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withleeknow · 5 months

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wishful thinking. (06)

chapter six: like lightning

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, swearing, this chapter is also pretty mild in terms of warnings? the angst begins here tho !!! could've been more edited but yk lol word count: 4.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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If I never laid eyes on you Would I feel something missing? If you never laid eyes on me Would you know something’s gone?

Happy Accidents - Saint Motel

You don't know if you've ever changed, even once, in your life.

You feel like you're still 8 years old and your best friend is the neighbors' elderly dog that they let you play with every weekend. She's a golden retriever, and she would stand taller than you if she could walk on two legs.

You're still 16 and your happiest memories are of a boy who doesn't love you back. But all of your friends say that he does, and oh, how much you want to believe that their words are true.

And at the same time, you're 22, just a few months shy of 23, sitting in front of a canvas showcasing your own bleeding heart. Your growing pains, laid out by acrylics and gentle brush strokes. You liken yourself to the figure in front of you, the one that's standing in the corner of your painting, overlooking a sea of blues and grays. There's a piece of you that's left behind in everything you create. Sometimes, you leave it there on purpose, a memorabilia for your future self to look back at fondly.

You think of everything in your life that has changed and how you're the only thing that has managed to remain the same. The dog eventually dies and the boy moves on with his life. The passage of time is relentless but you seem to be the only one who can't keep up with the tireless flow. You're always running in place, always stuck behind in the end. There's a past in which you still live, one where you don’t know if you'll ever make it out of.

You think of home and the search comes up empty, like it does every single time. Home isn't here inside of your own body, nor is it within the four walls of your childhood bedroom. You've never felt like you belong anywhere. Everything is always fluctuating, constantly and unabatingly spinning and spinning and spinning when all you're asking for is a minute to stand still and catch your breath.

Home isn't always a place, that much you know. Maybe home isn't even a thing that you build but something that you find, in a person or a touch, in a feeling or a scent. Perhaps that's the problem, isn't it? Home is something you find, and you've spent your whole life searching.

People say your early 20s are supposed to be the best years of your life but that sentiment has never resonated with you. These are the years that you spend in excruciating limbo, where you're not an adult but you're forced to be anyway. The years where loneliness is an invisible friend that shadows you day in and day out, a presence you don’t want around but can't seem to shake off, a haunting that's far too gentle to be considered such. These aren't your best years; these are your saddest years.

None of it helps build character. It just hurts.

It hurts. You accept that it hurts. You keep on living, always accompanied by the hurt. At some point, it stops bothering you as much; you've grown numb to the way it stings, but it doesn't mean that there aren't days where you're pierced with a sudden and debilitating hollowness in your chest.

Here you are, half an adult but still a child, wondering if you know anything more than you did when you were 8.

You just want to go home, but you don't know where home is.

You look at the small pool of yellow acrylic paint that's been sitting on your palette for a while now. It feels so out of place among the other insipid tones, even though that has always been your intention - a burst of life amidst a sea of blues.

You don't think about anything in particular when your fingers pick up a brush and dab it in a generous amount of paint. It doesn't make much sense, but it feels right. You don't think about anything in particular when your hand smears the color on the cavas, on the figure, a startling stroke right in the center of her chest, contrasting all of the dulls and darkness surrounding.

Though, you do think of him afterward. Of him and daffodils and spring.

The rest of your friends are already present when you and Felix show up at Chan and Jess' shared apartment, holding boxes of pizzas and a case of beer.

It's a cute tradition that was started last year, when all of you promised to gather the final Friday of every month to have a cozy little dinner party among yourselves. It usually takes place at Chan's, since his apartment is bigger than the rest of yours, and because him and Jess are practically the parents of the group anyway.

The second you step into the living room, a chorus of groans erupts all around. Hyunjin and Jisung are the most vocal petulant babies, pouting from their seats, complaining that you two took too long and that they've been starving for hours.

You and Felix shrug off your jackets before delegating the tasks to the lot of them, since you were in charge of picking up the food for tonight. Minho and Seungmin grabbing plates and cups from the kitchen for Changbin and Jeongin to set on Chan's large coffee table.

You opt for a seat on the carpeted floor, next to the spot on the cream-colored couch where Minho left his phone, feeling more comfortable this way since the table is a little low for your liking. They come back a few minutes later, and you smile up at Minho when he reclaims his seat on the couch.

"Hi." He smiles back, smoothing a hand over your hair in greeting.

"Hi," you say. Even a touch so simple warms you up from the outside chill you were in mere minutes ago. No one else notices his lingering hand on you, or it's just such a you and Minho thing to be mildly affectionate with each other that the others don't care to comment on anymore.

You all fall into easy conversation soon after everyone starts digging in, chatting amongst yourselves as you always do. You and Hyunjin lament about your respective projects, reiterating the frustration that you've already expressed through your texts for the zillionth time. Chan and Jess nag Jeongin about introducing his girlfriend to the group, to which the younger one responds with an exaggerated groan as one would when their parents ask about grandchildren, though he does placate them by promising to bring her along the next time there's a party.

You don't care enough to tune into Minho's conversation with Changbin and Felix about the new gym they started going to. You do, however, catch Changbin's attempt to tease Minho. A playful scoff, followed by, "Minho lost his abs ages ago."

Your response is automatic and therefore, it doesn't warrant much thought from you before the words are tumbling out of your mouth. "No, he has abs. They're still there."

You don't recognize the weight of your words until you notice all chatter has halted, and you look up to find all eyes on you.

"How do you know that?" Jeongin is the one to voice everyone's collective thought, puzzled, a little surprised.

"Yeah, isn't Minho notoriously weird about that stuff?" Felix adds.

You blink in a daze, and you don't know if your face is reddening because of embarrassment but you sure hope that it isn't. The mouthful you're munching on gives you a reason to stall, your reputation of being a slow eater makes the excuse more believable when you don't answer right away.

As subtly as you can, you nudge Minho's leg with an elbow. He just laughs, though you're pretty certain he can tell that you're internally freaking out.

"I was walking her home from class a few weeks ago and we got caught in the rain. She let me come up to her apartment to change," he says calmly.

You remember that day. He was walking you from campus back to yours, so that part was true. But it didn't start raining until you were both sheltered in the comfort of your apartment, with him on top of you as he fucked you nice and slow on the couch. You didn't know when the rain stopped, but it must've been some time during your shower that you offered him to join with the innocent intention of cleaning yourselves up and saving water, only for him to end up on his knees with his face between your legs and his fingers buried deep inside of you. He'd made you come three times that afternoon, then took you out to udon afterward.

"And you just... changed in the middle of her living room or something?" Changbin asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Minho shrugs, completely nonchalant. "Yeah."

The silence in the room persists as you swallow down the bite. Their stare lingers on the pair of you, then they turn to look at each other like they're speaking a secret language that you're unfamiliar with. Why is it such a scandalous thing for you to see Minho without a shirt? You've seen your other guy friends shirtless numerous times before, when all of you are hanging out in someone's apartment on particularly hot summer days.

Though, they aren't wrong. The arrangement between the two of you muddles your memory, but you don't really remember seeing Minho flaunt his bare skin often before.

You're about to squeeze out a weak response to aid Minho's explanation, but your friends just start nodding along in acceptance.

"I guess that makes sense. If there's anyone who would see him naked, it'd be Y/N."

This definitely makes you blush. Minho laughs again.

"What?! I did not see him naked."

Well, look who's a liar now?

"Y/N, and whoever he's banging," Hyunjin supplies, which seriously doesn't help the flush on your cheeks at all.

"Why would it make sense that it was me?" you protest.

"Because you're his favorite." Jess is the one who answers, to which the rest of your friends all hum in agreement. The way they're reacting makes it seem as though it's just a fact of life that you're Minho's favorite, and that whatever boundary he lets you cross or whatever rule he breaks when it comes to you is simply a result of this fact.

Not once has it crossed your mind that everyone might have a favorite person in the group, but now that it's been said, you quickly conclude that Minho would be your favorite too (your secret arrangement notwithstanding.)

You glance up at him, seeking reassurance with a curious blink. "Am I?"

"You're alright," is what he tells you in lieu of a confirmation. "The least annoying one."

And you don't know if it's the way he speaks ever so gently when he looks at you or how his lips curl up in a knowing smile that sends a tingle of warmth down your spine. Or perhaps the culprit is the softness in his sharp eyes that makes you a little dizzy, makes a pair of butterflies go rampant at the pit of your stomach, as though they're prepared to soar when the ardor of spring begins to thaw the winter frost.

Chan laughs, "That's practically a declaration of love from Minho."

At one point, Hyunjin looks around and comments with a mouth stuffed full of pizza, "Wow. We are literally perfectly divided."

All eyes fall onto him, clearly no one is catching his drift.

Hyunjin swallows his food and washes it down with a big sip of beer before gesturing vaguely at the group, "All the singles are on the floor."

You look at the people on the couch while they stare back at you, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Changbin and Felix sitting comfortably on the fluffy rug.

"I'm single," Jisung says, pointing at himself. "Should I get on the floor?"

"No, you're not," Seungmin says flatly.

"What?"

"Didn't you get back together with your ex girlfriend?"

"What?" Jisung practically squeaks out. "Man, what are you talking about?"

"I live with you. We literally share a wall. I heard you last week. The whole two hours."

“You were home?!”

"My shoes were by the door. I had dishes in the sink. I went to the bathroom to pee several times."

Jisung gasps, growing redder and redder as more eyes start diverting their attention to him. He opens his mouth only to promptly close it as he thinks of what to say. Repeats the process a few times. "We didn't hear you. You never said anything," is what he settles on stuttering out. Then, "Why didn't you bring it up? Why do you have to air out my dirty laundry now?"

"It's more entertaining to embarrass you in front of everyone." Seungmin shrugs, and ignores Changbin's subsequent comment calling him a pervert. "And no wonder you didn't hear me. You were going at it like you were rabid."

"Wait," Jeongin says, "when did you even get back together?"

"We didn't. It's complicated! We're just… y'know…"

When Jisung trails off sheepishly with the bright blush still apparent on his cheeks, Minho cuts in, finishing his sentence bluntly, "Boning."

You send him a glare from where you're seated on the floor, to which he just gives you a lopsided grin and nudges you with his knee.

While everyone else is busy bombarding Jisung with questions on potentially getting back together with his ex, Minho quietly slithers down to the floor like a stealthy cat, squeezing himself into the space between you and Felix. Minho rests his arm behind you on the couch, leaving it stretched out comfortably on the cushions, just lightly touching your back. Usually, when you two are alone, he would have his arm wrapped around your shoulders so he could pull you close, until you're safely tucked into his side where you would remain on most of your evenings spent together. But for now, he leaves his arm where it grazes you only slightly as you sit among friends, with the exception of his hand reaching to play with your hair once in a while.

"Hey!" Hyunjin practically screeches, pointing at Minho when he notices. "Why did you get on the floor?"

"What?" Minho asks innocently. "You said the singles are on the floor."

"You're not single. You have a girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Hyunjin scoffs. "You have a sneaky link."

"Hmm, not the same as a girlfriend."

"Why can't you just tell us, man? There's gotta be something else you're hiding."

You stay quiet, still as a statue while they bicker back and forth, like the mere motion of your breathing could give your secret away. You don't doubt that Hyunjin has been hounding Minho about his new discovery ever since the night of Yeonjun's party, but Minho seems unfazed about it, evading Hyunjin's badgering with a calm composure that's distinct to no one else.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, quickly shuffling away as if your absence at the table would help make things seem less suspicious for Minho. You splash some water on your face, wait for a while until it feels like an appropriate amount of time has passed for them to have already moved onto another topic. You are, quite literally, hiding from your own friends.

