#after i non stop kept rambling about how i was deeply afraid of fucking up socially because i dont understamd what the rules are

[freyfall]

i've been thinking about honesty and awareness a lot over the past... year, year and a half? what you can expect people to tell you, what you can ask, what you have to trust. what you have to look for, what people have to tell you, when it's time to listen and when it's time to stop. how does intention change things? does it at all?

it feels like the world is built on half truths and lies and implications and things felt but not said and the more and more I think about it the more and more it hurts me to think about how people communicate like that. where is your sense of good faith. where is your trust. and the more I get blindsided by people who behave that way around me the more distrustful I become over whether or not people mean what they say and it just becomes paranoia.

anyways I opened this post to talk about how I'm coming to terms with being autistic after my therapist Broke The News To Me and how it affects my communication and my sheer mountains of rsd/paranoia. and I just think I'm upset because I don't speak the same brain language as 95% of people I know and it's isolating and scary to be so afraid of people

[teenyweenynightghost]

Måneskin Group Chat- Chapter 5

(Ok so I will be a decent human being and give y’all a bit more of a warning. So when I wrote the angsty plot last night i was feeling dramatic so now i have to listen to sad music so i can get in the mood for writing what i hope will be the last non-text chapter. Anyway, once this is posted my writing is no longer my problem so be cautious)

Warnings: my writing, language

“Ethan”

His name echoed in my head over and over again, a beautiful song with no end, an orchestra made of nature’s most delicate creatures. The sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling as the wind softly blows them all around...that’s what hearing and saying his name felt like. As if the sun suddenly peeked through an endless sea of stormy clouds. Everything began warming up, all doubts and worries left my mind, as if on instinct, so that it can be filled with the one thing that truly healed it, the one thing that truly healed my soul- my darling Ethan.

“Y/N?” Damiano asked from the drivers seat, again, and thus succeeding at making me stop thinking about Ethan, for a second time. I was close to killing him.

“What is it” I asked sharply. “We’re home” he responded, with a soft look on his face.

Oh. Shit.

Now this was very much not a fairytale anymore and the peaceful sound of birds chirping turned into an irritating non-stop alarm that scratched my ears. Focusing on all of the things that bothered me, I forgot to get out of the car, thus having Thomas slowly picking me up and putting me on the alley-way.

“You know what I realised” I said, softly looking at the sky.

“You’re in love with Ethan?” asked Victoria with a cheeky expression on her face

“What? No Im not Ethan is my best friend and I do- O MY FUCKING GOD” My face fell at the sudden realisation . Behind me i could hear three people losing their shit laughing. The world was spinning under me and the corners of my eyes turned black.

“Holy Fuck Victoria why the fuck didn’t you tell me earlier you dumbass YOU LEFT ME ALONE!” I kept on rambling trying to find an excuse for being in this overwhelming nerve-wrecking minefield of an emotion. Meanwhile, I am pretty sure I heard Damiano trying to help Thomas up, after he inevitably fell down from laughing too hard. At me.

A sudden wave of embarrassment rushed over me. “What the fuck guys! First you kidnapp me, then you tell me i love Ethan and now you’re laughing at me!?

Vic wiped a tear and tried to answer through giggles “Im sorry cucciola but the way you reacted to it all is just hilarious! I mean it literally is like that audio on tik tok with the piano song- at first its soft and peaceful, just like you were in the car ride here, and then the realisation hit, and, in perfect sync with the music you realised the clownery of it all!

I heard a howling laughter coming from behind me. I turned to see Damiano on his knees, choking and struggling to breathe, as he was cackling even harder than before. “Shut up” I muttered quickly and went inside. 

I quickly made my way up the creaky stairs and ran to the bathroom. I slammed the door shut and let my emotions overwhelm me. My night had gone horribly wrong. I was right. I knew I wasn’t made for these things. God, what was my poor date even thinking. What was I thinking? Was I really in love with Ethan?

I kept sobbing and shaking until I heard a light knock on the door. I tried to wipe away my face quickly but it was too late. In a moment I had Ethan’s strong arms wrapped around me, bringing me the comfort i so badly wanted. “Shh, princess, it’s alright. You don’t have to think about anything right now” He had no idea how much those words meant to me. No idea how much he meant to me. I snuggled my face in the crook of his neck, as he shifted his weight so that we could both sit comfortably. He started humming lightly, and his vibrations only soothed me further. His fingers started playing with my hair, before going to my shoulders and massaging them lightly. I slowly closed my eyes, and noticed how I had unconsciously matched my breathing with his. He smelt like sandalwood and a dark stormy day, a scent which for years comforted me deeply. I slowly started feeling his muscles flexing as he picked me up and took me to his bedroom. He laid me down on the mattress and got right behind me. He helped take off my clothes and did the same with his. All we were now was a tangled mess of limbs.

I started becoming incredibly aware of everything. His breath on my neck, his calloused hands sliding up and down my bare back, barely even grazing it. I shivered and his eyed immediately met mine. “Are you cold, cara mia?” “No, don’t worry about it.” I snuggled into him even further, and soon there was nothing between us. Not even air.

For the first time that night, I felt at peace. As if nothing was in its wrong place, as if i wasn’t doing something bad or that I would regret. I knew what Victoria had said, and I just couldn’t wait any longer. Thinking back to all the moments Ethan had tried to express his emotions to me- offering me a warm cup of coffee every morning, offering to take care of my goats, despite being quite furious with my purchase initially. His actions spoke louder than his words. As if on cue, he tightened his arms around my waist and left a chaste kiss on my neck.

“Ethan” i muttered half-asleep. “Yes darling” His eyes were closed, no frown on his face and all of his muscled relaxed. He looked so at peace, so young. I smiled slightly and brought my forehead to his. Our noses touched, and thats when he opened his eyes too. I was met with his sleepy but affectionate gaze, dark and striking, reading all of my secrets.

“What were you going to say cucciola?” His eyes never once left mine, only gently bringing me back to reality. I smiled and brushed a hair strand behind his ears. “I’m in love with you.” His eyes widened. He scanned my face to see if he heard me right and i only smiled to reaffirm my words. His lips were instantly in mine, capturing them in what felt like the most passionate kiss I ever had. We moved in sync as he brought his hands up to cup my face, and I couldn’t help but smile. We pulled apart, no longer being able to breathe, but staying so close we could hear each other’s heartbeat. “ I’m in love with you as well”. He kissed me once more, then pulled me back into his arms. He brushed my hair again and with that, we both drifted to sleep.

                                                   -------------

I was awoken by a few light beams filtering through the curtains. Behind me, I felt someone breath evenly as their arms held me close. My mind wandered back to the events of last night. We were off to a rocky start, but it was all forgiven once I came home to him.

Y/n tried to turn softly so that she wouldn’t wake Ethan up. Now facing him, she couldn’t help but admire his soft features. She left a few soft kisses on his cheek, before lightly brushing her lips with him. At that, the boy in front of her opened his eyes, and smiled brightly. He cupped her cheek and brought their faces together, kissing her once more.

The pair stayed cuddled like this for a few more minutes before heading downstairs. Y/n approached the coffee machine and turned it on, while Ethan took some leftover patisserie from yesterday. After all of the food was on the table, Y/n went to sit down, only to be interrupted by Ethans grunt. He took a seat on one of the chairs and beckoned her to come closer. “C’mere amore”. Y/n did as she was told and went to sit on his lap. They ate together in silence, listening to the soft tunes playing on the radio.

Out of nowhere, they heard some giggling. They both turned around and saw three heads peeking from the staircase. Y/n rolled her eyes and sighed gravely, earning a chuckle from Ethan. The three musketeers who created so much chaos the previous night, emerged from their poor hiding spot singing Italy’s National Anthem.

Y/N scoffed at that and Ethan smirked. “So, who finally confessed” asked Victoria cheekily. “We both did, but Ethans came second” Y/n said proudly. Now it was Ethan’s turn to scoff. Thomas, who was still pissed that he had been woken up so early stole the remaining croissant out of Y/Ns plate and ate it in one bite. The rest of the band sat down and enjoyed some coffee too, as Y/Ns goats kept bugging the poor guitarist.

“Well, Im glad the issue between you two has been fixed. I was starting to choke on all that tension” said Damiano out of nowhere.

