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pearlofthesirens · 2 months

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Everything's gonna be okay- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

first time writing for a fandom omg might as well start writing for cod more. thank you to @xxshadowbabexx for this writing competition, i'm so happy to participate <3 summary: After Simon found himself waking up after another nightmare, his significant other reminds him that he isn't alone in this world pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader warnings: she/her pronouns used, nightmares, Simon's past, toxic relationship with father mentioned, slight cursing now playing: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez word count: 1193 words(one thousand one hundred and ninety three words)

"I wish you would've told me," "Told you what? That I get nightmares which eat me alive? That I've always been this fucked up?" "..that's not what I meant, Si." Hearing the familiar nickname slip off her tongue despite how he yelled at her snapped him out of the shaken state he was in. He turned to look at the doorknob, contemplating on whether to twist it open or not. It had been more than half an hour that he locked himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and making excuses to not come out. He didn't want to see her, not when she had witnessed him scream as he woke up from his nightly terrors and swat her hand away with such force. All she wanted was to comfort him, her gentle rubs on his face was all he needed at that moment. Then why did he refuse to open the door and face her?

"I want to help, Si. I want to be there for you like you have been for me all this time." He looked at himself in the mirror, the face he dreaded to see every day. He wore the mask for a reason and as much as Johnny pestered him for the real reasons, it had always been more than just hiding his face for safety. His dusty blonde strands and brown irises remind him of a bastard he shouldn't be thinking of. The bastard he took care of when he just had enough, the bastard who tyrannized not only him, but his dear mother and brother. His lover on the other side of the door seemed to be in love with all of him, the scars, wounds, bruises, even the face he thought he would despise all his life.

"You're more than your father's son. You're Simon, my Simon.." Simon thought of his mother often, Tommy and Beth too. Simon also thought of having a little critter like Joseph crawling around the house, someone whom he can call his. Someone he can raise with the love of his life. Someone to let him prove that he indeed did not turn out to be the person he had sworn to loathe for an eternity. Simon wished to have a family he would love and cherish. But he did not trust himself.

"Do not listen to the voices in your head, Simon. They're lying to you. You're worth it, you're worth the troubles. I'm here to help and I'm here to stay. Please..please let me in. Please let me help you, Si." Hearing her voice break was the last straw and he couldn't torture himself with solitude anymore. He opened the door very slowly, surprisingly avoiding the creaking of the hinges which much needed some greasing. He looked down to find her little face peering into him, her curious eyes always searching for something. Under her scrutinizing gaze, Simon felt the tiniest droplet of water roll down from his forehead to his lashes, down to his chin. Her hand took his, squeezing his fingers softly before she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He let go of every insecurity and every doubt he had about himself, snaking his arms around her waist.

Dipping his head down and into her neck, he took the longest breath in and inhaled her all so familiar scent. Simon thought she never needed perfume, her body odor was so enticing and comforting to him that he'd rather not fill his nostrils with anything artificial. His arms tightened and he let out the softest sniffle, burying his face even further into her neck. He felt two small hands rubbing his back, running over the muscles he spent hours in the gym to build.

Before meeting her, Simon thought that crying in front of his partner was the stupidest thing possible. How would it look if a 6'4 military man was breaking down in tears in the arms of his little love? He was supposed to be a man, he was supposed to be the one providing her comfort and not the other way. But at that moment of vulnerability, his ego had been overtaken by the need to feel her close. She was the only one who would see through Ghost and not once judge him. "This..I'm so sorry, lovie..I-I can't make it stop." "I know, darling. I know. But I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Si." Simon never once understood how she broke through the tough walls he had built, how she took his ice cold heart and warmed it up at the cost of her patience. She had always been so gentle with him, even when he felt frustrated and yelled profanities at her, not realizing that she was not one of the people who would disregard how he felt. She taught him how to apologize with words, she always reassured him that he could be gentle despite not once finding peace in his tragic life. And yes, he was gentle with her. He did apologize with words every single time he ended up saying something he didn't mean.

He had a ritual to calm her down when she was upset, the reason being him or not. He would sit her down on his lap, wipe her tears and place tender kisses on her forehead. He did everything in his power to not see his angel cry, specially not because of him. So why was it weird to him when she did the same? Why did it not feel right when it was her turn to show how much he deserved to be held and comforted too? "I'll tell you this again and again and again. You're worth it, Si. You're worth the stupid arguments we get into sometimes, you're worth the silent treatment, you're worth all the wrong things you've once said to me. You wanna know why?" He only nodded his head, not bringing his face out of her neck. "Because I see the change in you. I see you trying, I see you improving. You've gotten so much better at expressing yourself, you apologize with words, you think twice before saying anything to me. I know there had been moments you've slipped up, but that does not mean that you don't deserve love." And suddenly, everything she said made sense to Simon. He had improved, he tried his best to be better, to be gentler, to be kinder. To her and to himself. So what if he had said something he shouldn't have? He knew how to recognize his mistakes and appropriately apologize for it, he knew how to make up for his behavior. He knew how to say sorry without bullshitting, he knew how to admit that he had done something wrong and he knew how to fix it. And she had been by his side all the time, refusing to be anything but kind, loving and understanding. How could he not love her? "I swear, lovie..I ain't leaving you till the day I die. I promise" "I love you too, Si. Wanna get back to bed?" "Yeah."

proofread ✓ pearly venus, 00:44 240227

#ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost #simon riley x you #angst #hurt/comfort #simon riley x fem!reader #simon riley angst #pearly venus

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kqyslyho3 · 4 months

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since I'm feeling disgusting over me i need one where matt comforts reader when she feels down, she hates herself, her looks, she thinks she's annoying and boring (basically what i feel like)

warnings and what to expect ! : venting and self loathing.

Y/N sat on her bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn't help but feel a wave of self-loathing wash over her. She hated herself, her looks, and everything about her. She couldn't understand why anyone would want to be around her. She was convinced that she was annoying and boring, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was just a burden to those around her.

As tears welled up in her eyes, she heard a soft knock on her door. She quickly wiped her face and composed herself before calling out for the person to come in. It was Matt, her best friend since childhood. He could tell just by looking at her that something was wrong.

'Hey ma, what's going on?' he asked, using the nickname he had given her when they were kids.

Y/N shrugged, not wanting to burden him with her negative thoughts. But Matt could see right through her. He walked over and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her.

'Talk to me, mamas,' he said softly, using another one of their childhood nicknames.

Y/N took a deep breath and poured her heart out to him. She told him how she felt like she wasn't good enough, how she hated the way she looked, and how she thought she was just a boring and annoying person. Matt listened patiently, his arms never leaving her.

'Y/N, look at me,' he said, gently lifting her chin so she was looking into his eyes. 'You are one of the most beautiful and captivating people I know. Your looks are just a small part of who you are. Your personality, your kind heart, your unwavering support, those are the things that make you truly special.'

Y/N couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had never seen herself in that light before. But the sincerity in Matt's eyes made her start to believe him. He continued to comfort her, telling her all the things he loved about her. And slowly, she started to see herself in a different light.

As the night went on, Matt stayed by her side, making her laugh and distracting her from her negative thoughts. And as they lay in bed together, Y/N's head resting on Matt's chest, she couldn't help but feel grateful for his unwavering love and support.

'Thank you, Matt,' she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

'Always, mamas,' Matt replied, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Their bodies intertwined, they made love in the most tender and loving way. It was a physical expression of the bond they shared, a reminder that no matter what, they would always be there for each other.

As they lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment. She knew that her journey to self-love and acceptance would still have its ups and downs, but with Matt by her side, she felt stronger and more confident than ever before.

She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, feeling loved and cherished by the one person who truly saw her for who she was. And as Matt whispered sweet nothings into her ear, she knew that she was going to be okay. Because she had him, her rock, her constant, her Matt.

.·:·.✧ ✦✧..·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·..·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.·:·..·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

Kqysly notes-

i hope you feel better babes.

i had this half written and forgotten somewhere in my notes when i saw ur message.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo cute story

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miffysrambles · 7 months

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hey, can i request wukong and macaque (sep) comforting a chubby reader (fem if possible) who often remember her past and the bullying she suffered? like a scenario where they find her looking at the mirror with a bitter face

Wukong and Macaque With a Chubby! Fem! S/O

(I'm plus-sized myself so this hit close to home :'3)

You undressed into your bra and underwear as you had gotten home, gripping the chub on your waist as you looked down at your torso. You had always been a bit chubbier than others and being in public today reminded you of that, you hated these days. You have felt like this for quite some time now, it’s just something you deal with. But that doesn’t mean the thoughts banging in your head didn’t bother you. They would say things belittling you and your body, saying what you could do to make yourself thinner. You knew these thoughts were caused by real voices from your past, the things they would say to you were deafening as they boomed in your ears. You sighed as you finally looked up to meet your face, a look of pure bitterness and hatred reflected off the glass. You were so focused on your self-loathing that you didn’t notice your monkey boyfriend standing the the doorway of your bedroom.

Wukong:

Wukong had walked into the room with a smile on his face to greet you after being out all day, he was about to walk up to you to give you hugs and kisses when he stopped in his tracks to see you grimacing at your reflection.

His eyebrows furrowed upwards as he slightly parted his lips, “You ok sunshine?”

You jumped as you turned your head to see your partner, putting up a fake smile as you nodded.

“Yep, just getting changed for bed Wukong!”

He knew this was a fake response, he knew your genuine smile like the back of his hand.

The way you practically lit up with a twinkle in your eye, oh it’s something he strived to see daily.

