#i swear i send mine in all lowercase

[leeechin]

☆ piano player bf sunghoon ! (18+!!!) 🎹 🎼 🎧

warnings: nonidol!au, sunghoon plays the piano, semi public sex, fingering (f.rec), sunghoon fingers reader infront of his piano lol, pet names (hoonie, baby, sweetheart), lowercase intended, dom! hoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before tapping), slight unrealistic writing of the piano (?), barely any plot again, sorry.

word count: ( 1.6k )

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you're getting ready to leave your shared apartment with sunghoon, he was in the middle of his last piano lesson he gave to kids. you were so excited to see your boyfriend after many hours, today being one of the few days your work gave you a day off. and you were going to make sure every second of this day would be spent with sunghoon.

sending your boyfriend a quick text that you were on the way, grabbing your keys from the key bowl you and sunghoon had, walking down the stairs to your car.

you felt so giddy once you arrived at sunghoon's work, greeting his co workers and going to the room he was teaching, knowing that he was now wrapping up the lesson.

you opened the door to see sunghoon shuffling thru the neat pile of music notes, placing them into a folder and handing it to the kid he just finished the lesson with.

the kid looks up to you, a huge grin splayed across her face. you give her a smile in return. "sunghoon is this your girlfriend?" the girl asks, sunghoon nods in response. the girl turning her attention back to you. "you’re so pretty! like a princess!" she compliments. you give your a boyfriend a joyful look as he grins widely at you in return. sunghoon gets up from his seat, bringing the folder of organized music sheets inside, handing it to the little girl. "practice the first two sheets and we'll work on more the next time i see you."

"okay! see you sunghoon and princess girlfriend!" the girl exclaims. you smile again at what the little girl called you. sunghoon moves next to you one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. "see you next week hana." sunghoon bidding his goodbye for the week.

looking up to the opened door, the receptionist guiding hana back to the main lobby. "you have no more lessons for the day." she says. "alright. i'm staying behind for a bit. i wanna show y/n a little piece of mine i composed." sunghoon says, the receptionist nodding in return, closing the door behind her.

you turn to face sunghoon, body still in his embrace. placing a small kiss on his lips. "composed a little something for you." sunghoon murmurs against your lips, giving you another quick before pulling away.

"i'm all ears hoonie." you respond, watching as your boyfriend moved towards the piano.

you drank in the sight of him in his white button up shirt and black trouser. it was so simple but looked so good on him, the sleeves slightly rolled up showing his muscly arms. you thank his friends for pushing him to go to gym more often. and you couldn’t even get started on his hands, thinking about all the he's wrapped them around your throat, how his long slender fingers stuffed in you so deep everytime he fingered you.

sunghoon placed his finger on the keys of the piano, noticing how you've been gazing his hands a little too long. you swear you came to visit your boyfriend with no intentions but wanting to spend time with him, it was just too hard to resist how hot your boyfriend when he's playing the piano.

"focus elsewhere? you like the piano?" sunghoon teases. "what piano?" you respond quickly, snapping out of your trance once you've realized what you said.

sunghoon laughs at your realization, gesturing for you to stand a bit closer to his piano. "cmon baby focus. i'll give you what you want after this." testing out the keys with a quickly melody before starting to play the piece he composed. the beautiful sounds of the piano filling the room.

"fuck baby you're gonna have to be quiet for me." sunghoon murmurs against the skin of your neck. off key sounds of the piano fill the room as you hold onto it, your hands occasionally crashing onto it whenever you lift your hands. sunghoon has two of his long slender fingers stuffed deep into your pussy, going in and out of you at a relentless pace.

sunghoon brings his hand that’s been resting over your tit to the piano keys, playing a little composition, attempting to cover up the fact that he's two fingers deep in you. "feels so good hoonie." you whine biting your bottom lip so hard to suppress any moans leaving your mouth. "shit baby gotta have you ride my face one day." sunghoon grunts. a loud gasp escapes your lips when sunghoon adds a third finger. he's quick to bring his hand that's been playing the piano to cover your mouth.

"be a good girl for me. you don't want anybody to walk in seeing me stretch out your cunt with my fingers do you sweetheart?" you whine a yes against his hand, a smirk plastered on sunghoon's at the sight of you.

you were seated on his lap, back leaning against his front, slightly arched from how sunghoon was fingering you. tears streaming down your face from the sensation. baby tee slightly wrinkly up from sunghoon's hand going under it earlier, gray pleated skirt bunched out with your panties pulled to the side.

it was such a mess, you were such a mess. a couple of sunghoon's music sheets scattered on the floor. it was all too good for neither of the two of you to care. your boyfriend now three fingers deep in you. clouds were starting to fill your vision, you swear that you were in heaven. throwing your head back when sunghoon's fingertips hit that one spot that turned your legs into jelly.

"are you close baby?" sunghoon asks, picking up his pace, moving his thumb on the hand that was fingering you to rub your clit to add on to the stimulation.

trusting you to not make any sounds as he removed his hand that was covering your mouth to go under your shirt again, grabbing and resting on one of your tips, messily fondling with the bra strap to where it was sliding down your shoulder. "yes." you whine.

your words were soft as you were quick to take your bottom lip under your upper lip trying to fulfill your boyfriend's requests of no sounds. i mean after all, you guys were in the room he uses to teach people the piano!

"shit baby i can feel you clenching so tight around my fingers." sunghoon murmurs, kisses peppering around your nape. the faint melody of one of his hands playing the piano again. you start to let out soft noises, lucky that the piano keys were covering the sounds.

"m' cumming hoonie! please!" you throw your head back against his shoulder, hands crashing forward on the piano keys, sunghoon shushes you, slowing down his pace as your orgasm hits you, body slightly shaking.

"you did so good for me sweetheart, such pretty sounds you make too." sunghoon praises, the sound of him sucking his fingers that were covered in your release. he groaned at the sweet taste of you. standing you up infront of his piano, turning you around to place a kiss on your lips, you moaned against sunghoon's lips at the taste of you, moving your hands to unbutton a couple buttons of his shirt.

sunghoon's quick to pull away from your guys' kiss, carefully closing the top that covered his piano keys, turning you around. your hands landed over the cover, bent over his piano. you push your hips back, ass wiggling cutely. "hoonie wanna feel you inside." you beg, feeling his large hands hold your hips to keep you in place. "gonna have to be quick sweetheart." he grunts, pulling down his trousers just enough for his dick to spring out.

giving his cock a few tugs before aligning his tip to your entrance, sunghoon hisses when when he pushes in, immediately feeling how your velvety walls sucked in and clenched around his length. forgetting what your boyfriend told you, a loud moan escapes your lips at the feeling of sunghoon bottoming out, every inch of him filled deep into your messy pussy.

"gotta be quiet baby." sunghoon reminds you, stuffing two fingers in your mouth to suppress any sounds. your eyes half lidded and rolling back as sunghoon fastened his pace, mercilessly pounding deep into your cunt. you push your hips back wanting more of sunghoon. a harsh slap is delivered across your ass, making you moan against sunghoon's digits in your mouth.

sunghoon's hand on your hip holds you tightly as he continued slamming into you, sounds of his hips hitting against your ass filled the room, with your muffled cries and moans. you guys sure were hoping no one was hearing the two of you outside of the door.

"baby m' gonna cum, finish with me like the good girl you are." sunghoon says, finishing deep inside your fluttering cunt as he slowed down his pace stilling inside of you. that triggered your release to follow shortly after, a few tears dragging down your face at the intense orgasm.

your boyfriend helps you place your panties back in place properly, pulling your skirt down so that it was covering your ass again. he turned you around wiped your tear streaked face before fixing himself up again, also tidying up the scattered music sheets on the floor.

you pull sunghoon for a loving kiss. "you don’t think they heard us right?" you ask, "don’t think so." sunghoon responded. the two of guys agreed to that, knowing deep inside you guys didn’t try as hard to contain the sounds.

walking down the hallway hand in hand, you and sunghoon run into sunoo. both you and sunghoon being stopped in your tracks. sunoo throws you two a disgusted look, covering both of his ears dramatically.

"you guys are lucky that kid was the last person of the day for a lesson! my poor ears!"

[sturnioloshacker]

sex in seattle - a vinnie hacker smut

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended 

cw: praise kink, dirty talk, blowjob, sex, orgasm denial, smut. this is an nsfw short, everything written is fictional. interact or don’t interact, i’m not your mother

summary: vinnie is thankful for having sex in his room with you, but not thankful for being caught in the act

the front door of vinnie’s childhood home opens and we’re both greeted by his parents maria and nate with opens arms and big hugs. this year, i’m celebrating thanksgiving with vinnie’s family and friends. It’s always nice to have a bit of a change which is why i’m currently in seattle with the best boyfriend in the entire world and his family and closest friends. we walk in and it feels so cozy, warm and full of love. 

“the turkey is still in the oven so make yourself comfortable, love”, maria warningly says.

“thanks, maria.”

i go to sit next to vinnie but instead i’m pulled by my hips and into his lap. not that i’m complaining though! while everyone is busy preparing the table and setting up the food, vinnie starts to act up. he starts bucking his hips up, the friction becoming too much all of a sudden. 

“vincent, what are you trying to accomplish here?”

“baby, please, i need you now”. he whines softly in my ear.

“bub, we’re here with your family and friends. we can’t just go and have sex like we do back at home in la.”

he whines again as i get up from his lap to go and see if his family needs help with anything. being told that everything is under control, I’m suddenly spun around to face my boyfriend. 

“how about i give you a tour of my room?” he smirks, taking me by the hand and leading me to his room.

this boy i swear to god, always so horny!

he takes me in first before closing the door behind us and pushing me up against it. he quickly follows my movement, capturing my lips in his for a steamy and sensual kiss. little moans and gasps escape my lips as he squeezes my ass and presses his chest against mine, allowing his tongue to explore my mouth and graze my lips. i slowly drop to my knees and i’m level with his growing boner. i press a quick kiss to his clothed dick before hooking my fingers around the waistband, pulling them down to find that he chose to go commando today. good lord. I wrap my hands around his length, giving him a couple of strokes before taking him in my mouth.

“god i love the way you wrap that pretty little mouth around me, princess. so pretty.”

i giggle around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine. i speed up my movements, making vinnie throw his head back in pleasure, the intensity getting him close to the edge. He grabs my head and pulls me off, his breathing rapid. 

“as much as i wanna cum in your mouth, i would love to cum in that cute little pussy of yours.”

he helps me up from the floor before picking me up and throwing us onto his bed. he presses a quick kiss to my forehead before aligning himself with my entrance. he pushes in all the way, bottoming out once he’s fully inside and making us both moan in pure ecstasy. i quickly adjust and give him the nod of approval for him to start moving. 

“oh vin, that feels so good, please don’t stop.” i moan out.

“not stopping, pretty baby. not until you cum all over my cock.”

i can feel us getting so close. i clench around vinnie’s girth, feeling him twitch against my walls. my heart beats faster and my breathing becomes erratic as i feel the knot rapidly unravelling in my stomach. i cry out as my orgasm washes over me and i cream all over vinnie’s cock. i grind against his cock as i ride out my orgasm, getting him close to the edge. 

“fuck, pretty girl. you’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

“cum inside me, pretty boy. i need to feel you inside me so bad.”

“hey guys, you almost done with the room tour? dinner is read- JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK?!”

vinnie and i both scream in fear as we whip our heads to the open door where his brother reggie stands, mouth wide open and hands in his hair. We quickly cover ourselves with the blankets and sheet underneath us, trying to hide our bodies from the younger brother.

“knock next time, dipshit! how much did you see?” vinnie asks, fear exiting his body. 

“um... just that last bit. fuck, now i’m scarred for life. anyway, dinner’s ready when you two are.”

reggie shuts the door and vinnie turns to look back down at me.

“i just lost my orgasm. shit, i’m sorry baby.”

