#and also i don't even want to start on packing.......

[ashrikesthorn]

so this is really old and also pls note i now work from home and that has had me falling off the wagon, but i thought this might help people who drive to work and hate their job and their life with making these things happen (i went 6 days a week for 3-4 months after having never gone to the gym except for maybe a handful of times in like 30 years):

i wanted to change careers (i did, not to what i was planning) and the career i wanted was much more physical, so the 'why' of going to the gym was 'getting the fuck out of this hellscape of a job' and that was a really powerful motivator for me - so get yourself a why, and make it a good one

i found a pre-made workout plan that i literally just looked at before i started working out and did that - i have NO knowledge of gyms or equipment and most of what i was doing was body weight/treatmill/light weights. i had a friend who worked at the gym so i had a non-scary intro to the equipment they had and it was pretty limited so i felt okay about it

i drove past the gym on the way home - my route took me past it so it was kinda like ok this is my stop before home and i made it my routine

i bought a pass that was annual so i felt kinda financially motivated to utilize that thing

i meal prepped (literally the same 3 breakfast/lunch/dinners every day) every sunday by placing a grocery order and then cooking huge batches of 3 meals and then splitting it up - this was actually incredible and the simplicity of it for someone who does not like to cook and is a big snacker was amazing **note: this is the book i used, i found it for free in my lobby one day and just picked three things and that was it, this isn't an affiliate or whatever i just pressed share but the book is 'The No Meat Athlete' by Matt Frazier and Stepfanie Romine if you want something that helped feel satiating and was tasty https://a.co/d/5kS9oz6

i bought a protein powder and a pre-workout that supplemented the pre-gym slump (omg pre-workout is INSANE) and post-gym hunger, and i used the absolutely brutal aggression i had from hating my job as motivation, it was really really helpful

i kept a packed duffel bag in my car at all times so i wouldn't forget anything (changed the dirty clothes for clean in the evening and left it by the door so i wouldn't forget it in the morning)

lastly, i really had to reframe my thinking about gyms and health - i was doing this for me and i FELT my body improve its wellness, it was astounding. i learned to adjust when i was on my period or having a really low mental-health day and allowed that for myself, and i still saw results

the most important parts for me were driving past the gym (i kid you not, if i don't drive past i will not go, i know it's terrible but i can really talk myself out of anything) and having meal-prepped food - i truly could not do it and cook every night, it just wasn't gonna happen

anyway, if anyone reads this and finds it helpful that's awesome, i have lost a lot of my muscle mass and mobility in the last 6 months but this coming week i'm starting up again and i'm really excited for that, i genuinely never felt better and i understood how people started to become ~gym people~ (y'all i was looking at WEIGHTED VESTS....madness)

good luck, friends, i'm wishing you the best <3

how the hell do people work full time AND work out. and also eat. i feel like a dvd player

[corpseontheloose]

Balcony

summary: in which Nam-gyu comes home from work at a late hour just to find you on the balcony

Pairing: Nam-gyu x f!reader in a domestic life

A/N: this is so rushed and also I wrote this while being half asleep and semi conscious at 2 in the morning?? Might be messy

Story notes: just bcz it might be confusing for some, Nam-gyu works the night shifts while reader works during the day. So he sleeps during the day and wakes up during evening. Vice-versa with the reader. When Nam-gyu gets home, he gets at least 1 hour to cuddle with the reader before he falls asleep and wakes up without her. And when he's about to leave for work, that's the hour reader comes home usually.

Warnings: sweet Nam-gyu, domestic life, 18+ due to cigarettes/smoking, mention of alcohol

You and Nam-gyu were close to each other, almost too close. It 'wow-ed' people at how dependent he was of you. And vice-versa, of course.

They knew him, not perfectly, but enough to create different rumors about him. It's not something new, it's been happening ever since he started working at the club.

They'd claim they saw you in the grocery shop with him, in the park, at the café. And they were damn right. He's almost every day at every hour with you. When he's not working, that is. He just loves doing activities with you, and knowing you're close to him, even if that meant a simple thing, like a grocery shop stop during the night when you were both hungry and craving something sweet... Like pocky sticks for example (👀)

Half of the city knew him from his job, and how he put up a completely different personality and face when he was working. It was kind of a shock when they saw him calm, kind and soft towards you during a shopping day where you looked through the shelves, counting the grams of whatever you wanted to buy

He held the shopping basket for you, towering over you and calmly waiting until you decided if that's what you needed to get or not. He loved watching you.

