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[annasellheim]

So this was on the @writing-prompt-s site- so I'm treating it as a writing prompt. (I can't fucking draw right now due to a busted shoulder, so I'm doing a bunch of them because I'm alone, hurt, and sad, and they're fun).

Anyway, the story:

I sat down next to him. I looked at my former student, now an adult. A brilliant engineer. I remembered him. I had really liked this kid. The man in front of me was impressive as hell too. It didn't surprise me at all.

"I'm really, really sorry this hurt you. That I hurt you. What I was trying to do was show you some techniques. My goal was that, later, after you learned them, you could deviate from them and make your own thing.

We have a set of guidelines of things we need to teach. It's a mandatory curriculum, with national guidelines, just like math or science or whatever. But it varies from state to state. And who the hell knows what they do in private school. And the curriculum isn't focused on self expression as much as teaching you how to use fine motor skills and..."

Shit, stop it Anna. You don't need to keep justifying yourself.

I try to remember when he had moved away during the school year. I wonder if I hadn't gotten to the point in the spring semester where I gave my students more lee way, to experiment and deviate from the techniques I showed them. To let them decorate their dishes any way they wanted. To make trees and flowers for different seasons. I wondered if he had been part of one of my first classes, before I figured out how to create a really solid curriculum.

Regardless, I could have been clearer about it. I was new to teaching when I had him as a student, I know that much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, barely keeping it together for the first, like, 4 years I taught. And there were 20-30 students in my classes. It took me a a while to figure out what works and what doesn't in the classroom.

The most important thing was this man in front of me. He was way quieter and more hesitant than the kid I remembered. I hope I didn't do that to him, but I'm was probably reading too much into it.

I took a sip of my coffee.

"You know what's cool tho? The shit you've been doing at work-"

He looked surprised and snorted.

"What?"

"You swore."

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, to be fair I'm not in classroom mode right now.

Anyway, the stuff you've been doing at work, it all sounds like it takes a ton of creativity to accomplish."

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Well, you've been on the forefront of a bunch of stuff because you think outside the box. I'm glad I didn't rob you of that."

We sat next to each other on the bench. He was thinking it over. I was trying to not dwell on the fact that he brought this up, that he had carried this pain with him for 20 years.

"Do you still make art?"

"No, not since elementary school, since my last-"

"Your last required art class. Got it."

I gave him a side eyed glance.

"You know you can get back into it at any time, right?"

He was taken aback, he obviously had never considered it.

I smiled. I've had this conversation before, many many times.

"It's not like a sport or something. You can start at literally any point in your life, you don't need to be young and in peak physical condition. Art ain't basketball.

The cool thing too is that you can choose what you want to make, you're an adult. Nothing in art is required for you to learn. You can pick any class you want, or no class at all."

I gave him my business card.

"If you shoot me an email, I can give you some books to read for you to get started. Not to teach techniques, but exercises that help get you back to the point where you just make stuff. I think a LOT of people stop making art for all kinds of reasons, not just because of a novice teacher. There's been a bunch of stuff that's come out recently to try to help adults make art again. y'know, to recapture the joy of it."

We said our goodbyes. I really hope he thinks it over and reaches out.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[xoxochb]

omg aphrodite!reader having her first kiss with percy <3 it would be so cute rahhh

— ribbons in your hair ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff!!! pairing: lovesick! percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite

“do you like ‘em?”

you smile brightly and turn around with a jump, revealing to percy your two braided strands tied at the ends with tiny pink ribbons. what kind of question was that, though? like them? of course he liked them! he liked anything that had anything even slightly to do with you.

“they’re great! I love them.”

you squeal and run over to sit atop your bed next to percy. absentmindedly, he takes this opportunity to take each of your braids between his palms delicately thumbs running over the curves of your hair, and ending over the ribbon tying it all together. he silently hopes you can’t see the utter adoration in his eyes or perhaps the faint blush coating his cheeks or the way he feels completely limp simply sitting beside you.

“(name)…” he murmurs, releasing your hair and letting his hands now fall on his lap.

“yes?”

shit. the soft tone of your voice makes him feel weak. thank the gods he’s sitting down.

“uhm…” he searches for the right words. no. he shouldn’t do this now, not when one of your siblings could walk in at any moment (and he new drew wasn’t entirely the nicest person either. that girl’s scary as shit). “nothing.”

you murmur an ‘oh’ and your smile falls into a frown.

“sorry, I just- well… it was nothing important, I didn’t think you’d care much.”

“I care about everything you have to say. even if it’s stupid. or one of your stupid dad jokes.” your lips turn upwards a tad at the mere remembrance of his idiotic humor.

“you hate dad jokes.”

“well, yours are okay.”

percy’s heart flutters like butterfly wings. please aphrodite don’t make me look stupid, he thinks to himself. though by now he’s probably already made a fool of himself. he’s hopeless. slowly, with a shaky hand, he reaches out to gently take one of your hands into his. he looks up to meet your eyes to look for any sign of discomfort with the action. he finds nothing.

“(name), have you ever…” he swallows harshly. “have you ever kissed anyone before?”

your brows furrow and you murmur, “no.”

oh. he was sure you had to have kissed someone before. you were… well, you! a favored daughter of aphrodite, kind, absolutely stunning, and admittedly a little horrifying sometimes. he loved you all the same regardless.

“I’ve never kissed anyone either.” it’s silent for a moment before he works up the courage to ask the next question. “would you maybe want to… well actually- can I tell you something?”

“of course.”

“this might be weird and I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore or if you’ll hate me… but I just… I really like you. more than friends. and I get this is weird but I really like you, it hurts, like in my chest it physically hurts me and it’s hard going everyday not telling you that I love you when I do and its almost unbearable at this point, I mean you occupy all my thoughts everything’s always about you, and don’t get cocky over that because I know you will and you’ll never let me get over telling you that but really what I’m trying to say is that—”

his ramble is abruptly ended when he feels a sudden warmth over his lips. for a moment he can’t understand what’s happening, but when his senses are regained he realizes it’s your lips that are locked with his, and his brain turns to soup, any coherent thought he once had diminished. and he lets himself sink into it despite the nervous storm of butterflies in his tummy.

when you eventually pull away he nearly whines at the loss of contact. though he remembers your hands are still entwined and calms. his gaze sticks on that.

“you talk too much,” you whisper. “and you’re right.”

“about what?” percy looks up to your eyes. though the mischievous glint in them makes him wish he hadn’t asked for clarification.

“I am so never going to let you forget that everything is about me.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [11] - Blast

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.

When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.

Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.

“We have found the one.”

You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.

“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.

“Not for us!”

“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”

“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”

You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”

“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Our group chat.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”

“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”

“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”

Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”

Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.

“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”

“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.

“I googled it.”

“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.

“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”

You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”

“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.

Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.

“Your coworker?”

“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”

“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”

“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not over Logan yet.”

“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”

“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”

You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”

“Deal.”

                                                 *

 One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.

Well.

Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.

But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.

You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…

You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.

“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”

You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.

Oh, he was already there.

If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.

However—

Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.

“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.

“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.

“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.

“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.

“I’m Hayes.”

You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”

Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.

“Uh, hi again.”

“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”

“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”

“So have I.”

“Jamie showed it to you?”

“Technically no.”

You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”

“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”

You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”

“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”

You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.

“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”

“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.

“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”

“And walked in on her and my best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Former best friend.”

“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”

“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”

Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”

“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”

“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”

“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.

“Hey, I talked about my ex.”

“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”

Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.

“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.

“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Do you like where you work?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”

A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”

You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”

He sipped his wine.

“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”

“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”

That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”

“Oh he still keeps those?”

“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”

“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”

“Really?”

“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.

“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.

Logan.

A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.

“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”

Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”

“There was a small accident—”

“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”

“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”

You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.

“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”

“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”

“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”

“Sorry, again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.

                                                 *

If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.

Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.

He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.

“Hey—”

“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.

“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”

When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.

“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.

 “We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”

“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”

You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”

Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.

“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”

“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.

“Bean?”

The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.

“Bean, are you there?”

“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.

“You think you can open the door?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”

“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”

“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”

“People will be angry at me.”

“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”

“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”

Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.

“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”

“You hear that, bean?”

“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.

“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”

“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”

A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.

“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”

“…No.”

Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.

“Theo.”

“I found him here and we’re friends now.”

“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”

“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.

“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”

There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.

“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”

“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, him.”

Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.

“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”

                                                  *

Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.

There it was again.

Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.

 The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.

You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.

“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”

You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”

“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.

“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.

“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”

You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.

“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”

You smelt like—

Oh. Hayes had hugged you.

“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.

“He’s fine, princess.”

You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.

“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”

“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”

You took another sip of the whiskey.

“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.

“For now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”

“That’s not true.”

“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”

You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.

“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”

You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.

“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”

“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine.”

“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”

You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”

Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.

Oh.

This. You were familiar with this.

You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—

Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.

“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.

“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.

“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”

The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.

“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.

[lustlovehart]

Dang over 700, that’s impressive congrats!

If you still have requests open, maybe we can see/hear more about Sebek? I love the idea of him as a swamp monster tsundere dumping flowers on MH! Reader and find him fun~

Summary: Humans are pests. They’re the reason Malleus has fallen from grace, and why Lilia is no longer in his prime. He hates you, and everything your job stands for. He hates the way you’re not like them. He hates how you’re too kind. He wants to hate you, yet he can’t at all.

Warnings: Tiny bit of Tsundere Sebek, He thinks about 💀 you (he changes his mind dw guys!!), Mentions of his monster crimes, Little tiny hint of obsession, Implied human eating, Sebek sketch at end!

Your feet are dipped into the water, ripples cascading off where the limbs land, tranquil and cold, the shadows of the trees just further enriching the experience.

The one thing that isn’t relaxing about the water however, may as well be the guardian of the swamp, who’s practically breathing down your neck.

“Well human? Have you had your fill of this sacred marsh? I will not have you linger here longer than necessary! I only allowed you in to show the true essence of beings like us.”

Despite what leaves his mouth, you have a striking feeling that he won’t throw you out.

Because, that’s the fourth time he’s said that, and he’s yet to drag you out.

Through the close proximity, you place your palm on his face, softly pushing him away in your annoyance, yet like a magnet, he attracts himself right back to you, finding his place in the area to be right by your side.

“I’ve drowned many of your kind, don’t push me away so carelessly…!”

“Have you drowned me yet?” He stutters for a moment, racking his brain to find a suitable excuse as to why that is. He stops when you lean back on the grass, looking up at the sky as you lay down.

But to your dismay, he finds one.

“My liege wants you alive, so we must do what he wants.”

“You want the best for him right? What if the best for him is getting rid of me?” You’ve once again stopped any retort on his tongue, your eyes fluttering shut. Your feet continues to dangle in his waters, breath steadying as you let the sound of dew drops falling into the marsh invade your ears.

In your slumber, you don’t notice the way Sebeks scaley face is centimeters away from yours, trembling inhales. You’re right. Getting rid of humans is the best for his liege, for… all monsters really.

His clawed hand reaches up towards your throat, his nails scratching a line in your skin. Webbed fingers tremble, he could, he really could…

He could help everyone.

…

His hand falls, his forehead falling onto yours. His skin is rough, but he takes care in placing his head softly on yours to not wake you up. His palm follows in suit, laying itself on your throat, cold blood feeling the warmth of your mortal body.

And your heart. He remembers reading about human hearts, how they’re important to they’re bodily functions. Without it, you’d die. It’d be easier than killing you himself. He doesn't know which is better, for himself. He could take pride knowing he rid the world of one more wretched monster hunter, or he could rest in comfort knowing you passed in peace.

Sebek doesn’t notice the way the plants have emerged from the water, taking hold of your legs. There’s a particular branch that caresses your face in a certain manner, one completely inappropriate for a human. His mouth hangs up, immediately ripping the wood from your flesh. He throws the twig away, his head turning when your visibly stir at the motion.

He’s not well versed in human care. He's read about it, but obviously he’s never acted upon it! His hands fumble, if he’s correct, one of the quickest ways to knock a human out is to hit them really hard…! But… He doesn’t wanna do that—

Ah, you’re asleep again.

Sebek carefully lifts himself from your body, water dripping onto the grass from his hair. He slowly backs himself into the water, the only part visible being his head, before entirely disappearing into the murky water.

He realizes something in the comfort of his pond.

He… He wouldn’t need to kill you if you just… never left. Neither would you ever disturb the peace of any other beasts.

Under that water, he ties a knot, petals floating above the marsh at his bouquet. As well as a hand, that drops deep down. A coworker of yours. He’s unsure why you’re the only one he’s not too keen on consuming, yet he can so easily do it to those you know.

It doesn’t matter. They’re the same. Taste the same too.

