#literally said 'It's all downhill from here'

[trashlie]

ILY FP 258

I can't believe we're actually passed episode 250 lmao I Love Yoo is truly the never ending story (affectionate). I appreciate how much of the story we really get to dig into at this pace and while I know a lot of people have long-since dropped it, I imagine the rest of us (those reading this post because why else are you here?) also appreciate it. And that's what is even more refreshing about this episode - if refreshing is even a word we can use to describe it. Getting the extra scenes from other characters, a look at their lives and from these glimpses, what we can glean in the unsaid between the lines.

Can you believe I used to prey on Kousuke's downfall? There's so many posts of me talking about him from a different view, believing that the only way he could grow and develop and make the changes necessary to make him a better person was for him to crash and burn, to fail so significantly that he would be forced to pen his eyes to reality. But here we are, me, fervently swaddling him up like a baby and shoving him into my pocket because GOD he needs to be protected.

I don't even remember when it was, that my view on him began to shift, when I went from "he's interesting but awful" to "GOD THIS IS MY SON AND I WILL FIGHT EVERYONE YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME" but.... lol there's no going back!

That's enough rambling, let's jump in.

There is something so painfully devastating about every time ILY confirms to us something we have long-since known or suspected through nuance, foreshadowing, reading between the lines, etc: That Kousuke isn't Rand's biological son, that Shinae was at the formal for Gun Kim, that Kousuke has been manipulated his whole life. Nothing in this episode regarding Kousuke is actually new to us. We have known, and talked about, for months and months long before the confirmation reveal that Yui drugs Kousuke - that he has been manipulated by her his entire life, that she orchestrated his life to manipulate him into situations she could take advantage of. It's the way she spoke about Rand's affair around Kousuke, the way she commodified Rand's love so Kousuke became convinced he'd never earned his father's love, the way she spoke of their family vs others and convinced him from such a young age that everyone was out to get them, to destroy them, and that he couldn't let them get close, couldn't let them near - and how Nol was very much a target planted in his mind.

But it's the fact that he is speaking of this and acknowledging it! Until now, Kousuke has heavily lived in denial. Again, we know this. We talk a lot about the chasm between reality and the reality he believes in. We talk a lot about how Kousuke couldn't face reality, even though on some level he knew everything he believed and was told was not quite true not quite real, but that he was so afraid of the truth, he couldn't do it. Kousuke admitting that he's been driven by fear and envy explains everything about him, and why he could not accept the only unwavering unconditional love he was offered.

A few weeks ago I saw a video on instagram of this father talking about a conversation he had with his daughter, who was feeling a little uncomfortable with her friend group. A new girl started to play with her and her best friend and she said she wasn't exactly jealous, but that maybe it was that she was afraid that there wasn't enough love to go around. Her dad had to explain to her that love is not like a pizza - it's not finite, a limited amount that could be taken and hogged by someone else. But Kousuke never learned this. His father's love was commodified and he was made to fear this other kid who he mistakenly believed knew a version of his father he'd never been privy to. He never learned that love is finite, that Rand could have enough love for the both of them, and feared that Nol would hog it all - that he WAS hogging it all because whether or not it was good or bad, Nol received more attention that Kousuke did. And that speaks VOLUMES about how Kousuke sees Rand, what he thinks of their relationship. In his mind, he is still unworthy, that he's not noteworthy enough.

This part gets to me so badly. We, as omniscient readers, know that Rand has tried his best, but that Yui runs a spectacular interference with which he can't compete, largely because of the roles their family have placed them in - Rand the busy businessman, Yui the mommy homemaker. But no matter how hard he tries, it isn't good enough. Rand tries to reach Kousuke, but the manipulation and paranoia are so far gone that the times Rand does have the chance to convey his feelings, Kousuke can't even believe it, because he thinks he's not good enough to deserve that love, that he hasn't fully qualified for it yet. And despite that, Nol, who Kousuke feels hasn't done half of what he has to deserve Rand's love, gets the attention. It doesn't matter that it's negative attention, that Rand barks at Nol, that Nol feels Rand hates and regrets him, because ultimately, it's still more than Kousuke receives. And worse, to him, every time Rand is busy reprimanding Nol, he turns away from Kousuke to do it.

I want to make it clear that this is a deep trauma point of Kousuke's. He's never learned healthy love and the only person who gave him healthy love was someone he was set to fear and fight. Something I think about a lot is the flashback to Kousuke, in the bushes, watching Nessa and Nol's display of warm affection, before Yui appears literally looming before him. In that moment, he witnesses something he's been deprived of. "We're not like other families"'. He's told from a young age he shouldn't compare himself to those healthy families, to warm and affectionate relationships that he will not cultivate in this household. From such a young age it is normalized, that they aren't like others, that they are cold and distant. From a young age, he's made to stuff down his feelings, his tender wants and desires, in order to earn them. To be a good little boy who makes his parents proud. To make his father look his way.

There's also something about the way he says "I've been a good boy" that echoes Shinae learning she's been manipulated by Yui, devastated and angry and yelling about how she's been a good girl so why do these things keep happening to her, all she wanted to do was help her dad. Two people who, from a young age, felt they had to be so obedient, so good, to not be a burden, and despite following the rules, despite doing as they were told, despite trying to be whatever version of "good" they believed in, the world still beat them up and mistreated them. The world still punished them.

As Rin in our discord server pointed out, though, to some degree, Kousuke is very much a person who can - and does - act out, when he's emotionally high-strung. He's a volatile man, and it's largely to do with the fact that he's been drugged to placate him for so long. He never learned emotional regulation, he never learned how to deal with high-stress situations or to face conflict or to own up to things. This is something that some readers who hate Kousuke and expect him to act a certain way because of his age are missing. You don't just learn these things with age. You learn them with experience and Kousuke was deprived of the opportunity TO have those experiences. He never had to learn these behaviors, and now as an adult he cannot function when overwhelmed.

Idk this whole episode is just heartbreaking. It's devastating. I remember when I was someone praying on Kousuke's downfall and now I want to take it all back ;___; I always believed he had to crash and burn to be able to see the world for what it really was and to face his fears, but this is somehow so much worse.

And even though he's drunk, I don't think he's going to forget all of this in the morning. Rather, I think what he's voicing are things that have been plaguing him since waking up in the hospital. From that moment, we saw him wary and distrustful of his mother, we saw his concern for Nol rising above everything else, but grappling with the understanding that he doesn't deserve to stand in front of Nol anymore. These aren't epiphanies coming to him just because he's drunk; it's more like he's only voicing them because he's drunk. But even when he sobers up, he will probably still be haunted by these fears, these agonies, these truths, this understanding.

How does he face his mother after this? How does he face anyone? He may not even feel like he can trust Jayce - who while very kind to him, is still employed by his family. He may not even feel like he can trust Hansuke (though I really hope that's not the case).

He's so miserable and it genuinely hurts to have him lay it all out for us - everything we've known and suspected, like how it was so painfully clear he WANTED Nol's friendship, their brotherhood, but feared it, didn't believe that there was enough love to go around, that there could only be one of them and that even if it was for good or bad reasons, Nol cast him in the shadow. And all these years, watching as Nol, as Yeonggi, grew into this person who sounded so very much like this unknown version of their father, someone funny who makes others laugh, someone goofy, someone so boyish in the ways Kousuke was never allowed to be. Watching as he gathers friends, while Kousuke, so unlikeable, is wanted only for his money, for his status, for the clout.

He doesn't even know WHO HE IS! Questioning his own traits he's believed of himself, wondering if this is even him, if these parts of him are real or does he just act it, say it, pretend it, while trying to fulfill a role he was shoved into. That makes me feel SO deeply sad, because it's something I've been anticipating for so long: Kousuke wondering WHO he really is, how much of him is real and how much of it is the result of manipulation.

And that moment that he catches himself and says no no that's offensive and rude you can't be like that. ;AAA;

For him to admit how much he envies others, how much he craves the kind of connection others have, the kind of family others have, to feel that love and warmth that he's been deprived of, forced to endure this solitude because, as he believes, he didn't get the good parts of Rand. And what will happen when he learns that Rand isn't his father? That he never stood a chance to inherit any of those traits. Kousuke has operated on this belief that, if he tries hard enough, he can earn the things he craves, but I fear learning about his parenthood will make him think that no matter how hard he tried, he would never earn that, because none of it was ever him, could have gone to him.

I think this is where Shinae, in the future, will come in. I feel so very strongly that she will be someone who helps Kousuke to see that this isn't true, that these kinds of personality traits aren't something inherited, but rather something learned. For him to one day realize it's the paralyzing fear that holds him back, not his genetics. Of course, I acknowledge this will still take a lot of therapy but...

Something else very remarkable to me is the way Kousuke recognizes Shinae in Shinhye, because their eyes "feel the same" and he opens up to her - on some level, whether or not he is consciously aware of it, Kousuke knows, or maybe just wants to, that he can trust Shinae. That she is someone who is safe. He even knows how she feels about his mother. I don't think we'll see a lot of Kousuke and Shinae's friendship until we're passed our timeskips, but it makes me feel a little hopeful about it, that she'll be able to reach him, because she feels like someone who is safe. It's the way he sees Nol in her and wants to try to have that do over, a relationship with someone who  has unconditional love for him. It's the way he knows he mistreated Nol, that it was wrong, that he took it all out on this kid he was so afraid of because he had no other outlet, and he wants to do better but knows that there's nothing to salvage anymore.

But also, it just makes me hope more and more that in the future we WILL see a reconciliation between the brothers. As I say every time, it doesn't mean they have to become brothers or friends, but I just want them to see each other fully. Kousuke knows what he did to Nol. He doesn't deny it, even if he might not say it out loud unless he's drunk. But Nol is still so in the dark. Yujing is trying to tip him off and make him aware of it, but I hope one day when Nol realizes it, when he finds out that Kousuke, too, was Yui's victim, that he wasn't the only one, that Kousuke was made to fear Nol's love, he might.... understand. I'm saying understand here loosely because I don't want people to get the idea that I mean Nol will forgive him and Kousuke will be justified, but rather that Nol would be able to understand why Kousuke felt that way, and move on. But I can't help but hope that it will lead to an understanding, a reconciliation, where maybe they can try to be in each other's lives.

I think it's also interesting that Shinhye was somewhat honest, even if she wasn't very forthcoming, with Kousuke about her own family. It sounds like her mother has been gone for a long time, that she's been on her own the whole while, and I think it reinforces the idea that she believes both that Simhan is her father and that he rejected her, that he didn't want anything to do with her. It lines up, too, with how she feels that he wouldn't react well if he saw her (although I think she credited that to looking like their mother). In the same way that Shinae has felt abandoned and cast aside by their mother, Shinhye probably thinks their father never tried reach out, to find them, to maintain a relationship with her. Or perhaps it's that her mother fed her lies about him, made her believe him a different type of man, made her believe there would never be anything of their relationship to salvage. And given that she's the one who Kousuke opened to, it makes me think that there must be some kind of parallel there; the way she mentioned her own mother feels like maybe her mother, too, was a manipulative - or at the very least, dishonest - person.

I don't speculate a lot on Shinhye because frankly I don't think I know enough about her to really try to talk about her, but I do think that it's very likely there's some kind of connection between Shinhye and the Hirahras or Gun. To be clear, I don't believe she's working with Yui at all. I think it's more like... Alyssa isn't the only girl who has been trafficked by Gun. What's the likelihood that Shinae and Shinhye's mother was? Given her history, the gambling addiction that was so egregious her reputation haunted Shinae and chased her to a new neighborhood and school, was she seeking money somewhere else, somewhere more dangerous? Is that part of why they had to change their name? There's so many questions left about them, and I look forward to learning more about her, but, much like with Alyssa, I think it will take time and be dropped in little tidbits like this - things to read into and try to glean something from.

And maybe we'll see more of this duo in the future? It would feel a little weird to give them this one single run in, but I'm not entirely sure. Quimchee likes to keep us on our toes. After all, Minhyuk and Shinhye have also had only the one run in. Still, I think it would be interesting to watch, if Shinhye ever felt.... I want to say maybe compelled? to dig in more to Kousuke, ever feel a kind of kinship. I don't think she'll open up to him at all, but rather, maybe she'd keep going back because a. he's wealthy and there's more she can nick from him (assuming he doesn't realize she stole anything while in his apartment, if he even remembers any of this) and b. wanting to gather more intel.

Like I said though, she's hard to read so I don't want to cling too hard to any ideas and, instead, sit back and enjoy the show.

#ILY Brainrot #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #I Love Yoo #Kousuke Hirahara #Shinhye #idk what to tag her as because we know she isn't known as Shinhye anymore #and because Simhan and their mother never married AND she was from a previous relationship Yoo isn't even her family name #so I can't really use Shinhye Yoo lol #alas #anyway this episode was DEVASTATING and quimchee said it's the beginning of the sad episodes meant to happen in March #literally said 'It's all downhill from here' #which I take to mean til the timeskip #BUCKLE UP BABIES WE'RE GOING FOR A BIG CRY SESH ;______; #i gotta say tho this episode didn't even make me cry - i guess because none of this is new and I've been bracing myself for it #Kousuke is so fucking wet cat it agonizes me ;_____; #I could write a whole essay on how Yui destroyed him and Nol in one fell swoop #i think a lot about precocious little Kousuke who tried so hard to be a good little boy and rushed through school because he wanted so badl #to hurry up and catch up to his father and join him in the workplace #all the opportunities he lost #the way he tried to fit himself into a personality a person he never picked out but just believed would get him what he wanted #he lost himself in the process #or maybe he never even got to know himself #i think too a lot about Kousuke who played piano and gave it up when he came to believe it wasn't important to his dad #that it didn't garner the attention and praise he seeked #so he dropped it to better mold himself into someone he thought Rand WOULD be proud of #FUCKING DEVASTATED #I'M GOING TO JUMP OFF THE ROOF SOBS

[strrwbrrryjam]

that scene between arthur and dutch in chapter six where arthur insists to dutch about letting john, his family and the girls is one of my favourite scenes from rdr2 because it packs so much about arthur and dutchs character/relationship

this was likely one of the first times that arthur had ever outright challenged dutch to his face, he's not even challenging him, really, he's merely insisting dutch put the lives of the gang over the money, which is something i and arthur would think dutch would appreciate given all of his preaching of loyalty and freedom and family. he's very clearly passionate about this, given his raised voice and hand gestures, but it's clear that he's nervous, too, his words coming out rushed

and when dutch responds with "john? ...insist?" it's clear that arthur has every reason to be nervous, because dutch did not like that at all, with his slow, almost spelling out the word "insist," repeating arthur's word as if clarifying exactly what arthur is telling him, almost giving him a chance to go back on it. he sounds and looks angry, almost shocked at the notion, like he expected arthur to still be blindly following him after everything

and arthur can clearly tell that dutch didn't like that, his eyes are shifting and he takes a second to answer, "yeah, insist," which is just so brave of him, because this is the man who arthur has looked up to for twenty-two years, loved like a parent, who he had ruined real relationships for, his fiance, his partner and son, for again, twenty-two fucking years and yet he's standing his ground and telling dutch that yes, yes he said that, and he meant it too. he's not blindly following dutch anymore and can recognize that dutch isn't good at following through on his word, he isn't the dutch he recognizes from his memory and yet he still respects dutch so much that he still comes to him about letting them go

from this scene you can also tell that their relationship has gone so downhill, because there have been times earlier in the story where arthur has spoken out against dutch, the time when dutch tells arthur to go rescue micah comes to mind, where it's very light, almost joking in a way, but here it's very clearly a confrontation, the tension is literally suffocating that you, as the player, can feel it seeping through the screen where end up holding your breath

and dutch, like he does earlier in the story, tries to cover up his reaction, and attempts to reassure arthur that he's listening and trying to disperse the tension in the air between the two, but it doesn't work, because he can't hide what happened with his charisma, arthur's still keeping his distance from him, so instead he distracts him with the upcoming train robbery

its just so fucking good i love it so much

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan #rdr2 dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde #van der linde gang #rdr2 van der linde gang #strawberry speaks

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Look Out for You

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You stop taking care of yourself, literally worried sick when the boys don’t come home from a hunt.

