#Im prolly gonna change that name again

[ferox-imagines]

A snippet of my tmnt adaptation <3 love me some Leorai angst

I may fully color this? We‘ll see😭

[shiftingtomydrs]

MLB DR

Alright so same as with some other drs my personal stuff like name and everything is the same soo wont go into that a lot tbh

then backstory, i originally wanted to be like an exchange student in france but then like i cant very well be ladybug if im only there for a year so i switched it to i move to france for some reason i dont know yet and i live there with my aunt or smth bcs she lives near paris yk? then basically i just kinda take marinettes place but not completely, like shes still there and stuff but im there too yk? my love interest is adrien and marinette will get together (and stay together) with luca cos theyre cute and im not sure yet if i should script her crush on adrien out or just say it disappears at some point

changes in plot: i dont like anything after season 2, dont ask me why, i just dont like it idk why either, so im gonna script seasons 3-5 out with some exceptions (e.g. i kinda really like cat blanc so i might leave that in with some other stuff but the whole shadow moth and all that shit no) also lila isnt the next supervillain shes just a regular mean girl cos it doesnt make any frickin sense that a 15 year old is able to manipulate every single person she meets. like shell still be able to lie and manipulate people her age but not adults cos thats just stupid imo. Also i havent even watched season 5 yet so im going off spoilers i saw for the next part: none of the miraculous will have permanent holders except ladybug and chat noir (aka me and adrien) cos i like to be special :) also i wont be guardian of the miraculous until much later like college or smth cos thats a ton of pressure and it went sideways for marinette so i dont want it going sideways for me. oh and a big one: ill be taking the whole sentimonster plot out cos i hate it and i think ive never hated a plot as much as that one. like sentimonsters can exist okay but felix and adrien and kagami etc arent one. cos just no. oh and ofc i wont know adrien is chat noir haha

now a bit more about myself: idk yet if i just wanna kinda steal marinettes interests and do the whole design thing cos i am a sucker for parallels and the parallel of adriens parents and adrinette is there but then again why would i wanna be like gabriel? so i might just do what i do in 90% of my drs and be a songwriter (well ill be that anyway question is do i add the designing part on top or not?), otherwise i like baking, ill do figure skating or gymnastics or ballet prolly like all the things i wanna do here but cant for this or that reason. my nationality will be german prolly cos i like having the german passport and also i dont think i need a visa for france cos its in the eu. i wont really script much more about like me and adrien except that we end up together but in my head its kinda similar to the adrien and marinette situation cos im a sucker for slowburn and idk it just fits i think also with my issues with trusting people have good intentions and not just spend time with me bcs of a bet or shit like that.

Physical looks, i might change my hair color cos idk i think itll fit and yeah but ill still have my eye color and height and stuff just be a bit fitter cos with my endurance theres no way ill be able to be a superhero (ik theres magic and shit but still)

im not sure yet if i should leave the dr as a cartoon or do it like this reality (leaning towards this reality bcs i think cartoon would freak me out a bit for my first shift and id overcomplicate it) or maybe ill just do two drs, one cartoon and one not.

anyway, if you have any questions, id love to talk more about this dr so pls ask them <3

@ningsols here it is :)

[rorywritesjunk]

WIP TITLE GAME

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @galaxycunt

I am also gonna tag @operationroots @hey-august @lostfirefly @fanaticsnail

Okay ready for the excitement (I am not really creative with document names)

"Untitled Document" is Taron and Buggy smut. I'm quickly doing an edit on Chapter 2 before I post it today or tomorrow.

"Tumblr Prompts" is where I work on requests/prompts. There's only one in there so far and it's Buggy and her Husbands for the Swap AU.

"slow burn request" is Cupcake x Buggy. I'm working on Chapter 15 to get the smut going again. There's a possibility I could break 20 chapters with this story Im realizing.

"400 follower story" is slowly getting worked on. It's the story I had people vote for some things for it and am prolly two pages in? It's going to be fluffy and smutty.

"bakery story" is Birdie and Buggy. I don't imagine that one going past 12 chapters.

"Untitled Document" is my Howl's Moving Castle AU. Still working slowly on that. I think I'm going to set aside a day for me to just hash that out and get it finished to slowly share it.

I actually have a file called "WIP" where I throw in chunks of writing that I didn't like for something but wanted to keep around just in case. It's over 100 pages. Some included things were a bit more angst for stories that I didn't want to add in. There's enough angst out there and I didn't want it in my writing necessarily.

Things that I cut were a misunderstanding between young Buggy and Sunny caused by Benji being a little shit. Benji told Buggy that Sunny had a date with someone else when he showed up one day so Buggy assumed he was being led on the entire time. The two had a fight over it. It involved Sunny quitting Miss Pins' and leaving. I couldn't find a good way to fix the situation so I cut it.

Another thing was Buggy suggesting to Birdie he leave her on an island somewhere until the baby was born because why not, he didn't want to leave his ship and be on land while she waited out the rest of her pregnancy. But I didn't want to undo some of their growth. They'll still have some misunderstandings but I felt that was too much.

And Cupcake and Buggy had many hiccups. I decided I didn't like how I was writing Cupcake so it changed to misunderstandings in the bedroom instead of Buggy losing his temper all the damn time and Cupcake crying constantly.

[mueritos]

Hey. Idk if this is me growing up or just being disillusioned with inter celebs etc. Im a 23 yr old trans man so I grew up and was inspired by chella on the YouTube community. But now I just…don’t like chella man anymore. I feel like…he became an industry plant? Over the pandemic asking fans for money to send to him directly to help others and not showing where the money was going exactly incident as well as just becoming older I noticed he seemed to almost want to become the next Keith haring or basquiat? He almost…now seems very fake? He takes deals with brands to be representation but doesn’t do much to call out certain brands for their faults etc.

Idk anymore

I give Chella credit in that he was one of the few transmen that I looked up while I was young, especially with him being BIPOC. Showing him to my family helped them understand me. But that's where the inspiration kinda stops, because it was painful to be surrounded by years-in-transition trans men online when I was absolutely nowhere I wanted to be. That was a me problem tho. But I also didn't know much about his whole donation incident.

Ig heres what I have to say. It's not great to view other people as your justification of your morals. We don't know how people have had to live or how they live now, we don't know what decisions they have to make, and we dont know what kind of fears or goals they have. Chella is allowed to do whatever he wants with his art or his modelling career, just like how I genuinely believe anyone else in the world is capable of making the right decisions for themselves (even if we dont like those decisions!). Im not really concerned with figuring out if hes an industry plant or a "class traitor" (lol) or even if he's "fake". To be honest, I'm all for BIPOC folks getting their $. Does that mean I enjoy seeing wealthy BIPOC folk perpetuate classism and racism? No. Just cuz someone is succeeding for themselves doesn't mean people cant critique them. I guess what Im saying is I see waaay too many people online take the things they enjoy and the people they follow as projections of their morals: "no! stop [Insert celebrity name] you're being problematic and its makes us fans look bad!" Like....Okay lmfao. People are grown adults and are going to make decisions for themselves. Just because you might enjoy a celebrity does not mean your morals are based on how good of a person they are.

and youre allowed to not like the same things anymore just like how people are allowed to change, for better or for worse. I think within online communities there is way too much pressure on "looking" like a good person versus actually being one...because sometimes BEING a good person makes you look absolutely vile in terms of online spaces/communities love of isolating, removing, and deleting "problematic" (and vulnerable) people from their spaces with no trial, discussion, or attempt at conflict mediation. Yea yea I do think people have every right to be criticized just as they have every right to make whatever decision they want, but what Im trying to get at is to really stop viewing anyone with a platform as someone you can other once they dont meet your standards. This is not the same as denouncing or critiquing someone for really egregious behavior (white supremacy, harrassment, bullying, interpersonal violence). Once you kinda start living by your own morals without needing other people's actions/behaviors to justify/define them, you learn to focus on building connections rather than destroying them.

again, this is a much nuanced topic and you prolly werent expecting me to go into this. but ive grown over the years and have engaged in some nasty and vile mob mentality behavior that i just dont vibe with anymore. im not really the kind of person now to speculate online or publicly what other people are doing or should be doing or whether theyre problematic or not. I don't really care about Chella man or most celebrities rn. People r just gonna be people, and I will always have empathy for those of marginalized identities. Free will, autonomy, and self determination goes both ways, but so does accountability, transformative justice, and reconciliation.

but also like kill ur idols lol

[unnerving-presence]

honestly i genuinely dont think wesker would judge the body of his s/o ever,,he doesnt give me that vibe and it honestly weirds me out so much when ppl try to paint him like that lol (then again im insane and love him sooooo) like,,idk this is prolly SO stupid of me but i genuinely refuse to believe albert would treat his s/o like shit 🧍‍♂️my gay ass refuses to accept that

no cause i totally agree with you on this

time and time again i will use excella as a prime example as to why he simply wouldn’t do shit like that because SHE IS ALSO A WESKER SIMP 😭 yes in that circumstance she was being used but when i talk about this i use the part where.. yk he rizzed her up and treated her good enough to the point where she’d do literally anything for him and also told her they’d change the world together. she also called him albert!! she felt close enough to him to even call him by his first name. they’ve been working together for years, clearly wesker’s been working his charm on her

if wesker’s gonna treat a sexy ass bitch like that and it’s just to use her, imagine how he’d treat you if you were his s/o and he really cared about you

wesker has good relationships with both alex and birkin and still stays in contact with alex during re5. he doesn’t treat her like shit for no reason just because he’s albert wesker. he can and does care about people 🤷‍♀️ i’m tired of people acting like wesker has no emotions and can’t be fucking NICE

news flash !!

these fuckers were friends !! GENUINE FRIENDS (those wesker stans r having an aneurysm rn)

like it or not, wesker doesn’t treat everybody in his life like shit. sure, by nature he can be a little egotistical and competitive but that doesn’t mean he goes “KILL YOURSELF” to everybody he sees. like the same people that accuse other wesker stans of making him ooc (they made a comfort ai tik tok where he says reassuring words how dare they 👿) also make him ridiculously ooc by acting like he can’t have friends or good relationships with people. yes, he doesn’t really like most people and it totally would take years upon years to form a genuine bond with him, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna be a dick to everybody anyways. he’s obviously maintains professionalism in his daily life and during work. i have no idea what brings these people to assume that wesker doesn’t have the capability to be a decent human being

anyways wesker would treat his s/o good cause.. yk ur his fucking s/o why wouldn’t he 😭❤️

[sillyf1blog]

F1 preseason testing review

With fp1 starting tomro, I thought I should do a little review of what the pecking order of the grid appears to potentially be after preseason testing :3

As is usual with testing don’t take this too seriously and be ready for a fat wall of text

Red Bull

As expected it appears that the usual suspect is first in the pecking order again (Red Bull nyot mr popo). Adrian Newey has once again cooked up a Frankenstein's monster of a car, seeming to take some ideas from Mercedes whilst mixing it their own in some places.

