#and I can't do anything else on my laptop as it's using all the memory and will crash otherwise

[i-am-l-ananas]

The data modeling software I'm using takes a while to run and I've gotten into the habit of lifting weights while waiting for it to finish processing and? My arms are definitely beefier?? Thesis stress induced gains here we come

[taegularities]

we can't be friends | jjk (m) | teaser

Summary: Jungkook once planted a garden in your chest that he watered when he smiled and you killed when he left. But flowers withering isn't enough; that doesn't mend the ache. No – you want this entire story to die.

➵ pairing: Jungkook x female reader ➵ rating: 18+ ➵ genre: exes to ?, college!au; angst, fluff, smut; oneshot ➵ warnings: heartache, past breakup, flashbacks, memories, memory erasure (eternal sunshine of the spotless mind vibe), tears, anxiety, angst angst angstttt, fighting but also such tender moments, college sweethearts 🥺, smut (details to be added when the fic drops)… the ending 👁 ➵ est. word count: around 25k; 796 for the teaser ➵ drop date: mid-july! will do my best and announce the specific date asap! ➵ a/n: another angsty taegularities special :D coming next, so stay tuned!! and come talk to me about it if you'd like 👁

The feeling of standing between two realities is odd.

Like a foot planted in life and another in death. You aren’t dead, of course — you’re so painfully conscious of your surroundings and so clearly alive, but if it was your heart detailing its state, it might as well declare itself fallen. 

There is no other way to really perceive this, you think, and as long as you relive the moments leading to what you fear, you will probably not quite feel at ease. It must be the spring sun above. Or the leaves finding their bright colours, the flowers spreading their scent.

Back then, you thought of all this as a new beginning, just what this season is known for — new sensations, a new heartbeat, brand new warmth to your cheeks.

When Jungkook rushed to meet you at the park eventually that you sent him the location of, he looked brighter than he’d ever been before and lovelier than he’d ever be again. Not that he wasn’t happy during the time you blessed him with worldly joys, but…

When you fall in love… the seconds just before you admit it, to yourself and to the other… when the heart, violently pumping, almost cracks your ribcage and threatens to burst…

Then, each of these elements makes the sentiments truly significant and unique. Love gets the blood flowing through the veins, but it’s the falling that truly births exhilaration. There is no memory like the growing adoration before anything even starts.

“And you were worried you were going to be late,” you told him as he came to a halt in front of you, bending down, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Take it easy, though—”

“No,” he panted, “I was imagining it like this.”

“Imagining what? Like what?”

“Just… you. What I want to say.”

“What–”

You paused when he licked his lips, squinting when his gaze moved up to yours. You were standing right under the sun, you reckon, blinding him in more ways than you usually did. But you weren’t so immune either.

Not to the rosy cheeks. To the messy, dark hair. To the college jacket wrapped around his hips, or to how he uprighted himself, brushing back the bangs that fell back anyway. To his words.

And certainly not to how close he came to you when he took a step further towards the sun, waking up all the butterflies, cocoons stirring in your stomach. You felt disgustingly giddy when he lifted his hand, putting it on your shoulder, acting as if he was still helping his lungs, calming down.

As if you weren’t aware that he just wanted to be nearer, to touch you, to look at you as he liked to.

It was weird for a moment; not because you found the proximity unwelcoming, but because you weren’t used to this. The two of you were chaotic, jokesters, not ones to indulge in cliché, corny scenes.

You were friends, after all. No matter how he looked at you, and no matter how many times you’d kiss his cheek to wordlessly utter the day’s goodbye.

He had been your friend long before he was anything else. And this might probably haunt you forever. The days you spent dawdling. And the weeks you cried over your laptops, cramming until sunset.

How he was still a little sweaty from running, exam forgotten, fingers leaving your shoulder and not pretending anymore when he moved them to your face. Stared at your lips for a second. Sighed as if he was yearning, dying, done with waiting.

You knew what was to come. You know it now, too, because you remember. You used to love that you did — and now you hate that you still do.

You think of Dr. Choi’s words. They are snatching your heart out of your chest as you stand there, in slow motion, probably cutting you up as you lay there in front of her. It feels like it, at least.

“Can you do it?”

Friends. Lovers. Nothing.

You can’t be any of it anymore. Or can you? Can’t you, can you? It’s as if ripping the petals of a flower, asking it to predict, only something you are barely able to deal with.

Fuck…

Will this ever stop playing in your head? But you don’t want to forget. You should. You don’t want to. Because—

You once decided there would be nobody else ever again. But you’re starting to think that if you don’t let go, there really won’t be.

But you don’t know how to do it. How to give into it.

You remember again. Words from above.

“Can you do it? Just that one moment?… It’s all that’s left.”

He’s all that was ever left.

this is just one of the harmless parts (and just the first draft of this scene), and the rest is just… :')) gosh, i am so excited to share this and all that i have in store for you! it'll be a journey. hope you will like it once it drops!! i have been very unsure about (my) writing lately, but i do feel motivated to write this and a few other stories, so fingers crossed it'll be a good read 🤞

which is also why it'd be absolutely amazing if you hyped this up a lil if you're just as excited :p your words mean a lot and make things happen even faster and give me a little boost to stick around hehehehe, so yeah… come and talk to me <3

also, here's the taglist!

[hypnonerd1095]

Contract

"Wake up Amanda"

Amanda blinked, confusion and drowsiness washing over her as she stumbled a bit, thankfully the man who had spoken to her was quick to catch her and steady her back on her feet.

"Easy there Amanda, I know it's disorienting, just take it slow. Good girl" the man said reassuringly

She shook her head a bit, trying to regain her bearings. She hadn't responded to the name Amanda for over a month now, it took a moment to even recognize the man was speaking to her, but being called a good girl sent a wave of calm and contentment through her that helped slow her thoughts enough to focus. That was right, she was Amanda, and this man had been her employer for the past month... what was his name again? The memory of that was fuzzy, the only name she could come up with was Master...

"Ngh... is it always this bothersome when we wake up?" Amanda grumbled, letting Master guide her to a chair as she rubbed her temples "no offense Master, but you should really work on this... also why can't I remember your name?"

Master chuckled "it gets easier the more used to it you become. This was your first time so it makes sense your thoughts are jumbled. As for my name, that's a bit of a safety precaution. Can't have you spreading word about this position around after your employment ends, everything is technically above board, but you never know what kind of protesters might show up on principle" he explained

"Right... the position... " Amanda mumbled "so I've seriously been your slave for a month? I can only remember bits and pieces. Guess that's part of it huh?"

"Yes, we can negotiate how much you do or don't want to remember. Some of my girls enjoy knowing exactly what is being done to them in their waking lives, some wish to leave their work lives separate. For trial runs like this we default to partial remembrance, in case you decide not to renew" Master said with a nod, providing her a laptop "feel free to confirm your payment was received and anything else you like. I'll have a servant bring you something to drink that should help. We can talk more when your head is fully clear"

Amanda nodded, logging into her bank account, wow, that was a lot more zeroes at the end of her balance than she was used to. Checking the transaction history, it was legit. Exactly the amount he'd promised, and a little more to boot for "extraordinary performance." She didn't know what that referred to but she blushed at the words, she had a decent idea.

A woman "dressed" in what one might classify as "underwear" if they were feeling generous came in with a plate of food and a fizzy drink. Amanda couldn't help but steal glances at the woman as she stood at attention, smiling down at Amanda blissfully.

"T-thanks" Amanda murmured, focusing on her meal. Is that what she'd looked like? The woman seemed so happy and content, didn't even seem cold from the lack of clothing.

It was hard to believe this job was real. Voluntarily be turned into a hypnotized slave for a predetermined length of time, all living expenses covered, and get paid a generous wage to use as she saw fit during her time off. She could even set limits on what tasks she'd be used for... though the less restrictions she placed on her service the more she was paid.

When Master had approached her with his offer she'd almost called the cops on him to have him carted away to an asylum. Only a sizable up front deposit had convinced her to humor him... but there was no denying it was real now.

When Master returned, he carried with him several different contracts. "Now that you've had time to clear your head, I've brought you options to review going forward. You can, of course, decide this job isn't for you. But you did quite well here, I'm prepared to offer you quite a generous starting wage." he said, putting the various contracts down in front of her.

Amanda looked over the contracts, various lengths, with varying amounts of time on and off duty. With what she'd made already she could easily walk away, this nest egg would carry her a long time. She could go back to her old boring job, serving customers with a fake smile, following inane orders from bosses who either didn't know or didn't care how impossible their expectations were. All for a pitiful wage that wasn't remotely worth it. It'd be better now, with these savings she had... but...

Amanda glanced at the slave next to her, that blissful expression mixed with arousal now that Master was here. Was being a hypnotized slave really worse than being a wage slave? She could feel like THAT all day, and live in luxury on her weeks off. Work this job for a few years and she could even retire!

She barely needed to think about it as she took the longest-term contract on offer, filled out her choice of restrictions, and signed her name. Probably the last time she'd be using her name for quite a while. Her Master smiled.

"Glad to have you with us, my Good Girl. Now then, slave A-42 activate"

Amanda smiled as the trigger took hold, she was going to enjoy this new job.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 13

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series

A/N: I am so sorry for the long hiatus because my laptop died and I have to get it fixed. About You will be in consistent updates starting next week every Wednesday and Thursday. I am actually planning to extend the chapters of About You up to Chap 18 because I messed up the pacing. I hope you enjoy this and let me know your thoughts

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444 @mploopssek @snakelore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @lordpercevalcharles

2013, Marina Bay Street Circuit

Sebastian was on an all-time high, he was winning on and off tracks. The championship was within his reach with each race he wins and his personal life is flourishing. He had felt the championship euphoria before but being in that podium and seeing Y/N proudly looking at him from below is something else.

Despite the energy burst, he opted to stay out of the Singapore night life and return to his hotel room. He didn't feel like mingling in sweaty clubs or the taste of intoxicating drinks tonight. Besides, he has a dinner at a skyline restaurant with a very beautiful girl so he has to change quickly.

Whistling down a happy tune as he texts a message to Y/N. There was nothing in this world that could ever ruin his happiness and that was a word spoken to soon.

When he turns the corner, there was someone that Sebastian didn't want to see.

"Oh Sebastian, thank God. I have to speak to you and its really important-"

"Hanna? What are you doing here?"

Sebastian's voice was mixed with confusion and anger. The past few meetings with Hanna was not a good memory for Sebastian and he could only feel as if trouble follows whenever he meets her.

"Are you stalking me?"the driver asked

The woman in front of him went red in embarrassment. She could understand why Sebastian would think that way but she was in a desperate attempt to talk to him.

"I know this looks bad but I had a friend here who told me where you would be staying and I needed to talk to you. I wouldn't have done this if it wasn't important"Hanna rambled.

"Didn't I make myself clear last time that Hanna I do not return any feelings for you and I'm really sorry if you thought a relationship could blossom between us because its never going to happen"Sebastian stated.

It would be a lie if Sebastian didn't notice how Hanna winced by the directness of his voice but he has to keep his boundaries. He doesn't want anything more to jeopardize what he is working on with Y/N. He will not be a man that will be unfaithful to her.

"But Sebastian, you have to listen. This is something big and this is something that I can't do alone"Hanna was begging.

"I'm sorry Hanna but whatever that is, I'm sorry but I couldn't be of any help"Sebastian ended the conversation.

He passed her by and shut the door in front of her. It was painful for Sebastian to hear the cries of his once childhood friend at the other side of the door but she has to learn that Sebastian cannot return her feelings back.

"You're not even listening to me Seb. You didn't even give me a chance to tell you about us"Hanna thought silently cradling the bump on her stomach.

2013, Suzuka Circuit

It was Y/N's dream to go to Universals Studio Japan to see the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. She mentioned this a couple of times but due to the distance between the circuit and Osaka, she always missed the opportunity.

"I still can't believe that you are taking me to Harry Potter"Y/N squealed, excitement was evident on her face.

"We still have a long way to go, they told me its a 2 hour drive" Sebastian noted "You can still grab some sleep"

"I should be the one telling you that, you just finished driving for the weekend and now you are driving at an ungodly hour of 7 in the morning"Y/N voices her concern "Don't you ever get tired of driving?"

"For you? Never"

Sebastian's hand found its way to Y/N's and he placed a gentle kiss. His eyes were still focused on driving and the road but he could see in the mirror the red tint on her cheeks.

For some it would be tiring to go on long drives. Sebastian thinks otherwise, he feels like he is the luckiest man alive to be able to go for long drives when she is at the passenger side.

"Do you have a list of which part of the Harry Potter world are we going first?" Sebastian wondered.

"Well maybe we could go and get some of those butterbeers and then we can explore the whole park. I wanted to try that rollercoaster that looks like Hagrid's bike and then the castle. I also want to buy some candies for Mick"Y/N listed down.

She looked up from her phone and she felt like she was being selfish not asking Sebastian about what he wanted to do. She wanted to do a face palm.

"That is if its alright with you? Maybe you want to go somewhere specific in Universals?"Y/N offered.

"Oh no, its alright. I'm good wherever you are happy. This is your day and I want you to enjoy the whole Harry Potter experience"Sebastian insisted.

