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anobscurename · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XIX — masterlist

concept: you finally have had enough. the slowest of slow burns. part twenty of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 2,4k

warnings: you might cry; i know i did. angst.

author's note: i needed my comedic relief comfort characters for this one in the beginning tbh cause... well... you'll see. this one is for @miss-jackson500 because i haven't dedicated one to her yet and she's? amazing?!

You had wondered – for the days that followed – that if maybe the rescheduled meet-up hadn't been cut short by Anthony, if things would be different.

You came to the conclusion that all that really would've been different was that you'd know a little less.

"You're finally going to do it, huh?" Anthony grinned from across the pool table. You had, according to the original plan, all come together at the old bar where you'd first met the two. "You're going to tell him how you feel?"

"Is it a bad idea?" You asked, missing your shot. Your mind was heavily distracted, and it was showing through. You were usually wiping the floor with the duo, but now you were losing four balls to one.

"No, no, it's a fantastic idea," Anthony bent down to line up his next shot. "Tell her it's a fantastic idea, Seb. Better yet, tell me who the Black Widow should be with."

Sebastian, who had been sat to the side, waiting for his turn, rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer. "I admit nothing until I see a ring."

"Speaking of rings!" Anthony jumped up excitedly – either from the prospect of marriage or the thrill of pocketing his ball, leaving team Falcon and Winter Soldier with just the black on the table – "I'm thinking a round cut two carat, set in rose gold? Colour scheme would he lavender, of course, because as best man–"

"You can get fucked if you think you're going to be best man."

"Of course I'm best man! Look at me, I'm the bestest man around, I'm fine as–"

"You can both get fucked if you think there's going to be a wedding," you laughed.

Anthony hissed a curse under his breath as he missed the winning pocket, reluctantly handing the cue off to Sebastian, who hopped off the stool to land gracefully on his feet.

You chalked your cue, determined to not lose yet another game to these dipshits. "I haven't even told him yet, what if he doesn't feel the same way?"

Anthony and Sebastian both looked at you, incredulous. "I mean this with only love, and it comes from a place deep within my heart... Are you blind?"

Sebastian was even balking. "Even I could tell, and I have the social skills of a pineapple."

"Okay, fine! You both are clearly biased, you saw us kiss."

"No, we watched a softcore porno is what we did, y'all devouring each other like that in public–"

He cut himself short, having to laughingly dodge himself out of the reach of your playful slap.

"I'm asking Scott for the final opinion," you proclaimed.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, eager to play and win the game, bouncing the end of the cue on the wooden bar floor. The rubber stop muted the noise.

You opened up the text thread you had been maintaining with the younger Evans. Should I tell Chris?

You didn't need to elaborate, Scott would know what you meant. There was a pause on his end, and you had just been about to put your phone away before his response bubbled up.

Sorry, was just changing your name in my phone to sister-in-law ;)

That was all the answer you needed.

You finished the game – you lost, mind overrun with giddiness and the odds having been stacked against you long before – and you were hugging Anthony goodbye.

When you'd asked where he was headed, he'd just given you a sly wink and a "wouldn't you like to know."

That left just you and Sebastian, and you decided to walk him back to his hotel before heading home.

"How long you going to be in L.A. for?" You'd asked, just to make conversation.

"A week or so, maybe? And then I'm jetting back to New York. I haven't been home in so long, I think the dust has taken over my lease."

You chuckled, and continued on in a pleasant silence.

You gave him a departing hug in the lobby, and hailed a cab back to Chris'.

You were so high on the exhilaration of finally telling him and ending this will they/won't they charade once and for all. So excited, you'd nearly missed the unfamiliar Bentley in the driveway on your way in.

But it didn't go unnoticed.

You came in, greeted happily by a yapping Dodger, and the smell that hit you was one of Valentino perfume – overpowering the usual scent of Chris lingering in the house.

"Hey, Dodge," you whispered, giving him a vigorous petting session. "Where's Chris? Where's your dad?"

Dodger gave your hand a wet lick, slobbering over your keys, and you laughed lightly.

The door to the pool was open, and you could hear splashing and giggling – pitched more feminine than you'd ever heard Chris go.

Curiosity killed the cat. And satisfaction was never going to resurrect the plummet of your excitement. No, that was replaced by shock and anger. Even if you knew you had no right to feel that way.

"Chris?" You'd called out as you padded across the lounge. "Chris, whose car is in the driveway? I have something I–"

Blindsided, your slobber slick keys fell from your hand to jangle uselessly onto the ground. It was that that finally grabbed his attention.

He had been otherwise excruciatingly preoccupied with the topless girl in his lap, legs locked around his waist in a languid grind, his hands smoothing over her curves as they all but explored each other's tonsils in a moaning kiss.

Red flashed across your vision as well as your cheeks, and you ducked your head. Embarrassed and feeling stupid, you quickly grabbed your keys. "I'm sorry, I'll go..."

You quickly turned and dashed to your room, ignoring the tears in your eyes, and the call of your name.

"{Your name}, wait!" Chris cried, water sloshing as he clambered out of the pool. "{Your name}!"

You slammed the door shut behind you, making it clear you wanted isolation. Pulling out a duffel bag, you began throwing clothes into it, careless of what you might need, just needing to leave.

Sebastian had asked you once how much more you were going to put yourself through before you'd had enough.

And this was it. This was the breaking point. This was enough.

The strength in which Chris frantically ripped open your door had it banging against the adjacent wall, but you couldn't even look at him. Your eyes were blurry as you continued violently packing your clothes.

You didn't even know where you were going to go. You just knew you had to. Go.

"{Your name}, stop," he said, soft in direct comparison to the panic he felt in his chest. You were leaving him. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" You spat out. And then, just to change the subject, because not even you could bare to dwell on it too much: "You're getting water on your floor."

"{Your name}–"

"Don't talk to me, Chris. Rest your tongue a bit, it sure was busy earlier."

"As was yours, too, I'm sure," he bit back.

Your movements stuttered at the reciprocated rage. To your knowledge, he had no right to feel as you did in that moment. None.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

There was provocation in his eyes, and his searing gaze only fuelled your fire.

"Have fun with Sebastian?"

Your scoff was followed by a bewildered laugh. "I went out tonight with Sebastian and Anthony, Chris. We're friends. Welcome to the world of platonic relationships, professor, we've been waiting for your arrival."

And like the cut strings on a puppet, tension left his body – anger being replaced by confusion.

"I... I thought..."

"You thought wrong, Evans," you seethed, pushing past him to the bathroom to grab your toiletries. You made an effort to bump him, your shirt sticking to your skin with the water droplets still dotting his toned body. "And to think I really thought..."

"Thought what?" His voice cracked out.

"Thought that you might actually care about me!" You finally snapped. You were yelling. You didn't want to yell, but you were, voice echoing in the acoustics of the bathroom.

"I do," he whispered. His conviction was quickly draining from him, being replaced with an inevitable sadness and feeling of loss. You hadn't even left yet, but he knew that nothing he was going to say would make you stay. He knew he'd gone too far. It didn't stop him from trying. "I loved you, {your name}. I still do."

You had hoped that if he ever was to say those words, it would be under different circumstances. In fact, you'd found yourself imagining whole sunset beach scenarios, late into the night.

"I thought you were better than that, Chris. Manipulation? That's low."

"It's true. I've loved you–"

You didn't want to hear it. You weren't going to give him the opportunity of persuading you into staying. You knew you should've left long ago. "I can't say the feeling is mutual."

It was a lie. It was a lie, because if you really had felt nothing, then you wouldn't be acting like this. But you needed the upper hand, because Chris had basically knocked you over with the force of his admittance. You couldn't let yourself be dragged back in. Not this time. You had too much self respect for that. Not when he still had lipstick smudged on his lips, disappearing into the scruff that shadowed his jaw.

You had to avoid looking at his pained expression at your words. No matter how much you were hurting now at his profession of love, you knew he might possibly be hurting a little more at your rejection.

"And if you really did..." You trailed off, struggling to say the words love me. "Well, you have a really funny way of showing it."

"Pretending not to love you is the hardest role I've taken on, and I did it for you."

Red was dancing back into your vision, your shock growing alongside the fury.

"How is that for me?"

"Because that's what you wanted!" He was finding his voice again, raising it in his desperation. "Believe me, I wanted to fight for you. I would, would wage wars for you," he stuttered out. "But you never wanted that from me. You wanted to pull away, from this, from us. And I let you because I would do anything you asked of me."

"So you stayed away because you wanted to keep me?" You worded it slowly, just to make him understand how ridiculous it sounded.

"...Yes."

"Are you stupid? Actually mentally deficient?" You zipped your bag, brushing past him again, this time making sure to have as little contact as possible. He all but occupied the whole doorway.

"If I had told you then you would have left!" He was following you now, following you to the front door. "I told you I wanted you in my life, even if it meant the pain of never having you."

You had hoped to slam the door in his face to make your point known, but where Chris had slacked in fighting for you before, he was making up for now. He caught the door before it could close, trailing after you into the driveway.

"There's something wrong with me. I ruin things. So I let you have your space because you are the greatest thing that has happened to me in a long time, and I'd be fucked if I ruined you too!"

"It's a bit too late for that," you said, finally looking him in those ocean eyes. They were bloodshot with barely restrained tears. But your resolve was iron. "Congratulations, Evans. You've ruined me."

You heard Dodger pawing at the door, whining low and long for you. If you thought leaving Chris was hard, this was what made you break.

But you turned away from them, from that house, tears falling freely. A sob escaped your lips, barely stifled.

"Put on a shirt, Evans," you managed to get out. You wanted the last word, even if it brought very little satisfaction. "You have company."

———————

Your first call was to Anthony. He hadn't picked up, and you remembered his other plans.

The second also went unanswered – the friend who had become a self proclaimed L.A. local upon graduating high school, and who had let you crash at their house when you'd first arrived. She was probably at work, and so you left her a quick voicemail asking her to call you back.

The third did, on only the second ring. You had almost lost hope in anyone else being awake at that point, so you hadn't composed yourself before he picked up.

The first thing he heard was your sob, which you quickly cut off with a greeting.

"What's wrong?"

"Can I crash with you tonight? I need somewhere to go."

"What happened? Did–?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you said quickly. He shut up almost immediately. "I just... Please?"

There was a pensive silence on the other end, and you felt the need to fill it.

"I tried Anthony, but he wasn't picking up."

"Yeah," came the small chuckle crackling on the other end. "He's got a hot date tonight. Must be going well."

"I wouldn't do this if I had anywhere else to go, but I don't, and it'll only be for one night–"

"Of course you can stay," he assured, sushing you softly. "Can't believe I made you ask twice."

————————

Sebastian met you in the lobby, taking you up to his room almost immediately to avoid strange looks and any unwanted public attention.

He explained to you in the elevator that although he had tried to get you your own room, the hotel was fully booked. He sounded quite apologetic for that.

You didn't say much, because if you spoke, you were scared you were going to start crying all over again. And you'd just managed to stop, averting your eyes from your teadstained appearance in the mirrors.

Sebastian's room was a big one, on the pricier end of all the hotel had to offer. A large king sized bed stood to one side, bedsheets twisted as if he'd clambered into it right when he'd gotten back.

There was a lounge suite to the side, looking like a set-up you'd see on the glossy pages of Architectural Digest, and although the curtains were drawn, you could see the city lights sprawling out before you through the crack.

He was still in his outfit from the bar, shirt and jeans slightly rumpled.

The television was on, playing the original Nosferatu quietly in the background.

"I'll take the couch," Sebastian offered, dropping off the bags he'd taken from you.

You declined him with a shake of your head.

"{Your name}," he said, tender, placing both his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him. "You've been through a lot tonight. Take the bed, I've got the couch."

You didn't have the strength to fight his insistence. You didn't have the strength for much any more.

When you'd gotten out the shower, dressed in your pyjamas, Sebastian finally asked you again what had happened.

You just shrugged tiredly, climbing between the cool cotton sheets.

"I just had enough."

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans/you #dina writes #chris evans angst #ocean eyes

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facepalming-since-chernobyl · 3 years

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I agree with you. I wish we could have stopped them but the things have escalated and we can't do anything about it. Even Scs fans are afraid to call them out and you are right, they do come in numbers and attack whoever says anything against them. They refuse to see how problematic their tweets are!! And even if someone point it out to them all they do is bully those people..

I joined this Fandom 2 yrs back and that time I have never seen anything related to Meltie. Sure Fandom talks about their on screen chemistry but that's it. But lately I was really shocked to see so many people shipping them together ignoring the fact that Melissa is married. And they constantly post out of context SDCC 2019 videos and I don't know about others it makes me really so uncomfortable. I was so shocked when I came across a tweet about Hux*** and I think you shared that in your Tumblr. I asked one of my mutual who is actually friends with those ppl who ships meltie, told them its creepy and they just asked me to ignore it 🤐

I don't know how someone can ignore those kind of tweets. I don't have many followers, just a small account so I know my efforts are futile and few others Scs ignored me when I sent them messages. So I gave up. I just muted all those accounts. Trust me it's not one or two accounts, it's 200 accounts. When I saw your Tumblr post I hoped that now they will stop shipping Me**** but nope, the amount of tweets only Increaaed so I just keep on muting those accounts. I really don't want to be bullied. It's really painful to be called weirdo, homophobe (when I am a lesbian) and other names.

I agree they are hypocrites. I have seen so many Scs often call out your fandoms behavior towards Melissa & Chris marriage, their child. But that's what Me**** is doing right now. They are being invasive and are disrespecting Melissa's private life, using her child.

Only SC fans with big followers can stop their weird behavior but they are keeping their mouth shut. Frankly I understood recently that they really don't care about Melissa and refuse to accept her as the person she is, and are converting her into a person to fit their narrative. And what scares me is that they are dragging other teenagers into their mess who think its cool to ship them for real.

I am glad Supergirl is ending soon. And no way I encourage any sort of bullying against the actor/actress. I do agree that Chris receives a lot of unnecessary hate. It's fine if they don't like him but there is no need to mock, bodyshame him repeatedly!! If you don't like him. Fine, forget about him. Stop talking about him. Stop protecting your hate on him because Melissa isn't with Katie.

I think they know how problematic they are and they are proud of it. They use it as a sword, because who is going to call them out, when everybody knows it’s an invitation to being called the worst names you can imagine?

I don’t remember when melties started to rise, I think quite early, for sure I have seen shit around SDC17, but for some time they kept they shit under the radar.

The problem is that a lot of the bullies are big accounts OR their side accounts are big (for example, making gifs, posting pics etc.) and even when people scream they don’t follow RedKrypto and she is bad blah blah, they follow redgifs and they don’t see a problem. Also… sometimes I have an impression that a lot of people don’t call out the bullies because well, they silently approve what they have doing aka scaring other shippers out of social media and making them silent – it’s not an observation about only SC fandom but many more. It’s the “let’s keep silent and see how the nasty guys take care of the other fandoms ;3”.

Nah, they are not going to stop and my posts are not going to make them (I post this shit in one place only to have an easy and quick access to receipts when I need evidences while arguing with them).

Sorry to hear you were called like that, I can tell you I feel you. My asexual ass is constantly called straight by them, along with the normal homophobe, women hater, racist etc. Just think about it like that – the way they call you like that, while they don’t know a shit about you, says a lot about them, not about you. Also, remember your mental health is more important than the idiots, so if it helps, block them and sail away.

The fact is there are weird people in our fandom too and some folks should take a literal CHILL pill. It’s ok to root for a couple, even real life couple, but the moment you start demanding things and be creepy is the time to take a step back.

I mean, big sc accounts would help for sure. At least maybe some of their followers would at least think about the issue. Also, the fact is the only person who could make things much better, not only in this case but also about the cast hate and some actors receiving death threats, stays silent too.

Yeah, we talked about it a lot here and the conclusion is the idiots treat Melissa like a Barbie doll and projects their fantasies on her. Basically, she is not a real person for them, but objectified piece of meat.

I mean, if they call themselves Mel’s fan then at least they should simply ignore him. They don’t need to like him, they don’t need to respect him, but he is Melissa’s choice. She chose this man to spent her life with and have a baby. What they do with their hate is basically saying she is incapable of making healthy decisions and creating healthy relationship. What is absolutely disgusting.

Anyway, it’s an neverending topic to talk about.

#anti sc fandom #toxicorps #anons

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janeaustentextposts · 5 years

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Hello dear, can you please help me find some good reasons why Elinor would be happy with Edward? I relate a LOT to Elinor, I'm quite like her personally, and I want my girl to get her happily ever after. But there's so little of Edward in S&S plus his whole flirting with Elinor while being engaged to Lucy just puts me off. Please help out a fellow Austenite here and put me out of my misery. Thank you so much!

Because they’re well-suited to each other! In Austen we actually get very little of any of the men, particularly the love-interests, as she was writing from a female sphere of experience, and courtship was a much more muted thing, generally, in her time. You basically couldn’t show open interest in someone outside of very clear formal instances (dancing but no more than twice at a single assembly and even that was a major hint that you were engaged, etc.,) until you (that is, the gentleman,) had declared your honourable intentions and made an offer of marriage. They’re mysterious creatures, men.

As to him flirting with Elinor, I’d have to ask...where? They get along extremely well (peas in a pod!) but the entire point is that, later, Elinor herself cannot claim any justification for her having developed a deeper affection for Edward, as their relationship is entirely appropriate and nothing which pushed the boundaries of proper behaviour for unattached people. And Edward himself imagines they’re just being friendly and that Elinor can’t possibly have feelings for him, again from the above-board tone of their interactions. It’s mutual pining with a hefty dose of They’ve Never Thought of Me Like That keeping everything on lockdown. Edward knows perfectly well that he is bound to Lucy, and if he had suspected for even a moment that Elinor was feeling anything remotely romantic towards him, his honour would have forced him to put an immediate distance between them, for both their sakes. The way he reacts to his engagement being made public and standing by Lucy despite not loving her and despite his disinheritance leads me to believe that if he would do so much for a woman he can no longer stand, he would go to the ends of the earth for the woman he truly loved and respected--Elinor.

Marianne and Mrs. Dashwood (romantics) see or imagine they see what Edward and Elinor do not, which is where perhaps some might get the idea that Edward and Elinor are aware of what is brewing between them; but whatever their feelings might be eventually, I really don’t think either of them supposes it’s a profound mutual attachment or even a flirtation. Marianne and Mrs. Dashwood would like to think it is--they’re so well-suited, after all, and how could an ostensibly unattached man and woman feel anything less than passion for one another? (Like I doubt Marianne would believe for a second at the beginning of Sense and Sensibility that a man and a woman could be Just Friends when they get along so well as Edward and Elinor do.) The romantic Dashwoods are right, in the end, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t jump the gun when they start asking Elinor when the wedding’s going to be. Edward and Elinor are in their own world of hidden feelings, and their restraint (for whatever reasons they have it) hurts them as they are finally forced to admit their feelings even just to themselves, when it’s all too late and the damage is done.