Whilst they didn’t actually set the fastest time in testing, when compared to lap times set on similar compounds they do appear to be the fastest. And when maxes reaction to driving the car is:

You should probably be a bit worried if your nyot a max fan

Ferrari

Italy’s national team seems to be pretty damn quick, and the closest to Red Bull with them topping both the second and third day with the fastest time overall. They seem to have fixed their problems with tyre deg and drivability, so their race pace should be much stronger than it was last year. This means that Leclerc's crazy quali pace can be properly benefited from. I doubt they will can fight Red Bull for the title but most likely on a race by race basis instead.

Mercedes

Mercedes have made drastic changes to their car this year, and they seem to be working to an extent, lap time wise they are easily the 3rd fastest at the moment, and might nyot be too far behind Ferrari (who they would defo like to beat to stick it to Lewis). Mercs most likely issue this year could be if their car is too radical, as they made some interesting decisions design wise (which considering Red Bull took ideas from them, means that the big concept change might nyot have been needed)

McLaren

Well it’s better than last year at least. The Sisyphean task of McLaren trying to get to front has once again stalled slightly as they have seemingly fell a bit back from Ferrari and merc. However McLaren have some mystical ability to drastically improve their car after the first few races, and considering how far they moved up in 2023 they could potentially worth upgrades properly match Red Bulls pace. The source of their problems right nyow could be that unlike Ferrari and Mercedes, they didn’t make any huge changes which means they might have just fell behind a bit.

Aston Martin

Aston Martin seem to mostly be consolidating their place in the top half of the grid this year, pace wise they seem to be just behind mclaren, but in some runs Alonso did they could be just ahead of them aswell. They prolly won’t be a big focus this year, they will prolly just be a consistent points scorer and occasionally pop up on the podium every now and then.

RB

Team ugly ass name could be a quite a surprise potentially, I’d pre season testing is anything to go off of, they have improved on their late 23 pace and are firmly middle of the pack, just behind the top 5 and ahead of the bottom 4. And they don’t just appear to be copying Red Bull, as their car is mostly an evolution of last years with just some new Red Bull parts added on. This year might really allow Daniel and yuki to really show how good they are as both will be fighting for that second Red Bull seat.

Williams

similar to aston they seem to have just stayed put this year, this will most likely be a year of just trying to solidify their position from last year again this year and then work from there. most of the news from this team will be about if logan stays or not and if they can get Alex to resign for them as well, other than that there probably wont be much coming out of these guys.

Alpine

Alpine in pre season testing looked... interesting, lets say that

im not really gonna talk about them here, this post is long enough as it it is, so i will make a post specifically for alpine as i have a lot to say, to make it short here, they could be one of the slowest teams on the grid. but that's based on testing, so we will see what comes from it.

Sauber

Sauber does seem to be a bit quicker this year, and the car seems a lot more understood by the team and more drivable. i imagine the year is going to be spent mostly just trying to make whatever gains possible and try to prepare for Audis full take over of the team. however there could be some interesting decisions driver wise, Bottas and Zhou are generally considered some of the most at risk drivers, as a seat at Sauber is quite valuable as it will become a full works team eventually, so it could be likely that some more high profile drivers like Carlos or Nico could move to the team as has been rumored

Haas

as i think most people expected Haas was at the back, the team is in a bit of an uncertain position, with long time leader Steiner given the boot by gene. Ayao Komatsu spent most of the off season after getting the promotion doomer posting about how haas might not be fully ready for pre season testing and that they dont fully understand the tyre deg issues yet as they spent the entire test doing long runs to try and fix it

it also doesn't help that with the way things are going currently their main driver Hulkenberg wants out. i fully expect that Haas will finish last this year, and this is all coming off the back of news that Andretti was rejected by f1 over fears they "wont be competitive", when they let a team like Haas clown around the place at the back of the grid.

[rzyraffek]

Hello!

I just wanted to say that I really love your writing, and was hoping to send you a request. If you’re not interested feel free to ignore.

I saw you were open to writing for underrated slashers, so I was wondering if you could write something for Dominic from The dare. I just watched it and I’m so obsessed with him. There’s literally no writing for him, he’s so underrated.

In terms of the writing, I just want something fluffy. Like being childhood friends, getting separated, and then meeting again as adults. I’m being vague just in case you decide to watch the movie. I don’t want to spoil anything. I trust your amazing writing skills. ❤️

Again, feel free to ignore if you’re not interested. Thank you 💕

Thank you!! That's v nice of you😊😊 also thanks for movie recommendation!!! It was great tbh! The killer looked like brahms but gym rat😭😍 im obsessed!!

Sfw, they/them, mensions of trauma but on movie level so nothing new!

Dominic (from The Dare) Headcanons!!

While I was watching the movie I thought "man this is gonna be hard to write" but when I saw that u mention 'childhood friends' prompt and OMG ANON YOU ARE GENIUS

Childhood friend with this guy.. What worse could happen?

Imagine this: s/o and Dominic are bffs and one day Dominic sadly gets bullied but what can s/o do about that really? There's 4bullies and only two of them ://. I can imagine s/o ending up looking for him afterwards, and even lutteraly forcing police department not to close that case

He prolly kidnaped them due to silly goofy mood. Nah but for real he kinda hoped that they still like him?? (He mensions in movie that he wish he had family and kids just like main character did) and also he hopes s/o is as sadistic as him and will revenge bullies with him

S/o has to have huge 'I can fix him' vibe if they somehow stay with him

Also this guy never had a gf or even a kiss soooo yeah he will get flustered if s/o grabs his hand or call him some nick names. If s/o says something along the lines "Love you honey" He will just stand there sweatin bcs he has no clue what to do??? Should he say thank you?? Should he smile??? "Uhh😰😰 you too?"

Hes very pretty but hear me out. Masks stays on

After opening up and making sure s/o doenst skedaddle when left alone for more than second he turns into such simp, like "Domi its cold can you bring me a blanket :(" "yes honey, what color? What texture? I hope you dont mind wool .. i mean if you do i have few other blaknets but not as warm I- i mean i can go make you one?? O-or..." this guy🙄

He gets way to flustered! Things between them needs to go slow or his heart will explode. Lets stay with lil smooches and handholding for now please

do no DO NOT ENTER BASEMENT PLS plsplspls!!! Why?? Ee well😓😓 I kinda still have those people in there... they deserve it! (Sure they do)(but he feeds them so no worry

As i said before, he is a gym rat, his s/o could lay on his back and he still would do push ups(tbh he enjoys that bcs not only he exercise but also spents time with them)

He would love to go to park with them, watch a movie in cinema, talk shit about neibours. Sadly he thinks that due to his eee chilhood trauma he cant do all this stuff :((. Hopefully his s/o will help him change his mind! Help him leave all that stuff in past.

He do be laying on floor drawing with crayons and waving his legs in air (also humming)

His love language is definitely quality time. He loves doing anything with them really! S/o wants to cook something together? Get him an apron! S/o wants to cuddle and watch movies? Say less He will get some blankets and make couch mega comfy! S/o wants to dance or goof around just vibing? He can try that!

About 'play fighing' well that's not the best idea, I mean he likes it?? But it kinda gets into his head?? And he might to something very hurtful and bad acidently

What he loves the most are little things. How s/o knocks on door of his workshop before entering to make sure he knows that they are entering, or how they grab his hand when they are stressed, or how they bring him food when he's too busy/overwhelmed to do so himself, or when they give him space and understanding when he needs that, and when they lisen to him mumble about the horrid stuff he witnessed

He loves kissing them on forehead, hugs from behind, playing with hair, lazy mornings including snuggles

Sorry for long wait, I have a lot of stuff to do latley!! It is 2am I just finished watching move! I really hope those headcanons fit into your Dominic interpretation! Also good news! I think I might include his silly fella in my future headcanons! Cuz hes goofy! Please give more movie recommendations!

Love you all cya in next one

[enlighten3d]

LISTENING TO FILE 10 OF THE TRAIN TO CALECO HILL. BE WARNED !! SPOILERS AHEAD!!

will be editing the post instead of reblogging o7

liveblog below the cut (:

oh no. medical room. why.

-

NOOO HIS LEGS. get a fucking mobility aid. (prolly wouldnt have helped in this case lmao)

-

YES BE MAD AT HER. THATS SO FUCKING VALID OF YOU.

-

the monster WAS her wasnt it...

-

yeeessss tash yesssss recognise the faults in relationships you fucking deserve to be mad. you fucking deserve it. yes.

