#// I'm sorry it took me so long to remember to post these😅

[abelladxnna]

here are the full versions of the very nice commish pieces @mypillowpaper drew for the blog's header and icon 💜 I absolutely adore this style 🥰 the chibi art was actually a bonus that they added and I loved it so much that I just had to use it as my icon. thank you again!!

[mangoshorthand]

I just saw your little post, I'm sorry I didn't clarify. Yes, I am a cis woman and I have more of a swimmer's body (I've been a swimmer for years so it's partially natural and partially conditioned) with wider hips and broad shoulders (typical swimmer long legs too). I hope this helps and sorry for such an inconvenience 😅

- birthday anon 🎂🎉

Original request, (paraphrased):

It's my birthday today and I was wondering if I could get a happy birthday from Five. I guess my prompt would be that throughout my life a lot of people forget my birthday (even my family) and often don't show up so if Five just remembered and decided to be soft and sensual and caring, that would make me the happiest person ever.

No problem Birthday Anon. Sorry this took a couple of days. Happy belated birthday! Also I made you a barista sooo...enjoy that I guess.

The Birthday Girl | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 2.8k words, Rated E

Being born at the start of the year was always a harsh reminder of the fact that you weren’t the main character of all existence, something which it took most people much longer to realize.

It was worse when you were a kid, with Christmas and birthday presents amalgamated into one by relatives already stressed out from gift-buying, but it still kind of stung as an adult. Yeah, people had lives and it was a tricky time of year, but you surely didn’t need to be the main character of all existence to have people simply show up for your birthday. 

It was a nice place, you thought, glumly as you popped the olive from your martini into your mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Not too crowded, the music loud enough to dance to without prohibiting conversation. The drinks were cheap and good quality. It would have been the perfect place for a birthday get together. 

You sighed and rested your elbows on the bar. You should have got the picture by now. You were a full grown adult, you knew how it went, and yet you still foolishly invited all your friends and even some family out. 

You’d never imagined that all of them would come, but you thought that at least a few would turn up. Over the past week, as you’d expected, they’d nearly all messaged their excuses and apologies and dropped out. For some, it was too close to going back to work after their christmas break, some were still away, while others were still recovering from New Year and unable to face the idea of partying again so soon.

You didn’t really blame those guys, (at least they had the decency to inform you that they weren’t coming), but you couldn’t help feeling angry at the no-shows who hadn’t even bothered to inform you, leading to you sitting alone in this bar, all dressed up for nothing.

“Hey.”

You turned your head, surprised to hear any voice addressing you. 

“Five,” you said, smiling nervously in greeting.

This was not what you’d planned. He was your favorite customer and he said you made the best coffee in the city, but could you call him your friend? Did two years of late-night coffee twice a week count as a friendship?

He usually came in on one of your late shifts, looking immaculately dressed but gray with exhaustion. At first, he hadn’t talked, just drinking his coffee in silence and leaving with a murmur of thanks and a generous tip, but over time he’d been more receptive to your gentle offers of conversation, and gradually he’d shown up primarily to talk, sitting at the counter as you worked, sipping endless cups of coffee and keeping you company. 

What he hadn’t told you himself, you’d put together from snippets of conversation. You knew about the Umbrella Academy and the apocalypse, but it didn’t really factor into your picture of him. To you, he was just Five: the amusing mix of pessimism, wit, and an old man’s nostalgia for times past incongruous with the body in its twenties.  

Over the time you’d known him, he’d grown into your life easily. He had you looking forward to your late shifts and spending the time between them making mental notes of things to tell him next time you saw him.

Your conversations with him were easy and intimate (you’d told him a few things you wouldn’t tell your diary on your deathbed), but the relationship was still this weird, context-bound thing. He was the customer, you were the server.  

He’d surprised you into inviting him to this little get-together a couple of days before new year. It was your first late shift after Christmas, and when he’d arrived and taken up his usual perch at the counter, one of his first remarks was:

“It’s your birthday coming up in a day or two, right?”

“Uh,” you faltered, “Um - yeah.”

He looked at you doubtfully. 

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“No, it is. I’m just surprised, is all. People always forget.”

Five shrugged.

“You told me last year. You swapped shifts to go out for dinner.”

“And you remembered that?”

“Yeah.”

It touched you, the way he spoke so casually, as if he couldn’t possibly do anything but remember this about you. So you invited him to come tonight, hoping he’d say yes but not read too much into it.

For months, maybe longer, you’d been wondering, and his attitude then was the thing that pushed you to find out once and for all.

You had to know for sure whether this was something: whether you and he would be the same in a different environment, or whether this thing would just crumble to nothing outside of the diner’s soft-lighting.

It would be a good test, you thought, and having other people there would act as a buffer in case of any awkwardness. 

In this, you had been thwarted, because now he stood beside you, looking more smart-casual than you’d ever seen him, frowning in a gray blazer over a dark tee.

“Well…happy birthday,” he said, dumping a giftbag on the bar with a clunk that signaled a bottle inside, “it’s rum. You said you liked mojitos.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding, as he sat on the barstool beside you. 

He took a quick glance around, intelligent green eyes taking stock of the bar. 

“Is it just us?” he asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow in a way that made you chuckle.

“Yup,” you smiled, ruefully, “most people canceled, but there were three who just haven’t remembered to show up. I told them to meet me an hour ago, but no word.”

He frowned again, so you offered a little explanation:

“People forget when your birthday’s just after the holidays.” and then, with a smile at him, added, “Except you, of course.”

“Hm,” he said, with an air of contemplation, perhaps reflecting on why you’d told him to meet you later than everyone else. Seeming to dismiss it, however, he turned back to you:

“So you’re stuck with me?”

You looked back over at him, and a smirk developed on his face, one corner of his mouth turning up to complement his cocked eyebrow. 

And in that moment, you made a decision, one that was two years in the making. Why play these games? Why experiment with him? Worst case scenario, he could just find another diner. 

“It’s stupid to be here with only two of us. Do you want to come back to mine? Maybe we crack open that rum and help me drown my birthday sorrows? I only live on the next street.”

***

The rum was never opened, because on the street outside your apartment, he stopped you with a hand on your arm.

He’d been silent ever since he agreed to come with you, and when you turned to face him outside your door, he fixed you with such a serious look that you took in a shallow breath.

“Sorry if I make this awkward, but I gotta know. Is this just a drink?”

You looked back at him, studying the earnest slope of his brow and his tense mouth; how two freckles disappeared into a small cleft in his cheek. It was a face that surrendered smiles reluctantly, but you could nearly always tease several out before the end of any shift. 

You shook your head wordlessly.

His adam's apple bobbed in his throat. His eyes, so often scowling, scathing or sardonic, fixed you now with a look of pure, open adoration. His thick lashes did nothing to shade you from the intensity of that look, from the opalescent green of pupils that pulled at you with such fascination. 

When he spoke, his voice was very low.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to keep your eyes on his face, choosing to study the neckline of his tee, beneath which a hint of sturdy collarbone was visible.

He reached out and gently ghosted his fingers down your cheek. 

“How could anyone forget your birthday?” he murmured. 

Then, he leaned forward and kissed you.

The chill January breeze momentarily played about your neck. A shiver ran through you, but not from cold: from his gentle lips against yours; from the feel of his soft hair between your fingers; from his body close to yours. 

Sweet, chaste and cherishing, it might have seemed platonic, that kiss, but for the way his tongue slipped briefly into the fray, though pulling back quickly: showing you that he had more should you wish to take it.

And you did. You wanted it to the point that you chased his lips when he tried to pull away. He smiled at this and let you catch him, letting your lips part his and your tongue enter his mouth. 

Finally, he succeeded in breaking the embrace, though leaving his hands softly on your hips.

“Take me upstairs?” he asked, huskily.

***

His mouth beside your ear, he held you on his lap like a beautiful fragile thing. He ran his fingers reverently up and down your thighs, like a servant privileged to touch precious silverware with kid gloves. 

He kissed you again, soft and syrupy, as if he was eating fruit perfectly sweetened on the vine, trailing his lips down your shoulder and humming with satisfaction.

 “God,” he whispered, “I could kiss you all day.”

The tender hunger in his tone sent a tingle straight to your core. 

It was a shame to have your back to him. When he’d thrown off his shirt as if it was nothing, your eyes drank him in: the softly defined muscles that were outlined by his movements and the trail of sparse, dark hair disappearing below his waistband. All this time, under those sharply cut suits, there was this.

But you couldn’t focus on the regret too much, not with his strong forearms wrapped around your naked body, his smell of antiperspirant and aftershave, and not with the heat of his hard arousal against your ass and lower back. 

His fingers clearly stated their intent against your inner thigh, pausing an inch away from where you needed him most. 

“May I?” he asked, breath tickling your ear. 

You could hear a little hint of mischief in his voice; the ironic move of his eyebrows.

“Yes please,” you breathed.

“Anything for the birthday girl,” he whispered, nuzzling briefly at your neck.

And he stroked your outer lips with gentle fingers, his index trailing back up your slit, the tip skimming slickness that had already gathered there.

He made an appreciative sound at his discovery, and you moaned at the throb of pleasure from just this teasing movement, bucking against him and momentarily pressing his cock against you more firmly.

“You’re so pretty,” he rasped into your ear, fingers parting your outer lips to reach your excited nub and stroking it in smooth, luxuriant circles, “look at you. So perfect.”

You whimpered and tossed your head helplessly against his shoulder. Heat was already building in your sex, toes curling against your sheets.

The foundations for your orgasm were laid from his very first touch of your aching pussy, your body crying out for him from the moment he kissed you. Now, you were helpless to his fingers: as confident and efficient in rubbing your needy clit as in all his other movements. 

“You deserve to be treated special.” he whispered, “This good?”

“Five.” 

“Yes?”

“Five.”

You could hardly say more, brain scrambling like beaten eggs until no vocabulary remained but the name of the man whose fingers were making come slowly drool down your thighs.

“Want me to stop?” he whispered, tenderly.

You shook your head fiercely. 

“Fi-ive!” you whined again, becoming completely inarticulate now as his ankles hooked around yours, holding your legs open gently. He could sense you beginning to ride your edge, could surely sense the heat burning and coiling and tightening in your stomach until - 

You cried out when you came, feeling more come gush from you, soaking his fingers and your thighs alike. He spoke softly to you as the waves of pleasure broke on you one by one, each bringing a fierce buck of your hips backwards against his hard, hot cock, sandwiched between you.

“That’s it.” he encouraged, “There you go. Feel good, sweetie?” 

You could do nothing but whimper and let yourself be carried by the rapture, surges exploding down each limb again and again.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Your orgasm subsided, leaving you panting against him. 

Through your recovery, he whispered more tender affirmations and praise into your ear, kissing and nosing at the side of your neck as he tried to distract himself from the tingles going up and down his length and the precome still leaking from his tip. It was difficult: your movements against him were teasing his excited cock. 

After you caught your breath, you became aware of the needy way he was kissing you; of the barely-there grinding of his pelvis; of his dick rubbing against you.

“Can I -?” came the desperate, half-articulated whisper.

“Yes please,” you replied.

He laid you down as if you were fragile, like an injured dove held in cupped hands. His gentle movements offered a stark contrast to the state of his gorgeous, curved cock. The tip was an angry pink, his balls high and tight with arousal.

Intrigued, you began to caress that heated, swollen part of him. He hissed as you weighed and massaged his balls in one hand, the other closing around his shaft, already slick with precome.

“Don’t judge my stamina based on this, okay?” he said, voice cracking as his neck arched along with your strokes, “How about you stop that and we can try for quality over quantity?” 

It was spoken with self-consciousness that seemed unnecessary to you, given that he’d just rubbed your clit to a thigh-trembling orgasm quicker and more effectively than anyone you’d ever been with. You let his cock go and kissed him on the mouth as he lowered himself towards you. 

When he entered you, his mouth was still on yours, and you felt his sigh or relief against your lips. 