“it’s okay, bub. i’ll give it to you later on tonight, promise.”

“this is one of the many reasons why i love you so much. happy thanksgiving, my pretty.”

“i love you so much. happy thanksgiving, handsome.”

[writtcnbycassie]

𐙚 DROWNING OUT THE NOISE — PERCY JACKSON .ᐟ ˚⋆. ˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ ꒰ golden retriever!percy jackson x fem!black cat!reader — a riordanverse fic ꒱

— ordered﹔yes / no - here!! — ingredients﹔fluffy whipped cream, use of y/n, purpose use of lowercase alphabet soup, probably not well proofread, lmk if i missed anything! — wc﹔1.2k+ // 9.2 min average reading time — recipe﹔read the order above :) — cassie's tea time﹔YAYYAYAY FIRST REQUEST!! <3 ik campers can't usually use their phones since it sends out signals to monsters and all but i wrote it so the hephaestus cabin made electronics that don't attract monsters and all!! i also didn't know what to put for the photos above sooooo

﹙the cafe // dishes // menu // barista board﹚

y/n always wore her headphones. it was like her shield, a way to drown out the noise of the world around her. social anxiety was something she'd battled for as long as she could remember, and the headphones were her safe place — a place she would retreat into whenever she could.

going to camp half-blood was supposed to be different. it was like the perfect place for misfits and somewhere she could finally feel like she belonged, according to her satyr protector long ago. but on her first day, she found herself reaching for her headphones more than ever. she kept to the edges, avoiding eye contact and hoping to blend into the background. it was ironic; she felt like a misfit in a place full of misfits.

but percy jackson had a way of noticing things. and he noticed her.

percy had always been the kind of person who made friends easily, especially being the saviour of olympus and a son of one of the big three. he had a laid-back, golden retriever kind of personality. so when he spotted the girl, always with her headphones on and keeping to herself, he was naturally intrigued.

"hey," percy said one day, walking up to her after archery practice. y/n looked up, startled, and pulled one side of her headphones off.

"hi," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"sorry, i didn't mean to startle you. i'm percy," he said sheepishly, offering her a friendly smile. "i've seen you around."

"y/n," she introduced herself, fiddling with the cord of her headphones.

"cool headphones," percy remarked, hoping he could ease the tension. "whatcha listening to?"

y/n hesitated, not sure why the percy jackson would be talking to her. she took off her headphones, handing them to percy. percy accepted them with a smile, putting them on as the music flowed into his ear. "no way, you listen to them too?? i swear, i've never seen anyone listen to this artist. i like your taste."

she relaxed a little, a small smile appearing on her face. "i adore them, they're my favourite band ever."

percy couldn't help but grin as she smiled, happy that she relaxed even a little bit. "mine too. what's your favourite song by them?"

days turned into weeks, and percy made it his mission to break through y/n's walls. he started inviting her to join him by the lake, offering her training lessons or sometimes following her around like a lost puppy as she chuckled. slowly but surely, she began to come out of her shell.

one sunny afternoon, percy noticed y/n sitting alone under the shade of a tree by the lake. she gazed at the water as she listened to the music flowing from her headphones. percy approaches her with a wave.

"hey, y/n," percy greets.

"hey, percy." she looked up, giving him a smile and removing her headphones.

"mind if i join you?"

she shook her head, and he settled in beside her. "what're you listening to today?"

y/n handed him her headphones, and percy listened for a moment. "i love this album." he hums before handing the headphones back.

"why d'you always wear your headphones?" percy decides to ask, dipping his hands in the cool water. they always spent their free time there together, not that any of them complained. they enjoyed eachother's company. "you don't gotta answer." he added quickly, not wanting to intrude her privacy.

y/n took a deep breath. "they help me cope. with... pretty much everything. the noise, the people. it all gets too much sometimes." she admits softly, looking down at the headphones in her hands.

percy nodded understandingly. "i get it. everyone needs something to help them through tough times, y'know?"

"yeah," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "i appreciate, by the way. for being so nice to me. i know i'm not the easiest person to be friends with."

"are you kidding?" Percy snorted, shaking his head. "you're awesome. you just need someone to see it."

y/n blushed, looking away as a shy smile played on her lips.. "yeah, maybe."

from that day forward, their friendship only seemed to grow even further. percy was there for her every step of the way, helping y/n find her confidence that she never knew she had. in return, y/n's calm presence helped ground percy's impulsive nature. they balanced each other out perfectly.

y/n realised how much she'd changed. she wasn't the same girl who hid behind her headphones. she still wore them, but now they were like a part of her rather than a shield.

"thank you, percy," she said suddenly as they sat at the beach.

"for what?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"for helping me," she replied, meeting his eyes.

percy smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "always. we're in this together."

it wasn't long before percy realised his feelings for y/n. he wouldn't admit it to himself, though. all of their hangouts by the lake and beach, the times where they'd listen to their favourite artists together, or the times percy had held her hand as he taught her how to wield a sword.. no, it couldn't be.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, a golden glow casting over the camp, percy found himself standing at the edge of the lake, waiting for y/n at their spot. she arrived, headphones around her neck as usual, with a smile that warmed his heart. a smile that y/n knew percy liked, so she wore more often. they sat together, side by side, in comfortable silence.

"percy," y/n said quietly, her voice barely audible over the soft push and pull of the lake's water.

"yeah?" he replied, turning to look at her.

"why are you so nice to me?" she asked, her eyes searching his.

percy took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "because... i like you, y/n. i like spending time with you.uou make everything better. and, well, i.. i think you're pretty amazing."

y/n's eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. "you do?"

percy nodded, staring down at the lake as he blushed. "yeah, i do. and i want to be there for you, always. if you'll let me."

she reached out and squeezed his hand. "i'd like that, percy. I'd like that a lot."

percy felt a wave of relief wash over him. he had been so nervous about confessing his feelings, but y/n’s response made it all worth it.

y/n turned to percy with a thoughtful expression. "you know, i never thought i’d find someone who understands me like you do."

percy smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "you’ve helped me too, you know."

"how?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"you’ve helped me slow down, appreciate the little things. you’ve shown me that it's okay to take a break and just be in the moment. otherwise i probably would've hurt myself." percy laughed.

y/n laughed along with him, smiling brightly "i'm glad."

percy found himself looking forward to their time together more than anything else. he appreciated every moment when he made her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her favorite music, and the peaceful silence they shared by the lake.

as they sat by the lake, y/n turned to percy with a serious expression. "you’ve helped me so much, percy. i don’t think i can ever thank you enough."

"you don’t have to thank me," he replied, squeezing her hand gently. "i’m just glad i could be here for you."

"i want to do something for you," she insisted. "anything. name it."

percy thought for a moment, then smiled. "just stay by my side and be yourself. that’s all i need."

— thank you for placing your order, and i hoped you enjoyed your meal! kisses from jvpiterzs <3 — cafe guest list﹔n/a

[gluion]

familiarity (it’s all sticky) ➵ lee seokmin

peter parker!lee seokmin x spiderman!reader

you’re not sure why you decide to show up at your ex’s place all wounded up from tonight’s battle.

genre/warnings ➵ exes (to sort of lovers?), angst, touch of fluff, afab reader (no gendered terms), hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), discussions of wounds and depictions of blood, lowercase intended, ghost-spider au (though please don’t expect it to be accurate!), reader is obviously spiderman while dokyeom is peter parker i mean HELLO?? i am right, dokyeom is a lil a slob here, reader’s hair is long enough to be tucked behind their ear, based everything on google when it comes to patching up wounds omg, kissing fingertips, mentions of non-sexual stripping and showering (let him take care of you)

word count ➵ 4k words

playlist ➵ nonviolent communication by metro boomin, james blake, a$ap rocky, & 21 savage // hummingbird by metro boomin & james blake

a/n ➵ my svt writing debut <3 i thought this fic would also work really well for my silly dk and i wanted caratblr to have a chance to read this lil baby of mine <3 here's the original work if you're interested! and ofc, thank you to my cat @wuahae for betareading the original :’) you know how much i love you! don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist

new york city never falls silent. the bustle of every new yorker can be heard through their footsteps,  the wheels that glide against the train tracks along with the beeps of taxis sound throughout the city. the metropolis stays alive in every street, every alleyway, every corner. no matter what hour it may be, each pavement is wide awake.

but the lights seem hazy tonight; the luminescence pours out of every building, the led boards are only blurs of silhouettes and illegible words. normally, you would warn against going out if someone could barely make sense of what these signs say, but you never seem to follow your own advice.

as you swing through the city, web clinging onto every building, blood continues to seep through the white spandex that covers you from head to toe. your body feels heavy, the pain in your lower abdomen continuing to spike with every movement—every swing—you make.

you bite on your lip, holding back the whimpers. your eyes dart through every street sign you pass. with every swing, you realize you’re nowhere close to where you should be. instead… 

you don’t allow yourself to think it over. maybe the loss of blood has you moving out of impulse, but for now, you can only think of getting rid of the pain.

you swing around the corner before landing down at the familiar fire escape, paint-chipped and rusted just like you remember. a hiss leaves your mouth as your hand reaches out to the spot where the blood continues to seep through, holding it down to keep pressure on the wound.

you’re face-to-face with the window; the reflection of you all suited up in some persona is a sight you’re accustomed to—but not on the glass of his window. you’re not sure why you came back here, injured in an identity he only knew of through word of mouth.

but the throbbing in your abdomen doesn’t give you enough time to think more about it. pushing the window up, you throw one leg over the edge into the apartment. your eyes quickly scan through the familiar space—a room you once treated as yours.

pillows scattered and bedsheets wrinkled, the walls are littered with the same posters of anime he swears to be the best of all time (which you agreed with), along with his desk, littered with trinkets you haven’t seen since the day you left him—ones that he talked about to you back then with so much joy.

as you attempt to get your other leg over the edge of the window, you yelp at the sharp pain that strikes. “fuck,” you whimper, gasping out a breath. another groan rips out from your throat as you force your leg over, head resting on the frame with closed eyes, bracing yourself through the wave of pain that follows.

as pants continue to leave your mouth, your senses tingle as your ears catch the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. you attempt to stand up only for another groan to leave your lips, and you realize it’s too late—the door creaks open, revealing the man you haven’t been face-to-face with since you said your farewell months ago.

dressed in an oversized white tee and a pair of black shorts, dokyeom stands with a bag of chips in his hand and disheveled hair, eyes wide and gaping. you can only assume he was fresh from bed.  

“s-spiderman?!” he looks around, noticing the mess that you’re being exposed to. before you can register it, he rushes in, dropping the bag of chips somewhere near the doorway, and tries to tidy his bed. “w-what are you doing here? i think you might’ve entered the wrong room,” he stutters as he attempts to fix his pillows and bedsheets (poorly, if you may say). 

somehow, the sight of dokyeom all frazzled makes you smile behind your mask. the idea of your—no, you mean, this guy all worried about you seeing how untidy he lives makes you chuckle.

but as you laugh, pain shoots through your lower abdomen once more. you cough out before hissing, pressing onto the wound. it takes everything in you to keep your body upright until you feel a pair of hands rest on your shoulders. you look up only to be met with his worried expression.

and you spot the way his eyes trail down to where your hand rests. you’re thankful that the mask could hide the heat that rises to your cheeks.

“oh god, you need that treated,” dokyeom’s eyes snap back up to you, and your breath hitches. even after all these months, he still holds stars in his eyes.

it’s been a while since you last saw him up close. the bags on his under eyes have turned a few shades darker, and you notice an eyelash that rests on his cheek. you don’t think about what you do next, your free hand reaching out to his face, and his breath hitches. once you pick it out, you flick the strand off of your fingers, and that’s when you realize the mistake you committed.

“s-sorry,” you choke out. although you try to keep your voice as low and gruntled as possible, he frowns. he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker between your masked face and the wound.

