#i promise i wouldn’t miss out most important bits for no reason

[aimseytv]

change of plan

third part of night in the woods will be today at 7pm GMT and we will (maybe) finishing it!

then.. i’ll do a late night BACK TO ORIGINS stream tomorrow and continue the little glass roof :D

[stayconnecteed]

🪐˓⠀˚⠀types of kisses with skz⠀@⠀ot8 imagines.

warnings: (slightly spoilers) mention of overworking in bangchan's. minho's type of kiss is french kiss (it's self explanatory: suggestive), and also mentions of blood and wounds, nothing too bad, just some scratches. changbin's soft hours, insecure reader, lonely time but fluff everywhere. brief mention of hyunjin's hiatus and covid on his part. nothing to say about han and felix, just fluff. mentions of menstruation on seungmin's, and a lot of insecurities too. a little bit of drama on i.n's, he ignores the reader but it turns out well. let me know if i miss something.

( hii! have a wonderful sunday ♡ )

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ CHAN, FOREHEAD KISS ❜

You had spent the whole afternoon locked up at your studio, focused on finishing the last assignment that was due before the end of the semester, avoiding the slight breaks you had promised you would made and returning immediately to collect information and write the final text. You knew the teacher was quite strict, and with your need to make sure your final score in the subject was high enough, you had spent the last days perfecting up even the last detail of the project. It wasn’t the first time you experienced this kind of situation, and since you moved with your boyfriend a few months ago he was now aware of your habits while studying, so after a lot of mistakes and excuses you managed to communicate with each other and get to a dynamic that would allow you to continue with some of your routines without Chris suffering from concern. The truth was that when you entered that state of concentration, little affected you what happened around as long as you were able to fulfill what you had proposed to do that day, and your boyfriend was worried that those habits would end up becoming hurtful for you in some way.

That particular afternoon you couldn’t help but notice Chris’ restlessness as your fingers pressed, fast, the keys of your laptop. Sometimes he had even made you crack a faint smile for his little antics, like filling your cup of coffee when he saw that there was nothing left or peeking through the door of your studio often to see how you were going. It made you feel a little guilty because you knew it was his free day and what he most wanted was to spend it with you, even it was only enjoying the company of the other cuddling in the couch. But you couldn’t allow yourself to put those moments forward when there was a project of such importance that you had to finish, no matter how much you wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend.

And you really wanted. That was your biggest motivation. It was the only reason why when all your work was finally rewarded and you downloaded the finished document, sending it to your teacher’s email, you exhaled a trembling breath and stretched on the chair, noticing how the muscles of your back relaxed after hours tensing over the laptop screen. You turned off the device and closed the studio door carefully not to make noise, deciding that you wouldn’t go back into that room for the rest of the week. You went to the living room with an euphoric smile on your lips, wishing to refuge in your boyfriend’s arms, but you stopped when you saw Chris laying down on the couch with his phone pulled over his chest, and his eyes closed, completely asleep.

You stood against the frame of the door, watching him. It was rare to be able to come across him at such moments of absolute peace and rest, since when you woke up in the morning he was already up and at night you fell asleep before him. You admired him in silence for a few minutes, letting your eyes glim over his relaxed factions, his partially open lips, and the pale freckles barely noticeable on his cheeks. You looked at the time and realized it was quite late, so you left Chris resting in the couch, slowly closed the door and went to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.

You couldn’t help but hum the last song you had heard your boyfriend work on as you pulled out the ingredients from the cupboard, willing to make jjajangmyeon as quickly as possible, knowing it was one of his favorite meals. You focused on the stoves, selecting the best pieces of bacon for Chris and spliting the food into two bowls. Once placed in the bowl you got the chopsticks after searching a little in the cutlery drawer, and you put two glasses with water. You made the mental note of buying some kind of storage method to separate knives, spoons, and forks, and be able to have the damned drawer somewhat neater, and you went back to the living room sliding your socks on the floor to avoid making any noise. You opened the door carefully and smiled as you listened to Chris’s slight snoring, feeling guilty when you left the bowls on the table in front of the couch, and sat next to him, with the mission of waking him up. You took his phone, keeping it safe next to the tray, and put one of your hands on his chest, feeling the calm beats of his heart.

You laid down slightly on him, caressing his cheek, calling him with a soft voice. “Channie…,” you whispered, sliding your fingertips along his cheekbones, delineating the shapes of his face, “Baby, wake up, it’s time to eat something…”

Chris began to open his eyes lazily, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his factions contract in a gesture of confusion, just as if you just had asked him to solve a very difficult math problem.

“YN? Did I fall asleep?” He asked, sliding his arms over your back and wrapping you in a hug. You raised your caresses up to his chaotic curls and mumbled a little assent noise, letting the warm atmosphere you two where wrapped in cover you completely. You loved those moments with him. They were the perfect reward for so many hours of work. And you knew he thought the same. “What time is it? I was going to prepare something for you so that you could take a break and we have some dinner together.”

“Don’t worry, love,” you whispered back, noticing how he leaned to your touch, resting his head on your hand, and enjoying your attention, “I delivered the essay a while ago, and I have an entire week for you before I start studying the final exams. The busy afternoons have ended, at least for a few days.”

His gaze lightened, and he broke into a genuine smile that caused you to stir inside. “I’m very proud of you, baby, you are going to have a very high grade on that test.” You changed posture, straddling Chris’ hips, hugging him, and rested your cheek over his chest, taking advantage of his body heat like some kind of stove. “What do you think, should we… plan something? To celebrate? You and I on a little trip, alone, as soon as my free days coincide with your holidays?”

You raised your head, delighted. “Seriously?”

“Of course. I want to have you all for myself,” he said, suppressing a laugh, and increasing his grip on you, still with his arms around you.

You made him squirm with tickles, “I also want you all for myself, as long as we can,” you said, leaning back on his chest. “Oh, the jjajangmyeon is cooling, we should eat it now.”

Chris closed his eyes and released a sigh, smiling. “You did jjajangmyeon? After all the afternoon working? God, I don’t deserve you.”

You let out a laugh that made your chest vibrate with his, and you rested your forehead on his, “You deserve this and more, Channie. You were sleeping, it was the least I could do after ruining your free day”

“You could never ruin anything,” he protested, running his fingers through your hair almost without realizing, just because he knew it calmed you as much as it did to him. “Can we stay like this for a while?” Chris asked, waiting for your answer. As soon as he felt you nod against his chest, he let his body relax, kissing your forehead softly, and he couldn’t help but think that he wanted to stay like that forever.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ MINHO, FRENCH KISS ❜

Minho was tired. It was barely nine o'clock at night, but he had had to get up early to record a song that Han had proposed him to sing at the company, and the morning kept him busy with his MC job. If he had time to eat it was because he let himself be kidnapped by Felix with the excuse that he wanted to perfect an old choreography, but with the imminent concerts he ended up rehearsing for hours steps that he knew without the necessary practice wouldn't come out as clean as he wished. When the company car dropped him off in front of your apartment, it took him a lifetime to get out and walk the few meters of sidewalk, to reach up and force the key in the lock, and even to press the button for your floor in the elevator. But he was rewarded when he opened the door and was greeted by that atmosphere he so adored and was beginning to call home: the soft sounds of something frying in the pan, light notes of your favorite perfume that he inhaled as he hung his coat next to yours, and your voice humming softly from the kitchen. He let out a sigh, managing a faint smile, and set his backpack down in the entryway, announcing that he had just arrived.

He decided to take a shower first to make some time while you finished dinner, and couldn't help but follow the rhythm of the song you were crooning, walking down the hallway to your room and choosing some of the clothes you always had ready in your closet for these occasions. If his usual residence was the dorm he shared with Felix, I.N and Seungmin, in his spare time he divided his time between his parents' home, where his cats lived, and your apartment. Even so, he was usually able to sneak away for the occasional night to sleep next to you, and enjoy your company. He always gave you advance notice, but every once in a while you woke up with your boyfriend's cheek pressed against your belly, and his arms around your waist, protesting when you pretended to get up and muttering something along the lines that he didn't have a schedule in the morning. Those days you took advantage of your comfortable work from home and decided to give up, snuggling closer to Minho, and enjoying each other for hours talking about nonsense. Then he would take over your kitchen and prepare the latest recipe that had caught his eye while you rambled on about ideas you had for your future projects, giving him back hugs from time to time and kissing his shoulder blades with the greatest delicacy in the world.

As he washed his hair he couldn't help but miss the way you stroked it when you cuddled, an activity you practiced very often because it always relaxed him when he had had a bad day. He decided to ask you to do that when, after dinner, as he knew was going to happen, you begged him to watch at least one episode of that series you had started last week. It was in English, and although he was sure you would put the audio in Korean if he asked, he was content to program the subtitles in his language while you finished the dishes. He always fell asleep anyway. It's not that he wasn't interested, but your presence soothed him inside, and he couldn't help but enter a mental space of total relaxation when he rested his head on your lap at that time of night.

When he got out of the shower, he put the towel over his head, still without the energy to pull his arms up high enough to remove the moisture from his hair, and headed to your room to get dressed with the clothes he had left on your bed. The clothes felt extremely soft and gentle against his skin, and he let out the closest thing to a purr, which made him smile with his eyes closed. His clothes smelled like you, and he understood, with a pleasant warmth settling in his chest, why you were always asking him for hoodies and t-shirts: it was like taking you with him. Not just you, but everything you represented: warmth, joy, comfort. His steps were quiet and slow as he walked towards the kitchen, still absorbed in his thoughts. In was then that he registered the smell of japchae, your signature dish, which you made when you had had a good day, even if you did it unconsciously. Minho thought it was adorable, and he didn't plan to unveil your method of celebration, because he always felt better to see you so happy, and besides he was used to cooking it himself ーhe wasn't going to complain about enjoying a meal that he didn't prepare and that also came out so delicious.

Minho collapsed into one of the comfortable, cushioned chairs you had purchased relatively recently in an attempt to redecorate your apartment. He let out a sigh and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them, with no energy to do anything but watch you dancing around the kitchen getting everything ready to serve dinner. Your boyfriend was an observant person by nature, and usually preferred to stay out of the way so he could get the full picture of any situation he was involved in. With his groupmates and loved ones he tended to loosen up more, and would bring out his bubbly, fun-loving personality. But at times like this, he was very grateful to have you in his life. With you he could spend hours laughing nonstop at a joke that wasn't even that funny, but you ended up fooling around so much that your eyes would sparkle with tears. And he would laugh with you because seeing you smile so genuinely made his heart fuzzy.

When he saw you approaching the cupboard to get the bowls, he rushed to help you, but you dropped them when you noticed the presence of someone at your back, with your pulse racing.

"MINHO!" you exclaimed, almost breathless, startled.

He was almost as surprised as you were, until he tucked a lock of hair that had come loose from your bun behind your ear and realized that all this time you had been listening to music with your airpods, oblivious to the fact that he had come home.

"How long have you been here?" you asked, after giving him a playful punch on the arm.

Minho gestured for you not to move as he went to grab a broom and move the pieces of broken porcelain away from your feet, and that's when you noticed you had a few cuts on your bare skin.

"Enough time to give me a good shower" he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, finding your clumsiness adorable. You both stood in silence, him picking up the mess you'd left on the floor, and you disconnecting your airpods. Once you saw that he had finished, you tried to grab another two bowls to divide the japchae you had left on the unlit stoves, but Minho took you in his arms, ignoring the silent protests of his exhausted muscles, and carried you over his shoulder, letting out a stifled chuckle at your surprised yelp. "I'll take care of the rest of dinner," he announced, ignoring your demands to let you be. Once he had gently set you down on the couch, you frowned at him in an adorable attempt to look angry.

"You know I didn't drop the bowls on purpose, don't you?" you told him, slipping irony into your words. "I think I'll be able to dish up the food."

"I don't think so," he replied, a satisfied smile plastered on his lips, "you're hurt."

Your frown deepened as you looked down at your feet and realized that as the bowls smashed against the floor, some pieces had scratched your skin, and you now had fine bloody lines on your skin. There weren't many, and you knew they wouldn't sting if you let them heal, but it was also clear to you that Minho and his eternal concern for you weren't going to let you get away with it. So you just sighed as he got up to get the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom.

He handled you carefully on his return, leaving a clean towel, the band-aids and a bottle of water on the side table, and resting your legs in his lap. His touch was gentle as he stroked your feet to check how much pain you were feeling, and although you had assumed the scratches were nothing, you did gasp when he put pressure on them. You rested your head on his shoulder and clung to his arm as he cleaned the cuts, and you closed your eyes tightly, hissing. Once he had placed a couple of band-aids over the deeper wounds, he stroked your cheek.

"Did you cry?"

"Oh, hush."

Minho managed an almost imperceptible smile, and moved his shoulder just enough for you to pull away from him.

"Not a word." you warned him.

"I don't know what you're talking about" he replied, looking away, "I was just going to tell you what happened today at dance practice..."

You nodded, as he spoke, both of you leaning back on the couch, and let his voice wash over you. You obviously had a good time when he talked to you about what he had done in his day, especially since most of the time you didn't even have time to eat together, so you took full advantage of the dinners, and the cuddle sessions in front of the TV, and the conversations you had snuggled under the covers. But there were times when you would delight in just looking at him. Watching his eyes sparkle as he talked about those boys who meant so much to him, and the new choreographies he planned for the songs composed by 3racha, or the videos his mother sent him of his cats. And not only that, but to have the freedom to look at him, openly, and absorb all the details of his face, which seemed so beautiful to you.

Without warning, you rested one of your hands on his cheek and brought his face to you, connecting your lips in a kiss. Minho let out a surprised squeak, but immediately followed through, moving his mouth along with yours, letting his hand wander from your legs over his lap to your hip. The position was slightly uncomfortable, but it didn't stop you from enjoying each other's warmth, in a slow, soft make-out session. You felt yourself melt against him as he gave your lower lip a little nibble which made you gasp, and he took the opportunity to make the kiss messier by slipping his tongue in, letting it dance next to yours, swirling around to the rhythm of your panting breaths. And just when you thought you'd run out of air, Minho pulled away from you just a few inches, gazing adoringly at you.

"What was that?" he asked, still stunned by your sudden actions.

"I don't know, I just wanted to kiss you" you told him, nuzzling back into his chest. He felt his ears turn slightly red, and was thankful you couldn't see it. "I love you, Min. Keep telling me what Hyunjin did next" you asked him. And of course, he was never able to deny you anything, so he continued with the anecdote, a lovesick smile plastered on his face.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ CHANGBIN, HAND KISS ❜

You had never been a morning person. If you had to get up early it was because of your job, and you could only face the day after a good cup of coffee circulating through your system. And on weekends you didn't get up until almost lunchtime, taking advantage of every last bit of rest you could get in bed. But that aversion to mornings changed when, after more than half a year of relationship, your boyfriend asked you to move in with him. Since then, just the thought of knowing that as soon as you opened your eyes you would be able to enjoy Changbin's beautiful features, every day was a day you started in a good mood.

That didn't stop the nights from being bad. That Friday in particular you had not been able to join the get-together that your friends had organized at that new club where they happened to play your favorite songs, and not only were you angry with your boss for having you working until late in overtime that you were not going to get paid for, but also your boyfriend was going to get home very late because he had a very busy recording schedule that night. So everything seemed to get worse when, after being the last one at the office to close, you missed the bus. And then you had to endure the fifteen-minute subway ride in rush hour, surrounded by people until anxiety made you get off at a stop that wasn't even yours. Walking back to your apartment calmed you down a bit, but your boots were killing your feet and you couldn't wait to get home to take them off.

Lucky you have an elevator, you think. And you let your tote bag slide down your shoulder until it drops to the floor, hurrying to slide the zippers of your new platform boots and let out a sigh of relief when you stop feeling the pressure on your heels. For sure Changbin is going to tease you for not listening to him when he told you to wear them around the home a bit to get your foot used to them, and also because he got mad at you (jokingly, of course) for buying footwear that made you taller than him. But he's not going to be around to greet you when you get home, so you pick up your boots and tote bag from the floor once the elevator reaches your floor, and you manage to get inside your home, leaning your back against the closed door and letting yourself drop to the floor, massaging your feet with your eyes closed.

You knew you were on the verge of a breakdown. You hated being alone in general, but after a day like the one you'd had, all you needed was a hug and words of reassurance, someone to tell you that everything was okay, and that even if it wasn't, you'd eventually get to that point. But the apartment was dark, and you felt an void in your chest. You had left the mental breakdowns phase when your college days were over, but every once in a while you would have those moments when you would start crying about the situation that made you explode and end up sobbing, almost unable to breathe, for everything you blamed yourself for in your life, and for every flaw that your mirror reflected. And it usually happened when you were alone.

You considered joining your friends, who must have been drunk by now, but even that made you too lazy. So you remembered what Changbin had recommended you to do when he first saw you this bad, and you prepared a bath. You poured in your favorite salts and dived in as deep as you wanted, knowing that you were in no hurry. When you got out you were more relaxed, and after doing your skincare and drying your hair well, you sought shelter under the covers of your shared bed. You soaked in the warmth and softness, and cried as you wished you could live in that moment forever, with no sunrises, no responsibilities, no negative thoughts about yourself. Just you, with a calm mind, those sheets that still smelled of Changbin, and the chance to start from scratch again and again.

But, like every new day, morning came, although this time as soon as you woke up you wanted to go back to sleep. You felt like your head was going to explode, and the crack of light coming through the blinds bothered you to no end. You sighed, knowing that hiding under the sheets was not going to do any good, and you made the attempt to get up, oblivious to the person sleeping next to you. As soon as you sat up, you saw yourself falling back onto the bed, and you let out an involuntary laugh. Changbin had you trapped in his arms and, even in your sleep, he kept you close to him, as if he was afraid that you would leave him at any moment.

You let him be, completely forgetting the light and your headache, and turned to face him, appreciating the delicacy of his skin, and how good it felt in contact with yours. You buried your face in the crook of your boyfriend's neck, enjoying the moment, knowing that you were feeding off these instants to survive when you were at your worst. You heard Changbin clearing his throat, probably with a slightly tired voice from the previous night's schedule, and waited for him to say something.

"Good morning, princess.”

You closed your eyes as you listened to his husky tone, and noticed how he loosened his arms around you a little when he realized how tightly he was holding you.

"Good morning, handsome," you said to him, your lips brushing against his collarbone while you spoke. "Were you very late last night?"

"I think it was like two in the morning or something," he answered you, still without opening his eyes.