“Ha ah very funny” answered Ethan, his face completely blank. Y’N turned around and kissed him once more, to keep Damiano on Ethan’s good side.

The rest of their day was similar. Soft touches, random glances filled with love, kissed in between the bands’ practice sessions...

Truth be told, no one was happier than the two lovers who no longer kept their feelings hidden under the mask of friendship. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Omg so I was listening to some classical music and just as I was getting to the mushy parts it started playing a circus theme omg the universe is talking to me and im afraid its not good.

Anyway i hope you liked it, i will definitely continue chapter 6 as being chaotic and sarcastic, however , if yall want to, i could possibly write some blurbs with ethan x reader.

Until then, y’all can wait until the next chapter cuz its seven am and i have a long and empty day ahead of me 

[hannie-dul-set]

hello its me again !! yesterday I told you I followed u bc of your love for jaemin and your funny humour but today I want to add something else, and thaTS YOUR AMAZING WRITING SKILLS !!

i just finished reading the masterpiece that is Top of the world and I'm so shaken up by the excellence of the rich vocabulary, the sentence structure and just the way you wrote the various events that happened. I'm such at a lost of words to express what I feel you have no ideas, I will never recover from the high quality of this story. it couldn't have been better than that what you delivered and I'm just so so relieved to have been able to live this amazing experience of reading such an outstanding story. I'm sorry maybe you're thinking im showering you in too much compliments but you deserves to be praised for having written Top of the world.

I will always be amazed with how people who write are able to wrote down their imagination and wow, im still shaking like.. Im so impressed by you you have no ideas 🙈

moving on, this is the first time ever since I'm reading nct fics on tumblr that I came across this characterization of jaemin, and it is a real take of fresh air in the best way possible even tho he's really such an asshole like wow the popularity did go too high in his head I was so scandalized (in a good way lmao it made me amazed) with how an ass he was and like the way he ordered around jisung ???? djjdjffjhf I- I wanted to punch jaemin so hard 😤 I wanted to dive into the story and beat his ass lmaooo im sure you too, like I was rolling around in my bed bc I couldn't stay still and laying down without reacting ㅠㅠ

I dont know at what length of words the ask can tolerate but let me tell you something before I forgot ! I realized that every situations/events you wrote had a purpose, like you didn't wrote basic actions that we would pass over without much attention, and bc of that you held our attention during the 15.6k of words and it was so much overwhelming I couldn't stop reading just to breathe lol, you kept me going for so long and I really liked it im so sad that I lived this experience and I couldn't live it again *sobs* this is so revolting I want to pat your head you did so so well 🥺

alsooooo, when you introduced yn's character in the beginning, I was kinda afraid that he would bully her physically you know, like I couldn't imagining you daring to write him being more than despicable than he was but thanks god that wasn't what I imagined fjdjfj, the way he exercised his 'dominance' towards someone he didn't know just for a seat lmao, wow he got some real balls ?¿ I was scandalized a lot fjjfjffj but I was curious too about jeno's character in the story, he was so chill (I think?) about yn's being involved with jaemin from the start and I was expecting him to be an asshole to her just like jaem, u know ? could we know your motives about jeno's character in the story ? why didn't you wrote him like jaemin?

I will speed up a little fjfjj or else I will write you 6 pages of my thoughts lmao

but yeah !! so, I really liked the contrast between how we perceived yn's outside facade and inside, like when he make her kneels in front of him, you made us look at her from jaemin's view and how she looked not so bothered by his behavior and then you switched the second after into yn's point of view and how she tried to not show her emotions... *mind blowing* 🤯 not gonna lie, I was rotting for her to not let him mess with her head but instead her doing that to him and it kinda worked fjfjfjf and then I knew the moment he was surprised about the non effect he had on her that it was the start of his fall anD I WASN'T A SECOND DISAPPOINTED

I FUCKING LOVED THE BLOSSOMING REALTIONSHIP BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM anD the slight graduation of jaemin's becoming soft to her oh my god I had hearts in my eyes. I loved every moments of this story (I loved the entire 15.6k words of it, I cherished them), but the pool scene toward the end made me go feral for a lot of minutes like the picture you implanted in my head of him in the water made me post all my thoughts (also blonde jaemin? as in, make a wish jaemin?, god I hope bc fucking damn, he was so so so hot)

I was so emotional at the end, they got together and just, being the witness of jaemin's character development was breathtaking, I couldn't stop thinking about how smooth you made it for his character development during all the story, it wasn't forced or too quick...

It was perfect

omg.... [CLUTCHES HEART]. help oh my god first of all thank you ??? for leaving such a LONG long review omg ???? made my entire day ?? week ??? HQGSBWJ IN SUMMARY THANK U AND I LOVE U FOR THIS AAAA i really appreciate it when people just ramble abt my works it just makes my drive go ⬆⬆⬆ yanno HHHH.

when i was first writing this is was like "oh gosh....is it....okay to turn jaemin this much of a dick?? IS IT??" like i was so SURE people wouldn't like this characterization of him but i literally got the reverse 😭 never expected anyone to jump with me on my asshole richkid jaemin agenda bUT HERE WE ARE....IT BEING MY MOST POPULAR FIC YET HAHSJ. i both hate and love this kind of jaemin and yes i definitely wanted to drag him down from his high horse while writing (at the same time....i will let him drag me around as he pleases too 😳).

i'm very gratified that u think its cohesive and each scene has a purpose because to be honest i didn't fuckin know where to go with this entire fic at first LMAO i was just in a richkid jaem brainrot after talking abt it too much with my friend and this was....the result 🕴.

as for jeno oh mr. jeno lee....HAGSNSK to be honest, as this fic wasn't rlly that deeply planned HAHA, i just wanted a contrast to jaemin's personality LMAO if he had the same personality as jaems....insanely egotistical god complex and all.....i think this would have turned out to be a love triangle AHAHS GM SKW. bUT— but hehe. i have another richkid fic in the dusty corners of my google docs rn. a 00’ line fic in fact HAHA so totw jaemin and jeno will be making a comeback here (ofc this is an entirely different universe but their characterizations are essentially the same HEHEHEHEHEH).

anyway !! thank u so much for sharing ur thoughts on totw ;o; 💞 this rlly made my day no joke HAHA i'm so happy to hear you liked this aaaaa. and yes. maw jaemin was the cause of all of this. something snapped in him during that era and led me to write this very self indulgent fic. thank u HAGHSKA.

[livingfictionsystem]

August 4th-5th, 2020.

I’d been out at the new apartment, trying to get my power sorted, when I saw the texts that made my stomach drop. Shaking, I rang Asra. Asra had been appalled before when I’d spoken about the dog-piling three or four against one that had been done to me before, and told me to call them if the household ever tried to pull this again. In fact, they said they would drive here and protect me, if need be. “I’m scared to go home,” I’d blurted.

I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t be harassed until my mind went blank and I was forced to apologise and beg for any sort of mercy.

Asra called Arkady, then called me back. “Hey, he’s upset, but he says he’s going to try not to yell at you. I spoke to Ash and they said they would try to rein him in a bit. It’s just one talk, then you all can move into different apartments and try to cool down for a while.”

I stared. There was a storm brewing overhead. A plastic bag did cartwheels in front of me as the wind whipped around my tense body. Somehow, a situation that was ‘unacceptable’ months before was turned into, ‘The household gets a little yell at Xanthe. As a treat.’

I shivered.

I’d tried to take a break away from Facebook for a few weeks. It was my most accurate mirror I could find, and it was becoming depressing to look at. I hadn’t reached out to many. And now, even someone who knew about the situation was fine with me being the sacrificial lamb for this crowd to get their pound of flesh.

The existential crisis that had been in my mind like a powder keg kept weighing on me. I remember I had theorized that perhaps if all of my friends were Neb’s characters, I likely was too. But why did she create me? What was I based off of?

Spoiler alert: As I’d said before, Neb was heavily into Black Butler and The Infernal Devices series at the time of my creation. But in this state, I was horrified by the coincidence that April had had a British blonde boyfriend by the name of Dante. What if she based me off that boy?

Vex would point out later on that I met April before even hearing of Dante. But this thought was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It’s what drove me over the edge. I’d tried to soothe my brain with wine, but it was practically screaming with an entire existential crisis and I couldn’t shut it up.