“i-i don’t know how to help. i can call for an ambulan—”

you grab onto his arm before he can leave. as you shake your head, he gulps. “i can’t really help you,” he says, but your grip doesn’t falter. with that, he lets out a sigh before kneeling in front of you. his hands find themselves on the ledge, his arms now caging your frail figure. “do you have someone in mind who can help you?”

dokyeom’s question is innocent. you’re sure the last thing he meant was to mock your situation—showing up in a “stranger’s” room unannounced—but it strikes a chord in you.

you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up a few months back. when you’re outside of your suit, you avoid him like the plague. in the hallways of campus, you take any possible route to not cross his. but when you’re covered in your second skin, you find yourself on top of buildings watching him from far away. with the distance, you allow yourself to learn about what he’s been up to since you two last spoke. 

so you don’t know why you sit in front of him all injured and dressed up in white, black, and pink spandex, because you haven’t spoken to him since that day. shame bubbles within you all while reality slowly slips from your fingertips. and the way your body gets heavier with every second that passes has him mumbling profanities.

his hands hold onto you as he makes you lean your weight on the frame of the window. “wait,” he says as he stands up and walks into his bathroom. before you know it, he comes out with a box.

dokyeom finds his spot back in front of you and he opens what he retrieved. as he looks through the supplies of bandages, alcohol, gauze, and more, he says as his eyes flicker up towards you, “i don’t know how much this will help but it’ll do for now.”

and you should be thankful that someone is willing to bandage you up after the rough night you’ve had, but it feels like a lie to have dokyeom be the one to do it, especially when you haven’t told him the truth.

so when he grabs onto the supplies he needs to treat your wound, your free hand reaches for the underside of your mask. his eyes follow where it rests, and he freezes in his tracks. your fingertips curl on the fabric as you take a deep breath.

“you don’t—”

you shake your head, cutting him off, and you close your eyes before pulling off the mask.

you’re afraid to look at the boy kneeling in front of you, for you can only imagine the annoyance—the disgust—that will paint his features. it’s not like you had a choice to show up at his fire escape this one night, but it was your choice to reveal who spiderman really is behind the mask.

a beat passes.

you’re not sure what to do at this moment. what are you supposed to do after a vigilante reveals who they are?

but when you open your eyes, dokyeom looks back at you with an emotion you can’t pinpoint. he averts his eyes, trailing down to your wound. “let me see it,” he whispers.

you gulp, an attempt to clear your throat and thoughts, before letting your hand move away from the puncture. your hand grips the hem of the top of your suit, peeling it upwards to reveal a bloody wound. from the sight, it looks like you were stabbed, but it’s only a deep cut.

he pulls out a piece of cloth, reaching out and pressing it to your wound. you yelp, eyes squeezing shut at the contact.  “i’m sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding a bit more.” it takes everything in you to open your eyes. you’re met with the sight of dokyeom whose face holds a thousand emotions—you can’t identify any of them.

“can you keep pressure on it?” you only nod before you remove your gloves, afraid to touch the wound with fabric covered in grime. you dump your mask and gloves on the space beside you before letting your hand reach to where the cloth is held against. your hand brushes against his for a split second—you retract your hand immediately at the contact with his skin.

at the sudden motion, the cloth against your stomach drops with nothing left to hold it. dokyeom curses in a panic, hand shooting out in an attempt to save it, but you react faster. snatching it mid-fall, you grasp it tightly, placing the cloth back onto your wound. his eyes dart between where your hand rests and your face, a twinge of worry cast on his features, but he doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything as he stands up quickly and walks back to his bathroom.

you hear the water run for a moment. the noises of the street fill your ears. the lights from outside cascade the floor, hues of yellow and purple filling the room. and then thunder rumbles; it shakes the floorboards. the sounds of raindrops follow, and you feel your back start to get wet from the storm that has entered new york city.

you try to push yourself off the ledge, a groan ripping out of your throat once more. and you’re finally on your feet. but at any moment, it feels like you may collapse.

“wait, wait! what are you doing?” dokyeom exclaims as he rushes out of the bathroom. he quickly grabs hold of you in an attempt to keep you steady. “don’t stand up or that wound might get worse.”

“i-it’s just the rain. i don’t want to leave the window open.” as you turn your torso, another spike strikes where your wound is. the yelp that leaves your mouth has dokyeom grip onto your arm tighter.

“no, just sit. i’ll take care of it,” he says as he brings you to his chair, his hand never leaves your arm. you let out a hiss until your bottom meets the cushion. as soon as your back rests on the chair, you close your eyes for a moment from the pain.

his hand leaves you. you hear the window shut; the car horns and barks from stray animals are now muffled.

when your eyes flutter open, dokyeom crouches in front of you with a wet towel in his hand. “i need to clean it.” you only nod before removing the cloth on your wound. he grabs it from you and places it on his lap.

as he raises the wet towel to your wound, you flinch at the contact. he quickly retracts it and asks, “does it hurt?”

“no, it’s just cold,” you mumble back. he only nods before attempting to clean the area around your wound. while he keeps his eyes on the puncture, your eyes remain on his face; hues of yellow cast upon him.

his skin glows under the city lights—did anyone know about the stars you once carved on it?

“is this why we broke up?” his eyes snap toward yours as he asks that question.

you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “y-yeah,” you choke out.

he hums before his eyes go back down to your injury. “i’m guessing this is why you were distant then, right?”

you don’t bother to speak, letting the silence speak for itself.

he removes the wet towel; the white cloth is covered in patches of red. as he crumples it into a ball, you spot that his white shirt holds splotches of blood as well.

dokyeom stands up to drop the pieces of fabric on the table behind you. “your dad obviously doesn’t know,” he mutters to himself.

it’s a rhetorical question. of course, your father has no clue of your late-night rendezvous. you’re sure he could never look at you the same if he found out because to him, he would never understand what you do. he would see you only as a low-life criminal in the same way the nypd does. 

dokyeom then dabs a cotton ball soaked in betadine on your abdomen. you bite on your lip as a hiss leaves your mouth. “fuck,” you curse, and he only continues to clean up your wound.

silence takes over you two. as he bandages you up, you allow yourself to close your eyes. you were thankful to find rest in these small moments. but you don’t miss the warmth of his fingertips on your skin; they feel just like last time.

“why did you come here?” his question has your eyes snapping open, and you are met with a frown resting on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “i-i don’t know.” it’s a lie—one you both know. you had every chance to change the route you were taking. instead, you chose to go to his place—even if it may be on the other side of where you live.

he lets out a sigh. it’s clear that he’s disappointed by your words, but all he says is “okay,” as he gets up. “you can stay here for the night.” he stands in front of you in a shirt covered in patches of blood—it’s proof that his heart still holds a spot for you.

despite the venom that was laced in your words the night you cut ties with him, he leaves you a space for you to fill. it’s another choice you can make, but one you’re not sure if you should take.

dokyeom walks to the desk behind you and flips the lamp on. you swivel the chair so that you’re face-to-face with his slouched figure. you would’ve scolded him, but you’re not in the place to do so—not after what you two had.

but a part of you wishes to chide those words—hey, keep slouching and your back will get worse—for old time’s sake. it takes everything in you to hold back from saying the reminder, but it takes nothing to let your hand grip the back of his shirt. his movements halt.

as you sit up, you let your face bury into the arch of his back. the scent of his laundry detergent (it’s still the same smell of lavender) fills your nose, and you let your hands trail around his torso until they find their home on his waist. even after all these months, your hands knew where to rest—your spidey senses knew who to go to.

you feel his hands rest on your arms, his thumb drawing circles on your forearm. you breathe at the same pace as him. whenever his shoulders move up, yours follow. and you allow yourself to cherish just this once the familiar warmth of dokyeom. you let your soul mesh with his once more.

with closed eyes, you whisper, “i still look for you.” his thumb stops moving, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth. “i’m here because all i know is you.”

it’s half of a lie, but still a lie nevertheless. you shake your head against his shirt. “no,” you rescind. “i know i shouldn’t be here, and i had every chance to go back home, but,” you take a deep breath. “would you let me, just this once, be honest with you?”

your question hangs in the air—it’s not for him but for you. all the choices you took led to this moment, from embracing the persona you were handed through a single spider bite all the way to removing the mask in front of him.

dokyeom spins to face you. he stands in front of you with the remnants of you covering him, his shirt coated in hues of red and your blood dried up on his hands. the light behind him causes a shadow to paint his face.

but when he kneels once more in front of you, you get a good look at his features. he still looks like the same boy you first met—the same one you fell in love with—but you wonder if he was still the one you knew?

that is until his hand reaches toward your face. you hold your breath as it finds its spot on your cheek. but as his thumb grazes your cheekbone, a trembling breath leaves you. you gulp everything down—your fears and anxieties—so that you can finally be honest with dokyeom.

“i wanted to tell you who i really am.” a flicker of confusion flashes through his eyes. “and i know i’m not doing it in the best state,” a chuckle leaves your mouth. “but with every day that passes, and every injury i need to endure, i didn’t know when i would be able to tell you what went wrong with us.” a beat passes. “what went wrong with me.”

he shakes his head. “nothing’s wrong with you. what are you talking about?” a frown takes over his face. “i mean, you’re spiderman, for god’s sake.” you weren’t able to hold back the giggle that slipped from your lips.

but it wouldn’t be fair to just accept his words as is, not after the damage you’ve caused.

you let a hand rest on his, the one that rests on your cheek, and you curl your fingers so that you hold it. “i’m sorry that this is me.” the whisper is loud enough to fill the silence of his room. “i’m sorry that i crashed here all injured and left you to deal with the mess,” your eyes flicker to his bed. “especially on a night when you were resting.”

as soon as your eyes go back to dokyeom, you notice that he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “why are you telling me this?” it’s an honest question, one he couldn’t figure out the answer to. “we haven’t seen each other since you broke up with me.”

and he has every right to be confused with your sudden appearance. after all the months spent avoiding him in the halls while still seeking him on top of buildings, dokyeom was left with no clue as to why you come to him first in such a dire situation. why is it that you chose to reveal such an intimate part of yourself months after you two have drifted?

“do i have to say it?” you ask.

and he looks back into your eyes before saying, “it’s the least you can do.”

so you grab onto his hand, moving it so that it rests in yours. the sight of his fingers and palms covered in splotches of you fills your heart with warmth. it’s proof of the time he spent to patch you up. no matter who you may be—spiderman or not—you will forever be at his mercy.

“we can’t be together. it will only be another cycle of pain.” for both of you. as your eyes land back on his face, you spot sorrow coating his features.

“but i still do.” it’s an unfinished thought on his end. despite the frown you show, all he does is flash you a bitter smile. “i always have and always will.”

and it clicks.

“n-no, dokyeom,” you shake your head. “you can’t.”

he brings your hand close to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “but you do,” he whispers into your fingertips. “right?”

even after revealing who spiderman truly is behind the mask, you expect dokyeom to rethink everything he knows. the months spent away from you should be enough reason to reconsider how much he knows of you now. but even if you two were to spend years apart, he would still read you as well as he does now. 