Moments later, you re-enter the room with gentle footsteps and a certain tension in your spine, but you soon grow relieved when you find that the conversation has somehow shifted to Seungmin and his on-again off-again not-girlfriend, about which he just seems kinda sad for a few seconds before he's telling everyone to fuck off and mind their own business, always quick to conceal any and all emotions. He's similar to you in that way, you suppose.

You sit back down next to Minho who's still on the floor, though you put a little distance between your bodies that wasn't previously there. You don't know if it's enough to be noticeable, but he does look at you for a brief moment before leaning a bit closer, asking softly so only you could hear, "Walk you home later?"

You embark on the familiar route from Chan and Jess' place back to yours. It's not that late, barely even 10PM on a Friday night, but the streets are almost deserted. Barely anyone tipsily roaming the streets with their friends in tow; just a few cars passing by every now and then. You relish in the peace and quiet, sighing softly to yourself as you walk in the crisp evening air.

Minho takes casual strides next to you, letting his hand brush against your hand for a while until his pinky finds its way around yours. The tranquility of the city is nice, but being with Minho is even nicer.

Just some of the stars have come out to play, though the way they gleam and glimmer is enough to make up for what they lack in numbers. It's easy to get lost tonight, when you're looking up at an infinite sky with little light and only Minho's pinky hooked around yours like an anchor to guide you back home.

In the grand scheme of things, you're just a speck of dust. You're young and confused - 23 is still a child in your mind - and most of all, you're insignificant. Not in a self-disparaging way. Maybe in the literal sense of the word would be more accurate.

You are insignificant, merely a face among billions of faces. In a crowd of hundreds, or maybe only dozens, you're not someone who would stand out and be picked. Sometimes, it's nice to blend right in and hide in plain sight; you don't particularly enjoy being under the spotlight anyway. But sometimes, it's lonely to be just a drop in the ocean. You could sink right to the bottom and no one would even notice.

Maybe that's why you enjoy being around Minho so much. He makes you feel safe, and seen, like you matter in the end. He makes you feel like if you were to disappear one day, there's a person out there who would go to the ends of the earth in search of you.

You hope that he sticks around, that he wants to be in your life for as long as you can have him. You're not sure what it is that makes you sick to your stomach at the mere thought of losing him; perhaps because you know you will never come across another one like Minho in your lifetime. There's nobody else that can make you feel the same way he does.

I don't want to lose you. You're the only good thing I have.

An intersection, two left turns, and your apartment building comes into view all too soon.

"Wanna come up?" you ask bashfully. The streetlights do a good job at masking your light flush.

"I can't tonight," he says, a little apologetic. "I'm going to my parents' house first thing in the morning."

"Oh." You're disappointed for no specific reason. Sure, you were practically glued to Minho's side for most of the evening, but you were also surrounded by the very friends who are unaware that you two have been sneaking around behind their backs. It's been about over a week since you hung out with him alone, which isn't that long ago by any means, but still. "For the weekend?"

"Yeah, just for the weekend."

There's a selfish urge, just a tiny one, to ask him to come for a while anyway, maybe only twenty minutes or so, but you swallow it down and wave it away. "Okay, have fun. Say hi to the cats for me."

"I'll send you pictures," he tells you. "They miss you, y'know."

You smile at that, laughing a little. "They've met me once."

Last fall, you and your friends all took a weekend trip to Minho's childhood home for his birthday. It was fun for you, though you're not sure how much his parents actually enjoyed it, considering they had to house and feed almost a dozen kids that weren't their own. You remember the cats, of course you do, and how Soonie took an immediate liking to you, how he mostly hovered around your personal space whenever you were in the house.

"No, seriously. My mom says Soonie meows your name once a day."

You throw him an eye roll, accompanied by a light punch to his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Min," you say. "Text me when you get home."

"Okay."

Even after that, the two of you still stay rooted to the spot, your pinkies interlocked. Minho's gaze doesn't leave your face, and for a moment there, it feels like most of the stars didn't show up because they all left to gather in his eyes.

"Can't go up if you don't let me,” you quip, glancing at your hands, knowing full well that you can easily retract your finger if you want to.

His eyes stay on you for just a moment longer. "Let me kiss you," he asks softly, releasing your pinky only to take your hand in his, tugging you closer until you’re all up in each other's personal space.

You blink at him, your heart caught somewhere in your throat. You're close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. "Min…" you murmur but you don't actually know what you want to tell him, so the nickname hangs like an idle lantern in the bubble of space between your faces.

"Just a goodnight kiss."

"Friends don't kiss," you say meekly, reminiscent of your conversation over a week ago.

"Friends don't have sex either," he repeats.

"But we’re not having sex."

"You asked me to come upstairs. What do you think we would've done?"

And he's right. If he had agreed to come up, then you would probably be pressed against the door right now, with his hands trailing down your body, removing every article of clothing they find, his lips kissing every exposed patch of skin along the way.

Minho would've been kissing you regardless - anywhere and everywhere, and you wouldn't have had any qualms about it like you do right now, even though you want to kiss him too.

"Maybe I wanted you to come up to make you peel tangerines for me while we watch a movie."

He says nothing to that, only grins amusedly and leans in to nudge his nose against yours. It's so cute that you can't help but mirror the quirk of his lips. You're sure that no one else gets to see this version of him - the one that boops you like an overly affectionate cat and smiles like you're his favorite person not just in your little group, but in the whole wide world.

"I haven't kissed you all week," he murmurs, his voice so gentle in the quietude that surrounds you. "You were right there but I couldn't kiss you all night."

You lose yourself in his brown eyes, the same eyes that hold nothing but sincerity and fondness for you. The stars here are brighter than the ones overhead.

"Let me kiss you," Minho says, "please?"

You cave. Of course you do.

The first glide of his lips over yours has you weak in the knees. Something sinks in as he kisses you deeply. Under the streetlights, not surrounded by your familiar four walls like a long lost secret but out in the open where anyone can see, even though there's not a single soul around.

Tears well up behind your eyelids the same way they did that morning you woke up next to him for the first time. You don't know what it is, never felt this way around anyone except for him. It's akin to the feeling of finally coming home after being away for a long time, or at least that's what you think that's how it would feel.

You don't want to be caged in by the walls of your own making. You want to be seen, and you want to be seen by him. You're the remnants of snow and ice stuck between cracks in the sidewalk, and he is warmth. You're a mosaic of a daffodil garden caught in an endless winter, and he is spring. Minho is the brief but wonderful moment when cherry blossoms have yet to fall from their branches, but green leaves are already growing impatiently, resulting in the beautiful coexistence of pinks and greens if only just for a few days.

You let him kiss you until you're both out of breath, let him wrap his strong arms around your body and hold you like he could mend all of your broken pieces. Maybe he could. Maybe you'd like him to make you whole again.

When Minho pulls away, he doesn't stray very far. He puts enough distance between your faces so you can catch your breath. But even then, you have a hard time getting air back into your lungs. He's looking at you like he would pick the moon for you if you asked, like moving mountains is no more difficult than peeling tangerines for you whenever you get a craving.

The streetlights are dim, but the stars in his eyes are bright enough to tell you something that his words don't.

It hits you all at once, in a moment where even the wind is still, as if it's been reduced to a mere spectator, watching the two of you with bated breath on the sidelines. The tipping point can be something as simple as him asking - almost pleading - to kiss you goodnight with no ulterior motive, no other intention than because he wants to. As though it would kill him if he had to go another minute without kissing you.

You realize why he's the yellow to your sea of blues, why you're so happy every time you look at the bracelet on your wrist. You realize why you feel so safe around him, why he makes you experience emotions that no one else can. You realize why you don’t like hearing about Hana, or any other person in the same sentence as his name with the implication that he could be romantically involved with them.

You realize why you kissed him for the first time all those months ago, and it wasn't because you were sad and he just happened to be there and let you cry on his shoulder. The times that your friends would tell you how you and Minho would be perfect together - you wanted it to be true. You knew it was true - that he was someone you could love, the only person who's worth opening up to. You kissed him because you wanted to love him. You realize why it made you soar when he kissed you back, because you wanted him to love you too.

You realize why the thought of losing this friendship terrifies you. You realize why you asked him to stay that night after the party and the club, even though you had never allowed him to sleep over before. You realize why the other week you let him only kiss you and nothing else, and you realize why your heart is hammering in your chest this very second, why your knees are weak, why you can't really breathe here in the middle of an empty street under a moonless sky, just because he's looking at you as if it's not the sun that the earth revolves around but rather, it's a girl who has never learned how to say what she means.

You're good at leaving things alone; it's a skill that you've unintentionally mastered over the years. Nothing has to change if you let it remain the same. And yet, the one exception always seems to be Minho, and you're a mirror of yourself when you're with him. You like the version of you that only he's able to bring out, and he does it effortlessly every time. He pulls happiness out of you so easily that it's hard to ignore what you feel for him, hard to convince yourself that what you harbor for him is still only platonic affection.

It comes bubbling up to the surface without your permission. It strikes you the same way lightning splits open the whole sky on a cloudless night, abrupt and unmistakeable. Love isn't something that you've ever come close to, and you have always been an unbeliever when people answer "You just know," in response to "How do you know when it is love?"

Though as you stand right here, right now, you think maybe this is what love is supposed to look like, personified with starry eyes and shallow dimples when he smiles.

Before he leaves, Minho presses another sweet kiss to your cheek. You're still dazed by the dawning, overwhelmed by the recognition that you can only mutter a stupid "Bye," when he bids you good night.

As you watch him go, there's something else you realize, almost tragically, that you've always been a ruiner. You run away the moment shit starts getting too real, even if it means letting beautiful things slip through your fingers like running water.

Love just isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

398 notes · View notes

changbunnies · 1 year

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Purple Hydrangeas (18+)

♡ Pairing: Sunshine!Changbin x Pessimistic!Reader

♡ Genre: angst, fluff, best friends to lovers

♡ Word Count: 7.1k

♡ Summary: Y/N is a pessimistic flower shop owner still suffering from breakup. Changbin is her sunshiney best friend who wants to cheer her up any way he can. Sweetness ensues :)

♡ Warnings: reader has depression and it is a focal point of the fic, discussions about readers past relationship, a lot of self doubt and blame, very very brief mention of a family member that has passed away, that's about it i think but let me know if i forgot something!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): i am once again bringing you soft!dom changbin, petnames (love, angel, baby), nipple play, oral (f recieving), fingering (f recieving), multiple orgasms, overstim, body worship ??, protected piv for once (shocking), a sprinkle of cock warming, changbin is rougher at the end (due to reader's request). as usual lmk if i forgot something!

♡ Notes: this fic was written for the @skzwritingcafe prompt “blossoming love” ! it's my first time taking part in a fandom event and i hope you enjoy it! <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Life is like a flower. The beginning of your life, you are a bud, ready to grow and full of opportunity. Then the bloom, where your life is the most vibrant and beautiful it will ever be, all the time spent nurturing the bud of your youth culminating into the best years of your life.

And lastly, the wither, the inevitable end that everyone faces, where your color drains and leaves wilt, until you are nothing. Some reach this stage faster than others, but it will always come, an unavoidable permanence.

Love is like a flower too– beautiful but fleeting, not meant to last forever. You learned all of this as a child, when gloom settled into you before you could even understand it was happening. And then again recently, when your boyfriend of over a year decided he was tired of dealing with your gloom, moving on to someone more vibrant, someone in the peak of their bloom.

You wanted to be angry, wanted to lash out in a bitter display of vitriol, but how could you when all of his critiques of your character were true?

There was irony, you think, in being so jaded about life while owning and working in such a beautiful place, where every flower held a profoundly positive message. A flower shop inherited from your late grandmother, who taught you everything she knew about gardening and the language of flowers. There were so many messages a flower could hold– love, hope, a sense of peace; all things you didn’t have.