Y/N thought he couldn't love Sebastian even more but she just did. She knew how Sebastian was not that big of a fan of Harry Potter, he didn't even know the names of the golden trio in the beginning. He just started to get into it because she was rambling all the time about it.

"Speaking of the Harry Potter experience, you can check the backseat because I believe there is a surprise for you there"Sebastian chuckles.

At the backseat, Y/N found two boxes. One has her name on it with a big black bow ribbon while the other had a scribbled vettel on it. She picked it up confused to what is Sebastian plotting now.

"Since when did you get all fancy?"

"I asked my Mom about it"Sebastian admits "Go and open it"

Once the bows were untied and the lid was lifted, there was a rustle of wrapping paper. Y/N couldn't believe her eyes upon seeing the emblem on the cloth.

"You got me robes?"Y/N can cry "And you got my house right!"

Sebastian will admit that he researched a couple of days ago about how to make this experience really special. Some said that the school robes was a good outfit to make the person feel like they are attending Hogwarts. He made some few calls here and there then tada he acquired some of the Hogwarts robes just like what was seen in the movies.

"So did you get a Slytherin robe?"Y/N asked, she often teased Sebastian that he could be F1's Draco Malfoy.

"Well I think I had to surrender, my Pottermore results said that I was a Slytherin"

"You took a Pottermore quiz and you didn't tell me right away?"

2013, Buddh International Circuit

The Taj Mahal looks exquisite with the sun setting at the back of it. Everyone was on their phones or their cameras to capture the moment but Y/N prefers sitting at one of the benches and preserving it in her head. There was something really peaceful to just live in the moment but she doesn't blame if people wanted something physical to commemorate this moment.

Maybe Y/N wanted to savor this moment of peace because by tomorrow she will be back in the paddock with all the different noises. She knows that there will be a lot of questions in the next few days following Mark's decision of leaving Formula 1.

She did not blame Mark, she understands that he has been doing this for quite some time now and he was bound to be burned out. She has also been thinking about retiring from this job but that would be happening in a few more years. The thought of retiring scares her because her life basically revolved around Formula 1. There was this idea that maybe if she doesn't have a job here then maybe she will lose everything that she have right now.

A heavy sigh escapes her mouth as she zoned out once more with the view.

"Mind if I join you?"

Y/N looked up and she saw the familiar grin of Sebastian Vettel. She gave a nod and gestured at the empty space at the bench.

"How did you know I was here?"Y/N asked.

"I didn't. We are doing some team video and then I spotted you here then I went ahead to say hello"Sebastian grins.

From behind Sebastian, she sees a filming crew at a distance. They seem to be distracted with Mark and the reserve driver Sebastien Buemi. Y/N acknowledges it with a smile then she proceeded to looking at the scenic view in front of her.

"You know when they told me about the Taj Mahal, I got reminded of us"Sebastian opened up "The two met when they were young and its love at first sight then they got married"

The thought of the very first time that Y/N saw Sebastian and the first time they talked to each other, crossed her mind. It seems like it was just yesterday but its been a really really long while now.

"And I don't believe in coincidences, I think some things are meant to happen"Sebastian stated "When I saw you here, I was given the sign of the universe and maybe a sign from Taj Mahal that its really you that I would like to spend the rest of my days with"

Y/N felt overwhelmed by the direct confession. This was usually how Sebastian is, he was very vocal about his feelings but the implication in his tone is different. Y/N felt like they are moving a bit too fast but maybe she doesn't mind at all.

A small box was placed in her hand.

"This was my Mother's. I carried it around with me since we started to tell each other how we feel. I am not asking you to marry me but I just wanted you to have it because someday I'm planning to marry you."Sebastian concludes.

"Seb, I can't.. This is too much" she was speechless.

"There is no other woman that I see myself ending up with" Sebastian insist "Its yours just like how my heart is also yours"

The silver band with a pearl in the middle stares at her. She ponders about it even after Sebastian left her side. This was technically not a marriage proposal but rather a promise ring.

She prayed for a sign in the weekends whether she deserves to place it on her finger or not.

Needless to say, it was a very eventful weekend for Sebastian. He crossed the finish line with a World Championship. Even after winning all these years, he was still amazed by the winning feeling.

The crowd chants his name as he shows his praises to his winning car. He managed to find his way to the podium with the congratulations littering everywhere he go and every face was a blur.

However, he had to do a double take as he saw Y/N on the barrier. She was wearing a proud grin and pointing at something in her finger. Sebastian didn't have to be a genius to recognize the familiar ring on her finger.

It was a memorable weekend.

 2013, Yas Marina Circuit

It was rare that Y/N gets to hang out with girls. Being surrounded by a lot of male bravado and testosterones can be a little too much which is why when there is an opportunity for her to meet another girl friend then she will make time.

Post qualifying sessions was a good opportunity as Jenson chooses to rest while the Red Bull boys are stuck in strategy meetings. Therefore, this was Y/N's window time to accommodate Hanna's request for dinner.

She couldn't wait to tell Hanna about the recent happenings with Sebastian or the latest gossip in the paddock. She was pretty sure that she might shock Hanna with the development of her love life. However Y/N was the one with a jaw drop when Hanna waddled in with a pregnant bump.

"Oh my God Hanna! Why didn't you tell me your pregnant?"Y/N was shocked "Are you okay or are you tired? Did you need to sit down?"

Hanna gives a weak smile, "just a little water"

"Of course,here. Sit sit."Y/N fuzzed "If I had known you were pregnant then I would have made reservations closer to your hotel"

"Y/N you're already treating me dinner"Hanna said

"I should be because I think I have been late in congratulating your little one"Y/N replied.

Hanna held her bump protectively. She was suddenly reminded the reason why she asked to meet Y/N. She was doing this to help her little one because she cannot afford that her child will grow up miserable.

"How far along are you?"Y/N wondered.

"About six… six months"there was an unease in Hanna's tone.

Hanna knows what she did and she knows what she is about to do. It plagues her mind how she could wipe the smile Y/N has right now with the bombshell of news that she has. Hanna blanks out as Y/N ramble about how she is so happy for her and the guilty feeling sinks even further.

"Y/N I have to talk to you"Hanna cuts her off.

It was better to rip the Band-Aid early than prolonging the agony.

"Oh we can talk later,lets get you some food first"Y/N dismissed. "I don't want you or your little one getting hungry."

The way that Y/N cares so much about Hanna makes the pregnant woman even more uneasy. Hanna noted how Y/N was so caring in asking her preference and she wonders if she would still be like that if she finally learns the truth.

Dinner went on smoothly with their chitchats of how life has been and how they are dealing with the changes. As time goes on, Hanna felt the gnawing guilt eating her even more which is why the minute the tables were cleared and the desserts were out, it was now time.

"I really need to talk to you about this Y/N"Hanna gestured at the bump.

There was a glee in Y/N's eyes, maybe she was thinking that Hanna is making her a godparent. Hanna tried her best to avoid her eyes because she cannot handle when her eyes starts crying.

"Now what do you want to talk about?"Y/N questioned.

"Im pregnant Y/N"it was now or never for Hanna.

If she could just change how things were then she wouldn't have been so stupid. She wouldn't have been in this situation right now and she wouldn't lose such a great friend like Y/N. However, this was a consequence of her selfish actions and now she will pay for it.

"I am well aware of that Hanna"Y/N grinned "and congratulations by the way. You should totally let me help you find some cute baby stuffs and-"

"The father is Seb"

[zenxvii]

Heey everyone! I know I havent updated in a while my bad...

I just haven't had motivation but now I do yayyy. It is for whc1 tho..

I started a new fanfic on wattpad and I'm thinking of writinf the first season too,, I started from season two lol lol because I got lazy and just finished season two so here's a chap of start in season two and I would like some opinions pls!!

-

It's been three months now. Three months and my mind still won't let me rest. It's all my fault, isn't it.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, 3 a.m. flashing on my clock, feeling everything crush me, push me deeper into the mattress, can't breathe, can't move. No sleep. But it's okay. It's my fault anyway.

My phone rings. I flinch. Don't want to answer. But what if it's him?

I grab it off the nightstand, staring at the caller ID, heart pounding — not him. Still… I answer.

"Y/n," a quiet voice says.

"Si-eun," I whisper back.

"You're not asleep," he says. His voice is so quiet.

"Neither are you."

Silence. Heavy. I almost hang up. I almost cry.

"I can maybe transfer to your school," I say, my voice shaking. I hear him gasp, small and sharp. "But… I don't know if I should. It's an all-boys school anyway," I mumble, closing my eyes tight like that'll make anything better.

He doesn't answer. Just breathes.

"My dad… he works at the school board. He asked if Eunjang could let me in. Just me. Just… make an exception," I choke out. "My grades are trash now. I couldn't get in anywhere else even if I wanted to."

"And… because of the incident," I whisper, voice cracking wide open.

"I see," he says. "If I do get in… your class?" I ask even though my throat hurts. "1-5," he says.I nod even though he can't see it. Maybe if I nod hard enough, it'll feel real.

"You should try to sleep, Si-eun. You have school tomorrow," I tell him, voice so soft it barely exists.

"I'll try, y/n. You should too."

"Mhm. Night."

Click.

The line goes dead. I stare at the dark ceiling again, like it's going to swallow me. My eyes drift to the table beside my bed rows of pill bottles staring back at me. Depression, Anxiety, Sleep deprivation, Memories, Ghosts.

I push myself up, my body screaming against it, and drag my feet toward the kitchen. Messy hair, eyebags, same clothes for days.

Dad's still awake, hunched over his laptop like he can work away the sadness. He looks up. Sees me. Sees everything.

"Babygirl…" he says, voice breaking as he pulls me into his arms. One hand stroking my hair. One hand steady on my back, like I'll fall apart if he lets go. "I miss him, Dad," I say, and it feels like my heart is ripping itself out. "I know, honey. I know. It's going to be okay. I swear," he says, squeezing me tighter, but promises don't fix anything, do they?

"I got news," he says, waiting, waiting for me to say something, anything. I just blink up at him, too tired to even nod. "They won't open Eunjang to girls. Not yet," he says slow, careful. "But… they'll make an exception. For you."

An exception, a mistake. a broken thing they'll shove into their perfect halls.

"If you can show them why girls should be allowed there… maybe someday," he adds, patting my head. I don't answer. What's the point.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he says, softer now, almost like he's scared of scaring me more. "Class 1-5," I mumble, pulling away from him, my hands trembling."I want that class."

"I'll see what I can do," he whispers. "You should get some sleep, honey."

"Mhm."

I don't really talk anymore. Words feel useless. Heavy. Dead.

I shuffle back to my room, feeling Dad's sad sigh follow me like a shadow. He always tries. He's all I have left. After mom… After everything.

I sit down on my bed, the bottle of water slipping from my fingers as I stare at the photos on my table.

One frame. Me. Mom. Dad. Laughing under the sun, four years old, like nothing bad could ever touch us.

Another frame. Me, Su-ho, Si-eun, and him. There used to be one more smile in that picture.Now it's just a ghost.

I should have held onto that night longer. I should have done more.

I grab the sleeping pills without thinking, throwing a few into my mouth, washing them down dry. Sleep is the only place it doesn't hurt. The only place I'm not awake.

I lay back down, eyes open, staring at the cracked ceiling above me. I close my eyes. Maybe this time…

Maybe this time, I won't wake up.

-

I did wake up.

I turned my attention to the clock on my nightstand, 7 a.m. watching the numbers blur before my eyes. I sighed and looked at the ceiling again. I didn't know what to do.

What would he say if he saw me like this? My room is a disaster .. clothes piling up on the floor, bottles of pills scattered across the table, me looking like… this. He'd probably be disappointed. He'd probably think I was a mess. I haven't visited him in so long.

I dragged myself out of bed, every muscle in my body screaming at me to stop. I walked past the mess in my room, the weight of it almost too much. The bathroom mirror didn't give me any answers, just a reflection I barely recognized. My hair was dry, weak. I pulled it into a messy bun and sighed, too tired to care.

I put on a hoodie, sweats. I didn't care how I looked, not anymore. Grabbing my phone, my keys, I slowly made my way to the door.

My shoes felt like lead as I put them on, but I didn't think about it. I walked out, and my feet led me to the bus stop. Every step was slow, heavy, like my body didn't want to move.

The bus arrived, and I climbed on, barely noticing the faces around me. I walked past a couple of friends, laughing, their voices like nails scraping on my skin. My heart clenched. I heard his voice again, echoing in my head, and it felt like the air was getting thinner. I sat down, eyes closed, hands pressed to my ears.

Shut up, please.

The bus ride felt like an eternity. But the time passed and I arriived at the hospital.

The sterile smell hits me the second I walk through the automatic doors — that cold, clinical scent that never seems to leave. It feels like walking into a place where time doesn't move, where nothing ever really changes. A place where people wait, suspended in some limbo, neither alive nor gone.

I hesitate just inside the entrance, the weight of the hospital air pressing down on me. I can't seem to breathe right. I feel out of place here, like I don't belong, like I'm intruding on some unwritten rule.

My feet move on their own, pulling me forward, but it feels like I'm walking in slow motion. The hospital sounds are muffled footsteps echoing in the distance, the soft murmur of voices, the beeping of machines that feel like they don't belong in the real world. None of it feels real.