He walked up to you and caressed your face with his thumb, a look of loving concern made your stomach do flips.

“Hey, it’s okay if you’re not. I’m not gonna force you to talk to me, that won’t do any good, but I want to help any way I can.”

You leaned your cheek into his grasp as you sighed, “It’s one of those days… You know, the one’s where my head won’t shut up about my body… Some of the voices are things I’ve heard from old peers and those hurt the most…”

As you described what people have said to you in the past, his heart broke.

How could anybody say such awful things to you, his peaches?

His eyes softened more, smiling slightly to comfort you as he kissed your temple.

“Oh peaches, those days suck huh?”

You nodded, “So much it hurts…”

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he held you close, “I’m sorry they hurt, if it makes a difference I love your body just the way it is. I wouldn’t change a thing about ya’.”

You smiled as you kissed him on the lips, finally getting what he came into the room for, ‘It does, thank you.”

Macaque:

(I have a personal HC that Macaque loves plus-sized/chubby people hehe)

Macaque was following you through your shadow as you arrived home, looking for an opportunity to give you a light surprise as he told you he was gonna be held up at work tonight.

(He had done this in the past and you both knew it was all good fun).

He was stopped however when you looked at your reflection with a repulsed look, making him back away as your shadow on the wall with a concerned look, rising from a portal in the doorway.

“M-Macaque? I thought you were gonna be home late tonight!” Your frigid voice asked him, you were clearly on the verge of tears.

A mix of concern and understanding was on his face as he approached you, “They let me go early, the play was rescheduled…”

He took hold of your hands as he looked down at your interlocked fingers, “This isn’t the first time this has happened huh?”

You nodded slightly as he kissed the back of your hands, “Not even close…”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, not wanting to overstep your boundaries because he knew exposing your feelings takes a lot of mental strength.

“Just voices from my past booming in my head, y’know like run-of-the-mill bullies in school…” You described what you went through as a child, making his eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunch up in anger.

Just knowing you were in pain from other people, even if it was in the past enraged him.

He sighed as calmed down, helping you feel better even if for a second was his top priority.

He trailed soft kisses up your arm to your cheek, “I love your body because it’s you sweet cheeks. I love everything about you, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I know that won’t change the thoughts going through your head but it’s a start right?” He pulled his lips away from your cheek as he smiled, making your cheeks flush as you smiled and laughed at his displays of affection.

He nuzzled his nose into your neck, making you laugh again from the ticklish sensation.

“There she is, that’s my girl." He chuckled as he kissed your cheek once again.

#ask #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #lmk macaque x reader #macaque x reader

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hisui555 · 21 days

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Hazbin Hotel Thoughts : Alcohol !

Why yes I saw you click faster than lightning hits a metal kite during a thunderstorm. But I swear it's not clickbait - unlike Vox, I legit try to make things worthwhile.

Alcohol Part 2 here (Vees + Overlords)

Alcohol Part 3 here (Heaven's side)

Masterpost here

So we've had the cast with kids, with a drawing gift, with pets, the natural next stage of that particular road would be indulging in everyone's favorite poison. Ladies, gents and thanes, I present you : the cast when DRUNK.

(Might have multiple parts, as usual, so here's the Hazbin crew).

Courtesy of Husk who has spilled the tea in Ep 4, we have a good idea of how some of the Hazbin Hotel's crew looks like when at least drinking enough to the point of being drunk. Thank you, Husk, a toast to you, Mr Bartender, whomst without this post wouldn't exist.

A note before we begin : this is Hazbin Hotel. There are mentions of substance abuse (and sex) on the regular. Obviously, I personally don't condone them, but I ain't censoring squat about it : it wouldn't even make sense to do as if it was a not-R-18-rating squeaky-clean animation. If you're offended or intimidated, chances are, you shouldn't be watching the show to begin with. I mean, c'mon.

Charlie apparently gets rather emotional (I mean, more than usual, so kudos for managing that), to the point of spouting her insecurities, which allows Husk to say (and mirror what Alastor said) that she "would rather solve everyone else's problems than her own". Apparently the Daddy/Mommy/Parents Issues (TM) come out, making her somewhat an "emotional/complainer" type of drunk. While she doesn't seem against drinking in general - unlike Vaggie in the pilot - even asking Adam if he'd "never had a drink after a hard day", like everything Charlie does you can bet she sees it as a convivial, gathering event to spend time with friends and relax a bit : contrary to her general demeanor and what her puppy-dog eyes let show, she is a grown adult afterall (and over 200 years old, for the reminder).

For her alcohol resistance, well, it's unknown how many drinks she had until she got tipsy enough to let everything pour out, but it shows that, Princess of Hell or not, she's not immune. I would bet a normal threshold on her, someone that has a progressive slipping into drunkeness the more she drinks, instead of getting blackout wasted after two glasses. She'd potentially start feeling the effects after 5 shots or so, and at 15 she's probably wasted.

Vaggie seems to have a sterner relationship with alcohol in the pilot, but in the series proper, does accept drinks and to drink with friends, or if alone, to drink to the point of being drunk at the bar, turning into a self-loathing wreck (also a hint of her past at the time) according to Husk, being a "sour, pessimistic" type of drunk. All her failures and what she hates about herself come back out in the open, so there might be some kind of "sad" type too, suggesting her whole attitude becomes kind of morose and toned-down, with some of her guard dropping. This also shows that her being an ex-Exorcist and fallen angel doesn't make her immune either, though like Charlie it's unknown how many she had before slipping into the realm of drunkeness.

Potentially, given that her guard dropped somewhat (which for someone so defensive, is pretty telling), her alcohol resistance might be lower than Charlie's. Vaggie isn't the type to party recklessly and is more careful in general, so her getting drunk implies she needs fewer glasses to achieve that state. Give her around 6 or 7 shots and it would hit her like a freight train, methinks.

On the other side, Ep 6 shows that Angel can hold his alcohol (and drugs) pretty well : this is someone that's used to party like no tomorrow (see Poison), especially to escape his everyday afterlife. He's fairly functional unless extremely coked up, and the scene at the Consent nightclub shows him indulging in drinks and still have enough of a head on his shoulders to look after Niffty and recognize a bad situation when there's one. Ep 4 shows how he looks when drugged up at the bar with the sharks, where he's mostly the "ecstatic and devil-may-care" type cranked to eleven, but there enough to also notice his drink was spiked - he just chose to let it happen (thankfully, Husk was there to intervene), and the conversation he has with Husk right after shows how aware enough he is of his surroundings, feelings, and of people around him.

Addict and Poison show both how he rides the wave and chooses to let himself get lost in the feeling as a semi-conscious coping mechanism, but also show the cracks in the mask. He's like someone deciding to laugh at a joke to deliberately make the endorphin kick in and relax, taking his mind elsewhere while his body runs on another circuit. Underneath it all, he's painfully aware of what's going on, and when the rush ends, doesn't have the solace of chosing to give into the fuzz anymore, so he quickly seeks another one. When breaking out of that destructive spiral and just drinking for fun, Angel seems to be mostly himself, and being quite the "happy, audacious" type of drunk, which doesn't change much compared to his everyday (maskless) personality - note that with the right people, he doesn't play up the promiscuitous side of himself as much as usual, because he knows he doesn't need it (and that Valentino is wrong in saying he's only worth sex). As he himself says, sex isn't the only thing he's good at.

He'll need to drink quite a lot to be at least tipsy, and even more to be absolutely smashed, so expect at least 20 shots. Yup, he can and will drink you under the table.

Husk is a certified alcoholic ("Cheap Booze" scene in the pilot) and says so himself in Ep 4 : "You can't find the solution to your problems at the bottom of a bottle. I would know, been looking there for a long time." In Ep 6, he's shown being against drugs (or at least the self-destructive method Angel uses them, since he's trying to break out of it, so Husk might have more problems with Angel relapsing into his old destructive ways than getting a kick-up for fun - this is Hell afterall) but not drinking for partying : he can be seen guzzling down bottles on the regular and at the Consent club whops down two shots at the same time. People, you've found your master : that 70s grandpa can take you down anytime. Given that he is (or at least used to be) a gambling addict, one can bet that in the past, the combination of the two didn't helped in making good decisions, but despite being a semi-constant lethargic grump, Husk seems fairly functional on the day to day - and probably grumpy enough to overpower catnip by sheer force of cynism.

Chances are, Husk as we know him is more or less in a semi-permanent drunken state (given how he flops over his bar and leans on his bottles while lizard-blinking his way through the day, seems very likely) that makes him more or less very resistent to further effects : to have him blackout hammered would require unholy amounts of alcohol I don't even want to think about. Might even beat Angel on that one.

Alastor, by Mimzy's account, could even in his life "drink like a sailor and then keep up on the dancefloor" with her, so he seems to have a pretty high tolerance, or at least be physically coherent enough. At the same time though, he "turns into a kitten" with a few fingers of rye, so I'm kinda picturing him as being his dapper, elegant self... while also slurring his words more than Shirley McLain or Ozzie Osbourne. There was a Hunicast where Michael Kovak and Edward Bosco played a drunk Angel and Alastor as per an ask prompt, and Edward gave us a nice insight on what a drunk Alastor would look like : exceptionally cheery, a bit stumbling on his words, with some disjointed thoughts (from memory : "Angel did I ever tell you you were a swell - a sssswell fellow ? [Angel/Michael answering something but getting cut in the middle by a sudden : ] PASS THE COURVOISIER !"), which kinda brings up the "love everyone/finds everything swell" type of drunk, and on Alastor, it's hilarious. It doesn't mean he'll genuinely love the people themselves, but just likes being around them and as the gentleman he is, will dish out compliments to you, the local barman, that unknown person trying to climb the curtains and the coatrack in the corner. He'll turn outright jolly and cheerful at everything, but don't think that makes him any less dangerous. He'll just tear you apart while giggling like a little kid on a sugar high and with just a bit less poise than usual.

