadcasting room, randomly paying a visit out of curiosity to ask the title of a particular song played during the morning break. and then the following day, you came back to ask on behalf of your friend about another song.

before either of you knew it, you were making regular yet brief appearances to the little recording area — not just to ask about songs, but also to initiate small talk about how the other’s day was going. it was later on you discovered that thoma was a student from another class in the same university who volunteered to work for the campus radio station.

on most days, you’d bring him pastries or coffee to satiate his empty stomach, since thoma preferred to spend most of his free time in the broadcasting room. sometimes, he’d also be generous enough to let you borrow some of his cd’s or flash-drives of music playlists that he thinks would suit your taste.

during periods when you were too busy to pay a visit, you’d send him a quick text apologizing in advance. but not even five minutes later, a familiar song would suddenly blast through the classroom speakers in response, and you couldn’t do anything to hide the contented smile from quirking across your face.

when thoma begins to fall in love with you, he finds himself secretly dedicating certain songs to you on the campus radio — either playing tracks he knows you love, or music that he thinks reminds him of you.

of course, you’re not really sure when the boy behind the radio started liking somebody. just that all of a sudden on an average weekday, you belatedly noticed how his choice of tunes changed, and never became the same as before.

and every time you’ll teasingly question thoma about his arbitrary selection of songs in hopes of prying him for a name drop, all he does is shrug with a quiet smile — saying that you, out of all people, should know her all too well.

lights, camera, action!

premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)

includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.

next episode. unavailable.

note. i surprised myself with how much plot this actually has.

零 ; you, the typecasted “passerby a”

the path to stardom is an arduous journey, but you've already abandoned your dreams not even halfway down the road.

you are far from the fresh newbie you once were. maybe you hoped to be famous at some point, your name sung in ardent praises and joint with stellar performances, but you've never received major roles that strayed from “classmate b” or “the protagonist's best friend” who only ever appears to give advice.

the closest you've been to getting a main character role is being part of the second pairing of a cheesy romance drama that never became a hit, a series with a generic plot and a bland cast of no name actors.

but you can't deny the spark of hope lighting your heart when you receive word of an audition for an upcoming drama adaptation of a well-loved webtoon series, a series you are an avid fan of. it's a murder mystery following a genius detective striving to solve a serial killings cold case, with snippets of romance and the occasional comedy, grim as the premise may be.

once the drama adaptation was confirmed, it quickly became a hot topic; fans are anticipating the casting and filming crew, expecting nothing less of perfection to honor the brilliant source material. by all accounts, it's big news, and snagging even a minor role would definitely earn you more recognition.

if you're chosen to act as the victim in the first murder, you would already be beyond satisfied—being part of such a masterpiece is enough to make you overjoyed. you don't have too high hopes but there's no harm in trying for the audition, right?

yes. no harm at all.

that's if you don't count the brain damage you suffered when your head slammed against the wall from complete shock as you received an e-mail from the staff confirming your admittance to the project.

as the protagonist's love interest, no less—a journalist investigating the serial murders to enact revenge on their younger brother's stead, the third victim in the killings.

一 ; xiao, the celebrity crush

acting practice is generally considered a casual affair in every project you've taken on, yet you couldn't help but spend hours trying to make yourself look presentable (and avoid looking like a beggar compared to your shining idols when you stand side by side). you may be a tad bit overdressed, but you'd hate to make a fool out of yourself on day one.

except that is exactly what you do. because you're a walking disaster.

in your defense, it's not even your fault! the moment you step foot in the venue, you're ushered by the staff to a row of waiting rooms... without any nameplates attached by the doors and no indication of where you're supposed to go. left with no other choice, you mentally count eeny meeny miny moe and surge forward for the chosen room.

you can't tell if you're tremendously lucky or the most unfortunate person on earth, but you come face to face with a person you never thought you'd see in the flesh.

the thing is, the staff never informed you of your future colleagues. the casting is a well-kept secret, even from the actors themselves, to prevent information leaks to the media before the official announcement.

you really wish you had time to prepare yourself before you had to meet xiao, though.

he's lounging by the sofa, curls of dark hair sprawled on the cushions. his face is obscured by an eye mask, fashioned in a cute design you wouldn't expect him to take an interest in at all. if you took a picture of him right now and printed them as merchandise, you're sure they'll sell like hotcakes, but a selfish part of you wants to keep this sight to yourself.

