#I do not want to live alone when I live out on my own but I also don't want to be in a 'we know each other because we live together'

[jasntodds]

can i request a jason fic 🥺 i was reading through the prompt list and saw two ("here's a spare key, so you don't have to keep coming through the window" and "i didn't know you could cook this good") and i thought they'd make a cute setup for a friends to lovers moment 🥺 sorry for not being around! i've been struggling with reading on my phone for long periods of time the last few months 😭 -guiltywaves

@guiltywaves omg hey!! I love friends to lovers so much dkjf but no no it's totally okay!! No worries!! I totally understand!! It happens to me all the time lmao I'm so sorry this took so long!! I wanted it to be perfect and make sure it wasn't super long!! I hope you like it!!

Maybe I'll do a part 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,045

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of injuries

masterlist | tag list | requests: open

Jason climbs through your window. A routine of sorts, really. After patrol, he comes by and always through your window. Sometimes he’s injured and lets you help him before you offer your couch to him. Sometimes he just stops by with a snack. But, he always comes in through the window.

Tonight is no different.

It’s after three when your window creaks open, Jason noting to himself to fix it for you. He crawls through your window, your apartment dark as it usually is when he comes by this late. He flips on the floor lamp to your living room before taking his helmet off and making his way to your kitchen to rest it on the table. He finds a note, your handwriting scribbled across the page containing Nightwing symbols at the corner.

Jason rolls his eyes but reads the note.

Leftovers in the fridge please eat

A smile tugs itself onto his lips before he pockets the note, folding it neatly beforehand. He’s quiet, reaching for the fridge where he finds the leftovers already in a bowl for him with a note that has his name on it, something that almost always makes him laugh. He's the only one you ever save food for.

This note has the Robin symbol.

He doesn’t think you even own anything with a Red Hood symbol and a very large part of him knows it’s because you do it to fuck with him.

It works every time.

He grabs the bowl, pulling the plastic wrap from it before he pops it in the microwave. He grabs a fork from the drawer and leans himself against the counter with hooded eyes, sleep tugging at his chest and bones. Patrol wasn't too bad tonight, that's not really it. He's standing in your kitchen and it's comfortable here. He's allowed to breathe with ease in your apartment and sometimes, that alone can make him crave sleep. The white noise of the microwave is only contributing to the heaviness of his eyes until it’s suddenly interrupted.

“Knew you’d be hungry.” Your voice tugs Jason from his almost sleep.

You look tired.

You sound tired.

“Thank you.” Jason’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of red as he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Just gonna eat and head out.”

“You can stay.” You roll your shoulders.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “‘M fine.” He gives you this toothy grin as some sort of proof he isn’t injured tonight though you’ve already pieced that together with him heating up his food.

“It’s late. You’re just gonna be more tired after you eat, Jay. It’s not like you don’t stay half the time anyway.” You roll your eyes at him before you disappear down the hall.

The microwave dings and it sends Jason quickly reaching for the handle to get it to stop. The noise is so jarring in your quiet apartment it sounds like his ears might bleed. The bowl is hot on his fingertips as he grabs it, quickly stirring before he puts it back in for a bit more time.

“I got you something.” You state as you reemerge from the hallway.

Jason’s brow quirks up. “What?” He let out a half-scoff half-chuckle.

The microwave barely gets a ding off before Jason grabs it and removes his bowl. He places it on the counter before you approach him. Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully before he sticks his fork into the pile of pasta.

“Here’s a spare key.” You stick out your hand and open your palm, revealing a painted red key. It matches his helmet. “So you don’t have to keep coming through the window.”

Jason thinks he might have a panic attack.

He’s comfortable around you. You’re his best friend. You’ve been friends for years, long before Red Hood. You know everything there is to know about him. It’s why he’s so comfortable walking into your apartment and grabbing his food. It’s why he can get some sleep when he’s here. But, having a key feels serious. It feels like a large responsibility. It feels like a commitment to something he’s not sure he knows what to do with.

He's staring at your palm like the key might try to bite and you have to hold your breath. There's always a chance he says no and it really shouldn't be a big deal because he's your best friend but you hold your breath anyway. You tell yourself it's just a key because Jason Todd deserves to feel welcomed somewhere at all times and that somewhere is here.

“Jay, you’re here all the time.” You tell him before you grab his hand and put the key in it. “Just use the damn key. And whenever you want.” You shrug. “I know sometimes you just don’t want to be alone so you can just come over whenever. I don’t know. You’re just always welcome.” You glance to the key in his hand and then up to him, hoping he takes it.

“I can’t do that.” Jason shakes his head, still holding out the palm of his hand.

“And why not?” You challenge.

Jaosn’s different than he was when you were kids. He’s guarded, cautious, you think he’s scared. When he was a kid, he was a little fearless and a little reckless. It wasn’t anything too crazy but a little reckless. He was open and welcoming. He was still cautious but it was more that caution just came from needing to survive from one day to the next. Jason’s caution today makes him look over his shoulder, look at every single person near him to see if they have a weapon. It makes him hide a gun under your couch and in one of your cabinets. He has a stash of food in his apartment he thinks you don’t know about. He’s different now than he was. So, you offer patience while still testing him. He doesn’t need to be different with you.

“Not trying to impose.” Jason tries to play off his own fears. “The window’s fine.” He tries to deflect. “It’s not even a bother anyway and—“

You let out a sigh cutting him off. “You’re not imposing if I’m inviting you which I am. The window’s fine until someone spots you and wants to know what the fuck is going on. The door is right here.” You point over your shoulder to the door. “Just take the key and use it.” You offer him a soft smile. "I want you here." You clarify.

Maybe it’s not the key itself that makes Jason want to run through a window. It’s the implication of what a key could lead to. And what if you ask for it back?

What if you change your mind?

“I painted it to match your helmet.” Your eyes soften, a hint of innocence behind them.

Jason's eyes go to the table, spotting his helmet and his chest feels like it’s on fire. Most of the stationary you own has to do with the bats. You have random collectibles of theirs, too which may have actually been gifted to you but you have them regardless. But the key to your apartment is Red Hood red.

You think you see a smile forming.

“Fine.” He caves, curling his fingers around the key before stuffing it deep into his pocket. “‘M gonna thank you for it then.”

“Okay, Jay.” You shine, relieved he took it.

“Can I eat now?” He points to his bowl of food that's no longer steaming.

“Yes, yes you can.” You chime.

Jason picks up his bowl, leaning his lower back against your counter before he twirls the pasta around the fork. You sit in front of him on your table just watching him. He’s your best friend but it’s hard not to notice how the armor compliments his muscle. It’s hard not to notice how pretty he is even in the low light of your apartment. You think he’s always been pretty but since reconnecting, you can’t help but think he’s stunning and tall and big. Your mind wanders to his hands, the way he holds the fork with large but delicate fingers as if he could break the metal with ease. You think how it would feel to hold his hand in yours, knowing Jason’s always radiated heat. You think how his palms are probably calloused and how they’d feel against your skin and—

Nope.

You shake your head of your own thoughts. He’s your friend and you’re just extra tired and touch-starved lately.

“How was patrol?” You ask with ease, kicking your feet in front of you, just missing his legs.

He shrugs. “Not too bad.” He answers. “Stopped a few robberies.” He states as he twirls his fork around his pasta.

“You look tired.”

He hums softly before taking his first bite, not even realizing how hungry he was until now.

“You look tired.” Jason quips back with the nod of his head towards you.

“That’s because it’s four in the morning.” You laugh softly. “Most people are tired at this time.” You widen your eyes at him to tease him.

"You can go back to bed, don't have to watch me eat." Jason widens his eyes back at you in response.

"No, that's okay." You smile back at him, not wanting to go back to bed when you could be out here with him.

“You know,” Jason starts as he points his fork at you. “Gotta get you different stationary. Tired of your Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin bullshit.” He changes subject, a little relieved you want to stay up a little bit with him. He feels guilty you're up with him but he does really enjoy your company.

“Aww,” You give him a pout. “But don’t you just love Dick and Damian and Tim?”

Jason blinks at you a few times as he keeps a straight face before taking another bite.

You let out a laugh and Jason thinks your laugh could cure him of all of his sadness.

“They’re your brothers.” You giggle.

“Exactly.” Jason answers.

“I could have painted your key Nightwing blue or the Robin colors.” You tease him with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t pick Spoiler or Orphan?” Jason says it more sarcastically than anything else.

“No, you like Steph and Cass.” You laugh.

“Swear, if I show up to Batman shit, I’m out.” Jason laughs back.

You make a mental note to pick up a Batman mug tomorrow just to fuck with him.

“Of course not.” You scoff but Jason knows he's given you the bad idea.

Jason laughs softly before taking another bite. “Go to bed.”

You let out a sigh before you hop down, noticing Jason is almost done eating anyway. "Pillow and blanket are already on the couch for you."

Jason glances to the couch, seeing a pale blue blanket peaking out from the arm of the couch.

"Thank you." Jason offers you a sincere but small smile. "Goodnight."

“Goodnight, Jay.” You smile softly before heading back to your room.

The next morning, you’re awakened by the smell of something cooking in your kitchen. For a few seconds, you think you’re either dreaming or hallucinating. But the longer you lay in bed, the more you become positive there’s definitely food being made.

It smells a little sweet and warm. It actually smells warm. And yet, it’s almost completely silent in your apartment. You figure it’s Jason because Jason can cook but you have no clue how he manages to be so quiet about everything he does. Sure, it’s his training and his life depends on it, but every time you try to cook anything, you drop at least one pan onto the floor and utensils usually go flying somewhere. You feel bad for you downstairs neighbors.

You grab your phone from the charger, pocketing it before you head out to the kitchen, still wiping sleep from your eyes. The smell grows stronger and you finally figure out it’s your favorite breakfast food. A smile pokes at your lips because, in all your years of friendship, you and Jason have only done breakfast a handful of times but he remembers anyway.

He’s attentive. That’s also something that comes with his training because his life depends on it. But, you knew him before Rd Hood. Before Robin and Batman. Jason Todd has always been attentive and you don’t think it’s something about living on the streets. It’s something that’s embedded into his DNA, pay attention to small things. Maybe that’s because of his mom, his overall childhood of having to take care of her but maybe it’s also just him.

“Morning.” You greet as you stretch your arms over your head, bending your back back a bit.

“G’morning.” Jason greets as he turns around from the stove.

He sounds well-rested.

He looks well-rested for once.

“You’re making breakfast?” You question as you walk over to your coffee maker, an empty cup already ready sitting there for you.

“Told ya I’d pay you back.” Jason states as he continues cooking.

“You really know the way to my heart.” You joke as you get your coffee going. “Always food.”

You watch Jason continue to cook and you think you could probably be mesmerized by everything he does. He's not really doing anything special but it seems that way because it's him. He could trip over a rock and fall into a lake and you'd still be mesmerized.

"Hello?" Jason calls, waving a hand in front of your face. Your eyes snap up to his as you feel your cheeks starting to burn. "I asked how you slept." Jason chuckles as he starts to plate the food for the both of you. "You alright?"

You shake your head, almost fumbling for words. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out." You clear your throat before you start to pour your cup of coffee. "Good, to answer your question." You let out a breath with the roll of your shoulders. "You?" You ask with a soft smile before you make your way to your spot at the table.

Jason always tends to sleep better here. Your couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable or the biggest but he still feels like he gets real sleep whenever he’s here. He could sleep a few hours and still be more rested than had he just slept at his place.

Jason doesn’t mind being alone, it’s always a bit safer if not for him then for the people around him but being alone gets pretty lonely. He doesn’t have to feel alone here. You’re here and he thinks he’d never be lonely again if you were always around.

“Good.” Jason answers, not willing to elaborate on his thoughts. “Your breakfast is served, princess.” Jason smirks at you with his quip as he sets the plate down in front of you.

“Ass.” You retort with the roll of your eyes just as Jason goes to take the plate back. Your hand grips his wrist. Your hand is no match for him, it’s tiny compared to him and his strength alone is enough but he stops anyway. “No, no, I’ll take this thank you.” You push his hand away and guard your food.

He laughs with the shake of his head and you hope the walls are absorbing the sound. Jason stays at your apartment a few days a week but he’s never here when you wake up. The blanket is always folded on the arm of the couch with the pillow placed perfectly on top. There’s always some sort of note thanking you for letting him crash. Sometimes, if you sleep in because work sucked or you're sick, he picks up some of your favorite snacks and takeout, leaving it in the fridge for you for when you wake up. But, he’s never here.

You find yourself thinking you could get used to this though. His laugh in the early morning and him looking so comfortable.

His hair is all tousled from sleeping. He looks a little disheveled. You see him disheveled all the time because he always has helmet hair and he’s always getting himself into trouble. It kind of comes tih with territory, you think. But, today, it’s just because he slept here. He looks disheveled because his hair is messy and he’s comfortable. He looks comfortable and warm and you’d go as far as to say he looks beautiful.

You hope he chooses to stay more.

“Okay, I didn't know you could cook this good.” You states after taking a few bites, genuinely surprised. Is there anything Jason Todd is bad at?

A rosey shade of pink dusts over his cheeks as he shrugs. “What? Thought I only eat pasta and whatever else you managed to save me?” He quips, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through his ribcage.

“Well…yes.” You let out a laugh while Jason offers you his fake glare.

“Like to cook sometimes, got good at it.” Jason shrugs a shoulder with his minimal explanation.

“Well, now you have to cook more.” You shrug easily as you offer him a grin.

“I have to?” Jason raises a brow at you, taunting you to rethink your words.

You don’t.

“Yes. I said so.” You laugh back at him.

“Not sure I want to now.” Jason shrugs his shoulders dramatically.

“Awww, pretty please, Jay.” You give him a pout and not even a single ounce of him actually believes he’d ever be able to say no to you about anything.

“What’d ya want for dinner?” Jason asks before he goes back to his food.

“Wait, really?” You beam and Jason glances back to you.

There’s always this sort of pull in his chest when things feel good, like he’s undeserving and he needs to wait for the other foot to drop. It feels like this now. He feels comfortable here. He’s happy here with you. You’re his favorite person and you're always the person he wants to talk to you about a new book he read or something insane one of the bats did. You’re the first person, the only person, he goes to when he’s been hurt on patrol. Jason swears you’re his best friend despite the beating and rumbling through his ribcage.

“Unless you’re bored of--”

“I’m never bored of you.” You cut him off immediately. “Okay, I’ll think of something and I can help.” You beam back at him with excitement before going back to your food.

A smile tugs at the corner of Jason’s lips and despite the worrying and fear of this whole thing blowing up in his face, he finds himself thinking he could get used to mornings with you, just like this.

[rosemariiaa]

~Echoes Of You~

pairing- Paige x Azzi

a/n: cute little song fic because we all missed those, and yes i have delivered fluff 💌

song: Pink in the Night - my love Mitski

theme- fluff

Enjoy!!!

Paige can’t sleep again.

She lies in her bed, staring at the ceiling as the pink glow of her nightlight washes over the room. It’s late, probably too late to still be awake, but she’s not in the mood to close her eyes. Not when her mind’s too full of her. She bites her lip, annoyed with herself, the way her thoughts keep circling back to Azzi. It’s been happening more often lately, and she hates it.

“I glow pink in the night in my room,”

Paige thinks, frustrated. It’s stupid how much she’s let this feeling grow—like she’s been blossoming alone over someone she shouldn’t even be thinking about. They’re teammates, just friends. Paige had drawn the line a long time ago, but somehow, Azzi had crossed it without even knowing.

“And I hear my heart breaking tonight.”

She shifts on her bed, trying to ignore the pounding in her chest. The silence in the room makes it worse. Her heart beats so loud, she swears she can hear it cracking. “Do you hear it too?” Of course, Azzi can’t hear it. She’s probably fast asleep in her own room, not knowing that Paige is losing sleep over her. God, this is so stupid.

Paige gets up, hoping to clear her head. She pads down the hallway, not bothering to turn on the lights. When she reaches the living room, she freezes.

Azzi is already there.

Sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up, Azzi’s face is illuminated by the soft glow of the TV screen, but the sound is muted. It’s almost eerie, seeing her there like this, alone and silent. Paige’s breath catches in her throat. She should turn back. She should leave.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she stands awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to say or do. Azzi notices her after a moment, turning her head slightly. “Couldn’t sleep either?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige shrugs, her body tense. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The silence stretches between them, heavy with everything unsaid. Paige moves to sit on the other side of the couch, careful to keep her distance. But it doesn’t matter. Azzi’s presence is enough to make her chest tighten. It’s stupid, but she wants to reach out, to close the gap, to say something that would break this unbearable tension. She doesn’t.

Instead, she just watches Azzi, stealing glances when she thinks she won’t notice.

“I could stare at your back all day.”

The thought hits Paige out of nowhere, and she has to bite her tongue to keep from saying it out loud. Azzi’s back is turned slightly, her posture relaxed in a way that makes Paige feel anything but calm. There’s something about the way Azzi carries herself that drives her crazy—not in an obvious, in-your-face way, but in the subtle things. The way her curls fall over her shoulders, the way her lips twitch when she’s deep in thought. Paige feels like an idiot for noticing these things.

Azzi shifts, turning to face her fully now, and Paige’s eyes snap away like she’s been caught. “You okay?” Azzi’s voice is soft, but there’s something in her tone that makes Paige’s stomach churn. It’s like she knows. Or maybe Paige is just paranoid.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Paige lies. She’s not fine. She hasn’t been fine in weeks, but she’s not about to admit that, especially not to Azzi.

They sit in silence for what feels like forever, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. Paige’s mind keeps replaying the same memories over and over again. That one night, 2 years ago at Azzi’s grandparents lake. The way Azzi had looked at her, how close they’d been. They’d kissed, but it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t felt right.

“I know I’ve kissed you before, but I didn’t do it right.”

She wonders if Azzi remembers it too, or if it was just another fleeting moment for her. Paige curses herself for not doing more, for not saying what she really wanted to say back then. She swallows hard, the words lodged in her throat.

“Paige…” Azzi’s voice pulls her back to the present, and there’s something different in it now—something hesitant. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Paige freezes. Her mind blanks for a second, panic setting in. Has she been that obvious? She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Azzi’s eyes are on her, waiting for an answer, and Paige feels like she’s suffocating under the weight of it all.