“i can’t,” you choke out. “i can only offer so much, and you deserve so much more.”

he smiles at you—the same one you used to see every day, no matter what time of the day it may be—as his free hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“i couldn’t care any less.”

you shake your head. it’s clear he doesn’t understand the gravity of it all; to be with you means to remain in constant danger. “no, dokyeom. you don’t understand. i broke up with you because i’m batshit scared of what will happen to you.”

because it seems to always occur—anyone you come close to becomes another target for your enemies. it’s already hard enough to handle the responsibility of being a masked hero, but you don’t think you could handle a possibility where dokyeom’s death would be on your hands.

but all he does is shake his head and says, “i don’t care. i still love you.”

you haven’t heard him say that to you in months. such a simple phrase causes warmth to fill your limbs and heat to rise to your cheeks. he still has the same effect on you after so long.

there are consequences that this conversation bears. you should have stood up and left as soon as he patched you up. it should’ve been obvious that the longer you stayed, the more you would pour out sentiments that you tried to keep under wraps—under the mask—and it seemed that dokyeom knew how to undo them even better than he did then.

and hearing dokyeom say those words has you falling into a perpetual cycle of torment, one that makes every day intolerable for you can only watch him from afar. but aren’t you already living it the more you deny what’s in front of you two?

so you only nod, and bring his hand close so you can feel his fingertips on your lips. with closed eyes, you whisper, “okay.”

it’s a testament to everything—one to his offer to let you sleep in this very room you once treated as yours, one to his confession that tilted your world’s axis, one to the very situation you’re in—and you’re sure he knows it, too.

he smiles as soon as your eyes flutter open. “let’s go to sleep.”

you know that sleep meant to be wrapped in his arms all while he would leave kisses on your temple. you don’t remember the last time you got enough rest, but you remember that the last time you slept in dokyeom’s arms was the last one you were able to fall into slumber at ease.

so you nod, allowing him to help you out of the chair. and he helps you through it all—shedding the suit off of you, cleaning you of all the grime from tonight’s adventure, and getting dressed in fresh clothes—until you two find your place on his bed.

nothing is said for the rest of the night. for once, you drift into slumber without any secrets stashed away.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[carlsainz]

Afterglow – Luke Hughes

summary: luke sends you a voice mail after a big fight

pairing: luke hughes x reader

warnings: cursing

word count: idk i wrote it here lol

note: hey this is me drinking and writing :) gif credits to the owner

inspired by afterglow by doctor tay tay

lowercase intended.

luke sighed and started “hey babe, it’s me as you probably already know. i- i wanna say i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have said all of that to you. i’m so so sorry. the thing is, it’s not your fault i’m so insecure with myself and i reacted very badly and probably fucked up everything with the love of my life but hear me out. i’m so sorry again, why’d i have to break what i love so much? it’s all on me, babe, my fault, you’re literally an angel in my life and i reacted that way just because you weren’t giving me attention when i needed. but i didn’t mean the things i’ve said, i swear. i- shit i’m sorry. i love you so much and i need you with me, okay? i need my best friend and girlfriend with me, i really hope you can forgive me, just don’t go. i can’t- i can’t see you so sad, especially knowing it’s all my fault. i’ve never said these things to anyone else but i’m saying now to you. please tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine even if i lost my mind a few hours ago. just tell me that i’m all you want, please. i love you, deeply. call me back when you hear this or when you want to, okay? i really meant everything i said now. love you more than everything. please come back to me.”

[pwarkluv]

❝ crush on you - l.mk ❞

lee mark x reader | fluff | 1.4k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, idol au, love at first sight au, mature language/cursing, westernartist!reader, mark is a shy bby, soft!mark, lowkey shy!reader bc lol, ANOTHER REQUEST YAY!!

REQUEST | “love your writing! do you mind taking a request of mine? it’s where mark sees a western artist at an award show or function and he has a crush on her and wants to get with her before nct goes back to korea… thank you” - anon <3

SUMMARY | his little heart has a crush on you :)

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “crush on you” by soul fro and dum di dum! IM SO EXCITED THIS IS ANOTHER REQUEST!! THANK YOU ANON ILY <3 hopefully this meets your expectations :) i actually don’t know how award shows in the states work even though i’m literally from america so this might be slightly inaccurate lol. anyways thank you for supporting me crappy writing ahfkjdh i love you <33

mark had no idea what it was about you that captured his fragile little heart. you, the tiny first time nominee at the ama’s.

nct 127 was once again nominated for an award at the western convention, the team touring around the area as well. the red carpet was flooded with cameras, flashes and intense yells for attention was the only thing mark could hear.

but the moment you started walking down the silk road, it was like all of the sound buzzed down to a silence.

❝ my heart has a little crush on you ❞

you were the only thing the boy could see.

your soft pink gown clashed with the intense red on the floor, the pretty floral print around the chest and waist of the dress all the more brought out your skin tone. your hair was left in pretty curls and mark could’ve sworn he saw a pink flower pin somewhere in there too.

the shy smile you let out the moment the paparazzi noticed you made mark’s heart race, hearing them ask you how you felt about your first ama’s since your debut.

so she’s a newbie, mark thought knowing that was the reason he’s never seen you before.

“how does it feel to be nominated for your first award?” a man asked, flashes all around you. your heart was racing with fear.

don’t fuck up now, you thought to yourself before smiling.

“if i’m being honest, i’m terrified.” you answered truthfully, watching as the group of people in front of you nodded in understanding. “but i’m super excited and grateful to be here, so the nerves don’t really matter.” you awkwardly continued as some cooed at your shyness.

“now i must say that’s a beautiful dress you have on.” a woman with a microphone said causing you to blush.

“ahh thank you!” you gushed, turning to her with warm cheeks. “i was scared it might be too much but my stylist insisted i wear it.”

“well you’re stunning.” the woman winked before a certain group of boys caught her eye. “good luck today y/n! hopefully this will be your first win.” she said before floating to the korean boys a couple feet away.

“thank you!” you called out, watching her go to the group of boys ahead of you.

curiosity struck you knowing you had no clue who they were. once you made it past the runway, you sneaked a look at the group only to have your breath taken away.

they were gorgeous, especially the one in the front.

his big brown doe eyes were shining under the lights and even though they were all wearing the same back suit and tie, this boy seemed to stand out to you.

❝ so immature but these butterflies they keep me laughing ❞

“hey lauren?” you nudge your manager. “who’s that?” you secretly point, not wanting to draw attention.

“oh that’s mark lee from nct 127. they’re the korean boy group that’s nominated for an award.” your manager replied.

she then pokes your sides as she smirks. “don’t tell me you have a thing for the canadian dude!” she says and you yelp from the impact.

“HE’S CANADIAN TOO?” you whispered-shouted to the girl, a little taken aback. so he’s handsome and most likely knows how to speak english?

“it’s always the damn canadians.” you grumbled under your breath as your manager laughed knowing this might be the start of something new.

-

“hyung remember that girl from the runway with the pink floral dress?” mark asks one of their managers. the man nods, a little confused by the question.

“how can you not?” the man jokes, mark nodding with a small smile.

“do you happen to know her name?” the boy asks as

his manager gives him a look. “where is this going mark?”

“no where i swear i just want to know who she is.” mark said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“hmm okay well i’m pretty sure her name is y/n.” his manager responds before being asked by another staff member for something.

“y/n.” mark said hazily, liking how your name sounds on his tongue.

-

mark was in love. there was no other way to describe this feeling. while waiting in their waiting rooms for the show to start, mark took the time to look up your music.

and god was he mad he didn’t know who you were before.

your songs were incredible and your voice held a certain fragility that made mark wanna give you a hug.

she better win, he thought to himself as they were ushered out of the waiting room and into the award show.

-

“oh my god oh my god oh my god.” you whispered to yourself as your heart raced. the award you were nominated in was about to be called and you wished you could hide in a hole and disappear from the crowd.

your manager sensed your nerves and squeezed your hand, silently letting you know she’d be there for you through anything. you softly smiled as you felt your nerves subside.

“and the winner is…” the man called out, purposefully slowing down a bit to create suspense.

mark knew this was the category you were nominated in, and the moment they were about to reveal the winner he held his breath.

please be y/n, he thought in his head as the announcer took another breath.

“y/n!” and if it wasn’t for his self-strength, mark could’ve sworn he would’ve jumped up in joy.

❝ my heart wrote a little song for you ❞

mark couldn’t keep his eyes off you throughout the entire award show. in fact, he was a little worried someone would notice because of how painfully obvious he was being.

but it’s not like you were any better. whenever mark would look away, you’d be looking at him.

“just talk to him.” your manager lauren complained, sick of the heart eyes you’d send to the boy.

so oblivious, she thought rolling her eyes. even she had seen the way he’d sneak glances at you as well.

“shhh.” you hushed her, looking around. it was nearing the end of the convention but you didn’t want to risk anyone over hearing her.

“i don’t know laur, he probably hasn’t even noticed me.” you quietly sighed feeling a bit down.

why would he? you’re just a newbie while he’s been in the industry for years.

“oh you’d be surprised.” the girl responded, shaking her head at your stupidity.

-

“are you y/n’s manager?” a man asked, stopping the woman. raising an eyebrow lauren motioned you too keep walking backstage to your dressing room.

how odd, you thought walking away.

“yes i am. why what’s going on.” lauren replied hesitantly.

the man let out a sigh of relief before continuing. “i’m one of the managers for nct 127 and let’s be honest,” he said letting the woman relax. she saw where this was heading.

“mark and y/n are head over heels for each other.” they both said at the same time.

“you noticed mark’s glances?” he asked in surprise.

“duh who wouldn’t?” she replied causing the man to laugh.

“y/n wouldn’t.” he said back causing them two to formulate a plan.

“y/n i have someone i’d like to introduce to you.” your manager said walking into your dressing room. you sat lazily on the couch still in your dress, your toes aching from being in those heels for hours.

“what’s up lauren?” you asked looking up from your phone.

“meet mark from nct 127.”

and just like that your heart jumped.

❝ won’t you take a listen ❞

the two of you stood awkwardly in front of each other not really knowing what to say. your managers had set you up, playing off the fact that they themselves have gotten along quite well and would like for their artists to meet.

“hey-“

“hi-“

you both started at the same time. you immediately flushed rushing to let him go first.

“uh you can go first.” you timidly responded.

“no you.” mark replied just as embarrassed.

“good grief just ask for each other’s numbers.” the two managers hollered in unison, cringing at the awkwardness in the air.

“y-you wanna get lunch sometime soon?” mark asked with sudden confidence.

❝ and dance with me to the rhythm ❞

you smiled causing him to smile back. “duh.”

[chasseuses]

reasons why i love jade leech pt.2

so i guess I'm doing this again.

this is more of a repeat of everything I said in part one but with more sobbing and coherent words.

Jade Leech, Octavinelle's vice dorm leader and the twin brother of Floyd. Many might say that Jade is better than Floyd, although that may seem true to people who don't know him well enough, some people were smart enough to know that Jade was just as bad.

Despite being so fucking shady and nasty, I couldn't help but slowly learn how to love his character. His shadiness is only a part of his charm ❤️ I mean— don't you want that? Don't you just want to look at him and wonder what the fuck is going through his mind right now?

He could be either plotting murder or thinking about tonight's dinner and I would still find his shady expression 🥺 oddly attractive to say the least. I'm being weirdly serious here and typing in lowercase so in a few bullets, expect me to go feral once again.

His eyes are gorgeous. I don't know about you but I get mesmerized everytime I look at them, I swear I could drown in them and never want air ever again. His mismatched eyes,, absolutely beautiful sir please shock my heart eheheh 👉👈 haha jk !!! he doesn't have to use his unique magic to shock my heart bfjfkfjfkfjkffk

His smile is breathtaking, my sun— my light in this dark world of mine. Even if his smile is practiced and insincere, I can't help but go crazy over it. Imagine if he smiled genuinely, no restraints at all as he let out a hearty laugh and a genuine smile took over his expression. I would cry on the spot, I am cryimyfjrkfjkffk.

GOF HELP ME I CAN'T TYPE IN LOWERCASE ANYMORE IM GOING IN CAPSLOCK!!!

I HATE HOW JADE CAN GO FROM HIS USUAL GENTLEMANLY FACE EXPRESSION BUT SUDDENLY SHOOTS YOU A FUCKING SMUG GRIN WHICH SHOWS OFF HIS SHARP TEETH AND SAYS HIS USUAL "Fufu~" LINE LIKE PLEASE 🗿 SHUT THE FUCK UP DON'T SMILE LIKE THAT!!