He filled you perfectly, your plush walls immediately gripping him, surrendering him reluctantly as he withdrew. You could see the tight pinch between his eyebrows. His eyes were already screwed shut. 

“Oh.”

The whisper was small and strung out, and you kissed his cheek and lips to encourage him as he let out a few, trembling breaths. 

“That feel good?”

“Yeah,” you gasped, “it feels good, Five. 

His strokes were slow, but skillful, his hips rutting with gentle fluidity. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he whispered, stroking your cheek, “I want to show you how special you are.”

From the movement of his body alone, you would have imagined him in complete control, not even close to his edge, but his increasingly fevered whispers and messy kisses to your lips and neck told a different story.

“Your pussy is so good. It’s so fucking wet.”

You kissed him back, nodding and moaning in affirmative as that perfect curve rubbed you just right inside, the low tempo building an ache as sweet and gentle as his thrusts. You gasped, pulsing around him, and his hips stuttered for the first time.

“F-fuck.” he breathed, “So hot. So perfect.”

He tensed.

“I’m close.”

You smiled against his ear. You were on birth control and you knew enough about Five to know that he didn’t raw-dog every barista who made him a good cup of coffee. It wasn’t logical or sensible but it was the only thing that seemed right after two years of illogical, foolish denial. 

“Come inside me.”

“You sure?”

You barely had time to confirm it to him before he let out an inarticulate cry. His dick pumped hard inside you, coating your walls with his load with his head buried in your neck, still keeping you gasping throughout with controlled, gentle, sensuous pumps of his pelvis.  

***

“You want coffee?”

You lay, bare-breasted on his chest as Five combed his fingers through your hair, feeling warm, content, and glowing from his tenderness. 

“Let me get it for a change.” he said.

“Wow, it really is my birthday,” you teased. 

You heard a short exhale of laughter as he extracted himself gently from the bedsheets. 

“Sure is.”

And, with as little care for his nakedness as if this was his own apartment, he headed across the bedroom, turning back at the door with a wry smile.

“And it’s not over yet.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[dudadragneel]

Hello, guys! It's me!

Sorry for going MIA again, there's just a lot going on 😅

But hey, another fic for you!

This one was a request from @fairyniceyeah !

I'm sorry this took AGES to be ready and posted....(Insert here Sponge Bob square pants "2000 years later")

also I'm sorry if this request took a certain turn...

STP - Standard Temperature and Pressure

BEHIND THE BEAT

Before becoming an idol, Minho was a professional dancer and a backup dancer for BTS, so dancing was a serious topic for him.

He'd always participate in the creation process of their choreographies and it always had to be perfect. Of course they had fun, but when it was time to get serious, they got really serious.

Whenever they had to spend so much time inside that practice room, dancing for hours on end, they remembered their trainee days.

And those days weren't one bit easy.

They had a choreographer but the one who'd mostly work on the choreographies, work with the boys and guide them through it, was Minho.

And when he entered dance practice mode, he could be as scary as pre-debut Chan. So much so that even Chan would get a little scared sometimes.

It was honestly impressive how attentive to details and mistakes Minho was.

They always wondered "how can a single pair of eyes keep track of movements from seven different people?"

Well, that's just how good of a dancer he was.

It was a tiring job and stressful as well, after all he had to be able to deal with seven different dancing styles and personalities.

Felix and Hyunjin were part of Danceracha so he didn't really worry about those two and they did their best to help Minho to the best of their habilities.

But at the end of the day, if anything went wrong or if things weren't going as smooth as everyone wished, he'd take all the blame to himself.

He had pride on what he did.

If the members weren't getting the moves right, wasn't him a bad teacher?

That's exactly how his mind worked, despite everyone trying to tell him he was doing a perfect job.

This time they were preparing for a really big comeback that would be followed by a tour, which meant: no time to rest, no openings for mistakes.

The boys gathered at JYPE's famous cafeteria to have lunch and discuss some of the things they had to work on.

Chan was explaining how they'd record the tracks, how much time he'd need to work with the members on their parts etc.

On the other side, Minho was also doing the same, planning out how many hours they'd have to practice in a day and such.

They knew it all too well how hectic it got when a comeback was around the corner, and yet, they couldn't keep themselves from already feeling utterly tired. Even if they hadn't done much yet.

Sometimes they'd wonder how in heavens they decided on that career and how it would be to just live a normal life.

But those thoughts would always be replaced with some sort of relief, after all they'd also wonder how it would've been if they never met each other. And that thought alone would make any of them tear up. That was just how much they meant to each other.

After they were done with their lunch, they rested for a little while and went straight to dance practice.

Minho's mind was swimming with ideas for the choreographies and he needed to practice them, he needed to see how the movements inside his mind would be shown in real life.

So the dance practices would usually went like this:

Minho would make the boys stretch long enough so they didn't have any cramps or injured themselves.

And then he'd stand in front of the mirror practicing the moves alone for a moment and sharpening them before gathering the others to teach them.

While he did that, the practice room was utter chaos, the boys were running around or lying down or laughing, just simply being themselves.

And while Minho sometimes wanted to punch them, he'd be lying if he said he didn't like that chaos.

- Ok guys! Come on!

After a while, Minho entered his dance practice mode and gathered everyone to start teaching the dance moves.

Most of the time, the group wouldn't make many mistakes, specially Danceracha and more specifically Minho.

Well, sometimes Felix would get some moves wrong or just not do them as sharp as the others but it was due to his back problem. Everyone always reassured him it wasn't his fault but still he was harsh on himself.

And if Felix punished himself like that, Minho did that to himself a 100 times worse. After all, he was a dancer who became an idol, he was a professional dancer before all this, so in his mind, he couldn't make any mistakes.

Yet, while working on the dances for the impending comeback and tour, the universe just seemed to have some sort of conspiracy against him.

Every so often, he'd miss a step, dance off beat, or even forget a little part of the choreography which was really unusual for him.

The boys were already getting worried, they weren't used to seeing him that much out of control of his own movements.

And he was starting to get stressed, really stressed.

Whereas Chan's anger would make him raise his voice a bit and use a harsher tone, Minho's was a more silent one.

Sometimes he wouldn't even mutter a single word.

There would be just this aura surrounding him and whenever one of the boys would dare approach him, he'd just look them dead in the eye.

Like a tiger looking at its prey.

And that was warning enough for the others to back off. In these type of situations, Chan was the only one who could break through Minho's walls and attempt to understand his feelings and calm him down.

The dance practice continued for another hour and so did Minho's mistakes.

"Fuck!"

"Why is nothing going right today?"

He thought to himself.

Not once, not even once he managed to dance the entire routine without making a few, as he'd say, dumb mistakes.

Their choreographer didn't know what was going on. Hell, not even himself was understanding what was happening to him.

Minho was getting progressively stressed and angry. He was acting the same way he acted when he was mad at his stage outfits.

Chan and the boys knew exactly where this was going.

The choreographer called for a quick break so that everyone could catch their breath and Chan took this opportunity to try and talk to Minho, and hopefully understand what was going on.

Minho sat down on the couch, throwing his beanie and cursing.

Oh, he was beyond angry. He was fuming.

Chan sat beside him in silence. Analyzing the situation, the leader understood that trying to get him to say something might worsen the situation.

If Minho needed to say something, he would, if not, Chan wouldn't push him into doing so.

- Damn it! Sorry, hyung.

He immediately apologized for cursing in front of his leader.

And Chan saw that as an opportunity to speak to him, careful not to get him more stressed.

- Is everything okay?

Chan asked with such a gentle tone that Minho almost broke down in sobs.

- Yeah, I'm fine.

He answered, a bit colder than he wanted, but he wasnt in control of his body, let alone his mind.

- Okay.

For a moment Minho thought he hurt Chan's feelings since the leader gave a short answer. He'd even risk saying it was just as cold as his.

But maybe it was just his mind, getting annoyed by the littlest thing.

The fact is, deep down inside, he wished Chan would've insist on asking because part of him wanted to tell someone how he was feeling, if he managed to understand what exactly was it.

The other part, the proud one, didn't want to admit that he wasn't okay. It seemed like this part wanted to show the others and himself, that he could handle things on his own, just like Chan.

And he did manage to deal with things on his own a lot of times but he had already asked for help on a few occasions.

Why didn't he want to seek help now?

He didn't know.

His thoughts were starting to eat him from the inside.

And then, the break was over.

In STP, Minho would be happy to resume dancing. But this time, he was stuck between wanting to dance and make up for his mistakes or not dance at all afraid of keep on making mistakes.

Honestly? It had been some time since the last time his mind took over like this.

And he wasn't liking it, not one bit.

To add to his stress and frustration, his whole body was starting to ache and a weird feeling had settled in his stomach a while ago. But he was so frustrated that he didn't even notice.

Great. Now he had to dance afraid of making more mistakes and conscious of the annoying feeling in his stomach.

And just like the beginning of practice, the mistakes just kept coming.

He was so out of tune with his own dancing that he wasn't even able to analyze the other members.

How could he, when he himself wasn't getting the steps right?

He'd just be a hypocrite.

The members however, were getting really worried seeing Minho like that.

Each time they made a mistake, they looked at Minho, waiting for a correction or something but nothing.

And now Minho was feeling even worse than before.

He felt like his body was about to crumble, his vision was kinda blurry and his mind, oh his mind. It was corrupting him from the inside.

At the same time he couldn't exactly see the members properly, it seemed like he could sense everything inside the room.

And he felt like everyone's gaze were locked on him, piercing through his body, as if criticizing him from head to toe.

Members, choreographers, staff, everyone.

And in fact, they were, but not the way he imagined.

They were looking at him concerned, trying to understand what was happening to him.

Practice went on and so did the mistakes. At some point the choreographer questioned him what was happening but he couldn't really answer so he just muttered an excuse.

Although they had a good relationship with their staff, Chan would get angry at them if he thought they were pushing the members into talking or admitting something or just making them uncomfortable.

And Chan felt something building inside him.

The choreographer didn't use a harsh tone nor was he reprimanding Minho, but Chan since sensing something was wrong with his dongsaeng, he became overprotective.

Changbin noticed Chan starting to get restless and discreetly talked to him, whispering so no one would hear him.

- Hyung.

The younger rapper said, touching Chan's shoulder and bringing him back to reality.

- I know what you're thinking. We noticed Minho-hyung is acting strange. But the choreographer is talking to him normally. Please don't get worked up.

- I know, I know.

Chan sighed and then took deep breaths to calm himself down before he talked back to the choreographer, who was not at fault, and created a bad situation.

And quiet honestly, he also wasn't at fault. He was just caring and protecting Minho, after all he was his dongsaeng and he was supposed to be a leader.

When the choreographer seemed satisfied with Minho's explanation, if there really was one, he resumed practice one more time.

By now it was agonizing to keep dancing. Not only was he not getting the steps right at all, he was also slowing down the others, making practice last way longer.

Minho was feeling so utterly frustrated at himself that the last thin line of focus he had, was completely cut off.

His movements became sluggish, he felt his body tingling and his vision was getting more blurry than before.

He just wanted that practice to end. No, the whole day. And start anew the next day.

It was hurting the boys, specially Chan, to see Minho like that. Because he couldn't get through to him earlier and he knew his dongsaeng didn't like to admit to feeling unwell. But this was getting out of hand.

It felt like Minho had been replaced by someone else.

He kept on dancing, like he was on autopilot, still trying to get the steps right.

Then the choreographer called another break.

And that was when everything crumbled.

The others sat down on the ground, some lay down, feeling tired from the last 3 hours of dancing.

Chan, though, kept his gaze focused on Minho.

The younger man stumbled to the side of the room, bracing himself against the wall.

He would dare say he felt like he was about to die.

When the adrenaline started to subside, he became hyper aware of everything he was feeling, both physically and mentally.

He was overcome with guilt of not getting things right and making the others put on an extra amount of unnecessary effort.

His mind was not giving him one moment of peace and neither was his body.

