#bc i have to prepare for the worst bc of COURSE i do

[depresseddepot]

I'm tired of being scared abt this. I'm 100% certain I have adhd (if you didn't already know) and relatively convinced that I have autism too

[thetriangletattoo]

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[ybcpatrick]

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[dingusships]

bigass vent over general life things

things in general are really not great i don't really have any optimism for the future or making a life for myself. like i don't really have any drive or ambition to look forward or work towards anything good/meaningful because as time goes on there are going to be really bad life events that i just don't think i can keep facing anymore. and theyre going to be worse. i'm just dragging along life solely on the basis that i was plopped here to just Exist and that's my task at hand that i'm reluctantly upholding. just exist until it's over

[chahnniesroom]

for richer, for poorer

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: gift giving has always been something you've agonised over. for chan, just having you in his life is enough.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: insecurities (especially related to finances), feeling anxious, hurt/comfort

a/n: i know it’s still a long time until october, but i didn't write it in time to fit as like a holiday related fic. formatted this on my phone bc i'm lazy so please let me know if anything looks weird!

bonus: minho's reaction to his gift (included as a reblog of this post)

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Gift giving has always been something that you agonised over. You wanted so desperately to get something meaningful and special that nothing you ended up getting seemed special enough.

So when Felix had proposed throwing both Chan and Minho a party for their birthdays, you were more than happy to help plan. You could see that Chan had hesitated when Felix had told them about it, but he had ultimately agreed when he saw the way Minho had seemed to perk up at the idea.

It wouldn’t be anything too big, Felix promised, just inviting some close friends to have dinner and hang out. It slowly balloons into more than a simple dinner, but the opportunities for the members to have their friends gather are so rare that you swallow your concerns.

The night of, you can’t help feeling a bit nervous. You recognise almost everyone, but that's the part that scares you - you've only seen most of these people through your phone screen before. You know Chan and Minho have a lot of idol friends, but you didn't realise there would be so many at the party. You had discussed the guest list with Felix briefly, but your concern had been about the number of guests and not who they actually were. Now you’re starting to regret it, you aren’t mentally prepared to be face to face with so many celebrities.

The time passes surprisingly quickly with people trickling in as the night goes on. Dinner is casual, you’ve helped to cook a number of dishes and takeout was ordered to fill the rest of the counter. There isn’t enough proper seating so everyone is spread throughout the kitchen and living room.

You spend most of the time just wandering through and making sure that there’s no shortage of drinks, appetizers, and that the empty dishes or cups are cleared away. Of course, you greet everybody as they arrive and thank them for coming, but it’s hard not to be intimidated by all the famous faces.

Eventually Changbin drags the birthday boys to the living room, standing them in front of the TV to open gifts. Everyone else either crams themselves onto the couches, sits on the floor, or loiters closer to the doors.

Chan insists that he open presents at the same time as Minho instead of one at a time like Jisung suggests. Someone pushes a couple of matching boxes into their hands and steps away.

It's almost comical how different they open them. Chan takes his time, carefully pulling apart the ribbon that's wrapped around the box, sliding the lid off and putting it to the side, then slowly peeling aside the tissue paper. Minho on the other hand, manages to pull the ribbon off the box without untying it and flips the box to shake off the lid and reveal the contents.

They're complementary hoodies in the casual and oversized fit that the boys usually go for. You recognize the brand, have seen the members wear it on more than one occasion, and know that they most likely cost the same as your monthly salary.

The next gifts seem fairly innocuous, a beanie for Chan and a baseball cap for Minho, but you know their pieces often go for over a million won, more than you’ve ever spent on a single clothing item.

It continues on like this, the boys receiving items like music equipment, alcohol, and sunglasses. It makes you swallow hard when you think of your own, mostly handmade gift.

Maybe the worst part is that nobody else at the party even blinks an eye at it. You can’t blame them, it’s the nature of their occupation that has gotten them desensitised to being surrounded by luxury and it’s not like they can’t afford to indulge in getting more expensive things.

When you look down, wanting to stop staring at the pile of opened gifts, you see that you've partially crushed the packaging of your own gift. It already looked shabby enough, it was obvious you had wrapped it yourself and the paper you used was from the supermarket, but now it was even worse.

When you try to smooth out the crinkles, your shaky fingers somehow make it ruin it more. You bite your lip, hard, then stop, self conscious about your appearance around all these idols.

It suddenly feels cramped and too warm, sweat starting to gather on your forehead and back. The room starts to spin slightly and you become overly aware of your heart beating in your chest.

A burst of laughter from the crowd spooks you, pulling you out of your head. You use the opportunity to get to your feet and excuse yourself. You slip away as quietly as you can and breathe a sigh of relief when you make it into Chan's room without anyone following you.

You don’t bother to turn on the lights, not wanting anyone to check up on you, and sit on the ground with your back against Chan’s bed. With the door closed, the noise from the party is muffled and it’s significantly colder in this area of the dorm. You press your hands to your face and take a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate.

You don’t know what’s wrong with you because you know you shouldn’t feel like his. You had been looking forward to watching Chan and Minho open their gifts, you had spent a lot of time preparing them and you had felt confident that they would enjoy them.

Well, until you saw everything else that they received.

Now your ideas just seemed silly. You feel humiliated at the thought of everybody seeing the obviously cheap gifts and even worse when you consider how ashamed Chan might be for others to know that you were his partner.

Although you were working full-time at the moment, you had only graduated from university last year and your student debt was an ever present weight on your shoulders that you tried your best to hide. Everything you had went to paying it back and checking in bi-weekly to see the number get smaller and smaller was the only thing that made you feel better.

Chan knew that you often worried about money. You had been mortified the first time that he had walked in on you trying to organise your finances for the next few months. He had glanced over your shoulder before you had even realised he was in the room and all the red cells showing where you were in a deficit were hard to miss.

It had been early on in your relationship and the dates that the two of you had been on as well as a couple unforeseen events had meant that you had been spending way more than what you had anticipated. Of course, Chan had treated you on a number of occasions, but you refused sometimes because you felt guilty every time he offered to pay, especially since it had been only a couple years after his debut.

He had been more than understanding, but you had been so embarrassed and caught off guard that you couldn't stop the tears from streaking down your face. Since then, Chan and the members had never done anything to make you feel like they pitied you or thought any less of you for your financial situation, in fact they did the opposite.

When you had first started visiting the dorms, opening the food delivery apps was like a reflex for all of the boys once it was dinnertime. You were always hesitant to choose anything and felt even worse by the nonchalant way that they covered the costs each time. Even though you knew they didn’t think anything of it, you couldn’t help but feel like you were taking advantage of their hospitality.

Somehow they caught on to your reluctance to buy food and now it's tradition that you cook for them when you come over, enough so that they keep the kitchen stocked with more than ramen, chicken breasts, and protein powder.

In particular, Minho absolutely loved your cooking and had needled you many times on sharing how you made it. You had always denied him though, saying that you didn't use exact measurements and came up with things on the fly. That’s why for his gift, you had taken the time to create a recipe book, complete with pictures for each step and modifications that he could make based on the ingredients he had.

You had spent a few months thinking about what to give Chan. He was harder to shop for since you knew he wasn't overly fond of celebrating his birthday and didn’t want you to spend money on him, but was always touched when you got him something. Usually, you tried to do something he was more likely to accept.

Last year, you had organised with the company to give Chan a day off and had taken him out to a movie. It was a pretty standard date, but the two of you rarely had the opportunity to go out together and you knew Chan had resigned himself to watching the movie when it was released online instead of going to the theatres like he had hoped to. Having to spend a few days trying to sort out all the logistics of secretly rearranging Chan’s schedule had been more than worth it with the way that his face had lit up when you had told him about what you had planned.

You don't know how long you sit alone, but every time that you tell yourself to get up and rejoin the party, it feels impossible to move.

“Hey,” Chan's voice is cautious, but you startle anyway, scrambling to stand up. Stuck in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just needed some air, it was getting kind of stuffy in there,” you explain. “I didn't think you'd notice.”

“Of course I noticed. You were there one second and gone the next, I didn't know what happened.”

“It’s nothing.” You avoid Chan’s gaze, not wanting to see the concern that shines in his eyes.

Chan steps closer, then reaches out and tangles your fingers together, using your connection to pull the two of you to sit on the bed.

“Y/n, baby,” he says softly. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in here.” He leans forward until the side of his head bumps into yours.

“It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s not important,” he warns. “It’s important to you and that makes it important to me, okay?”

“Uhm,” you pause for a moment, unsure of how you want to word your thoughts. You trust Chan, but it still feels scary being vulnerable. “I guess, I was just feeling… Insecure.”

“Insecure?” Chan tilts his head slightly. “About what?”

“Everyone-” you laugh slightly, embarrassed. “Everyone gave you guys such nice gifts, I feel like mine don’t even compare.”

“Y/n, you know I don’t care about that kind of thing. If I had the choice, nobody would be giving me gifts at all. Just having you in my life is enough.” Chan’s voice is painfully sincere.

“I know you don't mind. It just- It feels bad that I can't give you something nice like they can. It's dumb, I know, but I can't help it.”

“I can open it here, away from everyone else if you want,” Chan offers. “Or you don't even have to give it to me today, you can save it until you feel better. Or don't give it to me at all, it's all okay.”

“No no, I want you to have it,” you say immediately. Before you can think better of it, you reach down and retrieve the gift from where you left it on the floor.

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Chan reassures you.

“This is fine,” you decide. “Just the two of us."

“Okay.”

“It’s not designer,” you say suddenly, fiddling with the ribbon that keeps the two packages together. Both of you ignore the fact that you’re just stalling at this point.