yes, because... because you've been crushing on him since forever!

you've seen his growth as an actor as far back as five years ago, when he only just started his career! he made the perfect mysterious pretty boy male lead, and the romance film he starred in was such a good classic! but he didn't get typecasted, no no. he went beyond his pretty boy persona to work in other productions, where he acted as the crazed antagonist in a horror movie. that, too, eventually became a classic film for any horror movie fan. his murderous glare is just too damn scary!

he's excellent in action-packed movies as well, there's never a need for stunt doubles with him. you've seen his behind the scene clips, and they're just awesome. he doesn't speak much in interviews, his replies clipped and hardly substantial, but you try to catch each piece of precious footage.

oh fuck i shouldn't be here. you snap back to your senses and reach for the doorknob, but the creaking sound of the door prompts xiao to twitch.

a pale hand drags down the eye mask to his chin, and his dazed golden eyes pin you in place.

“...who are you?”

it's a simple question, but it's like you're trying to prove your innocence to court. you begin to ramble, introducing yourself in a series of stutters, and explaining how you got to his room. you insist you aren't there to peep on him and it was a complete accident.

“...so you entered my room by mistake,” xiao summarizes your ten paragraphs-worth of explanation into a single concise sentence. he doesn't look angry, but doesn't look pleased by your presence either. “it's fine. i could guess the staff was too busy to show you your room.” he sits up properly, fixing his hair messy from his nap. “you're the journalist, right? i look forward to working with you.”

rather than a job, filming feels more like a reward. you get to see xiao everyday, get to talk to xiao even if it's just you commenting on the weather, get to eat with him in lunch breaks (you're seven seats away from him but that counts, right?) and get to act alongside him-

and xiao is the second male lead. you get to act romantic scenes with him. you get to act lovey-dovey with xiao in a police uniform because he's a policeman in this show.

each brush of your hands together sends your heart racing in a speed too fast to be healthy, but as an actor, you're expected to keep your composure and deliver your lines properly.

(the makeup artist is always wondering why you look so red on screen when she swears she didn't put much blush on you, though.)

“don't you need to ask something of me?”

you blink innocently as you peel off the heavy costume, the last scene for the day finally wrapped up. xiao must be feeling hot too because he's also wearing a huge coat in the middle of summer—his face is beet red.

“ask you for something...?” your cheeks burn bright. “oh no, was i too obvious?”

xiao awkwardly looks away. “you could say that.”

how mortifying! you fan your face, hoping your makeup isn't too melted. you already feel like an idiot, no need to look like one.

but xiao already thinks you're stupid. no turning back now.

“o... okay... since the cat is out of the bag, then...” you pull out a pen and a piece of paper, holding it out to him. “please give me your autograph!”

“...what.”

“i've been your fan for the last five years! i don't know who ratted me out, actually i'm about 87% sure it's childe, but since you know-”

“wait- what? five years?”

“.........if that's not what you're talking about, then what is?”

“no, i thought you wanted me to ask me ou-”

he seals his lips at the most crucial moment, horrified at himself. “sorry. i'll ask you another time.”

... and then he walks away. just like that.

“xiao, what about my autograph?!”

“forget it!”

“why all of a sudden?!”

二 ; childe, the scandal magnet

notorious for the massive number of scandals under his belt, it's a surprise to find ajax (with a stage name of childe) in the set of this major production. you're advised by your manager to steer clear of him and avoid unnecessary contact to prevent sullying your reputation, but you can't deny his acting prowess—he shines on the stage, a performance you can't tear your eyes away from.

he's incredibly versatile, capable of taking on any role and absorbing the character to make it come to life, almost as if he is its incarnation.

it starts as a simple game before actual practice, each actor asked to draw lots from pieces of paper scribbled with different roles, and given an accompanying script to base off of.

everyone laughs when childe, ironically enough, draws the “womanizer who cheats on his lover.”

unfortunately, you couldn't laugh along with them because you picked the “lover” role. your incredible (read: atrocious) luck astounds you.

it goes just about as well as everyone expects it. childe, seemingly in his element, plays the part of a perfect scumbag. it's easy to hate him like this, all flamboyant gestures and empty promises of “you are my one and only.” his performance inspires you to try harder, and so you raise your voice, your passionate screams of indignance almost sounding heart-felt, like you truly are experiencing a severe betrayal.