Basically, in a physical sense nobody would know he's drunk until he opens his mouth and starts praising everything to high heavens in that unimitable style of his, just less backhanded and more straightforward, and I can picture at least one conversation going as following : "Alastor is... being actually nice ?" "...Oh shit, he's balls-out wasted." Expect him to empty a whole bottle to get to that state. Here you have it, ladies, gents and thanes, Alastor of all people is a happy and funny drunk.

Niffty has shown, in Ep 6 and all its glorious state, that she's a lightweight, to the point of even Angel commenting on it and preventing her to have more : "she's like, ten pounds soaking wet !" and he's not wrong - 4 glasses and she's absolutely gone, cycling through various stages and behaving crazy...er. She's a mix of "hyper", and "emotional", given how she starts bawling when she hearing that she's a mess (which, again... not wrong). Also a bit of "hallucinating" or "slow" type of drunk, since it takes her a while to notice she has changed locations and isn't at the Hotel anymore. While others stick more or less to one type of drunkeness, Niffty hits the whole spectrum, sometimes even all at once, and with the force of a wrecking ball hitting a matchstick jenga tower. It's like a crazy pendulum swinging on all direction axis, a screwy tailspin of half-baked thoughts dictating impulses and, well, not that much different from her habitual self, but on normal she can focus on her tasks. Drunk ? She's a spastic caffeinated squirrel in traffic that has just taken a nice long inhale of, uh, snow.

Getting her passed-out torched is very easy, and if nobody's careful, she'll accidentally do it herself : downing a glass of what she shouldn't even begin to poke at with a ten-foot pole, and keeling over stiff as a board, dead to the world for at least half a day or a full night.

Pentious getting drunk also shows in Ep 6, and exhibits traits of "slow" and "disjointed", or "zoned out" - he slurs his words or drags them ("Heeeeyy...!" to Cherri) and has problems with physical coordination (sliding and flopping down from his seat onto the floor headfirst), while being woozy and fuzzy in the head and badly aligning thoughts (mixing badly with his crush on Cherri). Pentious is somewhat Bad Ideas Incarnate when drunk, though to his own detriment only mostly ("Because... I'm buying everyone a drink/having sex with everyone !"), and again, the proximity of Cherri isn't helping. Otherwise he seems somewhat functional - if unsteady on his feet (snake tail ?) - after a while, like calibrating better after spending some time getting used to the room spinning. He's seen participating a bit in the drinking contest, and does have a few glasses to his name, so my guess is that he isn't used to drinking often and would be around Vaggie's tolerance for alcohol : 6 to 8 before starting to see double.

Cherri is a hard-drinking party girl, she seems to have good tolerance, and it would also take a lot to get her bombed (hah) out of her mind. Also a drug user, as seen, again, in Ep 6, though she's more down for a blast (heh) than anything else. With her fiery (snerk - okay I promise it's the last one) personality, her being drunk doesn't change her much, just taking it to new heights, so she's more a "personality cranked up" type of drunk. I'm already an asshole on my side, imagine if I were to drink. She's in for fun, drink contests ("competitive" type and "funny" type fit her too) and just spending a good time, letting loose and allowing snap decisions just for the hell of it, which corresponds to her general lifestyle ("In fact, I'm gonna fuck the next guy I see !"). Alongside Angel, she will drink you under the table, and will need to scarf down a lot of glasses before feeling and showing the effects. Might have trouble to stop once she gets started, but enjoys every moment of it, and even if she's an enabler (see her trying to get Angel to take drugs again, even if it's a misguided attempt to 'help' him because it's the Angel she knows, also not being against Niffty trying to drink more) probably knows her limits too : she's still aware enough to recognize and rightfully call out Valentino as a threat and a "fucking dickhead", and to check on Angel multiple times to make sure he's having fun ("you're here to relax, not playing nanny !"), showing her loyal but irresponsible side.

She might encourage others to drink and let loose even if it's counterproductive at the time, but always backs off when told "no" and respectfully accepts their choices even when already having a few drinks in her, so she's not a confrontative type of drunk either. Again, might need around 15-20 shots to start feeling it and become explosive (...I may have lied) but in a fun way.

Lucifer might be the King of Hell, but as Charlie and Vaggie demonstrate, being angelic or part-angel doesn't make anyone immune to alcohol. I can see him being incredibly hard to get wasted (even more than Husk)... or actually getting wasted sooner than anyone thinks, but he's such a goofy oddball already that it doesn't show and nobody realizes until the end of the party, where he frog-blinks into the void and the next stiff breeze knocks him over and straight on his back like a falling billboard. Even when he opens his mouth, it doesn't show, because everyone is used to his inane ramblings : one word, ducks. He'll be the "funny" and "depressed" drunk at the same time, saying the saddest and most disturbing shit with a cheerful voice and jolly demeanor, but most of all the "rambling" and "embarrassing" type of drunk : Charlie better take cover because those baby stories and pictures will leak out to everyone's except her delight. They might try to get Lucifer to drink more to squeeze more info out of him... though he has surprising bouts of lucidity in-between, and nobody knows when. He'll also deny being drunk but ask what that clown-dragon is doing on your shoulder in the same breath.

Husk might find his match (at least on the surface), and the real challenge comes to knowing when he has hit his threshold. The Hazbin crew might make a game out of it, because while Lucifer can hit a lot of the drunkeness spectrum following how he cycles through emotions (having depression doesn't help), he's the "secretely drunk" type for sure.

Next parts will be, as usual, the Vees + the Overlords, and Heaven's side. Might even do something about the following results, lemme place an evil grin here, hangovers.

Again, Masterpost here.

Edit : here's the clip with Edward Bosco playing Drunk!Alastor (with Michael Kovak as Angel Dust) at a Hunicast. While the animatic is the channel owner's entirely, the voice clips belong to the voice actors.

youtube

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jennay · 8 months

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Ex-Husband (2)

Bitter

An: Mentions of child loss. Also I tried editing this so many times and it never got better. I just kept getting frustrated. I ran through it one more time before being ok with this one. I hope you guys enjoy it though and I’m sorry it’s sad!

Master list

You look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, feeling self-loath. You remember Kieran's words: "Be yourself." But you don't want to be yourself. You want to erase your past and start over somewhere new. Somewhere where no one knows who you are or what you've done. Somewhere where you can lie and pretend to be a good person who never hurt anyone. Somewhere where you don't have to face the demons inside you.

You open the drawer, pull out the little bottle of your anxiety medication, and swallow two tiny pills.

Memories flood your mind as you walk down the hallway. You thought taking down the picture would've helped remove the pain, but it didn't. Now, you stare at empty walls, plagued by the traces of what used to be there. The faded outlines of frames and nails mock you with their emptiness. You stop at the closed bedroom and stare at it, feeling a knot in your throat. You don't know if you can ever enter it again. You don't know if you can face the reminders of what you lost.

You urge yourself to keep walking, and when you reach the living room, you snatch your purse and anything else you might need. You secure your doors and step outside.

Of course, it's raining as if today wasn't hard enough already. You pull your hood over your head and sprint to your car, swiftly unlocking it and tossing your stuff on the passenger's seat.

You start the engine, fastening the seatbelt with extra care. You've seen the consequences of a loose buckle and how a split second can change everything. You still feel the guilt gnawing at your chest.

You rest your head on the steering wheel and let out a shaky breath. “Damn it.” You curse as tears cloud your vision. You lean back and wipe them away. You have to keep it together.

Your phone rings through the Bluetooth speaker. You glance at the screen and see Rory’s name. You know what he wants but aren’t sure if you want to talk to him.

You sigh, knowing you’re breaking your promise. You’re not moving on; you’re still letting him contact you. Seeing him at Jazz's birthday party a few weeks ago almost sent you into another spiral. Why are you doing this? Were you that lonely?

You feel weak knowing you continue to let him text and call you, but at the same time, talking to him feels safe and almost comfortable.

Out of desperation for someone to soothe you, you answer.

"Hey," You say while pulling out of your driveway. You try your best to smile as you speak, hoping he won't hear the sadness in your voice.

"Hey, um. I was just calling to check on you. See how you're doing." He softly says, "Uh, how are you?"

Your eyes threaten to water again. "Shitty." You say, feeling like a broken record that keeps playing the same sad song over and over.

"Me too." He admits. "I was going to go visit her." You can hear the weakness in his voice as he tries to compose himself. "It being her birthday and all, I think she would like us there."

You never thought this was something you'd go through. You never knew heartbreak like this. If someone had told you ten years ago this would be your life, you would have laughed. Your life wasn't some fucked up tragedy.

"Yeah." You quietly say.

"Do you want me to meet you there, or can we drive together? I don't mind picking you up," Rory speaks with uncertainty. He didn't know how to talk to you anymore. He tried to keep things light-hearted and superficial, never getting too deep.

"I'm driving right now." You bite your bottom lip, wondering if you should offer to come to his house.

"Oh," Rory sounds surprised like he didn't think you'd leave bed today. "I can meet you there."

You deeply sigh, "Let me come pick you up. I'm close to you anyway."

"Yeah, I'll just get ready. Text me when you're here. I'll see you shortly."

"Yep, bye." You click the end button, unsure if you made the right decision.