“I… I don’t know,” Paige finally manages to say, but it’s a weak excuse, and she knows it.

Azzi shifts closer, her gaze never leaving Paige’s face. “That’s not true,” she whispers. “You know exactly why.”

“And I hear my heart breaking tonight.”

Paige’s heart is pounding now, louder than ever. She wants to deny it, to brush it off, but the look in Azzi’s eyes stops her cold. There’s no more hiding. No more pretending.

Without thinking, Paige reaches out, her hand brushing Azzi’s cheek. The touch is hesitant, unsure, but when Azzi leans into it, Paige feels a surge of emotion she can’t control. “I’m sorry,” Paige whispers, her voice breaking. “I didn’t do it right before. Can I… can I try again?”

Azzi’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she nods, her eyes softening. Paige leans in slowly, her heart racing, but this time, when their lips meet, it feels right. It feels like everything she’s been wanting to say but couldn’t. The kiss is soft, slow, filled with all the things they never said.

When they finally pull apart, Azzi rests her forehead against Paige’s. “We’ll get it right this time,” Azzi whispers.

“Try again, and again, and again.”

They don’t need to say anything else. The silence between them feels different now—lighter, filled with possibility. Paige knows they’ll keep trying, keep figuring it out together. And this time, they won’t be alone.

[chrisbesitos]

younger reader having parent issues :( so whenever Chris snaps at her it reminds her of when she was younger and her dad yelled at her

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀emails i can't send

( warnings: family issues, argument, angst with fluff at the end.

( synopsis: y/n never had a healthy family and this still affect her.

Y/N parents wasn't the best ones. She had a great childhood, playing outside with her friends, a lot of dolls and colorful toys, but still missing something. Doesn't matter what she said or did, it never was enough for them. Never was enough for them to stop screaming, everything fucking night she could hear from her room. Y/N just cried, hugging her favorite plushie against her chest under the blankets, at least when they were screaming with each other, they didn't scream at her.

Growing up dealing with that shit wasn't easy, but she learned how to survive. Cry in silence in the middle of the night, walk around on tiptoe to not disturb her dad, she also learned who's coming by the sound of the steps. This is not living, but there's nowhere to run, nowhere to go.

Until she met Chris, her lovely boyfriend. Her parents didn't like him, they always said he'll end up cheating on her or breaking up, because she's younger than him. At first, Y/N didn't tell anything about her relationship with her parents to Chris, but he started to ask when he realized she always looks upset when they talk about their families. He and his brothers have a great and supportive family, Y/N feel a little jealousy of them.

She said what's going on in the night she asked Chris if she could spend the night, because her parents were mad at her and she couldn't deal with the screams anymore. Chris was supportive, he cleaned her tears and held her until stop crying. Y/N was nineteen, she could move out, Chris said she could stay with him. At first, she denied, because she didn't want to disturb them, but Y/N ended up accepting, at least for a while until she find a place for her.

Chris promised he'll never scream at her, but he didn't keep his promise.

"So you're gonna keep ignoring me?" Y/N said following Chris until their room, Chris wasn't answering her since they got in the car after leaving a dinner with his friends. "Can you fucking answer me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Chris groans, he turned to Y/N with his arms crossed against the chest and the eyebrows frowned.

"What do i want you to say? You're fucking ignoring me since we left, what's wrong with you?" She stamped her foot on the ground, Chris laughed sarcastically. He sat on the couch, shaking his head. "Damn, stop being so childish!"

"I'm being childish? You're the one who is stamping your feet, because I'm not doing what you want."

"What are you talking about, Chris?!" She said, passing her hands through the hair nervously.

"You don't give me five minutes, because I always have to be around you or you fucking cry about." He said, almost screaming. He groaned when she frowned her eyebrows, trying to understand. "Don't play dumb, Y/N. You can be alone for fucking five minutes, you can't act normal around people? You need to keep grabbing my hands and shit."

"I'm sorry if I don't know how to talk with your friends, they fucking older than me." Y/N crossed her arms, stepping back and hardly holding her tears. She doesn't like arguments, Chris knows this, but he's too angry to think straight.

"There we go again, you and your fucking "oh, chris, they're older than me"" He lifted up from the couch, stepping in Y/N's direction. "You're such a cry baby." He screamed in your face, then he realized he took too far.

Her eyes are filled with tears, hugging her own body. Y/N feel like she was a kid once again, small and defenceless. He took too far, he promised he'll never scream at her, because that's what her father used to do and he screamed. Chris felt so. . . So idiot.

"You think I'm a cry baby?" She asked, her voice cracked and this broke Chris' heart. He wasn't an idiot, he was an asshole. What type of boyfriend is he making his girl cry? Chris shook his head, closing his eyes fighting against his tears. He tried to reach for her hands, but she didn't let he hold them.

"I shouldn't have screamed with you, doll. I'm so sorry." He said, his voice was stuck on his throat. Y/N shook her head, more tears were falling from her pretty eyes. He felt like shit for being horrible with his girlfriend, she didn't deserve this.

She didn't deserve him.

"Do you think I'm a cry baby?" She asked again, Chris shook his head approaching her. Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself down. "So why you call me this?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was so blind being selfish that I didn't think, but I don't think you are." Chris said, embracing her shoulders and moving her towards the couch. Y/N sat down and Chris kneeled down on the floor in front of her, he held her hands. "I'm really sorry, doll. I didn't mean to treat you like this. I was acting like a–"

"Asshole." She said, sniffing.

"Asshole, yes." He said, Chris kissed the back of her hands. "I don't think you're a cry baby, neither childish. I disrespect you and I see this now, you're just trying to fit in and I didn't help you, I'm sorry, doll."

"You hurt me with your words, Chris. And you know I don't like screams, you upset me." Y/N said, she use her fingers to clean the tears on Chris' cheeks. "You promised me, Chris."

"I know, doll, and I'm really sorry. I'll never do that again."

"I'm sorry if I was annoying today, I just didn't know how to fit." She said, looking at Chris with her glassy eyes. He lifted the floor and sat by her side, he pulled her to his lap and kissed her forehead.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize, not you." Chris hugged her shoulders, Y/N rested her head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. "I don't know how to fix this, I'm really sorry, Y/N."

"Don't call me Y/N, I'm your doll." Y/N lips leaned in a smile, she lifted her head and looked at Chris. "Never do that again with me, I'm not kidding." She pointed at him and Chris nodded quickly.

"Never again, doll." He smiled, Y/N hugged his neck and Chris caressed her back, giving little kisses on her hair. "I love you, babydoll. Much more than you can think."

"I love you, baby." She whispered. "Now, I know how you can fix this." She gave him a perv smile, Chris laughed caring her to the bed.

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

taglist | masterlist

[m3l0nfl0at]

pack it up - t. kuroo

kuroo tetsurou x gn! reader ; FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, reader has doubts (who doesn’t honestly), domestic kuroo x reader, kenma teases you and kuroo for being simps, nerdy and simp kuroo (yummy, my fav), oh and timeskip!kuroo, 3.3k words

summary ; this is a mini fic based off of my fic here, just say yes but this can be read as a stand alone! You and Kuroo decide to take your relationship to the next level, are you ready for that change though? (aka moving in with kuroo)

melon’s recommended melody: moving out - kacey musgraves

Packing was always dreadful, it didn’t feel like long ago you were taking all this stuff out of the box and now you’re here putting it all back in a box. Even though Kenma told Kuroo to not steal his roommate, here you are moving into Kuroo’s apartment. Kenma keeps passing by your room watching you pack because each time he passes by, you’re focusing on something different. “You know Kuroo’s expecting you to be ready in three days, right? If you keep going at this rate, you’ll be done in, say, three years.” Kenma slowly walks away before you could even respond to him. Oh, how you were going to miss his sweet remarks. Truth be told, you loved living with Kenma, he was always neat, kept to himself, and you got used to hearing the video games he played during the night, even going so far as to call it “white noise”. Nevertheless, when Kuroo asked you last month if you wanted to move in, you felt ready to take your relationship to the next step. Kuroo would spend the night at your place occasionally. Nevertheless, you were more likely to spend the night at his due to not wanting to be affectionate in front of your roommate. If old habits die hard, then why were you here getting anxious at the thought of living with your boyfriend?

Living with Kenma, you got used to your daily routine in this apartment, you knew this apartment like the back of your hand, and you got used to seeing Kenma everyday but now that’s all going to change? You suppose that’s why it’s taking you forever to pack, you slightly fear everything changing too quickly. On one hand you’re excited to move in with your boyfriend, seeing Kuroo everyday? Yes please! On the other hand, you’re going to be seeing Kuroo everyday. What if he gets tired of you, what if he gets mad at your habits, or what if you guys realize living with each other that you guys aren’t meant for a relationship? Hearing Kenma walk by again, only to see you zoned out looking at a box labeled mementos. Kenma sensed something was wrong but thought if he kept walking by, maybe you would realize what little time you had and get to packing. However, by his fifth time walking by, he knew you were overthinking. Due to you being too quiet for your own good, that was his thing after all. “Tell me.”, you look up to see Kenma leaning on the door frame. “There’s nothing to tell, Ken. Just overwhelmed with how much crap I have to pack up.”, Kenma’s face relaxes as he glares at you. “Don’t make me call your boyfriend, so he can come give you a sappy talk.” You look back slowly at the mention of Kuroo not wanting him to see you in this state. “You know what? Maybe you do need your boyfriend to come snap you out of whatever daze you’re in. Who knows, maybe he’ll help you pack faster.”

You chuckle, knowing that Kenma secretly pokes fun at you guys for the way you both act so sweetly towards each other. “Would you make fun of me if I said to call Kuroo right now?” Kenma rolls his eyes, walking away. “I’ll call him.”, Kenma would never admit this out loud but he secretly loves seeing the way Kuroo folds for you. If Kenma wasn’t above publicly teasing he would so make fun of him for being absolutely whipped for you. Kenma left you alone with your sad empty mementos box, lifting up a picture frame that contained a picture with you and Kenma from when you first moved in. A part of your heart breaks, you reassure yourself that Kenma will always be here in this apartment. You hope he knows that a part of you will always be here too. If it weren’t for him, you and Kuroo would’ve never been together. You owe a lot to Kenma, from kickstarting your career to introducing you to your future boyfriend. Plus, you work under Bouncing Ball corp so you’ll still see him every other day. Kenma comes back and sees you look at the picture of you two, “You work for me you know? Plus you’re dating my best friend, I'm not dead or anything.”. Laughing you look up at him, “Can’t you let me be sentimental! I got used to your quirks, your 3 A.M. gaming, and your obnoxious best friend. I’m just going to miss seeing you as much as we are used to, that’s all.”

“We both know you just hate change but if it helps I’m going to miss you too. The apartment does look a little glum as you’re packing away all your stuff. I guess I actually have to decorate now.”, he groans thinking about how he’s going to decorate the apartment to fill your space. “Maybe now you can use my room to make that theater you always wanted?” Kenma nods, glad that you weren’t completely gone yet. Placing the picture frame in the box, you hear the door open. Quickly getting up to be met with Kuroo at the front door holding takeout, “There’s my beautiful partner, hi baby.”, you take the bags from his hands before he pulls you in for a hug placing a quick kiss on your cheek. Kenma comes behind you stealing the bags from you, gagging at the shared exchange. Kuroo laughs, “Well hello to you too, Kenma.”. You and Kuroo start heading to the table as Kuroo pulls out a chair for you to sit in.

The night goes on, as you all end up talking about your day and how the following days were going to look for the three of you amidst the chaos that was moving out. “Sweetheart, have you almost finished packing? I wanna know how much stuff you have so I can book the moving truck.”, you freeze. “About that…”, Kenma cuts you off, “All she has packed is a picture frame.”. You look over at Kenma, bewildered that he ratted you out. Kuroo laughs at how cute you look but is also shocked that you’ve packed so little in a week. “Let’s go baby, I’ll help you pack your things.” Kuroo gets up finished with his plate and grabs yours to place them both in the sink. Following him to your room you start to feel anxiety creep in, shaking your head to get rid of the thoughts. Kuroo walks in to see boxes all labeled and set up, yet lacking all the items inside. “Well, you would win the contest for boxing baby but not so much for packing.”. You place your head in your hands, “I know, this is so embarrassing. In my defense, every time I start to pack I get distracted and start doing something else.”. Kuroo grabs your hands off your face, placing them back on your lap, “Well now I’m here to help you, no need to be embarrassed sweetheart.”.

Kuroo grabs your box labeled clothes heading to the closet to start neatly folding the items in your closet. “Baby, do you want me to put this away in a specific way? Or should I just try to stuff everything in the box? Bunny?” Kuroo peeks his head out of the closet. Seeing you entranced on another picture frame, “Sweetheart, at this point I’ll pack the mementos.”. Kuroo went to grab the frame before he saw a picture of you as a toddler, now yanking it out of your hand. “Baby! Are you joking? You are so adorable! Oh my god this has to be hung up in the living room so I can see your cute little face before I leave for work!” You roll your eyes at Kuroo’s behavior, “Kenma should just pack the mementos because you would definitely not be faster than I am.” You get up to hug him from behind, “Tetsu, can I be honest with you?” Kuroo is still looking at the picture of you as he hums in approval. “I’m nervous.”, Kuroo finally places the picture in the box before turning to fully face you. Kuroo pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Breathe baby, your brain needs oxygen.” laughing along with him for being such a dork. “You know it’s okay to be nervous right? You’re going through a big change, be more lenient with yourself, yeah?”

Kuroo pulls back from you, “All I know is right now, my heart is pumping like crazy thinking about you living with me.” You laugh as he places your hand on his heart feeling the said thumping. Kuroo brought the positives into your life that you needed, made you feel safe, and most importantly stood by you even if you surrounded yourself in negative thoughts. “I’ll wake up to your breathtaking face every morning, come home to your heartstopping smile, and go to sleep with you in my arms. What more could I ask for? We’ll get through this together. I mean it’s not like I’ve ever lived with anyone before, especially with someone as gorgeous as you.”, you punch Kuroo’s shoulder rolling your eyes . Kenma coughs interrupting Kuroo’s speech before it went off the rails, “So I take it you're still not packed? You are both hopeless, move over.” Kenma starts placing all your mementos away in seconds, you look over at Kuroo mouthing I told you so. “I brought Kuroo to help you pack and now I’m here to hold Kuroo accountable. You both are going to get nothing done at your apartment, if all you do is give each other heart eyes all day.”, you and Kuroo blush profusely knowing that you’ve both been caught.

With Kenma helping you pack everything went smoothly, Kuroo left for the night leaving you and Kenma alone for the next two days. “Well, we got mostly everything. I just need to take down the last of my posters. I don't want them to bend out of shape in the boxes. Then we can start loading everything into the truck.”, you stopped when you suddenly heard a shuffle behind you. Turning around to be met with Kenma looking around and touching the empty walls glumly, “It’s going to be hard to find something to replace your space. That something is going to fall short in everything compared to you.”, you get closer to Kenma before nudging his shoulder softly. “I’ll miss you too Ken. Thank you for everything, I could never repay you for the amount of kindness you showed me.”, breaking away it felt bittersweet. The walls were suddenly white with no more picture frames or traces of you anywhere, you’re actually moving out. “You ready to start packing up the truck?” Kuroo's bedhead fills the doorway as Kenma gives you one last smile pushing you towards Kuroo. You take up his offer, getting to work by lifting your boxes that is until Kuroo stops you. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ll take that one. Don’t want to bump into each other again, do we? Can’t have you falling for me a second time.”. You brush off his comment but you're strangling him as soon as you get to your new apartment.

All the coming and going back and forth had you exhausted, wanting nothing more than to start unpacking everything. You go to Kuroo’s room making a mental list of everything you need to buy from furniture to home products. Kuroo says goodbye to Kenma, a few seconds later you hear his footsteps approach you from down the hallway. He walks up from behind, embracing you, “You ready to start unpacking baby? Ken said he gave you the next couple of days off so you can settle in.”. You nod, wanting nothing more than to make this apartment your new home, “Yeah, I was thinking we could go to a furniture shop and also to the groceries! You know just so I can get some of my favorite products-”. “No need to worry bunny, I restocked your products you left here. I also got you a dresser for your side of the closet, even separated my side from yours. However, if you still want we can go to the groceries and Ikea just in case I missed something.” You turn around amazed he did all of that for you, “Are you serious Kuroo? You thought that far ahead?”. He nods excitedly, dragging you to the closet as you see his side of the closet filled with clothes. In addition, you see the newly setup dresser for you on your side. Then he drags you to the bathroom looking at the shower rack filled with all your regular products and a space in the toothbrush holder for you. Spinning around to crush him in a hug. He knows that change wasn’t always easy for you but if he could do anything extra to make it easier, he would do it again a thousand times. “I love you so much Tetsu.”, Kuroo grins into the crook of your neck feeling his palms getting sweaty due to being so close to you.

“Well, this is our home now. I want you to feel the same way I do when I’m with you, safe and welcomed.”, you pull back pecking him on the lips. “You’re getting too good at reading me, it's starting to freak me out Tetsu. Don’t tell me you even bought me my own loofah?” Kuroo bashfully opens the shower curtain to show you the new loofah standing next to his. You laugh suddenly feeling at ease, having to ask Kenma later if he had any part in this. Kuroo was right, this is your home, you didn’t want to be anywhere but with him. “Well casanova, help me unpack will ya?” Kuroo scrunches his nose at the new nickname you call him. “Nope, try again baby.”, you think hard trying to think of a nickname that’ll smoothly roll off the tongue. “Ok what about handsome, my love, darling, superstar, my loverboy, captain-”, Kuroo places a hand over your mouth quickly. His face is so red, it almost replicates a tomato, “Yes to all but I fear that if you kept going I was going to have a heart attack. Plus, we still have to unpack and I don’t think I can hold myself back for much longer if you keep calling me sweet names.”