SPEAKING OF TEETH, MAN I REALLY AM CURIOUS AS TO HOW SHARP THEY ARE. A PART OF ME WANTS TO SHOVE MY HAND INTO HIS MOUTH AND JUST TOUCH THOSE TEETH AND SEE HOW SHARP THEY ARE 🤡 haha imagine if he suddenly bit down tho hahshhhshsdrijfrknfkrgntknffknflfnflffnkfnfkjfkdjfofjddlifjf ok I'll shut up.

I don't think I mentioned it here (i already did) but I am telling you that the idea of someone as composed and reserved as Jade starts pining, IT'S GUARANTEED TO BE SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE 🗿 OH GOD THE THOUGHT OF JADE PINING?? ABSOLUTELY *CHEFS KISS* MAN THAT IS SOME GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE IF YOU SEE ANY PINING JADE PLEASE TAG ME I WILL START CRYIMG

Oh my god. Have I told you how beautiful Jade's lips are? Please please please please look at them they look so nice ahahahha so irresistible and kissable UEEEEEEEEEE

The way his lips are like that 🗿his fucking smile/smirk. GOD GIEV EME THE ABILITY TO KITH THIS MAN JUST ONCE PLEASE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I'M FUCKING CRYING.

Oh my gOD THE WAY HE LOOKS AT MUSHROOMS... THE SOFTEST GAZE... SOMEONE LIKE HE... IS CAPABLE OF HAVING SUCH A SOFT EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE.... PLEASE I WANT TO BE A MUSHROOM IF IT MEANT BEING LOOKED AT BY JADE LIKE THAT.

HE COULD FUCKING SPIT ON ME AND I'D THANK HIM.

I'm ashamed to admit that the earliest reason why I liked Jade Leech was because of his hands. Please forgive me, Lilia-sama. I cannot help but get attracted to such beautiful hands- it was if it was sculpted by the god of sculpting himself! It's such a shame that his gloves cover up its blinding beauty- though my eyes can see through the deceit, I know that his fingers are glorious beneath that piece of cloth. My one and only wish in life is to be able to hold his hand- without the gloves, and that's all for my confession.

^^^^^ I FOUND THAT IN MY DRAFTS

I'M SORRY BUT I JUST REALLY LIKE HIS HANDS OK. LIKE 😳 haha...!! what if we held hands,, without the gloves 😳 haha jk...! unless ...?9£4(_8 UE UE UE UE UE MR. LEECH LET ME HOLD YOUR HAND PLEASE I'M GONNA BEG

UEEEEEEEE I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING YOU WHEN I SAY I WROTE SO MUCH LETTERS FOR THIS EEL I WISH I WAS KIDDING I HAVE LIKE 12 RIGHT NOW GOD I'M SUCH A FUCKING SIMP

st a rts sobbing

pouting jade.

pouting jade.

pouting jade.

WHAT THE FUCKBSJDJDJJ??£?£(_(3(_((_(£(£+£; WHY IS HE SO CUTE INT HSI SCREENSHOT WHAT THE FUCK I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PLEASE THE WAY YOU'RE POUTING RIGHT NOW IS SO CUTE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME SQUEEZE YOU.

I'm fucking crying why the fuck is he so cute gof forbid this man from being so fuvking cute i cannot.

People be telling me: cute?? jade is terrifying.

and I go like: that's cute.

UE UE UE EU UEHFHRJFJJDJF HAVE U GUYS HEARD OF WHAT HE DOES TO PEOPLE HE BETRAY HIM???? I LITERALLY WENT 😳 "ahahahh mr leech i will personally betray you just to make you do that to me" you know. like a simp.

U know what I'm going back to lowercase

His extreme love for mushrooms is probably his comic relief so it doesn't completely make him seem like a shady bitch in the game- it's a surprise as to how cute and vulnerable he can get when he talks about or does something related to his precious fungi. It even goes as far as to make him completely lose his sense of surroundings, which is really rare for someone as observant as him- and usually dangerous sjfbjdbf. It's also EXTREMELY CUTE as to how they made Jade someone who really likes mountains- he even goes as far as to found his own club to appreciate them!!

He has pretty deft hands, being able to create a terrarium and care for it as a hobby is applaudable- not everyone has the ability to do just that, you'd have to be able to be extremely precise and careful, and add a little bit of extreme determination to the mix. He would probably smell like mud from all the time he spends in the greenhouse, and stays up late because of creating terrariums. It shows us that he isn't completely a shitty eel who collects dirt on people as his job and I think that's pretty fucking cute not gonna lie!

There was one voice line of him mentioning that he likes gazing at stars, which was completely unexpected for me! He didn't seem like the type to gaze up at the stars and just- watch! Though I expect him to be always alone whenever he does that- he isn't exactly the most approachable person in NRC, people tend to avoid the Leech twins because of Floyd- mostly. People are just scared of them and I don't think Jade has any friends aside from Azul and Floyd. And I don't think either of them would be willing to stay with him to do just that, Floyd's excuse would be because "it's boring~!" and Azul's would be "I have much more important things to do." And I think that's pretty fucking sad.

God please send me to their world I will watch the stars with him please i love him so much I'm—

BACK TO CAPSLOCK FJDJJEKFJKDJFKRNDKDJFKDFLDJRLFNFLDNFLDFNDLNDLDNFLFOFKDLDKDLDKDK

Look. No amount of words can actually describe my feelings for Jade Leech no words can do my love justice UE UE UE UE which is why I do the second best thing— keysmash.

Please please please I could give him the whole world and it wouldn't do my love for him justice 🗿 UE UE UE UEJFBRKFBTKNFRKFBFKFHJFHFDKHFKDBFKDHFKRBFRKBFRKBRKFBFKFNFKFJFKFJDKFK

I also uh, want him to step on me! Y',)!92+_)£_+ Y'know... He would stomp on my back and dig his heel into my back and probably hurl insults towards me 😳 man. I'd be hIS FUCKING DOORMAT IN A HEARTBEAT.

Omg this is getting long

The first part was much more 🗿🗿🗿🗿🗿 but I still do this anyways.

Anyways. Please stan Jade Leech I love him so much 💕

i would've included my brainrot but ppl would just go 🗿 "taku you really are a jade simp huh" and NO I DON'T WANT THATTTTTTTTT

[perhapsthanatos]

02:47 am with jeno ♡

nct's lee jeno x fem!reader (very heavily inspired by & based on the film howl's moving castle as well as the places portmeirion, wales & dubrovnik, croatia)

alternate title: odd counterpoises

genre: slight angst. mainly fluff. non idol au.

word count: 800+

playlist: landscape with a fairy by aspidistrafly, im gald there is you by julie london & junk by paul mccartney.

warnings: mild cursing. lowercase intended.

a/n: aaaaaa!! hello lovelies :) this is my first time really putting my writings out here so pls do treat me kindly :( but if u have any critiques, pls do let me know bc i really wanna improve & continue! also this was inspired by my landlady from dubrovnik, croatia, i hope shes doing well, i miss her :(

the first quarter moon glows lovingly throughout the old town. the moonlight sneaks through the white cobblestone streets, caressing the climbing roses on the walls and illuminates the night sky for all who are awake at this hour.

the small antique store stays serene and dimly lit as always, even more so now that it is past midnight. the ticking of the grandfather clocks or the additional unexplainable noises can not break the mysterious peace. you have already locked the entrance closed an hour ago, but decided to stay a bit longer, dusting the many shelves of old pieces and relics for tomorrow morning. you even took a little more time to tidy up the porcelain doll named eleanora that meets the customers at the entrance. at first glance, working in an antique store seems like nothing special, especially when you could do other amazing things around the old town. like make hats, blow glass, make pastries and so much more. but an antique store just seems to have something much deeper. each item is their own piece of art and history and each item has their own interesting stories. and as the shopkeeper, you have the honor of giving them a home.

getting distracted from all the dusting, you randomly pull out an old book from one of the shelves. opening the book’s old pages rather curiously, it sends dust flying upwards, obscuring your vision. you take a mental note that books are more dusty than they seem and that you should do something about it tomorrow. but for now, you pat the remaining dust out of the tea stained page and start reading silently.

... in ancient times a giant was wandering along the highway when suddenly a—

“ah! there you are my darling, i was looking everywhere for you. i thought you would be home by now?”

the room suddenly feels cooler in temperature. almost jumping out of your skin, you quickly turn to see a shadow in the darkest area of the store walking towards you wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

you know the feeling all too well. jeno. the infamous, reclusive wizard that you have grown to love. you first met him almost a year ago at the market. he pulled you away from several creepy men who were trying to make some moves on you and since then a friendship (and then a relationship) blossomed between the two of you. you learned that he is the kind of lover who would tease you for the little things and apologize six million times if you acted upset. the kind of lover who would fly to your bedroom window at four in the morning to just listen to you ramble about your recent nightmare. the kind of lover your family would disapprove of due to his reputation, constantly reminding you that he is never up to any good especially because he is a wizard.

“fuck, jeno, don’t do that! i swear i was about to beat you with a book!”

he only snickers and pushes his face further into your neck, humming. “what are you reading anyway, my love?” he asked in a gentle voice which made your heart immediately melt and forget about the initial scare.

“some old book i found when i was tidying up, it seemed interesting,” you answered, your head leaning on his with your bodies swaying slightly. you look over to the other side of the shop where mirrors big and small hung on the wall. you couldn’t help but admire him. he looks regal. another-worldly definition of the word pretty. godly. out of this world. his pink harlequin coat and white dress shirt is worn without any wrinkles. there is not one strand of his long and softly curled blonde hair out of place, his eyes shining and curving into gorgeous crescents.

as much as you loved jeno dearly, a small part of you knew that he wouldn’t stay forever. surely your sadness and the dullness of the past will come again, even stronger when he bids his goodbye, but you choose to not let the inevitable fall ruin the rise. you instead to savor every moment with him, learning and growing in the process.

“lets dance,” you blurt out, rendering him speechless. the swaying stops as he turns to look at you, as if to ask if you were joking.

“right here?”

“yes, right here.”

“with no music?”

“yes, with no music.”

frozen in shock by your sudden boldness, you take him to the center and pull him to you and start swaying. he instinctively puts his hands on your hips while you wrap your arms around his neck, swaying again around the wooden floor of the shop. he smiles wider than ever and follows your lead. your heart bleeds furiously in love and in heartbreak.

oh my beautiful doll, i wonder what song we’re dancing to in your mind. is it in minor? is it in major? is it in adagio? is it in allegro? is it as lovely as mine? i hope it is.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[chaes-tea]

Height Differences [Soulmate!Mingyu]

a friend of mine (she knows who she is) sent me a list of prompts one night and we we’re talking about some of them. i ended up writing this in half an hour, so it’s pretty raw. 

(i swear my grammar is normally better than this but i felt like doing everything in lowercase. i guess that’s what happens when i see one too many memes in one night.)

(also i kind of stray away from the prompt a tiny bit but it’s okay)

soulmate!mingyu x reader

[bulletpoint, fluff/”crack”]

prompt: somehow i’m in your body and you’re in mine and shit man being this close to the ground is fucked up. 

- k so you and tall boi gyu here are soulmates 

- you guys found out when you randomly woke up in one another's room and were like wtf did i get abducted??? 

- it was so awkward for the both of you because mingyu was back from school to visit and you had relatives staying over 

 - also it didn't help that YOU TWO WERE ON DIFFERENT CONTINENTS SADLFJASGDJHKAG 

- you lived in MURICA while gyu lived in south korea so all of a sudden when you woke up to a lil girl saying stuff to you in korean you were like i'm??? who?? you are?? 

- mingyu was also like that except he said some weird shit like "i'm so tired, i'm so tired, i'm so tired" with an accent and your parents were like stfu 

- so over time you two figured out that this only happened because you two were sleeping at the same time, so you had to coordinate sleep patterns 

 - the funny thing is that you two talked to each other by translating each others' texts and you somehow both had the idea to text each other 

- like wow great minds think alike?? amazing 

- you know each others' friends and they can tell when you two switch because you guys are honestly opposites

- so this went on for a few years and was really hard to keep up with especially since you both became university students with very inconsistent sleep schedules 

- you read somewhere online that soulmate bonds stop happening when you finally meet your soulmate so you texted gyu at like 3am and he replies like "wait shouldn't u be asleep the fuck???" 