You turn the radio on and do your best to escape your feelings as you continue to Rory's new home. The songs don't help you ignore your feelings like you'd planned. You turn off the radio and drive in silence until you arrive at Rory's house, and when you park on the curb, you text him. Here.

Seconds later, the door opens with a loud creak, and you slightly jump from the sudden sound. You look up and see Rory standing there, holding the door handle. He's wearing a gray zip-up sweater, flannel underneath, and plain blue jeans. He looks comfortable, but his eyes are tense and anxious.

You stare at Rory briefly before grabbing your things to make space for him. "Sorry. I have stuff everywhere." You speak fast as you try to throw some things in the back seat quickly. Talking on the phone was one thing, but sitting next to him brought feelings of discomfort.

“I thought it was supposed to be nice today…” He sighs, gazing at the dark clouds and the raindrops on the window. His voice tinged with sadness.

“The world doesn’t owe us anything.” You reply, sounding harsh.

You feel his eyes on you, searching and questioning you. The way you responded was unexpected. This bitter woman wasn't you.

You hate that he makes you feel weak and exposed and doubt your decisions.

“Stop.” You snap at him, trying to sound angry and confident but only sounding hurt and insecure. “Don't make me doubt myself for letting you in again.” You warn.

He shakes his head, shoulders slumped in defeat. He looks away from you as if avoiding your eyes. He breathes out heavily, revealing his exhaustion.

Rory knows this isn't the best time to bring this up, but he needs to get it off his chest, and after today, who knows when he'll see you again? “You know, I didn’t divorce you to hurt you.” He says in a quiet voice as if admitting a mistake. “I did it because I thought it would be better for both of us. I hoped you would heal and move on like I've tried to.” He meets your gaze again, his blue eyes filled with pain and longing. “I still love you and want the best for you.” He adds softly, making your heart clench. “But I couldn’t stay with you like this. It was tearing me apart to see you suffer and not be able to help you. I felt like I lost both of you.”

“So you decided to leave me alone in that house by myself with all of our things and all of her things and expected me to heal? How could you be so heartless?” You bite your lip, holding back the tears that threaten to spill. “You know what? Forget it..” You say, shaking your head. "I needed my husband...that's what I needed, and you walked away so easily."

“I didn’t want to leave you and it sure as fuck wasn’t easy! (Y/n), you stopped trying! She was gone for a full year! I didn’t know how to deal with it either. There was no guide for what we went through.” He tries to explain, but you can’t listen to him.

You scoff, “Yeah, right. Blame it on me. That’s what you always do. I get it!”

You pull into the cemetery’s parking lot and hastily park the car as if trying to escape him. The sky is a dull gray, reflecting your mood. The air is cold and damp, making you shiver.

You avoid looking at him as you leave the vehicle. You can feel his eyes on you, full of questions, when he sees you approaching him instead of walking away like you usually would. You pull the car door open and glare at him like you’re going to scold him, but your eyes soften when you see him lower his head, “You act like I don’t understand what you’re going through,” He whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “I lost Gracie too, remember?” He reminds you.

You shake your head, tears filling your eyes and streaming down your face. "No, you don't understand. You don't have to live with knowing you're the reason she's gone." You say bitterly, feeling resentment towards him. "You have a life, a future, a chance to be happy again. I have nothing. Nothing but this pain that won't go away." You say, pointing at your chest.

He reaches out to touch your hand, but you pull away.

"Don't." You warn him. "Don't try to comfort me. Don't try to make me feel better. Don't try to pretend that everything is going to be okay because it's not." You say.

He gets out of the car and stands next to you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to him, ignoring your protests and struggles. He’s getting better at ignoring your spew of mean words.

He holds you tight as if afraid to let you go. He kisses the top of your head and whispers in your ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most.." His voice trembles with emotion. "But we can find a way to heal and move on." He says, hoping his words will reach you and make you feel something other than anger.

You stop fighting and let him hold you, exhausted and drained from the emotional turmoil.

"I'm tired of being like this." You mutter against his chest. "I don't want to be like this, but it hurts so much." You confess.

He gently rubs your back, trying to soothe you. "I know." He kisses your temple, feeling your tears wet his skin. "Let me help you."

But you don't want his help. You fear he'd abandon you again.

You shove him away, escaping his embrace. You stare at him with a blend of sorrow and fury. “You can’t help me.” You snap, turning your back on him. “I don’t deserve to be happy again.” You nearly choked on your words, part of you knowing it wasn't true.

Rory’s mouth falls open, stunned by your words. He watches you walk away from him, feeling powerless and hopeless. He wishes he could make you forgive yourself, but he knows he can’t. He knows he’s losing you and fears it won’t be just mentally much longer.

Part 3

#rory culkin fanfic #rory culkin #rory culkin x you #rory culkin x reader #roryculkin #culkin cult #ex husband 2

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feralxsteddie · 1 year

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The plot bunny had to be put out of it's misery, Eddie working at a country club au bc why the fuck not

Eddie didn't ask for this summer job. Not once had he clasped his hands together in prayer every night praying to the good Lord to make him a fucking cabana boy or golf cart jockey or whatever he was assigned to do that day.

However he would rather burn his dnd monster manuals than tell his uncle Wayne he was ever ungrateful for anything he gave him, whether he liked it or not. Every time he felt like pulling his hair out and storming out of the place, he'd just remind himself that Wayne's work buddy 'knew a guy that could get him a pretty good summer gig, they're hiring a ton of people and could put in a good word for ya'- and he didn't want to make make a poor showing on Wayne's behalf, who had the work ethic of a damn horse.

So here he stood in the lobby of Sandalwood Ranch , or as it was known to the more nosy patrons and their friends of the country club, 'scandalwood'. Dressed in stiff khaki shorts and a white uniform polo, at least they didn't give too much of a stink about his rings, left him a little bit of personalization, it also helped that the guy Wayne knew was apparently the general manager of the staffing. 4 days out of the week he would be driving golf carts, chatting it up with patrons who saw him as a novelty while they played their course. Sometimes he'd be manning a drink cart, those were pretty good days , at least the tips were good.

On his second week there he ran into Robin Buckley from school, fellow lower class associate also working at Indiana's biggest country club. She usually was stuck cleaning locker rooms or fetching drinks for people in the lounge, they'd give each other a knowing nod in passing and on days they were put together on a shift they could find things to talk about to make the time go by. There was a certain bond between them, of which they found out was a queer one after one day catching each other eyeing a certain couple walking through the tennis courts .

Eddie was busying himself with folding towels and stocking them in the bin, while Robin was leaning over the counter of the service cart they were in charge of today, head in her hands with a dazed look in her eye. Eddie followed the eyeline and landed on no one other than Steve Harrington, which he wasn't surprised to see- and Nancy Wheeler, a little more surprised but still she fit in well enough.

The preppy couple stood there in their almost matching tennis outfits, like they were on set for an issue of Sports illustrated. Eddie, as loath he was to admit it, was one of the many poor souls in Hawkins that found Harrington attractive.

A tiny crush that started during a shared gym class years ago, dodgeball as he remembers fondly, getting beamed in the head by a textured red rubber ball lobbed by one of the burlier jocks sure did rattle his brain for a second. While he was shaking off the fuzz balls that lingered in the corners of his vision he opened his eyes to Steve standing over him ,with a hand held out, because no only was he already alarmingly handsome and charming for his age he could also show great sportsmanship in the form of pulling up a gangly limbed Munson from the floor and helping him dust of his shoulders. Even had the damn sense to tell the coach he should be excused to go to the nurses office to make sure he didn't have a concussion. After handing him an ice pack wrapped in a flimsy paper towel Harrington apologized on behalf of his apparent friend, then with a sheepish grin told him to take it easy and sauntered out of the office after doing his good deed of the day. It was infuriating, and because Eddie had many issues that he wouldn't ever address, held that flame to this day.

As if on cue a coordinated sigh punched out of both Eddie and Robin, upon hearing the other's exasperation they turned to each other with mirrored eyebrow ticks.

"You?" Robin mumbled quietly as she looked down, suddenly very on task in wiping down the countertop. Eddie dropped his towel into the bin and shouldered his way next to Robin tapping her elbow with his own.

"Steve, right? Yeah I get it, as if the girls swooning as he walks past the lockers isn't evidence enough that everyone is obsessed with him-"

Robin cut him off before he could ramble out something ridiculous. "Right, yeah Steve sure- and Nancy?" She looked at him with a sort of spark in his eye, a million unspoken questions shooting off between them like electric signals. Maybe this was their thing now, the universe put the two only gay kids in Hawkins together so they could gawk over the rich pretty kids together in some sort of poor man solidarity.

"I mean, yeah I didn't think this was her kind of scene but I guess she's here with Harrington. I thought they broke up though."

"I thought so too, I guess not even the smartest kid in Hawkins high is immune to the Harrington charm" Eddie replied, the couple in question had fully turned around now, back to the tennis courts and in the direction of the service cart. Robin checked Eddie in the shoulder and it was undeniable the intention of her next words. "Guess nerds are just Harrington's type, huh?" Eddie stared her down, and she gave him a once over , tilting her head in question. With his face scrunched up in tentative concern he nodded. She nodded, just then both of their postures relaxed by a significant amount.

Well. That was that.

After that mini revelation they turned back to watch the pair. They were still too far to tell but Wheeler had to have pointed in their direction, and told Harrington something that made him laugh. Suddenly they were walking in sync toward the cart, toward the two employees who were most certainly not doing their jobs right now.

"Hey! I thought you two looked familiar!" Steve flashed a megawatt smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, Eddie suddenly felt a little like a mouse being carried toward a den of very, hungry snakes. Nancy caught up to him, her dainty hands wringing over the handle of her racket, eyes locked onto a now very pink cheeked Robin.