I can't help but think of how Su-ho used to tease me about hating hospitals, how he'd laugh and tell me they weren't so bad, just full of sick people and bored nurses who would only care about their shifts ending. That laugh… it feels like it was a lifetime ago.

I round a corner and see a nurse walk by, her face focused and distant. I force myself to keep moving, but my heart is beating too loud in my chest.

When I reach his room, it's like the world goes quiet. I stand in the doorway, my breath caught in my throat. It's too much. Too real.

Su-ho is lying there, pale and still, his body hooked up to so many machines that I almost can't tell where he ends and the wires begin. His face is almost the same, but different. Too quiet. Too still. He looks like he's sleeping, but I know better.

I don't know if I should step closer or if I should just turn and leave. I don't want to wake him, but I don't want to leave without saying something. Saying what? I don't even know. I haven't said the right thing to him in so long.

My hands shake, and I can't tell if it's the cold or just the way my insides feel like they're being crushed. I open the door, I take one step forward, then another, and stop just a few feet away. I stare at him, trying to see the person I used to know — the one who laughed and made everything feel okay.

But this is different. This is real. And I don't know if I can handle it.

"Su-ho."

My voice cracks as I try to hold my emotions together. The words feel like they're caught in my throat, but I push them out anyway, barely able to breathe. I sit down next to him, my fingers trembling as I reach for his hand.

It used to be so warm, so full of life — but now it's cold. So cold. My hand, already chilled from the hospital air, feels like it's sinking into his, a stark reminder of how far we've fallen.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while."

The words burn as they leave my lips, a searing ache in my throat that feels like it could tear me apart. I swallow hard, but it doesn't help.

I don't even know what to say. I don't know if you can hear me, if you're still in there, but I need to talk to you. I need you to know.

I tell him about how I see Si-eun less and less, how we've drifted, and how I've let it happen. How everything feels like it's slipping through my fingers, and it's all my fault. I tell him about how I feel so disconnected from everything, like I'm not even part of this world anymore.

"But it's okay, right?" I whisper to him, my voice shaking. "I should've been there with you. I should've been faster. Stronger…"

My voice cracks, and before I can stop it, the tears start to fall. They burn my cheeks, the weight of them pushing down on me until I can't breathe. I try to blink them away, but it's useless. They keep coming.

I want to reach out, to do something, but I can't move. Not even for him.

"I'm sorry." The words slip out of me, a quiet whimper, before I even realize what I've said. I don't give myself time to think, to breathe, before I turn and rush out of the room, the weight of it all suffocating me.

My body moves on it's own, and before I know it, I'm in the empty corridor. I stumble, my legs shaking as the flood of tears I've been holding back spills uncontrollably. The soft sounds of my sobs echo in the hall, but there's no one to hear them.

I slide down the cold wall, my back hitting it with a dull thud. My hands clutch at the fabric of my hoodie, pulling it tight around my chest like it could somehow fill the emptiness that's hollowed me out.

I feel so small, so powerless. So broken.

Hopeless.

Empty.

I don't know where the tears end and the pain begins. It's all tangled, a mess of guilt, grief, and regret. Nothing makes sense, and I don't know how to stop. How to fix any of it.

I pull out my phone to call Si-eun. I needed him.

I wait… and wait. My fingers tremble, and my heart beats erratically in my chest. I feel like I'm going to drown in my own thoughts, drowning in the weight of everything. Finally, the phone clicks.

He picked up

"Si-eun.." I let out a small whimper as the tears won't stop, the regret pushing me down and down.

"y/n? What happened? Are you okay?" He says a pinch of worry in his voice. "I came to visit Su-ho." Not saying anything else.

"Wait for me." He says and hang ups the call. I dropped my phone on the ground. Su-hos voice in my head again making me want to rip my hair out. Feeling so guilty I just shake my head my hands tangled with my hair as the tears just keep pushing out. I wanted to vomit all the nausea making me feel even worse.

I sit there in silence, my sobs loud in the empty hallway, but nothing else can be heard. Everything's muffled, like I'm living in a soundproof bubble, the world outside moving on without me. I lose track of time, minutes… hours? It doesn't matter. I can't stop crying. My head on my knees.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and saw Si-eun in his school uniform. I tried to get up, but my body wouldn't let me. My knees weak, head spinning, and the burning in my throat.

"Si-eun." I manage whisper out.

"y/n.." He breathed out and pulled to my feet. I stand there, clutching at my chest, feeling the rawness of it all — the guilt, the nausea, the overwhelming emptiness. Si-eun's arms are steady as he helps me up, but I just want to crumble into him, to let him take away all of it. But I can't. I'm too afraid to burden him more. I don't know if I even deserve his help.

Si-eun doesn't say anything for a moment, just standing there, his hand still resting on my shoulder. He looks at me, his eyes filled with concern but also something else — confusion, maybe. Maybe he doesn't know how to help. He never was good at showing his emotions.

I want to tell him that it's okay, that he doesn't need to do anything. But the words get stuck in my throat. It's not okay. None of this is okay.

He shifts on his feet, unsure, his gaze flickering down to the floor, then back up to me. For a moment, he looks almost uncomfortable, like he's trying to figure out the right thing to say. But there's nothing to say, is there? Not when you've already said everything that hurts and there's nothing left but the aching silence.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks.

"Do you want to… talk about it?"

His voice is low, hesitant. He's trying, but he doesn't know how. His hands hang by his sides, clenched in tight fists like he's holding himself together. It's clear he wants to be there for me, but he's just not the type to pour out his emotions — not even for me.

I want to say something, anything, but I can't. I'm still fighting to keep my breath steady, to stop the tears from taking over completely. I don't even know where to start.

Instead, I just shake my head, feeling the weight of all the words that don't come out. I can't talk about it. Not now. Not when it feels like the world is closing in, and every breath is an effort.

Si-eun stands there, his gaze softening slightly, but there's a tension in his posture — like he's fighting with himself, wanting to reach out but unsure if he should. His eyes meet mine again, and he exhales, like he's letting go of some invisible weight.

"It's okay," he says, though the words sound almost foreign coming from him. "I don't know what to say… but I'm here."

I don't know why, but hearing those words, even from him, makes the tears start up again. It's not enough. I wish it were, but all I want is to hear him say that he's not going anywhere, that he'll stay with me no matter what. But I know Si-eun — he doesn't know how to do that.

I don't say anything back. Instead, I just nod, a weak, shaky gesture, as the tears continue to fall. It's not perfect. It's far from what I imagined it would be, but somehow, it's enough. For now.

Si-eun looks at me, his expression hard to read, but his hand moves to rest on my arm, a tentative gesture, like he's trying to offer comfort in the only way he knows how.

I looked to the side, signaling to Si-eun to sit down. He nodded quietly and sat beside me on the bench. My legs felt like they were made of lead. If I didn't sit down, I'd probably collapse. My head was spinning, everything around me felt too loud, too overwhelming.

"I…" I started, but the words got stuck in my throat. I didn't know what to say. How do you explain the way your heart is shattering? How do you explain the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once?

Si-eun didn't speak. He just sat there beside me, his presence steady, though his silence was heavy in a different way. He wasn't trying to fix me. He didn't know how to.

"I don't know if I can keep going anymore���"

The words tumbled out without me meaning to say them. My hands were still shaking, my chest tight with a pressure that felt like I couldn't breathe. The walls around me seemed to be closing in, the air thick, suffocating. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out.

I didn't want to burden him anymore. I just kept quiet, staring at the ground, feeling that crushing emptiness settle in my chest.

Si-eun didn't respond right away, but I could feel his gaze on me. It wasn't pity, though. It wasn't anything that felt like a burden. It was just… silence. And then, finally, he spoke. His voice was quiet, but steady.

"You can. I know you can."

I looked at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. "We'll keep going on together."

It wasn't the perfect reassurance I needed, but it was enough. Enough to make me feel like I wasn't completely alone, like maybe, just maybe, I could keep going, too. Even if I didn't believe it myself right now, his words were a small thread of hope, pulling me just a little bit forward.

I nodded, though I couldn't trust my voice to speak anymore. Si-eun didn't ask me anything else, didn't push me for more. He just stayed with me, and that was enough.

[r7diants]

` A FINE LINE !

-> synopsis : this is like the fratus harry (2012) era and harry being at the start of his career is of course busy which distances him away from you

⚠️ : use of y/n, hugging? idk, swearing, not proof read, fighting. if there is anything else I missed please tell me! (act as if they have a house tg or smth)

..

Sitting on the bed with nothing to do, you've practically finished everything.. all your due papers? done. Bedroom? cleaned spotless! While your boyfriend is downstairs working on lyrics for his album.

Of course you're happy and super grateful that his dream came true and he's finally is in a band which is blowing up more by the second, but sometimes you wish you could have your boyfriend back, the one that made you laugh and cuddled with you.. went on, what you both called, "adventures" even though they really weren't.

But they made memories, ones that you were thinking about laying on the bed, while your boyfriend's downstairs. It felt as if you two were complete strangers now. You wanted your harry back, so as you get up and go downstairs you hope it won't end up badly.

"Harry?" you spoke, voice almost echoing from the silence. You go to the living room and there he is, harry sitting on the couch laptop in his lap as his fingers tap on the keyboard mouse.

"Yes? what do you want?" his voice cold probably from the exhaustion he's enduring. "I- um was just checking up on you.. We haven't hung out in a while.." you mumble the last part out as his attention diverts to you "Well I'm working, so could you please just fucking leave me alone and let me focus?!" his voice loud, bouncing off of every wall in the house.

"I wasn't trying to distract you harry! I mean I've been keeping up with this shit for 2 months!" you yell back, all the thoughts and feelings you've had being spilled out. "As if I want to be only working all the fucking time and not hang out with you! I mean you have it easy, I haven't been able to sleep in a week!" he screams back.

"Fuck you harry! you're so insensitive you don't wanna even consider that I feel terrible that you haven't slept in weeks or that your eyes have been glued to that screen! I miss you! and you don't wanna even consider my feelings!" you pour out, regretting everything you said, eyes twitching as tears start to form.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have-" your cut off by harry's voice, weak and guilt full, "No.. No you were right, I was insensitive and I'm so fucking sorry for that.. I've been an absolute dick, but I just want to prove myself y'know? I'm sorry for.. everything, I miss you too" he says getting up and wrapping his arms around you, holding you in his warmth

"I'm sorry too, for not understanding you sooner.. I've just missed you alot and baby you don't need to prove yourself, you're amazing and if anyone can't see that they're stupid" you giggle, a smile forming on his face as he nuzzles his face deeper in your neck. "I was just scared of you leav-" he confesses as you shush him

"We'll be alright.." you pause "Now how about we make dinner? because chips and water is not a good diet" he laughs as you both go to the kitchen.

a/n : this is ass ik I HATE ITTT

[be-my-sunrise]

The Masked Man || p.js

pairings: jason role-player!jisung x fem!reader

genre: smut, minor pls dni

wc: 3,551

warnings: phone sex, mutual masturbation, use of sex toy, choking, use of pet names and derogatory terms, reader had a dream about having sex with jisung. let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: this fic is a part of 1-800-SLASHER collab by @jenoslutie !! i apologize for being late, i was supposed to post this on halloween but it took me longer than i thought. also, i really tried writing the "scary" part but turns out i suck at it and i feel like the ending is ASS omg😭 happy late halloween!<3 enjoy~

“Hold up.. Phone sex with who now?”

“With Ghostface! The other day, I got so bored and came across this website called 1-800-SLASHERS. So, these people role-play as slashers, like Michael Myers and Ghostface, and we can have phone sex with them!”

You furrow your brows in confusion upon hearing your best friend, Giselle's, story. Staring at her face in disbelief through the video call on your laptop.

“And you paid them for that?”

“Well, duhh, obviously.” Giselle rolls her eyes at your question. “You should try it, too, you know.”

“No way, it’s so ridiculous! The idea itself is just crazy, like.. why would I want to do that?”

Honestly, you can’t even begin to think why would people want to pay a random person to role-play as a scary character and have phone sex with them. You feel like it’s just a waste of money, and the idea of having phone sex with a complete stranger is just weird to you.

“I’m just saying, don’t judge until you actually try it yourself. Plus, I remember you once said, and I quote, “I would definitely bang Jason Voorhees.” 

Giselle grins widely and wiggles her eyebrows teasingly at you. You groaned, face-palming yourself at the memory. “Oh my God, that was the one time we played ‘fuck, marry, kill'! Technically, I have to choose one of them.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Deflect all you want, girl, but the heavy emphasis on ‘definitely’ says a lot.” 

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Aww thanks, I try to.”

You glance at the time and realize that it’s getting late, remembering the unfinished assignment that is due tomorrow morning. You quickly bid your goodbyes to Giselle and hang up the call. Thankfully, you were almost done with the assignment when you suddenly received a call from your friend.

The next morning in class, your mind starts to wander from whatever topic the professor is currently talking about, thinking about plans to do during the weekend. It was Friday after all. In fact, it happens to be Friday the 13th, which made you recall the conversation with Giselle last night. You still don't understand the excitement behind it. Not that you're against it though, it's just not exactly a thing that you would do. But, the more you think about it, the more curious you get. 