- and you were like "hey if we meet up we don't have to deal with this shit anymore" 

- "sounds like a good plan i don't like being in your body anyways i feel so short it's so fucking annoying" 

- "BOI STOP INSULTING ME I'LL KNOCK U OUT" 

- "right right" 

- so you two arrange to meet up 

- he ends up going to you because over time his english became better than your korean asdjfhasdjhs 

- so you picked him up from the airport and when your parents met him THEY WERE IN LOVE 

- you we’re like "dude are u sure ur my soulmate and not theirs"

- but its okay you now know that gyu is indeed very nice

 - sometimes he's annoying af but he makes good food so you don't complain 

- also he likes hugging you in his sleep and he feels like a warm blanket 

- you're not gonna complain about that too because you get cold easily 

- but a week passes by and he has to go back 

- your parents let you send him off after you pried them off of him 

- you honestly grew attached to this giant dork so you felt kinda sad that he had to leave

- "i guess this is goodbye for now" 

- "i guess it is; maybe next time i'll go to korea" 

- he hugs you and pats your head 

- "yeah, maybe next time. i'll see u then, midget" 

- ok maybe you still wanted to kick his ass

[ourpieceoutoftime-blog]

Rules

Hi! :D And thanks for reading my rules! Please don’t be discouraged if this post seems long, I swear I’m not a hard-ass! Most if not all of my rules come down to ‘don’t be a dick ooc’ and use common sense. The rest mostly info about me and how I rp. There is other important stuff thrown in there too like a rules password and info about how this blog runs (spoilers, it runs on a queue!). I feel bad having to include a password, but I’ve had people lie about reading my rules before and so it’s best to include it for my own anxiety and sake.

General

Don't be a dick occ

IC does not equal ooc; the muse(/s) does not equal the mun! I do not share all of their views nor do I condone all of their actions.

No godmodding or powerplay. No forced ships.

All hate will be deleted and the person/anon will be blocked. I do not participate in callout culture and will unfollow for vague blogging and the alike.

I hold the right to drop threads with you or not accept your meme/starter call-like, as do you as well (and not just with me!).

Please cut your posts down to 2 replies (the one you’re reblogging the post with and my previous one), unless you’re on mobile. If you’re using gifs/icons I will assume you’re on a computer of some kind and will probably put in the tags or IM you about cutting the post.

This blog is very much OC and crossover friendly! This blog is multi-ship and multi-verse!

All triggers I can think of will be tagged with ‘thing tw’ when/if they come up. Please do not hesitate to tell me (even on anon) your triggers for me to tag! I do not have any myself.

Excluding rape, for obvious reasons (just NO), I am all for darker themes/threads. Give me ALL the angst!

I do accept and will write with OC partners of my canon characters, or OC companions of the Doctor (11 or 13). But, the first thread we have will be set whenever they first meet in your OCs backstory, so that I can get a feel for how our muses mesh together.

I do accept and will write with OC children of my canon characters as long as the OC child has a detailed about page. I need to be able to get a good feel for them to know how my muse is/will be with them. For reference, a ‘detailed’ about page would be more then just stats about your character, or more then a few small paragraphs about how they were created.

I do accept and will write with duplicates of my canon characters!

I do accept and will write with dash-only blogs.

I track my url as a tag.

I tend to mainly write multi-para to novella threads. Short(er) threads are hard for me to do (see under ‘Person Rules and How I RP’ for more info) and so I generally do not write them.

Due to Tumblr’s new Community Guidelines as of Dec 17th, 2018, there will be NO smut on this blog!! I know it says written erotica is still allowed, but I’ve seen blogs deleted for less, so I’d just rather not take the chance! Any and all threads going in that direction will be moved over to Discord if my RP partner has one and is comfortable with adding me as a friend there. If not, we’ll simply do a time-skip and continue the thread here on Tumblr.

My Discord is open to people I’ve talked to before or have a thread with. Just send me an IM asking for it!

This blog runs on a queue. (see under ‘Queue’ for more info)

Personal Rules and How I RP

Please use proper spelling and grammar to the best of your abilities. I have a learning disability called ‘dysgraphia’ which makes sentences with little to no proper grammar or bad spelling very hard for me to read. Please just do your best, as do I (if there are spelling/grammar mistakes in my replies, this is why!).

You do NOT need to match my length, but if I write multiple paragraphs and you reply with less than one (or with 2 lines posing as 2 ‘paragraphs’), I will be dropping our thread. Once is fine, but over and over will result in a drop.

I generally don’t do shorter/one-liner type threads unless I know the mun. I tend to ramble, as do my muses. This makes shorter threads hard for me and so I’ve decided to just no longer do them. RP is supposed to be a fun hobby anyway! I do sometimes have shorter threads as, in those cases, I know the mun behind the blog and am comfortable and willing to hold myself back and write less. If you mainly write shorter threads, I highly recommend NOT following me!

I don’t care what type of format you use, but the most I will do is make my reply small once.

I will NOT write with/make a greeter starter for blogs who;

do not have at least a rules or about page/post (as in one or the other, but both is always preferred)*

*This rule is applicable to even mobile-only or dash-only blogs.

only write in no-caps style (as in all lowercase sentences)

write in small-small text or sub-text (too small for me to read!)

say somewhere on their blog that they don’t read people’s rules or don’t send in rule passwords (since I have one)

Opens, Starter Calls, Memes, etc

Open starters, starter calls, memes, etc are always open to everyone. And I really mean everyone! It doesn’t matter if I’m following you or not (this blog is not mutuals only!), if we’ve interacted before or not, if you’re a canon or OC blog, if your characters are from the same shows mine are or not, if you’re following me or not, if you’re over or under 18, whatever! It does not matter! I am open to writing with just about everyone! Unfortunately, there is a but here...

But, if we haven't interacted before and you’ve yet to send me in my password, I’ll be hitting you up either by ask or IM asking you to read over this post before I reply/make your starter.

I do not practice Reblog Karma, so no worries about sending in a meme before reblogging it!

Replies to any of my opens are moved to it’s own post on my reply (for my thread tracker).

Please feel free to turn meme answers into threads! I love that! I don’t personally care if it’s on the same original post or a new one.

Greeter Starters

I make greeter starters for every rp blog who follows me and sends me my password. I have a starter list and so you will be added to it then (as I will say in replying to your ask/IM).

I’m not a mind reader, so if you want your starter from a specific muse, or if you want to plot beforehand, all you gotta do is let me know!

I generally use a gif in my starters, but you can use whatever you want (or nothing!). If you use icons or gif icons, I’ll switch to those if I can find them of my muse’s FC! No worries!

Following

I am not selective in who I write with, but I am selective about who I follow/follow back. Not following/following back does NOT mean I don’t want to write with you! Generally, I wait until a new rp partner has replied to my greeter starter before following, just so that I can see how our characters and writing styles mesh. But, overall, I tend to not follow/follow back if you don’t cut your posts (even if because your mainly on mobile). Sometimes I’ll follow/follow back before making my starter for you if I see that you also write multi-para threads.

Queue

As mentioned under ‘General’, this blog runs on a queue. 5 threads will be posted each day with other things in between such as pictures of my muses and promos of my partners. The queue posts something every hour (except for midnight).

Sometimes my queue runs out. It sucks, but when that happens, I do my very best to fill it up again and start it as soon as possible!

ALL thread replies will be thrown into my queue. The only exception to this is starters I make or replying to a starter made for me, as posting them right away makes it easier to then add them to my rp tracker.

Threads are done from oldest to newest and are put into the queue in that order.

My rules password is ‘Time is Relative’. If you’ve made it this far please send it in to me through an ask or IM. Either is fine and welcome and will be replied to privately by me! :D

Disclaimers

I do not own any of the gifs/icons/pictures used on this blog. Some of the pictures in my theme have been edited by myself, but I do not own them nor do I claim to.

I reblog gif/icon hunts to my personal side blog, as well as fandom things, pictures of my muses, etc (found here).

[jihooniie]

like a spirit

lowercase intended

unedited (edited 2/24/18)

a/n: oof i didn’t write that much at all but this was an iffy attempt at writing something studio ghibli themed. i also need more wannable friends so feel free to shoot me a dm! 

disclaimer: the moodboard was created by me but the photos used are not mine.

wandering into the nearby forest has always been part of your summers. every year, during summer vacation, you would head off to your godmother’s home. staying in your hometown was boring since your parents always worked and rarely had days off. their bosses were awfully strict so there wasn’t anything they could do even though they wish there was. they decided that sending you to your godmother’s was the best choice as a change of scenery might just be enough to keep you entertained.

as you followed the steps that would lead you further into the woods, you swore you heard something nearby. you quickly turned around only to spot nothing. 

“stop overthinking things (y/n). you’ve wandered into here for the past 4 years. there’s nothing to be afraid of.” you thought to yourself in hopes of comforting yourself. turning back around, you continued walking deeper into the woods. little did you know, you were being watched.

reaching your little personal hangout, you let out a sigh of relief. everything seemed to be the same compared to the last time you’ve been here. you were glad that no one happened to stumble upon it and mess it up. standing still, you took a minute to close your eyes and take in the smells and sounds that surrounded you.

you could hear the trickle of the nearby stream that was accompanied by the cicadas and other bugs like a melody. birds chirped and sang adding their own parts to the song. you could smell the wet, earthy and musky smell that you would have never gotten to experience if you remained in the city. the sweet smell of the evergreens and other trees tickled your nose as well.

opening your eyes to finally closely observe the surrounding, you noticed a boy looking at you with curiosity right besides your hangout. you let out a gasp and took a step back in shock. where had he appeared from? the boy looked just as surprised as you were and looked around frantically.

“y-you can see me?” he questioned you.

you slowly nodded in response. “of course, i mean who can’t? you’re out in broad daylight.” 

the boy avoided meeting your eyes and stuttered out a “sure” as if he was trying to convince himself more than you. “...i’m jihoon, what’s your name? i’ve never seen you around.” he asked awkwardly.

“i’m (y/n)! i only come here during the summer since i’m from the city.” you slowly walked over to him. “i see you’ve discovered my hideout.” 

“i swear i haven’t been messing around with it! in fact, i’ve been making sure the tent doesn’t get too dirty and that the fairy lights don’t cause a forest fire.” he frantically defended himself. after a little pause he added “i guess you can say i was guarding this place from any strangers even though i’m one myself..”

he stared at his shoes while waiting for a reply from you to only be met with laughter. “it’s okay, i didn’t accuse you of anything! thank you though, i really appreciate it since i’m always worried someone will come along and destroy it.” you reassured him. “i guess this is no longer my personal space anymore so let’s make it belong to the two of us. you seem nice and i would love to get to know you better.” you stated.

in response, he stared at you with pink cheeks as if you were a goddess standing in front of him. “are you sure?...i don’t want to intrude..” he squeaked out nervously.

“of course! after all i wouldn't have mentioned it if i wasn’t sure.” you reassured him once again. “feel free to be make yourself at home with me!”

“um..okay if you say you’re absolutely fine with it” he quietly muttered in reply.

the rest of the evening began awkwardly as the two of you tried to get to know each other but he soon warmed up to you. giggles and loud shouts soon occupied the air as you guys cracked jokes. his bright smiles felt like it lit up the entire place and the sound of his booming laughter was contagious. who would have thought the shy boy from before was also this open and carefree?

as nighttime began to fall upon you two, you told him you had better get started on your walk back home. he understood and told you he’ll be waiting for you here again tomorrow and you agreed you would come to meet him.