"Do you think we need two or three sugar packs? I don't want the cake to be too sweet, but I can't risk making it too bland either"

He was so mesmerized. His eyes never left you whenever you were too focused on getting what you need.

"I think two is enough. Three would probably make it too sweet and...I have a second desert right here, already. I wouldn't want my blood sugar level to explode"

However, Nam-gyu was a completely different person when it came to his workplace.

He was more focused on being there, in the moment. Especially because he was surrounded by loud music and a thousand number of drinks. He had to hype up the place, make sure everyone was having fun and, when it came to serious problems, he needed to sort things out with a straight face and no sympathy.

A lot of people viewed him as the heart of the party. He was loud, insane even. No one left the club without a drop of alcohol in them.

He usually worked until late. Which wasn't as bad as it sounded since he got the whole day to rest until another night came by.

During his free days, he likes to take up on the opportunity of getting to cuddle with you all night and sometimes even keeping you awake to catch up with what's been happening with the two of you lately.

Tonight was unexpected though.

Keys rattled softly as they slightly hit the door while he tried to unlock it.

He usually found you curled up in your shared bed, holding onto the pillow or having the blanket over your head as you slept peacefully, waiting for your clock to hit the alarm ring and wake you up for work.

Why would tonight be different?

Maybe because you got a day off, and maybe because you missed your boyfriend so heavily that it made you stay up late. Because the moment he inserted those keys in the keyhole, your head snapped over your shoulder

He was surprised to see you in the living room's balcony, scattered on the floor with a half smoked cigarette in between your fingers

You were both silent. It's like the entire scene would break apart if you talked. Instead, you just inhaled each other's presence from a few feet apart until Nam-gyu decided to go and change

You knew he was going to come back, join you and sit with you until sunrise. You knew your boyfriend too well.

A few minutes passed and suddenly, with heavy steps from across the bedroom to your living room, Nam-gyu rushed to take his spot in front of you on the balcony

He looked at you, silently. And smiled.

"couldn't sleep?" he asks in a low tone, just above a whisper

You looked into his eyes before taking another drag of your cigarette, blowing the smoke lazily before sharing your cig with him.

"Had a day off. Couldn't really think of anything else other than you and... Others..." you whispered back.

"What's others?"

He took a drag before passing it to you once again.

You shrugged quickly, taking another drag of the nicotine

"Work. 'S been stressful lately. And we barely see each other anymore...Wanted to get things off my mind for a bit"

He understands it completely. Whenever he woke up to an empty bed, pits in the stomach formed and twisted as he got ready for his own shift, knowing yours is already almost over

You rarely ran into each other as he was about to leave for work; you'd be arriving at home.

"It's like we're ghosts. We live together, but almost never see eye to eye"

You chuckled at your own bittersweet words, finishing the cigarette. You took a quick glimpse in your pack, realising that was your last.

Nam-gyu noticed the empty pack as well, before sliding his own slowly to you, his eyes never leaving you.

You slightly smiled before opening it and taking another stick

He knew yours weren't as strong as his, he had heavy taste, while yours were modest, sometimes elegant and exquisite. Whenever you got the chance, you'd also buy minty ones. A bit more expensive, but something that lingers it's taste on your tongue that drove Nam-gyu crazy.

"I miss my boyfriend" you whispered, taking a long drag, trying to burn down the sentiments along with it.

He looked at you, almost guilty. He knew it wasn't his fault, that you weren't accusing him. It was your schedules that mixed so painfully unwell together

"I, do too, miss you..." he replied, lighting up his own cig.

And then silence fell over them again. But not the kind of silence that makes you go crazy, makes you suffocate and gasp for air, clawing for oxygen as you feel the life sucked up from you. It was the kind that settled in peacefully. It was mutual understanding and longing

Surprisingly, the streets of Korea were radically empty, considering it was almost time for people to wake up and leave for work.

And Nam-gyu looked at you, wishing, praying for more minutes with you like this before you decided it was time for bed.