He couldn't breathe properly, he tried to but it felt like there was no oxygen going inside his lungs, as if his chest was being squeezed. His back was heaving up and down, getting faster each passing second.

His whole body felt like jelly and about to shut down, he felt like all his muscles were close to relaxing all at once.

The rapid breathing made him feel incredibly dizzy, his vision was blurring even more than before and he felt unsteady on his feet, thank god for that wall.

And to top it off, his stomach was rebelling against him. Every single emotion he was feeling, was being reflected in his stomach.

It churned and his lunch was sloshing around like a washing machine, he could already taste the bile in his mouth.

He kept his back turned to the others, desperately trying to get a hold of his own body. But it wasn't working.

His breathing was not going back to normal and it made him feel like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The nausea was overwhelming him and he tried to fight it back, swallowing convulsively and clenching his fists for dear life. He didn't dare move a muscle and he was actually surprised how he hadn't collapsed yet.

Seeing how his state deteriorated quickly when they took this las break, the members were extremely concerned about him. But at the same time they didn't know if trying to get close to him would be a wise idea.

Almost all of them looked at Chan, desperate for a signal from the leader but before he could raise a hand and nod them a "no", one of them was already missing: Hyunjin.

He and Minho bickered all the time but they loved each other and Hyunjin was just as worried as the others.

He got closer to Minho and placed a hand on his sweaty back making him flinch a little and quickly looking up at him and then dropping his head again, already running out of strength to hold his body.

The younger dancer felt his hyung's back heave up and down quickly and how his hands were clenched in such tight fists, he was worried Lee Know was gonna hurt himself.

Minho tried to focus on Hyunjin's hand on his back for dear life, everything was too overwhelming and he felt like he could faint at any minute. Hyunjin's presence was the only thing that was barely keeping him grounded.

- Hyung?

Hyunjin called out, tilting his head a bit so he could see Minho's face, getting no response.

But the older dancer was in such a state that he wasn't even listening Hyunjin's voice, actually, he wasn't even sure he processed it was Hyunjin who was by his side.

He was basically hyperventilating now and his lunch was threatening to make an appearance really soon.

Minho kept his head low, eyes focused on the ground, fists and jaw clenched, swallowing down the rising nausea. And in the midst of it, trying to get his breathing under control.

But it was no use, it was a battle he wasn't gonna win even if he tried.

Hyunjin moved his hand to his hyung's shoulder, squeezing it and trying to bring him back to earth. And he then positioned himself in front of Minho, lowering himself a bit so he could try to meet his gaze.

But that was the wrong move.

The moment Hyunjin appeared in front of Minho was also the moment he lost his battle against his stomach.

He felt liquid rushing up his chest and hitting the back of his throat faster than he could react.

And then he bent down a little further retching a thick stream of vomit that hit the ground with a sickening sound and unfortunately, got on Hyunjin's shoes.

The younger one was shocked at first but quickly recollected himself while the others rushed to them.

Hyunjin stepped back a bit, trying to stay away from the upcoming mess but kept a firm hand on his hyung's back.

Minho vomited another wave that left him breathless and dizzy.

He was about to lose all strength in his body when Chan and Changbin got by his side and grabbed him.

- Don't worry, Minho-ah, we've got you.

Chan reassured as both him and Changbin gently lowered him down.

- Can someone grab a towel? And some water?

Chan asked and then immediately turned his attention to Minho who was still breathing erratically and gagging unproductively.

- It's okay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay.

The leader cooed, rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down while also brushing the hair out of his face, only to reveal trails of tears on his cheeks.

Chan's heart sunk to the ground when he saw that, because it only meant that Minho was dealing with something that was bothering him so much to the point of crying.

And Minho crying was a rare sight.

Chan also knew that he never liked to show his weakness to the others, not even tears, so he didn't say anything.

One of the boys came back with a towel and put it in front of Minho to cover the mess on the floor and prevent it from getting bigger.

He kept on gagging unproductively and it was clear that it was hurting him.

-Hey, it's okay.

Chan then noticed that Minho was holding it in, he knew that throwing up in front of everyone, members and choreographer and, well, on Hyunjin's shoes had left him mortified.

Even if the mess had already been done, he'd rather hold everything in than continue to display how out of control he was.

And Chan knew that.

- Kids, Hyung-nim.

Chan said with a authoritative tone, though very gentle at that.

And the others didn't need any other word to understand what he meant and quickly left the room. Too many people and too much attention would only worsen Minho's condition.

- There we go, Minho-ah. It's just you and me here.

Minho was still fighting against the nausea, even though it was just the two of them inside the room.

Wasn't he being humiliated enough?

He grabbed the fabric of his pants, gripping it with all his force, trying to contain the nausea by swallowing convulsively and taking deep breaths.

- It's okay, Minho-ah. No one is watching you, I'm the only one here, okay? Throw up if you need to, don't hold it in, it'll only make you feel worse.

Chan reassured, running his hand up and down Minho's back, his touch so gentle it was making him start crying again, though silently.

He slowly allowed himself to start relaxing and by doing that, his stomach immediately responded by contracting.

Minho lurched forward, more vomit escaping his lips and soiling the towel the boys had placed on the ground.

- That's it. You're doing good, just let it all out.

Chan said with a gentle voice while rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down and then in circles, feeling how it heaved up and down with each retch.

Another wave came out, even stronger, coming out of his nose as well and hurting his throat in the process.

And feeling the texture of the food in his mouth as well as the tiny pieces in his nose didn't help, it only triggered another wave.

- Hyung....

Minho said with a weak and shaky voice after the bout was over.

- I know, I know. You'll be okay.

The smell of sick seemed to have impregnated in his nose after coming out of it.

He tried blowing it to see if he could get rid of what seemed to be rice and that caused a round of unproductive retches.

Eventually another wave of putrid vomit made its way out and this one left his body shaking from the effort.

And to add to his misery, he managed to choke on a piece of undigested food and started coughing.

- Don't worry, hyung will help you, okay?

Minho didn't even have strength to answer his leader, he just wanted that to be over with.

Chan changed his approach and started to rub Minho's chest, trying to provide comfort and help dislodge what got stuck in his throat.

The dancer kept coughing and gagging, but nothing was coming up and he knew there was more that needed to get out.

He clutched his stomach because it was hurting so much and it wasn't giving him a break.

- Minho-ah, do you think you still have to puke?

Minho nodded weakly.

- Okay, I'll try something but it might be uncomfortable, okay?

Chan moved his hand from Minho's chest to his abdomen, more precisely to the middle and started to massage it, applying a bit of pressure every time.

It seemed to be working because Minho was gagging again and soon it brought up another bout of sick that mixed with the rest in the already soiled towel.

And Chan returned his attention to rubbing his dongsaeng's back, trying to make the ordeal less excruciating.

Minho still puked a few times and it felt like his stomach was determined to turn itself out. Even in his dazed state he was wondering how there was still things in him for him to vomit.

And Chan was getting worried that Minho's stomach was trying to get rid of all the food he ate in the past few weeks.

After about 45 minutes since everything started, Minho was just dry heaving and still gagging a bit. It really looked like his stomach wanted to get rid of itself.

- That's it. You did great.

Chan murmured to him still rubbing his back in soothing circles and his chest as well.

Minho didn't know why but that felt heavenly and comforting, and if he was being really honest to himself, he didn't want Chan to stop it.

- Let's get you away from this mess, okay?

The leader carefully helped Minho to another area in the practice room and sat beside him.

- Hey, can I go and dispose of that towel? Or can I ask someone to come get it?

Minho nodded a weak no.

He didn't want to be alone and he definitely didn't want to be seen.

- That's okay. We'll deal with that later. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Do you wanna try some water?

- mhmm

That was the first sound of his voice Chan heard after that long ordeal.

- Here, rinse out your mouth.

Chan said helping Minho take a sip to just wash his mouth and get rid of the awful taste in his mouth.

- Hey, do you think you can drink a little bit? Just small sips.

Minho hesitated at first but then nodded but he was too out of it and feeling too weak to hold the bottle.

So Chan gently brought it to his lips, tilting it slightly helping him take small sips. And the cold water helped soothe his throat a little bit, even though his stomach wasn't exactly happy about it.

Chan then grabbed a bucket and set it beside Minho so he could rinse his mouth and well, be there just in case.

None of them wanted that room to get any dirtier and they were feeling pretty bad for the staff who'd clean it after.

Chan gently brushed Minho's hair behind his ear to reveal the trails of tears one more time. He also noticed that his face was flushed, most likely due to the embarrassment and his eyes and nose were red from the crying.

He tenderly wiped away a tear that was running down Minho's cheek with his thumb.

- Hey, Minho-ah....do you want to tell me what happened?

He asked with the most gentle tone known to mankind and that broke Minho once more. He started sobbing but he still didn't want to lift his head.

- It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it now. We'll stay here as long as you want, I won't go anywhere.

Chan said reassuring Minho and putting a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze, as if proving his words.

He continued to rub Minho's back in soothing circles as the younger boy continued to cry and for some reason the tears just wouldn't stop falling.

Eventually he started to calm down and the sobs stopped, the only sound was now his sniffing.

Apart from that, the room was completely quiet and like Chan said, he was not gonna pressure Minho into talking, so he stayed silent.

- 'm sorry...

The silence was broken by Minho's weak voice, barely a whisper.

He had his head between his knees, looking at the ground with tears still dropping and creating a small puddle.

- Why are you apologizing, hm?

Chan asked softly, stroking his dongsaeng's hair and patiently waiting for his response.

- Because I messed up....and made you guys practice more than needed....

- There's nothing to apologize for, Minho-ah...

- I couldn't get anything right...no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't concentrate and-

He stopped to catch his breath as he felt his chest tightening, a sign that he was on the verge of a panic attack.

- Hey, hey, take it easy. Breathe. You don't need to rush, okay?

Chan reassured as he grabbed Minho's hand and he instinctively squeezed his in return, trying to ground himself.

- Take deep breaths, slowly.

Minho followed Chan's instructions and started to calm down and continued talking.

- Nothing was working and I couldn't even pay attention to you guys and we're so close to the comeback and the tour, this is not supposed to happen....

- Minho-ah, you don't need to put so much pressure on yourself. And this is coming from a person that does exactly the opposite so I don't think I have much say on the matter hahaha.

Chan joked, earning a weak laugh from the dancer.

- But seriously, don't be so hard on yourself. We all have our "off" days, it's completely normal.

- I know, hyung....but-

He was cut off by a sob and then his mind took control again. It flooded with thoughts of not being able to get the steps right even if he tried his best, missing steps during the actual performance, not being able to pour out his 110% on stage.

It was mortifying.

And before he could even notice, he was already having a panic attack. He was hyperventilating, he couldn't stop crying and those thoughts refused to go away.

- They won't stop coming! Hyung, make it stop...

Minho pleaded between sobs and gasps of air.

- Hey, hey, Minho-ah. I need you to breathe.

Chan said placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back to reality.

- I- I can't--

- Yes, you can. Come on.

Chan was respecting Minho's space to the best of his habilities, but the situation was now escalating and he had to intervene.

He gently lifted Minho's head and turned it towards him, so his dongsaeng was now facing him.

And it took every ounce of strength in his body to keep his composure seeing him like that.

- Look at me. You're gonna breathe with me, okay?

Minho nodded weakly, although unsure if he'd actually be able to.

Chan guided the dancer's hand towards his chest so he could feel his breathing pattern, while holding his other hand.

- You can feel my breathing. It's slow and steady, right? I want you to try and do the same. I know you can do it.

Lee Know tried to but it was just so hard, it felt he was underwater, trying desperately to take in any air but failing. And his mind just kept on repeating the same thoughts over and over again, like a broken record.

He squeezed Chan's hand until his knuckles turned white, his nails almost digging into his hyung's hand, trying to push those thoughts away.

- Keep trying. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need. But I need you to keep trying, keep on focusing on my breathing.