“I don’t need any more clothes, I barely wear everything I own now,” Chan jokes.

“Really, you might not like it,” you warn.

“Baby, when have I ever disliked anything that you’ve gotten for me?” Chan drops the teasing tone. You think for a moment.

“When you asked me to order noodles for you and I accidentally got you the spicy version and it made you cry?”

“Did I say that I didn’t like them?”

“No, you ate it all even though I warned you that it would make your stomach hurt for the next couple of days,” you say, smiling faintly at the memory.

You had gotten yourself the same dish and had found it to be bearable, while Chan’s face had turned bright red after the first bite. You had offered a few times to get him a non-spicy version so that he could enjoy himself, but he had been determined to finish, soaking his shirt and beanie with how much he had sweated. He hadn’t even been able to continue carrying a conversation with you, too busy trying to suck in air to cool his mouth.

It had been even funnier for you the next day, receiving multiple texts from Chan about his stomach hurting and having to continually pause dance practice to go to the bathroom.

“The pain was worth it,” Chan insists. “I'm actually convinced that I'll like anything you give me. Now come on, let me open my gifts!”

You hand over the gift and watch as he pulls away the ribbon to separate the boxes and peels away the tape on the first package. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries not to rip the wrapping paper.

This gift was more neutral, a set that contained a wallet and cardholder, both in black. Although Chan hadn’t complained at all, the wallet he had been using was from years ago and the synthetic material was starting to crack and flake away at the edges.

He looks delighted, examining it briefly before pulling out his old wallet and transferring all his cards and cash into this new one. Although it’s not a name brand, you had purchased it at a small shop specialising in handcrafted genuine leather goods at a surprisingly affordable price. It was good quality and suited the simplicity that Chan preferred.

“It's just what I needed,” he says, sounding pleased. “You pay so much attention.”

“I'm glad you like it,” you say, feeling relieved even though you had been pretty sure that he would be happy with it.

The unease comes back when he turns his attention to the second gift. Once again, he puts in effort to gently unwrap it, revealing an old chocolate box that you had repurposed from one of your dates.

You’ve always been on the more sentimental side and had saved it, wanting to remember the evening that Chan had taken you out and the two of you had spent 20 minutes in the shop, meticulously picking out the flavours that you wanted to try. The box is made of a surprisingly durable material and is the perfect size for this gift. You’ve painted over it too, concealing the original design.

Chan turns it around in his hands curiously, before sliding the lid up. You turn away to stare at your hands, overwhelmed by nervousness.

You already know what’s inside. It’s a deck of cards that you’ve transformed, with 52 things I love about you inscribed on one of the jokers. On the flip side, you’ve painted a picture of you and Chan smiling widely with your cheeks pressed together. It’s his favourite, one he always tells you would be permanently on his lock screen if he wasn’t an idol.

The rest of the cards are decorated similarly, a small drawing or painting on one side with the things, people, and places that Chan loves on one side, and something that you love about Chan on the other. The last joker is the only one that's different, you've treated it as a card and have a small message written on.

You had been so excited when you had thought of the idea, even though it was almost embarrassingly cheesy. Chan was often hard on himself, overly critical, and sometimes insecure. You tried your best to reassure him that he was doing well, both in his career and personal life, but you weren’t always able to be with him to do it in person.

As time goes by, your dread just continues to build, but you don't dare look up, not wanting to see Chan's reaction. Based on the silence, he’s clearly not thrilled with the silly idea that you had gone with. You can almost imagine his expression, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as he tries to think of what he can say to let you down easy.

Finally, you can't take it any longer and you lean forward, reaching out to grab at the cards that he's still reading though.

“I'm sorry, it's stupid, I know,” you say quickly. “You can tell me that you hate it, it's okay. I don't know what I was thinking, but just- give me more time, I'll get you something else, something nicer-”

It catches Chan off guard, and instead of successfully taking the cards away, you grapple with them for a second before they slip between both of your hands, scattering across the floor like confetti.

You instantly drop to your knees, scrabbling to scoop them up like the most awful game of 52 pick up that you've ever played in your life. To your horror, the task gets even more difficult as tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Y/n-” Chan says gently, reaching out and taking your wrists in his hands to stop your frantic movements. “Come here.”

You resist for a moment, but he pulls you into his arms, cradling your head so your face is resting on his shoulder. The tears leaking from your eyes soak into the fabric and you sniffle softly.

“I'm sorry,” you say, voice partially muffled. “I'm a mess.”

In response, Chan pulls back slightly and when you don't turn towards him, he taps a finger against your cheek until you face him. Your eyes widen when you notice that he also has tear tracks streaking down his face.

“What-”

“It's okay, I'm a mess too. I should have said it sooner,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Still in his embrace, you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. “I love it. I was overwhelmed, I wanted to say something but you left me speechless.”

“Don't just say it-”

“I've never had a gift so thoughtful, Y/n,” Chan says earnestly. “How could you think this was stupid? You must have spent hours and hours on it and I really appreciate it. It’s just- is this really what you think of me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Do you really love that-” Chan picks up the closest card to him and flips it so that he can read the message. “That I snore? Y/n, why do you even have this in the list?”

“Yes, snoring was one thing and it's because with everything, there’s always a reason to love it. It's not that I love that you snore, but with your insomnia, hearing you snore is a relief because it means you're sleeping, that you're resting. Even with your insomnia, I know you're busy thinking of every little way you can make things just right for you and the members. It's because you care so much, how could I not love these parts of you?”

“You- you really love all these little things?”

“Of course I do,” you say in a hushed voice. “Of course. When I was making these, I couldn't fit it all. I love everything about you, Chan.”

This time, it's Chan that breaks eye contact, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you.”

“It's not about deserving. You didn't have to do anything, that's the whole point. I love you just as you are.”

“You know that's how I feel about you, right?”

“Chan-”

“Even if you never got me anything ever again, I wouldn't love you any less. You being in my life, by my side, that's the greatest gift you could ever give.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[asmodeus-snoof]

thinking about dedede to cope with the fact that tomorrow is my math final and I need to pass it

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (i)

grumpy!matt sturniolo x sunshine!fem oc / reader

summary : matt is a grumpy tattoo artist and y/n books him for her first tattoo.

warnings : needles and pain (not very detailed tho)

mickey speaks : i don't have any tattoos so i actually know nothing ab the procedure lmaooo just guessing but i’ll be writing multiple parts for this. also i am very much self indulging bc i headcannon y/n as poc! but obvi anyone can read there's not much exclusivity ab how i write her, i js wanted to note that for any poc readers <3.

THIS IS PART 1 BTW!!!!

“SHITTT,” you draw out the last syllable at the rumble and screech of your car engine as you continue your attempt to start it.

eventually you throw your head backwards in defeat, annoyed by the unbudging car. this is the actual worst timing. you're supposed to be at the tattoo shop (that is a 12 minute drive from your apartment complex) for an appointment in less than twenty minutes.

you truly want to scream and border on throwing a tantrum but decide it would probably be better to find a solution than complain about the agony further.

you quickly find your roommate's contact, raising your phone to your ear and pinching your eyes shut as the vibrating ring hums through your skull.

"y/n? what's up?" andrea answers confused as you had only just walked out of the door five minutes ago.

"hi drea... so i know you have your own plans right now but is there any way you can give me a ride... please?"

you hear shuffling on the line, "mmm, where to?"

౨ৎ

“thank you again for driving me,” you smile at andrea and squeeze her hand before reaching for the door.

“yes, of course. you can call me when you’re done and i’ll head over here- m’sorry i can’t stay with you.” she replies and exaggerates a frown.

"i'll be fine, i think- i hope..."

"you will be fine. just don't stress or it'll hurt more."

౨ৎ

your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you make your way into the shop (in its form of an oversized warehouse, fixed up to look stylish and comfortable- something you’d never really seen before). the rickety jingle of a small bell kindly indicates your presence to the rest of the shop.

a few people sitting in a waiting area look up before continuing their conversations (though some continued to stare as you walk by). you see a surprising amount of people crowding in a brightly decorated lounge area, housing many arcade games and a kitchenette.

you reach the receptionist desk and are greeted by a young man dressed casually, humming along to the music playing in the background of the space.

“um, hi. i’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” you state with a smile, you’re suddenly aware of how nervous you truly are.

the brunette looks over to a desktop screen with a soft scrunch of his face, “for y/n, right? huh, that’s crazy…” he rubs his chin, “1:30 was like nine minutes ago,” he looks up at you, almost like he was questioning you; who do you think you are? and why do you think you’re important enough to be late?

as soon as your face begins to morph into fear and embarrassment his own face splits into a large smile as he laughs softly. “i’m sorry- i’m such an ass but i had to- your file said you’re new clientele so i just had to fuck around.”

“you’re sick! i was fully prepared for a fucking lecture on timeliness or something,” you let out a soft laugh.

the boy comes from around the desk holding a paper and clipboard. “yeah, sorry, i’m chris,” he reaches a hand out to which you willingly return and restate your name to him, “‘m not usually up front so you probably talked to asha over the phone when booking.”

you nod and smile at the familiar name, “yeah, she was so helpful over the phone.”

“she’s awesome, i miss her,” he touches each of his shoulders then forehead before kissing his hand and pointing to the sky.

"oh my god? i'm sorry for your loss."

his eyes squint and lips pucker in confusion, "oh, she's not fired she's just on vacation right now."

"so why'd you...?"

chris cuts you off by handing you the clipboard and grabbing a pen from a cluttered mason jar on the desk as he explains, “okay, we’re just gonna have you fill out this quick consultation form; just so you and your artist will be on the same page about things.” you nod in understanding. “keep it brief, matt’s not big on reading large bodies of text,” chris laughs.