It was so beautiful. How the dark blue sky showed off clear, with no cloud, as the moon went down slowly, making some space for the sun to rise.

How the colors blended together so perfectly that the yellows and oranges strike in your hair,as the last sparks of the moon shined in his eyes.

It made sense.

"Come here.." he whispered as he stood up and crouched down just for a moment, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to bed as you held onto his neck.

You loved the feeling of him holding you like this. It made you desire the day you're going to get married, the day he'll carry you like this in front of everyone, showing off his undying love for you.

[milatiny-xx]

perfect person | k.ys

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader summary: yeosang's been MIA all day, and you're worried. when you show up to the studio to check on him, he snaps at you. now, it's late and he's at your place, ready to apologize. (requested) warnings: hurt/comfort, sangie yelling at reader, i think that's it! wc: 1.7k a/n: dang y'all yeosang is getting so much attention on this blog i love it (◕‿◕✿). i also feel like he's such a sweet angel, when he gets upset i imagine he's feeling realllly bad. requests are also open if y'all have needs!

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

You reach for your phone again, anxiously clicking onto your messages with Yeosang. You swipe down to refresh the screen again, but nothing. He hasn't replied in almost eight hours, and you're starting to get worried. It's not like him to be non-responsive. Even when he's at practice, he usually texts back within an hour or two.

You know he's been working hard trying to prepare for his solo project. It's a single—just one song, but he's poured his heart and soul into it. The single and its corresponding MV are scheduled to drop in one week. He's been spending extra hours at the studio lately to practice the choreo for the video.

You don't want to bother him, of course, but part of you wants to call. Maybe if you just call the studio? No...you shouldn't. You don't want to disturb him or embarrass him by being a helicopter partner.

So, you click your phone off and distract yourself with other things—dinner, shower, tv. But when another hour passes, and he still hasn't answered, it feels like you don't have a choice.

You shove some of the leftover food into containers and grab your keys before ducking out the door to drive over to the studio.

When you arrive, you scan the ID badge Yeosang had gotten for you. It's quiet inside, dark. No one seems to be at the studio. You weave your way around the hallways, careful not to bump into any corners. You've been to the studio countless times before to bring the boys snacks or if Yeosang happened to forget something at your place.

You probably packed too much food. The containers are heavy and a little awkward to carry. You have to stop once to readjust it on your knee.

The faint sound of bass leads you to Studio Room B. You peer through the tiny rectangle window in the door and smile when Yeosang comes into view. He's dressed in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You can see his dried sweat and mussed hair from outside the room.

You knock quietly on the door, not wanting to disturb him. When he doesn't respond, you knock louder. Still focused. You chuckle to yourself and gently reach for the door. You pop it open just a crack.

"Sangie?" you say quietly, peeking your head through the crack in the door. "Yeosang?"

He's distracted, fully focused on the choreography. A camera is set up on tripod across from him. He must be filming a practice video. As quietly as you can, you step into the room. You try to balance the containers of food on your knee while you push the heavy door closed, but a pair of chopsticks slides off the top and hits the floor with a quiet ping.

A scream of frustration escapes from Yeosang's throat. You freeze as he whirls around to glare at you. You grimace.

"Ooh, sorry," you say.

"This is the thousandth time I'm retaking this!" he shouts, voice echoing off the walls and filling the small space completely. "What are you doing here?"

You recoil a little, startled by his tone. Yeosang never yells...like ever. And he's certainly never shouted at you like this. His eyes are narrow and sharp, eyebrows knitted harshly over them. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, and his jaw is clenched tightly. You set the containers down and kneel to pick up the chopsticks.

"Oh, Sangie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I was just worried. I texted this morning and hadn't heard from you. I thought you might be hungry, so I brought yo-"

"Can't you see I'm busy?!" he snaps. "Now I have to start over. Again."

He doesn't even wait for you to respond, just turns his back on you and walks up to the camera. Your eyes follow his frame as your gut wrenches. You feel the sting of tears but blink them away defiantly. You scoot the containers toward the wall and stand.

"Well, I'm sorry," you repeat, tone soft but firm. Your voice shakes as you say, "I just thought you might be hungry, so I made you dinner. If you have time for it."