I booted up my laptop, went on Facebook Live. My laptop has an issue where it doesn’t like to let me filter down my audience the first time around, so at first I tried to go into my private FB group for mental illness, called Coping.

I actually don’t remember what I said on that one. I just knew that my audience wasn’t big enough. No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. I felt crazy, didn’t know who was real and who wasn’t, I’d been isolated far too long– fuck it, I’d just go public. I was too tired of screaming in my own head not to need a least a classroom’s worth of people around me.

As I was waiting for the broadcast to go through, I couldn’t help but notice I wasn’t alone in my room. Xhaxhollari, who I’d pointedly ignored these past couple of months, was seated on my bed. His wings were folded and he regarded me with a stony expression. Vex was seated on the floor, at the foot of my desk. “Good. You need witnesses,” Vex murmured, with a side-eye to the door.

I shook my head at her and opened my phone. Another text from Arkady. “You forgot to mention Gaslamp,” it said.

Oh, yes. The pack mentality that I gave a name. It reminded me so much of my ex that I thought she was following me. As it turned out, my housemate actually went to her. I was right about everything except the magic portion. I wasn’t trying to start with that, but–

“I need this to end somehow,” I whispered. “I can’t take any more of this.”

“You must endure.” Xhaxhollari, unlike Vex, made no effort to keep his voice down. “It’s clear there is something wrong. What if it targets Arkady next? You know he can’t survive this.”

I chewed on the ends of my fingers. “Even if we’re right, there’s nothing I can do if everyone hates me. And why am I still seeing Mx. Be Not Afraid over there? I integrated that angel!”

Yet that fucker was still over my shoulder, smirking, living its best life without going dormant.

I glanced at the broadcast as footsteps approached. It hadn’t started yet. Did I forget to push a button? Vex fiddled with the mouse a bit, crouching between myself and the door. I think I was already talking at this point– discussing the odd instances where Arkady had yelled at me and hadn’t seemed to remember it, how the house seemed obsessed with accommodating and defending certain people and mistreating others, how they weren’t like this before they met March–

I don’t remember if he knocked or not, but suddenly, Arkady. “Xanthe, come here. We’re having this talk. Now.”

Vex shook her head.

“I don’t want to.” I replied. “And I’m not even sober.”

“When are you sober, Xanthe?”

Ever not pay attention and have autism just auto-fill your next reply? Because uh. “Before 7pm.” A little rule I’d invented for myself. I was so proud.

“Mm. Yes, nice snark, there.”

“I was being literal.”

“I can tell the difference between your literal tone and your snark. Come downstairs, we’re talking.” His voice was icy cold, lacking in any sort of warmth and compassion. It used to sing me to sleep. It used to give me enough ‘I love you’s’ to last the weekend. It used to tell me about how it couldn’t live without me. It used to be my favourite song. And now it just sounded like an angry, violent stranger. He used to know me, and now he couldn’t even tell my tones apart.

“I don’t want to.”

Again, my memory blurs. I still have video proof on my FB, but trauma has made it difficult to bring it up again. I think it was full of him trying to get me into another intervention and myself refusing. I think it’s at this point where he told me, “We’re having this talk or I’m telling all of your Facebook followers when your birthday actually is.”

“You’re blackmailing me?” My voice sounded wooden. Vex narrowed her eyes, then looked at me in alarm. Something was going through its death-throes in my soul, and it wasn’t me. I thought it had been, for months. It’d been dying since the month of March. I had thought it was me, I felt it so keenly. Maybe this night would finally kill me. I would disappear into this brain as Neb did, finally be at peace. But at this blackmail, I felt a brief pain, as if the mortal blow had just landed, then… nothing. I felt an odd sort of detachment, as if the world around me were a nightmare.

He said some sort of reply. But I turned to my broadcast. I never could behave well enough to be properly blackmailed. “Yes, my body was born on August 25th, 1993. I’ve never used that birthday because I felt like a walk-in soul. I’ve only had this body since about 2013.” In the background, Arkady was screaming ‘Lies, lies, LIES!’ through the door. I continued on. “I don’t know what’s going on. There’s a lot of friends that I’ve had that are apparently fictional, like me, and I don’t know what’s real or not.” I rambled afterwards. I rambled about my paranoia over Zara, how everyone seemed offended that I didn’t want company over for half of each week with no notice and leaving a sprinkling of empty energy drink cans and a cloud of weed scent wherever she staggered. I discussed how toxic March was when he first moved in, about how he seemed to turn Ash from someone who cared deeply for Arkady to someone that would rather have sex with March for eight hours. Whoever just died in me, it was like I was breathlessly telling their tale of betrayal and how they met their fate.

At this point, Arkady was screaming, ‘Asra says to get off Live! Get off Live! Get off Live! Get off Live RIGHT now.’ He kept screaming. What would happen if I got off Live? What would he do?

I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to express that I didn’t know. He was still screaming.

I went non-verbal. I didn’t know how to make it stop.

I picked up some sort of holiday card, flipped it to the blank side, and wrote the only phrase I could express, and held it up for the camera.

I’M SCARED

He finally left. A friend, who had witnessed the exchange, texted me an offer to pick me up for the night, just to make me feel safe. Which, I decided was probably for the best, as Arkady was shouting, “Are you FUCKING kidding me?” downstairs.

Vex gathered a bag for me. In low tones, she coached me on where everyone in the house was, informing me I had a clear path to the cars outside. Together, we ran outside.

I vaguely remember hugging my friend’s friend. “You didn’t even seem to be talking shit?” She reassured me. “You just seemed to be… venting.” I remember shakily rambling about how it’d gone too far this time, stunned that this had even happened. The rest of the night occurred in a disassociated blur. I’d rescued my box of Franzia, intending to nurse that for the rest of the night. Upon noting this, my friend joked that I was a ‘high-functioning alcoholic.’ And you know, after six months of balancing on eggshells, it wasn’t far from exaggerative.

My friend received a text from March, detailing either lies or things the rest of the household used to endorse. He even mocked me for thinking Oscar Wilde may have been a past life. Which, was not only something that Arkady had suggested, but something March’s toxic ex had already went for. Funny, how one can become one’s worst enemy. Everything else had been a lie.

(So, addressing those one at a time… I never said March was possessed by a demon. I said that he had a cult-like effect about him, that reminded me of my ex, April, that made people seem to act possessed in their hyper-defense of him. And yes, I think my past-life is Oscar Wilde. I’m spiritual, and Wilde and I have gone through a lot of the same things. He just happens to be a Libra. It was actually Arkady who had told me that Oscar was a past life. Everyone else in the house endorsed it– Oscar would later become an ‘introject’ alter. Only one other person has used my past-life belief against me, and it’s someone who March calls abusive. I assume he’s too dim to catch the irony, there. Arkady and I hadn’t broken up yet. He dumped me in July. I posted those photos, likely about a dozen of them, in early June. They were still fond memories, and I didn’t feel like taking them down yet. Arkady had told me I was allowed to tell him ‘I love you’ in different ways. ‘On Vis Och’ was a line in a book that meant, ‘A good end and a new beginning.’ I hadn’t realised it made him uncomfortable, and stopped once I realised it had. I didn’t write handwritten notes to him in his room. I left them for Visarden, his alter? Past-life? Who told me our relationship was still there. About me using wine to loosen him up– Never happened. That’s not even a misunderstanding, it’s a goddamned lie. Once, Arkady had told me that I just ‘needed to buy him wine’ to get him in the mood. I didn’t take him up on that offer, but would occasionally do so as a gift, when I would stock up on my own supply. He also didn’t come out as grey ace until after we’d stopped sleeping together.)

(“I’m done speaking out against Xanthe” is probably the funniest joke March has ever told. Note that he wasn’t warning my friend. That abusive ex? Yes, was a prick. He tried to make me seem crazy by mocking my past-life. Sound familiar? It should.)

My friend offered me a stim toy and I slept a nice, drunken sleep on their apartment couch that night. The next day, I was still disassociated. I felt mostly numb and detached from reality. I kept having to ask my friend to repeat conversations. Especially after a text I’d gotten from Asra, saying I was cut off from them for publicly complaining about the round after round of hen-pecking. They took me to a walk around the river, helped me pick up some of AJ’s things they’d sent via the train. Then it was time to go back. My friend only lived in a shared apartment with a roommate, after all. And I hadn’t brought enough to stay extra days.