After an eventful day of unpacking, you and Kuroo spent the rest of the day cuddling at ease which is something you usually do every night. Yet both of you felt so giddy laying down tonight, you don’t have to wake up in the morning and immediately leave for your train. Instead you’ll wake up, look over to the love of your life and start your new daily routine with him doing the most domestic things together. You fell asleep knowing this was a new chapter in your life and as scary as that was, you know wouldn’t want to share this experience with anyone else. Kuroo wraps his hand around your waist, sighing, feeling at peace with everything around him. He had nothing to worry about, no worries like if you made it home safely or if some creep on the train bothered you, you were right here safe in his arms. You both wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here, encapsulated in each other's warmth.

Feeling the sun slowly creeping up you turn around to face Kuroo, “No, don’t move, I need five more minutes.”. Giggling as you still move, wanting to see his face like you did the day you realized you liked him. “Isn’t this a sight to see? You know what, I don't need five more minutes, your face is my energizer. I can’t believe I get to wake up to you everyday, I must’ve solved some huge problem in my past life to be blessed with you.”, you hide your face in his chest from all the compliments he paid you this early in the morning. Kuroo kisses the top of your head before you feel the rumble of his laugh traveling through his chest. “Want to go make breakfast with me bunny? I bought some groceries to make pancakes. Yeah?”, you nod your head as you head to the bathroom to do your routine. Kuroo walks behind you, by reflex you hand him a spa headband so he can wash his face. He takes the black cat ear headband looking at it confused, your eyes widen standing straight up. “Sorry! I would always wash my face with Kenma so it’s by reflex.” Kuroo kisses your cheek following you while putting on the headband, “Okay, show me what you do baby. Maybe if I do everything correctly I’ll look as flawless as you do everyday.”

You take your time explaining to Kuroo your skincare and how to apply everything in which he obediently follows, taking note of what products you like for later. Then you both brush your teeth, making sure to go through everything diligently. However, when you looked at Kuroo you noticed his hair was sort of deflated. Due to him not being able to sleep between two pillows like he usually does. You start combing through his soft locks, seeing how he deflates under your touch. “You ready to go make some breakfast, my love?” Kuroo flushed under your touch and the use of his new nickname, nodding not wanting to wait a second. You grab his hand leading him to the kitchen, Kuroo smiles. Glad that you’re familiar enough with his apartment layout to lead him through it. “Ok handsome, let’s go make some pancakes.”

Kuroo guides you through his kitchen showing you where the spices were, how he dedicated a whole shelf in his pantry for you, and where he puts his utensils. Feeling confident enough you head to the pantry finding the pancake mix and hand it to him, while he grabs it but not forgetting to place a kiss on your hand. Wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the muscles on his back move as he softly whisks the pancake batter, finding solace in this moment. “You still tired bunny? You can go lay down I’ll wake you when everything’s done.”, you shake your head. “No I’m not tired, just really comfortable right now with you. Being here, I feel welcomed by everything that you are. Waking up I see you, the living room has traces of your style, like it just feels like you everywhere I go.” Kuroo softly chuckles, “That’s good though right?” he feels you nod your hair ticking his back.

Letting go of Kuroo, you leave him to cook the pancakes while you prepare fruit and set the table. Kuroo pulls out your chair letting you sit down as he serves you a plate of pancakes shaped like a heart. You smile as he sits down grabbing your hand, caressing it, lifting his mug. “Here’s to our first full day of living together, I know there will be many more to go, I love you bunny.”, you smile clinking your mugs together. You send a picture to Kenma of Kuroo eating his pancakes surrounded by the array of fruit you cut up for the both of you. Making sure to get the heart shaped pancakes Kuroo made for you in the shot as well. Only to immediately get a reply back, “You both make me sick. Enjoy the new apartment lovebirds! (¬⤙¬ )”.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: writing this had me giggling so bad also just say yes now has a time line so please look forward to the masterlist! p.p.s i am accepting request for just say yes! kuroo short stories so hit up my inbox and i’ll try to get those done! i’m doing everything in a timeline order so pls be patient just know i see them! <3

@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[lilacmingi]

DR. FACILIER (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Dr. Facilier!Mingi x fem!reader

Word count: 8,130

Note: I was rereading over this while drafting it here from my Wattpad and I totally forgot how much I loved it 😫

The sound of the front door being slammed shut echoed throughout your home, followed by the sound of keys being dropped into the glass bowl kept in the foyer.

"You're not gonna believe what just happened." Your brother, Wooyoung, hissed angrily as he stormed into the living room.

"What?" You asked, rolling your eyes.

"I went to that voodoo guy and he screwed me over."

"You what?" You sat upright, giving him a sharp glare. "You know those people are quacks."

"I was curious." He defended.

"What exactly did this guy do?"

"He did some card reading to predict my future and it was horrible."

"I don't see what the problem is. You paid to have your future told."

"He was all upbeat and excited saying that he saw a bright future for me and then when I paid him and pulled cards, he told me I was gonna lose all my money and die alone."

"Seems pretty accurate to me."

"Hey!" He huffed, slapping your arm.

"It's the truth! You lost money on that reading."

"Don't you get it? He made me think I was gonna get a good reading and I didn't. I was tricked."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know. Something."

"No."

"Do something, Y/n." He whined, shoving your shoulder.

"Cut it out."

"Not until you do something."

"You can take care of it yourself. If you're not satisfied, go talk to the guy."

"If I go back, he'll recognize me. Plus, he has a sign up that says no refunds."

You stared up at the purple and green sign that read: Dr. Song's Voodoo Emporium. There were two torches up on either side of the sign, casting an orange glow on the letters.

You didn't even know why you were there. Maybe you did care that Wooyoung got scammed or maybe you knew he wouldn't quit complaining about losing money if you didn't do something.

"It's now or never." You muttered to yourself before pulling open the creaky door and stepping inside.

"Welcome." A deep and somewhat husky voice greeted you from somewhere in the shadows. "You know, I always say fate brings people into my little shop."

Suddenly, the room was illuminated by many candles and lanterns, all being set aflame on their own and all at once. Stepping out from the dark shadows was a tall, slim man with silvery hair pushed away from his face. He donned an outfit consisting of a vest, an animal print suit jacket, dark trousers, and boots. In his hand was a cane with a gold skull on the end.

"So, darling, do you think fate brought you here?" He asked, extending his hand to you.

"I think you ripping off my brother brought me here." You answered.

He retracted his hand, his strong brows tugging together. "What ever do you mean?"

"You scammed my brother."

"I don't know your brother." He stated.

"You told him you saw a bright future for him and when he got a card reading, you told him he would lose all his money and die alone."

"Sorry to inform you, but I can't control that."

"Yeah, right."

"I swear. It's not me. It's the cards."

"The cards?" You scoffed. "Please."

"It's true. I don't decide people's futures."

"I knew it. You're just a scam artist." You hissed, stalking towards the exit.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah!" The man hurried to stand in front of the door, his hands up as he tried to stop you from leaving.

You sighed, crossing your arms as you waited to hear what he had to say.

"I'm a man who likes to make bargains. So, how about this? I give your brother another reading for free if you let me give you a reading right now."

"You scammed my brother and you think I want a reading from you? No thanks. I'm not interested in your tricks."

"No tricks."

"You're lying. I know how con men like you work."

"Fine. I guess you don't want to help your brother."

"You know that's not true."

"Oh, but it is. If you really wanted to help your brother, you would take this simple deal."

"Why do you want to give me a reading so badly?"

"Can I not give a pretty lady a free reading?"

Your eyes narrowed. "If I do this, you'll give my brother another reading?"

"Of course." He grinned, extending his hand. "What do you say?"

"Fine." You give in, shaking his hand.

"Wonderful." He smiled, gesturing to a round table in the middle of the room. "Have a seat."

I can't believe I'm doing this. You thought to yourself.

"I don't want any funny business, Dr. Song."

"Please, call me Mingi. And I can assure you, no funny business."

In a flash, a deck of tarot cards appeared in his hands. He shuffled through them before fanning them out across the table, three of them sticking out from the rest.

"Oh." Mingi gasped. "It seems fate has already picked for you."

That's weird.

You didn't even see him touch the cards. They just moved on their own.

Mingi flipped the cards over, humming to himself. "Interesting."

"What?" You inquired, leaning forward to get a look at the cards.

"You're lonely, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're lonely." He looked up at you, his dark irises boring into yours.

"No. I'm not."

The corner of Mingi's mouth twitched as a breathy chuckle left him. "You are."

"I'm not. I'm content."

"Are you?"

"I..." You trailed off, swallowing.

Were you lonely? You didn't feel lonely. Not all the time, anyway.

"You've never been one for relationships, have you?" Mingi inquired, tapping on the first card.

"How do you know that?"

"I know all. Past, present, and even the future. And it seems to me that you've always been hesitant of getting into relationships. You say you're content now and, while that may be true, you're unhappy." He tapped on the second card, most likely indicating the present.

"I'm not unhappy." You denied.

"Deep down, you are. I see it clear as day." His sharp eyes stayed focused on you.

You didn't like the way he was looking at you. It felt like he was staring right into your soul, reading your every emotion.

"Let's see your future, shall we?"

He glanced down at the third card, his brows raising in fascination .

"Seems like you're going to find love in an unexpected place." Mingi's head tilted, a strand of silvery hair falling over his forehead. "A very unexpected place."

You blinked a few times, waiting for him to continue. "And?"

"That's all."

"What?"

"That's it."

"What will he look like? Where will I meet him? How long will it be until I meet him?"

"I don't know."

"But you said you could see the past, present, and future."

"To a certain extent. I don't know all the details."

You pressed your lips together, feeling slightly peeved. To your disappointment, you couldn't exactly be mad at him. The reading wasn't a bad one, it just wasn't as detailed as you'd hoped. Part of you wanted to hear more, but the other part wanted to leave that place as quickly as possible.

"You seem rather interested for a person who thinks I'm a scam artist." Mingi smirked.

You immediately backpedaled. "I'm not interested. I just expected more detail."

"That's not how my readings work. In fact, that's not how any readings work. You don't always get what you want."

"Well, I let you give me a reading, so a deal's a deal. You give my brother another reading for free. No tricks."

"Of course." He placed one hand over his chest and raised the other. "I assure you, I'm a man of my word."

"We'll see about that." You turned on your heel, ready to leave the establishment.

"Wait. I never got your name."

"You don't need it."

You reached for the doorknob only to have the lock turned by some strange shadow that resembled Mingi. The sight was unsettling and caused you to step away from the entrance.

You glared over your shoulder at Dr. Song.

"Unlock it."

"I'd like your name first."

"It's Y/n."

The door unlocked in an instant.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

You abruptly pulled the door open, ready to leave. You had only taken one step outside when Mingi called out for you again.

"One more thing."

You huffed out a sigh of annoyance as you turned towards the fortune teller.

"Here's my card." He held a small business card between his middle and index finger, offering it to you. "In case you ever need me."

You took the card from him, knowing you'd never use it.

"I'll see you around, my dear." He waved as he watched you leave the shop.

"I get another reading?" Wooyoung asked.

"Yes. No charge."

"Will it be a good one?" He questioned, skeptically.

"He didn't say."

"What if I get a bad reading again?" He whined.

"You should just be thankful he offered you another for free."

"You're right. Thanks for going down there."

"You're welcome."

"So, should we go down there tomorrow?"

"We? No, no, no, no. There is no we. You're going down there alone. I'm not going back there." You denied.

"Why not?"

"He's annoying."

"That's not a valid excuse."

"I don't see why I have to accompany you."

"What if he tries something? Any tricks, I mean."

"He promised no tricks."

"I still want you to come with me."

And that's how you ended up back at Dr. Song's Voodoo Emporium... again.

"I don't wanna do this." You groaned.

"It won't be that bad. We'll be in and out in no time." Wooyoung assured you.

You highly doubted that.

Your annoyingly optimistic brother stepped inside, pulling you with him.

The shop was lit up better than the previous day, allowing you to see all the strange doodads inside: jars lined up on driftwood shelves, bottles of of every shape and size filled with multicolored liquids, books with foreign symbols on the spines, even animal skulls.

"Well, look who's wandered back into my shop."

You rolled your eyes as Mingi stepped from the shadows, making yet another dramatic entrance.

"It wasn't by choice." You stated.

"I'm here for my free reading." Wooyoung spoke up, stupidly unaware of the tension between you and Mingi.

"Ah, yes. Wooyoung, right?"

Your brother nodded.

"Come. Have a seat. Since your last reading for the future was bad, I'll give you a redo for it."

"Sounds good."

You stood off to the side, giving the two some space. From there, you watched Mingi, making sure he didn't pull any tricks.

He pulled out his deck of tarot cards, shuffling them around before presenting them to Wooyoung.

"Pick three cards and we'll see what your future holds."

Your brother's hand hovered over the cards laid out across the tabletop until he selected his first card, then the second, then the third. Each selection was made carefully, as he didn't want to get another bad reading.

"Alright. Let's see what we have here." Mingi hummed, flipping over the first card.

"Oh. This one is good. It means that you'll have some luck."

Mingi then flipped over the second card.

"Mhm." He hummed, with a nod. "This one could mean that there will be a rough patch for you at some point."

Wooyoung frowned.

Mingi flipped over the last card, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, it seems that you'll get through that rough patch and be content in where you are in life."

"Really?" Wooyoung asked.

Mingi nodded.

"What about getting rich? You mentioned that last time before you got me to pay for a reading."

"Ah. Well, I can make that happen for you if you still want it."

Your brows furrowed as you watched their exchange, feeling unsettled by Mingi's words, as well as his shifty behavior.

"Yes!" Your brother answered, enthusiastically. "Is that even possible?"

"Of course it is, Wooyoung. I have friends on the other side that can help me to change your future around."

"Woah. Seriously?"

"Of course. I can make your dreams come true. What do you say?" Mingi extended his hand out towards Wooyoung.

As your brother reached towards Mingi's hand, you saw that shadow from the day before reaching towards Wooyoung. Sensing that something wasn't right, you jumped into action, lunging forward and pulling your naive brother's hand away.

"Don't!"

Wooyoung looked at you with wide eyes and an expression that said, 'What's wrong with you?'

"Are you insane?!" You shrieked.

"No. I'd say I'm the complete opposite actually. I'm about to be rich!"

"No you're not, you idiot. He's trying to trick you. Are you not even the slightest bit worried by these so-called 'friends from the other side'? There could be some serious repercussions to this."

"Uh..." He trailed off.

"Are you seriously going to trust the guy who scammed you?"

His jaw dropped in realization.

"You!" He pointed at Mingi. "You we're trying to trick me again."

"You almost fell for it." He muttered under his breath.

"Unbelievable." You scoffed. "We're leaving."

Wooyoung stood up and the two of you started to walk out.

"Don't be like that." Mingi called out.

"Look, my brother got his free reading and that's that. We're done here."

You didn't allow him any more time to speak as you and Wooyoung left the shop, slamming the door behind you.

"Now do you see why I wanted you to come with me?" Wooyoung asked once the two of you were outside.

"I do. I'm glad I was there, but that doesn't mean I wanted to be."

"You're right. He's a total scam artist."

"I know. Good news is, we won't have to deal with him ever again. You got your free reading, so everything is settled."

Wooyoung gave a nod of finality as the two of you walked away.

You scanned the shelves for any snacks that caught your eye. Wooyoung was in "desperate" need of honey butter chips and annoyed you into going to the convenience store. You figured since you were going out of your way to get his snacks, you might as well get something for yourself.

"Well, would you look at that."

Your brows furrowed at the familiar voice. Turning your head, you spotted someone you didn't expect to see.

Mingi stood at the end of the aisle with one hand resting on his cane and a shopping basket over his other arm, a smug grin on his face.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You muttered.

"What was that?" He asked, walking over.

"Why are you here?" You questioned, ignoring him.

"What does it look like?"

"Stalking."

He chuckled. "Just because we happen to be at the same place at the same time doesn't mean I'm stalking you. You know what I call it?"

"What?"

"Fate."

"Well, I call it annoying." You remarked, walking away.

"Ouch." Mingi hissed. "Those are harsh words."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have shopping to do."

You left the aisle you were in, not wanting to share the same area with that fraud. You relocated to a different aisle, perusing the snacks there, picking up a couple things. To your disappointment, Mingi had followed you.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"Because I have no interest in speaking to you. Nor do I have a reason to speak to you."

"That's a shame."

"Yeah. A real shame." You remarked sarcastically.

You tried, yet again, to get away from him, but to no avail. No matter where you went, he followed.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself? Do you have any hobbies?" He inquired.

"Is that your way of flirting? If so, you're doing a terrible job."

He had that same shameless smirk on his face, letting you know that he didn't care that he was annoying you to no end. You already have Wooyoung harassing you at home, you didn't need another one.

"Come on. I wanna know more about you, darling."

"Don't call me that."

"Why?" He asked, leaning over your shoulder. "Does it make your heart race? Hm?"

"No, it makes me want to throw up."

"You are merciless." Chuckled Mingi. "Don't worry, though. I'm a very persuasive man. I'm sure I could get you to change your tune."

Your patience was wearing thin. You didn't know how much more you could take. This man's incessant questions and flirty remarks were beginning to drive you to madness.

"Look," You started, placing a bag of snacks into your basket. "I'm not interested, okay? Nothing you say and nothing you do will change my mind, got it?"

Mingi's brows raised at your harsh words, but you could see that he wasn't affected by them. In fact, he actually had the audacity to smirk.

"We'll see about that."

Weeks passed and every time you left the house, you ran into Mingi. It didn't matter where you went, he was always there. He had somehow found a way to be exactly where you were every single time—and it was annoying.

Mingi's shadow slipped underneath the front door of his shop, slinking across the walls until it got to the office located in the back.

"Ah. There you are." Mingi greeted. "What have you found out?"

His shadow moved close to him, leaning in, telling him something in a hushed voice.

"What's that?" Mingi asked, leaning closer so he could hear better.

His shadow whispered in his ear, a smirk tugging at Mingi's lips as he listened to the information his shadow provided him.

"Ah. So, she's going to an art festival? Perhaps I'll pay her a visit."

You walked along the sidewalk, browsing the tents set up on the street. There were many different artists selling a wide variety of wares. From uniquely-shaped vases to colorful works of art—they had it all. You enjoyed going places alone every once in a while, so when you heard about a nearby art festival, you knew you had to check it out.