Three days. Not a long time, right? Just a long weekend, really. 72 hours. It didn’t even qualify as long enough for a vacation. It was no big deal.

At least, until three days turned into four. 72 hours turned into 96. Regular texts turned into silence.

You’d been lounging around the bunker for four days. For the first three, you were anxious but functional. You hated it when the boys were out on a hunt far away; you spent the whole time worrying.

But it all went downhill when they didn’t come back. They were supposed to be back in three days at most, but that marker had come and gone and there was no word from Sam and Dean.

You hadn’t gotten any sleep the night they didn’t come home, and you found yourself too nervous to eat now. You’d called Castiel more times than you could count; he was busy in heaven, so you’d weren’t expecting a reply, but you tried anyway—nothing. You’d done the same with Sam and Dean’s phones, with the same result.

Four days turned into five; five to six. The food in the fridge was going bad, not that it mattered; you hadn’t eaten since day three. You hadn’t slept or showered, either; you couldn’t bare to to anything but pace around by the door, waiting, hoping, praying.

By day seven, you were pretty sure you were delirious. Whether it was from hunger or sleep deprivation you couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore except Sam and Dean coming home.

You felt like a rope, frayed at the end; like one little tug would unravel you completely. The tug came in the form of the sound of the door opening. Your whole body stiffened like you’d been shocked, and your exhausted system couldn’t take it. You knees gave out under you, and before the door was even open you began to cry. You weren’t even sure why; whether it was relief that Sam and Dean might be back, or fear that it was some intruder that would find you so vulnerable and kill you easily. Part of you didn’t care anymore; either way, the torture would be over.

“Guess who—hey!”

You heard the voice as if through a deep fog, and it didn’t register in you until you felt hands at your arms and face.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You forced your eyes into focus and saw Dean, his face hovering over you as he cradled your face in his hands, his brows drawn together in concern. Sam was at your side, holding onto your arms as though to anchor you to the world.

“S’m…De…” your voice was hoarse, and just trying to speak sent you into a coughing fit.

“Hey, hey it’s ok,” Dean soothed once he was sure that you weren’t hurt. He pulled you into his arms. “It’s ok, we’re right here.”

“You-you said three days,” you sobbed. “Where were you?”

“I’m sorry.” You felt Sam’s arms around your shoulder as he pulled himself closer to you. “We’re so so sorry.”

“What’s going on?” Dean asked as he pulled back. “You look awful, when was the last time you slept?”

Your answer was cold and direct.

“Day three.”

“Commere.” Dean sighed and stood, lifting you into his arms. “You need to sleep.”

You let Dean carry you into your room without a word, Sam following behind. But when Dean laid you in your bed you had to ask—

“Where were you?”

“The hunt went a little sideways,” Sam said. “We kept trying to send messages, but nothing went through.”

“I’m gonna have to give the communications system in the bunker a check,” Dean piped in.

“I’m sorry,” Sam added. “We really did try. But we can talk more about the hunt later, you need to sleep now.”

The room was quiet for a minute as you settled down in your bed. You were the first to break the silence.

“Can you stay with me?”

“Of course,” Dean said, and Sam sat on the edge of your bed. “We’re not going anywhere.”

…

Sam, exhausted from the hunt, ended up falling asleep right next to you. Dean, however, was too distracted to sleep. As soon as you and Sam were settled down and breathing deeply, he went straight to the kitchen. He was pretty sure just looking at you that you hadn’t eaten in a while, but he wanted to be sure. Sure enough, when he got to the kitchen, he found that there was almost as much food in it as there had been when they’d left. He set about preparing some food with whatever wasn’t expired.

“Dean?” Dean turned at the sound of your voice to see you sliding into the kitchen in your socks, rubbing your eyes.

“Hey kiddo,” Dean smiled softly. “Commere, I made you a sandwich.”

Dean watched carefully as you made your way to a stool and dig into one of the sandwiches he’d left on the counter.

“Sweetheart, when was the last time you ate?” Dean asked.

You swallowed guiltily and avoided Dean’s gaze as you shrugged.

“Sweetheart…”

“I couldn’t,” you said finally. “I was too scared.”

“Baby,” Dean sighed, pulling you into his arms when you shuddered. “I get it, ok? I know you were scared for us, but you can’t do that. You gotta take care of yourself. I don’t even wanna think about what would’ve happened to you if we had taken even longer to get back.”

“It’s just so hard.” Dean held you tighter when he heard your tear-strained voice. “I need you guys. I don’t know what I’d do if you guys didn’t come back…”

“I know, I know,” Dean soothed, his arms tightening around you. “Ok, we don’t have to talk about this now. Just get some food, and maybe a shower, ok? And then you should probably sleep more.”

You nodded your assent and returned to your sandwich. After a moment, you said—

“Dean? You…are you guys gonna be around for a bit?”

“Me and Sammy aren’t leaving until you’re taken care of, ok? You need some sleep, and you gotta be taking care of yourself. Plus, the bunker needs a serious grocery run. So yeah baby, me and Sam are gonna be around for a bit.”

Dean chuckled softly when you jumped up and hugged him again.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“Anytime, little sister.”

“Mm, sandwich.”

You and Dean broke apart with a laugh as Sam staggered into the room and went right for the food.

“You gonna get some more sleep after that sandwich?” Sam asked you, suddenly serious.

“Yes mom,” you groaned, rolling your eyes.

Sam and Dean both chuckled at this.

“Just looking out for you, kid.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale

#dean winchester #the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #spn sam winchester #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader

[keeksandgigz]

thinking of eddie helping you braid your hair when you’re getting ready to spend the night

made this about eddie and witchy because i cannot stop thinking about them- this is also for the anon who said they can't stop reading it (thank u hehehe)

fluffy fluff below the cut, witchy being jealous and thinking of hexing his exes <3

He had to drag you into his apartment.

In a hilarious turn of events, due to some kind of San Francisco strike, all metro routes were suspended and there was no way you were going to walk in heeled boots all the way to Twin Peaks.

"Why call an Uber, baby? You can literally come upstairs at mine" Eddie says, watching you huff as you read over the e-mail about the strike.

"No Eddie you don't understand. I need to be home. I have a whole ritual! And silk pillowcases! Why can't you just drive me?" you whine, hoping he'll fold to your requests like he always does.

He grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a tender look.

"Because, my lovely witchy, metro routes being down means there will be absolute pandemonium in the streets. And I'm not trying to stay fifteen minutes stuck in downhill traffic" he laughs as you follow him around the store.

He's still working, you got off an hour before and after walking around the vintage stores for an hour there wasn't much else to do. It's just him in the record shop, working the closing shift. You follow him around trying to convince him to drive you back as he puts back the vinyls in the milk crates, folds band t- shirts, and rearranges patches in the display case.

"C'mon, witchy, just go up. I have Chinese takeout from last night or spaghetti if you wanna cook, I'll stop by the hair place across the block to get you a silk pillowcase. Promise" he says, leaning over the counter to kiss your forehead he opens up the cash till.

"But Ed-" you whine, you've never slept outside of your apartment before.

"No buts, I'm sorry witchy. Now get your cute butt out of here, I've got money out" he says, puckering his lips, ready for a kiss.

You lean over the counter and give him a quick kiss before he hands you the keys to his apartment.

"Don't forget to call Lorraine to get her to feed Circe!" he exclaims before you're out the door. You roll your eyes, of course you'll call Lorraine, your neighbor, if Lorraine existed.

But he doesn't have to know you can feed Circe with a snap of your finger whenever you forget to leave food out in the morning.

So you groan and you go through the backdoor of the store to reach the small, dingy courtyard of his apartment. Second floor, apartment 5C.

This building is so old it doesn't even have an elevator. You reach the door and open it, the rattle of keys falling over the counter is the only sound that can be heard, along with the clack of the short heels of your boots.

You take your shoes off and go through his fridge. Day- old Chinese takeout, a carton of eggs and milk. Three cans of Sierra Nevada, a half- drunk bottle of Coke Zero. You open his freezer.

Honey walnut shrimp and fried rice from Trader Joe's, a bottle of vodka, and a tub of ice cream from the last time you were craving it.

You roll your eyes and pick up the phone.

"Hey Ed, you have jack shit in your fridge. Can you stop by the Greek place down the block? I’ll have a gyro with chicken and falafel on the side” you request, hearing his groan at another chore he has to do post closing.

“Baby the Chinese food in the fridge is pretty good, it’s from the place we always go to” he’s not very convincing, but he’s tired and now lost count of the cash he was counting.

“‘kay i’ll put an online order for it so you just have to go pick it up, sound good?” you ignore him.

“Ugh fine but I better get, like, the biggest kiss in return.“ he groans, but it’s true. He is a weak, weak man when it comes to you. “Get me the pita wrap with lamb and fries, and lemme also get seasoned fries on the side. Thank you witchy, love you gotta go” he says, hanging up the phone.

So you order the food and then sneak in Eddie's bedroom to change into something comfortable. Getting rid of that fine line when clothes felt too much like clothes, the stitching pressing into your skin, the cuffs of your sweater feeling a bit too tight against your wrists, your jeans too tight on your legs.

So you venture in his closet and steal a pair of sweats and a ratty black t- shirt. One of his many. You go to the bathroom and notice there's no mirror. This dude.

So you tie your hair away from your face and use the nice face wash you got him- which you're sure he rarely uses- and wipe the makeup off your face. You go look for a clean towel, 'cause God knows you will not be wiping your face with the hand towel sitting on the rod on the wall.

After your face is clean you plop yourself on the couch and watch TV to pass the time.

Thirty- odd minutes later a rattling of keys startles you. Eddie walks through the door with his arms full of plastic bags. He places them on the counter.

"Hey witchy, I see you've made yourself at home?" he says, as you walk towards him and bury yourself in his arms. At least he smelled nice.

"Hmmm missed you, Ed" you mutter against the fabric of his t- shirt.

"You missed me?" you give a little nod, followed by a hum. His heart beats a bit faster, it's nice knowing you think of him when he's away.

"Aw, witchy. I missed you too, are you hungry?" he says, giving you a sweet kiss on the head as he detaches from your grip and reaches for the bag with the food, taking out the boxes.

"Also stopped by the hair place, got you that silk pillowcase and some shampoo and conditioner to keep here. Doubt you'll wanna use my three in one shit" he snickers, and you blush timidly. He's not sweet in the way that he'll kiss you in the middle of the street, but he is for sure sweet in the way he thinks about you an embarrassing amount of times a day.

"Thanks Ed, you didn't have to do that" you say, and he blushes, the boy tinges himself pink because you appreciate him.

"Y'know, anything for you" he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he brings the takeout boxes to the coffee table.

You follow him and plop down on the couch "I was watching 'Sex and the City' while you were gone" you explain, biting into your gyro.

"Was Samantha being her usual crazy self?" he doesn't even know who Samantha is, but he thinks it's funny to ask you every time. You giggle as he puts on a random show for you to watch.

After an episode Eddie stands up and stretches.

"I'm beat, I think it's time for bed" he says "c'mon, witchy"

You rise from the couch and follow him into the master bathroom.

“I have a toothbrush here for you, I kinda uh-“ from his tone you can tell he’s embarrassed “I got one for here the first time you came over, in case you ever, y’know, wanted to sleep over” he says sheepishly, while you wrap your arms around him.

He offers it to you, it’s pink. Your favorite color.

“Aw, Ed. You’re so sweet, thank you” you say and you swear you can see him blush as you place a delicate kiss on his warming cheek.

This slice of domesticity taken away from the mystic vibe of your apartment really makes you wonder. It makes you think about a normal life, with him.

The way he washes his face like a madman (without face wash), letting the water wet his bangs instead of pulling his hair back, the way he ties his hair up before brushing his teeth.

You take the toothbrush out of your mouth "Ah shtill don' undestand why you don' have a mirrah" you sputter, mouth full as you spit the toothpaste in the sink.

"Why I don't have a mirror? Previous tenant broke it and my asshole landlord still won't fix it" he says, taking off his shirt. Your eyes linger on the lines of his back a little too long, bordering the line between looking and staring.

So you turn around and you try to braid your hair without a mirror, but to no avail, every strand seems to be three different sizes.

You groan in frustration as Eddie approaches you.

"Lemme help, witchy" he says, standing behind you and tending an arm out for a hair tie.

He divides the hair into three strands. Your hair is so soft between his fingers.

He wishes he could stall so that he could caress it for longer, but an impatient yawn escapes your mouth as his hands deftly get to work. Over, under, over, under-

"Where did you learn to braid hair?" you ask, feeling the way he softly holds each strand, making sure he's not pulling at your scalp. You don't see him, but a smile forms around his tongue, peeking out of his lips in concentration. Over, under.

"I had girlfriends before you, witchy. They taught me to braid my own hair" he chuckles, as you try to tune out the word girlfriends. Under, over, under.

He can see a pout form on your lips, he smiles.

"Why'd you need to braid your hair?" you huff, thinking of going on a spiraling rampage and hexing every one of his exes. Over.

"Well" he begins "one time, an ex braided my hair and it came out super curly, so I wanted to try it myself. Turns out it needs to stay in the braid for a while for that to happen" he shrugs.

Under, over, tie.

"All done," he announces, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Thanks, Ed" you examine the braid, flinging it over your shoulder "looks really nice" you say, and give him a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He gets himself into bed. His bed is oddly comfortable and his sheets smell of laundry detergent.

"I might have been washing my sheets every other day in case you wanted to sleep over" he confesses, blushing, as he lifts his arm, opening the warmth of his chest to you.

"You" you give him a kiss "are literally" another kiss "the sweetest guy" another kiss "in the history of always" last kiss.

He gets flustered when you call him sweet, because under the hardening exterior of black chains and shirts with exploding heads and hooded skeletal figures, there's just a sweet guy who loves you and wants you to like him for being himself.

"Just want you to, you know, have a good experience with me" he says, caressing your head.

"You get an 11/10 Yelp rating, can't recommend to anyone, though. You seem to be preoccupied with a really cool girl, and it seems it's going to go on forever" you giggle, as he smiles and gives you a kiss.

"Go to sleep, cool girl. Goodnight, love you" he says, before turning off his lights.

"Goodnight, Ed" you say, turning over so he can spoon you.

"You have to say it back" he whispers in the quiet of the dark room.

"Right, sorry. I love you too, Ed" you correct yourself and close your eyes, falling into one of the best sleeps you've ever had in your life.

The morning after, Eddie wakes up to his landlord bringing in a new mirror, his hair extra curled and all his exes blocked on his social media. But he doesn't have to know about that last one.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x witchy!reader #modern!eddie x witchy!reader #modern!eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au #eddie munson blurb

[lizaluvsthis]

SMG4: Trash Friends

Shit. Hello guys- I stole my phone and it is currently 4 am and I posted this (Because it's scheduled on queue)

I'm still not here but I managed to grab the phone out of the room, I can post for a bit. But then again, I wont be catching up to stuff while I'm at it.

Okay so- this video is about SMG4 needing that usb where michael jordan is n stuff to become popular.

SMG3 is needing that one to become popular as well so that his shop would be flooded by customers.

And then where it comes to needing stuff, they'd do literally anything for their 'friends' to get it.

SMG3 lied to him saying the business is running good, he just didnt want to face the problem in front of the protagonist that he's going downhill with running the business.

"I'm finally gonna get the attention I deserve, and prove to everyone YOU'RE THE WORST VERSION OF ME!"

This? This was his thoughts. This is how it speaks for him that is why he was afraid to show that to him.

After SMG3 told Mario he needs that usb for Fame and Love because SMG4 has too much of that. He knew how much important it is to him. He wanted the same love like how SMG4 has, he'd never had all the attention like how SMG4 had too. He was lost of himself.

Mario being the gullible idiotic man he is, he never complained to three about his speak of truth, he had comforted his friends especially meggy. Mario figured that Three had exposed his inner emotions, the most that he can do is just vomit that sh-t out.

Right after Three hid Mario from his hat, turns out he really does need shampoo. I mightve noticed that he'd been staying up late at night and doesn't shower because of his bad habits.