I updated a status, clarifying that Arkady was not beating me, and likely never would. I made the Lives private. I genuinely did not want anyone harassing him.

My plan was simple. Run in, lay AJ’s things in the public space, then go to my room. I would spend the next two weeks until my move-in date avoiding my housemates, packing, and minding my own business. They had other plans.

I came back to all doors locked. My house key could never undo the deadbolts, so I had to call Ash.

Then they confronted me. The very scenario I had been trying to avoid, but this time, they had more ammunition. They’d read my journals in my absence, leafing through them as if they had been studying for a test. This was the second offense of reading my journals. The first, being much more mild, something they said they regretted.

I have to say, I disassociated through a lot of the discussion. I was apparently talking, apologising, say that I meant my apology. I remember only snippets.

Apparently, Arkady was meant to stay away from the conversation, but came back up. “No, I’m not even scared.” He said, taking in my shaking form in the doorway. “This is just funny to me. This is like a soap opera, it’s just funny now. No, I want to watch.”

Me, falling into his arms out of the moving van. Dancing in the rain. Him comforting me after a nightmare. Him, in a rage, after my mother threatened to abandon me through top surgery. He, who sang me a sweet song of mourning after my bird had died. He, who taught me how to cry after so long not knowing how. It had to have been a different person who thought my fear was funny.

“You said you wanted us to help each other heal!” Arkady went on, in a tone filled with such disgust that one would think I’d confessed to drugging his cat for fun. “Is that how you see me? Is that what you think I’m for?”

“It’s just a joke. “Xhax’s voice was clear in my head, high in wonderment.

It was then March’s turn to throw something at me. “After I had gotten fired from Lori’s, you said that you fell asleep with a smile on your face and a song in your heart!”

Actually, I thought, that was after you’d freaked out that you mispronounced the word ‘ambivalent‘ and made it a Whole episode.

“These people aren’t interested in facts. It’s the narrative they want.” I glanced at Xhaxhollari. Clearly, the household couldn’t see him.

I just said I was sorry. The words were hollow on my tongue. There was an expectation that they should be otherwise, but I’m not sure how any of the four of us reached that conclusion. I was also aware that they were giving me two days to find other arrangements. I’d had nowhere else to go, but that clearly wasn’t their problem.

“You can get a hotel,” Arkady informed me icily.

“For two weeks?” Sure, I had a discount through Hilton, but it was based on availability. And they all decided to do this just as RIT students were coming through and looking to quarantine.

Obviously, I was lying about something. Arkady seemed sure of it. “You told me,” Arkady began, spitting the words like an accusation. I think he may have even been pointing at me. “That you got a discount from Hilton that would make any reservation 35 a night! It would be less than six hundred dollars. You can do that.”

I think I just stared at him for that. Even if I were to open my app and show him, he’d likely never be convinced. He had his narrative, what more did he need?

Then there was a barrage of how I’d ‘brought Gaslamp into the house.’ “No. My ex made me believe that. I shouldn’t have passed it onto the rest of you, but I was fooled too. I’m sorry I was the first.” I actually can’t picture my tone here. Was I even the one speaking? I don’t know. I only know I said that last part because March repeated it mockingly back at me.

“‘Oh, I’m sorry I was the first!'” March would make a bad actor. I’d always thought that. I was suddenly caught on the airy, patronizing quality of his voice. He really only had one tone of voice, and I could only describe it as a ‘Your bra-strap is showing’ sort of tone. “See, they’re just making themselves into a victim again! You’re doing it again, Xanthe, and we’re wise to all of your manipulation. And apparently you thought that I put Ash into a ‘Hostage situation’ by threatening to kill myself over the phone for hours when they were on vacation? I was having a breakdown, Xanthe!”

“Your pain is a joke. Your privacy is a joke. A soap opera.” I didn’t see Xhaxhollari’s point just then, but he was still talking at my side. His voice sounded calm, but his wings were arched and tense.

I remember them surrounding me and repeating again and again, as if chanting that I was the abuser was enough to overwrite my memories saying otherwise. They may as well try again, it’d worked before. It was this odd narrative that everything that March had ever done could never be abuse. He had a break down, he had a PTSD flashback, he needed help, and I heartlessly labeled his actions abusive. Meanwhile, my own PTSD was manipulation, my breakdowns were abuse, and who needs support when they could just tell me over and over again that I’m awful?

Ash spoke up, finally. “I ‘think I’m an Unseelie king’? Why did you tell Asra that, other than to damage my relationship with them?”

March chimed in. “Yeah, you have to stop talking about our worlds, Xanthe!”

I winced. I actually did feel real shame over that. I probably would’ve felt more if my conversation in confidence hadn’t been shared. But how else to reach out about the fact that these people assured me that my friends were real? For what reason? Their own validation?

Why were they so intent on suddenly dismissing a reality they’d once endorsed?

March was still talking. “And I have PTSD, too, Xanthe. C-PTSD, in fact!”

“Your enemy is a joke.” Xhax continued.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. March’s voice sounded just so pompous. My voice carried on, distantly. I couldn’t tell what it was doing. The last twenty minutes of that conversation are lost to me. In fact, most of that night is lost to me. I know I didn’t drink any more wine.

I remember calling Cotton. I remember calling Kaspar. I remember texting my father. Cotton reassured me that he’d known me for much longer than my household, and had never considered me manipulative. He’d been there for April’s fake possession, her fake seizures, her faked blindness. Kaspar, who was distressed at having known none of this prior to that night, saying how these people wouldn’t stand a chance if I had manipulated them. My dad, saying how my housemates were in the wrong for having read my journals again.

Again.

Again.

It was sinking in.

They’d done it again.

The quotes they’d used, it was all from my journals. More than one. That thought seemed to bleed through in my sleep, to the point where the violation was all that was on my mind the day aft.

It’d turned to daylight. I posted to Facebook, filtering out the cult that’d formed under my roof, “They went through my fucking journals.”

Not even a half hour later, March was outside my door. “We see you playing the victim, Xanthe. You tried to hide from Ash, but it didn’t work. Also, Asra knows how you really now. We told them everything.”

I was frozen in my room. Vex, who had refused to leave my side since last night, cursed under her breath, and began to pack a bag. “If they really knew everything, then what are they doing standing for this shit?” She growled.

Good question.

March, who claimed not to be the problem but was very much proving to be the instigator, continued to gripe to Ash. “They apologise to our face but then go behind our backs to bitch to Facebook! Apparently, this is all our faults! First they blame Zara, then Seven, and now me again!”

March was playing music from his room, blasting petty break-up songs and what seemed to be Onision’s breakdown. (I think they were attempting to make some sort of comparison?)

My therapist was on the phone with me in what seemed like minutes later. I only remember one part of that conversation. “They went through your fucking journals, Xanthe! And used it against you! You can’t stay another night in that house! Who cares if your friends are real? If they’re not the ones mistreating you, call them!”

Vex was very pointedly packing my journals into my suitcase. I reached for my pendant– it symbolized my heart, but it’d broken earlier this year. I hadn’t yet fixed it; it seemed odd to me to pretend that my heart wasn’t broken.

Xhax’s hand covered mine as I reached for the watch. “Not yet. You need protection, not your heart. Your heart is what’s gotten you into this mess.” He slid my clockwork angel pendant into my palm.

It was from the Infernal Devices series. Ithuriel, the angel, was trapped in a clockwork pendant the protagonist always wore. It was meant to protect her. I’d bought it recently to feel safe.

I stared at him. “I thought you were wanting me to sacrifice myself to save Arkady?”

He shook his head. “You did what you could. He just isn’t there right now. Any more selfless, you won’t have any more self left to lose.”

I slipped the pendant over my head, made my reservation for Collegetown’s Hilton, then fled. When I got to my room, I collapsed on my bed, wanting to sob and–

Just as before I’d met Arkady… no tears came.

I was fictional again.

[blueboxshenanigans11]

Lost Pieces

Ten x Reader

Request: Anon: Hey, I was wondering if you could do a 10th doctor imagine with prompts 4, 13 and 14 with angst and a happy ending?