when childe sweeps you into his arms, whispering platitudes dripping with honey, you're nearly fooled into forgiving him.

it's hard to get yourself out of the role when the director ends the scene, satisfied with the act. childe's expression returns to its usual lazy grin, a far cry from the smug smirk prior, and he pats your head to wake you up. “nice work. i really felt like i was getting scolded by an angry girlfriend.”

dazzled by his brilliance, you barely have enough coherence to return the compliment.

your awe doubles when he performs his next act.

much to xiao's horror, he picks the “dying younger brother” role, a direct accompaniment to childe's “grieving older brother.” they make an... interesting pair, but they're also professionals, and the scene they perform almost makes you weep real tears.

xiao lays limp on the floor like a lifeless doll, and childe cradles him to his chest, delivering his lines with sobs and cries that sound too real to be an act. his heart-wrenching wails bounce from the walls, going straight to strike your heart. his voice cuts through the air, demanding your attention, as if telling you to keep your eyes on him and to never look away.

it's nothing like the sleazebag character he was playing twenty minutes ago, and you have to remind yourself your scripts are only given once you've drawn lots; he had a maximum of five minutes to read through it, process the information, decide how to deliver his lines, and visualize himself performing it in the best way possible.

like this, he doesn't look at all like the scandalous man everyone makes him out to be. he's just an earnest man who's good at pretending to be someone else.

it's terrifying to think about. did he ever act like his true self when the cameras stopped rolling, then? was he just playing the part of a “good co-worker” when he was talking to you earlier? was the whole “scandalous womanizer” image something he set up for himself? a reputation he deliberately made to attract the media's attention? it isn't unusual for actors to cause drama as a publicity stunt, after all.

no, that doesn't make sense. no matter how desperate, nobody would like bad rumors circulating about them. as much as your name is spread around, it also goes hand in hand with distasteful gossip. childe is plenty famous, even before the scandals began popping up, so he never really needed them and they would only further ruin his image...

...on the contrary, if there's anyone getting famous from those scandals, it's...

...the girls he supposedly hooked up with?

rather than making those scandals for fame, doesn't it make more sense if those girls fabricated stories and took advantage of his reputation?

it's no secret that meddlesome paparazzi and hardcore fans obsessively pry into celebrities' personal lives. if they sniff a hint of dating scandals, they don't stop digging. furthermore, once the media releases information to the public, people will take it as fact. in actuality, it doesn't matter what's true or not; what the public wants to believe becomes the “truth.”

if the people deemed it plausible, if they thought “childe would definitely do something like this, so of course if the girl says they hooked up in the dressing room, they did”...

...even if childe denied those claims, nobody would believe him. not even you. you didn't think about it until now. in fact, at the very beginning, you already had assumptions about him, devouring the media's lies.

childe laughs when you apologize to him. it was certainly a shock when you suddenly knocked on his door, then the instance he opened it, you began to bow deeply, nearly slamming your forehead to his chest.

“i'm used to it, don't worry.” he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “you were so stiff around me, it was pretty obvious what you thought of me. but you didn't have to apologize.”

“no, i do! i was being disrespectful!” you insist, taking him by surprise when you grab the lapels of his jacket. “you're nothing like what they say! i'm sure you've been through a lot just because everyone keeps saying whatever they want, without thinking of your feelings... and everyone laughed that one time we played the acting game... i... i can't take back the time i've spent being suspicious of you, but i want to change that!” you stare directly at his widened eyes, determined. “i want to know you better, ajax!”

the use of his real name stuns him and for a moment, all he can do is gape at you.

then he narrows his eyes, his lips shaping to a firm line, and he tugs you inside the room.

a yelp unwittingly escapes your mouth when you're pressed against the door, his arms caging either side of you. his expression is unfamiliar now, unlike anything you've ever seen before; uncharacteristically stern, harsher around the edges, spiteful gaze boring holes into your skull.

“you want to know me better... some pretty words you just said. what do you actually want?”

your breath hitches when his hand caresses your cheek, but the striking glare he's giving you makes you think he wants to sink his nails deep into your skin instead.

“this isn't the first time someone tried to approach me, you know. what, you want to be friends with me? you're going to ask if i can invite you to my house? then you're going to tell people how i took advantage of you while you were sleeping?”