You turn quickly to escape out the door. When you lift your head to find the doorknob, you catch his reflection through the mirror on the wall. His eyes are glassy, mouth downturned, eyebrows knitted. His mouth is popped open. His hand is outstretched. It's almost like a movie scene that you paused to go get more popcorn; like he's frozen as he tries to reach for you.

Your face contorts in pain just as you slip into the hallway. As soon as the door snaps shut behind you, you're crying. Your chest aches. You climb into the car and speed home, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the sheets and disappear.

And that's exactly what you do. But you don't sleep. You can't. You just lie awake, long after the tears have stopped falling. You feel a little empty. Guilty, though you're not really sure why.

You have no idea what time it is when the door to your bedroom clicks open. You know that it hasn't been very long. Pale yellow light from the hall streams in through a small crack. You already know who it is. Only one person has a key to your place.

He steps so quietly you almost don't hear it. When his weight dips the bed down, it startles you a little. So gently, as if you were a bird, he reaches toward you and places a hand on your shoulder.

"Jagi...are you asleep?" he asks softly.

You don't know exactly what it is that gives you away—your uneven breathing, the twitch of your shoulder when he touches you—but he continues as if he knows you're awake.

"Can we talk? Please?"

You breathe deeply. Then, you roll over and move to sit up, pulling your knees in tight.

"Can...can you look at me?" he asks, voice shaky. "If not, I understand, but I'd really like to see your pretty eyes."

You hesitate, mind spiraling in circles, but eventually force your gaze up to his. And it breaks you, how sweet and how sad he looks.

"I'm sorry," he says, holding your gaze. "I had no right to act like that. I was horrible. I was selfish and impatient and...mean. And I have nothing to say except that I am so, so sorry."

You can already feel your iced-over heart melting. He looks so handsome, as always. His hair is still stuck to his forehead, his cheeks still pink.

"And that the kimbap you made was the most delicious thing I've ever eaten," he suddenly adds.

You can't help it, you giggle. He releases a sigh of relief, and a small grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"You ate it?" you ask sheepishly.

"Mhm."

"All of it?"

"Mhm. Every last grain of rice."

You grin sadly and drop your gaze. A few moments of silence pass before he whispers, "Did you cry?"

You nod, feeling tears welling again as you pity yourself. His expression drops, lips and eyebrows both pushing together. He shakes his head. He leans forward, gently sliding his palms onto your cheeks. He caresses your skin with his thumbs.

"No, no, please don't cry now. Enough of that. I never want you to cry, jagi. And I never, ever want you to cry because of me. Come here. Let me hold my honey."

You eagerly accept his invitation and crawl into his lap. You settle in, and he wraps his strong arms around your body. He kisses the top of your head. You nuzzle against his neck. He smells like sweat and sweet citrus. You breathe him in as he rocks you back and forth.

"What were you working on?" you ask.

"A practice video. KQ asked if I could film one, and my manager said it would be good to promote the solo project. I've been working on it all afternoon. I just...I want it to be perfect."

You tug at his hoodie string.

"Please. Everything you do is perfect, Yeosang. You're perfect."

He chuckles bitterly. You swivel in his grasp so you can look at him, hands braced on his shoulders.

"No. Obviously not," he replies. "Someone who was perfect wouldn't make people they love feel bad, especially not the person they love most in the world."

You smile, feeling heat crawl across your cheeks.

"Hey, perfect people make mistakes sometimes. It's alright, as long as they make up for it."

"Oh? And has your perfect person made up for it?"

You close one eye and press a finger to your lips as if thinking it over seriously.

"Hmmmm...not yet. But he will."

Yeosang smiles, leaning his head against your arm. He presses a kiss onto your skin.

"Ah, I see. Any suggestions for how he could do that?"

"No. I trust him." You smile for a moment. Then, your chest unexpectedly lurches and your expression turns serious. "But, first, I need him to tell me that he knows he can rely on me for anything."

He tilts his head.

"What do you mean? He—I know that."

"Then, you should do it. I just wish you would tell me when things like this are going on. When you feel this way. I can help. Or I can try, at least."

"I don't...I don't want you to worry."

