#☕'s writing

[yourreality-mp3]

Obviously, Yuri is a very shy person and Natsuki is a very outspoken person and they have clashing views or at least...they used to.

Their views used to clash and they'd get into very messy fights, one evening, after club, even nearly escalating to physical with Yuri getting so uncharacteristically upset that she bashed her fists down on a desk and shockingly, startled Natsuki into complete silence.

"Story Telling." - A Natsuri (Natsuki x Yuri) fanfic by yourreality-mp3

Part 1- "Conflict."

(Before the masterlist comes out, to read more; go to my blog and press on the tag "story telling" it will lead you to every part)

Both girls froze immediately until Natsuki gradually broke down crying and yelled for Yuri to leave her alone. Scared but not wanting to escalate things any further, Yuri did as she was asked and walked around the second floor of the school for about 10 minutes, overthinking and afraid that she had caused some terrible downfall to the club and that she hurt Natsuki.

Calming from her panicked state, she slowly opened the club room door and seen Natsuki hunched over with the quiet sound of her sobbing resounding in the room. "Natsuki?" Yuri slowly stepped toward her and got on her knees, "Is it okay if I-" Yuri began to ask, hands stopping just before reaching Natsuki's shoulders, Natsuki reluctantly nods and so, Yuri places her hands on the crumpled up Natsuki's shoulders. Natsuki's balled fists of anger and sadness uncurled as she moved herself to sit up on her knees.

"I'm fine." Natsuki spoke shakily, cold tears being wiped by Yuri's long fingers. "I'm sor-" Yuri went to apologize but Natsuki just shook her head slowly. "It's okay. It's my fault anyway." Natsuki's body shuffles and she rests her hands on her face, "I was stupid to have broken down in the first place." Her voice seemed to be getting more clear.

"You also don't need to help me, I don't need anyone's help." Natsuki slowly rose up and walked toward a window, wiping her cheek stained with tears and taking a breath, Yuri slowly followed. "You know," Yuri rubs her arm, "It's okay to want help." Yuri walks toward her slowly, Natsuki seems to ponder.

"I don't..." Natsuki's eyes water and she grips the window cill. "Fine!" She shouts, trying to avoid the tears that are already falling, "Fine." She repeats, somberly. Yuri makes her way to Natsuki's side and they stare out the window at the golden setting sun. "It's getting late." Yuri comments, Natsuki nods.

"I don't really want to talk about it just yet." Natsuki rubs her arm, feeling the several bandaids underneath her uniform, at one point feeling at a bruise and wincing. "That's okay." Yuri says, "It's hard to want to talk about something that hurts you, especially if you've never said anything about it before." Neither of the girls look at each other but Natsuki reluctantly hits her pinky against Yuris' and they interlock.

Before the doors to the school locked, the two girls exited with their pinkies interlocked. "I don't really want to head home too quickly." Natsuki mentioned after a long bout of silence. "Let's take the scenic route then." Yuri began to walk Natsuki through the bushy path that led to a park filled with beautiful large trees and a garden filled with flowers. It was beautiful at this time in the evening and it was a place that Yuri would visit frequently and it always managed to calm her nerves.

Yuri brought Natsuki to a bench and they both sat, "Did you bring a book you haven't read yet?" Yuri asked, fishing around her bag for the 4th installment in a book series she was passionate about. "Nah, I've read practically my whole collection." Natsuki puts her bag on her lap and opens it, "That's what makes me a pro manga connoisseur!" She giggles triumphantly and Yuri smiles gently at the sight of her acting like her usual self and even blushes a bit at Natsuki's use of a word she'd clearly learnt from Yuri.

"But reading the same stuff is kinda bumming me out." Natsuki adds, Yuri thinks for a moment before remembering how Sayori left all her notes in the first volume of the book series Yuri was about to read the 4th volume for and digs in her bag, "I know it's probably very boring to you but I have the first book of my series if you want to read that." Yuri fishes it out and rests it on her lap.

Natsuki looks down at the dusty old novel filled with coloured sticky notes and cringes at it, knowing it'll be too much for her to really want to grasp but then she thought of something. "If I read that, you have to read the first edition of my favourite manga." Natsuki, in turn, fishes around in her own bag and pulls out the first manga in a set; the cover has cute girls in cute outfits, all of it is amazingly eye catching and pastel and it's a little bit intimidating to Yuri at first glance but they both take each other's books.

"Crap!" Natsuki's phone rings and she quickly pulls it from her pocket, breaking Yuri's sudden immersion in the manga and snapping her attention to the other girl. Natsuki walks away, talking into the phone for a minute and then coming back, "I have to head home now." Yuri nods and they both silently put each other's books into their respective bags to continue reading them at home. They each have their bags swung over a shoulder and their pinkies interlocked again as they walk.

About 20 minutes later, they've made it just a block away from Natsuki's place and suddenly, Natsuki wraps her arms around Yuri, "Y-you really should ask before doing touching someone without permission!" Yuri yelps out, but slowly puts her arms around Natsuki and that moment of shock fades. "Thanks." Natsuki mumbles, "Of course." Yuri replies, still timid and just as fast as Natsuki's warm arms were around Yuri, they were gone, leaving Yuri a little dazed as she watched the other girl walk down the sidewalk.

"I'll kill you if a single page gets bent!" Natsuki yells, making Yuri blink and then she realizes Natsuki's manga was still in her bag and reaches out her arm to give it back but then, she stops herself and walks home...

Could this be the start of a budding friendship? Or maybe even, a budding romance?! Find out more next time when the chapters release!

[inkstainsonmysheets]

guys! i need help-what do you guys describe my aesthetic as-like ik the vibes but like i need words 😭 as a writer i'm always embarrased that i can't describe myself with words-like words r supposed to be my thing?! 😭😭🙏🏽

[spilled-coffee-cup]

I just finished my final exam for my forensic medicine/legal medicine class...I think I did okay... (⁠●⁠_⁠_⁠●)👍🏻

[ogatas-beloved]

An Admission with Godot mayb :3 or Baking / Cooking with Wolfwood -@strawbeaniie

I can't promise this is good bc it's my first time writing him BUT here ya go lol

Molly shuffled the bouquet of flowers into its other arm as it pulled the key from its pocket and pushed it into the lock. When it opened the door to the apartment, it smelt the wafting aroma of freshly brewed coffee, which it knew meant that Godot was already home. "How was work?" He mumbled groggily and turned over on the couch as Molly passed him into the kitchen. "Exhausting. As usual." Molly replied, setting the flowers down on the counter, "But these did brighten my mood." "Another gift from that secret admirer of yours, huh?" Godot hopped up from the couch and slid in behind Molly, wrapping his arms around its waist and resting his head against its shoulder, "Someone should tell that guy you're already taken." Molly laughed and rolled its eyes, "Oh, are you jealous?" "Who, me? Of course not! I've got nothing to be jealous of," He placed a kiss against its jaw, "Why would you ever leave a great guy like me?" "So full of yourself." "Who do you think it is?" Molly tapped the countertop with the tips of its fingers, "Hmm…. oh, I don't know. Maybe a coworker." "You think so?" He nuzzled his face into the crook of Molly's neck, tickling it with his facial hair, "I think I know who it is." "And how would you know that?" Molly asked. He spun Molly around in his grip so that it was facing him, "Well… because it's me." Molly poorly feigned surprise, "No way, really?!" He smirked, "You knew it already, didn't you?" Molly thought back to the obvious tells that it was him, first off was his over dramatic acting, and then, of course, the gifts themselves. Today's came with a card attached, on which was written a little love note that likened Molly's eyes to warm cups of coffee on a winter's evening. "Subtly is not exactly your strong suit." He shrugged, "Well, at least I tried." "Are the gifts gonna stop now that I know? I'm gonna miss 'em, they really made my day better." "If you've got it in you to keep pretending you don't know it's me, I think I can manage to keep sending them." "Ohhh nooo, I may neeever find out who's sending these gifts, what a true mystery!" Molly cried, leaning back against the table dejectedly. It peaked an eye open at Godot, "How was that? Too much?" "You nailed it, angel. You should be an actress." Molly grinned and wrapped its arms around his neck, tugging him down and giving him a kiss, "I love you." "I love you, too."

[miunachan]

Ultimate List of Business Ideas ♥ [UPDATED]

Hi ❀ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

Today, after hours of brainstorming and collecting impressions, I proudly present to you the ultimate list of business ideas for the newly released Businesses & Hobbies pack ✧. ✲ﾟ･｡✧･ﾟ

I've categorized the business ideas to provide a more structured overview, because there are so many  (๑❛ʚ❛๑). They are sorted into the following categories: 📌 Service-based small businesses 🍽️ Restaurants & entertainment venues 🛍️ Retail & creative shops 🛠️ Craft & manufacturing businesses 🎭 Fantasy & unconventional businesses.

Also for some of these ideas, I recommend using CC or mods to deepen the immersion, but that's completely up to you — sometimes using your own imagination does the trick too~ The recommended or sometimes necessary packs are included behind the business idea as well as CC/mod recommendation markers ❀✿❀

If you feel like something's missing, please comment your idea(s) and I will happily add them to the list so that the compendium can continue to grow (◕ω◕✿)

My other story ideas ✧. ✲ﾟ･｡✧･ﾟ ✿ Soft & Cozy Story Ideas ✿ Very Dramatic Story Ideas

Please take a look at my Patreon for more cute Sims 4 stuff~ You can find the original post here.

As always, happy simming! - MiunaChan ♥

📌 Service-Based Small Businesses

💉 Tattoo Studio (Hobbies & Businesses) 💆 Wellness Studio/Spa (Spa Day) 💅 Nail Salon (Spa Day) 💇 Hair Salon/Barbershop (CC/mods recommended) 💆‍♂️ Massage Center (Spa Day) 🧖 Sauna / Onsen Retreat (Spa Day, Snowy Escape) 🏋️ Gym & Personal Training (Fitness Stuff, Spa Day) 🧘 Yoga Studio (Spa Day) 🏔️ Rock Climbing Tours (Snowy Escape) ⛸️ Ice Skating Rink (Seasons) 🎢 Roller Skating Rink (Seasons) 🏊 Pool (Seasons) 📖 Library

👶 Daycare for Infants & Toddlers (Seasons, Parenthood) 🤓 Preschool (Parenthood, High School Years) 🐱 Pet Daycare (Cats & Dogs) 🐕 Pet Training & Agility Classes (Cats & Dogs)

🏨 Hotel/Motel (Get to Work) 🧺 Laundrette (Laundry Day Stuff) 🎉 Event Planning Agency (My Wedding Stories) 🏥 Cosmetic Surgery Clinic (CC/mods recommended) 🗣️ Public Relations Agency

🏕️ Campground & Outdoor Retreat (Outdoor Retreat) 🏞️ Private Garden Maze & Fishing Lake (Cottage Living) 🏫 Lecture Hall & Public Speaking Center 🤖 Robotics Workshop (Discover University) 🎭 Improv Theater & Acting School (Get Famous, Get to Work) 📖 Creative Writing & Journalism Workshops 👗 Etiquette & Manners School (My Wedding Stories) 💻 Coding Bootcamp & IT Training 🎮 E-Sports & Gaming Coaching

🍽️ Restaurants & Entertainment Venues

💻 Internet Café 🐾 Pet Café (Cats & Dogs) 🎲 Tabletop & Board Game Café 🧋 Bubble Tea Shop (High School Years)

🍔 Fast-Food Restaurant (Dine Out) 🥐 Bistro (Cozy Bistro Kit, Dine Out) ☕ Traditional Tea House (Snowy Escape) 🥦 Vegan Specialty Store (Cottage Living) 🥘 Food Market & Culinary Stalls (Cottage Living, City Living)

🎤 Bar/Lounge/Nightclub/Karaoke Club (City Living, Get Together) 🎸 Live Music & Jazz Club 😂 Comedy Club 🎥 Cinema (Movie Hangout Stuff) 🎳 Bowling Alley (Bowling Night Stuff)

