#i never make things easy for myself. do i?

[goat-and-a-pig]

You take a deep breath silently and try to open the window as smoothly as possible.

“What are you doing?” Shit. “Nothing. Go back to bed.” You hope that an abrasive answer will annoy her into going back to her room, but you should’ve known better than that. She crosses her arms and juts out her hip. “You don’t look like you’re doing nothing.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Well, I am. Go away, you’ll wake our parents.” She rolls her eyes. “No I won’t,” she whispers exaggeratedly. “They could sleep through a hurricane these days, now that they’ve learned they can ignore the things that go bump in the night.” You wince at that, even though the insult is to herself, not you. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” you say softly. She shakes her head, and the argument is over, although you want to continue. You’re not wrong, just… different. You wince at your internal thoughts. Not helpful.

She hasn’t had an easy life. Magical girls never do. Hell, not even regular girls do! You might be a guy, but even you understand that.

In fact, you’re on your way to do something about it. But she doesn’t need to know that.

“Hello? Are you there?” You snap back to the present. “Yeah!” And, after a beat, you add, “But you shouldn’t be!” She groans. “I’m not leaving until you’re telling me where you’re going! You’d say the same thing if I was trying to leave! In fact, you have before,” she grumbles, and you smirk. “That’s ’cause I’m the older brother, and it’s my job to keep you safe.” She rolls her eyes at you again, but she has no idea just how far you’d go to keep her safe. “Like I don’t want you to stay safe too? You may be the older brother, but I’m the one with powers. I’m the only one who can protect you from the monsters.”

You want to correct her, but she’s not wrong. “The monsters” are unkillable by men. It’s the only reason magical girls are even allowed to exist—because they can destroy what man fears most.

“I’m not going to get mauled by a monster, alright? I’m seventeen. I know how to take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me. Go back to bed.” You say the last part so forcefully that tears spring to her eyes, and though she tries to not show it, you can see them glow in the moonlight. Feck. You meant to get her to leave, not hurt her feelings. You sigh, go over to her, and hug her. You crouch down to eye level, even though she’s only half a head shorter than you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just that what I’m doing is… personal. I don’t want to talk about it but I promise you—I’ll be careful. I’ll be here in the morning without a scratch on my body. Can you trust me on this?” She sighs. “Of course I trust you, but I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve already had a bad enough day… week… month, I don’t need you to die and make it even worse. That’d be so selfish of you.” She tries to laugh but it comes out choked. Your face falls with hers as you think about the events that led to her nearly dying today.

1 Month Ago

He’s an asshole. Charming, maybe, but an asshole. You know it, she knows it, the whole town knows it. Some people hate him, some people love him. (For some stupid reason.) Unfortunately, he’s in your grade, but fortunately, he’s never bothered you before.

Unfortunately, he loves to bother girls. Magical girls. It’s hard to say why. You can tell he thinks of women as lesser but perhaps he also, like many others, feels that girls don’t deserve magic, that men do. Perhaps that’s why he likes to punish them for existing.

Perhaps that’s why he gets away with it.

You stay out of his way. You’ve told your sister to stay out of his way too, far more urgently. But things happen, whether or not you want them to, whether or not you’re there to try to stop them from happening.

He meets your sister in Algebra II.

You were so proud of your sister for being as smart as the average junior as a freshman. She was proud. Happy. Blooming in a place where she was finally learning at the right pace. Because magical girls look just like regular ones, He shouldn’t have taken any notice of her. Unfortunately, being a fourteen(“fifteen in a month!”)-year-old in a class full of sixteen and seventeen-year-olds makes her stick out like a sore thumb.

You know what he’s like. Who knows what he would’ve done if he hadn’t found out that she’s magical.

You can picture the scene that she’s told you. The first day of school, and an unfamiliar first name followed a vaguely familiar last one. He looked over at your sister, her long brown hair brushed nicely, eager hand raised in the air. After class, he hit her up.

“You new?” He smirked. She shook her head. “No, I’m just an advanced freshman.” He made a face like he knew that. “I thought I recognized your last name. You got a brother in my grade?” She nodded but before she can speak, he kept going. “Thought so. You can call me—” and he rattled off his name and number. My sister laughed awkwardly. “Um, was I supposed to write that down, or…?”

But he was already gone, laughing with his jackass friends.

Later that night, when she was talking about her day to you, she asked you who he was. You told her to stay far, far away from him. She promised to and tried.

But sometimes, trying isn’t enough. Not when he gets involved and interested.

For the next few weeks, he chatted her up any time he could. He’d tease her in class and follow her in the hallways every time their classes overlapped. She was getting creeped out, but she didn’t want to worry you.

You wish she’d worried you.

1 Week Ago

Your sister looked over her shoulder. She was walking to your house after school, but something felt off. It felt like she had a second shadow, although when she looked back, there was no one there. She looked back in from of her, right in time to see herself trip over her untied shoelace and fall. Her palms and elbow get shredded whilst breaking her fall. All of the sudden, he ran up to her and helped her up. “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding concerned, although he probably wasn’t. “That was a pretty nasty fall.”

“I’m okay,” she replied, and dusted herself off. “It’s just a scratch.” His eyebrows pinched. “Hardly! Your hands are… are…” He drifted off as he looked at her hands. “Healed?”

“Were you following me?” Your sister asked, realizing what his quick arrival meant. Her heart rate spiked with fear. “That’s not important. How are your hands healed? They were all scratched and bloody five seconds ago!” Your sister looked at him weirdly. “I’m magical. Duh. Now, were you following me?!?”

His face twisted up all ugly. (“Well, uglier.”) “You’re magical?" She stumbled back. "Go away!" She yelled, hoping for someone to run out of their house and save her from him. "Gladly," he sneered, face like spoiled milk. He walked off in the other direction angrily, and your sister was so overcome by relief, she nearly fell over again.

He had turned out to be even more of a bigot than she'd thought in the first place, but it seemed that it had worked out in her favor. He stopped talking to her in class or the hallways, stopped bumping into her "by accident", and had even stopped stalking her. Your sister was finally becoming at ease again.

Unfortunately, all of this was because he was planning something. Something big.

Something bad.

Earlier Today

Your sister was in the park, swinging carelessly when he came with ten of his buddies.

Magical girls are nearly impossible to kill. They can heal from practically any injury, which allows them to effectively stay alive long enough to kill the monsters. But they’re not allowed to give humans a single scratch, or else they’ll be Taken. And your sister didn’t want to be Taken. She loves you with all of her heart—she’d never let the government get in your way of being with each other.

Unfortunately, he knew all of this. So while him and his friends attempted to kill your sister the best they could, she didn’t fight back at all. She had no choice. She couldn’t even cry for help.

When you finally got to her, she wouldn’t stop bleeding.

There are some wounds magical girls cannot heal from, and he inflicted them on her. So now it’s your job to get back at him for it.

“Just trust me, okay? Everything is going to be fine. Go back to bed, fall asleep, and when you wake up in the morning, all of your problems will be gone. I promise.” You can tell she doesn’t believe you, but she sighs. “Be careful.”

She knows what you’re going to do, doesn’t she? You can’t keep secrets from magical girls.

She hugs you and leaves. Now you sigh. You wish it hadn’t come to this, but you aren’t sad about having to do it.

He needs to be taught a lesson… for good.

Magical girls kill monsters all the time, but they’re not allowed to kill humans. But you’re not a magical girl; you’re her older brother.

And you have a score to settle.

Magical girls kill monsters all the time, but they're not allowed to kill humans. But you're not a magical girl; you're her older brother.

[deliwrites]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤 // Saja Boys & Huntr/x

// DATE // 25th of July 2025 → 31st July 2025 // PAIRING // Huntr/x x Fem!Reader x Saja Boys // WARNING // Morally grey discussion, humiliation, guilt, skinship, princess treatment, protective and possessive behavior // WORDS // 6.2k+ // SUMMARY // After a tense confrontation, Y/n finds safety in Zoey’s warmth—until a surprise interview throws her into the spotlight. With Baby and Mystery at her side, tension builds beneath calm touches and possessive glances. And when they're finally alone, desire wins out in a kiss that leaves her breathless… and conflicted.

// Previous // Part Nine // Next //

a/n: Maju FM is a made up radio station, it means face to face FM. As is the segment “WHO ARE YOU!”, I have chosen an age to fit the story, Reader is 23 years old! It took a while to finish cause I had to built the Saja Boys apartment in the sims 4

The living room was dim, the automatic lights having dimmed to a soft glow. Jinu had cleared the cake plates and put the leftover cake back in the fridge. With Y/n now safely upstairs with Zoey, it was time.

Baby was busy setting up Y/n’s new phone. Added all their contacts and blocked all of Jaewon’s old phone numbers including the one he used to torment their girl today.

“We are not letting this slide anymore,” Abby broke the silence first, voice calm. But power simmered under his skin.

“I’ve never seen her shut down like this,” Rumi says, leaning against Jinu. A sorrowful look on her face. “I think the fact that you held her did help,” she looks at Romance, a soft smile plays on his lips. Very glad he was able to comfort her.

“He announced he has an event tomorrow night,” Mystery says, phone in hand, arms littered with his patterns. Unable to suppress them at them moment. The need to protect what was his taking control. “It’s near Itaewon. He’ll be drunk and distracted,” he adds looking at the event information. Seeing that there was an open bar and entertainment.

“Perfect Mira smirks evilly, eyes golden with dark excitement. “You two tail him,” she points at Baby and Mystery. “Make sure he feels watched, make him paranoid.”

Baby’s lips curl. “I’ll take his phone. Easy in a crowded place, put it back before he notices it’s missing.”

“And once you have it?” Rumi asks, wondering what he had in mind. She could guess but wanted to make sure they were all on the same page.

“I clone it. Mirror everything. Just like I did with Y/n’s phone,” he elaborates. “I’ll be able to see his texts, calls, location. Every disgusting thing he searches. E-ver-y-thing,” the look on his face is enough to kill someone. Which he very much planned on doing.