It took some time, but eventually Minho started to regain control over his breathing. He focused on Chan's breathing as the leader instructed and slowly evened his.

His grip on Chan's hand started to loosen up.

- There we go. Feeling a bit more calm now?

Chan asked wiping away the tears from Minho's eyes and cheeks but never letting go of his hand on his chest.

- Yes...

Minho answered weakly, clearly exhausted and embarrassed about everything that happened.

- Do you think you can talk to me about those thoughts?

- I think so....

Although getting a positive answer it was followed by a silent pause, yet Chan didn't insist.

- I just kept thinking that I needed to do well, that I needed to get everything right and help everyone with their dance. And that we have an upcoming comeback and tour and the choreographies need to be completed by then....and nothing seemed to be working....it was like my body was being controlled by those thoughts and I couldn't shut them up. I didn't want to be a burden and I felt like everyone was judging me for making so many mistakes.

It shattered Chan's heart to hear those words coming from Minho.

- No one was judging you, Minho-ah. No one will ever judge you. We knew something was wrong, that's why we were looking at you, we were worried.

Chan reassured him, running a thumb on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

- I'm sorry...

Minho said with a trembling voice looking down but Chan wasn't having it. He gently lifted his face again.

- Don't apologize. Don't you ever apologize for feeling weak, for feeling stressed, for being human. You hear me?

The younger boy just nodded, not really having any words to say.

He felt exhausted.

- Come here.

Chan said gently pulling Minho closer to him and embracing him in a back hug.

Minho allowed himself to be completely embraced by Chan, resting his head on his hyung's arm and the older kept his breathing steady so Minho could match it.

And they stayed like that, for minutes, in complete silence, the room quiet apart from their breathing.

He was so exhausted from everything that happened that in a few minutes he fell asleep on Chan's embrace, the same safe and warm back hug he secretly loved.

[lovelyatomicpeace]

Betond the masks, chapter three

Knights and princesses

Here is chapter three! It took me a long time to write it I know 😅but I was looking for a suitable way to tell the story of Steve and y/n best way (that's why I published it an hour after the scheduled one I rewrote parts). Who knows what happened between them, why they fought and most importantly who is the culprit...if you want to know stay tuned for part 4… enjoy it!

Fonts: 20.556

Type: friends to enemies to friends to lovers

You continued to pedal relentlessly in the rain the previous evening: after finding that little girl, the 3 were incalmable. But then again, how could you blame them?

Where she came from you didn't know...for Lucas had escaped from the Penhrust asylum, me it was impossible. On her arm she had a tattoo, in serial number we could call it

011

Eleven so the boys had promptly renamed it.

Who was she really? You couldn't tell, she didn't utter a word....

It was all so strange, to the point that you came to think it was all a figment of your imagination: you had slept very little lately and especially badly, but you knew of course that it wasn't so ... it was all real

That little girl was real

But why find her in the woods? And just when Will disappeared?

The clatter of voices and the sight of the school shattered your thoughts. Mechanically you put down your bicycle and entered the school and headed inside to your locker, strangely not late as usual. You were walking briskly and looking focused, when you suddenly stopped: Jonathan was posting a flyer for his brother at the common bulletin board

"HAVE YOU SEEN ME?" the headline read; beneath the picture of Will smiling just as you had left him the night before the disappearance, you clutched your chest. God how you missed that little face... Instinctively you turned back to approach his brother; you had never exchanged more than a few chats those times you found each other at the Wheeler house: he always gave you the impression that he was a closed, shy, but good-hearted guy, and you didn't mind his company...

"Hey..." you approached him without knowing what to say to him precisely and speaking almost in a whisper "I wanted to, um... I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about Will really... I don't..." you began, but froze at the expression on his face, a mixture of sorrow and suspicion that sent a shiver running down your spine: but surely he thought you were somehow responsible for his brother's disappearance.

Great, We're going well...

He was about to leave, and you wouldn't have tried to hold him back, but from not too far away the voices of Steve's group could be heard,

from better and better...

You turned around at the same time to see Tommy backing up Carol who was loudly and annoyingly chewing that bubble gum of his, you wondered if in the course of the day he ever stopped doing that; just behind them were Barbara and Nancy who with pitying eyes were watching Jonathan and next to her Steve...he had his hands on his hips as he used to do, for as long as you could remember, when he wanted to do something; he was wearing a green sweater and had his eyes on you...again

"Jesus is so depressing," Steve said, earning giggles from his companions.

And after him Tommy, with his usual dick-face shouted "how much you want to bet he's the one who killed him..." so that everyone could watch him now with a menacing look.

You had turned away from the older Bayers, turning to see his face after Tommy's sentence: you continued silently walking, ignoring their presence when the younger man's voice echoed in the hallway, "You know Steve, I think it was her instead...they say she was the last one to see him or isn't that y/s," a cold shiver ran through your body. You tried to keep calm, not to let fear and humiliation overwhelm you, her words capturing everyone's attention, turning your weakness into a public stage.

"And tell us, what did you do with the body? Do you keep it at home for your collection?" spat Tommy, you felt your face ignite with embarrassment: as tough as you liked to show yourself you were never prone to brawling nor were you ever inclined to respond to accusations,

And one among them knew it well...

"Y/s the sadist," cried Carol.

Choked with that gum

3 against 1 was not a good prospect....

The tension in the air was palpable, and Tommy's every word felt like a direct blow to your heart. His arrogant face, accompanied by the laughter of his friends, made you feel increasingly vulnerable.

"Don't you have anything to say, Y/S? Or are you too busy thinking about how to justify yourself?" he continued, with a mocking grimace plastered on his face. "Maybe you even have a secret diary in which you write about all your crimes, huh?" anger and embarrassment mingled in a whirlwind of emotions. You felt trapped, an easy target for their cruel amusement.

Frustration invaded you. Your voice rose, surprising yourself.

"Oh, sure, Tommy. Why don't you write about it in the papers huh? 'Y/S: the girl who makes her friends disappear.' It might be trending,and you'll make more money than is already coming out of your asshole?" you replied sarcastically, trying to maintain control as your heart pounded.

Steve, who had earlier taken part in the game, remained silent, his gaze fixed on you. His expression was inscrutable, a mixture of surprise and--something akin to concern?

"Tommy, stop it. This isn't funny."

His voice was firm, a tone you never thought you'd hear him use with that group: the air grew heavier. Tommy, for a moment, was speechless. He wasn't used to being berated by Steve, much less to defend...you; leaving everyone surprised

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" hissed Tommy, but his voice lacked his usual tone.

"Leave her alone," Steve repeated, in a tone that left no room for doubt. The expression on his face, for a moment, turned hostile, something you never thought you'd see.

Nancy, approached Jonathan, while Carol and Tommy hesitated.

It was as if something had changed...

You still felt Steve's eyes on your skin, and a small hint of a shy smile appeared on his face, then, with a quick glance, he turned and walked away, joining his steps with those of Nancy and the others.

You were left alone, your heart still in your throat, watching their departure. His unexpected defense, his sudden protection, left you confused and incredibly disoriented, worse than the night before, and as you walked away, you wondered what had prompted Steve to intervene. Had he realized he had gone too far? Or was there something deeper going on? The answers, for now, remained unknown, but in that moment, the weight on your conscience eased a little.

Classes passed quickly that day, not that you paid much attention to them.

Why everything now you wondered?...

At the sound of the bell you quickly gathered your things, you had to catch up with the kids outside school because they had said they urgently needed to talk to you...you took the bike parked outside without even bothering to put the books in your backpack that were now clutched in your hand: the biting cold froze your bare hands resting on the handlebars, you didn't pedal much because the school was close and you managed to get there in no time seeing them waiting for you

"Y/n" shrill voices reached you.

"Hey guys" you greeted them with a lopsided grin as you approached them "so what do we have to do today?...are you waiting for Mike?" you exclaimed noticing the absence of one of the usual delke heads

"He stayed home with El," Lucas said.

"And that's where we have to go... "said Dustin.

"Oh...okay" came out of you....

You thought this day would never end....

With backpacks still heavy on our shoulders, we hopped on our bikes headed for the Wheeler house. Upon arriving we were greeted by the warm light of the living room and the established familiarity of the place empty of people; it seemed as if time had stood still here, and the eerie feeling could not be ignored.

"Is Eleven still in her hiding place?" You asked, receiving an assenting yes, and indeed you reached Mike's basement door; something dark hovered in the air: Lucas preceded the group "Eleven!" he called. "Are you here?"

From inside, no sound was heard but on the sheets spread on the floor Eleven's silhouette was unmistakable: sitting, her shoulders hunched, her eyes closed, her face pale, and next to her Mike

"Guys you can't understand ... she knows ... she" he blurted incomprehensibly reaching for you

"Hey, hey, calm down," you said as you approached little Wheeler.

"What does she know ?" Spat Lucas not quite convinced yet by the weirdo.

"He knows about Will," blurted Mike.

"What?" Shouted you Lucas and Dustin.

"He's in danger..."

"Will?" asked Lucas, a growing frustration in his tone. "We can't leave him there alone!"

But suddenly, the girl stiffened and in an authoritative voice said, "No!" Her gaze grew intense, almost as if she were trying to wrestle with something invisible. "It's not safe...I can't..."

Lucas approached her. "So this is all a game? Mrs. Wheeler needs to know what's going on! We can't stay here and waste time!"

his footsteps were suddenly interrupted: the room's previously strong, low lights began to flicker slowly more and more as if they were going to burst, leaving us enveloped in beams of light and shadow that intermittently lined the room.

The dull sound of a slamming door reached your ears.

"What's going on?" asked Dustin, looking at the door, Eleven rose to her feet, her eyelids lowered, a trickle of blood wrung from her nose, "We can't go," she said, "they see us..." Her voice broke again, and a tremor ran through her body.

She had done it...

Silence reigned in the room.

El had her arm outstretched toward you menacingly....

wait wait so you're telling me that little squirt in front of you has the gift of telekinesis? There and she has powers!!!? That's crazy, just...

"They who?" You asked, frustrated and agitated but realized that, despite your growing fear, you had to keep calm for Eleven, who knew more than she had ever revealed and now the mystery seemed darker than ever.

"I cannot...help you..." Eleven repeated, blinking. "They will destroy you. It's my fault..."

Lucas leapt back. "What? You're not serious. We have to help him!"

With an unthinkable effort, Eleven stepped forward, forehead furrowed, nose bleeding. "I can try to explain to you where he is..."

Lucas and Dustin's eyes lit up. "If you try, we might find a solution!" Dustin,

"We need you! Please!" Pleaded Mike tenderly to the girl.

Before you tried to do anything with that little girl the sound of the front door opening reached your ears and with it the sound of Mrs. Wheeler's shrill voice: hurriedly you pushed Undi into the hiding place of sheets sketched out by Mike the previous evening and just in time before Karen entered the basement

"Oh good you are all here, hello y/n"

"Evening Mrs. Wheeler..." you greeted with a show of hands.

"Are you staying for dinner? I bought a lot..."

"YES" you shouted in unison, earning a smile and a surprised look from Mike's mom: now more than ever you couldn't leave the little girl alone not after what she had told you about Will. "Well then it won't take any time at all start getting ready," she shouted to you as she walked away from the room.

Closing the door El came out of the fort and walked over to the table: with both hands she took the large D&D board that the boys used to play on still open and left where it was since the night Will disappeared and flipped it over. We approached her as if to surround her by positioning ourselves on either side of the table staring at the scenario that had presented itself before us, dripping with curiosity.

"Will is stuck," said Eleven, her voice serious.

"What are you talking about?" asked Mike, confused.

Eleven pointed to the board "It's here," laying on it a figurine representing the game creature

"Demogorgon?" whispered Dustin, smiling nervously.

"It's not just a game," retorted Eleven, his gaze intense. "Is... it's real. Will is in danger."

The group remained silent, their faces lit only by the glow of a dirty streetlight. The atmosphere grew heavy, as if the basement had become a place steeped in mystery and frustration.