🍦 Ice Cream Parlor (Seasons) 🎂 Bakery/Pastry Shop (Dine Out) 🚚 Food Truck (Snowy Escape, Cottage Living) 🧑‍🍳 Cooking Classes & Culinary School (Dine Out, Cottage Living)

🍇 Vineyard & Wine Tasting (Cottage Living) 🍸 Barista & Mixology Courses 🏰 Medieval Tavern (Get Together, Seasons) 🎭 Movie Studio Tour (Get Famous) 🏦 Museum & Science Exhibition (Discover University)

🛍️ Retail & Creative Shops

🌸 Flower Shop (Seasons) 💐 Flower Arranging School (Seasons) 🕯️ Candle Shop (Eco Lifestyle) 🏺 Pottery Studio (Hobbies & Businesses)

🖼️ Art Gallery (Get to Work) 🎨 Artist’s Studio & Creative Workshops (City Living) 📚 Bookstore (Get to Work) 📖 Comic Book & Nerd Store (City Living, Journey to Batuu) 🖌️ Art Studio & Painting Classes (City Living, Get to Work)

🧸 Toy Store 🛎️ Souvenir Shop (Island Living, Snowy Escape, Journey to Batuu) 🔮 Crystal & Occult Store (Realm of Magic, Crystal Creations Kit) 💎 Crystal Workshop (Crystal Creations Kit) 🏺 Antique Shop (Eco Lifestyle) 🔥 Fireworks Shop (Seasons) 🎵 Record & Music Instrument Store (City Living) 🎸 Music School (City Living)

📷 Photography Studio & Workshops (Get to Work, City Living) 🧥 Thrift Store (High School Years, Eco Lifestyle) 👘 Costume & Formal Wear Rental (CC/mods recommended)

🛠️ Craft & Manufacturing Businesses

🪑 Furniture Workshop (Eco Lifestyle) 💍 Jewelry Design Studio (Crystal Creations Kit) 👗 Bridal Boutique (My Wedding Stories) 💡 Lamp & Lighting Workshop 🎸 Musical Instrument Crafting (City Living) 👠 Shoe Workshop (CC/mods recommended) 👜 Handbag & Leather Goods Studio (CC/mods recommended) 👕 Tailoring & Fashion Design (CC/mods recommended)

🏡 Tiny House Design & Sales (Tiny Houses, Eco Lifestyle) 🌱 Gardening & Herbalism Workshops (Cottage Living, Realm of Magic) 🔧 DIY & Handicraft Workshops (Eco Lifestyle)

🎭 Fantasy & Unconventional Businesses (CC/Mods Recommended)

🕵️ Private Detective Agency (Get to Work) 💘 Dating Agency 🧹 Cleaning Service 🧠 Psychological Counseling & Therapy 🏚️ Second-Hand Furniture Store (Eco Lifestyle)

🎨 Black Market for Stolen Art (Get to Work, Jungle Adventure) 🧑‍🔬 Secret Alchemy Lab (Realm of Magic) 🎲 Backyard Poker Club 🎰 Gambling Den or Casino (Get to Work) 💻 Cybercriminal Hacker Hideout (Get to Work) 🏚️ Brothel 💋 Woohoo Playrooms 🔮 Medium/Psychic Business (Realm of Magic) 🧪 Potion Bar (Realm of Magic) 🕍 Cemetery & Tombstone Sales (Live and Death, Realm of Magic) 🦇 Secret Occult Society (Vampires, Werewolves, Realm of Magic) 🏕️ Nudist Colony 🕹️ Arcade & Retro Gaming Lounge (High School Years, City Living) 💭 Bubble Blower Lounge (City Living) ⛪ Church

[writers-potion]

Writing Character Accents in Fiction

Hey there, thanks for the question! I speak English as a second language; most English speakers I encounter aren’t native (yes, including fictional people); thus, this is a concern I’ve explored personally when I write. 

I think the core principle regarding accent writing is this: it shouldn’t be distracting. 

For the same reasons why Stephen King prescribes the basic dialogue tag “said” rather than fancier alternatives like “whispered”, “shouted” or “screeched”, dialogue must be first and foremost easy to read. It must flow like a real conversation – the pace and tone are a lot more important than how specific words are being pronounced by the character. 

Focus on what effect the accent has:

Using adjectives to describe their voice in general. Different types of English (American, British, Australian, etc.) will give off a different vibe, also partly dependent on how your character speaks in general:

Lilting: Having a smooth rise and falling quality; sing-song like. Welsh accent is often described as singing. 

Posh: from a high social class. This is the term generally used to describe the upper-class British accent.

Nasal: this happens when the sound goes through somebody’s nose when they’re speaking. North American accents are more nasal than, say, British pronunciations. 

Brash: harsh, loud, indicative of sounding a little rude. 

Slur: speaking indistinctly; words merging into one another.

Using metaphors.

Her voice was cotton and fluffy clouds. 

When he spoke, the ‘r’s scratched the insides of his throat. 

Mentioning their accent with a brief example(s). 

“Would you like to drink some wine?” she said, though her Indian accent gave extra vibration to her ‘w’s and ‘r’s, making the words sound more like ‘vould you like to drrrink some vine’.

“I want some chocolate.” His syllables were choppy and ‘l’s rather flat, saying ‘cho-ko-lit’. 

Some Tips:

Don’t phonically spell out everything. Perhaps give a few examples in the beginning, but stick to standard English spellings. 

Pay attention to word choice, slang, and colloquialisms. 

An Australian person would say “tram”, not “trolley; “runners” instead of “sneakers”

A Canadian may refer to a “fire hall” – what Americans call a firehouse or fire station

If your character comes from a non-Enligsh background:

Use vocabulary from other languages. 

“What time was the exam, ah? Two o’clock? Jiayou!” → putting “ah” or “la” at the end of sentences + Jiayou means “break a leg” in Singlish. 

“I can’t believe that 4-year-olds have their own SNS accounts now.” → “SNS” is short for “social networking service”, a term used to refer to social media in Korea. This would a subtle difference – even though it isn’t technically Korean at all!

Transpose grammar from different languages. 

For example, in French, plural nouns take plural adjectives (whereas in English, you would speak of ‘white cars’, not ‘whites cars’).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[todomochi-uwu]

About last night | R. Z

Pairing(s): Roronoa Zoro x reader Genre: Angst, fluff Warnings: This content is for a mature audience Synopsis: What are we? Author's notes: It seems all I can write are self-indulgences, enjoy. Masterlist If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Once again, the crew was celebrating a victory. 

Nami and Robin were dancing together; Luffy was chomping down every single bite left of the buffet; Usopp and Chopper were goofing around the island; Sanji was surrounded by a bunch of beautiful ladies; Franky was in the middle of arm wrestling some poor loser; and Zoro was, as usual, downing bottle after bottle of sake. You were content seeing each of your crewmates have fun and relax after the rough days you’d gone through, but there was an empty feeling in your chest.  

You looked at him and wondered if the same questions ran around his head. Did you ever cross his mind other than when you were in bed together? Did he ever want more? Or was it just you? 

Whatever you two were seemed to be enough, in the beginning. Now, the nights you used to crave so much seemed turned insipid. Not to say Zoro wasn’t a great lover, of course not, but once the act itself was done, all his warmth died down, quick to ask if you were okay, and proceeded to snore almost right away.  

Admittedly, it was no one's fault but your own for allowing yourself to fall for the swordsman. 

Your heart, body, and soul ask for more, not only for his body to embrace you but also for his entire being to give you the same passion with which he fights, with which he drinks, with which he lives.                           ...but that would be asking too much from someone who doesn’t love you. 

So now, your punishment is to wait and see if he’ll ever. 

"Hello, love, is this seat taken?” 

“All yours, Sanji.” You gave him a small smile. Trying to hide what’s already written all over your face. 

He lit a cigarette and turned to look at you. "My god, you are gorgeous." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. " Why don't you go dance with the girls? They are having fun. Maybe that’ll cheer you up.” 

“M’okay.” You whispered, looking at your feet. 

Yeah, you had gotten all dolled up. A cute, and kinda risky dress (courtesy of Nami’s closet); some small heels; shimmery makeup and a quick bun with some face-framing hair pieces. Robin said you looked gorgeous, that anyone would be a fool not to notice you. Yeah, well, apparently, he was.  

"Come on, love. I can’t stand seeing you dress to the nines only to spend all night glued to a chair.” He caressed your cheek. Why couldn’t you fall for Sanji? It would be a thousand times easier, I mean yeah, he might be a perv and a whore, but at least he was honest and transparent with his feelings. Always paying compliments and showing his love through food, no puzzles, no mental games, just plain and painfully obvious love. Must be nice. 

You leaned against the warmth of his skin, "You know why I’m like this, Ji.” 

He scoffed, “Don’t remind me, still can’t believe you fell for that fucking marimo, he’s beneath you, princess.” He lit up another cigarette, taking a deep drag as he looked at where the source of all your troubles remained. Wasted. Dishevelled. Relaxed. "You deserve everything good in this world, and yet you settle for someone like him. I don’t get it.” 

“Sanji.” You gave him a sad smile. He didn’t mean the things he said about Zoro, but he would always try to protect you. 

"Dance with me." He took your hand in between his, sweetly stroking the back of it. Just as you were about to get up, wanting to end your pity party, an uproarious crash turned everyone’s heads. Boisterous laughs and the flapping sounds of sandals running down the corridor. 

“Give me a second, beautiful.” He gave you a bright smile, before running off to the kitchen (you guessed), where Luffy was probably tormenting some poor cooks. “Goddamit, Luffy, why are you like this?!” 

You simply laughed.  

“He’s not wrong, y’know?” You flinched. Where in the fuck was he hiding? “You look drop-dead gorgeous.” 

You just blushed. How does one accept compliments again? 

He extended his hand, “...” The guy from the bounty poster, the one Nami had been gushing about when you first arrived at the island; wait, what was his name? “Saw you fighting back there, you have some impressive moves.” 

“Thank you.” You chuckled awkwardly. Oh god, you and your incompetence against social skills.  

“Care for some company?” 

“Sure.” 

He sat next to you, taking a sip of his drink, "Thank gods you said yes, I spent like two hours trying to grow a pair just to talk to you.” 

“Really?”, you giggled, “why?” 

“Why? Do you really have to ask? I don’t think you know how beautiful you are.” 

"Oh." You looked down, your face hurt. 

“Let’s see if I get lucky one more time.”, he extended his hand, “would you dance with me?” 

“Umm...”, you looked at Zoro one more time, hoping he at least was looking your way, but no. Too busy drowning himself with sake and ale along with some of the other warriors to notice you, “yeah, why not?” 

The next hour you spent beside him on the dance floor. He told you all about his crew, how they had ended up at that island and the things he’d done that earned him that bounty price. He was as much of a good dancer as he was a storyteller, making you forget about your sorrows, at least for a couple of hours. 

Nami and Robin were sending looks your way, whistling and throwing kissy faces. You simply laughed and shook your head.  

His movements were precise, spinning you and pulling you at the right pace of the music, his fingers ran up and down your back, grazing your waist, sending shivers down your skin, the way his mouth would whisper against your ear made your poor heart jump. If only a certain man wasn’t in the back of your head, you might have let yourself fall, just for tonight. 

At some point, you had asked him to step out with you, the heat becoming too much. You sat on the balcony, looking at the scenery, the moon and the stars, the soft ocean waves, Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp being chased down by Sanji. Everything was okay — at least on the outside.  

-

“Look at our beautiful seamstress, doing the walk of shame, heels on one hand and makeup smeared all over that pretty face." Nami said, giggling, just as you approached the Sunny, "had a good night, princess?" 

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny." You flashed her the middle finger, "fuck you." 

“My god, do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Or better yet, do you suck co..:” 

“Shut up!” Cheeks bright red. 

Hell of a night you had. No, you hadn’t gotten laid last night, much to your dismay. After declining your companion’s advances, you had gotten wasted and passed out on the grass somewhere on the island;  mosquitos did have their way with you and left bites on your neck, shoulders and legs; one of your heels had snapped so you took them off, and, because you stepped on a stone, you were walking funny; you also wouldn’t stop crying so you had mascara smeared all over your face. So much for a victory celebration. 