-

relatable, tash. relatable. i cant remember anything either 👍

-

NO YOU HAD IT BEFORE. YOU BROUGHT CEDRIC ON THE TRAIN W YOU, TASH... THE TRAIN IS FUCKING W YOU.. how well do you remember the station, tash... you havent mentioned any of the ppl you knew since.. file 2 or 3..... love are you okay.

-

THE TRAIN IS HIS HOME HE BELONGS HERE 💥 (for now)

-

gods tash sounds so. different this episode. i mean this in the way that hes finally fed up and. hes at the end of his tether. and. whndkxjksdkssjdjf hes. this is good, this is fascinating...

-

this guy needs a shock blanket

-

this guy also needs friends

-

HE ALSO NEEDS TO NOT DIE AND END UP AT CALECO HILL - (/theory)

-

ooohh the dream changed...

oh thats ominous. different colours?? does that indicate a... Change of some sort? it rly feels like it does.... man.

-

you know who can see (or at least are sensitive to it) ultraviolet light? axolotls. (/j. axolotl tash propaganda /silly)

-

WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY THAT WAS A SLIGHT JUMPSCARE

what the fuck was that

HI OWL GIRL

wait

wait

wait

wait

wait

ait

wait

IS TASH GETTING A MOBILITY AID?? FINALLY???????? AUWBFHZHDNDNZUDIAIDJDKSKCJDJ????????

oH MY GODS

i AM OVERJOYED. ‼️‼️‼️

WEIRD CREEPY NOISES INCE THE DOOR OPENS BUT HES GOT A CANE GUYS AAAAAJSHDNFKF

-

SPINDLY LEGS?? WHAT??? WHDJSKFHSJ??

oh he does not trust owl girl anymore

-

.spooky. spooky cane... monster cane... oh i love that...

-

GLOWING. G L O W I N G

-

ALBER!! SPOOKY MONSTER GLOWING CANE HAS A NAME!!!

please do be aware that figg 100% named that after their own cane (which is named albert)

AAAA TASH HAS A MOBILITY AID IM SO HAPPY FOR HIM ‼️‼️‼️

-

ahajdjs "please stop glowing.." mate i dont think it will...

i love spooky glowing cane

-

exactly the right height... alber i love you you are magical (literally)

-

THATS WHAT I WAS THINKING TOO, TASH. NO SOUND OF THE TRAIN ROLLING. READ MY FUCKING MIND AHDJJDD

-

WHAT IS W H A T. TASH. TASH.

book??????? BOOOK????

-

owl girl kleptomaniac moment

-

FAMILIAR?? oh this is not gonna go well.

diary. diary. oh no. ohhh boy. habdjfkd

its his isnt it. it is. isnt it. a.

-

june 20, 2019. anna. naming things. this is tash. leave where.the station, right??

-

FOREST?? TOWN?? is. is this village tash theory. please say it is. a.

-

nooo its not ): its rhe Station (which was also a thought that i had so)

-

itttsss tash. his diary. before he forgor

-

"hello again, anna" ITS EXACTLY HOW HE SAYS HI TO CEDRIC EVERY TIME AA

-

RENÉE MENTION ‼️‼️ wow its been a while

-

fuck, tash is desperate to have someone care abt him ):

-

cody and lana... more mentions...

-

The Train

oh gods. oh gods he does not sound okay. tasshhhh ):

-

OH GODS, ME JUMPSCARE- i forgot that my voice is gonna be in this lmao

-

lana time [:

(hi its me im lanas va lmao)

-

AAND IT JUST ENDS?? OH BOY SHFNDJ

AAAAA OKAY THAT WAS. A LOT. HOLY FUCK???

okay so. recap of what happened: tash is not dead, hes pissed at owl girl (rightfully), the dream Changed, he got a spooky cane named alber (‼️‼️‼️), owl girl gave him his diary and hes Remembered things, lana showed up, theres someone named mr 22

ouhh boy this sure was a finale

THE CLIFFHANGER WHYYYYYYYYY (i fully knew this was coming lmao)

AWHDHSKFUJSNDJANFBANDIXHSJJRKWDK HOW AM I MEANT TO GO TO SCHOOL TMRW WITH ALL THIS BRAINROT

[mossymultiverse]

upd4te

me: yeah im gonna revamp the theme maybe thatll make me want to go back to pokemon ::]

me now: me now: ah.

ok, so, dont worry, im not gonna abandon this blog. i am, however, going to change it. as much as i love this community and have had a great time here, i do not control the hyperfixation, and i think instead of fighting it, im going to come up with a new solution for it.

technically, ive HAD a solution for it for a very long time- that solution being the very character i rp as on this blog now. moss is not confined to any one world, nor even to the same flow of time. that allows my brain to jump around and do whatever the got darn heck it wants to, because i can throw my little guy / self insert / persona / myself into as many worlds and situations as i want, and nobody can tell me im wrong. well, they can, but they can also suck my

anyways.

if you were following me for pokemon irl stuff, feel free to unfollow, i wont be upset. i will still do some pokemon stuff from time to time (as well as a lil in-character transition/explanation of the blog change), but tbh i doubt its gonna be for a while. i AM going to do a bunch of silly interdimensional meta multiverse bullshit, because the undertale fandom (among others, but that was my first and tbh strongest fandom, so) changed me, and i am trying to learn to embrace what makes me happy again, even if it is Cringe(tm).

i dont really have a proper story planned out per se, so its not gonna be super coherent all the time.. altho tbh i never really did, so ig thats not gonna change much :skykid_giggle: itll mostly just follow moss thru whatever they happen to be goin thru! which will usually be whatever i happen to b thinkin of, so.. ye! gonna b a bit.... odd.

so uh.. yeah. expect a theme change, prolly just back to the default tungle theme cuz im lazy rn, and expect a few posts where moss explains whats happening. or dont, and if you're unfollowing, i hope you enjoyed the ride! stay safe have fun ilu ::3

oh, one more thing. since i will no longer be confining this blog to one world (and tbh it had long since left the old chateau) i will also be changing the blog's NAME. that will be an in-character post, so dont worry too much, and im also gonna add that to my pinned, which.... also needs updating, actually. guess we're gonna be under construction for a while, huh. ....anyway.

if you do decide to stick around.... enjoy!

[lunawish]

i think there is something exceptionally powerful about the fact that callie chose to keep quinn in her full name. her name's "callie quinn adams foster" not "callie quinn jacob adams foster" and it's just so empowering tbh.

let's think about it. callie's spent at best 8 years with donald jacob as a present parental figure and then 7 years going from home to home until she was taken in by the fosters. half of the time she spent with the name callie jacob was her being powerless, scared, and insecure. she's spent half of that time (her most formative years mind you) dealing with trauma after trauma after trauma. the jacob name at the time of her changing her last name symbolized a past she does not want to relive ever again. she never wants to feel that powerless, that weak again.

let's not also mention the fact how donald, in the eyes of a scared, traumatized teenager didn't fight for her and jude. yes he needed to get his shit together but the fact she felt abandoned does not change. he didn't go looking for callie and jude, even if it was a 'hey i need to get my stuff together but im gonna get you' would've made a huge difference.

robert quinn, during the short time he's known callie has done do much more than donald had. he's desperately tried to make up for lost time, do what he could to support her in ways that almost felt like what her moms were doing for her. yes she's got into shit, yes he's felt frustrated and annoyed by it (just like her moms) but at the end he stood by her and tried to work through the problems (just like her moms!!) him signing the abandonment papers was nothing like donald (from a teenager's perspective i must strongly emphasize) who didn't even really bother try and it just confimed callie's internalized theory that he didn't want her.

robert, stef, and lena all made her feel wanted. but ultimately the adams foster felt like home — the quinns did not. not in the same way. the feeling of home is a connection she could never quite explain. robert's her dad, stef and lena are her moms but most importantly stef and lena's family is her home... her family too. she feels safe in their house. she feels safe knowing that every person in that family is her ride or die — robert's? not so much.

anyways i can prolly write a whole essay on this but tldr; her name is something she's proud of and it's a reminder of her having people in her corner but most importantly, it reminds her that she'll always have a home.

[vorecommunitywoes]

oh im striking a nerve w u to the point where ur going off anon to send asks lol

real funny how u send tht post just a few hours after i make mine.. almost as if... u interact w the woeswoes blog constantly and check on it often. "speech recognition pattern they been having installed in their brain" we all come with that this is a nothing sentence

also cool in assuming what my pronouns are n ONLY using he/him when u want to accuse me of being a sexual predator for....

saying minors shouldnt interact w adults in vore spaces?

vore is a fetish. its not inherently sexual. but its a fetish. I KEEP SAYING THIS. its an adult topic. do you say the same for bdsm? feet? piss? incest? those dont have inherently sexual elements, what if you "changed" the terms of those to make it more "child friendly"?

want to start a minor-friendly bdsm blog? call it "the roping blog" where u want to talk to kids ab tying them up! piss? "the tinkle blog" so u can """safely""" have minors and adults talk to each other ab how much they love pissing on each other! incest? just call ur blog "wholesome family time" so u can interact with minors as an adult ab how much you want them to b a family member for you to "be closer to"! farting? just call it the "funny smells" blog where u talk to kids ab how much you want to fart on them! its totally entirely family friendly! dont let those "nasty porn words" get in ur way when u wanna talk to kids ab it, just sanitize it so they dont get scared or question u!

since theres no genitals and it now has a totally wholesome name u can do whatever u want! and even if there are there r fucking people running around saying shit like anal vore is sfw if u dont make it sexual!

this is sarcasm. fucking obviously. if ur getting this far thinking im serious. ik ur only point is going to be "theyre comparing vore to incest??????" when that wasnt the point but ur prolly gonna harp on it anyway as ur only defense against wht im saying and entirely ignore everything else. yall r predictable lol

also alt accounts and offsite?? what the fuck are u talking ab lol are u saying that anyone who thinks children shouldnt b in vore or thinks ur weird for it is me now?? that im the only person in the whole ass world who thinks that? i have a bridge to sell u

and i never said vorefessing was opikarts i was asking and waiting for proof from the person who told me

and "most likely in a [sexual] fetish space"

i have established, time and time again, that i dont like vore sexually. YOU are sexually violating MY boundaries by insisting that i have a sexual interest that i keep repeating that i dont. but i guess im not surprised that u of all people dont really care if you violate someone else! you are 24 years old, you should fucking know better.

oh, but how do i know that ur 24 (or close to that age)? even when i looked at ur blog with no indication of ur age and u keep not answering any asks ab how old u are? well the wayback machine baby!!! (from 2023 is when this wayback screenshot was taken)

on top of that, how do any of us know u dont participate in sexual fetish spaces too? when you continuously deny me the autonomy to say that i dont like vore sexually when i keep saying such (im ace and sex repulsed for fucks sake but ofc u want to try violating that anyway), whos to say that u yourself arent lying about not having a sexual fetish around vore? something to think about.