#Ask Me Anything Austen-Adjacent #AMAAA #Jane Austen #gif #Sense and Sensibility #Elinor Dashwood #Edward Ferrars #Anonymous

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pretzcl · 5 years

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— the last dance

summary | He was the Sun, you were the Moon and all your little stars were slowly aligning. But the Sun and the Moon aren’t destined to be together, no they’re set apart worlds away. When texts become one word, calls left to voicemail and promises made to remain the centre of each other’s universe start to fickle. You suppose if you don’t have your best friend to talk to, you can spend the night in solitude talking to the moon.

{mutual pining au, opposites attract au}

pairing: best friend!donghyuck x fem!reader word count: 11k genre: angst warnings: the story often switches between yn’s perspective and a third person perspective so just be wary of that along with, the flashbacks. also, could i have gotten more cliché with the title?

You sit up in your bed and sigh. Wind breezes from the open window, gliding in swirls around your hair and nose, cooling the sleek metal of the mobile you hold in your hands. The blaring of an electronic xylophone jarred you out of the peaceful unconsciousness and hauled you into a room cloaked by the thick velvet curtain of night.

“Hey, this is Lee Donghyuck. I can’t answer the phone right now. But I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” The audio message fades into the chilly silence.

Brows crinkled, you bury your grumbles in your hands. The skin of your forehead bundles in lines as you squeezed your eyelids shut. Not because you’re wincing at the illumination from your phone in the stark darkness like you wish you were. No, you’re wincing back the tears brimming at the clumps of your wet lashes.

Blots gushing at your lashes blur the brightly lit-up phone screen with the shadows. The mobile slips from your fingers and drops onto the quilted blanket with a soft thud. The satin of your pyjama sleeve is smooth underneath your eyes as you dab the dampness away. While you run a hand through your unruly locks, wheedling yourself into false composure.

But the deep blue billows rolling around in your heaving chest, crash against you causing you to collapse over. Hurt crawls itself from the pit of your stomach and scavenges up your throat in an uproar of silent screams. The rumples of the white sheets crease under your hands behind you in search of a pillow to clutch against your chest and stifle your cries.

The front you lugged throughout the weeks of saying you’re ‘fine’, adding to the tedious misuse of the phrase, leaks in streams down your cheeks. Each bead bears a drop of the rippling weight from your stomach. The frontage caves down into crumbles like that of the white sheets lolling over your body, that had tucked you into the abyss of dreams. You wish you had prolonged your visit in its blissful peace.

One last tear escapes. It trickles along one of the moist trails tracing down the red blotches tinted on your cheeks. The desolate teardrop breaks off the tip of your chin with a soft plop. Though, your stare is vacantly placed at your open window.

Doesn’t he miss the little adventures you had together? Raiding the candy aisle with trolleys basketing the sugariest cereals and ice creams for your movie nights. Swinging side by side, under the golden maple leaves hanging by a thread onto a hunkering tree, dizzying in the elation of euphoria. Heart’s content with soaking up each other’s presence in the comfortable silence until one of you burst into a dancing fit.

Aren’t classes excruciatingly slow with loneliness sitting beside him in a room full of poorly acquainted peers and a wretched old man in suspenders making stiff gestures to a chalkboard?

Isn’t it oppressive plodding through hectic corridors, alone, to a locker abandoned of a someone bouncing at your arrival?

You swallow hard. Doesn’t he… miss you?

A grey banner pops at the top of your phone screen. A gleam glosses over your eyes as you click into the notification and open iMessage. Maybe the midnight's air has been hazing over your mind, clogging your better judgement.

[2:39 PM]:

fullsun: busy rn

The glassy gleam shatters at the realisation. He doesn’t.

A humourless chuckle passes your lips as it dawns on you. That’s one more word you normally receive in a text from him. But it gets caught in your throat after you send, “oh sorry ttyl then :)”, and you bawl into your hands for the second time tonight.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Tired commuters stand patiently, glued to their phones, wedged against each other at the station. The local bus arrives, and the crowd huddled together in a surge through the slid open doors.

Haechan spots an empty seat in the far corner. Holding the strap of his gym bag slung over his shoulder he hustles towards the single seat. In his peripheral, a stalky figure guns for the same seat as him, but he slings his bag down on the top it and lunges into the stiff cushion.

He peers back to see his opponent and is met with the glower of a middle age businessman. The sheen of sweat glinting underneath scraggles of oily hair and patches of stubble on his sallow face convinces Haechan, the businessman isn’t going home to much.

The man took out a handkerchief from his unironed suit pocket and wipes a thick layer of sweat coating his neck. The white cloth immediately becomes limpid. Haechan edges away in his seat. He can imagine him perfectly, hunching over a keyboard surrounded by empty cups of noodles and beer cans, all alone in his cramped apartment.

The businessman mutters something about kids having it easy with no respect these days.

“Thank God. I got this seat,” Haechan yawns loudly enough for the businessman to overhear. “I got up at five and practised at six, then went to school and practised during lunch break, and then practised again after school from three to five this afternoon,” Haechan presses to himself. Haechan shoots a look at the businessman. “And I’m the one who has it easy,” he murmurs.

The bitter glower on the stony businessman’s face cements.

A buzz silently vibrates up Haechan’s thigh. He promptly slips his fingers into the pocket of his grey slacks and pulls out his cell phone. The screen displays a caller id saved as “coffeehead” sequenced by a blue heart emojis.

Haechan shuts his eyes closed as he breathes out, “Don’t answer it, Haechan. Don’t. answer.”

He averts his gaze to the window, looking beyond the claustrophobic confines of public transport. The frame of unrelenting blackness shadowing over the never-ending line of tall industrial buildings fails to capture his attention. Drifting back down to the quiet rattling held in his hands. He nibbles the flesh of his bottom lip with his brows knitted together at his thumb hovering over the green icon.

Haechan pronounces a sigh. Waiting for the muted buzzing from his lap to finally cease in his anticipating fingers, he tenses. An imperceptible pressure lurks over his shoulder. He snaps his head and is faced with a hovering form.

The towering business glares down at the seated boy with a scowl plastered over his greasy face.

“Enjoying the ride, Sir?” asks Haechan mockingly through a Cheshire Cat grin. “Seated,” he sniggers under his breath. The upper lip of the businessman curls into a scowl as dirty as the chewed gum stuck underneath the bus seats. Though, the lour on the face of the vexed businessman is unheeded by the boy leant against the train window.

A message appears across the locked screensaver of a full moon above a white gazebo.

‘Missed call from Y/N’

Ignoring the heaviness lodged in his chest he swipes the notification away before idly drawing a frowny sun in the condensation of the window.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The moon sails through the ribbons of black clouds swirling through the sprinkles of glitter. Its fluorescence cascades through the windows of your home and bleeds silver into the leaden bedroom. The side of your face trailed in damp streams glistens under the lustre beams. Wiping the wells of dewy crystal, you slide off your bed.

Cautious of your roommates sleeping down the hallway, you tentatively inch towards the window on tiptoes. You sweep what feels like a sweatshirt underneath your toes to the side and resume to treading along the wooden panels with your hands stretched out in front of you.

Palms land flat on the windowsill, brisk underneath your fingers, lifting you up so your back is against the wall and your feet plant on the wall parallel.

The frosty window supports your head tilted upwards. Your gaze transfixed to the great luminous pearl rose in the inky sea. Bathing under the moonlight shower. Completely, entranced by its ethereal glory that you’ve forgotten your cries in the crumples of your bedsheets.

With an index finger, you idly circle the outline of the moon in the condensation, albeit releasing a low sigh.

—flashback

“I was thinking on Saturday you could sleepover and that way I get to take your measurements and see what looks best on you. And then we also get to celebrate your 3rd streak of scoring the lead role in the school play with a movie night… And you’re not listening to me,” you finished flatly. Your head rolled towards the boy beside you. His fray of muted hazels bounced with each clunk over a speed hump.

Lee Donghyuck, or what you like to call him, Haechan. A little nickname you coined together back in the fifth grade during one recess where Donghyuck was teaching you some basic Korean vocabulary for fun. Hae literally means ‘Sun’ while Chan means ‘to be filled with’ and in your little solar system he shone the brightest, so it felt fitting as an eleven-year-old. And it kinda just stuck as he grew more and more into the nickname. People in one way or another that met him felt gravitated to him. He had people orbiting around him; few so close it burned them, most set so far away in the cold, longing for the warmth of being closer. The lucky ones were in the perfect distance to bathe in his radiance. And you? Well, you were a strange, little moon with no planet to orbit around, spinning around on your own, in the opposite direction as everyone else. But somehow, even though you were neither big enough nor close enough to form part of his System, he found you important enough.

“I am listening to you and it sounds fun. I’m just-,” Haechan began before leaning closer to the window. His parted lips hovered over the glass with his hands covering the sides of his mouth. He puffed a few breaths.

The exhale reveals itself onto the window in a pressed cloud.

Detaching his nose pressed to the glass, Haechan nodded, pleased with himself.

“Ok continue,” he said, drawing a smiley-faced sun in the condensation.

“You’re going to be 80, riding in the pensioner seat and still be doing that,” you noted through a small smirk.

The circle of the sun began to vanish against the glass, but you followed the mellow rays flaring from the band. The faint beams led you on a trail from the pretty slope of his nose, along the sharp line of his jaw, and up to the gem under his eye. It’s a little mole. You like to believe it’s a speck from the Sun that had fallen and landed on his left cheek. So, wherever he walks he sets the pathway ablaze with dazzling oranges, brightening up the entire room because he holds a piece of the sun.

“And you’re going to be dead before 80,” quipped Haechan. Never mind, you would much rather believe it’s sun cancer.

“Probably,” you hummed. Your stare grazed the bus seat in front you, knocking the heel of your shoe leather heel back into the foot of your own seat. A clank with each knock at the sturdy metal. You waited for a few seconds to pass by. Once the imaginary timer rang you turned to face Haechan, a flash of mischief flickered in your hues. “But I’m not dead yet so I can still do this.” You lurched your torso over him. An outstretched arm lunged across his white buttoned up shirt. The slickness of the brisk glass is swiped by your hand and you wiped the smiley sun off.

“Hey!” yelped Haechan, loudly enough that a handful passengers turned around. But since you were a pair of high school students, the adults huff in annoyance, then returned to their devices.

Jaw hung wide open. He gaped at the cleared window. Not unusual for a drama kid to react so theatrically. “How dare you,” he rasped.

You rubbed your wet palm against the rigid cotton of your plaid skirt.

“Anyways… on for Saturday?”

“Oh.” The side of his face slightly hollowed as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I can’t…” said Haechan glumly. “I’m busy on Saturday. What about Sunday?”

“I can’t. I have to work the register at the fabric shop,” you mimicked the glum tone of his voice.

“Oh,” he repeated. A hand rustled the nutty blonde at the side of his head. His lips pulled at one side in a lopsided grimace as his eyebrows furrowed together. “Um what about…” he faltered, nibbling on his bottom lip.

“What’s Mr Hyuck up to on Saturday?” you asked.

His sun-kissed face pinched.

“I have to go my auntie’s anniversary party,” he grumbled in the rest of his palm hoisted on the narrow bus window sill.

Your head cocked slightly to the side, “and that sucks because?” Your brow furrowed over your narrowed eyes, fixed on the boy whose gaze wandered off. Something was tugging down on a thread sewn to the corner of his lips. Immediately, you wanted your sewing scissors to snip the thread, unstitching the sullen frown knitted on his face.

He sighed. “It sucks because I was going to ask out Soo-Ah but I found this morning she just started dating Felix”. Absentmindedly, his fingers traced along letters scratched into the window pane. ‘IT’S RAINING HERE TOO’. The words murmured through your mind as you struggled to ignore the knots tied in your stomach at the mention of her name.

Yun Soo-ah. Her name falls prettily off the tongue like rich silk cascading from the waist of a luxurious ball gown. Her raven ribbons pour over her porcelain shoulders, floating an elegant fragrance of jasmine as she minced the school hallways. Thin lashes sweep over her sparkling almond eyes, twinkling specks of glitter from the contact lenses she bought from Etude house. If pearls had a voice, it would sound like her tinkling laughter she covers with a dainty hand. She seats with her legs neatly crossed to the side at the bench, by the marble water fountain near the Geography classrooms.

The bench where all the popular kids sit; Jeno, Ha-Yoon, Jaemin, Ae-cha and… Haechan. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. He’s sunshine but he’s not just your sunshine. Sunshine isn’t an abstract painting of a peculiar composition of angry geometry and contrasting colours, only to be appreciated by acquired tastes. No. Everyone appreciates the beauty of the abundance of bright rays that paints the monotone world into a metropolis of glorious hues.

Although a spot reserved on the bench for someone had people squinting from their seats to make sure their vision isn’t tricking them.

Yours.

Not that you earned it. How does anyone earn the privilege of sitting at a bench more overrated than the tv series Riverdale? I guess being attractive can get you to three seasons and apparently, a bench by a cherub fountain obscured by veils of moss.

Truthfully, the only reason you had a seat saved with your name is that you have a free get-to-hang-out-with-the-popular-kids-because-Haechan-is-one-and-he’s-too-attached-to-his-first-best-friend-that-has-been-in-his-class-ever-since-Kindergarten-to-let-her-sit-in-the-library-all-by-herself-when-there’s-a-seat-right-here-!! pass.

Jeno, Jaemin, Soo-ah and the rest of the Scooby Doo gang are all nice. Nice in the simplest form of enjoyment. All their conversations sounded the exact same. If you closed your eyes each of their voices would merge into whirs of white noise. You had efficiently narrowed the subjects of their babbling into three categories: how much school sucks, parties and sports. 2 of which you have no interest in, which left school uncrossed but whining about that surprise pop quiz, was only a topic of choice for lunchtime banter that lasted so long before someone brought up sports or parties again.

Though, you all shared something in common apart from breathing. Haechan. They gave up their vacant seat at their pretentious bench to accommodate for your 50 shades grunge. Even if, your matte black Doc Martens clashed with their matching Adidas Superstars. Never addressing the elephant in the room in spite of her electric dyed hair and leather studded jacket. All to make sure the Sun continues to shine brightly.

Unfortunately, you never seemed to share anything else in common with them. You were a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit no matter how hard you all tried wedging you in and that was ok. People don’t always click, to be honest, you really liked Haechan’s friends especially Soo-ah, but it was evident there wasn’t much to go beyond friendly waving at one another in the school corridors. Not long after you began to evade the pause of awkward silence that ensued over the bench at your arrival. As much as Haechan liked to dispute, he shone brightly without you, happy with them and you were happy for him.

He would never admit it, but he was looking out for that little girl. The little girl who sobbed on the bus ride from the first day of school because it was a long way from home by herself. But that little girl grew up into someone who likes the solace of being alone. She likes being lost in the cluster of dreams and unexplored ideas swirling in her mind. She likes the purring of a sewing machine nuzzling beneath her hands rather than the droning of a person. She likes watching from the sidelines over being caught in the whirlwind of being in the present.

In the corner of the library, you found a place to fit your puzzle piece. Enshrouded by the tall shelves encasing Science Fiction books from the reaches of sunlight. Sketching fashion illustrations into your leather covered Visual Arts book. Far, far away from any interminable discussions.

After all, you were the only one who got to bask in the sunset. Your favourite part of the day. His radiance melts into dawn; cheerful smile softens to a small tug of the lips, doe eyes taper lowly with the fade of the blue sky, ripples of laughter soothe to content hums and sighs.

The orbit slows down, and gravity pulls you two together.

“Well, I’m sorry you have to go alone,” you consoled. He sighed once more. “At least, you don’t have to endure the emotional torment of a fifty-year-old woman because the store doesn’t stock the fabrics she likes,” you poked lightly.

One of the thread sears in frayed halves, loosening a corner of his rosy lips into a quirk.

“Honestly, I haven’t felt anything ever since she berated me for not giving her a 10% discount she didn’t earn,” you ranted monotonously. “And then proceeded to demand to see the manager”.

The threads spilled from his lips onto coils on the ground as his lips stretch into a grin. “That does suck.”

“Not as much as going stag,” you lowly singsong.

Sirens set off, flashes of vigilant red burn brightly in your mind shouting, “Too soon” on repeat. How insensitive are you? The stoplight reds shrieked at you. He floated around Soo-ah plastered with the universal goofy face teenage boys make when they like someone. Don’t make him sulky because she doesn’t realise, she holds the most irreplaceable orb in her dainty hands.

You were about to blubber apologies when he joked, “See. This is a prime example of why you don’t have any friends.” A breath hitched in your throat released.

“What do you mean? I have Renjun,” you state, a little too proudly.

“The kid who believes in ghosts?” A questioning look drew on his face in cynicism.

“And aliens,” you added promptly. Ignoring the eyebrow, he mockingly raised you continued, “He has some compelling theories. Not that you would understand.”

“And what, the Earth’s flat?” he sassed, waving jazz hands up in the air.

“This is the type of thinking that’s going to get you killed in an apocalypse,” you chastised, nose upturned to his supercilious gaze.

The shrug of his shoulder must have tripped his round doe eyes because the chocolate chips vanished into the milky white like a reflex. He’s so delicious, you thought as you watch the sunlight glazed over his face in drips of golden honey straight from the comb. That day you wrote down his gorgeous eye roll in a blank space of the list of things you loved about the Sun.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The clouds once wisps of paper white have matted in thick, scratchy grey wool. A spurt of wind squeezes from the bus doors sliding close and is fleeting against Haechan’s back. Silently cursing the thin fabric of his pressed white shirt as cold slithers down his exposed neck, he treads the pathway.

The soil shielded by spouts of fresh grass emitted a pale musk, whisking a warning to quicken his pace, in the humid air. The scowl on Haechan’s face resembles one of the businessmen when the thought of the blue plaid fabric left in its stand by the front door taunts him. He digs an arm in his bag for the slumped material limp over his school books and heaves a sleeve through the opening. The jacket is thick and grey like the clouds hovering low in the sky awash in charcoal. Hastily, he pulls the hood over his flattened hair sprinkled in tiny dewdrops and zips the jacket to his chin. The jacket fails to instantly envelop his body in comforting warmth rather, attaching onto his torso pointlessly. The warmth clings to the lining to the jacket, reluctant to relieve the shivering of Haechan’s form, until he paces further along the sidewalk.

She wouldn’t have forgotten her umbrella. She wouldn’t have let him forget his.

His legs trace the familiar path towards a convenience store tucked in the corner of the intersection, but his mind fogs with wistful thoughts.

If only I told her, maybe it would have been different.