"All right," you said, breaking the tension. "What do we need to do to help Will?"

"We need a plan," Mike replied, his mind already racing between different strategies to defeat the Demogorgon. "If he's stuck, we need to find a way to free him."

Each of them knew that Will was more than just a character in a game lost in a dark world; he was in a place he knew so well but was simultaneously foreign to us.

Why turn the board over?

Why, because....

Of course...

A world foreign to us...we might as well try things could only get weirder now

You approached the girl by putting yourself at the same height as her...you gently touched her shoulder to reassure her and at that moment you looked into each other's eyes

"Will is ...in a different place from us? They didn't kidnap him here did they?" The girl looked doubtful but at one point her expression softened as she moved her head in assent

Ah! Did you know.

In the room electricity reigned supreme as well as silence:metabolizing that your best friend might be in an alternate dimension to yours is certainly not something that can be digested very easily, you watched each other n the eyes as if to find a sitting soliton that wouldn't jump out of the hat though

"Food is served!" interrupted, again, Mrs. Wheeler, setting a pot of stringy macaroni and cheese on the table. The kitchen exuded a delicious smell, but that scent was not enough to divert the boys' attention from other problems: you hid Undi in the fort again to set out for the kitchen where, seated at the dining table, the boys exchanged glances, silently agreeing to keep their previous conversation hidden by shifting their gaze first to Mike then to the hushed whispers of Lucas and Dustin and finally to you.

The meal proceeded quietly and for you also quickly, none of those present had much desire to talk, you especially, but the quiet was broken when Nancy began to speak "so mom later I was thinking about going out with Barb..."

"No Nance it's dangerous you know what just happened..."

"But mom we, we...have to attend a vigil for Will."

Vigil for Will? That wasn't on your agenda

"For Will? Why didn't you tell me anything and why aren't you attending?" Karen asked, turning to look us in the eye.

"Well because we organized it, for the older ones," said Wheeler saving the conversation

"Bah if that's why go ahead, but be back by 10:00 p.m." "Y/n would you like to accompany her? It's safer with the car" You choked lightly on the soda that had poured into your glass at their mother's words: eyes were on you

The boys wanted you to come back down

Karen wanted an answe

Nancy was pleading with her eyes for you to say yes or else that lie of hers would immediately blow up

With a pleading look you looked at the 3 boys as if to apologize, but reluctantly you had to accept "the invitation," "Huh yes " you replied with your mouth full as you watched the young woman rearrange herself cheerfully and smugly.

Your heart beat frantically as your thoughts crowded in your head: you had taken Barb with Nancy's car ,which you were driving. Your mind was now fixed only on what Undi had told you and on what was going on in the basement without 'the knowledge of the people upstairs: you feared that those 4 might get into trouble again perhaps alone or end up like Will.

The words of the conversation between the two friends sounded to you like something far away, you kept driving but where were you supposed to get to...right, what was the destination?

"Ehhm then where do we have to go?..." you asked as you observed them from the rearview mirror: Barb's silhouette was recognizable by her red hair and eyes turned skyward, evidently opposed to Nancy's ideas who with fluttering eyes watched me her reflection at the makeup mirror.

"Oh right," Nancy exclaimed, remembering your presence.

"At Steve's house."

What!? You would have liked to brake the car immediately and leave the driver's seat for one of them to drive back, better with the children than with him, but you couldn't it would have all seemed too strange: you were gripping the steering wheel so hard from tension that your knuckles turned white and you only noticed when your hand began to hurt.

You hadn't seen or entered that house in...how long? It seemed like centuries...

The drive down the road you reluctantly knew by heart was short-lived, you got out of the vehicle and approached the shiny black door of the Harrington house....

It's funny last time it was a lighter color...this drew a slight smile from you that remained hidden from the other two girls who had swooped in front of you leaving you alone behind them with your hands in your pockets from the cold. Your idea, surely more tempting, was to run away; turn back start the engine and run away home but it would have aroused even more suspicion than the expression on Steve's face once he opened the door.

A short time later you were greeted by the boy you had seen a few hours earlier at school: beaming smile, perfect hair, impeccable appearance, and cigarette on his ear; all fell away when his eyes landed on you.

Your presence there was as unwelcome as it was unexpected.

"I had to take her with me otherwise my mother wouldn't let me out," Nancy justified, earning only a silent smile from the boy as a sign of accepted apology and a lopsided, annoyed look from you

Actually I brought you here...otherwise you couldn't come, you thought.

When you walked in, you felt overwhelmed by a reality that seemed so distant from the one you remembered.You would not have minded moving around that house again but in the living room you saw the silhouettes of Tommy and Carol sitting on the couch, luckily they had not noticed you as you stopped at the threshold of the front door uncertainly. Steve's 'attitude changed the moment the girls reached the pool and his eyes met yours, you warned him.

"S/n," exclaimed the host almost in a whisper so as not to be overheard by the others, with a surprise that betrayed a hint of embarrassment, how long has it been since you heard your name spoken by him

"Hello, Steve," you replied, maintaining a neutral tone as his heart clenched in a vice.

"I wasn't expecting you here," he said with surprise and discomfort.

"Well, it's not like I had much choice," you whispered, trying to maintain an air of indifference.

You paused on opposite sides of the doorframe, each word like a small pebble thrown into a deep well: it was strange and at the same time funny to have him so close, as kids he was just a little shorter than you and now he was hoping for you distinctly "we haven't spoken exactly since..." he resumed

"since you decided I was less important than your popularity?" you replied

"Yes, it's been too long," he replied, his heart pounding, "I just thought it was for the best."

"What do you want me to say, Steve? You left me out while you continued to play king as a child."

An aching silence settled in the space between you, you cast a glance over his shoulder, toward the party: Nancy and Barb were laughing, their faces lit up with joy as it had once happened to you in those very walls; to stay there with Steve would mean another confrontation, another wound between them. It would be pointless and embarrassing.

"Maybe I'd better go," you said, your voice calm but veiled with sadness. Steve remained silent as you opened the front door to walk away into the darkness. Although the noise of the party was audible, a deep silence asserted itself inside him, an unbridgeable emptiness. He had made the mistake of giving it away briefly and now, perhaps, it was too late to make up for it.

Turning away from the house and walking down the familiar street for a moment you had the senation you could still hear, like echoes past, your children's laughter echoing in the garden....

We used to run on the porch, afternoons spent building pillow shelters and imaginary castles.

"You can't like that, Steve. You're the king and I'm your queen," said the little girl who had climbed a low wall as Steve threw dried leaves at her.

"No, T/n, I am your knight! I will save the kingdom and become king!" declared Steve, puffing out his chest with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Time ceased to exist as they wielded imaginary swords, fighting dragons and monsters that lurked in the shadows of the courtyard.

"You're the worst knight ever, Steve!" you giggled, chasing after him as he clutched in his hands his improvised sword fashioned from a stick. "But what would happen if you were captured by the scary dragon?" You asked sincerely.

He laughed, "I will save you! Always!" The promise echoed in your head and now in your soul with present awareness

as in all fairy tales, the magic is bound to fade: there are boys who move on and others who continue to be children, like your knight and there are princesses, like little you, who are not saved and in order to protect themselves wear the hard armor themselves...

[collapsedglasshouses]

PLEASE SHUT UP || Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader [Part One]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @saradika-graphics

PICTURE FOUND ON PINTEREST

REQUEST [by @yumikitten]: I'm just gonna keep on this Ruffilo train if everyone is okay with it. Ahem. What if Y/N and Nicholas got into a fight? Something that really made them snap and started yelling at each other, saying things they weren't really meaning? It could also just be something super silly tbh. We've all been there. 😅 But Nick finally gets suuuuper tired of screaming at each other and just kisses her to shut her up, which then leads to makeup sex. 😉 I could see him spitefully telling her at some point that he's gonna have to remember this if it got her to shut up so quickly. 🤣 Please don't feel obligated. 😁 My mind is just going zoom. 💕

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, I'M DEEPLY SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG. I had a severe writers block over the last couple of months and couldn't bring myself to work on requests. As compensation i have decided to make a two-parter out of the request. The setting is a maybe a bit different than expected but I hope you like it anyways! Part Two will hopefully be posted soon! ♡♡♡

WARNINGS: angst, cursing, fear of failure, fighting, small room, ... (let me know if i missed something)

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit (Let me know if you wanna be added to my general taglist!)

Ever since Y/n had been a child, she was surrounded by music. Her dad was the guitarist of a local rock band and her mom had been playing the violin since forever.

She remembered clearly how her mother had told her that one of the first things she did as a child was smash hey tiny little hands onto the piano that stood in the family’s living room.

As Y/n grew older, her taste in music also changed. Even though she had been learning to play the piano since the age of just four, she noticed how her taste shifted from soft and classical music to later pop and then heavier stuff.

Maybe it had been some kind of rebellion in her teenage years, maybe it had been her father’s taste in music that influenced her or maybe it was her first ever boyfriend who introduced her to Bring Me The Horizon, when she was just fourteen. All Y/n knew, was that she soon found herself sucked into the world of metal and metal core.

It was no shock to anyone close to her, when she was hired to play the keyboard in a band called Bad Omens.

She had met Noah through mutual friends while gaming during the pandemic and they soon became close friends. The band had been working on their third album back than and though it sounded more than good when Y/n first listened to it, Noah thought something was missing. That was when Y/n came into the picture. She had delivered them some parts that amazed the boys so much that they offered her a place in the band. She had gladly accepted it.

Since than the band had been thriving. From tours all over the world, making Y/n travel to parts of the world she had only imagined as a child, to streaming records that made her dad jump in excitement, every time she visited her hometown. Everything was going well for the band.

For Y/n in particular though, nothing was well. Nothing had been like she hoped it would be. While she had grown close to three of her bandmates, one seemingly hated her guts without explanation.

At first, Nick and she had gotten along quite well. She remembered nights where they sat outside and chatted about the most random things while seemingly not getting enough of each other’s presence.

But over time, things had changed. First, he started to distance himself to the point where it couldn’t be called anything but avoidance. Soon, the complaining began. He began to roll his eyes when she said something that made the others laugh. He started making snarky side comments every time she did something slightly different in her performance. Nothing Y/n did was good enough in Nick’s eyes and hell did it annoy her.

She couldn’t wrap her head around what she did to him to make him act that way towards her, considering she was the only one that suffered under his behavior. With everyone else, he was an angel on earth. Always sweet and caring.

Even though she missed the time where Nick acted like that with her, she began to mirror his demeanor. She began to criticize him just as much as he did with her. She was so fed up that she even started to loathe the time she needed to spend with him in one room.

Saying that was difficult was an understatement. Everyone noticed how they started to act and soon the mood started to deteriorate because of their behavior.

But the breaking point was only yet to come.

The stage was set, the lights were dimmed, and the crowd buzzed with anticipation. The band was about to kick of another concert on their tour and Y/n could feel the familiar hum of excitement and nervous energy that waved through the packed room. This was nothing new for Y/n, yet tonight was different. There was an additional weight pressing on her tense shoulders – the intense gaze of Nick, whose eyes seemed to bore into her from across the stage.

As Y/N's fingers glided over the keys, she couldn't shake the feeling that every note she played was being criticized. She stole a glance in Nick's direction, only to find his expression unreadable, yet filled with an intensity that made her uneasy. The rhythmic thump of the bass only increased her anxiety, and the once effortless connection she felt with the music began to waver.

In the midst of a song, Nick shot her a look so disapproving, Y/N lost it. She stumbled over a chord, the crooked sound echoing through the venue. Panic set in as she struggled to regain her composure. She knew the crowd hadn’t noticed but for her it was a disaster. For the rest of their set, her heart seemingly jumped out of her chest in a mix of fury and anxiety. Nick's disapproving glares persisted, each one a sharp stab at Y/N's confidence. The usually seamless collaboration between band members now felt like pure pain to Y/n. All she did for the rest of the evening was desperately trying to avoid the heavy judgment of Nick’s eyes.