“got it,” you smile before turning to find a chair and begin writing. you truly were relieved that chris wasn’t hard on you about being late, for a second you thought you would be lectured and have to carry the guilt of dissapointing someone into a room where you'd be paying to lie in excruciating physical pain. (damn, double homecide)

the sheet had general information to fill before the questions specifically about the tattoo you’d be getting today came.

you go back up to chris once you’re finished.

“cool, follow me we’ll set you up with matt.” he leads the way and your nerves are suddenly back as it's feeling more and more real with each step. you pacify your thoughts by looking around at the many images and messages written in sharpie along the walls of the hallway. there's also plenty of hanging shelves around with vintage trinkets and succulents that compliment the space around.

chris reaches a curtain and dips his head past as if he were checking for something before giving you a chance to see. you notice the small "Matt" embroidered on the black curtain. chris then opens it wide enough for the both of you to walk into the surprisingly large space.

(who you can only assume to be) matt sits comfortably in a wheeled desk chair, legs spread. his elbow rests on the arm of the chair and he holds his head up with two of his fingers, as his middle finger grazes his irritated mouth with a stern look on his face while he scrolls on his phone.

he doesn’t move his position when he looks up at the two of you.

“alright! matt this is y/n,” chris motions between you two. matt hums, placing his phone on the desk and placing his hand out expectantly for the clipboard. chris goes to hand it to him and whispers, “fix your face, jackass,” then turning around to leave you some reassuring words, “good luck y/n, the tat’s gonna look amazing.”

but chris doesn’t see matt exaggerating a large, sarcastic smile from behind him in defense of chris’ words (he immediately drops it though). something that would make you at least giggle if you weren’t so nervous.

“thanks,” your voice is a little hoarse as you haven’t used it in some time. matt watches the boy leave before looking over to you. he rolls the chair closer, reading over your short (as requested) responses.

“you can sit down.” he forms it almost as a question like are you going to sit down or do i have to direct you to do everything?

you sit on the black cushioned bench, lined with a disposable white cloth and begin to fidget with your fingernails as matt goes over your paperwork quietly.

“''kay, so you’re getting a small hello kitty on your lower hip?” he summarizes while checking and signing a few lines on a paper.

“yeah, um, i told asha over the phone that way you could have it sketched already- she told me that’s best and saves time for the both of us.”

his response is a slowed nod and a breathy, “yep,” as he rolls over to his desk and places the clipboard on the surface before opening a drawer and digging through it.

you gaze around the room and wonder if he decorated the space himself or if he wasn’t the type to be bothered enough to add personal things to his work area. almost all the posters are of music artists or tattoos, the most personal things you see are a small picture frame on his desk and a pokémon plushie sat on a chair in the corner of the room. all of which just pose more questions in your working brain.

you notice him switching to a different swivel chair that is lower to the ground and bringing himself (as well as a moving table with already prepared supplies) closer to you.

you’re nervous again. even after your roommate and older brother have both given you advice on first tattoos and the pain expected you’re still finding yourself scared of what to expect. your ear piercings would have nothing on this.

“first tattoo?” matt clarifies, as if he could read your mind. you nod and go to speak but stop when he gestures for you to lay back on the cushion.

you’re sure that he only was searching for a quick confirmation from you and is not too interested in your life or what brings you here but you’ve found that talking relieves your own stress and you absolutely cannot just lay there and only speak when spoken to.

“yeah, i guess m’nervous. i just hope i don’t, like, die from pain or hate the outcome or curse myself in a couple years for the placement- but it's not that i'm doubting that it'd be cute. younger me would be screaming at the fact that i'm even here..." you pause just for a second. "but then again i'm not sure how much forty year old me will appreciate it. so i guess i just don’t know. you know?”

you lean yourself up to get a look at matt, only to realize he has airpods in and simply has not been listening or interested in you (just as you expected). he’s moving his head the smallest amount to the beat as he works on his sketch.

he notices your movement though and takes a headphone out of his ear, “are you okay?” is all he asks.

a pretty broad question. and an anxiety inducing question to ask a girl who's been questioning her decisions as much as you have. you hope you’re okay. will you still be okay when this (mostly) permanent decision is etched into your skin forever? is he okay? will he give you any sense of encouragement or comfort during this process? are tattoo artists typically like this or are you just considered especially needy clientele?

“yeah, i just was- like, curious, i guess.” you mumble a little and internally hate that you feel so insecure in this situation. so out of control.

“was just adjusting my sketch to be a smaller. nothing crazy happening over here.” he shrugs. “you can go ahead and pull your shirt up, though. i’m just gonna clean the area and prep before inking.” he explains to you very straight and to the point.

you fall back into place and obey, inching your shirt up further to expose your lower stomach. you drape your arms over your face to gain composure as you hear matt rip some packaging.

the coolness of the cleaning pad sends your stomach butterflies and you try to not think too hard about the fact that matt’s hands will be on your lower stomach and hip for a good length of time.

eventually matt speaks to you again, “i’m starting so if you’re feeling the need to get the fuck out you gotta do it now or for forever hold your peace.”

you smile a little at his dry joke but when you turn your head to see him fully serious you blink, “no, i’ll be fine. thanks though.”

he just nods his head and goes to put his airpods back in before you’re interrupting again, “wait. whatcha listening to?”

he’s suprised by the question. his clients rarely get too involved in what he’s doing. mostly because he does a great fucking job no matter how few words he may utter over an entire session. there's a mutual understanding there that he's never had to speak up about to anyone. other artists use a strong bond or charisma to secure returning customers but matt finds there’s nothing better to display than his pure talent and passion for his craft. that’s how he keeps clients. they ask and he will always deliver; and that’s how he particularly likes it. no questions and minimal conversation.

the sound of the tattoo gun begins and just for your sake he decides to answer the question without malice, “just some frank ocean instrumental tracks." he places his hands back onto your skin, "don’t start moving.”

you pinch your eyes shut and squeeze your forearms as soon as the initial pain takes over. it’s a feeling you can only describe as a needle poking into you a trillion times at once. which is literally what's happening to you.

you’re not oblivious to matt’s disengagement with your attempts at conversation but you need him to continue to speak to you or else you’ll think too much about the needle actively puncturing you. “oh yeah? i’ve never listened to him before…”

“surprising. he’s pretty big.” matt mumbles slightly, focusing on his work far more than his slight interest in your knowledge of frank ocean.

“mhm. i’ve been meaning to give him a listen. could you share?”

matt’s eyes just move to look up at your face as he tries not to beg you to just be quiet and let him do this so that you both can leave within an hour. “i’m good on that.” he returns to tattooing.

“huh? you can’t share music?”

“i would prefer not to but-” he doesn’t even know why he’s continuing to fuel this anymore.

“what if i add a pretty,” you pause to wince a little as the needle moves lower, “pretty please?”

“i’m almost done,” he mumbles the lie.

“matt?”

he pauses for only a second to glance over to you. he’s met with a face scrunched in pain with an attempted smile that he thinks makes you look more like a doped up hippie than the cute effect you were going for. you plead after his glance, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes and sets his tattoo gun down, reluctantly swiveling over to his desk. before you even realize what exactly he’s doing there’s a airy beat of drums and piano playing from a small speaker in the room.

once he's back over to you he can tell you’re smiling even though your face is mostly covered by your arms. “thank you, i needed a distraction or something.”

he mumbles an “mhm” and returns to his work.

౨ৎ

there was generally no talking after that. only a few moments you observed (due to your need to cling on to literally anything going on besides the pinching at your lower side) that were any indication of matt's quiet presence. you noticed when matt would softly hum the lyrics to the instrumentals over the speaker and when you began to tap your fingers out of boredom and nerves, to which he simply placed his hand over them to force them flat while muttering a small “stop.”

when matt was completely finished he asked you if he could take a picture to add to his instagram and you agreed eagerly. he then added a strip of tattoo film over a layer of protective ointment. after he helped you to fully stand he explained how to care for it and how important cleaning is because “that shit will get gunky as fuck.” and you told him that you promise to do everything he said. he also gave you a detailed list on a card for you to follow just in case you forget.

you glance down at your tattoo one last time before you begin to leave the room you’d just spent a lengthy hour of your life in. you assume matt doesn’t want much else from you until he calls your name from his desk. you turn and see him still looking at his phone before glancing up, “uh, what’s your insta handle, so i can tag you in this?”

you don’t know why you’re surprised but you are.

you agree to exchange handles with him before deciding to compliment him once more, “my tattoo is perfect, by the way. i love it so much, thank you.” you want to tell him that you hope you didn’t annoy him too much but you don’t know if that will annoy him more. so you take his nod and hint of a smile as his way of showing appreciation, keeping your own smile bright to mask the crushing feeling of someone seeming so indifferent towards you.

after walking past the curtain and through the trinket-filled hallway you’re back to the main area of the warehouse. you see a different collection of people gathered playing pool and some more huddled on a couch looking at a girl’s phone in awe. chris is busy talking with what seems to be a close friend when you walk up to the reception desk.

when his eyes find your bright expression he’s bouncing back with energy, “hey! i’m assuming it went well?" he asks.

"very well. glad it's over though, i can't lie." you laugh while taking your debit card from your purse.

"yeah, definitely not the best feeling. especially when matt's ugly face is that close to you." chris jokes and takes your card to cash you out.

you laugh along with him but assure him that matt's looks weren't an issue. he raises his eyebrows and has a growing smirk that travels to his eyes when he gives you your card back. you try not the blush at the implication, "i didn't mean it like that."