“I’m going to bed, please, please, don’t bother me. All I want is to die right now.” 

Both girls looked at you with sympathy; they knew your heart was broken, and theirs broke because of that. If only the culprit weren't such an idiot. 

Robin stroked your back, "We are just kidding, babe. Want me to get you some tea?" 

"No, I just want to lie down. Need to rethink some life choices.” 

“Of course, I’ll check on you later.” 

You hummed, going straight to your cabin.  

-

“Has Y/n come back? I didn’t see her last night.” 

"Wait, she didn't sleep here?" Sanji said, alarmed. 

“Don’t worry, she’s back. She went to bed; she was exhausted." Robin sipped her coffee. 

“Poor thing didn’t get an ounce of sleep last night. She was... busy.” She grinned. She spied on Zoro out of the corner of her eye. He had woken up, now trying to look indifferent, but she knew he was very alert. She had seen him checking the deck every couple of minutes, waiting for a certain girl to come back; she was sure he was about to go out and look for her when she showed up. 

“Oh, right! I saw her talking to some guy last night, he had white and black spiky hair, tall and buff, yeah, he seemed nice.” Usopp said, eating his lunch. 

“This guy?” Robin conveniently pulled out the bounty poster.  

"Yes! Oh, wow, look at his bounty, that’s a nice number.” Nami gasped, it was an overkill, but she knew the marimo head wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s not that big of a deal. Mine’s bigger.” The targeted man said, jaw clenched and teeth grinding. 

“I mean, it’s quite big, either way. Plus, cute and a high bounty, it’s any girl pirate’s dream.” 

His face turned a deeper shade of red. 

Sanji laughed loudly, “Stupid marimo", before realising what was going on, "Wait, Nami-swan, you think this guy is attractive? He looks so bland! Ugh, his face makes me want to throw up.” He continued making gagging noises. 

“Well, I think he’s cute, but our dear seamstress deemed it nice enough to sit on it.” Usopp choked on his food, coughing and reprimanding the navigator on her vulgarity, while covering Chopper’s ears. 

“Huh? What does that mean? Why would Y/n use his face as a chair?" Luffy said, tilting his head, "Is his face comfy? I don’t think it can be, can it be Zoro?” He pulled on the swordsman’s sleeve, wanting answers. Precious and naive Luffy. 

"It's nothing, Luffy," Sanji said, cheeks bright red. 

“No, but what is it?” The captain continued, “Hey, someone answer me.” 

Nami simply ignored him, "Must have been one hell of a night, she could barely walk straight.” 

Zoro’s right hand now wrapped around his sword; the left one was tightly gripped around his mug. Fumes coming out of his nostrils. It’s almost hilarious how easy he was.  

Crack! 

Franky knew exactly what she was doing, and while at first, he decided to just lean back and enjoy the show, his natural instincts barged in. “He had some great moves on him." He got up and started moving his hips suggestively, "he was so smooth, I was almost jealous... of her” 

 He was also tired of the tugging and pulling that the boat’s sweethearts had, and (though he would never admit it) he loved gossip. 

“She looked so gorgeous yesterday, my heart almost stopped. Well... if I had one.” Brook broke into giggles, then took a sip of his tea. Whether he knew what was going on is unknown, but he always had great timing. “I wonder if he got to see her panties.” 

Crack! 

“Did she dance all night? Is that why her legs hurt?" Luffy continued. 

Crack! 

"Well, they sure did a lot of work, oh, and her hips must be killing her, all that grinding and thrusting, music sure was intense last night.” Yeah, that was enough. 

Crack! 

The ceramic had finally given in. White dust and bits of it now lay on the table and floor. Zoro got up, snapping the back of his chair in the process, he stomped his way down the corridor. 

Robin giggled, placing her face against her palm, amused by the scene. Nami could only sigh. Finally. 

“Hey, Zoro! Don’t go around breaking things!” Usopp yelled. 

“What’s going on? Where’s he going?" said Luffy, not catching a single clue. 

-

He didn’t even bother knocking, straight up slamming the door. 

“Where were you last night?” 

Completely disoriented. “Huh?” Your eyes could barely open. 

“Where. Were. You. Last. Night?” 

“What? What do you want, Zoro? I’m tired.” You turned to your side, burying your face in your pillow. 

Air abandoned his lungs. Purple marks... deep purple marks covered your neck. Mascara running down your cheeks. The hoarseness in your voice. A vision he knew all too well, Nami was right. 

His mouth dried up like Yuba, he felt like screaming, throwing up and running away all at the same time. His feet were cemented to the ground; millions of questions roamed around his head. Were you still his? Please, please tell him that no one had put their hands where he did most nights, that no one pulled noises out of you only meant for him to hear, that you hadn’t allowed anyone to see you in ways only he had. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. What's up with him? “I was at the party; you saw me there.” 

“After that, where did you go? You didn’t sleep here? Where were you?” He pushed, hating how desperate he sounded. 

“Zoro...” 

He glared at you.  

A toxic brew formed in your chest: heartache, a hangover and lack of sleep, don’t make a good combination. “What’s it to you?! Fuck, Zoro why are you acting like this?” 

“I have every fucking right to know!” Now full-on yelling. 

“No, you don’t! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You sat down on the bed, glaring directly into his eyes.  

“I want to know who the fuck my girlfriend spent the night with!” 

...

 

His what? 

“What?” You whispered, the pounding in your head now in sync with the one in your chest. 

“Who did you fuck last night?” His fists tightened at his sides, bile spitting out of his mouth.  

Your brain could barely process what was going on. His girlfriend? Fucked someone last night? Huh? 

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n, the rest of the crew saw you. Getting all cozed up with that lowlife.” 

His eyes didn’t waver, waiting for an answer, demanding it. Any confirmation that you hadn’t betrayed him, but he got none. So, he did what he always does best: he put his walls up. "Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He turned to leave, stomping his way out, not wanting you to see him this vulnerable. Panic flooded your chest. You couldn’t let him go now, not like this, you were quick to grab him by the arm, "Let me go, woman.” 

“No, we have to talk about this.” 

“What’s there to talk about? I don’t tolerate disloyalty, no matter how drunk you were or who it was with.” 

“I didn’t sleep with anyone.” 

He turned to look at you; you knew he didn’t believe you by the look on his face. 

“Zoro, I swear.” You begged. 

He didn’t say anything. 

“I passed out drunk on some hill, completely alone.” 

He scanned your face and voice, searching for any traces of lies. "You have marks all over your body." 

“I do?” You looked at your skin, noticing small red splotches all over your shoulders; your fingers touched your neck, tiny bumps covering it and itching, “Yeah, I think bugs had a great time last night.” 

You could see him hurting, but you were just as confused as he was, “I’m not lying, Zoro.” 

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. He looked at the floor, not daring to look you in the eyes. 

“Yes, I’ll admit I was dancing with someone,” his frown deepened, “but I rejected him, nothing happened.” You touch his chest, moving up to his neck, making him look at you. You were sincere, he knew that now, but he was still aching. 

“Now, I need you to tell me something.” Your voice got really quiet. "What are we?" 

“What do you mean?" he gave you a puzzled look. 

“Us. What are we doing? What’s this?” You gestured between you and him. 

His eyebrows arched, "We are dating, aren't we?" 

“I don’t know. Are we? You never talk to me, Zoro, I never know what’s going on in your mind.” 

“I assumed we were together because we... sleep together.” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks turning red. 

“Oh...”, well shit. 

“What? Do you think I just go around sleeping with anyone?” 

“No, no, but you never said anything to me, never gave me a sign or a label or anything.” 

“Sex isn’t enough of a sign?” He snorted. 

“Well... no, Sanji always talks about...” 

He groaned, shaking his head, "Don't talk about him, not right now or ever." 

“Okay.” You bit your lip, not knowing where to go from there. 

"Stop overthinking, you always do that." He stepped closer, pulling you into his chest, "Is that what this is about? Was yesterday's tantrum because of this?” 

“It wasn’t a tantrum! I was genui..." The green haired man cut you off, tugging your chin in between his fingers. 

"You are such a baby. Why didn’t you just talk to me?” 

“I don’t know how to.” You looked away. 

“Fair, I don’t know how to, either.” 

You both fell silent, not knowing what else to say. You blamed Zoro for his lack of communication and clarity, but you were just as bad at it. Minutes went by, simply spent in the comfort of each other's arms,  

“Look, we don’t have to solve everything right this second, okay? Just... okay?" He placed a small yet firm kiss on your lips. 

“Okay.” 

[chaaistained]

☕︎ my better cr; intro •°

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.

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🗝️ you’ve now unlocked the recipe to my better cr ≈

name : ℳ

age (when i shift) : 17/18 — i’m planning to either shift to dec 2021 or aug 2022 , wtv my subconscious chooses

occupation : university student — double degree in law and arts, majoring in media law and craft of writing & literature, respectively

+ part time tutor for english and maths, at the same private tutoring company i went to in high school

+ (eventually) part time stock acquisition and youth advertiser at a telecommunications company near my campus which is technically a nepo hire bcs my aunt works there

+ (eventually) paid internship at the australian taxation office for the study of torts and contracts and even tho i got in genuinely bcs of my marks and my interview it also feels a little nepo bcs another aunt (a family friend) also works here.. anyway

side hobbies/hustles : blogger (tumblrina in every reality if i can help it) , tiktok + youtube cover channel with two of my high school friends , fic author (ao3 curse does NOT exist here come at me) , occasional columnist for my uni’s student newsletter

my s/o : childhood family friend — lost contact and reunited ten years later — not revealing his name apart from the first letter bcs . he’s real .. anyway it’s 𝒜

౨ৎ meet ℳ

a sun kissed cinnamon bun personified — she is the smile that blossoms between warm cheeks during the burn of a sunrise ≈

in this dr i don’t change my name, and for that reason i’ll stick to the first letter (just like my pinned post) which is ℳ.

i’m nothing more than a normal girl, waking up each day already tired but willing myself to either go to uni or work, staying up late to catch up on the hours i spend doing other things, i have a closet full of clothes and yet i have nothing to wear, i have three of the same shades of lip gloss but they’re all from different brands so ofcs they’re not the same, i just bought a new journal but i’m yet to finish the one i got four years ago, i have ink stains on the tips of my fingers and chai stains on the pages edge of the novel i’m currently reading.

i just take every day like a new pot of tea leaves, waiting to be steeped to perfection.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ the metamorphosis

with frayed edges and tear stained cheeks, she undid the binds of a life once lived, a life once loved, finding the holes to be too much to bear in the everlasting winter of the cold reality that was thrust upon her, opting to take the needle and thread between her own fingers and stitch up the seams, to reinforce the realm of her existence into one that can hold her hand rather than hold her down

quite often i approach the concept of reinvention with a quivering hand, unable to part ways from the comfort — or perhaps the codependency — of that familiarity.

but eventually i took a step back and realised, there is no shame in finding freedom in what already feels right . after all, our souls are not dependant on this realm or this body, our consciousness is an ever expanding universe on its own, and our power to wield it is something that we have grown to understand and control in a way that allows us to live the lives we truly desire.. that’s all that this dr represents for me.

a life that i truly desire.

i’m not that different here, i have the same name, the same birthday, the same family. but it would be a lie to say everything stays the same.

i do admit to changing my appearance a bit, i’m nothing if not a perfectionist and whilst i do think my features have potential, i actually reach said potential in this reality. my upbringing has been revitalised to be something that enriched me rather than keeping me sheltered. my parental unit is less overbearing and more understanding, my brother is less of a jerk and more of a friend, my family relationships are less immature and more genuine.

i revise my failures in education, i revise my anxieties around success and the fear of that success being unreachable, i revise my health, my athleticism, my willpower and the general energy i have throughout the day to achieve everything that i wish to accomplish, everything that i could not bring myself to take a step towards in my previous reality.