Eddie adjusted the visor on his head, planting his hands on the counter and leaning toward the two in front of them. "Aye, King Steve and Lady Nancy. We- " Eddie tapped his name tag and Robin's in respective order, to which the other girl swatted his hand away with a huff. "Are at your service, how may we assist you today?" He ended with a flourish of his hands, presenting the cart filled with towels and water bottles. Steve gave him a contemplating look, leaned down to whisper something to Nancy who seemed to shrug in reply, tight lipped smile unwavering.

"Well if you're offering, we were wondering if you two were up for a match. We were planning to play doubles but our friends ditched us after lunch. How about it Munson? Buckley?"

–

Thirty minutes later, Eddie was on a tennis court, holding a rental racket trying his damnedest to not stare at Steve's impressive behind as across the court Nancy was setting up a serve.

#steddie #ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #lil bit of side ronance if you squint #slightly based off of that one part of the movie maya was in and a ten minute Pinterest search #n writes stuff #steddie fic

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shawncantwrite · 7 months

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I know you've been hurt in this walk of life. (let me find my shoes, I will walk with you.) - A Larissa Weems x Reader hurt/comfort fic.

A/N: purely self indulgent. as previously mentioned on the last episode of dragon ball z, my partner of two years broke up with me. On top of that, I've been relapsing because I'm oh so smart, but enough of the sob story, Have this fic I coughed up during my Depressive episode

This isn't proofread because, well, my proofreader dumped me 😭

TW: Self-depricating thoughts, Self-harm, implied child abuse, just the sads all around

Your life was shit. Pure unadulterated shit. It feels like from the moment you were born the universe was out to get you, like every circumstance was a "fuck you" to the face. Nothing ever went right for you. For starters, your parents were the absolute worse. They were constantly breathing down your neck about your grades and about how you present yourself in public, gotta protect their image they would say. From a young age you had to act older than you ever should have had to. Then in highschool everything just came crashing down on you, fear of the future, dread from the past... you finding out you were an outcast was just the cherry on top; it was one thing for you to be your family burden, but now you're also a blood sucking monster! Just your luck.

Life was a sea you were drowning in constantly, you felt as if there wasn't a day where water wasn't in your lungs and your mind wasn't constantly belittling you. It was tiring, exhausting, whatever else is synonymous. You just want it to stop. You wanted to feel something other than your emptiness, your constant dread of a lack of purpose.

Maybe that's when it started.

The first time was an accident. You were working on a school project and was cutting up some cardboard for a model, unfortunately you're a clutz and you accidentally dropped your cutter. You winced and grabbed your wrist which was now bleeding. Oddly enough though... you didn't really mind. You'd blamed the vampirism then but.. then you found that the cuts on your wrist went from accidental to on purpose.It was a dumb idea now that you think about it, you realise that now, maybe not then. You wanted to feel something, anything. The stinging sensation of the blade piercing your flesh was intoxicating, it hurt, but it hurt so comfortably. You found solace in it, no matter how morally grey it seemed.

But now, several years later, standing in front of your bathroom sink and staring down at the very same flesh you've abused all theseyears you can't help but loathe the scars you made. It's entirely your fault, you think, but that doesn't make you hate it any less. You stare and stare, each scar a reminder of how miserable you were, how pathetic you were.

It was a reminder of what life was like before her.

Larissa was a breath of fresh air in your miserable life. If you walked around with a rain cloud above your head she was the one holding and offering you an umbrella. She made your life a little bit more tolerable simply by being in it. Ever since meeting Larissa, you've noticed you've made some good changes to yourself. One of them being that you were almost half a year clean from cutting yourself!

..Almost.

Your hands grip the edge of the sink tightly, fighting back tears as you stare at two fresh scars you made the night before. That familiar feeling of dread filled you again, blinding yourself from seeing reason. Relapse is normal, Larissa once said, but you refused to tell her, you didn't want to disappoint her.

Then again, nobodys more disappointed in you than you are.

You're so lost in your self-loathing that you fail to hear the front door to your apartment open, Larissa had a spare key, you felt it was only right for her to have one by your 7th monthasarry. She calls out for you from the living room, but you're too busy hating the person in the mirror to realise that.It's only too late when you realise. The door to the bathroom clicked open, your angel's voice filled with such worry over your silence. You're like a puppy around Larissa, the moment she's back in your vicinity you're like a dog missing it's owner and suddenly you're all over her. Not tonight, though. Tonight you were quiet. Tonight you were staring at yourself and your scars, hating yourself like you always do.

It's only then you look up to stare at her, she's quick to be by your side her hands rough, a testament to her hardwork, yet so soft and gentle when handling you. She grabs onto your wrist and notices the fresh scar from the night before, her beautiful oceanic eyes painted with deep worry.

She takes you to your bedroom and sits you down. She's talking, but it all feels like it's underwater to you, you felt like the world and everything around you wasn't real at the moment, with nothing but the ringing in your ears distracting you. You try to make out what she's saying but ultimately give up. She's cleaning your wound, you notice, she's taken a first aid kit and she's making sure your cut is properly disinfected. Her touch is so soft and caring, it almost makes you tear up and cry. You stare at her, her eyes fixated on her task. You take a moment to admire her, her beautiful blonde hair, the way her brows furrow and her nose scrunches when she's focused.. for a moment, you're lifted from the tide and you can see clearly; you see her. Your Larissa, Your love.

When you realise those blue eyes are staring back at you, that's when you notice you seem to have regained your grasp on reality, she's looking at you with such warmth yet such worry, you feel bad for burdening her, but you've never been a burden, not to her, no. She adores you. She wishes you could see that.

"Are you okay?" Her words finally register, you blink at her, unsure what to say. Are you okay? You don't know yourself, honestly. She can see the conflict going on in your mind and hums, as if understanding something, her hand hovers over your cheek, a silent question in her eyes. You press your cheek into her palm and nuzzle into it, your eyes closing at the warmth and familiarity of her touch. Her eyes soften at that, her thumb caressing your cheek.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You shake your head, finding yourself unable to speak. She nods in understanding and the two of you stay there for a while, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

Eventually, She moved you further onto the bed. Her heels were discarded somewhere across the room, her coat hanging against the headboard, you stare up at her as she situates you so that your head lay on your chest, the steady rise and fall of chest calming your nerves and anxiety that you didn't even realise was there.

Silence falls between you two again, but you don't mind at all. Her hand mindlessly draws shapes on your back with her fingers. You bury yourself in her embrace, her touch alone lifting away all your worries... well.. almost all of them. You felt the need to open up to her but you hesitate, that same old voice in the back of your head telling you not to bother her with your pathetic whines. But as you look up at her and you find her staring back at you with nothing but love and warmth.. you can't help but let the dam loose.

You lay there and open up about everything, how tired you've felt recently, how disgusting you feel especially when it comes to your scars. You want to cry, but you can't, so you just kept it all in until you couldn't anymore. As you rant, She listens to you intently, her eyes filled with nothing but understanding and care. When you end your small tangent, she brings your wrist up to her face and presses a kiss to it.

"Thank you for telling me," She whispers softly, her lips pressing against the skin of your wrist, you shiver at the contact, confused as to what she's doing. She continues to kiss your wrist.. no, your scars, you notice, and you watch in silence, your eyes curious yet filled with warmth.

She takes her time with each one, each kiss soft and meaningful. You could feel the pure love radiating off of her, it was overwhelming. It nearly made you cry, but what really did it were her next words."I know I can't do much to help you see yourself the way I see you." She mutters against your skin, her eyes reading into yours.

"But not once have I ever found you pathetic or disgusting, nor have I ever thought you were a burden." She pulls away from your wrist and caresses your cheek once again, her gaze filled with sincerity. You listen to her, clinging onto each word, the familiar feeling of warmth from her comfort already lifting the weigh on your shoulders.

"And most of all," She grabs your wrist with her free hand, her fingers gliding across the skin. "These scars... while the way they got there is.. unconventional. They're a testament to how resilient you are, how resilient you have been."

"I will never view them as disgusting, because despite everything, they still make up the person that you are, and I love you all the same. And I'll continue to do so, For as long as you'll have me."

Tears sting your eyes, but not in a bad way, never in a bad way with Larissa. Your heart was swelling with such gratitude and love for the woman before you. You can't help but stammer like an idiot, your tears spilling down your cheek. It was an embarrassing sight, you're sure of it, but not to her, she wipes away every tear wordlessly, no judgement or mockery in her eyes. Just pure unfiltered love, love you never recieved growing up, love you needed all this time, love you deserved, love she offered.

As you fall asleep that night with her arms wrapped around you and the steady beating of her heart lulling you to sleep, you come to the conclusion that living isn't so bad, as long as you had your Larissa.

#larissa weems x reader #I am hanging on by a thread #Waaaaaaa #Hurt and comfort yayyy #This isn't cash money #It's fine I'll be okay #Just some sadness with comfort #It's funny I posted this on kinktober #Because I'm probably going to read a smut fic after this #You will too #This is also on ao3 I think I don't remember hahahahah

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emilyssky · 1 year

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Chapter 4: City Lights And Past Lives.

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, chocking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."

Minho's POV:

1 year ago.