[postmanlinksbootyshorts]

just realized i was being a clown about my oc's name for so long bc i didn't wanna pull an araki and name her after a musician but id literally done that like 15 years ago

way back when i was 10 and developing a sidekick for my oc nina, ash was originally named dwayne. inspired by lil wayne.

(crash course on niyah lore but i used to be a huge lil wayne fan, i still enjoy his music to this day tbh. i prolly still have a poster of him in my closet somewhere)

anyways, proto ash was scrapped and i redesigned him into an emo kid who was supposed to eventually commit suicide, but THEN i overhauled him yet again and he eventually turned into ash, my beautiful baby girl.

nina started off being based off of me if i were like. hot and older. i DID eventually develop her to not be me* but anyways she was named niyah bc i have always been terrible at naming my ocs. i went thru my last phase of developing/redesigning my ocs and by then i'd gotten into jojo. i had developed my oc playlist by then and i came up with the idea to name her after nina simone because i was good through a nina simone phase.

i talked myself out of it because it was enough that drawing jojo art permanently altered my art style so now i can't draw twinks anymore (haemon was literally supposed to be a very tall, very lanky guy and... well). so i decided to do the next best thing and rename her something meaning fire since she has an association with fire.

so then i learn that nina has an association with fire and i went "this is fate" and named her nina simone tyson. yay

* this was fucking hard because after changing her original shoujo ass hair style, every hair style i gave her i ended up getting. somehow. i got annoyed and gave her a hairstyle i knew i would never get (locs) and things have been pretty great so far... no way im gonna get locs myself right... haha...

[aetherdoesthings]

MWAHAHA THIS IS ENIES LOBBY ANON HIIIIIIIII

Hi, m'back :D and because I love hurting myself, can I request a hanahaki au! Reader x Robin? :))) if you thought the enies lobby one was angsty, that one was just a test. I'm feeling evil to myself >:)

If you're not familiar with what hanahaki au! is, basically nothing changes about the world except there's now a disease called hanahaki disease, and essentially, someone can get hanahaki disease when they have unrequited love for someone. Symptoms of hanahaki disease include flowers growing in the victim's lungs, and the first signs of the disease come when the victim starts coughing petals. The longer the hanahaki disease prevails (it can go on for years), the more intense and painful the coughing can get and can eventually lead to coughing up whole flowers (stem, petals, and all) until the victim eventually dies. (Fun, right? 🥰) Hanahaki disease can only be cured if the victim decides to lose their feelings for someone or if the victim's crush likes them back.

Typically in Hanahaki au! Fics, the victim hides their symptoms in fear of revealing their romantic feelings. In some fics, certain actions can trigger their coughing, for example, if someone mentions the victim's crush's name, or if the victim sees their crush with someone else, they may start intensely coughing at that moment. Although less rare, some fics make the hanahaki disease non-lethal and more of just a life convenience. This is an option you can put as well. I'm not picky. :)

I thought Hanahaki Disease might fit given Robin's Devil Fruit. Reader would have the Hanahaki disease (so reader likes robin, but robin doesn't like her (yet?)) and because I love to share pain, I'll let you decide reader's fate :). Does she let go of her feelings to live, does Robin like her back to live, or does reader die without the chance of confessing?

I can go more in depth if need be, whether about the plot if you decide that you don't know what direction to go or the disease itself, but I thought that this kind of au leaves a lot of creativity and openness for you in terms of how you would want to approach the plot. How much are you willing to crank up the angst scale? [can you tell I'm a masochist? :) I am a believer in passive aggressive smiley emoticons]

If this is an au/concept you feel uncomfortable writing, please feel free to say no. I know this is a lot, and even if you don't do it, I still love you and your works! Thank you in advance, regardless if you choose to do this request or not. Sorry again for the long ask. 😅

-Enies Lobby anon

holy shit that sounds so angsty and sad and so depressing

oh eneis lobby anon i'm so going to write it just to break your heart

prolly gonna take a week cuz im backed up on requests rn 😭

(also eneis lobby anon can you pls resend the req just so i can see it in my inbox again so i remember tysm 😭🫶🏻)

[vcutparis]

FIRST OF ALL, HAPPY BIRTHDAY OMG YAYY!!!! 🫂🫂🫂❤️‍🩹☹️‼️ (congratulations on that fabulous date you had on your bday eve (?) lmfao WE LOVE WHEN YEARNERS GET THEEE ITALICISED OH MOMENT)

He’s like one of those girls you’d befriend in highschool who’d show up on the hallways suddenly judging your entire soul on a random Wednesday, and I don’t like it. okay listen let them cook. because yes.

What does the unrecognizable dude have to do with Hongjoong and his unreadable behavior? Nothing.

SIRENS BLAZING LOUDLY. NEW INFO ABOUT THE LORE DROPPED GASP? SO LIKE THAT GUY FROM THE SECOND CHAPTER MIGHT NOT BE HONGJOONG?? OR MAYBE READER LOST THE MEMORY? THE HEADACHES!!!! dude....my multiverse theory looking more and more truthful at this point. but whatever ive been always wrong when it comes to guessing shit. live commentary always stewpid if its me MEH

THE TIME IS EXACTLY THE SAME HELP????? 2: 37AM WHAT WITCHCRAFT ARE YOU DOING???? TEACH THIS NUGU WITCH SOME OF YOUR WAYS

pompidou my beloved baobei. i know you're gonna help us conquest this journey well.

“Maybe I was the one who left him in an alternate reality, and this is the price I have to pay for it,” you joke, but it only feels like a pathetic attempt to make yourself feel better. idk i prolly leaning too much into the alternate reality theory too much maybe its just a slow burn fic....but nvm im probably gonna make a fool of myself. let me jus believe that pompidou is the main character BYE.

slipping through my fingers....HONGJOONG TALKED ABOUT HIS DREAMS SLIPPING THROUGH HIS FINGERS. HOLYYYYY SHITTTTTT wait a moment oh my reader being vocal about their thoughts to a kitty...oh boy do i feel uncomfy but at the same time so so so seen?

la vie en rose makes an appearance again (boy jupiter on your playlist is playing, can i cry even louder?) THE REPEATED MOTIFS ARE THE SOUL OF YOUR WRITING!!!!!!!!!! (i type in caps so much im sorry i lose my demureness in winter months EUGH)

Then, Wooyoung shook his head slowly. “You’re lying to yourself. And honestly? It’s pathetic, Hongjoong. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

cue a big loud gasp. honestly i dont even who i am crying for lmfao, its just that i am crying. "never seen you like this" and its your mfing best friend saying that GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD YOU HAMSTER BOY! WE LOVE YOU WOOYOUNG FOR SMACKING SOME SENSE OF REALITY INTO LUVRBOY!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU (HIGH FIVES) id still like to be the little devil on his shoulder tho.

what the hell...actually happened oh my god. middle school girl? faceless guy?? from middle school?? name changed? both of them having opposite fears but also kind of same but somehow same situation in the same timeline. 😭😭😭? bruh now i know for a fact they aint talking abt each other.

boy my brain mushy from the theories and emotional stuff, i feel muc much more connected to joong now holy shit (pats head in comfort)

crying like how i used to cry reading those wattpad stories under my blanket...oh hello real angst slow burn.

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Eleven: You Wonder why I’m Bitter

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 8.2k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ Alone and aching for the connection that once felt so natural, you reluctantly turn to an unlikely companion: Pompidou, who listens to you pour out all the longing you’ve fought so hard to bury. While you grapple with the emptiness left by Hongjoong’s sudden withdrawal, he, too, finds himself lost, wrestling with the very feelings he’s tried to deny. Haunted by memories and choices he can’t quite reconcile, Hongjoong is caught between the familiarity of the past and the confusing reality of the present.

a/n: was supposed to upload this on the 27th cause that’s my birthday but i just can’t wait any longer 😅 keep an eye out for the littlest of details because nothing is as it seems in this chapter :P lmk what you guys think!

tags: @beabatiny @babymbbatinygirl

First of all, I hate myself. Second of all, I hate myself. Oh, and did I already mention that I hate myself? I just don’t know what to do anymore! It feels like it’s been a whole decade ever since I last picked up a pen to scribble on this godforsaken journal… I wish I could just go back to the time I was writing the page behind the one I’m writing on right now and just cancel my flight to Paris. This is all so frustrating, you know? Fashion Week is nearing, and I am not prepared at all—no, not even a little. I’m supposed to be spending my hours inside the studio practicing runway walks and testing out facial expressions, but no! I’m way too afraid of crossing paths with Hongjoong to even think about the consequences of not taking my preparations seriously! And speaking of Hongjoong…

He’s driving me to the edge of my sanity. I don’t know what’s going on with him—okay, scratch that, I definitely do. I just don’t get why he’s acting so avoidant all of a sudden… I mean, like, okay, I would understand his unprovoked need for distance between us if we actually kissed that night, but we didn’t. The farthest step we were able to take was just him holding onto the sides of my face and me looking at his lips like I’m a starved dog looking at its first meal of the day before Wooyoung fortunately interrupted us—so why is he acting up?