The white light of the mercury lamp glinted off the cell phone that he held in his hand.

It’s too late to tell her now.

Ruefully, he jostles open the glass door plastered in colourful advertisements for discounted food. A bell chimes at his entrance and heat from the vents of a rickety air conditioner immediately greets him with a hug of a doting mother. The unbothered store clerk’s head slumps in the palm of his pudgy hand, his cheek cushioning under his eye as he idly flicks through a magazine.

Haechan noses towards the narrow aisle of snack foods. A rainbow of shiny packaging blurs in his peripheral. Chocolates, crisps, Cup of Noodles, sodas, more crisps and finally, biscuits.

He holds up two slim rectangular boxes, in bold white letters “Pocky” printed in the centre, one red and the ladder pink. His hands shift, as to weigh both options in each hand, in a sedulous survey.

Eyebrows scrunched together creasing a slight line in his forehead. “Strawberry or chocolate?”

— flashback

Y/n’s impatience filled her with a suppressed urge to tap her foot as she waited for Haechan to decide which Pocky flavours he wanted.

“You always do this,” she huffed with her hands on her hips. The set of bangles embellished in faux diamonds reflected the fluorescent ceiling lights.

“It always a hard decision,” Haechan huffed back. “Do I feel like the original, Chocolate?” He lifts the small red box up in the air disregarding the way Y/N’s eyes glazed over with a look that states, ‘He’s got to be kidding me.’ “Or… Do I feel like, spicing it up a little bit, with Strawberry?” He then shifts his hands like a balance scale, holding the pink box up.

Y/N’s glossy red lips pressed together in a firm line, but the ends twitched and Haechan was pretty sure she was fighting off a smile. Haechan has seen her wear the same red lipstick a million times before, but for some reason noticing it that day made his mouth go dry.

“You’re unbelievable,” she chuckled and revealed her teeth that shone white against the bold lipstick. She slipped the Strawberry flavoured Pocky from Haechan’s grasp and back into the colourful assortment on the shelf. “You always end up getting disappointed with strawberry,” she said before walking off.

Unknowingly, a smile softened his face.

The click-clack of her leather boots on the grimy tiles jingled the chain latched to her skirt. She’s the last person you would want to be trapped in a horror movie with, Haechan thought. You might as well scream at an axe murderer if you were to be stuck with Y/N and her orchestra. Though, the thoughts vanished within the air that her arms swayed in, followed by the light swishes of her plaid skirt. Casually she sashayed away, weaving around the corner of a narrow aisle. It was spellbinding. So much so, that Haechan couldn’t shift a glance away like she was the Moon turning pirouettes beneath the Heavens, for no applause.

People were mistaken, the Moon didn’t droop low in the waning darkness, casting striking metallic over the land. The Moon hummed quietly, swept above from Earth, glowing the iridescence of a pearl. It drew the curtain of silver, shone against her buttermilk complexion behind her ear. Revealing the milky way copied in her eyes. The night fluttered over her eyes in ink dipped feathers, batting gently together with each blink.

Y/n glided her finger over the magazines propped in the rack, matching the glossiness of the covers with her nail polish. One piqued her interest, its cover was of a model in a dress like a pastry made out of pink ribbons and frills, lots of frills. A fashion magazine, she claimed she never had enough of them, and it was simply impossible to have too much inspiration. She flipped halfway through the magazine, almost expectant of what she was going to see, and her eyes instantly trained on the page.

Ethereal. At the time, Haechan didn’t know why the word she used, a thousand times about a heavenly themed fashion show in Rome, came to his mind. He didn’t know why his feet suddenly felt lighter with each step closer to her as if he was floating on air. What was he going to do when finally closed the space between both of her, he didn’t know. Tease her? Hug her? Hold her? Kiss-

Smack!

Guess he didn’t know there was a shelf in from of him either.

“Hyuck! Are you ok?” Blackness clouded his sight, but he heard her voice clearly. She was close.

Pain rushed to the veins pulsing hot blood to his forehead. His hand flew to the side of his head in a vain attempt to soothe the throbbing ache, wincing contact of his own skin.

The black clouds parted and revealed Y/N’s face constrained into a dozen lines. The tiny creases scrunched in her nose matched the crinkles at the corners of her eyes, furrowed by her chalky eyebrows. Her mouth twitched in different directions to keep her lips stuck together in a firm line.

“Geez. Some friend you are,” he deadpanned at his very unsympathetic best friend.

“How do you walk into a shelf? It was right in front of you!” she gibed.

“It was not right in front of me!” It most certainly was right in front of him.

She didn’t respond but held her sides as though she had a stomach ache. He studied her face. The subtle upward quirk of her red lips told him she was smothering her chortles. She then pointed feebly with a shaking finger at the shelf Haechan walked straight into, corrupting in a fit of mocking yet, hearty guffaws.

Haechan laughed too, despite nursing where a sickly purple welt would stain.

She exhaled a loud sigh to conclude the end of her outburst in the cramp convenience store. How she didn’t break a rib in the midst of her uncontrollable convulsions left Haechan in complete wonder. He had opened his mouth to jibe back as they normally would, being friends for so long, but he stood with a small gape gracing his cinnamon features. Y/n gently wiped her the corner of her eyes as the last giggle escaped from her mouth. Perhaps the tug on his bounded heart had strings to his tongue.

A spark lit the warm umber of his hues.

Y/n’s laugh sets Haechan’s body on fire but, softly, like that of a cozy bonfire. One where you crisp marshmallows into a golden auburn and then, plunge into your mouth before it drooped into a glump of pillowy sugar. She would laugh free-spiritedly, unafraid of the joy to riddle her face like dandelions scattered in a meadow field. Yet, explosive like the blissful moment when you hold someone’s hand counting down to a firework. Her weak knees would buckle at the sudden euphoria and she would hobble over the floor, giggling through her nose.

The spark ruefully dimmed at the sad realisation she doesn’t laugh like that anymore. Not even then, it was still contained. There were no adorable little snorts that intermission her hearty chortles. Y/n claimed her laugh was obnoxious, boisterous albeit Haechan thought she couldn’t be more wrong. Though, it wasn’t delicate laughter that ripples like tinkling bells in the cafeteria. But he didn’t want a public declaration of ladylikeness so obviously forced, making him doubt what he said was actually funny. What did he want?

Y/N returned to the magazine stand.

“So… Are you doing anything on Saturday?”

“Thought we had this conversation on the bus,” she replied flatly, too concentrated on finding the place she left off in the magazine.

“We did,” he swung back and forth on his toes. “But…” he drew out, perking Y/N’s attention from the pages of the fashion magazine opened in her manicured hands. “You never said if you were busy on Saturday.”

Y/n cocked her head at Haechan with quizzical look pinched on her face possibly, contemplating on how she should approach answering him. A second or so went by while Y/n eyed Haechan. He batted his lashes over his doe eyes, that were bigger and browner than before, a small smile curled at the end of his lips.

“I’m not,” she said in a questioning tone.

“Great!” he exclaimed. He swung a tanned arm around her shoulders, “So that means you can be my plus-one at the party.”

The wide grin sported on his stretched lips made Y/n’s hand twitch by her side. Her fingers curled, resisting the nerve itching to slap the shit-eating look right off his caramel face. Instead, fumed a steady exhale from her nose and she returned to her magazine.

She licked her finger and turned a page. The page dived and slid into the other pages as she stated, “So can Jaemin.”

“He’s busy,” he replied quickly like playing a game of Snap and shooting your hand to slam at the deck before processing the cards that have been placed.

“Jeno?” she raised an eyebrow over her magazine.

“Also, busy.” Haechan knew for certain the only thing Jeno would be busy with, was playing Overwatch but he slammed his hand on the deck anyways.

Y/n eyebrows scrunched upwards together and a ‘hmm’ withdrew from her lopsided pressed lips. “What about-”

“Everyone’s busy,” Haechan sharply cut her off. He was really terrible at this game of Snap.

“Well, I don’t want to come if I’m your last choice,” she disclosed as she flicked another page from the magazine.

Haechan’s whole face screwed up. “You were just listing off people, so you didn’t have to go!” he huffed in boiling frustration.

Y/n shrugged, her only interest tended to a model who cast a faraway gaze in a gown that folded over like aluminium foil.

Haechan’s frustration was as short-lived as a flash storm because his attention whisked away to a strand of Y/n’s platinum hair that flowed in a stream by the side of her face. His hand reaches towards the blonde ribbon poured by her cheek. The wispiness of the stray hair graced the tips of his fingers about to tuck the lock behind her ear.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked curtly, shooting the boy a cold stare and the wisps were merely fleeting against his fingertips.

“Your hair it’s-,” not sure how to finish the question, he leant closer to her. The ice rimed on her face melted, the sceptical squint of her eyes rounded into a mixture of shock at the feeling of wisps being swept along her cheek and behind her pierced ear.

The realisation of what Haechan had done, piled down on him like in those cartoons where a barrel of bricks clunk over a character in a heavy downpour. Before the bricks knock him unconscious and collapsed on the floor as a halo of stars circled above his head, he instinctively jabbed his index finger outwards. The fullness of Y/n’s cheek indented around his finger and triggered a twitch of her eye. Humoured by the irritation pooled in her eyes, he poked the soft flesh again, watching a scowl twist itself onto her mouth. She hissed, “You better stop that, or I will eat your firstborn.”

“See, that threat was scary before you used it on me 500 times,” he jested, relieved he played off whatever that was.

“Haechan I swear, you better stop-” her face scrunched up at the contact on his finger pressing into her cheek another time.

“Only if you agree to come with me,” he singsonged, a fleer curving his face.

She rolled her head back hurling a groan from the depths of her chest, stomping her foot.

“Come on, please. Don’t make me go by myself,” needled Haechan.

“What’s so wrong about going alone?” she asked but the exasperation trickling in her voice insinuated she wasn’t interested in an answer.

So, he replied to her question with another question, “What’s so bad about being with people?” The indignation of how he huffed back caught him off guard, and the way Y/N’s eyes widened for a split second, told him she was too.

They both emptied a sigh. Their eyes were on one another, not saying a word but thinking the same thing, “Have we always been so different?”

Y/n lashes fluttered over her eyes as her stare faltered to the floor. She lifted her head up to the ceiling, her attention shifted to the ceiling fan wheeling in bumpy coils. His eyes followed the tracings of where her gaze had been and stopped at the stuttering fan as well.

They stood less than a hand’s reach away but the ground under their feet felt as if a whole universe separated them.

Spaced out, a voice pulls Haechan back, “I don’t have a dress.”

“Huh?” Unable to have coined the words said to him to make any sense.

“I don’t have a dress,” Y/N repeated, still looking at the ceiling.

“You’re coming?” he asked dumbfounded turning to face her.

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“You don’t have to,” Haechan said feeling slightly deflated. The heaviness of his heart sunk in his stomach. Anchored at the thought of her only coming out of obligation.

“I want to,” she reassured him. The ceiling had finally released her gaze and she gently smiled at him albeit, it seemed unsure. “But you’re sharing those because I don’t want to pay for my own,” she chimed motioning to the Pocky box in his hand with a bright grin stretched on her lips.

— end of flashback

A touch of a smile wisps his lips. Chocolate, it is.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Most nights, darkness is absolute, scattered stars wrung in the sky like Christmas lights low on batteries, flickering their last breaths. The approaching of midnight preys on the awakening of the pale moon. It covers the moon with a velvet black blindfold before engulfing the orb. The moon on most nights wanes into nothing more than a dwindled strand of silver string.

But tonight, isn’t like most nights.

The moon rose from beneath the shadowy depths it had been buried under for far too many nights. Tonight, the moon doesn’t want to be hidden. And it won’t be hidden. Not behind the creeping grey clouds lurking thugly as if they owned the expanse of the sky. Not behind the black silhouettes of slender hands clawing high into the night to spill the moonlight into creaks of streams. No, tonight the Moon, the rightful ruler of the night banishes the measly grey wool of its kingdom and the trees are set free of their curse. Sat on a crisp white cushioned throne, the moon listens to you. A hum of acknowledges lowly breathes through sleeping leaves. The breeze arrives at your body propped on the window sill like wave uncurling onto the shore. So alleviated by the night’s serenity, your eyes are closed, and you inhale a deep breath of the brisk air. Your head rolls back as the coolness fills your lungs and seeps into your veins. The chill soothes down your body as taking a sip from a steamy tea would relieve others.

Midnight washes over your body.

The waves immersing your body freezes at the touch of your skin. Your eyes snap open wide at the unfamiliar chillness piecing into the air. Thorns stick up at the back of your neck. A boa constrictor coil tightens around your heart beating rapidly against your chest. It’s quiet but suddenly you’re conscious of your own breathing and your sense of hearing heightens.

The grass in your backyard has yet to be cut. It’s long and unruly, much like your hair at this very moment. However, your thoughts aren’t on your unkempt locks as you skittishly dart your glances over your garden, hissing with crickets and spotted with fluffy dandelions. Towering up above it all was a mighty elm. A voice is rationalising your terrified stricken mind, suggesting it could be the flapping of bird wings, or heavy gates shuffling in the wind. Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation but that doesn’t stop your body from twitching, desperately wanting to flee to your bed and hide under the sheets like a child. Your ears prick at an unsettling sound, it’s clearer this time. A bush crouching insignificantly by the elm tree shakes. Eyes glued to the dark silhouette of leaves rustling hazardously, you’re unable to detach your body, glued to the window sill. For a split second, the fear wracking your body pauses as you think the bush jitters like its leaves are being tickled and its wiggling under the sensation. The bush shakes off its final rustle and you could almost laugh the breath hitched in your throat. A ginger cat springs from the bush shadowed from the tree hunkering above it.

The neighbour’s cat, you sigh. The mangy little thing often, trotted alongside ever since you moved here, accompanying you on the last ten steps home every day from school. Tail held high, its feline pride bottled up inside the purr as he beckons for his reward for being such a lovely escort. Which he would shortly receive, after a much-deserved eyeball roll and leaning down you would press a kiss on his fluffy kitty head.

He trots tentative steps towards you. His soft teal eyes meet yours. Somehow, the night is captured in the blue of his eyes and it transcends you back to the tranquillity tranced by the moonlight. Suddenly, he breaks eye contact and scampers away into the shadows. But the moon’s lustres fill his departure with a feeling as soft the silken ginger of his fur rubbing up against your legs.

— flashback

The tepid milky liquid ran smoothly down your throat. Having sat by your sewing machine in a forgotten coffee mug, it had long since devoid of any warmth. Your fingers curled around the ceramic, frowning at how the heat barely spread through your hands. The last sip of what would be your fifth cup of espresso slushed in your mouth as you pondered to yourself, “How long has it been?” The bitterness in the lustrous texture is drowned by the lukewarmness albeit, a tang lingered on your tongue. You haven’t quite grown accustomed to the bitter taste richly engrained in coffee but a self-induced caffeinated high was the only way you were going to finish sewing in time for Haechan’s aunt's party. Besides, Anna Wintour wouldn’t down a Coca Cola straight from the can, that seemed as much as a mix-match as animal print and polka dots.

You drew your lower lip between your teeth, there was something not quite right. Attaching the bodice to the skirt of the dress had you anticipating the sense of accomplishment that would have overcome you with a sigh of contentment. Yet, the completed garment looked more like a dead piece of fabric, hung limply over the table as if the sewing machine was a fox biting into the flesh of its prey’s neck. The crystal blue satin was supposed to make you feel stunning and wearing what you had thought of as a small dead animal surprisingly, convinced you weren’t exactly going to feel like a dazzling star against the night sky.

After mulling over what could possibly be missing; sequins, frills, embroidery, ribbons? You decided that perhaps looking at it from a new perspective would help solve the case of: is it in need of sprinkling some sparkly sequins or spicing it up with trendy floral embroidery. Or maybe floral prints embroidered out of sequins? Best of both worlds, isn’t that what Hannah Montana was always preaching about? Another cup of coffee was surely needed or else you might have started singing, “You get the limo out front~”.

You pushed the chair from under you by swinging your feet from in front of you. In a series of clumsy movements, you managed to plunge towards your wardrobe, fling the doors of your closet wide open, one arm reached inside and then, awkwardly wrapped it around Belle. You clambered across your room back to your makeshift fashion studio corner and placed Belle in front of the standing mirror. Belle, short for Annabelle, is your trusty tailor dummy. Belle and you have been together from designing Haechan’s costumes from when he starred in the elementary school plays, all the fashion terrorism in between, to scratching up an A-line dress under 2 days.

With delicate hands, you sifted the dress over the top of your mannequin. Wary of any possible loose stitches, you gently tugged and padded the sides of the dress down. A flake of your nail polish chipped onto your tongue while you examined the dress from a few steps back. Tilting your head to the side, you slowly removed your finger from your mouth, scraping tiny flakes off your nail. You felt the corners of your eyes wrinkle as a smile curled your face and bubbled out a titter. Moments ago you were convinced the dress was so flat of life but there you stood peering into your reflection in the mirror, imagining yourself waltzing down a staircase. At the bottom of the flight of stairs would be Haechan enchanted by how resplendent you would look in the glorious light blue dress. Too overjoyed by your little fantasies twirling in your mind, you had to shake yourself out of your daze because you needed to the hem of the dress.

Upon returning into your bedroom, you winced at the sip of your freshly brewed espresso. It was piping hot and overly bitter though, it was much preferred over the old bath water from the last cup. Nonetheless, it was a source of caffeine so you planned to drink it like a mum unwinding herself with a bottle of red wine. Looking up from the mug wrapped in both your hands, your face squeezed into an expression of perplexion. Startled, you stood frozen in the doorway of your room. Your whole body stiffened in a pose of one of Medusa’s victims at the sight in front you of you. Panic struck over your limbs. Mouth hung agape, you could have sworn you left Belle in front of the mirror and not by the bedroom door. Your heart pounded rapidly against your chest when you remembered you were home alone since your parents were out of town for a business trip. The house was empty, swallowed by the silence it heightened your consciousness of your own breathing.

In some part of your brain, probably the rational part that seemed to be missing at the moment, you knew you should have knew returned Belle and hemmed your dress, spending the last night as a mature and productive teenager. Although, would a mature and productive teenager even be up at that hour? Anyways, you released a shriek from your gut and sprinted to the living room, stumbling down a flight of stairs. Logic was overruled by fear and fight to flight. And even though you knew you probably overreacting, you were certain you did not move Belle an inch from the mirror!

Fled from the haunted mannequin and the entire second story of your home, you sped dialled the top caller ID saved on your phone. “Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up,” you whispered to yourself like an eerie broken record player with the phone pressed to your ear. The hushed chants soon interrupted by a voice thick with sleep.

“It’s 1am,” Haechan groaned at the end of the line.

You chewed the flesh of your bottom lip suddenly rethinking your choice of calling him in the middle of a school night, in the midst of your episode of freak encounters.