“what- no! of course not!” you yell, face heating up just by the thought of it. “nevermind lying to the media, i don't have the guts to sleep over a guy's house i barely even know!”

his expression falls to a deadpan. “oh. my bad. you're quite pure, aren't you. of course you wouldn't.”

“that's what makes you believe me?!”

the arms caging you falls to his sides as he walks away, leaving you dumfounded. “right, right, sorry for scaring you. can't you let me off easy? it's pretty hard to trust someone when you're in my position. if i treat you to dinner, will you forgive me?”

“i... i came here with good intentions... now i feel as though i was harassed...”

his usual smile falls on his face, like he's a completely different person from the man who trapped you just seconds prior. “what do you think about seafood? i'll let you eat as many crabs as you like. i really am sorry, promise. if you were saying the truth earlier, then i'd be glad to know you better too, [name].”

you give him a look. “...if they saw us entering a restaurant together, wouldn't that attract rumors?”

“hm? is everyone so narrow-minded they think anyone who eats together is in an illicit relationship?”

the answer is no, so you eat as much crabs and shrimp as you want to your heart's content. you're getting your food's worth for that fright he caused earlier. childe isn't complaining anyway, only impressed with how much dishes you're practically inhaling.

in any case, it isn't a date. there is no ambience or heart-pounding romance of any sort. not when you're overtly taking advantage of his money and childe's taking ugly pictures of you mid-bite.

but then, of course, the media takes note of it; the topic of your outing is brought up at an interview, to which you fret and panic because you were never popular enough to be interviewed before, and they're asking if you're fucking childe, of all things-

“what are you talking about?” childe pops up behind you, unhelpfully wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if he wants to add fuel to the fire. he chuckles, tilting your chin to lean closer to his face. “i'm just pursuing [name]. nothing's happened yet. unless [name] wants to...”

you take it back. he's definitely at fault for having this many scandals.

三 ; albedo, the male lead

the first day of rehearsals, the protagonist of the drama isn't even there.

to your astonishment, nobody complains about it. twenty minutes into practice (most scenes skipped due to the protagonist's absence), the director gets a call and excuses himself outside. less than a minute after, he informs everyone the star of the show won't be able to make it.

the actors trade unsure looks, wondering what the hell is going on, but the rest of the staff remain unfazed. the director notices and explains, “it's albedo. his busy schedule can't be helped. his manager called me to let me know his flight got delayed.”

and then it makes much more sense.

albedo is well-renowned in the film industry, an extraordinary talent who first came into showbiz three years ago. it's not at all a long time, but it's long enough for him to receive countless awards and bountiful movie offers—he was just born for the stage. if anything, this drama is lucky to have him in it, not the other way around. a late arrival for a rehearsal is nothing. he could probably disappear for two months without telling anybody and when he comes back, the director would beg him to act for the drama for twice the pay. (an exaggeration, but you get the point.)

and... you're expected to partner with him? you? a speck of dust compared to the sun that is albedo? you have to match his brilliance and not look like a turd beside him on screen? you have to be equals with him and- and you actually get to- you get to hold hands with him, kiss him, and- those couple stuff? everything? his fans would murder you if your mother doesn't kill you first! you know she likes his movies a lot!

the fourth day of rehearsals, he finally comes to the set. not with an air of arrogance or excessive pride. he just exudes confidence, strutting to the room in an elegant poise you can't hope to replicate. he gives his sincere apologies for the inconvenience to the staff, all polite bows and offer of recompense.

“but there's no reason to worry,” he declares, gaze steely. “i won't make any more trouble for you.”

he refuses when the director suggests taking it slowly and instead goes straight to practice. but it doesn't look like he needs any of it at all.

as if he's been here all along, he falls into place with the other actors, not a single awkward pause in their scripted conversations and everything smooth sailing. he delivers a flawless performance, like the cameras are already rolling and he's practiced for tens of thousands of times already, not read through a portion of the script in the car ride towards the set.

there is one thing he's struggling with, however.