He’s like one of those girls you’d befriend in highschool who’d show up on the hallways suddenly judging your entire soul on a random Wednesday, and I don’t like it. Seriously, what’s his problem? He made me accustomed to his usual sweet and caring persona, and all of a sudden, he wants to act like this? What have I done wrong? Wasn’t it literally him who initiated the… whatever I’m supposed to call what happened that night?

I’m just concerned, you know. It’s been two weeks, and yet he’s still avoiding me like I’m the plague. I haven’t been receiving any messages from him at all lately, either. Even Madame Dupont is asking me why she no longer sees the “small young handsome boy” waiting for me outside the apartment building while leaning against his car. Wooyoung’s been trying to persuade me into confirming his theory that Hongjoong and I are going through a lovers’ quarrel for three days now, too. And guess who’s the most troubled of them all? Seonghwa. He’s been doing his best to put us back into speaking terms for a while now, and I don’t know why—I swear I didn’t ask him to do that.

Everyone is worried. Everyone but him.

You know, this brings me back to that unrecognizable faceless guy I see in some of my blurry flashbacks. I remember him asking me how long I’ve been bottling up my emotions, and when I told him I’ve been doing so for pretty much my entire life, he told me to consider writing in a journal.

What does the unrecognizable dude have to do with Hongjoong and his unreadable behavior? Nothing.

I just noticed that it’s been a while since I last wrote a journal entry, and… it’s been a while since I last let my emotions unravel. I remember the words that came out of his mouth that day.

“When you can’t figure out what you’re feeling, or if you need to let it all out, the only thing you have to do is pull this out along with a pen, and from then on, you can start writing away. Let yourself get lost in your own world.”

You know what, in a way, I think he and Hongjoong actually have something in common. I know I can’t say much because I only have one memory of this guy, but he spoke with as much wisdom as Hongjoong does. Also… “let yourself get lost in your own world.” That’s honestly the most Hongjoong-ish advice someone could ever give, given how he himself gets lost in his own world of artistry, too.

I just wish he’d stop ignoring me. I can’t help but feel like this is all somehow my fault… Am I just hurting myself by expecting things to suddenly go back to the way they used to be?

As you closed your journal with a weary sigh, your eyes drifted to the dim glow of your bedside clock reading 2:37 a.m. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of distant traffic, yet you felt far from at peace. It was a night for sleep, yet your mind wouldn’t quiet; thoughts of Hongjoong twisted and turned within you, refusing to settle.

“Why does it feel like this?” you murmured, pressing your palms into your face, as if that could somehow soothe the ache in your chest. You longed for comfort, for answers, even for a brief respite from the confusion that had become your constant companion. “If only that faceless guy could telepathically whisper some words of wisdom to me right now…”

Two weeks had passed since you last shared any words with Hongjoong—two weeks where every glance, every passing moment, felt laced with an unspoken tension that only deepened the rift between you. It was all becoming painfully real, the shift so clear to everyone around you. But no one knew the truth—the moment you almost kissed, the silent proximity that had left you dizzy and wondering. Even Seonghwa, in his genuine concern, couldn’t know the pang of vulnerability that had filled that night, the fear and excitement mingling as you’d come closer than ever before.

Your mind flashed back to the other day when the ache of his absence had been sharpest. You passed by him in a hallway, hoping for a flicker of his usual warmth, his soft gaze that once reassured you of your place in his world. But he’d brushed past with such indifference—not even nodding to acknowledge your presence, a chill in his demeanor that left you hollow. And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving you alone with a rising sense of loss.

Without thinking, you picked up your phone and opened your gallery. Photos of Hongjoong filled your screen, and your eyes drift over candid snapshots—some of you and Hongjoong working late in the studio, others of him laughing or looking thoughtful, moments caught by your camera that now feel like glimpses into another lifetime. There’s a picture of him outside your apartment building, waving you goodbye one evening. Another shot of him hunched over his desk in concentration, unaware that you’d snapped the photo from across the room. Then, there’s a particularly precious one of the two of you, taken in his office—which was likely Wooyoung’s doing.

As you scroll, an ache blossoms within you, spreading in slow, insistent waves that make your chest feel tight. You can feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, and it catches you off guard. Why now? Why does he, of all people, have this power over you? You swipe at the tears, frustrated by the sudden swell of emotion. It’s not supposed to be like this, you tell yourself. Hongjoong is supposed to be your friend, your mentor, the one person in Paris who helped you find your footing when everything felt foreign. But as the images blur beneath the glisten of unshed tears, you can’t help but wonder if that’s all he’ll ever be—someone whose warmth once felt like home, and whose absence now feels like a loss you’re not ready to face.

The soft scratching at your window pulls you abruptly from your thoughts. For a moment, you freeze, glancing back at the phone you’d just placed on your desk. Carefully, you grab your journal—a flimsy defense, maybe, but it’s better than nothing. Heart pounding just slightly, you step forward, inching closer to the window.

When you peek over, you’re met with a familiar sight: Pompidou, the resident stray cat who had made the apartment building his kingdom, sits with one paw pressed to the glass, his usual unamused expression aimed your way.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, feeling the tension drain from your shoulders as you let out a soft laugh. Setting your journal on the bed, you reach over to open the window, letting him slip inside with practiced ease. He slinks past you with the air of someone who owns the place and makes himself right at home, hopping onto your bed and circling until he’s claimed his spot in the center.

You sit beside him, running a gentle hand over his soft fur. It’s strange how much you missed him. For the past few weeks, your room felt emptier without his occasional visits—without that extra little creature who just… understood you, in a way. And now, with Hongjoong’s absence haunting you, Pompidou couldn’t have come at a better time.

The thought hits you harder than you expect: here you are, at your lowest, relying on a cat for comfort simply because the one person you’re used to confiding in has become distant, almost like a stranger. The ache in your chest intensifies, and before you know it, you’re lying down next to him, resting your head on the bed and gazing at his calm, indifferent eyes. It feels silly, pathetic even, to be speaking your heart to a cat, but in this silence, with no one else to turn to, you let yourself unravel.

“Pompidou,” you whisper, voice barely holding steady, “I… I don’t know what I did wrong. Everything was fine, wasn’t it?” Your fingers tremble as they thread through his fur, a warmth grounding you in the midst of your unraveling. “I don’t know how we ended up here. He’s always been there for me, and now… it’s like he’s vanished. And I’m trying, I really am, but every time I reach out, it’s like he’s miles away.”

A sharp breath catches in your throat, and you look up at the ceiling, fighting against the tears stinging your eyes. “It’s probably all my fault,” you confess in a whisper that breaks. “Maybe I was too much, or maybe I should have… I don’t know, said something differently, done something better. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him to eat dinner that night so that…” A bitter chuckle slips out as you squeeze your eyes shut. “It’s funny, you know. All my life, I’ve been terrified of being alone, of people walking out… and now here I am, trying to be okay with him pulling away like it’s nothing.”

Pompidou shifts slightly, his warm body pressing into your side, a small reminder that he’s there, and he’s not leaving. You let your hand drop to your chest, feeling the dull ache that’s settled there. “I just miss him, Pompidou. I miss the way he used to look at me like I mattered. Now, he can’t even look me in the eyes. And I don’t know why I’m clinging to that, why I’m hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and go back to being who he was.”

The silence swallows you for a moment. “Maybe it’s because, deep down, I’m still the same pathetic teenager from Arcadia Bay who’s scared that she doesn’t deserve anything better. That she’s always going to be left behind, and this… this is just proof.” Your voice falters, words thick with pain you can no longer hold back. “And if he leaves, then maybe it’s what I deserve.”

“Maybe I was the one who left him in an alternate reality, and this is the price I have to pay for it,” you joke, but it only feels like a pathetic attempt to make yourself feel better.

The pain is so sharp it almost feels physical, a hollow ache that makes every breath feel heavier than the last. You close your eyes, fighting against the helplessness clawing at your insides, but the words keep pouring out, jagged and raw, as though voicing them might lessen the weight—even if it’s only to a cat who can’t respond.

“Do you know what’s worse?” you whisper, fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt over your chest as if you could hold yourself together by sheer will. “It’s that I can’t even be mad at him. I want to be—believe me, I’ve tried. I tell myself he’s the one pulling away, that he’s the one who’s changed, but then I start wondering… what if I pushed him to this? What if I’m the reason he’s slipping through my fingers?”

A soft tremor runs through your hands, and you curl them into fists, teeth gritted as you force the tears back. “I keep thinking… maybe he’s right to distance himself. Maybe there’s something broken in me, something that just drives people away. And the worst part is, I keep wishing he’d come back, like I’d somehow be enough if I could just—”

Your voice catches, breaking into a whisper as you bury your face in your hands, barely holding in the sob that threatens to spill out. “I just don’t understand. He was my safe place, Pompidou. For the first time in so long, I actually felt like I mattered. He made me feel seen. And now… now I feel invisible all over again, like everything we shared was just temporary, like it didn’t mean anything.”

Pompidou shifts closer, his soft purr rumbling beneath your fingertips as you stroke his fur, a small solace in the middle of this storm.

“I try to convince myself that I’m fine, that I can go on without him,” you continue, voice cracking as the words spill out unchecked. “But the truth is, I’m terrified. I’m scared that if he leaves… if he’s really gone, I’ll be alone again, just like before. And I hate myself for feeling this way, for being so… so weak.”

The tears finally break free, slipping down your cheeks in a silent flood. “What does that say about me? That I’m so dependent on him, that I can’t even imagine my life without him? I thought I was stronger than this, that I’d learned how to stand on my own. But now… now it’s like I’m right back to that scared, lonely kid I used to be, clinging to anyone who shows me a hint of kindness.”