"I got off work at midnight" you told him, shifting your posture slightly, resting your head on your hand so you could watch him.

"If you take a picture it lasts longer" he warned you, before opening his eyes and cracking a grin that made your heart skip a beat.

"You know that if you tell me I'll do it."

"I'm not willing to let you go get the phone, you're better off here."

And silence fell between you again. You had never felt as at peace as you did whenever you had Changbin around. And you knew he felt the same way you did, because he never tired of telling you that every time you doubted you were worthy of someone's love. Or whenever he got the chance, in general. You were perfectly capable of spending the whole morning like that, entangled in your bed, taking advantage of the quietness that you had on Saturdays when he had nothing to do. The rest of the week was chaos, with your endless hours of work and his practices and hours locked in the studio with Bangchan and Han. You had an even harder time in the weeks leading up to the comebacks, and remembering that just made you replay the night before on your head, and how you had felt when you got home.

"You're frowning," your boyfriend commented to you. "Do you want to talk about yesterday?"

You opened your eyes, surprised. Changbin had been tracing your features with his gaze.

"Y-yesterday?"

"When I came back, I noticed you'd used the bathtub and forgot to tidy up the bathroom. That only happens when you're in a sad mood. And your eyes are puffy."

Instead of letting shame eat you away, you felt your heart swell at your boyfriend's words. You weren't going to let your stupid intrusive thoughts spoil such a nice thing as the moment Changbin had just had with you: he knew you well enough to notice such things, he loved you, and he chose to stick with you every day because of it. Still, you felt guilty for not cleaning the bathroom, so you whispered a weak "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, my love," he told you, "you know I love doing things for you. If it were up to me, my baby wouldn't lift a finger, especially if you have me to do it for you."

You let him hold you again, resting your head on his chest, and sighed.

"Are you okay?"

You took his hand and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on the back of it before laying it back on your belly, and replied, looking up at him with a smile and eyes sparkling with love:

"Now I am."

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ HYUNJIN, FLYING KISS ❜

Your mother used to talk about how much you and Hyunjin fooled around when you were little. If someone had to tell an anecdote in which either of you were involved, it was certain that at least 70% of them would mention the other. You were two sides of the same coin, and you didn't know a world where the other wasn't at least a phone call away. When he had a hard time, you had a hard time; and when you cried, he cried with you. You had been together from the beginning, and many times you had sworn to be together until the end. And that's why nobody could explain why it had taken you so long to realize how much in love you were.

You had lived through the whole process of Hyunjin becoming an idol, and he had been by your side even when his busy schedule didn't allow him just so he could comfort you when your father passed away, and when that boy had broken your heart in high school. The members of Stray Kids had learned early on to love you as one of their own, and they still remembered how Hyunjin had threatened to never speak to them again if they were unkind to you or hurt you in any way. You were extremely protective of the other one, and if people gave you a choice between anyone and each other, you were very clear that you would choose each other a thousand times over. You had been the one who had spent a month's salary on blank canvases and the most varied set of brushes and colors possible when Hyunjin had developed an interest in art, and he had been the one who had gotten VIP tickets as soon as your favorite singer had announced concert dates in Seoul.

And as obsessed as you were with each other, it had taken you years and the passage of covid through your lives to realize how much the absence of each other in your lives was hurting you. You had called him one day in the a.m. when he was practicing a dance for the Korean program his group was going to perform in, and you had confessed how in love you were with him. And he had laughed, understanding the idiots you had been, and reciprocated your feelings after running out of the company to your apartment. That night you kissed for the first time, and cuddled together in your bed, feeling complete, because you had finally understood what was missing.

After that night, Hyunjin practically lived at your dorm. When the bullying scandal was announced, he spent part of his hiatus with you and part with his parents. And you took a leave of absence from your job for the first few weeks so that he wouldn't be left alone even once. Every time you had the house to yourself and noticed the changes he had made in your absence, you smiled at the new mural on the living room wall, or the boxes the delivery man had left in the entryway that were probably decorations for your room or matching clothes, even though you had insisted you would rather steal his than dress the same. Your relationship didn't change at all since the confession. You still laughed the same, cried the same and argued the same.

That morning, like most mornings, you had struggled to wake him up. You had stayed up late the night before, finishing preparations for a presentation you were going to be giving at work, and you were very nervous. Hyunjin had insisted on staying with you, changing playlists when the songs didn't convince him and working on a track Bangchan had sent him to write lyrics to. You knew the next morning was going to be difficult, but you didn't mind because his mere presence relaxed you and helped you concentrate on the Power Point. Right now his presence (or rather, his absence) was getting on your nerves, because you were making breakfast and there was no sign of your boyfriend. You were both running late.

"HYUNJIN!" you exclaimed, pouring coffee into two cups.

Then he decided to come into the kitchen, still half asleep, and in his pajamas. When he leaned down to kiss you good morning, you refused.

"What's wrong?"

"I warned you twenty minutes ago," you told him, finishing your toast and wrapping his, because you knew he wasn't going to have time to eat it at home. "Now you're not going to have time to do anything but to get dressed, we were supposed to be out the door five minutes ago!"

"Honey, I told you, the boys already know I'm late, so you don't..."

"I know that, baby," you replied, interrupting him in the same tone but in an ironic way, with your index finger under his chin so he could see the way you were looking at him, "but I don't know if you remember that you asked me to drive you today specifically and that I have a presentation first thing in the morning."

"Oh, shit."

"Yep, oh, shit."

You repressed a smile as you watched him rush out of the kitchen to grab the first sporty outfit he saw in your closet and you picked up his thermos to pour his coffee in there and clean the mug you'd just used. You left his breakfast ready on the table once you drank your coffee, and ran to put your laptop in your bag, checking that you had everything ready. He was still locked in the bathroom for quite a while and by the time you left the house, you had already called one of your coworkers ーwho happened to also be one of your best friendsー to get you a few minutes if anyone was asking for you.

You opened the front door and almost missed Hyunjin running ahead of you, hurrying down the stairs two at a time towards the garage. You sighed, grabbing the breakfast you had prepared for him knowing he would forget, and went down after him, trying to match the speed of his very long legs. You put the car in motion in record time and drove through the streets of Seoul, respecting the safety limits, looking at the clock every time a red light stopped your race, until you arrived in front of the company where Hyunjin worked and quickly pulled into the parking lot. Your boyfriend opened the car door while it was still in gear and jumped out, breakfast in one hand and his bag in the other.

"Thanks for breakfast! I love you!" he exclaimed, walking away from the car.

"Baby! What about my goodbye kiss?"

Hyunjin's eyes formed two crescent moons as he smiled, and he slung his bag at full speed, to leave his hand free so he could blow a kiss at you. You pretended to catch it before leaving the parking lot, stuffing it in the pocket your blazer had on your chest and shouting "I love you too!" back.

Years later, your mother would still confirm to anyone who asked that you and Hyunjin were chaos whenever you were together, but since you were two dorks in love, nobody cared.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ JISUNG, NECK KISS ❜

You had told Han that you were going to be late, and not to wait up for you, although you knew he wouldn't listen. That night was a night of celebration, and even though you had to work the next day, it was worth it. Your best friend had gotten an amazing job offer in the USA a few years ago and since she had moved there, you saw her a lot less than you would like to. You had made some of your vacation days coincide with your boyfriend's American tour and the two of you had gone together to his band's concert after spending the whole day visiting the city. She had shown you her favorite places, and also those places she knew you would love.

This time she had traveled all the way to Seoul, the first time you had seen each other since her promotion had been announced, and although it was a business trip, she had set aside an entire afternoon for you. The plan was simple, and quite improvised. First you had eaten together at a very good restaurant that Changbin had recommended, and then you caught up at a coffee shop near your work that you frequented on your breaks. It was a very special place for you because you had worked there for a couple of years while studying at the university, and it was also where you had met Jisung.

You told your friend how he had walked in with Hyunjin and Seungmin and hadn't opened his mouth not even once while they were placing orders. At that time they had debuted less than a year ago, and you were more of a fan of girl kpop groups anyway, so you had no idea who they were. As you were heading towards their table with the three coffees, you heard how Jisung and Hyunjin were arguing, though you didn't know what about. What you didn't expect was that Jisung would suddenly get up at the same moment you picked up his cup and set it down in front of him. Two seconds later you both had your shirts soaked in coffee, the tray was on the floor and there was a mess of shattered glass at your feet, while he was apologizing. You heard Hyunjin say something along the lines of "Since you spilled coffee on her you could finally ask for her number, you have nothing left to lose", and Jisung turned to give him a murderous glare before apologizing one last time and practically running away. Seungmin went after him after letting out a tired sigh, and left it to Hyunjin to pay for the damage.

You remembered the conversation perfectly. The idol had followed you around the establishment asking you how much the broken glasses were worth while you were looking for what you needed to clean up the mess. You had made a dismissive gesture with your hand and told him that it was okay, that it was your fault. However, when he gave you the same order but for takeaway, you couldn't help but ask which of the three was for Jisung. Instead of putting his name on the cup, as you had done with the other two, you managed to write 'for the cute guy I spilled coffee on. next one's on me' and your number. Hyunjin's eyes sparkled when he saw it and asked you if you wanted him to record his reaction to reading it, because you were going to make his day. You let out a laugh, and six dates later you were together.

After a couple of treats at the mall and a cab ride full of laughter, it was time to say goodbye to your friend. You looked at the time on your phone as you walked up the stairs and smiled when you realized that your boyfriend had sent you a couple of messages throughout the afternoon asking how everything was going. You opened the door as slowly as possible to avoid making noise in case he was already sleeping. You left your bag and coat in the hall closet, halfway ditching your shoes and leaving the bags on the kitchen table. On your way to the living room, you saw the TV still on with the words "game over" flashing on the screen and Jisung slumped on the couch with the console controller on his chest. As usual, he had insisted on waiting up for you. And as usual, he had fallen completely asleep.

You turned off the TV and approached him, running your fingers through his hair, combing his bangs in soft caresses, enjoying seeing his features so relaxed, and the little pout on his lips that filled you with tenderness. You decided to continue with your nightly routine when you noticed that he was already in his pajamas, so he wouldn't have to fully wake up on the way from the couch to the bed.

You stepped into the shower to relax after such a busy day and smiled with your eyes closed as you felt the warm water running down your back. You didn't usually take long in the bathroom unless you had to wash your hair, but shopping always made you very tired and even though the company was to your liking, as you left the mall you couldn't wait to get home to curl up in your boyfriend's arms and rest.

Within two minutes of getting out of the shower, as you were taking out your skincare products, wrapped in a towel and with a few droplets of water still on your shoulders, the bathroom door opened and Jisung appeared with narrowed eyes. Without a word he stood behind you as you watched him through the mirror and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you in a back hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Hey, baby" you called to him, your voice soft.

He nodded his head slightly, not fully awakening, but giving you to understand that he was listening to you.

"How about you wait for me in bed? I'll be done in a minute."

You felt him deny as you began to apply the products to your face, and paused when you heard an unintelligible mumbling.

"What was that, bubs? I didn't hear right" you asked him.

"I missed you today" he repeated, opening his eyes slightly and making eye contact with you through the mirror. "How did it go?"

"I missed you a lot too" you replied, your hands busy with creams and toners as you spoke. "We were talking about you, actually. We went to the coffee shop where I worked" You cracked a smile as you watched his cheeks turn a reddish shade, knowing what you were going to say next, "Do you remember the day we met?"

You heard a noise of protest while you washed your hands and how he tightened his grip on your waist, reluctant to let you go now that you had brought up a memory he considered as shameful as it was lovely.

"I almost killed Hyunjin that day," he whispered, voice somewhat hoarse from having been asleep. "Until Changbin told me to calm down and I read what the coffee cup said, I swear it nearly killed him for exposing myself like that in front of you." You put both hands over your boyfriend's on your belly and smiled when he continued with the sentence he always said, "Luckily the pretty girl at the coffee shop found me cute enough to date me."

"And here we are" you told him, closing your eyes at his warmth and the touch of his lips against your neck, as light as a feather, in an affectionate gesture that was part of your softer moments.

"And here we are" he repeated, uttering it so close to your throat that it felt like an echo of your own words. And I wouldn't trade it for the world, you thought as he guided you to your bed to snuggle together and sleep entangled, just like every night.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ FELIX, NOSE RUB / KISS ❜

That night you had gone to bed a little late. Not that it had been a special day or anything like that, but when you had entered the lobby of the company your boyfriend worked for with the intention of finishing a couple of documents while you were waiting for him, Minho was leaning against one of the walls with his phone. As soon as he looked up from the screen, he approached you with a smile and the intention of asking you how you had been. Of all Felix's group members, Minho was probably the one you got along with the best. At the beginning of your relationship with your boyfriend, when you had only gone on three or four dates, he had been the first Stray Kids member you had met. After spending the afternoon together, you had accompanied Felix to his apartment and Minho had caught you making out in front of the door. Instead of embarrassing Felix or giving you a hard time, he had smiled and invited you in to enjoy some pudding while you introduced yourself.

Hyunjin had always protested and defended that if Minho had adopted you as his protégée was because it was clear that Felix was very much in love with you, and because you shared with your boyfriend the sunshine privileges he had with the whole group. It wasn't until much later that you discovered, thanks to a Twitter thread, that the fact that Minho had shared a pudding with you meant that you were very important to him. And since you didn't understand why, as you barely knew each other, the next day you bought a box of puddings of the same brand he had given you and asked Felix to give it to him on your behalf. Of course, that gesture only enhanced Minho's image of you. Since then you had developed a beautiful friendship of which both you and your boyfriend were very proud.

But due to your work, you had been a couple of weeks with no signs of life. When you arrived, Felix was sleeping, and when you left, it was still some time left until his alarm would buzz. That weekend the chaos was over, and you wanted to make the most of every second by his side. That's why you had gone to pick him up from work unannounced. And that's why Minho was complaining to you that you had abandoned him. By the time Felix showed up, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken in the gym, you had already given Minho a summary of the last few weeks and he had told you how things were going and how his cats were doing. The older idol slyly pulled away when he watched Felix's eyes light up as he registered your presence and ran up to you to wrap you in a hug and shower your face with kisses.

"Hi, YN" greeted Chris behind the little ray of sunshine you held in your arms, "Long time no see."

You returned the smile he had graced you with, although without dimples, and replied "Work held me kind of hostage."

That made the leader let out a laugh, and squeezed your arm affectionately.

"Want to go to dinner? My treat?"

Felix asked you with a look, fearing that you would accept out of good nature, even if you didn't feel like it, but you stroked the back of his neck to reassure him.

"No problem" you said, smiling. "I'd appreciate a good distraction right now."

"Are we expecting someone else, hyung?" asked Felix, intertwining your hand with his.

"I think I.N mentioned he would be joining later, but the rest of the boys are in our dorm."

The walk to the restaurant was loud and lively, like every time Felix was involved in something, and for a moment you allowed yourself to take in the atmosphere around you. You knew you were a little quiet, and that it wasn't very like you, but you also knew that your boyfriend had commented on how exhausted you were, so you hoped you weren't worrying anyone. The autumn weather was making you sensitive, that was all. Seeing how the light was darker than usual, the trees slowly becoming naked, and the noise the leaves made under your feet when you stepped on them. You loved how cold your face became after a simple walk, compared to the warmth of your body under the layers of coats you had put on it before leaving home. And most of all you loved the mischievous smile Felix would put on when he would take your hand unexpectedly and put it in his coat pocket, trying to give you some heat, just like he was doing at that moment.

He made a surprised face when you made eye contact with him and you let out a soft laugh, clinging to him and whispering an innocent "I love you" in his ear.

The place Chris had led you to was quiet but cozy, and you got the feeling that the owners already knew the boys. Minho was the one who was in charge of choosing what you were going to have for dinner, and between bottles of soju and water, and delicious pieces of grilled meat you enjoyed a time full of laughter and anecdotes. You asked Chris to send you the location of the restaurant later, planning to meet up with your friends sometime in the following week, and decided to wait a bit until I.N. arrived, who entered in a hurry and almost out of breath. Dinner was fun, as it always was when you spent time with Stray Kids, and you were even sad to say goodbye when Felix realized what time it was and announced that he wanted to have you all to himself for the rest of the night.

You left the place still with your fingers intertwined, and decided to walk back to your apartment. There was a light breeze blowing that blew your hair all over, and you laughed when you saw that the same thing had happened to Felix. You tried to comb his hair a little with your free hand, but it was a bit difficult because you were wearing gloves. It didn't matter anyway, because the moment you managed to get the strands out of his face, the wind would undo your work. It was when it started to rain that you started to run like teenagers, while passers-by took the opportunity to find shelter in nearby places. When you got home you were soaked, and you shivered up the stairs. You ran to get blankets and towels, discarding your coats and clothes until you were in your underwear, and when you made sure you both had dry hair, you huddled on the couch under as many blankets as you had, trying to get warm.

With Felix you never needed to have big conversations, although there had been nights when you had gone to sleep in the middle of the night because you had started to ramble on about whatever topic either of you had proposed. It wasn't the first time your boyfriend had said that for him actions were more important than words, so you spent as much time as possible showing him through actions how much you loved him and how much he deserved that love. You knew he didn't expect the night to end this way, and that he thanked you for it.

"Thank you for being the way you are, Lixie" you murmured, sitting up slightly in his arms so you could watch his face.

"Thank you for always being there for me" he replied, looking up at you with a whole universe of stars compressed in his beautiful eyes.

"Rough day?"

"It got better as soon as I saw you together with Minho hyung."

You both smiled, bringing your foreheads together and gently rubbing each other's nose against the other's in a comforting way. This was, without a doubt, your favorite part of any of the four seasons.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ SEUNGMIN, CHEEK KISS ❜

You'd been staying at your boyfriend's dorm for a couple of days, living with him and his three other group members. While they went to work, you were trying to catch up on your college notes from the comfort of the couch, still feeling too sick to attend class and with a stabbing pain in your belly every time the paracetamol stopped working, clear consequences of having missed the bus on a rainy day, walking home soaking wet, and the effects of your period.

Seungmin's manager had advised him not to get too close to you while you were ill, but he, far from listening to him, had simply asked his members if they cared, and upon their refusal had invited you to spend a few days with him in order to observe how your cold was progressing, making sure how you were feeling every second of the day and taking care of you as you deserved. And you, feeling so lonely in your apartment, had not hesitated to pack the essentials in a backpack and ask your brother to take you there.