Was it any wonder your boyfriend-turned-ex was tired of you? You always brought down the mood simply by existing. And the saddest part was that, even if he couldn’t see it, you were genuinely happy with him– the happiest you’d been in ages.

Maybe your personalities just clashed too much. Maybe your love languages differed too greatly, and the way you showed your care was lost on him. Maybe he couldn’t see who you really were underneath the dark layers, your light too dimmed even in your happiest moments.

All you know is he gave you hope. He gave you love and belonging and connection and then he ripped it from you, stating your ‘constant sadness’ as his reason. He couldn’t stand it anymore– being with someone who was never happy that is.

And yes, you were sad often (depression will do that to a person), but could he really not see that you were often happy when he was there? Maybe you weren’t good at expressing what you were feeling, or maybe he found it draining to be around someone who was gloomy more often than they were happy.

And that’s why you found yourself thinking you were never meant to be; he didn’t see the real you underneath the dark cloud that followed you. Or maybe he did, and didn’t like the reality of what he saw when the clouds dissipated.

Valid, you suppose; you don’t like what you see either. You’ve tried your hardest to change who you are, but the fabric that holds a person together is permanent. You try and try and try, with nothing to show for it in the end.

But you carry on regardless, hoping one day that someone will love you as you are, flaws and all. You cook yourself dinner, you force yourself into the shower, and you continue running the shop, because the alternative would be withering, and you don't want that to be your fate just yet.

The bell chime that accompanies the opening of the front door breaks you from your grim inner thoughts, bringing your attention to your first customer of the day. You stiffen at first, mentally preparing yourself to put on your best customer service persona, but you soften when you notice it's your best friend, Changbin.

“Y/N~!” he smiles as he practically skips up to you, his unfaltering vibrance immediately lighting you up. He always has that effect on you– cheering you up effortlessly, just from the simple act of existing in the same space as you. And though he could easily call you ahead of time to tell you he plans on coming in the shop, he never does, always leaving it a pleasant surprise instead.

You love when his loud voice rings out in your shop, excited to ask you for some new bouquet he doesn't entirely need but buys anyways just to support your business. He's always been like that– vibrant, positive, supportive and incredibly sweet. It was easy for you to become infatuated with him, even when your friendship first began in high school, but you’ve always done your best to push it aside.

You’ve tried your best over the years to not to think about how much you adore him– the way his nose scrunches when he smiles brightly, the loud exclamations that accompany him when he enters the room, the cute mannerisms he has when talking about something he cares about. You try to ignore his adorable habit of forming his lips into a pout when he speaks, or the way his eyes sparkle when you talk to him about his favorite things.

It was easier to put those feelings aside when you had someone else to focus on. You didn’t have to worry about just the mere existence of your best friend making your heart tremble when you had someone else to give your love to. But with each failed relationship, your heart always found its way back to Changbin.

And maybe it was your own fault for always keeping him a priority in your life while dating, but you couldn’t help it. Because in your darkest moments, while the most depressed and alone you’d ever felt, he brought illumination to your gloom-filled world, always a shining beacon in the darkness that is your heart. He just makes you happy; it’s as simple as that.

“I saw that hydrangeas are in season again,” Changbin smiles, pulling up the spare chair (that you have in the shop specifically for him) to sit in front of your work station. “They are your favorite right? The purple ones? You should make something with them!”

Leave it to Changbin to remember something small you’ve mentioned in passing. He’s always done that– remember even the most trivial of things you tell him, smiling cutely whenever he recites what you’ve told him at a later date. You don’t know how he manages to retain all that useless information, how he can be so attentive and earnest, but it’s easily one of the qualities in him you love most.

“Are you really going to pay for a bouquet of my favorite flower instead of your own?” you ask with a slight giggle as you begin to gather the things you need to get started. “Hey, as long as I’m supporting you, it doesn’t matter! Just make whatever you think is pretty,” he answers with a laugh of his own.

The truth is, he just wants to see you happy. He can tell you’ve been really down since your breakup (even if you don’t want to admit it to him), and this is his way of getting you to do something that you’d enjoy without being too obvious.

And he has tried the obvious methods, of course– like binging your favorite movies in his apartment while you eat popcorn, or taking you out shopping with him to get that new pefume you've been eyeing, but every time you realize what he’s doing, you make an excuse for him not to do it.

Variations of “oh, that’s okay, you don’t have to do that for me,” and “I’m fine Binnie, don’t worry about me!” leaving your lips every single time. He doesn’t understand why you don’t accept his care when he can obviously tell that you’re upset, but he figures you’ll accept his affection eventually. And until that day comes, he’ll commit himself to finding creative ways to show you he cares about you.

There’s a comfortable silence that follows as Changbin watches you work. If he’s honest, he could easily sit and watch you for hours. He loves seeing the way your brows knit together and tongue sticks out slightly when you’re focusing on something, and the way your smile beams when something comes together the way you want it to. You’re so cute, even you don’t entirely realize it.

“Hey,” he says, eventually breaking the silence, and you lift your head to look at him, a slight tilt to your head as a “hmm?” leaves you. “I just realized, I don’t think I know why purple hydrangeas are your favorite. Tell me about it?” He asks, genuine curiosity painting his face.

Changbin knows you well– is acutely aware that you know everything there is to know about flowers and their languages and meanings. Every little fact about them is committed to your memory, so if one of them is your favorite, it must be for an explicit reason.

You pause for a moment, debating on how much of your personal feelings you are willing to admit. Changbin is your friend, (a friend you most definitely have a crush on at that) but it’s still hard for you to talk about your feelings with him. And you have tried, but every time you feel like there’s a lump in your throat that prevents you from speaking, no matter how badly you may want to.

“The desire to understand someone. Like.. really understand them. I’ve always wanted that.. To be understood,” you end up answering honestly despite the nerves, using your work to avoid direct eye contact.

You’re not often open about things like this, always finding it extremely difficult to be vulnerable, but if there’s anyone you trust in this world it’s Changbin. He’ll never look at you with judgment or discrimination, just genuine care.

You look back at him now, taking notice of how intently he’s listening to you. He’s always done that, too– listen to you like there’s nothing else in the world that could take his attention away from you, like you’re the only one that exists.

You suppose that’s just him being polite or a good friend, as it’s only right to listen when talking to someone, but it still makes your heart flutter. And when he looks at you the way he is now, it makes you feel safe.

“I feel.. alone, oftentimes. And like no one gets me, or wants to even try to get me. Like I’ll always be this way, no matter what I do to try and change it,” you continue with your admission. He’s quieter than usual following your statement, but that’s okay.

You didn’t say it expecting any sort of special response, and you can tell by the crinkle in his brow and the pout on his face that he’s reflecting on your words. He’s genuinely thinking about them, what they mean and what they say about you, and that’s all you really need from someone. You can tell he cares about what you said, and that’s enough.

“All done!” You say with a smile not too long after, proudly holding out your completed arrangement for him to take. Maybe you're biased since it consists primarily of your favorite flower, but you truly think it’s one of your best arrangements. Changbin takes it from your hands, staring at it for a moment before looking up at you.

There’s a pause, a much longer one than usual, and you tilt your head, looking at him in slight confusion. “Is there something you need?” “Here,” Changbin says, holding it back out to you.

Huh?

You look at him, the bouquet, and back up to him. His expression is serious, much more than you’ve ever known it to be. “Is there something wrong with it? Do you not like it?” You ask with a frown, genuinely sad and confused by the uncharacteristic reaction he’s giving you.

“N-No, that’s not it, I..” he pauses another moment, red overtaking his face as he looks at you. Is he.. blushing? “This is how I feel,” Changbin continues, watching you intently for any change in expression as he speaks, “I.. want to understand you, I want to be there for you, I don’t want you to feel alone.”

Time feels like it stops around you, his words slowly repeating in your head as you try to process them. Regardless of platonic or romantic intention, hearing him say those words to you makes a myriad of emotions rush to the surface. You’ve always known Changbin cares about you, but to hear it like this makes your heart race; especially when he’s using your favorite flower as the conduit for his feelings.

You swallow, trying not to let the emotions pour out of you from a gesture so simple. With trembling hands, you accept the flowers from him, your heart jolting from his fingers brushing against yours. You've felt his hands a thousand times at this point, but it’s different in this moment. Everything is different.

"I love you,” he says, making you turn your attention back to his face. This isn’t the way he intended on confessing his feelings to you, but if you really feel as alone as you say you do then.. He needs you to know. He can’t let you think that there's no one in this world that cares about you as deeply as he does, he can’t let you think that there’s no one who will listen to you, accept you, and love you as you are.

Your stomach does full on summersaults now, mind racing impossibly fast. The incredibly handsome and simultaneously extremely cute friend you’ve been silently crushing on this entire time loves you? But he’s so vibrant and bright, and you’re.. You. What does he see in someone as gloomy as you?

“B-But I– I’m not–” you stutter, trying (and failing) to put your thoughts into words. You should be happy, but instead you feel dread, almost. You feel... Like he doesn’t realize what he’s signing up for, like once he realizes the true depth of your sadness he won't want to remain by your side. And even if he does stay with you, you’ll ruin him. You’ll strip him of his vibrance, taint his joy and drag him through the mud with you.

“You’re not what?” Changbin asks, concern written on his face and clear in his voice. “I’m.. not good for you, I– I’m too.. different,” you answer, nervousness palpable in your tone. “What do you mean?” His expression changes to one of incredulousness, as if you suggesting he could do better than you is ridiculous, as if he would never even consider it a possibility.

“It’s just– you’re so cheerful, and funny, and bright, and I’m.. the opposite. I’m sad all the time, it feels like it never ends. I was, I still am, trying to be better, like– seeing doctors and taking my meds, but.. I don’t want to drag you down, like I did with–” You immediately freeze, stopping yourself mid-sentence.

Shit. You haven’t told Changbin about why things ended with your ex before; obviously as your best friend, he knew you had a boyfriend and that things didn’t work out with him, but you never talked about it openly. You didn’t want to dwell on any of your hurt feelings when you were with Changbin, so you always kept the way things ended to yourself.

His expression changes, a sadness that is simultaneously soft and caring. He doesn’t know whether it's something your ex explicitly said to you, or is an opinion you hold about yourself due to your relationship failing, but he can't accept it.

You would never drag him down. He would never view your feelings as a burden, he would never expect you to bottle everything inside for his convenience, he would never look at you and think you should be anything other than what you are.

“Do you remember when we became friends?” Changbin asks and you nod hesitantly before he continues, “That was the hardest time of my life. I had so many thoughts and feelings I didn’t know how to deal with or express and you were there for me. You’ve always been there for me. Even if you didn’t consciously do anything, having you there was enough to make it better.”

“The only reason I’m so happy now, the reason I can be so cheerful is because of you. You've helped me more than you even know. Maybe I can't change what you think about yourself, but whatever bad you think there is, it's not what I see. I see someone incredibly accomplished, intelligent, considerate, beautiful. Worthy of love and kindness. That’s who you are. And I'm on your side, always.”

Any hope you had of holding back your tears crumbled the minute such sweet words left him, the crashing wave of previously pushed down, dormant emotions engulfing you entirely. Reaching out now, you hug him tightly, sniffling into his chest while he wraps an arm around you and brings a hand to your head, holding you closely to him.

You almost never cry in front of others, the vulnerability always making you feel embarrassed and ashamed. In fact, in all the years he's known you, Changbin can count on one hand the amount of times you've cried in front of him.

He always noticed the way you held it back when you were upset, how you would put on a brave face or a smile and continue on as if nothing happened. And he had admired that quality in you, but now he understands how lonely that must have been.