You pull your knees to your chest, holding yourself as tightly as you can, as if you could somehow shield yourself from the emptiness swallowing you whole. “I can’t stop thinking that maybe this is all I deserve. That maybe I’m meant to be alone. Maybe he’s finally seeing me for who I am, and he’s realizing I’m not worth it.”

Your shoulders shake as the sobs escape, quiet and raw, each one cutting through you like glass. Pompidou curls closer, his little face pressing against your arm, as though he understands in his own way. But his silent comfort only deepens the ache, a reminder that the person you need more than anything isn’t here, and you’re left holding yourself together with nothing but frayed threads of hope.

With a shuddering breath, you finally admit the fear you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. “What if he doesn’t come back, Pompidou? What if this is it? I don’t think… I don’t think I can handle losing him. Not like this.”

Your voice drops to a whisper, the words coming slow and soft as you gaze out the window, eyes unfocused. “I just… I miss him, Pompidou,” you murmur, fingers absently tracing patterns against the sheets.

“I miss all the little things that made it feel like he was a part of me, like he was woven into my days without me even realizing it. I miss the way he’d send me random sketches, the ones that made no sense but made me laugh anyway, like he was letting me in on his little worlds. I miss… I miss how he’d always have this ridiculous drink order for me every time we’d meet up at the café where we switched up our notebooks with one another before we met for the first time. It’s like he knew exactly what I’d need, even if I didn’t.”

The memories wash over you, and you can’t stop the warmth from pooling in your chest as you picture those moments. “I wish we could go back to that time when things were… simple. When I could sit beside him without feeling like the whole world was shifting under my feet. When he’d laugh and look at me like I was… like I was something special, you know?”

Your voice trembles, and you tighten your grip on the sheets. “And the thing is… it was just easy with him. He’d be there, always making me feel like nothing could go wrong as long as we were together. He’d be there with his quiet, comforting presence, and I could just… be. I didn’t have to pretend or put on some mask. It was like he could see right through me, and somehow, he didn’t care about all the mess he found.”

You take a deep breath, the words spilling out like a plea. “I just want to go back, Pompidou. Back to before everything felt so fragile, before that almost-kiss, before this… this distance. I wish I could reach out and take it all back. I’d give anything just to have things feel normal again.”

Pompidou tilts his head, eyes blinking up at you, and you can’t help but laugh, a soft, broken sound that catches in your throat. “I know it sounds silly, doesn’t it? I mean, how could I expect anything to be the same after that? But I can’t help it, Pompidou. I want to go back to when he’d smile at me like that, when I didn’t have to wonder if I was the one pushing him away.”

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of each memory anchor you down. “I miss his laugh. I miss his stupid jokes. I miss the way he’d lean closer when he talked about his dreams, his voice getting all serious like he could see every detail in his mind. And I miss… I miss feeling like I belonged somewhere, like I belonged with him. I miss how he’d look at me with this warmth, like I was enough, just as I was.”

The words come out like a broken whisper, a confession you’ve been holding inside for far too long. “I can’t stop missing him. I wish… I wish I could go back to that last night before everything shifted. Before the night we nearly kissed, before I even realized what I felt. I wish I could’ve just stayed there, in that moment, without letting any of it change.”

You hug your knees, curling up as the ache settles deeper, heavier. “But I can’t. And now it’s as if I’m left with pieces of him in everything around me, and I don’t know how to put myself back together without him.”

You pull yourself up, exhaling slowly, and walk over to your desk. The room feels quiet, still heavy with everything you’ve let out, yet somehow emptier too, as if releasing the words has left you hollow. With a shaky hand, you pick up your phone and make your way back to bed, curling up beside Pompidou, who has already claimed his spot against your pillow. Settling into the blankets, you scroll through your contacts, your thumb hovering over Hongjoong’s icon.

It’s just his initials next to a simple photo he once sent—a candid moment he probably forgot about, something so ordinary that it’s precious now. The way he looked when he didn’t realize anyone was watching: a slight smile, eyes softened by something he found funny, maybe even a bit endearing. The sight makes your chest tighten, and you let yourself scroll up, reading through old conversations like leafing through the pages of a treasured book.

Each message brings back flashes of shared laughter and late-night ramblings, little moments where time seemed to pause, and it was just the two of you—untouchable, safe. You linger on a message he sent on a rainy afternoon, a random joke he thought would cheer you up. Your lips curl into a faint smile, but it’s bittersweet. There was a time when it was so easy, so effortless, like breathing. He had a way of knowing exactly when you needed a reminder that he was there. But now, that comfort feels distant, unreachable.

A tear slips down your cheek again before you realize it, and you hastily swipe it away, but the sorrow wells up again, slipping past your guard. As if sensing your pain, Pompidou extends a soft paw, resting it gently below your eyes, and you feel his fur against your cheek, grounding you in a way that words can’t. His small gesture tugs a quiet, breathy laugh from you, despite the ache in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to catch your sadness, pulling it away piece by piece, his wide eyes fixed on yours with an empathy you can almost feel.

You let your head fall, hugging Pompidou close, allowing yourself to finally surrender to the pain and let it wash over you without restraint. The loneliness, the longing, the hollow spaces Hongjoong’s absence has left in you—all of it spills out as you clutch the feline tightly, letting his warmth and steady breathing lull you into a fragile sense of comfort. The room seems to blur, softening around you as the weight of everything you’ve been holding back presses into you.

The tears come faster now, unstoppable, and your quiet sobs fill the silence, raw and unfiltered. It’s just you and Pompidou, and for a moment, it feels like you’re not truly alone. There, in the quiet solace of your room, you cling to that small comfort, letting yourself feel every ounce of longing, letting yourself miss him—fully, desperately, hopelessly.

—

Meanwhile, Hongjoong stood in his office, the warm, nostalgic tones of “La Vie en Rose” playing softly from the record player behind him. His gaze fixed on the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and he fought to keep his emotions in check. Each note lingered in the air, pulling him deeper into the web of memories he was desperately trying to forget. This song, of all songs—he could still remember how it had been playing when the two of you had stood together in the flower shop, laughing over bouquets and trading light-hearted jokes as if the world beyond didn’t exist.

Part of him knew he could walk over and turn it off. The music was his to control, after all. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. The melody was the last fragile thread that kept him tethered to you, a reminder of the warmth he felt in your presence, the comfort of knowing someone understood him.

The dim light from the city outside cast a soft glow over his office, illuminating the expanse of papers scattered across his desk, the outlines of unfinished sketches and hastily scrawled notes, all reminders of the whirlwind he’d buried himself in since he started pushing you away. Each corner of the room felt saturated with memories of you—and it was strange how a space that had once felt so alive now seemed hollow, absent of the warmth you’d brought into it.

He tried to focus on the skyline again, his eyes tracing the glittering lights of the city. It was an attempt to ground himself, to pull himself back from the turmoil inside him. But tonight, every bit of stillness he attempted felt false, every piece of composure barely hanging by a thread. All he could think about was you—the absence of your presence filling every empty space in his mind, as if refusing to be silenced.

He turned slowly from the window, allowing his gaze to wander over his desk. It was almost impossible to remember the last time he’d felt fully at ease in this room. The stacks of designs that had once held so much promise now felt like hollow accomplishments, each one only reminding him of the fire you’d helped him ignite. His eyes landed on a small pendant lying amidst the clutter. The flower encased inside had faded slightly, its once-vibrant petals softened by time. He picked it up, cradling it carefully in his hand, feeling a strange tenderness rise within him.

You’d given him that flower, pressing it into his hand with a shy smile as you murmured something about it bringing him luck. He could still recall the way your fingers had lingered against his, the brief but electric touch that had left him wondering if you felt it too. “For good luck,” you’d said, your eyes sparkling in that way they always did when you felt especially close to him.

Hongjoong swallowed, feeling a tightness in his chest as he held the pendant closer. How was it that something so small could carry the weight of so many memories? He closed his eyes, and the warmth of your smile flashed in his mind, as vivid as if you were standing beside him. But now, as he held the pendant, it felt heavier, like a tiny piece of the past he was terrified of losing forever.

In his mind, he slipped back to that night—the one that had started as an ordinary work session, yet had unraveled into something far more vulnerable. He could still feel the closeness of the room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows as you both worked side by side, immersed in the quiet moment you shared.

You’d shared things that night that were never meant to leave the room. He could still hear your voice, low and hesitant, as you revealed the fears you held closest to your heart. “Being left alone,” you’d admitted, your words raw and unguarded. The truth of it had lingered between you, a quiet vulnerability that had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

When you turned the question back on him, he’d hesitated, feeling the weight of his own guarded secrets pressing against his chest. But in that quiet space, under the gentle glow of the lamp, he’d found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to in years. “Losing myself,” he’d whispered, his voice barely audible, but enough for you to hear. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Now, standing alone in his empty office, Hongjoong felt the irony of it all washing over him. He’d tried so hard to protect himself, to build walls so high that even you couldn’t reach them. But now, it felt as if he had developed a new fear bigger than losing himself—losing you.

A quiet knock on the door broke his reverie, and he tensed, slipping the pendant into his pocket as he turned. Wooyoung’s face appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of Hongjoong standing alone, the haunting strains of La Vie en Rose still spinning softly from the record player across the room.

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered to the player, where the melody had been looping for what must have been the better part of an hour. “Still here?” he asked quietly, a hint of concern threading his tone.

Hongjoong forced a slight smile, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Wooyoung stepped further into the room, his gaze sharp as it settled on Hongjoong. “You know…” Wooyoung began, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall, “the world can see how miserable you are. Including her—especially her.”