“We’ll mask our presence,” Mystery adds. “He won’t know who we are but he’ll notice,” he turns into a random dude right in front of them. It looked nothing like any of them, but had the darkest, most sinister look on his face when he smiled.

“Let’s make him wish he never laid eyes on our girl,” Abby’s statement is final. The first part of their plan set up and ready to be put in motion.

Waking up bare chested was new… and odd. Not something I ever did. It was slightly chilly too. Cuddling closer to Zoey who still laid next to me. Her arms wrapping around me even tighter in response. My face nuzzles into her neck. Zoey shudders as a content sigh fans her skin.

“Gwiyomi?” her voice soft as the somewhat surprised question leaves her lips. The word sounding slightly slurred with sleep.

“Good morning,” I smile against her neck. She squeezes me, sleepily.

“I don’t want to get up,” she says, pecking my head. “Just want to stay right here with you,” I giggle at her breathy words. Pulling away just enough to look at Zoey. Her eyes are still closed a soft smile on her lips. It’s hard to hold myself back from kissing them. I can’t right now, can’t be even more of a distraction, she’s got work to do.

“You gotta work,” I tease her, tickling her side. Her eyes snapping open squeals leaving her lips unwillingly.

“S-stop-” Zoey stutters through giggles. Chuckling, I stop tickling her giving her some space to breath. “Oh my god, that woke me up,” she chuckles.

“Now you gotta get out of bed,” I start pushing her towards the edge of the bed.

“Only if you come with me,” she pouts, ass already slipping out of the bed. I just chuckle and keep pushing her till she’s fully on the floor. Turning my back to her I let out a sigh feigning peace and quiet, closing my eyes again. “No, no, no,” Zoey stomps around my bed, blocking the sun cascading on my face. I peek one eye open, the pout is still on her face, brows furrowed in anger.

“Fine,” I whine, sitting up slowly. A grin forms on her lips. Leaning forward she pecks my nose to which I scrunch it. She grins then pecks my lips.

“Time to get ready, you’re gonna spend the day with Baby and Mystery,” nodding I stand up. she pulls me closer by my hips pecking my lips again, and again. Her hand slide over my ass, a squeal escaping my lips when she suddenly squeezes. My hands bracing against her shoulders in surprise.

“Zoey~,” I whine a flush covering my cheeks. She just shrugs like it was nothing. Something she had to do, couldn’t leave untouched.

“Get dressed and I’ll see you downstairs before we leave, okay?” I nod to which she nods in return. Pecking my lips tenderly, lingering before leaving my room. Not caring that she was still topless.

When she closed the door it dawns on me that I too was still topless. I really needed a shower after last nights events, but at the same time I didn’t want to get rid of the feeling of Zoey’s touch.

After a quick shower and changing into a pair of light blue shorts and a comfy hoodie, I make my way downstairs.

“Oh! There is my breakfast!” my eyes shoot up to meet Zoey. Mira and Rumi chocking on their own breakfasts. Surprised by their bandmates words, spoken with such excitement. My cheeks burn red with humiliation. Though, I can’t deny the twitch it sent below.

“Zoey~,” I whine, reach the kitchen unable to look at either Rumi nor Mira. “You can’t just say that,” I pout. She just giggles and pulls me into her embrace. Cupping my cheeks she pecks my lips softly, like an apology.

“I’m just teasing, gwiyomi,” she says. “Though I could definitely eat you for breakfast another time,” her voice barely above a whisper, she pulls away handing me a place which had a leftover slice of cake. Completely missing the smirks on Rumi and Mira’s face as they shake a look.

So could we.

“Thank you,” taking the plate I move around the island, taking a seat next to Mira. Face hotter than a tomato. I take a quick bite of the cooled cake in hopes of cooling my face. Not taking my eyes off the unhealthy breakfast.

Missing the way Zoey has to hold back her squeak of excitement. Having just told them about last nights escapades. The other two were only a little bit envious but it means she’s trusting them more and more.

“Here is your new phone,” Mira slides the iridescent pearl colored phone to me. It now had a clear case on it and when I pressed the screen there was a selfie of the eight of them. It looked like they took it when they held a fan event together. One I couldn’t attend. They all made funny faces which brought a smile to my face.

“Thank you, what about my old phone?” I ask, scrolling through my phone to see if their were anything missing. Everything seemed to be there.

“Baby took care of it,” Rumi says, shrugging her shoulders. Portraying that Baby would get rid of it. But in reality he held on to it to see if Jaewon would still message her. “Don’t forget to set up a password. Oh and all our numbers are in there. Including Bobby’s, Felix’s and Celine’s,” Bobby being their manager, Felix being the Saja Boys’ manager, and head of Honmoon, Celine.

“So if you need us, we are only a call away,” Zoey smiles sitting down beside me. She pecks my cheeks sweetly before digging into her breakfast like she hasn’t eaten in days.

“What will you guys be doing today?” I ask curiously, only a little nervous about spending the day with Baby and Mystery. Not that I didn’t trust them, but if there was a picture in the dictionary with the word intimidating, it would be them.

“We have to record our new song,” Rumi says. “And then we can finally show you.”

“I can’t wait to show you,” Zoey claps with excitement. The smile on her face bringing a copy on mine. Her excitement was one of the things that first drew me in when it came to Huntr/x. They had debuted just the year before I started traineeship. I was hooked before they even had debuted. The funniest of clips had been going around of challenges they had done during their traineeship. Along with Zoey struggling to learn Korean.

Obviously her mom was Korean but she grew up in the US where their had been no use for the language. It was absolutely adorable to watch her learn. Now you would think she’d always spoken Korean.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” I finish my cake just as the elevator dings. Out walk Baby and Mystery. “Good morning,” I greet them. Getting up I clean up my plate, putting it in the dishwasher. Soon putting in the girls’ plates to.

“Right, we are off now,” Rumi announces. “Take good care of her,” she gives the boys a pointed look. Not that she doubted them. Baby doesn’t look too fazed but there is a flicker of offense in his eyes.

“I’m sure they’ll take wonderful care of her,” Zoey says squishing my face before she presses her lips on mine. It’s tender with a small bite that promises more later. After a squeeze to my ass causing me to go red, she smirks and walks in the direction of the elevator. I get pulled in for a peck by Mira. Missing the way Zoey kisses both Baby and Mystery. But I don’t get to recover before Rumi does the same.

“We’ll see you tonight,” Mira calls out, the two of them following Zoey. Meanwhile I’m stood frozen. Still by the dishwasher face flushed with both embarrassment and guilt.

I’ve been intimate with Zoey, I shouldn’t go around kissing her band mates behind her back! What is wrong with me!?

“You okay ippeuni?” Mystery’s sudden yet extremely comforting voice bring me back to reality.

“Uhm, yeah,” I think about talking about my predicament with them but decide against it. “We gonna do anything special today?” I ask instead. I’ll have another internal battle about this later.

“The plan was to just chill today,” Baby says, letting out a somewhat annoyed sigh before continuing. “But we have an unexpected radio interview.”

“Oh, uhm, that’s alright. I can just stay here,” it’s no biggie really, but they way they look at me is like I've just insulted them.

“No, you’re coming with,” Mystery walks over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and starts tugging me along. “Gaja.”

“Won’t I just be in the way?” I swiftly snatch my phone from the counter. Letting Mystery guide me without much protest.

“You could never,” Baby’s voice sounds deeper than normal, making a shiver run down my spine, deliciously. No stop it body, don’t betray me!

The car ride was almost eerily quiet. But I knew both of them weren’t big talkers. Instead they showed their attention with a - possessive - grip on my knees.

“So, what is the interview about?” I decide to break the silence with my curiosity.

“Not sure, something about getting to know us better as individual people.”

“You don’t sound excited about it,” I note. I mean I couldn’t blame them. Why they decided to put the two of the most silent people of the group together for an interview is beyond me.

“I just can’t be bothered to talk to people about myself. Especially those nosy hosts,” Baby replies, his hand squeezing my knee. “I would much rather spend the day with you,” a shy smile plays on my lips at his words, wishing we could indeed be doing that instead.

“Sadly, responsibilities get in the way,” Mystery adds. “Other wise we would never leave your side,” his grip tightens on my knee, it doesn't hurt, it actually felt nice. Possessive.

Before I can respond the car stops in the parking garage of the radio station. No door opens which means the driver is staying the car. The back of the large SUV being completely separate form the front. Mystery get’s out first then lends me his hand. With the SUV being this large, I was grateful for the hand, jumping the small distance to the concrete floor.

Baby appeared from the other side of the car. A look that screams ‘I don’t want to be here’ on his face. Which was not far from the reality.

Baby was promised alone time which he now doesn’t get to have. His time will be even shorter with her now with both him and Mystery going after Jaewon tonight.

Everything the building they are met with a member of their own staff. He looks nervous as he apologizes. Rambling on and on about how they had missed the invitation and had to do it now.

They don’t really respond only starting at him as they continue to make their way through the building. Soon met by one of the hosts. I recognized her as Yoomi. Also knows as the Queen of cozy late-morning talks.

“Joeun achimimnida, Baby-ssi, Mystery-ssi,” she greets enthusiastically. “Thank you so much for joining us on the radio today!”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” we greet them a respectful bow. The two painted fake smiles on their faces.

“Oh, is this who I think it is?” her eyes find me. “Y/n, the one who stole everyone’s heart!” her excitement seems to grow to the point I subconsciously stand closer to Mystery. Not used to this kind of attention from strangers.

“Hello,” I wave awkwardly, voice quiet. Mystery turns to me arm subtly wrapping around my waist. It’s just a touch yet a sense of calm washes over me.

“What brings you here?”

“Oh, I’m just here to support my sunbaes,” I say honestly.

“You can join them,” her enthusiasm only makes me stress more. Her co-host Haemin joins the conversation just then.

“Annyeong,” he greets casually.

“Hae, don’t you think Y/n should join them for our segment?” Yoomi pulls on his arm like it’s the best idea she’s ever had ant his need to happen.

“A-annyo,” I wave my hands like I’m pleading but they either don’t care or don’t notice.