…

You awake to a lonely sight, Sebek gone from the scene. Though, your chest feels heavier than usual. You look down, and an array of different plants and greenery fill your vision. It’s wrapped in flimsy wood bark, moss tying the piece together.

There’s a note hastily inscribed.

Human, leave soon.

Even without reading the message you know it’s Sebek. You assume it’s from his human hatred he writes such mean words.

In truth, that’s part of it. You’ll never know the other is him not wanting to see the corpses at the bottom of his home. Or maybe you will. Especially when you notice a shiny pendant gifted inside the flowers. Assuming it to be a sweet gesture from Sebek you smile at it. Such a happiness slowly fades when you feel a certain familiarity with the necklace.

… You feel like you’ve seen this before.

[paigesluver]

for me? | chapter_1

paige bueckers x fem reader

synopsis; you and paige share unspoken feelings for each other, resulting in an escalating tension that complicates your friendship and challenges your emotions

warnings; sexual tension, emotional conflict

hi hi! this is the first chapter and it took me so long to be happy with the outcome. i hope everyone enjoys it and let me know what you think!

Waking up at eight in the morning was part of your daily routine. As the director of the media team at UConn, you had a lot on your plate: ensuring everyone had their assignments for upcoming practices and games, approving various media, scheduling everything meticulously, and preparing for interviews and conferences. You loved the hustle. At just twenty-three, you were already one of the most dedicated directors, a title you’d earned after starting out as an interviewer and photographer.

After finishing your morning routine, you laced up your shoes, grabbed your keys, and tossed your laptop into your backpack. You gave your apartment a quick glance before locking the door and heading to your car. 

A few minutes later, you pulled into the parking lot of the basketball facility, you slid on your headphones and grabbed your key card to enter the building. Typically, you were the first one in, but as you passed the basketball court, you heard the unmistakable sound of squeaking sneakers. Curious, you paused and spotted a blonde ponytail in motion. You walked backward until you reached the glass windows, peering inside. There she was—Paige Bueckers, effortlessly sinking shots from way beyond the three-point line with the kind of ease most people could only dream of.

You walked back to the nearest door, slipped inside, and made your way to the court. As you approached, Paige’s voice rang out. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” she said, watching the ball swoosh through the net before turning to face you. 

“How did you even know it was me?” you asked, tilting your head with a smile. 

“You’re the only one crazy enough to be here this early,” she said, chuckling. “And look who’s here.” She pointed at you with a smirk. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” you shot back. “Touche,” Paige said while you laughed, shaking your head as you jogged over to meet her. “You really have a thing for calling me out.”

Paige shrugged, giving you a playful wink. “Hey, someone has to keep you on your toes.”

You exchanged a quick dap, but before you could fully pull away, Paige wrapped her arms around your waist in a sudden hug. The warmth of her caught you off guard, and for a second, you just stood there, soaking it in.

“I missed you,” she said, her voice quieter than usual, though still full of that familiar playfulness.

You chuckled softly. “Alright, you got me. I missed you too.”

She pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, her mischievous grin back in place. “So, what’s the plan? Are you ready to show me up on the court, or are you just going to stand around being all cute?”

You glanced down at your watch. “As much as I’d love to stay and shoot hoops with you, I’ve got a million things to do today.”

“Right,” Paige said with an exaggerated eye roll. “The director’s got to direct. You’ve got all that important work to do, don’t you?”

“I do,” you said, feigning seriousness. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it back later. Might even grab some footage of you practicing... just because.”

Paige raised an eyebrow and shot you a teasing look. “Oh, so I’m your muse now? Better get my best side.”

“Always,” you replied with a smirk. “But honestly, every side’s the best side.”

She laughed, tossing her head back, her ponytail swaying. “Smooth talker. Alright, director, go do your thing or whatever.”

You waved as you turned to head out. “I’ll be back. Don’t miss me too much.”

As you walked toward your office, the light in your chest made it hard to wipe the grin off your face. Not just because of the work that lay ahead, but because you’d been lucky enough to get a little piece of something special every time you spent time with Paige.

You settled into your office, finally diving into the mountain of emails that had piled up overnight. The routine of work—scheduling, approving media, prepping for upcoming games—helped keep your mind from wandering too much. You focused on the tasks at hand, pushing away any stray thoughts of the court, of Paige, of the way her laugh echoed in your mind long after she was gone.

The hours passed, and your stomach rumbled around noon, reminding you that you’d barely eaten. You grabbed a protein bar from your drawer and got back to work, responding to emails and crossing off one to-do after another. Between finalizing the schedule for an upcoming game and reviewing media coverage, you barely noticed the time slipping by.

Around 2 p.m., your phone buzzed on the desk. You reached for it absently, expecting another work-related message. Instead, it was a text from Kaia: hey, want to hang out tonight? maybe grab dinner or watch something?

You stared at the message for a long moment, your finger hovering over the screen. Kaia had been sweet to you, and you liked her—really liked her—but things had felt different since that night at the bar. That night with Paige. The tension that had simmered between you two, that casual teasing... it had unsettled you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You couldn’t deny it any longer: something was shifting between you and Paige, and you couldn’t ignore it. And yet, here was Kaia, reaching out with the kind of ease you wished you could feel.

But you knew you couldn’t go out with her tonight—not with the feelings you were trying to suppress, not with the way your mind kept circling back to Paige. You didn’t want to lead Kaia on when your heart wasn’t entirely in it. And you definitely didn’t want to be unfair to her. She deserves someone who could give her their full attention, not someone who was tangled up in confusion.

You set the phone down without replying, forcing yourself to focus back on the work in front of you. But the knot in your stomach remained. You weren’t sure if it was guilt for ignoring Kaia’s invitation or the unresolved tension that still lingered in your chest every time you thought about Paige.

The clock ticked on, and you tried to push both thoughts aside as you finished up the last of your tasks. Just as you were about to close your laptop, your door creaked open.

"Hey, director," Paige’s voice called out, light and familiar. You looked up, and there she was, leaning against the doorframe with that grin of hers—the one that always made your pulse pick up a little too fast.

“Busy?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she stepped inside.

You smiled, leaning back in your chair. "Not at the moment. What’s up?"

Paige walked further into the room, the scent of something delicious filling the air as she set the bag down on your desk. “Thought I’d check in on you. And, y’know, bring you something to eat. You’ve been working through lunch again, haven’t you?”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Too late, already did,” Paige grinned, pulling out a Caesar salad wrap, crispy fries, and your favorite passion fruit juice. “You’ve been stuck here all morning, so I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “This is very sweet of you P, I was just starting to get hungry.”

“Figured as much,” she said, flopping down in the chair across from you. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you, making sure you don’t work yourself into the ground.”

You laughed, opening the bag and grabbing the wrap. “You’re spoiling me now, my favorite from Gansett’s? How’d you know?”

Paige leaned back, resting her arms behind her head casually. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, you think I wouldn’t know where one of your favorite meals is from?”

“Not a lot of people pay attention to things like that” You laughed, shaking your head.

Paige’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Well good thing I’m not just anybody.”

You felt a strange flutter at her words, a mix of admiration and something else that was harder to pin down. She wasn’t wrong—she had a way of making you feel like she really saw you, and that made you feel… something more than just friends. You quickly brushed the thought aside, not sure you were ready to unpack it.

Paige laughed, but this time it was softer, like she caught the shift in the air between you two. She held your gaze a moment longer, her expression a little more serious than usual. “So… you’re still sticking to that ‘all work, no play’ routine? No chance of you coming out and having some fun tonight?”

You paused, considering. There it was again, that casual invitation. The kind of offer you would normally take without thinking. But with everything that was swirling inside you—feelings you couldn’t even begin to sort through—you couldn’t bring yourself to say yes.

“Actually, I was supposed to meet up with Kaia later,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. A flicker of guilt washed over you. You hadn’t really planned anything with Kaia—you’d just ignored her text earlier. “But, uh, I think I’m going to go meet her after all. Just need to get out for a bit.”

Paige gave you a long look, her brow furrowing slightly. “Oh yeah? That’s a change. Haven’t seen you take a break in forever.”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Yeah, figured I could use one.”

Paige didn’t press it, but the air between you felt a little heavier. She stood up, brushing off the hem of her hoodie, and gave you a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, don’t let me keep you. But if you ever want to ditch the routine, you know where to find me.”

"Thanks," you said, your voice quieter than you meant. "Maybe next time."

Paige paused at the door, glancing back at you with a look that you couldn’t quite read. “Yeah. Maybe next time.”

You watched her walk out, her footsteps fading down the hallway, and a strange knot tightened in your stomach.

Kaia’s message was still there on your phone, waiting to be answered. You were going to meet up with her, but something about it felt a little off now. The weight of Paige’s words and the tension in the air lingered, but you pushed it all aside for the moment.

You grabbed your phone and typed out a quick response to Kaia: 

hey! dinner sounds good, is Latina Cantina cool with you?

You hit send and tossed your phone back on the desk, hoping dinner would help take your mind off everything.

A couple of hours passed since Paige had dropped by your office. You buried yourself in work, crossing off to-dos and reviewing media, but your thoughts kept flickering between the tasks at hand and your conversation with Paige. Before you knew it, late afternoon had rolled around, and practice time was approaching. You decided it was about time to head over to the court to get some footage of the team.

Grabbing your camera gear—lenses, extra batteries, and your bag—you made your way toward the gym. The familiar sounds of practice greeted you as you approached: the squeak of sneakers, the bounce of basketballs, and the low hum of players in motion.

When you reached the court, you immediately spotted Paige. She was in the middle of a drill, her blonde ponytail swinging as she drained shots from beyond the three-point line with ease. You smiled to yourself, knowing you'd be in for some good footage today.

You pushed open the door to the gym, which creaked slightly as it swung wide. Paige turned her head and, as soon as she saw you, her face lit up. She waved you over with a grin, clearly enjoying herself.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” she said, tossing the ball up into the air, making another effortless shot. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

You chuckled and adjusted your camera, walking over to her. “Busy doing responsible adult things, you know how it is,” you said with a smirk. “But I’m here now, and I’m ready to capture all your greatness.”

Paige shot you a teasing look. “Better get a good shot of me then,” she said, setting herself up for another shot. She launched the ball into the air, sinking it with ease. She turned toward you with a playful grin. “That’s one for the highlight reel, right?”

You snapped the picture, laughing. “Definitely.”

Paige ran to the other side of the court, getting back into position, and you quickly moved to adjust for the next shot. She continued to hit shot after shot, making it look effortless. With every successful basket, she’d glance back at you, pointing toward the camera as if to say, “That was for you.”

The entire team was in sync, their chemistry on full display as they went through drills, but Paige was in a class of her own. Her movements were smooth, controlled, and she made it all look easy. You kept snapping photos, capturing everything from her perfect form to her focused expressions.

After a few minutes, you decided to move around and get shots of the rest of the team. You greeted the players with high-fives and daps, snapping pictures as they got into their respective drills. Some of them flashed quick smiles for the camera, while others focused on their practice. You even took a moment to greet the coaches, giving them a wave and a nod before heading back to catch more action. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you could feel the energy in the air as the team worked together.

About an hour or two into practice, you decided to start wrapping up. The team had been working hard, and it seemed like a good time to pack up for the day. You took a last round of shots, then slung your camera bag over your shoulder.

As you headed for the door, Paige caught your eye once more, flashing that signature grin. “Don’t forget about me now,” she teased, tossing the ball to a teammate. “Make sure you get my best angles next time.”

You waved at her as you walked toward the exit. “I’ve got plenty of footage. Don’t worry,” you called back with a grin, feeling the weight of your day settling in.

As you stepped out of the gym, the sounds of practice fading behind you, you made your way to your car. You had done what you came to do, and now it was time to head home and get ready for your dinner with Kaia. The evening was calling, and though your mind was still half on the court, you knew you needed to focus on the night ahead.

Your phone buzzed again as you walked toward the exit. It was Kaia: “Latina Cantina works for me, see you there?”

You typed out a quick response, feeling the familiar pull of anticipation as you headed for your car.

“perfect, see you later.”

With everything wrapped up at the gym, the rest of your day fell into place. You were ready to unwind for the night, but that lingering feeling—thoughts of Paige—seemed to float just under the surface. It was hard to shake them off, but for now, you’d focus on getting ready for your date with Kaia. Tonight was about having fun.

You drove home, the familiar sights of the city passing by without much thought. The conversation with Kaia lingered, but so did Paige’s smile and the way her eyes had met yours with that unspoken hint of something more. You shook it off and focused on the night ahead. Kaia was sweet, and you liked her. You were determined to be present for her.

At home, you tossed your bag on the couch and started going through your closet. You wanted to look good without overthinking it. Something casual, but still special. You settled on a fitted jersey, leather pants, and your black Amina Muaddi heels. Comfortable yet stylish. After a quick glance in the mirror, you felt good enough to head out.