Your fingers ran over a canvas painting, feeling the texture of the pigment. Bright colors were spread across the surface, layered and mixed to make different hues and shadows in the artwork.

"This is a really nice painting." You told the vendor. "How long did it take you?"

"Around 48 hours."

"Woah. That's a lot of work."

"It is." The vendor nodded. "But, I enjoy it, so I don't even realize how much time passes."

You smiled softly.

You loved hearing about the interests and hobbies of others, especially how they enjoy it so much it doesn't feel like work or that they get so immersed in it that they lose track of time.

"Fate just keeps bringing us together."

The soft smile on your face fell immediately.

That better not be who I think it is.

You slowly turned towards Mingi who stood behind you, propped on his cane that he constantly carried with him.

Every time you saw him, he was wearing some sort of vest and jacket, each one with a different pattern or color. Today was no different, except that there were round glasses perched on his nose. You had to admit, the spectacles made him appear softer in a way.

You paused.

The mere thought that Mingi looked softer put you back in your place. You quickly reminded yourself that this man was a scam artist (and a stalker, apparently) and shook away any thoughts about him being remotely soft, pushing them away to the deepest corners of your mind, hoping they wouldn't resurface.

You told the vendor goodbye and wished them luck on their sales before approaching Mingi, your expression cold and void of any emotion except anger and annoyance.

"If you don't quit stalking me, I'm going to call the cops."

"The cops? I'd like to see them try and do something." He chuckled.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I only visited your measly little shop to right a wrong for my brother. The deal is done. I have no business with you any more, so I don't know why you keep following me around."

Mingi tilted his head to the side, an amused expression plastered on his face.

"What do you want from me?" You asked flat-out, not cutting any corners.

"I want you, Y/n."

You weren't expecting that answer at all. You tried to cover up the fact that you were caught off guard, responding in a cold voice.

"You can't have me."

"Is that a challenge?" He raised a brow.

"No. It's a statement."

You turned on your heel, leaving him standing on the sidewalk. You didn't care that you had ditched him. After all, he's the one who encroached on your day out.

A nearby tent caught your attention. The vendor had many intricate wood carvings on display. They were so beautiful that you stopped for a moment to admire them, complimenting the man on his incredible handiwork. You chatted with him for a moment, asking how he makes such complex creations. You ended up purchasing a small keychain with a carving of a skull hanging from it.

You continued down the street, taking a few moments to check out anything that caught your eye. One of those items was a medium-sized canvas with multicolored neon shapes painted on the surface. The background was black, making the vibrant hues stand out. You loved it and you had to have it.

Greeting the woman running the booth, you immediately picked up the canvas, mentioning how much you loved it. After glancing at the price, you decided you would purchase it. You looked down only for a moment, digging through your wallet to retrieve some cash for the lady. You had just counted out the money when a hand extended past you, neatly folded bills held between two slender, ring-clad fingers.

"I got it covered."

The lady took the money, thanking the person. You turned to see Mingi behind you, his tall form leaned over you slightly. You had to keep it together long enough for the vendor to hand you the canvas which had been placed in a plastic shopping bag. You gave her a friendly smile and wished her luck on the rest of her sales before walking away so she wouldn't hear you scream at Mingi.

As much as you wanted to think he bought that for you out of the kindness of his heart, you knew he didn't. He had something up his sleeve.

"Aren't you gonna thank me?" Mingi asked before you had the chance to say anything to him.

"No."

"Ah. Well, I suppose that's fine. However, you do owe me."

"I beg your pardon?" You asked, stopping in your tracks.

"You owe me." He repeated.

"I don't owe you anything."

"Oh, but you do. I just paid for that painting."

"That was your choice. I had nothing to do with it."

"You still owe me."

"You know what?" You muttered, digging through your wallet. You pulled out enough money to cover the cost of the painting, shoving the cash into his chest. He stumbled a bit, placing his hand over the money to keep it from falling.

"I paid you back. We're square now." You told him.

"Did you?" He raised a brow.

You narrowed your eyes at him as he showed you an empty hand. You looked in your wallet, then began patting down your pockets, reaching into one of them, pulling out the wad of cash you'd just given to Mingi.

"Wh-what? How did you—"

"Like I said, you owe me."

"You... you..." Trailing off, you tried to find the right words to describe the man in front of you. "You snake!"

He seemed unfazed by the attempted insult.

"Whatever it is you're wanting me to do, I won't do it." You snapped.

"Spend the day with me." He told you.

"You really think I want to spend the day watching you scam people? No thanks."

"Would you rather do something else? I'm sure I could think of other ways for you to make it up to me." He told you, his eyes looking you up and down.

Your mouth fell open. "You sicko."

"That's not what I meant." He huffed. "Look, I just want you to spend the day with me, that's all. Come hang out at my shop with me."

"I'm not interested." You told him, sternly.

"Excuse me, young lady." Someone called out, catching your attention.

You turned towards the voice to see where it was coming from. A man in a black coat wearing many odd necklaces made of bone stepped out into the street.

"Me?" You pointed to yourself.

"Yes."

"What is it?" You inquired, stepping towards the man's tent, noticing all the unique and odd jewelry he sold.

"You are quite a stunning young woman."

"Oh. Thank you." You responded, thrown off by the strange and sudden compliment.

"I think you'd look lovely wearing this necklace." He grabbed a black velvet box from behind the table, opening it up to show you the product.

The chain was silver and on the end was a unique pendant, one that you'd never seen before. An iridescent stone was encased in intricate, silver designs. The gemstone is what really caught your attention. It changed colors in the light, looking purple from one direction, then a green-ish teal color from the other. But, if you looked at it straight on, it was a mix of colors—it was enchanting.

"It's beautiful." You commented.

"I made it myself." The man told you, removing it from the box. "Go on. Have a look. You can try it on if you'd like."

You stepped forward, your hand reaching for the necklace. Just then, Mingi's hand shot out, grabbing onto your wrist before you could even touch the pendant. You turned to him with a questioning look on your face.

"Sorry, but we're not interested." He told the man in a stern tone, his voice dangerously low.

The vendor gave Mingi a hard glare as you were dragged away.

"What was that about?" You asked once the man was out of earshot.

"There was a bad energy surrounding that necklace." Mingi responded, his face solemn. "It's probably cursed."

"Cursed? Why would someone try to sell me a cursed necklace?"

"There are dangerous people in the world who love meddling with the lives of others."

"Isn't that what you do?"

"No. I help people. Sometimes I have sneaky ways of doing it, but it's nothing like what that man does."

"You both trick people. I don't see the difference." You stated.

"That may be true, but at least I don't try and sell people cursed items."

You were about to tease him for admitting that he indeed scams people, but you knew all along, so there was no need to joke about it.

You did feel a little touched by the fact that he stopped you from getting a malediction from a cursed necklace. You honestly didn't think he had it in him.

"I'll spend the day with you." You spoke up.

"What?" Mingi turned to you, his normally sharp and narrow eyes now wide in surprise, glimmering with hope.

You had to stop yourself from fawning over how insanely adorable his eyes were.

You cleared your throat before repeating yourself. "I'll spend the day with you."

"Really? What made you change your mind?"

"You just saved me from catching a curse. I guess I owe you for that."

The very next day you found yourself standing in Mingi's voodoo shop again, this time on your own volition. You walked around the room, getting a good look at everything inside. If you were going to be there all day, you might as well make the most of it.

He had all sorts of strange knickknacks, trinkets, and novelties. One of those being lucky rabbit foot keychains. You figure that was typical for a voodoo shop. On the driftwood shelf, besides all the strange liquid-filled bottles, there appeared to be elixirs and bath salts, some promising good luck, while others just promised a boost of energy. In a basket under a wall of ominous-looking masks were dozens of voodoo dolls.

"Do people actually use these?" You asked.

"They sure do, my dear." Mingi answered.

"Seriously?" You turned towards him. "Do they work?"

"Would you like to test one and find out?"

You recoiled your hand, not liking how confident his tone was. "No thanks."

"Very well. The offer is still on the table if you change your mind." He hummed, straightening his jacket and smoothing his hair out.

The door to the shop opened, catching your attention. A customer stepped inside, looking around the small building.

"Ah. Welcome." Mingi greeted. "Is there anything I can help you with on this fine morning?"

"I was told you do card readings." The young man spoke.

"I do indeed. Have a seat."

You watched as Mingi's shadow moved across the floor, pulling the chair out for the customer. Every time you saw his shadow move, you got a shiver down your spine. Something wasn’t right. It may be Mingi's shadow, but it seems to have a mind of its own and is beyond his control.

"Am I interrupting something?" The man asked, noticing your presence.

"No. She's just watching me work, that's all." Mingi brushed it off. "So, what would you like to know? Your future? Or maybe there's a certain someone you have your eye on and you want to see if you'll win them over. Hm?" He raised a curious brow.

"Y-yes! How'd you know that?" The man questioned.

"I know everything. I can see right into your heart and soul." He responded, shuffling his tarot cards.

"Wow."

Mingi then began the card reading, holding them out to the customer. He selected his cards and Mingi begin interpreting each one. He shook his head, making a tsk sound.

"Seems like you won't ever get with this girl."

"What?" The man frowned.

"Yes. The cards are telling me that she'll find someone else."

You crossed your arms, upset by the man's reading.

"Aw. Don't look so down." Mingi cooed, placing the end of his cane under the man's chin, using it to lift the his head. "I have something that'll help win her heart."

"Really?" The man's face lit up instantly.

"Of course." Mingi stood from his chair, striding over to a cabinet. He retrieved a small box, carrying it over to the table. He open it up revealing a beautiful necklace with a heart- shaped charm.

"That's beautiful."

"It's powerful too."

"What?"

"The necklace is charmed. If you put it on her, she'll fall in love with you."

"For real?"

Mingi nodded.

"Hm." The man hummed. "Do you have anything else?"

Mingi seemed disappointed, but turned up the charm, smiling brightly. "Of course."

He strode over to the shelf of bottles, retrieving one of them. "How about a love potion?"

You rolled your eyes.

Yeah, right.

"A love potion?" The customer parroted.

"Yes. If you give her some of this, she'll fall for you instantly."

"Really? How do you know?"

"I got it from my friends on the other side. They can make all sorts of magic potions."

"Woah."

Friends on the other side?

He's said that before. As far as you know, you've only seen his shadow, so who are these friends of his?

"How much?" The man asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, grabbing Mingi's attention. You stared at him intently, shaking your head no, silently telling him not to trick that man.

"Excuse me a moment." Mingi walked over to you, making sure you were both far enough from the man that he wouldn't hear.

"What are you doing?" You whispered harshly.

"Business." He responded, plainly.

"No you're not. You're scamming. What's the truth behind that necklace? And that so-called love potion?"

"Well, they both really do work. If he uses the love potion, he has to be the first person she sees. The necklace only works when she's wearing it. And as soon as the necklace is clasped around her neck, her soul immediately belongs to my friends on the other side."

"What?!" You whisper-yelled trying not to completely freak out. "You're gonna let him sell this girl's soul without knowing?"

"If he chooses the necklace, yeah."

"How can you be so nonchalant about this? Do you not have any remorse?"

"I have to please my friends on the other side."

"What?"

"You see, doll. I have these friends—beings, if you will. They help me make things become a reality for people, but they need something in return. I do the bidding for them and give them what they want, and in return, they give me something I want."

"That's sick." You spat.

"It's just business, dear." He brushed you off, returning to his unsuspecting customer.

"So, what do you say?" He asked, taking his place back at the table.

"How much for the necklace?"

"Free of charge." Mingi smiled. "All I ask is payment for the card reading. That's it."

The customer was enticed by the offer and was ready to accept.

Knowing what you know now, you didn't want the poor guy to get caught up in a bigger mess. You stared Mingi down, shaking your head. He stared back, his eyes not leaving yours for a long moment as he reconsidered. Then, before the customer could answer, he spoke up.

"Actually," Mingi started. "Forget the necklace, the potion too. There's another way you can possibly change the outcome of all this."

"Really? How?"

"What you need to do is take her out. Ask her on a date and see where it goes from there."

"Are you sure?"

Mingi nodded. "I can't guarantee that it will work, but it's worth a shot. The sooner you do it, the better. That way no one else snags her before you."

"Okay. I think I can muster up the courage to ask her. Thank you so much." The man smiled, pulling money from his pocket. "I'll definitely try that."

Mingi took the cash from him. "Before you go, take this." He grabbed a rabbit's foot keychain, placing it into the man's hand. "Good luck."

"Wow. Thanks a lot!" The customer beamed, leaving the shop.

As soon as the door closed, the fortune teller turned to you.

"Are you happy? You probably screwed me out of a customer." He grumbled, counting the cash.

You saw his eyes widen before he began to frantically recount the bills in his hand.

"He paid me extra."

"What?"

"He paid me a few dollars more than what I charge." He gaped.

"Really?"

"Yeah. He must have really liked my advice." Mingi smiled, shoving the money into his pocket. "I'm a genius."

"You wouldn't have given that advice had I not stopped you from completely ruining his life."

He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes. "Fine. I suppose you have a point."

Throughout the day, you watched Mingi give readings to people and try to sell them items that you knew had a twisted backstory to them. Somehow, you were able to get him to rethink things and give his customers an actual solution to their problems rather than scamming them into purchasing something that would possibly ruin their lives.

All in all, you'd say your time spent with Mingi wasn't all that bad and you were glad that you were able to possibly save the souls of a few people during your time in the shop.

"Well, today was... enlightening to say the least." You said. "I should go now."

You prepared to leave until Mingi stopped you.

"Would you like something to eat before you go home? You've been here all day and neither of us have eaten. I'll pay."

"You won't use it as an excuse to say I owe you again, will you?"

"No." He shook his head. "Promise."

You were pretty hungry and you couldn't turn down free food, so you agreed. A delivery order was called in shortly. You assisted Mingi in tidying up his shop after a long day while you waited for your meal to be delivered.

Half an hour passed and you found yourself sitting at the round table in the middle of the shop chatting with Mingi while the two of you ate.

"So, what did you think?" Mingi asked, grabbing a large bite of ramen.

"Well, I didn't like how you tried to trick people. I did, however, like what you told them after you chose to be honest."

He couldn't help but feel proud of himself after hearing your words. At first, he was angry that you made him feel guilty for attempting to scam people, but as the day went on, he realized it wasn't so bad. He'd have to find a way to make up for it when he contacts his friends on the other side later, but he wasn't really worried about that at the moment. He was having a wonderful time with you.

Mingi's shadow was agitated that you managed to get in his head and talk him out of striking any deals. The shadow knew you were bad news from the start. You deterred Mingi from doing many tasks, which caused his friends on the other side to become impatient. What happened today would be the cherry on top. They would show him no mercy if he continued this behavior.

"So, the voodoo dolls do work?" You questioned.

"Of course."

"I bet you sell those to people without warning them of the consequences." You commented.

"On the contrary. I actually do warn people before they buy those. I don't want anyone to do something they'll regret."

You looked at Mingi's expression and the way his eyes stared into yours. He was telling the truth.

"Hm. So you do care for your customers." You teased playfully.

He let out a chuckle. "Of course I do."

"This food is great, by the way. Thanks for buying."

"It's the least I could do. I know you didn't exactly want to be here today."

"Actually, if I'm being honest, it wasn't all that bad. Also, I appreciated the way you protected me yesterday when that weirdo tried to sell me a cursed necklace. I felt like I really did owe you."

"I just didn't want you to get yourself in a messy situation. Truth is, I care about you a lot." Mingi admitted.

His words surprised you and made your heart melt at the same time.

Before you could process what was going on, Mingi's shadow lunged for you, knocking you from your chair, pinning you to the ground.

You let out a yelp, struggling to pull yourself off the floor. You couldn't help but wonder how a shadow was so strong.

"Hey!" Mingi shouted. "What are you doing?"

He got up from his seat so fast, his chair nearly fell over. "Get off of her!" He roared, his voice so gravelly and threatening that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, you felt the ghostly grip on your wrists disappear. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, your heart pounding violently against your rib cage.

"Y/n." Mingi panted. "I'm so sorry. I... it's never done that before. I swear I had nothing to do with it."

"I need to go home." You responded, your mind in a haze.

"Wait. Please—"

"I can't handle this." You told him, heading towards the door. "I'm sorry. I need to leave."

That's the last time Mingi saw you.

You were in the middle of cleaning your room, tossing things you didn't want into a donate box and throwing away invoices from past online orders and other paper junk into the trash.

There was a knock on the front door, but you paid no mind to it, assuming your brother would answer it since you had your hands full at the moment.

However, the knocking persisted.

"Wooyoung! Can you not hear there's someone at the door?" You shouted down the hallway.

"Yeah." He called back from the living room.

"Are not gonna answer it? I'm kinda busy."

"You do it. I'm in the middle of a drama."

You let out a long sigh, stomping into the living room.

"Can you not pause it?"

"No." He responded, his eyes glued to the TV.

"You're unbearable." You said through gritted teeth, going to answer the door.

The person on the other side was not who you were expecting.

Mingi stood at your doorstep, his head hanging low. You would have told him to go away had you not noticed he wasn't wearing his usual getup. Instead of his customary vest and cardigan or suit jacket combo, he had on a white dress shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks. It was much more toned-down than the outfits he usually wore.

Before you could open your mouth, he spoke.

"I'm done."

"What?"

"I cut ties with the shadow realm."

"Why?"

"For you."

"For me?" You parroted.

He nodded. "This crooked and shady life I'm living isn't the life I want. Especially if it ends up hurting you."

"This isn't a trick... is it?" You inquired.

He shook his head.

"So, let me get this straight. You cut ties with those friends of yours for me?"

"I did."

"And what about your...shadow?" Your eyes trailed to look at the shape cast along the concrete walkway behind him.

He followed your gaze, noticing your uneasy behavior. "It's gone. Just a normal shadow now. Cutting ties got rid of all the abilities I had."

"I see."

"I'm really sorry about what happened that evening at my shop. I had no control over my shadow. It just attacked without warning. Truthfully, I think it's because it knew—"

"Y/n! Who's at the door?" Wooyoung shouted from the living room, cutting Mingi off.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.

"None of your business!" You shouted back before turning to Mingi. "I'm sorry about him."