Sometimes depressed people mostly forgot to shower and just cope sh-ts to themselves like curling up to the bed and wallow in sorrow. And mostly they just hide that feeling. And I guess you might've noticed SMG4 did. Thats the reason why he searched that up from the internet.

He was THIS obviously close to reveal he had been concerned about Three because he stinks.

When SMG4 told three what the matter was, since the only thing he knew from him is that his business is doing fine. SMG4 thought that three wanted that fame all to himself, being the selfish one he knew back then.

After four told him "you're being selfish! All you ever think about is yourself! JUST. LET. GO!" the soft spot where SMG3 got his by the heart because of it.

He never wanted to go back to being how he wanted to be. He never wanted to show that whole destruction thing again from his ecil doings. This was the rrason why he ever wanted to change into a better person.

"OKAY!" "Okay...?" SMG4 noticed where Three easily surrendered himself, letting his guard down due to his anger.

He opened up.

"YEAH! I dont know what I was thinking! I'm doing fine! My shop is ALWAYS flooded with customers, I'm SO successful. Nobody is EVER throwing my coupons in garbage.

AND I DEFINITELY DON'T FEEL LIKE THE WORST VERSION OF YOU THAT LIKES TO PRETEND HE'S DOING FINE!"

HE said that to himself. When he thought he'd be the worst ever version of him, because he was supposed to be an antagonist. He was supposed to be SMG4's enemy, but he was also supposed to be partners with Four because they were both meme guardians.

SMG4 didn't knew. He always didnt know all of SMG3's antics because he thought Three also had everything to himself. But he didn't know he also felt like this, like Trash.

SO THIS GOES ON WITH THE MORAL. SMG4 noticing it just now is that he felt like TRASH. Because last time he'd ever notice is just Three wanting attention of how the golden child (aka SMG4) is when he gains that love and joy with everyone from meme warts.

Yet Three is there saying that to himself. He was there being open to Four and to Mario that he is struggling as well. His whole life, his financial issues, everything that meant to him. He popped the balloon and spoke the truth.

Four picked up the coupon, he was sad about this when he had finally just realized the whole sh-t of things. Sure four has done alot of wrong things but this? This is sick to his guts feeling bad for three...

Four looked at mario because he knows how valuable of a friend Mario is when dealing with emotions and open ups. And so- he got to the talk with three.

With all thats settled, SMG3 came back and fist bumbs Four to know that he's good now. What I also didn't expect is that three after using the usb, Four didn't even stop him. He looks at three with those softened eyes and just. Wow.

Four really wanted to show three his kindness, he was soft on him so he gave him a chance. He wanted three to be happy too.

#smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #lizafixates

[stayinhellevator]

Hard To Love

Where Chan was hard to love but harder to not. Pairing: Bang Chan x gn!Reader // Lee Know x gn!Reader Genre: Angst with fluff at the end / friends to lovers Word Count: 4471  Warning: cuss words, implied toxic behaviour, mentions of a girlfriend and ragging. Playlist: Every Road Leads ~ Bette Midler

Bang Chan was hard to love. To you at least.

You had known Christopher Bang all your life. Your parents were neighbours turned friends which naturally passed on to Chan and you; childhood best friends keeping their friendship intact all the way to high school and even through college. And now, even as you both were adults, occupied in your own jobs, your friendship still remained, stronger than ever.

It was safe to say, you had the best memories with Chan. Be it breaking rules or crying over some soppy ass movie on a Saturday night; laughing at weird corny jokes or bawling over a nasty breakup. All your firsts also belonged to each other, call it curiosity or whatever. There wasn’t much to complain about your platonic journey with Chan.

Except when there was. Things weren’t all that platonic on your end, after all. And how couldn’t they? Chan was perfect after all, at least for you. To you. But it was hard to love Christopher ‘Chan’ Bang.

“Hey __!! Where’s Chan hyung? Is he not coming tonight?”

Jeongin’s loud call jerked you back into the present, as you noticed all of their attention was now on you.

“He said he’ll be on time and now everyone’s here while he’s slacking.”

Hyunjin dramatically shook his head, as if to expressly show his disapproval, not that Chan or anyone in the room cared much.

“How would I know? I’m right here, sitting with you guys, aren’t I?”

You tried using sarcasm as a way to ward off their attention from you, knowing that they thought you both must’ve fought and were now grovelling for each other. But the truth was, you really didn’t know where Chan was; you hadn’t known anything about him for a few months now.

“I don’t know, you guys are always attached to each other’s hip so…”

Jisung’s voice, masked with indifference, couldn’t hide the amusement that filled his eyes at the irony of the situation, which made you scoff in annoyance.

As Chan and you got into high school, you befriended Changbin and Minho respectively and together you guys made a lot of memories and unable to part ways, you took admission in the same college where you found Jisung and his younger brother Seungmin, then Hyunjin and lastly Minho’s younger brother Jeongin too joined your group, all of them a year junior to the four of you. The last to join your group was also a junior, another Australian, Felix, that Chan saved from ragging and introduced him to your group. Since then the nine of you are inseparable.

Honestly though, the group was always divided a little by biases towards Chan and you. Changbin and Minho sided with you for some reason. If teams were being formed, they would be the first to pick you, even when Chan wouldn’t and you could now for sure say that if things ever went downhill, they’d be the ones to never leave your side whereas Hyunjin, Han and Jeongin always biased Chan, dare you say revered him for some reason. Felix was the obvious one, Chan literally was his knight in shining armour though your friends always joked that he had some kind of bi-panic towards Chan and you. Seungmin on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered less. If it were casually picking teams, he’d go by whatever team he was feeling that day. But if it were a serious issue, he’d always side with whatever he thought was right. So he never really picked a side.

In his words, “I dislike you motherfuckers all the same.” But you knew that his precious heart would and could never pick sides. And you adored him and this little chosen family of yours, even if they gave you run for your money sometimes, a little less than you adored Chan though.

Chan was for a lack of better words, MIA these days. He used to tell you that he couldn’t survive an hour without you, which was somewhat true based on your history. You guys were indeed always attached to hip, no matter how much you wanted to punch the smirk off Jisung’s face.

“Sorry guys I had an emergency.”

Lo and behold, there he was. The man of the hour, truly. He was on everybody’s mind yet you couldn’t be sure what or who was on HIS mind. Strolling in so casually and effortlessly gorgeous, oblivious to the storm in your head, greeting everyone with that bright smile of his that easily made your heart skip a beat or two. He exuded main character energy; the handsome protagonist that makes all the girls in college swoon, that is adored by children and elders alike, the favourite friend of all the parents, the one that can easily make friends with even the coldest person in the world, the one who got the most roses during valentines and would smoothly reject them with the most innocent face as if he didn’t know the entire female population of the college liked him.

He was annoying and charming and you were just another female in that lot, who failed to resist him. But who could blame you when you were so close to him that you could almost taste the kind of love that you wanted from him. You were not delusional after all, just hopeful.

“Hey sweet girl! How are you doing?”

But it was harder to not love him, especially when he spoke to you like that. The sweet nicknames in his honey like voice, the genuine adoration in his alluring eyes and the way his words seemed to always melt your heart in a mush. You’ve loved him ever since you first understood what love was.

“I’m good. How about you?”

You could feel the squeak in your words, and so did the other seven men in the room, as if someone had wrung your throat and made you answer but Chan only passed you his infamous flashing smile.

“I’m good too, now that I’ve seen you.”

And he said it so casually, oblivious to the heat spreading the entirety of your face and the racing of your heart, that you knew it didn’t mean what you actually wanted it to mean. This was the real him, he had always been good with words, it came naturally to him. Maybe you weren’t a special case to him for he naturally had so much love to give to everyone, even if you selfishly wanted to be the only one.

Maybe, this was all he ever was-oblivious. He couldn’t see what the rest of your friends could, your parents could, the entire college could, heck you’re sure even a stranger would if they were to be in your vicinity. But he didn’t. He couldn’t see the person he said he knew the best. At least, not anymore. You should’ve known. He was the best at obliviousness.

“You were the one who disappeared and are now suddenly back with your cheesy words.”

You rolled your eyes at him, trying to feign nonchalance, pretend that you didn’t care about him, pretend that it didn’t hurt, his actions don’t hurt. After all, this was what you were the best at-pretence.

He sat beside you with a soft, dramatic ‘oof’ and wrapped his arms around your shoulders in a bear hug. You let out a sigh of relief, as if a burden was lifted off your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I know that’s on me but I was going through something, that I’ll soon share with you, before you say it. You know I’d never abandon you like that, don’t you?”

You did know that, didn’t you? Chan had always been so attentive and caring towards you ever since your first day at kindergarten together. Holding your hands all the way up to class, tending to your physical injuries, lending his shoulders to cry on, memorised all your allergies and actively watched out for you, never letting you walk on the road side, crossing roads with you as if he were protecting a child, having your orders from all cafés and restaurants at the back of his mind and even healing all your mental scars, all but that which were related to him. How could you not love him when he made you feel like you were on top of the world, like you two were the only ones for each other, like he reciprocated your feelings? These little things were what actually attracted you to him.

Only to go on dates with people that could even give supermodels run for their money. His dates made you realise that you would never be close to his ideal type, you’d never be what he wants in life, thereby discouraging you from confessing whenever you mustered up some courage.

“Yeah you’re being unfair to all of us. Do you know how much __ missed you? Kept asking about you all the damn time.”

You glared at Felix with so much heat that he visibly squirmed at his place, beside Seungmin, who though had a blank look on his face, smacked his arm as if gesturing to stop his nonsense.

“The last time I remember, it was Chan’s minions, who were hassling __ for his whereabouts, Felix, wasn’t it?”

Changbin, as always, your saviour took your side and effectively shut the boys up, who were clearly enjoying your plight.

“Ah! My bad, guys. But what’s so wrong with my girl missing me, Bin?”

You jerked up from his hold to look at him but he didn’t let your hands escape his as he stared back at you with a playful glint in his warm eyes. You could hear a lot of ‘oohs’ and giggles around you but you couldn’t care less because he was doing it again; giving you hope that you guys were something more, only to turn around and switch to the same old best friends forever shit.

“No no there’s absolutely nothing wrong with YOUR girl missing you.”

You could hear Hyunjin’s annoying drawl but you held your breath, waiting for him to do just exactly what you expected of him, you knew him better than he knew you after all, heck you knew him better than he knew himself and you knew you couldn’t be wrong about him, even though you kept hoping against hope. You wanted to be wrong tonight.

“Exactly! So stop teasing my best friend about it.”

Yup! There it was; the tag that you once wore with honour gradually turning into a weight holding you down. The giggles quietened as your shoulders sunk and you relaxed back into the couch, you didn’t know what’s on everyone’s mind but you surely expected it to happen once again because you also knew that Chan had always enjoyed attention, you just didn’t expect to be one of his enjoyment sources as well but you slowly learnt that maybe you were too. He liked knowing that he had your heart on the palm of his hands; knowing that he was the only one for you, finding comfort in the fact that no matter what he did and no matter where he went, he could always come back home to you. And you would take him back with open arms, like a fool. Always.

But you had enough. You thought tonight you’ll tell him of your feelings and be done with it, once and for all. You knew he won’t accept them but at least you’d get your closure with his rejection and move on to a life without the hopes of Chan as your boyfriend.

“Then start being my best friend properly. I can’t be the only one in this friendship anymore, could I?”

You knew the weight of your words surprised not only Chan but also the rest of the group, who now looked alert and uncomfortable, knowing it wasn’t a jest anymore for you. Chan’s eyes widened with disbelief did nothing to deter yours filled with determination.

“Baby don’t be like that. For once, think about me and you’d understand why I was gone for a while. Please don’t make a scene tonight, when all of us are here and so happy together; when I’m so happy after a long time.”

His words, as much as had the powers to heal me, also had the powers to destroy me from within. How could he so subtly call me selfish? I don’t think about him? If only he still cared about me he’d know that all I ever thought about was him. Did he also imply that he was so unhappy but all I did was ignore him and make a scene out of everything? I didn’t listen to him? Hah! If he wanted, I could recite everything he’s ever said to me, word by word. That’s how much I paid attention to him.

“That was a little too harsh, wasn’t it Chan hyung? Why don’t you just get straight to the point and save us all the misery of your oh-so-unhappy-life?”

Seungmin, as always the blunt Angel that he was, said with a finality. When all Chan saw was the disbelief on everyone’s face and understood that he disappointed everyone with the choice of his words, he knew he took it too far.

“Okay! I guess it’s time to tell you all. You remember the hot girl I hooked up with in that downtown bar six months ago?”

Of course you did, even if nobody else did because you remember feeling like a 16 year old heartbroken kid all over again when you found Chan making out with a beautiful stranger when you turned to find him after a quick toilet break.

“Well we caught up again six months back and decided to see where it leads us. We took a break off to Jeju and damn I had the time of my life. I think it’s safe to say we’re ready to date now. I don’t think I’ve been happier in my life ever.”

Six months since Chan disappeared on you, leaving you wondering if you did something wrong. Six months since he left you and started thinking of a life with someone else, without informing you. Granted you didn’t have to know everything about his life but he couldn’t even tell you he’d be gone, as a best friend?

Oh! How pathetic you were, truly. When all your happiness only ever relied on him, he didn’t even think you had ever made him feel joyous. Were you jealous, angry, hopeless or heartbroken? You didn’t know; maybe all of it, in that order. Suddenly 24 years of friendship felt suffocating to you, useless even, if he couldn’t share his whereabouts and woes with you.

“Wah! You’re so cool dude. You got two of the coldest and the most gorgeous chicks of our college crazy in love with you. Damn!”

And of course Hyunjin was going to praise Chan, as if he had saved the world. Even Jeongin looked scandalised with the amount of bullshit that came out of Hyunjin’s mouth, then it was fair enough that Minho almost strangled him.

“Wait! Two? Who’s the other one.”

Hah! What a funny guy he was; couldn’t even keep quiet for once and let you silently grovel in your misery. Thankfully though, the chime of your phone from a colleague gave you an excuse to escape. Of course you weren’t going to actually answer the phone because you didn’t think you could form words without a tremor in your voice.

But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from going haywire now. Should you have told him sooner? Was it your fault? Were you not obvious enough? Of course he wouldn’t actually ever pick you, who were you after all? He had so many better choices, someone he would be proud to have by his side. You were never enough, you had always known then why did it hurt so much?

“You can stop blaming yourself now.”

Minho’s sweet voice tinged with sternness infiltrated your thoughts as you saw him take a seat beside you on the patio bench. You took deep breaths, trying to hold your emotions.

“You once told me it was okay to cry and let out my feelings in front of you because you’d never judge me for it. Tonight I ask the same of you. I think you’ve tortured yourself enough.”

An exhausted sigh followed by a stream of tears finally escaped you as you let your emotions wash over you and rest your head on Minho’s shoulder. Never had you ever thought that someone other than Chan would ever be able to comfort you, least of all Minho.

Minho wasn’t the most expressive person, even if you could swear that he was the one who felt the most emotions-the most hurt, the happiest, the most excited and even the angriest. You knew that he checked his emotions so damn much because sometimes they drove him, in his words, insane. While you knew he had your back as did, you his, he wasn’t your closest friend. You had the least amount of memories with him, you both were a weird bunch to be honest.

“This was bound to happen one day then why does it hurt so much?”

You didn’t even think he heard your whisper but he surprised you, not that you even expected a reply.

“Because feelings can’t be helped and you felt too many of them for just one person all your life.”

You buried your face in his shoulders as your cries turned into silent sobs and his arms tightened around you. You could swear it was the safest you’d felt in a while, dare you say like the comfort of a home and you wondered why Minho had never held you before for you swore his hug was soothing.

“I think it’s better this way.”

Your words prompted him to make distance so as to look at your face but you weren’t ready to look at his face, afraid of his judgement.

“He’s perfect in every sense and he seeks perfection in every sense while I can never be even close to perfection nor have I ever strived to be. You know those main characters of a movie who’s rich, good looking, charming, got a gorgeous troublesome ex but somehow ends up with a character that’s completely opposite of them? Chan is that main character to me. I think that even if I confessed to him and he had accepted me I’d always be anxious, trying my best to keep him in my life, make sure he’d never grow bored of me, be his perfect other half and that would’ve ultimately killed the person within me that he liked, or if ever liked.”