All the pain you silently harbored, all the tears you didn't allow to fall, all the thoughts you kept inside your head.. He hopes you know now that you never have to do those things again, that you don't have to be scared to show your authentic feelings to him. Because no matter how "ugly", he's not going anywhere. Because he loves you.

You let yourself stay like that for some time, indulging in Changbin’s comforting touch as months, maybe even years worth of repressed emotions tumble out of you. All you can do now is let the waves of emotion crash into you, until the tide of feelings recede back into the depths they were once stored in.

"Can you help me close the shop?" you ask when you finally pull away, wiping your face clean before you look up at him. "Of course, love," he gives you a sweet smile, giving your hand a comforting squeeze before he continues. "You can just head up now and rest if you want, I know what to do." He's helped you close the shop plenty of times in the past, so he's confident he can do it on his own.

You let out a soft 'thank you', deciding to take Changbin up on his offer and go straight to your apartment above the shop. Honestly, it's probably not the best idea from a profit standpoint to close this early in the afternoon, but that will have to be a problem for future you, because right now all you want to do is flop on your bed and bury yourself in your blankets.

And that's exactly where he finds you when he finishes closing up– wrapped in makeshift blanket burrito and work attire strewn on the floor, close to your hamper but not quite having made it inside. You poke your head out from under the blanket when you hear his voice call your name from the doorway to your bedroom.

“Can I join you?" he asks and you quickly nod, lifting a corner of your blanket up so he can crawl in next to you. He wraps his arms around you once he's under the blanket with you, urging you to rest your head against him. A comforted sigh leaves you when he starts gently rubbing your back, eyes closing as built up tension finally begins to leave your body.

Having emotions is exhausting, but being with Changbin makes it better. You hope this is what your life will look like from now on– wrapped in Changbin’s embrace, words of affirmation and care lingering in your ears, his vibrance bleeding onto you and turning you into someone that can be happy.

"Can I kiss you?" Changbin asks, voice almost a whisper and timid in its request. You give your approval easily, because obviously you want to kiss him. How could you not want to kiss the person you’ve been secretly in love with for ages?

His lips are soft, gentle against yours, hands careful in the way they roam your body. He longed to touch you, to know what it was like to feel your soft skin under his fingertips while he kissed you, to love you the way you deserved to be loved.

He’s always viewed you with the utmost reverence, would spend his nights imagining what he would do if he got even the smallest chance to show you, promised himself he would never leave you doubting if the opportunity was granted to be with you.

Your hands rest on his chest, his kisses making you impossibly dizzy despite how soft and slow they are. Because it’s Changbin, you think; because there’s no one else in the world that has held your heart in their hands the way he has. You realize now that there was never going to be any getting over him. No matter who else you entertained, who else you gave your love and care to, you’d always find your way back to him.

“Binnie, can you touch me? Please?” You ask during a brief moment of separation, voice soft and timid but still loud and clear in his ears. Do you even know the effect that question has on him? The way it sends a wave of arousal throughout his entire body? “God, yes, of course, anything you want,” he says before he’s kissing you again, albeit hungrier this time.

You feel his hardening cock twitch against your thigh, the close proximity of your bodies making it impossible to ignore– not that you even want to ignore it. If it were with anyone else, he might be embarrassed over being worked up over so little, but he’s not because it’s you; the only person he’s had eyes for since you entered his life in sophomore year of high school.

Carefully, he reaches a hand inside the sleep shirt you changed into, surprised to find that you’re not wearing a bra, though he supposes he shouldn’t be– of course you wouldn’t keep one on if you intended on being in bed the rest of the day.

He licks your lips as he squeezes one of your breasts in his palm, urging you to open your mouth from him. You oblige easily, letting his tongue lick and swirl around your own, soft moans and gasps leaving you with every gentle squeeze and thumb brush over your nipple.

“Can I take it off you?” he asks between breaths, and you hum in approval, separating yourself from him just enough to allow him to pull your shirt up and over your head.

“Bin, take yours off too,” you practically whine when he goes to kiss you again as soon as your shirt lands on the floor. “So sorry, angel,” he says with a low chuckle before he obliges, having no trouble pulling the loose shirt off himself with one hand.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, when swimming together or when he’s preparing to change into pajamas during a sleepover, but it never stops being a breathtaking sight. Large, defined muscles with an equally as defined chest, yet below lies a soft, cute tummy; it’s devastating how attractive it is– how attractive he is, specifically.

You lie flat on your back now, Changbin hovering above you and staring down at your exposed torso. “So pretty,” he says, smiling when it causes you to blush and look away. You have plenty of experience in things like this and don’t consider yourself all that shy but Changbin is.. Well, Changbin. A single look from him can turn you into a puddle, a simple compliment enough to have your heart beating out of your chest.

He takes one of your hands and brings it to his face, planting soft kisses to your fingertips, before having your hand rest against his cheek. He keeps his hand on top of yours for a moment, a silent request for you to hold it there when he takes his own hand away and kisses you again.

And so you do; you hold his face in your hand as his lips touch yours once more. You open your mouth, without any prompting this time, easily allowing him to slide his tongue against yours. He finds your other hand, taking it in one of his own and squeezing for a moment before he places it on his chest. He wants you to keep touching him, wants to feel your hands all over him, and this is his way of showing you, telling you.

He nuzzles his face into your hand when he separates from your lips before moving down to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. Your hand travels to the back of his head now, fingers tangling in his curly hair and tugging slightly when he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. A soft groan escapes him when you tug on his hair; it’s a feeling that delights him more than he ever anticipated it would.

You continue to touch him with your other hand, letting it run up and down his torso, over his chest, down his stomach, and then back up again, repeating the movements to your heart's content. “Keep touching me,” he says as he travels lower, lips ghosting the top of your chest, “don’t stop.”

His words make your stomach flip, a tingle spreading down your spine due to the request. It’s one you plan to oblige, even if his new position lower down your body makes the task slightly harder. His stomach no longer in your reach, you instead focus on rubbing over his shoulder and down the length of his bicep, a soft gasp of pleasure escaping you when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

He stays there for some time, alternating the attention between your breasts whenever he deems necessary and reveling in the feeling of your hands touching his body. So simple yet so intoxicating, he never wants you to be apart from him ever again, never wants to go without the feeling of your fingers in his hair or your palms on his bare skin. But eventually it becomes clear that you need more, he needs more, and he decides to continue making a path down your body.

"So beautiful," he whispers against your skin as he travels down your stomach and toward your legs, planting more soft kisses on your body along the way. It tickles, but at the same time it feels incredibly good; getting attention from Changbin like this is akin to a dream, something you once believed impossible for you to experience. And he is as attentive and caring now as he has ever been, leaving no part of your body untouched.

His fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling them off together in one motion. The way he stares down at your now fully exposed body makes butterflies erupt in your gut, the desire in his eyes palpable. Your legs unconsciously begin to close together, Changbin’s gaze on you making you the most shy you’ve ever felt.

“Please don’t hide from me, I want to see you,” he says, and wow, does that make the butterflies a million times worse. With a breath to try and steady your racing heart, you spread your legs, watching with bated breath as Changbin lowers himself between them. The sight in front of you, of the person you love most drooling in anticipation between your legs, is enough to make your head spin.

God, he wants to taste you so bad– and he will, but not just yet. He kisses your thighs first, in a gesture that is incredibly sweet but also drives you crazy with need. You aren't sure if it is intent to tease you, to make you become impatient with want, but that's certainly the effect it's having on you. "Bin, please, need you so bad, please–"

Fuck, that makes him weak. As if he isn't a slave to you already, willing to do any and every thing to please you, endlessly subservient to your every desire. Your breath catches in your throat when his tongue runs between your folds, the way his eyes lock on yours as he does sending jolts of electricity throughout your body.

He hums as he laps at you, lifting your legs just enough to hook his arms underneath them, hands squeezing at your thighs. “Tastes so good,” he moans into you, tongue alternating between your hole and swollen clit, his hips grinding down into your mattress to give some much needed relief to his aching cock.

No one has ever eaten you out the way he is now– desperate, wet, and messy, a mixture of his saliva and your juices running down his chin. And you want to watch but you can’t– it’s impossible to keep your eyes open when you feel this good. Your sweet, drawn out moans encourage him to keep up the pace he set for himself, wanting nothing more than for you to come undone from his tongue alone before he adds his fingers.

And that's exactly what you do when he focuses all his intention on your clit, the low hum of approval he releases when you tug on his hair again being enough to send you over the edge. Your moans turn into loud whines as he keeps going even past the conclusion of your orgasm, showing no signs of slowing down even the slightest bit.

Your eyes roll back when he pushes two of his fingers easily inside you, overstimulation prickling your skin and jolting your body, yet you don't want him to stop. You'll take all he has to give, for as long as he wants to give it. And it doesn’t take long for him to find the spot inside that sends you reeling, the overwhelming pleasure making your mouth hang open in a silent moan.

Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, tug much harsher than before, but he loves it. Between the sensitivity, the way he hums and moans against you, and the expert use of his tongue and fingers together, you won't last long. One, two more presses into your sweet spot and your second orgasm rips through you much faster than the first one, with an intensity you’ve never felt before.

Your cum soaks his face and fingers, liquid pooling underneath you and drenching your bedsheets. Arched back falling back onto the mattress, your lungs desperately heaving, begging for air as you come down from the explosive high. “B-Binnie, wait, too much–” you whine as he licks you clean, that simple act alone proving much too overwhelming for your sensitive body.

He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand when he pulls away, looking down at you with dark, lust blown eyes. Your eyes travel from his face down to his painfully hard, leaking cock. “Do you want to fuck me?” you ask, the words leaving you before you can even hope to try and formulate that question less vulgarly.

You are going to kill him, he thinks. Because how can those words leaving your lips not make his entire body react, how can it not drive him insane with want? “Fuck, yes, I want to fuck you, so bad,” his voice almost a whine as it leaves him, desperate and craving the feeling of you wrapped snuggly around him.

“Condoms in there,” you tell him, pointing to the 2nd drawer of your nightstand. He leans over you to reach into the drawer, finding them hidden beneath your glasses case, medicine bottles, and various hand lotions. You chew at your bottom lip as you watch him tear open the packaging, unconsciously holding your breath in anticipation as he rolls it on.

He leans down to kiss you once he’s finished, letting you taste yourself on him as he rubs his length between your folds, letting your arousal and remnants of cum serve as its lubrication. Your body shudders when he presses the tip into your hole for the first time, making sure it’ll slide the rest of the way easily before he begins to fully sheath it inside you.

He’s so thick and feels so fucking good, it’s unbelievable; and you can tell he’s being effected by you equally as much, by the way his brows furrow and body trembles on top of you. He’s silently grateful for the condom serving as a barrier between his cock and your walls, because he’d surely cum simply from being inside you if he wasn’t wearing one.

"W-Wait-" your voice calls out when you can tell he’s ready to move, soft and breathy but still loud enough for him to hear. “What’s wrong, baby? Did you change your mind? We can stop right now if that’s what you want, there’s always next time, we can–” Changbin begins to ramble, clearly concerned that he’s somehow breached a boundary or did something wrong. It's endearing honestly, and in a different scenario you might let him ramble a bit longer, but now isn't the time for that.

“Changbin. It’s not that, it’s just..” you trail off, unsure of how you should word what you’re thinking to him. Honestly, you love that he cares so much, is willing to stop even when he clearly wants it so badly, and you don’t want him to think it’s somehow his fault that you need to stop and collect yourself for a moment.

It's not that you don't want to have sex with Changbin, or that he did something wrong. In fact, he did everything right, as perfect as he always is, exactly as attentive as you always imagined him to be. It's just.. this is the first time since your ex broke up with you that you’re having an intimate moment with someone and you feel.. vulnerable? Overwhelmed too, by the fact that someone you’re so in love with has the entirety of his cock buried inside you.