"It's fine. Maybe we could just stand outside and talk." He suggested. "That way we have some privacy."

"Good idea."

You stepped outside, closing the front door so Wooyoung wouldn't try to eavesdrop.

"Alright. You were saying?"

"Right. My shadow... I think it knew that I was going soft."

"Going soft?" You inquired.

"Yes." He nodded, taking in a deep breath like he was preparing to say something extremely important. "Y/n, I was drawn to you from the start. I got my shadow to follow you around after you first came to my shop. That's how I always knew where you were. I just wanted to see you any chance I got. Then, my feelings began to get more serious and I wanted to do things to make you happy. I wanted to protect you. I guess my shadow realized that I was becoming soft and drifting from my old ways. It tired to hurt you because it thought you were getting in the way."

There was so much information to take in. Mingi had his shadow follow you? But, he likes you and obviously cares for you. Not only that, but he's changing his ways for you. He cut ties with the shadow realm for you. That's a pretty big commitment.

"You were right for calling me a stalker. In a way, I was. I'm sorry." He apologized.

"Actually, it's okay. Technically, it wasn't you following me. Also, I can see that you've changed drastically. You're not the same voodoo shop owner I met a month ago."

Mingi's heart soared hearing you say that. Knowing that he had, at the very least, earned your trust was a big accomplishment for him.

"So, would you maybe be willing to give us a chance?" He asked, softly, his hands finding yours.

Your eyes landed on your joined hands, looking at the way his large ones encased your smaller ones.

"I think..." You trailed off, looking back up at Mingi. "I think I'd be up for that."

His eyes became wide, looking rounder and more innocent, sparkling with hope.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nodded.

Being caught in the moment, Mingi started to lean in, only to catch himself before he got too close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, softly. His voice barely above a whisper. He didn't want to do anything you weren't okay with.

"You can."

Mingi then closed the narrow gap between your faces, his full and plush lips pressing delicately against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately, melting into the kiss. His large hands let go of yours, holding the small of your back, pulling you against him. The closeness had your heart racing. You had never experienced anything like this before. You were feeling emotions and feelings you had never felt in your life. A rush of heat flooded your body and it felt like butterflies were running rampant in your stomach. All these new feelings were overwhelming but so amazing.

The feeling of Mingi's hands running up and down your back sent tingles up your spine, making you feel warm from the inside out.

Your fingers latched onto the ends of his silvery hair, grabbing at the long strands in the back. Based on the sigh he let out against your lips, he liked that.

After a while, you pulled away, feeling short of breath. You and Mingi stared at each other for a few moments, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. Mingi's partially exposed chest rose up and down with each huff as his hooded eyes stared into yours. Your arms were wrapped around his slim waist, holding him tightly, not wanting to let go.

"You were right." You spoke up, still breathless.

"What do you mean?"

"About finding love in an unexpected place."

You could see Mingi's cheeks tint pink.

That's exactly what he said to you after your card reading. At the time, Mingi could see into the future, but even he didn't know who you would end up with. He had no idea he would be the one.

"I guess I found love in an unexpected place too." He admitted.

"Why do you seem so surprised? I thought you knew everything." You teased with a smirk.

He couldn't help but grin.

"As much as I hate to, I'd better get back inside. You know, before Wooyoung comes out here and starts harassing me."

"Right." Mingi chuckled.

"I'd like to see you again." You told him as you went to open the front door.

"You have my card. Just give me a call." He winked. "We'll sort something out."

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Wooyoung: ⟡ Jongho:

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Not even ours (3/3) - Lewis Hamilton

Sequence: It comes with the territory / Hardest truth / Not even ours

This one can be read as a one-shot, but some context might be lost.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angst, pure angst

wordcount: +2k

a/n: Right person wrong time. It's gonna hurt, sorry.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

She hadn’t spoken to her friend in weeks, maybe months.

It wasn’t on purpose, not at first, but as time passed, she had found it easier to shut everyone out. It wasn’t personal—at least, that’s what she told herself—but somewhere along the way, she’d pushed her away, too.

Y/n sat across from her friend in the café, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her cup, the weight of her decision hanging in the air like a storm cloud she couldn’t escape.

Her throat felt tight. Their eyes holding onto each other’s with a tenderness she hadn’t seen in so long, and it made something inside her ache.

Her friend tilted her head, watching Y/n with a careful, concerned expression. "You seem... lost," she said gently, her voice cutting through the dull hum of the café.

Y/n opened her mouth to respond but found herself swallowing the words that sat on the edge of her tongue.

Lost. Yes, that was exactly how she felt.

But how could she explain to someone else what she hadn’t even fully admitted to herself?

"Do you remember when we used to come here every week, no matter how busy we were?" her friend continued, a small smile playing on her lips. "We’d talk about everything, laugh about the dumbest things. It feels like you’ve... disappeared. Where’s my Y/n gone?"

That question.

Y/n had asked herself the same thing, in front of the mirror, in the middle of the night, and every time she forced herself to smile when she felt like falling apart.

Where had she gone?

Y/n sighed, rubbing her temples as the weight of it all pressed down on her. “I’m fine. Really.”

But her friend wasn’t buying it. “Are you? Because the Y/n I know wouldn’t let herself disappear like this.”

That hit harder than she expected.

She could feel her chest tighten, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. And she wanted to be angry, to lash out, to defend herself—but there was no point.

Her friend wasn’t wrong.

“I’m just… going through some stuff,” she admitted, her voice sounding small even to herself.can

She reached across the table, her fingers grazing Y/n’s. “You don’t have to go through it alone. But you have to take a step back and figure out if this is really making you happy.”

Happy? She almost laughed at the word, but it caught in her throat.

Happy.

When was the last time she’d even thought about that? About whether she was happy in this whirlwind she’d been caught up in?

“I…I don’t know” she whispered, the truth spilling out before she could stop it and it tasted bitter, like an admission of failure.

She looked up at her, her heart heavy. She wasn’t angry, not really, but the realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

She had been losing herself—slowly, without even noticing. And now… She wasn’t sure there was anything left to hold onto.

The other woman’s grip tightened on Y/n’s hand. “Then it’s time to figure that out.”

When she got home everything was too quiet.

Too calm, almost.

The walls felt like they were closing in on her, and she couldn’t stop the pressure building in her chest.

She needed to let it out.

Lewis was in the living room, casually flipping through sheets of data, completely unaware of the storm brewing a few steps from him.

Y/n stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. The sight—so familiar, so calm— made something inside her snap.

“You just… you just sit there,” She blurted out, her voice shaking with the suddenness of her own words. “Like everything’s fine. Like we’re fine. How can you do that?”

He looked up, confused, the papers still in his hand. “Y/n, what—what are you talking about?”

She paced the room, her hands shaking as she tried to find the words.

But they wouldn’t come.

All she had was the overwhelming need to scream, to lash out, to do something, anything, that would make the suffocating feeling go away.

“I don’t know!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore, Lewis. I just—”

Her throat closed up, and the rest of the words stuck, tangled in a mess of emotions she couldn’t unravel.

He stood up, his face etched with concern as he approached her slowly. “Hey, hey… come here.” He reached for Y/n, his hands gentle, trying to calm her, but it only made the frustration worse.

“No!” she jerked away, tears stinging her eyes as she pushed his arms back. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to fix this! I’m not some problem you can just solve.”

He blinked, hurt flickering across his face. “Y/n, I’m not trying to—”

“I don’t even know what you’re trying to do!” she cut him off, the words spilling out faster than she could stop them. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I feel like I’m drowning, and you—you don’t even notice.”

His brows furrowed, and he stepped closer again, this time slower, more deliberate. “I notice,” he whispered, his voice pained. “I notice every single day.”

The raw honesty in his voice broke something in her.

Her shoulders slumped, and she felt her resolve start to crumble.

He reached again, his arms wrapping around her this time, and she let him. Sagging into his chest, but it wasn’t comfort she was seeking.

Everything felt like too much. The air in the room was too thick, her skin too tight, her thoughts too loud.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

All she knew was that the ache in her chest was unbearable, and if she didn’t do something—anything—she was going to fall apart right here in front of him.

Without thinking, without pausing to consider what she was doing, Y/n surged forward, her lips crashing against his.

It wasn’t a kiss born of passion or love—it was frantic, desperate, a plea for something solid in a world that felt like it was falling apart.

She poured everything she had left into the kiss, as though if she could just hold him close enough, she could escape the storm raging inside her.

Her fingers dug into his shirt, clinging to him like he was her lifeline, the only thing keeping her from sinking.

But instead of comfort, all she felt was the growing panic that even this wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

His hands came up to cup her face, but instead of pulling her closer, he held her in place.

His lips stilled, unmoving, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched hers, a with a mix of sorrow and pity.

“Y/n, stop” he whispered, his voice firm, and the words hit her like a blow.

He was looking at her like he understood, like he knew what she was trying to do, but it only made it worse.

He knew, and still, he wouldn’t let her try and run from this.

His eyes were filled with so much hurt, so much confusion, but he held her gaze. “This isn’t what you need right now. This isn’t what we need.”

His voice wasn’t harsh, but the rejection still cut deep.

Tears filled her eyes as she stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

But it was no use. Everything was spinning, and now she didn’t even have him to anchor her.

“You don’t know what I need.” she spat, her voice sharp and bitter, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren’t true.

He knew her better than anyone, and that was the problem. He knew she was falling apart, and he wouldn’t let her use him to keep pretending everything was okay.

She wiped her mouth, feeling foolish, like she had just tried to put a Band-Aid on a wound that was too deep to heal with a kiss.

It wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough. Not for him. Not for herself.

She couldn’t tell how long she locked herself in the bedroom for, curled up on the corner, her mind racing and heart aching.

It felt like hours when there was the knock on the door.

“Y/n?” her friend’s voice was gentle, cautious. “Let me come in.”

Y/n didn’t respond, but after a moment, she creaked the door open, and the woman stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room before landing on her trembling figure.

She couldn’t even look at her. She didn’t want her friend to see her like this—so lost, so broken. But she didn’t push. She sat down next to Y/n on the floor, the silence between them heavy.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Y/n mumbled; her voice hoarse.

Her friend nodded, her hand finding Y/n’s and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore” Y/n choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how I got here.”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears started to fall, and before she knew it, she was sobbing, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her.

The pain and confusion spilling out in waves.

Her friend rubbed her back, her touch gentle. “It’s okay to feel lost, Y/n. But you don’t have to stay lost.”

When the tears finally stopped, she stood up, giving one last reassuring look. “I’m just a call away if you need me.”

Y/n found Lewis outside in the garden, sitting on the edge of the patio, staring out into the darkness. The night air was cool, and she could hear the distant hum of traffic, as though the world beyond their little bubble had no idea it was falling apart.

“Lewis,” she called softly, stepping outside.

He turned at the sound of her voice, but didn’t rise. His face was unreadable, but his eyes—those eyes she had once found so comforting—looked tired, worn out by the weight of what neither of them wanted to say.

She swallowed hard as she walked toward him, her footsteps slow, each one more difficult than the last.

She didn’t sit down right away, just stood beside him, looking at the familiar outline of his form against the night, the way his hands rested limply in his lap, as though even they had given up.

For a moment, the silence between them felt like a chasm—an endless stretch of space that neither of them could cross.

It hung there, heavy and suffocating.

"I don’t think I can keep doing this," she choked out, the tears she had been holding back from him finally breaking free.

Her voice was raw, each word scraping painfully out of her like she was admitting to a failure she didn’t want to face.

His hand stilled and the night went quiet, the silence deafening.

She could feel his breath hitching, the weight of her words sinking in. His face was stricken, heartbreak written in every line of his expression.

He stood slowly, his brows furrowing as he took in her words, as if he hadn’t really heard her. "Y/n—"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she interrupted, her hands shaking. “What happened earlier, that’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be. And you don’t deserve someone who can’t keep up, who’s falling apart.”

She took a breath, trying to steady herself, but it wasn’t working. The truth was out, and it hurt so much more than she thought it would.

Lewis stepped toward her, his arms reaching out as if to steady her, to hold onto her, but she shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please don’t.”

The look in his eyes almost undid her.

He was breaking, too. She could see it—how much this hurt him, how much he was holding back.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stood there, staring at each other, neither wanting to be the first to walk away.

“You deserve better,” she whispered, her voice cracking. "I’ve lost myself, Lewis. I’m not me anymore, and I don’t know how to find my way back. I love you so much, but I can’t keep drowning like this."

He let out a shaky breath, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for her but didn’t trust himself to move. “I noticed” he whispered finally. “I noticed every single day.”

His voice broke, and Y/n could see the raw pain in his eyes—the realization that this wasn’t something he could fix now.

His hand then found her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

She leaned into his touch, savoring it, knowing this was the last time she’d feel it.

And she closed her eyes, the memories of their life together flashing before her—the way he used to laugh when she teased him about his messy habits, the late-night conversations that seemed to go on forever.

They had built so much together, but somewhere along the way, she had lost herself and their lives with it.

“This… this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “But no love is worth losing my sanity over. Not even ours.”

His breath hitched, and Y/n could feel the conflict in him—the pain of wanting to hold on but knowing he couldn’t.

"I don’t want to lose you" he whispered; his voice thick. "But I can’t see you like that, Y/n..."

Her heart shattered at his words. She reached for him, her fingers brushing against his skin, warm and familiar, and it took everything in her not to pull him into her arms and never let go.

"I love you too much to keep pretending everything’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m falling apart, and it’s not fair to you.”

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, his breath shaky. “I don’t want to let you go” he whispered, his voice so broken it made her chest ache.

Tears spilled freely down her face as she shook her head, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. "I know," she whispered. "I don’t want to go either. But I can’t stay. Not like this."

He swallowed hard, his other hand guiding her chin so she was looking into his eyes.

The way he looked at her—the way his eyes, brimming with unshed tears, locked onto her—was like he was seeing Y/n for the first and the last time all at once.

"I’ll miss you" he breathed as he embraced her, the soft tremor in his voice shaking her.

"I’ll miss you too" she whispered, the words tasting like ashes on her tongue.

She tried to keep herself together, but the cracks in her heart were spreading, deepening, until she could barely breathe.

"I wish..." he breathed into her hair, his voice thick with emotion, but then he stopped, his words dying in the air.

"I know" she whispered, her heart breaking all over again.

There were so many things they wished for, so many things they wanted, but none of them mattered now. And they both knew it.

The quiet that settled between them was full of everything they couldn’t say, everything they were too afraid of.

She wanted to tell him that she wished things were different, that she wished she was stronger. but she couldn’t.

All she could do was hope that this wouldn’t hurt as much in a few weeks. But deep down, she knew it would.

Tears welled up in her eyes for the last time when she stepped away from him for the last time "I need you to know it’s not your fault, Lewis. You’ve been nothing but amazing."

His thumb brushed over the arm he could reach, almost as if he was drawing comfort from the motion. "It doesn’t make it easier, though, does it?"

She shook her head. "No. It doesn’t."

She wanted to stay like this forever, to keep holding on to him, but she knew she shouldn’t. They had already decided this was the end, and dragging it out would only make it hurt more.

"I should go" she whispered, voice cracking.

"I know" he replied, though the words felt like daggers.

She wanted to beg for him to get her to stay, but that wouldn’t be fair.

He shifted slightly, untangling their fingers, and the loss of that connection made her heart stutter.

She watched as he slowly backed away, his eyes still locked on her, like he was trying to memorize every detail of her face before it was too late.

As she turned to leave, her steps felt heavy, each one more painful than the last. She glanced over her shoulder, catching one final glimpse of him—standing there, watching her with that sad, broken smile.

He looked back, his eyes heavy with pain, and for a brief moment, she thought he might say something more, something to make this easier.

But he didn’t.

And then she was gone.

She had never felt so hollow, so empty. She had never known that love could hurt this much.

But now she did.

______________________________________________________________

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[warping-realities]

What She Wants

I know I promised the previous one would be the last one for a while but I had a video that I not use in one of the last stories and ended up creating a shorter one just so as not to waste it. I hope you like it.

Cherisse was pissed off. At her old schoolmates and at herself. The five-year reunion was coming up next weekend, and she was gonna have to show up all alone. She never really gave a damn about this kind of stuff, always focused on her career. But then, why the hell did she lie about having a boyfriend? She knew why—those bitches Brenda and Destiny with their pathetic little housewife lives and their useless husbands loved to say that because she was a bodybuilder, no guy would wanna date her. I mean, what kind of dude would go out with a woman bigger than him? That thought made her wanna scream, but those bitches had a point. Even the male bodybuilders ended up choosing curvier, less muscular women, which really pissed her off. The fact that she was so close to becoming a big star in the bodybuilding scene should’ve been enough to ease her doubts, but it wasn’t. In reality, she was so fed up with everything that she dropped her apartment key on the floor of the hallway in the tiny building she lived in, thanks to her job as a Personal Trainer. At least for now, since she had contracts lined up with several big brands by the time she stepped on Olympia stage in a few months, which was what she should’ve been worrying about. Frustrated and angry, she picked up the key from the floor and stood up, only to see David, her neighbor, walking by. The blond thin and extremely cute guy worked at a nearby coffee shop and was always super polite to her, even though any flirting attempts on him had been shot down.

She knew she couldn’t make him like her or… could she? Remembering the times she got shot down by the guy, combined with the frustration about the upcoming event and the possibility of being ridiculed by her old classmates… all of that lit a fire inside her that made her decide to take action. She’d been warned a bunch of times not to mess with her gift, that it could spiral out of control and come with a high price, but she was tired of being the good girl, tired of being humiliated. It was time to think about herself. She will get what she wanted.

….

After a long day at the coffee shop, all David wanted was to flop down on the couch in his tiny one-bedroom apartment and chill, and maybe, just maybe, look for a hookup on Grindr. After throwing on a tank top and some shorts, he was about to head out of his room when he heard a noise—there was someone else in the apartment. Creeping up to the door, he was freaked out and jumped.

“Cherisse, what the hell! What are you doing here? What you want?

“What I want, David? I want my boyfriend!” The muscular black woman replied, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I want my boyfriend, David. My boyfriend who loves me and would do anything for me!”