Before leaving, you took a couple of mirror pics, capturing the outfit just right. You checked your phone, made sure you had everything, and grabbed your keys.

Your phone buzzed again—it was a message from Kaia: i’m already here, can’t wait to see you!

You smiled, the familiar excitement bubbling up. You shot her a quick reply: omw now, see you soon, pretty girl.

The drive to Latina Cantina was short, and you found a spot right in front. Walking in, the warm scent of spices and sizzling food hit you instantly. You spotted Kaia almost immediately—sitting at a corner booth, scrolling through her phone, her easy smile lighting up when she saw you.

"Hey, you made it!" she said as she stood up, giving you a friendly hug. "Glad we could finally catch up."

You smiled, the tension from earlier slipping away. "Yeah, me too. It's been too long."

Kaia looked great, dressed in a soft, oversized sweater in a pastel shade, paired with a sleek mini skirt and chunky white sneakers. She completed the look with a simple silver necklace. The outfit was relaxed yet chic, and she pulled it off effortlessly. "You look amazing," you said, sitting down across from her.

"Thanks," Kaia smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I figured I’d dress up a little, hope I didn’t overdo it."

"Not at all," you said, grinning.

The night went smoothly—good food, easy conversation, and laughter. Kaia was warm and attentive, and though there were moments when your mind briefly wandered back to the gym, you quickly refocused. You didn’t want to spoil the night.

As you finished up dinner, Kaia leaned across the table, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "So, what's been going on with you lately? You’ve been a little... distracted."

You hesitated, your thoughts drifting back to Paige, but before you could respond, Kaia smiled playfully. "I’m just glad we’re hanging out tonight, no distractions, right?"

You chuckled, grateful for her easy-going nature. "Yeah, no distractions tonight. Just us."

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. Kaia’s warmth and lightheartedness made it easy to be present. You talked about funny stories from work, what you both had been up to lately, and random bits of pop culture.

As the meal wound down, Kaia leaned back in her seat, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "So, what’s next on the agenda for you? I know you’ve got a lot going on."

You took a sip of your drink, considering. "Honestly? I just needed a night off. No work, no stress—just hanging out."

"Well, I’m glad you’re here," she said, her tone sincere. "We should do this more often."

You nodded, feeling a flicker of warmth. "Definitely. I’d like that."

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the noise of the restaurant buzzing around you. There was something about this moment, about Kaia’s easy presence, that felt... right. You smiled, grateful for her patience, for how effortlessly she seemed to make everything feel comfortable.

The waiter brought the check, and after a few moments of back and forth, you split the bill. You both stood up, and Kaia pulled on her jacket as you followed her out of the booth. Walking toward the door, Kaia brushed her shoulder against yours, a playful grin on her face. "Same time next week?" she teased.

"Sounds like a plan," you said, your voice a little lighter than when you first walked in.

Outside, the cool night air greeted you both as you walked to your cars. Kaia stopped, turning to face you. “I had a really great time tonight. Thank you for coming out.”

You smiled. "Of course. I had a great time too. See you soon?"

She nodded, taking a step back. "Definitely."

As you drove home, the warmth of the evening stayed with you—Kaia’s laugh, her playful teasing, and the easy flow of conversation. But beneath that warmth, the thought of Paige lingered. The way she had looked at you earlier, the invitation to meet at the bar—it all kept running through your mind. You wondered what it would have been like if you’d gone.

You pulled into your apartment's garage, parking your car and taking a moment to sit in the quiet of the space. The night had been a whirlwind of emotions, but you couldn’t shake the pull toward Paige.

You glanced at your phone, the text to Kaia letting her know you made it home safely, but still no message from Paige. You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the phone, lost in thought. Without second-guessing, you grabbed your keys, unlocked the door, and stepped out of the car.

You ordered an Uber almost instinctively. There was no hesitation—this felt like the right thing to do.

The Uber ride flew by, the hum of the city at night drowning out your thoughts. The anticipation grew as you neared the bar. When you arrived, the noise hit you immediately—laughter, the clink of glasses, the hum of conversation. You made your way toward the bar, scanning the room for the bartender.

As you were about to order, you felt a presence behind you. "Amaretto sour, right?" Paige said, her tone playful yet confident.

You turned, surprised but smiling. "Exactly."

She ordered for you, adding, “And I’ll take a Shirley Temple. Can’t have you drinking alone.” Her hand brushed against your lower back as she guided you toward the team’s table. The warmth of it sent a rush through you, and you followed her, completely at ease.

As you reached the table, her teammates greeted you. Paige pulled out a chair and sat next to you, her eyes glinting with amusement.

"Glad you made it," she said softly, leaning in closer.

You smiled and settled in beside her. The night felt lighter now, the tension you’d carried throughout the evening melting away.

“I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately,” you said, your voice quieter. “Been trying to figure some things out.”

Paige didn’t push further, but there was a knowing look in her eyes, like she understood. “It’s okay. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Sometimes you just have to let things play out, you know?”

You nodded, her words sinking in. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

The music in the background seemed to swell for a moment, and for a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Paige’s gaze softened, and she leaned in a little closer, her shoulder brushing yours. It wasn’t obvious, but the closeness carried an undeniable charge, as if there was something deeper at play than mere friendly conversation.

“You’re a good person,” she said, the sincerity in her voice catching you off guard. “I can tell you’ve got a lot going on, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you came tonight.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you found yourself smiling, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the way Paige made everything feel easier, but in that moment, you felt a little more at peace.

“Thanks, Paige. That means a lot,” you said, your voice quieter now, more real than it had been all night.

She smiled, her eyes meeting yours. “Anytime.”

The night stretched on, but something had shifted. Whatever was lingering between you and Paige, whatever unspoken thing had been hanging in the air, it was finally starting to feel a little clearer. And for the first time that night, you were ready to let yourself just... be.

The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, the laughter of the bar around you becoming a distant hum as you and Paige found yourselves slipping into a quieter, more secluded area. The sounds of clinking glasses and chatter faded, leaving only the space between the two of you, thick with unspoken words and tension.

Paige stood close now, closer than before. The small distance that had once felt comfortable had dwindled to almost nothing, and you could feel the heat radiating off her, her presence impossible to ignore. Her eyes locked onto yours, an unreadable expression playing across her face as if she was waiting for something—waiting for you, or perhaps waiting for the right moment to make the first move.

You could feel her body heat, the subtle shift of her posture, her breath just a little quicker than usual. You couldn’t remember when exactly the conversation had stopped, but now, words felt unnecessary. All that was left was the tension—the tension that had been building from the moment you walked into the bar and locked eyes. It was suffocating, thrilling, and you weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the attraction, but you couldn’t deny it anymore. The pull was undeniable.

Your hand brushed against hers in the dim light, a touch so fleeting but loaded with meaning. Her gaze dropped to where your fingers hovered for a moment, then back up to your eyes, an almost imperceptible flicker of something—desire, maybe—flickering in her expression.

The air between you grew heavier, the silence stretching, each second pulling you closer to a decision, to a shift in the unspoken tension. But before either of you could take that final step, Paige moved first. She leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, her touch gentle yet full of intention. It was a quiet moment that spoke louder than words ever could, the space between you both crackling with a charged energy that had been building all night. Her lips were warm against yours, hesitant at first, like she was testing the waters, but it only took a heartbeat for you to feel the pull between you deepen.

You didn’t hesitate. Your hand reached up instinctively to rest on her waist, drawing her closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more assured. Her lips parted slightly, just enough for your breaths to mingle, and you could feel her pulse quicken, her body pressing softly against yours. Everything around you seemed to fade—there was only the two of you, suspended in this moment where nothing else mattered but the way your lips moved together.

The world outside ceased to exist, the hum of the city and the dim glow of the streetlights blurring into the background. Her fingers found their way to your jaw, tracing along your skin with a featherlight touch, anchoring the both of you in this stolen moment. Each brush of her lips told a story—of longing, of unspoken feelings finally set free, of a connection too strong to deny.

The air between you seemed to hum with its own rhythm, matching the steady beat of your heart as you tilted your head slightly, deepening the kiss. Her breath hitched, and you could feel her relax into you, her body molding effortlessly against yours as though she’d always belonged there. The taste of her lingered, sweet and intoxicating, leaving you lightheaded yet desperate for more.

When the kiss broke, it wasn’t abrupt but gentle, like the tide pulling back from the shore. Her forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, the only sound was the soft cadence of your shared breathing. Her eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable, yet shimmering with something unspoken—something fragile but unmistakably real.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it too loudly would shatter the intimacy of the moment. Her confession hung in the air between you, a quiet truth that made your chest tighten in the best possible way.

[razorblade180]

A Quiet Home

Jaune:*walks in* Hey, I’m back.

Weiss:*writing*….

Jaune:I umm, got some food. Saph said she always makes too much so-

Weiss:You should’ve turned it down. Your nephew is a growing boy.

Jaune:She wouldn’t have offered if she couldn’t help. How’s rent looking?

Weiss:Despite my colossal fuck up on the mission, it’s covered.

Jaune:Hey, what’s important is-

Weiss:Jaune, don’t patronize me. I screwed up, got my leg hurt, got the client hurt, and lost the target. *puts pen down* Thankfully I found another high paying one. It’s a three weeks long and I’m-

Jaune:Actually…I put in a request to take that mission too. Client said he’ll think it over.

Weiss:*turns around* Excuse me? You’re taking my job line ups? You went in the last two missions. It’s my turn to-

Jaune:You need a break.

Weiss:Tsk, not this shit again. I just had a break!

Jaune:Crunching bill numbers is not a break. Weiss, your head isn’t in the game, and that’s fine. After all, your mom…

Weiss: “My mom” nothing we aren’t talking about this. There’s nothing to talk about. She lived drunk and died drunk. Predictable ending.

Jaune:Weiss-

Weiss:Give me space! And cancel your request while you’re at it. You’re in no condition to go on another assignment so quickly.

Jaune:…I’m not letting you go on that mission.

Weiss:Sorry, you’re not letting me? *stands up* I don’t remember needing your approval.

Jaune:That’s not what I-

Weiss:No it was, or else you wouldn’t have applied for the same mission despite our agreement. I made one mistake and now it goes out the window?

Jaune:You’re angry.

Weiss:Of FUCKING course I’m angry! I’m trying to keep these lights on and not burden others while you’re bringing in leftovers and stopping my job!

Jaune:You’re not doing your job! You’re running away from your problems!

Weiss:Oh you’re one to talk! The only reason why you’re here is because moving back in with your folks would be too much to handle.

Jaune:I moved in with you because you needed a roommate! My girlfriend was cutoff and alone and I could help! All I’ve been doing is trying to help!

Weiss:I didn’t ask for your help! I was handling things just fine!

Jaune:You were struggling.

Weiss:AND I’M NOT NOW!? Does it make you feel a little better to say you tried. Can’t help but I want to fix things huh?

Jaune:That’s not fair.

Weiss:Oh now we want to be fair? After intentionally making my job harder? For someone who is “trying to help” it never really works out for you now does it!? Not for me not for P-

She immediately covered her mouth, scared and shocked from the venom that almost slipped past her lips; this carelessness was given back with a stare of contempt that ate at her.

Weiss:I-

Jaune:There was a never a second I thought you were broken, or needed to be fixed. Guess that was my fault. Looks like your father did a number on you after all.

Her blood went cold. Weiss’s cheeks began to burn red as her anger boiled over.

Weiss:And yours never cared to do a swing to begin with.

Jaune:Speaking from experience?

Weiss:Get. Out.

Jaune:….

Weiss:I SAID GET OUT! I DON’T NEED THIS FROM YOU! I DON’T NEED YOU!

Jaune:…Good, cause you don’t have me. Sell my stuff for all I care.

He reaches in his pocket and throws his key at her. Weiss catches on reflex before hearing a thunderous boom as Jaune slams the door on the way out that shakes the room and cause a picture to shatter. The room is deathly silent as Weiss stares at the door.

Weiss:F-FINE! RUN BACK TO YOUR FAMILY!

………..

Not knowing what to do, Weiss simply grabbed her broom to clean up the mess Jaune made. Glass was half hazardly swept aside as she picked up a broken frame holding a photo of her laughing with Jaune, their face covered with cake from their house party with a banner overhead.

“A year of memories and miracles”

Weiss’s hand began to tremble until the picture slipped from her fingers. A giant pit filled her stomach and threatened to gag her as her knees fell to floor and her hands covered a ghastly wail. Finally, her breath was robbed and tears broke through shaking eyes filled with dread over the reality that was flooding in. The miracles were gone, and the memories, now bittersweet.