“One moment,” Baby cuts their conversation. taking my arm the three of us go back intot he empty hall. “Take a breath,” his voice isn’t stern, it’s gentle, soft. His eyes scanning my face with concern.

“Why do they want me to join?” I ask expecting them to not have an answer. “I’m a nobody,” my breathing hasn’t gotten any better even with me intaking puffs of air. All I want is for one of them, or both of them to encage me.

It’s like they can read my thoughts. Mystery turns me to him, pulling me into a tight grounding hug. My head tucked safely into his chest.

Slowly my breathing returns to it’s normal pace, but I don’t leave Mystery’s embrace just yet.

“You’re not a nobody anymore,” Mystery’s soft voice breaks the silence that surrounded us. The way he says nobody sounds like he never thought I was one.

“What do you mean?”

“Look,” I turn in Mystery’s hold looking at Baby’s phone. “It's my Weverse account, which last I checked had about a thousand members. Now it nearly has a million members. No where near theirs but still. I stood shell shocked for a moment. “These fans want to get to know you,” my eyes meet his. Mine filled with uncertainty and anxiety, his filled with adoration and support.

They didn’t want cause her more stress, but they knew that getting her on this show. Even if they didn’t want to themselves, meant she would get more support from fans. Make them fall in love with her just like they did, but never more then them. They would never be able to love her more than they did.

“This would be the perfect opportunity to do just that,” Mystery adds, squeezing me gently. “Besides, it won’t be as boring anymore if you’re there with us,” turning my head to look at him, I find a smirk playing on his lips.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” the sound of their voices in sync send flutter to my stomach. Stop it!

“I’ve never done a radio interview before,” I admit. “Please make sure I don’t say anything I’m not supposed to.”

“Of course, yeobo,” Baby packs my cheek.

Before we started a picture was taken of the three of us with the two hosts. Reluctantly, I was placed in the middle. Haemin’s arm around my waist while Yoomi, almost clung to Baby. Mystery next to Haemin with his usually stoic face, but it felt darker being close to him.

They posted the picture to all Maju FM’s socials. My phone dinged with the notification form the tags. Which reminded me to put it on vibrate for now.

Tune in at Maju FM for a surprise guest! Not only Baby and Mystery will be joining us int he segment of ‘WHO ARE YOU!’. Recent award winning Y/n will be there too! Time to find out more about this diamond in the rough idol!

Now we were sat in the actual studio. Baby sat to my right, Mystery to my left. I had expected the room to look more… serious? Instead, we were sat on a comfortable couch which was decorated with lots of fluffy pillows and blankets. Mystery had immediately thrown a blanket over our legs. I wasn’t really sure why, maybe because it was the tiniest bit chilly? My shorts covered me well enough, I think?

The hosts sat on their own soft love seats. Legs pulled up next to them. Yoomi had a blanket across her legs. An adorable tea set beside her on a small round table the height of the arm rest. We had three similar tables, one a little more to the right of me and one on either side of the couch. Each containing the drink we asked for plus a water bottle.

Mics positioned in front of all of us, checked and ready to go. A bright bubbly jingle plays with a sparkle chime.

“Everyone, it’s that time again! The segment you’ve all been waiting for!” Yoomi starts off loud and excited as she always does.

“WHO~ ARE~ YOU~!” Haemin joins Yoomi for the chaotic almost game show like intro.

“This segment is where we meet the idols we love as who they really are,” Yoomi explains for any new listeners. “And today’s guests? We’ve hit the absolute jackpot! How is this even real?”

“You might have already seen on our socials, but dear listeners we are so excited to introduce to you,” Haemin pauses dramatically. “Baby and Mystery, the two Saja Boys that always keep you guessing. Will we get to know more today!” the two only say a hello, not acknowledging whether they’ll share anything or not before letting Haemin continue. “And an unexpected but very much welcome guest. The one I know a lot of you have been dying to know more about! It’s Y/n~!” I say a polite hello a little overwhelmed with their excitement.

“All three of you, welcome!” Yoomi finishes, a lot calmer now, though the excited smile doesn’t leave her face.

“Let’s start with Baby and Mystery,” Haemin says, relief washing over me. “We’re honored to have you join us.”

Baby spoke first low and even. “Thanks for having us,” but there was no sincerity in his voice. Mystery only hmm’ed in acknowledgement.

“We know you’re not big on interviews,” Yoomi said lightly. It was true. They enjoyed game shows more. But even then they weren’t the most talkative. Only talking when they had to or addressed by their band mates. Plus it usually involved less talking about themselves. “So we’ll keep this easy. How are things right now, musically? What are you working on?”

“Studio work mostly,” Mystery answered with a shrug. “Filming for a music video along with working on new songs,” Baby didn’t add anything but Haemin still turned to him.

“Same for you?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “We just finished our national tour, so we have a bit more free time at the moment.”

They continue to ask them questions, neither of them able to get so much as a chuckle out of them. All serious nearly one word answers.

That’s when I felt it. The fabric of the blanket moved. Barely noticeable with the way I had my arms resting on my legs. The hosts certain didn’t notice. Baby’s hand found my thigh first. Fingers firm around the skin of my upper thigh. Thumb rubbing slow grounding circles. Mystery’s hand joined soon after on my other thigh. Fingers curling around the curve of my thigh. Silent, solid. But there loud and clear. Both possessive in their own way.

Their faces betrayed nothing when I looked at them. Their touch making me almost forget where we were. Pulled back to reality when Yoomi’s voice booms again.

“And now…” Yoomi turned her attention fully on me. “The one we really can’t belief is here. Y/n we are so glad to have you here! How are you?”

I straightened stiffly, nervous. Both hands squeeze my thighs once grounding me. Calming my nervous a bit. “Thank you for having me, especially with no notice,” I reply awkwardly. “I’m alright… a bit nervous, I must admit,” a quiet self deprecating laugh escaping my lips.

“Why is that?” Haemin asks curiously.

“Oh well… I’ve never been interviewed before,” I answer honestly. It was true. I’ve been an idol for three years now. 0 interviews. “So, it’s a bit nerve wrecking, ‘cause I have no idea what you’re going to ask me.”

“Don’t worry, Y/n,” Haemin said, voice warm sending a wink my way. Neither Baby nor Mystery seemed to like that, If the way their grip on my thighs seemed to tighten was anything to go by. “We’ll be gentle with you,” that made Mystery shift, which might not seem significant, but this man was practically a statue. Why did he not like Haemin?

“Thank you,” a gentle smile curves my lips. “I appreciate that,” Baby’s fingers curled just a bit tighter around my thigh. It was possessive yes, but it conveyed that he was there for me. They both were.

“Let’s just jump right in, shall we?” Haemin said taking a quick sip of his coffee. “A lot of people don’t know anything about you. You practically shot up in popularity after the Kpop Rising Stars Awards last weekend. Which we will come back to, but for now… Tell us about you. Who is Y/n? How long have you been in the industry?”

That question felt heavier than it sounded. My fingers fidget nervously above the blanket. Both hands seem to gravitate towards mine. Letting me know it’s okay to take my time.

“That’s true,” I answer softly. “I am pleasantly surprised to have gained more fans since then,” I took a breath to steady myself and allow myself a moment to think. “I am Y/n, originally from Jeollanam-do and 23 years old. I came to Seoul when I was fifteen. My parents didn’t agree with me, but they let me go anyway. I entered traineeship under Luminara Entertainment, who gave me an idol contract five years later.”

“Wow, that’s already quite the journey,” Yoomi murmured. “What’s it like under Luminara Entertainment?” I didn’t realize I started grimacing until Haemin chuckled.

“Not that great?” he asks.

“Well…” I shift awkwardly. I probably shouldn’t trash talk the label, but I’m no longer with them. “I can’t speak for everyone,” I preface. “But yeah. My experience wasn’t the best-”

“Wasn’t?” Yoomi cuts me off. I miss the way Mystery’s hidden gaze meets Yoomi. Glaring daggers at the interruption. Though Yoomi either doesn’t notice either or isn’t bothered. “As in… you’re not signed with them anymore?”

“No,” I reply a smile returning to my face. “I’m currently signed with Honmoon Entertainment.”

“Ah, so now you get to play with the big ones,” Haemin grinned. “Huntr/x and the Saja Boys! What’s that like?”

“Well I see them a lot more than I expected,” deciding not to share that I live with Huntr/x. “I obviously knew of them before, but I only first met them just last weekend. It was surreal, honestly,” I chuckle. “I mean I was just a nob-”

“You weren’t just a nobody,” Baby said quietly, but loud enough to silence the room. Caught off guard by the calm firmness in his tone. He didn’t look at me, nor at the hosts. He just spoke like it was factual and no one could tell him otherwise. Not even me.

Yoomi blinked, surprised. “Right… So-so you met them at the award show?”

I nod. “Yeah, that was the first time. I didn’t expect anything, let alone their support. They didn’t owe me anything. But they helped, both with my nerves and getting the win. Which I wouldn’t have won without them,” I send an appreciative smile to both of them.

“They didn’t know you and still helped?” Yoomi tilts her head. “Why was that?” she turns to flick her eyes between Mystery and Baby.

“We knew her song,” Mystery spoke voice low and composed. “But didn’t know it belonged to her,” his answer seemed to confuse the hosts as they shared a look with each other, brows furrowed.

“Right. Apparently, Luminara had shown my song around to other artists, including them. To sell it, I guess? I didn’t even know. They had turned it down, but… they remembered.”

There was a pause, heavy. Silent, with gentle squeezes of their hands in support.

“When we got shown the demo,” Baby starts softly. His eyes on me. “We collectively decided it belonged to the beautiful voice it was sung by,” the intensity of his eyes and words caused a flush to fill my cheeks.

“We were never told who it actually belonged to but we kept the demo. Hoping that one day we would find out who it belonged to,” Mystery adds a rarely seen soft smile on his lips, directed at me. And only me.

“Hearing that from them,” a sigh of appreciation leaves my lips. My hands subtly covering theirs above the blanket. “Meant more to me than they know.”