I solved my phone back in my pocket, choosing to ignore Jisung's messages. I know I'm probably being a dick right now, but he's used to it and he understands. That's one of the things I like about him. He doesn't ask much, he simply knows. He knows when he has to push me and when he has to let me push myself. I take another puff of the remaining bits of my cigarette and throw it on the ground. I lift my hood, trying to protect the sides of my face from the cold, but I keep shivering. My brain is so numb right now that the physical pain is the only thing that I can feel. On days like this, I honestly miss being 16 and getting my ass kicked by my dad, cause at least then the pain in my body was stronger than the voices in my head. As the years went by I found other ways though. As much as I hated him, I got addicted to the pain. I used it as my own personal punishment. The self-loath that he caused me made me crave it. I found similar pain in things like drugs and alcohol and started getting off by inflicting pain on others. Girls I would use and dump, friends I would treat like shit, people that would try to help me that I would lie to. I did anything to remind myself that I had power. That I wasn't the scared little boy he would beat the shit out of. I wasn't someone who was only capable of kneeling and taking beatings. I was strong. I was in control. I wasn't the one in pain.

I didn't wanna deal with anything. Or anyone. And I know that running away from you're problems is not doing shit. I know that I have to go back and deal with this but right now, I just want the world to be quiet. I want everything to go away for a few minutes so that I can have some space to fucking breathe. I jog up the stairs that lead to the roof. I've been coming here whenever I wanted to just get away for a little. This place was already at the top of my 'fuck everything, I wanna be alone' list, but since that night, I've been coming here kinda hoping to see her again. I know that that's not actually what I want. I can't deal with another confrontation, but I want the silence that came with her. It was like all my walls were replaced with mirrors and as she talked my mind backed off more and more, leaving me completely alone, listening. I was listening. For the first time, someone didn't force me to talk about anything or explain myself. All I had to do was sit and listen to her comforting me. Reminding me that; it's going to be okay. After that night, her words lived in my head rent-free. You know how most people have a song that, whenever everything goes to shit, they just put their headphones on and simply listen to it, and for these 3-4 minutes everything else fades away. That's how I kept her in my mind. Like a comfort song that I've been having on repeat ever since then. I force my legs to climb the last flight of stairs, finally reaching the top. I tilt my head a bit, looking at the half-open door with confusion. It's almost 4 in the morning. I place my hand on the door handle, and just as I'm about to pull it even more open, a figure flashes through the small gap of the open door. I move my head further into the door's opening, narrowing my eyes, trying to spot the person again, but the moon being the only source of light, doesn't help. They step into my line of vision again. The long hair makes me realise that it's a girl. She extends her foot and lifts herself up in a fouetté, which I instantly recognise. Her turns are surprisingly clean. Her body keeps moving around the roof, occasionally leaving my limited line of vision. Her back is facing me, not allowing me to see her face. I stand there behind the door, completely magnetised by her dance. She must be a student here. I lean a bit forward trying to catch a glimpse of her face as she jumps and turns. She bends her back backwards, her head and hands handing beautifully and I freeze. I realise that the huge amount of weed that I've smoked hasn't made me completely numb after all cause I swear I just felt my heart skipping a beat. Her eyes are closed as she stays in position, rolling her head and hands to the music that's probably coming from the Air-pods that are now visible in her ears. Her face twitches with emotion and my hold on the door tightens. It's her. Questions, questions, questions. So many questions run through my head. So many emotions overwhelm me. Fuck, I must be so too high right now. I've thought about her way more than I like to admit. Now she stands here, in front of me. And I don't move, I stay hidden behind the door, watching her dance with tears on her face. I don't wanna talk to her. I don't wanna know her name or why she's crying. I just wanna watch her. And the more I do the more my heart tightens cause the memories that she awakes hurt. She dances so much like Mia, that it's ridiculous, I swear I see her face at some point. I know that I only hurt myself more by sitting here and watching her but I'm completely mesmerised by the way she moves. She's the perfect combination of uncontrollable passion and technique. She's using so much power in such a tender and light way, that I'm jealous. I miss dancing like that. I miss the emotional freedom that I felt whenever I danced. I let myself slide down the side of the wall soundlessly, and rest my head against it. There she is again. My little mirror.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Y/n's POV: The next few days went by in a blur. Wake up, go to class, come home, practice, and go to sleep. Every day is basically the same but I'm not really bothered by it, routine is good, I like having a routine. It's safe. It doesn't make me anxious and everything is scheduled. Dance has been hard though. Correction after correction, my annoyance grew. I was making no progress.

"I don't know y/n. Isn't it a bit short?" Emma is standing in front of the mirror, tugging her tight blue dress down, unsuccessfully.

"Em, you look fucking amazing. Blue is the perfect colour for blondes, and you're boobs look incredible." I praise her in an attempt to boost her almost nonexistent confidence as I put my hoops on. "Seungmin is going to be hard from the minute you walk in, bet" I stand beside her in the mirror, taking a look at myself. We look completely different. She's wearing a blue strapless dress with white heels that make her almost as tall as I am. Her long blonde hair falls in loose curls down her bare back and her light makeup looks almost flawless. On the other hand, I'm wearing leather pants that are tight around my waist but a bit baggier around my thighs and a simple strapless black top. I've straightened my naturally curly hair and kept my makeup the same as every time with black eyeliner and a dark red colour on my lips.

"You're one to talk." She bumps her hip to mine "You're hot as hell"

"Stop" I roll my eyes, smiling at her.

"Is Chan picking us up?" She asks as she fills her purse with makeup and other stuff.

"Um no, Hyunjin's picking us up." I grab my jacket and walk to the living room. Emma follows shortly.

"Great, are they going to text you when-"

My phone interrupts her and we smile at each other. Hyunjin's name flashes across the screen. Wow, he's actually on time, that's a first. I answer and put him on speaker.

"We're here bitches." Hyunjin yells.

"We'll be down in five." I say and hang up.

"Let's go." Emma says with excitement and we walk out the door.

Felix rolls down his window from the passenger's seat and lets out a loud whistle. "Damn." He yells.

"Hello ladies," Hyunjin says as we enter the car.

"Hey," I say. "You're exactly on time. I'm proud of you.."

"Okay, you're both hot" Hyunjin comments as he drives off.

"You sound surprised. " Emma says and I giggle.

"You know what I mean" Hyunjin's eyes are focused on the road as he speaks.

"Is Jisoo not coming?" I ask.

"No, Seungmin only invited us, and since I don't really know them that long I didn't wanna push it and ask to bring someone else. Plus, we're not 'together ' together anyway." he shrugs.

"Come on now, you've been seeing each other for like, a year and you're completely obsessed with her." They've been fucking around for so long but even though they never made it official, we all know that they have feelings for each other.

"I'm not, shut up" Hyunjin tries to contain his smile.

After a few minutes, we pull to an apartment complex.

"It's not far from our apartment. " Emma comments as walks to the door.

"We could stay over at your place if we get too wasted and none of us can drive. It's like 10 minutes away." Hyunjin says.

"Sure, we'll probably have an extra bed anyway 'cause Em will hopefully not come home tonight." I wrap my hand around her shoulders.

"If you're anything like that in front of him, I'll physically hurt you." She attempts to threaten me but both me and the boys just laugh.

The music can be heard from down the hall, and we had to ring the bell at least 5 times before a guy opened the door.

"Hi" he smiles at us.

"Hi, Jeongin" Emma gives him a quick hug. The guys simply nod at him and follow Emma inside the apartment.

"Hi, I'm y/n" I shake his hand.

"I know, Chan told me you were coming. It's nice to meet you, I'm Jeongin" He has a nice smile. He's tall, with dark hair, brown eyes, and perfect eyebrows. He looks like he could be a model.

I take a step to his left, inside."Is Chan here?" I lean into him a bit cause it's so crowded in here that I could easily get lost.

"Yeah, I think he's in the kitchen." He says, closing the door. Emma, Hyunjin, and Felix have already disappeared. There are more people than I was expecting, Emma made it sound like it was a private party, but there are at least 60 people here.

"The kitchen.." I trail off as I look through the crowd, trying to find it. I hear him laugh from behind me.

"Come with me" He touches my back lightly before moving in front of me, guiding me to the kitchen. I instantly spot Chan's blond hair. He's with Changbin and some other people pouring shots.

"Hi" I go up to him from behind and he instantly smiles when he sees it's me. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are flushed.

"Oh my god, heyyyyy" He pulls me into a hug and I giggle.

"Are you drunk already?" I love drunk Chan. He hardly drinks that much but when he does he's one of the funniest people ever.

"Tipsy," he corrects me pointing a finger at me "Tipsy is the right word dear"

He pours two more shots and he gives one to me and one to Jeongin who's still standing beside me.

"Let's get it" Changbin yells and we all drown our shots. . . .

The energy in this house is crazy and at this point, everyone is pretty much drunk, including me and I'm loving it. I found myself dancing on tables, playing games, chatting with people, and actually smiling. For a moment I felt like my old self again and I wanted to keep that feeling for as long as I possibly can. So I drank more and danced more until the thoughts in my head about what I should and shouldn't do were gone. Currently, Emma and Seungmin are nowhere to be found, Felix has been following Hyunjin's drunk ass around cause he has thrown up 2 times already, Chan is playing beer pong with Changbin and some other girls and I'm dancing with Jisung and Jeongin. Turns out Jisung is a really good dancing partner and has been filling up Hyunjin's spot all night. Well, I did threaten him not to leave my side. Jeonjin is also a really nice guy, super funny, and easy to be around. Even if I don't wanna admit it, my eyes have been searching for Minho ever since I got here but he's nowhere to be found. I know I shouldn't really care, he hasn't been particularly nice to me but that doesn't really stop my growing curiosity about him. The temperature in the room is incredibly hot. My hair is sticking to my back and I feel like my whole face is on fire, the amount of alcohol that I've consumed doesn't really help. My breaths are getting shorter and sharper as I push my body to move to the music between Jisung and Jeongin. The minute I feel my stomach turning I knew I had to slow down for a bit. I needed air.