“I.. I still want to but.. can we maybe just cuddle for a minute?” you ask with a slight pout and Changbin’s heart positively bursts. It’s such a soft, cute request; one that endears him to you even more than he thought was possible. “Of course, angel,” he smiles, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you into a hug, “anything you need.”

He plants kisses on your cheeks, on your lips, under your ear and along your neck, keeping you pressed close to him as he does. “That tickles, Bin,” you giggle between his extremely light kisses, and you can feel him smile against your skin, endlessly delighted by the sound of your soft laughs in his ear. You wrap your own arms around him, hugging him tightly, indulging in the closeness between you.

You stay like that for some time– wrapped in eachothers arms, sharing kisses and soft words, tiny giggles escaping you whenever his lips brush over a ticklish spot. You can occasionally feel his cock twitching inside you, still impossibly hard and eager for further stimulation from your body.

You’ve had enough comfort now, it makes you think– you want Changbin to feel good now, to lose himself in you the way he made you lose yourself. “Binnie, you can move now,” you tell him, and again he twitches as you speak, “want you to fuck me.”

Fuck, he has to resist going completely feral right now, cause the way you speak to him drives him absolutely crazy. One more kiss, then he unwraps his arms from you, lifting himself up and resting his palms on either side of your head. "I'll take care of you, show you how you deserve to be treated," he tells you, still eager to focus entirely on your pleasure even now.

But that’s not what you want now; he’s already done that. Taken such good care of you, treated you with so much love and care, shown you the depths of his affection. It's his turn to get whatever he wants. “No, fuck me,” you say, voice stern and confident in your words, “ruin me, I promise can take it.”

‘Oh my fucking god,’ he thinks. You’re the one ruining him, driving him so fucking crazy he almost can’t think straight anymore. But fuck, if that’s what you want, he’ll give it to you. Without holding back, until the both of you are delirious and breathless, minds foggy and eyes glossed over, he’ll fuck you.

"I love you," he says, one last display of affection before he loses himself; and lose himself he does, pounding into you so fast and hard straight away that it makes the air evaporate from your lungs. He grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders and allowing him to sink deeper inside. Your hands claw the bedsheets underneath you, bunching them in your hands so hard that your knuckles turn white.

Changbin’s head falls back, curses leaving him freely, the harsh grip of his fingers bruising your thighs. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, the merciless drilling into the gummy spot inside you making your toes curl and body writhe. “So good, you feel so fucking good,” he whines, already so close to his high. And he can’t help that he's so close already, not with the way you squeeze so tightly around him and how pretty your moans and whimpers sound in his ears.

You want to tell him that you’re close too, that you’re gonna cum just from his cock, but you can’t; you’re too breathless, the only noises you’re capable of making are high pitched sounds of pleasure. But it’s okay that you can’t tell him, because he can tell with the way your eyes roll back, tears freely falling once you squeeze them shut, body trembling as your third orgasm hovers over you.

So he gives you a little push, bringing two of his fingers to your clit and rubbing in quick, sporadic circles. You cum hard, body convulsing underneath him and a string of expletives pouring out of you. “F-Fuck,” Changbin gasps out, the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out, while squeezing him so tight and gushing all over him– he can’t hold it back anymore.

“C-Cumming, f-fuck, ‘m cumming-” he tells you with a moan that transforms into a whimper, thrusts sloppy as he comes undone, pouring all he has to give into the condom. He pulls out as soon as his high recedes, slipping the condom off and tying it closed, tossing it aside to be properly disposed of later.

His body is heavy as he flops down next to you, the both of you entirely spent. You open your closed eyes when you feel him wipe the stray hairs that clung to you from sweat out of your face, only to be met with one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen. “You look happy,” you say with a small giggle, one that he easily returns. “Of course I’m happy. I just got to fuck the prettiest girl in the world, and she loves me.”

“Mm, I’m happy too,” you say as you snuggle in closer to him, “because I can say that Seo Changbin is my boyfriend.” You give him a quick peck before you lay your head down, eyes once again closing as his arms wrap around you. You’re so exhausted, but it’s a pleasant kind now; the kind that follows a perfect day, where every moment of happiness will be playing in your mind even as you drift asleep.

“I meant what I said, you know. That I’m gonna take care of you, treat you how you deserve to be treated,” Changbin whispers to you, following it up with a soft kiss to your temple, “love you so much.” You hum an acknowledgement, whispering an ‘I love you too’, much too tired to fully put into words how much that means to you.

And you know it’s true, because it’s what he has always done, even before he confessed his feelings to you. He’s always been there for you, doing his best to cheer you up even when it wasn’t easy, always listening to you when you did have rare moments of vulnerability. You may have been blind to it before, too stuck in your head and your overwhelming feelings to see how much he truly loved you, but you know now, and that’s all that matters.

Sweetly, tenderly, he lifted you up out of the eternal dark, assured you with the sweetest of words and kindest of gestures. You had always thought you deserved everything you got from your ex, from life in general, always placing the blame for why things were so hard on your own shoulders.

Until Changbin’s words, you never considered that you didn’t deserve it– that you should be allowed to experience joy and happiness freely and without worry of it being undeserved, or of it coming to an end.

Your mindset won’t change in a day, and you’ll always have your depression and pessimistic thoughts to struggle with, but that’s okay now. Because you know you have someone who loves you unconditionally, who will help you to see the bright side of every situation, who will support you and care for you on the days you can’t care for yourself.

His love as beautiful as the flowers you care for everyday, his care the nutrients you need to bloom into the radiant person that lies under the dirt. You think back to the purple hydrangeas, and how their meaning reflected something you always wanted.

You didn’t realize it then, but you had it all along; someone who loves you, someone who cares, someone who understands. And they’ll stay your favorite flower, you think– because you’ll always remember the way Changbin held them out to you, love and concern embedded in his eyes, the beginning of the biggest, most vibrant bloom of your life.

#skzwritingcafe #skzblossominglove #skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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aspoonofsugar · 2 years

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Alyx - The Protagonist

Yang: But she was kind of a mean person, right? She lied and cheated her way through most of the book. Weiss: She was trying to survive. The morals of those old stories are so simplistic.

This exchange is interesting, especially because it is not the first time characters interpret Alyx in opposite ways.

Oscar sees her as a child who goes on an adventure, is changed by it and struggles to go home:

Oscar: I thought the idea of falling through Remnant into a new world was exciting. I never understood why she was so sad when she finally made it back home. But now it makes more sense.

Ozpin sees her as a girl, who runs away from her problems in a fantastical dimension:

Ozpin: I was recently reminded of an old fairy tale. A young girl flees the consequences of a choice, to a magical place. But, having never learned from her initial failure, she only succeeds in spreading it.

All of these characters project parts of themselves on Alyx:

Oscar sees her as lost, because he himself feels lost and away from home.

Ozpin describes her as a coward because he himself has run away into Oscar's subconscious.

Yang criticizes Alyx's tendency to lie and cheat because she sees these 2 attributes as the worst of the worst. She is conveniently ignoring she herself has been omitting information about Raven. Not to count that lie, cheat, survive are ideas that apply to Raven specifically. This means there is a part of Yang she herself is not confronting.

Weiss sympathizes with Alyx and refuses the moral of the story as too childish. Which kind of adult would truly believe that lying and cheating to survive is wrong? Except that Weiss's whole arc revolves around her embracing childishness once again and finding the hope and wonder that was stolen from her as a child.

So, everyone sees Alyx as a part of herself, but who is Alyx really?

ALYX - THE CHARACTER

Alyx is no-one, just a shadow:

Just an empty silhouette that can be filled by anyone:

This is what characters are, especially protagonists that are meant to carry a whole story on their shoulders:

Blake: I've read so many stories... I never thought I'll be the moral of one.

Characters are in stories to teach people morals and to convey messages. Basically, they all have purposes:

Blake: Have you ever heard the namy Alyx? Little: Alyx... Is that a purpose?

Maybe this is the real reason why names equals purposes in the Ever After. It is because characters are their purposes in a story... and yet, people are much more. So, what happens when a person ends up making their sense of identity overlap with their purpose?

Little: And is to Ruby Rose your purpose?

They lose themselves. Like it is happening to Ruby and like it has most likely happened to Alyx.

Weiss: What did Jinxy want from Alyx? Blake: Her saddest memories and her happiest.

Jinxy wanted Alyx's saddest and happiest memories. If a person loses both, they lose their past self. They lose who they are. It is probable Alyx chooses to leave the previous "her" behind, but can't forge any new identity, trapped forever to be a character. A protagonist. A fairy tale.

RWBY - THE LEGENDS

Blake: We are doing the same thing Alyx did. We are ruining everything!

Here, Blake is talking about RWBY's predicament in Ever After. She thinks that since they know how the story goes, they should be able to avoid Alyx's mistakes. She is frustrated they can't and overreacts. Why is she so emotional about it?

Because Blake is not talking about the Ever After. She probably means this:

Weiss: Maybe Jaune and Winter were able to get them out. Despite everything. Despite us.

RWBY has seen the adults fail at Beacon, so they strived to be better. They learnt from their mentors' mistakes, grew stronger and chose a different approach. Only to fail in the exact same way.

Blake and Weiss are having opposite reactions to the Ever After, but deep down they are dealing with the same sense of failure.

Blake is filtering it through a fairy tale. They must do everything perfectly here in Ever After, because if they can't, what good are even they?

Weiss is dealing with it by refusing the fairy tale. They messed up so royally in Remnant, that who cares what happens in this bizzarre world, which isn't theirs?

What about Yang and Ruby?

Yang is reacting the same as ever. She is going with the flaw and cracking jokes:

Ren: It's okay to be afraid, you know. You don't always have to hide it with a joke.

Ruby is choosing to push forward:

Ruby: We may not know exactly what's going on, but for whatever reason, this place is putting us on a similar path as a book we all read as kids. I say we follow it and stop pretending we know what we are doing.

She is given the role of Alyx and she is determined to fulfill it. She is stepping once again in the role of a protagonist. And yet, to keep on following an already pre-established script without putting that much mind to it isn't the right answer.

The fairy tale should be a chance for Ruby to face heself: who she was, who she is and who she wants to become.

What if you could leave Ruby Rose behind, shed like an old coat? What might happen, if you don't?

Isn't it interesting that the metaphor of an old coat is used? What is a little red hood if not something similar to a coat? A mantle (similar to that of a superhero for that matter) that Ruby chooses to wear? Who is she outside it? Outside her allusion? Outside her fairy tale?

The same goes for RWBY as a whole. They aren't in training anymore. They are Huntresses and are slowly growing into legends. They saved Haven, protected an ancient Relic, decided the fate of a Kingdom. Ruby is famous worldwide as the young Huntress who is challenging Salem. They are growing into more than just themselves. And yet, this is extremely dangerous, because losing one-self in a bigger tale is rather easy:

Pyrrha: For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all.

This is why they are in a fairy tale they all know deep down, even if they have forgotten. It is so they can reconnect with whom they are. Metaphorically, they are going back to The Girl Who Fell Through The World, so that they can look at it from a different perspective. What teachings would they learn that they missed as kids? What will they discover?

What's sure is that they won't get anything if they keep refusing it (Weiss), not taking it seriously (Yang), being too worried about doing everything perfectly (Blake), following the script without thinking too much about it (Ruby).

ALYX - THE PERSON

RWBY must find themselves again and it would be interesting if they succeed by finding Alyx, as well.

In general, I think Neo, Jaune and Alyx are all characters the protagonists must "find" if they really want to figure out the world and their current situation. It is easy to see how this may work out for Neo, an enemy mad with grief, and Jaune, a friend traumatized and lonely.

What about Alyx?