“That must have been hard to find out, though,” Haemin frowned.

“It was. I worked on that song for ages. It’s about me. My pain. And they showed it off behind my back.”

“Is that why you left Luminara?”

I couldn’t stop the huffed laugh, with frustration running through me like a rollercoaster. “I didn’t leave. They dropped me. Two days ago, with a deadline of twenty-four hours to vacate the dorms. No real explanation.”

“What!?”

“That’s insane!”

“But I’m better off now,” a soft smile playing on my lips. “I get treated well at Honmoon. And get the support of a lifetime from Huntr/x and the Saja Boys,” eyes lowering a bit. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without them,” both their fingers caress my skin tenderly.

Getting back to Honmoon tower, I lean against Mystery, socially exhausted. “Did I do okay?” I ask quietly as we enter the elevator. Baby holds a pass to the sensor just below the buttons inside. Unlocking two additional numbers which I recognize as both their floor and the Huntr/x floor.

“You did great,” Mystery spoke softly, leaving a lingering peck on the top of my head. Baby steps next to me after pressing their floor. Gently taking my hand, lifting it to his face. Gently pecking the back of my hand before lowering our hands back down. Keeping my hand in his.

My phone had been vibrating none stop since the segment aired. But I have been too scared to look at it. Afraid of what my new fans though of me. I might just give my phone to them so I don’t have to see it first hand.

The elevator opens with a soft chime, I follow them out, bending to take off my shoes. Only Mystery is quicker. On one knee one hand tapping my ankle, silently telling me to lift it. Baby is beside me still, holding me steady now as Mystery removes my shoes. Neatly placing them on the shoe rack right in front of us.

“Thank you,” I murmur, blush already flushing my cheeks. Baby pecks my cheek before letting go of me and taking off his own shoes. Not wanting to overstep I wait for both to move further into the apartment. The first thing I notice was the space. It’s pretty similar to the Huntr/x apartment in size.

High ceilings, sleek lines, rich brown hardwood floors. Windows stretched all the outer walls. Floor to ceiling, showing the Seoul skyline beautifully.

Everything looked expensive. The wall next to the elevator was covered with awards they had won. Which makes me wonder where I actually left mine. A little to the left stood a black marble table with comfortable looking black leather chairs, fit for ten people.

Further left, just around the corner from the entrance sat an extremely large kitchen. L shaped with a separate five seater island. Black and marble seems to be the theme here. Black marble counter tops, black cabinets top and bottom with gold accents. TWO REFRIDGERATORS!? I mean, I guess they are five people. Men no less, I guess they eat a lot.

A grand piano stood alone in the center of the sunken living room. Beautiful maroon red on a cream colored rug, lights of different sizes hang above it. Did all suites have a grand piano? To the left a half moon leather couch positioned in front of a TV that is suspended by the ceiling, in front of the large curved windows. Two golden floor lamps on either side of the couch. The rug beneath it looked soft to the touch, black and white stripes almost like a zebra. But the spaces was bigger between stripes. A round coffee table with a white marble top.

Just next to the dining table was a small sitting area with a couch and small book cases holden more books than I expected. Gentle lighting hanging above it.

And to my surprise a bar on the right side of the Piano. I wonder what they store there. Do they drink often or did it come with the apartment without their input?

It felt like them, dark, effortlessly luxurious. Some how it felt like they knew how to host, how to spoil, how to take care of someone without ever saying a word. Something Mystery and Baby were most definitely good at. If how they worked together without communication just to take my shoes off was anything to go by.

Mystery guided me to the black leather couch while I still looked around, amazed. He sat down first and before I could even think about sitting down next to him. He pulled me into his lap.

A blush gracing my cheeks in surprise. He silently pulls my legs onto the couch. Making me sit side ways, but makes sure I can lean against him. My head leaning against his shoulder both his arms wrapped around me. His face buried in my hair.

He takes a deep breath which surprises me. But I don't say anything about it as it seems to calm whatever it was that was stirring inside him.

"I don't like how Haemin talked to you,” his voice lower than normal. I know exactly what he's talking about too.

"Me neither," Baby appears with drinks for the three of us and a platter which held small snacks. He hands me the platter and places the drinks on the table, before lifting my legs in the air. Mystery making sure I don’t fall. Baby sits down close to Mystery and gently lowers my legs back down. His hand stays on my leg with a possessive yet gentle grip. "I- I’m sure he was just trying to be nice,” I try to excuse his behavior.

I was waiting in the hall while mystery went to use the bathroom and Baby went to talk to their staff member about the sudden interview. He was just a little ways away. I could just see his minty blue hair.

"Hey,” a voice called smoothly from the hall to my right. I turn to see Haemin slip out of one of the doors. A charming grin on his face

"Hi,” I greet politely. His eyes skimmed over me slowly as he walked closer.

"I can't lie, I wasn't expecting you to be that... composed. Or this pretty,” was that meant to be compliment? His eyes scan me again making a shiver of discomfort run down my spine. He steps even closer, entering my personal bubble. "You got plans tonight?"

What? What is going on?

"I- I do, actually,” I answer honestly. Not that I would have told him the truth If I didn't have plans.

In my peripheral vision, I see Mystery and Baby. They are not walking towards us. Just quietly observing.

"Too bad," Haemin's smirk flickers for a second. "I think we could have had a lot of fun," that makes me take a half step back. Subtle but not obvious. "You Know, you're kind of dangerous,” my brows rise.

“Dangerous?"

"Yeah,” he grins like he said something clever. "Sweet voice, gentle eyes. That combo get's stuck in a guys head.”

"Good thing it was just Radio,” I mutter while my skin gets itchier the longer I talk to him. He chuckles, still confident.

"Still leaves a lot to the imagination,” before I could decide how to respond, I caught a subtle shift in the air. Like magnets Baby and Mystery got closer like a warning, unamused by Haemin's actions. His eyes flicker to the two guard dogs. His grin dimming like he finally realized this wasn't going anywhere. "Anyway," he backs off with a shrug. “Don't be a stranger.”

“But I am thankful that you guys were there,” I thank them pecking Mystery’s cheek. Leaning forward, careful of the platter and pull Baby’s face closer, pecking his cheek too.

They are gentle, harmless like when they always peck my cheeks. Their presence is warm, Mystery's arm around me pulls a little tighter, grounding me against him. Baby’s hand slides from my shin to my bare thigh. Fingers curling possessively which makes my stomach flutter.

I shouldn’t feel this. Shouldn’t want this but I do. They all make me feel things I’ve never felt before. But… Zoey. We never discussed…, guilt washes over me.

But this… it doesn’t feel wrong. It’s dangerously magnetic, unreal and just… right.

Baby leans in, his voice a breath across my face. “That all we get, yeobo?” the sound of his voice and the look on his face makes me flush red.

“It’s all it should be,” my voice trembling, just barely a whisper. Mystery shifts below me, forehead brushing against my temple, his lips gracing the skin along my jaw.

“Then why do you look like you want more, ippeuni?” a gasp escapes unable to answer. I can’t cause I do want more but I shouldn’t. And I hate myself for it.

My pulse races as Baby’s thumb starts moving in slow circles against my thigh. The warmth of his touch crawls up my skin. I shouldn’t let it get to me. Shouldn’t let it pull me in.

But instead… I lean into it. I kiss Mystery first, slow and uncertain. Yet no longer wanting to pretend I don’t feel this. His lips patient, surprisingly gentle. His hand cups my cheek while the other pulls me closer by my waist.

His lips move against mine with unspoken desperation. There was a message behind it. something I couldn’t figure out. My hands find his chest, fisting the fabric of his sleeveless sweater. A need to get closer , something to keep me grounded.

He tasted like mint and quiet danger. The danger not directed at me, it felt protective instead. Comfort and chaos keeping me from pulling away. Not that I wanted to in the first place.

By the time I pulled away, my heart hammered in my chest, breath gone. He places another gentle peck to my slightly swollen lips. Movement brining my attention to Baby. His eyes on me as he blindly places the untouched platter on the coffee table.

His hand replaces Mystery’s place, cupping my face, a gentle swipe of his thumb across my cheek. His eyes flicker between mine and my lips. Pulling me in as he leans in. His lips meet mine softly, like I’m a breakable piece of porcelain.

It’s so soft I nearly whimper wanting more. His hand slides to the side of my neck, thumb brushing my throat dangerously as he pressed deeper into the kiss. Every movement of his lips was a new whisper. I’ve got you. I want you. You’re ours.

When I finally pulled away my lips tingled, my head light as I sank deeper into Mystery’s embrace. I didn’t even open my eyes yet. Just breathed and let myself feel in the quiet of their presence.

// Previous // Part Nine // Next //

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[arcoism]

“It’s not about how hard you try to shift, it’s about how easy you allow yourself to shift”

- That is something I read on here and it’s been repeating in my head for the past few days.

It helped me realize that I am putting pressure on myself to shift. To leave. To “get away”. But all I needed to do is to remember and surrender. That phrase alone helped me remove most, if not all the pressure that I had put on myself to shift.

It’s really not about how hard you try, force or beg. It’s about how gentle you are with yourself. How easy you let yourself relax and accept the fact that you are shifting no matter what. Just accept it. Don’t force it. Don’t psych yourself out. Just let it happen. “It’s about how easy you allow yourself to shift” it really is that easy. It was never about being strict. It was never about force. So just breathe. Let it happen.

I know how bad you want to shift, I know how desperate you are to see your people. I know. But force and desperation isn’t the right way to go about it.

Let me give you an example (a stupid one lowkey) :

Ever pulled your seatbelt so hard that it locks up and gets stuck, and you get frustrated? Then you try again more gently and it works? Treat yourself like that. Force, stress and pressure will make things wayyyyy harder than they need to be.

So again, just allow it, repeat the phrase in your head while you shift.

Best of luck to ya’ll 🫡

[lavenderangell]

Thinking of Giving Up?

A lot of people think manifesting is hard. And honestly, in the beginning it is. It feels like you're fighting against everything you've known, believed, and lived through. The thing that made me keep going is this:

I refused to give up.