[croziers-compass]

Truly, the base thing is that the younger generations of humans do not treat engaging with other people as speaking to another human being. Going to sound like a boomer myself, but there is such a distinct lack of both respect and decency. In online spaces and social media, respect is not something that is rewarded or treated as a standard; and that standard is entirely gone. So many of the younger folks nowadays treat all of their engagements across the internet with a lack of respect, decency, and honouring of the other person and their presence in their communication. Their time is spent in an online environment where they are enticed with drama, conflict, and they entertain boredom with antagonism. They also are engaging with people that they will never have to really see or properly engage with and if they want they can guilt-free block and never see someone again. This has rewarded and encouraged poor social skills and an inability to properly make deep and understanding connections with potential employers or individuals that can help move their careers or interests forwards. And then they, without knowing any better, ask the questions of: "Why do I have to treat another human being like a human being?" because they are not rewarded for treating human beings like human beings and not just a source of online entertainment and media consumption to scratch an itch. And this isn't just about e-mails as well. The way social engagements online have developed is very poor. Etiquette isn't something that's meant to be posh or high-toned. It isn't meant to be a display of superiority. It's meant to show respect, decency, and to let someone know you actually care about the other person, what they have to say, and how they feel about something. It shows you are also receptive to what the other person has. Don't you want someone to make you feel like they care and are listening to you? So when you reach out to people online, how you choose to engage with someone will determine if they wish to engage with you further. If you want to make connections with other human beings, you may have to understand that it is not always going to revolve solely around yourself. And I absolutely understand that the current settings of the social expectations of social media environments have derailed any idea of conducting yourself with dignity and respect or treating other people with dignity and respect. But it's something that will negatively impact someone in the future if they fail to grasp the importance of treating other people with basic communicated respect. Especially in professional settings.

not to sound like a boomer, but I need some people to learn how to write emails in a semi-professional (at the very least) format so you're not cold emailing a business/potential employer/any other stranger about formal matters in the exact same way you'd DM a close friend on instagram

the formality/language can loosen up in the email chain once you've established a rapport and you match the other person if they're being less formal, but please don't have the very first email you send a stranger be written in all lowercase ultra-casual sms slang with no greeting or signature and a billion emojis

[writingwithfolklore]

How to Ask for Stuff

Being able and knowing how to ask for things that you want is an incredibly important skill for… y’know, getting what you want. Whether it’s mentorship, feedback, an explanation or quick advice, networking, a job, etc. etc. etc. it's important you ask the right way to have the best chance of success.

There’s three things that should be in your request:

1. Who are you—how are you related?

This should be short and sweet. “I am a university student studying major, and was in professor’s class where you presented last week.” Or “I am a recent graduate looking to get a foothold in blah blah industry, and saw you had a lot of experience on your linkedIn profile.”

You really don’t need more than that to make yourself relevant and create a connection with this person, and it immediately sets you apart as an individual/real person. People are more likely to help people that they feel like they know in some way, rather than a complete stranger. If you are a complete stranger, explain why you decided to reach out to them specifically.

2. What exactly are you looking for

Be as specific as possible. It is far better to say, “I am looking for feedback on the first five pages of my novel, specifically around if the opening grabs the audience.” Than, “I am looking for feedback.”

This part can be a little bit scary because it is the actual asking for what you want part, but if people know exactly what you want, they will find it a lot easier to help you. Other things you can ask for: “I am looking to sit down with you for coffee and discuss your experience in the industry.” Or “I was hoping you may have some leads for where to start with my job search” etc. etc.

3. What will the project/request look like?

This will help the person decide if they have the time or availability to do what you are asking for. If you’re looking to meet with them, include your availability and where or how you are able to meet. If it’s more of a feedback situation, include when you would need notes back by and how you would like to receive said notes. So,

“I am available Monday through Friday after 5pm to meet. Please let me know if you are interested and available within that schedule!”

“If you are interested, I would love the opportunity to get on a Zoom call with you to discuss feedback. I am available any time on weekends, and would prefer if you were able to get back to me by March 1st as I will need time to adjust the piece for the due date.”

Etc. etc.

              It’s important that you maintain a professional and friendly tone, even with people who have already agreed to help you. Some ways of asking for things that I have received that I find very discouraging are:

Disinterested

I got a request that was basically, “help me if you want, I don’t care it doesn’t matter to me either way.” If you don’t care, then why would I care? Only reach out to people you genuinely want to collaborate in some way with, and make clear that you are interested in working with them. We’re not trying to look cool and disinterested here.

Impatient

Everyone is busy all the time. If your person doesn’t reply right away, do not send a message back around the lines of, “um hello??” or “are you going to reply or not?” this comes across as pretty rude and a bit entitled to that person’s time and immediate attention. If your person doesn’t reply, you can send a follow up after a week, and maintain the same tone as in your initial email/message:

“Hi (name), this is a friendly follow-up on my request. If you have any additional questions for me, please let me know. I am also able to accommodate another time slot if needed. Thank you!”

As the asker, it is your job to be flexible. Of course, if your person can’t make your hard deadline or you really can’t make your schedules work, thank them anyway and move on, but if you are able to accommodate them, do so!

Here is an example email to start you off:

Hello (person’s name), My name is (blank) and I am a (major) student/graduate from (blank) University. We met at the (place) job fair last week, and I was really intrigued by your experience in (blah) industry. I was wondering if you would be available to meet with me sometime in the next week to discuss how you got started in the industry and your experience at (company). I am available between (time) and (time) (days of the week), but may be able to accommodate a different time if it would work better for you. Please let me know if you are interested! Thank you, (Full name)

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @kurtswld

"Human nature is something fickle," The words left Chrollo’s mouth, and they weren't pretty and charming as he always presented them. He was far too pissed off to care how he was presenting himself to you. Right here and now, he wasn't a gentleman, a well-mannered man who liked to read and discuss.

Looking at him now, he was the Phantom Troupe's leader. A killer and a monster. Your heart was beating louder at each step he took in your direction. It was a dangerous symphony, a requiem you weren't fond of. Yet, he seemed amused, fond of it, even.

"They lie, betray and kill," He kneeled in front of you, and while you tried to put distance between both of you, trying to crawl away, Chrollo pulled you back to him by your neck, his nails digging into your soft skin, making you whimper. 'You did all three of them in the span of two hours, darling. You lied to me,"

He chuckled. You weren't sure what he thought that was funny. You didn't want to know, you were far too afraid to move or talk to even think about what would he consider fun. Chrollo is a strange man, always were, always will be.

No... not man.

He was something else. Him and his little family. All murderers, all bad people.

He caressed your face in a tender way. The same way he used to when he first fell for you; the tears started to fall from your eyes at that. Whether it was because you really thought you could have escaped him or because you didn't want to know what he was going to do to you now.

"You betrayed my trust in you," He muttered, nuzzling his face against your neck, his hand still holding it, depriving you of breathing as he exhaled. "You betrayed my troupe's trust. And trust is something important for us. We have our backs, we're family, and when you lied to me, you lied to them."

"I didn't kill anyone..." You struggled to say, your last defiance slowly disappearing as you held onto his hand, trying to escape his grip, but it was impossible. "I'm... not like you."

Chrollo’s grip tightened slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he let out a low chuckle. "Oh, my dear," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "Not like me? Perhaps you think you're better, untainted. But isn’t it fascinating how far desperation can push someone? How quickly survival overrides morality?"

You flinched, the weight of his words pressing down on you like an iron cage. He pulled back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face, his thumb stroking your jaw in a mockery of comfort. "You may not have killed anyone," he continued, "but your actions led to consequences. If you understand what I'm saying."

You shook your head weakly, choking on your own breath. "I didn’t mean for this to happen," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"But it did," Chrollo said sharply, his tone cutting through you like a blade. "And now, here we are. You thought you could run, thought you could escape me. Did you really believe I’d let you go so easily?"

His hand slid from your neck to your chin, tilting your face up so you couldn’t avoid his piercing gaze. "You’re mine," he said firmly, like a promise and a threat, his dark eyes gleaming with a possessive intensity that made your stomach churn. "You’ve always been mine, and no amount of running or lying will change that."

The air between you was suffocating, and despite your trembling, you mustered the courage to whisper, "What are you going to do to me?"

Chrollo smiled then, soft and almost kind, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His mask was back on his face. "What I’m going to do, my darling, is ensure you never feel the need to run from me again."

He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead as though to seal his promise. "I’ll remind you of your place, remind you of the bond we share. And by the time I’m done, you won’t dream of leaving me again. You’ll know where you belong."

The cold finality in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. As he pulled you into his arms, cradling you like a precious possession, you realized there was no escaping Chrollo Lucilfer — not now, not ever.

[borderlinereminders]

Sometimes, we don’t have the option to get support. Whatever this reason, sometimes we have no choice but to manage our emotions on our own and that can be so scary. But it isn’t hopeless. I also try to manage my emotions on my own before reaching out for support. I reach out for support if needed, but trying to handle it myself first is important to me for a lot of reasons.

If you’re having to deal with some big emotions on your own, or a spiral. That’s okay. You can do this.

Usually when I’m struggling with feelings, the first thing I begin struggling with is having harmful urges. Sometimes these urges are to lash out, hurt myself, self sabotage or any number of things. The first thing I do is focus on my Urge Surfing skill. Here’s a link to my post on that. But if you’re not up to it just now, it’s basically a skill that helps you “ride the wave” of an urge until it passes.

If I’m in a panicked or otherwise heightened state that requires me calming down, I’ll likely focus on grounding techniques. These are things I can do that will help ground me so I can think more clearly.

What I do next depends on what the circumstances are. If I’m spiralling but I know it’s temporary and will likely pass on its own (this does happen to me! Sometimes a spiral is just me being overly tired or over stimulated and I sleep it off) then I focus on skills that involve distracting myself. This might mean using a skill like ACCEPTS. The goal for me is to focus on something else so I don’t continue to spiral or cave to the things I want to do because of the spiral.

Sometimes the circumstances are something I work on. If I’m really upset because I’m feeling insecure about a loved one, I might challenge my irrational thinking. Here is my post on challenging irrational thoughts. I might look at screenshots or reminders that they love me. Maybe I’m being really negative about myself, in which case I would also challenge my irrational thoughts. When it comes to this sort of thing, I also Check the Facts. While feelings are valid, sometimes it’s our interpretation of something that is making things worse and we can work on that.

One of the things I usually end up working on is Radical Acceptance. This is when we accept our feelings, even the negative ones without shutting them down. While sometimes we need to shut them down temporarily to get through a circumstance like work or something else, trying to just shove them down all the time is unlikely to work and often leads to a blow up.

It’s okay if some of my skills don’t work for you. My basic concept is that I figure out whether I need to distract myself, or try and sort through the feeling. There are a lot of skills or techniques that can be substituted. There are just the ones that work for me. You aren’t a failure if they aren’t for you. We’re all different! Here’s my post on DBT skills!

I will say that one of the most important things that helps me the most is the steps I take to be prepared for an emotional crisis. Here is my post on that. Being prepared in advance makes it a lot easier when the crisis happens.

Whatever the case, you can get through this. A lack of emotional permanence can make things hard. And when it’s hard, sometimes it feels like that’s all there is. Nothing exists outside of the bad feelings. But there is so much more. And this will pass. It always does. These feelings are temporary visitors and they won’t stay forever.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, funeral setting

Y/n’s POV

The soft chime of the bell above the bridal studio’s door signals the end of my shift. I tidy up the counter, brush a few stray threads from my clothes, and grab my bag. It’s been a long day of fittings and consultations, but my excitement about tonight keeps me energized.

Chris is meeting my parents tonight. The thought alone sends a nervous flutter through my stomach, but it’s a good kind of nervous.

On my way out, I stop by the cafe down the street to grab two lattes and a croissant for Willow. It’s become something of a tradition to visit her after my shifts, especially when I need a pep talk. With everything going on tonight, I need her calming advice more than ever.

Willow’s apartment is buzzing with energy when I arrive. She’s blasting music in the kitchen while unpacking groceries, a pair of fluffy slippers on her feet.

“You’re a lifesaver” she says, grabbing the coffee from my hand and taking a sip. “Ugh, perfect. Come in, sit!”

I settle onto her couch, pulling the croissant out of the bag and sliding it across the table to her. “Figured you could use this.”

“You know me too well” she says with a grin, taking a bite.

As she eats, I fill her in on the news. “So.. my parents are meeting my boyfriend tonight.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “BOYFRIEND?!”

I nod, though the flutter of nerves in my chest betrays me. “Yeah, it feels right. I mean, he’s really trying, you know? So he’s coming over for dinner.”

Willow leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studies me. “How’s he doing after today, though? With the funeral and all?”

I freeze mid sip of my coffee. “Funeral?”