You chuckle, brushing a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"Too late. I worry anyway. But that's what couples do, Sangie. That's what love is—worrying about each other, wanting the best for each other. Please, let me be here when you need me."

He closes his eyes and gulps. He leans into your touch and inhales deeply. When his gaze recenters on yours, he looks hopeful.

"I'll try."

He leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. You melt into him, fingers clutching his muscles for life. When you pull back, he nuzzles your nose.

"Good," you say. Then, a moment later, "But, like, I still want you to make it up to me."

He laughs, kissing you again through a big smile. When he pulls away, his forehead stays stuck to yours.

"Don't worry," he says. "I will."

taglist: @rileylovescats @wooyoungsbrat @estrnrea @strawberrymars98 @elunicornus

[mika-thexd]

I need more mics and drums but BUILDERMAN EDITION ‼️‼️

I'm eating your au up and leaving no crumbs for the others🤭 sorry not sorry

A/n: after your chance fanfic I just HAD TO PROPOSE TO U so this is my proposal to you PLEASE ASAWAHIN MO NA AKO MAHAL 💍💍 @mikkies also my personal headcanon is that he's Filipino idc if it's not canon I DO WHATEVER I WANT

Muilti Instrumentalist! Builderman

The sun was setting as the band packed their belongings together, all of them were physically tired from their performance; Noob was trying hard not to fall asleep, Elliot was stretching his arms, and Dussekar was carrying the equipment that Shedletsky couldn't carry. All of them had their arms slumped, especially Builderman.

They couldn't handle human interaction anymore and would rather drop dead on the floor than speak any longer. Heck! Even Chance; the most talkative person they know shut their mouth up.

But, it was expected of course, since it was their first time performing in a stage.

They were just gonna pack the last set of speakers when someone called out to them. "WAIT" someone shouted, they froze up and turned to look at who was shouting for their attention, the person in question was running towards them with a guitar slung over their shoulders.

Some of them held a groan— they didn't really wanna deal with anyone right now, and their tired forms were evident of that. And you knew that.

And while you were approaching them, they were silently communicating who they wanted to send to talk with you— and they all unanimously agreed that builderman was more suited for that; yes he was tired, but he was more likely to be polite talking to fans— well, limit there of.

When you finally reached them, builderman stepped up to talk to you, but before he could you held out your hand, as if to signal him to wait, and he did, while you regained your breath.

After catching your breath back you slowly stood up from your slumped position and handed your ukelele to him. He was about to protest but you cut him off before he could "I know that you don't wanna deal with fans anymore" you started. Then you looked up, finding a new found confidence and held eye contact "But I'm not here to talk"

"I'm here for you"

A beat of silence passed between you two— a really uncomfortable one that made you realize what you just said "WAIT— no no I don't mean it like that— I meant—" he chuckled at your scrambling and flustered attempt to explain yourself; the kind of chuckle that made butterflies flutter around your stomach, it was hearty, tired, and filled with warmth at the same time.

"It's okay, what do you want me to do?" He asked with a tired smile— the best smile that he could do admist his tiredness, you smiled in returned. "I just want on you guy's signatures on my guitar" you said while taking off your guitar and handing it to him.

Your guitar had a lot of stickers, paint, and laces on it, it was chaotic and aesthetically pleasing at the same time, and he couldn't help but smile unconsciously at the charm of it.

He handled it with care and carried it in his arms with gentleness that made you wonder if he thought that it was made of glass. "Are you a long time fan of ours?" He asked while holding his hand out for a pen. You gave it to him while answering his question, "yeah, how'd you know?"

He smiled and pointed at the first ever poster they released using Chance's printer— it was the same one, but smaller to fit the guitar, you flushed at the revealed fact, not expecting him to notice right away, but I guess it's noticeable when you're the one who made it. "Kinda hard not to when that's literally plastered there" he teased.

You chuckled and shook your head in embarrassment. He smiled and continued to sign your guitar.

He handed you back the guitar, you took it back graciously and gawked at the ingrained initials and at the signature— your one and only dream to be noticed by an artist was finally fulfilled, even though it was just a small band, you still held it near your chest in admiration.

You thanked him and was about to get out to not bother them further, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm gently and handed you something. You tilted your head in confusion but you stopped your tracks anyways to take it along with your pen.