The day goes by like a blur. After dinner, you sit on the couch, switching between TV channels to find anything to watch. You were about to switch to Netflix, but you stopped when your eyes caught the title of the movie. Friday the 13th. 

"Of course they have this playing right now," you scoff. 

Not knowing what else to watch, you decide to watch the movie anyway. Even though your eyes are glued to the screen, your mind wanders elsewhere. "What was that website again? 1-800-SLASHERS?" You thought to yourself. Despite what you kept saying, you just can't seem to get your mind off of it.

You unlock your phone and open the browser app, quickly typing out the website URL before pressing enter. The first thing you see after the page is loaded is the name 1-800-SLASHERS in big bloody letters. 

Just right below the name of the website, you find a list of the character names along with photos of the role-players in their sexy costumes. Well, it's not exactly costumes because all of them are almost naked while also wearing the scary masks. As you scroll through the list, you finally find the one character you're most interested in. You tap the photo to take a good look at the guy wearing a Jason mask, eyebrows raising when you realize that he's shirtless. 

He's sitting on a chair in a very laid-back position, knees wide apart, and his head slightly tilted to the side. His hands rested on top of his thighs with one hand holding a sharp knife. The photo was taken in dim lighting, but you can still clearly see his toned figure. You zoomed in on his body, eyes trailing down from his broad shoulders to his abs. His gray sweatpants hang low on his hips, giving you a peek of his v-line. When you look further down, your eyes widened in surprise seeing his cock print, almost choking on your spit. You bite down on your bottom lip at the sight, wishing he pulled it out instead of hiding it under his pants.

You quickly make an account and manage the payment settings. When it's all set up, you go back to the list page. A tab pops up when you tap his profile, showing you a call and video call button. You can't believe that you're actually considering this. But, after seeing a visual of the role-player, you can't stop yourself even if you want to. You hesitated a bit, not wanting to show your face.

"Maybe a call would be better for now."

Suddenly feeling nervous, you stare at the phone screen as you wait for the call to connect. Then the ringing stops and you move the phone closer to your mouth, clearing your throat before talking.

"Hello?"

"Hey there." Your breath hitches in your throat hearing a deep voice through the speaker.

"Hi, uhh.. what's up?"

There was a short silence followed by a low chuckle from the guy at the receiving end of the call.

"Oh, I'm doing good. You?"

"Me too."

You let out a nervous laugh, lowkey cringing at yourself. It's not like you haven't done this before, you've had phone sex with your ex-boyfriend a couple of times in your last relationship. But that was almost two years ago, so you can't help but feel weird and nervous.

"What's your name, doll?"

"You can call me y/n."

"Y/N. Such a pretty name for a beautiful girl like you."

"Oh, umm thank you. So.. should we get started?" You ask him, and he chuckles before answering. 

"Yeah, sure. Tell me what you're wearing right now."

"I'm wearing a tank top and shorts."

"Take off your shorts, doll."

You mumbled okay and set your phone down before hooking your thumbs on the waistband, slightly lifting your hips to take off your shorts along with your panties. Even though you're still nervous, you can feel yourself slowly relaxing, thanks to his voice. His deep voice sounds so calming, yet so sexy at the same time. Your mind goes back to the photo you saw before the call, pressing your thighs together at the thought of him. You imagine him sitting on the same chair, one hand around his cock, slowly pumping himself as he talks with you.

"I took off my shorts, and my panties too."

He hums in satisfaction, "Mmm you're such a good girl for me, taking off your panties before I told you to. Now, touch yourself where you want me most."

You move your hand towards your core, collecting the wetness on your fingers before pressing it against your clit. A small moan falls from your lips as you rub circles on the sensitive bud.

"Is my pretty doll touching herself?"

"Yes," you paused. "I wish it was your fingers instead of mine."

"Yeah? Tell me more, doll. What do you want me to do?"

You rub your clit faster, letting out a breathy moan as you put in more pressure. "Wish you were here too, I want to feel your fingers inside me."

He snickers, "Oh, baby, my fingers won't be the only thing you're getting if I'm there with you."

Closing your eyes, you slip two fingers into your core. You moan out loudly from the stretch, imagining it was his cock. 

"Bet you look so pretty around my cock. All fucked out, moaning and begging me to fuck you harder." 

Suddenly you hear a glass shattering, making your eyes fly open in shock. You look around to find the source of the noise, only to realize that it was coming from the TV. You see Jason punching through a small glass window to choke one of the female characters. You bite your lip and start pumping your fingers faster, making you whimper.

"Fuck, I need you so bad. I want you to choke me while you're fucking me senseless."

He lets out a groan in response, tightening the grip around his cock as he strokes faster. His heavy breaths can be heard through the speaker, making your eyes flutter close at the sound of his noises.

"My pretty doll likes it when I choke her, hm?"

"Fuck, yes. I want you to choke me until I pass out."

"My, my.. what a naughty doll you are," he chuckles. 

You feel a familiar knot in your stomach, muscles tense as you're reaching your climax. You put the phone down next to you, using your now free hand to rub circles on your clit, gasping from the added stimulation.

"Shit, I'm so close."

"Me too. Cum for me, doll. I wanna hear your pretty moans."

Your jaw goes slack from the orgasm, moaning loudly as you rock your hips to ride out your high. He mutters profanities under his breath hearing you moan. You can hear him panting, breath hitching in his throat as he also rides out his high.

"Hey, umm thank you for this. I think I'm gonna end the call now." You say, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Yeah, no problem. Hope I can see you next time, doll."

You press the end call button and get up to grab tissues to wipe your hands. After that, you turn off the TV and head to the bathroom to clean yourself.

***

A few days passed after the phone sex and you can't seem to get your mind off him. All you can think about is doing inappropriate things with him. Riding his cock until your legs go numb, leaving claw marks on his chest, and the list goes on. Oh, and his voice. Gosh.. his voice was sexy as fuck. You want him to whisper praises in your ear as he rails you.

You moan into the pillow, hands gripping the sheets. The guy behind you thrusts his hips roughly, burying his cock deep inside you.

"Fuck, feels so good." You say, voice slightly muffled.

"I can't hear you clearly with your face against the pillow, doll."

Your heart beats faster hearing the familiar voice and the pet name he used. He suddenly flips your body so you're lying on your back, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders. Your eyes widened in shock seeing the masked man before you. Even though his face is covered with a Jason mask, you still recognize his deep voice.

He leans his body closer, pressing your thighs and chest together in the process. He rests his hand next to your head and wraps the other one around your neck, blocking your airflow. Your eyes flutter close, moaning loudly as he continues to fuck you. 

"Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me, doll. I wanna see your eyes get glazed over."

He mutters good girl under his breath when you open your eyes. Your mouth hangs open as you feel his grip around your throat get tighter with each thrust. He tilts his head to the side and chuckles.

"What's wrong, doll? You want this, don't you? You begged me to choke you while I fuck you dumb." 

Panic starts to fill your chest, but all you can think about is how good his cock is making you feel. You weakly claw at his hand, trying to pry it away and he just laughs at you mockingly. You start to feel dizzy, eyelids getting heavier as your vision darkens from the lack of air.

You suddenly open your eyes and your body jolts up in shock, hand clutching your neck as you gasp for air. You look around frantically only to find yourself in the dark. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you start to calm down realizing that you're inside your bedroom. You had fallen asleep while watching a video on your laptop. It's now dark outside and only the soft glow from the moon is illuminating your room. You get off the bed and carefully walk across the room to turn on the lights, making you squint from the brightness. Then, you go to the bathroom to splash your face with cold water. After you're done, you stare at your reflection in the mirror.

"Wait.. did I just have a wet dream about that Jason role-player?" 

The wetness between your legs confirms your thought, making you blush as the realization hits. You touch your neck remembering the way he choked you in your dream and how good he made you feel. The thought of his cock filling you up nicely makes you press your thighs together. 

You go back to your room and reach for the laptop in your bed, quickly typing the website name in the search bar. You strip your clothes off, leaving your bra and panties on, which thankfully is a matching set. When the page loads, you scroll down to look for the guy who role-plays as Jason. Once you find his profile, you adjust the pillow and your sitting position so now your back is comfortably resting against the headboard. You open the nightstand drawer next to you and reach for the vibrator and a dildo before setting it aside. 

After turning on the webcam and clicking the video call button, you set your laptop down in front of you, making sure your body is seen on the camera. The line suddenly stops ringing and then you see him. He's shirtless, just like in the profile photo, only wearing gray sweatpants with the mask. You didn't even realize that you were staring until he snapped you from your daze.

"Hello? Hey, you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry, I was too busy admiring the view."

He let out a small laugh, "I can say the same to you too."

"I'm not sure if you remember, but I called you here the other day. I'm y/n."

"Ah, yes, my pretty doll. Glad I can finally see you."

"You know, I can't get my mind off of you. I even had a dream about you." You bite your lip, debating whether to tell him about the dream you just had or not, but then you decide to just go for it. 

"We were having sex and then you choked me. I couldn't breathe, but all I cared about was how good your cock felt."

"Is that so? Take off your panties, doll. Show me how good I made you feel."

He hums in satisfaction at the sight of your soaked panties, palming himself through the pants while he waits for you to take off your panties. Once you take it off, you spread your legs wide and adjust the webcam so he can get a nice view of your glistening pussy, but can still see your face as well.

"Fuck, baby. Even your pussy looks so pretty."

You start rubbing your clit in small circles, moaning from even the slightest stimulation. You throw your head back as you pick up the pace, the pleasure making you dizzy. His cock twitches in his pants, clearly enjoying the show you're giving him. He pulls out his hardening cock, letting out a breathy moan as he slowly strokes his length. The noises he makes catch your attention. You were so horny you forgot that you're still in a video call. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of his cock. It's even better than you imagined. His cock is long and thick, you can feel your mouth watering.

"I need you so bad," you whimper.

"Yeah? You want me to fill you up nicely with my cock?"

"Fuck, yes please. I want you to stuff me full with your cock."

You grab the vibrator next to you, turning it on before pressing it against your clit. You moan loudly from the sensation, mouth itching to scream out his name. But then you realize you don't know his name.

"Tell me your name, please?"

"Sorry, doll. I can't tell you that."

"Please? I want to scream out your name," you beg. 

"I can't–"

"Tell me your name, please! I'll pay you!" You cry out from frustration. You're so close and you have been holding back, wanting to scream his name as you cum. "Please, I'll Venmo you right now, just tell me your username."

He grew silent for a moment, considering your offer. He feels bad about using you, but he knows you're too horny to think twice before paying him just to know his name and the extra money would be nice. It's actually against the policies, but at this point, he's also too turned on to care.

"Jspark."

Once he says his username, you quickly grab your phone and send him the money. He glances at his phone when he gets the notification, smirking as he sees the amount of money he received.

"Oh my pretty doll, I didn't know you're such a pathetic slut. You're so horny you didn't even think before throwing your money at me just to know my name so you can get off." He laughs at you mockingly before telling you his name, "I'm Jisung. Go ahead and scream my name, doll"

"Jisung!" 

You scream his name as you finally let go, back arching against the bed from the pleasure. You moan loudly as you ride out your high. He pumps his length faster, chest heaving up and down. You reach for the dildo and rub the tip against your slit. 

“I would love to see that in your mouth, doll. Get it all nice and wet for me?”

You close your lips around the tip, grimacing at the taste of your arousal. You lean closer to the camera before pushing the dildo into your mouth. You look straight into the camera as you bob your head up and down, cheeks hollowing as you suck the toy. Jisung can feel his cock throb in need, wishing it was his cock in your mouth. He imagined you kneeling in front of him, wrapping your pretty lips around his cock as you look up at him innocently through your lashes. The idea of you deep-throating his cock pushes him to the edge. Eyes close while his jaw goes slack. His abdomen tensed as he dumps his load on his stomach. Jisung let out a breathy laugh when he realized that you had turned the vibrator on again, pressing it against your clit while you suck the toy. 

“Look what you do to me, doll. I came once and I’m still hard as fuck.” He says while pumping his cock. You remove the toy from your mouth and suck in deep breaths. The way you look at him innocently with tears in your eyes and swollen lips, Jisung swears he could cum again right then and there.

“I got this all nice and wet for you, Jisung.” 

“Good girl. Now, put that in your pussy and keep the vibrator on your clit.”

Slowly, you push the dildo into your core. A broken moan falls from your lips as the toy stretches you out. The slight discomfort from the stretch feels so delicious that you don't even wait for yourself to adjust.

"Fuck, I wish this was your cock instead." You flick your wrist faster, the angle making you brush against your sweet spot. 

"Poor baby, is it not big enough for you? You still need my cock to stretch you out, hm?"

Overwhelmed by the double stimulation, you can only babble nonsense in response. Your thighs tremble from the pleasure as you move your hips to meet the dildo halfway, pushing the toy deeper. You pick up the pace when you feel the familiar knot in your stomach once again.

"I'm so close." 

"I don't think you deserve to cum, doll."

"Please, Jisung, I can't hold it anymore!" 

Jisung throws his head back as he grips his cock while fondling his balls using the other hand. His cock twitching in his hand, signaling that he is also reaching his climax. 

"Beg me."

"Jisungie~ please?"