Here you are anon! So, so, so, SO sorry this is so late. I just finished the quarter so I’m doing some heavy catch up. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for your patience, it is more than much appreciated! Xoxo

Title:Lost Pieces

Word Count: 2,551

You walked at your usual brisk pace as the sun’s rays tickled your exposed skin on your face, arms, and legs. The smell of fresh cut grass dancing through the air as it hit your nostrils, and the familiar sound of some kids riding past on their bikes. It felt good to be outside and walking down the familiar streets of your hometown, smiling to those who gave you a wave or greeted you. You had almost let summer pass you by without even thinking about going outside, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying yourself.

You had been going through a rough patch to say the least. Ever since the Doctor and you had parted ways earlier that year, you had been struggling to maintain a regular routine. Your family who only consisted of your younger sister lived an ocean away and didn’t really know the extent of how or why you were such a hermit, and your friend group believed you when you told them you were just really into your work. In all actuality you had been hurt so deeply, it was debilitating. You wondered if that was how all break ups and endings were for other people, but you couldn’t fathom that the “normal” times it happens that it involved an alien who took you on amazing adventures through time and space. No. You needed the time you did to feel better, and now you were finally able to start moving on.

You had been out and about walking for quite a while. Went to a couple of shops and bought some groceries, a few new books, and a new cat toy for your cat, Paul. You giggled as you thought about your big, lazy orange cat, who had the most human name you could think of. He was probably staring out the window waiting for you to get home, or the wall depending what mood he was in. You turned onto the last corner to start walking down your street where you could see your flat right up the way. The familiar white bricks, with dark brown trimmings around the windows and door frame were too bold not to notice.

As you put your bags down to attempt to find your keys in your purse, the feeling of being watched slowly crept upon you. Your usual quick movements grew slower and slower as your ears began to ring, and the wind gave you a shiver. As you got your house key into the lock and the door opened, you turned around to look out past your yard into the street. The only things to greet you were the trees dancing in the wind, a few parked cars, and several different people going about their day not minding you whatsoever. You took a peak down the sides of your road which didn’t indicate much more than when you looked straight ahead as you picked your bags back up off your stoop. You finally decided it was just you watching too many ghost hunting shows as you shrugged off the eerie mood, and walked into the threshold of your home.

“Paulie!” You cooed as you placed your bags on your dining room table and began to look for the new treats you picked up for him. You looked over to where he usually sat if you were out, but he didn’t happen to be there. Next you had tried the bathroom, where he usually liked to sit by the heater but there was no sight of him.  When you checked the final place you would think he would be before it became really unusual, yet he was still nowhere to be seen. “Paul!” You called out, now starting to look in non-familiar places around your flat. “Did someone come in and steal my fucking cat?” You asked out loud as you sat up from looking under your couch.

You were really starting to worry that something happened to him when a revelation hit you: “My book nook! That little shit.” You exclaimed, making your way to your little book room that used to be a half bedroom. Paul wasn’t supposed to be in there unless you allowed him to come cuddle with you on your big reading chair, mostly because he would try to knock down every book on your shelves. As you scurried down the hallway expecting to catch him in the act, your heart quickened in pace seeing that you had indeed forgotten to close the door all the way. “Shit, shit, shit, shit! PAUL!” You yelled through gritted teeth, and as you swung the door opened, sure enough he was in your antique chair. You were relieved you didn’t find him knocking down books, but then you noticed he wasn’t alone in the room. In fact, he was sitting on someone’s lap purring away. You yelped in fear, and took a book that was closest to you and threw it across the room, hitting the man that was sitting in your chair. “Ow!” “Who the hell are you!? Get out of my house!! And give me my cat!!” You screamed, rearing up another book ready to throw, “Y/N! Y/N! Stop! It’s me! Ow!” You had kept throwing your books, but then you froze and dropped the one that was ready to strike when you realized who’s voice it was that was speaking to you. “Doctor…?”

“Yes, Y/N, it’s just me. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you like that, I just was enthralled with this book I saw on your shelf about the history of art during the Reinassance and didn’t even hear you until you burst into the room. Paul seems to be just as good as ever, how are you?” He rambled on as you stood frozen to the floor. You heard his voice carry across the room and through your ears. You saw him sitting in the chair, stand up and slowly make his way across the room. You saw his familiar angels of his face, his deep brown eyes, and his styled dark brown hair. He didn’t look any different than the last time you saw him, yet you know it had been months since your last meeting. He had a genuine grin on his face as his eyes met your widened ones. That stupid fucking grin that even now made your heart melt. “Y/N? Are you feelin - OW!” The Doctor yelped again, as another book hit him with a thud and dropped to the floor. “What was that for? I told you it was me!” “Oh, I know it’s you.” You muttered almost silently. You were shaking with sadness, anger, excitement, and way too many other emotions mixed together, you felt like you were going to pop.

“Why?” You simply asked, awaiting a specific answer. He furrowed his brow, giving you a puzzled look but before he could speak you jumped in, “You know why I’m asking why. You know exactly what I’m referring to so you if you even dare say what do I mean, I will do far worse to you than throw a three-pound bloody book. So just fucking answer me in the simplest answer you can.” Your fists were clenched, and you couldn’t believe how hot your head had become in your anger. The Doctor just stood gaping at you, apparently not sure what he should or shouldn’t say. You scoffed, “Or don’t say anything. Walk out the door and don’t come back. I can still pretend that this is a dream, a – a vision. and just continue to do what I have been doing since you left, but don’t you dare think that you can just fly in and out of here whenever you fucking please and think I won’t be hurt about it!” You stood your ground, still not moving a muscle. You were afraid if you tried to move, it would result in you taking the Doctor in your arms and never letting go so he couldn’t leave again. In that moment, you realized you made the same mess about the room that you had been trying to stop Paul from doing, and you started to laugh. Your laughter quickly turned manic, and then switched right into hard sobs that made you crumple to the floor.

“Y/N…I’m so sorry…You know why I left…I’m back because I couldn’t bare being without you anymore.” “Oh so what, it’s been a minute for you, and almost year for me?” You shot through your hands as you wiped your face. “No! No, it has been longer than that. I traveled back to see you. I couldn’t go back to when I first left, but I…I just thought maybe after some time that the pain would have ceased and it would be okay to have a reconciliation.” A laugh escaped your lips and you looked past him as he sat down with you on the floor, afraid to touch you. “Today was the first day I felt normal enough to go outside. The first day I felt that I would be able to be back in the world like the normal human I am. I went to the store and got treats for Paulie, and some more books. Some about theatre, some just some novels. One’s a science fiction love story some stupid thing I thought might be an interesting quick read…” You didn’t know why you were telling him all this in grave detail, but it just was spilling out of you. It felt nice telling him everything again, but it was a habit you were surprised was so easy to fall back into. “God…What happened to us? We used to be so close…and now I feel like I’m telling a familiar stranger everything…” You pondered as you finally looked at him, and his face held pain in his eyes as he looked on at your pitiful, broken state.

You both sat on the floor in silence for a while, and it almost seemed like it all really could have been a dream. You were remembering the day he had left, and how much you wanted him to come back. You wanted him to come back even that very same day if you were being honest, but you didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it had. “You left because you were scared that somehow we would get hurt because we love each other…” You uttered, affirming your knowledge for the reasoning. The Doctor scooted closer to you, still keeping his distance. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I knew anyone who had the slightest dislike towards me would use you against me in any way they could and I couldn’t bare to lose you.” “You did lose me, Doctor. When you left me in that field outside of my parent’s house…I laid there for hours hoping you would come back. Hoping that it wasn’t real.” “I didn’t want it to be real either Y/N, I’ve lost so much…If I was going to lose you I wanted you to be safe, and home, and living.” “And if that meant you pushing me away and leaving without any trace, and it was on your terms then fine? You didn’t even care to ask me how I felt? Or think about what it would do to me? Just that you would be safe. Your feelings would be safe…” You both stared each other down, one waiting for the other to speak sweet nothings again, waiting to say it would be okay. But neither of you said a word.