That afternoon, however, you were alone in the dorm, as usual. Your nerves were eating you alive because a friend of yours had told you that one of your professors was going to upload, through your university's application, the results of your last exam. You had spent weeks preparing for that test, and for the activity that had to be presented on the day of the exam, and your boyfriend had helped you with both. You wanted to get a very good grade to make Seungmin proud of your effort and his own.

But when you opened the message, and saw that you had failed with one of the lowest grades in the class, you froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to react. "The teacher must have made a mistake with another student," you said, out loud, still in disbelief, "It's not possible that all that... I can't have gotten this after all the effort we put in." But after emailing your professor, his response was, if anything, even more hopeless. He told you that he too was surprised by your result, and that he was very disappointed with how you had evolved in the subject.

You threw your phone across the couch and burst into tears, your heart compressed, feeling that nothing you were doing was enough, that it was useless. Eventually the sobs stopped, though you continued to hide under the covers, staring blankly and breathing heavily. And that's how Felix found you when he came home, tired, at six o'clock in the evening, with a shopping bag in each hand, his backpack and an eternal smile on his lips that vanished when he entered the living room and saw that you didn't give it back to him.

As he noticed your figure curled up on the couch and how you were, surrounded by blankets, with teary eyes and remnants of tears on your cheeks, he didn't hesitate to drop everything on the floor and sit next to you, hugging you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked you, stroking your back comfortingly.

"A bad grade," you explained, between sobs, trying to steady your voice, "Where is everyone?"

"You mean Seungmin, I suppose," he said, and your shy apologetic smile made him continue, "Today he was supposed to record the cover he was preparing, I think he's going to be late."

You stood silently, staring at nothing for a moment, and then wiped away your tears, faking a minimally cheerful face to downplay the situation, and sitting up on the couch, putting the blanket aside.

"It's okay, work is work," you told him, resting your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "Do you want me to help you with those bags, what did you buy?"

Felix's eyes lit up again, still slightly reluctant to move you away from your corner on the couch, but he flashed a smile and told you the latest story that happened between Changbin and Hyunjin, guiding you to the kitchen. You helped him place everything he had bought at the supermarket while he made sure that, for a few minutes, you forgot what had made you so sad. He suggested making brownies to take to practice the next day, and just as he was preparing the ingredients on the counter, you offered to play one of your Spotify playlists. You ended up jokingly discussing some of the songs, and decided to make a playlist from scratch just for when he went into baking mode. He even managed to make you laugh.

And then I.N. and Minho arrived, and while the latter prepared dinner, the former monopolized Felix's attention with questions about the last videogame they had played together with your boyfriend. So you ended up sitting back on the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, rocking as you listened to the youngsters chatting and laughing, with Minho occasionally joining the conversation. And you kept wondering what exactly you were doing there. Living momentarily with those wonderful boys who didn't deserve to have you invading their space, who came home exhausted and didn't need to take care of you if Seungmin wasn't around. They weren't supposed to have that responsibility. God, even Seungmin shouldn't have proposed you to spend a few days with them. You were just acting like a parasite in their house, and they didn't deserve it. When was the last time you paid for something? You were not contributing at all.

With your eyes misty with tears you got up in a hurry, grabbed the keys to your own apartment, where you should have stayed from the beginning, and left. You went downstairs as fast as you could, putting as much distance as you could between you and the dorm, between you and the guys. You had nowhere to go either, really. You didn't feel like going back to your apartment yet, your friends were studying for their last exams, like you should be doing, and you had left your phone on the couch, with your laptop and your notes. God, you hadn't even been able to do that right. You were sure Minho would hate you when he walked into the living room and saw that everything was dirty and full of your stuff. As lucky as you were, you had probably even forgot to throw away the tissues you had used to fight your cold.

You began to wander around the city, regretting not having thought things through before running away, because the temperature had begun to drop with the arrival of night, and you were only wearing your sweatpants and Seungmin's hoddie over them. The painkiller was wearing off, intensifying your abdominal pain, and to top it off, you were really hungry. You ended up accepting the fact that it would be better to go home now. You needed to feed yourself, take a warm shower and get into bed, because after wandering the streets of Seoul, your cold would probably have gotten worse. You got up from the swing where you had decided to stop to rest for a while, and left the park, trying to find the street you were on and the quickest way home.

You felt your hands deathly cold against the fabric of your hoodie, and even colder against the metal of your keys, as you tried to open the door. Each step was an effort, and after you struggled with the lock, you were almost out of breath. Still, as you closed the door you leaned against it and sighed, feeling the weight of your decisions on your shoulders.

"YN?" you heard from the living room.

You frowned as you recognized the voice and hurried to the living room, bumping into your boyfriend halfway.

"Seungmin? What are you doing here?"

He grabbed your arms to steady you both and frowned.

"Why aren't you at home? Felix texted me super worried because when he arrived you were crying on the couch but you didn't want to talk about it with anyone and I finished the recording as soon as possible to..."

"That's not my home" you whispered, unable to hold his gaze.

"What?"

"That's not my home, Seungmin" you repeated, somewhat louder, and sniffled.

"Sure it is" he replied, running his gaze over your features.

"No" you mumbled, whimpering again, noticing how a shiver ran down your back.

"Hey, hey, come on, love, of course it's your home" he told you, softening his voice. "I live there, and you're more than welcome to come over anytime. The boys love you, you know that. And my room and the living room is full of your stuff!"

"That's the problem!"

You let out a sob, and rested your head on his shoulder, unable to continue sharing your thoughts. You felt Seungmin wrap his arms around you, and you took refuge in them, absorbing his warmth.

“Listen, love, we'd better talk about it after a shower, okay? You're burning up, and I'm sure you're hungry."

You nodded, still not looking at him, and let him guide you. Your boyfriend let you curl up under a blanket on the couch while he prepared the bathtub for you. Then he helped you up, carrying you to the bathroom and taking off your clothes. And you trusted him your safety, eyes closed, until you felt your body being submerged in warm water. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling better, and listened as he opened the shampoo bottle, then immediately felt his long fingers massaging your scalp.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," he began, his voice like a lullaby, "because I know it's hard to express certain things. But I think I know how you feel, and let me tell you one thing: you don't bother them, you don't bother us. Just because the boys and I trust each other so much or fit in so well doesn't mean that we don't need you, that we don't miss you when you're not around. Especially me, love. You are my favorite person. I would give everything for you, and that's why if I have a choice, when you are unwell, and even when you are well, I like to come home and see you there. You always greet me with a smile, and you automatically make my day. If you really don't want to be there because you feel uncomfortable, I'll help you bring your things here tomorrow. But if it's because you feel you don't fit in, or because you think you're a burden, believe me we don't see it that way at all. Felix knows you only do playlists with him, every time you ask him for music recommendations, he gets very excited. Minho loves to feed you because he loves the constructive criticism you give him. And he is very grateful when you offer to clean the kitchen for him, because he is very tired lately. And Jeongin trusts very few people to take good photos of him. He almost always posts the ones you take of him. You are important, YN. And you are loved. I love you. You can't imagine how much."

"I love you too" you managed to say, between sobs. At that point, the shampoo was long forgotten, and there was only record of the silence that enveloped you as you both looked into each other's eyes: he with the intensity of the one who intends to communicate with his gaze that which resides in his soul, you with the tears that show that you have opened your heart to his every word, and let them envelop you completely. "Thank you."

Seungmin sighs, sketching a smile of relief, now that he knows you are already feeling somewhat better, and strokes your cheek with his soapy hand. You close your eyes against his velvety, slippery touch, and feel his lips brush your other cheek, in a kiss as light as a butterfly.

☆⠀⠀ ━━━ ⠀⠀❛ JEONGIN, PECK ❜

It was odd for both of you to argue, or be mad at each other. He was in the stressful period of preparation before a comeback, with enough time to just breathe, and he had found space for you in his last free afternoon, discarding the idea of taking a break to be with you. And as a matter of destiny, just as you were about to sit down on the couch in your apartment to watch your Friday movie, enjoying each other's company, your mother called you.

The thing is, your sister was getting married. The ceremony was coming up soon, and you had confirmed your attendance, of course, but you only said you were bringing a friend –a male friend–, and your mother was curious about whether that boy was a posible boyfriend or not. The problem was that your parents didn't know you had a boyfriend, and you weren’t sure if you wanted them to. You hadn't found the right time to say anything about it, and you didn't have a great relationship with your parents anyway, so it wasn't something you had the need to tell. But obviously you wanted Jeongin to accompany you in such a nice and special moment, so when your mother asked you about who you were going to bring, you simply replied "Mm, all you have to know is that my friend’s name is Jeongin."

You didn't think much of it –not that you knew he was listening, since you had gone back to the kitchen to chat with your mother while he went to the living room– but since then, the maknae's smile faded and he adopted a somewhat absent demeanor for the rest of the evening. You didn't notice it because neither of you were big fans of skinship and you were curled up on one end of the couch under a blanket. He had crossed his arms at the other end, but due to the movie you both were watching was so interesting your eyes were fixed on the screen, absorbing every possible detail in an attempt to try to unravel the ending of the thriller before the story itself revealed it. You bent down often to pick up some candies that you and Jeongin had left on the table after dinner, and when you offered one to your boyfriend and he completely ignored you, you stared at him with a confused look on your face.

"Baby," you murmured, moving slightly closer to him, still holding the small package of Korean sweets, running your gaze over his features, "would you like one of these?"

Jeongin remained silent, eyes focused on the plot unfolding in front of you, and you frowned as you realized that it hadn't been a mistake, it wasn't that he hadn't listened to you, but that he was completely ignoring you. You decided to play for a while longer, just to assess how serious the situation was, and sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. You swung your legs up, placing them in his lap, and then rested your head on his shoulder, pulling the plastic off the candy and eating it noisily. Suddenly you had lost all interest in the movie. You'd have time to watch it again, some other time. After a few minutes you gave him a sideye glance, but he seemed really focused on refusing any kind of interaction with you.

You sighed, making a ball with the candy wrapper and tried to throw it on the table. Of course, you failed. You decided to change tactics, and posture, and rested all the weight of your body on his legs, trying to make it as uncomfortable as possible for him, but managing to accommodate yourself in such a way that you ended up practically on his lap, with your head resting on his arms. You couldn't deny that it would have been more convenient for you if your boyfriend didn't have his arms crossed, but he seemed to be aware of this fact as well, and tensed them on purpose.

In this silent war, which you had every intention of winning, you had an enemy of great strength. You had tried rolling over him, making noise while eating and making noise with the candy wrappers (so much so that you even felt reluctant to eat candy in the near future because you had had enough of it), you had gotten up, walked past the TV, gone to your room to change into something more provocative and even tried watching tiktoks at full volume. Nothing was working: the only sign of life on I.N's part was his blinking and the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You were beginning to get impatient, and to take it more personally. What was it that you had done that had offended him so much?

"Love" you tried, breaking the silence.

There was no response.

"Jeongin?" you called out to him, resting your hand on his arm, and moving it.

He remained hermetic, and your patience, which had been running out for a while, reached a critical point. You picked up the remote control and stopped the movie, standing in front of the TV with a frown on your face and your arms just as crossed as his were.

"What's your problem?"

"I was watching the movie" he looked up to look you in the eye, with that fox gaze that characterized him so much. The thing was, this time he hadn't softened it, as he did every time he saw you, but it was still as sharp as a dagger, as if you were just strangers in a bar.

"I don't care about the movie" you replied, trying to decipher the source of his behavior, "What's wrong with you?"

Jeongin looked away, and mumbled something between his teeth that you failed to understand.

"What?"

"Go ask your 'friend Jeongin', I'm sure he knows. That’s what I said"

You kept silent, trying to puzzle out his words, until you remembered the phrase you had used in the previous phone call, when your mother had once again tried to use her charms to pressure you into revealing the identity of your male friend. And you smiled. You hid the curve of your lips almost immediately, because if your boyfriend had reacted that way it was because it had really affected him, and you didn't want him to misundertand your reaction. You straddled his lap and, with great effort, got him to uncross his arms and put them around your waist.

"Do you want to know who the caller was?" you asked him, using a gentle tone, resting your hands on his shoulders and massaging that area, trying to help him stop tensing his body.

He nodded, finally looking you in the eye, sulking, which made you pout.

"Ever since my sister invited us to her wedding and I told her that I would be bringing a date, my mother has taken it for granted that I have a boyfriend and wants to meet you, to know who you are" you began, sighing at your mother's behavior, "Knowing her, she'll direct all the attention my sister deserves towards me, just because I've gotten a date. And I don't want to ruin my sister's day over a silly thing. I told her you were my friend because I know she will insist me on asking you out, but only when she’s alone with me. That way there won't be any public comments with unknown intentions. I'm not ashamed of you, my love, and I'm really sorry if it gave you that feeling."

Now you did let out a chuckle as you noticed the blush that had been spreading across your boyfriend's cheeks and ears as you spoke. He covered his cheeks with his hands, and you pressed your forehead to his lovingly, still giggling slightly, loving his reaction. You rested your hands on his and leaned in to bring your lips together in a chaste kiss. And then you had an idea.

"W-what are you doing?" your boyfriend inquired, watching as you managed to reach your cell phone on the other end of the couch.

You put your index finger to his lips as you unlocked the phone, shushing him, and searching for your sister's contact. You sent her a short message making sure she had a moment for you, while your boyfriend admired your face of absolute concentration, still wondering what you were up to. Then you smiled as you read your sister's reply, and hit the video call icon instantly.

"YN! How's everything over there?"

Jeongin's eyes went wide as he recognized the voice, and he looked at you with a panicked gesture, tensing up underneath you.

"Hello, sis! I wanted to tell you something about the wedding" you announced, triumphantly.

"Oh, no," she protested, pouting, "Mom's being a pain again? I'm terribly sorry, I warned her not to be like that, but she's just so excited."

"It does have to do with mom, but it's nothing bad, don't worry" you told her, alternating your gaze between the screen and your boyfriend. "Remember when I confirmed attendance?"

"Mm-hm," he nodded, thinking about the answer, "two people and no allergies, right?"

"Right" you affirmed, noticing how your boyfriend anticipated your intentions and cringed. "I told you and mom I was going to bring my friend Jeongin."

"Wait- you're not bringing your friend after all? You're bringing a boyfriend!" she accused you, excitedly.

"More or less, yeah haha. Jeongin is my boyfriend, actually. We've been together for almost a year, and we've been living together for a few months now. I wanted someone to know it there, but mom can't find out."

"Phew, you're telling me. We wouldn't hear the end of it in our lifetime" she concurred. "And tell me, do you have your Romeo around? Or can I gossip how do you two..."

"He's here!" you hurriedly announced, cutting your sister off in the middle of her sentence, a sentence whose end you didn't even want to hear, and moved until you were sitting shoulder to shoulder with him again, making him appear in the video call too. "Jeongin, this is my sister. Sis, Jeongin, my boyfriend."

"Hi, noona," he said to her, still embarrassed, but with his trademark bright smile shining on his face.

"Hi, Jeongin!" she replied, with the energy she had always had. "I have to go now, but I hope I can see you before the wedding. Although if we can't, I hope you guys have a great time!!"

You hung up, and looked at your boyfriend with a smile on your lips, teasing him a little at how tense he had been the entire call.

"You had nothing to worry about, I wasn't going to make a fool of you."

Jeongin rolled his eyes and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You love to make a fool of me."

You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, noticing how your heart shrank at the truth you had just discovered: you were very much in love with this boy. And, knowing that this whole situation had happened because of your sister's wedding, you obviated the thought that at some point in the future, you didn't know when, you would be more than willing to marry him.

© stayconnecteed 2023 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms

[tojisbbygworl]

How Could You - Hobie Brown x Reader

Summary: Hobie was not the best boyfriend. It’s not his fault, he has an obligation to his city and by proxy, the multiverse. But, he doesn’t want to lose you. Unfortunately, revealing his secret does the opposite of what he had hoped.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort,Canon-Divergence, (Hobie doesn’t reveal himself after killing Osbourne, Comic villains and events but movie Hobie, He’s supposed to be British but I forgot like halfway through writing)

Words: 3147

author’s note: If I had a nickel for everytime a girl broke up with her superhero bf bcs he lied abt being a superhero I would have 2 nickels.

Honestly tho I rly don’t like the whole ‘I’m upset because you lied to me’ trope in the superhero genre. I feel like there’s a much better reason to break up with a superhero so here’s my idea. I’ll talk more abt it in the end note.

Anyway enjoy!

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

Soaring through the air with nothing but a thin string as support, fighting monsters 3 times his size sometimes from a different universe, killing the fucking Prime Minister; none of these things have brought him as much anxiety as he feels in this moment.

It was so late, after 2 in the morning, and he was rushing back to his apartment grunting in pain from his injuries. It’s never fun fighting Kingpin, but hopefully after tonight he won’t have to do that anymore. Kamala had finally discovered his new place of hiding, Osbourne’s old bunker.

No matter how badly his ribs stung with every thwip and pull, he didn’t let up or slow down for a second. You were waiting for him. You’ve been waiting for him since he left at 8. Fuck, it’s been 6 hours? How did he let time fly like that?

‘She’s going to kill me,’ he lightly joked to himself. His stomach turned, he knows deep down that you were getting down to your last straw. You’re always so sweet about his disappearances. He tells you he needs to go; “Being in-charge of a non-profit anti-establishment organization dedicated to the dismantling of our government doesn’t allow you to have much free time, love. I’ll be back,” he would say. Your gorgeous smile would present itself and he just has to give you a kiss before he leaves. That smile has become less bright in recent months.

You’ve started voicing your annoyance as well. “Yeah, so I’ve heard,” you would respond. Or, “Duty calls?” With an eye roll. His least favorite response was, “Why don’t you date the organization instead?” The chuckle you let out after that was so dry and your smile was so empty. It scared him.

There were times where he wasn’t there in the first place. He regrets those the most. He’s missed so many important things, some of which he couldn’t understand how or why you forgave him. He certainly wouldn’t have if he was in your position. You had to be an angel or something. Fuck, he loves you.

Tonight was supposed to be a shut-in date night. Just the two of you, some junk food, and a scary movie that you’ve been dying to see. His watch beeped with a message: got a lead on Fisk. He looked at you and you just…let him go. You didn’t smile, you didn’t frown, you just looked into his eyes and turned away.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.” You didn’t respond, and at that moment, he decided that when he got back there would be no more secrets. No more sneaking around. No more lies. He loved you and you deserved to know.