It is possible she might stay in the background as a symbol. However, some hints suggest there might be more to it:

Weiss: He's adorable! Blake: And a lot older than I remember from the book

The world they are in isn't exactly the same of the fairy tale. Jinxy is much older and Little isn't in the original fairy tale. This is why they have no idea who Alyx is. How can they? They are too little to remember. They are in the Ever After, but in a future version of it. This ties with the idea they are confronting their childhoods as adults. It might also be there is a reason for it plot-wise.

Everyone seems to have their own idea of what happened to Alyx. Maybe the whole point is that they will have listen to Alyx's own version of the story.

THE GODS - THE WRITERS

These meta-themes are important outside this volume and for the story, as a whole. After all, let's not forget the Gods allude to the Brother Grimms. This means they are symbolically "the writers" of the characters. Through this lens, then, the whole conflict between the God of Light especially and Salem can be summarized as a writer not being able to write a character.

The God of Light wants Salem to learn an important lesson, so he comes up with a punishment and an obstacle for her to grow. This is how usually a writer approaches a character arc. However, Salem refuses to change, as the God of Light wants. She refuses to learn the theme he desires. If anything, the result is the opposite of what the God of Light expects. Why is that so?

Because the God of Light is dumb and not such a great writer on his own :P To write humans well he needs his brother's help. That is because humans are a mix of light and darkness, of selflessness and selfishness, of logic and emotions, of mind and heart. He approaches Salem as if she were to function exactly like him, but she is much more similar to his brother. Emotional and driven by her personal wishes.

So, the Gods are the writers and RWBY and the others are characters in their hands. When is it that a character overcomes their author? When they end up communicating something their author did not see coming. In this way, they surprise the writers and help them grow. This is probably how RWBY is gonna solve its conflict.

The girls will end up embodying a theme and a teaching the Gods and Salem did not account for. In this way, they will defeat them, symbolically.

At the same time, a meta-reading can very well apply to RWBY's most existentialist themes.

Let's consider these 2 lines:

Weiss: We are not in a book and even if we were we know how it ends, right over there.

Cinder: Oh, come now. Even if you know how the story ends, that doesn't make it any less fun to watch.

Even if all lives end in the same way (death), it doesn't mean they are not beautiful and worthy to be lived. Even if you know how the story ends, it doesn't mean you should not live it fully. You should dive deep into it, embrace wonder and go through it to the very end. Skipping pages means you are just giving up on new opportunities to grow and bloom.

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #rwby spoilers #team rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiaolong #alyx #rwby meta #my meta

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discordantwords · 10 months

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20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @khorazir and @raina-at. Thanks so much for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 47 (how is it that many?!) 29 for BBC Sherlock 18 for The X-Files

2. What's your total A03 word count? 897,533

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently only BBC Sherlock

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea

White Knight

Incidents with Dogs, Curious and Otherwise

Another Auld Lang Syne

The Dead Detective

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to! I'm not always the best at keeping up, especially lately as my schedule has been erratic and I can only steal a few minutes here and there for fandom activities. But even when I don't have a chance to reply, I do read and treasure each and every comment.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I guess maybe The Pillar upon which England Rests has the saddest ending of anything that I've ever written, but I don't really consider it a sad story. It's set immediately post Reichenbach, told mostly through flashbacks as Mrs Hudson shares the story of how she met Sherlock with John. Sherlock is still "dead" when the story comes to a close, and John and Mrs Hudson are both grieving, though we as the reader know their loss is temporary.

I have a few shorter fics with ambiguous endings that lean in the angsty direction:

Nothing Happened in Belarus deals with accidental time travel, with grief-stricken S4 Sherlock finding himself briefly in the care of S1 John. Alas, the reprieve is a short one, as neither Sherlock nor John become aware of what is happening in time to take advantage of the opportunity.

At the end of Leaves Sherlock and John have either triumphed over the hallucinogenic vines that have invaded 221B… or they haven't. (I have my own theory, but you are free to interpret the ending however you choose.)

In EXECUTE John inadvertently deletes Mary from existence. He gets his happy ending, but has to live with the uncomfortable knowledge of the choices he's made.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have happy or at least hopeful endings. I like leaving the boys in a good place. I guess it depends on the flavor of happy you're looking for. But I'd say that these are probably the happiest:

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea

Inscrutable to the Last

White Knight

Another Auld Lang Syne

Whirlwind

8. Do you get hate on fics? Thankfully, no. A few weird comments here and there, but nothing too bad. The vast majority of my interaction with others in the fandom has been absolutely wonderful.

9. Do you write smut? Most of my sex scenes stay in R rated territory. But I tend to roll with whatever the plot demands of me.

10. Do you write crossovers? I've done quite a few fusion fics, but not crossovers. Crossovers aren't usually my cup of tea.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Once, sort of, but I don't believe it was done maliciously and I don't wish to call attention to it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! I'm always flattered by requests to translate my writing.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? A friend and I used to write together quite a bit in high school, but nothing that has made it out into the world.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Sherlock & John and Mulder & Scully.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Crime Writer is a Sherlock/Knight Rider fusion that ran out of steam a while back (although it was intended to be episodic and IMO doesn't feel too horribly unresolved where it ends, so don't let the unfinished nature of it put you off if you're inclined to read it).

I'm still optimistic about most of the WIPs in my WIP folder, heh. I guess we'll see what next year brings.

16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm good at writing complicated people with complicated feelings that don't always resolve neatly.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I don't think my smut is particularly inspired. And I have a very hard time writing fluff or domestic situations without having some angst to drive the plot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I personally wouldn't attempt it. I'm not fluent in any other languages and there's far too much nuance to leave in the hands of Google Translate. :)

19. First fandom you wrote for? X-Files! (Unless you count unrefined and unposted scribblings from my younger years, I definitely went through a phase where I was trying to fix the Terminator time loop in a way that allowed Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese to live happily ever after.)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Oh, this is always such a hard question to answer. The Pillar upon Which England Rests is the first fic I wrote for the Sherlock fandom, so it has a special place in my heart. I'm really proud of the cases and complex plot in Out There. (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea is the one that seems to resonate with the most people. And White Knight is the fic I'd most like to see turned into an episode of the show. :D

I'll tag @thetimemoves @insistentbass @lololollywrites @arwamachine @naefelldaurk @clueless-mp4 @totallysilvergirl and anyone else who would like to play along!

#fic writer questions #sherlock #johnlock

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flawless-v1ctory · 10 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖MK character’s love tropes Part 2.𖥔 ݁ ˖

warning: kung lao being cute asf

AN: Did mortal kombat cure my writers block? yes✨

Every universe When the battle for the hourglass had finally come to a conclusion, it felt bittersweet again as Liu Kang knew that he might not get to see the you he fell in love with again but even though it was going to be a sorrowful goodbye there was still miraculous and hopeful chance of both of you meeting again sometime in the future in better circumstances and both of you promised that you were never going to forget about all the wonderful and romantic moments and memories the both of you had made and cherish them for all the centuries to come

Second chance After Jerrod’s passing, Sindel was left heartbroken, she never really tried to open up to anyone and swore off the idea of falling in love ever again, she just wanted to continue her life solely as outworld’s ruler, but that all changed when she met you, from the moment the both of you got to talking, she felt a sense of comfort in you, she felt like you were the only person she could open up and have a heart to heart with and though Sindel had promised herself that she wouldn’t ever fall in love again, she knew that you are the second chance she always needed

Opposites attract Knowing Shang Tsung’s evil deeds and plans and your loyalty for the throne and for your people (you’re basically quan chi lol), both of you always kind of knew that there wasn’t anything in particular that was similar in the both of you but still, for some peculiar reason, from the moment both of you met there was something that just intensely attracted the both of you to the other, neither of you really knew what it exactly was but it was real as after both of you confessed your feelings for the other, nobody knows how but both of you were just deeply and irreparably in love

Best friends to lovers Since childhood, Kung Lao has always been there for you, from your happiest days to your saddest, he was the most perfect best friend anyone could ever wish for whom according to him you were lucky to have, but as time went on and both of you got older, you started to notice a difference in him and he stopped hanging out with you as much as he initially did, at first you thought you did something that had upset so you went to apologize but to your surprise your apology turned into him confessing his feelings for you which turned into him receiving a kiss on the cheek from you

#mortal kombat1 #mk1 #kung lao is so lil meow meow coded #kung lao #liu kang #fire god liu kang #sindel #queen sindel #shang tsung #he’s just a evil lil scrunkly #love tropes #🫧🫧#Spotify

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my-roomnineteen · 3 days

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This house is haunted

All my memories are reduced to a feeling.

A place I went to, books I’ve read, journals I have written on, clothes, a smell, or even how my room is arranged. It all takes me back to a certain point in my life. And sometimes, it’s scary because I feel all of it—the loneliness, grief, sadness, and confusion like there’s no difference in time.

It took me three years to finally open my first journal. Just seeing it was overwhelming enough for me that I pretended it didn’t exist—one of all things I tried to sweep under the rug until it started to stink. It gave me relief, or a make-believe one. I thought if I kept it hidden long enough, I would forget about all my horrors…but it was only hunting me every day. I was losing blood, but I kept telling myself I was okay.

But you can only close a book if you open it.

I did on a rainy day two years ago.

And today five years later.

I thought it only heard my miseries and foolishness, but reading it as an adult—I was just a kid. I didn’t know any better. And the only ridiculous thing I wrote is to have it all figured out at 18.

For the second time, I reached for it, and this time, I read everything. The notebook that haunted me for so long has got me kicking my feet. I was hilarious and so honest with my feelings, and maybe the only time I have ever been in my life.

My journal is my ‘Room 19’ where I can truly be myself. I can say whatever, even the most ridiculous, selfish, corniest, stupidest, happiest, cheesiest, saddest, and ambitious things. But in some way, but-what-will-they-think-of-me has robbed this place of that freedom I thought I had. It’s changing the course of how I want to think about how I live my life now and how I feel about myself—that if I were to sit down and read what I wrote ten years later like I do now, I would be prouder.

And that’s bullshit.

That 18-year-old girl might mask herself to others and wasn’t brave enough for a lot of things, but she didn’t lie to herself. To think that I dreaded her for so long makes me feel sorry for her.

Maybe this compassion is something I might need once 23 is the new young for me, but I won’t wait for that day. I’ll give it to myself before hating what I said and not say, regretting what I did and didn’t do.

My ghosts don’t live here anymore.

#writing #writeblr #reading #english literature #bookworm

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muutosarchive · 1 month

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💔 ......... duke ..........

shoddy cabin is lit only by moonlight, as the lonely father kneels . . . however, this time it is not in a feeble attempt at prayer. arms are folded on the side of the bed as he watches. brows furrowed in the saddest, and most regrettable of smiles.

she's bathed in the overhead shine as she sleeps peacefully. gorgeous, he thinks. too good for this world. and she's all yours, if you want her. a river of brunette tresses, with a kindness that could only be bestowed by powers beyond their human comprehension. a literal angel sent from the heavens themselves.

he just doesn't think he can stay.

is it because he's afraid of happiness? that he cowers at the idea of a true, genuine love not being enough? or perhaps it's the life without the church. the idea of such a drastic change, that he can more-less do nothing about. cannot have his cake, and eat it too. cannot have one life, while still clinging to the other.

so why do you flee back to misery? because such is the power of christ.

unexpectedly, eyes flutter open. those eyes sleep-ridden and confused in their furrowed, yet curious expression. it is with this that duke's lips purse with a shaky exhale, with brows furrowing in a barely suppressed sob. "oh, vögelchen. i am so, so sorry." his voice breaks in the admission. his glasses doing nothing to hide the tears spilling from screwed-up expression.

his pale, vein laden hand moves to brush pink palm along her scalp. effectively smoothing down her hair, with an idle stroke of his thumb at the tail end. something which continues past the initial wave, while opposite twitching fingers curl in on themselves upon the surface below.

he's still smiling at her, somewhat. for she was his salvation twice over. he cares for her, as much as he had once thought he cared for the lord. but still, his head shakes. how long will he be able to help himself? his self control nor his will has ever been very strong. at least in his eyes. though, in some ways his will is stronger than anyone. a firm belief trapping him in an abusive courtship with religion.

his lips reach forth and press a trembling, lingering kiss to her forehead. wiping the small trace of saliva away, before hand lifts to place itself gently upon her cheek. that which leads her to his face for an equally as long, and soft kiss. treating her as though she were made of porcelain, with a soft whimper fed to her in the midst of the dark. created by leaking, closed eyelids.