His head felt like spinning. The noises you make and the way you whine his name drives him crazy.

"Fuck, y/n. I love it when you say my name. Go ahead, baby. Cum for me."

You let out a long moan, legs shaking from the intense climax. Jisung's breath hitches in his throat, panting as he cums as well. For a moment, only heavy breathing and a soft buzzing noise can be heard while both of you catch your breath. You pull out the dildo and turn the vibrator off.

"Thank you, Jisungie. That was great." You give him a weak smile. 

"Likewise, doll. I haven't cummed that hard lately," he chuckles.

"Well, I think I'm gonna go now. Maybe I'll see you again next time."

"I'm counting on it."

You end the call and close your laptop. You slip under the comforter and decide to clean up in the morning. You drift off to sleep, hoping that you would dream about Jisung again.

[stickiercave]

Test Run

Professor jack invites you over to help grade some papers for extra credit work.

Reader/jack

University au

Cw: noncon drug use - tricked age regression

Your assignments have been ass lately. Every morning you wake up without an email saying you've flunked out and they've set up a sniper for you is a nice surprise. Not that you would notice if they had as you rush between jobs and other obligations, most of the time even mandatory lectures are spent on your laptop with only half an ear to the lecture and half a mind on another time sensitive task.

Empty drinkable meal bottles and protein bar wrappers litter the tiny space that is your single dorm room. Not having to share means you can stay up as late as you want without disturbing anyone and no one to disturb your piles of clean and dirty clothes that take up half of the space. Very useful for the strings of all nighters you've been pulling, the clean laundry pile a makeshift beanbag chair and pillow.

Not the most productive space for studying and it can be hard to just get the rough drafts on paper, let alone make sure they have perfect spelling and grammar. Still, you can't let anything go now, there's too much riding on you. For now at least, there's a break, some obligations edging off just enough to give you a breather. So you take a well earned break to treat yourself and rest, right?

Of course not. Instead, you sent out a few dozen emails asking for extra credit work. You don't have a few dozen professors but dear God, for people who preach the importance of checking your uni email, you're not sure they ever do the same.

Which is what brings you here. A house, out on the edge of the city surrounded by woods and topped off with a far too long drive way. The bus only got you so far leaving you to walk the rest of the way. Dragging yourself down to your professors house to help grade exams for extra credit isn't your idea of a fun Saturday night, but sacrifices must be made in the hell that is academia.

Making it to the porch, you take a moment to roll your ankles as a breeze rustles through the leaves like blinking eyes and sends a chill up your spine. Suddenly eager to be out of their imaginary view, you knock.

The embellished wooden door opens to the bright blue fluff ball that is Professor Jack. The friendliest professor on campus who refuses to let his students call him by his last name. You're not even sure what it is, was it an S or an H name? Something dae or however else he spells it. Either way, he was the only one you knew would find a way for you to pull your grade up. Not only is he the most friendly, but the most nosy professor you've ever had. Maybe now that you've let him help you a bit, he'll get off your case about overworking yourself. It's not easy trying to sneak out of his lectures so he doesn't keep you after class for another check in.

"There you are," his grin is wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes, "I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you wanted to come over and help this evening." His sincerity is almost overbearing in the way he leans forward slightly as if this entire evening depends on your presence.

"No problem sir. Thanks for giving me something to do for my grade," he must be pretty desperate for help to be this happy you came over.

He chuckles, "I promise it's not just busy work, I wouldn't make you do work I didn't believe would help you."

The leaves across the clearing rustle again, but you don't glance to see the wind crawling towards you. Memory rolls through you as the breeze does, of being a child, running from dark rooms, not looking back, because if you did, something from the shadows would get you. But the feeling that prickles along your skin and stops you from looking back is a similar but different. Another ingrained memory, just on the tip of your tongue.

"Br, better get in here before it gets chilly," he steps aside, letting the warmth of his home breath out. With a nod, you follow him in.

It smells like cookies.

"Are you baking?"

"Hard work may be it's own reward but sometimes a treat is a better one. They should be done by the time we are."

He guides you to the living room, a soft couch and a table piled with papers awaiting for both. His home has a cozy, older feeling to it. Vintage wood and wicker furniture, touched up with primary color accents. It's small pops of colors lining edges of the furniture and carvings to emphasize them.

"Do you like it? I inherited a lot of the furniture and tried to add some of my own personality to it. It's not too tacky, is it?"

"No," you sit on opposite ends of the couch, "it's nice, vintage and cozy but a little, maybe whimsical?" It matches him well the same way his bright blue hair isn't startling or gaudy like it would be on someone else, somehow enhancing his mature warmth that lacks any intimidation.

You're handed a stack of papers and a key sheet for grading.

"Thank you. I know it's already late in the day and you had a lecture earlier, would you like some coffee or maybe tea?"

"Yeah, actually," your lashes flutter as you're reminded of how tired you are. You've been trying not to think about it. "How'd you know I had a lecture today?"

"Must have seen you around campus," with an unwavering smile he stands, excusing himself, "let me get those drinks brewing and I'll check on the cookies to."

You get to work on some papers, seeing they're from the same class of his you take just a different time block. Maybe the repetition will burn itself into your mind and with any luck, he'll give your class the same test.

He returns shortly, two mugs in hand.

"Alright, now let's dive into this. Feel free to ask about anything you don't understand. This is supposed to help you to, not just me."

And you do, picking up on a few things you missed in class from dozing or speed reading your textbook.

At one point, the corner of his mouth curls up as he tries to keep a straight face, a glint in his eyes.

"Hope this isn't testing your patience."

"No, I'm doing alright," tick, tick, another paper done.

"I hope you're examining those papers carefully."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at him.

"I am."

"Good, I know this isn't exactly a page turning experience, a lot of pulp to work through."

Setting the papers down, you sit back, staring at him with betrayal.

"Professor."

"Do you think more students would sign up for my class if I advertised it as mindcrafting?"

Your groan only makes him stronger as he snickers, having to cover his mouth with his hand so he doesn't snort.

"That was even worse than your usual puns in class."

"Hmm, strong words for someone I've caught trying not to smile. And failing."

"That doesn't count, I'm usually sleep deprived! I came here to help grade papers, not be held hostage and tortured," you still need to bite the inside of your lip not to smile too much and encourage his punny behavior.

He nods in understanding, pulling himself together.

"That's fair, still, you can't give your friendly professor a pass?"

"I will decease here and now, and you will be investigated for murder."

He laughs, leaning over to squeeze your shoulder.

"Once they taste my baking, they'll let me go," he winks, "speaking of, I'll be right back."

while he's in the kitchen, you realize you really have memorized this info now, grading a few more papers with ease and barely needing the answer key at all.

By the time he comes back with cookies on a plate, warm and soft, your work load is significantly smaller than when you both started. In the rush of always having something to do, it's easy to feel behind and incompetent.However, for the first time in months, you actually feel that bright sensation in your chest, the feeling of confidence that comes with being able to appreciate your own progress.

"Just in time Professor, think I might be going home soon," grinning with a little waggle, you're proud of how much you've gotten done.

His grin tightens ever so slightly. Perhaps he's excited to have his home to himself again and not need to be in teacher mode during his off time.

"Perfect! how about—"

Jack's shin hits the table, sending his full mug of coffee over the ledge to splash you in a chill from stomach to toe. Trying to catch the mug as it falls, you accidentally power bomb it into the floor. Instead of clattering harmlessly on the wood, it shatters far and wide, sharp grains settling into floor board seams that may never be recovered through non-violent methods.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be, it was my fault. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just wet."

He sets the cookies down, grabbing a tea towel and handing it to you before getting the mop. You try and pat some of the coffee off yourself as he cleans up the mess on the floor.

Eyes raking over the wet fabric clinging to your skin, he sighs and shakes his head.

"It doesn't look like it's coming out. You rode the bus here, right?"

"Yup," you groan, giving up on saving your clothes.

"I can't let you go home like this. How about you change into something clean and I'll put your clothes in the washer right away so they don't stain?"

"Change into what?" You didn't exactly bring an extra pair of clothes. You watch with confusion as he straightens up, smiling fondly.

"My clothes, if you're alright with it. They're all I have, you can borrow some old sweats."

"Right," obviously, no wonder he looked at you like that. He was amused, not… anticipatory. Before you can weigh the pros and cons of wearing your professors clothes, he's already gently ushered you off the couch and towards the bathroom, only having a moment before he's pushing an old sweatshirt and soft pants into your hands from the towel closet.

"These should be fresh and clean for you," and he pops out, closing the door behind himself.

They don't fit well, but you make the adjustments you need to make it work. You're surprised to find that the 'old' and 'fresh' sweats don't smell musty or like detergent, but blueberries.

"At least I won't be the first person to go on the bus in barely fitting pyjamas," you say as you step out, finding your professor holding a new plate of cookies with his back turned as he sets them on the table with fresh mugs to boot.

"I'm sure they suit you."

Walking past him to sit on the couch, your phone says the next bus won't be for another hour. Crumpling over the couch arm, a pained groan escapes as you consider how much longer it will take to get back to your dorm and start in on the next task.

"Oh sunshine," his voice is so soft you almost believe you imagined it. Peeking up, he's staring at you, at your form in his clothes on his couch in his home. That prickling feeling from the doorway scratches the base of your head. He jumps slightly when you meet his eyes, snapping out of some thought he must have been in. His formalities disappear entirely for a moment, a hand carding through his hair to ground himself, "are they comfortable for you?"

"Yeah, they're super soft. Not even a little bit of pilling,"

"Good, I'm glad." Sitting beside you, he offers a cookie, "sounds like you could you could use something sweet while you wait. Laughter might be the best medicine but I think my baking is strong second."

Thanking him, you take the cookie and take a gloomy bite. The moment it touches your tongue you're groaning at the perfect soft and warm sweet. It's your favorite kind to. He keeps handing them to you until you're on the third before it slips from your fingers to your lap.

Your lashes flutter. A bubbling sensation in your head that almost tickles, like too much dish soap in the sink, rising and popping. The feeling brings a growing dizziness. These sweats really are cozy, worn in yet soft and warm. You hold yourself, hands rubbing your arms to nuzzle into the sweatshirt like snuggling into a quilt. So many hands. When did you have that many hands?

"How are you feelings?" His voice is so close suddenly, breath warm against your ear.

"D-dizzy. Like my heads soup?" You'd sway if he wasn't already holding you, taking your hands away in his while an arm wraps around you, kneading your arm or back for you. That's nice, now you don't have to focus on doing it yourself anymore.

"Like you're melting?" His voice is a warm purr.

"Maybe?" Your ability to focus is slipping, details and thoughts starting to drop away as sand in your fist.

"Just lean back," he gently pushes you back, dusting the crumbs off your pants. Petting your head, he clicks his tongue, "it should have taken a bit longer to kick in. You must not be eating. That's alright, one day soon you'll have everything you need. I'll be right back."

You lay back, alone for now with a warmth fuzzing the edges of your being. A spot in your vision dances, small and colorful. A spider? With every ounce of focus you can manage, you stare at it. Not even daring to blink despite how heavy your eyelids feel. You know, if you let it out of your sight, it'll strike. Or has it already struck? Is that why it's dancing? Mocking you? Your grumblings are interrupted by trees wrapping around you and a firm pillow moving beneath you. Hair is brushed from your face by the barest touch.

"Come on sunshine, don't fight it and just relax. Let Jack take care of everything," a fabric measuring tape is pulled around your body as you lay against him. "Even your clothes. You'll have the softest little outfits," a warmth presses against your cheek. When was the last time you were hugged? It feels now as if you are several, the fabric tape trailing after. Hugged around your shoulders, chest, waist, stomach, hips where you're lightly startled by soft skin lingering on yours where the shirt has ridden up. Looking down you see his face there, lips to your hip. He smiles up at you, a smile that looks as dreamy as you feel. A dream, that makes sense.

You float between wakefulness and sleep as sure hands run across your body and honeyed promises cloud your mind.

"All done, you were so good and patient for me," jostling, you're being rearranged. Sitting up, he's behind you, sat between his legs and an arm around your waist to keep you upright. A thumb strokes your chin. "One last thing before bedtime, sundrop. You need something more in the tank than just caffeine and sugar," food is pressed to your lips, the scent hitting your nose, and your mouth waters. You're starving, you have been starving. Food, real food that you need as much of as possible before your body dissolves. Small mouthfuls of vegetables, meat, and starches, fed to you slowly with patience, the next mouthful never pressing to your lips before your done with the last. "Good job. Doesn't that feel better? Such a good sunbeam, see how good it is to just let me help you?"

Another touch of warm metal to your lips, but you can't manage it. Limp against the warmth behind you, there is no world where you can open your lips again. You aren't even sure if you have lips anymore, what even are lips?

You're just so, so tired.

You have been for a long time.

⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆♡⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆♡⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆♡⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆♡⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Bird song, the smell of coffee, and a warm weight holding you. It's good here, in this barely awake state with no worries, just comfort. The coffee rouses your mind, pulling you back to the real world. You didn't make coffee so why is there coffee? Prying your eyes open, the unfamiliar surroundings send your head spinning, disoriented as you take in the bedroom that would make up the entirety of your dorm. This room is impersonal, fairly empty as cozy as it is. A guest room.