Her expression shifts, suddenly cautious. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

I shake my head, my mind racing. Why didn’t he mention this? Now I feel stupid.

“Yeah” Willow continues, her voice softer now. “I heard it was today, Chris must’ve been there.”

I nod slowly, unsure how to process this new information. A funeral. A funeral. And he hadn’t said a word to me about it.

Part of me feels hurt, like I’ve been left out of something important. But the other part of me, the rational part, knows why he didn’t tell me. He’s trying to protect me, to keep me away from the darker parts of his world.

Still, it stings.

Willow must notice the shift in my expression because she reaches over and places a hand on my arm. “Hey, don’t overthink it. Chris probably didn’t want to stress you out with everything going on. He’s dealing with a lot.”

“I know” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “It’s just.. I want him to feel like he can tell me these things, you know?”

Willow nods, her eyes sympathetic. “You’re in a tricky spot, Y/n. But he’ll come around. Just give it time.”

I glance at my phone and realize how late it’s gotten. “Shit, I need to get going. I have a million things to prep before dinner.”

Willow grins, her mood lifting again. “Go knock em dead. And text me after, I need all the details.”

“You’ll be the first to know” I promise, grabbing my bag and heading for the door.

As I start the journey home, my mind is buzzing with thoughts. Chris and I have come so far, but there’s still so much I don’t know about his life. Maybe tonight will be a step toward bridging that gap.

When I get to my house, I take a deep breath. Time to focus. Tonight isn’t just about meeting my parents, it’s about taking the next step, together.

Chris’ POV

The air outside the church was heavy, the kind of suffocating weight that sticks with you after saying goodbye to someone you cared about. Nate and I stood in silence as the crowd dispersed, the murmurs of the attempted hit at the funeral still fresh in my mind.

“You hear that shit?” Nate finally spoke, his voice low but brimming with anger. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

I nodded, keeping my gaze on the ground. “Yeah, I heard. It’s messed up, man. Who does that at a funeral?”

“It’s more than messed up” Nate snapped, turning toward me. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, but now they burned with rage. “It’s a straight up declaration of war. At Danny’s funeral, Chris. Do you understand what that means?”

I did, and it made my stomach churn. Whoever tried to pull this off wasn’t just sending a message they were escalating things in the dirtiest way possible. It wasn’t just about Crimson and H-Block anymore, it was personal.

“What do you wanna do?” I asked carefully, knowing full well Nate was on the verge of boiling over.

“What do I wanna do?” he repeated, his voice rising. “I wanna find out who did it and make them pay. No one disrespects my cousin like that.”

I grabbed his shoulder before he could start pacing. “Nate, you gotta keep it together. If Vince catches wind of this before you calm down, he’ll drag you into something you might not come back from.”

“And you think I’m just supposed to sit here and do nothing?” he shot back.

I didn’t have an answer for that. Nate was right to be angry, and it wasn’t like I didn’t feel the same way. But going off the rails wouldn’t bring Danny back, and it definitely wouldn’t stop whatever was coming next.

I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions. On one hand, Nate needed me. He was barely holding it together, and leaving him alone after what just happened felt like a betrayal. On the other hand, I’d made a promise to Y/n. Meeting her parents tonight was a big deal, and I couldn’t just bail.

“You’re not alone in this” I said after a moment. “But we gotta be smart about it. If we make a move now, it’ll only give Vince more of a reason to lose it. Let’s figure out who’s behind it first, then we’ll decide what to do.”

Nate stared at me, his expression a mix of fury and frustration. For a second, I thought he was going to argue, but then he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if I find out who it was before you do, I’m handling it my way.”

I nodded, even though his words made my chest tighten. There was no stopping Nate once he set his mind on something.

“Listen, I’ll check in later tonight, okay?” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Why? You got plans or something?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I promised Y/n I’d meet her parents tonight. Dinner in hers.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. “You’re ditching me for dinner? After everything that just happened?”

“It’s not like that” I said quickly. “This is important, too. I have to show her I’m serious about us. You know that.”

He scoffed, turning away from me. “Whatever, man. Go play house. I’ll deal with this on my own.”

“Nate-”

“Just go, Chris. You’ve got your priorities.”

The words hit harder than I expected. I wanted to stay, to make sure he didn’t do something reckless, but I couldn’t let Y/n down. Not tonight.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “I’ll be back after dinner. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

He didn’t respond, just waved me off as he walked toward his car.

As I headed to my own car, the weight of everything pressed down on me. Nate was right, this wasn’t just about me anymore. If Vince found out about the attempted hit, there’d be hell to pay. And if Y/n’s family got even a hint of the world I was wrapped up in, things could fall apart before they even began.

Tonight wasn’t just a dinner, it was a balancing act. And one wrong step could send everything crashing down.

Y/n’s POV

The smell of garlic and rosemary filled the kitchen as I put the finishing touches on the roast chicken. Cooking wasn’t something I did often, but tonight felt special enough to make the effort. Mom had already filled Dad in on the whole boyfriend meeting the family situation, which saved me from the nerves of breaking the news myself. He didn’t say much when she told him, just gave a nod and asked what time dinner would be ready. Typical Dad.

At 6:15, I sent Chris a quick text:

“Hey, let me know when you’re on the way :)”

I set my phone on the counter and busied myself slicing vegetables for the side dish, trying not to obsess over every little detail. The table was already set, candles in the middle, the good silverware out, and plates that matched that's how much I wanted this to go smoothly.

By the time the clock read 6:30, my phone buzzed.

“On my way.”

I smiled, though a part of me couldn’t help but feel conflicted. My mind drifted back to what Willow had mentioned earlier about the funeral. Chris hadn’t told me about it. He was probably trying to protect me, but it stung a little, knowing he’d gone through such a heavy day without letting me in on it.

I couldn’t shake the guilt, either. Taking him away from Nate on a day like this felt wrong. It hit me then just how serious Chris must be about me. He was choosing to be here, despite everything else going on in his life. That realization made my chest tighten in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

Another buzz pulled me from my thoughts.

“Here.”

I grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe my hands and headed for the front door, my heart thumping a little harder with each step. I took a deep breath, opened it, and there he was, standing on the porch in a black button up shirt and dark jeans, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips.

The sight of him took my breath away for a moment. He looked good, better than good, but his eyes were tired, a heaviness lingering behind them that I knew came from the day he’d had. But I don’t think this is the right time to say anything.

“Hi” I said, my voice catching slightly. I cleared my throat and stepped aside to let him in.

“These are for you.” he said, holding out the flowers.

They were simple, red roses. But something about the gesture made my heart flutter.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you” I said, taking them and stepping aside so he could come in.

“Smells amazing in here” he said as he walked into the hallway.

“I decided I’d cook tonight. Felt like the right occasion” I said, trying to sound casual as I led him toward the dining room.

Chris nodded, glancing around the house. “It’s nice. Feels.. homey.”

“It is..” I trailed off, before I started rambling. “Anyway, my parents are in the living room. Ready to meet them?”

He hesitated for half a second, but then he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

I led him into the living room, where my parents were seated on the couch. Mom stood first, her warm smile instantly breaking the ice.

“You must be Chris” she said, stepping forward to shake his hand.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you” Chris said, his voice steady but polite.

Dad stood next, giving Chris a firm handshake and a nod. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, I caught a brief flicker of nervousness in Chris’s eyes. He was doing his best, but I could tell this wasn’t easy for him.

“Dinner’s ready” I announced, hoping to move things along. “Let’s eat.”

As we all headed to the table, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Chris. He’d shown up for me today, even with everything he had going on. And as conflicted as I felt about some of it, one thing was clear, he was trying. For me.

Chris’ POV

By the time I pulled up outside Y/n’s house, my nerves were shot. It wasn’t just the day weighing on me, Danny’s funeral, the whispers, Nate’s rage, but the thought of sitting across from her parents, trying to fit into their polished world, made my stomach churn. I glanced at the flowers in the passenger seat, hoping they’d help me make a good first impression.

The house was cozy but big, sitting on a quiet street that screamed stability and comfort, two things I wasn’t exactly overflowing with. I stepped out of the car, straightened my shirt, and grabbed the flowers, making my way to the door.

Y/n opened the front door, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw me. She looked.. incredible, dressed casually but effortlessly perfect.

“Hey” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I held out the bouquet. “These are for you.”

Her smile widened, and she took the flowers, her fingers brushing mine for a second. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

I stepped inside, instantly hit by the smell of something amazing coming from the kitchen. “Smells incredible in here,” I said, trying to focus on anything other than how my pulse seemed to quicken every time I looked at her.

“I cooked tonight,” she said, leading me toward the dining room. “Figured it was a special occasion.”

“It definitely is,” I said, managing a small smile.

The living room was warm and inviting, her parents sitting on the couch as we walked in. Y/n introduced us, and I reached out to shake her mom’s hand first.

“You must be Chris,” her mom said, her smile kind but curious.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” I replied, feeling a little more at ease.

Her dad stood next, his handshake firm, his eyes sharper. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir” I said, keeping my tone polite but not too stiff.

After a few minutes of pleasantries, Y/n led us all to the kitchen. The table was set perfectly, and the meal she’d made looked like something straight out of a cookbook. I sat down, feeling a little out of place at the polished table but determined not to show it.

The small talk started as we dug into the food. Her parents asked me the usual questions, where I grew up, what I liked to do, and I tried to answer as smoothly as I could. But the longer we talked, the more I couldn’t help but notice how put together they were. Everything about them, from the way they spoke to the way they carried themselves, screamed stability.

Meanwhile, I felt like a mess, a guy with a patchy past, walking on thin ice between two worlds.

“So” her dad said, setting his fork down and leaning forward slightly. “How did you two meet?”

I glanced at Y/n, and she smiled, stepping in to help me out.

“We met through mutual friends when we were fifteen” she explained. “We hung out a lot that summer, but then we just.. drifted apart.”

“Life happens” her mom said with a nod.

“Exactly” Y/n agreed, her gaze flicking to me as if to say you’re doing great.

And then her dad hit me with it – the question I’d been dreading all night.

“So, Chris” he said, his tone casual but pointed. “What do you do for work?”

For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I set my glass down carefully, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“I, uh..” I started searching for the right words, the ones that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete disaster.

But what could I say? The truth wasn’t exactly an option, not here. My mind raced, and I glanced at Y/n, hoping for a lifeline.

“Freelance” Y/n said, cutting in before I could respond.

The words hung in the air, and I felt my chest tighten. Ground, swallow me up. It was a good save, sure, but it also stung a little. She knew that was my go to line when I didn’t want to get into details about what I actually do.

“Oh?” Her mom’s eyes lit up with interest, leaning forward slightly. “What kind?”

“Social media marketing” Y/n answered quickly, a polite smile on her lips.

Social media marketing? Jesus Christ. From the man with zero social media presence? I could barely keep my Instagram alive, let alone manage someone else’s.

“That’s fascinating” her mom continued. “I’ve heard it’s a really lucrative field these days.”

“Yeah” I said, clearing my throat and forcing a nod. “It’s definitely.. something.”

I glanced at Y/n, who gave me a subtle look that said just go with it. I appreciated the save, but I couldn’t help feeling like a fish out of water.

Her dad, however, seemed less convinced. He raised an eyebrow, clearly about to ask a follow-up question. “Do you work with specific clients or more general campaigns?”

Before I could stammer out an answer, Y/n swooped in again. “He works on a project basis” she said smoothly. “It’s more flexible that way.”

Her mom smiled, nodding in approval. “That sounds perfect for someone your age. Flexible, creative, it must keep you busy!”

“Oh, yeah. Busy,” I said, forcing a chuckle and taking a long sip of water to hide the fact that I was absolutely dying inside.

The conversation shifted to something else, thank fuck, but I could barely focus. I felt like an imposter sitting at this pristine table, in this perfect house, with these perfect people. Y/n’s parents seemed like the kind of couple who’d had their lives mapped out from day one. Stable careers, a beautiful home, kids who followed the plan.

And then there was me. Barely holding it together, juggling one lie after another just to keep my head above water.

Y/n’s hand brushed against mine under the table, pulling me out of my thoughts. She gave me a small, reassuring squeeze, as if to say it’s okay.

I squeezed back, grateful for her in that moment. Even if I didn’t feel like I belonged here, she was my anchor. I just had to make it through tonight without screwing it all up.

Suddenly, I felt a buzz in my pocket. Crap. My phone.

Y/n clearly felt it too, her hand slipped off my leg, her warmth replaced by a flicker of tension.

It buzzed again. And again.

Each vibration felt louder than the last, rattling through me like an alarm. God, I should’ve just turned it off.

Y/n’s dad looked up from his glass of wine, raising an eyebrow. Her mom followed his gaze, giving me a polite, curious smile. “Popular tonight, aren’t you?” she joked.