“I know but could you come over?” you asked through a grimace like you bit into a lemon.

“It’s 1am!” Had you not been so focused monitoring the staircase of a moving mannequin you would have rolled your eyes. Like he was actually whisked away to the call of slumber when the raucous clicking and gunshots were so obviously heard in the background. Before you could call him out for playing OverWatch on a school night at 1am, he simply said, “Yeah sure but why though?”

A few seconds at the end of your line were silent, debating on how you should phrase that your tailor dummy could very well be cursed. “I think Belle moved on her own,” you said through the same ‘this lemon is so sour’ expression from earlier.

“Ooh Annabelle, told you she’s creepy,” Haechan joked, however, there was a lot of truth to it. The first time you showcased your favourite birthday present to your best friend, Haechan declared it to be named after the notorious demonic doll.

But with Belle living up to her legacy you frantically started to whisper, “No Haechan, I’m serious. When I left the room to get coffee she was in front of the mirror but when I came back she was near the door.”

“Maybe you should call Renjun to come over instead and then maybe he can bring his Ouija board to speak to it,” he jested.

“Not funny.” The last thing you had wanted in your home, which had already been inhabiting a haunted mannequin was an Ouija board. But it was kinda funny.

“Okay, I’m out the door. See you in 5. I mean.... if you don’t die until then.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Haechan tugged on the ends of a long scrap of fabric, squeezing it tightly apart in each hand. “Okay I think we’re safe now,” said Haechan dusting his hands together.

“I don’t know Hyuck maybe we could just sleep in the lounge room,” Y/n suggested from the doorway of her bedroom.

“What do you mean I just-,” he dramatically waved his hands at the wardrobe doors bounded at the handles with the blue satin. “It’s locked up!”

“You locked it up with fabric!” She flung her hands in the air, pointing towards the wardrobe as well.

“It’s not even real, you crackhead!”

Y/n scrunched her nose and crossed her arms over chest.

“Fine!” he huffed. Haechan walked over to her desk and made an apparent gesture of placing his hands on the chair. Before he pulled the chair from underneath the desk he turned his face to mock Y/n with a fleer. The chair bumped against one of the legs of the table and he noticed something light shuffle off the edge of the desk. He continued to drag the chair along the carpet and stopped in front of the wardrobe then, lodged it under the bounded handles creating somewhat of a barricade against the door.

“Better?” he smiled tauntingly.

“Whatever. I’m going to grab extra blankets.”

He watched her plaid purple pyjamas meld into the dimness of the hallway. Light footsteps echoed off the walls in the corridors, leaving him alone in her bedroom with the image of her scrunched-up face in his mind. He shook his head, chuckling at how she arched her eyebrows at him, gruffly crossing her arms. “What has gotten into me?” he sighed. It’s not the first time he has seen her pout and dig in her heels in the ground, seeming that he takes pride in ruffling her feathers as a joke. But tonight made him feel like the joke was on him. That his feelings were playing a silly prank on him. The week before, he was fascinated by the glossy red moving with each word she spoke passionately about the illustrations she was working on. A day ago, he caught himself hypnotised by how she walked down an aisle in a convenience store. On the first step upon entering her bedroom, his eyes caught of the beautiful blue dress clothed on the mannequin, instantly imagining Y/N adorned in the materialised diamonds.

A fleck of white glinted in the corner of his eye, slicing him away from the internal battles, that were his thoughts. Upon stepping closer, he recognised it was a sheet of paper that fell to the ground when he bumped the chair into the legs of the desk. Crouching down on the balls of his feet, he picked up the paper half expecting it to be a design y/n sketched during class. Briefly, he scanned the paper held in hands, his brows knitted together, registering what he had thought was going to be a drawing of dress, was a letter. At the top of the letter was an emblem, similar to the emblem to the school Haechan and yn go to but this one had scissors and measuring tape. His eyes started to anxiously search for an answer to what this letter could possibly be until he stopped at a sentence in bold.

‘We are happy to inform you that the Paris Institute of Fashion has accepted your application for admission.” He got his answer; an acceptance letter, and a lump in his throat.

A soft thud lifted Haechan’s downturned stare to a pile of quilted blanket unfolding at sock-clad feet. He met Y/n’s widened eyes with an empty stare, watching how her irises flickered from his face to the letter held in his hands. The drawn down corners of his lower lip quivered as the words merely whispered from his mouth, “When were you going to tell me?”

Y/n began to shake the head fervently, stuttering, “I- I don’t know…” Her voice faltered as she cast her gaze to her feet, feeling guilt under the scrutiny of his emotionless stare.

“You don’t know when you were going to tell me?” his chest rising from the slumped posture of shoulders. “Was it when you’re halfway across the world?” he sniped.

The sudden rise in the volume of his voice had y/n immediately grinding her teeth. “Why were you snooping through my stuff!” she retaliated, deflecting his interrogation and sitting him down at the turned detective’s table.

Haechan jaw jutted forward a couple times before he spluttered back, “I wasn’t!” He shot back defensively, “I dropped it when I was moving the chair and I went to pick it up!”

“You didn’t have to read it!” she retorted, marching over to him and snatching the letter from his grip.

“Seriously? ” he asked incredulously, only to be answered with a cold stare hardened on her face. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I said I don’t know,” she exasperated. The iciness sharpened on her face melted slowly into weariness.

Haechan gulped dryly, his throat hoarse from shouting. In preparation for an answer, he knows will make his heart drop deeper into his heaved chest, “Do you want to go?”

“Yes.”

The single syllable penetrated through the room, deafening silence between them, so blaring that it echoed through Haechan mind. A roll of film played on the fastest speed in his mind of their little adventures from when they were six and would swing side by side, under that enormous maple tree at the local park. To walking side by side on the first day of high school with their timetables opened, as they tried to find which classes they shared. To earlier that morning, sitting side by side on the bus ride to school, sharing earphones, listening to a playlist they made together on a sleepover a week ago. He swallowed hard. Wouldn’t she miss being side by side?

“It’s late and we should go to bed,” she said trailing back to pick up the pile of blankets dropped in the middle of the doorway. She glanced back to him, “Are you going to help me?”

Air escaping from beneath the sheets as the thick quilt sunk on top of the bed was the only intermission of silence within the bedroom. Haechan gruffly reached for a pillow and settled it in the middle of the bed. He picked up another one and aligned it with the other one, not once making eye contact with the girl tugging the quilt at the top corners of the bed.

“I don’t want the first thing I see tomorrow morning to be your face,” Haechan said. Answering the quizzical look he knew was ridden all over her face when he placed yet, another pillow down the centre of the bed.

“Oh really,” she replied, picking up a frilly cushion from the floor. “Well I guess soon enough I won’t have to see your face for any longer,” she hummed, adding the cushion on top of the Great Pillow War of Y/n’s Bed.

“Ha! You really think I’m going to let you live across the world and not facetime you every day. Y/n, you poor delusional girl,” he shook his head in faux dismay.

“Threat or a promise?” she grinned.

“Both,” he grinned back.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Donghyuck walks through the unlocked front door to his home, juggling his opened packet of Pocky and his house keys in one hand. A series of gunshots and yelling resound from the living room, far from the seductive call of a siren but Donghyuck blindly follows anyways.

“How was vocal practice?” Johnny, his older brother, asks. Not looking up from the television screen as his thumbs hammer into the controller gripped in his hands.

“Usual,” Donghyuck says, with a mouth full of chocolate flavoured Pocky. Chocolate never did seem to disappoint.

“So how’s y/n?” The mention of her name takes him back for a second especially, out of Johnny’s mouth. He never really express any sort of opinion of her, Donghyuck at times, even forgot the two knew of each other.

“Good I guess,” he replies nonchalantly, walking over to grab the spare console controller on the coffee table.

“You guess?” Donghyuck could see his Johnny’s forehead conjugate from the corner of his eyes.

“I haven’t been talking to her lately,” Donghyuck said, with an insouciant shrug, finally logging into his game profile.

“Shouldn’t you?” Johnny prods when Donghyuck doesn’t expand on his vague reply.

“Shouldn’t you mind your own business?” The television screen pauses and the leather of the couch stifles a groan as Johnny shifts himself to look at the younger boy. Johnny frowned at him. It’s not the response Donghyuck thought he would receive, rather something quick-witted and sharp-tongued for him to rebuttal. Until a sudden, unwanted realisation quickly washes over him of whom he was talking to or more accurately, who he wasn’t talking to. “I’ve just been busy lately,” the nonchalance in his voice receding.

Although he knows it wasn’t satisfactory enough of an answer and he is proved correct when Johnny begins, “The Donghyuck and Y/n I know used to have phone calls at 4am. You’ve both have never been too busy for one another.” Johnny noticed by the end of his sentence, Donghyuck’s entire expression dulled. His doe eyes saddened into sullen brown hues reminding, the older brother of the scene where Bambi loses his mother.

“Listen, I don’t want to go all big brother on you,” Johnny gently starts upon Donghyuck falling silent. “But should we talk about why you’re ignoring your best friend?”

“Because…” he mumbles, not sure if he can confide to his older brother about this or his feelings in general. Then, Johnny leans towards him, waiting for him to continue with gentle eyes and it’s enough to convince him. “Because,” he breathes. “I heard her mother tell mum she was thinking of moving back home because being the institute has been hard. I’m scared if I talk to her I’ll end up convincing her to come back home… To me.”

Johnny leans back into his spot, drawing out a ‘hmm’ through pursed lips. The younger doe-eyed boy awaits him like a patient when they just gave their symptoms to a doctor.

“Do you remember the first time you went to that drama camp for summer,” Johnny perks up.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck answers though, not completely sure why the summer camp he went to when he was nine could correlate to his medical evaluation.

“Do you remember the third night?”

“Kind of.”

“Well, you called mum in the middle of the night crying to go home,” recounts Johnny. “And do you remember why?”

“Because I didn’t know anyone and everyone else seemed better than me,” Haechan recalls in a small voice.

“But who reminded you that you were just as talented as the other kids?”

“Y/n.”

Clear memories flood through his mind so vividly. He remembers how he had woken up the camp supervisor and begged in fury of briny tears bursting from his bloodshot eyes, to call his mother. The first three days of drama camp were utterly terribly; all the other kids had their own friendship circles they formed when they were five and were all fiercely competitive for that lead role. It was the first time, Haechan had ever felt left out and doubted his own talent, he had always been the centre of everyone’s attention. And then, over his ferocious wails, he heard a familiar, squeaky little voice. He remembers, her softly coaxing him over the phone for almost an hour. Gently persuading him to stay at the drama camp because if anyone deserved the main role it was him and soon enough, no one would be able to resist his bright charm.

“This was the first summer you two had spent separated and you were y/n’s only friend at the time. Don’t you think she would have wanted to tell you to come back home… to her?” Johnny asks looking deep into Donghyuck’s eyes. “She’s always been your no. 1 supporter, from making your costumes, running lines with you, being the first one to celebrate when you get a role. It’s time for you to help her shine.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

An array of warm amber creaks from under the horizon. The Sun not quite ready, to come around like a young child on the swings who's been told it’s time to go home. It’s nearing dawn, close to early morning, you know because you can’t hear the whir of machinery yet, and the world is as silent as if it ended in the night. The moon, however, is gracefully returning to its depths as it unwinds less and less from the magical pearl and into a swindle of a luminous strand.

— flashback

Snip. Snip. Snip. A loose strand of blue thread drifted to the floor. You edged backwards from your full-length mirror to get a clearer view of yourself in the a-line dress. In the reflection, you observed the small, smile curve closer and closer to your hands cupping the side of your cheeks. It was exactly how you imagined in your head. An elegant, crystal blue dress, that flattered your body in classic lines with a lovely sweetheart neckline and flowed to just below your knees. A very girlish giggle bubbled from your mouth and rippled in your bedroom as you began to twirl in your beautiful, blue dress. The soft, satin swirled around you, its sheen twinkling the lights from the ceilings so magically. You would have kept spinning had you not have heard a car from outside your window, whom you assumed to be your best friend pulling into your driveway. Frantically, you spritzed an expensive floral perfume you brought a while ago but hadn’t worn since it smelled like your hard-earnt money draining from your pockets.

“Honey! Haechan is here,” your mother called from downstairs.

“Okay!” you yelled back, rushing over to collect your nude purse.

You inhaled a deep breath before taking your first step down the stairs. Second step. It wasn’t like you haven’t spent a night out with Haechan before. Fifth step. He has been your date to prom and formals every year, this wasn’t any different. Eleventh step. He wanted to ask out Soo-ah, you were the back-up plan. Thirteenth step. He was the most beautiful thing you have ever laid eyes on.

At the bottom of the flight of stairs awaited Haechan dressed in a black tuxedo with his hands clasped together in front of him. The white of his button-up shirt was crisp against his sunkissed, tanned skin. The bowtie sprouting from his collar had you shaking your head with a grin plastering itself across your face. He peered up you, with those big, brown doe eyes through his tousled, hazel locks framing his brows. His blissful gaze followed you down the last set of steps. You caught a glimpse of a tentative smile crept along his rosy lips as he caught onto what you were chuckling about. Until, you were distracted by your mother smiling, all too knowingly, from behind Donghyuck and you shooed her away.

“This is the first time I’m tied my own bowtie,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Hey, for a first attempt this is pretty good,” he remarked, tilting his chin up as you began to loop the bow tie.

“Mhm. Keep telling yourself that, loser,” you smirked.

“Whatever, you ready to go, low-budget Cinderella?”

You heard your mother sigh in defeat from the kitchen.

“Hyuck are you sure we’re allowed to go back here right now?” you questioned in a hushed voice from behind Donghyuck, humming a tune to himself. Five minutes before you were naively following Haechan into the midst of the starry night, the invitation proposed by the sun-kissed boy to sneak off from the party to the gardens under the night sky sounded thrilling. As the sappy love songs blasting from the party slowly reduced to vibrations on the pavement, the straps of your stilettos began to pinch, dig and chafe against your heels and the thought of sitting down filled you with much more of a rush of exhilaration.

“We’re here,” Haechan announced, looking beyond and over his shoulder you saw it too.

A white gazebo was illuminated by veils of fairy lights, lit up like fireflies. A row white rose bushes encircled the gazebo, in their freshly trimmed glory. The gazebo stood virtuously against the painted black sky like some kind of answer.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Wonderstruck glittered in Y/n’s eyes. Haechan thought the sparkle in her eyes challenged the twinkling of the fairy lights wrapped around the gazebo, no the expanse of the night sky. Her celestial eyes shone so brightly, he found himself staring at her from aside in complete awe of her. He swore he never felt this way before. Feeling like he could lose himself in the constellation of someone’s eyes, let alone his best friend’s. A feeling so gradual like the morning sky, fading into the inky abyss of the night. Till it was washing over his body like tidal waves crashing into the stoic rocks on the shore. It drowned his lungs, weighed down his stomach and yet, he was floating all at once.

He didn’t allow the better judgment of his mind to dictate of his mind and would have refrained him from placing his hand in her delicates ones and escorting her into the gazebo.

“Haechan,” she whispered. The lustre beams poured gently over her and Haechan drank in the sight of an angel before him. Blue had never looked more ethereal, slipped onto her shoulders, peppering her body with soft, sensual kisses he longed to do in that very moment.

“Dance with me,” he breathes. “Dance with me.”

His hands found themselves around her waist and whisked her into the middle of the gazebo floor. A puff of wind swept through her silky hair, leaving him breathless.

“We can’t hear the music from here,” she giggled. It was soft, so soft. But the epiphany that his favourite song would soon be only a memory, sank his already hurting heart.

He slipped a hand into the back pocket of his trousers, revealing earphones and his phone. He doesn’t allow her to question him instead, he gently placed an earphone in her ear and his own ear and pressed play.

Her arms found home around his neck and they swayed in each other’s embrace to the melody quietly strumming in their ears. If it weren’t for her arms wrapped around him, he would have fallen apart. Falling deeper for those heavenly eyes was overwhelmingly crushing so he tucked his forehead onto hers and closed his eyes.

“Haechan, promise me something,” Y/n whispered against his chest. He hummed into her hair. “Promise me we’ll still be best friends. Promise me you’ll be my home. Promise me you’ll always be the centre of my universe. My FullSun.” How could he possibly deny her of her one request when he saw skies of stars copied into the softened swirl of the gaze, looking right up at him from under her thickly shadowed eyelashes.

“I promise.”

That night was the sweetest song, Haechan had ever heard. The humming of the black, the stars were a choir; they were lights that sang a symphony of infinite patterns. Then, the unexpected rain fell, cascading from the rim of the gazebo like a waterfall, as if gravity is soft music from the Earth, a sweet beckoning serenade. And they danced and danced in each other’s arms, slowly to the sweetest serenade gifted from the night sky.

— end of flashback

Your finger traces the trails of a desolate rain drop streaming down the chill window. The chorus of rain courses through your body in the gentlest way like nature was humming through your body. The moon had long departed, the Sun is hidden by matted wool of leaden clouds, and you hear your dormmates waking up in the rooms next to yours. As you close your eyes, you feel the heady pull of your dreams, beckoning you back into bed after your long night of solitude, talking to the moon. You turn begrudgingly to the light switch and flick it, immediately the room is immersed in that unnatural electric glow, and you find yourself absentmindedly staring at your phone sunk in the crumples of white sheets of your bed, waiting.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Haechan stares out his bedroom window. The earlier conversation with his older brother, Johnny, echoes in whispers at the back of his mind. His damp eyes follow a drop of rain trickling down his window pane and he can’t explain why it steadies his heart. Why the gentle pitter-patter soothes a calmness over his mind, like a soothing melody, a sweet serenade. Watching rain roll down the window, he spots in the reflection of the glass his cell phone laying on his bed.

Promises aren’t made to be broken.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“Haechan?”

“It’s raining.”

“It’s raining here, too.”

#neowritingsnet #lee donghyuck #nct haechan #nct writings #nct fic #nct oneshots #nct angst #haechan oneshots #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan angst #haechan fluff #haechan fics #haechan x reader #haechan oneshot

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xiudaddyhadmelike · 6 years

Text

Connection

Member(s): Xiumin X Female reader. Briefly Chen.

Genre: smut

Word count: 1,375

Warning: smut obviously

*NSFW*

Throbbing music, pulsing lights and alcopops aren’t for everyone. Certainly I never really thought they would be for me, but that’s the funny thing about life. Sometimes you think you’re having a night in with the cat and then your best friend bursts through the door yelling about fit girls and happy hours. At least he remembered to knock this time, even if he didn’t wait on the chance tonight was jerk-off night. I’m single, I know.

So that’s how I ended up at Sound. Dressed up like dapper gentlemen, Jongdae and I prepared for a night of cramped dancing, awkward shouty conversations and possibly, unlikely, earning the company of a lady.