Hongjoong stiffened, the forced nonchalance slipping from his face as he turned away, staring intently at the record player as if it held all the answers he was struggling to find. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, the words feeling hollow even to his own ears.

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung’s tone softened, a hint of exasperation breaking through. “I know you. I know how much you care about her. And I know you’re running from something you can’t outrun. But you’re not fooling anyone by pretending it doesn’t matter.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his mind racing with all the reasons he’d built to keep you at a distance. Each one felt logical, safe, a way to protect himself from something he couldn’t quite name. But here, with Wooyoung standing there, watching him with that steady gaze, he felt every layer he’d built start to unravel.

“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, barely audible above the music.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning softer, almost pleading. “Then what are you doing, Hongjoong? Because from where I’m standing, all I see is someone too scared to reach for what he really wants.”

Hongjoong’s heart twisted painfully, Wooyoung’s words hitting far too close to home. He felt the weight of everything he’d tried to suppress rising within him, a tidal wave of emotions he’d buried so deeply he’d convinced himself they were gone. But Wooyoung’s words had brought them to the surface, and now, there was no escaping them.

A silence stretched between them, and Hongjoong’s gaze fell to the floor. In that moment, he felt utterly vulnerable, as though Wooyoung could see right through him, could see the aching desire he’d tried so hard to deny. He didn’t have to say it—Wooyoung already knew.

Hongjoong’s fingers were still curled around the pendant in his pocket when Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “So,” Wooyoung began, breaking the silence, “are you really going to stand here, pretending everything’s fine?”

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched, his shoulders tensing. He wanted to brush off Wooyoung’s words, to deflect with some casual response that would keep the carefully built walls intact. But his mind was a battlefield, each memory of you cutting through his defenses like a blade.

“Everything is fine,” he replied tersely. He didn’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes, focusing instead on a spot just beyond his shoulder.

Wooyoung’s brows knitted together, clearly unconvinced. “Right. That’s why you’ve been playing her favorite song on loop for the last hour. That’s why you’ve been holed up in here, avoiding anything that reminds you of her.” He shook his head, his tone equal parts exasperation and worry. “Hongjoong, you’re not fooling me. I know you, and I know you’re running from something—from someone.”

Hongjoong let out a low, frustrated sigh, finally looking up at Wooyoung. “Wooyoung, just drop it, alright?” He forced a tense smile, attempting to sound dismissive. “This… whatever you think is going on, it’s all in your head. We were just friends.”

But Wooyoung didn’t budge. “Friends?” He let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of disbelief. “You really want to go with that? Because the way you’re acting… it doesn’t look like you’re just missing a friend. You’re avoiding her like she’s a stranger, but then you’re here, playing her favorite song over and over, clutching onto that pendant like it’s the last piece of her you have.”

Hongjoong’s fingers instinctively tightened around the pendant, and he felt a pang of frustration rise within him. He didn’t want to admit that Wooyoung’s words struck too close to home. “I told you, it’s nothing like that,” he bit back, his tone sharper than intended. “You’re turning this into something it isn’t.”

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his gaze not faltering. “Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re acting like a guy who’s desperately trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t even believe.”

“Wooyoung—”

“Hongjoong, you can’t keep lying to yourself.” Wooyoung’s tone softened, his voice carrying a gentleness that seemed to cut deeper than the words themselves. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I do know that you care about her. You’re not fooling anyone by pretending this distance is ‘better’ for either of you.”

Hongjoong’s patience began to fray, his frustration morphing into anger. He shot Wooyoung a glare, his voice rising. “It is better, Wooyoung. She… she deserves better. She doesn’t need to be pulled into whatever mess I am.” He paused, catching his breath, his anger mingling with something closer to desperation. “I’m not what’s best for her. And it’s better for the both of us if I keep my distance.”

Wooyoung’s expression shifted, his gaze hardening as he stepped closer, unwilling to let Hongjoong brush him off. “So, what? You think pushing her away, acting like she means nothing, is somehow good for her? You really think she’s better off without you?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong replied, his tone final, but the conviction in his voice was starting to waver.

Wooyoung gave him a long, scrutinizing look, and for a moment, the silence between them was thick with unspoken truths. Then, Wooyoung shook his head slowly. “You’re lying to yourself. And honestly? It’s pathetic, Hongjoong. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

The words hit Hongjoong like a slap, and a flash of anger surged within him, simmering beneath the surface. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “I’m doing this for her, so just… stop.”

But Wooyoung wouldn’t relent. “You’re not doing this for her. You’re doing this because you’re afraid. Afraid to admit how much she means to you. Afraid of what might happen if you actually let her in. Whatever you’re afraid of, whatever you think is keeping you from being with her… maybe it’s worth rethinking. Because if you keep running like this, you’re going to lose her. And then what?”

Hongjoong felt his control slipping, the carefully constructed barriers he’d built starting to crack under the weight of Wooyoung’s words. He clenched his fists, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to keep his voice steady. “This isn’t about fear.”

“Isn’t it?” Wooyoung’s voice softened, a hint of understanding breaking through the frustration. “Hongjoong… I get it. You’re scared of losing yourself. Of losing control. But she’s not the one who’s going to make that happen. You are, by doing this. By trying so hard to keep her out.”

Hongjoong stayed silent, his chest tightening as Wooyoung’s words began to sink in. He wanted to deny it, to push back with the same conviction he’d clung to for weeks, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew there was truth in Wooyoung’s words.

Finally, Wooyoung let out a sigh, his tone softening even further. “Listen, man. I don’t know what almost happened, or why you’re so determined to stay away from her, but you have to ask yourself… is this really what you want?”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind flashing back to that night in your apartment—the feeling of your hand brushing his, the way your gaze had lingered on him, the unspoken tension that had nearly pulled him into something he couldn’t name. He’d wanted so badly to close that distance, to feel your lips against his, to let go of the fear and doubt that had held him back. But just as he’d leaned closer, Wooyoung’s call had snapped him out of the moment, bringing him crashing back to reality.

“Do you even understand how much she’s hurting, Hongjoong?” And there it was again—the harshness in Wooyoung’s tone. “Seonghwa told me she’s tearing herself apart over this. She doesn’t eat right anymore, and she barely even sleeps. She spends her nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong, wondering if she’s the problem.”

The words landed like a punch to Hongjoong’s gut, leaving him breathless. Images of you flashed through his mind—moments when he’d caught glimpses of your smile faltering, your laughter quieting, the spark in your eyes dimming little by little. He’d told himself it was just his imagination, that you were fine. But Wooyoung’s words shattered that illusion entirely.

“She thinks she did something wrong, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung continued, his voice filled with barely contained anger. “She actually believes she’s the reason you’re running. Every time you disappear, every time you pull away, she thinks it’s because of something she did. And the worst part? She doesn’t even blame you. She blames herself.”

Hongjoong’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as guilt clawed at him.

“Seonghwa told me she asked him if she was too much. Can you believe that?” Wooyoung’s voice cracked. “She actually thinks she’s too much for you. That she’s somehow burdening you, dragging you down. She’s convinced herself that if she were just… less, maybe you wouldn’t be running.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched, a wave of nausea rolling over him as he realized the full extent of the pain he’d caused. You—who had always been so vibrant, so unapologetically yourself—were now questioning every part of who you were, trying to shrink yourself down to avoid scaring him away.

“She’s not even angry at you, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice barely above a whisper now, each word a dagger aimed straight at Hongjoong’s heart. “She doesn’t hate you for this. She just… she thinks she’s not enough. Or that she’s too much. Either way, she’s convinced that she’s the problem.”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind reeling. He could feel the anchor of your pain weighing down on him; He’d done this to you—turned you into a shadow of yourself, left you grappling with doubts and insecurities that weren’t yours to bear.

“You’ve been so busy hiding behind your own fears,” Wooyoung continued, “that you haven’t even stopped to consider what this is doing to her. You’re so terrified of being hurt again that you’re hurting her—over and over, every day, with every step you take away from her.”

Hongjoong opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but the words caught in his throat. What could he possibly say to justify this? How could he explain that he’d been running not to hurt you, but to protect himself? It sounded so selfish, so small in the face of everything you were going through.

“And you know what’s really twisted?” Wooyoung’s voice dropped, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. “She’d take you back in a heartbeat. Despite everything, she’d still look at you the same way she did before you started pushing her away. She’d still forgive you, still try to see the good in you, because that’s who she is. That’s how much she cares.”

Hongjoong felt something break inside him, a quiet, shattering realization that left him reeling. You would forgive him. He knew that. He could see it in his mind—the way you’d smile softly, the way your eyes would fill with understanding, even now. Even after everything, you’d welcome him back, arms open, heart exposed, waiting.

“She deserves better, Joong.” Wooyoung’s words were softer now, the anger replaced by a raw, unfiltered honesty. “She deserves someone who doesn’t make her question her worth. Someone who doesn’t make her feel like she’s somehow wrong just for being herself. And if you can’t be that for her… if you’re too wrapped up in your own fears to let her in… then you need to let her go.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened, a hollow ache spreading through him as he struggled to process it all. He didn’t want to let you go. He couldn’t. But the thought of holding onto you only to keep hurting you, to keep dragging you through his own tangled web of insecurities and fears—it was unbearable.

“She’s barely holding up. She hides it well, but Seonghwa can see it. He told me how she sits alone for hours, just staring off into space, like she’s lost something she can’t find. She keeps her phone close, hoping maybe, just maybe, you’ll reach out. But every time you don’t... it breaks her a little more.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened painfully, each word slicing through him like a blade. He could see it so clearly now, every painful moment he’d forced you through. How you must’ve waited for messages that never came, must’ve spent countless nights wondering where things had gone wrong. The thought of you sitting there, lost in your own pain, while he’d been so focused on his own fears, was more than he could bear.