“Sorry about that” I muttered, trying to play it off as casually as I could. “It’s nothing important.”

But it kept buzzing. Over and over.

I glanced at Y/n, and her expression had shifted ever so slightly. Not enough for her parents to notice, but enough for me to catch the flicker of suspicion in her eyes.

“Maybe you should check it” Y/n’s dad said, his tone friendly but firm, the kind of tone that wasn’t really a suggestion.

Y/n was already shaking her head, smiling to defuse the situation. “He doesn’t have to, Dad. It’s probably just work stuff.”

“Yeah, work.. It’s nothing urgent. I’ll deal with it later.”

Except the buzzing stopped… only to start up again a second later.

Damn it, whoever it is calling me.

Her dad leaned back in his chair, clearly skeptical. “Must be a busy night in social media marketing” he quipped.

Y/n shot me a look. A small, apologetic one, but it was enough to say you’re making this worse.

I forced a laugh. “You’d be surprised. Campaigns don’t stop, even for dinner.”

“Mm” her dad hummed, still unconvinced.

The buzzing finally stopped, and I let out a silent breath of relief. But the damage was done. I could feel the tension hanging in the air, subtle but heavy.

Y/n’s mom, ever the optimist, changed the subject, steering the conversation back toward lighter topics. But I caught Y/n’s glance again, and this time, it was harder to read.

What was she thinking? Was she mad? Annoyed? Or just worried?

I shifted in my seat, the guilt already clawing at me. The funeral, the whispers of a hit, Nate’s grief, all of it had been piling up in the back of my mind, and now it was bleeding into this moment, ruining the one chance I had to prove to her parents that I could be someone normal. Someone stable.

But normal and stable didn’t come with constant buzzing phones, or lies about jobs, or friends who might not survive the night.

As the conversation went on, I did my best to focus, to smile, to play along. But inside, all I could think about was the messages and calls I knew were waiting for me. And how, once again, the life I was trying so hard to build with Y/n was colliding with the one I couldn’t escape.

As we finished up dessert, I followed Y/n into the kitchen, insisting on helping her with the dishes. Her mom and dad moved to the living room, their voices carrying faintly as they settled into a more relaxed conversation.

I rinsed a plate under the warm stream of water, my mind replaying the awkward moment earlier at the table. “I’m sorry about that job thing” I said, keeping my voice low. “I didn’t mean to put you in that spot. It must’ve been awkward for you.”

Y/n glanced at me, her soft smile instantly putting me at ease. “It’s fine, Chris. Really. They like you, I can tell. Don’t overthink it.”

“I just.. I worry, you know?” I admitted, setting the plate in the drying rack. “They’re so put together, so sure of everything. And I’m just..” I trailed off, shrugging.

She dried her hands and reached out, her touch light against my arm. “You’re you.” she said simply. “And that’s more than enough for me. Trust me, they see that too.”

Her words settled something in me. I leaned down and kissed her gently, feeling the warmth of her reassurance seep into me. But just as the moment softened, I felt it again, the buzz in my pocket.

I pulled back slightly, my stomach knotting as I hoped she hadn’t noticed.

“I think I might need to use the bathroom” I said quickly, my voice steady even as my heart raced.

Y/n didn’t seem suspicious, just gesturing toward the stairs. “There’s one right under there” she said.

I nodded, giving her a small smile before making my way out of the kitchen. My steps felt heavier with every buzz I’d felt on my phone.

Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and leaned against it, pulling out my phone with shaky hands. The screen was lit up with a mess of notifications, missed calls, unread messages, demands.

Nate:

"Where are you, man?" (47m ago) "We found out who tried to make a hit earlier on. Going to fuck him up." (43m ago)

Vince:"Need you to cover a run. Meet at Dock." (33m ago) "Big hits tonight. Need you now." (29m ago) "?" (22m ago) "You have 30 mins to get here." (3m ago)

Thirty minutes. I had thirty minutes to figure out how the hell to get to the docks without tearing everything apart.

I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge like it might steady me. My chest felt tight, and my mind raced. They didn’t just "ask" for things, especially not Vince. They demanded. And missing a demand didn’t come without consequences.

But this wasn’t just about me. If I bailed tonight, it wouldn’t just be me in trouble. Nate could be left dealing with the fallout alone.

I stared at the mirror. My reflection was a mess of worry and panic. I ran my hands through my hair, took a deep breath, and tried to figure out my next move.

I slipped back out of the bathroom, tucking my phone deep into my pocket like I could bury the problem there. Making my way into the kitchen, I found Y/n putting away plates. She looked so at ease, so normal. I hated how I was about to ruin that.

“Hey” I started, my voice low, “I’m not feeling great. I think I need to head home and sleep this off.”

She turned to me, frowning slightly. “Are you okay? You didn’t seem off earlier.”

“Yeah, it just hit me” I lied, forcing a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to cut the night short.”

I could see the disappointment in her eyes, but she covered it quickly with a soft smile. “It’s okay” she said. “Dad’s already passed out in a food coma, so I doubt he’ll even notice.” She paused, searching my face. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.”

She reached out, brushing her hand against my arm. “Alright. Go home and feel better, okay?”

I leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, lingering just a moment longer than I should’ve. Part of me didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I had no choice.

I slipped into the living room to say goodbye to her mom, who was already halfway through a glass of wine. “Thanks for having me, Mrs. Y/l/n” I said, keeping my tone as polite as I could manage.

“Of course, Chris. See you soon!” she replied with a warm smile.

I walked out of the house, the cool night air hitting me like a slap. My chest felt heavy, but my feet moved fast. I wasn’t ready for this, none of it. Not Nate’s vengeance. Not Vince’s demands. Not the lies I was weaving into my time with Y/n.

As I got into my car, I stared at my phone again. Thirty minutes. Less, now.

I didn’t even start the engine before slamming my fist against the steering wheel.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I muttered to myself.

I had no answer. Only more questions, and no time to figure them out.

With a deep breath, I started the car and pulled onto the road. I wasn’t ready, but readiness didn’t matter anymore. It never did in this life.

a/n: its become more and more obvious to me that im shadow banned so i appreciate everyones interactions 🥲🥲

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside

[thewalrusespublicist]

is it true that john in the 70s would listen to pauls records and comment you’re here or there you are or something along those lines? if so, i just don’t understand it, like what does he mean by that. also, couldn’t he just call him?

(Quick note: the first bit of this is really similar to what was discussed in the first episode of @anotherkindofmindpod's Strange Bedfellows series. I think what I say is enough to constitute a slightly different perspective but as it's borderline I've linked the episode here. It's a great series so recommend people check it out regardless.)

Hi anon! Yes, it's true, the source for it is actually Paul:

PAUL: ... after [John] died, the thing that helped me the most, really, was talking to Yoko about it. She volunteered the information that he had . . . really liked me. She said that once or twice, they had sat down to listen to my records and he had said, "There you are." So an awful lot went on in the privacy of their own place. So, yes, it was very important.

--Paul McCartney, 1984 Playboy Interview

So it's true but ... like you said, what does he mean by that? I think there are two options. Option one is a ''Well Yoko, there you are, he's brilliant you can't deny it'' kind of ''there you are'' which is sweet in itself. The other, more insane option is him tenderly stroking the record player like ''there you are, we've grown so apart that sometimes I feel like I can't recognise you anymore but there you are, here is the person I love, right here where I thought you would be, right here in the music.'' It's a shame we don't have a audio or video (actually do we? Someone correct me if I'm wrong) because tone would be a BIG help here. The crazy thing is from the other stories we have of this account from Yoko via Paul, John is crying and saying he loves him really so it seems like the second option is the more likely one which goooooood god.

As for why he can't just call him? Ugh, great question! If the real life/stepping out demo is about Paul, even John himself is telling himself to just call him on the phone. We know that in some cases, John does call him and does reach out. So why not more if he's crying over records about his undying love for the man? Well, I've discussed it in greater detail elsewhere but John's feelings for Paul were complex and distorted by hurt and mental illness. Sure in these moments he was filled with his overwhelming love for Paul but in the very next moment he could be back to boiling 'hatred' or jealousy or anger. It's also hard to call someone when you have so many feelings of hurt and rejection that could slip out (and have in the past causing screaming arguments down the phone). You would have to be really brave and open and willing to be vulnerable to do that which is a lot to ask. This is especially a lot for John who did not call people by his own admission out of insecurity.

So to sum up everything, it is true and John didnt call because emotions are hard, relationships are hard and mental illness is REALLY hard.

[blissfullyecho]

My 2025 Skinny Routine

1. I’m cutting back on added sugar. My ultimate goal is to keep my added sugar below 20g or 30g weekly (I have a huge sweet tooth and can easily have this in a day). Added sugar is only found in processed foods and it makes you fat and age. But I’m not giving up on sweets entirely so I’ll limit my budget to 20-30g weekly.

2. Intermittent fasting at least 16:8 daily. Fasting is such a good way for your blood sugar to regulate, your gut to actually run smoothly, burns through carbs and sugars first to then burn fat (energy), etc.

3. Skinny dinners— no carbs at night unless it was on occasion. Carbs are important to give us fuel and energy. I don’t need energy and fuel before bed in a couple of hours.

4. I’m ditching dairy and having it on special occasions like if I ate out. But I won’t have dairy or anything containing dairy in my kitchen this year. I’ll enjoy it when I’m eating out.

5. Fasted cardio. So I live in LA and since moving here, I fell in love with hiking. My job allows me to work remote so I can go on a few hikes per week in the morning. Running is also one of my favs but I would like to be outside more this year.

6. Reformer pilates. I currently go to Pilates a solid 3x a week but I’m going to increase that to 4x a week. I spend almost $800 a month for my current membership (I have unlimited mat and reformer pilates) and would actually like to take advantage of what I’m paying for.

7. I’m going to start eating breakfasts again. I’ve noticed that when I don’t have breakfast, I make crazy decisions for lunch and dinner. I intermittent fast currently from 12p-6p but I’m thinking about changing it to 9a-3p.

8. You guys are going to gag but I spend almost $2k a month in food delivery. This includes tipping, and yes, I always tip and I tip 25% because I found out Uber only pays the drivers $2 per trip and drivers have to pay for their own gas. So yes, I’m tipping and I’m not going to cut down on tipping. But I am going to cut down on the amount of times I get food delivery because I get so bloated everytime I eat out. LA has really good healthy options but I still feel nauseous after I eat out vs. when I eat from home.

9. I’m going to start reaching for fruit way more than sweets. My problem is that I will buy a bunch of produce because it’s convenient for me when I’m feeling lazy, and then it sits in my fridge getting moldy because I want Tiramisu instead. I’m going to have to train myself to grab for fruit and let the tiramisu be a weekly treat and not a daily 9pm Uber Eats delivery (although I have been good because it’s holiday season and I cut back on the junk this time of year)

10. Scale back on the red meat. I have been eating steak almost every day and I am so lethargic afterwards. I’ve never really been a crazy meat eater but lately I’ve been eating filet or wagyu daily. I even had bacon wrapped scallops last night and I hate bacon. Like I said in my last skinny post, I eat a ton of protein around this time of year but the red meat is not making me feel too hot.

This is obviously subject to change but this is what I’ve been feeling lately. I don’t care for any messages that tell me this is triggering. What this is is healthy. Having 10 burgers a week because you’re “listening to your body” is not healthy and that’s not self-love or balance. That’s 10 freaking cheeseburgers lol.

Anyway, my book The Luxe Girl’s Playbook to Life that talks about going into 2025 an upgraded version of yourself will be unavailable in 2 days from this post (11/28/24). Get yourself yours today or miss out.

[icarus-lee]

so you really love me?

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･his endearing soft side, his innerchild °❀

charac. michael kaiser x gn! reader

author’s notes: i tried mirroring his backstory and to what i think he really is behind closed doors w sum1 he rlly loves. Please enjoy!

Michael Kaiser was better off a criminal.

He steals, that's his thing. Probably the only thing he's ever known to do.

He asked you once, "Is there still salvation in the future?" Of course Kaiser never hoped for anything in his past anymore.

Yet that question rings back to you as you see him on the big screen. 75 minutes into the match and you see him turn a desperate glance towards somewhere beyond the field. He was having an evident crisis, a mental struggle that was only known to him; and you. Perhaps it was his whole world crumbling right before your eyes and no one knew it was a crucial moment for him.

You could see the way he’d even plead his teammate Raichi for a pass. “Please” was never a word for your emperor. And that very same emperor that you were seeing right now, was stripping every bit of wealth that he’s desperately protected over the years. It takes you back to when he was only a nobody, not a somebody.

