#When you have to face the loneliness of adulthood for the first time

[finnbbl]

Hold onto me

Bang Chan Written

Prompt: With your stressful life, it wasn’t easy to find a healthy way to cope. When Chan finds you at your worst, he makes sure to let you know that you’ve always got him to hold onto.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

- Warnings: Panic attacks, mention caffeine OD implied (if you squint) mentions of self harm, using excessive caffeine to cope, suicidal thoughts, i don’t think there’s any swearing?

- A/N: This was kind of a self comfort thing I wrote, but I know other people struggle with these types of things as well. I hope this can help someone out

- Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

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*click*

The sound of yet another can being opened. Your fourth, fifth, sixth energy drink today. It was easy to lose count when your mind was in a constant haze of self-deprecation, insecurity, and loneliness. Why should you be feeling any of this? You had a loving and amazing boyfriend who would compliment and reassure you daily. There should be no reason or excuse for you to live this way.

However, you let your mind get the best of you.

You continued to down your next energy drink within 5 minutes, rubbing your forehead as you continued typing your essay for college. Life stressed you out. Once you graduated, you moved on. Moving on to adulthood, college, work, you name it. Along with all these struggles, something a little more positive wiggled into your life. Your boyfriend, Chan. He was the sweetest guy you could ask for. Nice, caring, handsome, selfless, you wouldn’t trade him for the world. Your first four years weren’t bad, a little bump here and there but nothing like high school had been. Chan had found out how hard it was for you as a teenager. He’d walked in on a close relapse but was able to stop and comfort you. Help you recover, and you did.

Well, sort of.

That’s what Chan thinks anyway. It wasn’t a total lie, it had been a clean recovery for the most part. But as college got harder, the workload got larger, your social life got worse, and all that work to get better quickly dissipated. Of course, you couldn’t let him know that. Remembering the look on his face when you had explained what you used to deal with, and what it caused you to do to yourself. It was something you couldn’t bear to see again. So, you kept it hidden.

You kept it hidden by coping with it differently. Once you realized your previous method of relapsing wouldn’t work anymore, you turned to caffeine. Your previous method involved physically scarring yourself, and you couldn’t hide it. Any caffeine you could find. Soda, coffee, tea, energy drinks. Anything that could take your mind away from the horrible thoughts that clouded your mind. So there you found yourself, sipping on your seventh one of the day. Then your eighth, your ninth, the numbers continue to increase. Proceeding to drink them like they were water, unaware of the severe health problems it could lead to. Or maybe you were aware, and just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Bang Chan had no idea about it. It was something you could easily keep hidden by destroying the evidence. The empty cans and bottles weren’t hard to get rid of. And with your boyfriend having to stay later than usual to prepare for new comebacks, it was even easier.

You rubbed your eyes with your fingertips and yawned. The clock read 1:30 a.m. It was well after midnight, a time when most would be asleep, resting, and preparing to start their day tomorrow. However, it was a different story for you. Of course for Chan as well, although he had a different situation. Your fingers went away at the keys on your keyboard. You were determined to finish this essay, knowing you’d probably be assigned another one in a few days. Suddenly, your phone dinged. You groaned as annoyance began to flow through you. All you wanted to do was get this stupid schoolwork done and go to bed. As you were about to turn your phone on silent, something caught your eye. A notification from your friend group chat. All you could do was stare at the unopened message, watching as the amount of notifications suddenly began to get larger and larger. Some of your friends were interesting, definitely toxic but there were only a few you had left. In your eyes, it was better to have someone who treats you horribly, rather than having no one. You knew you shouldn’t, but your dying curiosity got the better of you. Next thing you knew, you were reading through several degrading comments.

All about you.

One of your friends had completely snapped at you. Half of your mutual friends had turned against you because of her twisted words. Suddenly, it was like you were frozen. Nothing felt real, and you weren’t a hundred percent sure of what was happening anymore. They were throwing insults at you left and right, and you were too exhausted to defend yourself. It wasn’t long before you zoned out, completely forgetting about the work in front of you. Letting all the negative and self-degrading insults cloud your mind. You began to bathe in self-doubt thanks to the toxicity. It had been like this for years, that one specific friend turning everyone in your life against you. It’d cause you to have an episode, she’d apologize and guilt trip you. And you somehow fell for it. Despite all this, you had a couple of friends who stuck by your side no matter what. Aware of how manipulative she could be, they understood and sympathized with you. This was how it always was. Constantly being drowned in school work and stress, your suffering continues to grow with the emotional abuse. Those thoughts were quickly interrupted as you saw headlights shine through the windows of the living room. Chan had arrived home.

The headlights soon flashed off. Only moments later did Chan slowly and cautiously open the front door. He attempted to keep the noise level down, expecting you to be asleep. Much to his surprise, you were at the dining table in front of your computer. “Baby, what are you still doing up?” He asked sweetly as he shut the front door, locking it back. “Oh, hey Chan. How was your day?” You asked him, completely ignoring his question. Taking another sip of your newly opened energy drink, your eyes didn't leave the screen. You wanted to get this over with and do your best to push out all the self-hatred that your friends dispersed into you.

His eyes briefly darted to the drink that sat on the table next to you, a tinge of worry shooting through him. It wasn’t unusual to find you up late, but it was currently almost 2 am. Doing his best to brush it off, he walked over and sat his things on the kitchen counter. “Not sure how well you’ll sleep with that caffeine in your system.” He said in a joking manner, but also in hopes of bringing you to your senses. Nothing else was said, silence painted the room with only the sound of your typing. He glanced over at the screen, seeing the endless pages of words, that’s when Chris began to wonder…

“How long have you been working on that? Maybe I can help you so you can get to bed soon.” Chan said as he walked over next to you. He put one hand on the back of your chair and his other on the table, leaning down to get a better view of the computer. It was clear he was concerned. “It’s fine, Channie. I’ll get it done within the next uhhh.. couple hours?” He was in disbelief at what he was hearing. Although you stayed up late, you never slept after 12:30. The fact that you said you’d be done when it was nearing sunrise? It shocked him. “Maybe you should just finish this tomorrow, it’s getting late y/n-“

“I know it’s late, but I need this done tonight.” Cutting him off with a sharp tone and briefly looking up at him. He took a small step back at your sudden change. “Just go to bed, i’ll be there soon.” You turned back to your laptop, running your fingers through your hair. Chan could only stand there as he tried to process what had just happened. Sure you weren’t harsh, but you’d never talked to him like that before. After a few minutes, he decided he would clean up around the house a bit. With him being at work all the time, and you busy with college and your job, the house had collected more than dust. Chris already couldn’t sleep well, and knowing you were acting like this would have made resting impossible. He thought that keeping himself occupied until you were done would help. One by one, he went through every dirty dish, every dirty piece of laundry, and every dog toy scattered around from Berry who he now kept with you two. Over an hour had passed, and you still weren’t done. He wasn’t even sure that you realized he was still in the room.

Mutually, he hadn’t even noticed you had opened up two more energy drinks since he’d been here until he saw the cans on the table. He furrowed his eyebrows. One this late was one thing, but the two large-sized energy drinks afterward were another. Something about that irked him, he was big on health. However, he figured you’d had a long day, so he kept his mouth shut as he finished cleaning the house.

Then, his eye caught something.

The trash can. His mouth practically fell open when he saw it, shocked by the amount of empty bottles and cans. Just how much caffeine have you consumed today? Chan had many discussions with you about your health, it was one of the most important factors in life to him. And it was unusual for you not to take care of yourself, he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Y/N..“ he started and caught your attention. You hummed lowly in response, with only silence to follow. He was still in shock, he’d never expect someone like you to care so little about your health. His tongue dragged along the inside of his cheek, doing his best to keep calm. “Just how much caffeine have you had today..?” Chris asked you in a lecturing tone. You rubbed your forehead and sighed before briefly turning your swivel chair around to meet his eyes. “What?” Asking him as if you hadn’t heard. Your words were laced with annoyance, unaware of the events that were about to follow.

He couldn’t bring himself to answer you, only countering with another question of his own. “How many talks have we had about how important your health is?” Your boyfriend crossed his arms as you sighed once again. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.” He figured your head must have been too jumbled to pick up what he was putting down. Chan exhaled deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes. Frustration nipped at him as he bit his tongue so he didn’t say something he’d regret. You were slowly pushing him over the edge.

“You know what, how about we put this away for the night so you can sleep.” The male had realized he was going to have to do more than just talk to get through to you. He thought that resorting to calmer words and taking more action would work. But before he could walk over and shut your laptop, you protested. “What? No, I need to get this done. I’m not finished.”

Chris bit the inside of his cheek and sighed heavily. “Again, go to bed and I’ll be there in a bit.” You continued before muttering something inaudible under your breath. It wasn’t long before your body was facing the computer once again. Anger and frustration began to course through him. What the hell had happened to you? Usually, you were calm and thought carefully about what you put in your body, but now you refused to even acknowledge that your health was declining. Not to mention, you’d gotten snappy with him. “Y/N, it is after 3 in the morning. I’m tired, I know you’re tired. Let’s go to bed and talk about this in the morning-“

“God Chan I do not need you lecturing me right now. I have shit to get done!” Cutting him off and whipping back around in your chair, you left him standing there dumbfounded. “For once, worry about yourself. I don’t need you standing over my shoulder telling me what to do.” The two of you locked eyes briefly. You don’t know what it was and what made you speak to him like that. Was it the stress? The caffeine? The self-hatred? Maybe it was a mix of it all that finally sent you over the edge. Your boyfriend clenched his fist as tears started to gloss over his eyes. A glint of hurt flashed over them before he finally snapped back.

“You know what? I don’t care anymore Y/N. Obviously, you don’t care about your health so don’t expect me to be there when fall to the ground of a heart attack!” His words shot right through your heart. Reality hit you. Immediately, your body shot up out of the chair, “Chan-“ Before you could apologize, you heard the bedroom door slam. You jumped at the loud noise. You could feel yourself start to disassociate, and it wasn’t long before you found your head buried in your hands. Silent sobs escaped through your lips. You weren’t even sure when your body gave out as you collapsed to the ground. The weight of the past month’s struggles all came crashing down on your shoulders at once. How could you be so stupid? The one person you knew you could count on to take care of you and keep you safe, you had pushed away. Realization hit as you glanced over to see the amount of caffeine you’d ingested in only 24 hours. As if on cue, your body finally started to react to it. Your heart felt as if it was beating out of your chest, your body got jittery and you’d only just noticed how much your anxiety had spiked.

A curse seeped through your lips as your cries got unnoticeably louder. At this point, your body and mind refused to forgive you. You started breathing heavier and faster as you found yourself hyperventilating, going back and forth between wanting to get better and wanting it to end. Your mind only brought back horrible memories as intense anxiety ran through your veins. The only sounds that filled the room were your cries, and the refrigerator humming in the background. It added such an eerie and unsettling feeling.

Meanwhile in the bedroom was Chan who had now changed into his sleep clothes. The events of the past few hours raced through his mind on loop. Beginning to replay your actions of the past month in his head, he searched for an answer on why you would be acting like this. You had hurt him, but it wasn’t deniable that you were most likely hurting too.

Hurt people, hurt people. He wasn’t angry, he was just worried sick. It was obvious you had been acting off, but he never knew you turned to caffeine to cope. And as if the male needed any more confirmation, the sound of your suffering slipped right through the walls to his ears. His body moved before he could think, immediately jumping up and making his way to the door.

As he opened it, he realized just how miserable you must’ve been the past month. Usually, he was one to check up on you. Doing small household tasks together and letting you rant about your day, then listen to his. But recently, that had not been the case. Something must’ve been going on that you refused to tell him. You were unaware that you’d caught his attention until you felt two strong arms wrap you in a warm embrace from behind. Your body immediately acted as you threw yourself up and into his arms. “Shh shh, it’s okay sweetheart.” Chan rubbed soothing circles over your back as he noticed how worked up you were. “Baby you’re shaking,” He briefly pulled back to meet your eyes. His fingers found their way under your eyes as he wiped away the tears that poured down your face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

You dug your head into the crook of his neck, continuing to mutter out apologies to him. “Please don’t leave me, please..” You begged him in between sniffles, which caught him a bit off guard. His lips poured into a frown. “I’m not going to leave you, why would I do that?” Chan’s tone was soft and comforting. However, the question flew through one ear and right out the other.

“I don’t want to hurt anymore Chan, please..” Confusion glossed over his eyes, you don’t want to hurt anymore? What were you talking about? His hands lifted your chin as he pulled his body back slightly to face you. “Slow down, what do you mean?” Worry made its way through his body, it was only then that he noticed just how much you were shaking. “I don’t want to do it anymore Chan, I can’t take it..” Unintentionally, pleas slipped right past your teeth. His eyes looked into yours with sympathy. “Oh, honey..” This was always something you did your best to keep hidden from him, your poor mental health. Chan was a very sweet person. Whenever he noticed that someone he loved was hurting, he made them his priority. Oftentimes, letting his health decline in the process. You had refused to let that happen. Not to mention, you weren’t sure how long he’d want to stay after seeing how weak and vulnerable you could be. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe he loved you, but your mind told you otherwise.

“What’s going on, what’s making you think like this hm?” His hand stroked through your hair, doing every single action of reassurance that he could. God how he hoped it was working. “I.. Everyone hates me and.. and I didn’t even do anything!” You suddenly broke. However, he didn’t scream, insult, or push you away. Quietly and patiently, he waited for you to continue. Making sure to keep you in a warm embrace, he did his best to soothe you. “And I’m drowning in school work and I’m just..”

"Is this about…" Chris suddenly asked you. This wasn't the first time you had come to him with a problem like this, but it was the worst by far. Your glossy eyes glanced up at his, your lips quivering as you held back tears. As if on cue, a ding was heard from the table. Followed by a few more and you immediately knew what was happening. More tears spilled down your face as you avoided eye contact. Curious, Chan looked between you and your phone. Hesitantly, he grabbed it. Anger started to run through his veins as he scrolled through all the chats. He only read a few before he decided to put it down. If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t sure that everyone would make it out alive. The male turned back towards you, as he gently motioned for you to sit down on the floor. You began to sway, which worried him. Gently, his hands found yours. “Baby, I love you so much you know that?”

“And I want to respect whatever decisions you make because after all, it’s your life but..” He glanced back and forth between your two eyes as you waited for him to continue. This was something to be gone about carefully, the phrasing couldn’t be too harsh. “You have got to cut them off, they’re not good for your mental health and it’s starting to worry me.” You glanced up at him and then at the floor. He was right, there was no denying that. Healthily dealing with things like this was hard for you. “But.. I’m scared.”

“I know, I understand but… I’m concerned with the amount of caffeine you’re putting in your body.” Chan rubbed his thumb over your knuckle as your hand began to shake. “I thought.. I thought it would help distract me. I just wanted everything to end.” Your bottled-up feeling poured out like an ocean. Although Chan was thankful you were finally talking to him, he didn’t know what to do besides getting you help. That was going to be a challenge. “I just want you to be happy again, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you eat a whole meal. Much less anything other than caffeine.”

He sighed, “Look I know it may not be what you want to hear, but you need help Y/N.” Unexpectedly, you didn’t protest. “You need to go to a professional, can you do that for me? I’ll even go with you.” You inhaled and exhaled deeply. Doctors terrified you, which is probably why you never went willingly before. The last time you needed help, you had to be dragged there by someone. And most of the time it was Chan. Your eyes met his before slowly nodding, causing a smile to tug on your boyfriend’s lips. His hand went up to the side of your head, fixing your hair a bit. “Can you smile for me, please?”

You didn’t budge and he let out a playful sigh. “Come onnnn, pleaseeeee.” He stuck his bottom lip out to form a pout, one glance is all it took for you to fold, your lips curving upwards into a soft smile. A small giggle from him sounded as he continued to stroke your hair. “There you go… come here.” You glanced at his arms which were now open and welcoming you into them as you crawled into his lap. He rocked you back and forth muttering small positive affirmations to you. Chan was someone you would be forever grateful for. He always knew how to help and cheer you up. The mutual love you guys had for each other was unmatched. So there you two were, in each other's arms as a comforting silence began to take over. With all the caffeine in your system, you both knew it was going to be nearly impossible for you to sleep tonight. There was a long road of recovery waiting for you ahead. However, with Chan, you knew everything was going to be okay.

[cheolism]

first

✿ — seungkwan x reader ❀ — summary: you and seungkwan were new to relationships, and netiher of you felt rushed to do anything. six months in, and you both still haven't had sex. but then you start looking at his hands and thighs, and find you just can't help yourself. ✿ — wc is approx 5.8k ❀ — tags: virgin!reader x virgin!seungkwan. first times, established relationship. ✿ — warnings: reader is fem and demisexual coded. love confessions during sex. thigh-riding and humping, cumming in pants.

Seungkwan never made you feel rushed. 

The two of you walked the path of your relationship at your own pace. Mingyu said the two of you were moving slowly, too slowly, but you never felt like you were. Your relationship moved at its own pace, one comfortable to the both of you, and neither of you minded it. 

Your first kiss had been in your front hallway as he dropped you off after your first official date. He had bitten his lip, glancing between your mouth and eyes as you talked about how you had enjoyed the night. 

Then, you let your smile blossom. You stepped to him, the tip of your shoe brushing against his. “You can kiss me if you want to,” you had muttered, looking at his pretty mouth. “But know you’ll be my first, so I won’t know what to do.”

Seungkwan’s answering smile was brilliant, and he slowly reached up to cup your face. His hands were large, encompassing your cheeks. He lowered his face, nose brushing yours. “Is it bad that makes me happy? Knowing I’ll be your first kiss?”

Your hands made their way into his shirt, curling into the fabric and tugging. You pushed up, letting your lips brush against his in answer. 

During a truth and dare session that followed after your first kiss, Mingyu, who made it his business to know your business, asked you when your first kiss was. When you had answered honestly, that it was only a few weeks before and with Seungkwan, Mingyu had gasped, as if it was rare for someone your age to have gone all this time without kissing. 

But, remembering how Seungkwan’s lips gently moved against yours, pressing and giving and guiding, you couldn’t be bothered to be offended. Not when you knew how precious your first kiss had been; not when you had shared it with Boo Seungkwan. 

Despite Seungkwan’s experience in kissing, which he assured you was hardly any, the relationship between the two of you brought a lot of new experiences for the both of you. Neither of you had really dated before one another, finding a different sort of loneliness in your young adulthood that your friends never seemed to share. 