“i feel like he’s hiding something and i’m determined to find out. after all, i think i’m starting to develop feelings for him and the best chance i’m going to get is to get to know him better..” you thought. you knew this summer was going to be much more memorable than all of your other summers simply because you meet jihoon this time. 

you were still in range with the hideout and so you looked back one last time. however, what you noticed was mysterious...jihoon was no longer there anymore. there was no other way out of the forest but he was gone...almost like a spirit.

-

part two (coming hopefully soon)

[writing-radionoises]

Wifi Connection

Hi! I'm Stan Marsh, I'm sixteen, male, and questioning my sexuality! Looking for friends :) He swears he's scrapped and retyped the exact same sentence over and over, wondering if it was good enough for his Instagram as he sat in the corner of his new and empty room, silently. Stan Marsh, sixteen, male, questioning. Stan Marsh, sixteen, male, questioning. Stan Marsh, sixteen, male, questioning. The info is ingrained in his mind, almost wishing he still lived with his dad so maybe he could break in and steal some of his wine or something. Stan Marsh has lived in South Park all his life, his mother eventually divorced his drunk of a father and moved far away from South Park, though. Stan, his mother, and his sister have been living in New York city for about a month now. He starts school next week, and honestly, there is nothing Stan was more scared of currently. For the first time ever, Stan Marsh was about to do something without Kyle. His very best friend, who was stuck in South Park with his dad and all his friends. His entire life, since fucking diapers, Stan and Kyle have done everything together. Hell, the ginger was the reason he began questioning his sexuality. Probably the same reason he even discovered his love for music. After moving, the only contact he has left with his very best friend is through Skype. Even so, it was rare he was able to talk to his ginger friend. And when he did, Kyle was often joined by his little brother, Kenny, or sometimes even Cartman. Sure, Stan was just happy to end to see his friend at all, but really wished he could talk to him in private, or even face to face again.   A knock on the door startled the noirette as he looked towards it. "Stan, dinner's ready and on the table. Come down when you feel like," said the soft voice of his mother. "Okay, I'll be down soon," he responded, falling silent until he heard his mother walk away from the door, then standing up. He scanned the empty room, his eyes then landing on the guitar in the corner, then picking it up. It was covering in little stickers, along with a signature from his father and one from Kyle. Kyle's handwriting was curvy, lots of loops and such. His dad's signature, which had been signed with his stage name, is much more messy. It resembles his own handwriting, the lowercase letters looking more rushed, the capital letters barely even looking like letters. Without even realizing it at first, his hands began to half-mindedly pluck at the strings, forming some kind of melody that eventually brought words into his mind. Placing the guitar aside and jumping up, Stan rushed to find a notebook and pen, beginning to scribble down music notes and lyrics. It was a strange feeling to actually be able to write a song, or anything resembling it, for the first time in many, many months. Kyle used to help him, writing down lyrics and guitar chords when he played. They'd look over songs together, Kyle pointing out good things about the songs and such to outweigh the negativity Stan pointed out. It was a nice memory. Laying in the curly ginger's lap, holding up sheet music and blabbering on and on about how bad it was, how he'd never be like his dad or anything, only to be shushed by the other and be told how beautiful his voice was because it was his voice and no one else's. It was well past his normal bedtime by the time Stan actually felt satisfied with the lyrics and music, though he cared not. In the morning, Stan was awoken by his sister, who was saying something he couldn't quite comprehend. Though, he sat up from sitting on the floor, rubbing at his eyes and standing up. He walked downstairs and grabbed the cup of coffee on the table, taking a sip as he looked around the kitchen, figuring his mother was already at work. "Dad called you earlier. I don't know what he want'th, but thoguht you might wanna known," said Shelly, practically ripping her hair out instead of brushing it. Stan nodded, heading upstairs to hole up in his room once again. He opened up his laptop, logging in and quickly regretting so as he saw his background, biting his lip. It was one of the very last pictures he had of his group of friends. Kenny sat on her knees in the snow, her hood down and long, blonde hair a mess as she smiled widely. Cartman laid against Kenny, looking bored as he fiddled with his gloves. Standing above Kenny and Cartman was Stan and Kyle, Stan clinging onto the shorter one for balance. Even though it was likely he was at least tipsy during that photo, it's definitely his favorite. The noirette opened Skype, the app already on Kyle's profile. Super Best Friend // You are you, and that's what's amazing about you <3 A slight smile came to his face as he remember what he set Kyle's name as. The last conversation they had was about how Cartman seemed to be bullying Kyle even more now that Stan was gone, to which Stan quickly ignored the responses to avoid a mood drop. Not Craig's brother: Hey Kyle, you awake? I wanna show you something. After sending this message, Stan looked through his other friends' profiles. Best Girl // You're pretty either way! Stan smiled a bit, he could  almost hear Kenny's optimistic and bright voice once again, yelling at Cartman about something. The last conversation being about her saving enough to finally get top surgery. Fat tits // Not sure if I'm mentally or physically ill but it's all good Cartman wasn't the best to talk to, sure, but it was nice to actually see his contact. Though, it's pretty clear he isn't usually active on Skype. When he is, he mainly just spams his contact list with a bunch of memes or something. There was a bing that brought Stan back to reality, quickly going back to Kyle's profile. Super Best Friend: Hey! Good morning :) Super Best Friend: I'm home alone for awhile, so sure! Not Craig's brother: Okay! Give me a moment, I'll call you Stan stood up and grabbed his guitar once again, along with the sheet music he'd written last night. He set the stuff behind his laptop, backing it away from his body as he called the ginger. Kyle immediately answered, a bright smile on his freckled face. His red hair was a mess, as always, though it made Stan want to brush it, run his fingers through the other boy's hair once again in some attempt to tame it. His green eyes glittered with tiredness, yet happiness. Obviously, Kyle had just woken up. He was still in pajamas and clinging onto a pillow. Stan waved. "Good morning sunshine, you obviously look the best right now," he snickered softly, to which Kyle shrugged. "Man, you've seen me look worse. We used to have sleepovers like every weekend, and that included weekends where I felt fucking awful," he answered, Stan nodding in understanding, "Though, good morning to you too." The noirette smiled, suddenly being brought back to reality once again as Kyle asked what he wanted to show him. Stan gave a soft "oh," then grabbing his guitar and sheet music from behind the computer. "I . . . Ended up actually writing something last night instead of trying to drown out my thoughts, haha . . . I'm really used to showing you my work, so I thought you'd like to hear . . ." He drifted off into thought, brown eyes looking off into a distance. The two fell silent for a moment before Kyle spoke once again, "Of course I would, I'm always eager to see what you've done with that guitar of yours." Stan nodded once again, taking a breath before beginning to play the tune he had written down. "I knew you once, and it was nice. I knew your brain and your heart, all your insides. Oh, I could tell, just with a look, what you were thinking. That's all it took. You shared your secrets, and I shared mine. Silence was comfy, without having to try . . . We swapped our smiles, gifted advice . . . Yes, I knew you once. And it was nice . . ." The ginger stayed in awe at the words, his green eyes wide open in slight shock that the noirette even wrote something like that. For about as long as Stan had been doing music, Kyle had known him to do complicated songs, similar to things you'd hear on the radio. Yet, somehow, a song so short and soft seemed to bring more emotion than all his past songs combined. "Stan . . . You should start posting songs on the internet. You could get money out of doing this and maybe . . . Maybe . . ." Kyle drifted into thought, biting his lip as Stan tilted his head to the side. "'Maybe' what?" He questioned. "And maybe you could come back to South Park."

Song: I Knew You Once - Dodie Clark 

[ecotone99]

[MF] Sunday Scaries

The conversation formatting doesnt hold on reddit copy paste, so its much better read thru link

Linking at Top to not spoil the end - hope thats OK!

https://www.casualblasphemy.com/blog/sundayscaries

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Jesus Christ and Other Swear words

Volume II: Anxiety Rainbow

A Slower Burn to Fiery Finish. About 10-15 minutes

Chapter 2, 3 or 7, not sure yet.

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Chapter III: Sunday Night Scream Into the Void

I lie (awake) to myself

A feeling of impending doom. So many emails. Existential dread and the Sunday Scaries.

I cannot sleep, it is nearly midnight. I have so much to do this week.

I lie awake and try to think of all the embarrassing things other people have done.

I can't think of any, so I go back to remembering my own social failings.

The time I tripped in front of my Crush age 14. My disastrous bangs of just last year. The time I mispronounced Worcheschertshishire in front of my cute coworker. The 23 blocks I walked with toilet paper stuck to my foot and that afternoon tanning in the park with a tampon string dangling from my bikini bottoms. Everyone remembers. I am sure of it. I farted once on a conference call.

Monday is only a few hours away. So many emails and the dishes sit soaking for a third day. I shouldn't have slept in today. I have so much to do tomorrow. I think about every time i've fucked up in my past 30 years.

My anxiety builds and I try again to refocus my attention. I try to remember all the embarrassing things other people have done, but I literally cannot think of any. I sort of remember one of my friends shitting his pants. Was that the day I walked into the sliding glass door. Do you think he remembers? Oh god, was it me that poped my pants? Oh jeez, i said poped, not pooped. Im talking out loud to myself.

Thank god no one is here.

I feel lonely.

----

I eat a CBD chocolate and feel the anxiety of impending doom. So many emails.

I remember. I remember every embarrassing thing I have done in my entire life. I have so much to do this week. So many emails. I have a meeting tomorrow and I don't feel prepared. That time I was left hanging for a high five with my hand in the air. I looked like Hitler with no friends. It is Sunday and life is Scary. So much to do this week. Were they laughing at me? I feel lonely. No one talked to me today. I feel like the Pluto of my friend group.

I decide to crowdsource some self esteem and climb on Tinder.

Left

Left

Right

Match!

Left

Left

Oh damn this guy is hot.

Damn, 5’10

Left

Right

Match!

Left

Left

Right

Match!

Right

Match!

Right

Match!

Every time I swipe right it's a Match. I feel attractive and desirable

Left

Left

ew

Left

Left

Double ew!

Left

Right

Right

Nothing. What!?

I lower my standards

Right

Right

Right

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing

Sunday Feels Scary Again. I have so much to do tomorrow. I don't want to play the game anymore. I fear rejection from strangers. Kinda horny tho. I survey my matches and read messages:

“Hey”

“Wanna Fuck?”

“Nice weather Today”

“Show me your bobs?”

“Nice Feet”

A profile stands out

Blake

6”2’ “Ive never shoed a horse, but I told a Cow to go home once”

I don't really get it, but he's HOT. That fish he caught is HUGE! I climb out of my comfort zone and message first. I've never done this before

“Hey” she wrote with butterflies

….

…….

………..

18 minutes pass. Nothing.

I go back to swiping unenthusiastically

Right

Right

Nothing.

I feel like a Moth in a world of Butterflies. Undesirable.

OH GOD. I research gravity blankets and take a xanax. I think of Cocoons.

I fall asleep lonely horny disappointed anxious and 8% numb. So many emails. Maybe I can do the dishes tomorrow after work, the gym, and picking up my prescriptions. I shouldn't have messaged him. I need groceries. That time I tripped on the bleachers and Becky laughed at me. I run through the grocery list in my head. Eggs, avocados, kombucha, spinach, Shame, paper towels, CBD chocolates. I feel weird.

------

I survive another week with espresso and antidepressants. It was hard. I am so tired. I am so tired all the time. Its sunday night and I feel The Doom coming again. I batten the hatches and prepare to wait out the emotional storm under the weight of my new Gravity Blanket. Its heavy and sweaty and I regret buying it. My anxiety rises to new highs and I feel like an idiot. Thank god no one is here. I feel lonely.

Ping!

Blake: :Me

“Hey ;) still up?”

I think about unmatching to teach him a lesson for not replying to me last week, but digital or not, I really need this distracting attention.

“Maybe ;) whatcha doing?”

Trying not to think about Monday LOL

LOLOL Same Same. Sunday Scaries :o

LOL I KNOW! Just gotta get through this week,

I am getting a puppy on Friday!