my passions aren’t shamed here, they are encouraged. not just with the wary caution of a simple hobby but rather as an actual proper lifestyle, a feasible choice to make for a career, a skill that is supported as something from which i can make a name for myself.

and in this growth, in this metamorphosis, i find stability and comfort in not just my family but also my friends — people that i lost contact with, people that i drifted away from, people that i couldn’t bring myself to keep close because of the shame in my own progression or lack thereof — i’m not an aspect of shame, i never was, i know what i deserve and what i’m capable of and in this reality, i am all those things.

that’s why this is home, even after i break out of the cocoon and open my eyes in a world that’s familiar, it will also be different, because i’ll be different — no longer experiencing the slow sluggish state of what once was, for i now have a marvellous symmetry of splendour that holds me high, the equilibrium of my reality, where the scales finally tipped in my favour, levelling out to be amiably sound, with every flap of a butterfly’s wing.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

౨ৎ sugar heart cookies

it’s an inexplicable pull, an intangible tug on the heartstrings, a firm grip, a gentle ache, a deep longing. you can’t help but feel that there is something more out there for you, that there is someone more. someone that feels less like a piece and more like a whole person. someone who won’t complete you, but will help you complete yourself. two halves of a heart leaves you vulnerable when you’re apart, but when it’s two hearts beating alongside each other, the only thing left is to hold onto you

he sat beside me in his mother’s car. we were six (me) and eight (him). he sat in the drivers seat while his mother went inside the house to pick up a few things before taking the three of us (his little sister sat in the back) to a gathering of family friends.

his mother had bought us britannia little hearts. i can still remember the minuscule sugar crystals stuck to the tips of my small fingers while i dove inside the aluminium cover every few seconds to reach for the next tiny biscuit.

he asked me where i was that day — i’d stayed home from school because i felt unwell — when i told him, his first reaction was to nag me : “you know, if you’re sick, you shouldn’t be eating these. this is pure sugar.”

“yeah but i don’t want to listen to you!” — i was .. never really good at listening to people, especially not cute boys who were a little older than me.

he always seemed a bit uptight, but i guess i forgot how much he cared. because i can’t remember what happened two years later, during my last day in my old school. i remember crying, and i remember being comforted by people. but i guess i forgot that one of those people was him. i guess i forgot that he told me “it’ll be alright. i’m sure we’ll see each other again someday.”

it took us ten years but we got there.

this time, he was upstairs, in the house that was hosting a dinner among friends. i was distracted by my brother’s antics, one foot inside the threshold past the door and one foot on the pavement outside. with a flick of my head, my gaze turned up, up past the stairs in front of the door, up to the railing on the second level, a lookout point for the entrance.

he was leaning against the railing, blue button up shirt tucked into his black jeans, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, taking a quick glance to his side before doing a double take.

the silence felt like the calm before a pattering evening of rainfall, where you can feel the change in your future from the way the air seems electrified, from the way the clouds seems to churn around each other, like they’re brewing together, ready to erupt and explode into thunder, like the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

he seemed familiar, he seemed important, he seemed to be everything i could ever ask for and i didn’t know why the sirens were singing in my skull but i knew in my gut he was meant to be important to me. i knew he was meant to be somebody.

it took me a second to look away, but that entire night, and every night that followed, and every day that came along with it, i can’t ever forget the sugar crystal glimmers of light in his eyes. and for every moment to come, i’ll hold the little heart biscuits of our love in the palm of my hands, because i’m not someone who listens to people very well, i don’t care if i’m not allowed, i want them . i want him.

don’t swallow the tea leaves ! for they leave you a message 🍂

this dr is very near and dear to my heart and i can’t even begin to put everything i wanna say about it into one post so .. there will be more abt this dr

it’s literally home. it’s my life.

i’m so grateful for it xx

chaai brews; tea assortments — dr archive

2025 © chaaistained

[eyekoninurarea]

Your Idol: Debut Vlog Series

→ daniela avanzini x fem!idol!masc!reader

masterlist

word count: 986

series summary: in which a struggling girl group was suddenly brought into light when their debut came out of nowhere. everyone thought SIREN5 was just hype; a chaotic rookie group with a pretty concept and no substance. even KATSEYE wasn’t expecting much when they were assigned to mentor them before debut. but the moment the music hit, everything changed.

episode summary: wherein the first filming disaster is edited to the best the editors can, witness as sailors get to know more about their idols on the first episode.

authors note: this is quite literally like a filler, this is chapter 3 in vlog form for me to get a feel for writing in this format. this segment, messed up my frequently used emojis and my brain fried from all the usernames i had to think of jesus christ. give me your thoughts and opinions abt this kind of set up? next up, another experimental part Cami's first live.

The characterization in this fic does not, in any way, reflect that of the real people portrayed in this fic.

tag(s): fluff, suggestive content, nsfw, mdni (pls i beg), idol!reader being a loser trapped in a hot body, masc reader, reader having she/her pronouns, rough transitions, shitty characterization, messy, sex jokes, the author doesn't know how the music industry works.

[SIREN5 x KATSEYE: Debut Diary Ep. 1 — "First Contact (ft. Chaos, Confusion & Cringe)"]

Uploaded by: SIREN5 OFFICIAL

🟢 Premiered 4 hours ago | #SIREN5 #KATSEYE #SYRENCHAOS

🎬 [INTRO CLIP — SOFT MUSIC, FADE-IN TEXT]

> “SIREN5: DEBUT DIARY – A behind-the-scenes series documenting the rise of our newest global sirens. Welcome to chaos personified.”

📍SEGMENT 1: "5:50 AM: The Calm Before the Screech"

🎥 [CAMERA: Shaky handheld style, opening shot of Hana in the kitchen]

Caption: “Leader Hana, 5:50AM. Zero makeup. Infinite caffeine.”

🎙️ HANA (deadpan):

“We’ve been training at 6AM every single day for four years. And SYRE’s body still isn’t used to it.”

📷 Cuts to: Rina doing jumping jacks, singing fae-folk-rock gibberish

📷 Cuts to: Cami swearing at a rice cooker

📷 Cuts to: Amara looking like she has a 9–5 and is already over it

💬 FAN COMMENTS:

🧃@syrenshrine: “Rina has main character energy and no supervision.”

🔥@cami-solo-when: “I need a cami vs kitchen spin-off RIGHT NOW.”

☕@Amaraismycomfort: “Amara with a protein shake and lip balm is my 2025 moodboard.”

💀@rip-syre: “SYRE really fighting for her life every morning huh.”

😭@hanahelps: “Hana blinking in Morse code. Send help.”

🎥 Cue thump, slipper throw, and this offscreen gem:

> “Tell Geffen I’m dead. They’ll have to debut with four.”

📷 Cuts to: Cami laughing her ass off

> “Girl, you wrote the debut song. What are you talking about?”

📍SEGMENT 2: "KATSEYE VISITS: AND EVERYTHING FALLS APART"

🎥 Crisp 4K footage. Door opens. Screaming erupts immediately.

📷 Cut to KATSEYE looking STUNNED at the doorway like they just walked into a zoo exhibit.

[Screen Text Overlay: “?????????”]

📷 Cut to Hana body-blocking like a trained security agent

> Caption: “Composure: barely hanging on.”

🎙️ HANA:

“Good morning. Sorry for the mess. We usually train early. Today was… a late start.”

📷 Cami offscreen yelling about hot oil and nipples. Staff shrieking in subtitles.

📷 Megan whispers to Yoonchae: “Did she just—”

📷 Manon ducks as Daniela merely glances at the flying feather headband

📷 Lara sidesteps a flying tank top

💬 FAN COMMENTS:

🤸‍♀️@katseyekollective: “Lara dodging flying tank tops like a warrior 😭”

🌈@laraismytype: “Flirty Lara meets feral Rina. I smell a crossover.”

😩@softmeganclub: “Megan looked so stressed the entire time and I love her for it.”

😂@danielashasfallen: “Daniela watching the chaos like she’s watching art happen in real time.”

🎥 Cue: Amara brushing her teeth mid-walk like a background NPC

> “Oh hey, the cool kids are here.”

📷 Cami emerges like glitter-fueled thunder:

> “Oh my god. Are we filming? Are we hot? Is that Megan in my house? IS THAT RISING GLOBAL POP STAR SENSATION LARA RAJ?!?! Is this a lucid dream or should I remove the bra from the lamp?”

📷 Camera pans over to the lamp in question; the bra is covered in a pixelated mess of squares and intense censorship.

💬 FAN COMMENTS:

🤸‍♀️@iwishcamiisreal: “Not Cami quoting Manon in front of Manon”

🌈@laraismytype: “IS THAT RISING GLOBAL POP STAR SENSATION LARA RAJ?!?! 😫😫😫 cami is so relatable i fear”

🐧@amarathelivingtruth: “AMARA ONE CHANCE PLS OMG SHE LOOKS SO DOMESTIC PLS LOOK MY WAY”

🦨@geniussyresimp: "HELP- THE CENSORED BRA I'M WEEPING"

📍SEGMENT 3: "SYRE.exe has stopped responding"

🎥 Door creaks open. You emerge like a disaster princess in a penguin onesie.

📷 Zoom in on your half-conscious face

📷 Daniela. On the couch. Watching. Smirking. Glowing.

📷 Cut to you looking at your slipper. Counting your fingers. Then back to Daniela.

[Screen Overlay: Existential crisis loading…]

🎙️ SYRE:

“Nope. Not dreaming. No [BEEP] way. [BEEP] me gently with a chainsaw.”

📷 Zoom in on Cami absolutely losing it.

📷 Cue the fall. SYRE faceplants. Everyone freezes. Daniela stands, concerned.

🎙️ SYRE:

“I hate this timeline. I’ll just die here, Please don’t perceive me, I'm in the process of decomposing. But please pretend none of this happened. Especially not the scratching. Or the counting. Or the internal breakdown. I’d like to start this day over and this time not emotionally detonate in front of my crush, uh… I mean a colleague. Industry peer. Company sister. Fellow idol. Woman I respect very respectfully.”

💬 FAN COMMENTS:

🫠@syrebraincell: “‘Please don’t perceive me’ IS SO REAL.”

🐧@syrelivinghertruth: “DID Y’ALL SEE SYRE IN THE PENGUIN ONESIE. I’M IN SHAMBLES.”

💘@syrexdanielacore: “Syre seeing Daniela was like a Sims character spotting death.”

🧼@rinabrafanacc: “SYRE TRIPPED OVER RINA’S BRA AND TRIPPED OVER HER WORDS TOO. I’M NOT OKAY.”

🪦@girlbossgrave: “She called her a ‘colleague.’ In a onesie. SYRE is so GONE I fear”

🌞@danislays: “Daniela being concerned then laughing at her like they're in love GOODBYE.”

🎥 Cut to Cami, smug:

> “She’s been in love with you since your debut. It’s kind of her origin story.”

🎥 Hana, stepping over your body, still sipping coffee like it’s a sedative:

> “Welcome to our home.”

📷 Cut to KATSEYE watching like it's National Geographic.

📷 Yoonchae whispering: “This is a sitcom. We’ve entered a sitcom.”

📷 Rina takes over the camera:

> “This is SYRE, by the way. Gay gremlin. Idol powerhouse. Known sufferer of Daniela Avanzini exposure.”

🎥 Final moment: you hiding under your penguin hood, mumbling a wrecked “Good morning.” Daniela grins, all slow-burn confidence.

> “Morning, SYRE.”

📷 Cue tragic violin and funeral filter added by the editors

💬 FAN COMMENTS:

🐧@syrekin: “SYRE’S SPIRIT LEFT HER BODY AT ‘Morning, SYRE’ I saw it.”

💗@sirendaniedit: “Bro the penguin suit to lover arc is real.”

🔥@siren5chaos: “Not the bra tripping arc + publicist panic soundtrack 💀💀💀”

🎤@katseyefan: “This vlog deserves an Emmy for documentary excellence.”

😭@hanasuffers: “Petition to get Hana a paid vacation and noise-cancelling headphones.”