I won’t bore you with the all the details since there are basically none. Arrive, shot, dance, shot, avoid people’s projectile vomit, shot, try to look at but not make eye contact with girls, double shots because you got caught. Anyway, we both thought we were out of luck after a few hours went by and nothing lady-wise. Sure, getting girls isn’t everything but it does something great to the ol’ ego.

Then I saw her. It was definitely cinematic in my mind, everything around went hazy and time slowed down and a gentle breeze blew her hair perfectly. Or probably not.

“Oh, she is peng!” Thank you, Jongdae.

To be fair, she really was gorgeous. Beautiful, sun-bronzed skin and shiny hair, makeup yes but classy, a very, ahem, elegant dress that was essentially sheer and white satin in places where appropriate. And, of course, a wonderful behind. I’m a man, I’m not going to look past something that shapely.

Peng.

“Tenner says she goes home with me and not you,” Jongdae smirked.

“I mean, we live together.”

“Alright hun, I kinda meant the principle,” he said. I sighed. He was always like this, thinking he was some big ladies man. I guess he got more girls than me but at least I’d be willing to buy her flowers and tampons when she needed them. Probably. But what the heck.

“Okay, tenner it is,” I agreed before swallowing the last of my drink with a shudder. I’d take a good cappuccino over this concoction any day. He smiled, adjusted his hair and sauntered on over. I watched to see what technique I could either learn or avoid; it’s pretty fifty-fifty with Jongdae and his methods of seduction.

Even from across the club I could see her eyes glass over and I’ve yet to think up a theory as to why Jongdae couldn’t. For now we’ll go with over-ego. Then it’s as if a lightbulb went off above my head and I knew I could win that tenner. So after watching the girl endure more of Jongdae’s pick-up lines, I walked over with the most heroic walk I could muster.

“There you are, Jongdae! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” I announced. Jongdae did not look impressed from the slight glare on his face, but I kept going. A tenner would cover a pack of Skyns. I grinned and turned to the goddess standing before me. “Sorry about my friend, he’s actually trying to get over his fear of women. I think it’s pretty much worked so you must be a very special girl.” She smiled and turned to Jongdae.

“Y’know, I think that was really brave of you,” she said. Jongdae smiled back but was pissed, to say the least. Meanwhile I was internally celebrating having gotten this far that I almost missed it when I hear her say “Wanna grab a drink?” I nodded and we left Jongdae standing alone, shoulders hunched and already calling an uber, already admitting defeat. Or maybe he let me have that one.

Again this calls for another written time lapse. Drink, talk, drink, flirt, talk, flirt, flirt, flirt. We were getting along well, and maybe the time went by quickly or she was as desperate for me as I was for her, but she was pretty soon smoothing my shirt collar with her other hand on my thigh.

“I could do with a ride home if you’d be willing?” she suggested with a glint in her eyes. After almost falling out of my chair in disbelief, I hastily agreed and next thing you know the uber stops outside her place and she’s leading me into the elevator.

Once inside, she looks up at me with what could only be described as lust in her eyes. “You up for this?” she asked. I assumed ‘this’ could only mean p in v and boy, was I up for it? Of course. The elevator stopped and we opened out into a dim corridor. As soon as she closed her apartment door behind her, I decided to do something I was unaccustomed to. Being bold.

So I pushed her back against the door and kissed her. I think she may have been surprised but she soon kissed back and her arms slid around my neck. I hooked my hands around her legs and picked her up, earning a small moan from her and a surprisingly quick erection for me. Once I had her on the bed and my shoes and shirt on the floor I got to work on her. Leaning in and brushing my lips over neck, I gently slipped her dress off and looked back to admire her.

Words can barely describe it. The lingerie she was wearing was lacy, muted, pretty. As in pretty hot. It cupped her breasts perfectly, and I could only imagine what it would be like to very shortly have her completely bare in front of me. Her skin looked so smooth and it was as I ran my hand up her thigh. We couldn’t keep our eyes off each other as she leaned forward to remove my trousers.

“You’re pretty,” I said. She looked up and smirked.

“So are you.” We both laughed. I took her by surprise and flipped her on her back so she was now staring up at me. Placing more kissing and nibbles on her neck, I unclasped her bra and slid my hands up to her breasts. Soft, perfectly sized, incredible in fact. She moaned quietly at the touch as I played with her. But I grew impatient.

“Okay to leave these on?” I pointed to her panties. Some kind of kink I have. She nodded. I swiftly took off my underwear and reached into my wallet. I quickly slid the rubber on and tossed the wrapper aside. I tenderly moved her panties to the side, revealing how glistening and wet she was.

“Anything I shouldn’t do before we start?” I asked as I lined myself up with her hole.

“No role-playing, no nicknames,”she replied with impatience in her voice. This is what I meant by good for the ego; mutual desperation and lust.

“Good. Not into it either,” I said as I slid inside her. She gave a long moan and her hands gripped around my arms. Giving her a moment to adjust to me, I carefully hooked her legs over my shoulders, giving me full access to her pussy. I began methodically thrusting deep inside of her, earning glorious sounds from her. I must admit, she felt so amazing I almost made the same sounds back.

Once she was comfortable with my size, I sped up as she moaned and skin smacked against skin. I gave her ass a gentle slap and as my mind drifted, I couldn’t help but wonder about this girl. Yes, she was a stranger who I saw in a club and whose bed I am now pounding her in, but I felt there may be something more there. This was unlike other one night stands in a way I couldn’t describe. Special? I guess so.

She whimpered beneath me with her hands clawing at my biceps and I was brought back to the moment, the oh so lovely moment. I took in way she felt, the sounds she made, the softness of her skin, her wonderful ass in my hand and her perfect breasts. And then I took in the features of her face. Very pretty. And I was getting a tenner in return for an amazing connection like this.

#THE FACT I HAD TO WRITE THE WORD PUSSY I WANT TO DIEEEE #exo #exo smut #exo scenario #exo fanfic #exo k #exo m #exo reactions #exo imagines #xiumin #minseok #kim minseok #xiumin smut #xiumin scenario #minseok smut #kpop #gif is not mine

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free-falling-grenade · 6 years

Text

The Gazebo under a cherry tree

Also in here. Ao3

Chapter 1

The horrid sound of Beca's ringtone was something she despised nowadays. After her fame had reached its peak a year after the USO tour, it was definitely more work than she had imagined. Fame still at peak 3 years today but as a new and fairly known music producer which she preferred rather than being the performing artist. The 2 years singing career was enough to put her name out there as she used it to her advantage to show off her main talent.

Beca let out a distasteful groan as she managed to lift her heavy eyelids to the sound of the dull ringtone that echoed in her house. She let it ring. It was a Sunday, the only day off she had where she slept in till late afternoon and ate like a slob. However, a call on a Sunday morning meant they needed her. As reluctant and unwilling Beca was, she would get up and do it. Because that was all she could do.

As much as Beca loved her job, basically living the dream, working with amazing artists who wants her to produce their album, how exciting the rush of it all gave her; at the end of the day, going back to her beautiful, small Malibu home - it was lonely. Beca Mitchell at 30 years old, had some sort of social life, little to no love life and out right alone. She still had the Bellas, some visiting her when they could but with half of them like Stacie and Flo who had two children already and the other half, either focused on their own work, newly wed or just about to get married. The thought of marriage sent a wave of sadness to cloud all over her.

Her tired, exhausted and slightly hungover state managed to sit up turning her body to stare at the half burnt invitation that lay on her side table along with empty bottles of beer and an ash tray of blunts. She frowned at the sight. The reason for her wild Saturday night alone of getting wasted and high to almost burning her bedsheets while she tried to extinguish the excruciating painful reality that laid written on the fine printed paper.

You are invited to join us at

OUR WEDDING:

Chloe Beale

Chicago Walp

Come and be a part of the three day preparation including the wedding day!

Friday to Sunday. April 23rd to 25th at 2:00pm.

Chateau Elan Winery & Resort

100 Rue Charlemagne

Braselton, Georgia.

Beca would be lying if she said she didnt expect it to happen, she definitely did. But that didn't mean she was ready for it. She knew, even with millions of ways her head had tried to deny it, to instead make up nasty assumptions that they would fall apart one day, that the redhead would come running to her and everything would be perfect. Unfortunately, those thoughts itself made it hurt a little more. Because she knew yet she helplessly hoped.

She was hopelessly in love with Chloe Beale. After the USO tour, they all sadly moved out of their small Brooklyn apartment going their separate ways. However, she didnt expect going their separate ways meant the bond she had with her bestfriend to leave along with it. She tried not to blame it solely because of her newly found boyfriend but she knew that was one of the main reasons. They tried to talk to each other everyday but as days went by, time and work consumed their freedom leaving the miserable distance between them to become a reality in their friendship. From long phone calls and texts to one sentence or word messages, then eventually nothing. Their WhatsApp group of the Bellas now only popping up from time to time but none of both the girls usually reply more than an emoji.

They were inseparable but she guessed even the most dynamic duo could be torn apart. Maybe it was for the best.

×××

She let the days go by without acknowledging the invitation that was now crumbled up at the corner of her room where she had thrown it one night when a wave of painful memories attack her.

Aubrey had noticed, sadly so. They always texted each other and snapped pictures of unconventional things which either Beca or Aubrey would say it reminded them of each other. Whether a snap of a garbage bin, a grumpy looking cartoon that was showing on TV or a man with blonde long hair (snapped by Beca) saying it looked like Aubrey.

Aubrey knew that Beca barely touched any sort of social media but she used it enough also per orders of her publicists for her image. So when she noticed the lack of communication between them, she knew. Which led her to visit the brunette without her knowing, only to find her in a heartbreaking state.

×××

It took a few months to heal halfway. The wedding only a few weeks left and Beca still hadn't RSVP'D. Till eventually she had made a decision,

"I'm going."

Aubrey turned to her brunette friend lying beside her on the warm sandy Malibu beach. They had decided to go out even if they weren't exactly beach people, LA lifestyle started to grow in them. Plus it was admittedly relaxing.

The blonde lifted her sunglasses on her head raising an eyebrow at the small brunette beside her,

"You said that last time."

The producer let out a scoff accompanied by a sad smile, "I've come to terms.. with myself yknow. I need closure. and I feel like this is my last chance. If I dont do it, I'll be stuck.. and I wouldnt know what the hell I'm gonna do if I let myself be in this dark shitty hole for God knows how long."

Beca paused taking a sharp inhale noticing herself lose composure a bit, she exhaled when she felt Aubrey's a little hesitant but reassuring hold on her forearm.

She sat up joining her friend beside her thankful for Aubrey and her friendship that had developed into some unspeakable mutual understanding. It wasnt as deep as Chloe's because that was different, but she's grateful for whatever rock she had right now she could hold on to. She wasn't as awkward when she opened up anymore, plus Aubrey already saw the worse of her.

"I know it's going to hurt. God..." she let's out a mirthless chuckle, " it's going to be worse than that, but I'll behave, I promise. I'll leave when I find myself losing control, or slap the fuck out of me might work as well. But I do want to be there. I need to see it. One final look, yknow? One final glance at her being the happiest she has ever been in her whole God damn life. One final reality check that this is it. Just...one final heartbreak. To end everything. So maybe I can start again. "

Aubrey could hear the broken desperation in her vulnerable shaky voice. She took a glance at the brunette beside her, the pain so evident, almost tangible, her own heart broke for her. The sound of distant laughter and the crash of the waves now muted in her ears, just the warm blow of the california breeze brushing through them as a reassuring touch on their delicate skin.

She didn't respond. She knew she didnt have to. So she firmly nodded, a silent promise she'll watch over her. The music producer turning to give her a big grin and a thumbs up while she excused herself to go to the restroom.

Aubrey found it quite ironic. If she told her old self that she would be taking care her of her best friend's crush, who she hated the very existence of, from heartbreak, the old her would have projectile vomited on her face. But here she was, from all those years taking care of Chloe's broken heart because of Beca's relationship with Jesse to Beca's even more painful experience with watching the love of her life slip away from her because she was too late.

This wasn't even her story, yet why did she feel like suffocating? She can't even imagine to start what Beca was feeling.

#bechloe #pitch perfect #post pp3 #beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe fanfic #mine #bechloe angst #what do yall think #lame? i know

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mar-chant-live-without-you · 7 years

Text

Homesick

Pairing: Aleks Marchant x Reader Word Count: 2,705 Warnings: alcohol Notes: based on the song homesick by catfish and the bottlemen (x)

It doesn’t matter whether you were broken up with or the one doing the breaking. It doesn’t matter when it was, how long it took, or the reason why. Break ups are always hard in some way or another. That being said, break ups are always harder for one person than they are for the other.

Your break up with Aleks was one of the saddest days of your life. You guys had been together for over 3 years, but as you progressed forward, you realized you weren’t looking for the same things in life. Aleks loved to joke, light things on fire, smoke occasionally, and just fuck around in general. Though you loved his playfully, jokey, fucking around self, it got to a point where you were done with the childish games and were ready to grow up. Aleks wasn’t.

You met Asher a few months after you and Aleks had broken up. You weren’t looking for a relationship by any stretch of the imagination, but Asher was so cool and mature at the same time. He loved to joke around and have a good time, but knew when enough was enough. He was the best parts of Aleks and the best parts of you merged into one.

Within a few weeks, you and Asher were hanging out constantly and getting closer and closer. You felt comfortable enough to talk to him about life and yourself and even Aleks. Asher had to ask a few times, but on the 3rd try, you finally agreed to go out with him.

Aleks found out from their mutual friend, James, about 2 days later. He wasn’t handling it well at all. He was sad and confused. He was taking the break up harder than you, definitely. It was getting better and better until he found out that you guys were dating 3 months later.

3:01 AM / Saturday

Recently after you and Asher started dating, you get a call, waking you up in the middle of the night.

“Hello?” you ask, groggily.

“(y/n?)” you hear, slurred, from the other line.

You sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes and squinting at the phone screen. Aleksandr “Aleks?”

“I needed to talk to you.” he says. You can tell he is intoxicated in some way.

“Aleks, go to bed,” you say, preparing to hang up the phone.

“Asher’s cheating on you. He doesn’t love you,” Aleks slurs.

You take a deep breath. You weren’t interested in Aleks drunkenly or highly calling you in the middle of the night to accuse your boyfriend of cheating on you. It was annoying and it was sad.

“Goodnight, Aleks,” you say, hanging up the phone and falling back asleep.

3:08 AM / Wednesday

Aleks calls again in 4 days.

Your phone is ringing and ringing and ringing.

“Hello?” you answer.

“I miss you so much.”

You run your hand through your hair and check, though you don’t need to, and see that it’s Aleks yet again. You take a deep breath. “Aleks, please go to bed.”

“Do you miss me?” he says, slurring again. You can obviously tell it’s a repeat of the other night. Intoxicated Aleks calls you and blabs on about you and him and Asher.

“Aleks, please. Go to sleep,” you say, sleepily.

“I can’t sleep. I miss you. Asher isn’t right for you, you know that? I.. I was right for you, I miss you.”

“I’m hanging up Aleks,” you mutter.

“N-“ click.

3:36 AM / Monday

You're in Asher's bed, sleeping, when your phone rings, jolting you awake.

Shit, fuck, shit, shit, shit.

You weren't in the mood to explain to Asher why Aleks was calling you at almost 4 in the morning.

You grab the phone, muting it and ignoring the call. It lights back up almost immediately, buzzing and vibrating. You ignore it again, but it just starts going off again. You quietly get out of bed and sneak off into the kitchen.

"What do you want!" you say, hushed.

"You, (y/n), I want you back, I'm" -hic- "ready to change for you!" There he is with the slurring.

"Aleks you are not in any state to talk about this right now," you say back to him, still whispering.

"Why are you whispering? Where are you?"

"That's none of your business... I'm hanging up."

"No! Wait! Please! Let me talk to you! I miss your voice... I miss you in my arms. (y/n), please.."

You take a deep breath. Aleks was your weakness. You wanted nothing more than to go crawl in Aleks' bed and lay there forever. You miss him more than you would ever admit aloud.

"Goodnight, Aleks," you murmur. You hang up the phone and walk back to Asher's room and crawl back into bed with him. You push your head under his arm, trying to get closer.

He instinctively grabs you and kisses your head, still basically totally asleep. You feel safe and you feel happy, but it's not Aleks.

2:53 AM / Tuesday

He called you again less than 24 hours later. He wouldn't stop telling you he missed you.

"Baby, please," he was slurring, but more than that, he was.. crying? His voice was hoarse and his breathing was erratic.

You wanted to scream that you weren't his baby, but you couldn't. You wanted to hear it again and again and again.

"Aleks, you need to stop calling me at 3 AM, drunk, and telling me lies," you say, clearing your throat.

"It's not a lie. I miss you. Asher isn't right for you. It's..." -hic- "It's true... I'm just looking out for you."

"It's obvious that's a lie, Aleks..."

You took a deep breath. Asher was amazing. He was so responsible and funny and attractive and positive. Asher was legitimately almost perfect. And the only reason you say almost is because he likes crunchy peanut butter instead of smooth.

"Aleks, you need to stop calling me at 3 AM," you say.

"But I miss you. And I want... I need to hear your voice," he says.

If you're being honest to no one but yourself, you needed to hear his voice too. You hadn't talked to him since the break up and him calling you just made you miss his voice more and more.

"You need to stop, Aleks... Goodnight," you say, hanging up the phone. You put your phone back on the charger before laying back down and thinking about Aleks as you fell asleep.

3:02 AM / Tuesday

It had been a week since Aleks had called last. You found yourself waking up at 3 AM anyways, waiting for his "I miss you" call. You checked your phone for missed calls and upon seeing nothing, you contemplated calling him. After heavily deciding against it, you laid your head on your pillow.

1:45 AM / Friday

Asher had convinced you to go out, like actually go out. Like, "dressed up, hair done, call an uber because we're going to get trashed" out. You, James, Anna, Jakob, and Brett found yourself out, bar hopping all over downtown LA.

You were drinking and having the time of your life when Anna tells you that your phone is going off.

You grab your phone, seeing Aleks' name on the screen. Your eyes go wide and you silence it quickly and throw it in your back pocket.

"Are you okay?" Anna asks.

You nod at her and dismiss it, having another drink. The rest of the night, you manage to ignore your phone.

You make it back to your place by 2:40. You check your phone when you get in bed, 7 missed calls from Aleksandr, 14 unread texts from Alexsandr.

Please call mee I misd you (y/n) I cabt Pl Ease I miss yui sou mucg please I need to hesr your voice (y/n) (y/n) plwase Call me bahc I can't sleep withiut goy I'm so saf Baby please

You sigh, actually contemplating calling him back. You hadn't talked to him in more than a week and you wanted to hear him call you baby again.