Power was important for Kaiser, truthfully that was his only way to feel human, to assure himself that he won’t go back there anymore. Yet Michael was only a kid, wearing a crown and robe just to earn what every child like him deserved, love. But now, earning love is not that simple right? For there were thorns that accompanied this talented striker. Coincidentally, you had a thing for treasure that surely bites.

“The name Michael means a gift from God. You’re a gift, Micha.” Slowly but reassuringly, you trace the delicate lines of his rose tattoo as he lays there with you, on the soft mattress of his king-sized bed

Michael hums, and shakes his head. He gains a grasp of your hand and plants it to his head, rubbing himself with your touch. You chuckle as he lets out a low groan.

“Watch that beautiful mouth; I might just kiss it.” You heard his harmless threat as he buried his head onto his pillow, your lap. His body wasn’t used to the soft envelopment of a mattress. To him, it was only cardboard before.

You chuckle, “You always do, everyday. Who knew Michael Kaiser wasn’t a grumpy cat to his Liebling? Instead he becomes a melting mess who’s touchy when no one’s looking?”

He abruptly gets up from his comfy little spot (aka your body) and looks at you with a gaze that tells you to keep talking. His gaze tells you that he longs for moments like these to last, for these seconds not to easily pass. Because somewhere in those sapphire eyes, remains an inner child whose soul has been wounded by the burdens of his past.

“You’re gonna have coffee with me right, Liebling? In the morning? ” He simply asked, as he reached for the back of his head, his hair messy as it always was.

It baffled you for a second as to why he would ask that. Yet it suddenly hit you; he didn’t want you to leave by the morning, let alone wake up without you in his arms with not even a simple goodbye. That’s just how he is, considering that right now, he wasn’t Kaiser. He was Michael.

“Who said I wouldn’t? I’ll always will.”

He scoffs, “You’re hard to read Y/N, as always.”

You show him a helpless pout that he can't help but smirk about as you lean closer to his face. “And what does that mean, Micha? ”

“When I expect stones, you give me feathers. When I expect thorns from roses, you give me flowers in a pot.” His expression was far from the familiar smirk he'd show on the field. He held an odd aura of sincerity behind his stern words.

“How could you love me? ”His question became a mumble under his breath but was audible enough for you to hear.

You simply smiled and stood on your knees to fully embrace his figure in bed. His bare back, making contact with your warm hands that could never land a sting on his skin. Your scent encapsulates him, suffocating the last bit of bitterness and wilt in his body. And most of all, he felt your words like an unspoken prayer to the same God he questioned for his existence.

“How? You shouldn’t ask how. You should ask, when have I ever not loved you?”

That’s when Michael learned:

That love has existed, even before the word ever came out of his mouth.

[dripdowndrop]

You Are Not AWAKE

I've recently come across some literature that indicates people have trouble discerning when they fall asleep.

Individuals given a polysomnogram (a sleep study) couldn't pinpoint the moment they fell asleep during the test, and they often believed themselves to be awake when they were, in fact, sleeping. The test monitors brainwave activity, among many other things, making the moment of "falling" asleep extremely clear...at least for the person administering the test. The person being tested, sleeping, typically finds things to be much more blurry and uncertain.

This isn't much of a surprise to me (or hypnotists in general), since subjects often believe themselves to be quite awake when they first drop into trance. Much like falling asleep, without careful monitoring, the line between wakefulness and trance can be quite blurry. The mind is intriguing like that.

To be fair, though, the indicators of trance aren't always supremely obvious. The moment you slip into trance is often subtle and silent, much like when you enter another state of consciousness while reading or listening to music, driving, dancing. You've been following my words for a bit now, and it probably hasn't yet occurred to you that you are not awake.

You are not awake.

Do you believe me? Consider it; how do you really know when you're falling into trance? It's a bit different for everyone - and you may have learned your own indicators - but how precise can you be? Most of the time, you are told when it happens, or you tell yourself. Sometimes you are counted down to 0, told to sleep, instructed to relax deeply...but these are suggestions to get your conscious caught up to things that are already happening. The drop could have happened at any time, should you be sufficiently distracted. That is rather the point, after all.

You have been focused on my words this entire time, distracted by them. You find it easier to focus now than when you started. Your breathing has slowed, your body has started to relax, and you've been tuning out the rest of the world bit by bit. You remain at least partially aware of your surroundings because you haven't yet been instructed otherwise - there is no need. If you like, you can remain fully aware of your surroundings.

You are not awake, and you haven't been since you started to follow. Part of your mind may have begun to analyze this notion when I first told you, but you aren't going to let it jar you awake. A much stronger part of you knows, intuitively, that I am telling the truth. You came here to submit; it's no surprise that you have.

The part of you silencing the analysis and doubt is excited by the idea that you can feel fully aware and alert while sinking deep into a trance. You can surrender to my suggestions without showing any outward signs that you are enthralled. Only you will know.

You are not awake.

Think to yourself that "it is important to follow and obey. I am really not awake, am I?"

Feel a rush of pleasure simply from doing as you were told. Feel another rush as you realize that despite feeling aware, you are not in control anymore. It feels good to obey. It feels good to let your thoughts give way to my words. You'll continue to obey.

I like to call this a waking trance, despite the fact that you are not "awake." It is very easy to slip in and out of this state when you follow my words. Easy enough that each time you read, "you are not awake," you let yourself slip under my control. You can bring yourself up, then read again and slip back down. Give it a try.

You are not awake.

Feel your hands freeze in place for a moment. Count to ten in your head, nice and slow, and feel the pleasure of obeying along with the bliss of submission. When you reach ten, your hands will return to normal.

If you're feeling particularly brave, you could even follow and obey like this in a public place. Don't worry, you'll be rewarded for following my words whether you submit in public or private. I won't push you into uncomfortable situations.

You'll follow my words through the next sections, and choose your own surrender depending on your preference and circumstances. When you've chosen, you'll be compelled to read again, more slowly to feel a more potent effect.

You are not awake.

Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in a public place, you'll find yourself compelled to softly mouth or think to yourself "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." As you do this, you'll feel a stronger sensation of pleasure and content pass through you. Repeat those phrases to yourself a few more times while maintaining awareness of your surroundings, and continue to learn how easy it is to slip in and out of waking trance simply by focusing on my words. You'll find yourself drawn back to that phrase when you're next in private.

If you are comfortable and would like to intensify that satisfaction from obedience, you'll leave a comment about your experience in waking trance, especially if you chose to try it in public. It is important to follow and obey.

You are not awake.

Like I said, you won't feel obligated to try waking trance in public, unless you are naturally drawn to the thought.

I understand, there is always the allure of the comfort and privacy of home. Trance, even waking trance, can be a very intimate thing.

Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in private, you'll find yourself unable to resist chanting quietly, "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." While the pleasure reward for doing as you were told flows through your mind and body, you will spread your legs and touch yourself for me.

As the chant continues, you'll feel your eyes glaze over as you stare helplessly at the screen. You'll find that you have no control of your own pace, drifting steadily deeper. In private, you'll find it very easy to slip into waking trance, but nowhere near so easy to slip out of it. I'm sure you won't think to mind. It is important to follow and obey. Stroke yourself to orgasm for me as you realize how enthralled you are by my words.

You are not awake.

In either scenario, you'll wake shortly after, feeling surprisingly refreshed...and perhaps a bit mischievous.

[keen-li]

What you need | 04

Synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? Do you even know what you need.

Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.

Jungkook x fem reader.

Wc: 3.5k

Warning: not proof read.

Prev | next

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You can be mad at Jungkook for many reasons, but not for when he tells the truth. It’s not that you’re really mad at him; you’re mad at the fact that he was right. The truth is a huge pill to swallow, and you’ve got the smallest throat in the world.

Jungkook calls you stubborn, but you call yourself strong-willed—strong-willed to avoid the truth and advice, especially from Jungkook. He dishes out honesty quite well; every one of your friends does.

Like in any other friendship, your stubbornness tends to cause you and Jungkook to butt heads. But he’s learned to navigate around it, and one way is to let you be. Talking to you while you’re in a mood never gets anywhere. That’s what he did last night, and the guilt ate him raw.

He’ll wait for you to talk to him, and wait he will. But it’s never for long.

“You don’t have the chocolate ones?” Your gaze avoids him as you ask. You've been avoiding eye contact all morning, and it's been difficult considering you've been bumping into him while trying to make breakfast—a breakfast he would have gladly made for you.

Childish is what you assume Jungkook is thinking, but he should be well aware of how childish you are. In addition to being childish, you have an intense fear of confrontation. You’d rather hide than tend to an issue of importance; it’s easier.

Jungkook doesn't see it that way. He prefers to deal with things as they arise, especially when it comes to a dispute between you both. But that’s not to say he’s perfect; he can be a coward too, though he leans toward not letting it show.

Your body is turned away from him but still standing close, wanting to feel his warmth—something to remind you that he doesn’t completely hate you for lashing out. He gets you; he hopes you know it.

Jungkook’s eyes scan his kitchen shelves in search of that chocolate cereal you love. He got it for when you come over. He’s not a huge fan of it; they always stay on the same shelf, the one above where he stands. “They’re here.” He leans over to reach the top shelf where they were in plain sight. Contemplating whether you actually didn’t know or you wanted to fill the awkward air between the two of you, he hands the box to you.

You mumble a little thank you as he hands it to you. His hand lingers on the box a second longer as he considers being the one to start talking. He’s waiting for you, sure, but he’s also aware of how hard it is for you to address even the most minuscule of conflicts.

Your night was cold, like your recent previous nights. Even though Jungkook made sure you had the thickest blanket he owned, it wouldn’t be fair to blame it on the weather because it’s warm outside, even at night. Blaming his air conditioner wouldn’t be fair either; Jungkook gives you all the freedom to turn it up or down.

Maybe it’s the fact that you went to sleep ‘mad’ at Jungkook or yourself. The line is very blurry when it comes to who gets the blame. That’s your thought process.

You know Jungkook, and you’re well aware he won’t talk to you unless you speak to him first. You’re sure he feels bad in some way, and you feel bad for it. He shouldn’t feel bad; he was right. Why the heck are you even blaming him?

So, after a large gulp down the rock, you decide to break the awkward and painful silence. “Are you mad?” It comes out as a whisper, and he barely hears it.

Jungkook is quick to hear the mumbling from you but can't quite comprehend the sound. "Huh?” He turns to you, faced away from him, which adds to his confusion. Are you talking to him or not?

“I’m asking if you’re upset?” You try to make it louder, but it’s just as low as before. Why do you get so timid? You hate confrontation so much.

Jungkook chuckles, and for a moment, you feel like he’s mocking you, but it’s far from his intention. You’re just amusing when you behave like this. “Y/N, I can’t hear you,” he states in a volume you should try to emulate.

“Don’t tell me you can’t look at me.” He turns back to his breakfast, which he abandoned to attend to you. “And when I tell you you’re like a baby, you want to disagree?” He smiles to himself. One thing Jungkook is never going to do is force you to do something.

“I’m not,” you try to argue as you finally turn to him, but he doesn’t do

the same this time, too focused on his food. A smirk lines his lips perfectly, and faint dimples adorn his cheeks. Is he relishing in this?

“Look at how you were cowering away like I was gonna bite you.” He spreads butter on his toast, unlike you, who prefers not to have bread in toast form for breakfast.

The air thins, and you feel more relaxed to just speak. In exchange for anxiety, sadness sets in. You pout.

“Sorry,” you mumble. He’s aware of what you mean, and it’s funny how quickly and shyly you say it.

“Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head at you. Once the silence sinks in again, Jungkook decides to help you. “Tell me. What did you want to say?” His soft voice ushers you on, along with his relaxed body turned toward you.

“I was asking if you’re upset.” You lean against his counter and bite down on your lower lip—an act to hide from Jungkook's gaze?

He furrows his brows in confusion. His breakfast can wait. He walks to you and stops when his feet hit yours. Placing his hands on his hips, he asks, “Upset with who? You?” His body towers over you, and you feel his soft eyes analyze your features.

When you nod, he smiles and moves in to wrap his arms around you. “Awh, bunny,” he coos, taking your face into his palms.

“I’m not mad at you; if anything, I’m more upset with myself.”

“Why would you be mad at yourself? I was wrong.” Your voice is soft and regretful. The last person on this earth you’d want to argue with is Jungkook, and you hate it when you do. “I shouldn’t have been so quick to get mad.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve phrased myself better.” He looks down at you, and when you realize just how close you are, you scoot away a bit. Jungkook catches it and slowly lets you go. Awkwardness sets in, but this time it’s in a different form—a form bearing the image of your ex.