"I'm going to get some air, I'm sweating so fucking much." I yell over the music to both of them. Jeongin pulls me closer to him by my elbow.

"Do you want me to take you?" He says to my ear. Jeongin has been my guide through the house the entire night. He's taken me to his room to leave my stuff, and to the bathroom, and he showed me around the kitchen and the rest of the bedrooms. Emma was right, this place is huge.

"No, I got this one." I reassure him. I make my way upstairs and walk down the hall, to the last room, where we left our stuff. I remember that there was a small balcony and when I open the door, I'm happy to see that I remembered correctly. I carefully pull open the small balcony door oven and step out, letting the cool air hit my skin. My ears are ringing from the loud music, my eyes can't really focus on anything and my mind is a blur, unable to think about anything. In this moment I find myself smiling, cause in this moment everything is silent. The apartment is pretty high up, giving the guys access to an incredible view. I notice a small flight of stairs to my left. I look at them curiously, before slowly walking up, my drunken state not making it easy for me. When I reached the top, I looked around only to realise that I'm on a small rooftop. My eyes light up at the sight and a giggle escapes me. Rooftops make me happy. I wish our apartment had one.

"Okay, now who's stalking who?" A low voice says and my head snaps to the left. Minho's sitting on the floor with a cigarette between his lips. There he is. Has he been up here this whole time?

"I didn't even know you were here." I protest, taking a step forwards but stumbling a bit on my own feet.

Minho let out a low raspy laugh. "How come every time we meet on a rooftop you're always drunk? " He snorts "Is that like a thing? Whenever you get drunk you search for a rooftop?"

I keep my eyes on the sky in front of me. "I like rooftops," I smile as I begin to walk aimlessly around. "Something about being so high, no walls around me, a clear view of the sky, makes me feel like I'm on top of the world, it calms me down." I grab the railing and take a look downwards to see how far up are we.

"Get away from the railing, you're drunk." Minho's voice comes out louder than before. I look at him over my back. He's now standing, his cigarette rests between his fingers and his eyes are set on my figure.

Interesting.

I turn around, resting my back on the trailing, my hands still gripping it tightly.

Deja vu.

"Or what?" I giggle and lean backward just a bit more. He takes a quick step forward, his free hand extended towards me.

"Y/n, I'm not fucking around, get away." His tone is demanding and his eyes are hard, jaw set. My drunk mind finds his face funny.

"You're funny." I smile at him. He takes a few more steps, carefully.

"I'm not joking." His voice gets low again.

My eyes spark with excitement. "Oops" I lean back furthermore, but his hand comes around my waist pulling me away.

"Do you wanna die?" He says, staring down at me. I know he's half joking but my mouth opens before my mind can think.

"That would be a good way to go." I half smile.

His eyebrows draw together "What?"

"I mean it would be easier right?" I tilt my head at him "It wouldn't be entirely my fault. She got drunk and she fell off the roof sound better than anything else that would make me look weak right?" His face is unreadable, or maybe shocked I can't really tell. He drops his hand from my waist but doesn't say a word. "But either way, I'm weak right Minho?" I say, waving my hands. He clears his throat and looks away from my eyes.

"That's not what I meant I-"

"Cut the bullshit, I know what you meant." A sudden wave of emotions runs through me and I raise my voice slightly. "But let's get one thing straight, you don't know anything." I move closer to him. "You don't know anything about me or what happened. You're so quick to judge me and call me weak and stupid but you don't know shit."His expression changes slightly. A flash of emotion in his eyes that wasn't there before, he opens his mouth and then closes it again. His lips turn into a line and then he exhales loudly.

"It's not like that. I was just trying to help."He finally says.

"I don't need your help Minho. I don't want your fucking pity." I say through my teeth.

His eyebrows furrowed at my words. "I don't pity you y/n" He grabs my hand and without realising it I flinch lightly. He takes a sharp breath, his eyes widening only for a second before he drops his grip on my hand and turns around. He starts walking back and forth, hands on his head, through his hair, over his face, and finally set on his waist.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" I begin to apologise.

"Stop," His tone is sharp. He shakes his head. "You're- You're pissing me off."

Pissing him off? "What did I even do?" I honestly ask, frustrated.

"Why are you apologising?" He spins around. I stare at him, no words are coming out of my mouth. I simply stare at him. My chest feels heavy all of a sudden and my eyes fall to the ground.

"What happened to you?" His eyes are searching my face. "I remember a year ago, I met a girl on a rooftop. I was just sitting there when she stumbled through the door, wasted. She was smiling and she talked about life, kindness, and shit. Her eyes were wild and her voice loud and powerful. Her presence was so incredibly bright and I hated it. It pissed me off. It pissed me off because she was everything that I wasn't. The way she viewed the world and the way she talked about people and life made me jealous. I was jealous of her light. It reminded me of a lot of things I missed. I hated it." My eyes can't keep eye contact with him as he speaks. My stomach is a knot, my heart is beating fast, and my head is spinning.

He remembers me.

"Now here we are," He waves his hand around. "A year later, on a rooftop and you're once again drunk. But you're different. And I don't know why, but it makes me mad." My eyes are glued to the ground. My whole body is tensed and I feel more exposed than I should.

"You were right" I finally find my words.

"About what?"

"I'm weak," I nod several times. "And stupid. And I don't have the courage to say to anyone that I was in a shitty relationship. That I was weak enough to be manipulated and lied to and treated like shit. None knows about my childhood or my past in general. I'm scared that everyone would look at me differently. I'm scared that everyone will judge me. Like I did to my mom." I confess. "I promised myself that I would be stronger than she was. Braver and smarter," I laugh. "But of course, I met a guy in my first year of college and I thought I could fix him. I wanted to help him, so I stayed. I made excuses every time something would happen. And he played me. " My eyes begin to burn, desperately holding back the tears. Minho's gaze is hard. From the way he's looking at me, I can tell that he wasn't expecting me to share that much.

"I'm sorry," I sniff and try to look anywhere else. "I tend to overshare when I drink." I laugh awkwardly.

"Was he hitting you?" His question makes me freeze. This is a question I wished I would never hear anyone ask me. It sounds almost unreal.

"In the beginning, it wasn't so bad. Not enough for me to realise I guess. But he did at some point, yes. " My voice falters. "He would get mad often. He would yell. He would throw things, a lot of times dangerously close to me. At times I would try to calm him down, but he would push me, not caring to look where I would land. It wasn't like he was beating me up, we were fighting all the time. It was pushing around, slamming into walls, choking, throwing things. It was the type of beatings that in my mind I could justify cause I wasn't exactly innocent. If I had slapped him and then he had pushed me against the wall and choked me until I begged him to stop, I couldn't blame him completely cause I was the one who had started it. In the beginning, it was sort of exciting, the fighting and the toxicity gave me the kind of rush that made me go back, wanting more. But things started to change and the realization of the situation hit me as hard as the first time he actually slapped me. I would fight, I would yell at him but at some point I became mentally drained and I couldn't really fight back." The words come out of my mouth without me even thinking about them. Like a secret, I was dying to finally say out loud. "Even during sex he was-"

"That's enough" Minho looks at me, disgusted almost. He shakes his head and turns his gaze to the night sky.

"He had a hard childhood. His father treated him like shit. His mother passed away when he was young-" His laugh cuts me off as he turns to look at me.

"I'm not defending him," I whisper." I-I..." I take a deep breath. " I left him. It turns out I was a joke to him. He was supposed to fuck me and move on to the next girl. He had made bets with his friends and I was so naive that I fell right into his little game. The day I found out was the day he lost it and he ended up choking me. When it got to the point that I couldn't really breathe, he snapped back to reality but it was too late. I left him that day"

Minho shakes his head once again, smiling at the ground. His hands are crossed.

"The day we met, I caught him having sex with a blonde bitch at a frat party," I giggle. His eyes shoot up at mine. I drop to the ground and bring my knees to my chest. "And you know what's the saddest part?" I look up at him and smile a little. "I don't even miss him. I feel anger and pain whenever I look at him. I miss who I was before him. I'm mad at him for making me feel this weak and I'm more mad at myself for letting him." I honestly say. "I didn't realize it at the time but now looking back, I can see that the more I stayed, the more pieces of myself I was losing. Until it was too late. Now I feel like everything was taken away from me. All that I built myself to be, came crumbling down after him." I let out a breath of relief. I've been keeping all this inside for so long, never having the courage to say anything out loud. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe I'm too emotional right now. Either way, even if he doesn't really care about anything I said, even if doesn't even like me, the feeling of this huge weight finally lifting off of my shoulder is incredible. He takes a seat beside me. His shoulder brushes mine. He smells like vanilla and cigarettes. He doesn't look at me but I keep studying him. His jawline is sharper than a knife and his nose is perfectly straight. His eyelashes are probably longer than mine and the curve of his lips looks almost fake. His side profile is close to perfection.

"The urge to go find him and just beat the shit out of him is so strong right now." He exhales.

"Why? You have already expressed how much you don't like me and how I piss you off, many times." I giggle at his statement.

"Yeah but people like him piss me off more. " He says. I don't replay, instead, I rest my head on my knees and stare at him. His eyes are still looking forward. " And it's not that I don't like you."

"How did you know?"