"i have to-to go, n-now." he indicates. nodding, while pressing their heads together briefly. his voice stuttering within his crying. "but, i wanted to thank you for - for giving me some of -- the most happiest times of my life." he laughs again. nervous, frightened. stroking her cheek once more, before standing from her bed. offering one more sympathetic smile in his cowardly lingering.

the one foil in his plan however, is amongst the only things quelling his rabbit heart.

"i suppose if you want to see me again, you -- know where to find me."

🍒 @anishael 𝐀��𝐊𝐄𝐃 ↪ A FUCKED UP KISSING MEME + a goodbye kiss

#anishael #SORRY I MISSED THIS SHIP SO MUCH #and this is already so fucking sad #𝐢𝐢𝐢. . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐤𝐞 › thread ]#𝐢𝐯. . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐤𝐞 › answered ]#𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐤𝐞 › main verse ]

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ailendolin · 1 year

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The Six Idiots-related headcanons from this ask by the lovely @theancientvaleofsoulmaking.

Headcanon ask game can be found here.

🌅- Post-Canon (Ho-Tan)

The day Ho-Tan gives up her seat on the Council is both one of the happiest and saddest days of her life. She's ready to step down and begin a new chapter of her life together with Vex in the little house on the edge of town they'd been renovating for months now. But at the same time she finds it hard to say goodbye to the place that has been her home for most of her life, and to the people who have been more of a family to her than her real one ever was. It's a bittersweet moment for her, and yet when she hands over her robes to Alvin and sees her son beaming up at her with so much pride, she knows it's the right thing to do. Alvin is ready, and so is Irk, and they will lead the realm into a bright future. She can feel it in her heart.

"Thanks for everything, Mum," Alvin whispers and, breaking protocol, hugs her so tightly Ho-Tan can't help but laugh through her tears. A moment later, Irk and Vex join in and she just knows everything will be okay.

🌙- Pre-Canon (The Captain)

The Captain marries in his late thirties. Mathilda is a nice girl he's known since childhood and who, just like him, is tired of being constantly asked why she isn't married yet. It's not a marriage of love, of course - they're both very much aware of that. But it suits them well and the Captain doesn't mind sharing a flat with her. He might be away a lot but it's nice to have someone to come home to.

He knows his wife is in love with her best friend. Margaret is over at their flat so often the Captain would have to be blind not to notice the looks the two of them share when they think no one is looking. It makes his heart ache without knowing why. He's happy for Mathilda and will gladly play the part of husband for the rest of his life if it gives her a shot at happiness.

Then the war breaks out, and Mathilda takes him aside one day and says, "I hope you'll find your own Margaret one day - before it's too late."

It's the first time either of them has ever put this open secret into words. The Captain has no idea what she's implying until the day Lieutenant Havers stands in front of his desk and smiles at him so charmingly his heart misses a beat and he forgets how to breathe.

Oh, he thinks, and immediately buries that feeling deep within him because he's not like Mathilda. He'll never be brave like her.

#scribe elder ho tan #the captain #yonderland #bbc ghosts #headcanon ask game

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one-day-at-a-timeblog · 9 months

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I was looking through my old journals and thought I’d share something I wrote a few years back—around 2019ish I think. I still feel this exact way about the show! (Forgive any errors, I copied text from a photo):

I think I've decided this is my favorite show of all time. I love every single second of this show. Elena is my spirit animal, Penelope is my idol. Lydia is my inspiration, and Alex is how confident I want to be. I can quote just about every great line from the shoul (Don't get me wrong - every line is great!)

I don't think I could pick a favorite episode from any season. But, I could say my favorite storyline is basically Elena’s who coming out/living her truth storyline. To my knowledge, she is the youngest girl to ever come out on TV.

One Day at a Time is so important to me because it’s relatable. I may not be Cuban or live in an apartment, or with my abuelita, but it still has this “that’s me” or “that’s my family” moments. One of those moments was when Elena learns about her anxiety. I connected to her in that part. Another one is when Schneider and Penelope go over the rules for him watching Alex. I could see my mom being over protective like that when I was younger. Another thing is that Lydia reminds me a lot of my Nana, in that she uses Vicks, and keeps food in other containers than the one it came in.

This show came out at the perfect time. I have been around the same age as Elena the for most of the show. Even though she has a little brother, their sibling relationship reminds me a lot of my brother and I. There's so much more that I love about this show, that I don't think I could write down. It's funniest, it's the saddest, and it's the happiest show. You could be laughing hystericaly, (one moment) then you're sobbing. Is just that good.

#one day at a time #odaat #elena alvarez #schneider

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skye-huntress · 2 years

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RWBY Volume 9 Reaction

Episode 5: The Parfait Predicament

A reminder that my asks are open, whether it is related to this episode, RWBY in general, or even some other topic

So instead of dying, Ever After residents “ascend” and come back with renewed purpose

The Red King’s purpose was “to play the game and win no matter the cost” and when Alice beat him, he ascended and became the Red Prince, and he became even more mean-spirited and underhanded.

And with the Herbalist, he struggled to fulfil his own purpose when Ruby failed to answer his questions.

I think I’m starting to see why humans in the Ever After tend to cause chaos wherever they go no matter what they do, and why things react to Ruby differently than the others

Perhaps Alyx omitted certain details from her story, or perhaps the story was edited after the fact. It’s not like anyone would have believed it was anything but a story.

Nose hairs? Glad I don’t have to eat it

I don’t think all three of you need to go with the cat? Blake, you just want to stick with Yang, and Weiss is just looking for an excuse not to go look at nose hairs

Guess we’ll leave the most emotionally vulnerable of you in the care of a mouse who can’t stay awake for more than five minutes

The return of Penny’s sword, and one of my suspicions seems to be panning out. It’s not Crescent Rose that has been lost, it’s Ruby who has lost sight of a part of herself.

We have what appears to be Alyx’s knife, though why would that still be in the Ever After if she had already moved on, unless she intentionally left it behind. The girl had supposedly given up her saddest and happiest memories for it, so that certainly raises questions to why she would do such a thing.

Is Summer’s image on that blade to imply that it used to be Summer’s weapon? If that’s here, then maybe she ended up here, too. This was a possibility I had considered, there’s more than one way into the Ever After, but it would have probably only have happened after she confronted Salem, so I have a disturbing hypothesis

Seems the blacksmith’s workshop wasn’t entirely there, not that the laws of space or time seem to apply much in the Ever After. There’s a chance Ruby will come across it again

The Curious Cat may be a Cat Most Curious but they are still a Cat that does Cat things

Ruby’s crest is a symbol of a promise from her mother? I know they share the same crest, but I didn’t consider the crest itself was the exact same. I think it’s safe to say when Summer left it, but I wonder what the promise was exactly. We’ll probably see that crest again when Ruby is forced to examine how and why she chose to become a Huntress

So if they eat too much of the parfait, they might get too big. I wonder if someone was tempted to eat just that little bit more to end up slightly bigger

So anyone the Jabberwalker consumes does not ascend, meaning it is effectively the only being in the Ever After that can kill the other residents. It’s like it’s the Ever After’s version of a Grimm

The Cat can give other beings a new purpose? I believe I’ve said this before, but this Cat clearly has a deeper purpose than just being curious

There’s the Rusted Knight, and yes, as soon as I got a good look at his shield that confirmed who he was, but that didn’t explain the “Rusted” part

So there’s only supposed to be one Jabberwalker, and Neo clearly did something to it and now she can make multiple copies. And I have a suspicion that even these copies can all do the same thing. It’s probably not a coincidence, they attacked the place Team RWBY were, Neo is probably still hunting them and she’s even more dangerous than ever.

Seeing another place destroyed as they are forced to flee is having a particular affect on Weiss. Unsurprising, given recent events.

Of course, I can’t not mention that after the Jabberwalker fight, Weiss was the one to get Ruby moving, while after observing the destruction, it was Ruby’s turn to do the same for Weiss. They are partners, after all.

It’s seem people were right about the Rusted Knight’s identity, although I don’t think anyone had an older Jaune on their bingo cards. I kind of figured it might be the case since his weapons were the same, but were covered in rust. He fell last, but he seems to have been here a lot longer than anyone else. In fact, it is entirely possible he is the same Rusted Knight from Alyx’s story

That makes it all the more noteworthy that Team RWBY all arrived at the same time and found each other almost immediately. There’s a bond that draws them together that isn’t shared by Jaune or Neo. Neo’s desire to kill Ruby is probably the reason she showed up the same time she did but ended up in a much darker place, close to the only creature in the Ever After that can apparently kill

Back to my hypothesis about Summer Rose. I’m sure I’m not the only one to consider this but what if she is the Jabberwalker. It’s similar to a Grimm in how it consumes life, but it has some level of intelligence, and it’s voice sounds a little like the Hound’s. After arriving in the Ever After, perhaps it changed her and since time doesn’t to affect when you enter the Ever After, she could have arrived before Alyx or Jaune. And if Alyx, Jaune or whoever else “killed” her, she’d probably just “ascend” and come back. However, if my theory is even partially right, there is a way Ruby can fight off the Jabberwalker even without a weapon, the only thing holding her back is herself

#rwby #rwby9 #rwby9 spoilers

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full-on-sam · 1 year

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Happy STS!

What’s your current WIP about? (Ramble as much as you want, lol)

What’s the happiest scene you’ve ever written?

What’s the saddest?

Hi pasta!! And thanks for the question, answer's a bit late tho, so sorry for that!

TSOU is about five teenagers who have to save the world from its separation lasted thousand of years. They have to save the gods too, and put apart their own differences to achieve their goal. All while grappling with school, a rebellion, war, and trying to protect those who they love.

I have not gotten to that yet actually. I think it will be when the Squad finds a way to kidnap Haakon in his sleep, just to have their ship hijacked by Nayeli five seconds later. Its funny, and they get to know each other. A part from this I am afraid that there won't be too many happy scenes in the duology. Everyone of them has lost someone, is deeply lonely, or is trying to avoid harm to other people, so the whole story is actually pretty loaded with issues

Well I think is one I am working on right now. Katz has been kicked out of a tavern, and we can see how lonely she really is, with no one to trust or who really cares about her, despite the tough act she puts on every time

#ask answered #sts #sts ask #storytelling saturday #my work #author's work

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feelings-fortilly · 1 year

Text

About: Tilly Beaumont

PERSONAL:

Full Name: Natalie Faith Davenport Beaumont Nickname: Tilly Do they like their nickname?: Yes - she chose it, and if you call her Natalie you will get a perfect manicure poked into your eyes. Birthday: June 10, 1997 Birthplace: Los Angeles, CA Hometown: Hollywood Hills, CA Species: Human, Empath Ethnicity: English, Spanish, Scottish, Argentinian Religion: None Pets: She would love a fluffy white cat to decorate in bows and scarves - but alas. Major: Dance and Fashion Design Minor: Method Acting Current Occupation: Salesperson at Island Pleasures (she’ll say she doesn’t need the money, she mostly wants the employee discount) Sexuality: Straight Relationship Status: Single Do they drive? What kind of car do they own?: Back home she has a champagne BMW.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

Height: 5′6 Body Type: Slim and a little rawboned Hair Color: Naturally dirty blonde, dyes it platinum or sometimes a copper red, depending on the season or her mood. Has been a brunette - it truly depends. Hair Type: Straight Hair Style: She typically just keeps it naturally straight, but sometimes she’ll blow it out or style it in intricate updos. She doesn’t like curling her hair. Eye Color: Dark brown Glasses/Contacts?: She has contacts. Tilly does have rose gold rimmed glasses that she never ever wears - emergencies only. Prominent Features: Tilly likes to say her entire being is a prominent feature. Scars: Under her chin from a swing set chain when she was eight. Tattoos: A tiny crescent moon on her left ankle - it was a stick and poke at a party. Piercings: Three on each ear Health Problems or Conditions: She does a bit of an alcohol/drug problem, which leads to other problems. Style: Expensive. Floral and babydoll dresses, sometimes she’ll just wear satin nightgowns/slips as outfits. Almost always heels - she doesn’t own many flat shoes. Rarely Notable Jewelry: She has a gold star necklace that she does wear a lot. Grooming: Tilly never shows up looking anything less than perfectly put together. She’s very clean, taking her beauty standards and skincare routines very seriously. Lots of lotions and hair and face masks, her nails and toes are always done.