I refused to live in a world where we're told to accept circumstances that break our hearts. Where we’re expected to just cope with pain, struggle and lack, as if that’s all life has to offer.

I’ve gone back and forth about whether or not I should even share this. I’m a private person, and I’ve never really liked opening up about the hard parts of my life but maybe someone needs to hear this. Maybe there's someone out there on the verge of giving up and this will encourage them to keep going.

For me, it was financial instability. My family struggled with money after my father lost his job. He had to sell his car to make ends meet. I know what it feels like to worry about where your next meal will come from. To feel ashamed and afraid. At one point, my parents hadn’t paid rent in over 6 months. Every single day I woke up thinking, "Is today the day we get evicted?"

And eventually… that day came.

We had to move to a much smaller house and because I'm the oldest, I had to give up having a room of my own. I slept in the living room. Every night, I would lie there surrounded by silence, pretending it didn’t break my heart. There were nights I cried quietly in the dark, wondering if this was all a waste of time. I doubted the law. I doubted myself. I thought, "Maybe this doesn’t work and I’m deluding myself." I felt like I was drowning in hopelessness, watching life go by while I stayed stuck.

Something in me refused to give up. I persisted, it wasn't easy, but giving up meant continuing to live a life that crushed me. It meant accepting defeat and I couldn't do that.

So I kept going. I assumed that my parents were wealthy, even when the fridge was empty. I imagined a better life, even when we were surviving on handouts.

Then, out of nowhere, my mom found out her father had left her a huge area of land. She sold it. The first thing my parents did was pay the money they owed the former landlord. After, they bought 2 cars and invested in real estate. And they still had money left over.

My dad, who had been unemployed for three years, finally got the job he had been hoping for.

We were once evicted.

Now my parents own an apartment complex and they're already planning on buying another.

You can’t convince me that this was just a coincidence.

So I ask you this, with all the love in my heart:

Are you willing to accept what they told you life has to be?

Or will you keep going, even when it’s hard?

Even when it hurts.

Even when your heart is tired and your eyes are heavy from crying. Because the moment you stop accepting less, life stops giving you less.

Accept that you already have what you want and persist.

This girl walked through shadows with tears in her eyes. She cradled hope like a fragile flame, even when the world gave her nothing but cold winds. Manifesting, she realised, was never about chasing. It was about becoming. She remembered the ancient truth that reality is soft clay in her hands, and with each quiet assumption, she shaped a life worthy of the divinity within her. She is no longer waiting. She is creating, endlessly, effortlessly.

......

I was going through my drafts when I saw this post and felt a nudge to share it. If it reaches even one person who needs it right now, then it’s done its job.

[eriwithpetalsandletters]

Code Blue For Oscar Piastri — Part 3

In the quiet buzz of a hospital, a moment of tenderness unfolds between a nurse and the Formula 1 driver who knows exactly where his heart belongs. Amid subtle chaos and unexpected interruptions, love stays steady—and someone’s devotion never wavers.

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story created purely for entertainment and imaginative purposes.

Vital Signs & Violet Blooms

The hallway smells faintly of antiseptic and floor polish, but Oscar walks through it like it’s a flower field. In his hands: a modest bouquet of violets—Y/N’s favorite, he remembers—and a takeout bag still warm to the touch, filled with the comfort food she’d once mentioned during a late-night text spiral that started with “I think I just resuscitated someone twice today.”

He’s dressed down today. Hoodie, joggers, and his usual easy charm. No cameras. No team radios. Just him, looking for a woman whose laughter haunts his headphones and whose chaotic grace has somehow become the most calming part of his race weekends.

Y/N’s at the nurse’s station when she sees him—her eyes widen in a way that makes one of the junior doctors audibly gasp. She scrambles to stand, smoothing her scrubs like they’re a ballgown and not covered in pen ink and four different patient charts.

“You brought food?” she asks, incredulous.

“And flowers,” Oscar grins.

They end up eating in the staff break room—a miracle, considering it’s usually a war zone of microwaved leftovers and crying interns. But today? Somehow, everyone clears out. No alarms. No emergency calls. Just quiet. As if the hospital itself decided to pause for them.

The hum of the hospital’s break room coffee machine filled the quiet between them, as Y/N leaned her elbow against the counter, exhausted but glowing. Oscar sat beside her, unbothered by the harsh fluorescent lights and clattering trays. He looked absurdly comfortable next to industrial-grade caffeine supplies—like somehow the sterile chaos was home because she was in it.

“You look tired,” Oscar said gently, eyes tracing the outline of her face. “Didn’t sleep again?”

Y/N chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Five emergencies, two shifts back to back, and a coffee that tastes like burnt socks. But hey—I’m alive.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You do more in a day than I do in a whole race weekend.”

“You fly at 300 kilometers an hour,” she teased. “Your job is literal speed.”

Oscar smiled. ���Yeah, but when I crash, there are teams ready to fix me. You? You’re the one holding people together while the world falls apart.”

Y/N paused, her gaze softening. “That’s the thing, though. I never know when it's all going to cave in. And I’ve learned to trust myself to stay calm. To respond. To keep going. But with you…”

Oscar met her eyes. “With me?”

She hesitated, then said quietly, “You’re always flying off somewhere. Circuits, interviews, continents. I know you love me. I never doubt that. But sometimes… sometimes I wonder if I’m just the pause between laps.”

Oscar leaned forward, resting his hand gently over hers. “You’re not the pause, Y/N. You’re the reason I come back. The place I exhale. The world can spin as fast as it wants—but you’re my constant.”

Her eyes glistened, but she held his gaze. “So you trust me to be here. And I need to trust that you won’t just disappear when the race gets bigger than us.”

“I promise,” he said softly. “I won’t vanish. I’ll always find my way back to wherever you are—even if it’s by the coffee machine in a place that smells vaguely like antiseptic and courage.”

Halfway through the meal, Y/N glances at him and says softly, “You kind of make things…feel lighter.”

Oscar taps a plastic fork against his water bottle. “You make things feel real.”

The fluorescent lighting flickers for a moment overhead. The hospital is still. Y/N leans back and watches him with a look that could break every stopwatch in the paddock.

And somehow, without trying, they both know: this moment—this quiet, stolen hour—is the kind of pit stop people spend their whole lives chasing.

Heart Rate: 180 (But Only for Y/N)

Oscar Piastri sits at Y/N’s station, legs stretched casually under the desk like it’s his new pit box. He’s wearing her lanyard—pink, slightly frayed, adorned with tiny strawberry stickers—around his neck, just because she left it dangling on the desk and he thought it was “cute.” His fingers move steadily as he scribbles note after note on pastel sticky pads.

“Keep going, superstar. You’re doing amazing.”

“Patient heart rate: stable. Mine around you? Uncharted.”

“Warning: contents of this drawer contain nurse with dangerously adorable energy. Proceed with care.”

He grins to himself, stacking the notes into a tidy pile just as a voice chirps out behind him.

“So… you’re the Oscar Piastri?”

The rogue nurse appears, radiating self-declared main character energy and a spritz of overscented vanilla perfume. She leans against the counter, clipboard held like a flirtation prop, hair tucked dramatically behind one ear.

Oscar barely glances up. “Hmm?”

“I mean, I’ve seen you on TV, but you look even better in real life. Tall, athletic. You must be great with… handling things under pressure.”

Oscar blinks once. Then goes back to writing.

Enter: Patient #1. A grandpa with a cane and an aggressive limp approaches. “Young man! Are you the one who left a packet of biscuits at the reception?”

“No,” Oscar says politely, handing him the staff fridge sticker Y/N custom-designed. “But you should check if the snacks haven’t been claimed.”

The nurse laughs awkwardly. “So… do you ever race in places like Milan? I’ve always wanted to go. I speak a little Italian.” She says it with a wink that could cause a corneal injury.

Oscar does not react. Patient #2 hobbles over—this time, it’s a teenage boy mid-emotional meltdown. “Mr. Race Guy! My little brother just bit the nurse’s sleeve and then tried to diagnose himself with werewolf syndrome!”

Oscar blinks again. “That sounds... serious?”

The rogue nurse fumes quietly while Oscar walks the boy to a nearby waiting area and directs someone to call pediatrics. He returns and resumes note-writing like this is a pit stop and he’s back on track.

“So...” she tries again. “Got any plans after this? Maybe dinner? Drinks?”

Patient #3 interrupts with vengeance. “EXCUSE ME. Has anyone seen my husband? He’s in Room 4 but he keeps wandering around asking for beans.”

Oscar, without looking up, points toward the hallway. “Left at the vending machine, ma’am. I think he was trying to bargain with it.”

At this point, the rogue nurse is visibly deflating. Oscar’s not rude—he’s just clinically uninterested. She's talking to a wall that’s really, really good at time trials.

But when Y/N finally rounds the corner, sweat-slicked and radiant in her scrubs, Oscar’s eyes light up like the checkered flag’s waving just for her. He stands immediately, walks over, gently takes her hand—and kisses her. Not dramatic, not performative, just honest.

The rogue nurse visibly short-circuits.

Oscar kisses Y/N like he’s declaring allegiance. Like he belongs to her, because he does. In that moment, between broken printers and the beep of a monitor, he makes it clear: he’s hers. All biceps, devotion, and no spare attention for anyone else.

“You okay?” Y/N asks, blinking up at him.

“Better now,” Oscar whispers. “And I left you 14 pep talks in sticky note form. But honestly, I think I need one. I missed you.”

The rogue nurse slinks away, bumping into Patient #4—who’s loudly telling someone he once wrestled a goat in a karaoke bar. No one looks up.

And somewhere in the chaos of interrupted flirting and snack-stealing toddlers, the hospital settles back into rhythm. Because Oscar Piastri? He's officially off the market.

Dinner with a Side of Matchmaking

Room 312 had a soft hum of cartoons playing on low volume. The small patient—eight-year-old Bella—was tucked under her pastel unicorn blanket, a crown of messy curls bouncing atop her head. Her parents sat close by, visibly tired but full of affection, doting on her with gentle words and shared smiles. Bella had been in for two weeks. The sparkle in her eyes had dulled—until she saw them.