From what he could see through the window, the lights were off. A part of him is relieved, hoping you weren’t awake so he could just take care of his injuries and slip into bed next to you. He would just have to wait to tell you tomorrow morning.

But, that plan is put to shit when he opens the window and quietly steps inside his living room. The tv is off and the snacks have been cleared. Hobie starts to panic. Did you go home?

He slips off his shoes in case you were sleeping soundly in his room and starts to walk slowly towards it. The door is cracked just a bit and the light is off there too. The entire apartment was shrouded in darkness, the only possible light coming through windows from the moon. He looks through the crack and relaxes upon seeing your silhouette in bed. He lets out a quiet sigh and creeps away to the bathroom.

“Hobie?” He freezes. A few seconds pass and he hears the bed creaking and feet shuffling across the floor. He still doesn’t turn around as his door opens to reveal you in your pajamas, face puffy, and eyes red.

You had been waiting for him to get home for what felt like forever. You were so excited earlier today, but there was this unrelenting churn in your stomach telling you that he would leave eventually. And of course, you were right.

Honestly, you didn’t understand why you were still with him at this point. You know he lies about where he is. You’ve known ever since he invited you to a protest his non profit put together. You told him you wanted to become an official member and he shot it down immediately. “Too dangerous for a peng-thing such as yourself,” he told you. He was right about it being dangerous, everyone was gassed and it hadn’t even been 15 minutes. But that didn’t matter. You wanted to be a part of it. Especially after they got to witness Prime Minister Osbourne’s beheading.

He didn’t even use it as an excuse most of the time. When you would wait for him to meet with you, his reasonings were fickle if he even had any.

“Got caught up with something,”

“One of my mates needed me, you know how that goes,”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m here now aren’t I?”

Oh, and there was your favorite, “Get off my back, will you? I’ve got a life too.” The times where he had nothing to say at all, as painful as it was, were much better. You were so sick of it and you just hoped that he could tell.

Right now, in this moment, you’re not sure because he still hasn’t turned around. You couldn’t see much in the darkness of the hallway, but you at least knew it was him and he was walking away. “You can’t even look at me?”

Hobie stood still, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to see the look on your face. He knew you were disappointed. He could hear it in your voice. “…I,” he clears his throat. “I didn’t think you would still be awake.” He cringes.

You blink at him. “You didn’t think I would still be awake?” You repeated vexedly, your voice growing stronger.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hobie tries to save.

You closed your eyes and took in a sharp breath. “You know…if you’re cheating on me, I’d rather you be honest about it.”

Hobie finally turns around. In the dark, you can’t see his mask, but he can see you perfectly. You looked so dejected and it destroyed him. He could tell that you had been crying before he got here, and now you’re eyes were welling up again. His chest pangs.

“I don’t appreciate you leaving me without a word and coming back whenever you want,” you continue, your voice breaking. A tear slips down your face and you quickly wipe it away only for another to follow right after. “Do you think I’m stupid?” You sob, trying to remain strong as he walks towards you. “That I would just be okay with that shit?”

Hobie still doesn’t answer. Instead, he stands a couple feet away from you right next to the light switch. “Are you not going to answer me?” You growl at him. Still, nothing. “Ho-”

The light turns on. His name halts in your throat as you gaze upon him. Your tears don’t stop and you raise your hand to your mouth, a shaky gasp escaping you. Hobie finally peels his mask off to reveal his cut up face.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence as you try and process this new information. Hobie was…Spider-man. Your boyfriend was Spider-man. That’s why. That’s why he was never there. That’s why he can never be there. Hobie opens his mouth, the breath he takes being enough to cut through the tension. “I’m sorry.”

He continues to walk towards you, praying that you don’t walk away. You’re frozen in place. “I’m so sorry.” He holds his arms out and embraces you in a tight hug relaxing into your arms when you lift them up and wrap them around his neck. You bury your head into his shoulders making his suit wet from your tears.

Hobie’s lips begin to quiver. He swallows a sob before speaking again. “I didn’t know how to tell you...” His voice cracks while trying to find the right words to say. “I just…I am so sorry for lying to you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

For a while, the both of you just stand there in each other’s presence. There was a feeling of anxiousness in the air; for Hobie, he was worried why you hadn’t said anything. As for you…

“Come on.” You grabbed his hand and walked the both of you to his bathroom where you sat him on the toilet and tended to his facial wounds. You remained completely silent, still trying to gather all of your thoughts. It made him all the more terrified.

Hobie repeatedly geared himself up to speak to you, but ultimately kept his mouth closed. What could he say? It was you who needed to talk. You needed to tell him how worried for him you would be. You needed to tell him how happy you were that he was okay. You needed to tell him how angry you were at him for lying to you.

You needed…you needed…

He needed you to say something. Anything.

But you didn’t know how to tell him. And when you were done with his face he stood up and took your hand to walk the both of you back to his room. You followed at first, but quickly stopped. He looked back at you in confusion, his heart racing. “What is it?”

You let go of his hand with him refusing to do the same. It went limp in his hold as you stared at the ground. Your eyes filled with tears and fell just as quickly. Without looking up, you finally told him what was on your mind. “I…I was going to break up with you tonight.”

His heart dropped. He releases a huff having been completely floored by that charged sentence. What do you mean you were going to break up with him? What do you mean there was no saving the relationship the moment he left? What do you mean he was too late?

His mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to convey his shock. “Was?” He decides upon, foolishly hopeful.

The breath that you take in, the look on your face, and the tears falling down it killed anything inside him that held onto the possibility that you still wanted to be with him. So he lets go of your hand too. “No.” You say.

Hobie is appalled. His eyes dart around the hallway as his mind tries to make sense of what was happening. His breathing gets harder and faster. He begins to shake his head. “I don’t-,” he stutters, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Hobie-”

“I mean, I…” he hikes his shoulders up and holds up his hands. Finally, he looks at you. His chest aches at the sight of you, he’s never seen you so dejected. He gestures at himself. “You see…you see why.”

You walk towards him and put your hand on his chest to try and calm him down. It does nothing. Instead he holds his own hand over yours to keep it there. “And I am so glad that you trusted me enough to tell me. Your secret is safe with me, Hobie.” After telling him that, you lose any resolve you had and sob. Your voice is strained when you talk, and you have to take small pauses to catch your breath and remain coherent. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you missed my graduation-”

“I was almost eaten alive.” he quickly defends, remembering that annoying day. The Inheritors have become a very big nuisance since Osbourne’s death and are the reason for so many of his disappearances. He would explain all of this to you if you gave him the chance.

You scrunch your face with a look of confusion, but when he doesn’t explain any further, you continue. “And you missed my recital-”

“So I could keep Kraven from fucking up 38th street.” He was starting to get upset. It’s like you weren’t listening to him. He was Spider-man. Of course he couldn’t be there for every facet of your life. And you knew that now. So…what the fuck? “If I hadn’t done that, your mates wouldn’t have anywhere to live.”

You could hear the annoyance in his tone and body language, and it made you a little miffed. “I understand that-“

“Do you?”

You slap your head in frustration. “You’re not getting it, Hobie. You weren’t there-“

“Yeah, I fucking couldn’t be because I’m too busy trying un-fuck our city and everyone in it. Including you.” He says, slightly raising his voice. How dare you get mad at him when you’re the one who’s leaving? “I mean, I’m showing you why I can’t be there and it’s still not enough?”

You never stopped crying, but now you were pissed. You glared at him. “You think that fixes everything? It doesn’t change the fact that I stood outside the auditorium and waited for you right before and right after my name was called for nothing. Or that I almost fucked up my solo because I couldn’t think about anything besides the fact that you weren’t there.”

Hobie raises a finger at you. “I-”

“Stop interrupting me!” You shout, immediately recoiling but keeping your glare. Hobie blinks at you in disbelief. “Knowing that you were off saving the world does not mean I didn’t need you there with me when my sister was-” Choking on your words, you cover your mouth with your hand in a feeble attempt to hide the sob that escaped. Hobie’s anger dissipated and all that was left was utter heartbreak.

You took a second to recollect yourself, shying away from his touch when he reached out to you. He drops his arm by his side. “I don’t understand,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

Taking another deep breath, you drop the ball on him , finally. “If you’re worried I’m going to go off and tell Jonah Jameson-”

“No,” he practically shouts. “I’m not fucking worried about that. I’m upset, because my girlfriend is breaking up with me!”

“Don’t fucking yell at me!”

Hobie slams his hands against his head and walks away from you, panting. All you can do is watch him, anticipating his next move. Bracing yourself for whatever he’ll say out of anger.

After a few moments of breathing, he drops his hands and turns to look at you. “So what you just-don’t love me anymore?”

“What?”

“Is that it? There’s someone else?”

You furrowed your brows and looked around the room wondering where the hell he got that from. “The fuck? No!”

“So why don’t you want to be with me anymore?”

You groaned in frustration and covered your face with your hands. He just wasn’t getting it. “That’s not what I’m saying-”

“The fuck are you saying?” His voice louder than it’s ever been towards you.

“I want to be with you, Hobie,” you tell him, the tears never ending. Your voice, as loud as it is, shakes and cracks. Hobie grabs his hair, his mind completely scattered. You were confusing him left and right. Why can’t you just come out and say-

“I don’t want to be with Spider-Man.”

Everything seems to stop. The only sound being you calming yourself down as you take some deep breaths. You couldn’t look at Hobie, you just couldn’t. As for him, he couldn’t stop looking at you utter disbelief and heartbreak.

His bottom lip quivered as it hung open. His nostrils began to flare. His chest rose and fell as he felt the lump in his throat grow. Why won’t you look at him? Please look at him…please?

“You…I don’t…” he simply can’t find the words to describe how he felt. To put it simply, you were breaking his heart. He loves you. He fucking loves you so much. It hurts that there’s nothing he can do to fix this. He can’t just stop being Spider-Man, no matter how hard he’s considering it at this moment.

He doesn’t know what yo do. He’s so hurt. He’s so…fucking…angry.

“Get out.” He says, looking at the ground.

You jerk your head up at him. Wiping your eyes, you ask him, “What?”

Hobie angrily puts his mask back on. “Get the fuck out,” he repeats, louder this time. You don’t move. You didn’t want it to end like this. Was it really going to end like this? No…

“Ba-Hobie,” Slip of the tongue. But it was too late, he heard it and it broke him even more.

“I don’t want you here when I get back.” He turns away from you and stalks towards the window. Without looking back once, he lifts it open and hops back out into the night.

You slap your hand over your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut. This feeling in your chest, you wanted to lie down and scream at the top of your lungs. You were hoping he understood, that you could reason with him, but now you were left a lonely shell of your former self. You would hate yourself for breaking his heart the way you did. As you gather your things and leave the apartment, you start to wonder, was this even worth it?

On the trek home, you decided; yes. It hurt, but nothing would compare to the pain of him not being there at the hospital when you told him you needed him there. All the moments that you needed the man you loved and he was no where to be found, you found joy in knowing that you would never experience that again.

You weren’t angry with Hobie anymore. You knew why things were the way they were now. But, that’s not a love life that you wanted. That was the most difficult thing you had to do, but you had to do it. You weren’t going to be a superhero’s girlfriend. You just weren’t. You hoped he understood one day.

And he will. But for now, Hobie watches you leave the building with a hole in his heart and hatred in his mind. For now, you just don’t want to make it work with him. Hobie knows the two of you are meant to be, he just wishes you would understand that-

No. He wishes you would accept him. You don’t . And that destroys him.

For now, you simply don’t love him enough to accept him for what he is. A huge part of him was scared of this, and would you look at that, it came true.

He was so confused. So hurt. How could you. How could you?…

ending a/n: Hi! How was it? I hope I wrote it well. I really wanted to make sure it was clear that they both are valid in their feelings about the whole thing. It made sense that it would all blow up and not end well and I think it’s very easy for someone who is dealing with a lot of emotions to not really think rationally or listen to the other person.

If you read this whole thing and was like ‘what is wrong with her’ let me try to explain my thought process. She doesn’t want to be with a superhero. She wants to be in a relationship with someone who can be there for her. Hobie was never there, if he was it was few and far between. And that’s bcs of his obligation to the world and multiverse. That’s no one’s fault. She gets that. So she’s going to find someone who CAN give her the time she needs. Someone who doesn’t have a duty to the world. Someone who can focus on her as much as she does for them.

Of course, Hobie isn’t going to understand that. All he hears is that she doesn’t want to be with him. So, he’s thinking irrationally, not really listening to what she’s saying. Taking things the wrong way bcs he’s heart broken.

I like where I ended it, but I am very open to a pt 2 in the future where they’ve gotten over it (or maybe not 👀) but they’re not going to get back together. It’ll be like closure unless I decide to never let Hobie heal from it. Hmmmm. Idk idk idk!

Anyway, I hope you guys understood my thinking and enjoyed this version of this trope. I don’t think I’ve seen it done before, it would be nice to start a trend of this. I would love to see how other people interpret this. Please feel free to discuss this particular topic more with me if you would like! I don’t bite! Y’all have a good one🩵🩵

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

[slytherinshua]

[ 11:27pm ]

“You missed our date. Again.” You muttered, placing your bag down and discarding your shoes. He didn’t respond for a couple seconds, only making it harder for you to not get mad at him. 

It wasn’t even his fault. He didn’t have much control over his schedule, so who were you to get mad that it got changed last minute? You should be mad at his manager if anyone. Still, if there was a little more communication, then maybe you wouldn’t feel as though you were being left in the dark so often.

“Sorry… I’m sure you’re disappointed.” He sighed, voice sounding a bit rough. You wondered if he had lost his voice again from straining it too much.

“It gets a little more than just disappointing after the 4th time.” He didn’t respond and you glanced at him only to see him typing some message.

“You might as well be dating your manager. You spend more time texting them than you do texting me.” You said icily, already foreseeing you saying some things which you would regret later. But your brain was too clouded to worry about that. All you could feel was the disappointment, betrayal, frustration, and sadness that you felt after waiting for hours for him to just show up— but apparently even that was too much to ask.

“I don’t do it on purpose.” Seungmin mumbled. He was tired, you could tell.

“Are you sure about that? Cause it seems like you do.” Your words were getting more heated by the second, and you only got more agitated from another text lighting up Seungmin’s phone.

“Go on. Answer the text. Prove my point.” You challenged, your eyes burning with anger and tears, waiting for what he would do.

“Not tonight, Y/n, please not tonight. This is important.” He said, reaching for his phone to answer the text as if those words were enough to shut you up. They probably should’ve been.

“It’s more important than your girlfriend who you haven’t seen all day?” You asked, a sarcastic laugh escaping your mouth. It at least made him pause, leaving the text unread for an extra five seconds. Record time.

“I hate fighting with you. You know I hate it.”

“Then why do you never show up!?”

He retracted his hand, slow and scared. Scared that he had messed up too badly this time.

“I’m always the one waiting! Waiting for your texts and calls. Waiting for you to show up. You’d think that after all this time I’d stop being so naive about it…” The first tear slipped past your waterline, making its slow descent down your cheek. Seungmin was staring at you, soft eyes still managing to show that he cared. Despite his tiredness, despite your anger, he still cared.

“I keep thinking this date is the one that’ll be successful. But it never is. I always manage to get hurt and disappointed. Every. Time.” Your shoulders shook and you looked down, anger subsiding and being replaced with sadness.

He stood up, hesitantly reaching out to touch your shoulder, making sure you didn’t shrink away from him. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. He pulled you to his chest, heart aching from seeing you cry, especially since he was the reason for it. He hated it the most in the world.

“I’ll show up. I promise I’ll show up…” He whispered as one of his hands gently rubbed circles on your back. 

He wasn’t going to break his promise this time.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ skz taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @ddeonudepressions,, @justhyunhoer

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: forgive me for this angst idek how this happened, it's 1 am 💀

[myouicieloz]

Hi! I just found your blog and I’m looking forward to your works. Could I request a Seulgi angst fic; where you and Seulgi have been in a happy, loving, fulfilling, committed relationship for the past 3 years, but one day when she came back from practice with the girls you two got into a heated argument about how she’s always canceling dates with you because work related things come up that she “can’t miss” and she ends up bringing up something that you had confided in Her about awhile ago and uses it against you; to which she immediately regrets and tries to take back and can you take it from there? Thank you! I look forward to it:)

Missing you

Kang Seulgi x reader

Warnings: toxic!relationship, angst (dw it’s all good now)

Word count: 3.7k

Notes: hi!! sorry for taking long <3. I kind of struggled to think of a motive of them arguing bc it kept getting too dark (as in they wouldn’t be able to get past this lol) and I kinda wanted a happy ending. I hope this is to your liking!! Kisses mwah mwah.

Your gaze flew to the clock for the 30th time in a spam of five minutes, making you sigh in defeat. Seulgi had promised you she’d meet you at your favorite restaurant for dinner, as a way to make up to you for being so busy over the past weeks. Yet there you were, sitting alone with a glass of bitter wine for over two whole hours before you finally gave up and went home, realizing she wouldn’t come. Again.

Babe <3

Hey baby, rehearsals are going up until late since we still have so much to work on

I won’t make it to dinner. Sorry.

Next week, though? I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

I love you

You got into your apartment just as her message lit up your phone. You threw it over the sofa, preparing yourself a long bath to try to relax. You took a deep breath before entering the warm water, the bubbles and the silence easing your tensed muscles. You tried not to think about your girlfriend or your relationship, knowing it’d only make you even more upset, but your thoughts didn’t seem to let you rest.

You and Seulgi loved each other, you knew that much. You’ve never loved her any less in those three years you’ve been dating, but it pained you to see how much you’ve drifted apart lately. You felt like you were the only one trying to spend time with her, and it wasn’t like you weren’t busy yourself: being an intern in one of Seoul’s top hospitals while studying for residency was tiring and difficult, specially since you’ve always been a bit behind your colleagues, having to push yourself harder than the most to simply be at their level. Still, you always made sure to make some time for Seulgi. Why couldn’t she do the same? Were you not important to her?

Those thoughts made you sigh, your body immersed in the water until it went limp and the water grew cold. Part of you wished you could be somewhat more imposing: demand more from her, confront the woman over your issues, telling her how you felt. You couldn’t, though. You were too weak for that. Which was the reason you dragged yourself to bed, rolling over to set your alarm on your phone before allowing your body to be dragged by sleep.

It’s ok.