🐧@syrelivinghertruth: “Give my poor baby syre a break.”

☎ @camilelelele: “This is so chaotic it's like they gave SIREN5 a camera and a dream and said ‘make content’ and they did.”

🎬 [OUTRO: SOFT MUSIC, WHITE TEXT OVER BLACK]

> Next episode: “Cooking Night Disaster: Featuring Fire Alarms, Daniela Serving Face with a...Fire Extinguisher?, and SYRE Screaming Over a Pile of Dirty Dishes”

🔔 Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe to see more from SIREN5 and KATSEYE!

taglist: @awkwardtoafault, @cheerlanader

[knowbites]

　　　I GUESS I'M IN LOVE　　۶ৎ　　kim seungmin.

☕　────　you're everything that i want but i didn't think i'd find ..

⠀ ksm x f reader !⠀⠀6, 3 k.⠀⠀fluff, college au⠀⠀ 𓈀 ⠀⠀ wc.⠀⠀descriptions of social anxiety, getting drunk and kisses. this is based on a personal experience, but it's also based on the love of my life @skzms 's drabble "seungmin in love" which you should check out!

notes.⠀⠀i hope may doesn't mind i bring this back... on her bday <3 (and hour late but let's pretend) happy, happy bday mayy! my lovely teri asked me to post it again because she really liked it, so i saved it for your bday. i listened to i guess i'm in love by clinton kane while writing this btw!

You had never mustered the courage to talk to a boy until university made you come out of your shell.

The morning you had stepped into the lecture hall for the first time, ready to listen to the dean of your faculty give the introductory talk, you had sat alone in one of the front rows—hanging on every word, your heart racing restlessly. You hadn't known anyone among the crowd, and you had decided you would rather focus on the speech, secretly hoping some extrovert would adopt you, than take the first step and start an interaction with a stranger.

But making new friends wasn’t as easy as your high school besties, studying in another town, had made it sound.

You had been shy since you were a child, feeling a sense of panic creeping up your chest at the mere thought of you ending up alone but unable to do something about it, and you were incapable of approaching someone and starting a conversation from scratch. Your fear had always been a prison and the guardian of an anxiety that swirled inside your ribcage, but at college it translated as the number one reason why you had ended up hiding in that lonesome table at the library during all your free hours, instead of hanging out with classmates.

Everyone was new in the first year, most of them didn't know anyone either, but unlike them, you had felt that an invisible wall separating you from them, preventing you from mingling with other students and interacting properly. Not that you wanted to—sometimes you thought you were better off alone, with your music and your inner peace—but there were times when the solitude became suffocating.

Until you met Kim Seungmin. Quiet boy with warm coffee gaze and broad shoulders, usually sitting in the front rows, focused on your professors’ words.

You hadn't spoken to him, at least not at first. You hadn't even realised he existed, at the beginning. You were too scared, mind set on the classes to avoid noticing the silence that clouded your room, and he was just another classmate in the core subjects shared by all those who studied the same degree as you. He smiled softly at the jokes of the teachers he liked, became more serious in the most difficult lectures, and tried not to show his exasperation when the annoying student in the first line of desks made their trademark rancid comment. By late October, you hadn’t even known his name.

But eventually, you found yourself waiting for those little reactions. Like you, he also showed up ten minutes before the first class started, sitting alone, and he also came to school with his headphones on, drowning out all the noise in the corridors with some music. He would arrive with his dark blue backpack slung over one of his shoulders, and a book in his hand—the same one he would read for a while before the professor arrived. You smiled to yourself as you watched him, writing down the titles of his readings, looking forward to the classes you shared with him.

And then you saw him appear for the first time in the library. You were already a regular visitor of the silent place, always at one of the more secluded tables, your back to the wall, your laptop a shield protecting you from the other people in the room. And he had slipped quietly in, ears covered by his black headphones, leaving his backpack on the table in front of yours. For a moment you had stood still, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, the word on your document half-typed, your breath caught in your throat.

And then you had looked away, going on with your work.

It was stupid to react like that for someone you didn't even know.

Right?

But the next day you repeated your little choreography, sitting opposite of each other, in complete silence, a calm and concentrated reflection of your own, right in front of you, as if there was a mirror in the middle of the tables. And the next day, and the next, and the next... For weeks, until it became a habit between the two of you.

You would leave class a little late, too, just because you knew it took him longer to collect his belongings, and you'd follow each other's shadows through the corridors until you reached the library. He would hold the door, a shy gentleman stopping in its tracks to let you in first, and you would smile sweetly at him. You would walk up to your designated table, and when you lent him the book you had used to find out information about a homework topic, he'd return the soft curve in your lips, showing his braces without an ounce of insecurity.

Not a word, but you didn’t need them to feel at ease in each other’s company.

You were comfortable with your dynamic because you didn't think you had any expectations. You didn't think you did. But as the days went by, you started to find him among people even when you weren't looking for him. Your friends, with whom you exchanged text messages, encouraged you to say hello, to introduce yourself, making you think that he could really be interested in you. And you'd let them, flushing at the thought of it. Then exam season had come around, and you had locked yourself in your dorm room to study—realising, in his absence, the impact he had left on your heart.

In February, you returned to your routine. And instead of facing the feelings that had been blooming even before spring, you welcomed back the habits you had implemented with Seungmin, happy to find that the time apart hadn't changed them. You hadn't really made a move, neither of you, but you were alone in your little bubble, and so you continued to meet at your library spot.

But by the second semester, the people around you had already got used to college life. The one you saw in the movies, going out half the nights of the week, hanging out in large groups of friends in the evenings, complaining about professors and gossiping in class. That comfort, you discovered, meant that there were people who would try to make more friends, or seek out a college crush that would motivate them to romanticise their lives.

One of the last days of winter—when the weather got warmer but still rainy— you realised that there was another girl waiting for Seungmin at the end of your class. A more outgoing and prettier one, the kind who always gave the right answers to the teacher and had a bunch of cool friends she hung out with. You heard her asking him if he could explain to her the latest topic discussed in class over a latte in the building’s cafeteria. And your heart sunk in your chest.

You had been waiting for him, like you had learned to do, in the edge of the door—ready to shamelessly accompany each other to the next lecture—, but staying there while the girl flirted with him made you feel uneasy, like you were intruding in the intimacy of her charming smile and casual brushes of her hand on his arm. A creep, in the corridor, witnessing what you couldn’t have. What you would never be able to be like. So you had ended up leaving. Without him.

That had been the first day you had gone to the library alone since your non-arranged meetings had taken place there, and you’d had to open the door for yourself. It had hurt, somehow. Like a dog so used to having a delicious meal when the bell rang that he started to salivate at the sound of it. You had taken the same steps every day, stopped in the same spot and waited for him to open the door for you with that silly bow he always did. 

But when you arrived at the door, your mind chose to forget how to wrap your hand around the handle. As if it wasn’t right because he was the one supposed to do it. Dragging yourself to a table that suddenly seemed emptier, you realised that you missed his smile. His steady presence, right by your side.

It hadn’t made sense, the way your heart jumped in your chest every time you noticed someone approaching your table. He was just a classmate. You hadn’t even talked that much, besides a quiet ‘Good morning’ and the usual nods of acknowledgement when you saw each other. Seungmin. The boy attending the same degree as you, another student in the faculty. But somehow you had grown accustomed to him as a constant—especially because there were so many absences in your life, it was easy to notice when he was gone.

And it had scared you. For a moment, thinking you had taken things way too far, that you had let the attachment blossom under your own watch. Wondering if it was unhealthy, the intensity, the muchness you carried with yourself. If you were somewhat broken, unable to keep normal relationships with the people around you, or it was just an illness you had no control over.

You had wished, as it usually happened, that you were braver.

Instead, the next day you skipped class.

A coward, really. You had only missed the class you knew you shared with Seungmin, and you had felt guilty enough. You'd gone to the interactive seminars without fail, your mind scattered and an emptiness in your chest, but you hadn't been able to purposely attend the same class as him. You would have felt compelled to talk to him, to greet him or ask him about the girl from the day before, and at the same time you hadn't felt able to deal with it. So you had spent the day thinking you were an absolute coward, not fully understanding why your brain worked the way it did.

But an afternoon of self-loathing and overthinking, curled up on the sofa in the common room of the dorm一all a wandering gaze and sad music playing softly in your headphones一, made you realise that you had gone numb. Stuck. For a long time, imprisoned in the confines of your own mind, shackled to what people could say about you and the overwhelming burden of failing. To avoid bothering or speaking out, to reduce yourself to a shadow of what you could be so that the people around you could shine brighter.

And it didn't seem fair at all.

So you had muttered a quiet ‘fuck it’ under your breath.

The following day, early in the morning, on the bus一on your way to class一, you had managed to gather the courage to talk to a boy. For the first time, and all by yourself. To that boy.

You had approached him before class, slipping into a seat one line forward of where he was, taking a deep breath of air and exhaling it as you had tried to keep your nerves under control, eyes tightly closed. With your pulse racing, you had turned, resting one of your hands on his desk and catching his attention by waving softly. He had looked up from the intertwined sentences of his book, closing it as soon as he saw it was you addressing him, and you enjoyed a few more seconds of your tender bubble, his brownish gaze all over you, before bursting it.

Your words had been quick and breathy, stammering over possible coffees and shared hours, your eyes anywhere in the class but on his face. Your cheeks got incredibly heated when he responded calmly, a mask of stillness in contrast to the chaos of emotions spiralling inside him, and you had only interrupted the conversation when the teacher finally began the lesson, heart pounding against your ribcage.

But you had done it! Stepping out of your comfort zone, and risking your carefully threaded silence, your convenient and easy peace, just to approach someone. In return, you got the chance to spend time with Seungmin, and the exhilaration of a new achievement.

That was the first free hour of your strict schedule you had disrupted your way to the library in favour of a trip to the cafeteria. You had felt that warmish touch in your shoulder every time his had brushed yours, and a burst of pride inside your chest when you had realised you were finally enjoying something you had worked for—even if it was as silly as hanging out with a not so new friend.

You had heard him order an iced americano with syrup, greeting the lady behind the counter with rehearsed confidence, and waiting—his gaze tracing across the profile of your face—for you to ask for what you wanted. Then he had guided you to one of the tables at the back, letting you sit on the bench with its back against the wall. Almost as if, somehow, he knew that it was what you preferred.

For a moment  you had wanted to get your hopes up, to think that he actively thought of you as much as you had thought of him, but it didn't actually make any sense. So you had sighed, setting your bag down beside you, and intertwined your own fingers in a nervous gesture.

You had been the one to propose the plan, but you realised then that you had been so sure he would say ‘no’ that you hadn't planned any further.

You had wandered your gaze in silence, steadily, slowly, trying not to meet his at any point, your shyness forcing stitches of thread on your lips, unable to utter a word. At least until the waitress had appeared with her tray and your drinks, and Seungmin's raspy ‘thank you’ broke through your bubble. You had uttered your own appreciation, no sound actually coming out of your throat, but the beginning of a smile tugged at your lips when he managed to continue a conversation that hadn't existed until then, asking you how you had adjusted to the lectures, to college, and how was life at your dorm.

And then you let loose like a torrent. The stuttering edges of your mouth had tightened, answering in few words and short sentences how your university experience had been going until then, daring even to lock your eyes with his when you returned the question, painfully eager to hear him speak. And as he told a story similar to yours, albeit with many more friends than you had, you had reached your trembling hands towards your cup, taking it and sipping a small amount of coffee.

You had tried not to let it show, but the bitterness of the drink enveloped your taste buds in a flavour you were not used to. Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced, swallowing the thick liquid in one gulp, avoiding triggering your gag reflex, and when you looked back at Seungmin, you noticed he had been watching you like a hawk. He had tilted his head, almost like a puppy would have, and picked up the cup you had just set down, wetting his lips to taste it. He had opened his eyes slightly, almost comically, and muttered what you both were thinking: “This is not what you ordered.”

Then he had gotten up to go reclaim it.