“I missed you…” He professed, wringing his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. “You never really loved me did you?” You continued, your thoughts now not afraid to speak themselves through your voice. “Y/N!” He cried, and this time he didn’t care if you wanted to be touched or not, he pulled you into his chest. As his familiar smell and warmth hit your body, more tears fell from your eyes. He squeezed you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe. You could hear his hearts beating just on the other side of your face as it was pressed against his chest. “No…no, no, no…I have always loved you…” He admitted softly into your hair. “I would check on you while I was away…I was away for three hundred years and it never got any easier when I would see you…Every time I would see you, I died. You were killing me and you didn’t even know it.” He declared, a small, nervous laugh escaping his body as he explained himself. “I don’t want to be away from you Y/N. I don’t know what that means to you, but I want us to be together again. Like we used to. Whether that’s here on Earth or traveling across the stars, I don’t care. I need you.”

He took your face in his hands and made you look him in the eyes to know that he was being genuine and meant every single word. You slowly reached your hand up to rest it on his, reassuring yourself that he really was there, and this was your Doctor. He had come back. He was here with you, and he wanted it that way, but you couldn’t help but feel the tug of reluctance in your mind. “I need you too Doctor. I’ve needed you…I – I want to stay with you, I always had. But…” You could feel his spirits drop as his hands dropped from your face and into your lap, but he never took his eyes off you. To make sure his mind wouldn’t wander, you cradled his cheeks with your hands, as you continued, “But it’s going to take some time for me. I can’t just jump back into the Tardis as if everything is okay. It’s not. I feel mixed up, and I was broken. I’m shattered right now, both in a good and bad way Doctor. I want you to help me put my pieces back together.” “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you again.” “Then don’t.” You whispered. You kissed his lips lightly, and as you pulled away, he cupped your cheeks again and wiped away your trail of tears. He tucked some of your H/C locks behind your ear before you both stood up and really embraced one another.

You led the Doctor to your room where you both laid down, intertwined with one another. “Don’t leave. Just stay with me.” You implored after you had settled. The Doctor held you tighter as to reassure you, “I won’t. Not until you’re ready for me to.” “Well that won’t happen.” He exhaled a little laugh, resting his head on top of yours. “Well, then until you’re ready to go with me.” He claimed, making a small grin lay on your face. You nodded as you felt yourself fading into sleep. You were stricken with tiredness after this emotional roller coaster that was surely not finished riding out its course, but with the Doctor with you again you felt that it wouldn’t be as terrifying to go through the rest of it. Your missing piece was back in your life, and you weren’t planning on losing him, or him losing you, ever again.

[ourshineeshrine]

My Number One Fan

Chapter 25 Pairing: JongKey Word Count: 4.177 Summary: Kibum goes to the same, run-down bar every week to watch the man of his affections sing his heart out with a mere guitar for company. He wasn’t expecting the coffee, nor the beautiful personality within the singer. And he definitely wasn’t expecting to fall in love.

A/N: I was pretty quick this time, huh? ;) Anyway, this chapter is a bit of necessary filler I guess, but a lot more drama is happening in the next chapter! I feel like I'm on a roll now, so expect an update pretty soon :) Hope you enjoy <3

The week leading up to Thursday had been uneventful at best, awkward and depressing silences being the only thing which seemed to fill the school hours each day. Judging by the gloomy mood which seemed to engulf every hallway, each student seemed to have their own issues going on at that moment, and that idea was the only thing which kept Kibum from skipping all together. It was comforting somehow, to see that Minho and Taemin were just as troubled as he was, and when they sat down in the dance studio that lunchtime, Minho decided it was finally time to say something aloud.

“Kibum, not to be a pain but…are you okay? You’ve been pretty down lately.” questioned Minho softly, voice shaking at the knowledge that Taemin was seated literally right beside him. The younger male stared at the ground intensely as though he hadn’t heard Minho’s query, but his rigid posture suggested otherwise. After all, they were both awfully concerned at how Kibum had been acting the past week. They would have spoken up beforehand, but with soccer practice on Minho’s behalf, and dance practice for Kibum and Taemin, it was safe to say that neither boy had really had the chance.

The oldest of the three picked at his nails absentmindedly, head making a motion in between that of a nod and shake. “I don’t know…” responded Kibum. “Not really.”

Taemin frowned. “What happened? Is Jonghyun being a jerk? ‘Cause if he is, I’ll deck him in the schnozz for you.”

“If you’re going to deck anyone in the…schnozz? Then it ought to be me, Taem. I’ve been a real jerk.” mumbled Kibum, burying his face into his palms and tugging midly at his strands of hair. It was only lunchtime, yet he could already feel a budding migraine forming at the back of his head.

Minho and Taemin glanced at each other, confused, but the shared look was short lived and within mere milliseconds the boys were back with rosy cheeks and shifty eyes, not knowing quite where to look without seeming weird. “Don’t tell me you dumped him, Kibum…” spoke Taemin, horrified.

“No! No way, never!” denied Kibum, shaking his head profusely only to groan immediately after at the onslaught of pain caused by the small action. He took a deep breath to steady his thoughts. “My dad just…grounded me…and I’m not allowed to see Jonghyun anymore unless it’s at my house, and I don’t want to bring Jonghyun to my house because my dad will probably murder him but I miss him so much yet I can’t do anything about it and so I’ve been ignoring him and I feel so awful about it and I’m actually about to cry right now but I’m struggling to hold in my tears, and—“

“Kibum, Kibum. Calm down. Take a breath, you’re ranting.”

The boy in question paused, exhaling deeply and blinking a few times to hold back tears. “Sorry, guys…I guess I’m just feeling a little dodgy today. Don’t mind me.”

Minho leant forward to wrap Kibum in a tight hug and smiled sympathetically. “Stop apologizing, Kibum. What if we all catch up together at your house? Your dad won’t be able to ‘kill Jonghyun’ then, right? And besides, why does he hate him so much? I can’t picture Jonghyun doing anything that bad.”

A loud laugh which lacked any humour escaped Kibum’s throat, and he regarded his friends with a raised brow. “It doesn’t take much to anger my father…but unfortunately for Jonghyun, we practically did the worst thing possible.”

Taemin frowned in curiosity. “Did you set his car on fire? That got me into a lot of trouble once.”

The two older boys struggled to contain their concernedness, merely shooting each other an expression which seemed to scream: ‘what the fuck?’ Kibum stifled a snort, sobering up in an attempt to answer Taemin’s question seriously.

“No, Taemin. We did not set his car on fire, and I’m not even going to ask why you did. We just…well…held hands? I guess.”

Minho coughed loudly, choking on his sandwich. “Y-You…Held hands? Are you fucking with me, Kibum?”

Kibum smiled grimly. “Afraid not. Oh and to answer your suggestion from before: I don’t know. There’s always just this aura surrounding my father that screams ‘I hate your guts, rodent’, and I don’t really wanna expose Jonghyun to that.”

“Yeah but...you realise Jonghyun’s going to be really worried right? Like, I don’t wanna sound rude but…it’s kinda selfish if you don’t tell him about what your dad said. I bet he’s worried sick.”

Humming, Kibum’s gaze returned to his lap. “Yeah…maybe. We’ll see. But what’s new in your lives?”

The soccer player frowned at the change of topic, and became even more uncomfortable when he considered just what was new in his life.

Taemin and I made out on the weekend. It didn’t mean anything but now we can’t even look each other in the eyes. Nothing much, really.

He inwardly shuddered, and one glance at Taemin told Minho that the younger boy was thinking exactly the same thing. “Oh, y’know…” he finally managed to choke out. “Soccer.”

“Dancing. Homework. Setting cars on fire. Just the usual.” added Taemin, trying as hard as possible to look everywhere except at his best friend.

Kibum nodded sceptically. “Right, well…That’s certainly interesting. But Taemin, I think we need to have a little chat about your pyromaniac tendencies. They’re slightly concerning me.”

Jonghyun gave his guitar a gentle testing strum before promptly sighing loudly and placing it back on its stand. It was futile. No matter what he did, whether it be play video games, watch a movie or sing, nothing could get his mind off Kibum. Or, more accurately in this circumstance, the lack thereof. Reaching for his phone upon the nightstand, Jonghyun practically screamed in agony at his non-existent text messages, reading once again the one that Kibum had sent to him four days prior.