Next time, then

Gnight love

Seulgi’s reply came hours later, although you were fast asleep.

Sweet dreams, dearest.

-

To say you were having a bad day was a euphemism. Your preceptor had given you the biggest, shittiest lecture over nothing (so what if you couldn’t get the stupid procedure done at the very first try? He had no right to scream at you to get out of the OR like that, let alone yell at your face for over half an hour about how dumb and unprepared you were, compared to others. Preposterous piece of crap). You nearly fell down the stairs on your way to lunch and, to make it better, your umbrella broke, making you run all the way home after being dropped at the bus stop to try to get less soaked. It didn’t work, and you entered your place with chattering teeth and the feeling of the wind carved deep in your bones. Your body was trembling so much from the cold and the stress, you dropped your keys twice before you managed to open the door, finally sighing in relief.

That relief, however, ended just as you spotted your girlfriend’s silhouette leave your kitchen and enter your living room, smiling as if she hadn’t fucked up hard by leading you on for so long.

“Jesus baby, you’re soaked.” She frowned, giving you a peck on the lips. Your body went rigid at her touch, exhausted from everything, which made Seulgi confused. She was finally able to make some time and come see you, so why weren’t you happy?

You simply murmured something along the lines of hello and so nice to see you, before hurrying to your room to get rid of the wet clothes that clung to your body. You took the hottest shower of your life, trying to wash all the discomfort away, which didn’t work in the slightest.

You loved Seulgi so much it hurt, but the last thing you wanted for the day was to see her. You felt drained, your body ached, and you so desperately wanted to hide under your sheets and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want to talk about your day—about anything, specially not to her. It’d demand too much energy to explain what was going on with you over the past few weeks, since you never seemed to properly talk to each other, anymore. You had no energy for that.

And you’ve always sucked at communicating, anyway.

You forced yourself to leave your room, dragging your feet in tiredness, and found Seulgi setting up the table for two. You sat down, still silent, and watched as she put some Tteokbokki for herself.

“I’ve already eaten at the hospital.” You told her, returning her stare with a shrug. Seulgi sighed at your pettiness; perhaps you did get mad at her for canceling on you on the prior week, unlike you’d told her. And the week before that. And-

Ok. She might deserve a bit of your cold shoulder. But you simply had to understand her: she was working so hard with the girls to prepare for their comeback, and there were still many things to be adjusted. Their expected date was approaching, and you’ve always been so comprehensive. Sure, she knew you often masked your feelings or simply dismissed them to try to please others, but she’d asked you about it so many times. If something was making you uncomfortable, you’d sure tell her. Right?

“So,” She grunted, adjusting herself in the chair. “How was your day?”

“It was fine, thanks.”

“Okay.” Seulgi murmured, not touching her food either. She was beginning to get irritated at your distance now. Sure, she knew being a doctor was exhausting and time-consuming, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t having one hell of a week, either. Her fingers twitched under the table, and she no longer stood the awkward silence between you. Rolling her eyes, she added, “Are you just going to be a bitch all night? Because I got here straight from practice, I’m tired as fuck and the last thing I want is for you t—“

“What are you doing here, then, Seulgi?” You interrupted her, feeling the anger rise on yourself too. “Don’t you have rehearsals and recordings to be too busy with? Or should I just be so fucking grateful that my girlfriend decided to grace me with her company? Am I not paying enough attention to your liking?” You usually tried your best to not be rude to others, keeping your sarcastic thoughts to yourself, but your sudden anger flared up and forged a cloud over your mind, making it hard to see clearly through it. “Should we call the others, then? The girls you spend all fucking day with?”

Seulgi rose from the table, her face heating up at your words and suggestions. You played low at that, you both knew it, but now you’ve gotten her way too pissed to think about consequences.

“What the fuck, Yn? What’s gotten into you?” She screams, leaning forward so you two were face to face, “I know it was not ideal at all to skip our dinner.” Multiple ones, you both knew it, but neither pointed it out loud. “But you know I can’t miss work. Please understand.”

Seulgi was just so mad and frustrated. Her times with you were always stress-relieving to her, but lately all you’ve been doing is either argue about minor stuff or simply not talk at all. It was taking a toll on her when it shouldn’t, not with her comeback so close and her stress levels already escalating. It wasn’t good for you either, with your crazy work routines and weekly exams at the hospital. She knew that.

But you couldn’t seem to make it work.

“What’s gotten into me?” You stood up yourself, too, towering over her. Since you were always so sweet and patient, Seulgi would often forget how much taller you were— in fact, it was one of the things she first noticed when you first met; it had gotten her attention instantly. She hated it now, though— how small it made her feel. “What’s gotten into me is that it seems like I don’t even have a fucking girlfriend anymore! You ignore me all the time like I’m just some friend and not someone who matters! I don’t even know what you’re doing half of the time, with God knows who.” You threw your hands in the air, exasperated.

Her expression turned into a scowl, and she rolled her eyes, palms curling into fists to shake the urge of grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking your insecurities away. Seulgi hated when you implied such things. You were the love of her life, and she’d never, never cheat on you, no matter how distant you were. But you were (deeply) insecure, and she knew that. She was also so, so enraged and stressed.

“Jesus, why are you always so fucking dramatic?” she was quick to snap back, defensive. “Acting like I’m going to leave you for the first person I see in the stree…” Seulgi’s words died on her mouth, immediately realizing the power of her words, making both of you gasp. She tried to reach out to you, but you pushed your chair roughly to get away from her.

Your body went rigid, countless memories of you crying to her flagged your mind. You’ve confessed to her many times about how much it bothered you to not have her around as much. You missed her deeply, and even though you trusted her completely, your mind was always playing tricks on you — not only about her, but with everything: how you weren’t enough at University, always behind your friends in grades; not interesting enough to make long last friendships, as you often saw in big groups of friends; not pretty or talented enough for your girlfriend, who was constantly around so many amazing people. That’s just how your mind worked 24/7; constantly wondering.

And now, Seulgi made sure to tell you just how much she hasn't forgotten any of that. Any of the things that made you deeply insecure.

“Get out.” You told her, hugging yourself to hide the urge of running straight to her arms.

Seulgi took a step forward, but it only made you back away twice as much. “Baby, I’m so sorry… listen, I—“

“I said get out!” You screamed this time, the tears you were fighting so hard to contain rolling freely on your face.

All the sensations you were suppressing all week erupted, boiling over your surface as you brushed past the hallway to try to get to your room, to the bathroom, anywhere small were you could be confined and finally let it all go. You were straight up sobbing now, your body hot from moving roughly alongside your heavy breathing. You were so sick of everyhting. Work, your friends, her. Her words hurt, and all you wanted was to disappear. You didn’t quite feel your body as the tears clouded your eyes, and suddenly very light, delicate hands were lifting you up —you now realized you’d simply sunk in the middle of the hallway, hugging your knees as strong as you could— and guiding you to your bedroom. Seulgi helped you to get under the covers as she lay down beside you, careful to not overwhelm you even more. When the older woman saw you’d settled down a bit, she opened her arms, making you cling onto her immediately. You knew you shouldn’t, but it was so comforting, and you loved her so much… You’d allow yourself just that, only for a few moments.

“I-I don’t want to do this anymore.” you muttered against her neck, wetting her shirt with your tears. “I’m so tired, Seulgi. I can’t.”

You felt her tense before you for brief seconds before her soothing touches went on, kissing your forehead ever so gently— almost as if you were made of glass. You certainly felt like it, at the moment. Like you were a glass full of cracks, threatening to shatter.

“Shh, it’s ok.” She cooed, running her hands under your shirt to draw small circles on your bare back, as she knew it soothed you and made you sleep almost instantly. “You’re too tired right now. Sleep, ok? I’ll be here when you wake up, then we’ll talk.”

You didn’t like the idea of talking things out with Seulgi. It would be too tiring, and maybe, just maybe… you were postponing it for so long because you feared what the outcome would be.

You were too afraid to lose her. So you’d rather leave things as they were, no matter how broken and uncomfortable they might be.

Your eyes, however, were already closing on their own, the warmth of her body making it so easy to just give in and rest.

“Okay.” You whispered, hugging her closer. “Tomorrow.”

You fell into a sleep without dreams soon enough.

-

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was how messy the right side of the bed— Seulgi’s side was. You’d missed the wrinkled sheets and how it always looked like a hurricane had passed over your bed whenever she came over, from how much she moved in her sleep. It made you smile to yourself as you got up, bare feet on the ground, while you hesitantly looked around for her, too scared to call her name out loud and find her gone.

It wouldn’t be the first time she broke a promise, after all.

You’d forgotten how much all the little things with her made you happy.

“…Hello?” You asked— secretly relieved, at the sight of your girlfriend kneeling on the ground, little wrinkles adorning her face as she tried hard to shove too many clothes on your washing machine.

She looked up, startled by the sound of your voice, but quickly smiled. “Hi. Did you have a good sleep?” Seulgi sounded genuinely concerned, making you curse yourself silently for worrying her.

Are you ok? She wanted to ask you. Seeing you so distressed had gotten her so guilty and concerned. She hated to see you like this, and it killed her to know she was to blame. I care.

“Yeah, I did, thanks.” You shrugged it off, standing awkwardly at her sides. “You don’t have to do my laundry, you know.”

“Well, someone has to.” Seulgi scoffed, rolling her eyes as she finally managed to close the machine’s door, even if with a bit of an effort.

You opened your mouth, faking being offended while bringing your hands to your heart. “I was going to do it, okay? On…”

“Saturday.” You both finished, together. Saturdays were laundry day for you, though you rarely followed your schedule through. It made you smile, to know she remembered it, and you said nothing, trying to not break the nice moment you were having.

“So, do you want to have lunch? We can go out, if you’d like.” Seulgi suggested, her tone careful as she fidgeted the hem of her big sweatshirt.

You simply stared at her, confused. Lunch? Had you really slept for that long?

“You slept for 13 hours, babe.” She clarified, looking at your confused face, making you quickly check your phone to confim the truth: it was, indeed, nearly lunchtime.

You’ve never been so grateful to be on your day off as much as you did now, or else you would’ve sure missed your pre-rounds at the hospital.

“Oh, ok.” You answered, a bit ashamed for dozing out for so long. “Let’s have lunch, then.” You realized she must’ve been skipping work, too; which was why you added, frowning. “Don’t you have to be in the company? It’s ok if you do. I can wait until nigh—“

“Don’t worry about it.” Your girlfriend clarified, motioning for you to get ready. “Let’s just have lunch, ok?”

You took a deep breath, knowing what she meant; it was urgent for the two of you to sit, talk and solve things. Giving in, you followed her, changing from your pajamas and fixing your hair as she grabbed some of your clothes (that were too big on her, as always. she loved it.) to go out.

“Ok.”

-

You played with your hands, sitting in front of Seulgi at a local restaurant near your house as you waited for your food to come. The cozy atmosphere didn’t do much to easy your discomfort, and you tried hard to not bite your (already deeply bitten) nails off. Seulgi’s eyes were trained on you, making you feel as if hundreds of tiny needles were piercing your skin through her gaze. To your surprise, not once had she checked her phone, unlike all the times you’ve been together over the last few months. Instead, her sole attention was on you, like you dreamed of so many times in those last weeks.

Now, however, her current focus only makes you want to throw up, from the nerves of the situation.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself.” She expressed, as a matter of fact. It was true, but her accusation made you defensive, eyes snapping to her as you took a deep breath.

You were tired of arguing, and this was one of your favorite places: you’d rather not cause a scene. “Seulgi.”

“Am I lying?” Your piercing gaze was enough for her to roll her eyes, hands up to show you she wasn’t looking for a fight either. “Ok, let’s not go there.” Her tone dropped an octave, “I just worry, ok? You seem to be having it pretty tough.”

She wasn’t pressuring you to say anything before the two of you actually discussed your issues— you knew it as much. It as just hard for you to express yourself, now even more to do so without crying. And you didn’t want to cry in front of her.

“This rotation has been tough, like I already knew it would be.” You told her, refusing to meet Seulgi’s eyes. “It’s ok, though. It’s nearly over, now. Things will get better, then.”

You’d talked about it before your rounds started, Seulgi remembered. Flashes of you, worried, flashed through her mind, with herself assuring you she’d be by your side to help you on each step of your journey.

The memory made her want to throw up, too.

“Look at me, baby.” You heard her say, yet you still refused to meet her eyes. Instead, you felt her hands holding yours, her touch firm. “Yn, look at me.”

You closed your eyes to prepare yourself for whatever was about to come, a few quiet moments amidst the storm of both of your minds. When you opened them, she was ready to welcome you. “I’m sorry, ok? I truly am so, so sorry for those last couple of weeks— hell, these couple of months. I’m such an idiot for leading you on like that and for not treating you like you deserve it. I love you, God, I fucking love you more than anything in this world, Yn, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” Her grip went tighter, but you didn’t care. You could only listen to her words. “I promise I’ll do better, to show you how much you matter to me. I’ll be here for you, just like you’ve always been, for me.” She murmured, taking your hands to your lips as she kissed them gently.

Little droplets of tears still threatened to fall from your eyes as your voice faltered, a bulge forming in your throat. You loved Seulgi and needed her like the air you breathed, and sure missed her every second of the day, when you weren’t together. But her distance had hurt you, deeply.

She was crying, too. You realized you’ve actually never seen her cry, in the 3 years you’ve been dating.

“Your distance really hurt.” You managed to voice it to her, between hiccups. “I-I felt like I was doing something wrong all the time.”

“You weren’t. You’d never, baby.” She reassured you, running her hands through your hair to get it out of your wet face. “It was my fault. You’re mine and I’m yours, ok? We’ll start over, and I’ll show you how much you matter to me. I won’t fuck up our relationship anymore.” She looked at you timidly, adding, “And I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, too. It was not my place to use something you confined at a moment like that. I was such a huge bitch.”

“It’s ok.” You muttered, though still hurt.

“No it’s not.” She exclaimed, serious. “It was horrible, and I’m deeply sorry for that. It’s not going to happen again. Ever.”

Instead of answering, you lunged forward, kissing her urgently— fuck the restaurant and etiquette. Seulgi kissed you with equal fervor, savoring your taste. God, she’d missed you so much.

“I love you.” You told her, smiling as you ended the kiss, leaning on the chair. She pouted, but opened a big smile as she saw yours. “And I don’t want us to end. We’ve been through so much. I want to be by your side, with anything that comes.”

“I love you more, Yn. We’ll be together, always. Nothing will fuck us up anymore. No rehearsals, recordings… nothing.” Her hands brushed your lips as she stared at your face, enamored, before adding. “Now tell me about everything I’ve missed. And I mean everything. Don’t save your words.”

You laughed at her, nodding as you quietly started from the beginning: you’ve told her every bit she missed, and Seulgi told everything about herself, too. You ate your food with content, exchanging every single moment with her until hours had passed, and you’ve decided to return home.

And as you walked in the park together, the windy breeze calmed your soul, and with your love by your side, you felt much, much better.

As it should always be.

[writingforcuteppl]

In The Stars

PAIRING: Portgas D. Ace x Reader

SUMMARY: “Now you’re in the stars, and six feet never felt so far. Here I am alone, between the heavens and the embers.”

GENRE: Angst

WARNINGS: Established relationship. Mentions of death. Swearing. SPOILERS!

WORD COUNT: 1k words

“Y/n, please, just come back to the village. You need to rest.” Marco was worried.

It’s been over a month after Ace’s death, and you don’t even dare to move from his grave. There have been times when Marco had to pick you up from the ground since that was the only way he was able to at least make you eat.

But at this point, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s tried everything, but you just keep coming back here.

“Just ten more minutes. I promise”

“We both know that’s a lie. You cannot keep doing this to yourself.”

“I just… I can’t…” This month, you’ve been silent. Speaking just when it’s strictly necessary. Not because you don’t want to, but because every time you dare to talk, you start to feel a lump in your throat. And even having a normal conversation becomes harder.

“He wouldn’t like-”

“Stop. He’s not… here…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the last word. Saying it would make it a reality, and you still couldn’t accept the fact that he was gone forever.

“You can't keep doing this. Coming here daily, sneaking out at night, just to return here. If you keep doing this, not sleeping, not eating well, you will end up dying.” you wanted to laugh at his comment. Marco used to be one of the most reckless people you knew in your entire life, and here he was, worried that you may die. 

“Don’t you think that’s… a little bit of an exaggeration?” You chuckled and tried your best to show him you could improve if you wanted.

“Don’t you even try to lie to me. Did you forget I’ve known you for as long as I’ve known Ace?” you smiled at his comment, but that smile quickly faded. Pain started to go through your chest. He was right. This wasn’t healthy anymore. You weren’t fine.

But how could you even be fine after losing the love of your life, your partner in crime? There were so many thoughts going through your head right now. Why was life unfair? Why couldn't he just run? You preferred that he was well and alive and not with you instead of him being dead for a million different reasons. It would be just better like that. At least you could live in hopes of seeing him again. The mere thought of not being able to see his beautiful eyes and pretty smile, not being able to hear his voice, and not being able to hug him ever again was heartbreaking.

You didn’t even realize when Marco sat next to you until you heard his voice way closer than before.

“I miss him too. I’ve been reliving the moment everything unfolded over and over again. Maybe I was able to do something. Maybe if I just-” Marco choked in his saliva. He was just as distraught as you were.

“You should also stop doing that to yourself, Marco'' you managed to say as tears rolled down your cheeks. The thought of living when Ace wasn’t with you anymore seemed horrible. And it looks like Marco was also beating himself up for that.

“He would be so mad at us for being like this. He would definitely tell us to stop being such crybabies,” Marco said as he smiled.

You covered your face with your hands as more tears started to fall. Fuck. How were you supposed to move on from him? Is it even possible to move on from losing someone who meant the world to you? Not only you but someone who was so important to so many people? Were you going to be able to live the rest of your life when everyone knew who Ace was? And maybe, just maybe, knowing someone could bring him up at any given moment?

“I just want to let you know I don’t think you are to blame for even something in this whole situation. You shouldn’t be beating yourself up for something that I know was his decision, Marco.” this was the first sentence you managed to say without being out of breath.

“I know, but god, he was so reckless. He just ugh…” Marco seemed tired. It was the first time you paid attention to him. These huge bags were under his eyes, and his eyes were irritated. 