You had felt the heat rise up your neck and settle on your cheeks, unable to believe what had just happened, and watched from your warm seat as the boy spoke to the woman he had greeted earlier. She was surprised and certainly apologetic because of the confusion, and he had shared a complicit grin with you while she repeated the whole process of making from scratch what you had ordered in the first place.

It had been Seungmin's gentle words when he finally returned, treating the porcelain with extreme care so as not to spill the contents, that made you suppress the apology you had had at the tip of your tongue. Perhaps he had decided that it was his responsibility—that the barista had mistaken the order—, but he had stood up for you because he had wanted to. You could read it on his face.

“Thank you so much,” you had said, a shy smile curving your lips, brushing his knuckles with your fingers as you took the new mug. You had closed your eyes to smell the sweet, thick hot chocolate you loved so much, sighing dreamily against it. “You didn't have to.”

Spring was coming to an end, but the mornings were still tinged with a freezing air that bothered you, because you never knew what to wear to class—when you got out of the dorm it was cold, but as soon as midday struck, the sun heated more than usual. So you had told Seungmin when you had opened your eyes and realised that he had been watching you again, but you tried not to retreat into the bashfulness that had kept you from interacting with him for so long.

You had been ready to get out of your comfort bubble once and for all, and having a conversation with someone who in your thoughts was no longer a stranger seemed like the natural option.

After that moment, it had been relatively easy. The words had flowed between you, asking each other about your lives and replying with more questions, exchanging anecdotes, dropping little jokes that elicited laughter, lost in each other’s gaze. As easy as breathing, the minutes passing by on the clock without even being aware of it, learning to read a new language—a new person—, through what you told each other. Opinions and experiences, comments and compliments, engaged in a dance that only you knew, until the alarm on your phone had started ringing, and you had realised you were late.

You had apologised with hurried syllables, quickly packing up, waving goodbye, and heading hastily towards the counter to pay for your drink. You had been surprised when the woman indicated that Seungmin had already taken care of it, and you had looked back for a few seconds to give him a beaming smile. He had mirrored it, leaning against the table you had been sitting at, and waved his hand in response. It had been when you got into the bus, on the way to the restaurant where you had agreed to meet your sister for lunch, that you had realised you hadn't asked him for his phone number.

Apparently, you hadn’t been the only one to think so.

The morning after your disaster of a first conversation, you had arrived early. You had sat in the third row, the fourth seat, just like you always did. And you had begun to doodle in your notebook, deep in thought, until you heard someone clearing their throat next to you. You had looked up, startled, until Seungmin made an exaggerated gesture of asking if he could sit next to you, and you managed not to burst out laughing at his antics when the teacher had come through the door to start the class.

And it had been when you had barely been able to keep your eyes open, the teacher's voice lulling you into a light sleepy state, that you noticed the tip of Seungmin's finger brushing your arm. You had turned slightly, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine, and instead of questioning what he wanted, you found a sheet of paper folded over the pen that had slipped from your hand. You had opened it discreetly, glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of your eye, curious, and didn’t even bother to suppress the grin that curved your lips as you read a tight “Can I have your phone number?” in his collected handwriting.

You had written it down quickly, going over each digit twice to make sure there could be no confusion, and slid it across the table for Seungmin to tuck it away. You had nodded goodbye to him as the bell rang, parting ways, him going to the opposite side of the corridor, to another class. You had grabbed your bag, and sighed, not so keen to attend your remaining lecture.

At least until twenty minutes into it your phone screen lit up, receiving a new notification.

from: unknown number: hey, is it true that mr choi’s classes are soo boring? or my contact in his classes has shamelessly lied to me?

The contact in Professor Choi's class was you, because you had complained the day before about his classes to Seungmin, and the unknown number had to be him. You put the phone under the table, hoping the teacher wouldn't notice, and typed in the answer:

from: me mmm, you shouldn’t trust your contact they wouldn’t be boring if you were here

from: seungmin 🫶🏼 naah, i bet my classes wouldn’t be boring if my contact could attend them

from: me you can't use my own sentence as an answer that's like cheating

from: seungmin 🫶🏼 would it be cheating if i bribe you with another cup of hot chocolate?

from: me whatever you say, lover boy

You had tried to imagine Seungmin’s reaction, your subconscious tricking you with images of him blushing in the middle of his class, and left the phone in your bag. That interaction had made your entire day.

From then on, you continued to develop your friendship, intertwining yourselves like a tangled vine, unable to separate from each other. You shared more hours in the library, actually talking in between classes—in between and during classes—, and even hanging out together in some afternoons, when the summertime was closer and you ignored the upcoming exams with his guitar and iced tea in the park.

You too learned to enjoy the revising period leading up to the finals season, by exchanging knowing glances and turning boring lessons into jokes. You left your quiet table for the privacy of your dorm room, and he became comfortable enough to stop acting shy and feel like in his own home. You helped each other take breaks when the stress got too much, and explained what you knew better if the other one couldn’t quite understand the subject. He was the perfect study partner, and it had reflected in your grades, none of which had dropped below a C.

At the end of finals, once you had finished your second term and the beginning of your degree at college, Seungmin had invited you to one of the pubs his friends had shown him. He wanted to properly celebrate a successful academic year, and excused himself for not inviting them—he wasn’t ashamed of you, he just hadn't wanted them to say anything stupid in front of you.

But you hadn’t missed them, and neither did he. With a glass in his hand, he had followed you to the dance floor every time you had asked, his neck flushed and his eyes shying away from your figure when he realised the alcohol had disinhibited you enough to move your hips freely, flirting non-stop. It had been a memorable night, though you hadn’t kept a lot of memories, just inebriated snippets. When three in the morning struck, he was the one who escorted you to your dorm, just to make sure you got there safely, and you had been the one who drunkenly begged him to stay with you.

He woke up in the same bed as you, limbs intertwined, and almost dizzy at the softness of your skin against his.

The following summer break had distanced you a bit, each enjoying a couple of months of relaxation back with your family, although you did text weekly to each other with updates about your lives. But September started, and when the second semester began, it did so with many hours of late arrivals to class—something you hated, but which was certainly more bearable in his company and because of him.

You would gather together as soon as you arrived at the faculty on one of the benches by the entrance—him sitting comfortably with his ankle on his thigh, you with your knees against your chest, jumping from conversation to conversation until the bell started ringing. It always startled you, the high pitched, thundering sound, and you would always run up the stairs together, to get to class before the teacher.

You had learned to cope with it because somehow the stress of being late was compensated by the way Seungmin would touch you so he wouldn't lose you in the corridors. Hovering behind you, like a guard dog, guiding you to your class with his hand resting on the small of your back, making sure you got in before he wandered off into the crowd in search of his own, in case you didn't share it.

And in the free hours you had gotten to know his friends, or at least some of them. The first time had been in a class that had been cancelled last minute, on your way to the library, when you had seen Seungmin’s silhouette in the cafeteria, his broad shoulders framing the back of the chair. You had felt a little bit awkward at first, but still greeted them both—the short boy and the narrowed-eyed one—with a bashful smile, before asking them if they would let you sit in the chair by Seungmin’s side.

You had seen the knowingly smirks, and also their suspicious gazes, but they had made you feel like a long time friend of theirs, so you had shaken the creepy feeling out of your body. You had stayed silent most of the conversation, listening to their jokes and anecdotes, smiling upon the fact that they treated Seungmin like a brother—teasing him to death. And from then on you had always found a free seat by his side in your gatherings.

Your easiness with them, with Changbin and Jeongin, had solidified at about the same time you accepted that Seungmin just saw you as one of the group, and you had tried to stop getting your hopes up. Throughout the academic year, you had begun to participate in more conversations with his friends, becoming a little bit more social around them, and even actively participating in class, interacting with classmates and getting to know some girls with whom you thought a friendship could develop.

You had noticed Seungmin had been turning somewhat distant, but with your mandatory Friday movie nights and your weekly coffee dates—hot chocolate for you, he made sure they didn't mess it up again—, you assumed he had simply decided that he had more priorities, or had found himself so comfortable in your presence he didn't feel he had to contact you every second of his day. You were fine with having any part of him he decided to share with you.

At least until the beginning of your third year, the night of Minho’s birthday celebration. That October night you arrived late to the restaurant where the group had decided to hang out in, and the place where you normally sat, to Seungmin's right, was occupied by a freckle-faced blond you had seen around the dorm on some occasion. You greeted Seungmin with a quick kiss on the cheek, giving a high five to Jeongin, and went straight to the birthday boy, to congratulate him with a tight hug.

You had spent the whole week crocheting cute fruit-shaped hats for his cats, just because of a joke you two had, and Minho’s genuine reaction to the gift was to stand up, take you in his arms and turn you around, both of you giddily giggling.

You remembered that he had told you he couldn’t wait to get home to try them on his babies, and you commented that it was a crime for him to be all alone at the end of the table on such a special day. With that excuse, you sat next to him, leaning like two old oaks so that you could hear each other over the music, your knees touching and his arm over your chair, keeping you in his embrace.

At one point, after the whole group had gathered, during the dinner, when you followed Minho’s unfocused gaze directed at Seungmin, you discovered such a hard acrimony in his usually warm coffee eyes that you thought you had done something awfully wrong.

After that weird, tense moment, he didn't approach you during what was left of the night, not even to accompany you home, like he usually did.

You tried to talk to him about what had happened the next day, texting him when you woke up in your bed and he wasn't by your side. Seungmin, who normally would have been curled up against one of your pillows, didn't even bother to answer your message.

When you asked him again in the middle of the corridor, at the faculty, before a class you two didn't even share, you got no answer. You saw him building up anger and complex emotions inside, his narrowed eyes as transparent with his emotions as he usually was, but he refused to utter a word, leaving you to attend your lecture.

The absence of that trust you had thought you shared broke your heart.

And yet, that very same night he showed up at the university party night that Jeongin had organised—Thursdays were his favourite days to go out—still frowning. He arrived at the pub without even looking at you, as if it pained him to see you, deliberately sitting at the other end of the table.

That was the second time since the two of you had met that you weren't next to each other. You thought you shouldn't have been so sickenly desperate for his attention, so instead of begging for it, you just ordered a drink.

After the first sip, they just kept on coming.

You pretended not to care. For a few hours, you managed to make it seem real. But then that boy approached you, with the soft look Seungmin always gave you, and the same wide smile he reserved just for you… So you decided that knowing that you were willing to lie to yourself, at least you should get something out of it.

He took you to the dance floor, his polite hands sticking to holding you by your waist, and swayed to the rhythm of the music, his body pressed to yours. You pretended, again, it was him, and not this boy you couldn't even remember the name of. He was nice and gentle, and you had drunk a little bit too much, so when he slid his hands to your hips, and his mouth hovered dangerously close to yours, you couldn't help but allow it.

You exhaled a laugh over his lips, beaming smile under the coloured lights of the pub, and even though his body didn't feel right pressed to yours—it wasn't Seungmin's—you opened your mouth unders his when he kissed you, messy and hungry, and you kissed him back just as eagerly.

But the spell melted on your fingers as you parted, and you found all the details in his face that made him so different from Seungmin. He really wasn’t him, even if you had tried to pretend it did, and all the suppressed feelings flooded off you, eyes drawing in unshed tears.

You had apologised to him, again and again as you escaped his embrace, wandering around the dance floor until you collided with Changbin. He gave you a bright smirk, asking you how you were doing with Wonwoo, but the tragic pout that formed on your lips made him react, taking you by your shoulders and interrogating you about the guy, Wonwoo, trying to understand if he had crossed a line with you, if you were okay.

All you had managed to do was deny, before drunkenly asking him to take you home.

It was a terrible night. For you, crying for a certainty that felt heavy in your heart, throwing up until the first lights of dawn, and for him, who stayed and nursed you to sleep. And it was also terrible to wake up, when you realised you were alone in your flat. Alone, tangled in your sheets, and the alarm clock ringing, reminding you that you had a schedule to follow, and you had to go to class.