“I’ve never brought someone to meet my grandma,” Seungkwan admitted as you parked outside his grandma’s home. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone in a theater before,” Seungkwan confessed as you pulled away from where you had leaned across the seat.

“No one’s ever called me that before,” Seungkwan admitted as you mouthed against his neck one evening, a breathy darling leaving your lips. 

“I’ve never spent Valentines with a partner,” He had laughed as the two of you were rejected from the restaurant, which was filled to the brim with couples who had the same idea as you for the Valentines evening. 

“I’ve never had sex before,” He had blurted during the evening of your fourth-month anniversary. You blinked from across the kitchen island at him, holding the saucepan in one hand and the wooden spoon in the other as you were preparing his pasta plate. “Just -- just in case you’re wanting . . .”

“Well, I’m not in a rush if you’re not.”

And so it was just another thing the two of you had decided to breach when the moment came. You didn’t want to plan for it; didn’t want to force the moment. It would happen when it did, and the best either of you could do was prepare for when it did happen. 

Not that you didn’t want to. 

Sometimes you looked at Seungkwan and couldn’t help but feel a need, a desperation, that was entirely foreign. One that had you battling the urge to grab him from where he stood talking to Seokmin, laughing and brushing back his stray bangs that had managed to escape his pushed-back hair, pulling him away from his friend and into the car for some privacy. 

One horrifying time it had happened when he was cooing at a baby. He was reaching out, fingers brushing against the infant’s soft cheek, complimenting her on how sweet she was. Seungkwan’s lips were curling, obviously endeared by the baby, eyes soft and gentle and filled with a sort of adoration that reminded you of how he looked at you.

You were absolutely appalled at your urge to whisk him away from the baby and jump him, to press your hands underneath his shirt and feel his stomach flex as you pressed desperate kisses to his neck and collar. 

Seungkwan was turning you into some sort of degenerate. Some wanton, promiscuous, shameless, licentious creature that woke up with soaked underwear and the image of Seungkwan’s bare thighs still at the forefront of your mind.

Even now, sitting next to Seungkwan and watching a movie, those salacious thoughts sent wetness gushing from your pussy and had you shifting in your seat, fighting to keep your cool.

It wasn’t as if the two of you were watching anything pornographic. It was some movie Seungcheol had suggested, one with too many fights and villains and not enough plot or good writing. You had attempted to watch it, of course you had. Date night, whether it was sitting on your couch and watching a movie or walking alongside the river, hand in hand, was something that never failed to brighten your day and put a smile on your face. 

But after another cliche, misogynistic comment by the red-headed love interest who served as nothing more than a plot device, you rolled your eyes and chanced a look at Seungkwan. Seungkwan didn’t like action movies, had gotten bored watching the Dark Night and would much rather see a good romance (your first “argument” had been over whether Love, Actually, was actually any good and how only two aspects of the movie didn’t salvage the entire thing from being bad). 

The romance between the lead and the love interest was enough to keep Seungkwan keyed in on the movie. He watched with wide eyes as the red head pressed a kiss to the lead’s lips before rushing away, ashamed at her bravery. 

Your Boo Seungkwan was so fucking cute, you couldn’t help but think. There was a blush on his cheeks and on his ears as he watched the lead run after the red head and sweep her up into a classic Hollywood-style kiss. He watched eagerly, practically drinking the scene up. 

Then he licked his lips and it was game over for you. 

Seungkwan’s mouth, which you had stared at far too often, was small and pouty and constantly tempting. A day without kissing Seungkwan was a day wasted, in your opinion. 

His hair was slightly wavy from the shower he took before coming over, brown bangs brushing against the edges of his eyes, where his lower and upper lids kissed. It had grown longer in the months the two of you had been dating, and you never ever dared complain. 

From his hair your gaze went to his ears. There was your favorite place to kiss besides his lips (and neck and collar and shoulder and the spot where his neck and collar met, and his --). Three beauty marks, perfectly spaced, practically begging for the brush of your lips. 

Movement brought your eyes from his ears. Seungkwan’s eyes were still trained on the movie, but he had begun pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie. His forearms flexed, veins appearing, and you were transfixed as you watched his hands, his impossibly beautiful and elegant hands, slid up his forearms to push up his sleeves. His fingers were long and smooth, the veins of his hands prominent. 

What did it say about you, you wondered, that you had dreams of those hands. That you had dreamt before about his hands running up your thighs, fingers skimming the hem of your shorts; his fingers pressing against the wet spot in your underwear, the tips of his fingers dipping underneath the waistband of your underwear; the pads of his fingers brushing against your clit. 

Fuck. 

Your heart in your throat, you shifted against the couch. The insides of your thighs brushed against your underwear, the cold wetness that soaked it shocking you. 

“This is a good movie,” Seungkwan said, bringing your attention from where his hands had settled on his thighs. “I really like the romance in it.”

You glanced at the screen. The lead was verbally fighting his mentor in a moment that would, surely, lead to a horrific death scene from the mentor where the lead was choking out apologies. “Yeah. I can see why Seungcheol liked it.”

Seungkwan hummed. Your eyes went back to his thighs. 

His thighs. Seungkwan opted for wearing shorts more often than not, and everytime you were gifted with the sight of his smooth, tanned skin you wanted to fall to your knees. His thighs were meaty from hours filled with cardio, and you constantly wanted to dig your fingers into the flesh and feel. 

You wanted to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his thighs in worship; suck them, nibble at them, listen to Seungkwan’s breathy whines as you teased him. You wanted to feel them squeeze around your shoulders as you took his cock into your mouth, wanted to feel them beneath your own thighs as you bounced on his cock. 

You could feel the wetness that trickled from your pussy, could the slide of it. Your pussy clenched around nothing in desperation. Shame flooded through you, and you took a heavy breath, feeling as though you hadn’t been breathing all this time. 

Thighs clenching, you threw one over the other and squeezed in an attempt to quench your thirst. 

All it did, however, was get Seungkwan’s attention. Your boyfriend glanced at you, head tilted. “You okay?”

You smiled at him, reaching out and setting your hand on his and squeezing. “Yeah. Just getting hungry is all.”

“We can order something now, if you want,” Seungkwan offered. “I can pause the movie.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning against him and burrowing your face into his shoulder. Seungkwan smelled good, as he always did. Like laundry softener and lavender, cotton sheets and freshness. 

“We can order after.” You said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s not so bad.”

Seungkwan angled his head to press an awkward kiss to your hair. Then he went back to watching the movie. 

The hunger in your stomach was nothing compared to the hunger, lust, you felt for him. 

You licked your lips, eyeing the full curve of his cheeks and the hardness of his jaw. Like a parched man offered a cup of water, you desperately drank him in. The stretch of his neck, unmarked; the beauty marks near his ear; the angle of his fingers as he reached up and brushed his bangs away from his eyes, how they softly settled back on his thighs. 

Seungkwan’s navy blue shorts had ridden up, revealing the meatiness of his thighs that had you swallowing nothing, pussy clenching around nothing. 

You wanted your mouth on those thighs, wanting your hands on them. You wanted to be sat on them, pussy grinding down, clit dragging against his bare skin and riding them. 

Slowly, without drawing his attention from the movie, your hand went to his thigh. Seungkwan’s hand went to yours, fingers lacing together instinctively, and you wanted to curse at your boyfriend’s innocence while you were suffering. 

You took your time unwinding your hand from his. First you started with your thumb brushing gently against his warm skin. Then you shifted your hands so only your middle three fingers were tangled with his, your pinky laying against his thigh and thumb constantly kissing his skin. 

Seungkwan huffed when you fully separated your hands, turning to you with a pout. “Why aren’t you holding my hand, Y/n?”

You chuckled at his whine, peering up at him. Your heart was full of adoration for the boy next to you, and you wondered if your eyes were dripping honey from how sweet he made you feel. 

How ironic it was that Seungkwan had your heart feeling as if it would burst out sunshine while also making your pussy constantly gushed wetness. 

“What a baby,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Why don’t you put your arm around me so we can cuddle, baby?”

Seungkwan huffed, still looking offended. But he did as you suggested, his arm going around your shoulders and hugging you to his side. His warmth melted into you, and the position leaning into him, one of your thighs over the other, allowing you to frantically squeeze in a foolish attempt to ease the throbbing of your pussy. 

However, this position allowed you to do something important. 

With his hand brushing against your shoulder, it gave you free reign over his thigh. You settled your hand on his thigh, face towards the television in an attempt to make it seem mindless. His thigh flexed against your hand before relaxing, and you squeezed in response. 

The two of you sat for a handful of moments, Seungkwan content while your fingers brushed against his thighs. He was deeply immersed in the movie still, watching as the mentor was killed by the villian. 

Your hand shifted, sliding up his thigh and stopping where his shorts had ridden up. You tapped your forefinger against his flesh, trying to keep up the relaxed appearance. 

You wanted to suffocate between his thighs. Wanting to take them into your mouth and suck and bite, wanting to pinch and listen to his cries as you swallowed around his cock and knead them. Wanted to hold onto them as you dragged your throat down his cock, his length bringing tears to your eyes as you swallowed his cock back down and took it deep. 

Your pussy gushed again. You couldn’t salvage your underwear, no way. 

Maybe you could take them off and leave them somewhere he could see, you wondered. You imagined him taking notice of your underwear, imagined the red blush that would take over his face. Imagined him bending down, hesitant as he reached to grab them. Imagined him feeling the wet spot left by your pussy; him slowly bringing your underwear up and to his nose, smelling the fragrance of your cunt. 

Fuck, fuck. 

Your hand moved again, sliding underneath his shorts and towards his inner thigh. You still fought to look at the television. 

Seungkwan sucked in a breath from beside you. He snapped his head towards you as you squeezed the fat of his thigh, your name leaving his lips in something crossed between a warning and a sigh. 

You glanced at him, brows furrowed in false confusion. “Something wrong, darling?”

He stared at you for a moment more. You waited for him to admonish you, for him to ask you to remove your hand; for him to draw the line. You’d stop, of course, would retract your hand and press a kiss to his cheek in apology. 

But he did none of those things. Instead Seungkwan pressed his lips together, narrowed his eyes at you, and then went back to watching the movie. 

Grinning and feeling like the cat that got the canary, your hand sunk further into his shorts. Seungkwan took a long, shuddering breath as your fingers brushed against the edge of his underwear. You played with the edge, smoothing your fingers over and under it, nails brushing against his skin. 

“How’s the movie, baby?”

Seungkwan tightened his jaw. “Good.”

“It’s good?” You responded, biting at your lip to suppress your grin and doing a bad job of it. Seungkwan nodded. 

You shifted, turning on your side and rising. His eyes immediately snapped to you. “Keep watching the movie, baby. You said it was good.”

“What are you --”

“Don’t pay me any attention,” you said. When Seungkwan didn’t look away from you, your free hand went to his jaw. You softly nudged his face with your fingers, turning it from you and to the television. “That’s a good boy.”

The answering inhale from Seungkwan had your pussy clenching once more. You hummed, moving to your knees. You pressed your face into his neck, nose pressing against his warm skin, lips ghosting. Your hand pressed up the fabric of his shorts, bearing his thigh, before it settled over the bulge pressing against his underwear. 

Seungkwan let out another shaky breath, his eyebrows furrowing. The arm that was around you moved, clutching at your shirt. 

You kissed his neck, keeping your hand still. “You good?”

He hummed, a slightly shrill noise. 

“Shall I keep going?”

You could feel his answering nod against your head. “I need words, babe.”

“Please,” he begged, voice breathy and the hand in your shirt repositioning to grab more of it and clench. A blush high onto his cheeks. 

You pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his skin. Slowly, gently, you began moving your hand against his clothed dick. Your hand moved in a constant soothing motion, rubbing. “You might have to tell me what to do, baby.”

“Touch --” Seungkwan cleared his throat. You kissed his neck again, though this was unlike any of the innocent kisses you had been laying. You kissed his neck as if you were kissing his mouth, lips rolling against his skin. “Touch me, please.”

“I am,” you reminded him. You pressed your heel down on his bulge in proof. 

Seungkwan moved his face towards you. His face was still flushed, his brows still furrowed and lips still pouting. His dark eyes were wide, pupils large. “Please.”

You pulled away from him in response. He made a protesting noise, moving to reach for you and pull you back. You moved farther away from him, hands meeting his and stopping him. “Take off your hoodie, Seungkwan.”

He compiled, making quick work of his baby blue hoodie and throwing it to the floor. Seungkwan’s shoulders had broadened due to his hard work at the gym, and the muscle on his biceps were impressive. 

You drank him in eagerly. His chest wasn’t as tanned as the rest of him, but it still had you practically drooling. Working out had given definition to his chest, had given weight to his pecs. You wondered what they would feel like in your hands, what they would look like decorated with red and purple bruises left by your mouth.

His breathless whine of your name brought you out of your imagination. You stood from the couch, hands going to the waist of your pants. “This okay, Kwannie?”

At his answering nod, you were shoving your pants down to your ankles. You kicked them off, ignoring Seungkwan’s shocked inhale, and then were climbing on top of him. 

Your hands went to his shoulders, pushing him back and flush against the couch. You straddled one of his thighs, knees on either side with one brushing against his bulge. His hands went to your shirt, yours smoothing down his biceps and squeezing the muscle. “Tell me if you’re nervous. Okay?”

Seungkwan laughed breathlessly. “Of course I’m nervous. I’m about to lose my virginity to the love of my life.”

Your eyes widened, and his immediately followed suit. Both of you froze against one another, hands still, breaths suspended. 

Then your heart swelled, feeling as though someone had filled it with sun. You laughed breathlessly, hands sliding up his biceps and shoulders to cradle his neck. Pressing close, you brought your mouth to his and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

“And the love of my life is a massive dork,” you said, nose pressing against his cheek. 

His mouth sought yours in answer, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers sinking into the strands and tugging. His tongue went to the seam of your lips and you opened them easily, tongue sliding against his. 

Seungkwan’s hands began wandering, moving from your shirt to the hem. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, pressing against the base of your spine. Seungkwan broke away from the kiss, his mouth smeared with spit. “This okay?”

“It’s okay,” you returned, taking his lower lip between your lips and sucking. Seungkwan moaned, a deep sound that seemed so at odds with your lovely boy. 

His hands went up your back, nails scraping against your skin. Your mouth wandered from his, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chin and underneath it. One of your hands moved from his hair, ghosting over his chest. You felt his stomach jump underneath your fingers as you pressed your palm there. “Okay?”

Seungkwan nodded. You took pity on him and didn’t ask again. Your mouth skimmed his neck before attaching to the part where it met his shoulder, taking the skin between your teeth and before sucking. His chest moved against yours as he sucked in a deep breath. 

Then you settled your hand over his bulge, squeezing through his shorts. Seungkwan let out a loud groan in response, his neck straining as he tossed his head back. 

You began marking in earnest in response to his moans and groans, hand smoothing over his dick, rubbing it through the fabric. His nails began to dig into the skin of your back, scraping and pinching.

Soon enough Seungkwan began panting, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. You shifted, sucking another hickey onto his collar, before pulling away. “Hold onto me. Okay, baby?”

Seungkwan’s hands moved from your back to your hips, holding as you asked. You sat back, separating your torso from his and taking a good look at your boyfriend. His blush not only was on his cheeks but spread down his neck, the flush joining the red blossoms left by your mouth in painting a picture of a debauched man. 

His thigh flexed beneath you. Taking the opportunity, you grinded down. Your pussy dragged against his thigh, creating a faint spark of friction that sent another gush of fluid. 

Seungkwan gasped, mouth dropping open and head tipping. “Fuck,” he hissed, brows meeting. “Fuck. You’re so fucking wet.”

You laughed, grinding down again. His hands gripped at your hips, nails digging in. You took care to ensure your clit dragged down, the movement making your mouth go ajar and hips cock forward once more in an attempt to feel the relief once more.

“Can you,” Seungkwan began, his voice deep and dark and sending another gush of wetness out of your pussy and further soaking your underwear. Seungkwan let out a little moan at feeling the wetness taint your underwear, soaking his bare thighs. “Can you cum? Just from that?”

“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I feel like I could.”

Then your hands were back on him, going to his waistband. You used one hand to pry open his shorts and underwear, holding it open for your other hand to slide down his pelvis, feeling the little curls of the hair there brush against your palm. 

When your fingers brushed against the base of his dick, you couldn’t help but pause. Your eyes went up to his, unsure. Seungkwan’s hands squeezed your hips. “You don’t have to. We can -- we can stop.”

You shook your head. You moved your hand, skin gliding against his dick. It felt impossibly big and heavy in your hand. Seungkwan shivered, eyes fluttering shut and head going back to rest against the couch. 

More curious than anything, you moved your hand over his dick, exploring. You mapped the veins of it, following them down to the head. You pushed your thumb against the head, wetness from it spurting out onto your hand. 

Seungkwan let out a weak exhale. “We -- usually I use lube or something. It. It makes it easier.”

You retracted your hand from his pants. You offered it to him, palm out. Seungkwan closed his eyes, inhaling. Then he leaned forward, tongue poking out from his mouth. He began running his tongue over your hand, spreading his spit. 

Absent-mindedly you began rocking your hips, grinding your pussy against his thigh once more. His tongue ran over your palm and fingers, coating it in his spit. You thought about his tongue on your wrist, your shoulder; then your breast, dragging down your stomach and to your pussy. 

You leaned forward against his thigh, bearing down on him and grinding down aggressively. You lowered your head, hair falling and framing your face. One of Seungkwan’s hands left your hips, moving to grab the wrist of the hand he had been licking -- licking!!!! 

Seungkwan tugged. You looked up. “Here. Get off for a moment.”

You did as he asked, stumbling. Seungkwan raised his hips off the couch, pulling down his shorts and letting them drop beside the couch. Then he shimmied away, moving so he was laying down the length of the couch. He looked embarrassed, laying there, nearly entirely bare for your eyes. 

“Get on me,” Seungkwan said, though it sounded more like a question than anything. “Straddle my -- my --” 

His face was a brilliant shade of red, and he turned away from you to look at the ceiling. Once Seungkwan wasn’t looking at you he was able to speak. “Straddle my dick and grind down on it.”

Never one to object from a good idea, you slowly made your way on top of Seungkwan. Your knees dug into the couch on either side of his hips, and when you positioned yourself so your pussy was directly over his clothed dick, the both of you let out matching moans. 

His hands went to your hips again. Seungkwan slowly began guiding you into a gentle rocking motion, letting your pussy guide up and down his bulge, letting you grind down on him and use his length. 