“I know I can’t live like this forever. It’s just… hard, you know? Yeah, having a pirate life always meant living at risk, but I’ve always thought we would have more time with him.” Finally, your feelings and thoughts that have been eating you alive for the past month were seeing the light of day. And you knew Marco may also be feeling just as you were, with a hole in your chest. It is as if someone took the most important thing in your life. Marco wrapped one of his arms around your upper back, seeking to give you some comfort. At the end of the day, both of you were mourning the loss of someone who both of you appreciated and loved deeply. Who else would know the feeling of loss than your boyfriend’s best friend?

“It won’t be easy, for sure. But at least we got to meet someone like him. That’s the best thing. Don’t you think?” Marco sighed. He was glad to finally hear your feelings. For a reason, he thought you were blaming him, or he thought you had some resentment towards him. But he should’ve known better. You wouldn’t do that.

“I guess you’re right…”

“I’m not saying this for you to just magically get over this situation.” Somehow Marco was aware you wouldn’t like to hear the word “death,” and he wouldn’t fuck up the situation now that you were able to tell him how you were feeling, even if it’s just a little of the big waves of emotions he knows you’ve been experimenting. “But it will simply pass. And one day, you will be able to remember those moments you had with him with adoration, and you’re going to be thankful it happened.”

You stayed in silence as tears kept rolling from your cheeks. Marco was right; well, he was always right. But as for now, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to Ace just yet.

n a v i g a t i o n

[late-to-the-party-81]

What's your price?

Request: For your inspire me challenge, can I request a dark! Tony Stark x f! Reader with smut ? Reader would be a intern for SI? And he tries to flirt with her but she rejects him everytime cause she has no interest so he kidnaps her or blackmails her into being a relationship with him? 

AN: Thank you @ironlady1993 (it won't let me tag you!) for your request. This ended up being more soft!dark! than actual dark! but I hope that you still enjoy it. I haven’t written for Tony very often, but I hope this works. 

Beta’d by @buckyismybicycle

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics 

Masterlist

Relationship: Soft! Dark! Tony Stark x Naive! Intern Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

CW:Toxic Narcissist Tony, Sexual Harassment, Manipulation, Dub-con, implied smut, shifting POV

Tony was well aware that he was spoiled - he was uber-rich for God’s sake, it would be a miracle if he wasn’t. He was also aware that everything and everyone was for sale; it was just a matter of finding the right currency, and he could always afford it, no matter what it was. Just look at Pepper. 

He’d wanted her and he’d got her, all it had cost him was making her CEO of the company. She’d thought it important, but Tony hadn’t, and still didn’t. The company could fold tomorrow or never trade again, and he would continue to sit in the lap of luxury until his final breath. And even though he’d gotten bored of her, it paid to keep her sweet and let her remain in the role that she thought gave her power.

Most times it was easy to gain what he craved - for most people a direct monetary transaction was enough. However, sometimes it took a bit longer to find the right… motivator. He never minded though. These instances normally had a better payoff. Truth be told, it was a rare occurrence he had to actually put work in and he enjoyed the novelty. And what a novelty you were.

In some ways you reminded him of Pepper. You were clever, beautiful, and competent. However, with you, Tony sensed a softness, a caring and loving soul. He wondered if that’s what had been missing from his life so far? But, you also appeared to have a strong moral code. Tony could respect that, but he would admit it was getting just a little frustrating. 

He’d never had to work this hard to encourage an intern to sleep with him. In fact, he’d never really had to do anything other than ask - most people would give a limb or promise their first born child, for such an invitation. Also, not to blow his own trumpet, he was a good lover. A considerate lover. All parties came away satisfied. Yet, you seemed to not want it.

He was sure you were just playing hard to get - holding out for something more. He just had to discover what it was that you wanted from him, because everybody always wanted something from him. Everybody always had a price.

You groaned as you got out of bed and got ready for your day. Why was your life such a gigantic mess, when initially it had looked so promising? When you told people that you interned at Stark Industries, they couldn’t believe your luck. You let out a derisive snort.

Luck? Huh!

If you were so lucky, why were you living in a shitty apartment? If you were so lucky, why were you broke? And if you were so lucky, why were you having to go out of your way everyday to avoid your boss?

You knew the reason for the first two; the reason that all of your money disappeared as soon as it hit your account, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was a choice you’d made and you’d make the same choice over and over again. The third thing, though? As far as you were aware, you hadn’t done anything specific to attract his attention.

Like anyone, when you’d first met Tony Stark you were in awe. He was a genius, a billionaire and very handsome. He was charismatic, not afraid to muck in with anyone he worked with, and knew everyone’s names. However, it didn’t take you long to realise he was a raging ego-maniac, not afraid to throw a temper tantrum when he didn’t get his way. His mood could spin on a dime and you’d seen your fair share of red flags in your life to know that no matter how tempting he was - and, boy, was he - accepting your boss’s overt offer would not be a good idea.

When you’d initially turned him down, you’d been worried that you’d lose your position, but that hammer hadn’t fallen, and you’d breathed a huge sigh of relief. You had enough to worry about without adding unemployment into the mix.

With another sigh, you grabbed your keys, SI pass, purse and jacket, and headed out of your dingy accommodation towards the subway.

“Come on, Sugar-pie. What could one little drink hurt?”

You kept your eyes on the papers in front of you, trying not to roll them, as your erstwhile suitor leant over your desk, his index finger resting on the wood right next to your hand, oh-so-close to stroking your skin.

“Mr. Stark-”

“-Tony.”

You couldn’t hold back your sigh of irritation.

“Tony. I’m working. I’m busy. I have all these reports to go over.”

His hand moved away from yours, but in the next second your head was being tilted up, away from where you were studiously focusing, by pressure exerted under your chin.

Tony’s handsome face came into focus, with his sparkling whisky dark eyes, and dark brown, almost black facial hair, trimmed with precision, surrounding pink lips that twitched with amusement.

“You do know I’m the boss and I could order you not to do the reports.”

“I think you’ll find that Ms. Potts is the boss, and she’s the one who asked me to do them.”

Tony obviously didn’t have the same qualms as you about rolling his eyes in a professional setting.

“Pphht! Don’t worry about Pep. She’s only the boss cos I let her be.”

You pushed your chair back, removing your face from his touch.

“Look, Mr. Stark,” You raised your hand when he was about to protest his title, again. “I’m flattered. I really am. But I’m not interested, and I’d really just like to get on with my work. I’m sure you have more suits to tinker with and other interns to flirt with.”

He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and observed you for a moment.

“Fine. Have it your way for now, Sugar-pie.” His tone was light, amusement etched across his features, but there was an undercurrent of… something as he spoke. “I know you like me and you’re just playing hard to get. I’ll see you later.”  He turned on his heels, shoved his hands in pants pockets and walked away from your desk, jauntily whistling.

At half past five you pushed back your chair and stood, letting out a groan as you did. Your eyes were tired from going over the reports all day, and now you just had to turn them in with your overview and comments, so you could finally make your way home.

With the stash of manilla folders in hand you walked down the corridor to Pepper’s office. She’d be gone by now - she’d let you know earlier in the day that she had an external meeting and that you should just leave the reports on her desk for the next morning.

Pushing open the door, you headed towards her pristinely organised desk, placed the folders with their cover note front and centre, turned around and… screamed.

You literally jumped in the air, your hands coming up to your chest.

Tony smiled at you from where he was leaning against the bookcase next to the door.

“Hey, Sugar-pie. I know I’m a catch, but no need to jump out of your skin for me.”

He stood up and walked towards you. No, stalked towards you like a sleek leopard in the jungle, tracking its prey. You didn’t even realise you were backing up until your lower back connected with the edge of the desk.

“Umm… Mr. Stark…”

He leant one hand on the desk, next to your hip and raised the other to press a finger to your mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Tony. And are we going to go get that drink?”

Frustration welled within you.

“And how many times do I have to tell you, Mr Stark, that I’m not interested.”  You pushed away from him and made your way towards the door, but were halted in your tracks by what he said next.

“Not even to help your grandmother?”

You didn’t turn, but your hands tensed into fists.

“What did you say?” The words left your lips as an angry hiss.

“Your grandmother. She’s in that crappy hospital in Queens, right?”  You felt him come up behind you, his breath hitting your ear from how close he was. “She’s not doing too well, is she? I’m sure I could make her a lot more comfortable. Move her to a better hospital here in Manhattan. The best doctors, the best nurses.”

Tony’s hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking where your blouse met the waistband of your pencil skirt, yet you didn’t pull away and anger flared within you, directed at yourself for not moving. His body shifted even closer so his front pressed against your back, and you could feel his arousal. 

Bile burned your throat. This was all wrong, yet… you were considering it. Considering prostituting yourself because, dammit, Tony could make a big difference to your grandmother’s remaining days. And would it really be that bad? You’d heard the rumours of his bedroom prowess, and you did find him attractive.

“W-what would happen? When you get bored?”

“You think I’d get bored of you, Sugar-pie? Don’t put yourself down.” His hands slid around your waist and you lowered your eyes, unable to resist watching as he placed his left one on your stomach and his right underneath, his be-ringed pinky finger resting on your mound. “But to illustrate a point, Pepper’s still CEO isn’t she? That was her price. Yours is care and safety for your grandmother.”

You almost baulked at it being put so bluntly, but Tony’s arms held you firm. “Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone has their price and I’m more than willing to pay yours. Your grandmother could live another hundred years and it wouldn’t make a dent in my bank account.”

“You could just do it out of the goodness of your heart then, if the money means so little.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

His head came even closer and he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, over your pulse point, threatening to rip away the last shred of your morals and self-control.

“This is manipulation, Mr. Stark.”

“Think of it more as a business transaction if it makes you feel better.” He placed a second kiss on your now heated skin and you bit your lip. “I’ll be good to you, Sugar-pie. You’ll be on my arm, dressed as befits beauty such as yours. Other men will want you, but you’ll forget all about them when you’re in my bed.”

He started to sway, moving your body with his. His right hand lowered, fully resting over your sex, gently cupping it. Again, you didn’t pull away, didn’t make any move to dissuade him. You should be though. Your moral compass was screaming at you, but your body was ignoring it in favour of the dizzying sensations that even these few small touches were eliciting and your mind was hurriedly weighing up your options.

“So… just to recap… I date you, publicly. Be your arm candy, warm your bed, and you move my grandmother to the best facility in Manhattan, and will continue to pay for her comfort and care, even if she outlives your interest in me. What if she passes away before then?”

You hadn’t even agreed to his proposition, but his right hand was slowly pulling up your skirt, the fabric concertina-ing around your abdomen, and his left was deftly undoing button after button on your blouse. You realised that your own hands were no longer balled into fists or lying limply at your sides - they were clutching at the outside of his thighs, anchoring yourself to him.

“Then you would be free to end our association, unless we came to some other arrangement. However, I’d like to think that you wouldn’t want to, though. That you would be so enraptured by my attention, my care, that you’d never want to leave.”

As he started to drag the woven cotton from your left shoulder, you instinctively tilted your neck, giving him greater access to your skin. An involuntary sigh escaped your lips as his mouth travelled over your shoulder, his facial hair tickling your skin.

You screwed your eyes shut, knowing that this was the point of no return. He’d already won. He knew it. You knew it.

“I- I agree, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, Sugar-pie. You really have to use my name now. At least in public. If you prefer another title for private, I’m quite happy with Sir, or even Daddy.”

Oh fuck! Just the thought of using one of those, of submitting to him in such a way was sending you into free fall. You hated how easily you’d succumbed. However, you were jerked out of it, when Tony suddenly took a step back from you.

You whirled around in shock, clothing completely dishevelled. Tony had his phone to his ear, acting for all the world as though he didn’t have an erection straining the fabric of his designer suit jacket.

“Happy? Yes, get it all sorted, please. An agreement has been made.”

The conversation was short and pointed, ending after a few seconds, and Tony tossed his phone onto Pepper’s desk before reaching up to loosen his tie and pop the top button of his shirt. Then, in one stride he was back in front of you, his left arm around your waist, pulling you to him, and his right brushing over your hair. You looked up at him, saw the twitch of his lips and felt yourself pulled into the depths of his eyes.

“Now, where were we, Sugar-pie?”

His lips descended and just before his kisses made you entirely senseless, you wondered if you’d regret this decision. You hadn’t ever thought things would turn out like this, but it turned out you had a price after all.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

[14muffinz]

@blackfire-fanfiction it's 2am, but here's the fic as promised

first week

words: 2169

Notes: i didn’t remember the rise timeline, so i’m just going in the order on wikipedia. There’s a lot of food mentions because i forgot to eat dinner and i got hungry. Sue me.

~~~

it’s a bit weird right? that over there we’re almost fifteen, and then over here we’re almost fourteen? wonder how that worked out

shit, right. this is supposed to be important info only, sorry

Leon’s pretty sure that it’s pure luck that’s holding the page of the notebook together. He’s written down so many things in preparation of swapping, only to wake up the next day still in ‘his’ body, and have to erase it all.

The body’s not actually his. There’s a bit of a silent agreement that he belongs in this world and the other guy belongs in the other, just because that’s usually where they are. The longest Leon’s ever been on the other end was a couple of weeks, he doesn’t know those brothers like he knows the ones here.

Plus, no hate to the other guy and whatever he’s got going for himself, but it’s weird and wrong to be the same age as Raph and Mikey. To somehow be the soft spoken one, even though that’s almost the complete opposite of who Leon is.

The switching’s been more frequent than normal as of late. It’s got them both on edge, from what Leon can tell. Unfortunately, you can only write so fast in a notebook, and apparently the other guy’s barely touched a keyboard so even if they could find a way to stop Donnie from hacking everything tech-y that they own, it wouldn’t be any faster. But they have talked about it, sort of. Mostly about who has taken notice, with maybe one or two theories thrown in.

Good news, countdowns ticking. They’re about to be fifteen in the other world, and Leon just has a feeling that something’s going to happen over there. He doesn’t want the other guy to miss out on that, so he’s doing anything he can to stay up, even though he’s not entirely sure if that’ll prevent a switch or not.

He was planning on staying up late either way, if he’s honest. After all, fifteen over there means that he and Donnie are about to be fourteen over here, and that’s pretty important. Leon, for several reasons, does not know if he’s actually fourteen, but it’s the thought that counts.

At about five minutes to midnight, Donnie lifts up the curtain leading into Leo’s room, settling himself next to Leo on the bed, and silently handing over a party horn. Leo very, very carefully sliders the notebook underneath his sheets.

Right as the clock strikes twelve, in a mutual silent agreement, they blow into the horn, the paper uncurling and making no noise at the end. Damn, that’s overwhelming.

“I blew first,” they both say in perfect sync, before turning two glares on one another. There’s no way to prove it, as always, but Leon will fight for his status as the older twin, please and thank you. With nothing to decide it for them, they usually resort to things like rock paper scissors or who can do something first games. They never warn each other, either, it only adds to the fun.

One of the many reasons that Leon prefers his Donnie to the other one. He might pretend to be all distant and cool, but he’s still Leon’s twin and it doesn’t seem like he plans on dropping that title any time soon. But other Donnie spends most of his time cooped up in his lab with the small amount of materials he has, or with other Mikey. Having the ‘twin’ interactions with other Raph just isn’t the same.

“Considering I am wearing my glasses and have been caffeinated, it’s reasonable to assume that I would have a quicker reaction time than you.”

“We both I have the better reaction time, Dontron,” Leon argues. “And that I’m much faster than you.”

“Lies.”

“Are they?”

⠀

⠀

The surface is weird over here. Like, it’s cool finally seeing what’s above this lair, but it was hard trying not to act underwhelmed. The other world’s a lot more colourful. I have a feeling you won’t like it up there.

They finally tried pizza, and thank goodness they are hooked. I don’t think I could last too much longer on algae and worms, haha. Definitely need to track down Mike Tony Lou’s, though, I need to get them hooked before it’s too late.

Onto the good stuff! We are very, very close to figuring out what mutated us. We found another canister tonight! And a lot of other stuff, make sure that nobody else bothers you before you read this because it is a lot.

“You doing your writing again?”

Leo can’t help but jump, looking out his open bedroom door, where Donnie is peering in. He winces, frantically shutting the worn and slightly water-stained notebook shut, sliding it underneath his covers before Donnie realises that it’s one he stole from Raph. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Cool.” Donnie pauses for a moment, before continuing as though nothing happened. “Do you want breakfast?”

No. Absolutely not. Ever since the first time he’d had real food in the other world he has not liked eating over here. It’s disgusting. Why are his brothers still okay with eating algae and worms?

“What time’s it?”

Donnie barely hesitates before responding, “Nine-ish.”

“I’m going to sneak out,” Leo decides. It’s prime pizza hour! He can’t ignore that!

“Are you crazy?” Donnie hisses.

Ehn, maybe. Not that he can tell his brother that. Leo just wants to have some bread, so that he has a reason to ask for a toaster, so that he can have toast. Master planning, very important leader stuff that he’s thinking about.

“If Dad doesn’t know, he can’t yell at me,” Leo decides. That’s not the card he’ll usually play in this dimension, but sometimes a little misbehaviour for the sake of the greater good (his family’s taste buds) is worth it.

Donnie considers this. Leo can’t tell how serious he is, his brother mostly just looks tired. “Good luck.”

He proceeds to walk away.

Leo goes back to updating his other self on the Kraang situation.

⠀

⠀

… I’m not entirely sure what happened to S.B, actually, just that he made it out of that fight. One of us should probably bring that up to our brothers. He could cause problems.

By the way, we have cereal finally. You’re welcome. Make sure Raph gets his first, you know how he is.

Leon stares down at the notebook, shocked by all the stuff detailed in his other self’s ramble about the last two weeks-or-so. It was a lot, and Leon doesn’t think that the weird shapeshifting dudes and creepy lab guy really hold up in comparison.

He crams the notebook between his mattress and the wall, before beginning to stretch his fingers and toes, adjusting himself to the unnaturally large hands that this body is stuck with. He swears, if it weren’t for the switching, one of them would never have heard of wrists or ankles, because they barely exist in this body.

For the first time in a while, he’s not ready to face the day. So many unknowns have just been thrown at him, and he’s not sure how casual to be about them. Silence is always an option, but Leon’s not a quiet guy. He’s the jokester, the face man! Even without the eye bananas from the other body that he loves oh-so-very much, he wants to keep that role here.

Not the leader.

Goddammit, other Leo. If you were that jealous of Ra– big Raph, why didn’t you just say so?

The differences are apparent pretty much the moment he steps into the main area of the lair. Mikey is sitting in the pit with a plate that only has two slices of bread on it, and he’s biting into the third. In this Mikey’s usual chaotic neutral fashion, he’s biting right into the side, crust and all. Beside him, Donnie is leaning over his own notebook, scribbling something down frantically.

It’s not, like, weird or anything, but last time Leon was here, algae and worms were pretty much the only thing these guys ate and Donnie would usually be in his own space rather than in the pit while he works.

He’s good at rolling with things, though, and he’s too hungry to care.

Slipping into the kitchen without offering a good morning, Leon comes across Raph leaning against the counter with a bowl of cereal in his hand. He’s practically asking to spill it, wow.

“Morning,” Raph greets shortly.

“Morning,” Leon returns, already looking around the room trying to identify which cabinets have probably been filled with actual food. One of the worst parts about swapping is not knowing where anything is, like that one time his other self washed his mask and forgot to tell Leon and so he spent the entire morning tracking it down.

Whatever, the biggest one probably has something in it. Raph doesn’t seem to care that much anyways.

“Hey dudes!” Mikey shouts from the other room. “Wanna try and set up a ramp for a bit? I’m bored!”

Heck. Yes. Leon misses the giant ramps from back home, like, all the time. He’s going stir crazy in here! All the time. All the time. Trust him on this.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds eagerly.

Hopefully other April plans on coming over together, he really wants to meet her. He’s been wondering if there’s an April here or not, and he finally has an answer.

⠀

⠀

so those green bugs kinda sorta came back out the portal thing with us. and went everywhere. so that is a bit of a problem, and we don’t really know how to handle it yet. another mutant popped up btw, a pig dude. really weird, 0/10 would not recommend fighting

you also missed the rat flu by like two days. don’t ask raph what happened, because he is a lying liar who lies, but fingers crossed that you’re around for it next year

we’re going out to see a wrestling match wednesday night, no april

The nice part about this world is that Leo can spend two minutes reflecting on what he just read with his head in his hands, just trying to make sure he read that all right. He’s not sure what he was expecting when he showed up, considering how his own week’s been, but it definitely wasn’t this.

He’d thought that the whole brain aliens thing had upped his weirdness tolerance, but an entire magic city underneath New York is pushing it a lot. As is the teleporting dog/cat, sentient vines(?), and all the other madness that his other self has apparently dealt with.

But you know what? This is the dimension where he’s able to speak his mind without getting weird looks. If he told these brothers that this is insane, he’s pretty sure at least one of them would agree with him.

Leo rushes up the stairs and skids into the kitchen, being greeted by the wonderful smell of this Mikey’s cooking. Absolutely the best part of showing up here is the pleasant wakeups. As much as he loves training (he loves it, he loves it so much, even when Raph is constantly showing him up) sometimes it’s nice to just have a peaceful morning.

“Morning Leo!” Mikey greets happily, moving around the kitchen expertly.

For how much the other Leo wrote down this week, very little seems to have changed.

“We have anything planned today?” He asks, hoping that he sounds more tired than quiet. Leo’s not the loudest person unless he’s quoting something, but the other guy is and he spends more time in this body, so Leo just has to deal.

Mikey shrugs. “Raph wants us to head topside tonight and do more hero stuff, probably. I think that he should be saving his energy for when we watch the match tomorrow.”

Raph wants to do hero stuff? Really? Raph from the other world spends most patrols complaining about how Leo leads the team, or just having to waste time patrolling in general. Which is weird, because Leo knows that those brothers are excited by being topside, including Raph. (Maybe this is something he should prompt his other self about?)

For the next few minutes, he’s left awkwardly standing around as Mikey finishes up a batch of pancakes, trying to think of any more questions that he needs to ask before he starts the day. He has several questions about what’s happened on this side of things in relation to those bugs, that secret city, and more, but he doesn’t know how to ask without sounding suspicious quite yet. He’ll just have to go off of context clues.

“You look tired,” Mikey notes as they both finally settle around the table.

He does? Whoops. It’s not the first time this Mikey’s said that to him, so maybe it’s just a swapping thing.

“I’m fine,” he responds.