“Cherisse… you’re out of your min…” David started to say, cutting himself off as a weird sensation flooded his body, like he was about to choke, making him gasp for air. Then he was shocked to hear his own voice while his mouth moved on its own.

“But that’s what you already have, babe.”

“Not enough! I want my boyfriend, bigger, more muscular, and stronger than me.”

The choking feeling hit him again, this time harder, along with a dizzy spell that made David wobble for a second. After a few seconds, he seemed to recover. With his giant biceps and powerful pecs on display, he looked a few inches shorter, with shaved hair and a square face, wich smiled to Cherisse.

“Stronger and more muscular for sure, and two inches taller!”

“No, I want more! I want my bodybuilder boyfriend, way bigger than me, my boyfriend with beautiful dark hair and a darker skin.”

In an instant, the bodybuilder David underwent a transformation, turning into a caramel-skinned version with brown eyes and well-kept dark hair and beard, maybe of Latin descent.

“Much better! Take off those shorts and pose for me, David!”

He obeyed, stripping down to just his underwear and flexing his powerful muscles for his girlfriend to see.

“Yummy, but I still want more.” She commented licking her lips without noticing the change in her voice and vocabulary. “I want my boyfriend with delicious choclate skin as dark as mine. My professional bodybuilder boyfriend, Mr. Olympia material boyfriend. My boyfriend who fulfills all my needs and will accompany me to my school reunion, and make all the jealous bitches shut up they skunk mouths. Now come, come to me, my love,” she said, as the uncontrolled power took over completely.

As the muscular giant, who minutes ago had been a gay dude just looking for a casual hookup, walked from the bedroom door towards her, with each step he took, he grew larger while his skin darkened to a chocolate tone. His pecs looked like two slabs of meat, his abs lost some definition, but his arms swelled to the size of tree trunks. As sweat dripped down his body, his black wavy hair transformed into small curls in a stylish cut with shaved sides, while his underwear turned into gym shorts, and the tiny apartment room morphed into a spacious mansion living room.

While all this was happening and the power dominated Cherisse’s mind, she didn’t notice that her short hair, which had fallen out due to steroid use started to grow back in beautifull well manteined curls while her voice gained an airy melodious tone. As the former David grew bigger, she shrank, her powerful muscles becoming smaller but defined, while her glutes became curvier and her breasts softer. Then, as the monstrous off-season bodybuilder stood smiling in front of her, her clothes evaporated, leaving her in a tiny bikini that showcased all her perfect curves. Finnaly the whirlwind of power seemed to reach its peak before fading away forever while the reality reset.

The smile on the behemoth's face quickly vanished when he noticed his girlfriend posing in the middle of their living room.

“Can I ask what the hell you’re doing, Cherisse?”

“Babe… I… I thought you’d be back later.”

“I decided to surprise my girlfriend, and guess who’s getting surprised? Don’t tell me you’re back to that ridiculous idea of competing in Bikini Fitness. I’ve already been clear with you about that. You don’t need to work, especially not by exposing your body; I’m the one who takes care of all my wife’s needs.”

“Wife? What do you mean?”

“Well, that was the surprise I was gonna pull on you, but it looks like…”

“Stop being silly, I was rehearsing, yeah, but it was just for you, my love.”

“Now you’re talking like my future wife,” he replied, with his smile returning.

….

That weekend, Cherisse was bursting with joy. As her boyfriend parked the car, she rushed over to meet her old school friends, Brenda and Destiny, in the garden of the beautiful restaurant they class picked for the high school reunion. After some kisses, hugs, and excited squeals, Brenda looked at her curiously.

“Is that on your finger what I think it is?”

“Yup!!! He proposed to me!!”

“So, we’re finally gonna meet your boyfriend… sorry, your fiancé?”

“Yeah, look over there,” Cherisse said, making her friends look at the handsome specimen of a man strutting confidently towards them—300 pounds of pure muscle covered in a beutifull chocolate skin, wearing a light gray suit with a vest and a shirt whose last buttons could never stay closed, showing off a gorgeous chest. All of this was topped off by a rugged face that could make knees weak.

“Girls, this is Deshaun, my fiancé,” she said, knowing the others would be dying of envy.

Later, as her friends walked in, Deshaun pulled her close.

“Are you happy, my love? I know how important this reunion was for you.”

“Happy? I’m totally fucking ecstatic, babe. I showed those bitches who’s the best. I’ve got the best house, the best body, and the best man. What more could I want?”

[shitsndgiggs]

Kenan Yildiz coming back from a game and he finds his girlfriend having a panic attack and he tries to calm her down but it doesn’t work so he keeps kissing her till she’s calm. Ending in him cuddling her telling her how much he loves her .

A/N: I ended up making this more angsty than fluffy

IN HIS ARMS - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan helping you through a panic attack

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I sat on the floor in the middle of the living room, my back pressed against the couch, hands trembling as I tried to breathe through the tightness in my chest.

It felt like the walls were closing in, my heart racing uncontrollably. Every breath I took felt too shallow, like I couldn’t get enough air, and my head spun with the overwhelming sensation of panic.

This wasn't the first time I'd had a panic attack, but it still felt just as terrifying every time. Usually, Kenan was there to help calm me down, but tonight he was at his game, and I was alone.

Then, I heard the door creak open, followed by the familiar sound of Kenan dropping his gym bag on the floor. I barely registered his footsteps, my mind clouded with panic.

"Y/N?" His voice was soft at first, but when he saw me, the panic in his own voice became clear. "Baby? What’s wrong?"

He rushed over, dropping to his knees in front of me, eyes wide with worry. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

I couldn’t answer. My throat felt tight, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I tried to open my mouth, but nothing came out except for quick, shallow breaths. The more I tried to calm myself, the worse it got.

Kenan’s panic skyrocketed. His eyes darted over me, like he was searching for some external injury, something he could fix. "Y/N, breathe, baby. Please, just breathe. You’re okay."

I could see the fear in his eyes now. He had no idea how to help, and it was making him just as frantic. He grabbed my hand, his grip firm, but it didn’t stop the shaking.

"Do you need water? Do you want to lie down? Do you want me to call someone?" He was rambling, his own panic mixing with mine. "I don’t—please, tell me what to do, baby."

I tried to focus on his voice, but it was like I was trapped in my own head. My vision was blurry from the tears that had started to spill over, and I was gasping for air, trying desperately to breathe normally.

Kenan ran a hand through his hair, his breath coming out shaky now. "Okay, okay, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m right here." He knelt down fully, pulling me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me like he was shielding me from the world.

His voice broke when he spoke again. "Y/N, I don’t know what to do. Please, talk to me."

The panic in his voice only made me cry harder, and I buried my face in his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline.

My breaths were coming in quick, painful bursts, and Kenan’s hand cupped the back of my head, pulling me even closer.

Then, something shifted. He stopped panicking, his arms tightening around me as he began kissing the top of my head. "It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you. You’re safe."

He kissed my forehead, then my temple, his lips lingering on my skin. "I’m here. Just breathe with me. You’re okay."

The kisses were slow, gentle, like he was trying to coax me back to reality with every touch. I could feel his heart racing beneath my hands, his chest rising and falling in time with his deep breaths, and slowly, slowly, I started to match them.

His lips trailed down to my cheek, brushing softly against the skin wet from my tears. "You’re okay, Y/N. You’re safe."

The panic was still there, but it wasn’t as overwhelming now. His kisses were like an anchor, pulling me back, grounding me.

He kept kissing me, over and over—on my cheeks, my jaw, the corner of my mouth, each one slower than the last.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to my lips. It was barely a touch, but it was enough to remind me of where I was—who I was with.

The tightness in my chest began to ease, my breaths becoming less labored. The shaking in my hands stopped, replaced by a deep exhaustion that hit me all at once.

Kenan pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine. "You’re okay now?"

I nodded, too tired to speak, but I could see the relief flood his face. His hands were still trembling a little, and I realized just how scared he had been.

"You scared me," he admitted quietly, his voice shaky. "I didn’t know what to do."

"I’m sorry," I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying.

He shook his head immediately. "No, don’t apologize. Just… don’t scare me like that again, okay?" His voice cracked a little, and it broke my heart to see him like this—so worried, so panicked.

"I won’t," I promised, my head resting against his chest again. I could feel his heart slowly calming down now, the thumping in his chest becoming steadier.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice small but filled with gratitude.

"You don't have to thank me," he said softly, holding me a little tighter. "I love you, Y/N. I'd do anything for you."

I smiled against his chest, my heart swelling with love for this man who had become my entire world. "I know."

[wesleysniperking]

Usopp, Representation, and the Black Experience: My Perspective (maybe TL;DR)

Disclaimer: This post reflects my personal interpretation and connection with Usopp's character. I understand that not everyone may share the same perspective, and that's okay. This is just my own take based on my experiences and thoughts about identity and representation.

When it comes to Black characters, I’ve noticed a recurring theme where they often distance themselves from their non-Black friends or take time away due to personal struggles. It’s a reflection of the weight they carry, and sometimes there’s even some regret for doing so. I can think of plenty of shows that have touched on this, and honestly, I get it. A lot of Black people, myself included, feel the need to face things alone, likely because of deep-rooted issues tied to our history, upbringing, and the challenges of navigating predominantly non-Black spaces—especially when tokenism is involved.

I’ve been that person, and in many ways, I still am. My sister and mom often joke that Usopp feels like a Black guy with a lot of “white” friends. They also mention how Black men, especially those in subcultures like the hipster scene, often juggle two social circles. My cousin, a big One Piece fan, is the perfect example of this. Even Jacob Gibson, who plays Usopp in the live-action series, gives off a similar vibe.

I know this might come off as blunt or even as a generalization, but to me, Usopp reflects a part of the Black experience. He’s like the Lando (or Finn) in Star Wars, Link Hayes in The Mod Squad, Noah in Young Riders, and Marcellus in The Originals. He’s the Renee in Ally McBeal, Tucker in Danny Phantom, Black Panther in Avengers, Cyborg in Teen Titans, Gerald in Hey Arnold, James Rhodes in Iron Man, Chris Washington in Get Out, Ben in Night of the Living Dead, and Christopher in Scrubs. He’s that Black guy.

Maybe One Piece could show Usopp as more than just his race, but it’s hard to ignore the connection. And that’s okay. It’s something I’ve been reflecting on for a while, and I wanted to share it.

GIF credit

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Why Writing Is So Lonely | Rin T.

Hello writers, and anyone else who uses Tumblr on a daily basis like me. (Although I’ve been inactive off and on.) It’s me, Rin, and I wanted to talk about something that I think a lot of us struggle with. Or at least anyone, and everyone who considers themselves writers.

The loneliness that can come with the writing life and being a writer. We spend so much of our time alone. It doesn’t matter if you're using your laptop or scribbling in notebooks. Or pacing around in your living room and muttering dialogue to yourself (which I'm completely guilty of.)

Writing is really a solitary passion, and it hasn't just recently been like that. I'm sure Jane Austen and Edgar Allen Poe dealt with similar feelings. And sometimes that isolation can take a real toll that many of us choose to ignore, both on our creativity, our passion, which I assume is writing in this case, and our mental health.

I’ve been writing for about 4 years now, mostly working on my own little passion projects that I plan on publishing and side hustles, not only for my writing project but also my blog (TheWrite AdviceForWriters). I’m currently knee-deep in 4 different novel drafts that I’m absolutely in love with. However, let me tell you. It can get Very lonely a lot of times. There are days when I feel like I’m the only person in the world who cares about these made-up characters and their fictional problems. The characters I create in my mind are so vivid that they seem like the only individuals who actually care about my passion. (They technically are, considering they are basically my passion.)

It’s so easy to start wondering whether anyone will ever want to read the stories I'm pouring my heart into. The self-doubt I get has been a big part of my writing journey, and sometimes it breaks my heart knowing that I may not please everyone who reads my stories. That I possibly could get the worst reviews out there on my book. If it's not perfect for society. For example, I have been reading and receiving news on Alex Aster and the amount of bad reviews she received for her LightLark novel, and she has had a few times where she’s stated she poured her heart into it. And it's not just Aster who deals with these as a published author; there are many others, and it sometimes scares me.

But you know what? I've come to realize that this loneliness is just part of the writer’s journey. And that it truly is going to be the process of every writer’s journey and career. It’s going to be one of the prominent challenges we have to face if we want to do this crazy, wonderful, painful thing we call writing. And I think it's important we talk about it, especially since I'm a blogger who owns a blog specifically for writers. The biggest reason I chose to create this blog was for this reason and the many other challenges of being a writer. 

I definitely will consider this blog post to be a discussion, and if anyone wants to reblog or reply to this blog post and start a conversation, please do so, just so we can support each other and figure out healthy ways to cope.

So, why is writing such a lonely pursit? Well, there are quite a few reasons, especially reasons for each individual writer; however, here are a few key reasons:

The Act Itself is Solitary.

At the end of the day, writing is something we have to do on our own. Sure, we can brainstorm with other writers and friends who write or get feedback from beta readers. Or even develop  and edit your manuscript with a professional book editor. But the actual act of putting words on the page is a solo endeavor. We’re the ones doing the typing, the (physical) writing, and the constant racking of our brains to find the perfect word or phrase to put down on paper or the blank page on a screen.

Even when we’re writing collaboratively, there’s still a certain level of isolation involved. I mean, after all, our individual writing process and creative visions have to align for the collaboration to work.

And let’s be real—aligning those things isn't always easy.

I’ve reached out to book editors, more so of developmental editors, which is an editor who guides the writer/author on the actual plot and outline of the novel itself. And they have mentioned the difficulties of needing to align with the creativity of the topic or novel. It isn't easy at all.

I know that for me, my most productive writing sessions happen when I'm alone. And I know for a fact I'm not alone on that.

Having no distractions when it's just me, my thoughts, and the blinking cursor on the screen with a Spotify playlist playing in the background. And while that can be deeply fulfilling and very productive, I will admit it can be incredibly lonely.

It's an Emotionally Draining Process.

Writing isn't just about stringing words together. It's about pouring our hearts and souls onto the page. Were digging into our deepest emotions, our biggest fear, our wildest dreams, our thoughts, our philosophy, I can go on. And that kind of vulnerability can be utterly exhausting.

When I'm in the process of drafting a new novel or the many current projects I'm working on. I often find myself emotionally drained at the end of the day. I've been living and breathing these characters, feeling their joys and pains as my own. describing the actions, words, and emotions these characters do and feel. And then after that, I have to close my laptop, put my pen and notebook away, and try to reenter the “real world"—a world that doesn’t always understand the weight I've been carrying. 

It can be so isolating, feeling like the only person who understands the emotional journey of your writing. Knowing what it feels like to create characters and their stories and emotions and personalities just as if they were real humans. Our non-writer friends and family members try their best to be supportive, but unless they experience it firsthand, they cannot fully grasp the depth of what we go through. I can tell when I explain my projects to others who aren't writers, it can sometimes feel like they don't care about what I'm saying to them. Or it can also feel like, my stories are just a synopsis for an underrated movie no one’s ever watched.

It's a Profession of Rejection

I think we all know, writing is a tough gig. It's a tough career and job. Even the most successful authors have had to face their fair share of rejection. The rejections can be received from agents, publishers, readers, or critics. (like I mentioned earlier), and that constant stream of “no’s” can really chip away at our confidence and sense of self-worth. And especially if you're an aspiring author and have not yet published your work. Knowing that rejection is a big part of the career of writing is frightening. Really.

I remember when one of my best friends, who is a writer, who is currently in the process of publishing her book, would send query after query only to receive endless rejections. She told me it felt like the entire world was telling her, “Your writing isn't good enough,” and that can be a pretty lonely and demoralizing place to be. It has made me anxious about getting to the querying phase, as I still haven't begun to query yet.

Even when we start to find some success, the fear of rejection never really goes away. Will readers love our next book as much as the last one? Will readers even like my debut novel? Will the critics tear it apart? I know when I first started writing my first novel project. I rewrote the first chapter. 13 times!! And that’s because of all the questions and doubts I had in mind. It’s enough to make any writer want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

And the thing is, as writers, we often don't have the same support system that people in other professions might have. We don't have coworkers to commiserate with or a boss to reassure us; it’s just us. Our doubts and the eerie silence of an empty inbox. For example, Ana Neu, one of my all-time favorite Author-Tuber's, has dealt with similar struggles. She’s mentioned several times how lonely she feels and how her family doesn't fully understand her love and passion for writing. And I completely agree with her. If you want to listen to more of her, please listen to her podcast and watch her videos on YouTube here.

So, now that I went over the key reasons as to why writing is so lonely, I didn't want to end this post on negativity, that’s why I wanted to list the main strategies that have helped me:

Build a Writer’s Community

One of the best ways to combat the isolation of writing is to surround yourself with other writers. That’s why I found social media to be a gift, not just for the other obvious reasons, but because we get to find writers around the world who enjoy the same things we like. Having that sense of community can be a game changer.

When I first started my Tumblr blog, TheWriteAdviceForwers, I was really hoping to create that kind of supportive space for writers. I wanted to create a space where anyone who enjoys writing—not just fiction writers, but anyone who finds writing to be a passion of theirs—can share their dreams and struggles with. It's been amazing to connect with so many incredible people who just “get” the unique challenges we face. Being able to share our achievements and share our compassions. It's been vital for my own mental health as a writer, and I hope that it can also be vital for all of you.

And of course, the community is not about venting or seeking validation from others; its about providing feedback, encouragement, and just being able to make friends. Having that makes the lonely parts of the writing process and journey feel a little less lonely.

Prioritize Self-care

It's so easy to get caught up in the work and neglect our well-being. There have been multiple times where I wouldn't take a break from my writing sessions and simply not eat and drink. I wouldn't give myself time to process everything I wrote, and I immediately after would criticize it.

However, I find that self-care is the most important part of combating the isolation that comes with being a writer. For me, that looks like making sure I get enough sleep. You can't process, learn, and remember anything when you don't have enough sleep. During my personal self-care, when I do 45-to 1-hour writing sessions, I usually take a short nap after. Eating nourishing meals and snacks is important, as is making time for the hobbies and activities that bring me joy. I usually like reading books, spending quality time with my family members, and very feisty (and sometimes scary) cat.