You leaned forward, hands bracing on his chest. His loud pants and broken moans filled your ears, clouding your brain. You dragged your pussy down his length and back up it, using it like you would your own hand. Each drag was delicious, had you shoving yourself back down and searching for more friction, for more press. 

“Wait,” Seungkwan panted. You looked up at him. He was breathing heavily, bangs beginning to stick to his forehead from his sweat. “I’ll -- I think I’ll come from this.”

“Just from this?” You asked, brow furrowed. You grinded down on him and Seungkwan let out a loud groan in response, eyes fluttering and tipping his head back. 

Delighted, you kept on moving on top of Seungkwan, watching him. Your boyfriend was always so expressive. You knew when he was mad, irritated, when he was happy or amused. Watching him now, brows furrowed, face red and mouth parted with sweet moans escaping his lips, you had another face to add to your mental catalogue.

Then his jaw dropped; his grip on your hips tightened and his hips were bucking up, a loud, low moan ripping from his mouth. You watched, amazed, as Seungkwan thrusted up into you twice more before his voice broke off. 

He stilled beneath you, going lax. Seungkwan’s chest heaved, and his hands left your hips to hide his face. He let out a high little whine. “I can’t believe I did that.”

You shifted up his body, reaching for his hands and prying them away from his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Seungkwan pouted, sticking out his lower lip. “I’m fine. Just have to live with the knowledge that I came in my pants the first time I ever had sex for the rest of my life.”

You laughed, leaning down and kissing his pout. “It’s okay,” you giggled, kissing his mouth twice more before moving to kiss his cheeks. “It’s cute.”

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes at you. His hands returned to your body, and then he was moving you off of him. You went easily, letting Seungkwan guide you to lay against the other end of the couch. “What’s up, babe?”

“Your turn,” Seungkwan announced, determination heavy on his tongue. He grabbed two pillows that had fallen off the couch. Seungkwan settled one beneath your head; his fingers ran down over your shirt before he found your hips, lifting them up to settle the other pillow. “This good?”

You hummed, shaking your hips. “Comfy as can be!”

Seungkwan huffed. Then his fingers -- his long, beautiful fingers that you dreamt of -- were pulling down at your underwear. You lifted your hips off the pillow so he could guide them down your legs. Seungkwan dropped them beside the couch, and you watched, tongue flicking out to run over your lips in anticipation, as his hands went to your ankles. 

For a moment he just stared at you. Like you were a piece of art, a Mona Lisa amongst masterpieces, an angel amongst humans. His dark eyes took in your wild hair, the heaving of your chest; where your shirt had ridden up, revealing the soft curve of your stomach, the hair surrounding your pussy. 

“Tell me when to stop.” Seungkwan said. His hands ran along your legs as he spread them out, making room to be between them. Goosebumps raised along the trail his fingers left behind. 

Your pussy gushed in anticipation. Your heart seemed to stop, and you know for a fact your brain did. His fingers hovered over your thighs, ghosting your skin. 

Then his hands were on your pussy. One of his hands held it open, fingers splayed around your lips. His other hand went to your clit, thumb attaching itself to it. Immediately you gasped, hips bearing down in an attempt to seek more.

Seungkwan laughed breathlessly, watching. His thumb pressed down on your clit, offering itself. “God. You really are soaked. I didn’t realize you could get so wet.”

You furrowed your brow. One of your hands gripped at the cushion beneath you, the other moving to grip at the cushion pressed against your side. You continued grinding down on his thumb, feeling the friction mount within your gut. 

Seungkwan continued talking all the while, eyes still watching your pussy. As he talked he maneuvered his hand, fingers brushing against your entrance. “I knew pussies --” Another wave of wetness escaped from your pussy after that word, that crude, horrid, delightful word, left his lips. “-- got wet. But fuck. Your underwear was drenched, baby. And your pussy? It’s soaking. If I put my mouth down there I’d fucking drown, I think.”

The image of Seungkwan’s head between your thighs, mouth attaching itself to your pussy and clit, sent a moan from your lips. His fingers continued moving, one of them dipping into your entrance. “It’s like. It’s like your pussy is begging me to put something in.”

“Please,” You whispered, hips bucking into his hold. “Please, Kwannie.”

Then two of his fingers were dipping inside you. If he tried to move slowly, it was to no avail; your pussy greedily sucked him in, squeezing around his digits as if they were his dick instead. 

You gasped, feeling as his fingers, which had a better angle than yours ever did, stretched your walls. He didn’t move them much, shifting every few seconds. His thumb continued to work against your clit, however, and you felt something tightening in your gut, as if someone was pulling a string taut. 

“Fuck,” Seungkwan breathed, “fuck you’re beautiful.”

And then the string was cut, and your orgasm washed over you in wave after wave. Seungkwan kept pressing his thumb against your clit, his fingers inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as your body tightened and released, and as it released you felt as if every single worry you ever had about anything left with the tension. 

Slowly, as to not harm you, Seungkwan removed his fingers. You let out a soft little whine as he did, eyes opening just enough to watch him. He held his hand up, splaying out his fingers. Your fluids glistened in the light, strings of it connecting his fingers. 

You forced your eyes shut. Seungkwan shifted off the couch. For a moment there was quiet. 

“Uh. I didn’t bring another pair of underwear.”

You looked at him. He had your discarded pants in one hand, the other hand burrowed into the fabric -- no doubt getting your fluids off of his hand. You looked over his body, taking in the muscles of his thighs and calves and arms. The golden skin, the beauty marks and moles that decorated him. 

You wanted to press him to the bed and kiss each and every single mark.

For another time, you decided. Instead you slowly moved into a sitting position, kicking out the pillow from beneath your hips. “I’ll have to throw them into the wash. I think I have something that’ll fit you.”

“It’ll take all night to get clean,” Seungkwan mumbled, pouting. 

You grinned, opening your arms. Seungkwan dropped your pants and went to you, sliding his arms around your shoulders and yours going around his middle. You pressed a kiss to his stomach, enjoying the feel of it against your cheek. 

“Then you’ll just have to stay the night.”

Seungkwan sighed. “I guess.”

You mocked him, screwing up your face and peering at him. “How horrible of me to offer for my boyfriend, who took my first kiss and my virginity, to spend the night. Should’ve kicked you out as soon as I finished.”

“Please,” Seungkwan said, rolling his eyes. “You were so wowed by my performance you couldn’t even move.”

You burrowed your face back into his stomach. “Whatever you say, princess. I’ll throw the clothes into the wash, you order our food? And we can just eat in bed and cuddle?”

Seungkwan hummed, fingers running along your shoulders. His hands settled on either side of your head, moving your face from his stomach. You pouted up at him. “I mean, I guess that’ll be all right. I suppose you want Mexican.”

You nodded, lips parting in a wide smile. Seungkwan laughed, and then he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll have to start the movie over again.”

“What movie?”

Seungkwan paused, pulling away to look down at you. “Uh. The movie Seungcheol recommended?”

“Oh,” you said. “Okay. So. Here’s the thing. That movie fucking sucks.”

Seungkwan’s eyes widened. “But -- the romance! The chemistry between the mains! You can’t tell me that you don’t see it!”

You stood. The wetness between your thighs had begun to stick, and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, no. We’re not watching it.”

“But --” Seungkwan pouted, sticking out his lips and widening his eyes. It was his classic puppy-eyed look, the one that had you handing everything to him on a silver platter. “But baby! If you love me like you said you do, you’ll replay the movie and watch it with me!”

Sighing, you went to him. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, rising to your heels and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I do love you, Boo Seungkwan. So much.

“But I don’t love you that much.”

[luxetobscuritas-blog]

books that magically found their way into my home this month.

The Latern of Lost Memories by Sanaka Hiragi

Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

Medusa by Jessie Burton, wonderfully illustrated by Olivia Lomenech Gill

The Full Moon Coffee Shop by Mai Mochizuki

Sämtliche Erzählungen / The complete stories by Adalbert Stifter

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

What you are looking for is in the library by Michiko Aoyama

Selected Works of the Brontë Sisters

Sorcery and Small Magics by Maiga Doocy

Back in summer, I stumbled upon Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa and I fell in love with its atmospheric simplicity while simultaneously addressing important issues like loneliness, illness and the societal discrimination that comes with it. I was intrigued to read more Japanese fiction, and it seemed like I wasn't the only one. Bookstores in my town jumped on this interest as well and in a section specifically decorated for Japanese fiction, I found The Latern of Lost Memories and What you are looking for is in the library.

Carmilla is a book that I absolutely adore and I've been eager to replace my worn-out edition, filled with post-its and notes, with a beautiful hardback version, and I've stumbled across this gem last week. I am just waiting for a rainy evening to cuddle myself into a warm blanket with some freshly brewed tea before I let myself get lost in this wonderfully haunting gothic classic.

Medusa has a special place in my heart as it quite beautifully rewrites the myth of the Gorgon monstrosity, highlighting the vulnerability of being human amidst unjust power dynamics. Medusa explores the difficulties and challenges of being a woman in a world made by men and also the struggles men eventually face in the world they've created against men and women. The narrative is both heart-breaking and heart-warming, capturing the complexities of gender in a profound way.

I couldn't resist taking The Full Moon Coffee Shop with me. There are cats on the cover, and the story revolves around a magically appearing café entirely run by cats. :3 I've got pretty high expectations of this little tale.

I also recently purchased Adalbert Stifter's "Sämtliche Erzählungen" to delve a bit deeper into the nuanced craftsmanship of this often-overlooked literary figure. Amongst lovers of his stories, he is celebrated for his profound exploration of nature, human emotion, and moral philosophy.

Howl's Moving Castle was a pre-order from Fairyloot, but I received it this month. Ugh, this book and the movie just feels like home to me, and I know that I am not the only one. I got a little teary-eyed because whenever I revisit stories, movies, or games from my childhood that have carved themselves into my heart, I realize how much time has passed and how fleeting life is, but it's a great reminder to appreciate the magic that not only surrounded us as children, but that is still there in adulthood. We just have to be willing to see it.

The Selected Works of the Brontë sisters consists of classics that are an absolute necessity to my little library. I've always loved classics where female characters and the portrayal of femininity challenge societal norms, a passion that began during my university days when I wrote term papers on gender and femininity in Victorian literature. The Brontës’ powerful narratives continue to inspire with their bold depictions of women navigating a heteronormative, restrictive society.

Sorcery and Small Magics was part of Fairyloot's October adult-subscription box that I receive monthly. It's the first book of "The Wildersongs Trilogy" and the story revolves around Leovander Loveage who specializes in small magics, like summoning butterflies or turning hair into different colours. Powerful spells always backfire on him, so he swears not cast them ever again. But after a forbidden spell binds him to his nemesis, Sebastian Grimm, they must find a counterspell, and their search leads them on a journey filled with monsters and outlaws, and Leovander needs to confront his true magical potential. Of course this wouldn't be a typical contemporary fantasy tale without some romance, so I expect a typical enemies-to-lovers story with this one.

[koiir]

IF THE SUN REFUSED TO SHINE, BABY WOULD I STILL BE YOUR LOVER? — Satoru gojo x gn!reader

In which he reflects the truth of what his heart holds for you, numbing the pain he’s about to undergo.

Notes: spoilers to chp 236 . Angst with no comfort . Gojos my fav character but all I want to do is write angst for him so !! not proofread

Gojo satoru is a weapon, that’s the life he has endured throughout birth till the end and after.

The feeling of dehumanizing yourself is one he mastered quick, altering his own being and soul to make a facade where others don’t see the utter despair of his existence.

Even now, his body nearing its end as he has been sliced off, not putting an end to being the strongest.

They say in the last moments one remembers the best moments of their lives, although satoru wonders why you are the first to light his brain in past remembrance for the last time.

His heart cannot be one to give out, the man has long known this since it would only ignite a light to despair. But people have desires, even if they are not meant for such ideals he stills dreams of a life where he can experience love without fear and a clear understanding of what it means be to be free of fear.

The most common curse is that of love, something he’s known his whole life. And also the solitary love of longing for another. One he wishes he could erase from his existence.

But he also views it as a beautiful thing that he has been given to experience.

Admiration is a feeling indescribable to gojo, it creeps up to him enveloping him in a warmth that vanishes the minute you are out of sight. He first experiences this when you two are 18, almost ten years ago he thinks.

“Do you ever wonder what a life without curses would be like?”

“Of course I do! Just means i wouldn’t be the strongest.”

He can tell your eyes are rolling due to his teasing, but he can’t ignore the stare you hold onto him as he keeps his eyes closed. You know he’s thinking about it, thinking about a world where he isn’t truly alone. Alone in the way that Satoru Gojo can feel like he isn’t object that acts as a pillar to all.

“What makes you so extroverted satoru?”

“Well… it makes me feel normal for once.”

The first time he opens up to you is when you two are 19, he wishes he could be stronger and dispute his devoid of emotion. Though he knows this might help, just a bit on his end.

What breaks him is the face you hold of melancholy, eyes dusted over with a hint of despair as you had watched him endure a rather harsh mission. He doesn’t tease you for it, but rather apologizes for making you worry so much. It’s brushed off but the time spent between you two is one of ease.

It fills his soul with a warmth he long has longed for, the light igniting in him as he gazes over to your figure that keeps its stance on the sea ahead.

The waves seem to replicate his overall form, the fact in which he wants to wash away his life to one of normality. Water is that of depth and darkness, he finds himself almost connecting to water itself as it’s a need for many, but never cared for with tenderness.

Throughout the course of your time as classmates, up till adulthood, the everlasting emotion of longing seems to be his strong suit. It’s as though his soul burns with a fire you give him, unknown of the bittersweet feeling his heart is enduring endlessly.

He doesn’t mind, he doesn’t push anything. He knows that his longing will only worsen if ever dares to try and push you away. Though you’ve already placed a home of thorns in his heart, growing as time progresses with no means of stopping. But never does he dare push to pursue, it’s as if a broken curse of fortune placed upon him.

You two seem to understand this prophecy, because you also know that satoru can’t live a life wear he acts upon his emotions. It’s the worse cure you think, that a boy birthed into a weapon is chained down to a scarcity of loneliness.

He knows others have cared for him, he has his students and others who though he does annoy ever now and then, gojo knows they deeply care for him through the years of shared experiences with the harsh world of curses.But he’s never felt deserving of that honor, feeling like one day he will be a failure to them and be the cause of their lives.

All he wants is to protect them and never let them experience what he and others had to endure. His students are those he loves, so the fact that they will see his body defeated and blood casting over him, his heart burns with pain at the thought that he has failed them and everyone.

“See you.”

Your words are mellow, face firm with eyes swarmed in fear. He stares at you, its only you two gojo feels his heart beat fast at the mixture of emotions he is holding in his soul right now. It’s fast due to seeing you for possibly the last time. You being the last person to say goodbye to him.

You holding back your pain and uttering words that don’t translate to this weapon of him. Himself.

You overthink a lot. Satoru has always known this since you two were teenagers, even know, you don’t want to say “do your best,�� or “give it your all,” because he knows you don’t wish to envision him dying due to this. But you both know better.

He wants to break free from this curse, it’s the last time he sees you. Though the pain this will cause you, he doesn’t want to imagine how much his final words to you will impact you. But he knows closure is a gift, because at least you know the truth and can close the wound of uncertainty.

“Thank you, for everything.”

The embrace is one of passion, his thoughts run as he can finally hold onto you just this once. He wishes maybe someday, he can feel this again. From you. Your body shakes and you can’t hug him back, you don’t meet his stare as you finally let go.

The pain is overwhelming, because you know for a fact you won’t ever get to experience this from satoru. The boy who has long held a special place in your heart and through a bond that cannot be broken.

Gojo feels the pain they call “despair” he’s never dared to admit it, but now he has nothing to lose. This feeling is all that of a weapon, that has succumbed to the feeling of love.

“I love you.”

His eyes flutter open as he now understands the feelings he has held for you, the light from the sun above is truly the last thing he sees. His eyes shut, for the final time being. Gojo Satoru lays onto the blood of his own, death taking his life away as he no longer will be the strongest.