~~~

more

[goldaegontargaryen]

The Judge of Innocence: @black-queen-rising

Deep down, Aegon was afraid.  He told himself he had nothing to worry about.  He was innocent and surely that would be proven in the end.  He gave himself all types of excuses: Rhaenyra knew he wouldn’t dare hurt Helaena by inflicting the grief of Rhaenyra’s death upon her, Aegon didn’t know a thing about poisons, and finally, most importantly of all, Aegon had never had any desire to be king.  He could hardly contemplate having used those horrible weeks leading up to their father’s death to have planned out an assassination to happen on the day of the funeral.  Aegon could hardly believe anyone could be that cruel, though he should know better than to underestimate the lengths of cruelty power drove people towards.  All of his excuses did little to soothe his nerves.  He was certain it was only a matter of time until he was at least questioned, if not accused.  

For that reason, he was unsurprised when one of Rhaenyra’s ladies approached him to inform him that he had been summoned by the Queen.  Aegon froze, before mutely nodding his head in response and resigning himself to his fate.  He should have left the Red Keep while he still had the opportunity.  He’d mentioned to a few close friends that he wanted to leave before the coronation, though it was an idea he’d yet to bring up to Helaena.  He knew she wouldn’t like the idea of missing one of the most important moments of their elder sister’s life, especially not so soon after such a terrifying moment.  Aegon had contemplated for days the best way to convince her they would be safer on Dragonstone, but Helaena saw him as better than he was.  She would underestimate the assumptions made about his guilt.  

He told himself it was a good sign Rhaenyra had sent one of her ladies instead of someone of the King’s Guard, but even that eventually started to feel ominous.  Aegon had a decent relationship with many Kingsguard members, but Rhaenyra’s ladies were fiercely loyal to her almost exclusively, or at least none of them held any particular loyalty to him.  Besides, Helaena and his children were somewhere in the castle and Rhaenyra would know he wouldn’t flee without them by his side.  What need was there for a guard when Aegon was already perfectly trapped?  

Aegon was led to the outer door to Rhaenyra’s chambers where the lady gave him a quick nod before heading back out into the hall.  Aegon stood there for a few moments, heart pounding desperately in his chest.  Finally, he forced himself to knock lightly before he pushed the door open.  Aegon glanced over his sister quickly, taking in her appearance and feeling relieved she did not look as unwell as people had been whispering.  In fact, she looked like she was getting closer to becoming her usual self, a bit tired perhaps, but clearly not anywhere near death’s door.  

Aegon paused, unsure of what to say.  “I hope you’re doing well.  I would have come to see you, but I didn’t want to strain your recovery with my company.”  He figured Rhaenyra knew he was lying about the last bit, but that was a usual game between them.  “I’m very happy to see you’re doing better.”  That was a truth.  The silence between them stretched and Aegon couldn’t tell in his anxiety if it had been only a few seconds or close to a minute.  Before he could stop himself, he was already blurting out, “I promise it wasn’t me.  I would never do that to you."

[loserscanwritetoo]

Starman

Chapter 3

TW: Description of a panic attack, mention of past su1cid3 attempt

Nico wouldn’t say that he was a pessimist, but after the awkward run-in with SunBoy last night he would be lying if he said he didn’t run back home and barged into Hazel's room.

The past day had been alright. Turns out Hazel wasn’t a bitch, just an introvert who quite literally had no idea what to do with a big brother, and honestly, Nico wasn’t sure how to behave now either. He knew, realistically, that they would never have a ‘normal’ sibling relationship, but he still hoped, somewhere deep down, that they might become somewhat normal over town. 

Hazel was nice, and Nico liked most of her friends. Frank wasn’t too bad either. Apparently he was just shy with a resting bitch face. 

However kind her friends may be, Nico knew that he would never feel safe with them. You know when you meet a new person, and you badly want you to click, but something is just a little bit off? That’s how Nico felt with Hazel's friends, but it would work. He really just needed to get through two years, and then he’d graduate and be able to move back home, and go back to his solitude. That was a safe plan, and he’d stick to it. He wasn't going to let some half sister get between him and his goal, and he definitely wouldn’t let a guy ruin it for him.

He’d let guys ruin things for him since even before he realized he was gay. There was the italian guy in the playground in preschool, the mysterious foodie in middle school, and numerous other crushes that he had promised never to tell anyone about. Well, he’d told Bianca, but that didn’t count. He’d told Bianca everything.

He never ended up telling his mom though. She had a tendency to be a bit old fashioned, and Nico didn’t want to risk losing her. He had planned to tell her once he had moved out, but that was before the accident. 

Sometimes he found himself talking out loud, as if his family was still with him. Sometimes he cried, because he wished it would’ve been him and not them. Bianca was a genius, both academically and socially. Nico had always just been her weird little brother, who cut his own hair because he hated hairdressers, and only wore clothes a size too big, because he didn't want anyone to look at him. She had a bigger reason to live. Nico was just… kind of there. Didn't do much, didn't say much, and didn’t make much of an impression on anyone.

That’s why he had been so uncomfortable when he saw that Will was watching him in the graveyard. That was Nico at his most vulnerable, and Will had forced himself into his bubble. 

“You will not believe what just happened!” He thumped down on Hazel's bed, realizing a little too late that Hazel was in the middle of a facetime call with Annabeth.

“Good evening to you too Nico” she replied with a sigh. It looked like Annabeth was about to say something, but Nico interrupted her.

“Not now Annabeth, this is a missing-fathers-only conversation”. Annabeth opened her mouth, probably to protest, but Nico leaned over Hazel and hung up the phone.

“Nico, I swear to god, if this is not super important I will kill you. We were busy talking”

“Yeah, yeah, Luke’s an asshole, I’ve heard” Hazel glared at him, but Nico just rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of hearing about Luke, especially when no one seemed to want to tell him what he had actually done that was so bad. 

“So I was in the graveyard-”

“No normal person hangs out in the graveyard.” Hazel interrupted.

“Shut up. As I was saying, I was in the graveyard,” He felt his breathing speed up and his limbs starting to vibrate. “And I’m talking to Bianca and mom” He felt like a weight was put over his chest “and then all of a sudden Will fucking Solace is there and he’s watching me, and probably thinking I’m crazy, and I really don’t want him thinking that because I’m not crazy, or am I?” He tried to form more words, but his mouth was so dry, and it was like all of a sudden no words made sense, and he couldn't form sentences, he felt like his head was being dunked underwater, and Hazel seemed to seep further and further away.

He could see her opening her mouth, watched her talk, but he couldn’t hear her, and then she was gone and he was left alone in her room. It seemed to shrink more and more as every second ticked by, and he was afraid it would kill him, crush him down into a fine powder, and then finally he would join mom and Bianca again, and he wouldn't be so alone.

He was so alone. So very alone. It was just him against the world.

He felt a lump form in his stomach, and before he had time to react he threw up all over Hazel’s floor. He was startled by the sound of a door slamming open, and he felt someone hold him, talking to him in a soothing voice, but he couldn't hear the words. Then a hand was pressed against his chest, and he noticed it wasn't moving. He wasn’t breathing. How do you even breathe?

The hand moved up into the air, and then down again, over and over again, until Nico realized his chest was supposed to follow it, and it did.

Slowly he seemed to come back to reality, and he realized he was sobbing. Hazel was holding him, and handed him a glass of water. She clearly didn’t know how to handle this, and Nico’s heart sank. He had just come crashing into her life, and now here she was, sitting on her floor, surrounded by his vomit, trying to comfort someone she’d known for less than a day. He realized she was speaking, but her voice was laced in concern.

“Hey, I’ve got you. I’m here.” Nico tried to answer, but no words came out, so he just leaned into her touch and cried. Cried for the first time since the funeral. Felt all of the feelings he had done his best to ignore for months.

He cried out of anger. Anger for that drunk driver who had separated him from his family. 

Out of sadness, because he would never see his mom or Bianca ever again.

And out of embarrassment, because Hazel saw him like this. No one was supposed to see him like this. Not even Bianca had seen him like this. God, how he missed her. He would do anything to be with her again.

Hazel grabbed his hand, and he realized he'd been stroking the ugly, horizontal scars on his wrists. Now she was crying too. He had ruined everything, and he just wanted to sink into the ground.

Those scars were his biggest shame. He had been drunk, and angry, and sad, and willing to do anything to be with his family again. He had sworn never to do anything like it ever again

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m so fucking sorry” Hazel tried her best to steady herself before replying with a shaky breath,

“Don’t apologize for feeling things. How can I help you?”

“You can’t”

“Let me in, Nico. You don't have to be alone in this.”

And so Nico talked, and he didn't stop until the early hours of the morning. When the siblings finally fell asleep, holding each other, Nico felt a little lighter. Hazel was good. He was going to give this a chance.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Hazel's alarm went off at 6 am, and Nico rubbed his eyes desperately. It was so early, and he felt like he had only slept for a minute or two. Next to him, Hazel groaned, before falling out of her bed, letting out a little yell. Nico couldn't stop himself from laughing, and Hazel glared at him before kicking him out of her room to get dressed.

Nico took a quick shower and found some clean-ish clothes in a moving box that he had never bothered to unpack. It still smelled of his home back in Italy, and he took a minute to breathe it in before downstairs where she was met by Hazel and Marie. 

He grabbed a sandwich and got into his car. It was a crappy RV, that barely even ran anymore, but he had bought it with his first paycheck, and he loved it. 

Since it was his, nobody could stop him from smoking in it, so naturally, he lit a cigarette. Hazel joined him and they sat in silence as Nico finished his smoke. When he had put it out, he glanced at her, considering telling her his biggest secret.

“Don’t you even dare apologize for last night”

“I wasn’t going to! It’s just, I want to tell you something,” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m gay.” Hazel hesitated for a second before replying

“Cool. Are you gonna make sure we get to school on time?” She smiled at him, and Nico mirrored her response before rushing off in a speed that definitely wasn’t legal, but he didn't care. He had a sister. He wasn’t alone. She might not be Bianca, but right now, Hazel felt just as safe.

[moonflowers-and-sunrays]

breaking and entering (idk if i even need to like tag that or whagever but yeah! just in case)

Ugh.

She hated work.

Every day, it was the same: beat some heroes, sneer at them. Sometimes she even added some flirtatious banter, but it never went anywhere. Not that she wanted it to.

It was so dull.

The villain grabbed the left side of her jaw, tilting her head the opposite way, forcing it to pop under the pressure.

She wasn’t a shallow person. Sure, the current batch of sprightly vigilantes weren’t the sweetest eye-candy, but their personalities were sour too. After winning fights, they wouldn’t rub it in her face. After losing, they wouldn’t crawl on the ground in shame. They would fight, and when it was over, they’d walk back to whatever hole they crawled out of.

It was so obnoxious.

The street was dark, besides the occasional streetlight leaving reflections on the ebony road below. ATM machines appeared in front of closed coffee shops and cookie cutter oak trees dotted the sidewalk. The air had a bit of a bite to it, and certainly Villains nose was bright red.

How embarrassing.

Luckily, there was no one around to see it.

She had started at her latest fight, which she had gotten out of with no injuries (save for a bloody nose), and ten minutes later she was at her apartment, nodding at the doorman and making her way to the elevator. The floor was lined with velvety green carpeting, which wouldn’t be tacky if the walls weren’t. They were covered in portraits of women from the 20s, all made of plastic.

How Villain ended up living there, she’ll never know.

She walked into the elevator, acknowledging the operator with a nod and a “4, please”. The button dinged and she heard a whirring noise as she was taken to the fourth floor.

The elevator dinged as the doors released and Villain walked out. She followed the trail of ugly fluorescent lights until she found the door labeled 204, turned her key until the lock clicked, and swung open the door.

That’s weird. I don’t remember leaving the lights on.

More than weird, actually. Nothing was a coincidence when you’re the most well known villain in the state.

She walked into the foyer, her hand quietly powering up at her side. Her feet were like mice, completely silent.

Just then, from behind her, her office chair spun around.

“Hey honeybun. Your wallpaper is ugly as fuck.”

Villain whipped around, firing a laser right next to Hero’s head.

“GAHH!!”

Her shocked expression calmed a bit when she saw it was hero.

“Hey, watch it! At least take me out to dinner first.”

Thoughts fired through Villains head so quickly, one could actually see the gears turning.

Suddenly, she jolted and ran to her bedroom. “MY PLANS!”

“For the freeze ray? Read ‘em. You’re missing a conductor in the second valve on the right.”

Villain stopped. “Oh. What about my-“

“Love potion? Add less rosemary and a little more cinnamon. Stir it clockwise.”

“Well-“

“I also read about the llama pants. I’m a little concerned about your thought process, but i would maybe say don’t use maple syrup.”

Villain stood like a deer in the headlights.

"So-"

"Why am I here-," Hero interrupted, "Good question. Basically-"

Villain sighed. "Save it, Hero. Go find another Villain to mess with. Granted, they wont tolerate you for as long as I have, but maybe that's a good thing."

Hero jokingly frowned. "Heyyy!! Not nice. And I'm here for an important reason, if you'll let me speak."

"Hero, I can promise you, I don't care. Now leave." Villain furrowed her brow, concentrating, as her irises turned purple.

Hero noticed. "Hey, wait, no! Stop, stop, stop, you'll really want to hear this I promise!"

A purple energy surrounded their body as they slowly floated above where they were sitting and towards the door.

"Sorry Hero. I've missed fighting you, I guess. Let's do this again sometime. Toodles!" Hero's body was halfway out the door when they started holding onto the frame, grimacing as they used all their strength to hold on.

"You're starting to really bug me." Villain stared at Hero's fingers, concentrating, moving each one off the doorframe, one by one, until they only had one hand holding on.

"Villain!! Its about Sidekick!"

Immediately, the purple color faded from Hero's body and they dropped to the floor with a groan. "My back..."

Villain, however, wasn't amused. Her face fell, and her eyes widened in shock.

"Sidekick...?"