“you're too stiff with each other,” the acting coach comments, frowning slightly at the two of you and cutting the scene short. “rather than bickering, it's like you're actually arguing, and that's not what we want to portray.”

you blink, exchanging a look with albedo, and look down at his collar you're still gripping.

maybe you do look like you're trying to strangle him instead of pulling him closer to your face for some good ol' sexual tension.

originally, the characters you play didn't get along well in the beginning of the webtoon; the genius detective didn't like to rely on others, conceited enough to believe he can solve the case on his own, hence seeing the journalist as a hindrance since they kept pestering him to let them help him, and he help them in turn so they could work together. the detective didn't deem them “useful” for the investigation, and it was only much later that he (begrudgingly) admitted the journalist can be helpful... sometimes. thus officially starting their partnership for the investigation, and later on, partners in the romantic sense.

there were quite a lot of bickering scenes before the actual romance commenced, and you're struggling with finding a delicate balance to that—where exactly do you draw the line between petty squabbles and severe disputes? how do you show the chemistry between these two characters while butting heads in every instance? the enemies to lovers trope is harder to act than it seems.

“try to get familiar,” the director suggests. “you're stiff because you don't know each other well. you're too shy to touch or get closer. why not leave early and go on a little date by yourselves to fix that?”

“is that really okay...?” you say, unsure. besides being hesitant to leave earlier than the rest, you're also nervous to be alone with your co-actor.

“if he says it's fine, then it's fine.” albedo shrugs, starting to walk towards the dressing room and tugging you along. “but if we're going outside, we should wear disguises. it's also fine if we borrow some of your clothes, right?”

“of course, of course~” the director indulges him. “have fun, kiddos.”

as it turns out, albedo is a master of disguise. he doesn't even have a wig or anything but you almost can't recognize him clad in casual attire. he also almost looks like a stylist while figuring out what outfit to give you, and you're left in awe when you look at yourself in the mirror wearing clothes you wouldn't normally pick out yourself but they look really, really good on you, and they do a good job changing your image too. not that you think anybody would recognize you anyway, unpopular and all.

“where do you want to go?” you trail after him on the way to the bus station, always a step or two behind. albedo makes a humming noise, subtly slowing his pace to match your strides.

“why not just go wherever our feet takes us?” he pipes up. “as long as it's not teeming with people, of course.”

so with zero preparation at all, you do just that. you stop by a bookstore, with you showing him around the comics section and him adamantly insisting the plain hard-cover literature he's picking up is a thrilling epic that will definitely pique your interest, [name] stop yawning-

you pay a visit to the arcade, where you find albedo is clumsy with his feet and can't play dance dance revolution to save his life, but also unnecessarily adept with claw machines because he has a little sister who loves getting stuffed toys. you compete over who gets the most points in the basketball game to decide who pays for dinner, end up in a tie, and move on to a zombie shooting game. you win by a narrow margin and albedo tells you so, but you point a finger at the results and tell him to cough up the cash. then you play around in the photo booth using the craziest filters, and you take the liberty of pasting stickers everywhere.

dinner is a simple affair. albedo looks ready to go to some michelin star establishment but you introduce him to a sushi restaurant that's relatively cheap. he's impressed by the way you swipe at the conveyor belt so quickly. okay, so you may look like an utter glutton right now, but it's fine. not the first time you embarrassed yourself in front of a co-actor.

lastly, you stop by an ice cream shop to get gelato. your appetite is “awe-inspiring,” as albedo put it, but you argue there's always room for dessert.

“will this actually help us, though...?” you sigh, eating a spoonful of gelato. “i don't understand the difference between bickering and arguing.”

“we've done it the whole day,” albedo reminds you, using a tissue to clean the residue of cream on your cheek. “we'll do just fine.”

you stare at him in disbelief. “...is this also one of your habits from taking care of your sister?”

“ah. you could say that.”

just as albedo said, filming goes a lot more smoothly. the playful air is a huge improvement compared to last time when they said you looked ready to beat him to submission. the romantic tidbits are coming along well, too, spun between action-packed scenes where you're pressed against albedo in a slim locker to hide from the murderer lurking nearby or sweet slice of life moments outside of the investigation.

at last, the confession scene is upon you. just a while back, the two main characters got into a full-blown argument; the detective was irritated by the lack of progress in the investigation, and deduced his feelings were distracting him. he decided to keep the journalist at arm's length, never allowing them to go close. of course, they didn't react well to this, and so they pester him again, but the argument became heated and it eventually peaked to “you're an inconvenience to me!” which led them to separate ways.

the journalist, desperate to solve the case on their own, approached people who seemed to be in the know. they were nearly pulled into bed by an attractive yet suspicious man, who's genuinely interested in the journalist romantically and used intel on their younger brother's murder as leverage, but they get interrupted by the detective pounding on the door.