3. Cultivate Gratitude

When loneliness starts to creep in, it can be really helpful to shift our mindset and focus on what we are grateful for; this can be really productive and rewarding. Being a writer is a gift; we get to spend our days doing what we love, bringing our creative visions to life and sharing them with people who love literature. Readers are such a big part of being a writer, and they're huge motivations to me.

So, if you can, just take a moment to appreciate the joys of writing. For example, if you have any writing quirks, I personally have to wear bracelets on both of my wrists in order to produce some type of creativity when I write. I'm not sure why it's just something I noticed. I also really love writing my manuscripts physically. I tend to do this when I'm suffering from writer's block, and for some reason my writing style is a lot better.

And don't forget the many other joys of writing, like drafting, and the excitement of sharing your work with others. Having a new idea come to mind that fits perfectly in your plot. Or even a reader or beta reader sharing a comment on your work and giving you encouragement.

Also, please celebrate your wins; it makes writing all too fun, and it's a great way to integrate writing into the real world.

End Note

I wanted to write this post because I know a lot of us deal with feeling lonely; I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time, and I wanted to share it with Tumblr. I feel like each and every one of you all feel the same way. And that’s why I created my Tumblr community; that's the reason I created this blog, and that's the reason I strive to build this into an entire brand.

I want to bring more awareness to writers, we are the people behind the stories, movies, and media that we consume today, and we barely get any credit for our work. I want to make a brand where others who never thought writing to be their passion could actually for once consider “Is writing for me?”

I feel like it's such an underrated yet overrated passion. Yet it's not acknowledged as much. 

I hope this post can make you understand that writing is 90% lonely and you are not crazy for thinking so. But, we can use the resources we have today, like social media, to change that and make writing better for the present and the future. 

Thank you all for reading. And please, if you are considering joining a community if you haven't already, please join The Write Right Society. We recently met 100 members, and the community is continuing to grow.

[iris-in-the-rain]

After yet another awful experience with a doctor, a despondent Ed decides he's tired of living with pain and googles physiotherapy in his area, while lying in bed, sobbing, his knee swollen and hurting. He comes across a place called 'Be Well - The Best Revenge is Living Pain-Free' He makes an online appointment, then falls asleep, tears drying on his face.

The day arrives and Ed, while feeling better, still decides to try it out, but doesn't hold out much hope. The place is welcoming and cozy and instantly makes Ed feel safe and at ease. A receptionist called Frenchie tells him about the place, until a human sunshine, by the name of Stede Bonnet, introduces himself and leads Ed into a treatment room.

'So what brings you here today, Ed?' Stede asks with a warm smile and that does it. Ed bursts into tears. He cries, great heaving sobs, and Stede offers him tissue after tissue, no judgement, just lets him cry.

'I understand, Ed, I do, and it's okay. I am so sorry to see you in this much pain. I'm glad you're here, though.' Stede says, as Ed tries to stop crying and fails. 'It's okay, I promise you, you're safe here.'

Ed eventually stops crying, apologises, but Stede's having none of it. Frenchie brings Ed a cup of tea, while Stede tells Ed about the place, and how he started it, because he wanted to help people live without pain, as much as he could.

And then Ed tells Stede about his stupid, fucked up knee, and his hands, with arthritis and how much it hurts every day, but he's learned to live with it, but he hates his stupid body and why can't he just not be in pain and why do the doctors treat him like shit, and why does his stupid body hates him, too, and he so tired and so alone and he just can't do this anymore.

And Stede listens patiently, and doesn't interrupt him and his face is so full of compassion and when Ed finishes, Stede gently takes his hands and looks at him to really make him listen, his own eyes shining at Ed's distressing story...

'Ed, I am so sorry that you had to deal with so much. My heart hurts for you so much. I promise you that I will do absolutely everything in my power to help you. You deserve to not only not be in pain, but to be happy.' More tears run down Ed's face at that. 'Will you let me help you, Ed? I would really like to help you and make life a bit easier for you. You deserve to be comfortable and happy. And without pain.'

Ed wants to believe him. He wants to believe that there actually is someone in his corner. And something about Stede makes him believe that there is hope.

'Yes' Ed says. 'I'd like that.'

[ringsreforged]

Natalie's *deep* Haladriel thoughts - BEWARE

Pau - When you read this later, let me know if you want me to move it to my personal account, yeah? If it even still exists...

I’m not really sure what this post is going to end up being. A defence of the show and the separation? In part! A critique of the show based off leak spoilers and my own gut feeling? For sure! A desperate ramble in an attempt to get my head in order? Absolutely!

I will say before we dive in that I’m absolutely a Haladriel shipper, but the way I ship isn’t always in line with fandom. I ship what I see as part of the narrative because it’s the narrative, and everything else is a bonus. I make this distinction because I think this is why I’m so okay with a lack of scenes when some others are not, and I don’t want to come across preachy. I don't think I'm in any way superior for this by the way. In fact, I wish I could be more *normal*!!!!

If you came to this show for Haladriel alone, and simply want to see them share scenes week to week – that’s your prerogative. I’m not trying to say you shouldn’t feel that way. What I might try to say is that I don’t think that makes the shows bad or suggests that the writers have baited with this relationship. I think that’s ultimately what I find frustrating…

But anyway, let’s get into whatever this is. A reflection on expectations, a five-season arc, and those STUPID spoiler leaks…

AND THERE WILL BE SPOILERS. STAY AWAY. HISS.

Alright, so this post is mostly brought to you by a sinking feeling I have that the leak spoilers are real. Because everything in that episode 7 promo matches up.

STOP READING if you don’t want to know the spoilers. And honestly? STOP READING IF YOU THINK YOU WANT TO KNOW because living with this knowledge has truly made this season less enjoyable for me (credit to it, then, because I still think it’s incredible). IF I’M MAKING YOU PANIC, STILL STOP READING because there very much is a world where these spoilers aren’t that bad in context…but I prefer to keep my expectations low…

Have you gone???

HAVE YOU GONE?????

SPOILER TALK

Okay.

So, the leak spoilers say that there is no kiss between Sauron and Galadriel (which, honestly, I have no great issue with – more to come on that later). Instead, the kiss is ELROND AND GALADRIEL, and I absolutely do take issue with this.

I can only hope and PRAY that it works in context, but I can’t get my head around it. And yet, the promo…it’s all falling into place. Elrond will be sent to discuss terms with the orcs before the battle. He’ll see Galadriel in chains, and he’ll ask for a moment to say goodbye. Adar will allow it because he’s a gent like that. This is where we get the chin touch with the thumb everyone speculated over and then…HE LEANS IN AND KISSES HER TO PUT A NEEDLE IN HER MOUTH? SO SHE CAN RELEASE HERSELF LATER??

To clarify, most of this is my spec, but THE KISS TO PASS HER A NEEDLE IS A REAL LEAKED SPOILER THAT NO LONGER SEEMS FAKE.

It's just…so convoluted and weird??? Does he store needles in his mouth like a squirrel? Why couldn’t he have slipped the needle into her hand??? WHY ARE YOU PUTTING ELROND’S LIPS ON GALADRIEL’S?

And look, maybe this spoiler IS still fake! But the details were so specific, and everything about the context seems to be accurate, so that feels like it would be a bonkers coincidence to me. Maybe when we actually see it play out, it will be fine.

But that does bring me back to the Haladriel of it all, just briefly. With my whole heart, I do not need them to kiss. After season 1, I didn’t think it would be possible, and I’m okay with that. But if you’re willing to let ELROND’S lips touch her, then MY GOD, you could have let Haladriel have ONE kiss where she’s trying to distract him or some shit. OOF.

My only relief is that it happens next week, so we can hopefully get it out of our systems and enjoy the finale.

That said, if these leaks are true then that also means the finale leaks are true. Now, I actually never wanted to see any of these spoilers (hence me making it VERY CLEAR what this post is about, because I wouldn’t inflict this stress on anyone unwillingly), so once I got the Elrond kiss details, I tried to get away without seeing much else. But there was some information on the big Haladriel scene.

I’m actually not going to detail it here, because – overall – I think we’ll still super enjoy it (just…lower those kiss expectations) AND because I don’t think all of it was spoiled. At the end of the day, there will be plenty to unpack, they’ll be back on our screens, it will be meaty, it will be layered. I’m really looking forward to it, in general.

My one fear is that it’s a season 1 finale repeat. And again, that won’t necessarily be bad per se, but it will feel a little bit underwhelming. Now, I’m not somebody that wants a true corruption arc for Galadriel. Normally, I love that shit, but not in this IP and not with this character. I want to see her explore her darkness, I want to see her face it and accept it, and I certainly want to see her be tempted…but I don’t expect or believe we'll ever actually get the whole ‘dark queen of Mordor’ vibe. Prisoner? Maybe. But not an actual dark queen.

That said…surely this scene doesn’t play out the EXACT same way as season 1? Sauron shows her a vision, she’s tempted, but ultimately resists and tells him she’ll never be at his side. I just don’t get why we’d repeat that, when there are so many other options that still keep Gal on the side of light.

I keep coming back to Galadriel’s line to Elrond in episode 4 – when it comes down to it, he has to choose to defeat Sauron and sacrifice her. I feel like if I hadn’t seen the leaks, then I would be 1000% expecting this to be the outcome. Especially with how Elrond’s theme comes in at the end of The Last Temptation track. He comes upon the confrontation but chooses to do the thing that will harm Sauron in the long run, rather than the thing that will save Galadriel.

I hope so badly for this, but I do worry that it will go the other way. What if it parallels Gandalfanger’s destiny/friend choice, and Elrond chooses her because THAT is how light wins or some shit? Not that this will be a bad scene by any stretch – I love their relationship and want to see their FRIENDSHIP (grrrr) reforged…but, again, the S1 finale! Sauron left her in the water, and Elrond was there to save her.

There’s also Galadriel’s conversation with Adar in the most recent episode – you succumbed, I resisted – but I guess this could go either way? He succumbed, so she resists. She insists she’s able to resist, so she succumbs. URGH. MY HEAD.

There MUST be a difference. SURELY??? Like, this season has been so well written…I just can’t comprehend the copy and paste.

Again, this isn’t anything close to a deal breaker for me. I firmly believe the showrunners when they say this relationship will remain the core of the show, but…hmmm. Okay, on that note…

DAMAGE CONTROL – MOVING ONTO THE DEFENCE OF THE SHOW

So, this is where I want to get into some stuff that I just…don’t agree with that I’ve seen being thrown at the show by shippers. And I’ll reiterate here that I’m truly not telling anybody what to feel. You can hate the show for its choices and feel how you feel. You can express yourself in your social media spaces, and if anybody doesn’t like it they can mute/block/unfollow. This chunk isn’t really aimed at you guys.

This is more for other people like me, because I’m cursed to be somebody that generally wants to just…enjoy things for what they are, while also being susceptible to the mood of others. I want to scroll tags and have a good time, rather than see negativity because it lowers my mood (this isn’t just ship related by the way, I really love this show overall…it’s just this tag that has been impacting my mood most this season). Regardless of the nonsense that might be in episode 7, and even if the finale scene is a repeat of S1, I’m still going to want to focus on enjoying what we get, enjoying the narrative being told etc. So, for those of you that have a little sinking feeling in your gut after the first half of this post, hopefully this second half will help.

This isn’t a ‘typical’ ship. This is a true ENEMIES ARE ENEMIES dynamic where the bad boy is ultimately going to be (is already) pure evil, and where our heroine is the embodiment of light. There are certain things that we just have to accept when it comes to loving this dynamic as part of the show – there will never be another season like season 1. Nor should there be?

Do I wish for s3 to have them in close proximity for at least a few episodes? Of course! Do I think it’s possible with or without finale spoilers? Absolutely (given how quickly characters travel from place to place on this show, they could end the season at opposite ends of Middle Earth and this would still be on the cards…). I’m also anticipating Season 4 as a good time for them to be in full MIND PALACE mode – where the rings are all ringing, but Galadriel hasn’t yet worked out how to shut him out yet. By season 5, there might just be one final scene before the final battle. But, again, I really do think there needs to be a little bit of acceptance of that. Or, at least, expectation of it.

Something I really want to push back against is this idea that Haladriel was baited or teased, but the writers don’t actually care for it. Honestly, that’s nonsense to me on a couple of levels.

First of all, almost EVERY dynamic this season has been reduced to a handful of scenes here and there. The most consistent relationships have probably been Annatar and Celebrimbor, and Durin+Durin+Disa (off the top of my head). Elrond and Durin (probably the other most popular dynamic of S1) have been apart all season, Elrond and Galadriel have too. Isildur popped up to say hello and we might not see him again.

When you actually stop and look at this season…Sauron and Galadriel had to be separated. She could not be anywhere near him while he’s working Celebrimbor, and there’s no world in which they were ever going to change that narrative. And yet, the Sauron and Galadriel dynamic has been consistent across the season. With Galadriel predominantly (and depending on how the finale goes, I may have thoughts on this), but it has also been easier with her because people have talked with her openly about Sauron. It’s been harder on his side, but the fact that Mirdania seems to have been cast to look like Galadriel honestly – right now – feels like it was done with the express purpose of giving Sauron a Galadriel reference.

Again, I’m not saying you have to like the lack of scenes, but it’s not bad writing to respect the overarching narrative of an ensemble show. Galadriel’s season has been all about him, and we’ve had countless insights to make that clear – building up to their final confrontation. If Sauron was running around mentioning Galadriel every five seconds with Celebrimbor or with the dwarves, it would be horrendously out of character.

This next comment is…somewhat dependent on the finale…but as somebody that loves Elendil and Miriel, everything in Numenor has been somewhat crammed in. I would firmly argue that the Galadriel/Sauron dynamic across this season has been treated with care and reverence, all building to a climax designed as the high point of the season. Will we be 100% satisfied? Who can say! But it IS what the season is building to.

I think this brings me around to a particular gripe I have, and maybe the people that believe this came to the show after S1 had fully aired or something…but there’s this idea floating around that the showrunners don’t like this dynamic and are just giving it crumbs to bait people into watching. This makes me want to scream.

These showrunners literally took a few lines about Galadriel being tempted by Sauron and PITCHED THE ENTIRE SHOW OFF OF THAT. The Tolkien estate wasn’t only pitched by Amazon BUT CHOSE THIS PITCH OVER ANYTHING ELSE. Season 1 was written pretty much like a prologue centred around GALADRIEL AND SAURON HAVING A PERSONAL CONNECTION WITH ROMANTIC UNDERTONES…and guess what?

They wrote all that…they filmed ALL THAT…before knowing anything about the audience reaction! That was ALL the showrunners, the writers, the directors, the actors. They ARE the narrative. They are not bait.

Does that mean the fundamentals of their dynamic will always please you, individually? No, of course not. Some people want outright romance, some people want soft Sauron, some people want Dark Galadriel. Will they kiss? I doubt it. Do I wish they would? Sure! Will they be separated again next season? Probably! Will I also wish that they could at least be stuck together for a run of episodes again? Absolutely!

But the idea that any of this is bait, or unimportant to the show drives me a little bit bonkers.

I guess my personal feeling of frustration comes from the fact that I feel so lucky they are exploring this show from the perspective of this dynamic, regardless of specific details/scenes. I’d bet my house (I don’t own a house) that every other pitch hinged on Elendil or Isildur as the protagonists of the show. Now, I love those dudes, but just IMAGINE? The fact that we’re on this path at all is still WILD to me.

ANYWAY, this is what happens when Paulina goes on holiday and I have nobody to ramble too. Sorry for the explosion, but I’ve been dreading the stupid kiss spoiler since I stumbled on it after EPISODE BLOODY 3 and so I needed to vent somewhere.

TL;DR: You are welcome to feel the way you feel, and if you hate everything you go right ahead, but maybe this makes sense to somebody. IDK. IDK.

[grifonecoronato]

Mae-ho Aniseya: Film Noir Protagonist

(Spoilers for The Acolyte)

As I've said in another post, Mae and Osha are binary opposites in their personalities and motivations.

Mae has a kind of "first child syndrome": a desire to exhibit perfection in the eyes of her mothers, so that they can shower her with praise. She loves being in her community of witches, learning and using the Thread, and indulging in the daily activities of life on Brendok.

She thrives when she is surrounded by her people, but Osha doesn't want the same things, which is something that confuses Mae deeply.

In this scene from Episode 3: Destiny, the two sisters as children talk about what they want:

MAE: "It isn't fair. I share everything with you, and you hide things from me or run off alone." OSHA: "I want to have my own things." MAE: "Why?" OSHA: "Because I don't want to do everything together all the time." MAE: "But why?" OSHA: "Because we're not the same." [...] OSHA: "Don't you wonder what else could be out there? Besides Brendok?" MAE: "No. Everything I need is here."

For Osha, her arc in The Acolyte has all the trappings of a dark romance. But from Mae's perspective, she's the heroine of her own Film Noir.

Film Noir Themes in The Acolyte

Beyond its aesthetics, Film Noir has three (3) major thematic characteristics with regard to its protagonists:

Its protagonist has an idyllic past where they were happy and life was good;

Their idyllic past is ripped away from them, often violently, in a single moment that they relive again and again in the present;

The inciting incident is an opportunity to reclaim their idyllic past, or if that's impossible, to get justice for what was lost... because to do nothing is to be haunted by it forever.

For example, we can look at the seasonal arc of Veronica Mars (2004): she's a happy high schooler and best friends with Lily Kane, then Lily is murdered and Veronica is ostracised from her former friends, and now she is seeking opportunities to solve her friend's murder, while being haunted by the memories of her.

Or consider the video game Max Payne (1998): he's a cop with a happy wife and daughter, then his wife and daughter are murdered by drug addicts high on Compound V, now he joins the DEA in an effort to find and destroy the source of Compound V, and finally stop feeling haunted by the memories of his family.

Mae's story is very similar: she was a happy kid living with a family and community that gave her everything she wanted, then the Jedi came and massacred everyone she loved, and now she's joined up with a powerful ally who will teach her to get bloody justice.

Mae's Fatal Flaw

Mae's biggest problem is that she's impulsive and frequently enters situations without a clear plan. However, this bullheadedness shows that she trusts herself to get out of any situation she finds herself in.