Steam curls from the mug, cream and sugar prepared beside it for you to make it however you wish. Which you do. You feel good, better rested than you have in ages, possibly even more than before the term started. Refreshed, relaxed. And stronger without a gnawing in your gut. Who knew fresh baked cookies could be so filling?

With more power to your brain, you can remember how you fell asleep. You must have passed out on the couch after the baked goods. You've been running on empty for weeks, possibly months, hadn't even eaten your quick meals in a day or two. Finally getting something solid in your stomach while being so relaxed must have triggered your body into thinking it was safe to rest.

You'll have things to do when you get back to your dorm, but you feel oddly at peace. The smell of pancakes drifting under the door beckon you. There are things to do, due dates to make, a million reasons to rush out the door run back into the city and campus if you have to. You won't. The panic and embarrassment of falling asleep on your professors couch feels like a distant urgency, something you're aware you should be alarmed about but can't be. You're not sure why, all you know is you are walking down the stairs in your professors sweats to see if he'll spare a pancake or two for you.

[allisluv]

stargazing with karen sikro for flufftober

flufftober — day one

pairing: karen sirko x fem!reader

content warnings: a secret established relationship cause it’s the 70’s and i assume you know how most people felt about gay people back then. maybe one innuendo and feelings of anxiety around being in love with a girl but that's it!

summary: your girlfriend, karen, wakes you up in the middle of the night to see if you’ll stargaze with her

word count: 400

A/N: sorry this is later than planned my laptop broke! please don’t forget to reblog please! <3

Karen tip-toes across the landing and into your bedroom, where she closes the door as quietly as humanly possible. The last thing she wants to do is wake up your band-mates--- call her selfish, but she wants this moment to be between you and her, not the six other people who live in this house.

She crouches down beside your single bed, committing your features to memory for a few moments before she reaches out and gently shakes you. "Darling," she mutters, watching your lashes kiss your cheekbones as you blink the sleep out of your eyes.

"Karen?" You mumble, still stuck in that haze between being awake and being asleep. Her delicate fingers dance across your face and you keen into her touch. "Are you ok? What's wrong, baby?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, gorgeous," she apologises. "It's just... nothing, go back to sleep. It's stupid."

You prop yourself up on one elbow, cupping her cheeks in your hands. "It's not stupid. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours, hm?"

Karen's glad that you can't see her in the dark, otherwise you'd see the blush dusting across her cheeks. "Wanna go stargazing?"

Your lips tip upwards in a mischievous smile as you lean forward and kiss her. Karen melts into your touch and slips her tongue into your mouth, but you pull away before anything else can come away from it. "Nuh-uh," you chastise. "We're going stargazing."

Karen groans in faux annoyance and stands to her feet, taking you by the hand and waiting patiently as you slip your feet into your slippers. She presses a finger against your lips when you giggle and leads you back into the landing and down the winding staircase.

The harsh wind bites at your exposed skin and you tuck yourself into your girlfriend's side, craving that warmth. She drops to the ground and lays in the patch of grass on your front lawn, tugging you down with her.

It's cold, but Karen lets you lay on her chest, and suddenly, it doesn't feel too bad.

"What if someone sees us?" You whisper, pulling away slightly.

Karen pulls you back down onto her chest. "Let them."

You spend the better part of an hour stargazing. Karen points out the different consolations and suddenly, being in love with a girl doesn’t seem all that daunting.

[haesunlover]

long to be home. (intro)

pairing: huang renjun x female!reader

series genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, eventual smut

word count: 2.1k words

chapter warnings: fluff, light angst, reader is an aspiring writer, renjun being the best bf ever, mark talking about his dick for a second, nothing else really.

the page on the computer screen remained blank, like your thoughts as you tried to remember any childhood memories. you threw your head back groaning, trying to rattle your brain for any sort of progress. giving up, you opened the facetime app on your computer and dialled the only person who can help in this scenario.

"hey sexy," your high school best friend says as she answered the phone. "to what do i owe the pleasure?"

just hearing her voice instantly made you burst into tears. "i'm trying to write but i am fucking clueless. i'm trying to put together my childhood but it's so blurry. i can see it but i can't at the same time. it's so stupid but i'm so fucked. my brain is absolutely fried." you blurt out, holding your head in your hands.

"woah, wait. is this about your show that you're writing? the one about your life?" lia asks, confused and concerned at this sudden outburst bringing the phone closer to her face.

you nodded your head, pushing your hair away from your face and now properly looking at the camera. "yes. i'm like.. stuck. i'm not getting anywhere cause i can't remember all the details." you huffed after taking a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself down. "i'm getting so frustrated."

lia nodded her head before pulling a naughty smirk at the camera. "you know what i think?" she asked.

"what?"

"i think you need to come home. you've been gone for too long and can't remember anything. you need a memory refresher. and a holiday to come see me." she said, looking pretty proud of her suggestion.

you let out a chuckle, shaking your head at her. "i'd love to but i can't just drop everything and come over."

confusion flashed over lia's face. "why not? don't you have like a whole month off? and doesn't renjun get a two week break soon?" she asked, making a very valid point.

you thought about it. a trip back home to australia with your boyfriend and getting to see your best friend after four years. sounds great in theory but.. "i mean, i'm not sure. i don't know if i'm mentally rea- '' you started to talk and tear up but was cut off by the sound of the keypad to the apartment being used. 

"shit, i gotta go. i'll keep you updated. talk to you soon!" you quickly exclaimed, shutting the lid of the laptop. you quickly wiped the tears away from under your eyes and smoothed out your hair as if you weren't about to rip it out moments before.

"y/n? you here, my love?" you hear your boyfriend, renjun, call out for you. you quickly jump out of the desk chair and walk out into the living area to see him and the rest of the dream members. 

"hey guys, i'm sorry for staying for so long. i lost track of time. i'll head out now so you guys can rest up after working hard today." you explained, jolting your fist in a little 'fighting' sign as you look around at them all.

mark shook his head and asked, "what are you talking about? it's movie night! it's my pick tonight. plus rina will be over soon."

your face dropped a bit, knowing that you weren't in the right headspace to be around the boys. you just wanted to go lie in your own bed and contemplate the previous conversation you had with lia.

renjun's eyebrows furrowed as he scanned your face, coming closer and grabbing your hand. "have you been crying?"

feeling called out, you mirrored his expression. "no? what makes you think that?" you ask defensively.

his face remained firm, giving you a look that showed he knew you were lying. "your nose is red. that is such a tell tale sign for you crying."

you muttered a quiet 'shit' under your breath and tugged his arm that was still attached to your hand towards the front door. "can we go on a walk please?" you say, the room falling completely silent out of nosiness and concern. renjun silently nodded and followed you out of the front door and into the elevator.

the elevator ride down was silent. it was silent until the two of you walked out of the lobby and down into the street. "should we go to the park?" renjun asked, squeezing your hand that he has not let go of since he first grabbed it. you nodded, slightly swinging your hands together. 

after walking quietly for about five minutes, the two of you reached the park and sat on a familiar park bench that you and the boys go to often.

renjun let go of your hand and grabbed a seat first, putting his arm over the back of the bench as if he was inviting you to cuddle into him. you flashed him a shy smile and sit next to him, throwing your legs over his lap and snuggling into him.

he has yet to say anything. he's learned over the year of being with you that you'll open up when you're ready and not to rush you. 

it took a few moments before you found the courage to speak up, "i want to go home."

"but we were just at home?"`

"no. 'australia' home."

"okay."

you stared at him, puzzled. "that's it? you're okay with that?"

he nods his head, grabbing your hand. "i'm okay with it. the real question is are you okay with it? are you ready to go back?"

and that's exactly why you're stuck. you had thought about going home a lot recently, even before lia brought it up. the last few years in australia were life changing to say the least. you knew you'd go back eventually and face the past but not this soon. but over the last few days, you've realized it's something you must do in order to move on.

"honestly, renjun? no, i am so scared. but it's something i need to do." you answered, shakily while leaning on his shoulder.

you felt him nodding his head with a small 'mhm..' vibrating through his body. "may.. may i ask what's brought this on all of a sudden?"

you turn your head up to look at him, faces close together. "i've been trying to write but it's almost like i have writers block. except with my childhood memories. i can't seem to remember a lot. it started a few days ago. i thought about going home once. but then i thought about it again and again. then i called lia.. and she suggested the same thing. i think it's time. it's kind of bittersweet, thinking about going home. part of me longs to go back home but the other part is scared shitless." you rambled.

renjun peered down at you, looking between your eyes. "alright baby. it's no problem. we'll go back to the dorms and figure out the logistics soon."

you nodded at the start of his suggestion but looked at him confused as he finished it. "soon? why soon?"

he smiled and leaned down, kissing you softly. he put his free hand on your chin, holding you as you kissed. renjun then pulled away, "i don't know about you but i hear the playground calling our names." he said with a childish smile plastered on his face.

"i am so in love with you." you mumble, staring at him lovingly. you quickly looked around the park, making sure there was nobody around before laughing and jumping off the bench to run towards the playground. "last one to the swings is a rotten egg!"

by the time you two got back to the apartment, the lights were off in the hallway. only the tv light could be seen shining from the living room. you guys walked into the room and saw that the group were already about halfway through the movie and mark's girlfriend, also one of your closest friends, had joined.

spotting a spare seat next to mark and rina on the three seater couch, you let go of renjun's waist that you were previously holding and head towards the couple quietly. rina lets out a small sound of surprise as you fit yourself into the couple's cuddles. "hi, my rainbow. where've you been?" she asked as she leaned over and gave a quick kiss to your cheek.

"yo, why did my dick twitch a little?" mark mumbled, watching the two of you. both rina and you rolled your eyes at him. renjun walked behind the couch, heading to the only free seat in the room on the beanbag but not without smacking mark across the head first.

you couldn't help but laugh at the stupidity of them, knowing mark meant no harm. "renjun and i were at the park, having a chat." you explained, nuzzling yourself into rina. your friend shifted in her seat, turning her full attention to you.

"shit, what about?" she asked, pulling the blanket away from mark and onto your legs instead.

"well, we wer-"

"oh my god, here we go again. can you guys talk in another room please? you do this every time you see each other. the two of you literally talk for hours." chenle groaned, throwing his head back before looking at the pair of you. there were mumbles of agreement, even from your boyfriends.

giggles fell from both yours and your friend's lips as the two of you push off the couch and into the kitchen to talk. rina pulls herself onto the kitchen bench and you mirror her action but onto the kitchen island. "alright, spill." rina says, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl next to her.

"i'm going back home to australia for a while." you say, scanning rina's face. 

she stopped peeling her banana and slowly nodded, thinking about what to say. "okay.. and am i invited?" she asked, taking a bite of the banana.

you looked at her confused at apparently her only thought. "you don't have anything else to say? any advice? am i being crazy?"

"well shit, if you're going back there then you'll need moral support. which will be me!" she exclaims cheerfully.

you thought for a second. you two had been talking about going on vacation for awhile and she is actually incredible support. it'll also give rina a chance to go back home too. "i mean, i don't see why not? renjun and i decided on going during his break. would mark be okay with that?" you asked. rina quickly shoved the rest of the banana in her mouth, letting out a muffled 'let me ask.'

she jumped off of the kitchen bench and walked back into the living room with you not too far behind her. "mark, wanna go to australia with us?" she asked quite loudly over the movie. the room erupted in noise, some of the boys talking amongst each other and others trying to talk to you two girls.

"shit, i didn't know i'd cause that much of a fuss." she awkwardly mumbled, returning to her seat next to mark.

chenle spoke up loudly over the noise, "why are you guys going to australia?" he asked looking between you and rina. you groaned, walking to the lightswitch and turning it on so you can actually see everybody properly. you grabbed the remote off the table and quickly paused the movie.

"me and renjun are going back to australia to go sort things out. some family things." which wasn't entirely a lie, "rina wants to come because we've been planning a holiday together long before renjun and i even started dating. she'll also be going home to australia so obviously she wouldn't go without mark." you continued to explain.

it was jeno that spoke up next, "well, can we come too?" he asked softly next to jaemin. the two of them both showing you a very similar innocent, boyish look. you look at renjun, silently asking for help. 

he pushed himself out of the beanbag and made his way over to where you were standing by the tv, "well, how about we go, just us, for the first few days and then the rest of them can join us later?" 

you nodded in approval, look at everyone else to see if they give the same approval. everyone was showing some way of saying yes. it was jisung who spoke up next, "where are we even going?"

"we're going back to my hometown on the gold coast." the room erupted in noise again, but this time in excited chatter. whilst everyone was talking, you turn to renjun with a half excited and half scared look on your face.

"i guess this is it. i'm going home."

[kangaracha]

skz + losing 3racha

(this is actually written by @keepswingin, who found out i was saving this for a nevermore oneshot and said 'not if i write it first' and kicked me out of my own house)

---

The door creaks as he pushes it open, the room beyond dark and unwelcoming in a way it's never been before. Minho's not used to this - the quiet, the lack of unopened snacks sprawled throughout the room, the absence of clothes, of beanies, of half-finished verses scribbled hastily on scraps of paper or napkin or an old thank you card from a sponsor. 