As their performance ended, Y/n felt empty. Heavy tension lingered in the air when they went backstage to compliment each other on another successful concert, but Y/n couldn’t bring herself to feel good. She fucked up bad and only because Nick couldn’t stop with his childish behavior.

After Noah and Jolly comforted her for a second, she came to a stand in front of the bassist. The rest of the guys walked away to calm down, while Y/n’s eyes bore into Nick’s.

Without even thinking, she dragged him into a small room filled with technical stuff.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/n?” Nick protested as she closed the door behind them.

“What the fuck I’m doing? Could you tell me what the fuck your problem is, Nick?” She shouted at him, not holding back one bit.

“I did nothing.” He quickly defended himself and wanted to grab the door handle, but Y/n walked between him and the exit.

“Keep your fucking judgement to yourself next time.” She warned him and looked into his blue eyes. The rage that fumed inside of her quickly caught up to him.

“Maybe don’t fuck up your notes next time.” He hissed at her.

In the dimly lit room, Y/N couldn't hold back her frustration any longer. "Nick, you can't just keep brushing off my opinions about fucking everything!"

Nick's eyes flashed with irritation. "Well, maybe if you understood music better, your opinions would matter."

The words hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Y/N shot back, "You know, not everyone worships your bass lines, dickhead!"

“Oh, come on, are we this low now?” Nick mocked her and tried to get out of the room again.

“I’m not letting you get out of this room until you finally tell me what the fuck I did to you, Nick.” She fumed at him, her back now pressed against the door.

As the argument escalated; Y/n trying to get answers, Nick trying to avoid the talk; both felt a surge of anger and hurt. But suddenly, Nick, became quiet, took a step forward, his eyes meeting Y/N's defiant gaze.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” – “What?”

Before Y/n could react, Nick grabbed her face and, with an unexpected intensity, kissed her. Time seemed to stand still as Y/n noticed what was happening. She was confused but at the same time she couldn’t bring herself to push him off her. Her eyes fluttered shut as another feeling entered her.

Need.

A feeling she had been suppressing since the second he became cold towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he pressed her firmly against the door. It was a kiss full of anger, frustration but also passion as Nick devoured her lips. Soon he travelled down to her neck and even though a small Parton her was still furious about his action, she definitely needed him more than anything in this moment. He bit her exposed skin, not caring a single second about the marks he was leaving on her as she whimpered in pure bliss. When she tugged at Nick’s hair, he softly moaned against her neck, signaling her she wasn’t alone with her thoughts.

Right as his hands started to travel down her shirt, she remembered what was going on and grabbed his wrist.

A stunned silence enveloped them, broken only by Y/n’s words as they looked into each other’s eyes. "You can't just kiss me to end an argument!"

Nick looked at her with wide blown pupils. It looked like he tried to find his words, but nothing came out.

“Oh look at you, now you can’t even talk to me anymore.” Y/n mocked him with hate in her voice, before she pushed him away from her. She left the room with agony.

She hated Nick for making this whole thing even more confusing than it already was. But she knew one thing.

This was never happening again…

PART TWO COMING SOON

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep. 14: Part 3/3

Hello again!! =D

Part 1 and Part 2

Warning: long post 😊😅 (also, I'm so sorry for the delay, I've been sleep deprived for the last two to three days because my insomnia and depression made comebacks, but I'm better now)

She reminds me so much of my own mom-

My mom adopts my friends, and no one has any say in it, while my dad encourages her 😭👍🏼

I absolutely love her relationship with all of them. While it's given that Peem will talk about Phum, Q has talked about Toey too, and it's quite obvious that Peem and his og group of friends have visited quite often before. She asks no question, and is so comfortable with them that they don't hesitate for a second to introduce their boyfriends. This is maybe not realistic (I'm pretty sure my mom while very similar wouldn't be this accepting) but it's very in line with this show, and I really like it.

GIVE ME MORE ACCEPTING PARENTS IN BL!!!

I am 100% sure that for a moment there, Phum's brain short circuited 😭

I mean, just look at it from his perspective. The boy he's head over heels for talks about him like this to his mom. If it were me, I'd be having an existential crisis right there, he has much more self control than me.

I'll be living here, in this moment for the next 1000 years, thanks for asking.

Listen, I'm a big fan of domestic fluff, BUT THIS???

Also, I don't usually talk about these, but on Phum's t-shirt, it says "ALWAYS FORWARD NO TURNING BACK" which is very relevant here because Peem helps him see a future, and to enjoy the present as it comes back. He's slowly but surely leaving his scarred past behind.

I have so many fic ideas smh

And yet, I don't really see you, complaining, Peem.

He says while sipping from his own glass. Very convincing, Peem.

THIS WAS SO CUTE OH MY GODS 😭😭🫶🏼

Btw, Peem? Phum is calling you "meow" for the rest of your lives. Just like you'll be calling him Puppy Phum. <3

oh-

These few seconds spoke so much.

The realization that this is what a real family is supposed to look like, that he'll probably never have this with his own parents.

But then- then he realizes that now he can have this. He can have Peem, and a family full of love and sit in the midst of his brother and his friends and Peem's friends and be accepted and loved.

Maybe he can't have this with his own parents, but he can have this with Peem, and that for him, is already far more than he could have ever imagined.

I just love that addition 😭😂

Peem is absolutely incapable of not calling Phum some version of "idiot (affectionate)" and I adore him for it. <33

Oho, violent Fang is back.

But seriously, let the others sleep, Pun and Toey 😭

THIS LOOK. ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US??

There's only two eps left (?!!!!!), so I really hope that the next one is when they get together

The small thumb soothing his tummy 🥺🫶🏼

All we got are crumbs of ChainPun throughout and they still managed to make us go insane. Mad respect for their friends who have to deal with them on a daily basis 😭👍🏼

Also, when Peem got up to ask what they were doing and Phum pulled him back to sleep, did y'all see that tiny forehead kiss? My man never misses a chance to kiss Peem, and I am so proud of him.

This reminds me of such a funny story-

So. We went to visit this historical building (note: historical) and the stairs leading up were naturally kind of steep and broken. It was very crowded, so it was four or five teams/families to one guide. We went up slowly, but since the guide was obviously very used to it, he went up faster, and was waiting for us at the landing. So one couple asked how he got there so fast, and he jokingly said "I took the lift" and the man was like "Why didn't you tell us before?? One of us [I don't remember who he said] just had knee surgery!" and the rest of us were just staring at him like ???? are you listening to yourself- 😶

My parents and I laugh about it to this day 😭😂 (this was almost 8 years back OH GODS SAYING THAT MADE ME FEEL SO OLD-)

What next ep looks like:

What I looked like after watching the trailer:

(In that order.)

That's it for ep 14! See y'all in 4 days (I fear for what will become of me after I watch ep 15).

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here have a croissant 🥐

[bardicious]

Hi friend do you have any Charles/Erik fic recommendations of a gentle variety? I watched the First Class era recently and am just….a lil broken up Re:: the pain of Charles losing his best friend and his sister at the same time… and then bottling up that pain for as long as he could until “you took her away and you left me!”

Okay, nonnie! I've got a few here that may interest you. Now, I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort fics, so I can't promise anything too gentle, unfortunately. 😅 (Most of my bookmarks are hella dark apparently) Anyway! Ill list you some I recently read, and mostly remember.

How Still My Love by Regann

"A mysterious sleeping disease, three loyal guardians, and a friend-turned-foe with unclear motives. It might sound like something out of a fairy tale but it's life after Cuba in the Xavier manor for what's left of the so-called X-Men. When Charles can no longer lead them, it's up to Hank, Alex and Sean to figure out a way to protect their mentor, especially once Erik comes seeking an audience. (Variously nicknamed "the Fairytale Fix-it," "Snow Charles and the Three Wishes," and "Alex feels via Charles/Erik." All three are pretty accurate.)"

This one I highly recommend, it's so cute, and the way the author played with fairy tales is fun. Fair warning tho, Erik doesn't stay at the end of this fic. But Charles' heart is a bit more mended.

Second Chances by justavagrant

This one is a time travel fic. Basically young child age Charles, Raven, and Erik replace their older counterparts. The kids build a close friendship real quick, and I believe it's ongoing.

Another Like Me by Ad_astrah

It's 1950, young Charles is getting his powers under control. He meets Erik, 19 years old, who's tracking down Nazis and killing them. They go on a little adventure together.

Elpis by garrideb

Cute protective Erik, injured Charles. This fic is a treat!

Not Yet by GenuineSnoof

"AU - No Beach Divorce and no bullet, but Erik still didn't stay at the school for good. They have an established "with benefits" relationship."

Cold Hands, Warm Heart by pinkoptics

Cherik fic set in Genosha!

Idiot Control Now by cygnaut

"Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it."

Come Together by blarfkey

Series of fics, from Peter's point of view. Decent amounts of Cherik.

Peter's Stepdad by nzeedee

"Peter takes his time to observe and learn more about Erik as he works up the courage to make a family connection. Soon he realizes that Charles is a valuable asset in Erik's life and they may come as a unified pair."

AND some honorable mentions:

First Class Era:

5 Ways Logan Fixed Everything (Like a Boss) by Starlingthefool

Reverse Polarity by smilebackwards (powerswap fic, can't remember well tho)

What Not To Expect When You're Not Expecting It by thehoyden (mpreg, but if you're not into that, I'm not usually either, I think this one was done in a fun way)

DOFP:

A source of knowledge, a source of hope by redaurorarora

Post/Apocalypse: (these might be my favorite, I'm a sucker for comforting charles after apocalypse)

More by humanveil

things we lost in the fire by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

all the things i thought I knew (I'm learning again) by spacenarwhal

Hope you like these, nonnie! Sorry if they couldn't be more gentle! I do hope they're more satisfying than the end of FC. 💀 I know your pain.

[mywritingonlyfans]

the prompts are so cute idek which ones to ask for, i lowkey want them all 😭😭

maybe:

042: "My parents are coming over in 10 minutes so please put some clothes on" and

058: "We’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about. "

i took a while because i almost gave up out of embarrassment, you were the only one who sent 😅 but here we go with something!

here's the prompt list.

He was running late, which was typical of him, but this time it was your fault. You were supposed to wake him up a few minutes ago, but his serene face and angelic expressions were too precious to be interrupted. You had been gazing at him for quite some time now, dressed and ready, anxiously waiting for your parents who had just called to let you know they were on their way. They would be there soon, and you had failed to wake Alex up on time as you had agreed, to which he had eagerly consented, fearing any behavior that could make your parents dislike him (which was certainly impossible).

"It's cute, but you've been smiling at me for a long time now, and it's startin' to get a lil' bit creepy," he lazily smiled, stretching with a comforting grunt. You smiled in response. Indeed, you had been sitting by his side for quite a while. He had a soft post-sex glow, flushed cheeks, as well as a disheveled mess of hair perfectly spread across his forehead. Not to mention, he wasn't wearing any clothes, with just a thin sheet covering his lower half, but still revealing the tantalizing connection between his abdomen and legs. It was a sight that was hard not to admire cautiously. You bit your lip at the thought, not feeling bad about it.

"Have you been awake for a long time, babe?" he asked, to which you were certain, judging by his expression, that it was the second time he had asked since you weren't paying attention. He held onto your waist, analyzing your face and the exposed skin of your chest through your thin shirt. You remembered a time when he had told you that he wished he could verbalize his feelings like you, in just a few words and complementary gestures that made him feel enveloped by you. But the look he was giving you, along with his warm fingers gently caressing your skin, screamed and overflowed with the same reciprocity, and just as intense.

"Not for too long, just enough time to shower and brush my teeth," you let your forehead rest against his, grazing your lips on his nose, cheeks, and mouth multiple times, causing him to slightly close his eyes and surrender to your touch. You hadn't been living together for very long, but it felt as if every minute of it made Alex wonder why he hadn't done it sooner.