There it was. His initials and his phone number.

You could barely handle your shock and stared at him dumbfounded, he smiled, "you're our first ever fan. It'd be sad not to acknowledge you, isn't it not?" He said while patting your back while you were still in shock, and he can't help but laugh a little at your expression.

"Get safe at home, okay kid?"

After that interaction, you didn't waste any time to spend time with him— with all the band members. You literally couldn't contain your excitement and admiration when you literally got noticed and got the privilege to see them perform behind the stage, and to hear their unreleased songs.

You got close to the band pretty fast; with your energetic and easy going nature, it's not that hard for you.

You always found time to spend time with them and learn about them and their other interests than make music. Yes even two time. They're actually chill and nice once you get to know about them; You found out a lot of things about them, like how Noob crashes out on horror games, how Elliot was actually a part time pizza worker, and how Builderman was actually a half Filipino.

Slowly, you found yourself as their friend than their first ever fan— and yes, they found out that you're actually their first ever fan, the fan that stuck around, the fan that refuse to give up on them.

They loved your stubbornness, your easy going nature, and you in general.

Especially Builderman.

At first, Builderman just had a fascination about you because you were literally their most loyal fan, and also friend. But slowly it turned into something more than that.

Then he noticed the littlest things about you; about how you would bag stickers to stick them on their instruments, at how you would scrunched your nose when your annoyed at something, and how you would tilt your head a little when you're curious or confused about something.

Then all of a sudden he fell, and he fell for you hard.

So hard that he made songs about you, or inspired about you— all of which were in Filipino to make it not suspicious. At how he switched your nickname specifically to "mahal" (love) instead of the usual "kid" and at how he would linger in your hugs.

Until finally, he would sometimes switch language to say something that he didn't want you to hear; like confessions, talking about how beautiful you are, and sometimes even the littlest things he noticed about you.

So you were naturally suspicious about what he was saying. So you asked Shedletsky for help, knowing he was the only one that Builderman taught bits and pieces about his language.

...

"C'mon Shedletsky" you whined as you shook him back and forth, he just smirked at you like he just successfully rage baited you. "Just tell me what he's saying"

He shook his head in response with a smile— oh he knew what builderman was saying, although just bits and pieces, it doesn't take a genius what he's saying. And who was he to ruin the surprise? To ruin the fun he had listening to him basically confess to you, while you were oblivious to it.

"Nahhh I think I'm more content not helping you thanks" he said smugly, this just annoyed you further and shook him more violently this time. "You fucking asshole"

But as fun as you were to tease, he wanted to have an ounce of guilt and give you a little bit of help. "Y'know you could just install a live translator in your phone right?" You stopped shaking him and stared at him like he held all the answers of the world. "OH MY GOSH YOU'RE RIGHT!— thanks Shed!" You joyfully shouted and bolted out, finally you had a solution.

Meanwhile Shedletsky smirked while trying to hold his laughter, "oh my god this is going to be fun"

Today, was an especially special day— well, for you atleast; because you'll finally know what your friend is saying in his language, so you planned this out strategically, and this has to work, or else you wouldn't catch a wiff of what he's saying.

You dressed up in your most simplest but also kind of cute outfit you could construct. And headed to where Builderman would usually be; his garage.

The door creeked open as you went in his garage; and there he was, tuning his electric guitar with his usual unnerving silence and concentration, at first he didn't notice you, too engrossed. But when you sat next to him, he fully turned his attention to you.

"Oh? —" he said your name in a confused tone, "what are you doing here?" He asked, you just rolled you eyes "c'mon build, y'know how I show up to houses unannounced to hang out" you said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world— and if you're them, it was.

He smiled, yeah he knew that, "yeah yeah, I know that, I just didn't expect you to hang out with me"

You shook your head "as if, you're my friend too dumbass" you said while punching his side gently as a joke, he didn't even flinch and only chuckled.

Then time seemed to stay still as you guys shared a comfortable silence; you were looking around at his room boredly, while he stared at you with those love sick eyes.

"Ang gandang-ganda mo talaga, mahal"

And god did you wish you stayed curious in that moment, you wished you didn't take Shedletsky's advice and just stayed curious, and most of all, you wished you didn't put the love translator in full blown speaker.