The room used to be alive with his memory. Now it just sits, a void of their own making, because attempting to do anything otherwise was something Minho couldn't bring himself to do. Not then, not after, and certainly not now, even if it was the company forcing him to be in here after threatening of doing it themselves. And Minho would never let them do something like this themselves. Not now, not ever, not when it was something that concerned Jisung of all people. 

"Is this it?" she asks, attempting to peer over his shoulder. She's a ball of energy wrapped with anxiety, he could tell from the moment he met her, and he had hated it. Hated how it reminded him of Jisung, hated how it reminded him that the world around him would keep spinning even if his own had stopped still. 

"Yes," he whispers, willing his voice to stay steady. 

He takes a step inside, and can't stop his chest from hitching, the soft exhale that leaves him breathless. The bed is made, stripped of old sheets. The shelves are empty, the desk pushed into the biggest corner wiped clean and prepared with a brand new laptop sitting on top. 

She brushes past him gently and comes to a stop in the middle of the room, eyes flickering across what awaits her. Her hands squeeze into fists beside her, and Minho hears her chest hitch too, but when she turns to him, there is nothing but excitement glittering in her eyes. 

"Thank you," she says, even taking the time to bow. Minho can't bring himself to react, at least not when he's frozen like this, unable to form anything close to words as the odd feeling in his chest tightens more. "I'm so grateful your company is providing me with this opportunity, and that you guys are being so welcoming." 

She watches him for a long moment, and if she's waiting for Minho to say something, he can't, he can't, not when he's in Jisung's room with someone else and Jisung hasn't been here in months, and the last thing Minho ever said to him was something he never should have said at all, and then he was gone, they were all gone, and Minho and the rest of them were - 

"Minho-ssi?"

- left behind.

Minho blinks. He feels like he wants to scream, or cry, or not speak for a long while. "I'm sorry," he whispers, turning towards the door. "Please let us know if you need anything." He closes the door behind him just breathes a for a moment, before pressing his forehead to the wood and closing his eyes. 

He can pretend that it's Jisung shuffling around inside if he closes his eyes.

o

The room is a mess of wires and cameras as he sits off to the side in a lonesome chair, allowing a crew member of the channel they're interviewing for to clip a microphone onto the collar of his shirt. The man doesn't say much as he does, and Minho doesn't really pay attention as he leaves, his mind beginning to drift as he watches someone else struggle with fixing Seungmin's shirt in front of him.

He gets lost in a mind a lot these days, and sometimes he doesn't even realize he's lost until one of the members is gently tugging his attention back to the present, a soft look here, a gentle touch there. Too nice, for someone like Minho, who is the barbed wire thrown over a fence long forgotten. Sharp edges and a sharper tounge, once upon a time. Now, he feels like something lost in the wind, far from home. 

"Okay, we're ready to start!" The director announces, walking into the middle of the set and clapping his hands together. "I'd like to go over a few things before we begin." 

And then he waits, eyes scanning the room, like he's looking for someone in particular. He is, because he wants the leader of the group, the one in charge of Stray Kids as a whole, and Minho doesn't realize that he's talking about him until Hyunjin is beside him and gently tugging him up from the chair. 

Minho turns to him, something hot prickling in his throat. He would spit an insult, before. Now, he simply presses his lips together and allows Hyunjin to walk him over to the director with a stiff smile. 

The director waits patiently as Hyunjin apologizes on Minho's behalf, and then the older man launches into what he expects from the shoot, among some other things. Minho doesn't really listen, simply nodding his head when needed. 

He forgets to speak up, sometimes. When they're filming or out at an event that is mostly spoken in a different language he doesn't care about enough to learn. But he's had to learn, and he's had to lead, and none of it ever makes sense in his head because all he wants to do is lock himself in Jisung's room and never come back out. 

Sometimes he even goes as far as pretending that Chan is still around, only for that cavern in his chest to grow wider when he turns and finds he was never there to begin with. 

"What do you think?" the director asks, curious tone cutting through Minho's thoughts. "You know your group best." 

This isn't my group, he nearly corrects, mouth forming Chan's name like second nature. But Chan isn't here, and Chan isn't the leader of Stray Kids anymore. Lee Minho is the one in charge of the five original members, and the three new ones. 

("To keep the name relevant," a higher up had said to Minho as soon as he had asked about two girls joining with only one new boy, instead of keeping them as an all boy group. "Sales are down, and the media has finally stopped talking about the other three. We need to send a positive message of acceptance in these trying times.")

There's a rope cutting into his chest. He can't breathe. Hyunjin squeezes his shoulder, thumb pressing against his skin hard enough to hurt. It keeps him from crying. He's thankful he doesn't cry. He's not supposed to cry. 

Chan was never supposed to leave. 

"Whatever you think works best."

o

The studio is cold and bare of the energy it used to have when Changbin would be there alongside the other two, spitting curses or lyrics or swatting at whoever had decided to make fun of him in the moment. Now it's home to a revolving door of producers that Minho never likes. 

Some bring lyrics that are too disconnected for singles. Others merely want to pander to the girls, offering them notes that Seungmin and Jeongin were more than capable of nailing themselves. The b-sides don't flow like they used to, and far too many of them are disjointed and heavy in rapping that's too heavy for songs meant to be light. 

The chorography is the only thing that stays the same after all this time, the one thing Minho can still throw himself into without having to think. He's given Hyunjin and Felix more work to do in having to train two girls with left feet, though the new guy wasn't too bad, but they never complained. 

"Good," this producer tells him, waving a hand with a small smile. "That's all your lines." 

Minho wants to say something, anything. He wants to record the whole thing, strain his letters less, hit that note like how he should be able to. But the words well up in his throat, and nothing comes out. 

He nods, and murmurs his thanks as he pulls the headset off. 

The booth is too quiet. The producer is too quiet. 

Everything is too quiet without a voice to tie all of it together. 

o

He stands on the bridge and watches the boats as they pass underneath him, the wind stinging at his cheeks. Every breath fills his chest with cold air, and it keeps him here, and awake, and alive, as he watches the lights of the city blink and flicker in the distance. 

Minho had brought Jisung here, years ago. They had talked for hours, standing on the edge of the universe, even if it was nothing more than the pathway of a bridge. He had smiled so much that his cheeks had hurt, and Jisung's laughter had been the sweetest thing he had ever heard. Minho had hugged him - pulled him close and buried his face in the crook of his neck, stayed there until forever was something he thought possible. 

"I'll never forget you," he whispers against the next breeze, hoping it will carry his words to wherever they were, wherever Jisung was. "I don't think I ever could." An exhale that rattles his bones. "I don't want to." 

He closes his eyes. Listens to the wind, and the waves, and the beat of his own heart. 

Something warm wraps around him, squeezing him tight. It feels like someone he knows. He doesn't open his eyes, afraid to shatter whatever illusion his mind has created this time. And then a hitch of breath, and a small, raspy voice, whispering close to his ear. 

"You don't have to." 

[inconsideratekidney]

10/9/24

hey guys,

something's wrong with my computer. it can barely run all my chrome tabs anymore like it used to. it still functions i suppose, but its very slow and doesn't charge with this one charger i have--my backup charger. i bring this one around so i don't have to bring my big one. the big one that is like my only dependable charger apparently. this backup charger works on my phone and my tablet, but my laptop just won't accept it as a charger for whatever reason. it's super cool and lights up when it's plugged into a power source. it's got 3 different offshoots for usb-c, lightning cable, and something else idk what it's called but it's like an hdmi-shaped version of the lightning cable sized one. anyway, who cares about all that. my laptop has not turned on while the cable is plugged in and it pisses me off so much. i wish my laptop would finally explode like it wants to so i can get a new one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

im not really sure what kind of audience is actually reading my blogs. i know most don't keep up, cuz its a blog and no one wants to read about someones personal life go on and on, but it is very therapeutic for me. i honestly dgaf who reads it or doesn't. just that i have a place to put my thoughts. i would love feedback or any kind of response literally, like idc what, i like to have conversations with ppl so if u want to go ahead. ill try to stop asking, but i feel like ppl don't feel right doing it or are straight up just not reading any of this. who knows. womp womp.

speaking of which, the things i write about are the kinds of topics i want to talk about with ppl, but are the ones that ppl dont stay on for too long. what i mean to say is that i can bring something up and not have the time to say it all, or the interest of the other person to listen; wait; then let me finish my thoughts, and then actually want a response from them. i often find myself wanting someone to just listen to me go on and on, and most ppl can't stand that or can't stay on the same topic i want to talk about. if i ever do find myself with someone who will let me talk, i'm so conditioned to change the subject for fear that i'm bothering them and sub-consciously/consciously change the subject so i don't lose ppl in conversation.

i had no idea how to recruit "fans" or whatever lol. i had no idea who really wanted to read these blogs. i just find them fun--i'd like to think i'm funny sometimes and that people enjoy what i have to say, so that they can read into what i'm thinking about on their own time. i don't have to bother people with my existence in a conversation back and forth if they don't want to. if you can't stand my writing u can just click away. it's not a big deal. my whole thing is that if you really did want to respond, i'd be down to have a chat with you. i feel satisfied after getting this all out that i can decide to respond or not once i'm done because i've already gotten my thoughts out without being interrupted. you don't watch me type or see my edits, you only see the final product and that puts me at ease a bit. when i speak out loud, i typically say everything i'm thinking or not enough. often i say the wrong thing and people are quick to jump in and ask for clarification or even correct me. i'm not finished. many ppl aren't patient anymore and it's frustrating when my brain doesn't function the way most peoples brains do.

i think of something, then i think "why the hell did that pop into my head? what on earth is this related to?" trick question--its never related to anything most times. my brain just picks up on slight things in my environment and misconstrues them as something relevant to some memory and brings one up, or comes up with something new. i'd assume most people think like that. i just don't know how to explain that to ppl in conversation when were talking about one thing, or we're not talking at all and i just bring something up. that's when it makes sense to me. typically i think of everything at once so it's all relevant to me.

i like this shark. going in circles endlessly in one small space. he knows he can't go anywhere, but maybe he likes it. it's safe, reliable, and cushiony. i put the shark here for our entertainment, but i wont release him (cuz i will forget) but he shall remain happy or maybe he's hitting his head against the walls, thinking "when will she stop yapping" idk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

im sweating like a madwoman. make it stoppppp. i was trying to experiment by not wearing deodorant/antiperspirant to see if it was all in my head and it is not. it's quite real and i hate it. i hate sweating so much. i don't sweat in my hands or back. just my armpits and private bits (it's really just my thighs lol). i wanna lose weight tbh. i hate my thighs rubbing together, it hurts when i'm wearing shorts and they just slide up and chafe. ugh i get so uncomfortable thinking about it. also my body just gets hot. it's just so annoying. i feel like this hyperhydrosis condition really spiked when i entered college. that's when i really noticed it first a least. my mom has it and i've been trying all different deodorants and antiperspirants with her, but i still sweat regardless. i think she said some work for her for a bit, but then don't again. i think lumē worked for her but just smells weird. who knows. maybe i'll try mens deodorant or antiperspirant. i don't want to throw out my current one cuz yk, money, but it ain't working...

idkkkkk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in the time i've written this, the charger still isn't working and even when i hold down the power button there's no response from my conputer to even tell me it's dead. i'm concerned but still couldn't care less. its not fanning bc i let it stop before it turned off. i think it just died and this charger isn't working. i sure hope it works when i get home tho. fuck this shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this body positivity movement related to hair on women is progressing more i think. i haven't researched it or anything, but i notice more ppl than i did before who seem female presenting or have feminine features to have body hair and i love to see it. it's still very scarce, but this is only one place in the world. ofc my hometown there's like no one and my mother makes fun of me all the damn time, so i never forget it. i just wish it didn't look so bad. like i don't care about it cosmetically in the sense that women shouldn't have it cuz it looks bad or cuz its not feminine, but i just don't think it ever matches my outfits. it pisses me off kinda. i don't feel like i give off hairy vibes. maybe i do. those aren't the vibes i wanna put out there. but see in that mindset, i'm stereotyping myself and still have the same schema. "what they're wearing is weird that doesn't match what i assume their style is!" type shit. i don't enjoy this mindset and it comes along with other stereotypical, generalizing mindsets i still have from growing up and am still trying to eradicate, but dang its hard.

i also study peoples behavior and people watch to learn and copy whats socially acceptable. so believe me when i say, it's fucking hard having hairy legs when it's still not common everywhere i go. it's kind of a fucking nightmare sometimes. and i know i sound like "oh, woe is me!" and sometimes i do feel like that, but its because i don't see enough representation--thats another reason why i do it. my real reason is that i don't care to keep up with shaving and i don't want to do it bc i feel like i have to. i don't feel like i want to, so i just don't. if one day i wake up and feel like shaving, then damnit i will. but i don't need anyone's approval or advice on it. i'm angry bc of what my mother says to me, so this is mainly directed towards the comments she's made, and my father, hell, both of em. i'm not taking this outta thin air. there are ppl attacking me, it's my family...

that's the funny thing. i haven't gotten any backlash from a single other person. funny... if they keep it to themselves, wonderful! i honestly don't care what they think, but do care that they are being considerate.

anyshways, thats why i don't love socks that pull on the hair and why i feel awkward in tank tops and short shirts cuz i still haven't gotten over the socially different part yet. this is revolutionizing for me even if it isn't for anyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

if you actually read everything so far, you're cool, but if you're at the end and readin this, you're still cool but u just don't know what i said. i'll sum it up for you-

tdlr (i hate myself):

- computer bout to shit itself

- i have social anxiety and am a clinical yapper

- computer still boutta die

- ahh scary! hair on woman!!

youre here now.

yipee!!

i'll try to post Tuesdays through Thursdays i have decided. try to check then if u can....

love yall,

kD :p

[slityclayloam]

Sometimes I like looking up dyspraxia on google or tumblr as it makes me feel better seeing others like me, but like everytime I am violently reminded just how much it seeps into my everyday life.