"You could have woken me up," he playfully nuzzled his nose into your neck, pulling you closer to him. "I could have join you, little one. You smell so good." You chuckled, snuggling even closer. "I'm glad you don't think I'm stinky." Your hands held his face, allowing you to gaze into his bright and puppy brown eyes. You couldn't help but kiss him all over again. At some point, he placed his hands over yours, making the golden rings clink together, a sound that made both of you laugh, unable to describe the sensation.

You had lost track of time, not even remembering why you had gone to him in bed after the phone call. You could even affirm that you didn't recall the phone call at all until the doorbell rang. You looked at him with wide eyes, the realization that you and him should be ready by now. "Don't tell me it's your parents," he raised his eyebrows affectionately, holding back a laugh. He knew you well enough to expect that you had let time slip away.

"I'm sorry, I should have woken you up, but you looked so adorable, I couldn't bring myself to do it." His cheeks turned rosy, and you loved the effect you had on him so much that you did it on purpose. You always did it on purpose, no matter the situation. He quickly got up, with you clinging to his neck, and hugged you tightly while trying not to let the sheet fall to the ground. "I'll let them in and give you a few minutes to get dressed," you declared, disentangling yourself from him with a sigh that clearly conveyed that this wasn't what you wanted to be doing. Alex chuckled, pulling you back towards him by the waist, and you could feel your hairs a bit crazy on the spine as his lips brushed against your shoulder.

"Come on, Alex, I know it's my fault, but you have 10 minutes to get dressed and join us downstairs," you whined playfully, not even trying to break free from his embrace. Your instinct was to pretend you weren't home, but Alex wouldn't disappoint your parents.

"Just one more quick kiss," he requested, and you obeyed, hearing his satisfied exhale as you dashed towards the door. Alex swiftly put on his pants like never before, and as soon as he slipped on the same long-sleeved shirt from the night before out of sheer haste, he saw you reenter the room with a shout that you were already on your way as the doorbell was echoing through the house, and you grabbed his coat for yourself, something he didn't hesitate to allow. His clothes had become yours anyway, he helped you get decent on his piece. It was burning cold. You looked comfortable and that made him happy.

"Hurry up," you whispered with a teasing smile before leaving once again, and all you could hear was his voice, still hoarse and marked by sleepiness, saying, "We've become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about, y'know." He found himself happily running his fingers through his hair, unable to contain a silly grin.

As for your parents? By this point, they had become accustomed to how clumsy you both were when it came to each other, and living together only amplified that situation. Everyone expected it, and they, as well as all your friends had grown used to it.

[someone-elsa]

(part 1 of 5)

🔙 Chapter beginning ⬅ Previous Chapter • Part 2 ➡ 📝 About the story and characters

Alex and Justin sat on a bus to San Sequoia where their supposed grandmother lived. Kody had wanted to come but he had been needed at the Newells'. Alex had changed his mind about going a dozen times but in the end, Kody and Justin had been able to convince him to go.

Still, he was anxious and debating if it was wise to go. But he had started keeping those thoughts to himself and let everyone think he was content with the trip.   We will be on our way back in a few hours, he assured himself.

Justin's phone had beeped constantly. He had giggled at the texts and quickly replied, only to snicker at the next message. Alex had forgotten his earphones and was getting annoyed with his little brother.

"Okay, what is it? Who is it?" Alex said, almost snapping when Justin had just received the hundredth text.   Justin was startled and blushed deeply. It took Alex aback; he didn't remember ever seeing Justin so flustered.

Justin didn't do good job hiding the screen and Alex got a quick glimpse.   "That's… River's brother, isn't it?"

"…Yes," Justin said like he had been caught doing something forbidden.   "I didn't know you two were friends."

Justin sighed. "We have been for some time, since the Photo exhibition party last year. He convinced me to finally get higher education and since we both now study at SSCU, we see each other quite often. He has sent me all these memes, they are about studying or this series we have been watching, you wouldn't get them… Anyway, he's fun!"   "So it seems."

"We have so much in common! Next week, we're going to a board game cafe in Bluewater Village…"   Alex studied him and gave a sharp, knowing look.   It made Justin even uneasier. "…What?"

"You like him."   "Yes, he is my friend."   Alex snorted. "You like like him. You fancy him."

Justin opened his mouth to protest but not a word came out. "I don't know, maybe. I have never felt like this about anyone. You know I'm ace, and I thought that maybe I'll never have romantic feelings either but… maybe I just hadn't met the right person."

"So…"   "What? He's taken. And I like his girlfriend. Like, as a friend. I couldn't think of going between them. They are so good together. We are friends and never anything more. And he must not know about this, it would make things awkward. Never tell anyone."

"Promise!" Justin said as Alex didn't reply.   "I promise, I promise!"

"I'm super pathetic, right?" Justin sighed. This was another side Alex hadn't seen before. Justin was always so carefree.   "Aren't we all?" Alex said clumsily. He really wasn't one to give advice.   Justin shrugged.

"San Sequoia Bridge should be just behind that hill," he said a moment later.   Alex sighed. "Is it too late to turn back?"

Notes: I realised I hadn't posted chapters on tumblr in a long time. Sorry! 😅

[midnight-mourning]

Good morning, mourning! is it possible for you to show us how you make an outline for writing a chapter sometime in the future? like what does your first rough rough draft look like?🤔

also whats your favorite vine/meme at the moment?🫣

Hi pip!!

I can actually show you RIGHT NOW as I keep all my outlines (for the most part) saved in their respective chapters

*added a read more post-answering bc this got LONG lol*

So, it's sometimes a bit dependent on the fic, what I'm writing at the time, and where I'm at in the process. I usually have two different methods I stick to and typically combine in some manner:

bulleted list of important scenes/ideas to expand out upon from there (typically how I start out ideas for oneshots)

big blurb paragraph of a flow of ideas from start to finish (typically how I start out chapter-based fics, and what I do for Confused Spirit)

From there, I'll then combine the two methods in some way if it's a oneshot, and if I'm struggling to get the words flowing for a chapter-based fic, I'll use the list to expand out upon things I wrote originally. For example, this was ch. 34's outline (spoilers for those who haven't read it yet):

and then the list I added once I got started properly, which I crosssed out as I went along. Fun fact, you can see where I hit a moment of greatness in that last bullet and the chapter came together as a whole from there:

the blacked out is things I've pushed back for later (or just general spoiler stuff), so you can see that inital plans and even those I make WHILE writing the chapter are still subject to change as I go into actually writing it. Another good example would be from ch. 32:

in this case, I went back and added to the original outline (I think you can tell where lmao) and didn't utilize a list

I'd love to find chekov's gun, bc that one was REALLY good if I'm remembering correctly but I think it's buried somewhere in the Dialogue Dump unfortunately 😔

Adding on to that, I write a lot of scene ideas/mainly dialogue for things that happen in the future as the ideas don't typically come to me in chronological order. the party from 33? like a month into writing the story. the team meeting Michael? mid-arc 2. Chekov's gun? the start to midway point in the first couple days of writing and then basically finished within by the middle of august (started in July for those that don't know)

My point being that there's a lot of things that I have saved for certain arcs/plot points that I then insert into their proper place in the story once I find where that is. For arc 3 in particular I took the approach of gathering all the dialogue i KNOW was going to be in the arc, wrote my lil blurbs for all the chapters, and then started placing them accordingly. stuff has (and probably will continue to) gotten shuffled around, but for the most part has stayed in their original places.

a rough rough draft beyond that is basically adding to those base scene ideas (sometimes in order, sometimes not) typically writing dialogue and then filling in the blanks from there! sometimes if I'm lucky I can write a chapter from (mostly) start to finish in a span of four hours or so but that's only when i'm REALLY cookin'

Sorry for the super long winded response, didn't realize how much I wrote until I did it 😅

TL;DR, blurb of ideas, organize those ideas/add to them or adjust, full send it from there (with the potential help of some dialogue along the way)

As for my fav vine/meme currently? Probably the lump fish guy, everytime someone says 'very mindful, very demure' (I am not on tiktok so I do NOT understand this one) I instantly think 'very beautiful, very powerful'

thanks so much for the lovely ask!!! <3 <3 <3

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Just a little question regarding your beloved Nate ego Parker Thenope :)

I am currently drawing the interesting character that he is and I am curious about his mask! You mention that it is carmine and that he uses it mostly for privacy reasons if I remember correctly. Would that mean it covers his face fully? How does he see out of it and is there any significant details or a specific design that it has?

And one more thing- Is there a certain style of clothing that he wears?

I'm super excited to finish drawing him!!!

Well, that detail was inspired by how Nate went through a decent period of wearing a face mask at all times, both irl and on social media.

So, Parker's mask is just that: a basic face mask that rests on the bridge of his nose with straps for his ears. It doesn't cover his head head at all: just the stuff under his eyes. So, he can still easily see and preserve his anonymity (except for when he's swimming, but y'know).

Plus, to keep up with The Pentas Family's trend of red signature items for its members, the fabric of Parker's mask is dyed carmine, whereas Nate's face mask is simply black.)

And as for the rest of his attire...

For one thing, I can see Parker casually wearing swim gear under his day clothes. Just because he goes swimming so often (Plus, his way of work usually involves drowning, and hit-jobs can pop up somewhat randomly.)

For another thing, I think he'd also wear casual emo stuff similar to Nate. Mainly a zippered hoodie over a tank top with black jeans.

In fact, the zippered hoodie in question would have a tie-dye job a lot like this one, except with a dark, dull shade of green instead of blue:

(Since Nate has a bunch of tattoos, then logically, Parker has a bunch of tattoos himself. But as much as I love tattoo stuff, it'd make sense for Parker to cover them at certain times. Just so he isn't potentially recognized while in public.)

(Also, if you'd like some more details for the other colors of his clothes, just let me know. I assume probably not, since you seem to mainly draw with pencil. Not having a go at you for that, lol. Just overthinking as usual)

Thank you for your interest in the character! I'm excited to see what you end up posting!

Sorry this took so long to answer; stuff keeps popping up irl for me, plus my laptop has been running a little slow lately 😅

[snakepitgunner]

I am considering it, I have tickets to the London and Manchester shows but they’re not until April so I might send something his way in a few days just to see what’s going on.

A little of everything, I honestly couldn’t concentrate on what he was doing the whole time, he definitely pushed his tongue deep inside me a few times and that made me lose it. When he knew I was gonna cum he’d kinda suck and gently bite and bury his face in me.

His fingers were incredible, he just knew exactly where to go and how fast to go, and he liked to watch his fingers slide in and out, he sucked them and then let me suck them.

When I was on top, and when he took me from behind he asked me to tell him if he was hurting because I’d already told him how big he was. Mostly the whole time he was just really loving and intimate about it, I remember at one point when my ankles were over his shoulders and I was shaking with how good it felt, and he said ‘Yeah? You like that?’ And went even deeper/faster. It was a lot of praise mainly, telling me I was beautiful, and so sexy. (I hate writing this because I sound like I’m blowing my own trumpet).

We talked a little before and I asked him if he wanted me to tie him down like I’d seen him before in his music video and he just laughed and told me he wasn’t really into that stuff.

Once he was comfortable taking me from behind and knew he wasn’t hurting me he did smack my ass a little.

I’m around 5’2, brown hair past my shoulders & brown eyes, pale white- like textbook English doesn’t see the sun😅. I’d say I’m a small pear shape? I don’t know if that type is universal but I have a little tummy that I’m quite self conscious about but Slash loved it, I told him I hated it and he kept squeezing me and even kissed/bit me there. I’m 34B which by his standards id say was small because I know he prefers bigger boobs, but I think his obsession is just boobs in general.

I hope this is okay, sorry the reply took a while, I had to get up early for work.

Did you already have tickets to the shows when you were with him? Was that why he gave you the email to get in touch around that time or did you get them after?

Don't feel weird about talking about how he was praising you. We are all living through you right now. When I say we all want every detail, I'm being serious. My inbox is full of people asking me to get more information out of you. We all love this stuff.