Maybe in another life he could be strong, not physically, but in being able to fight for you and love you without any curse holding him back. In another life, he would be free of any pain.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Beautiful and powerful but lonely darling

[ YANDERE HEADCANONS ] [ Jack, Korekiyo ]

[ Shuumatsu no Valkyrie ] [ Danganronpa V3 Killing Harmony ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just for entretaiment

× Inspired on Cleopatra (from Majo Taisen)

Ah, yes, two of the crazy men im in love with❤️ I loved doing this!! Also, my first time writing for Kiyo!! Im so nervous but excited!! Aaahhh!! Hope you love it as much as I did!! ❤️❤️

Also, read Majo Taisen!! Is an amazing manga with amazing characters, and amazing art, amazing motivations for the tournament ~ just read it, you won't regret it 🖤

Jack the Ripper

It doesn't matter if you are new on the town or have lived your entirely life in there, it doesn't take much time for him to notice your presence (but is more likely that it happens until adulthood since during childhood he was in the slums), but I mean, how he couldn't noticed you, wherever you go you catch everyone's gaze with your beauty and elegancy

With your only presence and bearing Jack was already interested on you, but the fact that everyone is looking at you with admiration and desire with every step you take, ready to fullfil your wish only with your only presence, despertly wanting to be by your side and have the bless to bask into your presence make him more and more intriged by you

Jack isn't like everyone else, he doesn't want to kneel before you or do everything for you just thanks to the influece of your overwhelming beauty, he admit that you are truly beautiful and amusing but that isn't enough for him, he is interested in you, he wants to know more about you, he wonder how you would look when you're flooded by the beautiful colors of despair and fear, would you look even more beautiful than you already are? Maybe you pretty face will turn into something completely diferent

Speaking of colors, since the first moment Jack had noticed the deep color of loneliness around you and he finds it pretty interesting, he doesn't pity you nor get sad for you, it actually only increase his interest on you, a person who is always surrounded by a lot of people that are ready to please you and fullfil your wishes and still you can't have the only thing that you really want

Jack is completely amused and intriged by you since the moment he lays his eyes on you, however he won't approach to you right away, he prefers to stay in the shadows for a while, follow you close and watch you, he wants to know more about you and what better than watching you close! He wants to know every litte detail of you, he want to be there anytime your colors change into colors of happines or saddness, he want to know what make your colors change, but above all Jack wants to be able to be the one making your colors change, he want to make you experiment the true fear for the first and last time

As the time pass by Jack start to want more and more of you, with the more he watch you from afar and the more he knows you the more he is amased by you, he is more conviced that you are perfect inside and out, the more he wants you

Jack finds pretty disgusting and even pathetic how so much people want to serve you or want everything about you just by your looks, they doesn't know how to appreciate your true beauty, he does, he doesn't just appreciate your looks Jack appreciate the beauty that is hidden in your lonely heart, the one that is craving for love but knows that not anyone is worthy of, the beauty that is hidden in your strength, that strength with which you can easily get rid of anyone who dares to annoy you or try to go too far with you and overcome your limits

Jack doesn't approach to you until he feels like he knows enough about you, or well until he knows all he can know by being afar from you, when he feels that he already has enough and needs to step in, needs to be around you, NEEDS you. The moment Jack approach to you he do it so casually, so naturaly, introducing himself with elegancy like the gentelman he is, it doesn't matter if you try to ignore him or don't really pay him attention he will just laugh softly at your reaction, he knew this could happen, he knows you really well and he understand, he may seem like all the rest that tried to court you into he past but he is different and he will show it to you, it doesn't matter if he has to force you to accept him in your life he is totally willing to do it

Jack slowly get more and more into your life, make it seem like coincidences, just like an inocent friendship that slowly blooms when in reallity he has calculated every step he takes, Jack has a complete plan to make you fall in his trap where he will become the only one who matters to you, the only one who can change your colors

Jack thinks that he only wants to be able to overpowered you, to make you feel the biggest fear to see that beautiful color on you, but deep down in his heart he want to be with you, to be one with you and to be able to do this Jack start to gently push you into his arms where you will never escape, he start monopolizing you with delicate and sweet actions of love that not even he fully noticed

Jack already know a lot about you but now that he is closer to you he makes efforts to win your trust so he can delve into the deepest parts of your being and heart, finally knowing everything he can about you to feed his lovely and obsessive heart

Even when all the world want to reach you Jack doesn't think on kidnapping you, is irritating to see all the people despertly trying to get something from you, even if is just your gaze, but he is completely sure that he can completely protect you from any danger, he can easily get rid of anyone, and, most important, he can know when you start trusting in him more, or even if you ever think that he is worthy of your love he will know before you do, so he doesn't have to fear much because, one way or another, at the end you will be completely his

Korekiyo Shinguji

Korekiyo has noticed you since the start, I even dare to say that since the moment you got in the school he noticed you, and for him it was like love at first sight, but how it couldn't be? You are just the more beautiful human being he ever had the bless to lay his eyes on

Since the start your beauty had captivate him (just like for everyone else) he wants to know more about you so he tries to approach to you and properly introduce himself, it doesn't matter if you are interested on him or not, even if you just ignore him and pass by him he will only take it as an interesting response

Korekiyo is determinate to know everything there is to know about you, how he could call himself the ultimate anthropologist if he doesn't do everything in his power to investigate you, the most beautiful person alive, the pinnacle of human beauty, for a long time he will be stalking you, following you everywhere and watching you from afar, amazed by everything you do, slowly getting into your life, little by little he gets more and more close to you until he finally can talk to you directly

When Korekyo finally has the opportunity to talk to you directly (either since the start or after watching you from afar for a while) at first he gives you a lot of compliments, he can't stop himself from expressing how beautiful you are, how grateful he is for having the opportunity to meet someone so beautiful! so perfect! something that isn't new for you at all, everyone who meet you finds you beautiful, although his compliments where a little different, like more poetic and intense, kinda refreshing to say at least. However he did something that no one had never done before, he asks you about you, what you like, what you dislike, what you are into, which is your ultimate talent, how is your personality, what do you wish in life, whatever you are willing to share with him he is more than happy to hear you with devotion (even so, whatever you won't share he will find out soon or later), this was something truly unexpected but certainly not unpleasent, maybe he will be worthy of your love

Korekiyo's loves and obsession for you just grows more and more as the time pass by, getting more and more amazed by every little detail of you, with every day he just gets more convinced that you truly are the pinnacle of beauty, however it seems like everyone thinks the same because everywhere you go there is always people who can't help but look at you, some of them even directly gives you compliments and try to be physicaly close to you, and as much as he loves that people actually admire your beauty just the way you deserve it drives him crazy everytime someone desperately tries to catch your attention, calling your name like if it wasn't nothing and even daring to try to touch you, he can't help but frown and stare furiously while cursing under his breath, trying to control himself and don't go against they here and now, more than once he had scare whoever tried to talk to you and making them to run away (sometimes intentionally other times unintentionally)

Korekiyo hates seeing others trying to approach to you, the more disrespectful they are with you the more angry he is (specially with the ones who approach to you with vulgar intentions, the ones who think that they have the right to touch you in a no so friendly way, or just to touch you at all, left alone without your fully consent, it take all the self control he has on him to not go and just let out all his anger against them) sometimes he can't control himself and goes violent against them but always apologize to you for making such scene in front of you. However he knows that you aren't lady in distress, he had saw you defend yourself against whoever dares to disrespect you in any way before, even if that means to get in a fight (still you are really stronge and the fight doesn't last long), he hates that you had to resorting to having to fight and still he is just more fascinated with you by seeing you fight (still that doesn't stop him from growing clingy to you and being protective over you, even if you don't alow him he will do it without you knowledge)

Korekiyo finds amazing that you will always find someone ready to fullfil your wishes, you have a lot of people behind that are ready to follow your orders you just have to ask, even if you ask them to get into their knees to use them to sit on someone will happy to do so, he likes to watch people following your orders even if you don't thank them or even glance at them, he thinks that is just how a beauty such as yourself deserve to be treaten, and he is willing to follow your orders at some extent too but he isn't doing it for free, he isn't like everyone else, what he wants in return is you, being able to bask in your warm and beauty, being able to be with you, love you and be loved is what he wants

Korekiyo has consider kidnapting you, a beauty such as yourself should be admire for eternity but also protected for all of those who thinks they have the right to even talk to you without all the respect of the world, and every time someone tries to cross the limit just trigger him more and more, is in those moments when he thinks on kidnapting you because he is the only one who will know how treat you with the love and respect you deserve, however is obvious that you have a preference for him, but I mean how you wouldn't? he is the only one who is truly interested in you, the only one who had seen beyond your physical beauty and is truly interested in you, even better that he has never been scare to express how beautiful you are, inside and out

He is truly worthy of your love, he is the only one you had never throwed away, and that doesn't went unoticed from him and that fact is what keeps him calm, what calm his insecurities and worries and what prevent him to take you away from the world because he knows that even when everyone is willing to kneel before you you know he is the only one who truly appreciate all your beauty, the only one who had truly loved you

[madinscurianmermaid]

(WARNING: spoilers!)

(trigger warning: discussions of gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, medical abuse towards intersex folks and eating disorders)

I Saw The TV Glow is a very very interesting movie. Very dreamy and atmospheric. There are a lot of symbolic parallel themes I can point out--the pains and awkwardness of growing up, the melancholia of a lost friendship, turning to TV as escapism from loneliness and isolation or bullying and abuse, the loss of innocence and wonder upon growing up, nostalgia, etc.--but I really thought that the twist of Owen and Maddy actually being Isabel and Tara, the main characters of The Pink Opaque TV show having been forcibly transported by the main villain Mr. Melancholy from their world to the Midnight Realm that looks like our real world and thrown out of their element, was really cool. And I thought it was smart that the marketing and promotion for the film was cryptic enough to not give it away. Also, I can genuinely see The Pink Opaque being an actual hit family friendly sci-fi/mystery/horror TV show, either as a spin off show in companionship to the movie today or back in the 90s, and being a TV show that's an amalgamation of The Twilight Zone, Stranger Things, Goosebumps, Are You Afraid of the Dark and So Weird. In fact, I think that the director Jane Schoenbrun should go out on a limb and actually make The Pink Opaque an actual spin off show, while fleshing out the story and mythos with actual surreal and paranormal adventures. But that's just me!

Now, onto the main part of the movie that's actually been standing out to me the most: Owen. In watching the film a second time and reflecting on everything about Owen, his personality, his mannerisms, his relatable quiet awkwardness, shyness, his emotional vulnerability, etc., and his overall story, is really getting under my skin. But not in the "ew, this is gross and this is cringe, I feel like bugs are crawling all over me" type of way, but rather in the "oh my goodness, I see myself in this character and I empathize with them to where I feel like I know them personally and this resonates with and speaks to me emotionally in ways that I can't describe or put into words and it nearly brings tears to my eyes" type of way. I've reviewed movies and expressed resonating with characters before, but rarely has any character ever truly make me feel like I genuinely see myself in them and see myself on screen other than Owen. Owen is the type of character that you watch at first and then after it's been a while since watching this movie, he sneaks up on you and haunts you emotionally in your soul. That's what Owen's character has done--he's snuck up on me emotionally and mentally and now he sits like an aching teardrop inside my soul, and that's because I literally see myself on screen when I see Owen and watch his arc. Then the twist of Owen being Isabel, how this realization affects him and that playing into the allegories of gender identity and expression gives Owen and his arc more depth, and then the movie showing Owen's life in the aftermath as he grows up, turns 21 and reaches adulthood and grows older makes it more emotionally impactful.

Some background about me to put everything into context: for as long as I could remember, I've always felt different and I've always had an androgynous and genderfluid way of expressing myself and looking at the world around me, and in many ways I'd feel like an androgynous feminine pretty guy.

But I've also initially had a difficult time verbally expressing this or putting it into words without fear of people looking at me as though I'd smoked a crackpipe or grown a bunch of eyeballs on my face lol, especially considering that I grew up in a conservative evangelical setting. Sure I'd wear dresses, sure I'd wear girly shoes, sure I'd wear casual feminine preppy clothes and dark alternative goth or emo clothing, sure I'd paint my nails and wear jewelry, sure I'd have all these hobbies to pass the time and present myself femininely, and yet even then during that entire time, inwardly I'd be thinking:

"Why do I feel like a guy on the inside?"

Granted, my dilemma wasn't ever about discomfort about my body (aside from body dysmorphia and eating disorders) or any of my body parts or wanting top or bottom surgery--it was more so about whether I can verbally express into words how I'd feel like a guy with a feminine face and body and a guy in a dress some days and then how I'd feel like a guy wearing girlskin waiting to crack and shed itself off of me like a caterpillar when it exits out of its coccoon and becomes a butterfly, and ultimately it's been moreso about how whether I could express myself with my gender in an environment that expects me to conform to rigid cisnormative standards of beauty and expression. Cause I would wear casual feminine preppy or emo clothes on some days then wear baggy guy clothes on others. But again, I'd still struggle to find the words to describe what I was thinking and feeling. All of this among other things would slowly build up into stress induced gender dysphoria, and much of my gender dysphoria compounded with my autistic sensory overload, C-PTSD, dyslexia and trauma fueled distress from growing up in and being surrounded by oppressive conservative cult propaganda that made me feel drained and anxious and just overall struggling to fully pinpoint why I always felt different in regards to my gender nearly drove me crazy.

Then when I discovered that Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), which I have, is an intersex variant which by proxy made me discover and realize that I was born intersex, all my questions that I had for decades were answered.

And oddly enough, my gender dysphoria stopped soon afterwards and it hasn't happened again since.

Which circles me back to Owen and his story. Since the movie is an allegory, Owen's arc can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. Many see Owen's story and how the twist in the story plays into it as an allegory for trans identity, which is valid.

But for the sake of keeping everything in personal context of my story and why Owen resonates with me, I'll just examine it from a objectively unrelated and different context and standpoint, specifically and namely an intersex (and especially both an interfeminine and intermasculine) context and standpoint:

Isabel is Owen's real self and not just in context of the twist of what the villainous Mr. Melancholy did, but also a symbolic representation of Owen's femininity and feminine side that he keeps tightly tucked away within himself and in this vein, scenes of Mr. Melancholy and his wicked goons, Marco and Polo, torturing and drugging Isabel/Owen become even more unsettling as this can parallel the trauma of what intersex folks have to deal with in society, from everyday bullying and discrimination to medical abuse via unwanted surgeries forced on us by corrupt doctors who view us as sickly deformities in need of "fixing" (then also the very real issues of gender based violence and hate crimes towards intersex women/femmes that rarely get talked about and addressed, compounded by intersexism, interphobia, intermisogyny, and, since Owen is of color, intermisogynoir that also rarely gets addressed and talked about). This makes Owen's reaction to this repressed memory and PTSD flashback getting unlocked a clear trauma response that's hard to watch (and more so as Owen putting his head into the TV is a dead on visual representation of gender dysphoria and PTSD's effects on the brain). What happens afterwards is Owen then being left more damaged and conflicted than he was before which also intensifies his identity crisis; though most of what I saw was Owen also sweeping his trauma and identity crisis under the rug, withdrawing and turning inwards and becoming more reclusive, even resistant, when Maddy tries to get Owen to go with her back to their actual world and, by proxy, embrace his real self, his real gender identity. But Owen resists, protests, shrinks back and flees in fear every time; and throughout the movie Owen carries himself not just with a painfully shy awkwardness, barely speaking above a whisper, but also with a palpable shame attached to him, as if he's ashamed over who he is. This is reflected via Owen's parents' reactions to Owen asking to watch The Pink Opaque--for Owen's mom, she doesn't let him only based on his scheduled bedtime, but his dad's snarky comment "Isn't that a girl's show?" speaks volumes.

This echoes how intersex folks can feel great conflict over our gender and expression and struggle how to even express ourselves due to the stigma and stigmatizing views that treats folks that are born intersex like we're deformities or shameful secrets to be suppressed, silenced, swept under the rug and kept behind closed doors, and further made to outwardly conform to other people's rigidly and oppressively cisnormative social desirability politics and other people's endocentric social standards of gender and "normalcy", much of which is steeped in eugenics/eugenicism and then bleeds over into intersexism and interphobia. In other words, intersex folks are neither female or male but are forced by a judgmental, shallow and intersexist society into "picking a side" just like how mixed race and multiracial folks are pressured by a racist, judgmental society into "picking a side". Someone else saw this as an allegory for autistics and masking, and I can honestly and frankly say that that also fits and something I can also resonate with as I'm also autistic and a late self diagnosed autistic along with being intersex, multiracial and an interfemme of color (hence making oppressive coercive social standards of normalcy also tip over into ableism and racism).

Which then makes Owen frequently suppressing and running from his real true self and struggling to conform to society's superficial and rigid standard of masculinity and lose his sense of innocence painful and sad to watch, and the end is a heartbreaking, tragic gut punch of an ending. Owen never sees Maddy again, he's stuck in empty dead end jobs he doesn't take much pride in, he's still a wallflower that's out of place in the world and he's trying to fit a social box of conformity that's only making him more miserable; and when Owen has his emotional meltdown and panic attack during a birthday party at his job and flees to the bathroom, the glowing static we see inside Owen's chest as he zips it open in my opinion can represent a multitude of things: the pain, trauma and ache of him being ripped away from his original home and life, his lost friendship with Maddy, his loss of innocence and wonder, the lost opportunity to find freedom to embrace his gender identity, the grief over the death of his mother, the fear and loneliness that's haunted him for decades, and just a plethora of Owen's emotional wounds and traumas that never got addressed and resolved. Then Owen zips his chest back up, walks back out and frantically apologizes, to a crowd of people who not only don't see or look at him, but who also don't seem to care. If that's not a tragedy, then tell me what is.

Like I said, I see myself in Owen, and my heart hurts for him. Cause there are so many real life Owens out there. And I was Owen at one point in time.

Thankfully, my story didn't end as sadly: I've been addressing, dealing with and unpacking a lot of my traumas and mental, emotional and psychological issues, navigating my life as a queer autistic neurodivergent, an individual of color and an intersex individual of color and the messiness of my gender and gender identity and expression. Some days are more up and down than others, and with me having recently turned 30 and contending with the fact that I've lost most of my years of being 21-29 to mental illness, me turning 30 is decidedly a new chapter of a restart for me and that along with my mental health and trauma recovery and healing journey, embracing my autistic neurodivergence and embracing my identity as an intersex individual has been healing, enlightening, eye opening and empowering. Now I've actually been experiencing gender euphoria in embracing my identity as an intersex individual and an intersex individual of color, and embracing my intersex masculinity / intermasculinity and intersex femininity / interfemininity in equal measure and with equal love. And this in turn helps me experience autistic joy. And it's a wonderful place to be in.

And I hope that all the real life Owens in the world, whether autistic, neurodivergent, queer, of color or intersex, or all of the above--and especially other intersex folks in general--will be able to reach that place of peace, healing, freedom, empowerment, joy and recovery someday too.

It's not too late. There is still time.

😊😊💛💜💛💜💛💜💙💖

[bluehoodiewoozi]

The First Step

Boo Seungkwan x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, coming of age

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: mental breakdowns. adulting is hard. food mentions. mutual pining. 

[Series: Serenity Street 17] Your neighbour witnessed your mental breakdown and decided to take you under his protective wing.

The first step is always the hardest. 

You found yourself repeating the mantra to yourself day and night after moving into your new apartment. It was a free comfort. 

No more parents, siblings or roommates. Just you, yourself, and your new independence, in an apartment that you were almost entirely responsible of. You could decorate to your own desires, you could sleep until noon without anyone judging, you could get as many houseplants and paintings and chairs and blankets as you ever wished. 

You had smiled brightly when you first placed your three plates into the cupboard and fluffed the cushions on the sofa. You had laughed in joy when you played your music out loud without anyone telling you to lower the volume. These were your first steps into adulthood and the first steps were always the hardest. 

At first the mantra seemed to work and you didn’t feel too awful about your newfound independence, but after a while, the words lost their magic.

How many steps could be the counted as the first ones? Who’s to say if you had already taken all of them and all that was left was adult misery?

Now, a month into living entirely on your own, you were on the breaking point. You paid rent and bills for the first time and you realised a crucial fact: you were entirely alone. 

For some reason, today, this thought made your return from work uneasy. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to go there at all. Would it be too late to catch a train to your old home?

The lift moved upwards too fast for your liking that day. You opted for the slow route the stairs provided. Just so you could feel miserable for a little longer. Just to have a little more time to comfort yourself.

Four floors of stairs should have been more than enough to resolve the conflict raging in you. At the very least it should’ve distracted you. But the travel did neither and you were just as miserable – if not more – when you reached the door of apartment 4A. 

As you stared the number, feeling somehow hollow at the thought of spending yet another night alone, lonely and miserable, something warm touched your cheek. It rolled gently along the skin. A single tear.

You scoffed at the idea of crying over something so silly. There was no way you were crying. Absolutely no way; you brushed the tear off your cheek and sniffled while searching your pockets for the key. 