Puppy! What kind!?

A Frenchi :) her name is Luna

OMG NEED!

You have any pets?

Nooooo :(

You can come play with mine!

Cats or Dogs?

YES PLZ! I grew up with dogs :)

What was the name of your first pet?

Daisy :) she was so sweet

Awww, where did you grow up?

Seattle, just moved for a new job

It's hard being in a new city!

Well I can show you around!

What is your job?

Never been to Seattle, were you born there?

Born in Suburbia, lol

a little town nearby called Auburn

I work for a company that has meetings

I have a friend from Auburn!

LoL what do you meet about?

No way!

We meet about other meetings

Yea, did you got to Westside Elementary?

Eastside

Oh nice, her mom was a teacher there

Did you have Mrs. Ellison for 1st grade English?

I don't remember a Mrs. Ellison?

I had a Mr. Gardner

Oh lol. U like cars?

Sort of

I just got a new one :)

What was the make and model of your first car?

Wow! You are having quite the year!

Lol 1994 black honda civic. The dream

You sound like a Capricorn

Virgo!

Oh nice, when is your birthday?

August 24th, 1990

Just got a pic of my puppy, wanna see?

OMG YES

206-390-0345

I like Capricorns ;)

Oh god that sounded desperate

Texted you

Didn't get it!

Tried again

Nothing :(

Lol new phone too, I think its fucked tho

Whats your email, I wanna show you my bb pup!

Lol look at you Mr. New

[VeganJessica3@gmail.com](mailto:VeganJessica3@gmail.com)

….

……

……..

Did you send it?

…..

Hello?

Fal Asleep? lol

Ping!

An email arrives to my racing heart. He's so inquisitive! New car and a puppy! I wonder what he does for a living? Such a Gentleman, that was a whole hour of texting and he didn't even ask for nudes. I click the notification but my email won't open.

Please login to continue. I type my password “Daisy123”

Incorrect password/email combination

Please try again

Oh, is it lowercase?

******3

Please Try Again

*****3

Please Try Again

******3

Please Try Again

Ugh im so tired, I can't even type right. I'll leave it for morning

--------

MondayVegan Jessica III sleeps well in dreams of Blake, Frenchi’s and Avocados under the weight of her anti-anxiety gravity blanket. She wakes with a smile and grabs her phone eagerly.

Please Try Again

Please Try Again

Vegan Jessica III eats her last free-range Avocado on a piece of whole-wheat gluten-free non-cruelty noGMO carboloaf. Num!

Please Try Again

Fucking Annoying!

I switch over to my work email and begin responding to CC threads as I walk to the train. I meet with my team and we plan our next meeting. We have a great plan to plan.

I get home exhausted. I am so tired. We met for three hours and planned for three more days of planning meetings about meeting plans. I log in to tinder and check my messages. Nothing. I take a xanax and go to sleep. The dishes are molding and i'm out of avocados.

Tuesday

I wake stressed and skip breakfast. I head into work and drink espresso. We meet again to discuss our plan to plan. Everything goes as planned and we adjourn. I get out of work 15 minutes early and swing by CVS Pharmacy for LaCroix and drugs.

Some freak in a fedora oggles my breasts through my oversized sweater. What is he even looking at?

“Hi, yes, prescription pickup for Vegan Jessica III. It should have been called in Monday”

“Sure thing, insurance and ID please. Have a seat, it'll be about 15 minutes”

Pharmacists are just drug baristas, change my mind. I wait 45 minutes for the man in the never-dirtied lab coat to grab a prepackaged bottle of prozac from the wall. I hand him my credit card.

“Im sorry Ma’am, your card was declined, do you have another?”

The word ‘Ma’am’ turns three of my pubic hairs grey. It makes me kind of miss that creep in the fedora surveying my body.

Are you sure? Can you try again

Yes ma’am, the card is declined. Do you have another Ma’am?

Ma’am

Can you try calling them? I left my debit at home and don't have any cash.

I glance at my Fitbit. The time is 6:01pm

Its after 6pm Ma’am, you'll have to wait till tomorrow.

I leave the CVS and the pharmacists spends the next 30 minutes placing the bottle of pills back on the shelf.

----

I go home feeling frustrated. I skip the mailbox, dishes, dustbunnies and head straight for my bed. I pull the gravity blanket over my head like a ghost and feel a little better. I eat a half a pound of CBD chocolate and feel much better.

I log into Tinder. Fucking Blake ghosted. Unmatched. Under my blanket I get scared of ghosts and eat another ¼ pound of CBD chocolate.

Wednesday

I wake feeling like shit. I don't know why. I feel stressed. I call in sick to work and take a xanax and go back to bed. I awake to a phonecall from an unknown number. Fucking spamassrobocalls. I scream FUCK YOU to 1s and 0s. There's a panic rising in my throat.

I haven't checked my personal email in days now and try to log back in. I click password recovery and an email is sent to my old college email | [VegetarianJessica@college.edu](mailto:VegetarianJessica@college.edu). Ugh I can't believe I used to eat honey and drink milk with my coffee; I feel ashamed of my former self. It feels like a Sunday, but it's only wednesday.

I try to login to my old college email to recover my password for my post-college email.

I try to remember my old password

Please Try again

I try all my old combinations

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Lockout timer 29:59..

29:58….

29:57….

Ugh I hate this shit.

Trying to recover a password to recover a password. Did I type it wrong? Was it capitalized? Am I just not remembering it right? Was the ‘I’ a “!” ?? Was there 123 at the end, or maybe beginning?

I need to set my passwords to things I can never forget. Maybe take a lesson from Sunday. Shame and Trauma seem to make for fantastic passwords.

MyFatherAbandonedOurFamilyIn1997!

That's not something im likely to forget

I spend the next 29 minutes finally doing the dishes and feel a little better.

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Lockout timer 59:59

FUCK

I hate this shit. I click the password recovery button on my college email and a third is sent to my very first email address. [Jessica1990AuburnWA@aol.com](mailto:Jessica1990AuburnWA@aol.com)

I go to AOL.com and try to login

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

Please Try again

It feels like im opening those Russian Dolls. Every time I open one, another is there. The Russian Nesting Dolls of Digital Frustration. Please Try Again Later.

Recover the password

to recover the password

to recover the password

Please Try Again

I channel my frustration and hit the gym. Pilates class with Pontious. I stop on the way home and Scream into the Void. I feel a little better.

I check the mailbox before the stairs.

I turn the key and an avalanche spills out. Envelope after envelope, it seems unending. They just keep coming. The cascade flow dries to a dribble and I reach inside to scoop the rest of my mail out.

My arms are full of dead trees and I feel sad. Plus its like super heavy after an hour of cross planking. I ascend the stairs and unlock the door with my keys in my mouth. I push the door open with my forehead and dump the heavy mess of envelopes and magazines on the floor.

A Victoria Secret catalogue catches my eye. I make a mental note of my despise for their company message and start perusing the pages. What kind of image are they putting in the heads of young girls. False standards of beauty. Where are the real women! That bra is like super cute tho. I order three in different colors but my card is declined. The bras never come, its ok tho, they wouldn't have fit me anyway.

When my card is declined I think of Blake’s rejection again. Ghosted. What an asshole. Whatever he's probably just another pig who gets off to Victoria Secret models and supports an impossible standard of beauty. I am now convinced Victoria’s real Secret is mainstream distribution of introductory pornography to young boys in suburbia. That's a big mental leap to take from subquality prethought, but I think it's important to note where some of these idolized false standards of beauty start. They start with aging young Mother’s ordering VS products and catalogs to catch renewed interest from their lazily inattentive husbands and trickledown pornoEconomics recycles the catalogs to prepubescent boys. Hidden and stolen, they are a prime middle-school currency. The image of Desire becomes fixed in pubescent development and the path upscycles again.

I throw the catalog away disgusted and pick up my copy of the much more realistic Vogue. I eat more CBD chocolate and forget to call my credit card company. I fall asleep with fragrant advertisements and two miles of photoshop-smoothed Gigi Hadid legs on my face.

Friday

It's a beautiful morning and i'm feeling rested. I don't know what happened to Thursday. We have a brief meeting about next week's meeting and are dismissed early. Summer Fridays are the best! I meet up with my besties and we dress up to impossible standards of beauty.

Thin pink straps patterned with “VS VS VS” loop my shoulders out of my strapless black dress. Clash is in. I think it looks cute even tho the bra doesn't fit well. I lace up my gladiator platform cork wedges and we head out for a night of dancing.

I dance next to my ugliest friend and bask in double attention.

Buy you a Drink?

Wanna Dance?

Ever Ride a Motorcycle?

All eyes on me. I dance and twirl and snort the night away. This cocaine is fantastic. My credit card still doesn't work so I have boys buy me drinks. I black out a bit and wake up in my Uber home. Its light out and the birds won't shut up about the stupid sun. My heart is beating arhythmically and I feel weird. A feeling of impending doom is brewing and it makes me feel weirder - it's not even Sunday.

I sober up a bit, but can't sleep. I decide to finish the vial of cocaine I took from that boy and do some housekeeping.

I take the trash out and open my computer. I feel inspired to clean and conquer.

I will recover my password!

I see a button for ‘alternate recovery options’ on my ancient @aol email and click

A series of questions challenge my identity

“Date of Birth”

August 24th, 1990

“What was the name of your first Pet?”

Daisy

“What was the name of your 1st grade English Teacher?

Mr. Gardner

“What City Were you Born in?”

Auburn

“What was the Make and Model of your First Car?”

1994 Black Honda Civic

And just like that I'm in! I recover my password and recover my password and recover my password.

The russian dolls reassemble and my anxiety plummets

--------

----

---

Until I open Gmail to a Nightmare

The realization grips me. The Saturday Scaries are Real. I spring to the 4 foot foyer of my apartment where the non-fashion-catalog remainder of my mail avalanche sits piled like rubble.

I rifle through envelopes and cut my finger. It really stings. I suckle a droplet of blood and read the envelopes

Chase | Amex | Credit Karma | MasterCard | Kohls Discover Card | ATT | SPRINT | T-Mobile

Bills. Bills of all kinds. Bills of all shapes and sizes. Bills Not mine, but mine. An acre of rainforest in bills.

My iphone rings and my phone wont open. Panic Panic Panic. Saturday Scaries. I pull my bleeding finger from my mouth and the iphone recognizes my face. I answer the call

“Ma’am i'm calling from TransUnion Credit Reporting, we've seen some unusual activity on your report this week, can you confirm opening the following 227 Credit Cards on Sunday between the hours of 11pm and 4am Monday Morning?”

(This phone call 97% actually happened)

My vision spots and I hit the floor.

___

I awake Sunday. My head is throbbing and my finger hurts. I look at the papercut and it stares back with green eyes. It smells like Almond Butter, but the gross GMO kind. I put CBD oil on it and leave the house.

I head to the hospital, but my credit card is declined. My finger is green to the knuckle and it definitely feels like a Sunday.

I head home and curl up in my bed. With my green arm I pull the gravity blanket over my head and cry. I fall asleep feeling scared and not safe.

I wake to pain. The green has spread throughout my whole body. I feel weak. I need to go to work. So many emails.

I feel The DOOM

I try to lift the gravity blanket, but I am weak and it is too heavy.

The longer I stay, the weaker I become. Days pass and I miss meeting after meeting. I sweat profusely trapped inside a cocoon of anxiety. Unseen emails pile up and add to the weight. My phone is out of battery and I can't reach past the blanket for my charger. I need water. I really need water.

I feel The DOOM

I think of blood poisoning and my plummeting credit scoreThe Chrysalis hardens to reject the outside world

It becomes my Tomb. I feel safe here.

Immune to Anxiety

No emails, no meetings.

The DOOM fades to black and so do I.

submitted by /u/Beerandcabfare [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2QcBhf7

[perhapsthanatos]

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)