"You told me about it the first time I saw you and I've seen it happening too many times." He says. I don't speak. I can't think of anything to say and I don't wanna overstep any boundaries by asking questions. "My father was abusive too," He breaks the silence. "He was an alcoholic. A piece of shit. It was only my mother at first but as the years went by he became violent towards me and my sister. I would fight him off as much as I could, but it would never end well. I remember begging my mother to leave him. 'I love him,' she would say. 'He said he won't do it again' "

He smiles at himself. "I was 17 and my sister 18 at the time. My dad came home drunk as usual. Me and Mia were in our room when we heard the sound of glass shattering. I rushed down the stairs and found a guy that I'd never seen before on top of my mother. He had his hands around her neck, choking her. Another guy was standing next to them, with a lamp in his hand and my dad laying on the floor." He clears his throat. "Um, long story short, he owed them a lot of money, and when he couldn't pay they came to find him. I did everything I could to protect my mother and sister but I was just a kid, I couldn't do much but I gave my sister enough time to call the police. My dad along with them ended up in jail." He finally turns to look at me. The emotion in his eyes is noticeable, for once. "It was supposed to end there." He continues. "We were finally free." A pause. "Until my sister started dating this guy."

I can feel my heart tighten, knowing where this is going.

"He was okay. Everything seemed okay, she looked happy so I didn't give it too much thought. They were dating for almost 2 years when they moved together. That's when shit started happening. We were dancing together ever since we were little so both of us decided to study dance naturally. We were practicing together every day so it wasn't easy for her to hide her body. Random bruises on her arms and legs started appearing, her mood started to change, she started skipping classes, and not going out with her friends." He shakes his head almost as if he's trying to shake the images out of his head. "She was this bright person, such a joy to be around. Always smiling." He smiled in such a sad way that my chest tightened. "When she came to practice one day with a bruise on her face, I put two and two together and completely lost it. I beat the shit out of him." He laughs a bitter laugh."She, of course, protected him. She pulled me away, and I yelled at her. I couldn't understand but I saw it in her eyes. She looked at me the way my mother looked at me whenever I would tell her to leave my dad." A pause "She was supposed to be better," His voice tightened, his tone a little louder. "I didn't understand. I still don't," He breathes. "I didn't speak to her for days, until one day she knocked at my door, late at night, crying hysterically." He takes a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled. "Turns out she was pregnant with that bastard's baby." He says and I suck a breath. He stays quiet, the silence makes what he said sink in more and more and I feel my heart break at his story.

"I was going to kill him." He looked at me. His face holds no expression but his eyes are swimming with emotions of all kinds. "For real, I was going to end him but she told me she left. She choose the baby over him and she left." I stare at him. That's all I can do honestly. What can I possibly say to him right now? His pain is all too familiar to mine. And I know that there's not much I can say.

"I understand," My voice comes out a bit louder than a whisper. " I understand. I was supposed to be better too." I offer him a small smile.

He opens his mouth to say something but Jeongin bursts through the door before he has the chance to.

"Oh my god, there you are" He releases a breath, his hand over his heart. "You've been gone for over half an hour." I rise to my feet.

"I'm sorry." I apologise "I wasn't feeling that well. I think I drank too much." I quickly mask my face with a smile.

"You think?" He smirks and I push lightly at him.

"Smoke break?" He looks at Minho and I turn to look back at him as well. Any emotion that was there, has left Minho's face. His expression is entirely natural. Like our talk never happened.

"Yeah." He takes a lighter out of his pocket and lights again the cigarette that I forgot he was holding.

"You should come down, the party is crazy. " Jeongin says, excited and clearly drunk as well.

The corners of Minho's mouth lift a bit ."I'll be there in a few minutes." He reassures him and lets his eyes trail to me for a few seconds before focusing on his cigarette. Jeongin nods, grabs my hand, and leads me down the stairs and back into the room.

"Oh, by the way, Hyunjin has been throwing up nonstop and Felix is panicking."

"What?" I yell.

"Yep." Jeongin's mouth turns into a thin line. He leads me towards the bathroom, where I see Hyunjin with his head on the toilet and Felix leaning against the door frame, his fingers resting at the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

"I left you for less than an hour." I run to Hyunjin's side. I sit down beside him, brushing some hair out of his face. His eyes are closed, head resting on top of his hand.

"Babysitting Hyunjin feels like my full-time job at this point." Felix jokes, frustration written in his voice.

"You can go back down, I'll take it from here."

He hesitates. "You sure?"

"Yes Felix, go have fun. I'll find him a place to sleep and I'll be down in a few." I reassure him.

"Alright, if anything happens come and get me." He says and basically runs down the stairs.

"Hyunjin? Are you awake?" I say lightly. No respond.

"We can put him in my bedroom if you want. " Jeongin scratches the back of his neck.

"Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure" He shrugs and helps me lift Hyunjin. We walk just a few steps down the hall, into a bedroom, and gently drop Hyunjin on the bed. I scan the room, searching for a trashcan. I spot one under the desk, I place it beside the bed just in case he throws up again and turn him to his side before lowering the lights a bit.

"I'll come and check on him in a few. " I say as we make our way out of the room and down the stairs. The party is still going strong. I force myself to forget about Minho and what we talked about, by throwing myself back on the dance floor. The music gets louder and we get drunker. I lost count of the number of shots I've done, All I know is that I'm having a fucking great time. My body is on fire and my mind is numb. Unable to think, or panic. I move freely, I'm not thinking, I let the music guide my body and I let the alcohol take over my head. I spot chan coming out of the kitchen.

"Channie" I run to him, stumbling over my own feet. Thankfully, he catches me in his arms.

"Wow, you're really drunk." He laughs, helping me find my balance. I wrap my hands around his neck, refusing to let go.

"I've missed you so much" I slur.

"Okay, I know where this is going, and I don't want you to cry in front of everyone. How about we get you home?" His hand rests on my waist, as he leads me to the living room. Seungmin is sitting on the couch with Emma straddling his lap. They're making out as if their life depends on it. On the other couch, I spot Jisung and Minho talking.

"Em" Chan yells over the music, trying to get her attention. Her head snaps in our direction, breaking the kiss.

"She's drunk isn't she?" She sighs, a smile playing on her lips. I try to move away from Chan's grip but he won't let me

"I'm not drunk," I point my finger at her, trying to focus my eyes "I'm wasted." I smile.

Everyone laughs. Well, everyone except Minho.

"Okay, maybe we should get going." She climbs off of Seungmin's lap. "Where's Hyunjin?"

"Yeah, about that.." Chan trails off.

"He's blacked out drunk in Jeongin's room" Felix and Jeongin appear beside me, red cups in their hands.

"Jeongin," I squeal, as I break free from Chan's grip and run towards jeongin. "Let's dance." I attempt to grab his hand and drag him to the dance floor, but he sneaks a hand around my waist pulling me back, my back slamming into his front. I giggle.

"Nope," He laughs. "You've done enough dancing" I cross my hands and pout like a child. Felix laughs at my reaction.

" I haven't seen y/n drunk in so long, I've forgotten how funny she gets" he pats my head.

"I've not drunk Felix" I sigh dramatically, still in Jeongin's grip.

"I'm wasted," Chan and Emma say at the same time and everyone bursts into laughter. Everyone except Minho, again. I turn to look at him, and he's already looking at me. He's sitting on the couch, legs spread wide open, a red cup in his hand, and his head resting on the back of the couch. His free hand plays with his bottom lip and his eyes are focused on my figure, not moving. Not gonna lie, he looks hot. Minho is undeniably handsome. Something about his whole presence is attractive....until he opens his mouth. He can be a total ass. But right now he's not talking, he's simply staring at me, and he looks hot doing it.

"Wait, so if Hyunjin can't drive us back, how are we going to get home?" Emma's question breaks me from my thoughts.

"I can't drive, I've been drinking a lot" Felix giggles. His blonde hair is a mess and his cheeks look like they're on fire.

"I can drive." My hand goes up.

"No" jeongin brings my hand back down. I roll my eyes and rest my head against his chest. From the corner of my eyes, I see Minho lean forward. He places his elbows on his knees, the red cup now hanging from his hand between his legs. His eyes burn the side of my head.

"I can drive you," Jisung offers. "I've only been drinking water, all night"

"Yayyyy" I throw my hands in the air. Jisung flashes me a smile.

"Okay," Emma says and turns to Chan. "Please help me drag Hyunjin's drunk ass to the car." She stands from the couch and turns to Felix. "I'll grab all of our stuff, just take Y/n and Jisung to the car." She points a finger at him, her voice slow and loud as if she's explaining something to a child. Felix nods and takes me by the arm.

"I like them bossy." Seungmin wipes his lips with the back of his hand as his eyes follow Emma's back.

Jisung gets up from his spot beside Minho.

"Do you want me to come?" Minho looks up at him.

"No, I'll manage" He pats his back and Minho just nods.

"Okay then," He rubs his hands together. "Let's go kid." He says to me, placing a hand on my lower back, guiding me through the sweaty bodies, while Felix leads the way. Emma and Chan arrive at the car a few minutes after us, holding a very grumpy, half-asleep Hyunjin. Emma unlocks the car and gets into the passenger's seat while me, Hyunjin, and Felix get in the back. Hyunjin immediately lays his head on my lap, closing his eyes once again. Chan appears at my window.

"Text me when you guys get home, okay?" He says to Emma.

"Sure thing dad." She smiles at him.

"Goodnight Channie" I wave at him as Jisung starts the car.

"Bye." He waves back. I rest my head on the back of the seat, letting the cool air hit my face as my fingers run through Hyunjin's long blonde hair. Silence fills the car and my eyes begin to close until finally, sleep takes over me.

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