"right," he nods and chuckles softly, "well hopefully you'll be back for another eventually?" he hands you a receipt.

"i mean how could i not with such a sweet receptionist asking me? i'm sure you get everyone to come back," you joke.

chris shrugs with a cocky grin, "somethin' like that."

౨ৎ

"oh my god it's fucking adorable, what?!" andrea exclaims with a spoonful of frozen yogurt still in her mouth.

she initally begged to see it as soon as she picked you up but you dramatically told her you had just experienced the worst pain of your life and you'd need a sweet treat if you were planning to not sleep the rest of the day away. so she just rolled her eyes and demanded you show her once you both arrive at your favorite frozen yogurt shop (conveniently down the street from your apartment complex).

"i knowww," you respond and quickly pull the lower part of your shirt down with a smile, taking a seat across from drea.

"how'd it go, though? i'm curious. i've only been to warehouse 79 like once, and it was for an event."

"it was good, they were all generally kind and my guy did exactly what i wanted. i'm pretty happy."

"'my guy,' oh okayy?" she takes a bite and smirks.

"not what i meant! i should have just said matt. like, the guy who did my tattoo-"

"mhmm."

"stop.” you smirk, “i mean he was not ugly by any means but he seemed to not care to get to know me at all. which is fine, he's not paid to care about me. but i doubt i'll ever see him again." you shrug taking another bite of frozen yogurt.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[beenbaanbuun]

okay okay so question, has san been informed of the relationship dynamics in the house? i’m assuming he knows about matz and darling but was he pre warned about darling and yeo? bc i just thought about it and image they just kinda forgot to mention that they have a bestie with benefits situation, so second nature for them, and then randomly one day san walks in on darling and yeo going at it. the poor guy is 1) startled bc no matter what scenario that’s awkward but 2) he potentially thinks that darling and yeo are doing something wrong. so now he’s left to figure out if he should say something to matz or if that’s just way above his pay grade. idk why this whole scenario is so funny to me but it is. poor sannie😭

san was 100% not prewarned…

of course he knows abouts hwa and joong and the weird pink thing that follows them around like a little puppy, but yeosang and darling?? he’s clueless!

so i’ve mentioned before in this post that sex between the two of them is technically banned unless mommy and daddy are there to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand. it just so happens that darling is a little brat and yeosang will do anything to make her happy (even if he won’t admit it) and no one ever said a little head here and there wasn’t allowed… if darling wants to suck yeosang off, it’s not technically against the rules, right?

and that’s absolutely what san walks in on one day…

the dining room door swings open, startling you as you push yeosang’s cock to the back of your throat. you gag around it, immediately pulling off of it to cough your lungs out. you’re half expecting to hear hongjoong scoff at the two of you before commanding yeosang get on the floor too, or perhaps seonghwa to give you a disappointed sigh before getting you to crawl to him. instead all you hear is a tray clatter to the floor.

“what the—”

“san!” yeosang cries, hands flying to his dick to cover his achingly hard member. he nudges you with his knee, trying to get your attention, but you just hit his thigh; can’t he see you’re choking on his dick? “we weren’t doing anything!”

you nod through your coughs, agreeing that you definitely weren’t breaking any rules. what san doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“you weren’t— yeosang, she was sucking you off!” the butler practically screeches. yeosang hushes him harshly in return; the other members of the house definitely do not need to know what transpired between the two of you. “are you— do they—” san takes a deep breath to calm himself, “is this allowed?”

silence fills the room, neither you or yeosang wanting to answer that question. as much as the two of you like to pretend that anything other than actual penetration is allowed, you both know that it really isn’t. if either of your lovers caught you like this, you’d both be punished more severely than you ever have been before.

san swallows thickly, the worst case scenario filling up his mind. but you seem so in love with them? how could you even consider cheating on them with yeosang? he’s just supposed to be a cuddle buddy, isn’t he?

he should tell someone, he decides. after all, his bosses would be fuming if they found out that he knew about this. the last thing he wants is to get fired from the best paying job he’s ever had. he takes a step back to the door, preparing himself to sprint upstairs to hongjoong’s office.

“where are you going?” yeosang warbles, eyes going wide, “are you going to tell hongjoong? please don’t tell hongjoong…”

“well i—”

“san, no,” you say, voice gravelly from the effects of having a dick shoved down it. from your position on the floor, it feels like you’re begging him. perhaps you are; he supposes it won’t be pleasant for you if your lovers find out you’re cheating on them. “please, they’ll be so mad.”

“i need to—”

“it’s not like it’s actual sex,” yeosang tries to reason, “just small things; it barely even counts!”

“it’s still wro—”

“it’s not wrong, per se,” you whine, “they were just too busy to watch and we were both horny…”

“i don’t ca— wait, what?” san pauses, the cogs in his brain turning as he mulls over your words, “you mean to say you two are allowed to do this?”

you shrug.

“they’re supposed to watch but sometimes they’re busy and it’s not like we ever take it further than this!”

and suddenly, san doesn’t care anymore. he shakes his head, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. it’s his fault for digging, he supposes, but he wasn’t quite expecting for it to be a whole voyeurism thing rather than a cheating scandal. it serves him right for sticking his nose in places it doesn’t belong.

“no,” he mumbles, “this is above my pay grade… weird fucking family.”

[shima-draws]

OOUGHHH been thinking about Grovyle lately and how much I just *clenches fists* love him. Listen to me. Listen,

He is the character of all time. He’s introduced as a wanted criminal stealing something SO forbidden that even the worst Pokemon criminals won’t even touch. That immediately shoots his coolness factor through the ROOF. And the fact that nobody is able to catch him;; AND we see that he’s ridiculously clever and smart and can worm his way out of just about any situation with a bit of quick thinking. And he’s always surrounded in this air of mystery and intrigue and you’re set up to think well yeah he’s stealing Time Gears and stopping time everywhere OBVIOUSLY he has to be an asshole. Except during your first encounter with him he’s very calm and collected and shockingly polite, and even apologizes when he attacks you?? Basically just the opposite of what you’d expect from a criminal. And then to top it off you find out he’s from the FUTURE?? Which is SO sick. And he’s got some secret history with Dusknoir. And when he’s finally captured and being brought into Treasure Town all tied up he doesn’t even act out UNTIL Dusknoir mentions the planet’s paralysis. Which is the first hint you get that things are a leetle sus.

And when you get taken to the future and are about to be executed…he helps you? He has literally zero obligation to do so, esp since you’ve attacked him before. And there’s another subtle hint that maybe deep down he’s got a soft side, that he’s actually not a bad person. And it’s heartbreaking bc he finally knows someone else who is a common enemy of Dusknoir, and he clearly wants to team up with you, bc all this time he’d been by himself in the past and having people he can trust would make things so much easier (and it’s startling how easy he trusts others, too, especially considering everything he’s been through). But your partner isn’t having it and you can FEEL the disappointment he feels that he’s not able to convince you, that you aren’t going to work together, that he can’t have someone else to rely on besides himself. But that little spark, that glimmer of hope comes back when you catch up to him and you’re like yeah we’re going to decide for ourselves what we think about all this. And you find out from Celebi that Grovyle’s always been hasty, always hurrying ahead to try and achieve his goals, and it’s admirable but also regrettable bc he doesn’t ever have time for anything else.

And THEN you discover the truth…that he’s been your partner all along…and he speaks of you so fondly and has such faith in you that he’s totally fine leaving things to you and letting himself get captured because he trusts you SO much. And the despair right after when he finds out you’ve been traveling alongside him the entire time. His precious partner is also going to get captured and executed and the world is doomed to fall into disrepair. But then your partner ignites that spark of hope again and it’s enough, and you make it back to the past, and suddenly things are different but in a good way because Grovyle suddenly has someone to rely on again, even without a memory to go with it. But he can also tell that because of your amnesia he’s no longer important to you, not by choice of course, but you’ve found someone else, a partner suited for you that brings out the best in you. And that’s fucking heartbreaking because everything the two of you shared is gone now, and you’ve moved on, and even though you’re THERE you’re also so far away and so different from the person he once knew. But he knows he has to let you go, had to from the start anyway, because of the sacrifice you were prepared to make. That BOTH of you were prepared to make. And despite the fact that you have no memory he still. Trusts you. Completely. Enough to sacrifice himself to take Dusknoir back to the future. And believe that you’ll follow through with the vow you made and prevent the planet’s paralysis. And he KNOWS you will so he doesn’t know how much time he has left but it doesn’t matter because he’s been prepared to disappear, to die knowing that he’s saved the future, that he made his mark and was able to shine in his finest moments. He can leave this world knowing he did what he set out to do and he made a difference and things will be better for everyone he’s leaving behind. Shut up. Shut UP. I care about him so much I am GOING to explode. THE character ever. You don’t understand,

[steviesbicrisis]

I was hallucinating a few hours ago due to lack of sleep bUT-

Thinking about Steve who's confident in his bisexuality, told the kids that he likes both and that's okay because he knows they need, trying to flirt with Eddie who is in denial bc it has to be a joke, right? Harrington, the straightest man alive? Steve lady's man Harrington? Nah, it's only on his mind. Meanwhile Steve is getting more and more sad thinking he's being rejected.

Now, think about the Hellfire members knowing that Eddie's a crush on Steve because he talks about it CONSTANTLY and be sad because "he doesn't have a fat chance in hell". They're also very protective of him so if anyone new in the club is being homophobic, they just throw them out.

So one day Steve is in the Hellfire to wait for the kids and flirt a little, telling himself that "this is the last time, you'll get a GRIP and MOVE THE FUCK ON!" is what he tells to himself. He tries a little and drops after a while, so in the break time the old members tell him that he needs to leave, because they won't allow anyone doing that to Eddie, as in: they think Steve knows that Eddie's gay and likes him so he's flirting with him in a mocking way.