Your hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? Why was the entire world seeming to shake around you, mocking your loneliness?

“Hey, are you okay?” a soft voice sounded from your left.

Hastily, you brushed any tears off your face and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It was easier to ignore the way your voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. But the person worrying for you seemed to think otherwise. He sighed.

“There’s no use in lying to me, you know,” he told you matter-of-factly while taking slow steps closer to you. “I’m kind of like a human lie detector.”

“It’s fine. It’s whatever.” You shook any ideas of telling him out of your head. You had no interest in having a therapy session with a stranger. 

Yet tears still fell as you held the key up to the hole it was supposed to fit in. You brushed them off again before a streak of black became visible on the sleeve. You scoffed. “And now my make-up’s ruined! Great!”

“Here,” the man offered and took the key from your shaking hands. He unlocked the door for you and led you inside with a gentle hand on your upper back. “There we go. You look like you need to lie down for a little.”

You opened your mouth to argue. Only a breathless sob came out as you nearly fell onto the sofa. Your own body was betraying you in front of a stranger.

“I’m Seungkwan,” he offered, as if reading your mind and the doubts inside of it, “I live in 4B. So, I’m not a complete stranger. You can trust me, even if it’s just a little.” He then grimaced a little. “Or, if you really don’t trust me, you can just report me to Lee Jihoon. I’m sure he’d be glad to yell at me for causing an already-crying person distress.”

For some reason, his words made you feel a little better. Maybe it served as a distraction. Maybe it reminded you that you weren’t as alone in this building as you felt. 

“Would he really yell at you?” you asked in a meek voice when your cries subsided after a little a while. 

As your eyes slowly cleared, you found yourself staring at a friendly-looking man, his hair a dark tousled mess, his grey sweater covered in patches of white dog fur, and a pair of bunny slippers on his feet. He seemed nothing if not friendly.

Seungkwan scoffed at your question. “Jihoon would yell at me for fun on a random Wednesday midnight. He once chewed me out for removing a silly post-it note off the notice board.” His feet nudged yours. “Have you met him yet? He’s the building owner’s son so he’s sort of in charge of all the tenants. How long have you lived here anyway? I think I was out of town when you moved in.”

“A month now.”

“A whole month? And this is the first time we’ve talked?” He seemed puzzled, flabbergasted, and almost offended. “That’s strange. I’m usually friends with everyone within a week.”

You sighed and stared at your feet. “I’m not the most sociable type. Sorry.”

Immediately he frowned. “What are you apologising for? It’s fine. We’re going to be friends now.” He said it with such conviction that you had no option but to trust him. 

Maybe you just liked the thought of having a friend in this building. Someone to talk to and vent to and to offer you emotional support. A friend, finally. 

“Did you have dinner yet?” he asked soon after. “If you don’t feel like cooking, we can share mine? I made too much food again anyway.”

“I…” You really doubted you should agree. He was still, essentially, a stranger. Your neighbour, sure, and a possible future friend, but you knew nothing about him outside of his overly kind nature. Perhaps you were feeling desperate for some company that night, or maybe you wanted to take yet another first step – you said yes. 

Within fifteen minutes, Seungkwan had covered your coffee table with plates full of side dishes and rice. He smiled brightly as he watched you eat your first mouthfuls. And it seemed that just as fast as the impromptu dinner started, it ended. Soon, your stomach was full as was your heart and your mind felt a little bit more at peace now. 

“See, you look happier already,” he cooed and offered you a sweet look that made butterflies fly just a little in your lonely heart. “Eat some more. If we can’t finish this, I’ll have to bring these to the sixth floor to Vernon again and I just don’t have the energy to deal with him today.”

“I can’t fit any more food in me,” you whined and fell further into your soft sofa. “I’m going to burst at this rate. Why do you cook so much anyway?”

He shrugged. “Force of habit. I used to room with Vernon and Junhui in 6A and they eat a lot, but they’re such a mess that I just couldn’t take it anymore and moved to 4B when the possibility came.” He ate a mouthful of kimchi before adding, “Best decision of my life.”

Your heart felt heavy again. “Did you ever feel lonely after you moved into 4B?”

“Lonely?” He blinked at you. “Lonely how?”

“Like you’re all on your own again and you don’t have anyone to depend on? Like you’re entirely responsible for your life now? And now if you break the washing machine you have to replace it entirely out of your funds?”

You watched him as the reality of your situation sunk in. His lips fell into a pout the more he thought about it. 

“Is that why you were crying earlier?” he asked gently. “You’re scared of living on your own like this?”

“It’s not that I’m afraid,” you corrected with a deep breath between the phrases, “but it is all a little scary. It’s like the real life has just begun.”

“Because it has,” he reminded you with a gentle pat on the back, “but that’s the best part. You’ll get used to it soon, you’ll find more friends soon, and then you’ll have people to depend on and you’ll know what to do. It just takes a little time to figure it out.”

You sighed. It came out a little shaky. “Will you help me? Will you help me figure it all out?”

He offered a smile. “If you want my help, absolutely. And if you want the help of other people in this building, just say the word, and they’ll all come running to help you fix your washing machine, okay?”

You let out a laugh, and though it wasn’t quite cheerful yet, it was getting there slowly, just as you were getting used to your situation slowly. 

“But to answer your question,” Seungkwan began after a moment of thought, “yes. I felt lonely at first. I kept going back to 6A in the evenings, just lounging on their couch as they ate my leftovers. I still cook for three even though it’s just me.” He sighed. “I did get a dog though, so that’s good. I never could’ve gotten a dog living with those two. They’re both cat people.”

“Should I get a pet too?” you wondered for a moment, more just to have a thought than to actually consider it. 

Seungkwan looked around the apartment for a moment, then turned to give you a glance and a smile. “I think maybe start with a houseplant first. If you need someone to water it when you’re out of town, just call me or any of the other tenants. I think Chan and Anna both have a knack for plants. Just don’t call Jihyeon – she’s as forgetful and lazy as they come.”

Feeling a little lighter after hearing his words, you decided to joke, “And if I break my washing machine, which tenant do I call then?”

Seungkwan took a bite of rice and radish. He chewed thoughtfully before deciding, “Joshua from 3A. He’s good with this kind of stuff.”

Funnily enough Jihoon had told you the exact opposite: to avoid asking for Joshua’s help at any cost. You laughed at the contradiction. This time laughter didn’t feel so difficult. 

Little did you know, it was at this moment that Seungkwan made a silent promise to protect your smile for as long as you would allow him.

He quickly became your best friend in the entire city. It came easy with the way he always seemed to return from his morning run just as you were leaving for work. The at-first hesitant bows and smiles quickly turned into cheerful waves and morning news. And just like that, you had a friend. You didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

“Oh, I hate to ask this, but do you mind if we have dinner together tonight?” he had asked you this morning, his face still red from the physical exertion. “My cooker broke last week and I’m about to go insane if I don’t get a home-cooked meal.”

You had shrugged and told him, “Fine, but you’re cooking.”

Truthfully, you almost forgot about your promise at work. There was so much to do, and so little time. The memory of the morning exchange only came to you as you walked into the building on Serenity Street. You wondered if Seungkwan had known you’d be too exhausted to cook dinner that night. 

The thought of warm food on your mind, with a newfound vigour, you stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the 4th floor. Before long – but just long enough that you felt a little impatient – you were at your destination, and so was Seungkwan.

He was once again wearing his bright smile, red pyjama pants and a grey sweater (this time it didn’t have any dog fur at least). His hair was still a tired mess and he was wearing his signature bunny slippers as he waited outside of your door. 

“Good evening, my wonderful neighbour,” he declared loudly the moment you stepped into his view. 

You offered him a playfully dramatic bow and unlocked the door, opening it for him. “What’s on the menu today, my good sir?”

He snorted at the honorific and practically ran to throw his phone onto the coffee table and himself onto your sofa as if it was his own home. “Whatever the master of the house wishes. I can cook well.”

“In that case,” you contemplated for a bit before deciding on your latest craving, “pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” He hummed in agreement but made no movement to remove himself from your sofa.

You lifted your foot to nudge him with it. “Do you not have a sofa of your own? Or, like, a bed?”

He grunted and closed his eyes tighter. “My sofa isn’t as soft. Seriously,” he sat up just a bit to give it a once-over, “where did you get this thing from? It’s like a luxury item.”

“I don’t know, it was here when I moved in,” you laughed. “Ask Jihoon.”

He fell back into the softness and moaned in content. “I will. The next time I see him.”

You shrugged off your coat and sat down next to him, lifting your legs onto the sofa and, when you realised you could have more fun with it because this was your sofa, you threw your legs over his thighs. He only hummed and gave your calf a soft pat. 

When a few minutes had passed of just relaxing and becoming one with the couch, you finally felt your tummy grumble. So, you nudged Seungkwan. “Hey, when are you going to make pancakes?”

Seungkwan sighed. “Do I have to?”

“You promised.”

“I also promised my mom I’d stop eating convenience store snacks every other day, and yet here we are.”

“So, you’re not going to make me pancakes?”

He hummed affirmative. 

You shook your head in mock disappointment. “Guess I’ll have to report you to Jihoon then. Such a shame. I’m sure he’ll love to yell at you though.”

His eyes opened just a little to glare at you. When you offered an innocent smile, he groaned and sat up properly. “And to think I took you under my wing because you seemed like such a shy little sweetheart.”

“Are you suggesting I’m not?”

“You might actually be the devil.”

“Ouch. Now, make us some pancakes.”

Seungkwan sighed deeply and reached for his phone. You watched curiously as he unlocked it. “Hey, Siri?” He paused for a moment before sighing once again and asking, “How do you make pancakes?”

Your laughter quickly filled the apartment, unable to believe he didn’t know how to make something a simple as pancakes. What a great cook!

“Do you want me to cook instead?” you teased as he read over the instructions provided by his phone. “I think I’ll do better than you.”

He offered you a mild glare. “I’d like you to put a bit more trust in my ability to cook, neighbour.”

“I’d trust you if you didn’t have to ask Siri for a pancake recipe,” you retorted with a laugh and relaxed into the couch.

“I’ll show you!” He stood up abruptly, pushing your legs off his own, and offered you yet another mild glare, a bit more playful than irked.

You hummed. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“I won’t need any help. I’m not five.” He stuck out his tongue before laughing at his own silliness and waddling to the kitchen while mumbling to himself, “I’m like a child today; what’s going on?”

Deciding to give Seungkwan the benefit of a doubt, you remained in your seat and picked up your phone to pass the time. He was an adult man, so surely he could make pancakes on his own.

Barely two minutes passed – complete with the sound of cupboards being opened and closed – before you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. Seungkwan stood behind the couch, looking like a sheepish child with the way he slumped and pouted in your front of your eyes.

You blinked up at him. “... Yes?”

He pouted some more. “Where’s your mixing bowl?”

“I thought you didn’t need help.”

“Just tell me where the mixing bowl is and I won’t ask for any more help,” he vowed but somehow the both of you knew it was an empty promise. Still, you got up and helped him out. 

Watching him cook would at least distract you from your exhaustion. 

Five minutes passed and you found yourself questioning your decision to let him into your kitchen at all. As he continued adding more and more flour to the mix, you tapped his wrist. “I’m not entirely sure that’s correct.”

“Are you questioning my judgement?”

“Absolutely. You’re going to break our teeth.”

He blinked at you. “Isn’t the mix supposed to be thick?”

“You’re not baking a cookies, you’re frying pancakes.” 

“... Is that why not even Vernon liked my pancakes?” he realised, looking as annoyed as he did heartbroken. “No one ever told me the mix was supposed to be lighter.”

“I’m telling you now,” you told him with a laugh and a gentle pat on his head. “The mix is ready, you just have to fry it now. Do you want some help?”

He scoffed. “I’ve got this part down, I’m sure. I’m not that dumb.”

“I’m not saying you’re dumb,” you whined in response, “I’m just saying that this will take you forever do make on your own and I’m hungry now. I’m gonna faint at this rate, Seungkwan.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed and put his hands up in defeat. “You get the pans, I’ll turn the cooker on.” He clicked his tongue at your excitement. “You’re so lucky we’re friends.”

Unfortunately your friend couldn’t always be there to comfort you and offer amusement after a long day. 

“Leave your message after the signal,” you heard his voice repeat back to you when you tried to call him on your way home. The things you would’ve done for just one minute of his company after this Friday.

It had been a horrible day all around, ever since you opened your eyes. You woke up late, the lift kept jolting weirdly when you tried to leave the building, then you were late to work and making mistakes left and right, eventually spilling your hot drink on your legs during lunch break – all around terrible and horrible and awful. 

All you wanted was your best friend’s support. 

“Leave your message after the signal,” his voice asked you once again, the pre-recorded message just playing back every time you dialled his number. You’d have to spend this lonely and bad evening on your own.

As you entered the apartment building, you just about started crying on the spot right in front of the lift. 

“Out of service due to a mechanical error. Sorry :(” read the building owner’s son’s handwriting on a white piece of paper taped to the doors.

Of course the lift was broken on this particular day. Tears were already burning in your eyes, but at least you now knew why the lift had been so shaky in the morning. 

You took a deep breath and turned towards the stairs. To your dismay, the building owner just so happened to enter the hallway when you turned that way. He offered you curious look. “Hey, are you okay? Is this because of the lift? It should be fixed by next week.”

You wished it had been just about the lift. You replied with a shake of your head and headed up the stairs. He called after you but you decided to ignore it. You needed the comfort of either you best friend or no one, but not a stranger you only saw once a week.

The door of your apartment could not have been further away. When you finally reached it, another horrible reality hit you. 

You felt your pockets, rummaging through them with increasing panic. Soon you were crying while desperately searching your pockets and bag. Finally, it became clear: you had forgotten your apartment key in your desk drawer at work. The mental image of shutting said drawer as you left work seemed to echo in your mind. You slumped against the door and sat on the floor with a sob.

“Hey, are you okay?” your other friendly neighbour asked. 

Jihyeon was her name and she was a college student living in apartment 4D – the least least renovated apartment in the building, and thus the cheapest one. You only knew about her through Seungkwan’s retellings of his playful feud with said neighbour. 

Could you consider a friend to confide in?

“Did something happen?” she wondered and rushed to kneel in front of you. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“I can’t get into my apartment,” you eventually told her through tears. “God, this day has been absolutely horrible.”

She frowned at your words and reached out to pat your shoulder. “I don’t have the spare key of 4A either. I don’t know if even Jihoon does. Do you want me to go ask him?”

You dreaded going back to the first floor to ask for Jihoon’s help when he’d already witnessed you have a break-down over what he must have assumed was the lift. You figured you’d rather just sleep on your welcome mat.

“I guess that’s a no,” Jihyeon concluded hurriedly and pulled you into a gentle hug when you started crying just a little harder. Crying into her shoulder felt a little safer, at least. “There, there, I’ve got you.”

“What’s going on here?” you heard a familiar voice you’d been longing for after what felt like hours of crying.

Jihyeon let you keep crying as she answered, “She had a bad day and she doesn’t have her key. She’s been crying for 15 minutes now.”

Seungkwan let out a little whine. Then you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, gently pulling you away from Jihyeon’s comforting embrace. The smell of Seungkwan’s cologne did wonders to you. 

“What happened, hm?” he asked you softly when your cries let up a little.

“I forgot my key at work,” you told him, unsure if you could recount the rest of your day without crying more yet. “I just want to eat dinner and sleep all of this off.”

The feel of his lips on your forehead was unfamiliar. Another first step. You wondered how hard it was for him. Was it was difficult at all.

He then offered, “Do you want to come to my apartment? I’ll make you some food and you can sleep a little.” 

You nodded so lightly that you wondered if he’d realise you did it at all. But Seungkwan knew you better than anyone in this building – and possibly this entire town – and he knew perfectly well what you meant.

He leaned down to offer you a little smile before helping you onto your shaky legs. His key was ready in his hand already, just waiting to unlock the door. 

When you stepped into his apartment, you quickly realised that in your months of friendship, you hadn’t been to Seungkwan’s home even once. He always came to your apartment, often with dinner and a wide smile. Today you came into his apartment, with a sad heart and eyes full of tears.

“Here, I’ll take your coat.”

You let him do as he pleased. You didn’t even protest when he just about dragged you to his sofa and placed a soft throw blanket over your lap. As tears dried, you just felt a little numb. You distracted yourself from the empty feeling with the affection of Seungkwan’s little white dog. The small animal had made his way into your lap and seemed to greatly enjoy tummy rubs.

“I think he likes you more than he likes me,” you hazily remember Seungkwan telling you at one point. 

Your sense of time must have also been affected because you could’ve sworn dinner was ready within mere minutes and it was finished just as fast. In reality over an hour had passed.

“Do you want to stay the night?” he offered while encouraging you to nap on his sofa. “Then you could sleep in your own bed instead of my sofa– Actually, do you want my bed? I can’t let you sleep on this thing made of bricks.”

“It’s not too bad,” you managed to tell him over the edge of the blanket. The dog had also settled down with you under the fleece material, happy to rest his little head on your arm.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Are you insane? You’ll get back problems.”

“You don’t have to give up your bed for me,” you told him as he began dragging you towards his bedroom. “I’m fine on the sofa.”

“No, I’m fine on the sofa. You had a hard day and deserve the best sleep,” he declared and began searching through his drawers when he eventually got you to sit on the soft mattress. Before you could even say anything, he handed you a t-shirt and some shorts. “I can’t let you sleep in your work clothes either. These will be more comfortable.”

He left the room without giving you the chance to protest. So, you did as he expected and dressed in his clothes. Something about them felt so comforting that you found yourself regretting the thought of rejecting them. 

“There you go,” Seungkwan told you just a few minutes later, placing the blankets over you in a motherly manner. He had made sure to bring the fleece throw he had given you on the sofa, as well as the white little dog – Bookkeu was his name. 

“He’ll keep you warm at night,” your friend joked and gave the dog a little pat on the head. The dog didn’t seem to mind and just snuggled further into your side. “I’ll leave you to sleep now,” Seungkwan whispered after pressing just one more small kiss to your forehead. “If you need anything, I’m in the living room. Good night.”

Whatever his bed was made of, it was the best sleep you had had since moving into the building. You felt at home in his room, his dog by your side, and sleep still heavy in your eyes. 

When you finally woke up on Saturday, your brain was less emotionally distressed and more annoyed. As you sat there, you wondered if you’d have to spend the entire weekend in Seungkwan’s apartment – your one houseplant would die of loneliness (but mostly underwatering). 