he dragged the journalist out, thoroughly upset at the notion of selling themself, but they deny the accusations and claim they were tricked.

the argument stretched longer, the both of them airing out everything they dislike about the other, but the detective accidentally slipped and confessed his real feelings. the journalist, who never thought of him that way, was frozen on the spot.

it's a long scene requiring much preparation. aside from the amount of lines you have to memorize, there's also a hotel suite you have to borrow for the shoot, the cameras they need to set for the “dragging” scene that has a lot of movement, the really awkward half-bedroom scene you have to act with your co-actor, and the fact that you have to take the confession scene before the sun completely set.

it's truly a busy day. anxiety plagued you the moment you came out of the makeup room, knowing what comes next.

but it's a job, and one especially you couldn't afford to slack on. the kind-of-but-not-really-bedroom scene goes without a hitch, but albedo interrupts you a tad bit too early; the top of your shirt is barely unbuttoned but he's already storming in, ripping you out of the other man's grasp.

the director doesn't chide him for it however, and he drags you out of the hotel as planned. you're a bit frazzled by the suddenness of it all, clothes still rumpled, but it adds on to your acting and your stuttering questions make the scene look more natural.

albedo's fury seeing you in such a disheveled state seems almost genuine, too.

“why are you acting like this?!” you pull your wrist away in an effort to make him let go, as described in the script, but albedo refuses to. an improvisation, perhaps? but now of all times...? “you didn't care about me before! are you trying to be nice now? didn't you say you were sick of putting up with me? you hated me for being stupid, right? guess what, then! i was stupid enough to get almost taken advantage of! if you're just going to lecture me, let go. i don't want to hear any of it. i already know how much of a fool i am.”

you're supposed to back away now, but he doesn't let you do that either. for one step backward, he takes two forward, nose nearly brushing with yours in the close proximity. your face heats up in a combination of confusion and embarrassment, your ears barely registering his lines.

“...never listen to me. you always go off on your own and i still think you're a reckless idiot. you're noisy and brash and you annoy me to no end,” he says in one breath, staring deeply into your eyes. “but seeing you with someone else annoys me even more. to the point i'd abandon everything just to get you back.”

“w...” your throat is incredibly dry. “why would you...”

“whether i like it or not, you've become important to me. i love your stupid laugh and your stupid smile. i love the way you look at me, and i don't want you to look at anyone else. you drive me crazy when you put yourself in danger because i don't want to lose you. i want you so badly that i want you to only think about me, spend time only with me, only love me. i-”

you're fairly certain this is nowhere near his lines in the script.

“i love you so much that it scares me.” his voice trembles as his hand lifts to cup your face, something that finally bears semblance to the original scene. “it was wrong of me to say those horrible things. not just last time. i've been terrible to you, and no amount of apologies can make up for it. but i ask only one more chance.”

his finger hovers at the corner of your lip.

“[name], won't you only look at me?”

you gape like a fish out of water, unable to reply. you're trying to remember your lines, flipping through the mental script in your head, but the director's “cut!” pulls you back to reality.

albedo blinks, getting himself out of the role, and he lets go of you reluctantly, the heat of his fingers lingering on your skin.

“the scene was good, but you said the wrong name.” the director laughs. “it's alright. we can still shoot where we last left off. return to your positions.”

as told, you go back to your previous position. you give a furtive glance at albedo, whose cheeks flare in humiliation. he's probably never done such a rookie mistake before. there's no reason to be that flustered about it; you've made the same error plenty of times.

“i apologize. i won't do it again next time.”

(if he's going to confess, the least he can do is make his own lines for the occasion.)

next episode ; unavailable. preview →

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

七 ; kazuha, ???

switch up your verbs (part one) ~

walked - hiked - moved - shuffled - toddled - sauntered - ambled - tiptoed - meandered - strolled

laughed - chortled - chuckled - giggled - snorted - guffawed - howled - snickered - shrieked

wanted - ached for - wished - craved - coveted - fancied - pined - aspired

ran - sprinted - galloped - scampered - bolted - trotted - dashed - raced - jogged

jumped - bounced - hopped - leapt - hurtled - vaulted - barged - bounded

Apparently a lot of people get dialogue punctuation wrong despite having an otherwise solid grasp of grammar, possibly because they’re used to writing essays rather than prose. I don’t wanna be the asshole who complains about writing errors and then doesn’t offer to help, so here are the basics summarized as simply as I could manage on my phone (“dialogue tag” just refers to phrases like “he said,” “she whispered,” “they asked”):

“For most dialogue, use a comma after the sentence and don’t capitalize the next word after the quotation mark,” she said.