Like I have decent movement, I can't remember the last time I fell over and I rarely bump into things. I can now wear turtle neck jumpers without feeling like I'm being strangled. I can type fast on my laptop and rarely have to look at the keys. I can drive, parallel park and reverse park. I can even now catch stuff thrown at me like 9/10 times! All of this is because I've been working on those skills for 19 years, both by myself and through speech and physiotherapy between the ages of 5 and 9.

But then I still have major issues organising my life, I have problems going to appointments and responding to emails. My main emotion everyday is to feel unemotional and when I do feel a real, strong emotion I have a hard time showing it, often apperaing neutral or like I don't care. I still don't fully get some social concepts. My memory can be really dodgy. My handwriting is quick and spidery as it hurts my hand to write slowly and neatly and I can't use anything but cheap gel pens as anything else will smudge. I still drop food on myself or the table daily. I'm still nervous carrying mugs of tea or coffee around, in fact I actually refuse point blank to carry trays of food in cafes, as I worry so much about dropping them and I find the weight and instability difficult to handle. I get tired easily and find it hard to stand in the kitchen and cook for more than half an hour before I just end up in pain, I can't use can openers and I have a hard time chopping food. I really like doing craft stuff with my hands but I find it so hard to continue with that craft stuff as it always comes out looking horrible and I just don't have the patience to continue.

It is hard living in a constant uphill battle, with everyone around you getting on with their lives and being so "hyper" organised. But I've managed to grow so much over the years and I hope that one day soon I can move some more of the things on my "I can't do or struggle to do right now" list, and move them into my "success" or "I can just in my own way" list.

[melancholy-marionette]

The Shuddering Releasing Later Tonight (hopefully x3) - then I will go cry myself to sleep T_T

Sooo, I'm gonna do my best to still release my O2A2 project later tonight like I'd hoped to, buuuut, my PC is now defunct AGAIN >.< Firstly, *puts on happy face* meet Styx! Voiced by the incredible - Vivian Reed :D

Styx may have a feminine appearance with an androgynous (but feminine-leaning) voice, but, being non-human, doesn't actually have a gender!

Styx is the only entity you'll encounter in The Shuddering, and is almost a little too pleased to see you!

*reverts back to sad face*

Sooo, yeah, I currently don't have a working PC again T_T Thankfully, I was able to export builds of The Shuddering prior to it becoming unusable, but if there are any bugs, I won't have a way of fixing them :(

I'm now attempting to finish off the itch page & draft posts on the old potato laptop once again!

This is the 2nd new PC that's been sent to me after the 1st one was faulty and had to be returned, and as of yesterday morning, it is stuck in an endless cycle of BSODs with all different error codes. During troubleshooting, the memory diagnostics tool also flags critical errors with the RAM. The 2nd PC has been kinda dodgy since day 1 with it randomly failing to boot some days + audio crashing randomly and then refusing to play any media files with sound. It also hangs randomly when just browsing Windows Explorer.

I did contact customer support to try and get help with the issues, but they just told me to do a CMOS reset, which sounded terrifying >.< I don't wanna touch any of the components inside the PC cos I worry I would break them!

Since I was in the middle of otome/josei jam, I just left things as they were and did my best to put up with the weird crap going on with the PC, making backups each night out of paranoia. My hope was that I would make it through the jam okay and that maybe the issues would improve somehow. But nope, they just got worse >.< Now I'm stuck with a PC I can't even use. Sometimes it refuses to boot entirely, others, it boots, but then only stays on for 5-20 minutes before it dies again. I spent most of the day (and night) troubleshooting, but nothing helps.

Customer support says it's probably gonna be a case of sending it back again for repair... but I would really just prefer to have a refund at this point :( They've sent out 2 now that don't work properly. Why would I have any faith left that a 3rd would be better?

I just want my money back so I can buy a PC from somewhere else that might actually send one that works. Actually getting the company to refund me is going to be a battle though I imagine. One that I'm really too tired to fight :( I don't have a choice though because the stupid thing took me years to save up for, so I don't have the luxury of just letting it go.

I swear I should have just demanded a refund right away when the first one they sent me sounded like a goblin revving up a chainsaw was living inside the case as soon as you powered it on >.<"

Anyways, sorry, just needed to vent because I'm stressed and devastated at the moment by it all. It took so long to transfer all my files and stuff over, and I've lost a small amount of project data for both LOVESTARVED & The Shuddering :( My paranoia backups mean most stuff is safe for now, but it's still frustrating to lose anything.

Here's to hoping the poor potato can at least hold out to launch The Shuddering later! x3 But first, I need a big break because I feel sick at this point, haha.

[bellygunnr]

prompt: Bonnie treats Kitt3 right

Some discretion was taken with this. Mostly the ABS and such-- gotta assume that KITT and KI3T have the whole nightmare, even in the 80s. Bonnie isn't too flabbergasted by the tech because KITT is, as they say, the car of the future.

"KITT, turn your wheel all the way to the right, please."

KITT-- Three Thousand-- turns his wheel all the way to the right. Immediately, hands are all over his frame again, untangling the brake line from the wheel hub assembly. He uses a portion of his sophisticated sensory suite to watch Bonnie work, even as her face screws up in consternation, her most common expression since beginning maintenance.

And what maintenance it is! She's propped him up on jackstands and wooden blocks. It is a far cry from the gyroscopic, laser-equipped armory he's used to. It gives him time to reflect on what he considers normal. As it turns out, if a human is involved with his care, it is through a laptop.

But laptops do not exist here. And this time, his failure is... physical.

"You seem perturbed, Dr. Barstow," he says quietly.

Bonnie's face scrunches up. She fusses at the knot of sensors dangling from his front left wheel. With him unable to power down, it is a mess of data, all of it erroneous. But--

Not unwelcome.

"Not-- perturbed, KITT," she says, echoing him. "Just can't make heads or tails of what's going on here. Pretty sure it's not supposed to look like this, though. Is it?"

She brandishes some of the cables underneath his chassis. A curious location, but not useless. And it seems practiced, or at least embedded in muscle memory, as her shoulders drop several inches. Confusion is always so fascinating on humans. It's enough to soothe his irritation at his fouled eyes; the plastic sheathing has melted together.

"No, it is not. It appears I have melted the bulk of my wheel speed sensors on this side."

His fault. The 1974 Mustang II form he'd adopted had been, as Mike would say, slapped together. And consolidating all of his functions into such a tight package was, ah.

Not what he was designed to do.

Bonnie brushes her fingers across a piece of his subframe. It shouldn't feel like anything, but the nanoskin is more sensitive than usual like this. And it's a wholly novel experience. Humans do not touch him often.

It is... undeniably a positive impact.

Eventually, she pushes herself up to a standing position, silent.

KITT watches her raptly.

"Want me to see if any of, uh, KITT's parts will fit?" Bonnie asks finally. Once again, she seems 'put out', clearly trying to come up with a solution and finding none.

"I do not wish to impose. If my databanks are correct, replacement parts for my predecessor were... expensive. Nearly a quarter of the Foundation's budg--"

Her face goes gray. Wisely, he ceases speaking, because he likes her. If it'd been anyone else...

"Don't remind me. Jesus. Okay. Look, let me just see if they'll fit, okay?"

"Of course," KITT says. "I am not going anywhere."

Bonnie laughs and ducks out of the trailer. His analyzer reads it as 'slightly hysterical.' Perhaps the circumstances are painful for both of them.

[betweenthings2]

because i couldn’t choose between the cuddle prompts i went to the other list, the general prompts, and i would love to read 8 (the best friend one) for m&g if you would like to write it! <3

Thank you for the ask!! I don't actually know how this got so long or so angsty, but such is life, I suppose.

8. "You were my best friend before you were anything else, love."

As a rule, Matty tries not to be too nostalgic about things. The therapists he's had over the years have encouraged him to live in the present and his life is good now. He wants to enjoy it, not get caught in the past, in hazy memories that are largely a mixed bag in terms of positivity. There are a lot of things that Matty could be nostalgic about, though, which makes it hard sometimes. There are two things Matty does allow himself to be a little bit nostalgic about: the band and his relationship with George. Still, he tries to frame those as fond memories, rather than nostalgia.

Today, though, it's legitimate nostalgia. He's seeing the past in washes of pink. He's not strung out and petrified that someone will find out or that he'll kill himself, he's having fun, exploring. George isn't begging him to get help, isn't terrified that he won't wake up, but relaxed and happy. There's no sense of impending doom in these memories, no sense of futility, no desperation, no terror, just happiness, excitement.

The past year, too, gets washed in shades of pink in Matty's mind. His memories leave out the panic attacks, the sudden struggle to eat, the seemingly endless bad days, the tabloid articles accusing him of being every horrible thing under the sun, the hate on social media. Instead, he has the sold-out, critically acclaimed shows, the accolades, the love. He has George, in expensive hotel rooms, wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets. He has George, smoking out the window because they're too lazy to go outside, George, sneaking quiet moments together in empty dressing rooms and bathrooms, George, walking next to him to explore mostly unfamiliar cities on days off. The wash of pink hide the fact that those soft sheets saw more tears than sex, that they smoked out the window because Matty couldn't calm down enough to go outside, that the empty dressing rooms were venues for panic attacks, not quickies, and George stayed by his side to explore wherever they were because there was an unspoken agreement that Matty shouldn't be alone.

Matty knows all of those bad things are there, under the wash of pink, which makes it all the more upsetting that he remembers things that way. He tries to be a realist, generally, though he knows he's prone to both idealism and pessimism, sometimes in the same breath. Matty kind of hates that about himself. Actually, he kind of hates a lot of things about himself, and he has the sneaking suspicion that he's not a very good person, especially after the year he's had.

But there's George, sitting on the other end of the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, occasionally glancing at Matty like a lovesick fool. Matty isn't entirely sure when he and George crossed the line from friends to lovers. A long time ago, yeah, but when exactly, Matty isn't sure. What he is sure of is that he loves George and that he's pretty sure he doesn't say it often enough.

"I love you," Matty says quietly, glancing up from the book he's been staring at but not reading so he can look at George. "I don't think I say that often enough. I'm trying to do better. I'm always trying to do better." Matty pauses, then, "Sometimes I worry that if I don't do better you'll realize I’m actually awful."

"Matthew, love," George murmurs. "That's not at all true."

Matty shrugs. "Sometimes I think it is. I got ripped to fuckin' shreds in the press this year. I ran a lot of people off. People didn't want to associate with us because they didn't want to associate with me because I can't think before I say things."

"The press is unreliable," George tries, setting his laptop on the coffee table. "They takes things out of context and publish whatever gives them a good headline."

Matty shrugs. "I'm just saying.

"Matty," George murmurs. "I know you. I love you."

"Yeah, but there's a difference between knowing someone as a partner and knowing someone as a friend. People who get to know me as a friend leave because I'm awful."

"You were my best friend before you were anything else, love," George says. "You are my best friend. I know exactly who you are."

"'s not the same," Matty argues.

"I know you, Matthew," George repeats. "I've loved you for fifteen years. You've been my best friend for twenty years."

"I don't think I'm a very good person," Matty admits, gaze fixed on his own knees. There's a hole in his sweatpants. "I keep trying to do better, to be better, and then I fuck it up."

"That's not true. You and I both know that's not true."

"I think it is," Matty argues, standing firm. Really, every time he has this conversation with George, and they have it with relative regularity, his resolve doesn't last long and he lets George convince him, but he also hates relenting.

"Matty," George starts, "look at me, Matthew." When Matty glances up, he continues, "You are beloved. I adore you. You're so kind and wonderful and open to all of our fans. You care about people and believe in people. You give. You help. You want to help. You want to make a difference. Bad people don't do any of those things."

Matty shrugs and drops his gaze back to his knees. He feels naked. No, more than naked, he feels flayed, like the very core of his being is on display. Nothing George has said is untrue, but it doesn't dispel the lingering feeling that he's wrong.

"What're you thinking about?" George asks.

"Everything," Matty admits. "But I leave out all the shitty things I've done, but I know the shitty things I've done, I know the times I've made you cry and you don't cry and I think I must be awful if I've done that to someone I love."

George lets out a long breath, then admits, "I have cried more over you than anything else, but that doesn't make you awful. You were unwell. That's not your fault. Would you blame me if the roles were reversed?"

Matty shakes his head.

"I adore you, no matter what," George adds. "You're my best friend. You've always been my best friend. I don't want anyone who isn't you."

Matty glances up and in a wet voice asks, "Even if I'm kinda shit sometimes?"

George nods. "No matter what," he says. "I promise."