PAST:

Mother’s Name: Lucille Mother’s Maiden Name: Davenport Status: Alive Relationship: Tilly and her mom are fairly close. Lucille was a model when she was Tilly’s age, who starred in a couple of movies here and there - it’s how she meant her father. That gave them a nice bond. Lucille cares a lot about her looks, her beauty, and fashion, which she shared with Tilly, her first daughter. Father’s Name: Harry Beaumont Status: Alive Relationship: Harry dotes on her, as she’s his only daughter. She’s definitely a daddy’s girl - he spoils her rotten, even when it’s against her own good. She has a lot of respect for him, looks up to him a lot. They have a great relationship, as best as they can when the both of them are always on the move. Siblings: Samuel (+3), Darlie (-8, half sister), and Jack (-9, half brother) What was their childhood like?: The Beaumonts had literally everything they ever wanted. Extravagant birthday parties, summer and winter homes, every pet they could ask for. Samuel was always busy training as a baseball pitcher (he currently plays in the MLB for the Diamondbacks), and Tilly had her acting and theater. Lots of time split between parents after they divorced, but that meant double the gifts for affection. Lots of her childhood was spent on TV sets, and as she grew into her teenage years, she got more into parties and slacking off and “trying to make as many memories as possible”. Earliest Memory: Christmas dinner when she was 2 and her parents got them each a puppy. Happiest Memory: Her first day on set of Found Family, the TV show she was on that ran for five seasons. Saddest Memory: Her first day of the first stint in rehab. Education: Tilly was essentially homeschooled on sets, but because of the rigorousness some of these teachers were, she always says she got some of the finest education with private tutors. Past Jobs: She was a child actor on Barney, the Found Family, then a few short lived, one season shows, TV movies, some theatrical releases, and a pilot for Disney Channel that ended up not getting picked up. She has a lot of LA theater on her resume as well, and some sparse indie film as she got older. She’s also been a spokesperson for a few makeup and beauty brands, advertising on her Instagram. Police Record: Some drug charges that got dropped, and some speeding tickets. Major Past Trauma/Illness - Are they still affected?: Being in the spotlight with the demands from producers and directors to child actors always have some negative effects. Tilly’s always had an inflated sense of self anyway, which meant that any question of that, or really any adversity, was harder for her. She’s obsessed with her looks and keeping herself thin, which has led to unhealthy habits. It was easier for her to cope with what she considered “failure” with the ways other teen stars did - alcohol and drugs. The psychological effects of that didn’t help her any either, heightening her emotions and making her anxious and depressed. She still isn’t totally over her addictions either.

SEX & ROMANCE:

First crush: She had a crush on one of the recurring actors in Found Family. First sexual experience - Was it a good or bad one?: Tilly was shooting a teen drama when she was 15, and one of the boys in the cast was 16 and they both had been flirting with each other the whole time. They were filming on his 17th birthday, so Tilly’s present to him was for some alone time in his trailer. It was a lot of fun. Sexual Type: Switch, but she teeters more into submissive for the show of it. Turn Ons: Role Play, Giving/Receiving Oral, Bondage, Sensory Play, Spanking, Lingerie, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Multiple Partners, Orgasm Control, Foreplay, Rough Sex, Hair Pulling, Praise/Compliments, Public Sex, Dub-Con, Consensual Non-Con Turn Offs: Bathroom Play, Non-con, Infantilism, Feet Love Type: Tilly likes being spoiled, and does care a lot about looks - if they look good together, that’s even better. It’s hard for her to let other people know the real her. She’d want to be adored and loved, but she’s also the biggest hype-woman on earth. To friends or romances, she loves inflating their egos and making them know how important they are - they have to get onto her level, of course. Significant Past Relationships: None that lasted longer than a couple of months. She’s never had anything significant past short-lived boyfriends and the semi-frequent hookup while she was single - which wasn’t often.

MENTAL WELLNESS:

Psychological Issues/Mental Illnesses: Addiction Outlook on Life: Life is too short not to have the most fun possible. Myers-Briggs Personality Type: ENFP Temperament: Sanguine Sun Sign: Gemini Moon Sign: Leo Rising Sign: Capricorn Venus Sign: Cancer Alignment: Neutral Evil Hogwarts House: Slytherin What/Who do they value most?: Her clothes, her jewelry, her hair. What/Who are they willing to die for?: Not many. Some of her close friends, her family. Most of the time. Personal Philosophy: You can never be overdressed or overeducated. But especially not overdressed. Biggest Fear: Failure, or being considered irrelevant. Being forgotten. Are they superstitious?: Yes - she believes in zodiacs, in witches, and her being an empath has always had her thinking she was in tune to things other people weren’t, or that there were other powerful forces in the universe. She was ecstatic to be proven right when she got to the Institute. Greatest Strength: Her confidence. Greatest Weakness: Her pride. She can’t back down or admit when she’s on any kind of losing side. She has a very hard time being wrong. Good Characteristics: Tilly is very fashionable, and actually quite charitable. She likes making people feel good about themselves, to the best of her ability. She isn’t the type of girl that will ever tear others down, even she has a sort of stuck-up look. She is a good friend with the few she has, she likes to spoil them and make sure they feel special on birthdays, or bad days. Bad Characteristics: She’s not humble, by any means. She’s very much the kind to brag about her accomplishments, then remind the other that “it’s no competition.” And Tilly is incredibly selfish, because at the end of the day, the most important person to Tilly, is Tilly. Favorite thing about themself? Why?: Her looks. Second, her talent. Least favorite? Why?: Her voice. Someone told her once it doesn’t match her face, and it’s bothered her since. It’s one thing she can’t really change. Biggest regret: She has none. Truly, she isn’t someone who regrets - everything happens for a reason, and everything makes a good story. Proudest moment: Going to her first awards show - Found Family was nominated for a Golden Globe in its first season. Quirks: She only takes her coffee with cinnamon in it. When she’s thinking hard, she bites her lip and screws her eyes shut to concentrate. She has to have a clean face before she goes to sleep. How are they in crisis? Tilly is very good in crisis. She’s had to deal with lots of crisis in party situations, after-parties, vacations, club settings - she’s seen a lot. And somebody always has to stay calm and not freak out. She’s an actress, she’s good at it. What do they wish to change most about themself?: She doesn’t want to be an addict anymore. She thinks it’s fun, and she needs it for having good times and getting through the day, but she hates the dependence.

SPEECH & COMMUNICATION:

Pace: Even and sure of herself. Voice Tone: Often inflected, but her voice is more melodic than she gives it credit for. Accent/Dialect: She slips into the Valley Girl accent a bit, especially when she’s been drinking. She will deny it, though. Speech Patterns: It’s not something she does on purpose, but the ends of her sentences always seem to be like questions, even when they aren’t. Favorite Words/Phrases: Not so much anything verbal, but she is known to roll her eyes and scoff a lot. Mannerisms/Demeanor: Confidence. She speaks every word with conviction. Posture: She stands straight, all the time. Walks through life unflinching. Gestures: Tilly uses her hands, a lot. She’s not over-the-top about it or anything, but she’s a very touchy feely girl, even in casual conversation, not just flirting. How good are they at lying?: Very good. Tilly justifies it because she’s an actress.

BEHAVIOR:

Finances: Tilly is not good with money, it’s typically wasted on booze and clothes and makeup... but is that really a waste, when you think about it? Alcohol Use: Often. The fruitier, the better. The hangover is worth the taste. Drug Use: Also often, but the “glamorous” drugs - cocaine, LSD, acid, mushrooms, weed. Morning/Night Person?: Night person. If it were up to her, the day wouldn’t have to start until noon. Morning Routine: Wake up, wash her face. She doesn’t often drink coffee, only when she’s hungover. Otherwise, it’s an iced matcha latte in the morning for breakfast, sometimes a bagel. But that’s rare. It takes her some time to do her hair and makeup and pick out an outfit, so that tends to bleed into the day routine - none of her classes are before 11am, if she can help it. Day Routine: She’ll go to the dance studio and choreograph something for herself. She’ll take videos of it, sometimes. She’ll go to the gym right after, or do some other kind of workout. She’ll take a shower, then take a half hour cat nap. If she doesn’t have any workouts, she’ll go shopping, or window shopping if there’s nothing she likes. Grab lunch with a girl friend, or someone she met the night before for a little date. Evening Routine: Typically, she goes out in the evening. It’s not far off from her morning routine, picking out an outfit and getting herself dolled up for a night on the town. She spends it dancing in clubs, or drinking, or finding her way into someone’s nice, hopefully four-poster bed - anything not in the cells. Night Routine: Unless she sleeps over someone’s house, she has her whole evening skincare routine. It helps wind her down. Then she’ll read a book until it makes her fall asleep. If she’s not in the cells, she will still find time to wash her face - she’s very meticulous about it. Sleep Habits: She’s a heavy sleeper, so she’ll sleep right through the night. Snores when he’s really tired, but never talk about it. Special Skills: Dancing, singing. She’s good at sewing. She loves fashion - at work she’ll dress up mannequins every day, so the storefront looks different and has variety, showing off her skills and the merchandise. She loves listening to showtunes, it’s her first love. Unskilled at: Academics. Most sports. Sharing. Video games. And driving - she’s not a careless driver on purpose, but she likes to go fast and is pretty addicted to her phone. She’s not a good reader, but she’ll still read - it just takes her longer. Hobbies: Makeup, fashion. She reads fashion magazines like the bible, but does like the occasional thriller or romance. If she had her own kitchen, she’d be baking, but only small portions. She does really like the beach, laying out in the sun - except it’s mostly shade, because she isn’t risking wrinkles to her pale skin for that extra bit of warmth. Watching soap operas and other daytime television.

FAVORITES (AND OTHER MISCELLANIA):

Book: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid Movie: Legally Blonde TV Show: The Young and the Restless Album: Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream Artist: Taylor Swift Song: Like a Prayer by Madonna Sport/Sport Team: The Westminster dog shows Color: Pink. Or red. Sometimes gold. And silver, too. Meal: Cheesecake Drink: Grey Goose Cosmo Snack: Heart-Shaped Lollipops Outfit: A pink slip used as a dress with ankle high, white go-go boots, along with a leather jacket and sparkly clutch purse. Quote: “She’s like a dream girl. And I think a dream girl should live in a dream world. Prized Possession: She has a lot of vintage perfumes she hoards and protects.

#all about tilly #don't belong to no city don't belong to no man || musings #pinned post

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