So he leaves.

And when everyone (Eddie + the kids) is asking where is Steve, they say that he was being homophobic, an automat answer and they quickly try to cover up because they don't want to do that to Eddie, but Dustin immediately response was:

"how can Steve be homophobic if he's bi?"

And the world freaking EXPLOSES!

not the steddie hallucinations LMAO

Thank you for sending me this ask because I'm president of "Steve is a confident disaster Bisexual" and I'm making t-shirts for club members as we speak.

Anyways, I think Steve would be extremely confident in his sexuality to the point where he just likes whoever and goes for it (with the right precautions of course). When Eddie comes out to him and the rest of their group, Steve doesn't even think about coming out to him as well because he's been out to the group for so long he just assumes that everyone close to him knows.

So when he realizes he likes Eddie and flirts with him, he doesn't know what to take from his reactions: he doesn't look annoyed or uninterested (think about the girls he would flirt with at Scoops) but he doesn't respond either, which is weird for someone like Eddie, who engages flirty banters even with plants.

Let's add to the mix that Steve's love life has been a mess recently, how many times can you be rejected before you think there's something wrong with you?

That's why he decides to go all in one last time and then leave Eddie alone, but even the worst scenarios in his head did not prepare him for Eddie's friends telling him off on his behalf.

Steve's head is a mess but most of it all, he's ashamed. He thinks he must've been so annoying and oblivious to Eddie's disinterest that the guy had to ask his friends to put Steve in his place for him.

So he finds himself in the school's parking lot, sitting on the hood of his car and mentally counting how much money he and Robin will need to move to another country (because not even the most embarrassing moment of his life will make him go anywhere without her), completely unaware of the chaos inside the Hellfire room.

Eddie isn't in a better mental state than Steve, so he's letting the kids and the band do the talk for him.

"What do you mean he's bisexual? of course he isn't, he's Steve Harrington!" Gareth exclaims, voicing out one of Eddie's many thoughts.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? do you need a special license for that?" Mike huffs, crossing his arms.

Jeff steps in to defend his friend "Of course not! But he's king Steve! And he's constantly picking on Eddie, you heard him!"

"Picking on him? Even a child could see that he has been throwing hints at Eddie for weeks now! What are you, five?"

Erica's words put an end to the discussion, silence falls down abruptly.

Eddie jumps up off his throne and follows wherever Steve had disappeared before, distantly hearing his friends muttered apologies.

He sighs in relief when he sees Steve hasn't left yet.

The car is parked the opposite way of the entrance, so Eddie can only see Steve's back, but he can tell he's gesturing and, when he's close enough, he can hear him talk.

"You can never take a hint, can you? This is so stupid, how can you go around saying you got game when you can't even tell if someone's interested in you? Harrington charm my ass" Steve's hands are all up in the air and Eddie realizes he's gesturing similar to how Eddie does on a daily basis.

It's cute.

"Please leave the Harrington charm out of this" Eddie interjects, making Steve jump in surprise.

He looks like a deer caught by car lights, but he hides it quickly behind a smirk that Eddie refers to - at least in his head - as bitchy Steve "so, no more sending your gang after me? are you worried they didn't do a good job? or am I forbidden to stay even in the parking lot? I'll let you know that I-"

Eddie loves mean girl Steve, but he has no time for him now, so he interrupts "Go on a date with me."

Steve's raised eyebrow and incredulous look tell him that he doesn't take him seriously in the slightest.

"I said, go on a date with me" he repeats.

"I heard you the first time" Steve's voice is close to a whisper "I just think you must've hit your head on your way here."

"You're the one always taking hits on the head, not me" Eddie takes a step closer to him.

Steve steps back "well, there's a first time for everyone" he says, looking away.

Eddie moves close again, his face only a few inches from Steve's "I don't hear an answer."

Steve's eyes flicker on Eddie's lips for half a second, "I didn't hear a question" he bites back.

Eddie smirks and, under Steve's shocked look, jumps on his car.

"Eddie, what the fuck? get down of my car!" he's trying to maintain a firm tone but Eddie can tell he's amused by his antics. Eddie couldn't ask for anything better.

He looks around the parking lot to make sure they're alone, then loudly enounces "Steve Fucking Harrington-"

"Don't say it like it's my middle name!"

Eddie ignores him "- king of the school grounds, best Scoops Ahoy model-"

"what does that even mean-"

"Worst employee that family video has ever had, Faberge Organics favorite costumer-"

"I told you that in confidence."

"Would you do this humble commoner kneeling at your presence" he kneels down theatrically as he says so "the honor of accompanying him for an evening of frivolous romantic shit that society expects you to do when you find a respectable partner?"

“If I say yes will you get down?”

Eddie moves his weight from one foot to the other, making the car under him bounce “I might consider it.”

Steve lifts his arms, apprehensively “Okay, yes fine! Now please get down-”

Eddie jumps down, right into Steve’s arms.

———

All the hellfire club members decide to stop spying on them and get back inside when Eddie’s highly entertaining antics turn into a gross make out session.

“So” Dustin elbows Gareth’s side “does that look homophobic to you?”

[spamgyu]

COLLEGE!Mingyu drabble – late night facetimes and fake flirting

no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable

College!Mingyu Masterlist

She was desperate.

She knew putting off her research paper until the very last minute was a bad idea. Though, in her defense she only did this because she was failing miserably in her micro-bio class and chose to direct all her energy to that, rather than a paper for a class that she was doing exceptionally well in.

Y/n had no choice but to stay up all night to complete her assignment.

Tapping away on her screen, she facetimed the one person she knew would be up at this ungodly time — wanting some company as she bullshitted her way to ten pages of "research".

She had no choice but to call him. He wasn't her first choice, okay? She just... had no one else she could think of.

"Sup." He nodded at her.

"Are you going to be awake for much longer?"

"Do you need me to be awake?" Mingyu sat up in his bed.

"Just for a bit," She sighed, using her water bottle to prop her phone up as she turned her attention back to her laptop. "I'm pulling an all nighter for this stupid paper."

"Ah.." He nodded. "Library?"

"Yep."

"Need company?"

"Facetime is fine."

"Okay." He nodded, allowing for the soft murmurs of others in the background and the sound of her typing away on her keyboard to fill his ears.

Y/n was two paragraphs in when she felt it.

He may have been behind the screen but she could feel his eyes cutting deep into her skin. She could see from her peripheral as he kept his gaze in her all while he absentmindedly played with his lips; a habit she had caught on to in during their many other calls.

School related of course.

She had caught him staring multiple times but chose to dismiss it as him being

"Let me know when you're almost done."

"If you're sleepy, it's okay. You can hang up."

Mingyu shook his head. "Not sleepy. Just wanted to time you. Let's see if you can get this done in two hours."

"God, I wish." She snorted. "I'm only two pages in."

"Get to typing then."

Mingyu was right.

Within two hours, she had managed to bullshit her way through her paper – not bothering to take a second glance at the word vomit she had typed out.

What was the worst that could happen? Get a B?

She'll manage.

"I'm going to hang up now." Y/n announced, reaching to touch the red button on the screen.

"Wait wait wait!" He cried. "I'm walking to 7/11 to get a drink, keep me company."

Y/n was just about to protest but the voice in her head had reminded her that Mingyu had been kind enough to stay on the phone with her – despite the evident yawn and sleepiness he tried to suppress.

"Fine." She huffed, gathering her belongings.

Y/n was fully prepared to make the journey back to her dorm all by herself – that's what the pepper spray and a pink taser her parents purchased for her was for.

Besides, she had Mingyu on the phone. If she were to get murdered, he'll be able to pick out the attacker from a line up.... hopefully.

She stepped foot out of the five story facility, gripping her phone in one hand the taser in another when she caught sight of a familiar face.

"I thought you said you were going to 7/11."

"I lied." He shrugged.

Mingyu knew if he had offered to walk her back, she would simply make it difficult for him – possibly spitting out a few threats. It may have just been a short walk from the library back to their dorms but it was more than enough distance for any creepy stranger to possibly attack her.

And he didn't want that weighing on his consciousness.

"If I had known you would show up, I would have dragged you here with me."

"Why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to bother."

"Never a bother." He shook his head.

"Please it's 3 am. Can we push the fake flirting to tomorrow?" She yawned.

"Who said it was fake?"

Y/n held her hand up. She never knew when he was being serious, and it was far too late in the night for her to entertain any of his jokes. "Don't start."

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @bubbly-moon @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

[linomilkers]

Minho x Reader [Warnings: dry humping, a filthy blow job, probably some medical inaccuracies, Minho calls Felix Yongbok bc canon and that's his Yongbokkie]

Note: Helloooo, this is my first time writing in this style! Just trying something different for this particular piece. Also, I started writing this before we found out about Minho's hand, so I promise I wasn't making light of his injury! Just a coincidence!

Let me know if you like it!!

Minho who hurt both of his wrists somehow, maybe it was a misstep in dance practice that sent him to the floor, or a stumble at the airport. His wrists are sprained, he's in two clunky arm braces to keep them still, and he's not meant to participate in any strenuous exercise that would involve movement of them. It sucked, being hurt, and he was missing schedules, he would fall behind in learning the new choreography, and he was setting the comeback back by a couple of weeks -- but it wasn't the worst thing. He could use a small break, even if it's just a week or two, of resting and taking it easy after nonstop months of producing content.