Deciding this was a problem to be solved after breakfast, you stumbled out of Seungkwan’s room. Bookkeu was right on your tail.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Seungkwan’s singing voice greeted you, accompanied by the smell of fresh pancakes.

You weren’t sure you could trust his pancakes. His last attempt hadn’t exactly been encouraging. Suspicious of the food but grateful nevertheless, you sat down at his table. “You cooked.”

“I did,” he told you with a laugh. “And now you get to eat.”

You placed a pancake on your plate carefully, eyeing it as if it would start screaming at any moment. 

“I think I made them the right way this time,” Seungkwan mentioned as he watched your theatrical act. “I even asked for Mingyu’s help. I never ask for Mingyu’s help.”

“Mingyu?” You raised an eyebrow and finally took a forkful of the pancake, hesitantly lifting it. “You called him?”

“No, we met when I went downstairs to see Jihoon.” 

He gently pushed your full fork upwards towards your lips. It helped that your jaw had fallen open to ask the next question. Your words were muffled by the bite of pancakes as you asked, “Why did you go to see Jihoon?”

Seungkwan snapped his fingers, remembering something. He jumped up and rushed towards the kitchen to rummage through something. A moment later, he returned with something small and shiny in his hand. He opened his palm and smiled at your proudly. “I got you a spare key.”

You dropped your fork. “A spare key?”

“Yeah, Jihoon said he was going to give you one anyway, to give to one of the neighbours in case you forget your own,” he told you and placed the key in your hand. “All apartments have two spares, one for you to give to someone you trust, and another for the owners, or Jihoon, in the case of emergency.”

“Then I’m supposed to give this to someone I trust?” 

He nodded. “I gave mine to Jihyeon. She may be a little lazy and she might procrastinate more than healthy, but she’s trustworthy. I’m sure she’d be happy if you gave yours to her too.”

“Who has her key then?” you wondered, your finally curiosity making a comeback after the previous day’s dreadful events. 

“I’m pretty sure Junhui has it.”

“Why Junhui?” As much as you thought the man in question was a sweetheart, you highly doubted his ability to keep a spare key safe. Especially after all of the horror stories Seungkwan had told you about Junhui and Vernon’s apartment. 

Seungkwan thought for a moment, brows furrowing, before shrugging. “Who knows what goes through her head, honestly. I’m sure you’ll make a better choice though.”

You told yourself you’d think about it later, but you had an idea already.

The more time you spent with Seungkwan, the more you began to wonder if what was between you was just friendship. Maybe it was and you were just overthinking it. Or maybe his heart fluttered a little bit whenever he saw your smile too. 

“Just date already,” Mingyu told the two of you when you returned from shopping and Seungkwan took half of your bags from you. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at the nosy neighbour but Seungkwan beat you to it. 

“Mind your own business, Kim Mingyu!”

The man in question rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to but the two of you are blocking the lift with all of these bags and your heart-eyes.”

“What business do you have that you need to use the lift anyway? You live on the first floor,” you wondered, fully aware that he lived on the first floor. The only possible reason you could think of was escaping Xin’s or Jihoon’s wrath. 

He sighed deeply and turned on his heel. “Fine, I’ll just take the stairs.”

“Nice,” Seungkwan laughed as the doors closed, “we have the lift to ourselves. This thing is too small for three people.”

He then began inspecting your bags. “What did you buy anyway? These don’t look like groceries.”

“Thought I’d finally decorate my apartment to my liking,” you confessed. “It’s getting kind of dull living like this.”

“But you still didn’t buy any houseplants though,” Seungkwan joked. “I think your apartment could use some better air.”

You grimaced. “I don’t know anything about houseplants though. I’d probably kill it like I did the last three.”

“Have you tried getting a cactus?”

The lift came to a stop and opened its doors. You stepped out and headed towards your apartment with Seungkwan in tow.

“Oh, wait,” Seungkwan begged and rushed to his own door, “let me get Bookkeu. He’d love to see your apartment.”

You weren’t sure if white dog fur would go with your new vision of the apartment, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

Within seconds, Bookkeu was out the door and jumping in front of your feet, excited beyond belief. 

“He really likes you more than his own owner,” Seungkwan sighed in disappointment and waited for you to unlock the door. “And to think I spent all those years raising you, you brat.”

“I’m starting to think Bookkeu likes everyone but Seungkwan,” Jihyeon cracked her door open just to make the joke and then closed the door again. Rumour had it her apartment has zero noise isolation and she could hear every word uttered in this hallway. You felt a little bad for her. 

Seungkwan rolled his eyes before closing them and reminding himself, “Everyone is free to form their own opinions.”

You opened the door in the meantime. Unsurprisingly, Bookkeu was the first one inside. You and Seungkwan struggled a little to enter with all of the bags. How you had made it home at all was a miracle.

“This is a lot of stuff,” Seungkwan concluded once the bags were laid out onto the floor. “Do you need all of this?”

“I just want to feel at home in my apartment,” you told him with a shrug.

He hummed in agreement. “Are you also going to do any actual remodelling? Or just the decorations?”

“I’m thinking of changing the wallpaper.”

“Great, just let me know when and I’ll come over to help. That’s a two-people job.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at how easily he agreed to help you, even without being asked. He just expected to help you wherever he could. You’d pay back the favour one day.

“Should we put on some music?” he suggested, already reaching for his phone with one hand while heading to your bedroom. “Your speaker’s on your bedside table, right?”

You nodded and began unpacking the first bag. Bit by bit, you uncovered the new curtains and table cloths you had purchased. Just seeing them in your apartment brought you joy.

As you debated which curtains to put up, you heard the speaker beginning to play on the coffee table – you must have been very distracted to not notice Seungkwan returning and sitting so close to you on the floor that he was touching you. 

“Oh, I put this together for you,” he excitedly told you while turning the volume up. “I think you’ll like these songs.”

Your heart stuttered. It wasn’t fair that he had this effect on you when he was just being friendly. 

Once you were sure your voice wouldn’t betray your conflict of feelings, you uttered, “You made me a playlist?” He nodded nonchalantly (but if you had paid him just a little more attention, you would’ve realised his ears were more red than his hoodie). You just couldn’t believe it. “A playlist? For me?”

“Yeah,” he stuttered after a while, unable to meet your eyes as he tried to play it cool. “If you don’t like it, you can just say.”

“Can you send me the link?”

He gulped and whipped his head to meet your eyes. “What?”

“The link. Send it.” It was your turn to act cool. Your hands were shaking just a little as you continued unpacking. “I’ll have to give it a good listen one day to judge if you know me that well at all.”

You weren’t looking so he dared to smile. “Alright. I’ll send it later.”

“By the way,” you cleared your throat and continued your act, “take the spare key when you leave later.”

Seungkwan just about dropped his phone on Bookkeu’s head. It occurred to you that maybe – just maybe – you had a similar effect on him as he did on you.

“You want me to have it?” he asked to confirm. “Are you sure? You don’t want to give it to Jihyeon?”

“I trust you more,” you told him softly. “I’d like you to have it.”

His lips formed a pout as he bit back the wish to cry of joy – he had earned your trust and made you feel safe, just as he had promised himself he would. You thought of him as your friend.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispered after a while, his hand finding yours to give it a gentle squeeze before returning to where Bookkeu sat in his lap. “I’ll keep your key safe.” (He wished he had the courage take the first steps and add, “just like I’ll keep you safe.”)

NOTE: Happy holiday season! This fic was written when I was homesick and thus it may be self-indulgent, but I hope it brought some comfort or was at least somewhat enjoyable to read <3 

This was originally supposed to have more romance, but you know what? Not everyone needs to be in love and not every fic needs to have a cheesy confession scene. I like this fic the way it is. However, fully expect these two to become a cute couple in the background of the next serenity street fics!

[pendragonsclotpole]

i’ve watched the first three episodes of the pjo series and then decided to wait. ostensibly this is because once season one is done i can binge it all in one go like i read the book, but i have a confession to make. i can’t stand to watch it.

hear me out: i read these books when i was in grade school. tlt? fifth grade. the rest of the original series? powered me through sixth grade and into seventh. hoo? eighth grade and first year or two of high school. i was a baby. percy jackson and his friends were either my age or older than me and doing shit i could not even comprehend.

i’ve seen a lot of discourse online about the changes made in the show and how they don’t align with how some fans remember the books, and i think that criticism perfectly echoes my feelings on this series. when i read pjo, i saw myself in the characters and saw my interactions with people older than me in their interactions with adults or older characters. case in point sally and luke.

i’m gonna have to make another post about my feelings for show!sally vs book!sally (tldr: book!sally reminds me of how i thought of the adults in my life and their complicated relationships with other adults as a kid, show!sally shows me that things were never so clear cut, surviving/being a survivor is mastering how to balance on a tight tope into adulthood, and sometimes the monsters we remember from our childhoods are a lot more pathetic than we ever realized. don’t even get me started on how i spent my whole life thinking of sally as a woman in her late twenties/early thirties with nothing in her life put together. seeing her in the show was a slap to the face for that notion, because sally seems so much older, but also so much closer to my age than percy in terms of maturity if not actually and what does that mean for me?)

but now about luke. jfc he looks so young. i think it was so easy to demonize luke because he was older, described as college aged, and perfect and popular and a mentor. he felt so responsible, so caring that the betrayal from him in tlt felt so much worse because as a reader i inherently related to percy, annabeth and thalia.

but growing up is realizing i’m now older than book!Luke in tlt and if i was faced with the loneliness of not having at least one good parent, i might be just as bitter as him. heck i do have one good parent, and i think i’m just as bitter as him about somethings. i’m older than him and somehow still feel so much younger. and also, show!luke’s actor is so young looking! i didn’t expect that to be such a hard pill to swallow, realizing the actor is actually 19 made me want to roll up into a ball and cry because fuck, did i look that young at 19??? i’m still in my early 20s, but somehow you do so much growth in the span of those years that just blows my mind. it isn’t fair and it feels like loss and at the same time, i think i understand why rick riordan and the rest of the writing/production team made the choices they did. on the one hand, they could have stuck to the books as faithfully as possible and recreated word for word the story we remembered from when we were kids, but on the other hand, they had the chance of portraying the story as it was and now would be now that we’re the grown ups.

i’m gonna finish the season, eventually, but i don’t yet have the emotional maturity to not hate every little change.

[hanzajesthanza]

"controversial opinion" 👀 ? do say…

(the tag for context; the subject being parasocial relationships)

well. i just don’t think that parasocial relationships are that bad. i haven’t looked into the scientific publishings on it or anything, but…

contrary to the popular opinion of moral panic, sound the alarms, the children are thinking they’re friends with streamers, i knew twitch was the work of the devil…

it seems to me that people have always been attached to people they don’t know in close ways. even if you hear a story about someone, some mythical being, that draws you close to an individual that you’ve never know IRL, but whose “presence” gave you comfort. people have liked and felt familiar with the ideas of people without actually knowing them, from like, day one.

and then, when writing, and later, radio and television, became widespread, ideas and communication did too, with people being fond of and comfortable with the presences of radio personalities and actors in their homes.

i think we’re just seeing parasocial relationships more prominently now, because technology has advanced to the point where, to share your opinions, ideas, artistic expression, while also attaching your face and your voice to it, has become ubiquitous. and this was happening before the concept of the influencer existed, there were bloggers and internet personalities in the 2000s and early 2010s.

we (gen-Zers) were the first generation to have grown up with such technology—maybe not “with a phone or iPad in our hands” (as gen Alpha has) but certainly from a young age—so we grew up with these video platforms, and thus, communication with and absorption of various personalities. and all of this in a time of when our social development is the most intense, i.e., childhood, then teenhood, young adulthood.

and at the same time, we are experiencing a growth in loneliness (“an epidemic of loneliness”), and also an actual pandemic, and other shifts in social environment, such as dating moving online…

so i think it’s only natural that parasocial relationships have risen as a phenomenon, and are more visible and more prominent than, perhaps, what it was like pre-smartphone, pre-blog or vlog days.

my controversial take is this.

i think parasocial relationships only become a problem when it leads to harm: to either the person as the object of the relationship, as in (at the least) rudeness, like assuming you’re actually friends IRL and treating them as or demanding their attention as such, or (at the worst) obsessive or violent behavior like stalking. or, to the person having the parasocial relationship, in being detrimental to their social skills over time.

but i think that, if you’re just looking at your phone and watching a video from a youtuber you’ve watched videos from since you were eight years old, chilling and not being harmful to them or yourself in any way… i ask, what is the harm in not just feeling entertained, but feeling a certain familiarity on an advanced level, feeling like you’re friends—as long as you are cognizant and comfortable with that you’re not actually friends, and that the relationship is one-sided, what’s the harm? i think it’s even kind of normal amongst people who grew up with that kind of technology in their hands, which connected them to such personalities.

in the coverage of parasocial relationships, i feel like it has been a little blown out of proportion by the media, through conflating the (shall we say) “well-adjusted, normal” crowd, with sad and ugly stories of stalkers and worse—because “creepy stalker fan” is a well-known archetype by now in pop culture, so it drives more engagement and outrage.

(edit: stalking and harassment are really bad and scary—im not denying theyre not—my thought, rather, is that the amount of “normal” or even “positive” parasocial relationships probably outweigh the creepy, harassment ones, but the worst outcomes are whats reported on the most)

and i feel like this conflation also happens because the people writing these sensationalized articles did not grow up with such technology, so it’s absolutely weird and alien to them to have such a familiarity with someone they don’t know IRL (like youtubers, streamers, whom are often objects of parasocial relationships), because they basically just didn’t grow up with it—television being different than online video platforms because online video allows you to share a lot more unedited, casual moments (like playing a video game, going shopping, even eating breakfast—you can livestream anything, or vlog anything really, even the most mundane things). and these are (i’d guess) the same people that don’t understand how you can make friends via the internet, and (maybe) believe that all social interaction via the internet is sinister or insincere in some form.

they don’t understand how a parasocial connection could be a normal thing, because they’re unfamiliar with the normalcy of such content which forms the relationship, which makes it bizarre and creepy to them; however, such parasocial relationships are becoming more normal, and are hardly worth fascinating oneself over for people who grew up forming them—so much so, that they didn’t even have to think about it as being abnormal. they (we) were able to form them and at the same time rationalize them, so it never occurred to us as being something to morally concern ourselves with. this also explains why such coverage of it only occured years after such a phenomenon was even occurring.

tl;dr my take is that the concept of parasocial relationships itself is somewhat of a non-issue, and only becomes an issue when individuals conduct unhealthy or harmful behavior, or when we want to talk about parasocial relationships forming as a symptom of larger societal issues (like the loneliness epidemic). but the moral concern with parasocial relationships i think stems from a generational divide around technology and constantly evolving social norms and landscapes :p

[iricathel]

Once upon dreams and nightmares... 🥀

Event hostess @bluebird-dolly-bride

Far, far away, in a place where no other man set foot on a land rich in fronds, lived a young boy in an ancient castle bathed in gold.

Spoiled child, gluttonous for power and control to the point of becoming the nightmare of the workers.

Ungrateful brat, as some would say behind their young master's back.

Do you remember, when you almost blinded a servant?

Do you remember, when you punished the butler's son to starvation for grabbing one of your toys?

Do you remember, when you threatened to execute the cook if he used an ingredient that you disliked again?

Time heals all, but so powerful was the malice in the boy's heart, that once he reached adulthood he became completely sick with his darkness.

Some blows were heard at the huge front door, and for the first and only time, the young nobleman decided to open his entrance by himself.

"An apple, just buy me a single apple to feed my family, please sir." An elderly man sobbed, barely able to hold the mentioned fruit firmly in his wrinkled hand.

"Save your words, old man. Who do you think you're talking to? That thing doesn't even resemble a fruit." The raven-haired man spat, fixing his contemptuous gaze on the offer. "

"So give me a little help, then. My family will always be very grateful to you."

A bitter laugh splashed over the old man, poisoning his ears with that teasing smug.

"Your family will be grateful to me? And how that will benefit me? Go back the way you came, old man. I don't want to see your drooping face peering through my windows again, nor your calloused and heavy feet dragging on my marble floor."

Loud rumbles resounded in the sky, and soon it was covered in black clouds, blotting out any sunlight.

A strong and cold wind blew, and to the surprise of all present, the old man was turned into a white-haired youth with a chiseled face to resemble the very own gods.

"For your insolence and cockiness, you will have to learn a lesson. So much evil inside you must be reflected as the devil on the outside equally. Loneliness will be your sentence, because all your close beings will have been objectified. In order to find a cure, as well as two twin seeds of this apple, you will have to find your own reflection before the apple rots into mere rubble.

Be smart, child, and keep close to that person who understands you because it will be the one who can accept your seven hells."

Damn curiosity, and damn her stubbornness.

For having played with the same fate, the young blonde found herself trapped in the Beast's clutches. Rusty bars imprisoned her like a caged bird.

"You were guided to this place in order to carry out your mission. I waited for the return of the burning rays of the sun, and the green meadow returning to dye the borders of my home."

The Beast spoke, leaning against the iron bars to look at his encapsulated rose.

"With your stay here, I will guarantee the eternal upkeep of the apple and—"

"You'll still be a horned beast, excited to see a red apple like a little kid getting candy. Stay delusional, maybe that way you won't go crazy."

The Beauty with the same arrogant poison bathed the Beast.

They were two sides of the same coin, because it didn't take long for the young woman to show how conceited and proud she was.

A reflection of the same face began to be seen.

The same melody being played by two different instruments.

The Beauty and the Beast, would be forever depending on the existence of the other, for the end of time.

[ninapi]

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Save me (Oikawa Version)

Premise: After a turbulent relationship and over a year of therapy, Oikawa gets a chance to redeem himself.

Word count: 4896

Note: This isn’t an entire route, it’s just an alternate ending to Semi’s route, meaning you would need to read his route first to understand what’s going on (link here). So, this is a second version of chapter 6, basically. You choose who you want to end up with~ 🫣

Bonus Chapter: Alternate Good Ending

Oikawa Tōru was a complex human being.

He’s had many girls throughout his life, but only one actually meant something to him.

Being his first official girlfriend, all those years of young love and exploration of one-self dug deep into his own essence.

His journey was not an easy one, he had to deal with problems some of us don’t get to face until adulthood, from a very young age. Had feelings nobody should have. Awful, awful thoughts. His way of coping wasn’t the best and he ended up hurting that one person he held dear, the only one who truly needed his protection and love, the one who saw past all his charm and accepted him even with his many flaws. He ended up losing the only woman he had ever truly loved in his life.