You took a deep breath and punched in his number. He answered in a scary short amount of time. "(y/n)!"

"I was just.....," you start. What were you just? You idiot..... you just wanted to hear your ex call you baby????

"I just.... I," you didn't know what to say. You couldn't say anything. You don't know.

"I missed you," Aleks tells you, "I- I tried to just not call you because you told me not to, but I couldn't just... I couldn't... Asher gets to hear your voice every day.. he... he gets to hold you and kiss you and I couldn't go even 2 weeks without needing to hear you! To talk to you!"

"Aleks," you say softly.

"I miss you so much, (y/n)," he says.

You close your eyes. Why can you not stop thinking about him calling you baby. You just want- need him to say it before you go to bed.

"Baby, I miss you so much, it isn't fair. It isn't fair," he says.

You take a deep breath. Asher calls you baby all the time and it doesn't have the same effect on you as when Aleks calls you it. "Aleks, I'm tired, I.. I gotta go to sleep."

"Okay... Goodnight."

You hung up the phone, your eyelids heavy, falling asleep within seconds.

2:48 AM / Thursday

It was almost a week until the next call. But this one, this one was different.

Your phone rang and you woke up, grabbing the phone and answering it. "Hello?"

"Baby, I miss you. Can I please see you?"

It was different than the other times. He wasn't slurring his words, his throat wasn't hoarse, he didn't sound high. He seemed completely sober.

"What... what do you mean?"

"I wa- I need to see you, to hold you again. Just, just once more, (y/n), please." His voice was sober and, more than that, it was sincere.

"Where?" It was just one word, but it meant so much.

"My apartment, please," he says.

"I'll be right there..." You throw your legs out of the bed, putting on your normal clothes before leaving.

You make it to Aleks apartment pretty quickly, punching in his pin and making it upstairs. You knock on his door very softly. You were getting so nervous, waiting for him, but all of that went away when he opened the door.

You couldn't help yourself, you launched yourself at him, nearly knocking him over. You wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes. He cupped his hands under your butt, and just like before, you jump up a little and wrap your legs around his waist.

For a scrawny boy, he's holding you up with ease. He's holding you tight. He walks towards his room with you. Making it inside, he lays you down on the bed and then lays down next to you.

You grab his waist, holding him tight and close. "I missed you, Aleks."

He wrapped his arms around you equally as tight. He kissed the top of your head and took a moment to just take it all in. "I missed you, (y/n)."

At this point, you can start feeling the fact that it's almost 4 AM. You yawn, closing your eyes. You can't help but to drift to sleep in the comfort of Aleks' arms.

7:37 AM / Thursday

You wake up entangled in Aleks, literally. Your legs are wrapped around his and your arm is under his head, but you're holding onto his arm with your other arm. His other arm is draped over top of you.

You slowly open your eyes, yawning. Once your eyes open completely you realize where you actually are and what you're actually doing.

You remove your arms from under and around him and your legs from around his and you sit up, causing Aleks to wake up.

You didn't do anything with Aleks last night other than share a bed with him, but you feel so guilty that you can't breathe normally.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Aleks says, rubbing his eyes.

"I... I have to go," you say, getting up.

"What? Why?" he asks.

"Aleks, I have a boyfriend. I can't just be sleeping over your place," you say, running your hands through your hair and then putting on your shoes.

As your about to leave, he stops you, "Do you regret last night?"

You think back to last night, remembering his arms around you and the feeling of his lips on your forehead. You remember how much you missed it. You shake your head, "No, Aleks, not at all." And with that, you're gone.

1:18 AM / Friday

You find yourself in bed fairly early, thinking about Aleks. Just like that, you get a text.

My bed is always open...

You're tempted to take him up on that offer tonight, but you fight yourself on it and end up staying in your own bed and shutting off your phone for the rest of the night.

12:36 AM / Friday

You thought that Aleks not contacting you would be a good thing, but in reality, it made everything worse. After that night with him, you needed to be with him again.

You had spent a few nights at Asher's during the week, trying to forget about Aleks, but you couldn't. You couldn't. You can't stress it enough, Asher is AMAZING, but he's not Aleks.

1:02 AM / Friday

You hesitate before knocking on the door softly. You wait a second before knocking again.

The door swings open and you wrap your arms around the shirtless blonde.

"(y/n)? What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, I just. I got lonely at my place and... I'm sorry."

Asher laughs. "Why are you apologizing, baby? You're always welcome here."

You go into Asher's room, crawling in bed with him. You put your head on his shoulder and try to fall asleep with him, but you can't. You can't stop yourself from thinking about Aleks and how he weirdly radiates so much heat, but somehow manages to have icicles for hands. You can't stop thinking about his tattoos on his chest or the way he always kinda smells like peppermint.

You watch Asher doze off to sleep. You are lucky. You are so lucky to have such an amazing, perfect boyfriend. Asher is everything you want in your future. He has his head on his shoulders and a plan for his life. He's the perfect guy to plan your future with. He's everything you want in your future, but he's not everything you want now.

You sit up at this realization. Aleks may be childish and he may not be the most responsible person in the world, but he loves you and you love him. He is everything you want right now. Right. Now. You write a quick note for Asher before leaving.

3:29 AM / Friday

You knock on the door, waiting for a response. After a few minutes, you knock again, harder. The door opens and you're in front of him. You're frozen.

"Aleks..."

This time, he launches himself at you. He wraps his arms around you and spins you around and holds you tightly. He runs his hands through your hair and kisses your forehead.

"Aleks. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I literally could not get you out of my head. I thought you not calling would help, but it made it worse. I thought spending one more night with you would fix it, but it made it really worse. I missed you so much, Aleks. I missed you fucking around and being dumb and so imperfect. I missed you so much. I love you, Aleks."

He holds the sides of your face and kisses you. Your eyes close as you just take in everything.

He takes you to his bed, laying you down, just like before, but it's different. You wrap yourself around him again, squeezing him tight. "I love you so much, (y/n)."

You fall asleep as soon as you close your eyes, sleeping the best you have in months.

#aleks x reader #aleks marchant x reader #ragehappy #aleks marchant imagine #toriwritesshit

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fictional-scenarios · 7 years

Note

Hiya could I get a stardew valley match up? (preferably a bachelor) I’m a shy girl but I can make small talk. I’m quiet in group situations but I talk more when I’m alone w someone. I’m very soft spoken & I get questions like “r u mute?” or “u can talk?” Ppl find me mysterious and secretive. I don’t rly open up unless ppl ask me questions. I’m affectionate & I love affection. I like cuddles, hugs and kisses but I never admit it. I'm lazy so my man has to be fine w skype dates. memes4days (1/3)

I like listening to other ppl’s problems and giving advice. I flirt w friends for fun. I have a talent for making up pick up lines in seconds. Ppl say I’m brave as I stand up for myself and my friends. I’m pretty forgetful. I’m not an insecure person. I blush A LOT. Ppl say I look innocent but once I say something perverted or a curse word their reaction is priceless. I love playing video games. I also like watching other people play games. I stay up watching gaming tournaments. (2/3)

I’m pretty competitive when it comes to video & board games. In multiplayer games I go for healing roles. I have no experience in the romance department. I’ve never had a bf and the most I’ve done is hug a guy & get kabedonned. I’m very shy and blushy around guys. I’m a lil slow in the head but grade wise I get A’s. I like rock, heavy metal, ost’s, kpop & kdrama. I also like anime. I can get into random hobbies for a short amt of time. Eg. sewing or making videos. Thanks in advance

thanks so much for all the details! i hope you like your matchup! also i think this is the first stardew valley request on this blog, so thanks a bunch for that too!

I pair you with Sam!

At first, odds are that Sam may have overlooked you pretty much… Everyday. Your first encounter is likely brought on through Sebastian or Abigail, who happened to invite you to stick with them during a festival or event. He’d ask them who you were and would be pretty shocked to find out that you’ve lived in Pelican town for a while now. He’d feel bad and likely apologize, bluntly stating that he’s never seen you before, and in turn would become interested in your ‘mysterious’ nature.

From that point on Sam sort of starts to see you everywhere. He sees you out for walks, relaxing at the beach, fishing down on the docks, or just running errands for any of the townspeople. He rarely goes wandering around town but he may just start if it means he has a chance of seeing you.

He tends to ‘accidentally’ run into you while you’re out and about, exclaiming that he’s surprised to see you even though he’d been looking forward to just waving hello to you all morning. It’s strange- despite his loud and outgoing nature he’s a pretty bashful guy. He’s also blunt and naturally says the first thing that pops into his head, but for you he tries to work ways around directly asking you to hang out or talk. He’ll put requests on the board hoping you’ll come to see him (even if he has to pay), or he’ll try and find things out about you through Sebastian.

Not being much of a talker isn’t a huge deal to him at all. Plus, if we’re being honest, he’s a bit experienced in the ‘getting to know the silent kid’ department. After all, his closest friend is Sebastian and he’s the most reclusive guy in the entire town. Through the years of hanging out with distant people he’s learned which questions to ask, which to avoid, and the easiest way to get someone to open up to him. He’ll ask you about your family life and what your hobbies are, just basic things that he slowly ends up getting really into hearing about. After a while he may start to get a bit more personal, his questions turning into things such as what you’d like to do with your life when you’re older, or maybe what type of family like you’d like to create.

The two of you would most likely start talking more in depth and more consistently through skype and maybe during chat rooms while playing videogames together. The two of you chat back and forth late into the night, having fun and messing around. Sometimes these calls can get a bit personal depending on where you go with your conversations, and eventually he’d open up to you as well. Sam’s easy to comfort, and while his concerns (such as his father being away) aren’t easily solved, you can cheer him up quickly. Eventually when he feels like you’ve grown comfortable together, he’d invite you to join him on his friday Stardrop Saloon game nights.

Sam’s big on affection. There’s nothing he loves more than keeping an arm around you or holding you close to him while strolling through town (something he finds himself doing much more often than before). He partly loves PDA because of pride reasons but it’s also because he just… Really adores the feeling of mutual love. When you’re alone, however, much of his affection is a lot more genuine and personal. He’ll give you kisses on the top of your head, run his thumbs over your knuckles, or he’ll let you rest your head on his chest while he keeps an arm wrapped around you tight. You wouldn’t think that someone who’s an avid ‘prankster’ and spends most of his time playing guitar would being so naturally affectionate, but he is.

Speaking of guitars, he loves to play you songs. He’ll make all sorts of them, the lyrics ranging from silly to very loving. He’ll sing these songs for you while strumming away and while they’re short, they’re usually very heartfelt. At first he was a bit shy at playing for you, instead just opting to giving you notes with his lyrics on it, but eventually he came to have no issue singing just how much you mean to him.

When he’s so used to you being soft spoken and on the more shyer side, when you do say something lewd, curse, or give a sudden well thought out pickup line he’s one of the people who will have a priceless reaction. He’ll stare at you in awe and think to himself, did you really just do that? You, his blushy, adorable, innocent partner just say that? Another thing that leaves him rather speechless is when you demonstrate your courage, standing up for either him, yourself, or one of your friends. Seeing you being so assertive and giving some asshole what for really turns the tables in his head and leaves him shook as well. He’s got heart eyes for days.

A lot of your dates are mostly spent behind doors either at his house or at yours. They’re casual and calming, never too fancy unless one of you goes out of your way for a ‘treat yourself’ evening. Sam’s favorite date with you out of them all is (as lame as it is) ordering some nice take out and then spending the evening either watching a show, movie, or playing video games. When you’re both on the same team you’re virtually unstoppable. He also really loves the nights where you join him on playing Solorian Chronicles with Sebastian, since god knows they both need a healer.

Sam thinks it’s great when you pick up new, nice hobbies! He’ll encourage you, listen to whatever you have to say about it and whatever you’re passionate about. Seeing you light up about things really makes his whole day, and sometimes he even gives learning the hobby a shot. He’s generally terrible at crafts, though. If you ever make him something like a scarf, a drawing, or something else, he’ll keep it forever because it has so much sentimental value to him. Over the years he keeps a shoebox full of things that mean a lot to him, and most of it consists of things you’ve made for him. Sometimes he likes to go through his box and think back to all the fun you two had while also imagining everything you both have yet to do together.

#stardew valley #sdv #sam stardew valley #matchup #request #mod cassie

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mariposalass · 5 years

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Cafe AU Main Post (The Cozy Place Cafe)

Okay, this is probably a big silly long post of nonsense, but I’m really serious about making this Cafe/Coffee Shop AU a thing big time. Having been to my fair share of hanging out in Starbucks, Coffee Bean, and smaller cafes (including my time in college), I can safely say that I would love to imagine an AU where me and many of the fam bunch run a cafe in the awkward love child of FRIENDS, The Office, and Parks and Recreation.

So if you don’t mind the madness that will ensue here, then click and read this thing:

So, Mari’s family runs this cozy cafe for quite a long time in the heart of (insert name of whatever city in the godforsaken world). Harry and Kairi are obviously still adopted into the family, at just ages 9 and 5 respectively here. The cafe’s name is The Cozy Place, lame name based off the Good Place TV show (might change it someday).

The Space Grumps himself, 12th Doc, is the main manager of the joint; sure, he’s a grumpy old Scottish fart who always feels that he’s surrounded by idiots (customers and employees alike whenever they give him a hard time), but he’s quite a lovable goofball once you get to know him more. Loves to listening to rock music (although he wouldn’t let you in on it), wears shades occasionally, awful in being not socially awkward, carries a fob watch at all times, and doesn’t do hugs. He’s basically the kids’ mentor to teach them the ropes and one of the oldest members in the staff.

Kirby is a loyal new employee in charge of cooking food along with Michiru & Ron and taking orders in the afternoon shift, but since he’s new to the job and a little baby, he’s pretty slow on doing his assigned task. And he has a tendency to occasionally eat what food he makes, still, he’ll try to resist the temptation for the most part and is always happy to see customers new and old.

Michiru and Ron handle much of the food preparations like pastries (with the head baker Jacob Kowalski), salads, sandwiches, pastas, soups, and more. Michiru is the Lesbian Team Mom who is kind, friendly, and always there to talk to, though she can be sneaky in speculating the everyday madness within the team, holds shipping guessing games during off hours, and she can handle such madness so much before she could snap back in sharp anger. Her girlfriend Haruka, their friend Setsuna, their foster daughter Hotaru, and the Inner Senshi are regulars to the cafe; sometimes Michiru would give the Outer Senshi something to eat for the day ahead before the next shift starts. Meanwhile, Ron is the witty sarcastic joker who never fails to multitasking the stuff he’s given, although he does have insecurity issues being mostly underappreciated by his own family and he does have concerns over his siblings being more off-kilter than he is (mostly with his older twin brothers Fred and George). It got a little worse when his sister Ginny tried to flirt with Harry and Ron had to reprimand her in front of the public out of concern; since the incident, she has moved from trying to get Harry’s attention to dating an unknown person instead.

Hermione is the dutiful by the books barista who wouldn’t dare to break the rules in everyday life and in work but does do it anyway in mild amounts. One of the well-read of the staff (outside Mari, Philip, the Doctor, and Michiru), has an adorable awkward relationship with Ron, manager of the library in the cafe, and knows nearly all drink recipes by heart and mind.

Harry is the kitchen manager of the cafe: responsible for checking & ordering ingredient supplies and running the kitchen, Team Dad, knows how the business works, normally chill guy to talk to, but man this guy has a temper! He’ll crush you with brutal honesty if you’re being a jerk. Has a crush on Issa (who’s a regular frequenting the place as a journalist working nearby, to which he responds through shy blushing and ducking under the register), best (overprotective) brother to Mari and Kairi, and bad customers & employees’ worst nightmare. Harry never lets them to get away with it and will make bad customers to leave and bad employees to do kitchen chores as a punishment should they get out of line.

Kairi is the resident latte art maker: people never forget the creative doodles she makes on their drinks (thanks to her art degree) & her calligraphy-like way of writing their names in the cups, up and about in fulfilling orders, and always there to give you a smile. Dates Sora the barista, and can be too much of a chatterbox at times.

Sora and Riku also work as baristas: Sora is the adorkable excitable bean and Riku is the calm & collected dude. The kids’ childhood friends, and since Sora & Kairi are dating, Riku will tease the two out of fun and Mari & Harry often join him as well for the same reasons. Sora finds it really awkward to deal with that they’re working altogether under one roof, although Kairi doesn’t seem to mind it in ever.

Marina may only work in the cafe part-time on weekends and holidays and being mute can be an obstacle for her when it comes to getting orders, but she’s a dedicated employee willing to help out, has a patience of a saint, and is quick in taking orders on paper like a soldier at war, although her usual self-sacrificing habit can be taxing on her mental health and it does worry Mari, the cafe staff, and her adopted folks a couple of times. It doesn’t even help that Ventus also works as a part-time employee in the cafe too, which leads to tons of adorable crush moments between the two as they help out the business. Mari’s family wants to make sure that the cafe is safe for everyone to come over and to work in regardless of religion, race, sexuality, disabilities, etc., and especially with Mari being autistic and Harry being a survivor of child abuse. The cafe taking in Marina and a few others further strengthens this belief even more and they are hoping to find and train more employees with disabilities in the near future, as well as treating them right as they do with Marina.

Mari is the assistant manager to the Doctor and the actual heiress to the business, but she’s basically the heart of the group: ensuring that the whole place doesn’t burn and running efficiently as heck. Will mince you with harsh brutally honest words if you dare to cross her, the customers, her family and friends, and everyone else. Quite smart for her age, though her Asperger-induced social awkwardness can be a weak point and it frustrates her a lot.

Philip is another new hire to the cafe and is low key having a noticeable crush on Mari, but he couldn’t spill it out. He and Mari don’t usually see each other often due to him working in a different shift, but there are multiple times when the cafe is understaffed and needs more back up during the more intense rush hours, and he is assigned to the same shift as Mari’s schedule: that’s when sparks do fly between them and it gets adorable and awkward at the same time. Their mutual friend, Theodosia Burr, is a regular taking up Law and she highly suspects that Philip is hiding his feelings towards Mari, hence her constant nagging on him to go on a date with Mari (which is not happening, yet).

Issa, as said above in Harry’s section, is a rising star journalist whose work place is near to the cafe, and that fact is helpful for her whenever she needs to get something to eat or get her coffee fix. Her frequent visits has become more awkward on Harry’s part as he began to develop romantic feelings for her as she does, but he’s such as nervous wreck that he would duck and hide whenever he sees her face to face for longer than he wanted to. Ahk’s her co-worker in the news agency in this AU: not too crazy for coffee but enjoys the ambiance of the place and does like other food & drink offerings as well.