(Qimir once said to Osha "you should learn to trust yourself", but I doubt this is a lesson he had to teach Mae.)

Detractors often say that Mae's motivations don't make sense, or that she's "flip flopping" all the time. But this criticism -- like most criticisms from the fandom menace -- is unfair. Mae's motivations are very clear, and her shifting tactics are done as a response to new information that comes her way.

In Episodes 1 and 2, her goal is two-fold:

Hunt down the four guilty Jedi

Keep The Stranger satisfied in her progress as his apprentice

But in Episode 4 and 5, after she learns that her sister lives, her goal changes to "reunite with Osha." But when Osha refuses to listen to her, Mae's slightly modifies her goal, to "find a way to de-program Osha from her Jedi brainwashing, by exposing Sol."

Viewers that understand what drives Mae see that not flaky; she's adaptive.

The Fatal Lesson of Film Noir

The thing about Film Noir protagonists is that most of the time (not always, but most of the time), their quest for reclaiming their idyllic past is a fool's errand: they either sacrifice a big part of themselves in the attempt, or they learn to heal form the past, let go, and move on.

Mae opts for the former. When she finally succeeds in revealing that Sol has been lying for sixteen years, Osha murders him. Afterward, Osha bargains for Mae's life, which the Stranger accepts but only if he be permitted to erase her memories.

So Mae recaptures her idyllic past by being able to reconnect with her sister... only to lose her sense of self in the process. The quest consumed her.

But was it worth it?

[physalian]

On Hyper Independent Characters (and how not to make them the bad guy)

So many characters with “trust issues” are painted out to be cynical little gremlins who just need to ~open their hearts~ and ~let the love in~ like doing so, repeatedly, has only proven them right every single time, but this one love interest will swoop in and save the day.

The people who write these characters tend to do so in bad faith, as if their fears and trust issues are unfounded nonsense, like they’re wrong and Negative Nellys for being wary.

So!

From experience (thus this is hella biased), here’s some thoughts on writing an independent character with trust issues that isn’t belittling.

1. It’s likely not that kind of trust they have issues with

I said this before a while ago, but “trust issues” paired with an extreme sense of self-reliance isn’t “I think everyone is a liar,” but rather “I think everyone is unreliable”. It might stem from a place of constantly being let down, of constantly having the people in their life drop the ball on major events, but also little things, even something as simple as “hey yeah I’ll totally do the dishes” and then they continue to sit there, forcing the person to be a nag about it, or just do it themselves.

These kinds of personalities tend to grow up surrounded by unkept and empty promises, where, while it might not be every single occasion, it happens one too many times for them to keep giving the benefit of the doubt. Even when people have the best of intentions and mean it when they say they’ll do XYZ in the moment, and they really just forgot, the person they made the promise to is impatiently waiting for them to remember 12-day-old dishes.

2. Why don’t they just remind people to keep their promises?

If you’re in my boat, many people with commitment issues are also narcissists or just mean, who, if you even gently remind them, make you out to be a nagging, impatient brat. And to avoid hearing that again, you just don’t speak up. Too many times where ‘forgetting’ has been from a source of a weird power fantasy, intentionally screwing you over, leaves people sitting in a state of unknowing whether it’s benign neglect or very much on purpose, and afraid to voice their concerns to be proven right.

If you’re not in my boat, chronic “forgetters” aren’t going to change without intervention. So if I ask you to do the dishes once, and you forget, that’s one thing. If I ask you twice, three times, four times, nagging over and over again, then the benefit of the doubt is shredded, and I can’t help but assume that the “forgetting” is on purpose. Either weaponized incompetence or something more benign, doesn’t matter. Even if you have some executive dysfunction, that's an explanation, not an excuse, and the people you live with aren't your maids.

Either way, these personalities might grow up with a whole slew of self-worth issues, and be reluctant to make plans with people, invite friends to important events, or get excited about big milestones, because they’re so used to people they care about “forgetting” or canceling last minute that the only one they can trust to reliably show up is themselves.

3. Why don’t they just communicate these fears?

See the “narcissists” in point 2

4. Isn’t it lonely never letting people in?

Fuck yeah, it is. The thing is, though, that if you spend your whole life learning how to do everything alone—pay your bills, do ‘couple’ or ‘friend’ activities, run errands, take yourself out to places—the idea of having to squeeze in the wants and needs of someone else might start to sound incredibly inconvenient.

If you’re so used to being on your own schedule and reaping the benefits of being a party of 1 in crowded spaces (I just took myself to dinner at a place with an hour long wait, able to be seated immediately at the last remaining barstool), of not having to wait for someone else to confirm plans, negotiate who’s driving, negotiate a time to meet up, food to order, a movie to see, a roller coaster to ride, a game or streaming service to buy—everything is entirely under your control, sacrificing convenience for the chance that the person you invite actually shows up on time and is invested as you are isn’t really worth the risk.

That's not to say I don't enjoy when I get to do things with friends, but I can equally enjoy doing things alone as opposed to whining about it.

Personally, while I can daydream about having a romantic partner, that thought is always immediately followed up by the understanding that they’ll be an inconvenience to my independence. But I’m someone who’s always had to do the emotional labor in a relationship, who’s always the most organized, the most mature, the most level-headed in tough situations. Always been the person in groupwork who does all the work. The idea of being “a team” is a fantasy meant for other people. “Team” to me is “me and this deadweight that I have to drag around”.

5. How I’d like to see this represented in characters

Dropping “the one” into their lives and having this person swept up, broken out of their little pessimistic shell, in some epic romance, as if they only needed to find the right person and nothing at all goes wrong… is bad faith.

It’s bad faith because it minimizes this kind of independence as just a little mood problem that can be fixed right quick, that it’s inherently wrong—what was all the fuss about?

What I’d like to see is examples that prove they’re not crazy. Big and little things. Dishes, and big events. Then, they can meet “the one,” but not without some trial and error. A lifetime of “people suck and are unreliable” isn’t going to be snapped away bibbidi bobbidi boo after one good date. This magical person will have to show up, and keep showing up, and keep showing up, and the one time they don’t, because they won’t, then A and B can hash it out like adults.

6. How this person might act

I’ve never actually met somebody like me and we’d either be best friends or loathe each other. But this person might be the most reliable friend you’ve ever had, because they’re so afraid of becoming like everyone in their life who let them down before. If you ask a favor of them, it gets done with supernatural haste.

This person might also have their own commitment issues, where instead of failing to keep their promises, they punish themselves by keeping promises they hate, showing up out of spite and resentment because they said they would, lest they be called a hypocrite.

They might under-share or not speak up about accomplishments in their life until the time for hype and anticipation has passed, lest they share expecting the same level of excitement only to be met with apathy. They might not show visible excitement about objectively exciting things, because they’re so used to plans falling through that they won’t believe something is happening until they are physically in the location and it’s staring them in the face.

Thus, they might look frequently bored or unhappy and unmoved by something important to you, or something you thought they’d like (especially if you’ve let them down before, trust is a privilege, not a right).

7. What I’d like people to understand most of all

First, that some of us tend to live by the “if you want something done right do it yourself” mantra, so actually asking somebody for help with something is admitting that X cannot be done alone, which makes failure to keep a promise even worse. As in, if A goes out of their way to admit they can’t do F alone and risk being let down to ask B to do this one little thing for them, and B still drops the ball, A is going to sit there and think “this is why I have trust issues”.

Can’t speak for everyone, but yes I do acknowledge that the suffering in silence isn’t helping anyone and am working on it. Counterpoint: Weaponized incompetence is very real and an adult should not have to remind another adult to keep their living space clean, at the bare minimum. Agreeing to do a thing is at least equal responsibility on the inviter and invitee and "you didn't remind me" isn't a valid excuse.

But most importantly, if you have a friend or relative who is fiercely independent, I’d implore you to learn one thing: Do not make promises that you can’t keep. And if shit happens and you have to cancel even when you had the best of intentions, have the decency to tell them and make the best effort you can to reschedule ASAP, instead of putting the impetus on them to do the rescheduling. Make it absolutely clear that you do, in fact, care, and weren’t going out of some apathetic sense of obligation.

I cannot count the amount of times I have asked a friend to do something for me, they eagerly agreed, and then my very real deadlines come and go and they say absolutely nothing, so I have to nag them, and nag them, and then they turn it back on me with a “obviously you can see that I’m busy and you’re not paying me for this” when all they had to do was say “no I can’t help you” (two whole humans; we are not friends anymore).

The ability to be approached with a request for a favor, step back and think about it, and go “No, I don’t think I can do that in that time frame/at this moment I’m going through a lot/with the skill the task requires” is apparently ridiculously rare. I’d infinitely prefer a no upfront than a yes, bank on that yes, and then wait around hoping someone follows through.

Not saying anything is really rude. If you agree to X, the person who asked you is fully expecting you to do X. They shouldn’t have to be lining up backup plans and last minute helpers scrambling to do the job you promised would get done.

—

Not exaggerating when I say it happens in so many areas. I’ve needed very important things like recommendation letters, or actual paid beta readers on a very hard deadline and still scrambled at the last minute to find replacements that sometimes cost real money for rush fees. I’ve been left waiting at an event for an hour minimum only to finally receive a ‘hey I can’t come’ text and then go home. I’ve told people multiple times, “hey, if you’re going to do X, please do it like this and have some consideration for my things that you’re borrowing” and just… be ignored.

As somebody who gets whatever’s asked of me done immediately, no matter how busy I am, man is it hard to keep accepting “sorry I forgot” as an excuse, from multiple people, multiple times.

The nice thing, though, the big benefit of hyper-independence is that I have learned so many skills out of a compulsion to just do it myself instead of gambling with the accountability of another flighty human. Handyman things for my home and my car, but artistic things, too. So there’s that.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Floo

Words: 996 😮‍💨

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

It was like James had a sixth sense of when Sirius brought a man home, because the last eight times, he’d tumbled through the floo, needing help with something, or wanting to hang out or to check in on Remus. Each time Sirius had been utterly cockblocked by it.

The ninth time it happened, he’d had enough.

“How do you do it?” He snapped when Davey suddenly remembered that he had an early start in the morning. “How do you do this every time?”

James, to his credit, played dumb, “Do what? I’m just here to return Moony’s book.”

“Where is it?” Sirius said, looking at James’ empty hands.

“Where’s what?”

“The book.” Sirius growled, “The book that you’re returning to Moony, Prongs.”

“Oh, would you look at that? I left it at home.” James chuckled, “Oh well, no harm no foul.”

Sirius strode past him into the hallway and James heard his bedroom door slam. Remus poked his head into the living room a few seconds later.

“I think he’s onto you.” He said wearily.

“No idea what you mean, Moony.” James sat down on the sofa.

“What is it?” Something in the wards?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” James smiled as Remus dropped into the armchair.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.” Remus frowned, “I’d ask if you fancy him, but you’re getting married in three months so I almost don’t want to.”

“No, I do not fancy Padfoot. Jesus.” James groaned, “But you do.”

Remus’ face dropped, “Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Moony.”

“Prongs.”

“Remus.”

“James.”

“Look, I know sometimes I can be… unobservant, let’s say. But not this time.” James pointed at him. “I saw the two of you at our engagement party.”

Remus’ face suddenly went from very pale to very red. “Ah.”

“Yes, ah. It looked like the two of you were finally getting your shit together.” James looked at him over the top of his glasses. “So what happened?”

“Well, we came home, we… spent some time in Sirius’ bed. I woke up alone in Sirius’ bed and we’ve just… never spoken about it.” Remus shrugged, but James recognised that sad look in his eyes.

“Would it kill the two of you to have a conversation?” James sighed.

“Possibly.” Remus said, “It’s definitely been too long to bring it up now, though. And he clearly has no intention of doing so. If anything he’s bringing more men home than he was before.”

“But they’re not staying long are they?” James feigned confusion. “Fascinating.”

“This won’t end well.” Remus couldn’t help but smile. “I'm going to deny all knowledge. Wait, would me bringing people home trigger the same thing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” James smirked.

“And that’s why I go to their place whenever the opportunity arises, instead of bringing them here,” Remus said.

“Well, that, and you’re not an asshole.” James’ smirk dropped. “I don’t get what he’s doing.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been over and over it in my head.” Remus said quietly, “If he regretted it, he could just tell me. It would suck for a bit, but I’m not a dickhead.”

“Maybe you just need to get drunk together again.”

“That’s a stupid idea.” Remus curled in on himself, tucking his feet under him. “Maybe I should think about moving out.”

“No!” Sirius stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and covering his mouth. James and Remus stared at him. “I don’t want you to move out.” He said quietly after an awkward silence.

“But you understand why he’d want to?” James frowned at him. Sirius nodded. “So, why?”

“I met Emmeline.” Sirius mumbled, “The morning after the party.” Remus’ mouth dropped open.

“Oh, fuck.” His head was in his hands, “Oh shit, oh fuck.”

“Yeah. She turned up for your coffee date wearing less than I enjoyed seeing on a Sunday morning.” Sirius came and sat on the arm of the sofa. “I may have been a bit snippy with her, honestly.”

“Wait, who’s Emmeline?” James asked, looking between them.

“She’s the woman that Remus brought home three days before your engagement party,” Sirius said, not looking at Remus, who was trying not to smirk.

“On a Wednesday, Moony?” James was bewildered.

“Sometimes trivia night is a good way to meet people,” Remus muttered. “I completely forgot that we had plans. Well, that explains why she blocked me.”

“That, and Sirius playing jealous boyfriend,” James added.

“I was not— I didn’t— Shut up, Prongs.” Sirius looked at Remus, “I figured it out afterwards that it was arranged before we… you know. And then I just felt gross for how I reacted.”

“You could have said something, you know.” Remus sighed, “You didn’t have to pretend it never happened and return to your carousel of men.”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded, “It was shitty, and the shittier I felt about it, the more I spiralled, and then I thought you’d arranged this thing with Prongs to cockblock me, and then I was petty about it. And then I felt guilty about how petty I’d been, and then I spiralled some more, and yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Moony had nothing to do with it,” James confirmed.

“Yeah, I know that now.” Sirius pointed to the door. “Moody would have something to say about your awareness of your surroundings.”

“Moody can kiss my arse.” Remus shook his head, “We probably should talk about it then?” Sirius nodded.

“Well, that’s my cue.” James stood up. “You’re welcome. I’ll be around to fix your wards tomorrow. Please be clothed.”

“You’re lucky we love you, you know,” Sirius said as James waved before stepping into the fire.

“So at what point do we tell him that we’ve been together for six months?” Remus said as Sirius came to squeeze into the armchair. “He really thought he was onto something.”

“He means well.” Sirius kissed Remus’ forehead. “Love you, Moons.”

“Love you too.” He said, “Tell Davey we owe him a pint.”

Notes:

ha.

Also my headcanon (is it a headcanon if it's your own fic?) is that the first time it happened it was completely innocent, Sirius was just bringing a friend round for a drink or something, but then James showed up and was so pleased with himself that they concocted this plan

[hellfireloserclub]

I was a teenage dirtbag | 75k | M

Author : @hellfireloserclub Artist :@academic-clown ( @acaademicqueer if it ever gets un nuked) Beta : @kaypie91

Sorry it's late ! Ao3 was out!

Nothing but love for the wonderful artwork @academic-clown has done for this fic. The detail and the love in this art is wonderful.

And thankyou kaypie for the wonderful beta work.

“So…” Dustin started.

“So what?” Eddie asked, fixing his eyes on the side of Dustin’s face, trying to work out what way this interrogation was going to go.

“I don’t have my own ringtone, Wayne and Mom don’t, but Steve does?” Dustin avoided looking at him, staring at the overhead signs pointing to the short stay parking, acting like they weren’t at the airport at least twice a month with the family coming and going.

“I thought it was funny,” he said in his own defense.

“And I totally believe you.” It sounded like a question.

“But?”

“But are you sure there's not more?” someone shouldn’t look so smug as they reverse in a multi story, yet here was Dustin excelling at it.

When Eddie didn’t answer he cut off the engine turning to look at him, all signs pointed to the next few minutes being incredibly uncomfortable.

“Spit it out, I have to get to the gate,” Eddie grumbled, he felt like he was under a microscope, his little brother's eyes boring into him.

“Are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Steve?” Eddie wanted to yell- yes, I just don’t know what? But he bit it down, this wasn’t the time to trigger a Dustin intervention.

“Just because you can't procreate outside of the close knit circles you were dragged up in, doesn’t mean we all have to hook up within our little friend group. You gotta stop trying to pair us all off dude, it's not cool. Remember when you used to keep trying to pair off Steve and Robin? How did that work out for you?” Eddie questioned.

“In my defense-”

“No. Say less. Stop. I broke up with Yumi two weeks ago, I don’t need you to help, I don’t need your psychoanalyzing me with Max over the phone. I don’t need you to try and set me up with a rebound. I’m a big boy alright. I’m going to Boston to get stupidly drunk with Steve, talk shit about you all lovingly, and lament the fact that both me and him are probably gonna die old and alone.” He reached over the back of the seat and grabbed his duffle bag, before reaching over and tapping Dustin on the cheek.

“But look at the plus side, if me and Stevie don’t bring a plus one to the wedding that will save you two meals and a headache with seating plans.”

“You make my resolve to not meddle in both of your love lives impossible, you know that right?” Dustin asked, leaning over the center console.

“Cause you were doing an absolutely stellar job of it before this conversation?” Eddie closed the door behind him. “Dusty, I love you like you’re my own flesh and blood. But please, let this one go?”

Dustin looked poised to say something else but Eddie didn’t have time for it.

“If the words curiosity journey come out of your mouth, I’m not speaking to you for a month.” Dustin snapped his mouth shut, “That’s it, save it for Applejack, I don’t want to know.”

Eddie gave the car a courtesy wave as he went through the doors of the airport, but he didn’t look back.

He was pretty sure Dustin had hit the nail on the head with his observations, but as far as anyone was aware Steve was just his friend, and letting go of any control on that narrative was like letting a fox off in a hen house. It would be chaos.

Although Eddie was starting to think it was a lost cause. This was so much easier when he and Steve hated each other, enemies to fuck buddies was a much easier story arch, with a lot less emotional baggage.