And it was all his fault.

Back when he was in middle school and you two had been dating for a while, he was confident that he was in love with you, he couldn’t differentiate between true love and obsession. No one can blame him for that though, he was still young and inexperienced. He didn’t know better.

But when he realized he was indeed in love with you, very much so, you were already someone else’s girl.

Iwaizumi thought him realizing that would finally put an end to the vicious cycle he had with you, but it was the opposite.

Understanding his past was tough. He knew you were special to him and that’s why he felt threatened, he didn’t want to lose you the way he lost his shiny spot in the volleyball team, those two were the most precious to him at the time and he had already lost one to the same person. He was jealous, scared, he felt pathetic and developed and inferiority complex. He wanted to be seen as the best just as he was before, he was still handsome, still popular, still had his girl, so why did he feel so angry all the time back then?

Took years of loneliness and therapy to realize what he really needed.

He needed to work on himself, he needed to accept there will always be someone better. Understand that nothing lasts forever, and he can’t take people for granted. He needed to work hard if he ever wanted to completely get rid of all those ill feelings and insecurities.

But he wasn’t alone.

He had a loyal best friend who never left his side, no matter how often he said he hated his guts, he was always there for him whenever he needed him to be. Always there to support him silently, always there to slap him on the face with the ugly truth and embrace his weeping defeated self. He was blessed with a true friend, those aren’t easy to find, and he felt grateful for his existence, even if Iwaizumi didn’t appreciate the amount of affection he received back in appreciation.

 But most importantly, he had you.

You were the reason he went to therapy to begin with. Without you pushing for his well-being, he would still be his old self, and nobody wishes to ever see that guy again, not even him.

Even if you had a boyfriend of your own, you never missed one of his therapy sessions. Once, he even had to carry you on his back all the way to your school since you had a very high fever but still decided he needed you there and stayed till the very end.

You never put yourself first, he wouldn’t exactly say that is a virtue, it causes great pain to you and those around you, but he was grateful for it. Thanks to your selflessness, he was who he was now. You helped him get his shit together more than once. You helped him grow; you helped him heal.

That’s when he fell for you for real.

That’s when he finally understood what love truly was.

It was hard for him to accept you weren’t his to take any longer. If he was being honest, he still wanted you by his side. Those moments you would hold his hand during a particularly hard session, those moments you would end up crying just because he was and you just couldn’t hold back your own tears, those moments you answered your phone no matter how late it was just because he was feeling lonely and wanted to hear your voice, those were the hardest. He knew he was at fault, but reality was awful especially when you can’t run away from it anymore.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

When he was deemed ready to end up his therapy sessions, he decided he wanted to travel the world, follow his hero and try to regain his life back, let his dreams become a reality.

He still wanted to go into professional volleyball, but even if he wasn’t escaping reality anymore, he was still running away.

He didn’t want to be constantly reminded of his past, he wanted to embrace his new self and follow his lost dream, heading to Argentina.

Iwaizumi and him still talk basically every day and you, well he still called you constantly. More messages than anything else, it was still hard on him to hear your voice or see your face, even after all these years, after all the women in his life, he still feels sad every time he thinks of you, of the future he could have had.

One night, after the longest practice ever, he called Iwaizumi, he was excited because he would be flying back to Japan with his team in just a few hours, finally the time to kick Kageyama and Ushijima on the face once and for all. But he wasn’t expecting to hear this when he dialed, “Shittykawa, is it because of (Y/N)? Is that why you’re coming back?” he was honestly confused, didn’t he know his team was playing against his own back home? “What do you mean, Iwa-chan? Did something happen to her?” the long sigh that left Iwaizumi’s lips was making him anxious, he screwed up, might as well just tell him, “Didn’t you hear she broke up with the Shiratorizawa setter? I thought that’s why you were so eager to come back.”

You what? Why haven’t you said anything? Is this why you were in a bad mood the other day? “What happened?” he was now sitting on the floor, biting one of his fingernails off, “Ugh, not sure. She just said they drifted apart. She wasn’t sad or anything. I guess it just happens when you are with someone for such a long time, especially since they were together since high school. We are all different people than we were before, it’s normal that interests change over time.”

It was probably normal, yes. But not for him. He was still in deep for you and just the thought of you not being bound to anyone anymore opened a window of hope in his heart that had been closed for the longest of times.

“I see. Well let’s go out the three of us when I get back. We can go get some beers or something. Cheer her up.” he was trying to sound composed even if his brain was going a thousand miles per hour. He needed to pack fancy outfits, maybe even get a haircut. He wanted to impress you, he should go shopping for souvenirs as early as possible before his flight. You would look the cutest with one of those “I ♡ Argentina” touristy shirts.

“You still there?” Oikawa lost track of time and didn’t realize his friend had stopped talking completely by then, knowing his friend wasn’t listening. “Yeah, sorry, got distracted. What did you say?”

“Just that I’ll text (Y/N), I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, it’s been long since the three of us were together in the same room.” it was definitely better to let him do it, you never say no to him. “Yeah, please do. I’ll take you some of that expensive liquor you liked the last time.” not like he needed a bribe. Truth is, it hasn’t been long since his girlfriend left him for some other Olympic player, his stoic personality and work addiction wouldn’t let him keep a girl for long; he also craved a night out with his friends, people he knows care for him deeply and not for his achievements in the industry, “I’d like that, yeah. I’ll see you after the game then. I’d wish you luck, but you’re playing against my boys.” after some more bickering and a couple of good laughs, Oikawa packed an extra suitcase full of stuff, ready to embark on a journey he never expected he would be in again.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“You’ve gotten better, Tōru.” the sound of your voice coming from behind, made his world spin. He knew you were there; he saw you on the bleachers. Thankfully you weren’t holding any sign, his heart wouldn’t be able to take it if he saw you with an Ushijima banner, or worse, a Kageyama one.

“(Y/N)….” he gave you the softest smile you’ve ever seen in his face, quickly gathering you in his arms, “I’ve missed you so much. How have you been?” the softness of your body pressing against his made his senses go wild, this was the first time he’s seen you as an adult in real life, have your curves fit perfectly against his heavy muscle, it was turning his insides into mush.

“Could be better. But seeing you and Iwaizumi-san is brightening my mood.” he smiled against your hair, giving you a gentle squeeze before letting you go. “It better be! Just wait until you see the suitcase full of stuff I brought for you.” chuckling you waved him off and he went into the locker room to get himself cleaned up and ready for your outing.

Iwaizumi had his car already waiting for him at the entrance of the gym and you were chilling on the backseat. He jumped in beside you, leaving Iwaizumi alone at the front, “Do you think I’m a taxi or something? Get your ass here right now.” you pushed him playfully, angry Iwaizumi was always your favorite, “Go Tōru. I’ll be fine.” but his pouty self was all over you, whining about how he hasn’t seen you in so, so long and he needed to recharge his (Y/N) battery which was pretty low by now.

“I fucking hate your soul.” He could say all he wanted, but he was happy to have his friend back, it’s been a long time since he heard both of your happy bickering, it made his chest feel warm and fuzzy thinking of days when life was simpler and full of emotions.

Iwaizumi chose a private high-end Izakaya for their outing, he wanted to let his heart drown in expensive alcohol while chatting with his childhood friends. You weren’t the biggest drinker there was but agreed on having a glass of wine with them for the sake of old times.

“He just wanna get you drunk, (Y/N). Men are wolves, never forget that.” you’ve never seen someone’s face get this red, could even rival tomato skin. “Iwaizumi-san, you’re the one that's drunk. How are we going to get you home? You’re the one driving and I don’t even know where you live now.” your cheeks where slightly pink too, not used to the alcohol in your blood stream, your breath was a bit ragged as well and it was becoming hard to even breathe for the man sitting beside you. He couldn’t let this evening to end this way. He needed more of you.

“Give me your keys, Iwa-chan. Let’s all stay in my hotel room tonight.” the idea got you chocking on your wine, “I’m fine, Tōru. I can take a taxi home; you take care of Iwaizumi-san.” Bending over the table, you pat Iwaizumi’s jacket looking for the keys of his car, giving Oikawa a view to remember. He’s never been anywhere near intimate with you, the closest you got to anything steamy were forceful kisses, nothing to be proud of, but damn, life has been good to you.

“Nonsense. I won’t be here for long; I want to spend more time with you. Besides, I gotta give you all the stuff I brought for you! C’mon, love.” petting your thigh in a tender way, he got up to take care of the bill and take you both to his fancy hotel.

Iwaizumi was heavy, to say the least.

Taking him into the car and then in the hotel was a complete mess. He threw up twice, all over his nice shirt and you ended up making him sleep in the bathtub instead of the bed, just in case.

“Wow, that’s what I call an intense night” chuckled Oikawa, plopping onto the sofa of the room, “Tell me about it, my hair smells like barf. Can I borrow one of your shirts? I would like to wash my hair off in your sink and change into something clean.” he had the brilliant idea of giving you the shirt he bought for you, he got it oversized on purpose, the thought of you sleeping in it was enough to make him lose sleep during his flight.

You laughed when you saw the shirt he ‘wholeheartedly’ got for you, going back into the bathroom and slipping out of your disgustingly dirty dress, washing your hair quickly after.

Toweling your hair dry, you went back out into the main room, as clean as someone can be in a night like that and sat beside Oikawa who was scrolling through his phone. “Wait- Did you just get yourself naked in the same bathroom Iwa-chan is in right now???? How can he see you naked before me? That makes no sense.” he was now clinging onto your arm, pouting like the spoiled baby he was. “He did not see me naked, Tōru. He is unconscious, remember?” managing to peal him off of you, you laughed at his silly behavior, is like he hasn’t changed at all, his fourteen-year-old self flooding your head with warm memories. “Having your eyes closed and being unconscious is very different, (Y/N)! What if he saw you?? I would have to kill him!” in the past, those words would have made you flee and take Iwaizumi with you, but you knew he was not a danger to any of you anymore, you trusted him now, he’s earned that trust over the years, he was just being silly as usual.

“So, are you going to kill everyone whose seen me naked? What about my doctor?” his loud gasp made you burst out laughing, he is still adorable. “Ok then let’s make a rule. From today on, nobody but me, or your doctor, can see you naked. Otherwise, I will gauge their eyes out.” he kept on pouting, crossing his arms on his chest to make a statement. He was expecting you to laugh once more, but you didn’t, “So you know, huh?” you were looking down, playing with your hands. He didn’t know how to mention it, but he wanted to know more, this was the best he could come up with. “Iwa-chan told me, yeah. Are you ok?” he reached over for one of your hands, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “Yeah, I’m ok. We just had different goals in life, you know? He had his life all planned out while I…I don’t even know what I want, I thought I did, but I noticed things weren’t what I expected them to be. I went to school and got a degree like I was supposed to, I got a good job, got promoted even…”

“But you weren’t happy?” you just nodded, laying your head on his shoulder. “How about you come with me to Argentina for a while? Traveling did wonders for me. It made me have a clear head and set up some goals. You can stay with me, don’t even need to think about money. And don’t worry, I’m not trying to take advantage of the situation here; I just think a change of scenery could do you some good. Food’s pretty delicious there too.” Were you going crazy now? That actually sounded like a lovely idea. Argentina wasn’t in your to-do list, but it was far enough for nobody to know who you were, for nobody to judge your life choices.

“Would that be ok, Tōru? Don’t you have a girl or something? I don’t want to cause you any troubles. I can figure things out on my own.” you looked up at him through your lashes and his heart skipped a few beats.

You were still his beloved princess in his eyes, you meant the world to him and he wanted you to know that. “Nope, the only girl in my life is fifty-eight-year-old Sonia that cleans my house once a week.” Hearing your laughter gave him butterflies. Is this what teenage girls feel when they have a crush? Or is this how an adult male feel when he’s in love? Not like it matters but he wondered either way.

“Alright, I guess I can take some days off. I wanted to transfer to another part of the country anyways. It’s hard finding closure when you see your ex every day.”

“It’s set then, let me get your ticket ready. I have to go back the day after tomorrow. I’ll take you to your place tomorrow morning so you can get your things ready.” you nodded in between yawns, hauling such a heavy mountain of muscle was taking a toll on your body by now, “Thank you, Tōru. I’ll transfer the money of the ticket back to you tomorrow then.” you kissed his cheek, before turning into a ball on your side of the sofa, ready to go to sleep. “Sleep in the bed, pumpkin. I’ll take the sofa.” he tickled your feet, still very much occupied booking your flight. He’s never really stopped calling you silly pet names but they were really hitting hard tonight. “You should be more tired, I’ll be fine here, I’m tinier than you.”

Once he was done with the purchase, he held you up effortlessly, taking you over to the bed and turning off the lights on his way. You thought he’d just leave you there and go back to the sofa, but he didn’t. He got in bed with you and fell asleep as quick as it all happened, minding his distance to avoid making you feel uncomfortable.

Sleep reached you just as fast and the next thing you noticed were Iwaizumi’s groans, too close for comfort and the bright light of the next morning hitting your face from a badly closed window. “Did you really have to sleep together while I was in the same room? Have some decency, please. I didn’t need to see this.” Confused, you looked around sleepily. Your head was on Oikawa’s chest, he somehow ended up shirtless during the night and was holding one of your thighs up with one of his large hands, keeping you in place and riling the shirt you were wearing way to high, giving a very descriptive view of your lacy underwear to a traumatized Iwaizumi.

You sat up straight immediately, covering yourself. “It isn’t what it looks like. We didn’t ‘sleep together’ just ‘slept together’ if that makes sense. You know what I mean! Shared the same bed, no bodily fluids involved.” his hangover was killing him and your cute blushy face and disheveled self was giving him more troubles than it should, “For fuck sakes, (Y/N), just shut up, you’re only making it worse.”

“Morning, sunshine.” mumbled Oikawa groggily, burring his face on the side of your bum, hugging you closer. “Yeah right, not what it looks like. Where are my keys?” you pointed over to the nightstand, hiding your face with your hair in shame.

“Tell shittykawa I’m taking my booze. See you around, (Y/N).” you called after him, wanting his approval for what was coming next, you always valued his opinion after all. “Iwaizumi-san…. Tōru got me a plane ticket to go with him to Argentina for a few days to clear my head. Am I doing the right thing? Do you think this could trigger him back in any way? If you tell me I shouldn’t do this, I won’t.”

Oikawa was very much awake, bawling his hands onto your shirt, “You are a grown woman, (Y/N). Do what your heart tells you to. I know you won’t use him as a bounce back, you would never do that to anyone. I trust you; I know you’ve always had his best interest at heart. It’s time you do what you want to do for a change. You don’t need my permission, or Semi’s. But know you’ll always have me for whatever you might need.” Having his full support made your heart feel full, he’s always had your back even when things were really bad, hearing him say this was all you needed to feel at ease. “Thank you, hope you know I’m always here for you too, so is Tōru. I know something’s bothering you, we’ll always be here if you need to talk, just let us know when you’re ready to do so.” the soft look on your face gave him a pretty good idea of why Oikawa would just not get over you, no matter what, you were really something, “I know, I’ll be fine. Worry about you some more, will you.” grumbling, he left you behind on his way back to his own place, in deep need of a shower and some aspirin.

“I know you’re awake, Tōru.” you threaded your fingers through his short hair, his face still very much pressed to the bare skin of your thigh, “You know I would never hurt you again, right?” his mumbling brought back memories, he was still a bit unsure of his own self, still very ashamed of what he did in the past and how he hurt you, he knows you said you forgave him but would his presence still bother you? He wanted to erase all those bad memories from your head and replace them with the good ones you shared back then.

“Of course, I know. I also know you didn’t do it on purpose. C’mere.” you laid back down, bringing him to rest on your chest, soothing his ill feelings. “I just want you to be comfortable around me, I won’t lay a hand on you or tell you nasty stuff ever again. You’re the most precious being in my eyes, just wanted you to know that.” his face was now buried on the crook of your neck, holding you as close as it was humanly possible. “Well, I see two of your hands on me right now, mister.” you tried lightening up the mood, this was a good thing, for both of you. “You know what I mean, (Y/N)…” he whined, clinging onto you for dear life, “I know, I was joking. I’m not scared of you, Tōru. I trust you, I know you won’t hurt me again. You worked so hard to get where you are right now, I know you won’t go back to it.” you stayed that way in bed for an hour or so more, you thought you were soothing him, but in reality, having him cling to you, telling you sweet nothings was making you feel so much lighter, he ended up soothing you instead. Suddenly all your problems didn’t matter anymore, your discontent with your job, your lack of ambition and motivation, the break-up, everything just got out of your head and was replaced with excitement.

What would Argentina be like? You know nothing about said place, but Tōru loves it, it must be really cool and oh my god, food! You just can’t wait to try it all.

He was right, this was probably what you needed.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“Tōru, why am I sitting in first class? I can’t possibly afford this!” you whisper-yelled over to him, taking a seat beside him and double checking your boarding pass to make sure this was in fact your seat, “We all travel in first class, the government pays for it. I can’t just let you sit on economy on your own when we are having delicious food here.” you totally forgot he was actually representing a country, he was a celebrity of some sort, it made sense he traveled in first class, “But Tōru, this is a hell of a long flight, how much did this even cost? You keep on ignoring me every time I ask for your account to transfer the money!” he shushed you with his index finger to your lips, fixing your seat onto a more comfortable position, “Just relax, ok? I put you through some hardcore stuff in life, let me spoil you a bit.” his flirty wink and smile were doing things to your heart, but his teammates were also sitting beside you, enjoying the show.

“Never seen you pay for something this expensive for a girl, Oikawa. Even beers are too expensive for you when we go clubbing. I wonder, what does it take to break the man this much?” you know you’ve seen his face, he was a member of his team, older than you if you’re not mistaken. “I, ugh. We’ve known each other for a long time. I’m (Y/N) by the way.” your shy but bashful smile made the older man blush, “She’s my ex, my best girl, the love of my life, the caramel to my macchiato.” snuggling his face onto your cheek he kept on mumbling nonsense, his eyes never leaving his teammate’s, “That serious, huh? How long were you two together? I’ve never seen you last over a month with someone, a first-class seat must cost a good number of days.”