You gave a bitter smile at your fate and walked away from the bench while staring at the moon that looked so pretty yet unattainable, just like Chan. So close yet so far.

“He never deserved you any way. You deserve so much better and more than he could give you.”

You let out a sarcastic scoff at Minho’s words as you felt him coming closer to you.

“And who said that?”

“I’m saying that. Changbin says that. Heck, even Chan’s minions know that. If this isn’t enough for you, then all those roses in your locker say that.”

You were sure there was a frown on your face at his reply. Maybe Minho was more delusional than you because no way in hell so many people would ever think that way. You appreciated his efforts to make you feel better but he didn’t have to lie to your face. All of a sudden, you felt his fingers on your jaw, pulling you to face him as you stood wide-eyed in surprise.

“You never noticed these things because you were so busy noticing what Chan needed. You never noticed those roses and letters in your locker because you were focused on his; you rejected all prom dates because you were busy moping as he picked his date; you never noticed how the entire college stoped to look back at you as you entered the campus because you were always focused on what Chan was saying. You never noticed how much I love you because you were busy loving him.”

The only words that managed to knock your breath out after this sudden proximity between you two were the last few words that escaped from him as his eyes softened at your now misty ones while his fingers kept caressing your cheeks as if to ground you to the present.

“Minho!”

And a soft whisper of his name was all you could manage to let out. You were sure that your heart had pretty much skipped an entire rhythm right now. How could he be in love with you? He never even gave any signs. He was always so distant that you even thought he disliked you when you first spoke to him. He rested his head on yours as both of you closed your eyes, feeling an ecstasy that was never felt before.

“I’ve been in love with you ever since I first saw you in the college cafeteria. It was impossible to not notice you when you were practically glowing in my eyes; so pretty, had such a sweet giggle, spoke so passionately about how Toy Story 1 was the best movie and other sequels should’ve never been made, cried over a hurt kitten all in one day of knowing you; all these things made me want to wrap you in a blanket burrito and never let go.”

You let out a little chuckle as your grip tightened on his shirt and more tears escaped you.

“I wanted to approach you, tell you I wanted to date you but you were clearly not interested in anything romantic if it wasn’t with Chan so I settled for being friends. I thought it was better to have some of you than none of you. You said that Chan was the main character in your story but you were the main character in mine.”

This time you didn’t stop the sob that came out of you, thinking about how much you hurt him unintentionally. You also couldn’t stop thinking about a possibility of all that could’ve been if you took off the rose tinted glasses through which you saw Chan, even once.

“Maybe this is my punishment Minho. I kept hurting you, just as much as I kept getting hurt. I kept blaming Chan in my head but what’s the difference between him and I, when I did the same to you?”

He immediately shook his head and held you by the shoulders with so much resolve that it compelled you to stop rambling and listen to him.

“There’s a lot of differences between the two of you. You never gave me any mixed signals, you never played push and pull with my emotions, you always knew what you wanted; I was the one hurting because I couldn’t let go of you. Our situation is different than Chan and yours. How were you to know that I felt this way about you when I kept my distance? But you’ve to understand that I was reserved because I was scared about the intensity of my love towards you, even when we had so much space between us. What would’ve happened if I didn’t push myself out of the frame? Would that have been better for the two of us?"

As you looked at his doe eyes that reflected the depth of his soul, you knew for sure, that this man right here would’ve been able to break through all your walls of false hopes and easily made you love him, perhaps more than you’ve ever loved anyone.

“Maybe!”

“Maybe!”

Both of you nodded and whispered in a silent agreement but refused to let of each other, needing to believe that this moment was true, that it was really happening.

“Then would you wait a little more for me?”

You could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes that he squashed with confusion, not wanting to get disappointed for hoping about something that he long gave up on without even trying but you were determined to not hurt and get hurt anymore. Maybe this was a new beginning for you, for him and for Chan.

“Wait for what?”

You took a deep breath and clutched his hand that was still unknowingly caressing the back of your neck.

“Please wait for me to get over my heartbreak and let me get to know you as something more than just friends. I know what I’m asking of you is a bit selfish but I don’t want to treat you as a rebound, as a replacement of what I couldn’t have, as an outlet of my heartbreak. I want us to be real and our beginning shouldn’t be formed on the basis of my negative baggage. You deserve the best and while I may not be the best, I want to be at least my best for you; for us.”

His beaded eyes shone with something that you couldn’t really place but you knew that you could travel to the end of the world if it meant that his eyes would shine like that.

“I’ve waited for you when there wasn’t any hope or reason to. Imagine how long I could wait for you now that you’ve given me a reason to.”

Yes, you were definitely a fool to not notice this pure hearted man who might not have stood by your side but always around you, silently protecting you and loving you without expecting anything in return. But what you did notice was how you liked this kind of crying where you couldn’t even stop smiling at each other, especially when his bunny smile looked so endearing on him.

And as you both wrapped each other around in an intimate lovers’ hold you finally felt contentment, as if the last piece of a huge complicated puzzle finally snapped in place. You pressed your nose in his shirt, letting his scent comfort you and could already feel yourself wanting to drift off to somewhere only you and him existed.

While it may have been harder to not love Chan, you think it may be criminal to not love Minho.

What you both didn’t notice was a pair of eyes in the corner of the yard, observing you two since the beginning, overwhelmed but feeling a crack in his heart that he never even imagined he would. Were new beginnings supposed to make your heart twist like that?

Read On Wattpad

©️stayinhellevator2023: Please don’t repost, translate or copy my work on any other platform.

#stray kids ff #skz ff #stray kids imagines #stray kids x gender neutral reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan ff #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan angst #lee know ff #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #Tara writes #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #minho angst #minho x reader #minho fluff #chan angst #chan fluff #chan x reader #skz imagines #skz fic #sih writes #tara writes skz #tara writes

[jennay]

I'm Fine

Request: Hello sweet bean! I'm a relatively new fan of yours and have loved everything you've written about Noah thus far. The last one I read had me thinking of a request? I was wondering what Noah would do if he found out his girlfriend was having an overwhelming day and wanted to cheer her up? Like, there was a mountain of small inconveniences that kept piling up and she was shutting down from her own anxiety

An: Thank you for calling me sweet bean. It's literally my new favorite thing to be called. I hope you enjoy! I tried!

Noah Sebastian master List

Warnings: floof anxiety?

You woke up from a nightmare that doomed your day. Fear and panic gripped your heart. Things went downhill when you found out your alarm had failed, forcing you to hurry to work; your coffee maker had malfunctioned, depriving you of your caffeine boost; and Noah had snatched the last of your favorite breakfast bars last night without letting you know.

You hoped things would improve as you finally got your car to start after several attempts. But you were mistaken.

You got to work and nearly died from a heart attack when you saw the pile of documents and the list of appointments that awaited you. You felt overwhelmed by the work your secretary assigned you as if you were a superhuman lawyer who could handle everything simultaneously.

You wished you could walk away from it all but knew that was not an option. Being a lawyer was already stressful and demanding, and dealing with this extra workload was not making it any easier.

You needed to talk with Amanda, your secretary, and see if some of these could be moved around.

You walk into her office and greet her with a smile; you don't want to be mean or upset her. "Hey," You say, sitting at the chair by her desk. "So I need a favor." You lean over and point to the screen. "Can you please call these two clients and ask if they can come in tomorrow? I have the Taylors coming in at 9 a.m., and the meeting always runs over the scheduled time. If you can start booking them out for at least two hours, that would be amazing."

She nods her head, apologizing, "I'm sorry. I know you've said that before. I'll write it down."

"That's alright, don't worry about it. I just need at least an hour between each meeting so that I can be ready and not rush things, but the Taylors are always here for a long time; they're very thorough and want to know everything that's going on.." You sighed and rubbed your temples. "I'll be in my office if you need me. Please let me know if anything comes up."

You sit at your desk, reviewing papers and bracing yourself for the chaos people will bring you today.

Sometimes, it takes a toll on you, especially when your life is not going smoothly. You glance at the clock and see you have a few minutes before your clients arrive. You decide to text Noah, who always knows how to cheer you up.

Can I come home already? I miss you and could use some aggressive snuggles right now. This day has been shit already.

You smile when he texts you back almost immediately. You know he is an early riser, but you are still impressed by how fast he replies. He must have sensed your urgency.

I'll be here when you get home, baby. You can have all the cuddles you want. I love you. You're a badass; you'll kick the shit out of the day. Ok?

You feel thankful for Noah. He is the best thing that's happened to you. He’s supportive, caring, funny, sexy, and makes you feel loved and appreciated.

On days like this, you wish you could shrink him to a smaller size, put him in your pocket, and carry him around. Whenever you needed him, he would pop out and say words of encouragement and sweet things to you. Your life would be so much easier with a pocket-sized Noah.

You put your phone in the drawer as your office door opens, and Amanda's head pokes through the gap. She is your receptionist and assistant, and she helps you manage your schedule and appointments.

"Your 9 o'clock is here," she says.

You nod your head, "Go ahead and send them in."

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for another session. You hope Noah's words will give you the strength and patience to get through the day.

You storm into the house, slamming the door behind you. You are overwhelmed by emotions. Your hair is soaked from the rain, and your mascara runs down your cheeks. You have had the worst day ever, and all you want is Noah's warm embrace and gentle words. "Noah, are you home?" You call out, your voice cracking.

You hear him reply from the living room. "Yeah, I'm here. Did you take a cab home?"

You can't contain your feelings any longer. You let out a loud sob, toss your bags aside, and hide your face in your hands, crying hysterically.

"Oh, babe," Noah says, getting up and hurrying to you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his chest, where you press your face and cry even harder.

He kisses your hair and strokes your back gently. "Shh, it's ok." He whispers. "I'm here for you."

You shake your head. "I'm over it. Can you just put me out of my misery and put a pillow over my head?"

He chuckles softly, "No, no, no. Come on. I have something for you." He holds your hand and leads you to the dining room, where you see a beautiful bouquet of roses in a vase on the table. He has also ordered Chinese food, your favorite cuisine. You notice your favorite liquor on the counter with other ingredients, indicating that Noah plans to make cocktails for you tonight.

As you gasp, your hands instinctively cover your mouth. Noah's thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze you.

You wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle your face into his chest, feeling his warmth and comfort. "Thank you," you whisper.

Noah kisses the top of your head and rubs your back gently. "Anything for you, princess." He pulls away, and you look up at him, seeing love and kindness in his eyes. "I'm sorry you had such a tough day," he says, kissing your forehead. "Go relax. I'll take care of everything." He pauses briefly, "You're getting a nice back rub tonight, too." He says, holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers.

You smile, walking back to your room and changing into the bathroom, where you wash your face to remove all the smeared makeup.

Sometimes, you wondered how Noah could look at you so lovingly when you look as rough as you did.

After changing, you return to the dining room, where Noah waits patiently. He smiles at you, happy to see you approach. He stands up and scoots out your chair. "Come sit."

You smile at the gesture, excited for the food and fruity mixed drink in front of you. "God, I love you," you say, taking a long sip of your beverage.

Noah laughs, "Me or the drink?"

You lift your eyes to his, "Both, but mostly you."

He chuckles while taking a bite of his food. "So," he says, putting his fork down, "What happened today?"

Your shoulders drop, remembering the annoyance of the day you didn't

want to talk about every little thing, from the coffee pot to your clients not being very understanding and your car breaking down. "Just casual bullshit." You sip your drink, "My car is in the parking lot at work…"

Noah groans, "Again? I thought Folio looked at it?"

"He did, but he's not a miracle worker, and I'm honestly not sure there's any hope for that thing. It's old." You say, forcing a smile. "Let's talk about you."

Noah's eyebrows knit together in frustration as he says, "You always do this." He laughs, but you can hear the edge in his voice. He leans back in his chair and looks at you pleadingly. "I want to hear about your day; in therapy, they say it's good to talk about things. It helps you process and cope with them." He reaches for your hand across the table, his eyes softening.

You shake your head, feeling affection for him. You stand up and gather the empty plates, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, my love, you're not my therapist." You lean down and kiss his cheek, feeling his stubble against your lips. "We can talk about it tomorrow if you want to. But right now I just want you as Noah. Ok?" You giggle as you walk away from him, carrying the dishes to the sink. You drop them in, deciding to deal with them later. You can feel the effects of the alcohol you had with dinner. Your face is warm, and your worries seem distant and trivial. You feel happy and relaxed as you walk back to Noah.

You stand before him, smiling with rosy cheeks and a gentle gaze. "I really do appreciate you." You say sincerely, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins and stands up, holding you close. He takes your hand and leads you to the living room, where he sits on the couch and pulls you down to sit before him. He gently lifts your shirt over your head and tosses it aside, handing you the throw blanket to cover your chest with, knowing you'd get cold. He places his hands on your back and starts to massage your tense muscles with gentle pressure. He draws circles on your skin with his fingers, making you sigh in contentment.

You feel a knot of tension in your chest and decide to share what's been bothering you the most today. "The Taylors said I'm a bad lawyer and won't be using me anymore." You say, finally opening up to him. "They accused me of being incompetent and unprofessional just because I refused to lie for them in court."

Noah's hands freeze for a second, and he curses under his breath. "Dicks." He says before resuming his soothing motions. "You don't need them anyway. You did the right thing, babe. You have integrity and ethics, unlike them."

You let out a deep breath, feeling a bit of relief from his words and touch. "I do, though. I've been working with them for so long, and I hate saying this because I'm not just in it for the money, but they were a huge source of my income. They paid me well, and they had a lot of connections in the industry."

Noah wraps his arms around you and pulls at you, signaling he wants you in his lap. "There'll be others, you don't need people who treat you like shit." He says softly in your ear. "You're an amazing lawyer, and you have a great reputation. You'll find better clients who appreciate you and respect you."

You smile weakly and lean your head on his chest. "That's most of my clientele." You say with a laugh. "Most of them are greedy, selfish, and dishonest. That's why I'm always so thankful to come home to you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Noah kisses the top of your head and whispers, "I love you and I'm always here for you. No matter what."

You smile up at him, feeling his warm breath on your face as you nuzzle close to his neck. He wraps the blanket tighter around your bare chest, making you feel safe and loved. "I know. I feel it, and I'm grateful for it." You whisper, letting him know you appreciate his presence in your life.

He leans his head on yours, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He kisses your hair softly, making you sigh in contentment. "We'll get everything figured out with your car and your job, and I won't eat your breakfast bars anymore." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

You laugh against his neck, feeling his pulse quicken under your lips. "You can eat all the breakfast bars you want if my nights end this perfectly." You say, looking into his eyes and seeing the love and happiness reflected there.

He smiles back at you, pulling you closer for a passionate kiss.

You melt into him, forgetting about all your worries and troubles. All that matters is him and this moment.

You feel his hand caress your cheek, then move down to your waist. He lifts you gently, carrying you to the bedroom. You wrap your legs around him, holding him tight.

He whispers in your ear, "I love you so fucking much."

You smile, feeling the same way. You kiss him again, ready to show him how much you love him.

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady

#noah sebastian x y/n #noah sebastian oneshot #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for not noticing I hurt my friend's feelings?

I (24F) had a somewhat close friend (24F) whom I've known since highschool but only got closer to recently. I've had a friend crush on her forever and apparently she did too. We share a lot of interests and we're both neurodivergent (I'm diagnosed with adhd, and we're almost certain she has autism). We also sort of bonded over a shared trauma -- basically we got two-timed several years ago by a really abusive asshole.