As for everyone else? They’re all cafe regulars, the same applies to nearly all the self shippers and other f/os I know of. Sure, some of them can be rowdy at times, but they’re not that terrible compared to the ruder customers the cafe rarely gets. It’s because the cafe won’t tolerate any crap from the nasty customers and they simply avoided the cafe anyway.

#coffee shop and cafe au #coffee shops and cafes #aus #au #self shipping #self ship #self insert #my f/os #familial f/os #platonic f/os #romantic f/o

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lonesandkorn · 7 years

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Rejection

We always want to believe that we are the hero in our own tales. And often enough, we are. But not every tale has a happy ending, and not everybody gets to be the hero. This is a “what if” mini-fic.

It has been almost a year since Saeran has been released from the hospital and you found that after everything, you two just clicked.

You loved hanging out with all the RFA members, you loved them because they were your family. But Saeran was different.

You noticed it for the first time when you two basically had to spend some time together alone since all the others cancelled on short notice.

It was awkward at first, but after some time, you felt that you could talk about things with him, you couldn’t talk about with anybody else.

He wasn’t outstanding in giving advice since there were too many things he yet had to figure out, himself. But he always listened, and in his own way, he knew how to comfort you like no other person ever could.

When he smiled at you, it was like the buzzing sounds in this world would suddenly quiet down, finally letting you focus on the things that were actually important.

You were like magnets, always sticking together from there on.

Even the others noticed that and started playfully teasing you about being in love with each other. It was funny at first because you didn’t even consider being more than friends with him. But then, on one evening where the two of you were listening to his favourite music and talked about his past, you felt it.

The sun was going down, and the golden rays danced on his face as he spoke. He recently started to stop wearing his contacts, and as soon as the reddish-gold and his own amber eyes met, they formed their own kind of magic. You couldn’t look away. He was mesmerising, hauntingly beautiful.

It was the first time you actually touched each other. It was brief and only sporadic, a show of amicable affection towards him, but the whirlwind that started to form inside your pit was so evident, so right, that you knew what you really felt for him.

Since then, your whole world changed.

Have his arms always been so slender? His smile always been so intriguing? His chest always been so inviting? His lips always been so lush?

You wonder.

If you were to tell him about your feelings, would he still smile at you? Would he tell you that he felt the same?

You don’t dare to ask, too self-aware of your own looks, your own character… so time only passes by without things changing between you two.

It has almost been a year for you to be stuck in this void. You treasured this friendship, but also found yourself growing more and more greedy.

You started touching him whenever it was possible, and he let you, even though you knew just how much he detested being touched by other people. But if it was you, it was okay.

And the little beast inside yourself starts to hope.

Because maybe he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him. Because maybe, he was just as shy as you, both hoping for the other one to make the first step.

You open the door of his car and get into the passenger seat.

“Hey princess, looking fly today.” He gifts you with a warm smile. This smile would be the end of you. You reach out and quickly caress his cheeks before properly greeting him.

“Why thank you, you don’t look too bad, yourself.” He smirks and starts the engine. There is music playing on the radio, but you hear nothing but your beating heart. Today would be the da where you finally revealed your feelings to him.

You had been so nervous that you didn’t sleep last night, always trying to imagine every possible scenario of today.

You made extra sure you paid attention to your looks. You used the vanilla scented shampoo and straightened your hair. You’ve put on some light makeup and highlighted your lips – geez, you even put on the dress that bought for your birthday last year. It all had to be perfect.

The drive felt like hours, and you were too nervous to do some proper small talk. Saeran eventually asked what was going on with you.

It scares you, it’s too early. You didn’t plan on confessing right now and right here.

“I um… I’m just tired.” You manage to say.

Saeran looks at you funny. Then he drives to the side of the road and stops the car. “Okay then, let’s take a quick nap together. I’m rather drowsy, myself.”

He already started to lower the seat and patted on his chest. Did he – did he want you to lay you head on his chest?

You follow his invitation.

Your ear is right over his heart, beating in a rhythm that is both soothing and encouraging.

The beast inside your soul was sensing a change of fortune in the air. Maybe, just maybe…

You pull up your chin and look at him. His eyes were closed, but as soon as he noticed you looking at him, he started to smile.

“See something interesting?”

It’s now or never.

“What if said ‘yes’?” Now he is looking at you with wide eyes full of surprise.

The surprise is good, right?

“What if I said that what I see right now is more than interesting to me? What if this is the most exciting thing in the world to me?”

His expression is unreadable. Processing your words. Something is growing in your stomach, like a massive cluster of lead that is starting to sink in.

Your body acts before you can think the better out of this.

The kiss feels odd. His lips are cold, and his body is pressed against his seat. He doesn’t brush you off, however.

You know it, then. You know it before you comprehend it. He doesn’t love you.

You dash back into your own seat, covering your face and fighting down the little sobs that almost escaped your lips. You were so pathetic. How could you ever think you had a chance?

Saeran remains frozen in his position.

“What- what just happened?”

Yes, what indeed.

For a second, you think about taking it back. But as soon as you want to speak, you just can’t. How could you take back your feelings for him?

“I kissed you because I thought our feelings were mutual.” You hear the echo of your voice and don’t recognise the sound of it.

“I love you. Not as a brother but as a man. I – I thought that you might…. That you might love me, too.”

You feel so stupid and naïve, now that you’ve said it out loud.

He didn’t say a word after that. Not even after you insisted that he should drive you home. He just sat there in his stupid seat, behind this stupid wheel in this green car, mute as a fish, while you are left alone with the knowledge that you just ruined your friendship.

When you finally arrived at your apartment complex, the sun was going down again. But this time, it felt like it wanted to mock you with how ridiculously beautiful he looked in it.

“I’m sorry.”

It is so quiet that you’re not sure whether you actually heard the words or if it all was just inside your head.

His hands are clenched against the smooth leather surface of his seat.

“I didn’t know you felt this way. If I had known…. I will never be able to give you what you want. Whatever I can offer you, it will never be what you truly want from me. Sorry.”

It was a goodbye.

Your breath is shaky, and you try to remember every part of him, burning this image into your brain.

Then you close the door of the car and run into the building, not daring to ever look back.

#Mystic messenger #Mysme #angst #writing #spilled ink #short story #rejection #friendship #unknown saeran choi #Saeran choi x Reader #Saeran Choi x You #Mysme fandom #Mysme fanfiction

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queenofthewaste · 5 years

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Hi it's 3am (by the time I finished this it was in fact closer to 5am) and I'm so tired and I don't care anymore and this is literally my blog so if I can't be emo here then where? (A diary, I suppose, but shutup)

To preface this, mutuals, whatevs you've seen me go through fandom after fandom and then become a pseudo aesthetic blog so you can handle me angsting a bit. IRLs on the other hand, if you read this I would appreciate you not ever acknowledging this in anyway shape of form bc like. Emotional vulnerability bad (ง'̀-'́)ง

Up until a few months ago I was in a relationship with someone who I cared about very deeply. The relationship itself was not perfect but I was pretty happy, and best I can tell, so was she. Ultimately we broke up because of the fact that she felt she couldn't come out to her family. This wasn't fun for me or anything but its something I was aware of as a possible end so y'know. Whatever.

Unfortunately this break up wasn't even remotely clean. She continued to talk to me, not seeming to get my requests for space and eventually we went back to cuddling and other forms of emotional intimacy that are far oustide of my platonic wheelhouse. At this situation's worst she made some pretty specifically romantic moves towards me, which I would call almost actively callous. Eventually after a few months of going back and forth on whether or not we were talking we (I) actually were firm about it. This was on Halloween, and the following week or so was basically "great" insofar as I didn't have to think about her.

Unfortunately the next week it was my birthday and she turned up on my doorstep after my party upset I had invited some mutual friends, and I helped her with her emotional distress and then walked her home. Then I had no contact. For about a month.

A month later she messaged me on Twitter. Then a week later she turned up somewhere she knew I was going to be (this is somewhat debatable but ultimately I still felt stalked and in a weird way kind of betrayed).

Then nothing until Christmas day when I received an anonymous "I miss you" on this tumblr. Not provable as her like who else misses me lol? (All the creepy men who I keep rejecting but I don't they have my tumblr). Then on NYE she messaged my housemate about me. Then a few days later she does the same.

Ultimately my feeling about all of this are;

I’m sad about the circumstance of the break up. It feels like a waste of something good, but I could probably deal with it better if either of us seemed even remotely happy since it.

I think it’s fucking heartbreaking that someone I cared so deeply for would so quickly become someone I desperately wanted to avoid, the extent to which I want to avoid her is actively depressing in and of itself

She’s clearly not been doing okay since we broke up (or for a while before we broke up but she’s been more noticeably dysfunctional since we broke up) and it’s so frustrating to watch her feel alienated from her friends (and to an extent have actually alienated her friends) and to engage in self destructive behaviours etc, and have no room, or even right to do anything.

As an addition to the previous point, I am usually cold to a fault, so I hate how I have been unable to switch off here. I hate that I still care about her the way I do when everything she has done in the past four months has had an active detrimental affect on me.

This is probably the least “valid” feeling to have about the dissolution of the relationship, and I actively consider this to be deeply petty but here we are - I think it’s unfair that she is telling my housemate that she misses me. I think its unfair that she was the one to do romantic things during the messy period post break up. I think it’s unfair that she made a choice and now seems to want to have the sympathy of the person who was “left” or “dumped” or whatever. Fuck you that’s not fair. I haven’t made my feelings about this known. I didn’t message her fucking housemate to tell him I miss her. Of course I fucking miss her but I’m also not a fucking douchebag.

I also feel betrayed by how willing she was to hurt me and mess me around post-break up. She told her friends things she had promised she wouldn’t and generally handled things shittily. Honestly I just want to know why? I didn’t do anything fucking wrong. We didn’t break up even due to shitty behaviour what the fuck did I do to deserve all of this

I still want to talk to her. I sort of feel like there’s nothing left to say anymore, but I do

Running concurrently to this is the fact that last year I was voted in to be the president of the Comic Book Society (club) at my university. At the time I was pleased and looked forward to it. One of the people who would be running it with me was a guy I was good friends with. Then he (probably) sexually assaulted me, and (definitely) became super creepy about his feelings for me. I low key told him to fuck off and didn't speak to him for the summer. During which time he got therapy and seemed to improve, and because I didn't want to have to do paperwork I figured I would let him stick around. Of course then he continued to be creepy so I had to tell him to fuck off properly.

The break up I had just gone through, and the fact I had to fire 1/3 of my exec did not make running the society easy, but ultimately neither of those things were the actual problem.

The problem instead was that my members just. Wouldn't talk. No matter what. I did everything I could. I know I'm often somewhat intimidating but I also know I'm reasonably funny and decent at conversation in general. But over three months these people remained mute and it was infuriating. They wanted a weekly lecture about comics and I'm just not doing that. So I've allowed the society to fold.

Ultimately about this I guess I feel

Sort of betrayed by the guy who was into me, obviously I suppose I shouldn’t have forgiven him after the (possible) sexual abuse, but I was tired and thought maybe it would be fine. But ultimately he was a guy who claimed to care about me/ know me well, and everything he did belied the opposite which is such a fundamental kind of gross that it’s sort of upsetting.

About my society failing? I take on the responsibility personally, even though every piece of evidence suggests there wasn’t much I could really have done to increase turnout, bar become more general interest (Like talk about the movies more) which ultimately defeats the point of the fucking society so. No. Basically, lol, I feel like a total failure for failing to run a society that was clearly doomed to failure from the beginning

ALSO I’m twenty one. Due to issues with my mental and physical health during my A levels I had to spend an additional year in college. I then failed to get the grades I wanted to go the uni I really wanted to go to. As a result of this I came to uni and was a bit “behind” where I wanted to be in life. Then, naturally, of course, I managed to fail a module of my course, meaning I had to resit the whole year. Making me a Twenty One year old First Year. I haven’t told any of my friends about this, meaning I’m consistently lying a bit about what I’m doing. (I did tell my now ex, and am sort of paranoid she may have told someone but whatever) Oh also one of my housemates is resitting his first year, which arguably makes my extended deception worse, because it’s not helped with his self perception. Oh also multiples of my friends are getting engaged now

I guess the way I feel about this mess of shit is

Failurex1000

I feel extremely “behind” some idea of where I feel I should be in my life, which is ridiculous because I’ve never had a clear picture of where I want to be and when, so there’s no plan to be behind on

Failure Failure Failure

I feel somewhat guilty about not informing said housemate bc he’s insecure about resitting, and also insecure about me being arbitrarily “better” than him, but also I have a crippling fear of being seen as weak or stupid and he’s not my fucking responsibility.

Again, the friends all getting engaged thing makes me feel weirdly lagging so. yay

ALSO I live with three boys currently. I say “boys” because despite their status as legal adults, the juvenile term is really more appropriate. One of whom has had a crush on me for a relatively extended period of time now. He claims to be over me, but his behaviours consistently belie that he is not. Another is just generally a bit immature, and screeches down his headset playing shit video games in the middle of the night (this is in fact why I am currently up and writing this) The third is technically fine but he contributes to the general mess and skid marks on the toilet with the seat always fucking up and the hair all over the fucking bathroom dear fucking god

Summing up this one too;

I have already decided to live alone next year, and have made the arrangements to do so, Though this means I will basically be broke re: disposable money

If I ever see another fucking toilet seat up I’m going to scream

I nearly stabbed my housemate today for waking me up. And now five hours later nearly I have been unable to get any sleep.

Alot of my complaints about my housemates highlight two specific things for me

My upbringing required me to be more independent from a younger age. I’m grateful for the relative competence this has provided me earlier on, but also I think I’m becoming resentful, or jealous, of these people who got to be children until even now? I cannot imagine being 19 and behaving the way these boys do (or twenty one and behaving the way my ex does) and I can’t help but wonder about the kind of coddling they must have had relative to my life.

I need my own space. I have had little control of my life and living arrangements for quite some time now (even having spent three months or so technically homeless last summer) and this is potentially my only opportunity to get that so

Finally, Alot of how I’ve reacted to stuff the past few months has made me feel concerned about my mental health? Several years ago I went to a psychologist for an extended period of time (I was forced to lol) and toward the end of the time I was seeing her she mentioned cluster B personality disorders to me. Obviously being a sixteen year old who thought she was fine this made me balk, I started lying to seem neurotypical or whatever the word is now, and then eventually managed to get out of having to go, but now I think there was probably some stock in what she was talking about and am now going to try and pursue this, so I get to dally with the NHS’ adult mental health services.

Summing up

I don’t actually want a diagnosis and on some level think I’m fine but also line up with the DSM of two of the cluster B’s relatively well and am clearly not doing well so my belief that I’m fine is unhelpful

In the end, it is clearly my pride that’s gong to lead to my death.

Thanks for reading, anonymous internet person or person I know irl stalking my blog/ignoring my request for this to be ignored if you know me irl :I

#delete later #personal #don't rb #like i don't know if that had to be said but y'know #tbh i'm almost more confortable talking in the tags but that seems unhelpful #i just think ive been hurt so much and i cant take much more anymore im sorry #like ive been snappier and less patient but im so alone jesus christ i dont let anyone in #everytime i let people in it like #doesn't go well #at all

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eldritchsurveys · 5 years

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263.

Do you have a facial expression you seem to pull a lot? What is it? >> I don’t know, really. I keep trying to explain to people, what my face does is not connected to my conscious mind. And even when I’m trying to convey a specific thing with my face, I don’t always succeed (how can I? I don’t look in a mirror every time I do it). That might be a Neurodivergent Person Problem, I don’t know, no one else seems to have the same issues.

Do you always listen to music when you’re online? If so, what are you currently listening to? >> I don’t always and I’m not right now. I have various Hozier songs playing in my head, though. When you can’t sleep, what do you do? >> Do something else until I can. Did you like the last book you read? What was it about? >> The last book I finished was F*ck Feelings, which is basically just another Practical Life Advice From A Shrink kind of book. But it did say a lot of things that I needed to hear, so I guess I found it at the right time in my life. Also, that’s definitely my kind of title. Fuck feelings, amirite? Except like... orgasms. Those are good. Do you prefer things (Movies, books, etc) that scare you or make you laugh? >> I actually like both, because both horror and comedy are difficult to do in general, and difficult to do in a way that keeps me interested especially.

Have you ever rubbed your eyes so much you couldn’t see for a while? >> No, but I do rub my eyes a lot. Do you like people more or less when they have similar tastes to you? Why? >> Liking someone less for liking the same things I do is a bit... counterproductive, innit? I immediately want to have conversations with people who like the same things I do, because I want to talk about those things! And make friends! Or at least fandom buddies or tumblr mutuals or something, sheesh. Do you ever forget how to do really simple things? Like what? >> Yeah, all the time. Like how to make simple food products. What would you change about your current physical appearance if you could? >> I keep thinking I want to be skinnier again. But considering I’m not, like, obese or anything and I’ve never had much of an obsession regarding weight, I think that’s actually two things at play: [lack-of-]gender-based dysphoria and knee-jerk fear of change. I weigh more than I ever have because I... spent most of my adult years malnourished and in a high-stress environment. And because of the demon called weight distribution, I feel like that exaggerates parts of my body that I don’t want people paying attention to -- parts that are socially recognised as feminine. Losing weight seems like the way to both look like the Androgynous Alien I actually want to appear to be, and get back a body that is more familiar to me because I lived in it for 10 years before now. Were you born with naturally straight teeth? >> I wasn’t born with any teeth, to be fair. Do you pull faces at yourself when you look in the mirror? >> Sometimes, yeah. It’s fun and prevents me from taking the reflection too seriously. Do you try not to take a lot of medicine or do you take it whenever? >> I don’t... really think about this too much. I don’t take a lot of medication to begin with, so I don’t have to think about it. Do you prefer acoustic or studio versions of songs? >> Depends on the song, I guess. Do you quote movies often? Any ones in particular? >> No, because I can never remember movie quotes. >:| If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called? >> I can’t imagine being any gender in the first place. Do you like the sound of your computer’s keyboard typing? >> No, I don’t like the sound of keyboards period. If you had to make a superhero secret base somewhere, where would it go? >> Meh. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? >> Sour. What about chocolate or peanut M&M’s? >> Peanut. Your favourite band: Do you prefer their old or new stuff? >> --- Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? >> Yeah. What pattern was on the last pair of socks you wore? >> No pattern. Would you rather have a big house or a big garden? >> Big garden, definitely. Although the maintenance would probably be hell, but a big house is also maintenance hell, and for no ass reason. Are fireworks illegal to buy where you live? >> I think you can only buy them at certain times of year, so they’re... mostly legal. When was the last time you felt dizzy? >> I don’t remember. Do you have a crush on anyone who’s unattainable? Why are they? >> No. Can you talk and work at the same time? >> No. Do you care more about yourself or more about others? >> Myself. Do you find it easy to pass the time or do you get really bored? >> I don’t get bored, I get restless, which is what happens when one has too many options for things to do. I’ve never had that problem before now (meaning “these past few years”), and it’s a doozy. Do you like going to museums? Any particular type? >> Sometimes. Not art museums, but natural-history museums are kind of cool when I have the energy for them. Oh, and science/technology museums! Those are always fun because they have interactive exhibits and I’m not just walking around staring silently at shit. Are you ever scared of people reading your survey answers? >> No. What time do you usually go to bed at on weekends? >> Ten, like any other day. Does any part of you itch right now? >> Yeah. I’ve had this low-grade body itch for about a week now, for some reason. Maybe the weather change. IDK. How often do you re-watch / re-read things or are you more ‘once only’? >> Eh, after a few years or so, once I’ve forgotten the good bits. What time is it right now? >> 2.06p EST. Should you be doing something else instead of this? What? >> No. What colour are your eyes? Do you like them? >> Dark brown. Sure. What colour ink do you prefer writing in? >> Black. Or metallic! What is your favourite kind of take-away to order? >> Indian is pretty good. What is your favourite joke? >> --- When was the last time you met someone who shared your first name? >> My name’s technically still Logan, and it’s really not hard to meet another one. But I doubt I’ll ever have that problem with Mordred. Have you inherited any garments from your parents or grandparents? >> No. When was the last time you took a picture? What was it of? >> I don’t remember. Do you ever watch movies with the subtitles on just for fun? >> I watch movies with the subtitles on because it helps my auditory processing and my hearing in general (particularly with the way they make movies these days, with the music and action noises up to 11 and the dialogue damn-near on fucking mute). Do you tend to call people by their birth name or a nickname? >> I call them what they ask to be called. When was the last time you visited the doctor? Why did you go? >> I don’t remember. Do you ever wear shoes even though they hurt your feet? >> No.