“And don’t think she hasn’t tried to talk to you.” Wooyoung’s voice turned sharp, accusatory. “Seonghwa told me how many times she’s wanted to reach out, just to make sure you’re okay, just to see if you’d give her even a scrap of reassurance. But every time, she stops herself. She doesn’t want to bother you, doesn’t want to seem needy. She’s holding back everything she feels because she’s afraid it’ll push you further away.”

Wooyoung’s eyes softened slightly, but the fire of his conviction remained. “You need to understand, Hongjoong. This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about her too. You’re hurting her, and if you don’t start realizing that, it’ll be too late. She’s going to break, and I don’t think she’ll come back from it.”

Hongjoong felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. The thought of you shattering into pieces because of his cowardice was unbearable. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, to say that he was doing this for you, for the both of you. But deep down, he knew it was a lie. He was only trying to shield himself from the fear of loss, the same fear that had haunted him since that girl from his past had walked away.

“I can’t… I can’t lose anyone again, Woo,” Hongjoong finally admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “What if she sees me for who I really am? What if she realizes I’m not worth it?”

Wooyoung shook his head, frustration flashing across his features. “That’s where you’re wrong. She already sees you, and she loves you for all the parts you’re trying to hide. You think you’re protecting her by staying away, but you’re only pushing her further into despair.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced, a whirlwind of emotions colliding within him. “How do you know? How do you know she feels that way?”

“Because I’ve talked to Seonghwa, and he cares about her, Joong! He’s seen her cry over you. He told me she broke down one night, just sitting on the floor of her room, wondering why you were so distant. She kept saying she must’ve done something wrong. Do you want that for her? Do you want to be the reason she loses herself?”

The image of you curled up alone, tears streaming down your face while grappling with your worth, sliced through Hongjoong. The sheer guilt of it settled heavily in his chest, suffocating him. He had wanted to protect you, but in doing so, he had only hurt you more.

Hongjoong lingered in silence, the weight of his unspoken fears casting a shadow over the room. He could feel Wooyoung’s gaze on him, a

persistent pressure urging him to confront the thoughts he’d been too afraid to voice.

“What if…” The words caught in his throat, his voice strained with the vulnerability he couldn’t hide. “What if I take the next step, and she leaves? What if she ends up leaving just like—”

Wooyoung interrupted him by reaching forward, pressing his fingers gently but firmly to Hongjoong’s lips, shushing him with an authority that surprised them both. “I know what comes next, Hongjoong,” he murmured. “You don’t need to say it.”

Hongjoong stiffened, pulling back ever so slightly, a touch of annoyance flickering across his face. “You think it’s that simple?” he muttered, frustration bleeding into his voice. “You think it’s easy to just… forget?”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, though he held firm. “I think you’re holding onto something that’s long gone, Joong. And you’re letting it get in the way of something real.” He paused, leaning forward. “So what if the girl you loved back in middle school left you? You’re still letting her be the one who decides what happens now?”

Hongjoong’s mouth opened, then closed, his defenses crumbling under Wooyoung’s scrutiny. He could feel the words bubbling up, the excuses he’d used to justify his fears over and over, but this time, they didn’t come. The silence between them grew heavier, and he felt himself shrinking under Wooyoung’s eyes.

“It’s not about her,” Hongjoong finally managed, his voice a strained whisper. “It’s just… this was exactly how it started back then. The same moments, the same feelings, and then…” His voice broke, a haunted look creeping into his eyes as the memories clawed their way to the surface. “And then it all just fell apart the moment she left without a word.”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, his gaze filled with something close to sympathy, but there was no pity there, only an understanding forged through years of friendship. “Joong,” he said softly, leaning even closer as if he could bridge the distance that Hongjoong had placed between himself and everyone around him. “So what if some things feel familiar? They’re not the same person, are they? You’re not the same person, either.”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, a flicker of anger sparking in his chest as he searched for a way to deflect, to deny the truth in Wooyoung’s words. “It’s… it’s not like that, Woo. You don’t get it.” His voice grew sharper, frustration edging his tone as he tried to hold onto the walls he’d built.

Wooyoung shook his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Really? Because it doesn’t look that way to me.”

Hongjoong looked away, his gaze hardening as he stared at the floor. “It’s not that simple, okay? You don’t know what it’s like to… to risk everything and then lose it.”

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hongjoong, I may not know exactly what you went through, but I do know one thing: you’re letting something from the past dictate your future. And that’s not fair. Not to you, and definitely not to her.”

Hongjoong’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him as he felt the weight of Wooyoung’s words settle over him. Part of him wanted to argue, to cling to the fears that had kept him guarded for so long, but another part—a part he’d buried deep—knew that Wooyoung was right.

“What if I let myself try?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his words laden with the weight of years of doubt and self-preservation. “What if… what if I take that risk, and she ends up leaving?”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting a reassuring hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Joong, if she’s really the person you believe she is… then maybe it’s a risk worth taking. Because people leave, yeah. They walk away. But the ones who matter, the ones who are meant to stay—they won’t go anywhere.”

“You’re saying I should just… trust that?” His voice wavered, the question more for himself than for Wooyoung, as if he needed to convince himself that he could still believe in something other than his own fears.

Wooyoung’s mouth curved into a gentle, understanding smile. “Yeah. Trust it. Don’t let something that’s already gone keep you from what could be right here, right now.”

“What if I let her in? What if I let her see the real me? What if it’s not enough?”

“Then you fight for her,” Wooyoung replied. “You show her every day that she’s enough. You fight for her instead of running away. You have to be brave enough to take the risk, Joong. And if she does leave, at least you’ll know you tried. You can’t live in the shadow of your past forever.”

“But what if she sees me as weak?” Hongjoong countered, bitterness lacing his tone. “What if she thinks I’m broken?”

“Then you show her that even broken pieces can fit together to make something beautiful,” Wooyoung shot back. “You’ve built this wall around yourself, but you’re just hurting the one person who’s tried to break through. You need to trust her. You need to let her help you. She wants to be there for you, but you have to meet her halfway.”

The truth of those words echoed painfully in Hongjoong’s mind. He had been running, terrified of the vulnerability that came with love, terrified of the chance that he could be left once more. But he could feel the edges of that fear beginning to fray under the weight of his guilt, unraveling with every word Wooyoung spoke.

“You can’t let the past dictate your present, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice softer now, a mixture of empathy and frustration. “You can’t keep running away from what you feel. If you do, you’ll end up losing her, and it’ll be your fault.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced as he thought of you—how you had lit up his life in ways he never thought possible. How your laughter had become a soothing balm to his weary soul. He couldn’t keep ignoring the truth that was staring him in the face. The realization washed over him like a cold wave. “What am I supposed to do?” Hongjoong whispered.

“Fight for her, Joong. Show her that you’re not afraid. Be honest with her, and don’t let fear win this time.” Wooyoung leaned closer. “She deserves that much, at the very least. Fight for her—before it’s too late.”

“But what if it already is?”

🪞 — lividstar.

[cleanfishdish]

DO NOT MIND how stiff this is and how the arms are literally in half my art was notttt arting today but thats besides the point. This is prolly like the first RockMan (temporary name dw LOL) design that i actually think is relatively OK!!!! i think i’ll need to wait a bit to know what i want to change and if i like it cuz i literally just drew this but i think its my best attempt so far??? I do feel his hair side thing is a bitttt to similar to Loveula’s tho??? idk again im gonna wait a bit to look at it with fresh eyes or whatevah. also obvsi still needa work on outfits he is literally shirtless here :P

[unusuallysized-nsfw]

Text Convos From The Technicolour OC Omniverse (Still Aeturnia furries boys) #3

Monday 1:04pm

RyRyRyRy: So you gonna do another?

Mel MyMelf and Mi: Prolly just gotta find a day they're free so i can book off

Ryx4: ooo they a N🐝

JustMel: nah they're a Folf uh a hybrid.

Ryx4: no i meant they're NonBinary... god youre bad at slang

Mel: uhhuh i stopped being terminally online when i turned 19 Aryl.

Ryx4: i just checked the nickname thing cus it kept pinging. you changed your DIsplay like 4 times

Mel: felt weird having it say my name for me, but me feels just as weird as all the others

Ryx4: i mean i can see it so yeah Me would be weird

Mel: PEOPLE CAM SEE THE NAMES I GIVE THEM?

Ryx4: uh..yeah unless you set it as a personal nickname. for example i can see you swapped me to RyRyRyRy and now Ryx4...which is not an improvememt from RyRy😡

Mel:ive called you that since the orphanage girl, if its actually an issue i can stop.

Aryl: nah gorl im jus messin 😝

Mel: oh ok good ^^;

Aryl: ooo...delivery boy is cute ttyl

Mel: dont.

Mel: aryl?

Mel: RYRY!

Tuesday 1 Months Later 4:06pm

Ash: oh you changed my nickname again.

Mel: oh yeah i figured...you'd prefer your unisex one.

Ash: i mean i dont see it most of the time lol. but i appreciate the thought.

Mel: Yeah tbh i didnt originally know you could see it at all!

Ash: i figured as much when i saw "weird ashur guy" XD that first night

Mel: SORRY LOL

Mel: So when are you free? still on sundays?

Ash: Yeye, usually a restock day but im pretty caught up on that front.

Mel: cool cool.

Ash: is...this the part where im supposed to ask you out or are you gonna or?

Mel: haha well youre supposed to be the bottom!

Ash: just cus im smol doesnt make me a subby bish!

Mel: *Photo Attachment of Her Maw*

Ash: 0_0;

Mel: subby bish? more like sub sammich filling.

Ash: 0n0;;;

Mel: told you.

Ash: not faaaaiiir.

Mel: Mine at 6, ill make ya dinner.

Ash: make me Dinner? or make ME dinner?

Mel: Guess youll find out shortstuff.

Ash: its a date haha ^^;