Anyway something happened a couple of months ago and I feel our friendship has gone downhill since then. It was multiple occasions really: what would happen is that I would say something impulsively, and she would misinterpret it and get sensitive about it, we talk it out, I apologize, and we move on. But one time it was a bit too much that i burst into tears while texting her because I felt I really hurt her and I felt that all my friendships will go downhill because whenever I get comfortable with someone I just completely lose my filter and end up hurting them. What happened that day was that we were hanging out and a guy apparently told her something sexist but I didn't hear him. She came to me to complain and I sort of brushed it off because from the way she said it happened it just seemed he was vaguely pointing out something but I later understood that I was just wrong. Then her dress had a tiny hole which I pointed out to her in front of my boyfriend rather impulsively and she got really upset about that. Later on I was telling her about a book I'd read that had great autism representation that didn't have the character just be -- and here I did the dinosaur arms thing (no offense whatsoever to people who do that; I know full well it's a common thing, I was just saying the character had more to him than just that). The problem is that she didn't hear the part where I was talking about a book character because we were changing tables in a crowded cafe and I was just talking non-stop because that's what I do and she thought I just did the dinosaur arms out of nowhere and got offended but didn't say so except over text later and just looked unwell for the rest of the next half hour before she suddenly excused herself and left. That day she texted me about all of these things and we talked it out and I pretended that I was not literally having a meltdown all while apologizing (but not before I tried to plead my case a bit). This all happened on the same day, but before that there were other occasions too. One time she would be talking about something, then I change the subject, then she'd say I know you didn't mean to but I wanted you to give a reply to what I just said. Another time we had a particularly bad exam which I did okay on, but she was telling about how she botched it. I couldn't tell from her face how serious it was and I gave her what i thought was a sympathetic smile (which she later told me was a weird smile) because I really didn't know what to say and then turned away to look for my boyfriend to check on him as well. She told me that day that she felt that I brushed her off when she was having a difficult time and didn't console her enough.

It's just multiple things that made me feel that I need to be more on guard around her for her sake. She moved to another city recently and even before that we were texting less and less. I even asked her if she was upset about the cafe day and she said no since I apologized and we talked it out, but I could feel something in our relationship changed. It just felt like such a shame because I felt a great connection between us and I have massive difficulties when it comes to making friends. She was sort of my last friend that I felt close to aside from my boyfriend, and now I can't help thinking that the problem has always been me.

Sorry if the post was too long and sorry for the sob story lol

#aita #am i the asshole

[greynatomy]

Dear Scarlett…

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

First Scarlett fic. I’ve actually had this in my drafts for a long time and discovered it again today.

Hope you like it and let me know what you think!

-grey

———

“I want a divorce.”

“You- what?” You said, shocked at the words that came out of your wife’s mouth.

“I don’t love you anymore!” Scarlett shouted, grabbing all her packed bags. “And you couldn’t even give me the one thing that I wanted!”

“Well, I’m sorry that isn’t good enough to carry a child! You could’ve done it, but you’re too busy with everything else.”

“Oh, shut up and quit whining! I am famous, a celebrity and you’re just a fucking musician who hasn’t even done anything in years! You don’t do shit! You’re probably just with me because of my money and to get your name out there!”

“I’ve known you for years and not once have I took advantage of your money, even way before we started dating, up until now! And your fame? Really? How am I using you to get my name out there when literally no one knows who the fuck I am or that you’re even fucking married. Or in a relationship for that matter cause you wanted to keep us, ME, a secret. So fuck you for that.” You said, walking up the stairs into your shared bedroom that Scarlett hasn’t slept in with you for weeks.

“I regret ever meeting you! Marrying you was a mistake! I’ll have the divorce papers sent soon.” With that, Scarlett walked out, slamming the door behind her. Once she’s gone, you collapsed to the floor next to the door, not being able to hold the tears in any longer.

You and Scarlett have known each other for years. You helped her throughout her divorce from her ex husband and raising Rose. She confessed her feelings for your after two years, dated for two years, married for four years. It was amazing at first, but everything went downhill after your first miscarriage.

You both hadn’t lost hope and tried again a year later, but after that second miscarriage, that’s when Scarlett started to pull away from you. You both really wanted to have a baby, but your body couldn’t handle it and Scarlett has been getting lots of movie opportunities where being pregnant was not something she could do at the time so you tried one last time and all the tests showed negative for a baby.

Scarlett gave up, she stopped being affectionate towards you, stopped sleeping in the same bed as you, just stopped acting like a wife while you hoped there was a small chance that she at least still liked you.

1.5 years later

A knock on the door and the ring of the doorbell woke a couple up from their sleep. Both not expecting anyone this early in the morning. The woman gets out of bed, followed by her fiancé.

Looking through the peephole, she sees no one, so she opens the door, looking around, still not seeing anything, until a small coo is heard.

She looks down seeing a baby in carrier with a duffel bag next to them. She grabs the carrier while her fiancé grabs the bag and brings them inside, locking the door.

“What are you doing here, huh?” She asks the baby in a soft voice.

“There’s just a bunch of toys, frozen milk, and folders in here.”

Putting the baby carrier on the coffee table with the baby still in it, the woman sees a piece of paper wedged by the baby.

“Wait. There’s a paper here, don’t open those ones yet.”

Opening up the folded paper, the woman starts to read.

“Dear Scarlett…”

#scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson imagines #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #scarlett johansson imagine

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Putting Roots In My Dreamland

Chapter Three of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: here’s the Jamie I promised :) another shoutout to @buckychristwrites for helping me out when my brain shuts down

When you wake up on Sunday, body sore and head aching and mouth dry, you vow to never drink again. You wonder what had possessed you to make plans for today when you knew exactly what your night was going to be like as soon as your locker room celebration started. At some point, everyone had made their way from Nelson Road to a club, and it was all downhill from there.

Luckily for you, Jamie was in the same boat as you and was hopefully regretting his decisions just as much as you were. Though, knowing how unfair the world is, you’re sure he feels fresh as a daisy right now. He’s probably been up for hours and had time to make himself some sort of healthy, superfood smoothie before doing an intense workout followed by a shower with a complex hair and skincare routine, because he was insufferable like that.

You, meanwhile, were wondering how you’re able to stand on your own, let alone play a full football match. You’re reminded of the creeping end of your career, coming much faster than it should, so you throw yourself into the shower just so you have something else to think about. The warm water soothes your muscles and your overactive brain until you’re actually looking forward to spending the day with Jamie.

The shower takes longer than it typically would, mainly due to how long you just stand under the stream of water without doing anything, simply letting the water wash over your body as you psych yourself up for the day ahead of you. It wasn’t that Jamie made you nervous, but spending time with new people, getting to know new friends, was always a little nerve inducing for you. You and Jamie had only spoken a handful of times and never for any longer than five minutes, so the thought of spending a whole day with just him made your stomach flip.

After spending far too long in the shower, you check your phone to see a message from Mackie, along with plenty of pictures. You groan as you scroll through them, confronting your decisions from the night before. They aren’t bad pictures, and you’re surprised at how good of a photographer Mackie is even though she had just as much to drink as you did.

In all of them, you look exuberantly happy, your mouth wide open in a grin or mid-laugh with a drink in one hand and the other slung around the shoulder of a teammate or one of the boys. You’ve been happy, but it’s been a while since you’ve seen it, since you were able to look at your own face and see the joy so clearly written on it. Even just looking back makes you smile, until you get a text from Jamie and your stomach fills with nerves.

He’s sent you an address, asking if you want to meet at a coffee shop around noon so he can show you around Richmond, and you don’t even remember giving him your number.

Can’t wait! You reply, even though you’d love nothing more than to wait and spend the rest of your day lounging in front of your TV and eating nothing but comfort foods. Instead, you finish getting ready before standing in front of your closet and taking far too long to settle on an outfit. You know you’ve already met and that you’ve literally tackled the man, but you still want to make a good first impression outside of Nelson Road, outside of whatever you said or did last night.

All you hope is that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much.

You decide to walk to the cafe, knowing the fresh air will help you calm your nerves more than driving on the confusing London streets would. To your shock, Jamie is already sitting there when you arrive with fifteen minutes to spare. Even from a distance, you can see the way he alternates between checking the time on his phone and pushing his hair out of his face, the headband he wears at Nelson Road nowhere to be seen.

When he finally spots you coming towards him, he launches himself out of his chair and rushes forward to meet you halfway. He’s wearing dark colored pants and a nice button-up instead of the matching tracksuit you’d been expecting and looks nowhere near as hungover as you feel. He looks like he’s been up since the sunrise and went on a run just because he wanted to, and it makes you momentarily hate him just a little until he smiles at you and you’re reminded that he’s really just a boy who happens to be a professional footballer.

Pleasantries are exchanged as you both take a seat, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift from the menu in your hands to his face, the way he’s pouting slightly as he thinks and pushes his hair away from his face in what you assume is a nervous habit, something to keep his hands busy. It’s endearing in a way that makes you want to stand and run and never leave your house again.

After the two of you order, the conversation stills and the silence becomes awkward and you have no idea what to say. It’s not like you can ask him about himself, because your guilty pleasure is trashy tabloids and you’ve read more of his interviews with well-known papers than you’d like to admit. Jamie doesn’t seem all that eager to break the silence either and there’s been a furrow in his brow since you sat down, so you take it upon yourself to get the ball rolling.

“Thanks for offering to show me around, I really appreciate it,” you say, setting down your utensils as you finish eating, “I feel like I haven’t done anything except train since I got here.” And really, you weren’t wrong; you’d gone to the grocery store and stopped at a coffee shop with Mackie after practice one day, but other than that you haven’t been anywhere except Nelson Road and your house, and you’ve already been in Richmond for more than a month.

“Yeah,” he nods along as you speak before he adds, “I’ve been here a lot longer than you and I still don’t really know Richmond that well.” You can’t help the confusion that clouds your face as the man who offered to show you around Richmond admits that he doesn’t know the area and Jamie notices immediately so he scrambles to add, “I know a lot of places! Just not everywhere, but I’ve got my favorites.”

It’s becoming more and more difficult not to smile when you’re around him, there’s just something about him that makes you feel so open in a way you haven’t experienced since you met Mackie. He’s attentive, listening to everything you have to say with his full attention, nodding along as you answer questions about your favorite things and what you miss from back home and how you’re liking London so far.

It’s obvious that he genuinely cares about your answers, that he wants to hear what you have to say, and you can’t remember the last time anyone paid attention to you like that and it makes your skin prickle in a way that isn’t completely unpleasant.

The two of you start your tour around Richmond, questions and stories being volleyed back and forth as you walk along the streets. Jamie contributes to your conversation and he answers all your questions openly, but it’s clear that he’d rather have the focus be on you and the majority of his contributions are nods and “mhm”s thrown in when appropriate.

You can’t help but to wonder if this is how he acts with everybody or if it’s just because you’ve really only just met or if he’s regretting offering to show you around Richmond. You always make it a point not to talk about yourself, wanting to keep the focus on anything other than you and your life, and even though you’re not spilling out your deepest darkest secrets, you still feel exposed in ways you hadn’t expected.

“I love all the girls, and the coaches, and Keeley and Rebecca are great,” you say after Jamie asks how you’re liking Richmond so far. You know that’s probably not what he meant by that question but you can’t fathom opening up to him any other way, definitely not in the middle of a Sunday in a public park while you’re still a little hungover.

The last person you’d really, truly opened up to, shared all your deepest fears and hopes and dreams with was Mackie, and you’d been friends for almost five years now. The idea of exposing yourself, of someone truly getting to know you made your skin crawl, despite how much you’re coming to enjoy being around Jamie.

“Yeah, Keeley’s awesome, she’s one of me best mates,” he replies and you’re glad that the conversation has shifted away from you and onto someone you’d much rather talk about.

Jamie’s tour ends up being less like a tour and more like the two of you aimlessly walking around Richmond with him vaguely pointing out restaurants and shops that he likes, but you don’t mind at all. It’s much nicer than you’d expected just to talk with Jamie, and you find yourself looking forward to spending more time with him while also feeling terrified of seeming childish if you were to ask him to hang out again.

Despite your football playing strategies, you’d never been one to be exceptionally forward or confident in your personal life, so even just the idea of spending a day with Jamie seemed unbelievable. Although, he really was nothing like you’d expected.

The Jamie you were spending time with was considerate and a little awkward and told awful jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, and the more time you spent with him the more relaxed you became. By the time you find yourself in front of your house, you’re debating whether or not you should lie and say it isn’t your place just so you can keep walking, and you can spend a little more time talking with Jamie.

“This is me,” you say instead, throwing an arm backwards to point at your front door, “I had a really nice time today, thanks for showing me around.” You try not to smile too wide, try not to seem like a child who’s overly excited about making a new friend even though on the inside you’re practically jumping up and down.

Once you’d gotten past the fact that you were talking with the Jamie Tartt, football star, you were really just overjoyed at the idea of finally having a friend that wasn’t just a teammate, someone who you’d need to see outside of training and who’d drag you out of your house to experience life.

“Yeah, of course,” Jamie responds, his hands hovering out in front of him before he settles them into his pockets, “we’ll have to do something again sometime.”

You can’t help but to smile at Jamie and how uncharacteristically shy he seems, but when he notices you smiling, he beams back at you. You say your goodbyes before heading inside, internally debating whether or not you should have asked if he wanted to come in.

——

As Jamie watches your front door close, he takes his first deep breath of the day. It seemed like he was held together by nothing but nerves all morning, and now that he’s heading home he can finally relax. He’d been so worried about saying something dumb that he’d barely talked, choosing instead to ask you question after question to keep the conversation on any topic except himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share with you, because he really did, he just couldn’t risk ruining what was shaping up to be a comfortable friendship with his own insecurities and fears. And, he could listen to you talk for hours and hours no matter what you were saying. You could read him the dictionary and he’d sit with rapt attention the entire time, overjoyed just to be near you.

He’d been worried he’d come off too strong and scare you away, but it seemed as if you enjoyed yourself as much as he did. He can’t help the little bubble of pride that fills his chest over the idea that you enjoyed a day he’d planned, enjoyed spending time with him enough to say you wanted to meet again soon.

You'd been so different from how you were at the Dog Track, than how you are on the pitch, but Jamie doesn’t mind at all. He wants to learn everything about you, all your quirks and fears and everything you love.

Being around you feels like being punched in the chest, and Jamie can’t remember ever feeling this way about anyone, not when he met Roy Kent for the first time or when he told Keeley he loved her, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a new feeling, and it scares him a little, but it’s not a bad feeling at all. It’s like he can’t breathe around you, but he’d rather struggle for breath than never see you again.

Ever since that moment when your eyes locked your first day at Nelson Road, Jamie hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. He remembers checking Instagram every morning and night until Keeley posted the women’s team roster and then he spent hours scrolling through your page.

At first, he’d felt like a creep, like he was intruding on something private even though your page was public and you’re a professional athlete. He was careful not to like any of your old photos, careful not to do anything that would send you a notification that he was spending hours scrolling down your profile.

There were photos of you and Mackie and the rest of the US Women’s Team, there were professional photos of you at events or at photo shoots for brand deals, there were action shots of you on the pitch, but his favorite photos were the ones you’d taken yourself, selfies and group photos and pictures of your travels.

If anyone was around, Jamie would have been beyond embarrassed when he realized he was smiling as he scrolled through your photos, taking in those little aspects of you that he hadn’t gotten the chance to experience yet in your minimal contact with each other. Even more embarrassing to him was the fact that he didn’t follow you for another week, needing time to work up the nerve as if it was outlandish that he’d follow you on your public account, as if all the other players on his team weren’t already following you.

He just loved getting to see the world, see Richmond and Nelson Road from your eyes.

There’s something about you that makes him want to learn everything about you, that makes him want to spend every moment of his free time with you, that makes him want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he knows some of his teammates are starting to pick up on it, Sam even going so far as to call him out on his starry-eyed staring.

All he hopes is that you don’t pick up on it.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @kno-way-home @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander @skewedcherries

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #there’s nothing like this

[dianeandrews]

As of today, I am 612 days (a little over 20 months) sober. The time between these photos is almost exactly 2 years, so the photo on the left was about 4 months before I finally dropped the bottle. I was drinking HEAVILY at that point. As you can probably tell, my entire body was quite literally soaked in booze.

Now that I've been sober nearly 2 years, I have done a LOT of healing, reflecting, soul searching and very painful emotional and mental growing. In that growth, I have learned some very important things about myself.

One of the biggest things that bothered me about my insane level of drinking was "why?". I was finally in a relationship with someone who OBVIOUSLY loved me for exactly who I was/am. I was doing well in basically all aspects of life. So, why was I drinking my life away and continually searching for that numbness?

It has taken me 20 months, but I think I finally have a big part of the answer: I was afraid of being happy.