I always imagined him being a dirty talker so the praise thing is really interesting to hear. He has such a gentle voice so that probably made it even better.

You have a little belly doesn't surprise me though. He's been into women who weren't stick thin quite a bit. It's another reason Meegan was such a shock. She is very thin and his history doesn't support that body type.

Feel free to take as much time as you need to reply to these questions. I'm on at random times but also, we'll all wait as long as we have to. Every single one of us is pretending to be you right now, lol.

[Originally posted on February 7, 2024]

[soffiisims]

Storytelling Secrets 🤫

Thank you @zelenxa for tagging me! I'm not very good with these kind of things, but I' ll try my best!

In my game, I'm actually in the year 1335 😅. So buckle up, because we have 21 years' worth of posts to go through! 😵

We will be meeting new chracters from Sweden and from Novgorod, Karelia. In 1323 Sweden and Novgorod (medieval state in northern Russia) made a treaty in Pähkinäsaari, where they regulated their border going through Finland. No one really watched over the border, so people crossed it as they pleased and lived on like they used to. But the treaty didn't last long and Sweden and Novgorod went back to always brawling. So in my UDC we'll see travellers from the border, that are fed up with this. And from Sweden we might meet a soldier, who had been at the border trying to keep the Novgorodians out of Sweden. Maybe these characters will find their way into the familytree... 😏

We are going to have to mash up households, because death is all around us. There will be orphans. And brothers and sisters have to be somewhat separated.

I'm looking forward the 1600's, because I've planned a witch hunt. Healers will probably suffer.

I'll not have the 100 year war in my game, because it really didn't effect Finnish (well, Swedish) peasants. Also I'll leave out the black plague in 1348, because it really didn't come to Sweden until 1350's. But I try to remember to include it 1420's, when it struck to Finland as well. Long story short, I'll bend the rules following Finnish history.

I'm a little sad, that I haven't been able to represent the pagan customs and catholic belief living side by side in my playthrough yet. In Finland we have this famous legend of Finnish peasant Lalli and this English bishop Henry (fin. Henrik), that tells the story of how keen Finns were to absorb catholic belief. Our Middle Ages as a historical time period starts from this legend and bishop Henry in 1100's, when catholic belief was forced to Finns. As the time went on Finns became catholics, but the pagan customs lived strong beside it. We'll be exploring medieval holidays and celebrations, that took place in Eastland at that time. Maybe not so much in 1300's, but hopefully more later!

Sorry if this wasn't so juicy and maybe even a little boring one. I'm telling these historical things very vaguely, because I'm not an expert and my knowledge is mostly common, more or less things learned in school. But I do tend to check my facts! And I love to read about history a lot!

Anyways, thanks again for the tag and I'll give this froward to @lilabella12 (I love your UDC and trying to catch up with it!) and @idletrait (I've gotta start reading your "new" playthrough too, it looks so cool!). If you don't want to do this, it's fine and if you have already done this, I'm sorry, that I've missed that! Have a lovely day! 👋🏻🌻

[sansacherie]

how are you feeling about the upcoming season 2? are you looking forward to it? i always think of that post you made saying that whenever i miss the show i'm really just missing alicent. i'd like to enjoy the show and i'd like to see more of alicent, but i can't feel much more than dread because i don't have any faith that they will treat alicent in a fair way. i really appreciate having mutuals like you who see how impressionable the audience is against alicent and how much more forgiveness the narrative has for its men than its women (esp green women)

hmm yes and no 😭😅

i'm invested in alicent. because despite the writers' approach, the intentional/unintentional, i failed to hate alicent, or even feel sorry for her in the the way some sanctimonious viewers do, full of cold and distant pity which enables no real empathy or understanding. i became invested in alicent, and i loved her.

but at the same time - no. she's not the only reason, but she is a big one. i dread the way they're going to approach her in s2 because it's a good chance its not going to be fair, or at least they're not going to be fair if rhaenyra or team black looks bad in the process.

like one of the reasons i'm not looking forward to it is because of alicent deciding to crown aegon because it was "viserys' wishes". because of this i know there are people hoping that later when rhaenyra holds the capital she'll tell alicent that he meant something else entirely different. and the cynic in me would be like why would anyone believe that anyway? honestly it would look like rhaenyra attempting some form of legitimacy. but by then why should alicent care? so viserys believed in a prophecy. so did his descendant rhaegar targaryen and he ruined so many lives just like viserys, including a 14-16 year old girl while he was at it!

just because they believed in prophecies doesn't mean they were right or interpreted it correctly. doesnt give them the right to play with other people's lives like that.

another reason why i dislike it is that the change took away a lot of the complexities that came with the green coup. i don't have a problem acknowledging the sexism that plays a factor. but alicent is also someone who long before she was forced to accept the realities of her children supported rhaenyra's claim and who told rhaenys targaryen she should have been queen. maybe one can say she was just trying to soften rhaenys and maybe that was partly influencing her but at the same time honestly she didn't HAVE to say it. like she could have just told rhaenys the cold facts of the situation and left it at that.

but there are people in this universe who don't think a woman should rule even if she is the undeniable rightful heir and will go for a male option even if his claim is so weak it's a joke. like the male cousins who tried to contest jeyne arryn's rule for example even though she was her father's only surviving child. alicent isn't like that. but she also isn't going to ignore her son's rights which is just catelyn stark coded aka most medieval noble women. the thing about book alicent for example when people call her ambitious is that alicent wasn't really asking for anything more? the expectation for most noble women outside of dorne (and even in dorne there are still some houses where sons inherit before daughters)!) is that their firstborn sons will inherit their father's lands/castles. i remember reading a while ago someone on here saying alicent should have been content with her children being princes/princesses because if she married into another house they wouldn't be royal. and that irked me (not the person who said it) because i would take this take more seriously if viserys organised strong matches for them. but of course he didn't because of a) targaryen blood purity and b) subconsciously to prevent alicent building a cause but in that case maybe viserys shouldn't have bloody remarried! it's that simple. but then again this is the same man who didn't see the holes in the jace-helaena betrothal so who knows.

so yes ultimately alicent did "usurp" rhaenyra partly because of sexist notions (sons v daughters) but at the same time rhaenyra's inheritance exists on the whims of a man! i just can't help but think rhaenyra might have been more interesting in a story where she decided to challenge aegon's claim simply because she was older and wanted to be queen, maybe arguing that just as aegon the conqueror took the realm with dragons she can take the iron throne because she has more than the green faction/her brother.

and going back to alicent she defies the wishes of said man for her children! viserys is/was her husband so she should obey his will but instead she will crown aegon anyway and defy her husband's wishes. people lose out on that because they're too busy being pissed about rhaenyra.

these writers don't deserve alicent

[soaps-mohawk]

Oh, we love the update🫶 Take your time for the next one, no pressure🫂

You're slaying, breaking hearts, and making people gnaw at the bars of their enclosures. Thank you for your wonderful brain coming up with the concept of this fic. It will be one of those fics you'll think about at the dead of night, years after it's been completed.

So, I can clearly see your fic seeping itself into our minds at the dead of night just as we're about to sleep or have nothing else to do.

I can also assure you, as an AO3 reader who's been on this one fic with no update schedule, it may take months for the author to update, but it's all worth it in the end. The author takes their well needed rest, and the reader gets to foam at the mouth.

I've also seen this one comic, the author took a year break(they stated they didn't know for how long they'd need this break, just until they were okay) for personal reasons. None of us really minded. If they needed a break. They can take it. Doesn't matter how long the break will take, you as a person are important.

And, it's very amazing to me how people can come up with these ideas. I've never seen a story like yours. It's unique. It's mind scratching. And it tells me what day of the week it is. Like, what do you do to come up with this? This masterpiece?

Anyway, sorry for the rant😅 You don't need to reply to this at all! Just wanted to say my appreciation. Please take care❤️

Y'all I can't 😭 this is too kind. I so wish I was better at taking compliments 🫣 i feel like I'm just constantly repeating myself but y'all just leave me speechless with your kind words.

No but I only know what day it is because of crcb too 😂 updating those two weeks on Sunday really messed with my head lol I had to delay my laundry to Tuesday because I was so off on Monday being the day after posting

Don't apologize!!! Send me a novel in my asks I don't care (I'm so old I remember when there were character limits on tumblr asks 😂)

[cloud-somersault]

Hey, how are you doing? I hope you’re alright. 💕 I’ve been reading your status updates on Constellations and the Epilogue, and I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re amazing. Your writing is incredible and I love it. Your stories are so well thought out and the characters are ✨on point✨, and the plot is complex and detailed and aaahhh! It has me hooked! 🤩

And I understand how it hurts when you put so much effort and love into a story, only to post it and not see others be anywhere near as excited or invested as you are. I know how discouraging it can be. And it may be a little silly, but I do want to apologize for not commenting lately—life took some difficult turns for me healthwise around the end of last year and I haven’t been able to catch up! I’m still on Chapter 4 of Constellations! 😭 BUT Chapter 5 is open on my phone, and I am READY to read it as soon as I have the time (and mental energy, but that’s a whole ‘nother issue 😩). Don’t worry that your writing isn’t enough, or be discouraged if some readers don’t catch hints while others are figuring it all out seemingly too easily. Everybody reads and comprehends stuff differently, and it’s not a sign that your writing is bad if they don’t catch it! Honestly, I’m pretty bad at catching hints the first time I read a story unless they’re pretty darn obvious. I don’t usually notice subtle hints until the second, or third, or even seventh read-through, haha! (on the bright side, rereading stories and rewatching TV shows is always fun!) 😅

I guess what I really wanted to say is… don’t give up hope. Don’t lose your love and enthusiasm for your works, or feel like they aren’t worth writing because others don’t seem interested in them. At the heart of it all… at the end of the day… write because you love to. Because it makes you happy. And know that it doesn’t have to be “perfect”—the main goal should be that you enjoy it. That’s something I’m trying to teach myself, too. 💕

Thank you for taking the time to write this message and send it. I appreciate you're very kind words 💕I'm doing okay, I just had to take a step back for a bit from socials and stuff. I'm gonna keep that up for a while.

Please don't apologize for not commenting or taking your time reading. Your health always comes first, and I'm sorry if I came off as childish or needy, that wasn't my intention. Two things just happened that set me off and the timing of it was incredibly poor 😓

Please take your time reading; none of it is going anywhere, and don't feel obligated to leave comments either. i'm realizing that, even if chapters are short or long, finding the time to finish things is difficult, and everyone lives different lives. And I'm sorry about all the spoilers on this blog, I'll tag that better from now on.

But I really do think I got confused or disjointed in my perceptions; everyone here knows so much because i've been asked questions and given answers and people have interacted, so people following me here have more context than the average ao3 user. But I've kinda been expecting everyone to be on the same page, which will never be true.

I'm also the same way where it takes me a while to pick up on hints. I actually changed my writing style to prevent this. I got tired of reading books in college where you had to dive into every little thing. the hints and clues weren't obvious to me. I decided then that, when I wrote, I wanted things to be bold, obvious, but beautiful. I didn't want to make readers feel like they're missing something. I wanted them to trust that every answer, every clue would be answered in time. I made that promise to myself a decade ago, and being reminded of how different people interpret things just...made me remember.

I take writing really seriously, probably too seriously, but I've been doing it for so long and I love doing it. I want to be good at it. When it feels like I've gone back on that promise to myself, I get frustrated. I think of ways I could've fixed things. But I also remember that those books and those writing styles just weren't for me. I wasn't the target audience.

Sorry to go off on a tangent, but I wanted to explain why I got upset. I still love Constellations and I'm posting it on ao3 out of convenience, really. It's easier to reference and search there in one "Entire Work" than to have 5 documents open. The fact that others can see and read and have fun is a bonus. But I'm committed to telling this story, and I'm gonna finish with a bang.

Thank you, I won't forget why I'm doing this and that my thoughts/feelings come first! 😤I hope your health concerns are taken care of soon. Take it easy, and thanks again! 💕