Oscar and Y/N.

She first noticed when Oscar came by with a coffee for Y/N, casually leaning against the doorway with an unmistakable softness in his eyes. Y/N rolled hers playfully and tried to brush past him—but he caught her wrist and spun her in a dramatic twirl, right there in the hallway. Bella gasped so loudly the nurse beside her jumped.

That afternoon, Bella waited for Y/N to finish her rounds. When she spotted her in the doorway, she grinned brightly, clutching her stuffed llama.

“Ate Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

Y/N froze mid-step. Oscar, who was fixing the wheel of a squeaky gurney nearby, turned with a smirk. “Technically, I’m hers,” he said.

Bella clapped. “I knew it! I want you both to come to dinner with me. Outside. By the big grass patch. Mama said I can have a picnic dinner tonight, and I want you two to come. It’s sad here sometimes, and you’re like happy people. Also, I think you’re perfect. Like in movies.”

Y/N blinked, touched. “Bella, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said today.”

Oscar crouched down beside her bed. “You’re officially our event planner now. Fried chicken okay with you?”

Bella nodded solemnly. “Only if there’s rice.”

The Grassy Patch of Healing

At 6:15 sharp, Oscar laid out the picnic blanket like a man on a mission. It was covered in frogs. Of course it was—he borrowed it from Y/N’s car where she stored “emergency cute things.”

They had buckets of crispy fried chicken, rice, mini fruit cups, and chocolate milk in cartons. Oscar sat cross-legged on one end, expertly peeling a clementine for Bella while Y/N spread napkins like she was organizing a Michelin-starred garden event.

Bella arrived holding her IV pole like it was a royal staff, her parents a few paces behind, smiling as she led the way.

She sat between Oscar and Y/N, nestled snugly like she belonged right there. “I usually eat dinner alone,” she said softly. “This is nice.”

Oscar handed her a perfectly wrapped drumstick. “You’re the guest of honor.”

They talked about everything—Bella’s favorite cartoon, Oscar’s weird driving suit, how Y/N once accidentally paged the wrong doctor and got a reply from someone two floors away who thought she was flirting.

Bella laughed so hard she almost spilled her chocolate milk.

“So, if you get married,” she said between bites, “can I come to the wedding?”

Oscar glanced at Y/N, eyes gleaming. “If there is one, you’ll be flower girl. But only if you promise not to upstage us.”

Y/N smiled and pressed a fry into Bella’s palm. “And you get two bouquets.”

They watched as Bella leaned back against her llama plushie, sun slowly dipping behind the building and casting a soft gold across the patch of lawn. Her parents were sitting nearby under a tree, watching quietly. It felt peaceful—the kind of stillness that only comes when laughter has soothed something aching.

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” Bella asked.

“We’ll bring spaghetti,” Y/N whispered.

Oscar looked at Y/N like she hung the moon. “With garlic bread. I’m in.”

The moment lingered. It wasn’t just dinner. It was chicken shared between people drawn together not by blood, but by kindness. A soft promise in the form of sticky fingers and too much dipping sauce. Bella beamed, surrounded by two people who weren’t hers—but in that hour, made her feel like she belonged anyway.

And that little patch of grass behind the ER became her favorite spot in the whole hospital.

Speed Limits Don’t Apply to Love

The hospital room was quieter than usual. Bella, surrounded by her colored pencils and a small stack of printer paper, was working with all the concentration of a seasoned wedding planner who also happened to be in the third grade.

Y/N walked in with Oscar beside her, both fresh off an afternoon shift and still smelling faintly of hand sanitizer and vending machine snacks. Bella looked up, beaming.

“I finished it!” she declared, holding up a hand-drawn wedding invitation.

Oscar leaned down like he was receiving a royal decree. “You did?”

Bella nodded seriously. “I Googled what weddings need. Then I drew it. Because you’re leaving tomorrow and I want you to remember that you belong with her. Even if you’re in another country.”

Y/N's breath hitched as she took the invitation gently. The paper was filled with crayon flowers, two stick figures with hearts above their heads (one holding a bouquet, the other a checkered flag), and cursive that looked like it had been written by someone just learning cursive—because it had.

It read:

"You are invited to the wedding of Oscar + Ate Y/N Love sponsored by chocolate milk & chicken Location: Wherever there are hearts. Dress code: Happy"

There was a big sun in the corner. And under it, Bella had scribbled:

"RSVP: Just hug each other a lot."

Oscar was too stunned to speak. Then he gently pulled a folded Polaroid from his wallet—one of him and Y/N sitting on the hospital lawn with Bella between them, chicken crumbs scattered across the blanket. He tucked Bella’s invitation behind it, pressed it flat, and zipped it into his travel case.

“I’m taking this to Austria,” he said. “It’s going to be my lucky charm.”

Race Weekend: Rain Tires and Romance

Three days later, in the paddock, chaos brewed. Fans were screaming. Media buzzed. Lando Norris was filming a PR video with Oscar for their team’s social channels, joking about pre-race rituals.

“What’s your weirdest good luck charm?” Lando asked, mic in hand.

Oscar, mid-interview, reached into his race suit pocket and pulled out a small folded paper. “This,” he said with a quiet smile.

The camera zoomed in as he unfolded Bella’s sketch, now slightly creased and worn from travel. “A little girl made it. She's one of the bravest people I know. She shipped me and my girlfriend harder than the internet does.”

Lando laughed. “Wait—this is an actual wedding invitation?”

“Yup. And she told me to remember who I belong to when I’m away. So…” He pulled out the Polaroid next, showing the trio on the lawn. “I carry these everywhere.”

The comment section of the video exploded within minutes:

@carbsforlando: OKAY OSCAR IS SOFT 😭 @YNobsessed: THE INVITE. THE PICTURE. I’M NOT OKAY. @piastriwife: Bella is now the most powerful child on earth

Oscar didn’t check his socials that night. He was too busy FaceTiming Y/N from his hotel room, holding the paper up to the screen.

“She’s a genius,” Y/N laughed, brushing her hair back.

Oscar smiled into the screen, eyes soft with admiration. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said gently, “but even through a glitchy video call, you still manage to take my breath away.”

Y/N laughed quietly, warmth blooming in her chest. “You’re just saying that because I’m far away.”

He shook his head, his voice sincere. “I’m saying it because I miss you. Because I think about you nonstop. And because seeing your face—even for a few minutes—makes everything else fade.”

Y/N bit her lip, her own voice barely a whisper. “I miss you too. So much, it feels like a part of me's missing when you're not here.”

Oscar leaned closer to the camera, like it could bridge the distance. “We’ll be together soon. But until then… I’ll keep falling for you, screen freeze and all.”

As the call stretched into quiet smiles and soft laughter, time didn’t matter. Because love—even pixelated and distant—was still beating strong between them.

[xreader1989]

Science of Attraction (part three): Johnny Storm

Johnny Storm x fem!scientist!reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Summary: You wanted to hate Johnny Storm. He distracted you and was constantly under your skin. But was it really that, or can you just not face your feelings?

Warnings: implications of sex

Author’s Note: one more part after this! thank you all so much for the love!

Part 1 Part 2

07:52 A.M.

You hadn’t slept in about 22 hours. You hadn’t even changed clothes. The launch prep bay was freezing, but your palms were sweating.

The suits were completed about 12 hours prior, now it was just making sure this ship could get these crazy four genetically modified astronauts to space and back successfully.

Somewhere between double-checking the radiation shield and Reed’s launch calculations, the reality had sunk in.

They were going to space.

He was going to space.

And not just their typical research trip, not that those go smoothly either, they were going to face a planet evaporating alien and his sexy silver side kick.

You stood near the railing of the upper platform overlooking the shuttle, surrounded by engineers and techs reviewing data and fuel levels. The chatter around you was low and focused, everyone moving like the weight of the planet sat on their shoulders.

Because it did.

Reed was below, talking Sue through their final plan. She gave him a sharp nod and patted her stomach like she was reminding herself why she was doing this. Ben sat silently near the ramp, helmet under one arm, the other hand curled into a stone fist resting on his thigh.

And then—Johnny walked in.

Helmet in one hand, fire in his eyes, that easy, insufferable swagger in his step like he wasn’t about to hurl himself into the stars with a low chance of coming back.

You didn’t want to react. Didn’t want to look at him and feel your chest tighten.

But your heart never listened to your brain when Johnny Storm was around.

He walked straight over, eyes scanning your face.

“You look like hell,” he said, leaning his elbow on the railing beside you.

You kept your eyes on the shuttle. “Good morning to you too princess, and you’re welcome. I only worked all night to keep your ass from vaporizing.”

He smiled at that.

God, it would be easier if he didn’t look at you like that and if you didn’t care so much.

“Aw, I didn’t ask for that,” he said. “But I do appreciate it. Really.”

You glanced at him then—just enough to meet his eyes.

And there it was again. That flicker of something behind the grin. Something you both refused to say.

You turned back to your tablet.

“Don’t worry. I triple-checked the suits myself. Even yours. You know. Just in case you forgot to turn on the heat setting again like last time.”

He laughed. “Okay, that was one time. And it was funny.”

“You nearly cooked yourself like a rotisserie chicken, Johnny. Not to mention the suit literally disintegrated and you came back naked.”

He leaned closer. “But a hot rotisserie chicken, right? And it was a good view, nonetheless.”

You didn't smile. Not this time.

The teasing faded from his face when he realized you weren’t playing along.

You shifted, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Are you really not going to say anything?”

His brow furrowed. “About what?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “About this. About us. About the fact that you might not come back and we’ve spent the last few months pretending like this is nothing.” Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the emotions, or the really good sex you had with him about 32 hours prior, but you felt bold. You didn’t have the energy to keep pretending this “casual” thing was just that right now.

He froze for half a second—just long enough to give himself away.