The last time I thought I was happy had been 22 years prior. I was with a man who I thought was "the one". Long story short, things went downhill fast. He wasn't the one and I ended up nearly dying from stress. Literally.

I spent the next 22 years undulating between sober and drunk. Trying to grieve as eloquently as possible. Working my ass off to raise my daughter by myself, while also self-medicating and trying to live the life I though I deserved. Nothing I did felt fulfilling and no amount of booze could take away the pain of what I had lost. I had not only lost my trust and love in someone I thought was my soul mate (ah, stupid youth), but I had also lost the full use of what used to be a very strong, athletic and incredible body.

Fast forward to 2021 and here I was again in love with someone who this time actually was worth trusting and worth loving, yet I was still unable to allow myself to be happy.

Why? Fear. Plain and simple. Fear that my past was returning to play out exactly the same way it had before. That fear then led me to drink to cover itself up, which then progressed to full blown addiction and having a shot of tequila immediately after waking followed by one every hour until bed. In between that time, I was ruining everything good in my life. Alcohol has a way of doing that so you will continue to love it and nothing/no one else.

Since realizing this truth, I have found myself at peace. Peace knowing that I understand myself better. Peace within myself to allow myself to let go of that past pain and continue to tell myself things are different. I am different. I have healed in many, many ways. I am no longer that 20 year old inexperienced girl. I am a full grown very experienced and very wise woman. I am powerful. I am more powerful than my fears and I am certainly more powerful than any substance that tries to call me back to the dark side. No thank you, I prefer the light.

Many people have said that you can see how withdrawn I was in my "before" photos and now see how alive I am in my current. It's true. Not only is it obvious in my photos, but I feel it in my heart and soul. I still have some healing to do and will always be a work in progress, but I am beyond grateful I have found more of myself and have learned to love who I am and what I have to offer.

In the words of a wonderful man; I am Wonder Woman.

#clean and sober #sobercommunity #soberaf #soberissexy #soberliving #sober thoughts #sobriety #healing #healingjourney #self esteem #self awareness #self care #gratitude

[madamecaos]

Sun and Rain

Where Ghost x Witch fem!Reader are Soulmates

Tag: Angst, lil gore, trigger S. Assault

He should’ve known this wouldn’t be a normal mission. He should’ve had a clue, recognizing that everything was all wrong from the beginning.

The intel, the secrecy of whom he was hunting had been cloaked, even from his superiors. But alas, a good soldier only follows instructions.

If only his precarious situation wasn’t annoying. Ghost had experienced the world through the missions he’d been sent to. Deserts frying him with scorching heat or skies blinding with white blizzards. And yet, the humid mild heat of the jungle was the most uncomfortable.

Mosquitos were the bane of his existence, since even batting them away, they would still somehow bite him through the mask. The sweat sticking to the back of his neck made him itch. And Soap noticed.

“You a little twitchy there, Lt,” said Soap, eyeing him, gun pointed to the front as he trekked through the shade of tall trees. A sea of trunks surrounded them, too many possibilities of an enemy hiding.

“Mosquitos,” he said, nothing more to explain.

“Even through the mask?” Soup asked, genuinely surprised like an inquisitive kid.

“The things are monsters.”

From the back they heard a slap, and all turned around in sharp alarm, pointing. Only, to reveal Captain John Price grumbling about the ‘bloody beasts.”

“Keep walking straight, less than a meter away.” Laswell instructed through the comms.

“Roger.” Price answered.

Ghost’s neck prickled in anticipation. He wondered how dangerous was the enemy, since they have them walking in the unamed jungle, with unspecified instructions, step by step directions. Odd.

But the trust in his captain was enough to put him in this position. He promised the intel was good. To trust him, or whatever that means.

And the instructions had come loud and clear. Kill the rising druglord in said coordinates, somewhere in Columbia. But no name was given, no information, no concrete intel. The information found of their own investigation and scouting lead to believe the new druglord was pairing with the top dog, Ignacio “El Brujo”. The new addition in the Colombia cartels had the government nervous, but they had no clue why.

Soap’s money is on technology. Gaz bet it was terrorism, pushing drugs not being enough to move Special Forces into Colombia. Serbia was more his pace.

The pink and orange sky glared upon them as they reached a peak in a jagged hill, giving away downhill to a beautiful mansion. Capital was spent on the vast of its structure. It was a wonder how NASA hadn’t just only seen them from the sky. It was huge.

Even with the sun shining, droplets peppered from the sky, some of it gray clouds.

“Would you look at that,” Soap muttered, the expanse of the rest of the property, a blanket of green and plantain crops in the middle of the sea of mountains. They were literally nowhere he recognized, the tropical sight taking his breath away, pink and orange glowing.

“There’s a saying about this,” Gaz pointed to the still sunny raining sky. “Here in Columbia I think, that a witch is getting married.”

“What?”

“That when its raining and still sunny, a witch is getting married.”

Laswell interrupted. “Approach with caution, we need the target in our hands. Keep conversation tight, over.”

Price answered on their behalf.

And to think, this wouldn’t even be more weird. The mansion was empty.

Only when they broke the entrance, there realized it wasn’t necessary to break in. The door was open, no guards at the entrance.

Until they got to the living room and and saw a sea of dead bodies… dead parts of dead people. The body guards or… and their families. He even had to blink away from the image and its carnage. Some blood on the curtains.

“What the fuck,” Soap spoke out of turn, Price giving him a reproach look, as they had already shut them up.

But as he stepped to the sight, getting in front of the two muscle giants, he realized he would’ve said the same. A whole dinner room that had seemed like a regular family gathering, only bloody with someone’s arm without its owner.

“Ok then,” Price braces himself, steps through to limbs and corpses, acting as normal as possible. Their steps left bloody footsteps on the carpet, a red river in one direction.

They scouted every room, even found one in the bathroom, head banged to death in the mirror, as if he had gone insane.

If he were asked, he would’ve confirmed he felt nauseous. Not himself. Yet, he said nothing.

Room after empty room received the Special Task Force, no other soul in sight. Until they got to the master bedroom.

He couldn’t help but notice the bloody cuffs at the corner of each four post of the bed. Dread curled in his stomach, sweat going through his uniform.

“You ok there, Lt?” Soap asked at his paused posture, not registering.

“Intel finds there might be a secret basement.” Laswell says as if they could do something with that. It was secret.

“Any clue whatsoever?”

“Do you hear that,” Gaz said from the left, heading for the bathroom, gun raised. He pushed the door open, and in the middle, a middle aged man had a gun pointed upwards, pressed to his chin.

“Sir?” Price said, placating. “Put the gun down. We only just want to talk.

“I did it.” He sobs, index finger shaking at the trigger. “I did it.”

He repeats, eyes hazed, over and over again.

“I think he’s high.” Gaz commented, standing the closest.

“Grab him”, Price instructed, and Gaz did so with a side kick to the gun. Slipping the weapon away from the suspect.

“On the floor!” As Gaz brought the suspect for questioning into the bedroom, Ghost offers to check the perimeter for said basement.

Soap invites himself to the exploration.

It was more obvious than not, the only door heading a uncared for pair of stairs, leading into darkness.

“Lights on.” Ghost instructs Johnny from the front. Ghost with a head light, and Soap pointing with a flash light. Gun in the other hand

But nothing was amiss, except Ghost was cold as ice. As if he couldn’t help but shake, jaw trembling inside his mask. He fought through the shakes as they headed down and down, until they reached a normal basement. Walls recently painted white, except the floor. The modern decor was severed by the seven star pointed pentagram spray painted red smack in the middle of the center.

“Look down.” Ghost says.

“What the fuck, “ Soap repeats.

“Soap.” Price commands.

“Found the basement. Two doors to the left. A pentagram drawn in the middle of the room.” Ghost informs, heading closer to the infinite back. It seemed to go on and on, the space beneath the whole mansion. Empty like a parking lot.

“Roger that, see what else is there.” Price says nothing else.

As they get closer to the back, the see a set of doors, turning left to the kitchen.

His ears started ringing enough to be annoying, but not enough to hinder him. His heart started to pound, set on heading a certain direction.

It was sudden and electric, like a fast acting energy drink. The need to be somewhere else.

And he followed the trail. Back to the wall, driven, not knowing where’s he’s heading.

Soap followed silently, not understanding Ghost shift in direction.

Another left, another stairs to a lower floor.

“Damn,” Soap the commented. “Stairs to hell.”

At a sound from bellow, they raise their guns higher.

They were at a disadvantage, the lower floor being darker and not knowing what’s expecting them, Ghost throws a flash grenade, being answered with multiple screams.

Girl screams, and some might be children.

“Price, we got a situation.”

“Possible civilians down in another floor. Might be hostages.” Ghost adds.

His rapid heartbeat hadn’t decreased.

A curious pair of eyes, greeted them, scrunching at the flashlights.

“Special Task Force, put your hands up.” Soap intervenes, being the people person.

Everyone sitting on the floor did so, except one at the back. A girl, head lolled back on the lap of a woman, worrying a cold towel to her forehead.

The girl was still, clothes bloody, beaten to a pulp. Barefoot, naked west down.

Ghost thought her dead, until she moved. With trouble, she turned her neck, carrying a heavy head, curious at the sudden silent.

Lazily looked side ways, eyes barely open.

Eyes made contact briefly before the others closed with exhaustion.

But it was enough for Simon to see something drove him here, and that something was you.

Electricity zapped him from the spine, bringing him to his knees. And in a second, he lost consciousness with Soap’s worry echoing in his ears.

A/n: Sorry for any mistakes, here’s a balloon 🎈.

#ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #fanfiction #cod fanfic

[jameui]

MY HAPPINESS (PART 1)

PAIRING: Choi Soobin x M!Reader

GENRE: Smut/Angst/Fluff

WARNINGS: soobin being a lil bit of a jerk, dub-con, huge height difference, size kink

SUMMARY: You mustered all of your courage to confess to your crush, only for it to go downhill once Soobin decided to tell his friends all about it.

"You're doing that face again." Taehyun deadpanned as he let himself witness another sight of you staring at your crush from afar with a smile riding on your lips, head rested on your palm. He had just finished encoding important details for his report tomorrow and he was to ask you supposedly a question, but when he lifted his eyes away from the computer screen, there you were eyeing Soobin as though your life depended wholly on it. "Can you stop doing that? We have an important reporting tomorrow and here you are ogling your eyes over an athlete who probably smells bad." Taehyun lets out angrily as you let out a sigh.

You smiled, averting your attention back to Taehyun. "You just don't get it, Taehyun. It just... it feels so good when you see a crush. You know?" You told him, yet Taehyun could only roll his eyes at your statement, taking his take out iced cappuccino and drank right from the bottle. "Also, I confessed to him last night through a chat." You said all in less than a second, causing Taehyun to choke on his coffee due to the revelation, spurting some of it through his nose which literally burned as hell, sending you laughing, while Taehyun tried to calm his burning nostrils.

"Fuck you. You should have given me a heads up." Hearing you laugh made it hard for Taehyun not to reciprocate your happiness. Well, to be fair he's half crying and half laughing. The pain was unbearable.

"Sorry, sorry, I—"

"Hey, Y/N. Didn't take you for a guy who like athletes." You heard a person from behind you, as he sat himself down on the seat next to you, your brows furrowing in question. "Soobin said you loved to chat him even though he doesn't want to speak to you." Yeonjun, the team captain of the volleyball team where Soobin is in, added as your eyes grew wide in shock, standing up from your chair. "You okay, bud?"

You shook your head, before moving to find Soobin in the midst of the ocean of students. Considering that Soobin stood out among all the students, his tall stature and how his head poked out above the rest that was how you were able to find him in a flash, the male athlete talking with his friends. You frowned at the thought that he might be talking about it a different angle when all you ever really wanted was to become his friend. You went up to them tapping one of his friend's shoulder, you smiling warmly at him. "Oh, excuse me? Hi, Y/N L/N from the Department of Entrepreneurship. Can I borrow Senior Soobin for a moment? It's something urgent." You asked them who only looked at Soobin, hoping they wouldn't mind. "I may want to speak to him in private." You added, them nodding their heads as you bowed to thank them.

You pulled Soobin by the wrist, while the latter felt somewhat nervous, since he knew the news reached to you already. He may or may not have told a few ears about your confession and probably didn't intend for it to spread in your department like wildfire. Although, it was entirely his fault. No other soul was to blame, except for him. What he heard and what he saw should have stayed between you two. After all, you two were complete strangers, he did not exactly know how you act, so he speculated you were being suspicious with your actions and that you had a motive behind every words you told him.

You two arrived at a quiet gymnasium, your hand leaving Soobin as you placed yourself down on a well hidden place behind a post where no one will be able to hear the conversation between you two. You looked up at the taller male when you saw him just standing idly in his place. You smiled warmly up towards him, patting the space beside you. "Don't worry. I'm not mad... well, a little, but it's nothing too big." You told him, Soobin pursing his lips, hesitatntly sitting down beside you.

Then, the place broke into a moment of silence as neither of you decided to speak. One being nervous, the other finding the right words to say. After a few minutes, you decided to tear off the defeaning silence between you two. "...I'm sorry." You stated, eyes unable to meet Soobin's.

Hearing those words obviously took Soobin aback. He didn't expect to hear you apologize, not when he thought he was the one who owed you an apology. He wanted to speak to tell you that it wasn't you who's supposed to apologize, rather him. But, you decided to cut him off before he could even speak. "I know you must have felt uncomfortable talking with me. Especially through chats." You said, sighing. "I said words I regretted ever telling you. I should have left it at ease. I genuinely wanted to be your friend, but the out of the blue confession was... uh, well, unnecessary and destroyed everything before anything even started." You laughed softly, head hanging low still unable to look at Soobin.

"No.. I.. it's my fault. I've put meanings in every actions you made." He admitted, fiddling with his fingers. He felt so bad his thoughts towards you made you think that your feelings weren't necessary at all. It wasn't his intention to hurt you. He just didn't want to seem insensitive. "Guess... it was just me feeding my ego to make me feel better about myself. I should be the one apologizing, Y/N. Not you."

He hears a chuckle from you, before a sigh moves past your lips. "I didn't need to hear an apology from you, Soobin. It's alright. Besides, this will most probably be the last time we'll talk with each other." You smiled bitterly, Soobin snapping his head down towards you with his eyes wide wondering why you were deciding this meeting to be the last. He felt his chest tighten when the thought of no more you who would talk to him at night and hear his complains, support his decisions and no more exchange of jokes daily would be lost. Yeah, total strangers. But, he couldn't say anything. "Let's forget about this whole ordeal and start again." You let out finally finding the courage to face Soobin. "This feels embarrassing, but Y/N. My name's Y/N."

Soobin could only watch. Unable to even speak. "I guess this will only be the time where we talk with each other. Hello and uh, goodbye?" You said, taking Soobin's hand and shook them with a smile on your face. Afterwards, you decided to stand up and thinking that Soobin needed space to think, you started making your way out of the gymnasium, but before you could take one more step you were held back by a hand on your forearm. You looked back at him, turning around. "Is there—"

"I want to see you everyday, Y/N. So, please don't leave." Soobin breaks you off through your words, this time you were the one left speechless watching as Soobin's expression turns into a frown of desperation, looking so sincere about his words. You smiled at him, gently pushing his hand away from you.

"You can see me everyday. We won't just be exchanging words like usual." You laughed it off, but Soobin vigorously shook his head, not really wanting to lose a friend. Especially in such a tight situation.

"No.. I don't want that." Soobin replied to you, being stubborn about all of it. Infact, he didn't even want you to leave right now, he still wanted to talk to you, it's just that his fear and nervousness was taking over.

"Soobin, listen. I—" You wanted to tell him off and get angry, but you just couldn't, especially when Soobin beat you to it.

"No. Stop, I won't listen. I'll see you and TALK to you tomorrow. Don't find any excuses." Soobin stubbornly replied, covering his ears before he departed from the place leaving you dumbfounded, scoffing in disbelief. Wasn't he the one who told everyone he didn't like speaking with you? So, what's his point?

You thought it would have just stopped at that and that Soobin would think nothing of his words, until you ran into him the next morning by the school's entrance gate. "Y/N! Hey, remember when you were helping me in the past with my school works? In exchange for that I've finished your homeworks for you." Soobin takes his bag from his shoulder and pulls out the papers that was safe inside a folder. "Oh, and I have snacks. Would you want some? I'd love to share with you."