“Ummm, almost three years, right Tōru?” he nodded, reaching over for the airline blanket to cover you from the chilly air. “Yeah, something like that. Hope you know what that means.” his smile was more like a threat, he didn’t want his teammates blabbing about his adventurous ways with other women, you were special, you meant something true to him. “Got it, I’ll just shut up now. If you need anything let me know, (Y/N) was it? I can show you around town, I know the best restaurants. Hope you booked a hotel in a good area, where are you staying?” he was genuinely trying to be of any help, but it was causing Oikawa’s bile to boil, “She’s staying with me in my house. Don’t worry, I’ll take her to all the nice places.” he was now placing the noise cancelling headphones over your ears, looking for a movie on your screen, “Is this movie good enough, love?” you just nodded, hugging his arm and getting comfy for the long ride. The familiarity of it all was causing a few gasps here and there in the cabin but thankfully, you couldn’t hear them.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Argentina was a beautiful country.

Tōru took you sightseeing every time his schedule allowed him to do so. Every day felt new and refreshing, from hiking, to foodie adventures, to beach trips, every day was filled with excitement and laughter. You didn’t know you needed vacations this bad. You’ve been overworking yourself pretty much since high school and never really had a purpose in mind. You knew you wanted to have a well-paid job, stability, a place to belong and function in society, but Miyagi’s government wasn’t what you expected it would be. Office work was boring, you even had to use fax machines, who uses fax machines these days?

Life in general was way too boring back home, Semi was always busy, either with work or with his band affairs. You were consumed with working overtime and life had lost all color to you for a while now. Semi was the one to initiate the breakup, he was feeling the same way, he had no time for a relationship and felt bad about it. Love wears out if you don’t dedicate enough time to it and that was something his life lacked of, time.

But this, this was different.

Everyone there looked so free and happy. There was so much life in the streets. You kindda didn’t want to go back, and Oikawa could read you like an open book.

His advances on you had been slow. He didn’t want to freak you out, but he was confident now that you didn’t mind him sneaking tiny kisses here and there or his arms being wrapped around you at all times.

“Baby girl, why don’t you just quit your job? Stay here for good.” you were both on his balcony, enjoying the sunrise. It was bright and early, you’ve been talking all night, sleep never hitting any of you. His arms were wrapped lazily around your waist, holding you from behind, his lips trailing your ear lightly trying to sway you, “Sounds tempting. But what would I do here, Tōru? I can’t keep living off of you, doesn’t matter how much money you have.” You’ve been seriously considering not returning, at least for a while, but you didn’t want to overstay, what if he didn’t want you there? He gets bored of things quite easily. “How about you apply to the Japan embassy here? You have experience working for the government, I bet you could transfer here.” that was a brilliant idea actually, “Would be a stuck-up job still though, but I can put in your life all the spices you may need.” his low chuckle right by your ear was driving you insane, it was hard to think properly when he just wouldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“Alright, I guess that could work.”

He turned you around in a swift move, pressing his lips on yours gently, testing the waters. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, he deepened the kiss pouring all his adoration towards you in it.

The beautiful pinkish sky was left to be the only witness to the continuation of your love story.

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Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf, @lauraagrace

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[somedayillbepeterpan]

I want to write an in-depth analysis of Ji Dong-hui's murderous obsession towards Choi Chiyeol but my dumb brain can't figure out what to say.

So let's look at the timeline of Dong-hui's descent to madness. My ramblings are all over the place but I do want to talk to someone who may have a more cohesive understanding of how to explain Ji Donghui's character.

-early childhood to middle school: grew up with no dad maybe. Grew up with an emotional and physically abusive mom who took it out on both him and his sister.

-Middle school/high school: Even when the household was dysfunctional, sister grew up to be a positive person who loved to study (which is probably pushed mainly by her desire to get out of that abusive household). When mom says, her kids are her only hope, they might be poor and she wants her kids to save her from poverty. (which is never a good motivation to get kids studying). Mom does the unthinkable and pushes sister to the brink when she gave her daughter the answer sheet to "ensure" her future. Sister crumbs under the guilt and kills herself leaving the brother on his own to deal with crazy mom. He starts practicing his metal ball slingshot around this time.

-Highschool: Living with mom is hell. He is also pushed to the brink but instead of killing himself, he kills his mom. Due to being a minor (and this is also when he first starts to learn how to become manipulative), he was let go. He probably started killing animals with his metal sling shot around this time but he can never get back the feeling of revenge from killing his mom.

-Young adulthood: Ji Dong Hui is born from feelings of revenge and loneliness. Revenge probably started from the educational system and he found a "hero" he can wants to be a "support" for. Choi Chiyeol, the only adult that his sister trusted. He will serve this "hero" because this hero is the only person who showed him and his sister kindness. Also, he's just as lonely as he is.

-"Serving" Choi Chiyeol: He knows Chiyeol inside and out because he's made Chiyeol into who he is. But the Chiyeol that he knows who he thinks is "professional" is an empty shell because everything the Choi Chiyeol, the star teacher, is not really the Choi Chiyeol but Ji Donghui's projection. And he protects this projection fiercely by literally killing anyone who even comes near it (remember the girl who causes the "first scandal" that we become aware of who we never heard of again).

-Nam Haengseon comes barging in to Choi Chiyeol's life: From the get-go, Mr. Ji has done his best to keep Chiyeol to himself and to getting him away from the Nam family. From attacking them early on, to convincing Chiyeol repeatedly to get food somewhere else, from giving his disapproval to Chiyeol tutoring Haeyi, to controlling the situation by printing the materials for Haeyi, to blowing up on him when Chiyeol was angry over Mr. Popular exposing Haengseon

-Nam Haengseon and Chiyeol dating era: Nope nope nope for Ji Donghui and he starts to crack. He tries to threaten and manipulate Haengseon by showing two faces, making her believe that being with Chiyeol is going to end in heartbreak. He starts cracking even more and resolves that there is no other way of getting Chiyeol back to being his "hero" but to take out the blockage that is Nam Haengseon.

And now we're on Ep 14. I hate this character so much but I love Shin Jaeha is an incredible actor by portraying the duality really well. I didn't suspect him until I saw the theories when I jumped on tumblr late into ep 9.

The unhealthy co-dependency, worshipping a human who is just as lonely and traumatised as him, the projection of a "hero" is all so so so creepy. I can't shake the creepiness. And I can't stand his character. I don't think I even want him to stay alive in this show. I understand that what he went through is really past what can even be called trauma, if you think about it. But any person who resort to murder (or even just doing something evil like the evil moms of this show) and justify that as something they did for the good of another, is something I can't get my head around.

I think, if there is any redemption, it would come from his "hero", Choi Chiyeol, which is actually true to form. He is kind, even though he is lonely and depressed inside. I also think that Nam Haengseon would be a key factor in his redemption because actually, they are both kind who knows how to take care of the people around them.

I'm just hoping no one else dies.

[abimee]

I appreciate you saying that so bad because it really is true how detrimental the obsession with youth is for so many teens (who are so impressable, making it a recipe for disaster) and young adults. Cause as someone who sometimes struggles with that sentiment still for having had BORING teenage years and still being so socially stunted as a young adult having felt for so long I had failed something along the way, making me feel worse abt myself but like... Truthfully, being young is so boring. I'm thankful for older people in my life constantly telling me that really wanting to hurry up so much is pointless - what do we even expect to do?? Stuff that looks cool in movies? I may be a loser for some, I may think I am a loser sometimes, but according to what and who lol. And I'd rather face these things as a mature adult rather than a pressured, impressable teen... Idk. Sorry if this is just rambling really. But it being pointed out makes me feel better and I hope it makes others feel better too. Especially with the loneliness epidemic of right now :(

no absolutely i get it. as someone who so said had an ''interesting'' highshool/teenager years i can safely say that it really sucks trying to cram so much experience into such little years because like

okay the way i see it is trying to make tyour teenage years jam packed with interesting experiences sucks for when you hit adulthood because adulthood is VERY SLOW and BORING as well. youll get to habe more interesting experiences but thats also because you have like 60-70 years and a lot of power in getting to make those experience, while as a teenager you only have like 5 years of this supposed ''golden time'', and then youre just not prepared for how slow and boring adult life is and you get caught up in nostalgia of the ''old days'' and entirely forget how much it fucking sucked to be a teenager because you only remember the glory moments. like ive done so much as a teenager i wish i could nowadays like drink heavily or break into abandoned houses with friends but those high moments often gloss over my memory of how powerless i felt as a teenager with my problems. so like theres nothing good to come of trying to see your teenage years as the most interesting time of your life and that if you didnt make the best of them youre ''boring'' or ''a loser'' because it just doesnt matter to people except for those who peaked in highschool and can only live caught in their past and their former glory.

its so so so so so SO okay to be a slow grower. the idea of needing to get all your experiences out as a teenager is sooooo stupid and theres no timer on anything in your life that dictates it has to happen before X year, thats just the obsession of youth talking and its tootally normal and okay to not have or do things until way later in life. like for me personally i still get caught up with how many people in their 20s are all getting married and i fall down this sinkhole of ''everyone younger than me is MARRIED but i dont EVEN HAVE A GIRLFRIEND'' before remembering that it doesnt matter. it doesnt matter if i get married age 22 or age 62 they dont have goddamn timers on when its acceptable or cool to have your first kiss or get married ITS THE OBSESSION WITH YOUTH TRYING TO KEEP US DOWN FROM. REJOICE IN DOING THINGS SLOWLY AS AN ADULT

[art-of-manliness]

Get Your Son Out of His Bedroom

Everyone has the general sense that people these days get out of the house and do less face-to-face socializing than they used to. The Atlantic’s Derek Thompson recently dove into the data available from the American Time Use Survey to figure out just how large this decline has been. The answer? Very, very large. American men are doing a third less face-to-face socializing than they did twenty years ago. The drop amongst American teenagers is even more staggering: the amount of in-person socializing teens engage in has fallen by almost half since 2003. Think about that for a second: today’s teenagers get together half as much as they did two decades ago.  Today’s teens are not only less likely to leave the house to see friends but to do other things like work, date, or play sports, too. When it comes to the consequences of this trendline for young adults, the discussion typically centers on a rise in loneliness, anxiety, and depression. But there’s another consequence that may be part of this fallout: fewer young men stepping into independent manhood. Since the most primitive age of human history, it’s been observed that males seem to have greater difficulty maturing into adulthood than females. Various theories have been put forth as to why this may be so, from the biological (females receive a more significant signal of maturation in the form of the onset of menstruation) to the psychological (boys must not only differentiate themselves physically, but also in terms of identity, from the female body — the maternal womb — of which they were once a part).  Whatever the cause, boys have typically been given a greater outward nudge towards embracing mature roles and responsibilities. Traditionally, this nudge took the form of rites of passage — a practice common in every age and across every culture in the world.   From time immemorial, boys have felt the tension between two impulses: One, the desire to stay in the safety and comfort of the domestic sphere, taken care of by their mother and free from difficult and dangerous responsibilities; the other, the desire to take risks, to explore, to win honor, to adventure — to take a place in the world of men.  The rite of passage, dictated by their community, compelled young men to overcome the inertia of the first impulse to embrace the second. Today, rites of passage — going to college, traveling the world, participating in a mission trip — are still possible, but the decision to undertake one, rather than being subject to communal forces of shame and honor, is voluntary and individualistic.  This has been the case for a very long time now.  But the ratio between the gravitational pull toward one’s childhood orbit and the attraction to the world beyond its borders has never been more lopsided.  The time teens spend leaving the house and getting together with others really started to dip after 2010, when smartphones began to proliferate. Technology has provided everyone with a simulacrum of the kind of entertainment, conversation, and exploration that formerly could only be accessed by venturing into the outside world. There’s less incentive to leave the house and more enticement to stay at home. When I graduated from high school, I couldn’t wait to go to college and get out on my own. Anecdotally, the young men I know now are less enthusiastic about this transition. And this hesitancy about striking out on their own could have a big impact on their maturation — on their ability to develop the qualities that make for an autonomous, self-reliant, happy adulthood.  In staying within the domestic sphere, the childhood orbit, you’re more protected from the judgments, the risks, the slings and arrows of the wider world — the things that catalyze growth, build strength, and develop character. When you conduct all your communication through a digital device, you can carefully script everything you say instead of engaging in the dangerous dance of improvisation. When your parents are always close by to back you up, you’re never… http://dlvr.it/T3L3jc

[cumbiazevran]

2, 4, 6 for Rowan 😌

HEAVY IS THE CROWN OF KIRKWALL'S COMMIEST JESTER, ORANA PLAY RÁFAGA**

2. a song I associate with my muse’s past

Ribs, Lorde

There's, of course, always a degree of family burden to Hawke, no matter the individual Hawke, but while store bought is fine, we have a whole mad scientist blorbo lab at home, and we're using it.

My Hawkes, or rather, the Aguilar, are moulded after the Latin American experience of forced disappearances and family severances during Dictatorships. Rowan's grandmother was a freedom fighter in Ferelden's war of independence, whose narrative story echoes the Abuelas de la Plaza de Mayo, with the disappearance of her son.

Rowan is, very much a recipient of that history, and there is nothing, nothing more jarring than having to grow up in a place of endless dormant violence that you will have to come to terms with, sooner or later, because you have no choice. Because History is an uninvited guest and it's here anyway, and the door must be answered.

History is a ghost bell reminding you of those truths you're not responsible for, but must bear anyway.

At first glance, Rowan is confident, courageous, witty, a good hearted buffoon with a good-listening pair of ears and very willing helping hands. Rowan was taught by papá to stick for the underdog and for what is right, and to ask questions, and to support each other. Because if you don't go and do it yourself, then who? You can't sit around and wait for salvation to come and the Maker to deliver you your happiness, when there is action you can take to support and love each other, despite the world's violence. We do not put our boot over others, we help others get out from under the boot.

Because when history comes, offer it a glass of wine and some sense of humour. It won't change history, but it'll change you.

Yet, for every action there is a reaction, and this "fuck around and find out" (funny answers only) jester is very much the responsible eldest regardless. The joke deflecting eldest, the wants-to-say-no-but-everyone-keeps-asking-these-big-if-i-fail-kill-me-debts, the beneath all that vigour there is terror, and loneliness, and grief, and the feeling of being lost, and the wish that just for one more time she wants to look back and ask her parents for help.

But they're both gone and Kirkwall is on fire, and the boot is rising up to stomp.

She can't let that happen.

We've all hit that point of adulthood where we realise we're growing. We're having "adult" fun, whatever that means, and we still pull a Barbie 2023 and start thinking about death in the middle of a good time. WHAT SONG IF NOT RIBS

4. a song lyric that describes my muse

A tombstone in your bed / Well my girl eats a wounded preacher / 'Tween two loaves of bread

She's My Man, Scissor sisters

6. a song that makes my muse want to dance

I could make her an entire playlist but aside from anything Ráfaga plays, it's gonna be Comerte Toda by Nene Malo

** Argentinian cumbia band. you have to imagine Rowan lying face down on Hightown's streets, rain falling down, them raising a thumbs up while this band plays in the background

[mosraev]

Lyrics through the decade 10/11

I've decided to collect all the songs I've made through the last decade and share my favourite snippets with you guys. The pictures for the backgrounds will (as much as possible) be pictures I've taken the same year as the lyrics were written. The full lyrics may or may not be made official someday.

Part 10; 2022

Last year was probably my most productive year in that almost all the songs I made I finished and have performed for others. It was also a year full of introspection and changes. The themes is still therapeutic yet outside of gender dysphoria I also explore themes like loneliness, existential dread and loss.

More info under the line

Stay creative, my fellow foxes 🦊💚

Song 1 (pic1); Himlen Falder Ned

Starting out strong with my second ever current affairs/politics/war song this time about Ukraine. It hadn't been a day after learning about the first attack on Ukraine that I felt moved enough to make a song about it.

Featured lyric:

Original: Den due som du skød i nat, det var den hvide due af fred.

Hvad var det ved dens sang der fyldte dit hjerte med had?

Translated to English: The dove you shot tonight is the white dove of peace.

What was it with its song that filled your heart with hatred?

Song2 (pic2); Adulthood

Changes gears completely this is a song I wrote in May about feeling quite bad at being an adult - so of course it is played on a ukulele as a cherry on top. Jokes aside this silly little song was actually quite therapeutic as well letting me know it is okay to be a mess of a human.

Featured lyric:

How can I call myself an adult?

I'm barely holding on.

Song3 (pic3); Golden

This song was the first I wrote on my new guitar that has a golden colour so I knew it would be a song called Golden. What I didn't know at the time was how full of existential dread the lyrics would be. It is pretty much a song about feeling left behind by your peers after being told your whole life you are the golden/gifted child. It is one of the few songs featured here I actually haven't payed for others yet.

Featured lyric:

In the light that's our world burning we look golden now.

Song4 (pic 4); I Am Here

In June I wrote this song about my experience with gender. I'd challenged myself to only use four or less words for the chorus. I really like the nerve this song ended up having so it is probably the one song about my gender experience I feel best fit (so far).

Featured lyric:

((Extended)) I'm a liar, impostor, the list goes on.

I failed to be a daughter, and I'll fail to be a son.

Song5 (pic5); Ensomhedens Ven

My summer camp song this year - it was created through another challenge where I was challenged to personify a concept so I chose loneliness and gave them an arch from seeking a friend, finding one and changing into another being (loneliness becomes immersion). Silly on the surface yet I hope a bit deep when you look into it.

Featured lyric:

Original: Ensomhed hedder nu fordybelsestid - tid til at finde sig selv.

Translated to English: Loneliness is now called immersion - time to find yourself.

Song6 (pic6); What's In A Name?

After summer camp I was visiting my mother's house staying in a room filled with old stuff of mine with my deadname on it so I wrote this song as a song to come to terms with my experience and my parents' experience of my name change. Another song I haven't played for people yet.

Featured lyric: You put your memories into a six-letter frame

that no longer describes me, so remind me:

What's in a name?

Song7 (pic7); Don't Call Me She

This song was born after an unfortunate experience at summer camp when my choir leader gave me strong dysphoria pretty much calling me a woman to my face. I ran to the bathroom crying and wrote the first verse. The rest of the song was finished a month later, and it is a song about how words can hurt as a trans person. You can listen to the song here.

Featured lyric: These words hurt like tiny knives programmed to act on voice cue.

Song8 (pic8); Little Red Bird

This song is about the loss of losing my grandmother. She died around the time the season 3 premiere of the Owl House was airing so my mind blended her loss and (spoilers) Flapjack's together. I later learned that cardinals are said to be souls of deceased loved ones visiting you so it fit. Also my grandmother wanted me to promise not to get a tattoo yet my first tattoo became a tribute to her; a Flapjack on my arm.

Featured lyric: I have to break a promise, I never fully made.

Because I see you in the little red bird, and I don't want to forget you.