“I—I’m not good at this,” he finally said. “You know that. And I don’t want to say something I can’t take back if... if something goes wrong up there.”

“So you’re afraid of being honest in case you die?” you snapped, more bitter than you intended. “You’d rather leave it unresolved?”

He looked down, rubbing his neck like he wanted to disappear.

“It’s not like that,” he said quietly. “I just don’t want to make a mess of this. Or make you wait for something that might not happen.”

“You already messed me up, Johnny,” you said, barely louder than a whisper. “I guess it was just all in my head then, you said casual, no feelings. I should’ve believed you.”

His jaw tensed.

And then, in the worst possible moment, Reed’s voice came through over the comms.

“Final boarding call. All crew to shuttle bay. Launch window closes in ten.”

Johnny shifted on his feet. He looked at you then, and for a second, it seemed like he might finally say it. Like the words were sitting right on the tip of his tongue.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he gave you a crooked half-smile and leaned in just enough to press a kiss to your temple. Familiar. Heartbreaking.

You closed your eyes, swallowing the tears you felt building.

But when you opened them, he was already walking away. Sue came over and hugged you, “We’ll see you soon, Doc. Two weeks. Tops.” You hugged her back and smiled, unable to find the words. You pressed a hand on her belly and gave her a small smile. Ben gave you a sheepish wave, “Talk to you once we’re in the sky! I’ll get us all home.” He winked and turned towards the shuttle with Sue. Reed stepped up to you and looked you in the eyes, “I know you’re against this, but you know I can’t do any of this without you. We’ll be back soon, in time for the next family dinner.” He squeezed your bicep and turned to join his wife and best friend. Johnny was already on the shuttle, buckled in, looking up. Ugh.

The launch countdown was a blur.

You stood at the command console beside the lead tech as the rest of the tower team buzzed around you. Reed’s voice crackled over the comms. Ben confirmed all systems go. Sue was steady as ever. And Johnny looked straight ahead avoiding everyone and everything.

“Radiation shield stable. Trajectory aligned,” one of the techs reported.

“Final systems lock. Ready for launch.”

You pressed your headset against your ear and spoke. “Team, you are clear for launch on my mark. Good luck.”

There was a long pause.

Then Johnny’s voice came through, low and clear. “See ya soon, Doc.”

Not I’ll miss you.

Not Thank you.

Not I love you.

Just a goodbye laced with everything he didn’t say. “Launching in 30 seconds”. You looked at the control board, laser focused trying to not think about how embarrassed you felt for basically begging him to confess his love for you. You swallowed hard. Why did it have to be him? The one to finally capture your heart. There were other men, even a few women, but no one ever lit a fire in you like he did (pun intended). I mean what the hell were you thinking putting yourself out there like that.

Ten.
Your heart was thudding in your ears.

Nine.
They were leaving. And he hadn’t said a damn thing.

Eight.
Maybe it was your fault too. You could’ve pushed harder. Told him again, even said the words yourself.

Seven.
But you were tired.

Six.
I mean, what the hell were you thinking?

Five.
You blinked back the sting in your eyes.

Four.
Don’t cry here. Not in front of everyone.

Three.

“Please come back,” you whispered under your breath. No one heard it but you.

Two.

Your hands clenched around the edge of the console.

One.

Ignition.

The shuttle roared to life and disappeared into the sky, swallowed by clouds.

You stood there long after the sound faded, until an engineer gently touched your shoulder and said, “They’re gone, launch successful.”

Gone.

And he didn’t say it. You didn’t even say it.

You returned to your office in a haze, sat in your chair, and stared at the blinking cursor on your monitor. Watching their position float higher and higher into the atmosphere.

You pulled out your journal—a worn little thing you never let anyone see—and wrote the words you needed to say.

"I love you. You coward. I hope you come back so I can say it again, louder. Or maybe punch you. Or both." You wrote the date on the top and closed the notebook.

Johnny’s POV:

Another successful launch, thanks to you. He adjusted his helmet and flipped up the visor now that they were floating in space. He sighed deeply. Sue was watching him from the corner of her eye, almost sensing what happened just moments before they left the planet to save humanity.

The stars were too quiet.

Johnny Storm sat back in his seat, the hum of the shuttle fading into the background as the launch’s adrenaline drained from his system. The Earth had slipped behind them, replaced by endless black—and a growing knot in his stomach that no amount of his typical cockiness could shake loose.

“Doc seemed upset” Sue said breaking the silence, Ben nodded in agreement. “Probably stressed and tired.” Johnny stated knowing it was his fault you were upset, but wanting them to drop the subject. Sue hummed knowingly but let it be.

Across from him, Ben was adjusting his harness, grumbling about the tight suit. Reed was already plugged into the ship’s diagnostic systems, muttering numbers and recalculating their course, not focused on any of them. Sue glanced away from Johnny and out the window, her hand resting on her stomach like it might tether her to home.

But Johnny’s eyes were now closed.

And his mind was nowhere near the stars.

You.
That was all he could think about. Your face. The way your voice cracked when you asked if he was really not going to say anything. The way you tried to keep your expression neutral but your eyes betrayed you—like they always did when you were trying not to feel too much, your beautiful eyes.

He should’ve told you.

He should’ve said more than “See ya soon, Doc.” That wasn’t a goodbye. That wasn’t even the truth.

He loved you.

It hit him right there—thousands of miles above Earth. Above everything he knew. Everything except you.

He loved the way you never let him get away with anything. The way you held your own around Reed, never once intimidated by the fact that he could bend the laws of physics to his will. The way you always smelled of lavender. And the way you looked at Johnny like he wasn’t just fire.

He hadn’t felt human in a long time.

With you, he did.

And now you were down there, probably back in your lab, drinking cold coffee and overanalyzing every inch of the launch telemetry like it was a puzzle you could solve—because that’s how you kept yourself from spiraling.

He wondered if you were mad at him.
He hoped you were.

Because that would mean you cared as much as he did.

He sighed, finally opening his eyes and catching his reflection in the shuttle window. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t see the charming, confident Human Torch. He saw a guy running from things he didn’t know how to face. A guy who could laugh off any danger—except the danger of letting someone in.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, letting his thoughts settle into the silence of the cabin.

Why didn’t I say it?
Why couldn’t I just tell her the truth?

He’d told himself it was to protect you. That if he didn’t make it back, it would be easier if he kept things casual, like you both agreed upon when you started this whole thing. He didn’t want to leave you grieving someone who'd made promises he couldn’t keep.

But that was a lie. A selfish, cowardly lie. When this all started months ago, he didn’t want to be too close to you emotionally, it’s like under all of it he knew that you would have him wrapped around your finger if he let you in. So he kept it casual, sex only. Until the sex turned into sleepovers, which turned into staying up all night talking, which turned into breakfast in bed. It all snowballed so fast he doesn’t even remember before you were there.

The truth? He was terrified.

Because loving someone and living his lifestyle meant it wasn’t just about him anymore, it was about you. And he’d already lost too much.

His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke, barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry…”

Ben looked over. “You say something, flame brain?” Catching Sue’s attention, she looked over trying to read Johnny’s face, but she didn’t recognize what he was going through.

Johnny blinked. “Huh? No. Just… talking to myself.”

Ben gave him a look, then shrugged and went back to his systems check.

Johnny leaned back again, staring at the ceiling of the shuttle like it might suddenly offer him the answers.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated in his head.
“For not saying it. For not being brave. For not giving you what you deserve.”

And still—despite everything—he hoped you’d wait for him.

Because the moment this mission was over, if he survived it…

He was going to come back.
And this time—he was going to say it. The scientist in Reed’s lab is the one to capture the human torch’s heart.

tags: @walleloveseve

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

Was your 5k budget enough for your trip?? I'd really like to go to Japan myself one day but have a hard time wrapping my head around budgeting stuff, so I appreciate you sharing however much youre comfortable with :)

The 5k budget was enough for my half of the trip 😭 I paid for an Expedia bundle of plane tickets and accommodations, otherwise it would have ONLY covered the plane tickets! Even tiny uncomfortable economy seats are stupid expensive, and I shelled out a bit more to avoid a 9 hour layover in Chicago.

I did a bundle of hotels and flights that knocked the price down significantly, and then 🐻 spent roughly the same amount on food, experiences, transit, and souvenirs.

If I had to recommend a budget for a two week Japan trip, I’d recommend 10k for a couple or 6k for a single person, especially since you’d have to store luggage frequently if you don’t have help from someone else. If you want to do lots of shopping obviously bring more money because it’s very easy to spend a lot on clothes or merch. We spent almost $150 on a single trip to animate because 🐻 found so many art books he wanted and I grabbed several manga that I already had in English. And I spent about $90 on a HUGE suitcase from Donki because we needed an extra just for souvenirs (suitcases are pretty cheap apparently).

I also never pay extra for checked baggage because I can fit a lot of both our clothes in a single suitcase and just use coin laundries. always check if your hotel has coin laundry because fancypants laundry service is expensive! we had a wardrobe emergency and no access to nearby coin laundry in hakone and had to shell out like $170 for laundry service, but our last hotel had a coin laundry for ¥600 per load, which was a bit spensiv because “one load” in those machines amounted to a single day’s outfit for both of us usually, or else it wouldn’t dry all the way and we’d have to pay another ¥100 for an extra half hour of dry time. So in that hotel we did laundry every morning just to make sure we didn’t bring home a shitload of filthy sweaty clothes. But that’s better than overpacking honestly!

Transit is comparatively inexpensive but we spent about ¥2000 per day because we went all over the place constantly with no real plan in mind most days. Try to have a general idea of where you want to be and give yourself maybe a two main ideas in the same general area per day, three tops, and then follow in space with “that looks cool let’s check it out for a bit”. Overplanning just makes things stressful. We did roughly 2/3 of all the things I wanted to do, and it was still enjoyable!

I also needed to get kind of a lot of massages in addition to nightly hot bath soaking because of my sore muscles and walking on my fucked up cripply leg all day long. It definitely helped though! And thank god for my chubrub shorts or I would have had raw red thighs.