#survey #surveys #random survey

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188936203-blog · 7 years

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I want to start off from the beginning, when this all started. When Eumae was in a bad mood and initially yelled at Nezumi for flirting. At this point, Nezumi wasn't having her attitude, mostly because it felt like she was putting all the blame on his shoulders-- Tem was responding to the flirting and giving signals to encourage him, and it felt like she was treating Nezumi as if he were putting himself somewhere he wasn't welcome. So he acted bratty-- which I apologized for afterwards, but at the time Nezumi didn't care and I kind of didn't either?

I don't remember what happened right before she blocked me, but nothing that important. Life went on. I started talking to you about things as well as Bo's mun, and Mars' mun. I found out she lied about our muses being sexually involved and just to what extent she went to make Bo believe that our muses weren't doing anything (I'm still disgusted by this honestly). I think what she was doing to Bo alone, was enough for me to be so fucking tired of her. And I was really done for a while. I mean, really and truly done. Ready to give her up. Which is weird for me because it's hard for me to give anyone up. But I hated what I saw?

Then, Eumae mentioned Nezumi on twitter and complained about being replaced, which pissed the shit out of me. Because this happened after she saw Tem and Nezumi talking, and then proceeded to message me on her male muse to say she didn't want anything to do with me. It hurt but I remember steeling myself and being strong because I had you guys at my back. I had all the things she lied about and did to others to make me feel like I could get over the pain of losing such a long time friend. When she mentioned Nezumi on twitter, and complained about being replaced, I went the fuck off because she was the one who told me she wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

I was tired of posting things on my twitter so I went to her directly on AIM-- and I screenshotted the entire thing (except for all the screenshots I sent her as well as her screenshots of apologies to others) in case you wanted to see. I went to her and explained to her why I was done and unhappy with her. I explained to her that I didn't feel like I even knew who she was anymore, that I felt lied to, that I was beyond devastated knowing I had STOOD UP FOR HER on so many occasions when I've had so many people say things about her. I may be bluring conversations a little bit but I do remember telling her I was hurt about this at some point. She kept going on defending herself and even went so far as to tell me she missed me me and regretted what she said (to me and to you about me), and I was really fucking angry about this honestly. I wasn't fucking having this conversation with her, I was beyond done at this point. In fact at a certain point I was so done that I muted her conversation and let her talk herself out, and I almost didn't even look or respond again.

But I looked. I didn't read it very much though because I was done at that point and responded to a very small point. She kept going, she kept trying to explain, she showed me her apologies to others so that I could have insight on how things were from her end. And then she gave me this bullshit about not knowing how to apologize to me. My response to her shitty half assed apology was this: "I don't really know how I feel about stuff. Do I wanna lsoe you? No. But I'm not sure where we go frm here... if things would even feel okay."

She didn't answer for a couple days, and I really wanted to wrap up the conversation more than anything. I saw her posting and all over my muse's friends' dicks so I posted asking for someone to tell her to message me. That's what you saw that day. I wanted to finish up this conversation. I basically reiterated what I said. I don't have the conversation anymore because I actually unfollowed them and deleted the conversation today (I'm beating myself up for this right now) but when we first started talking, I really just told them I couldn't fully trust them, but I didn't want to lose my friend.

And here's the thing about this. Anyone who has known me for any amount of time, knows that I care way too much about the people in my life. Once I care about you that's kind of it. It takes a whole hell of a lot to make me stop caring. Letting go? Fuckin' forget about it. You could ask Natalia, I could have her tell you. I could ask any of my old rp friends that I no longer speak to. The one thing I hate doing is letting go, saying goodbye, giving up on anyone. I've being doing this shit for ten years now, and I've seen a lot of shitty things. Shittier things than you can imagine, worse than anything Natalia has done, worse than all the things I've heard people accuse Lars of doing. I've honestly sat on the bathroom floor multiple times contemplating my own suicide, and this time last year was probably the closest I've ever gotten to really doing it. If it had happened just an hour or two earlier, the whole ordeal? I think I would honestly be dead right now.

I've gone through so much pain and heartache, but the thing is I'll keep taking it until I break. Nat, for instance, the mun who was behind the first muse I ever shipped with in KRP. I had a Taehyung, my favorite muse of all time here. And I felt a connection between our muses and let them date. That was the biggest mistake I ever made. I lost internet for nearly a month, but would wake up early in the mornings to go to work just to talk to her (she lived in Australia). On their one month Jimin thought Tae forgot about the date over a miscommunication and then they shut themselves off. They stopped trying. They ran to our mutual best friend. Jimin was in the arms of Jungkook instead for a whole month, not bothering to say anything. I had to get tired of how Nat was treating me and my muse and finally broke it off. I found out Jimin was falling for Jungkook and that's why he stopped giving a shit about Tae. Three days later they were already together. For the first month Jimin put up with Tae being heartbroken, but when it didn't subside he got angry. When Tae couldn't just get back up and be happy and lighthearted he would fight with Tae. Nat would yell at me. She would be pissed that I was still hurt by how she so completely betrayed me. Tae was alone, so he told Tae to make friends. Tae made friends. Then Jimin got fucking jealous of his new friends and thought they got too much of his attention, when Tae never left him on read. They fought so many times. Jimin stopped being friends with Tae because Tae liked the person Jimin almost left Jungkook for, and found out he was lying about things to Jungkook. And Nat pushed me out.

I'm telling you this quick summary (that leaves out a lot of the details tbh) because Nat put me through so many horrible things. I spent so many nights crying over her, dealing with her muse being moody and unhappy with anything my muse did to try and be happy after being betrayed by his two best friends. I got dragged endlessly for two years over and over again. But you know what? I always came back. I always forgave them. I always took the blame for everything. I wanted Nat to stay because she was my friend at one point and even behind all the nasty things she did to me I loved her. I can't evne write this wihtout crying because Nat and Jay and Babytan were the first group of friends I had here. They were everything to me. I gave them my all, between now and then I haven't felt this strongly about my muse or their relationships. And it still tears me up because Nat doesn't think she hurt me as much as she did. She doesn't see how she emotionally abused me and made it nearly impossible for me to have a muse without a huge glaring flaw that would ultimately make my muse lose everyone. It's been damn near impossible to pick my muses back up since then. And it was only until about two months ago when I finally messaged them one last time. I think it finally killed me when she said she stopped caring about me a long time ago. She was no longer the Nat I knew.

And the sad thing is? If she came back tomorrow and said she was sorry for everything, I would take her back. I would be overjoyed. I would set aside all that pain and hurt and anger and take her back so fucking quick.

There are others that I have awful memories with, but if they came to me to apologize and own up for what they did, I would take them back. Why? Because I'm kind and forgiving and I care too much, and I always belive that someone can change. I always give people chances. Rarely do I ever listen to that voice in my head telling me not to do something, that it's a bad idea. And I always end up hurt for it. Natalia... I didn't like how she didn't actually have an apology for me. And in the last few days, with all the fighst we've had, I've noticed that she has yet to apologize. She even said she never once called my muse distasteful, but you literally showed me that she did? This whole time since speaking to her again on Twitter has been so fucking stressful because there's the part about me that cares about her and wants to look past what she's done because she said she was sorry and she missed me. She's my friend, Hunter. Or least she was. She was there when Jimin broke Tae in half. She was there when Remi and Sophie used me and my muse to get to each other. She was there for every person who came and went that hurt my muse, that hurt me, and always helped me back up. She was my strength before I had any of my own. And when I think about not being friends with her anymore, I think about losing all of that. I think about losing the friend I had all this time.

I'm so tired of losing friends. Because I give my all into everything. I give my heart to everyone who gives me the time of day and anyone who even bothers to learn my name and doesn't forget it is so fucking special to me. Because I see everyone here with all their friends they've had for years and years but I don't have that. And Natalia is the closest thing I have to that. She's the one person who's been there the longest and hasn't given up on me. She's seen my muses progress. She's helped me along the way. So you have to understand that me and her ending our friendship is going to be so incredibly difficult for me. It's not something I can do and just get over instantly, like i thought I could at first. No, it's more complicated than that. It's seeing her appear and feeling that twinge of jealousy. It's seeing her all over my fucking friends and wondering why she has to do that when she knows I'm gonna see it. When she told me she didn't even LIKE those people. And now she's all up their asses with her new muse.

And see, this has been an issue ever since I started talking to her new muse again. You saw her say my muse was distasteful, you saw how she compared my muse to Joo in a negative light, and that she didn't like it. She's also said shitty slut shaming things to my muse in the past in the heat of fights in the past. So it's not something new she's felt, it's something she's always thought even though she always tries to brush it off like she doesn't feel that way. But she keeps bringing it up. And if she wanted to think that way, fine, whatever, you don't have to fucking like what my muse does. But what really ticks me off is that her new muse is just as bad IF NOT WORSE than my own when it comes to flirting and sleeping around. I'm pretty sure he does more of it than my muse ever did honestly. Because he's actually trying to get into everyone's pants and my muse is mostly joking when he says shit publicly. So my muse flirting and sleeping around is distasteful, but hers isn't?

And then, the thing with Sanggil and Yoongi. Nezumi started fooling around with Yoongi one day, like it just happened and it just kept going on. Sanggil was his boyfriend, and it was an open relationship, but I think they had a fight of some sort? And Sanggil took it upon himself to threaten Nezumi over Yoongi. Which, the entire time I was talking to them ooc (both of them) and things were fine. Both of their muns LOVED Nezumi and it wasn't going to become something super shitty or extend into ooc drama. It was totally okay. But Natalia decide to put her two cents in and told me that was my muse was doing was messy, and that I shouldn't have gotten involved to begin with (when Yoongi never even said anything about having a boyfriend until one day I looked at their twitter and saw a pinned tweet about him being in open relationship).

But here her muse is, flirting with and fucking both of them. The other night Ari called Yoongi "theirs". And today when Nezumi mentioned something sexually explicit that happened between himself and Sanggil, Ari had the audacity to ask "Why him of all people? He's mine." LIKE. I CAN'T FUCKING STAND THIS SHIT BECAUSE ALL MY MUSE DID WAS SLEEP WITH SOMEONE WHO DIDNT TALK ABOUT EVEN BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP, and then got accepted by BOTH of them and did nothing to disturb their relationship. But here Ari is, talking to both of them during their break up, FUCKING THEM BOTH and knowing that by doing this with her muse she's dividing them, and IM THE MESSY ONE??? And she's literally fucking claiming them with her muse when NEITHER OF THEM belong to her muse. Sanggil and Yoongi love each other, they're gonna work shit out, and Ari is worming his way in and trying to get them to love him instead? Like in all honesty it looks like Ari wants Sanggil for himself. And I'm so fucking pissed off. I've been talking about their behavior the entire time I've been speaking to Natalia again. I've talked to Sanggil's mun multiple times bc I was so pissed off, every day at least one or twice. I've also talked to Yoongi's mun and told them that it's pissing me off. I'VE BROUGHT IT UP TO NATALIA AS WELL, MULTIPLE TIMES NOW. I almost started a fight with her in a rabbit today, actually.

The thing is. I'm really fucking torn because part of me is crying and desperately wanting Natalia back because she was so much to me these past few years. But part of me really fucking despises everything she's been doing lately? And I mean every fucking thing. But I can't just walk away, she's going to be there. She's gonna be right in fucking front of me trying to take my fucking friends away from me. Nezumi doesn't like Ari. I dont' like Ari. And I don't like how Natalia can't even apologize for basically slut shaming my muse and then going off and making a new muse that's essentially a copy of mine. And then going off to fuck all my fucking friends???

Natalia knows everything I've said about her. I've never said a word to one person that I wouldn't say to anyoen else. Natalia knows that I think she's a massive fucking hypocrite right now. She knows I hate her muse. She knows Nezumi hates her muse. We've fought over it daily. The only time we've gotten along recently is when we spoke ooc mostly and even then it was tense. It's not okay. It's not like shit is just fine and dandy again. Because it's actually still awful. It's been awful this whole time. She keeps pissing me the fuck off. And I don't know if I can be her friend anymore because she really doesn't seem to care what she's doing? All these years she's told me her male muses wouldn't be affectionate with mine and they'd nevre be close, but here she is flaunting in my face her doing exactly that with other male muses. She doesn't even realize she's hurting me that much?? She has no fucking idea that this has all built up for so long and it's not just what's going on right in this moment. And honestly the longer I write about this to you the more I realize I don't think staying her friend is good for me-- but how do I let go of all this love? How do I handle watching her throw herself at my friends?

I could keep going on. But I want you to understand that this isn't done and over with. We didn't make up and become happy friends again. That's not the case. I've wanted to end it multiple times since I decided to talk to her again. And I think regardless of whether you had messaged me tonight and said anything, I think I would have drawn that conclusion anyway, because I was gonna spend this time laying out why what she's doing right now to me is truly fucking awful, and i don't think she would have been sorry in the slightest.

What I want to express to you though, is that I'm really hurt. Because the thing is, through all of this I've vented to you. I've told you all the things I felt in sadness and pain, I've shown you my anger for what she did to me and to Bo and to others. I showed you how disappointed and upset it made me to see that the things people said about her weren't false, and that she had led me astray. I showed that to you, I showed that to Bo, I showed it to the people who would understand the most because they saw that side of her too. I was fucking blown away realizing that this person I thought i knew, I really didn't know. And I showed that to you, and now you're wary because I expressed my feelings and pain of everything to you. I'm so fucking hurt right now, that it's enough for you to think you can't trust me. All because I don't know how to let go of someone, even when they hurt me. I don't know how to change that. I'm just so weak that I don't know if I can handle watching her everywhere and know that we aren't friends anymore. Not after everything we've been through. You assumed you knew what was going on between us, you assumed that we were fine again, and you let yourself decide that you would push my muse out and I can't stop crying because I don't know how to stop being so caring.

She could be the worst person in the world but that doesn't change the fact that I poure dmy everything into her and I don't want to just-- let that all go. I know I should. I know I should just be done and do better for myself. I should focus on better friends, friends who don't mislead me or my muses, friends who don't talk behind my back and then try to say they didn't say something I have a screenshot of them saying, friends who make me hide things from my other friends like she did with Bo. But it's so fucking difficult. And the worst thing is I was this close to having dropped her on my own. But you had already decided I wasn't worth your trust.

I haven't lied to anyone. I have been transparent with everyone to the point hwere I hated it because I felt like a total jerk. I've let people down and been so blunt lately that even I wish I could have lied-- but it's not me. I don't just go around and decide to talk shit about people. I mean the closest I've gotten to doing that lately is complaing about this Benji kid who keeps insulting other "daddies" in krp like he's the only good one and it's super fucking annoying. I vented to you and to others about my feelings. I heard stories from you and from others and couldn't believe my eyes. I vented my feelings about what I was being told right then and there. I told you how I felt, I showe dyou my pain, I showed you how hurt I was to find out all these things. And you don't trust me now because I showed you those things. You're acting as if these aren't things I haven't said to her, but the moment she came at me on Twitter, I went to her on AIM and really wasn't fucking having any of her shit for a good majority of the conversation. I told her all the things I told everyone else. I showed her the things people said, I showed that I was saying things too. And this whole time that I've been irritated by Ari, I've only talked to other muns who were also involved, and herself. She knows how I feel. I'm not going behind anyone's back. I'm not talking shit. I'm EXPRESSING my feelings. The feelings that haven't really changed because she hasn't really apologized for what she did and she's definitely not apologizing for creating a muse so alike mine that she's made herself look like the biggest hypocrite I've ever fucking seen.

Like I can't stress enough how painful all of this is. I already know in my heart that Natalia and I are pretty much done. And I'm literally shaking because... I gave so much of me to this friendship? And I'm going to have to let og of it. I'm so tired of being alone. I'm so tired of being transparent and giving everyone my all. I'm so tired of still being pushed down and not trusted, of not being cared for the same way. ANd maybe I'm making too much otu of this but you really want to stop shipping with me, you don't trust me, because Im trying so hard to avoid the fact that this friendship is over.

Tem was the first muse in a year or so that made any of my muses feel alive again. Tem, I felt like I could actually trust not ot hurt my muse, someone I could give my muse to and know that it wasn't going to just... fade away or break apart. And I felt for some reason that I could trust you without a doubt to be a good mun too. I felt so comfortable with you right off the bat. And this really hurts. You're pulling away when I've never been anything but honest about how I feel about everything to everyone. I rwish I had just removed Natalia because Im honestly cyring like a giant fucking baby becaise you feel like this. I don't even want my muse anymore. Im so sick of putting my all into soemthing and still losing everything. WHen will it ever work out for me? When will my muse not get the shit end of the stick? Why does Natalia still come out on top getting evreything she wants and I lose the one thing that was making my muse feel complete again?

I can't even hardly breathe righ tnow. I dont think you understand... and I don't want this to be another thing wher eyou get guilted into doing something. I feel like it's all ruined now no matter what I do. I hate myself for being so caring. I wish I could have just let her go. I would rather not have her in my life, if it meant having your trust. And Im sorry I ruiend that. Im so sorry.

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