Seungmin was not on your self proclaimed bench when you arrived, as he hadn't been since Minho's birthday, but you sat down to wait for him anyway—just in case. And when the bell rang you walked up the stairs, slowly, hungover, like a ghost wandering the corridors of the faculty, ignoring the professor's disapproving face when you interrupted his speech by opening the door of the class. You paid no attention to his words, sitting down and doodling on your notebook, enduring as best you could the hour that lasted, leaving as soon as it was over.

You skipped the next one. It wasn't responsible, you knew, but it hadn't been responsible either to go to a pub on a weekday, and you had still attended to Jeongin's invitation. If the consequences to your actions were going to be going back to your dorm to sleep some more, you were glad to comply.

The quietness of the library sounded good, too, but it held too many memories.

So you put on your headphones, drowning the background noises to nothingless. And you wandered back to your dorm, weighted steps over the pavement, gaze sliding around the landscape… Until you saw him.

With his navy blue backpack slung over his shoulder, and the brown sweatshirt you had stolen from him in some chilly afternoons. He was going to class, you supposed, when you made eye contact with him. But you forced yourself to ignore him, continuing on your way.

You couldn't face him. All you could think about was the way he had avoided you, even when you had asked him why, and how you had kissed another boy just because it looked like him. You went upstairs in your building, the necessity to get as far as possible from him bubbling in your chest, walking through the doors of the elevator.

You knew he had followed you, but you wanted to be able to ignore him too.

Until you heard him.

“I love you,” he whispered, and you stopped dead in your tracks, paralysed. He then repeated it, this time louder. “I love you, I’m so sorry but I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned around slowly, utterly convinced that it was your imagination.

You took your headphones out, letting them rest around your neck, and looked at him—watched his expression. But his kicked out, glassy eyes were a reflection of how you actually felt, the waterline of his pretty eyes covered by a bubble of unreleased tears, and brows pitched.

You didn't feel as hungover anymore.

‘Ding!’

You reacted before the doors of the elevator closed, pressing the button on the panel, and took a trembling step out of it, into the hallway.

He looked tortured. His cheeks were coloured red, flushed with the shame that let you know everything you could think was true. Still, he was looking at you with a devotion you doubted he could feel towards you, like you hung the stars in the sky. But you had heard him.

Had you?

“What do you mean you love me?” you asked, and you hated the way your voice quivered.

“Don't—” he said, and he paused, like he knew he could mess everything up in seconds. “I love you. I hadn't realised, or maybe I did, but I hadn't accepted it until a couple of weeks ago.”

“What—”

“I love you, and I'm sorry because I've been an asshole about it, and you didn't deserve it,” he added, interrupting you. You shut your mouth, trying to understand what he was implying. “I got so jealous… When—You spent the whole night with him, and he did it on purpose, and I couldn’t—And then you kissed him and I—I didn't know what to do with what I felt about it—About you.”

He locked his eyes with yours, and he looked so broken it was almost tragic. But you were putting together the pieces of his improvised, chaotic speech—he was talking about Minho, about you, about you two—, and you couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips.

You nodded, taking a step towards him.

He seemed frozen in the middle of the hall, frozen as you approached him, air caught at his throat as you slid a hand over his shoulder, like you always did before hugging him. You looked up, innocent beam in you eyes, and whispered into the shell of his ear:

“I love you too.”

His breath hitched, your mouth close to the corner of his lips, and his heartbeats quickened under your hand as you rested it on his chest, mirroring yours.

And then you kissed him. Eyes closed, devouring his sweet sighs as he pressed you to his body, backpack long forgotten on the floor. You kissed him, and his relieved smile, as you grinned into his mouth, sliding your hand up until you buried it into his hair. And he took you by your waist, and he hummed into you, and you breathlessly giggled when he pushed you into the wall at your back.

“I love you too,” you repeated, kissing him again and again, and you couldn't understand his answer but his lips were over yours again, carving those three words into your mouth.

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© mars.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🔭 ˚. ⋆͏

[yourreality-mp3]

Natsuki continued slowly down the sidewalk, passing shrubs and fenced houses. She slowly made her way toward the door in the very middle of the rows of homes but this was no home, it was merely a house...

"Story Telling"- A Natsuri fanfic

Chapter 2 - "House."

Warning for: parental abuse, transphobia

Natsuki entered the house and was greeted by dirty dishes and flies buzzing, it was a disgusting sight but it wasn't her problem unless she wanted to bake and tonight, she had plans. She snuffed the dirt and grime that littered the house and made her way up the stairs, closing her door and locking it behind her.

The pink curtains and overwhelmingly pastel colouring all around had been there since she was young, though she was pressured to grow up and move on, she never once caved to those demands. She knew who she was and she'd be damned if she ever listened to anyone's bullcrap.

Moving on, she began changing into causal clothing, a nice pink tank top and white shorts which she grabbed from her closet were folded in her hands when her eyes suddenly landed on the mirror and her body was filled with several bruises and cuts from the abuse she'd suffered since age 10. Angered at her own weakness, she put the clothes on and fell back on her bed.

She suddenly sprung up and dashed for her bag, grabbing the book Yuri had given her for the night. On one hand, she didn't want Yuri to gain any upper hand upon seeing Natsuki take interest in her stupid, convoluted, over complicated, pompous literature but on the other hand....Natsuki was really enjoying the book. Shocked and disgusted by her own excitement to read something she deemed so dumb, she swallowed her pride and began to read.

And read she did, for hours and hours on end; with every little word she was immersed deeper and she found herself thinking of Yuri in a more positive light. She giggled at the different sticky notes with jokes about each character, notes about the lore and notes describing everything behind the scenes all written by Sayori. She planned on making it through the entire book in one night she was so immersed.

"Finally outgrew your manga?" Natsuki snapped her attention to her father in the door but she'd locked her door, hadn't she? "No," she began to defend herself, "This was given to me from a friend." She sat up, closing the book up and holding it to her chest. Her father looked her up and down, "You know, you don't have to do that fake high pitch voice." Natsuki looked away, anger on her face. "Could you get out now?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"I can't tell my co-workers about you if you keep dressing and acting like this."

"You wouldn't tell them about me anyway."

"I would if you stopped pretend to be a girl."

"You don't like anything about me, don't use that against me!"

Natsuki stands and points to him angrily as they yell, "Against you?! I'm the one supporting you! I'm the one letting you do this to yourself!" Natsuki's eyebrows immediately furrow at that statement. "Support?!" Natsuki scoffs, "You sit there on your ass all day, you don't talk to me unless you're yelling, you haven't hugged me in years! The most you do is hit me!" Her father grabs her arm and yanks her.

"Talk to me like that again, I fucking dare you." She pulls away her arm and he smacks her across the face. She backed into the corner, "You never could fight me like a man anyway, maybe it's better you keep pretending." Natsuki feels at her swelling cheek to suppress the aching and her anger only grows as he walks away.

After a few moments, Natsuki stands and wanders to her mirror, she stares at herself; she knew who she was, she couldn't change that. This was her, the real her and that bastard could never change that. Brows furrowed, she punches the mirror and her knuckles start to bleed.

"Shit," Natsuki mumbles, wrapping her knuckles in bandages and then returning to her room and grabbing the book Yuri lent her. "At least he didn't rip this one up like my manga." Natsuki sighs and goes back to her door and closes it, seeing that the lock was picked before closing it.

Natsuki opens the book and finds her page again, sighing contently as she began to read once more...

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

If you're still doing arcane writing, could I request jinx x s/o who calls her "lucky charm".

It's cool if not and either way I hope you have a lovely day 💕☕

Requests for arcane are open!

Lucky Charm!

For starters, she did not understand why you called her your “lucky charm”

She has never been known as a symbol of luck ever since she was a kid

She never even really believed in luck probably

In her mind ever since she was a kid she had the deeply rooted idea that she is and only will ever be a jinx

Something that brought bad luck, chaos and death

It’s so deeply rooted that she cannot fathom that someone viewed her as anything else

Especially luck

But for some reason when you came into her life, you did!

She was very confused when you started it, even saying sometimes to quit it out

She thought it was meant to mock her at first

“But you’re always there to save me! Everything’s always right when you’re with me.”

Was probably something you had told her

It made her freeze up for a moment probably because yes, she would and always will be there to save you

She loves you, and you’re one of the very few good things in her life, she can’t have ya dying on her!

But the fact that you think whenever she was around everything was good and right and everything was well was unfathomable to her

“Don’t mock me…” was a very common saying after that

You had to work very very hard for her to know that no, it wasn’t meant to mock her, but you genuinely believed she was your good luck charm

After time it made her feel a bit giddy

That you, someone she loved dearly, loved her so much back that you wanted her around to be your good luck charm

So she basically used it as an excuse to always be around you

She loved hearing the nickname fall from your lips

She also loved playing into the “good luck kisses” before missions

Saying that everything will go to shit if she doesn’t give you your kiss

She knows it will go right cause she’ll be there with you, but still

She loves that she’s your good luck charm

It makes her feel like less of a jinx and makes her feel loved

Like she’s not just a monster that brings chaos

But just a teenage girl in love and loved back

[fxirybun]

💭 PAC: your DR s/o’s messages for you

this is a shift-related pick-a-card reading. DR means “desired reality” whilst s/o means “significant other”.

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ cat 🐈

thank you for being my source of light during my lowest point. you inspire me to think things positively and to motivate myself to improve on certain aspects of my life. your words of reassurance comforted me when I was doubting myself and my abilities of striving forward.

i see you as my mentor , the one who teaches me the art of appreciating oneself. you make me want to be a better person for you , sweetie , and I mean it. i don’t want to succumb myself in the dark any longer, and it was all thanks to you. thank you at the bottom of my heart for accepting me for who i am , even though you have seen my vulnerable side.

i may not be the perfect person that you wanted me to be , but I would like to ask you if you could give me a chance. a time for me to adjust myself and to reflect upon the flaws i have. life has been cruel to me ever since , and it was all because of the karma that I need to face from my past. but all this enduring misery led me to you and that our paths are meant to be crossed.

ෆ⸒⸒ coffee ☕

i came here to write down my thoughts about our connection. i've encountered numerous people in my life , who want to have a piece of myself and taste it for their pleasure. however , i can feel my heart wandering as if it were in constant search of something , of someone. who knew that this stained heart of mine was craving for you ? as i laid my eyes on you , i can feel the everlasting warmth that is emitted from you.

my sweetest devotion , your beauty outshines the rest , and better yet , i instinctively can see myself transforming into a moth , trying to come closer to the luminous star that can be only seen during the evening. i love how nurturing you are and that your intentions are pure , similar to how a mother fosters her children.

i would be lying if i told you that I’m not enthusiastic about our meeting. as a matter of fact , i'm getting impatient and am very much eager to encounter you sooner. i've been reckless about my actions in life by making poor choices and dating multiple people who would bring me more harm than good. please forgive me , my love , for being clueless that you were the one who could fill my heart’s desire.

ෆ⸒⸒ earphones 🎧

i've been meaning to write down my thoughts , though I’m not sure words can capture how much i miss you. i've met countless people , crossed paths with those who’ve sought my attention , but none have stirred my heart the way you do. lately , it feels as though my heart is wandering , always searching for something that’s missing—and that something is you. without you near , it’s as if a piece of me is lost , drifting in the void.

i think back to the moments when i was by your side , and the warmth you bring feels like a distant memory i can’t let go of. your presence has an undeniable gravity , pulling me in like the moon draws the tide. even in the quietest of nights , i find myself longing for the sound of your voice , the comfort of your touch. my world feels dimmer without you here , as if the light only returns when you’re close.

i never thought that i'd feel so incomplete in someone’s absence , but the truth is , i'm counting down the moments until we can be together again. every day that passes without you feels like a lifetime. please do know that you are never far from my thoughts , and i'm longing for the day when this distance between us is finally closed.

[savi-our]

Hello! I have a request

would you be willing to do a Syrup, Mutt, Edge, (and maybe possibly Coffee as well) x reader who is a cute little innocent sweetie pie who loves being lovey dovey with their bf?