TL;DR: no, as a couple 5k is NOT enough for two weeks in Japan unless you’re solo on a TIGHT budget and will likely only cover the flight, definitely take more, bundle flights with hotels to save money, try to get discounted transit cards, make detailed plans with tons of room for flexibility, and if you have money left over then definitely splurge on massages because you WILL need them if you’re not normally the athletic walky type.

[mswrath]

It was days like this that reminded me of why I hated this place. The cold, suffocating walls of the Manor felt even more claustrophobic. It held more than enough space for everyone except for me. As if the walls themselves have long rejected me much like their residents.

I resist the bile rising in my throat, the nausea kicking up again. Getting an arm shoved in my stomach wasn't doing me any good. The rearranging organs were cool to read about first until I got my second-hand experience with them. 10 out of 10, do not fucking recommend.

As if the nausea wasn't enough, the anxiety inducing noises downstairs weren't helping. Alfred ought to call me downstairs for breakfast anytime now, and I always lacked the conviction to turn him down. I've never been good at standing my ground anyway. Not when I'm myself, at least.

Fuck, Is that Jason? What the fuck did they blackmail him with?

It was almost embarrassing how long I've been standing in front of my own door, contemplating going downstairs. If Ash was here, he would've kicked my ass; telling me to stop being a pussy and face them. 'Noone cares as much as you think.'

No matter how much I wanted to take his advice, I couldn't. Ash would've been right. They didn't care. But Dick practically looking through me and and Tim's disregarding looks sounded like a nightmare right now and everyone's perfect faces might make me rip mine's off this time.

Alfred's knock on the door had me scrambling for a response. Which he accepted as his footsteps finally faltered, moving towards downstairs.

I'd learned to join the table earlier, that way that awkward silence as I walked in the middle of everyone chatting wouldn't happen. They get to ignore me, I get to ignore them. Easy.

I don't know when or how it happened, but I somehow managed to become the freak in a family of crime fighting vigilantes with severe parental issues. That deserves a metal, If you ask me.

Alfred offers me a 'good morning' paired with a soft smile, only easing a small part of my anxiety. I try to offer a warm smile and polite response in return, I definitely looked like an idiot while doing so. I sigh.

I give a acknowledging nod to whoever entered, trying to be as polite as possible. Ignoring how I got almost zero acknowledgement from the rest.

I try to ignore the thoughts lurking in the back of my minds, that constant underlying fear of everyone's gaze heavy on me. The only good thing that has happened today was because of Damian and his preference for black tea. He'd called British tea a 'disgrace on the mouth' and since then Alfred has kept a stash of black tea, making it everyday for breakfast. Thank fuck for Damian.

I sipped on my tea, disregarding the churning feeling in my stomach. I opted on eating only a couple bites of my food, since I felt full. Have felt full since I ate an alien rock on some planet a month ago.

To my defense, It looked way too pretty to just be seating on the ground and it looked eatable enough. Plus, crunchy too. I giggle in my head, a small smile creeping on my face as I sip on my tea.

Before I know it, Bruce had joined the table and breakfast had begun. The family talk amongst themselves, Dick teased Damian while Tim grins at Damian's furious face, Jason already ready to hold him back for whenever he's going to lunge at Tim. Steph excitedly explained something to Cassandra while she attentively listened, offering short responses in engagement.

Maybe I was never social enough, or maybe they just never cared enough to listen. But this Manor didn't hear me and neither did the people living inside. They didn't hear nor listen. But for that I was grateful to them.

It was easier to be invisible in their sight. They made it easier to not be a part of their family altogether. For all I care, I already have a family. Even though It's gone, It's still mine and would be the only one I'd ever have.

I wasn't part of Bruce Wayne's family and I had no wish to.

Guys, this is my first attempt at writing something after years. So this is bound to not be good. Also, please take into consideration that English is not my first language and I wrote this instead of sleeping. Take it easy on me.

[jansnoopy]

https://www.tumblr.com/jansnoopy/776592143539142656/what-prompted-this-was-i-think-matteo-would-be-a

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, post Matteo lowkey soft launching his retirement, and I’ve been clocking in overtime at the rpf factory in order to not fling myself into the sun about it.

I do think in a lot of ways Jannik winning Wimbledon is the final straw for Matteo. This isn’t to say he doesn’t love him, but there’s just so much Matteo can take. He never really expected Jannik. He had been ready for musetti, the next rising young Italian to take his spot. Someone who could do more, reach more than he ever could, but he never expected it to be jannik.

When they first met Jannik was the cute kid with hero worship. And then somewhere along the way Jannik became one of the most important people in his life. And Matteo tries so hard to be happy for Jannik when he wins his first gs, the thing Matteo could never do. Tries hard not to think about how jannik’s names will be remembered in history as his is slowly becoming irrelevant. And then Jannik gets pregnant, and Matteo is simultaneously overjoyed and wrecked about it. He knows what it’s like to be forced away from tennis. All these injuries that made it hard to do the one thing he loved for so long. He would never ask Jannik to do that. And so even though he doesn’t want this child, he expects Jannik to want to get an abortion, to put tennis first, but he doesn’t. He wants to family with Matteo. Looking back one might say that this was the beginning of the end. Matteo could never wrap his mind around how easy it was for Jannik to walk away from tennis for that amount of time, but maybe it was different for gs winners. Maybe Matteo would never get it because of that. Matteo wants with all of his heart to not be jealous, but he is.

And then Jannik comes back after having their baby and he’s just as good as before. He makes it to the rg final, and Matteo absolutely hates himself to feel anytime of pleasure in watching Jannik lose, but there’s a part of him that feels good knowing Jannik is just a little bit human. But then Wimbledon comes around and Matteo watches from the couch, having pulled out bc of injured yet again, as Jannik wins and god it’s just so hard watching someone you love more than life’s itself get everything you could only dream about.

He waits until for at least a week to pass before ending things.

wait sorry im latejdnwb BUT ANON.

NO BUT OMG. the Concept of envying the person you love. like i know one of the main points of sinnettini is the subverting of expectations by matteo, where he Is supposed to be jealous of the person that’s soon replacing him but he is not and loves him anyway, but that’s still gotta sting.

maybe with other slams matteo tries to sorta ‘lie’ to himself that he wasn’t reaching those finals anyway (even if he knows he can reach those finals), but i agree w/ u that the wimbledon final is the nail in the coffin. it cements the idea that maybe he isn’t for tennis after all I JUST HURT MY FEELINGS? but you’re so big brained anon omg. BUT DONT LEAVE JANI WHILE HE’S STILL POST-PARTUM ARE YOU NUTS?

[saltynsassy31]

Frye Fest - Final Countdown

<- Previous - Part 13 - Next ->

[13/20]

🪐🍮Team Saturday/Custard (JP)🍮🪐

Splatfest 17-02-2024

[Master Post]

[elise-flaren]

look, im a 14 year old who has had a really bad recent health decline. i'm not comfortable with calling myself disabled, not because of internalized ableism (i do have quite a lot of it, but i've been working on it recently), but because im fucking scared. i am so fucking scared of this fucking disease killing me before i hit 50. i'm scared of this pain making me what to off myself more than i already do. i'm terrified of being ill, or getting worse. i'm petrified of everyone i love suddenly realizing that i won't last, and was never going to, and giving up on me.

i'm scared that meds might not be able to help. it makes me start shaking every single time i remember that normies just think they'll live to 80-90 easy. it makes me so jealous and yet relieved at the same time to know that if i do ever settle down with someone (preferably my spouse) i won't be able to grow really old with them. i'll probably just die on them. i'll probably leave them, and all of my friends, long before i should. as of right now estimates for the kids born in 2020-2025 should make it to their 60's. well guess what? i was born ten years before than. as well as other things i'm looking at 40-60 years tops.

i don't want to call myself disabled because i'm horrified of what that word means. i'm so scared of it, i'm uncomfortable when someone tries to call me disabled, seeing the word disabilities on my 5o4 is the worst horror movie for me.

why the fuck would i want to call myself disabled if that's what disabled means for me? why would i want to accept and give in to that?

i fully realize that i am disabled, but that doesn't mean that i want to be called it.

I saw a video that said 1 in 4 Americans have a disability, but of that 1 in 4 only 25% identify as disabled. More people need disability awareness!! More people need to see disability as a neutral thing. Diabetes, Ulcerative Colitis, and more are all often seen as ‘sick’, or ‘ill’, or a ‘health challenge’. They are disabilities! You can call yourself disabled!

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[flowersforthemachines]

Rook Participates in Banter at the Lighthouse - Mod

You know how there are banters where Rook can talk, but for some reason Rook can only react to those banters in the field, and not at the Lighthouse despite standing in the companions' near proximity?

Well, with this mod, your Rook will always say their piece regardless of where they are!

Here is a small showcase:

Grab it from download link above (◕ᴗ◕✿)

[arttsuka]

Inho should have kept the baby instead of just leaving it to Junho

[torchickentacos]

i will always shout praises of bi4bi but given recent discourse I feel the need to say that I love bi4het too! I just love bisexuality in general in its many forms, and anyone who only likes it when it's 'queer enough' for them is biphobic. Bisexuals should be able to bring their LaMe CiShEt BoYfRiEnD to pride without being made to feel like spectators and outsiders to their own event.

[finniestoncrane]

my thing is, i want to talk to people. i want to be good at socialising. but i've never really had much practice, so i don't know how? i don't know how to carry on a conversation. it makes me nervous and anxious and makes my stomach hurt and it tires me out. i would love to have a constant back and forth. it'd be swell lmao

unfortunately. i cannot and it's confusing. i want to talk, but i can't. and i also don't want to? mental illness cocktail gets in the way

like earlier i was going to speak to people, i'd typed a couple messages out!! but i figured they wouldn't want to talk to me which is fine i know that's likely just the anxiety. so then i thought "i know, mitigate the risk!! i'll ask if people want to chat about a specific topic with me so they have to opt in" and then panicked because that would mean people would talk to me? which is what i wanted? LMAO

confusing and irritating, so i made a meme