Minho who enjoys the break for about a week before he started getting a little stir crazy. Eating was a chore, a true test to his patience instead of being something gratifying and he couldn't cook much. He could move his wrists a little so that the muscles wouldn't weaken from not using them, but barely enough to eat, let alone prepare a full meal. Everyone else in the dorm was so busy that nobody was really cooking, so living off take out has made his face swollen and a bit puffy. Which he wouldn't mind as much, if not for how annoying Seungmin's been with pinching his cheeks and cooing at him for it. He can't even properly exact revenge and the creatine is taking full advantage of that.

Minho who can't touch himself properly and is starting to go crazy because of that too. He doesn't have to do it every day like some (namely Jisung, the little pervert), but he does it often enough that a week and a half in he's starting to feel it. Every morning he's waking up with something stiff between his legs, and he's helpless to it. Minho believes he has enough mental fortitude to look past his horniness, because no orgasm would be satisfying if he couldn't properly use his hands. He could wait it out, the braces would be off within two more weeks, he'd be fine.

Minho who breaks the day after he'd made a pact with himself to hold out. In the daze of his morning wood and being two seconds from sleep again, he rolled onto his front on his bed. Minho bunches his blankets up into a wad, then presses into it, a reedy sound leaving his mouth, unfamiliar to his own ears. It feels good, really, really fucking good, but it isn't enough. Still, it doesn't stop him from trying. He ruts pitifully into the blankets, chasing after a release he knew he wouldn't find, leaking precum in his briefs. It's embarrassing, how badly he needs it, how desperately he's trying for it -- but there's nobody home. Everyone left early this morning, so he was safe to do this for a little while, until he gets frustrated and takes a cold shower instead.

Minho, who forgot Yongbok's friend had spent the night and had promised to wait around for him to get back from schedules so they could go shopping, or out to eat, or whatever. The friend who Yongbok had made promise she would bring Minho breakfast in the morning, so that he wasn't fumbling around the kitchen himself. Minho had told him that he didn't need that, that he wouldn't want his friend going out of her way for him, but he refused to listen, and so did she. Which was surprising, she's usually pretty quiet, but the sudden headstrong attitude started him into silence and acceptance. "No earlier than 7AM," he told her, "I'll at least try to sleep in."

Minho, who doesn't hear the perfunctory knock on the door before it opens at 7:05 (of course she is close with Yongbok, because he barely waits half a second before opening the door after a halfhearted knock as well -- he doesn't care what he sees when he ambles in, usually caught in his own head about whatever he'd come for in the first place), and only realizes that Y/N is standing there with a bowl steaming in her hands when she says, "Oh, shit, sorry," as if this wasn't embarrassing enough, Minho has to let go of the pillow he'd caught between his teeth, "I should've waited for you to reply."

Minho, who knocks his head against the mattress and gives a disbelieving laugh, because of course this would happen to him. He's at the edge of his rope, he just wants to cum, and he can't even do that without being caught humping the bed like a desperate dog. He's caught between wanting to apologize to her for seeing him like this and wanting to scold her for walking in, in the first place. He doesn't get a chance to do either because Y/N offers her help instead, gentle and not in the least bit suggestive sounding, despite what she was suggesting, "I can help you out, if you want," she told him, "Yongbokkie thinks my mouth is really good."

Minho, who really doesn't have a chance to consider what that means, because since when was Yongbok getting his dick wet? Is that why he's always so calm? How long had she been doing that? And would he be okay with her offering that to Minho? Wouldn't he be upset? Or were they not together like that? He makes a confused sound in his throat, nervous to turn around where he knew she'd be able to see how hard he was, but too mortified to stay in the position he's in. So he flipped onto his back, and tries not to wince when her gaze zeros in on his cock -- so fierce, he's sure that he could feel it burning him, "I told him to ask if you needed help, but he didn't listen to me," Y/N continued to say, "Swore up and down about how you don't like asking for help, that you'd have to really need it to accept it, and I think humping your blankets is really needing it, right?" It was a fair assessment, and he feels his ears get hot, "I'll help."

Minho, who agrees because. . .well, why shouldn't he? She's offering, and he's hard and horny and wet, and he probably isn't thinking the clearest. He'd never thought of Y/N in that way, she's always just been Yongbokkie's sweet friend and that's it, but now he can't get the image of her with his cock in his mouth (or Yongbok's cock, for that matter) out of his head. With great effort, he scoots himself up the bed, among his pillows with his back against the headboard while Y/N got herself comfortable between his spread legs. She doesn't bother to take his briefs off at first, burying her nose against the hard swell beneath the fabric and breathing in deep. His face feels like its on fire, because who just does that? And why is he so turned on by it?

Minho, whose mind is spinning because this sweet girl's mouth is made for more than gentle compliments and clunky sentences in a language Yongbok is working hard to help her with. It's made for wetting the thin fabric of his light colored briefs, sucking opened mouth kisses that add to the growing wet spot on him. He has a hard time figuring out what was from him and what was from her, but it hardly matters. He throbs and twitches with every suckle and lick while she saturates the cotton. And when he is about to start whining at her for teasing him, her fingers dip beneath the elastic and fish his cock out from the briefs. A small, contented sigh leaves her mouth, like she'd been waiting all day to get her mouth on him. The head is flushed ruddy and dripping, shiny with his own slick and she shows her tongue to wet her lips, and he's throbbing again.

Minho, who can only gasp when she says, "You really needed this, right? I would have helped sooner. I like drinking cum from pretty boys," because what is Yongbok teaching her? But before he can ask, she's swallowing his cock down in one go and he cries out like he'd never been touched in his life. It sure feels like that right now, and the tight, wet heat of her mouth makes his brain melt, and any hope for thoughts that surpass, this is good, this is good, this is good leave his head. His brain to mouth filter evaporates, he spreads his legs further, "Fuck," his eyes roll back, because if he looks at her then he'll cum and he wanted to enjoy this for a little while at least, "Who taught you to be this naughty?"

Minho, who wasn't really looking for an answer, but Y/N slips off to tongue at his slit any way, then drools a glob of spit on his shaft and fucks him with her hand, "Yongbokkie," she replied without thought, "He trained my throat really well, now I can take all of you pretty deep." All of them? He can't clarify because she's sucking his balls into her mouth and soaking them with her tongue and his mind fizzles out again. It's too much, all of it, and she does it with a practiced ease of someone who is taking a lot of cocks in her mouth and his mind is reeling with it. She slobbers and drools and sucks until she's licking back up to the tip, taking him down, down, down, until the head nudges at the back of her constricting throat.

Minho, who comes with barely a warning scraping away from his tongue but Y/N doesn't mind. She withdraws just enough so it fills up the pocket of her cheek, squeezing the base, working him through it. He thinks his vision whites out for a second, he's almost positive he might have momentarily blacked out from the intensity of it. It burns from his fingertips up through his chest, spiraling through his whole body like summer storm lightening. It's a lot, his muscles lock up, he thinks if there were any time to understand the universe it would be now after he just flooded her mouth.

Minho, who isn't sure what to expect exactly, but certainly didn't expect her to crawl back up his body, tilt his chin toward her mouth and fix their lips together. He didn't expect her to push his cum into his mouth either, in a kiss so filthy and gross he knows he's going to be touching himself to it for months to come. At least he doesn't taste all that bad, as she makes him share, and he moans pretty pitifully against her tongue.

Minho, who finally opens his eyes after some time and is greeted with a smile, "Good news is, we were quick about it so your food is still warm," she tells him, "Should I feed it to you? I don't mind." And who would have thought that, with his softening cock against his thigh, and his wrists in braces, that Y/N would offer him something like that too? She'd already done too much, hasn't she? More than she'd been requested to, should he really let her feed him? Or was she joking?

Minho, who quickly finds that she isn't joking at all actually. She doesn't wait for him to answer before she's offering him rice and a sliver of egg from his bowl, holding it out toward his mouth. Minho parts his lips, she presses it inside, then gives an even bigger, triumphant smile when he hums at the taste, "It's good, hm? I made it myself."

Minho, who decides that he needs to know more about her, needs to implant himself deeper into her life, needs to ask Yongbok where he found her and if he's willing to share.

[n6ptunova]

skater girlfriend • chris sturniolo

a/n: i’m obsessed with this idea! thank you @rac00ns-are-c00l4 hope you like it🫶

summary: you teach chris how to skate

warnings: some fluff and making out.

“who’s skateboard is this?” you asked chris as soon as he left the meeting. you were waiting for him in the warehouse, wandering around when you came across a skateboard. your boyfriend chris knew you were a skater girl but he never mentioned that he, or any of his brothers skate so you were confused.

“oh, i forgot we had this here. i bought it a while back to get back into skating but-”

“forgot? you were just busting your ass yesterday to learn a simple trick on it,” nick chuckled interrupting him. chris punched his arm mumbling for him to shut up.

“what? chris why didn’t you tell me? we could’ve skated together this whole time,” you pouted.

“that was the plan but…” he trailed off avoiding eye contact with you, he looked embarrassed for some reason. “but what?”

“i kinda wanted to teach myself the basics first bc i wanted to surprise you. also didn’t wanna look like a complete idiot in front of you.” that tugged on your heartstrings oh my god how could someone be this cute. you walked over to him wrapping your arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss.

“that’s sweet, baby. but i don’t care about any of that i just wanna share this with you. come on, i’ll teach you, it’ll be fun!”

later that night, you found an empty street for you two to skate. chris showed you what he knows so far and it was quite literally just moving forward with the board. he didn’t even know how to stop properly he just jumps off. so you decided that’s the first thing you’ll teach him.

chris, being his prideful self, claimed he knows how to come to a stop but then proceeded to do a heel drag.

“nooo, chris, that’ll cause razor tail, dumbass!”