Have a wonderful day/night!! ♡♡♡

☕Hi! Thank you for the request, I really do appreciate it! That being said I've only recently woken up from a stress induced motivational coma so I apologize if what I've written here is maybe a bit off.💀 I'm trying to slowly get back into writing so this is kind of a warm up/character reintroduction. I ended up skipping Coffee for now but I might add him on later in a reblog - hope that's okay!☕

FS Papyrus - Mutt

Ouch

This man would pass away.

Mutt is by no means a stranger in affection, the opposite really - but that only applies to people he doesn't really see as romantic interests, and by that I mean flings or one night stands for the pure fuckery of it. When it comes to pure and innocent romantic affection though? Stars save him. Mutt is probably the worst when it comes to pure affection, he has no idea what to do, think or how to act - and it would take him a good while to actually get used to it, so depending on what stage it is in the relationship, the reactions will be widely different.

If its new then he'd be an absolute mess, almost like an awkward prepubescent teen trying to poker face his way out of confronting his crush. Every time you'd kiss him softly, every time you'd squeeze him in your arms, every time you looked at him with nothing but pure affection in your eyes - devoid of any ulterior motive, his mind would go blank.

Even though you'd be in a relationship, he'd be crushing - BAD.

He wouldn't be able to keep his mind off of you, the way your hand fit in his, the way your smile made his soul hitch, how cute you looked on your last date. It would be embarrassing, the way he could recall every outfit you ever wore out with him without even having to think about it, the way sweat pooled in his palms whenever you held hands, the way all of his rehearsed pick up lines dried up and turned into dust whenever you blinked up at him with those big eyes of yours. He'd be a mess, and he'd make it his life's mission to hide it.

Later on he'd get accustomed to it - to romantic love that is, and it would come more naturally to him - but that comes with its own "issues".

He wouldn't be able to stop thinking about you in other ways, in ways that his dirty mind used to openly invite.

He just wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it, how innocent and pure you were, how loving, how he could make you feel good in every way imaginable.

I've mentioned this before but Mutt has a serious case of corruption kink, so you can imagine his excitement over the dynamic as a whole.

SF/FS Papyrus - Syrup

Syrup adores you - no, I mean, really. Syrup would go for any type of personality, the person just has to peak his interest in the right way - and by that I mean the way that actually makes him feel something other than utter indifference - and once that's been accomplished? There's nothing you can do or say to tear him away from you (no, again, I mean that seriously)

So a lovey-dovey and innocent s/o? He'd be very satisfied indeed. He'd take you out on the perfect dates, without you even having to tell him where you wanted to go.

He'd give you all the best gifts, even the ones you didn't know you wanted.

He'd spoil you with affection, greedily drinking in every interaction like a man deprived.

Every time you'd kiss him, he'd purr, low and needy, and often those innocent kisses would escalate because he couldn't possibly help himself - especially with how sweetly and naively you'd look at him sometimes. He'd relish the amount of trust you'd place in him, how those bright and sparkling eyes looked at him like he was the love of your life.

You drove him mad sometimes.

He'd constantly look out for you, because surely such a sweet and innocent thing like you needed to be protected, to be sheltered and doted on.

He'd protect you from the people who found faults with the way both of you expressed your love, because surely you don't need such negative people in your life - you were too pure to concern yourself with such thoughts.

He'd take care of you - every and any need you have. You didn't need to think about anything else, anything else but you and his relationship was just idle distraction, there was no need for you to go outside, in that shitty miserable world, for work or for leisure or for fresh air - he can bring it all to you instead.

You were too innocent, too sweet and loving for the outside, its best you stay right here, right where he can keep you all to himself, away from any dangers.

You don't have to worry about anything else, just keep looking at him with those sweet, innocent eyes and he'll do the rest.

UF Papyrus - Edge

Here's the thing, while I fully write the boys as characters who would absolutely go for most any type of personality - Edge is one of my more complex and needlessly opinionated characters. Why do I mention this? Because Edge has a serious upper limit to affection - especially in the beginning stages of relationships. Edge will hardly ever allow any PDA outside of the occasional hand on the small of your back or the momentary brush of his fingers against yours - and its not because he dislikes affection, its more so the consequences of his upbringing.

This also translates to private moments between his s/o. Id like you to imagine a stray feral cat, or maybe an abused fighting pit dog that is suddenly found a forever home and has to now suddenly go against every instinct he's ever had because he loves you and the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you - but here's the thing, you cant expect him to just be okay with affection even if he loves you. So to get to the point, overly lovey-dovey stuff wont be his thing, UNLESS he's the one initiating the affection. It has to be on his terms, and believe me, he does want affection, but considering his underground had the equivalent of a deserts worth of examples of how pure and innocent affection goes, most of it will be either awkward, almost scripted attempts of recreating romantic movie scene settings OR sexual intimacy (there was no shortage of sexual intimacy examples back in his underground, it was the only affection that was deemed "appropriate") He does enjoy simple domestic things though. Cooking for you, watching you read or idle away on your phone whilst cuddled up next to him, safe and within his view. He would stiffen up whenever you leaned into him, sleepy from having just woken up. He'd love the feeling of your arms wrapping around him, you pushing yourself up against him whilst he's doing the dishes or some such, even if the gesture makes his face grow unbelievably red and his hands freeze up below the running water. The best affection you could give Edge is the very soft and delicate kind - the kind where you tell him about your day, nestled safely between his legs under the soft covers of your shared bed, your voice a hoarse whisper as you listen to his soul thrum steadily as you lay across his chest. He'd feel complete, in the calm of a gentle and understanding affection that doesn't suffocate him, but lets him sink into the warmth of your gaze, the touch of your soft hands and in the softness of your words.

[shadowbriar]

George Weasley - What Matters

Pairing : George Weasley x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.8k Warning : Takes place on the night after the Seven Potters event. Not proofread I'm too tired. Synopsis : Soothing conversation after what seems to be the greatest nightmare the couple had to live through. Notes : Part of Shadowbriar's 2024 Valentines Project. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

"Have you ever imagined a world where we’re not together?”

George frowns, lifting from the bed to lay on his side, his arm supporting his head. He watches her closely, seeing the glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. Supposed the nightmare of him arriving at the Burrow with blood soaking his shirt earlier was still etched in her mind. 

The plan was a success, should one argue. Their objective was met. Harry is now safe and sound, sleeping in Ron’s room like a baby. Though some sacrifices needed to be made, loss to mourn and cry for, at least knowing that what they fought for was achieved would be the softer side of the bed they’ll sleep on tonight.

“No, never.” He says firmly, trying to provide some comfort for her “Why would I ever think that?”

She shrugs, “Reasons.”

Gently, George reaches for her hand and places it to his chest. He hopes that it could ease her wary mind a little. He wanted her to feel his heart beat, to feel his heat, to feel him. He knows that it would take more than sweet words and tender embraces tonight to get them through the night, to get them just a blink of sleep no matter how sore and aching their bodies are, but he has no idea how else he could comfort her when he too was still a little shaken from the event that occurred.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, her voice shaky as she tries her best not to let the tears fall “I should be the one comforting you, but I just—”

“Shh, it’s alright, Darling,” George says as he pulls her close “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“I could have lost you.”

“But you didn’t,” He reassures, patting her head gently “You’ll never lose me.”

“But I almost did, George. I almost lost you.”

“Love,” George pulls away a little, staring deep into her eyes with that boyish smile “It would take much more than Voldy’s gothic underling to keep us apart, trust me.”

She forces a smile, one that didn’t truly reach her eyes. Her stare was still vacant, like she’s trying to comprehend her surroundings and finding firm stepping after the rug beneath her feet was pulled. There has been no greater horror, no bigger fear and terror than the one she felt a couple hours ago.

“I can’t lose you,” She says to him “I just can’t.”

“I know. I can’t lose you, either.” He says gently, caressing her cheek “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“What’s left of you, you mean.”

George raised an eyebrow, “Meaning?”

“You lack an ear,” She tries to jest, smiling slightly bigger though her eyes still welled of tears “Can’t decide if it makes you lose a couple points in the appearance department or if it enhances it.”

“The latter, of course. You have one hell of an unkillable boyfriend,” He says proudly, grinning “Reckon muggles write it on their papers? A bloody ear fell from the sky. Imagine the horror!”

Her laughter finally breaks. Though it didn’t last as long as George wished it would, the lingering smile on her lips was enough to tell him that the storm is slowly passing. Gently, he leans in and kisses her. How the night went by was certainly unideal but now that she’s here, laying on his bed, everything feels alright. Like the pain on his ear was reduced into a slight itch and the soreness of his body was caused by nothing but a typical quidditch practice.

The sigh she let go as they parted lifted tons of her burden. The corners of her lips were still curled, satisfied with the solace they could both find in each other though chaos still unravels around them. It was modest and unadorned, but much more than enough to soothe both of their scarred minds.

“I love you,” She says softly “I don’t want to ever imagine a world without you.”

“Then don’t,” George answers “Don’t imagine it, don’t think about it, don’t worry about it because it would never happen. It’s us or nothing, remember? That’s all that matters.”

She chuckles, “That’s a bit extreme now, init? Us or nothing?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have anyone other than you,” He argues, raising an eyebrow “Do you have anyone you’d have other than me?”

“There’s a short list of possible names.” She jokes once again “You’re in my top three at the moment, honestly.”

“I hate you.”

“Okay, top five now from that comment.”

George let out a satisfied laughter, pulling her head close to his chest that she could feel the echo of his chuckle and the steady beating of his heart. Her arms now encircle his waist. There seems to be too much space between them tonight though their bodies were cramped together on such a tiny bed. No close is close enough for the two right now.

“I hope you know I didn’t mean that.” She whispers to his shirt “There could be no one but you.”

“I know,” George says, planting a kiss to the crown of her head “I know, Sweetheart, I know.”

[writers-potion]

Making Fight Scenes Sound Nicer

Euphonics is all about how the words "feel". By incorporating certain sounds, you can influence the mood of the passage.

Mood: Foreboding

use words with 'ow', 'oh', 'ou', 'oo' sonds. These are good for building tension before the fight.

moor, growl, slow, wound, soon, show, show, grow, tow, loom, howl, cower, mound.

Mood: Spooky

use words with 's' sounds, combined with an 'i' sound.

hiss, sizzle, crisp, sister, whisper, sinister, glisten, stick.

Mood: Acute Fear

use word with 'ee/ea' sounds, with a few 's' sounds.

squeal, scream, squeeze, creak, steal, fear, clear, sheer, stream

Mood: Fighting Action

use short words iwth 't', 'p' and 'k' sounds.

cut, block, top, shoot, tackle, trick, kick, grip, grab, grope, punch, drop, pound, poke, cop, chop.

Mood: Speed

use short words with 'r' sounds

run, race, riot, rage, red, roll, rip, hurry, thrust, scurry, ring, crack

Mood: Trouble

use words with 'tr' sounds to signal trouble

trouble, trap, trip, trough, treat, trick, treasure, atroscious, attract, petrol, trance, try, traitor

Mood: Macho Power

If you wan to emphasize the fighters' masculinity, use 'p' sounds.

pole, power, police, cop, pry, pile, post, prong, push, pass, punch, crop, crap, trap, pack, point, part

Mood: Punishment

If your fight involves an element of punishment use 'str' sounds

strict, astride, strike, stripe, stray, strident, stroke, strip, instruct, castrate strive

Mood: Defeat

use 'd' sonds

despari, depressed, dump, dig, dank, damp, darkness, drag, ditch, drop, dead, deep, dark, dull

Mood: Victory

use 'j' and 'ch' sounds

joy, cheer, jubilant, jeer, chuck, chariot, choose, chip, jest, jamboree, jig, jazz, jive, rejoice, rejoin

In print, the effectiveness of such euphonics will be very subtle, and it can only serve as an embellishment to what you already have.

Don't use or replace words for the sake of achieving euphonic effects, but this can be something to keep in mind when you are editing your draft!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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