[science-lings]

Can’t promise it’ll make you mad lol! Also English is not my first language so forgive me if things don’t make sense. So, what if we had an ocarina of time situation where someone creates a new timeline via time travel, but the old timeline remains but without that person in it, let me explain. At the beginning of the game, link and Zelda would be in their original botw timeline, but when Zelda time travels and Rauru takes link in his portal thing, the created a new timeline where things are a bit different. The sheika don’t seem to have as much importance, the champions aren’t really mentioned, some locations have been changed slightly( for example, the base of where hateno tower uses to be is flat, a new ruined building appeared at akala citadel , the owl statue where mineru guides you near dueling peaks). Which would mean that when they accidentally created that new timeline, they left their old one undefended, and Nintendo could play into that and make a windwaker type of game for that timeline where hyrule fell to evil and a new hero has to rise to bring hyrule back to peace. Now, of course there are a lot of things that wouldn’t make sense if that theory was true, but I think that it would be an acceptable, maybe fun, way to explain why totk feels so disconnected from botw

no that's cool, and kinda makes sense. Especially from a story telling standpoint bc the past in totk is heavily mirroring the early parts of oot when Ganondorf 'subjigates' himself to the King of Hyrule, and the Zelda of that time, the Sage of Time, is warning him against trusting Ganondorf. While in oot, the king didn't believe her, but in totk, Rauru knew of Ganondorf's intentions but still made the mistake of keeping him so close. It's around this time that the split happened in oot, Link coming back from the adult timeline to warn everyone about Ganondorf's true plan, and those clear parallels have to happen for a reason.

I think that the timeline most likely would've split when Zelda first got a hold of Rauru's secret stone, or even before. bc Ganoncorpse would've had to have seen Zelda in the past to know her and Link's names and about the master sword. And we don't know what the world around them looked like before that.

We already know that Mineru figured out the sheikah's warping technology which would've caused a little bit of a paradox if the shiekah tech golden age happened afterward.

So the timeline would've had to split long ago but corrected itself in time for totk, that way it can still be canon to botw (though missing a lot of the shiekah tech) but still have the events of the great calamity still be the same and have references to the tech still exist (champions helmets, I think one of the tech labs still has guardian parts, cherry, and the towers having the little clawed guardian arms)

I call this, the vertical lemon timeline theory, or the divorce and remarriage timeline theory, no need to applaud me, I know I'm a genius /j

[ellesliterarycorner]

How to Title your Story

Ah, titles. Unfortunately, every book has to have a title. Some people spend years obsessing over the perfect title for their book. I wouldn’t say it’s that important, but titles do carry a lot of weight. Titles are just like our own names. Certain names conjure certain images, and certain titles conjure certain images as well. Do you want your audience to think of a spooky, mystery thriller when they hear the title of your book, or do you want them to think of a comforting rom-com novel? Even though we shouldn’t just a book by it’s title or it’s cover, I would be a liar if I said that I had never picked up a book simply because the title sounded super cool. Now that doesn’t always work out, but that’s just how people are. We’re more likely to pick up something that looks interesting or sounds interesting. Your title is the reader’s first impression of your writing, so to pull those readers in, here are some tips for titling your story!

Brainstorm, Brainstorm, Brainstorm!!

Brainstorming is good advice for pretty much anything! Sometimes you instantly think of something that is the most amazing title, and other times you have a list of 20 or 30 that you need to wittle down to that one perfect title. Ask yourself questions about the book. Is there a certain theme or motif that you really want to be a part of the title? Or does the story revolve around a singular character that will eventually give the series its name? It honestly depends on what you want your story to project, and what you want readers to feel when they the title. I would say that coming up with titles is a great place to use your trusty beta readers! If you’re really torn between two prospective titles, you could ask beta readers which title they feel fits the book better having read it. If you’re still in the early title brainstorming phase, you could ask your beta readers to come up with a word or a phrase that they think really represents the book and go from there!

Don’t Be Basic About It

We’ve all been there before: you just finished reading the most incredible book in the whole world. Well-rounded characters, an amazing plot, and absolutely perfect wordbuilding. You know that it is your duty to share this amazing book with your friends. Yet, as you go to tell your best friend about the perfectness that is this book, you forget the title. Never fear, you promise to text them the title. Alas! You forget to text them when you get home. The book has lost a potential reader, and your friend has lost the chance to make his life better. A missed opportunity for all. Real talk though, sometimes you geuinnely cannot remember the title of a book because the title just wasn’t that memorable even if the book was. Especially in today’s publishing climate (which I talk more about later), a lot of book titles sound really similar. It’s getting harder to come up with an orginal title because publishers seem to want all the book titles to be relatively uniform. Choose a title that your readers will instantly remember forever. I didn’t necessarily love the Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, but that is one book title I will never forget. Also, when you’re thinking of titles, maybe do a quick Google search to see if a super popular book already has that title. Book titles aren’t copyrighted, I don’t think, so you could use a name already used by a popular book, but you probably should steer clear of them!

Maybe A Sprinkle of Foreshadowing??

Not only do titles draw readers into your story, some titles also give the reader a little bit of a glimpse of what they should expect from your book. Say what you will about Agatha Christie, but for the most part all of her books have very straightforward titles. Now, part of that is reflective of the time she wrote it, but also being forthright can be a good thing. If a book is titled Murder on the Orient Express, it would most definitely be reasonable to expect someone to get murdered on the Orient Express. The reader knows exactly what to expect, and they can’t get bamboozled when inevitably, someone does get murdered on said Orient Express. Of course, your titles can also still have the same meaning, but be a little bit more philosophical in nature. I love when I read a book completely not understanding the title, but then I finally finish the book, and now I have a completely new understanding and appreciating for the writer. There’s also that lovely little aha moment when a character finally says the title of the book in the book, or if the title references an object, when that object finally appears!

Elle’s Bonus Tip: Don’t Worry About It

Honestly, the best advice is to not worry about it! Especially if you do end up going the traditional publishing route, there is a very high chance that your publisher/agent/editor will change the title that you may have worked incredibly hard to come up with it. It’s jut the way things are, and it’s actually one my biggest gripes with YA publishing (especially fantasy) at the moment. It seems like the title of every book that comes out is some variation of ‘Of (something) and (something).’ It’s a publishing trend that I’m honestly not all that fond of. But, the point of that mini-rant is that placeholder titles are perfectly acceptable for the long-run if traditional publishing is your goal. My newest WIP that I’ll be writing for NaNoWriMo in November is placeholdered (not a real word, ik) as Project Starlight. It’s my newest project, and it takes place in space which makes me think of starlight. Boom! Project Starlight. Don’t overthink it or stress about it!

[30306-home]

i got these rolls of 8mm film from j.robinson… the second time in ‘21 that, so i typically, i ran into him- no way out… it was okay though bc he was a lot nicer than the first time (which i’m having trouble getting to- and involved news of awful thing hope had done (when i do get there, and i guess thing is kind of a backwards segway, the biggest thing is that i… this really wouldn’t be important unless i had a really good reason to get it out, and embarrassing her or anything like that is the very very very last thing i thing i want to happen- maybe it’s even beyond the point of her name being attached anyway, and more about the repercussions in that have been so massive for me. it’s not something to just adapt to it and time has been everything but helpful. it’s not even a “healing” type thing. it’s like a broken thing that i am left all the little pieces everywhere i look and it’s not a thing i can let get the best of me, like it has- but is positively not sustainable, i’m out of patience, i can’t get too tired or angry or scared or intimidated to give in . i don’t have another plan (in general, it’s not a “plan” bc that implies that “changing” an option. there’s tons and tons of room to move around and have nothing predictable, as a “plan” would). there’s no way i’d let anything so trivial force my life in any direction that takes away that kind of choice, and it never had any business here in the first place.

i was saying, the film strips… i didn’t finish that part, but i started talking for whatever it’s worth.

back to finish that thought:

the, i retrieved 8mm film, i do not have tons of them that are already on reels and at j. rs’s house- he’s not keeping me from them- i’m not keeping him from his baby book, we just never did that part, and, i’m sorta glad bc there’s even been time to really talk about anything, what’s up (no i honestly don’t think either of us can answer that and or are settle with its lingering, complexity of such a multifaceted relationship- one that’s never faced interference like this, others up in it’s business, being taken advantage of- in every way but the best interest of either of us. more later, but it was a success and yes, hope involved herself…as far as she knows and needs to know it was a success. problem is, besides slighting is both (accidentally/unknowingly j.ro, aimed (why?) at me), by the time that was put together, the tributaries have traveled far.

please consider this a very special writing circumstance that isn’t meant to confuse, but will hit a lot of that, move backwards, forwards, skip chapters for the sake of accomplishing what comes up holds promise at it’s own chosen time. it’s the most doable strategy i can come up with, and right now the only thing missing is “doable”. won’t allow details to take over… can quickly turn “undoable”. this is an excessive amount of prefacing- spanning months/years? i will probably repeat myself by you can accept that, too, bad engrish, hopping, etc- okay. and if you can’t that’s okay, too! i’m just getting a bit out of my head and any bit sound reason is all i hope for… anything really, at all, i’ll take teensy teensy. current state- not okay, no reason, nothing more expected. a comfortable believable area that’s life me in the dust. (and i’m SO nervous to sound “oh poor me”- it just is on me or no body. i should never even know of this experience in life, and it was easy breezy for most of my life (the other part that doesn’t seem to fit). good god, the films. short version, this is all my sweet precious GEM of a dad (j’ro and hope can back that, they were both moved by him… best part- my dad is so innocently oblivious to it all). so i’ve surprised him by digitizing (oh the death of me) these here, will be editing for life- like 70 or something, but only a fraction compared to the rest on reels - which he is aware exist. i don’t think he’s ever seen any, but major things like the worlds fair are missing (possibly even some of his dad who died when he was 7). i’m the sole one that somehow wrangled that house of 4 generations, notebooks and book and films (extreme patience things) being the bulk. he’s hesitantly asked me about the others and i’ve hesitantly said in a shaky voice under my breath that “they are safe and sound………… and ummmmmmmmm at j.ro’s house” and “to not worry, i’ll figure it out, i promise, i’ll just figure it out and they’ll be right here”. my dad asks for NOTHING- he needs nothing, he’s happy and healthy and generous to death. he WILL have those films, projector and all. but not not tomorrow- and not until things are like HE, who ADORE’S j. ro, are back to life. we’re not looking at million years beyond tomorrow either. this is on me- and i’m less than harmless, so and junk, shouldn’t be mine to clean up- but i’m happy to for the love of them both. how? i’m trying to get there, it’s just not going to be an easy ride.

i’m sure i’m repeating that there is/always will be a place in my heart and priceless memories with hope- it a situation, and she’s just in it, and although it’s not accessible to me, it didn’t just walk of, you know it in there, too.

there’s anger here, and i feel extremely guilty and conflicted about expressing anything like that about someone with far too much already… and criticism? with love? i’ve had some major blows, that were deliberate decisions. i’ve really tried to find a way for them to make sense… just a little off the rails in traumatic times and a not acceptable normalcy. it’s like i’ve made some 100% unavoidable life altering “mistakes”(?), so i can’t not worry about everything now- how can i know if this won’t result in that? it’s not to cause anyone any harm, just to untangle some damage done on my end- only so i can be just okay… that= okay=amazing in my world now….. oh good lord the world. i will not stop trying to practice-DEETS LATER, BULLET POINTS NOW. i said i will not stop trying… since it can be jumpy maybe i will do scary parts just fast and quickly take and a special occasion ambien night to celebrate. you’re so going to be, what?? after all this i was expecting something GOOD!!!!

[thistle-whistle-ffxiv]

Fluffuary Day 3 - Mutual Pining

Two sisters, two unsent letters.

Azami,

I doubt you’ll ever read this letter. I’m not planning on sending it. Even if I were, I have no idea where to send it to. You didn’t tell me where you were going when you snuck out in the middle of the night and disappeared. 

I’m not angry with you. I know you were afraid. I would have asked you to stay, and we both know you wouldn’t have had the strength to tell me no. 

I’m furious. I hate you as often as I love you these days.

How dare you do this to me? How dare you say it’s for my sake? You abandoned me in this cold foreign place and ran off without so much as a goodbye? We promised each other, didn’t we? We would always be together. Was that truly worth so little to you?

Are you at least safe? Are you remembering to eat? I’m sure you’re lonely, wherever you are. I wish I could have gone with you.

Don’t worry about me. Haruka is making sure I’m well taken care of. One of the sages here has been giving me some sort of medicine, and it’s been working well. I’m stronger than ever. Maybe even stronger than you.

That was a joke. I doubt I’ll ever be able to match you when it comes to carrying around sacks of rice. 

Do you ever miss it? The farm? Not how we left it, but how it was before? I’ve been thinking of it a lot recently. 

I want to go home, but we have no home to go back to. What will we do? I know you didn’t abandon me. You’ll come back someday. But what then? Will we run off to some distant place where nobody’s ever heard of us? Start fresh in some new village far from the reach of the empire? We could settle down in some quiet place and raise hens or grow radishes. I know you would like that.

I know I’ve only ever been a burden to you. Maybe this time apart will be good for you. You’ll be able to do whatever it is you want without me slowing you down. Even so, I have a rather selfish request.

Haruka has been bringing me a lot of books to occupy myself with. Most of them are about flora and fauna of distant lands. They’re all a little technical and dull, but they have illustrations sometimes. I think I’d like to see these places for myself. 

Once I’m well enough, let’s go on a journey together.

Just come back to me safe. Or at least send me a letter so I’ll know you’re alright. And please remember to take care of yourself. I’m not there to make sure you don’t work until you collapse. I know three meals a day might be a little bit much to ask of you, but at least try to remember to eat breakfast. And go to bed at a reasonable time.

Please be safe, Himawari

Himawari,

I doubt you’ll ever read this. I’m not planning on sending it. Even if I were, I don’t imagine that you would read it. 

I actually can’t send it, even if I thought you would read it. I’m writing this in my journal, and on the other side of the page is a list of jobs and clients I’ve taken on. I need that for the time being.

 I’m sure you’re very angry with me right now, since I didn’t say goodbye. I think if I had, I wouldn’t have had the strength to leave. And then where would we be?

I’m doing alright. Adventuring work isn’t quite what I thought it would be. They said that you can earn a lot of money quickly in this line of work. So far, that hasn’t seemed especially true. But I’m only just starting out. And Mistress Momodi has entrusted me with some important tasks. They didn’t pay well, but I think if I keep doing well enough she’ll let me try my hand at the more lucrative jobs. Though they will be a little dangerous.

But you don’t need to worry. I’ve joined a party of sorts. Two siblings attached themselves to me, and we’ve been working together. They’re annoying and nosey. Pink is trying to read this over my shoulder right now, and whining that I’m not using any of the letters she knows. I think you two would get along.

I wish you could be here with me. I wish we could go home. I wish a lot of things. But neither of us can live on wishes alone. I’ll earn the money and then come straight back to you. I promise.

Are you doing well? You haven’t been causing too much trouble for Haruka? I’m not there to take your scoldings for you, so don’t do anything too reckless. 

I’ve been thinking about what we’ll do when this is all over. I don’t think returning to Doma would be safe for either of us. But Eorzea isn’t so bad. We could start a life for ourselves here. We could settle down in some village somewhere and raise hens and grow radishes. I think I would like that.

I know I’ve only ever held you back. Maybe this separation will be good for you. You can do whatever it is you want without having to worry about me. You’ve always taken care of me, so please just this once. Let me be the one who takes care of you.

Once you’re well enough, we should go on a journey together. Our little village was never going to be big enough for you. But there’s so much here. Some of the places I’ve been have been so beautiful. I want to show them to you.

Make sure to get plenty of rest, and do what the chiurgeons bid you. I know the medicine tastes foul, but that just means it's effective. Don't go running off on your own, and try not to cause Haruka too much trouble.

Please just hold on a little longer, Azami

[my-never-ending-nightmare]

Here’s an example of the sort of overthinking that has plagued my existence for as long as I can remember: I cannot stop thinking about that call I missed three nights ago from someone with their caller ID turned off. Haven’t received another call since; from anybody. And that was the first call I had received in over a week when work called me – and even that was only because they couldn’t reach me on my work cell. That’s how rarely anybody calls me lol. So the fact that I not only got a call so late at night but also from someone trying to remain anonymous makes me think that it was someone important in my life trying to reach out to me. But at the same time I don’t have much of a reason to believe that other than wishful thinking. Like, it very well could have just been a scam caller or something… but don’t they usually mask their phone # with one that looks local rather than disabling caller ID altogether? Idk. I just know my thoughts keep circling back to one thing: I know who it might have been. And that’s what I’m so hung up on. Because if it was them then I feel like I failed them. The last time I spoke to them I told them as we were saying our goodbyes to hold onto my number and to call me anytime if they ever needed me. I’ll always answer, I said. And they thanked me for that because it was a promise to always be there for them – so what if I wasn’t? What if they needed me? Not what we used to have – but me as friend; someone to talk to – and I wasn’t there for them? I feel like I may have broken my promise, and I feel awful because of that. Like, if they were reaching out to me then it was because in that moment that had nobody else to turn to except for me. But in that moment I wouldn’t have been there for them. And I know how horrible it is to have nobody to turn to. So I feel incredibly guilty about having potentially left them feeling that way… but at the same time this all feels so ridiculous of me. This is all only potentially after all. It’s not like this person has given me any reason to expect a call from them since the last time we spoke. But still… I assume the worst. And I’ve really been beating myself up over it. So much so that it’s begun to creep its way into my dreams. Even though I know how silly this all really is.

Oh, and side note: I’m not too happy about something I said here yesterday, either. And it’s been weighing on my mind just as heavily. I was trying to express how no matter how lonely I feel on any given day I’m always thankful that I’m not somebody who goes out and gets myself into relationships for the wrong reasons – because in my life I’ve seen tons of people who were staying together for reasons other than love (my parents included) and none of them have seemed like happy people in healthy relationships. And I feel genuinely sorry for those people because it seems to me like it’s an absolutely miserable & hopeless situation to be in. And I experienced first hand how that misery trickles down when you add children to the mix. But in retrospect the way I said it yesterday seems very condescending. What I was trying to express got lost in translation and if you’ll permit me to do a bit of armchair psychoanalysis of myself then I’ll say that it was because of my fear of vulnerability. Like, it’s incredibly difficult for me to admit to being lonely. Far more difficult than it is to talk about depression. As a guy there’s more of a stigma about it – as if it’s a result of failure/weakness. And I feel like such a loser talking about it. So not only had I made myself vulnerable like that, I had also embarrassed myself by admitting in the same post that I believe in soulmates. I didn’t believe them for most of my life until something rather profound changed that; so I can understand how fantastical or even absurd the notion is to a lot of people. And I felt silly because of it. I was making myself vulnerable and that made me uncomfortable/embarrassed so I think I tried to hide behind an inappropriate attempt at humor. As if by finding a way to end that post with “lol” could shield me from any embarrassment. But I wish I had just had the courage to say how I feel.

Instead I overthink everything. Constantly.

It’s quite the curse.