“razor what-”

“it’s gonna damage your skateboard. look you can try to do this instead.”

you showed him a couple easy ways for beginners to stop. “and you can do a power slide,” you said while demonstrating, “but this is when you get more pro.”

“wait but that’s the coolest looking one i wanna do that!” he whined. so of course, you spent the next half hour teaching him how to power slide. if there’s one thing you admired about him is his determination, he fell way too many times but he finally got really close so you decided to move onto the next.

“ok i think you’re ready to learn your first trick, a simple ollie.” you said while doing the trick yourself.

his jaw dropped, he couldn’t believe how cool his girlfriend actually is. you looked so beautiful and graceful while doing the most badass things. he got lost in his thoughts for a second you had to wave and snap your fingers in front of his face to get him to focus.

“sorry babe, i just have such a cool girlfriend don’t i?,” he smugly said raising one eyebrow while pulling you in for a kiss, his hand resting on your neck and the other on the side of your face. you melted into his touch and almost got carried away until you quickly snapped back to reality and pulled away to teach him an ollie before he starts to give up.

you told him how to position his feet and gave him tips to make the trick easier for him but he interrupted you halfway, “that’s impossible.”

“no it’s really easy i promise. it just takes some trial and error.”

he took in a deep breath like he’s preparing for the worst and stood on his board, positioning his feet the way you told him to and bent his knees slightly but just before lifting his feet he stopped, “are you sure i’m not gonna fall?” “you will fall.”

he rolled his eyes, “thanks for the reassurance.” as he attempted the trick he landed straight on his ass, the board rolling away from him.

“owww, can’t you teach me something easier first.” he’s used to falling off his skateboard a lot but not in front of you. he wanted you to think he was cool too. you’d think it’s childish if he wasn’t so adorable.

“chris, this is as easy as it gets. come onnn do you want me to hold your hand princess?” you smirked, teasing him.

“shut up. i can do this.” he stood up and positioned himself on the board again. and before you know it he’s back on the ground with a loud thump.

you give him a knowing smirk and raise your eyebrows reaching your hand out to him. “you sure you don’t need help?” he snaps his head towards you and purses his lips forming a straight line.

“no i got this bro.” he’s so stubborn it made you giggle. after a few more hits to the ground he finally gave in and asked you to help. you held both of his hands and told him what he was doing wrong and before he attempts it again you looked him straight in the eyes, flashing him the sweetest smile, the street lights illuminating your face slightly, “you got this, babe.”

that was all the motivation he needed to attempt this trick again and surely enough, with you keeping him steady holding his hands, he was able to land it.

“I DID IT!!” he screamed and ran around you in a circle before engulfing you in his arms and picking you up feet off the ground spinning around. all that could be heard was both of your laughs and giggles. “yesss baby you did it!!”

“all thanks to the best and hottest teacher i could ever have,” he winked as he put you down and slapped your ass.

your face heated up but you pulled him in by his belt loop catching him off guard and placing a sweet but slow kiss on his lips he practically whined into your mouth, his knees growing weak. only you could have him like this.

he snaked his hands to your hips and gripped them tightly making you gasp, he uses this to slip his tongue into your mouth. you moan and both pull each other impossibly closer, bodies pressed against one another, your hands ruffling through his hair and tugging lightly.

after what felt like eternity (it was only 2 minutes) you pulled away catching your breath. “we should do this more often.” you nodded your head in agreement and he added, “and i guess the skating too.” you smacked his chest jokingly as he chuckled.

the rest of the night you spent just skating back and forth on the street, listening to your favourite music and talking about everything and anything.

when it was time to head home you did a nollie to pick up your board. chris thought it was the coolest thing ever and whined about how he can only pick it up the “normal” way but as he’s showing you, the board flips up and hits him in the crotch making him bend over in pain.

you tried your best to hide your laughter to spare his feelings but it slipped out and even though he shook his head disapprovingly he was smiling like an idiot because your laugh was the most beautiful sound to him.

[filmbyjy]

hi its me, the one who asked u for the exam prep fic w jay.

i want some angst. Its because im going through that rn. HE FELL FIRST BUT SHE FELL HARDER, where jay gives up on their "friendship" because the reader was too busy denying her feelings for him. (u can end it w some fluff if u want heh) Doesnt necessarily havw to be with jay btw any member from enhypen u think fits best for this works.

its alright if u dont want to!!

a/n: oh hi anon☺️ oh my god but this request phew😮‍💨 prepare the tissues bc I feel like i’m gonna make this too angsty. of course, i’m gonna end it off on a good note. my heart can’t handle not getting a happy ending.

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

genre: angst but fluff towards the end

warning: talks about cutting/self-harm and depression (do proceed with caution). mentions of dead parents. I believe I made this too angsty so i am sorry. you do end up with jay though so that’s the good part. i did also change up a bit bc i believe that i have triggered someone with jake like ‘slut-shaming’ you. i am so sorry for that part.

word count: 1.5K words

taglist[perm]: @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @milklix @kar0ki @sugarsunoo

our friendship

10 years of friendship.

down the drain just like that. all because of your selfishness. you couldn’t forget the way jay’s hands trembled as he voices out his feelings.

you felt like the villain for not believing him. denying your own feelings for him. you couldn’t love him. it was impossible, not when jay was for someone else. you couldn’t provide him with the affection he deserves. you were a broken record.

“why did you hurt him?” sunghoon asks.

— placing this in case the read more messes up —

“i didn’t mean to.” you nonchalantly say. the boy sighs.

“i know you didn’t mean to but I know you’re just hurting yourself too.”

“i’m not hurting myself.”

“when was the last time you ate properly?”

you kept quiet. jay usually made sure you ate on time, even if you didn’t have enough money, he made sure to buy you a meal. your life wasn’t the best. your dad did drugs and was absent most of your life. your mom ran off with a foreigner. you were left alone to fend for yourself. no family member to care for you. you matured quicker than most kids because of that.

sunghoon places a carton of milk. your favourite. one that jay usually buys for you.

“take this. you haven’t had lunch.”

“it’s alright. I don’t like this flavour.” you lied.

“that’s a lie. both jake and I have seen you happily drinking it after jay places it on your desk.”

“well, i stopped liking it.”

“after jay left.”

“well, he left for a reason.”

“because he was heartbroken.”

“his mom wanted him to study in america. that’s his real reason.”

“he would’ve stayed for you, (name).”

“i don’t want to hold him back, sunghoon.” you glared at the boy. sunghoon sighs.

“you aren’t holding him back, he just loves you.”

“well, i don’t love him!”

“stop being in denial. you love him just much as he loves you. actually no, you love him way more than he could love you.”

“you’re bullshitting, sunghoon.”

“you’re going to regret saying this (name).”

you left sunghoon. you didn’t want to hear what he was saying because if you stopped denying, you’d hurt yourself. falling in love with your best friend was something scary. falling hard for your best friend was the worst.

it had been years since you graduated from high school. you haven’t heard much from sunghoon, jake or even jay. you had fell out of that friendship ever since the talk. for some odd reason, your old classmates had organised this get together since it had been a while. you were not preparing yourself to meet your friends from high school.

“(name).” heeseung yells out. you gave him a little smile.

“class president.” you say. he chuckles.

“it was for 1 term, (name).”

“you were still our class president.”

“the best one.” jake slings his arm around heeseung. heeseung groans as he attempts to push jake’s arms off.

“it’s been a while, (name).” jake says. his voice laces with venom which wasn’t how he was normally and how he was back then. you nearly wince at how his tone sounded.

you could feel a shiver creep up and you were actually scared of jake.

“uh, yes. i-it’s been a while.” you say. afraid of saying something wrong to get jake angry. honestly, he had a very good reason to get mad at you. you hurt jay. one of the first few people jake cared about.

after you hurt jay, jake had followed jay to America. where they both continued their studies to together. sunghoon visited them and eventually moved there a little to spend time and possibly study there too. eventually, all of them moved back here to continue college since they missed Seoul.

seeing jake in a long while, you realised you missed him and the friendship the both of you had. jake was sort of like a brother to you. he was the closest to you but of course he clearly chose jay. you wanted to walk away but jake grabs on your wrist. heeseung leaves, he could feel the heavy tension.

“I see you’re happy with how your life turned out.”

“what?”

“cut that bullshit. iseul told us. you go to parties and have fun as if you didn’t do anything wrong! it’s disgusting, after you hurt your own best friend’s feelings?”

“jaeyun-”

“don’t call me that. we aren’t friends anymore.”

it fell silent between the both of you, the sound of EDM playing in the background. tears prickling at your eyes. someone comes to pull jake off you. you knew that familiar cologne.

“jake, you shouldn’t fight here. just leave her alone.” jay says.

“she hurt you, jay. how could you just ignore that? she’s been living her life happily while you cried everyday back in America.”

“don’t.” jake shoves jay’s arm and walks away. jay turns to you. he attempts to touch your wrist but you moved back.

“(name).” the way he says your name was perfect. it felt right but you shouldn’t.

you shook your head. tears falling down.

“jay, please.”

his eyes caught sight of slashing marks. they seem pretty recent. he knows you were never one to harm yourself but what exactly happened?

you left the place that day. it was when you started to really close off. you see, after jay left. a whole series of bad luck just dumped onto you. your dad got into car accident and died on impact. your mom was diagnosed with cancer and she died months later. you were left alone having to work hard to earn your own money.

you could feel the burden of living alone just pile over you and you couldn’t take it anymore. everything was overwhelming. too overwhelming. even the feeling of pain wasn’t as immense as the burden you felt. which was why you started self-harming yourself. you loved the feeling of the blade cutting your skin, it was numbing.