‘I’m home safe. Goodnight, Jjong x

Your Number One Fan’

Pouting, Jonghyun threw his phone onto the bed and slumped out of the room, feet trudging along the carpeted floor dejectedly. The faint scent of pasta could be smelled from almost every room in the house, therefore it came as no surprise when Jonghyun entered the kitchen and found Roo drooling over the delicious food his mum seemed to be cooking. “Smells good, mum.” he commented with a smile, but something about the tone of his voice told the other house occupants that Jonghyun wasn’t feeling quite one hundred percent.

Seodam worried her lip between teeth as she took in Jonghyun’s weary appearance, the dark streaks beneath his eyes implying that the male hadn’t slept properly in several days. She clicked the television off and called Roo over, giggling in delight as the small puppy fumbled over and attempted to claw her way up onto Seodam’s lap.

“Well aren’t you a little cutie?” she cooed incoherently, eyes raising in sisterly concern upon hearing the loud collapse of Jonghyun onto the nearby sofa. Seodam frowned, searching her mind for something to cheer her younger brother up. “Hey, Jonghyun. Written any songs recently?”

The singer’s head lifted marginally, and almost pathetically, he shook his head to gesture that no, he hadn’t. The frown creases in Seodam’s forehead deepened, lifting Roo into her lap unconsciously as she studied Jonghyun’s drooping figure. “Why not?”

Jonghyun shrugged. “Dunno…No motivation.”

The answer was short and simple – perhaps a little more so than Seodam’s liking. Quirking an eyebrow, she tutted with fake indignation and shook her head. “Probably because you haven’t caught up with Kibum lately, you poo.” Jonghyun tensed, and the medical student concluded that she’d hit the nail over the head. So Kibum was the root of her brother’s problems. Sex problems, maybe? Judging by how melancholy Jonghyun had been the last few days, most likely not. “What’s up, huh? Is he on holidays or something?”

Seodam knew her brother was sensitive. In fact, anyone who had ever met Jonghyun knew that he was sensitive. However, despite that knowledge, it still didn’t prepare the young woman for the sudden distortion of Jonghyun’s face, baring his teeth unattractively and screwing up his face with a loud sob. Seodam’s head shot to their mother who looked on with wide, apprehensive eyes, nonetheless turning away reluctantly after Seodam wordlessly gestured that she’d take care of it. Seodam hurried over to Jonghyun’s sofa with Roo and sat the small puppy gently in Jonghyun’s lap, smiling affectionately as the bundle of fur began to lick away Jonghyun’s onslaught of tears. “Hey now, buddy.” she spoke softly, wrapping her brother in a warm, tight hug. “What happened, ‘Hyun-ah?”

Sniffling and coughing in an attempt to suppress his loud cries, Jonghyun held Roo tightly and began to speak. His words came slurred and inaudible, causing Seodam to strain her ears in attempts to gather something out of what Jonghyun began to ramble on about. “K-Kib’m ha’n’t s-spoke to me in days, and he w-won’t reply to my mess’ges, and I dunno wha’ I did wrong!” he began, blowing his nose into a tissue which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “W-What if somethin’ happened to ‘im? He p-probably hates me. A-And on Sunday,” Jonghyun’s voice seemed to break here, and while half of Seodam thought that the image before her was beyond hilarious, the other half felt her heart break at just how devastated Jonghyun was reacting to the whole ordeal. Whether he would admit it or not, Jonghyun was in love, something which Seodam hoped would treat Jonghyun the way he deserved to be treated. “On Sunday, h-he didn’t even lemme touch him!”

Roo danced all over Jonghyun, licking his face furiously and nudging their faces together in what Seodam liked to believe was an attempt to cheer the boy up. She wrapped the three of them in a tight group hug and soothingly sifted her hands through Jonghyun’s thick, blonde locks. Comfortable silence was a perfect substitute for a meaningless bout of words, something simple which Seodam knew Jonghyun would appreciate. “Shh, Jonghyun. Calm down. Shh.” she soothed, carefully adjusting Roo so that she wasn’t suffocating her brother to death. “I think you should go talk to Kibum. Ask him what’s wrong.”

Jonghyun shook his head vigorously and swiped at his eyes. “I don’t think surprising him in p-person will turn out well, Seodam. He’s obviously staying away from me for a reason. I think I’m just going to leave it for now.”

The young woman frowned slightly, but figured that there was no use arguing when Jonghyun was in a state such as this one. Sooner or later he’d come around to his senses, and maybe she’d have another go of talking to her stubborn brother then. “Okay, Jonghyun, but just keep this in mind. There’s always two sides to a story, m’kay? Don’t place the blame all on yourself.”

Jonghyun, still bundled up with Roo and an abundance of cushions, nodded minimally. “Thanks, Seodam.” His fists lifted to rub his eyes forcefully, carefully lifting Roo of his lap in order to stretch. “I think I’m going to go to the supermarket for a bit. Get out of the house and clear my mind.”

His mother peeked at her son from her position by the stove, smiling softly at what she deemed her baby boy. “Take care, Jonghyun. Don’t buy too many sweets, and watch out for strangers.”

Snorting, Jonghyun rolled his eyes affectionately. “I’m twenty-one, mum. I’ll be fine.” He gave Roo a quick scratch behind the ears, cooing. “See you, Roo. Jonghyun-ah will be home soon.”

Upon arriving at the nearby supermarket, Jonghyun immediately made his way to the ramen isle, sliding multiple different packets into his shopping basket. He liked to call it a necessity – something he ate when hungry, depressed or tired. Ramen was similar to medicine, Jonghyun liked to believe. A cure for everything, no matter how big or small. Multiple packs of teabags were also deposited into the basket, and for some reason that day, Jonghyun paused by the cosmetic section, eyeing the boxes of hair dye which lined the shelf.

In deep thought, he ran a hand through his blonde locks, knowing quite well that his roots were probably beginning to show. It was a pretty big decision. Usually something which Jonghyun would spend days upon days contemplating. But this time around the singer was feeling a little bit more impulsive, making move to grab a box of dark brown hair dye and place it with the rest of his groceries.

He didn’t get far. Before his fingers could even make contact with the box, Jonghyun heard the sound of a mess being made behind him followed by the aggravated sigh of a woman. Turning around marginally, his eyes fell upon a pile of dropped groceries on the floor, a middle aged woman wearily bending down to pick them back up. Having completely forgotten about the box of hair dye, Jonghyun rushed forward to help the woman, lifting the heavier items and placing them delicately in the lady’s trolley. “Are you alright, ma’am?” he asked softly, before promptly freezing in his tracks as the woman looked up.

It was Kibum’s mother.

Jonghyun’s eyes widened in astonishment, and he unconsciously took a small step backwards. “M-Mrs Kim! Nice to see you again. Are you okay?”

The woman seemed equally as surprised, but nonetheless nodded softly and offered Jonghyun a small smile. “I’m fine, Jonghyun. Just carrying a little more than I can handle, I think. And it’s nice to see you too.” She studied the boy in front of her intently, taking notice of his red-rimmed eyes and cautious demeanour. A concerned frown threatened to dress her face, and Kibum’s mother was suddenly hit with the realization of just how kind and generous the boy in front of her was.

She knew that Jonghyun wasn’t a high school student. She knew that something about his relationship with Kibum was being concealed. She knew how her husband felt about him. But even so, she also knew just how happy he made Kibum, and before she could overthink it, felt herself grabbing his arm as he made move to leave. “Wait, Jonghyun!”

Jonghyun jolted in surprise, yet still paused to listen with a patient smile upon his lips.

“Look, Jonghyun…I know you’re not a high school student. B-But before you move to run away, I just want to tell you that no matter how you met my son, I don’t care.” She took a deep breath, adrenaline flooding her veins as she went against everything that her husband tried so hard to enforce. Jonghyun was frozen with disbelief, hands shaking faintly as she confronted what Kibum had tried so hard to hide. But before he could fret too much about it, Kibum’s mother continued, something which was equally as confusing to the both of them. “And I really shouldn’t be telling you this but, if you want to meet with Kibum, then I suggest coming to his school on Wednesday in two weeks time. We have parent teacher interviews. Oh and…if it means anything? He um, misses you a lot, Jonghyun. Hasn’t stopped moping since he got grounded on Sunday.”