“But what if you’re using a question mark rather than a period?” they asked.

“When using a dialogue tag, you never capitalize the word after the quotation mark unless it’s a proper noun!” she snapped.

“When breaking up a single sentence with a dialogue tag,” she said, “use commas.”

“This is a single sentence,” she said. “Now, this is a second stand-alone sentence, so there’s no comma after ‘she said.’”

“There’s no dialogue tag after this sentence, so end it with a period rather than a comma.” She frowned, suddenly concerned that the entire post was as unasked for as it was sanctimonious.

Warning: Death, blood, wounds/injuries, unhappy ending.

"I think I'm... I'm dying."

"No, you're not," Caretaker insisted, panting loudly as they frantically ripped their shirt off and pressed it against the gaping wound in Whumpee's side. "You're not dying. No. The- the paramedics will- they'll be here any minute now and they're gonna help you. They're gonna make sure you come home to me again. You're not- you're not leaving me."

Whumpee didn't have the energy to convince them otherwise. They could feel their eyes already beginning to get heavier, and their bloodied hands trembled violently as they reached up to cup Caretaker's face in it.

"You're not dying," Caretaker repeated, their voice cracking. "You're not... you're not dying. Not yet."

Whumpee found themselves with a small, saddened smile. "I love you. You were always so kind to me..."

Caretaker gritted their teeth. "I am always kind to you. Present tense. You're not going anywhere."

"You and I both know that's a lie."

Instead of responding, Caretaker buried their head against Whumpee's chest and began to cry; long, heart-shattering wails leaving the back of their throat as they listened to Whumpee's breathing declining right in front of them.

"You're not leaving me, you're not leaving me..." they whispered repeatedly, feeling Whumpee's fingers gently trailing through their hair.

They continued to repeat that line well after Whumpee was gone, refusing to let go of their lifeless body when the medics tried to convince them to. Trembling fingers desperately attempted to get Whumpee to card their fingers through their hair one last time.

They refused to accept that their Whumpee was gone.

haechan: *dramatic gasp* mark can use TECHNOLOGY???!?

♡ CUTE LOCK SCREENS - FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

fluff, gn!reader

fushiguro megumi hasn’t let go of you for hours. the couch seems to be too comfortable to leave and you seem to be too cozy to let go of.

you’re sitting in between his legs, back against his chest as the tv is switched on with a cooking program on display. none of you could really care any less as you’re just cuddling, whispering words to one another that doesn’t have any meaning for anyone except you two.

he strokes your hand as he leans his head back against the cushion, smiling to himself just by having you this close. if anyone else would have seen him like this, he would not hear the end of it. but for now, he can only think about you and being able to hug you close to his chest.

he’s almost too lost in the moment to hear that you just received a notification on your phone, but as he glances down towards the table, he sees a picture of him with his eyes closed. it looks like he’s asleep but he can’t see more as your phone turns off as you haven’t touched it even after getting the notification. “am i your lock screen?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

your eyes widen as you didn’t even look towards your phone earlier, but he is right, he is your lock screen. it’s a picture he hasn’t seen of himself before, he was asleep when the picture was taken after all and you never dare to show the pictures you take of him as megumi never enjoys seeing himself on camera and would force you to delete the pictures.

“i-yes, yes you are. you weren’t meant to see that though,” you mumble, not wanting to look behind you to see his reaction, but he squeezes your hand even though his face is heating up, his cheeks slowly becoming pinker and pinker.

megumi scratches the back of his neck before brushing a hand through your hair. he can’t help but chuckle to himself as he looks down towards his own phone, taking it in his hands so he can switch it on and when he does, a smile spreads over your lips.

his lock screen is a picture of you smiling brightly into the camera. it’s a photo you’ve seen before, but you never expected him to put it as his lock screen so he could see it everyday.

you turn around slightly to look at him and he smiles softly before you place a kiss to his lips. he puts his hand over your cheek and looks at you fondly as the two of you pull away, just looking into each others eyes. “choose a better picture of me or i’ll take your phone and delete the picture,” he says as he kisses your lips again.