“(name), could you please tell me the answer?” the lecturer asks as you were daydreaming. you easily answered and the lecturer hums.

the bell rings soon after and students start pouring out of the class. you tugged onto your hoodie arms, hoping the hide the latest cut. it was itchy and it started bleeding again when you went to pick on it. you simply placed a bandaid over it.

you were packing your things when you felt a tap on your shoulder. you looked up.

“hi.” sunghoon says. you looked away, you couldn’t let him see you like this. you shouldn’t associate yourself with your old friend group. you walked away quick but sunghoon was fast. curse his long legs.

“(name).” he stops you and pulls back your hood. that’s when he realises the bloodshot look you had. he gasps a little.

“what happened to you?”

“didn’t sleep.”

“you look like you got hit by a truck.” he winced.

“maybe I did. what’s your problem?”

“look about what happened that day with jake at the reunion…”

“I forgive him. I deserve it after all.” you walked away but sunghoon tries to catch up to you.

“yeah but that doesn’t account for what he did to you.”

“he didn’t punch me. he just talked to me.”

“(name).”

“please, sunghoon. i don’t want to live in a world with guilt. I’ve already hurt jay enough and I don’t want to hurt jake too.”

“yeah but like I’ve said a long time ago. you’re hurting yourself too. I heard that you rarely ever go out besides actually spending time in school. you’ve gone from a social butterfly to an introvert.”

“what’s wrong with being an introvert.”

“it’s just not who you are (name).”

“so what if I am not who I was. people change sunghoon. i think it’s best if I stayed away from jay. we should have never cross paths.”

“but you like him.”

“yeah, I do. what will happen? hmm? jay doesn’t like me anymore, I know it. he’s probably already dating someone hot. someone that suits him. someone who isn’t me.”

“you are someone that suits me, (name).” jay voices out. you shook your head and turned around to jay.

“I am not right for you. you wouldn’t want an emotionally and mentally broken girl. I already lost my parents, I don’t want to lose anything anymore.”

“your parents are gone?”

“they’re dead. it’s been a year or two. after i graduated from high school…”

“(name).”

“jay, i’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my feelings but it’s too late. i am too broken.”

“you know I wouldn’t care if you’re too broken. I would’ve held you tight and cared for you.”

“jay, I just think we were on different levels. you were someone popular, smart and good looking. i’m just whatever this is.”

“I never cared about the stereotype. I loved you for who you were.”

“love is a strong word to describe how you’re feel about me.” you say. jay holds you close.

“but I do love you.”

“you wouldn’t understand, how much I feel for you.”

“then show me.”

“I can’t. not in public, where sunghoon and jake are staring at us.”

jake rolls his eyes, “go ahead and kiss. this idiot has been rooting for the both of you since high school.” he smacks sunghoon.

“what’s so wrong for hoping they’d get together. I thought they fit each other.” sunghoon glares at jake.

jay pecks your forehead, “we’ll take this slow until you feel better, hmm?”

and he did make you feel better.

[fungifanart]

Hey Fungiiii! Hope you're doing well!

Could I request a fluffy Trey x M!reader story bc where the reader is stressed and burned out because of life, and it's keeping him from being able to do anything creatively (writing is preferred but I'm leaving it completely up to you). Also could it be an established relationship and Trey decides to comfort reader with tea and possibly cuddles?

Fatigue

Characters: Male reader, Yuu!reader, Trey Clover, Grim

CW: Burnout/Writer's block, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 643

Notes: Hey, BIIIIIIIIIITCH! Of course you can! Funny you requested this, since I'm kinda going through some writer's block of my own, but I managed to get this one done, regardless! (Even if it's pretty short)

------------‐----------------------------------------------------------------

Among many other things, Trey Clover is known throughout Heartslabyul for essentially being the entire dorm's dependable big brother. Whether it be guiding his underclassmen through their homework, calming the seemingly bottomless pit of rage that is his housewarden or preparing a banquet's worth of sweets for an unbirthday party the next day, they know that he'll handle it with his usual playful smirk.

So, what could cause said smirk to waver like it's doing right now?

Perhaps the fact that he's spent the whole of exam week rarely seeing hide or hair of his beloved boyfriend, only to find out later that said boyfriend had to fight for his life against a THIRD overblot ON TOP of basically signing his dorm away.

Upon receiving this information, Trey does the unthinkable and drops his responsibilities, packing himself off to Ramshackle, determined to make sure his boyfriend is okay and then give him a piece of his mind for not telling him about it, only to be let in by the dorm's resident ghosts rather than the Prefect himself, causing his anger to be accompanied by growing concern.

Finally reaching the Prefect’s room, Trey opens the door to reveal his boyfriend slumped over on his desk in front of a typewriter, his head on its side facing away from the door.

Panicking, Trey rushes to his boyfriend's side, “Y/n! Are you okay?!” He asks while shaking his lover, who only turns his head around to face him.

“I'm going insane, my love.” The Prefect says in a monotone voice.

“What do you mean??” Trey asks while sitting the other man up in his chair, his anger temporarily on the shelf.

“It’s just so unfair! I didn't have any time to write during exam week and then suddenly I had to worry about not losing my entire dorm to some wannabe mob boss and then not getting shish-kabobed when the same guy threw a temper tantrum!” The Prefect rants while making wild hand gestures, “I finally found time to write and thought I could use my experiences as inspiration, but when I think about what happened, my hands start shaking and my brain can barely string one sentence together!”

The Prefect’s rant slows down as he turns and buries his face in Trey's chest, “And the worst part of it all is that I've barely been able to see you the entire time! I-I really missed you, y'know?” He says with a small sniffle that causes Trey's anger to melt away.

Pulling the Prefect out of his chair and onto the bed, Trey sits next to him and places a soft, but passionate kiss on his lips, “I missed you too, Y/n. I missed you a lot.” He says after pulling away.

Trey really can't stay mad at him, can he?

However, seeing the Prefect eyeing his typewriter again, Trey quickly pulls him into another hug and then onto their backs on the bed, “I think we've both earned a little rest, don't you?”

The Prefect opens his mouth to protest when Grim, who has been curled up near the back of the bed until now, pipes up, “Myrrgh…please…can't take the sound of crumpling paper anymore…” He groans before putting his head back down.

Trey raises his own head to look at the trash can next to the desk, sees that it's overflowing with balled-up pieces of paper and is about to give his boyfriend a knowing smirk when he looks back to see said boyfriend already fast asleep, the fatigue of everything he's gone through having finally caught up with him.

Trey's smirk is replaced with a loving smile as he tucks himself and the Prefect under the covers, “Sleep well, Y/n.” He says while placing a small kiss on his forehead before getting comfortable and closing his eyes as well.

[loserdiaz]

inspiration saturday! 💌🎸

tagged by @prince-buck-diaz @panbuckley @monsterrae1 and @honestlydarkprincess 💗 thanks lovelies

here's a snippet and a moodboard for my exes to lovers musician buck au (i can't remember if i shared this already bc it's been months but im pretty sure i haven't)

Buck and Eddie broke up on a Tuesday night, because of course they did. 

Buck had been on tour for six months at the time and turns out long distance relationships are way harder than they ever gave them credit for— not to mention the constant scrutiny and rumors they had to deal with. 

Honestly, Buck doesn't blame Eddie at all for finishing things off. Eddie was always too good to be true anyway, and he deserves better than whatever Buck could ever offer. Eddie deserves happiness and he deserves being worshiped and adored… and he deserves peace. Something Buck could never give him, no matter how much he wants to. 

Eddie called him after his last concert in London— it had been almost midnight for Buck but Eddie was just getting out of a shift and the sun was hitting his face in just the right way, making his skin look golden and tanned and so tempting. 

But Buck had immediately known something was wrong by the way Eddie's shoulders had been tense and his lips had been pursed in a fine line. 

"I can't do this anymore." Eddie had said and the wind had been knocked out of Buck in the worst way possible. "I'm sorry."

Eddie's voice had sounded controlled and the man had been avoiding eye contact like the plague. Buck had known right then and there it was over. 

Admittedly, the break up has been hard and he's been heartbroken since that video call— they couldn't even do it face to face, for God's sake— and he's been spiraling more than ever. 

Over a decade as a musician, doing this until he could perform an entire concert with his eyes closed, and he’d never once been as homesick as he was after that call. He'd never been nervous before a performance, but his stomach roiled now ominously. He’d been able to distract himself from the devastating blow, the memory of warm brown eyes and soft skin and a fond smile, for the last two days, pushing the tour crew and himself hard, pouring all of himself over his lyrics, writing heartbreaking songs after heart breaking songs, even booking some studio hours in whatever city he was at the time. If he stopped moving or thinking, there Eddie was, and Jesus, Buck'd fucking lost him. 

His jugular ached from supporting his heart. That’s where it sat after the breakup, every minute of the day; having Eddie in his life had been so painfully sweet. So much better than Buck knew life could be.

And it ended. 

Of course it did.

It always ends, Buck thinks bitterly. 

The fans and the magazines and gossip sites have been speculating about the reason like crazy for months, even from way before Eddie actually broke up with him. (Buck can't help but to resent them a little bit for that.) but nothing prepared him for this.

tagging: @buddierights @alyxmastershipper @prettyboybuckley @bigfootsmom @starlingbite @hippolotamus @the-likesofus @spotsandsocks @elvensorceress @ebdaydreamer @bekkachaos @messyhairdiaz @barbiediaz @dijkstraspath @911onabc @cowboy-buddie @cowboy-buck @spaceprincessem @transbuck @transboybuckley @thewolvesof1998 @diazblunt and whoever else wants to do it <33