A lot was going through Jonghyun’s brain at that particular moment, such as ‘why on earth is she being so nice to me?’, however the only thing he could manage to choke out was: “H-He’s grounded?”

Shocked that Jonghyun didn’t know about Kibum’s grounding, Kibum’s mother blanched before simply nodding sadly. “Unfortunately. And it was nice chatting to you, but I have a lot of housework to get through today. Don’t tell Kibum I said anything, alright? See you, Jonghyun.”

And she was off, leaving Jonghyun to simply stand there with his shopping basket in complete and utter confusion. There was a lot of new information to think about, including the opportunity to see Kibum in two weeks, but the singer couldn’t help but want to see Kibum a lot sooner than that. He sighed deeply one last time and took off, making sure to grab that lone box of brown hair dye on the way out.

Kibum and Taemin sat by the oval the following lunchtime, watching on with neutral eyes as Minho and the other players trained for their upcoming match. “I’ll never understand this game…” Kibum had muttered, Taemin mechanically nodding on in agreement. That wasn’t quite true. After Taemin had befriended Minho, he’d actually learned a lot about soccer, going to watch Minho on multiple weekends and having to listen to the times where Minho would ramble on about his interest at lunchtimes. And honestly, now that Taemin had figured out his feelings for the older boy, he definitely wasn’t complaining, taking appreciation in the way the sun perfectly reflected against Minho’s tall, sculpted body.

The two hadn’t spoken about the kiss since the day it happened, and while Taemin felt as though he should have been completely content with that, another part of him itched to speak up. Minho had looked as though he enjoyed it at the time. And he was the one who had suggested it in the first place. But with this onslaught of awkward glances and the inability to hold eye contact, Taemin couldn’t help but wonder what was really going through his best friend’s mind.

“Hey, Kibum?” he spoke, licking his lips nervously as the older boy looked his way.

“Hm?”

Taemin diverted his gaze to the ground and tried to make his speech sound as hypothetical as possible. “What would you do if just say…someone asked to kiss you one day, and then after you kissed, never brought it up again? Theoretically, of course.”

Confused by the random question, Kibum frowned, raising his brows at Taemin curiously. “Well that came out of nowhere.”

“I know, I know.” laughed Taemin good-naturedly, though practically sweating on the inside. “But c’mon, isn’t that weird?”

“Hypothetically speaking, they probably just wanted to kiss you without getting embarrassed or rejected because of it. Who did you kiss, Taemin?”

Colour shot to Taemin’s cheeks and ears, shaking his head desperately and waving his hands before his face. “I said theoretically, you moron! I didn’t kiss anyone.”

A sharp slap came to the back of his head, eliciting Taemin to yelp in surprise. “What the fuck! Are you mental?!”

“Are you? Do you think I’m fucking stupid? Who wanted to kiss you, Taemin? Because I swear to God, if they maimed you in any way whatsoever, I will stick their head in the doorframe and slam it shut on their neck.”

Taemin shuffled back in fear. “As if I’m telling you now! You’ll bloody kill him!”

Jaw dropping in an unflattering manner, Kibum struggled to form a coherent sentence. “H-Him?!” he screeched. “It wasn’t…Tell me…Not Kai…Please.”

The younger of the two sat in stunned silence, not knowing quite what to respond with. But apparently, silence was the wrong answer, the lack of response in Kibum’s vocabulary apparently being synonymous to ‘yes, it’s Kai.’

“That motherfucker…” Kibum seethed. “After all he did to you. Why would you even consent to kiss someone like that?! Excuse me while I go and murder him, Taem.”

“No, no, no! Stop standing up, you idiot.” Taemin called as Kibum stood to brush off his jeans. But Kibum was having none of it, looking off towards the courtyard where he was certain to spot Taemin’s old friend. Taemin watched in horror as Kibum’s eyes lit up and an almost sadistic smile etched upon his face, feet already moving towards the oval fence.

Panicking, Taemin looked towards the soccer players, sighing in relief when he realised that none of them were paying attention to his and Kibum’s little argument. He figured that nothing else would get the stubborn Kibum to come back, so bracing himself for an onslaught of questions, Taemin called out just loud enough for his fellow dancer to hear. “It wasn’t Kai! Kibum, wait! It was Minho!”

And just like that, Kibum was pausing in his tracks like a deer caught in headlights, slowly turning his head to study Taemin with wide eyes. He gestured to Minho with his head in question as though clarifying it was that Minho he was referring to, and upon Taemin’s sheepish nod, Kibum was practically running back to their spot beneath the tree. “Are you serious, Taemin?!” he exclaimed in a hushed whisper, a mixture of excitement and concern seeping into his tone.

“Do you really think I’d make this up?! It happened last Sunday…And I would have told you before now but it’s all a bit confusing, to be honest. But now that you know who it is…it’s obvious that your reason is wrong.”

Kibum rolled his eyes at Taemin’s naivety. “Ah, Taemin. You pure, pure little boy. The fact that it’s Minho doesn’t change anything! Why else would he suggest that you kiss, huh? He could’ve gone and kissed anybody…Literally, anybody. But he kissed you, Taem. And now he’s not talking to you because he probably thinks that you hated it.”

“Nope…He knows I didn’t hate it.” Taemin groaned, collapsing against the ground in embarrassment. “I practically—moaned! And as soon as I did he was out of there like The Flash, Kibum. If anyone hated it, it was him! I ruined everything, to be honest.”

With a disappointed sigh, Kibum shrugged his shoulders. “I mean…he could be embarrassed for you. But that’s awfully pessimistic, so just forget I said that. I reckon you should just go and talk to him, Taem. Confront him about the kiss. If you want your friendship to go back to normal, then it’s what needs to be done.”

Taemin hummed impartially, glazed eyes watching as the man in question scored a fairly difficult goal. “We’ll see.”

“Ugh, stop being all sad about it. You’re putting a damper on my already damp mood. Instead of worrying about how he feels now, just focus on the actual kiss. You actually got to kiss him, Taemin! So now you gotta spill, m’kay? C’mon, how was it?!”

Kibum’s optimistic pestering impelled a small, ecstatic smile to grow on Taemin’s face, and it was clear to see just how smitten he was by his best friend. “Alright well this is what happened…”

Eventually the school day had come to an uneventful end, a tired yet genuine grin of relief colouring Minho’s face as he made his way towards the student carpark. He spun his keys around his forefinger in boredom, and upon noticing Taemin waiting under his usual shady tree, quickened his pace. He was so preoccupied with the blush residing on his face and the desire to avoid the younger male, that Minho barely even noticed Amber making her way up to him with a confident stroll, jumping in shock as she appeared beside him.

“How’s it goin’, Minho?” the tomboy spoke radiantly, giving Minho a friendly nudge in the ribs. “Sorry for giving you a scare.”

“Oh yeah, y’know…the usual. About to head home. What’s up?” Minho responded, all of a sudden feeling awfully uncomfortable in Amber’s presence.

She smiled and scratched the back of neck blushingly. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to hang out on Sunday or something…if you want to?”

Flustered, Minho could merely stare openly at Amber in astonishment. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. And with barely any exertion of effort whatsoever it was being passed over to him on a silver platter. A week ago, Minho would have been giving the enthusiastic response of ‘sure!’ within just a few seconds – no doubt about it. But now, as he reflected on his feelings and what he wanted to say in response, the only thing that Minho’s mind could provide him with was the recollection of how Taemin’s lips felt against his; the heat which had pooled to his stomach upon hearing the younger boy’s contended sighs. Minho tried to snap out of it. Tried to remember that short-lived kiss he’d experienced with Amber just weeks ago. But alas, came up with nothing – the insignificant memory having already been pushed to the very corners of his mind.

So it came as a surprise to even Minho himself when without a second thought, he heard his mouth spout of some jargon about how he was sorry because already had plans for that Sunday. Amber grinned good-naturedly, like she always did, and took off happily without another complaint.

Minho didn’t have any plans that Sunday. In fact, Minho didn’t have any plans for the entire weekend, nor the ones following. Yet nevertheless, after having the option presented to him, Minho found that despite how nice it had seemed at the time to date someone like Amber, he actually didn’t want to at all. Instead, all Minho could think about was Taemin - his best friend, his escape, and as it now appeared, the boy of his affections.