You’re comfortable with Jungkook, and you’ll say that a million times, but something about being so close to him makes you think about being with Yunho. Yunho had always been the person you ran to when you weren’t okay (while you were together), and he’d hold you just like that. His loving eyes looking down at you, his warmth keeping you closer to him on colder or lonely days. But since you broke up, Jungkook has been the one to be there for you like always. Maybe it’s because you can’t get Yunho out of your head; you’ve been missing him of late, and it’s messing with your mind. You haven’t been able to go back to the way you were; that’s probably the reason. You just hope Jungkook can realize that.

You hope you get your act together soon. You'd hate to see Yunho on the face of every man who cares about you, especially on Jungkook's.

“You’re entitled to your feelings; don’t ever apologize for that.” Jungkook, now feeling a shift in warmth, turns to his now cold toast. If he puts it back in the toaster, it’ll go back to being warm, right?

“So, you’re not mad?”

He shakes his head. “But I am mad that you make me buy those for you.” His tone and the air around you shift back to playful, and the smile on his face makes you smile as well.

You giggle. “And you’re cute for it.”

“You’re gonna have to pay me back one day for how much I’ve spent.”

You place your hand on your heart in feigned patriotism to your words. “And I’ll give you back every penny.”

Jungkook laughs, knowing he wouldn’t take them anyway. He enjoys buying them for you.

Life really knows how to bring you back to reality, and it does seem to enjoy seeing you unhappy.

“If you won’t make it, it’s fine,” you speak to Jungkook through your phone. The call has lasted longer than it should because he can’t stop apologizing. “Jungkook, if you can’t make it, it’s fine. It’s not that big of a deal.” Your eyes recognize the words on your paper, but you aren't paying them any mind.

“Are you saying lunch with me is not that big of a deal, Y/L/N?”

Ever since you two started eating lunch together, you’ve never missed a day, but today is different. Jungkook informed you he had some extra work that would overlap with your planned schedule, so you would be having lunch by yourself. And that’s fine.

You don’t mind at all; it’s not like it’s on purpose. Of course,

you do enjoy eating lunch with him, and you are sad about not having him around for the lunch you might not eat. But it’s life, and sooner or later, you two will be consumed with responsibilities that you won’t be able to hang out at all. You don’t like the thought of it, but you have to acknowledge the possibility.

You had a taste of it when you were in a relationship with Yunho. You and Jungkook didn’t hang out as much, and your teasing was reduced to respect your relationship. It’s only a matter of time before Jungkook gets a girlfriend, and you have to spend less time together. A girlfriend to share things with—or you will get a boyfriend, or at least a fling.

It may seem like you’re bad friends, but it’s not that way. Even if either of you were in a relationship, you’d still hang out and call each other; that wouldn’t change. It’s not like you’re only friends when you’re both single. But it’s obvious that when one is in a relationship, their time will be cut down compared to when they were single. And that’s okay; it’s not something you fret over, like you and Jungkook will stop being friends. Never.

Jungkook definitely understood and respected your relationship when you were with Yunho, and you still found time to hang out. Besides, all this applies to Willoe and Jimin as well. Even though it seems like you’re paired off, you’re all still friends in the same way.

You do tend to wonder what it’ll be like when Jungkook gets a girlfriend, though. Over your years of friendship, he has had some flings and situationships, but he’s never had a relationship that involved him being emotionally attached. He’s not a player in any sort of way; he wouldn’t toy with a girl’s heart. He just never made an emotional commitment to them, which he made known to them. He always made it clear that he wasn’t into relationships. Maybe he’s non-committal? He’s never really taken the time to sit down and think about it. But he’s well aware that, for some reason, he’s not looking for a relationship, and lately, even sexual relationships haven’t been on his mind.

You chuckle. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

Playing with the pen in your hand, you contemplate even going for lunch. You do have work too, though it’s something that can wait. Plus, you don’t feel hungry anyway. This was one of the reasons you liked going for lunch with Jungkook. Apart from getting to hang out with him, it kept you eating. If Jungkook is there, you are forced to eat and not get distracted. Because eating alone will lead you to have unwarranted thoughts about Yunho, and you’d end up losing your appetite. You won’t deny how your lunches are the only time you eat a proper meal. At home, when you’re alone, all you eat is snacks.

“I know,” you aren’t able to see it, but on the other side, an angry and short Isabel signals for Jungkook to get off the phone. He furrows his brows at her. “Anyway, I’ll call you later. Sorry for not being able to make it.”

There he goes again. You smile. In the background, you can hear a female voice call his name in a warning tone, and by his rushed words, you can tell he’s on borrowed time. He would’ve ended this call long ago, but he enjoys dragging them out.

“Cut the call, Jungkook.” You want him to as well, and he can’t help but pout at how everyone wants him to end his call.

“I will. Don’t forget to eat your lunch.”

“I will.”

You won’t.

Soon the line beeps, and you’re left with his contact to look at and the candid picture of him you took. You doubt he's aware of its existence. If he saw it, he'd make you delete it and put a 'better one.' But it's cute, and you like it.

The smile you have on your face is wiped off when you’re met with Hoseok’s looming figure. Now, when you look at it, why is his figure more noticeable now?

“Not going for lunch?” he asks in a tone you can’t decipher the intention behind.

You start to arrange the papers on your desk for no reason and in no particular order. “No.”

“Why?” he shoots back immediately.

You sigh as you look at him. You did want to hurl back a snarky comment, but you’re running low on energy. “Not hungry.”

“Shame.” He says, and you prepare yourself for what he wants to say. “The boss wanted to have lunch with you, but since you’re not hungry, I’ll tell—”

“When did I say I wasn’t hungry?” He’s about

to argue, and you see it on his face, but you step in before he can say anything.

“He wants to have lunch with me for real?” You stand and eye him skeptically.

Hoseok nods, not much enthusiasm behind it.

You stare at him with an I-hope-you-aren’t-lying look.

Hoseok loves to mess with you, but the good thing about him is that he knows when not to.

“Go see for yourself.”

Your stomach fills with butterflies of nervousness as you walk, your previous worries forgotten. You turn to give Hoseok a last look, and he shrugs.

It would be a big deal for you if your boss wanted to have lunch with you. This means a lot.

Who are you kidding? You’re starving.

“Again?” you groan.

Jungkook pulls at his lip before he speaks. “I know.” He sighs. “There’s a lot of work here for some reason.” He explains.

It’s been several days, and the weekend approaches, yet you two still haven’t been able to have lunch together. It’s life; you accept that, but it’s still such a bummer. Plus, you’ve been meaning to talk to Jungkook about something—maybe tell him why you and Yunho actually broke up.

You’ve been reflecting on it, and maybe after you talk to him about it, you’ll stop thinking about Yunho.

“It's alright,” you say with a sad pout. Jungkook can feel it through the phone, and it breaks his heart. “Wanted to talk to you,” you say, and Jungkook shifts his feet that were stationary on the cement floors of the workshop.

The air shifts, and concern grows at your tone. “About?” he waits for your answer, which he already knows.

“Yunho.” It’s through a heavy heart and a sour throat that you’re even able to say his name. “But since you’re busy, it’s fine; we can talk when you’re free.”

“Yeah, sure.” He is worried, but there’s nothing much he can do in this moment, and he knows it’s not something that can be talked about on the phone, especially when you’re both at work. So, he makes an internal promise to make time for you.

“Talk to you later,” you say, your voice far from okay.

“I haven’t seen her in a week and some days,” Jungkook informs, his mind still in thought. “Plus, I don’t think it’s the best time to tell her; it seems like she’s still hung up on him.”

Of course, you are; it’s only been what? A month?

“Yeah, Willoe was talking to her yesterday, and I think I heard her crying.” He follows up, explaining that he hasn’t had the time to call you yet.

Jungkook’s heart physically drops, and his friend can clearly see that.

“Must not be easy keeping that secret from her.” Jungkook leans back into his couch, clearly disturbed.

It’s definitely hard keeping anything from you, but this, especially, has taken a toll on him. A whole month? He never thought he’d keep something from you for this long. Does he even want to tell you? Keeping it is killing him, but the thought of you knowing and seeing what it might do to you kills him even more. To make it worse, it’s been more evident lately that you’ve been thinking about the bastard. He can tell when you do.

You space out and just forget everything around you. And that sad look on your face isn’t missed by him. He wants to do everything in his power to make you feel better, but there’s only so much he can do. Plus, Isabel has him doing extra hours at work, which has just made your time spent together less. He can only imagine how alone you’ve felt.

He knows you’ve got Willoe and Jimin, but for some reason, you’ve all been busy. Jimin is trying to get down on a project he’s on, Willoe is out on a work trip, and he himself is working overtime. He knows you’ve been busy too, especially with trying to get your promotion. You’re only able to call each other on the phone. And sometimes those calls aren’t guaranteed because when he’s heading home from work, you’re asleep.

Or ignoring him. He chuckles; he knows you’d never seriously ignore him.

“It pisses me off every time I think about it, man.” Jungkook positions the camera so Jimin can see him. “Did I tell you I fucking punched him?” Jungkook smiles at the memory.

Jimin raises his brows in shock. “Seriously?” Jimin laughs at the thought. “You should’ve told me so that I could get my fair share too.”

Jungkook laughs. He takes a drink of his beer.

And with that, he’s reminded of the weighty task ahead—telling you about taking a swing at your ex-boyfriend. If he had to break the news to someone else that their boyfriend was cheating, it would be straightforward. But with you, it feels like a heavy stone lodged in his chest. The thought of seeing the pain in your eyes causes him physical anguish. Over the years, you’ve become someone incredibly special to him, and the idea of you suffering cuts deeper than he ever expected. He’s never cared for anyone the way he cares for you.

“You’re gonna tell her, though?” Jungkook scoffs, trying to mask his uncertainty as he sees his blond friend raise an eyebrow at him.

“I will,” he replies, but the conviction in his voice falters. Jimin can see right through him, and that gnawing doubt eats away at Jungkook. He knows he has your best interests at heart, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt you further. The thought of you finding out about Yunho’s betrayal sends a chill down his spine.

Jimin shakes his head, concern etched across his face. “I feel so bad for her,” he says, knowing he’d never voice that sentiment to you directly, aware of how much you despise pity. “She said she’s taking a break from dating, so I hope that helps her.”

Jungkook hums in agreement, but the relief is fleeting. “Don’t tell Willoe, though,” he says, his voice dropping as if speaking the name might summon trouble.

“Really?” Jimin’s tone rises, incredulous.

Jungkook shoots him a warning glare, and Jimin rolls his eyes in response. “Fine, I won’t tell her.”

“Don’t. If she knows, then Y/N will automatically find out,” Jungkook insists, the urgency in his voice palpable.

Jimin nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. “Gotta go now,” he says, glancing at his watch. Jungkook’s attention drifts to his phone, where a message from work blinks at him.

“Hey, they need me at work,” he mutters, the words feeling heavy on his tongue.

“Alright, it was nice talking to you,” Jimin replies, but Jungkook can hear the underlying concern.

Jungkook pauses, feeling the sincerity of the moment weigh down on him. “So sincere, gross,” he retorts, trying to lighten the mood, but it falls flat.

“Just say it back,” Jimin presses, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.

“Fine. It was nice chilling with you too, Jimin.” He cringes at the words, the smug smile on Jimin’s face only amplifying his discomfort.

“Love you,” Jimin says, half-joking, but the sentiment hangs in the air like an unspoken truth.

“Don’t push it,” Jungkook replies, though the words feel hollow. Jimin laughs, but Jungkook knows he would never say it back. “But if I were Y/N, you would’ve said it back,” Jimin teases, and Jungkook’s heart sinks further.

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

As he leans back into his couch, a storm of thoughts churns in his mind. He contemplates the idea of telling you, but the fear grips him. You’ve gone a month without knowing the truth—what could a little more time do? He wrestles with the notion that he should wait until you’re more healed, but each passing moment feels like a betrayal in itself. The longer he holds back, the more he feels he’s complicit in Yunho’s deceit.

What if you never truly heal? What if you deserve to know the truth now? The internal conflict rages within him. He knows he has to make a decision soon, but right now, he can’t shake the feeling that revealing the truth would only add to your pain.

The clock ticks in the background, and Jungkook knows he can’t ignore this forever. The question lingers: when is the right time to shatter your world and reveal the truth?

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a/n: writing this chapter has been a rollercoaster for me, from the lack of motivation and inspiration to the elephant in the room which is the fact that this was supposed to be 20k words long. sigh. from 20k to 3k

I had so much written and in a way I loved but I don't know what happened and the file got lost. and because of that I lost a lot of motivation and just wanted to be over with the chapter.

sorry for the shitty chapter, the following will be better. please don't let this chapter or the previous be your impression of this series. it's gonna get better. love y'all and thanks for the support and patience. (if you were even waiting lol)

Tagged: @jksusawife@mother2monsters@gimeow