Your eyes widened, noticing the attention he was gaining, you pulled him to the side while Soobin still had a smile on his face, his deeply carved dimples making an appearance.

"Soobin, what are you doing?!" You whisper-shouted, in total disbelief that he would go out of his way and do you favors you never even asked him to. It's almost as if he's making you think your indebted to him.

Soobin laughs a little before he faces you and showed you his million dollar smile. "I'm doing you a favor, Y/N. As a friend" Soobin winks at you, your brows only knitting together. A little bit angry at Soobin for whatever motive he has behind his actions when you already made it clear that you were fine not talking to him. Is it because the talk yesterday hurt his ego? Either way, you could care less. You just can't bare the sight of yourself breaking apart again.

"No. Soobin, just stop, please. I don't want to see myself break my heart, again. Can you please do this one thing for me and just... don't talk to me, again?" You sighed, rubbing your temples in an attempt to calm yourself down. It seemed to you that Soobin was fixed on whatever he had planned to do.

Hearing your words, Soobin pouts, his lower lip sticking out a little. "I... why? Oh, wait. I remembered. You always get cranky when you're hungry. I know what you want. Ice cream!" Soobin's face lit up with joy, giggling in the process as he ran to the cafeteria without getting your answer at all.

"Soobin, wait, WAIT!" You yelled out to him, but Soobin was already too far to even hear you or he was just pretending to act deaf so he could make an excuse to buy you ice cream. Although, normally you would never say no to a free ice cream, but it just didn't feel right as of the moment it felt like you were taking advantage of Soobin and you were certain you didn't want that.

Soobin comes back after a few minutes, you sat down on a bench, looking over to Soobin who had four different flavors of ice cream in his hands, your eyes widening in surprise. "Sorry, I got every flavor they have. Didn't know what you want." Soobin chuckled awkwardly, you shaking your head.

"You... I swear to the heavens..." You let out almost like a whisper, audible enough for Soobin to hear who let out a chuckle before jogging the rest of the way to you, almost dropping one of the ice cream cones he held in his hands.

He smiles at you, perking his brows at you. "Come on~ I know you want them." Soobin played with his brows, raising them up and down, nudging your arm a little, you side-eyeing him a small smile forming on your lips.

You let out a breathe, giving in to his offer taking the cookies and cream flavored one. "...Fine, I'll eat them all, and that's it. No more." You told him, pointing a finger at him with an authoritative tone on your voice as though to tell him you were serious about your words and you are.

"Okay." Soobin smiles at you, unknowingly the lie behind those lips.

Although he said that, he still came to school with an extra drink in his hand which was actually going to be for you and every day he just keeps giving you even more expensive things, like the bag you are currently hitching over your shoulder which Soobin promised that if you'd accept, he would stop from giving you gifts or doing you unexpected favors. It had already been a month since this has been happening and yet Soobin never gave up and always arrived with extra money for you as though he was your personal bank. "Soobin..." You sighed out, yet the said male still seemed unfazed no matter how much you told him.

Soobin gives you a heavenly smile, reaching from ear to ear. "What? I was on my way when I saw the drink you loved to talk about and how much you craved for them."

The words that fell out from Soobin mouths garnered you attention that made you feel u comfortable on your feet. Your brows furrowed, frowning. "Soobin, they're thinking of this as something. Can you just not? It's making my head spin. I don't know whether—"

"I don't know what I'm feeling, Y/N. I'm not able to describe it through words, but what I'm certain of is that I don't want to be apart from you. I want to stay by your side." Soobin cuts you off through your words, your brows even knitting more together at what he was saying. It sounded like pure nonsense to you.

"No, no, no. You're doing it again. Making me fall in love with you all over again." You shook your head, racking your brains out for the right words to tell him, but all of these was making you feel so confused. Soobin was sending signals that was making you assume something behind his actions.

Soobin puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing your blades with his thumb to soothe you down. "You can do anything to me, Y/N. Just please don't push me away from your side." Soobin ruffles your hair and sends a wink your way, making you blush a deep red color, causing the taller male to let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. It was cute.

part 2

#x male reader #male reader #bxb #fanfiction #idol x male reader #bottom male reader #kpop #angsty #txt x male reader #txt soobin x male reader #txt choi soobin x male reader #soobin x male reader #choi soobin x male reader

[heart4reigns]

Hi! I was requesting a fluff roman fic they are both protective of the other and in a tag team match y/n notices that one of their opponents is trying to sabotage roman and so she gets rid of them and then her and roman with the match tyy! (sorry if this made no sense lol) also your writing is really cool and well written :)

DOUBLE TROUBLE, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, fights, unwanted flirting

tags: ocs to fit the plot, badass (y/n), personal BEEF IN THIS FIGHT, who's your head of the table now? LET’S SPICE IT UP A BIT WITH SOME BACKSTAGE DRAMA

summary: we all hate that one dude from work

EVER since you were put into a tag-team reign with your boyfriend, you couldn't help but to notice that he was very very protective of you. see, you weren't weak at all, but all the hard hits and impacts? he took them for you. who would've thought that his protectiveness rubbed off on you?

"baby." roman greeted you with a kiss. "what's good baby?" you replied. "creatives called us." you furrowed your brows, clearly confused. "they're gonna talk about our bookings." you followed him to his car. "i'm so excited, i hope we're gonna fight sami and kevin again!" you giggled, taking pictures of him driving. "i hope so too."

to your surprise, you spotted paul heyman sitting in the middle of the room. "paul?" you were still confused. "oh (y/n), roman. you're not gonna like this." his tone was concerning. "we're not gonna like what?" speak of the devil, the office door opened, revealing two people you didn't want to see. "you gotta be shitting me." you muttered under your breath.

mike and ryan, or their tag-team name, the miracle workers, were bad wrestlers. they were ranked the most reckless wrestlers in the current lineup. "look who we have here!" ryan stared at you from head to toe. you hated him. he was a flirt, always trying to get it with you, even though he knew that you were dating the roman reigns. roman tensed up, moving his chair closer to yours.

on the other hand, mike was probably more insufferable than ryan. he was a man of few words, but when he opened his mouth, he'd say the worst thing that someone could ever think of. you really couldn't do anything about this booking. they were pushing you and roman together for being the new upcoming tag-team champions, this match was just another roadblock to success. as soon as you signed the contract, you could tell that ryan was still eyeing you.

“can’t wait to see you in your sexy gear, (y/n)." ryan winked at you. “how many times do i have to tell you that i have a boyfriend and he’s literally sitting in front of you.” you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “i’m just saying you look good in your gear, i can treat you right.” that got into your boyfriend’s nerves as he stood up from his seat, causing you to stand up as well–to prevent things from going downhill. “chill, dude. that was a joke.” ryan panicked for a second. “you better start respecting her or i’m going to actually kick your ass, ryan.”

roman was known for his good temper, but some people got under his nerves. you put your hand on his shoulders. “come on, let’s go.” you said, not wanting to cause a fight. “yeah. we’re just wasting our time here.” paul added. the black-haired male grunted in response, taking your hand and walked out of the room with an annoyed expression plastered on his face. “i swear, we’re going to fucking ruin them next week.”

something riled up inside your boyfriend after the contract signing incident. he was… oddly very excited for the match. he complained about it before but now? he was working his ass off. roman also contributed to the choreography, it was mostly his idea. you saw the moves and you knew that he was trying to get you away from ryan as much as possible, pinning you to your other opponent, mike.

the gym was filled with commotion. "AND ANOTHER SPEAR FROM HER!" solo yelled, acting like the commentator. "SOLO, GET YOUR ASS HERE! YOU'RE A REFEREE NOT A COMMENTATOR!" his brother shouted. "RIGHT." solo immediately jumped into the ring, counting down to 3. before he could reach the third number, you kicked out. "shit, you really are the female version of him." jimmy complained.

you licked your lips in excitement, feeling adrenaline pumping in your blood. "i'd really hate it if i was put inside the ring with you, (y/n)." jimmy stood up, fixing his gloves. "and thank god we're in the same faction!" you grinned, countering his kick with another kick. jimmy was down as you locked his head with your arms. you won again in this practice, "HELL YEAH!" you jumped, falling on you back. "i don't get you sometimes, (y/n). you're clumsy as hell but like you're also fast."

"that's because she's in good hands." your tag-team partner (aka boyfriend) went inside the ring. "you missed my cool kick." you pouted. "i didn't, i was watching from behind the glass." he took off his glasses and started stretching. "you know, i'd love to see you wrestle with your glasses on." you winked at him. "stop flirting and start attacking." jey complained.

thankfully, you came home in one piece, despite having your body thrown from left to right. it was going to be a big fight tomorrow and you hated the bookings. "what are you thinking about, baby?" your thoughts were cut-off by your boyfriend's voice. "how i fucking hate being in the ring with mike and ryan." you sighed. "honestly, you’re right. they need to know their place, i can’t stand seeing you being disrespected." he agreed.

"it's going to be okay, baby. i mean what's the worst thing that could happen to us?"

the day for the match came and you couldn’t wait for it to be over. roman was holding your hand the entire time, not wanting you to slip from his sight. suddenly, his phone rang, he hesitated for a second. “babe, it’s okay. you can go answer the phone, i’ll be in the locker room.” you gave him a reassuring smile. “okay, i’ll be right back.” with that, he left you.

locker room wasn’t empty. you spotted some of your friends gearing up for the show. “hey, (y/n)!” bianca gave you a big hug as soon as she saw you. “hi!” you returned the gesture. “excited for tonight?” she sat down to adjust her outfit. “i never wanted to walk-out of a match so bad.” you complained. “ah yes, mike and ryan.” she cringed at the thought of the miracle workers. “good luck then, beat their asses!”

“damn, told you that you looked good with your gear.” you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “what are you doing here?” you asked. the locker room was empty now and your boyfriend was still on his call with jey. “do you mind?” “i don’t mind talking to you while your bodyguard isn’t here.” he winked. “jesus, drop the entire flirty act, please?” you were very annoyed. “i’m sorry i just can’t help it, you’re too pretty to ignore.”

“and you look too young to get your ass beat by me. move it, ryan.” you sighed in relief as you heard your boyfriend’s voice. “aaand the tribal chief is here, better get going. good luck tonight.” “stick to the script tonight!” he closed the door, avoiding a long lecture from the champion himself. “did he do anything?” roman looked at you with concern written all over his face. “no he didn’t, just his usual shit.” “right, let’s just end this night. we can go home after that and get ice cream.”

the show started for the two of you. “the undisputed tag-team champions, roman reigns and (y/n) (l/n), the bloodline!” the crowd went wild as you walked down to the ring. mike and ryan were already standing inside, ready to attack anytime. people were rising up their fingers in tribute of your championship with roman. as soon as you slid inside the ring, bowing down to the crowd–you could tell this was going to be a messy match.

your heart skipped a beat when the match started, mike and ryan immediately going off script. ryan was continuously trying to get you down, instead of roman. you made eye-contact with roman for a second, knowing how this match was going to be tough. you quickly avoided the punch that ryan was throwing at you. you dropkicked him from behind, causing him to fall on his stomach. now that ryan was down, you just needed to help roman stray mike away. “and a spear from reigns to mike, what will they do after this?” you jumped on the ropes, ready to jump on mike before ryan picked you up.

“ryan is back on his feet, capturing her in his lock.” you breathed for air as you were lifted from the ropes. “ryan, jesus christ!” you mouthed at him. he threw you on the ground, still going off script. oh, someone’s gonna get fired tonight, you thought. it was totally personal for the four of you. the move he made earlier caused you to hurt your shoulders. pain shot up from your shoulders. before he could tackle you again, roman speared him to the barricades. that one was personal.

mike was in the middle of the ring, looking for another attack. you speared him to the barricades, copying your boyfriend’s move. he wasn’t moving. one down, one to go, you thought. while you were with mike, ryan and roman were back inside the ring. you could see ryan was going to throw a punch on one of your boyfriend’s already bruised peck. you ran and slid inside the ring, dragging him into the pole. you were still holding back your punches, still being professional as ever. everyone could tell that you and roman were pissed. even the most gullible fans knew that the two of you were different tonight.

the crowd counted down along with the referee and you were glad that it was over. “and the winners, still the undisputed tag-team champion, the bloodline, roman reigns and (y/n) (l/n)!” you lifted the belts with your boyfriend on your side. “thank you.” he mouthed to you. “anything for you, baby.” you winked at him.

needless to say, you knew the backstage was going to be a mess. the locker room, on the other hand, was impressed with you and roman. “dude, i’d be so fucking pissed. i won’t even hold back my punches.” theory was there, still in his gear, clearly waiting for the two of you to drop some tea. “i just don’t get it why they were so fucking reckless.” you were offered ice by shotzi, she gave you a pity smile.

“what the fuck, reigns?” the miracle workers came back to the locker room. “no, what the fuck, ryan?” you stood up from your seat, clearly angered by his actions. “we told you to stick to the script.” your tone was laced with venom. “and we don’t listen to you fuckers.” mike said. “see, if you complied with us and just be a pretty girl inside the ring… be useless as usual, we might stick to the scri-“ before mike could finish his sentence, you dropped the ice and lunged on him. you had him on headlock, the man was on the ground. “call me useless one more time and you and your flirty friend right there,” you paused for a second to point at ryan who was scared shitless. “are going home with nothing but cut and bruises.”

roman wanted to intervene, but he knew you were capable of protecting yourself. “bro, you’re not gonna do anything?” jimmy nudged him. “nah, i’ll sit back and watch. i love seeing her being aggressive. they deserved it.”

a/n: HIII thank u so much for your request and i really appreciate your comment <333 it made my day!! requests are still open but i'm gonna focus on operation: together (aka a love triangle between roman and cody) check it out <3

#roman reigns #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #the usos #wwe #wwe imagines #paul heyman #wrestling #cody rhodes #jey uso #austin theory #bianca belair #shotzi

[incognitobobcat]

The Earthrealm Boys and Female!Reader who is laughing hysterically with the below poster involved:

Warning: swearing (for the younger eyes) and subtle mentions of suicide and depression.

Johnny Cage

“Ah! Hsbfhhdhwbhwjssnjjkiakkkk!!!!!!!” You cussed internally as the nerves of your fingers couldn’t take any more of you literally pounding sand, a big basin filled with hot sand, which was part of your Shaolin training. You were careful not to actually cuss in the Wushi Academy for obvious reasons.

“Looks like you wanna tell yourself to go “pound sand!”” Johnny called out to you, laughing.

You glared at him, blowing a lock of hair off your face before retorting, “You pound this sand, then!”

“Oh, no no NOOO!” Johnny laughed, “I’m good! I’ve had my fill of that!”

You groaned pathetically, not wanting to go on, as you have been doing that for the past half hour. You listened to your sore, red hands, waving them in the cool air to alleviate the pain.

Johnny beckoned you by waving his hand towards himself, “Hey, I’ve got a gift for you!”

Curious, you followed Johnny. He led you to a tree, where there was a large sign. The first thing that caught your eye was the wording inside a large circle in the centre that read “Bang Head Here”. You then read the rest of the poster before bursting out in hysterical laughter.

“It’s something for your noggin to get it off the pain. You’re welcome!” Johnny exclaimed before walking away.

Raiden

After a full day of training, the last task being crawling forward down several flights of stairs built on one of the downhill slopes as fast as you humanly can, all you wanted to do was throw up from the pain.

How you held it in was a miracle. You wanted to cry, and cry you did. You contemplated your life choice, which included joining the Shaolin, wondering why on earth you thought it was an excellent challenge to upgrade your skills, as it seemed brutal and unforgiving so far.

You found yourself walking down a trail lined with trees until you spotted Johnny’s “gift”. Your sadness transitioned to you being greatly amused as you walked towards it, chuckles intensifying to laughter.

Before you could stop yourself, you banged your head against the poster, not hard enough to hurt yourself, of course.

“Y/N! What are you doing??”

Your laughing subsided some as you turned to see Raiden walking towards you with a concerned expression. Your face softened a little.

“Don’t do that! You’ll hurt yourself!” Raiden chastised you gently.

You waved a hand in the air reassuringly, “Oh, don’t worry, I was just having a bit of fun with myself while contemplating my life choices. Look what Johnny got me! Isn’t that hilarious??” You gestured towards the poster nailed to the tree.

Raiden approached the sign and read what it said silently. Then he sighed, shaking his head.

“Johnny!” Raiden exclaimed in an exasperated tone.

“I think it’s the best!” You laughed hysterically, then held up both hands when you saw Raiden’s concerned face turned towards you.

“Not to minimize your concern, Raiden! I totally appreciate your concern! It’s just a little humour and fun in a stressful situation. I promise you, I’m not hurting myself!”

You appealed with a reassuring and apologetic look for worrying him.

Sighing, he relented, “Alright, I’ll let it go this time. But if you need to talk to de-stress from training, I’m here.”

You nodded appreciatively, “Thank you! I’ll keep that in mind.” You felt bad that your amazing human of a friend worried about you, though.

Kenshi

Another day of gruelling training meant another day of extreme pain. It never seems to get better over time and you were frustrated as hell from what you perceive was a lack of improvement. It has been months since you joined, and though you had a martial arts background you were no spring chicken either.

In order to release yourself from any self-loathing, you need some senseless and random humour. That was how you you’ve always countered any “tragedies” (over exaggeration) of life; that or listening to Sum 41, Linkin Park, Rammstein, and the like, which was not allowed in a Buddhist institution. By the Elder Gods, you missed your music!

You headed to a wall where the “Stress Relief Kit” was tacked on, hidden from the masters as best as it could be. Sighing, you started head banging on it, repeating, “No…no…no…” in sync with each banging.

Without warning, you yelped as were lifted of the ground and were sent flying a few yards before landing on a soft patch of grass with a thud.

Confused, you scrambled onto all fours as you saw Kenshi walk past you.

“There are other ways to distress, Y/N,” he said with a stoic expression without looking at you. He continued to walk and he disappeared into the trees.

Out of all reactions, a bout of hysterical laughter hit you once you processed what just happened.

Kung Lao

Whenever you were paired with Kung Lao as a sparring partner, you had so much fun. Even though Kung Lao had an ego, it was the kind of ego that a child has when he wanted to be praised for his attention-seeking antics.

He was an absolute riot. You didn’t know if lost more calories and got flat abs from training or from dying of laughter.

That does not mean that he wasn’t a good fighter. In fact, he’s got an awesome fighting style, even without the hat.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began, beaming, “You know that sign that Johnny gave you? Where is it?”

”Oh! It’s on a wall!”

“Go get it! I’m gonna show you something amazing!”

You quickly went to retrieve the letter paper-sized metal poster, then you handed it to Kung Lao.

You followed Kung Lao to where there was a long wooden plank of about an inch thick and six feet long that was held up on either side by stone pillars of around four feet high. Kung Lao placed the poster on the centre of the plank.

“Now, watch and learn, Y/N,” Kung Lao said with bravado and a grin. After taking off his hat and handing it to you, he stood up straight with his arms on his sides, closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and then-SNAP! At lightning speed, he broke the plank in half with his head.

It happened so fast and you stared at him with jaws hanging open and wide-eyed. Kung Lao smiled at your reaction as he took his hat back from you.

“OMG!! Teach me! Teach me!!” You exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down and pumping your fists in front of you.

Smirking, Kung Lao took another plank that was leaning against a wall and set it on the stone supports. He then took the dented sign that now resembled a bowl and flattened it as best as he could before placing it on the centre of the plank. He gestured towards the plank.

“Your turn,” he said.

You eagerly stepped in front of the plank and mimicked Kung Lao’s stance and breathing before you have at it. You smashed your forehead against the wood with all your might and, no surprise, nothing broke.

“OW!” You screamed as you fell on your butt, laughing hysterically while massaging your head.

“Y/N, a word.”

You recognize the voice of who called to you. Uh-oh.

Liu Kang

You clumsily scrambled onto your feet, trying to kill your hysterical laughter, but failing miserably.

You struggled to muster the most apologetic expression.

“Lord Liu Kang,” you greeted. Kung Lao, who was behind you, also bowed respectfully.

“Follow me,” the Fire God instructed.

You intuited the seriousness of the mood, so your laughter significantly subsided to a smile. You were led to a quieter spot of the area before Liu Kang spoke.

“Y/N, what is this I hear about you banging your head against hard surfaces?”

“Oh,” you began sheepishly, “It’s something fun that I have been doing to relieve stress. It’s for humour’s sake, I’m not really hurting myself!”

“While humour has its time and place,” Liu Kang began, “Further harming oneself as a joke to relieve stress has no place in training. There have been a few who have brought your behaviour to my attention. And, what is this “stress relief” poster?”

“Oh, Johnny gave it to me as a joke,” you quipped, slightly lighting up, “To lighten my mood!”

“Please retrieve this gift, Y/N.”

You did as you were ordered and handed the bent poster to Liu Kang who looked as it before sighing.

“I will have a word with Cage. In the meantime, I don’t want to see or hear about any more of this behaviour from you. If the intense training is more than you can handle, perhaps consider a break.”

“No, Lord Liu Kang. I will manage,” you replied, “I’ll bear it.”

Liu Kang nodded, “Good. One more thing, Y/N.”

You nodded expectantly, “Yes?”

“Don’t always follow whatever Kung Lao wants you to do. He has been training for far longer than you, and while his skills are indeed impressive, you are not yet at his level. The last thing we need is for you to needlessly injure yourself. It would be such a loss to Earthrealm. We need you, Y/N.”

Touched, you bowed deeply, “I apologize, Lord Liu Kang. It will never happen again.”

Smiling, the Fire God nodded, “ I trust that it won’t.”

He turned to walk away and you sighed in relief. As gruelling as Shaolin training was, you were glad that you didn’t get kicked out.

Sub Zero (Bi Han)

You and a couple of trainees were taking turns sparring each other in the courtyard of the Lin Kuei palace, where it was unrelentingly cold. Not only do you have to train under hard conditions and get your human bodies used to it, you also have to endure the dead serious attitudes and moody atmosphere.

You knew that you and a few others would love to let loose and be yourselves, but that can only happen out of the sight and earshot of your battle-hardened seniors, especially the frigid Grandmaster.

Luckily for you, the two trainees who you were sparring with were somewhat like-minded in terms of a sense of humour.

“I’ve got something to show you!” You said to your mates in a sing sing voice. It was your break anyways, and you took advantage of the situation. Your mates looked at each other then back to you with quizzical expressions.

You grabbed your bag and pulled out a metallic Stress Relief Kit sign and held it up. It only took a few seconds before the two erupted in hysterical laughter, followed by yours.

“If unconscious, cease stress reduction activity?!” The first mate said, “I think that’s a given!”

“Where are you gonna put it?” Asked the second one.

“Here!” You exclaimed, pointing to the nearest wall. You held the poster in place at face level, “Go ahead! Try it!”

“Excuse me??” the second one said, “It’s your poster. YOU do it!”

“Yeah! You do it!” the first one said, taking your place in holding the poster against the wall, “Go on! Show us how it’s done!”

You stood in front of the poster, braced yourself, and then banged your head against the circle three times. The three of you erupted into hysterical laughter and you were high fived.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” Came a harsh and gruff voice.

It’s safe to say that the hysterics stopped and the three of you froze solid with horrified looks, turning gingerly to face your Grandmaster.

If looks could kill, all three of you would be shattered ice statues by now.

Bi-Han eyed the three of you coldly, then he saw the poster held against the wall by the first mate.

His scowl deepens and he growled before speaking, “The Lin Kuei is an elite of highly trained assassins and warriors. We have a reputation and an image to uphold! I do not tolerate foolish and frivolous behaviours that will drag the Lin Kuei name down to the level of idiots! Conduct yourselves with dignity or face my wrath! And dispose of that at once!”

With a last growl, he turned on his heels and stormed off in a dignified manner, muttering, “Bird brains!”

The three of you just stood there staring at each other with held breaths. You guess you wouldn’t be having fun for a long time.

Scorpion (Kuai Liang)

It has been a few months since you became an initiate. Since the inception of Shirai Ryu, there was an urgency to expedite everyone’s training to get all of you where you needed to be, which is why the new clan was very selective of their initiates. Where time is if the essence, quality counts.

Since you had a friend who was accepted in first, she had dropped your name and were approached to become an initiate. You were lucky to have made the cut, since you had years of martial arts training.

While the training was held to very high standards, Grandmaster Scorpion was also fair and took into consideration a reasonable work-life balance. Because of the nature of your current profession, it only makes sense to include as much laughter as you can, while you’re still alive.

When you and your friend were still room mates back in college as international students, you had this one Stress Relief Kit poster for good laughs. Now that you were both initiates, that poster had found its way on the wall of your group’s designated dojo.

Everybody seem to have a great laugh out of it, but the most frequent user seem to be you, which put you and your friend in hysterics every time. That is why you got called into the Grandmaster’s office one day.

“Have a seat, Y/N,” Kuai Liang gestures towards the chair in front of the desk. You sat down, feeling anxious.

“How are you?” He began, looking you in the eye.

“I am well, Grandmaster,” you replied, slightly shifting.

“Is training going well?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good,” he replied; then, “Is everything alright with you?”

Confused, you nodded, “Everything is ok.”

“Are you sure?” He held eye contact with you, expression serious.

Confused even more, you nodded, feeling uncomfortable.

“It has come to my attention that you’re engaging in self-harming behaviour,” Kuai Liang said seriously, “Your team mates report that this often happens during training.”

Your face softened, “Oh,” you began.

“They reported that you are “stressed out” and that the frequent banging your head against the wall to music of a questionable nature is catharsis,” Kuai Liang began, “If that is the case, that tells me that your mental health is affected to the point where I am concerned. Do you need to talk to someone, Y/N?”

The genuine concern in his eyes made you feel guilty and cornered like a child being questioned about bad behaviour by a parent or a teacher.

“Oh, no, I am fine Grandmaster,” you began explaining about the poster that you and your friend had since college, and that the poster was meant for nothing more than lighthearted fun.

After you finished, Kuai Liang kept eye contact with you, and you can’t help but feel like he was a human lie detector. He finally spoke.

“Y/N, the Shirai Ryu takes training seriously. We hold ourselves to high standards as we are now one of Earthrealm’s protectors. We also need to be vigilant as the Lin Kuei can strike us at anytime. Our bodies and minds need to be in top condition in order to withstand the stresses and dangers of this way of life. If you feel that you cannot handle the stress that being in our clan brings, maybe this is not the right fit for you.”

Feeling bad, you reassured the Grandmaster that you are able to handle the stress of training, and the poster, again, was a joke to help cope with stress. You are indeed fine.

Kuai Liang seemed to accept your answer, and continued, “It is imperative that we check in with ourselves and each other. Your team mates did the right thing by coming to me. Do not hold this against them. Also, be mindful that you’re in a different country and therefore you need to be sensitive to the culture and its nuances. Many people may not understand your sense of humour and may take offence at it.”

“I understand, Grandmaster,” you affirmed, nodding solemnly, “I apologize for my actions.”

“Good,” Kuai Liang nodded, “ You are dismissed.”

You stood and bowed with both hands clasped in front of you respectfully before exiting the office a changed person!

Smoke (Tomas Vrbada)

Long before the above meeting with your Grandmaster happened, you were having just another typical training day, where part of it was spent training with your group, and the other half was either working out and honing your skills on your own.

You and your friend were sparring. Since it was just the two of you in your designated dojo, you whipped out out your iPhone and went through you play lists to play some music while training to hype things up.

“Oooh! That’s a good pick!” Your friend exclaimed with eyes wide as she hovered over you shoulder while you tapped the screen to select your music. You turned the volume up to a reasonable degree as rhythmic clapping started, shortly followed by the guitar riff, then the drums and the rest of the instruments.

At this point, you were both head banging to the music going, “Yeah!” “ I miss this song!”

“Wake in a sweat again

Another day’s been laid to waste

In my disgrace.”

The opening lines of Linkin Park’s “Given Up” were sung; hyped up, you each picked up your bo staff and worked on your technique and form taking turn as offended and defence. Sticks clashed seemingly in beat to the music as both of you eyed each other trying to read each other’s moves.

There were more clashing of sticks, grunts, cries, spins, evasive maneuvers, and deflections with your intense sparring.

You felt a hard whack at the back of your calves as your friend swept her staff at a low angle, knocking you on to your back.

As if on queue, you heard Chester Bennington sing, “I’VE GIVEN UUUUUUUUUP!” This elicited hysterical laughter from the both of you. As your friend helped you up, you leaned on her shoulder for support, struggling from laughter.

Your friend was far more skilled at the staff than you were, as so far, you’ve lost count of the number of times that she’s knocked you on your back.

“Aaaaaaaah!” you cried out, heading to a specific spot on the wall. You started to bang your head to

“PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY

PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY

PUT ME OUT OF MY

PUT ME OUT OF MY FUCKING MI-“

Your head banging was halted when your forehead suddenly made contact with something soft and warm.

“This again?”

You looked up and locked eyes with those of your Sensei, Smoke. The Shirai Ryu’s Second-in-Command had an amused look on his face as he placed his hand between your head and the wall that was home to the Stress Relief Kit.

Still in hysterics, you struggled to stand straight so that you can bow in greeting.

“At least you didn’t progress to the “unconscious” part,” Tomas chuckled, reading the poster, “And what an interesting choice of music to train to, Y/N.”

You managed to control your laughter enough to give an answer, “We miss this song from our college days.”

“You know,” Tomas began, “I have been noticing that you’ve been having a little too much fun with this.” He knocked a knuckle on the poster twice.

“It’s called catharsis! You should try it!” You quipped back.

“I can think of other ways that you can destress besides head banging against a poster on a wall to this kind of music.”

“What do you mean?” Your friend countered, “It’s frickin’ epic!”

“If you think about it, don’t you think that it’s counter productive to train hard to survive to music about giving up on life?” Tomas asked, “Are you Going Under?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking to your friend then back to him.

“You know, like, you want to stay in love with your sorrow, but God, you wanna let it go through “catharsis”?” He looked at you deadpan this time.

You paused for a minute before answering, “Aren’t you poetic, Sensei.”

You got a stare back in return, his expression still serious, but his eyes with a hint of teasing, which confused you.

“if you ever feel like you’ve tried so hard and got so far, but in the end it doesn’t even matter, my ears are open,” Tomas offered.

”Geez, I’m fine!” you protested, feeling more annoyed about being teased.

“You don’t have to hide. We’d rather you talk, rather than you walk alone on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.”

Something about what he said sounded familiar, then it clicked! That’s when your friend started howling.

“Oh! HAHAHAHAAA!! I see what you did! That’s very clever, man!” Your friend raised a hand to Tomas, which he returned with a high five.

Tomas cracked a smile, chuckling a little.

You shut your eyes in relief and laughed along. He had a sense of humour after all!

“I was, like, what’s going on?? Then, I’m like, “Oh, gotcha!!” You choked out.

“You’re fine,” Tomas lightly shoved your shoulder. As he turned to leave, he stopped and warned, “Y/N, being goofy is fine, just don’t overdo it. I might start getting worried, then I would have to have a serious talk with you one day if it continues. Remember, safety first!”

With that, he disappeared through a doorway leading to the next room.

Both of you were in high spirits and still giggling. It was a pleasure to see this subtle and humorous side of Smoke, which you hope you’d see more of.

**Can anyone guess what songs Tomas was quoting from? 😁😁😁

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada #mk1 smoke #smoke #mk1 sub zero #subzero mk1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #mk1 scorpion #scorpion #mk1 kuai liang #kuai liang #mk1 johnny cage #johnny cage #mk1 raiden #raiden #mk1 kenshi #kenshi #mk1 kung lao #kung lao #mk1 liu kang #liu kang #mk1 bi han #mk smoke #mortal kombat scorpion #mortal kombat liu kang #mortal kombat kuai liang

[drippingmoon]

Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k 

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me. 

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots. 

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly. 

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

#ayearofwriting #2023 #aquiver-aglow #aberration of sunlight