"You're so beautiful my love"

You snapped your attention at your phone and fumbled to reach it out your pockets, your face was burning bright red and your chest was banging against your rib cage, and you wished he didn't hear it, didn't hear the translation, didn't hear how much his words affected you.

But alas, fate had a twisted way of showing up in the wrong times.

"Oh?"

He asked confused, and even though he looked calm on the outside, his heart was racing a damn track race, his ears was turning red, and all he could think of was why does she have a translator on?

"Ah— ah heh, uhm... It's not what it sounds like I swear" you fumbled through your flusteredness, struggling to find words. And damn, if he didn't look so good, you would've chocked him.

"You have a translator installed?" He asked while scooting closer to you, his curiousness hiding his intent of making you more flustered, because damn you for making him into a mindless love consumed zombie.

"EKK!— uhm— hah! W-what no—... It's just my uhm.. Music! Yeah! Music" you said while shuffling back, you clearly saw how he was trying to get close to you, and you wished you could— you wished you could battle your flusteredness and face your fear and lean in closer to him. But no, you can't, and curse the world for making your brain to mush over this!

"Mhm, right, a weird AI voice that coincidentally played after I said something in my native language" he said with a faded smirk, all while he was getting close, and closer to you. And unfortunately, you can't back up any longer cause there's a wall behind you.

"Mahal ko, hindi mo matatago sa akin yan" he chuckled, then finally, he caged you in his arms, and all you could think off was how close he is that you could practically smell his signature, intoxicating, Cologne.

Then ping!

"My love, you can't hide that from me"

Embarrassment seeped through your skin; you could feel your body starting to sweat from your burning heat, you could feel and hear your heartbeat, and you could most definitely, hear your raging thoughts about him. And God did you wish to disappear right then and there.

Then his confident demeanor snapped when he realized that you truly did have a translator and it wasn't what you claimed to be. He smiled gently. "Finally... I can finally say my confession to you freely"

You snapped your attention to him— which, before was looking anywhere but at him, but now? He had your full attention.

"Wh— what do you mean?"

You managed to say, and he looked at you, really looked at you with those same loving eyes he has been, but today, there was no hiding from it anymore, so he showed you how much he did love you.

"Anak ng langit... alam mo ba kung gaano kalalim ang pagmamahal ko sa'yo? Nararamdaman mo ba kung paano mo ako binabago at pinapangibabawan sa bawat araw?"

This time, the translator was delayed, and you two shared a comfortable silence, none of you spoke, but you could practically hear how intimate that was. Then finally, what you dreaded and hoped for finally came though.

"oh my god, do you realize how much I truly love you? Do you realize how you affect me on a daily basis?"

He then leaned in close to your ears.

"Mahal ko, nababaliw na ako sa ka-tangahan mo, akala ko alam mo na mahal kita"

He said in a low raspy tone that you didn't even know he could do. And damn you wanted to restrain him right then and there. But you just gulped down the saliva that collected in your mouth that you didn't even know you held.

"My love, I'm going crazy at your obliviousness, I thought I already made it clear that I loved you?"

Your brain officially turned to mush, it cannot be turned back to a proper brain anymore.

A/n: I don't know what I'm doing 😀 but idc cause I was running on those Elliot gooning drug that keeps me pumping of these fuckass ideas that keeps popping up on my brain cause I'm CRAZY single ANYWAYS 😋 I hope you guys have a GOOD feast on this

[lvl109]

raison d'être.

a caleb xia summer fic. rule one: no unnecessary touching.

summary.ᐟ university au. all the lis are friends. no evol au. featuring some npcs (ex: tara, yvonne, etc.) fake dating at a beach house to get over an ex that isn't even yours? much more likely than you think. don't forget your sunscreen and sandals.

tee says.ᐟ and they were roommates... oh my god, they were roommates.

content ahead: non!mc reader, loser caleb shenanigans, yvonne as the inner voice of reason, and the realization that this summer might just be the most insane thing you've gotten yourself into. much to sylus' well known delight. wc: 3.3k.

day one of the holidays and you’re already off to a terrible start.

you sleep through all your alarms, waking up solely to the blaring sound of your phone ringing and a few notifications from your beloved other half reminding you to pack accordingly. you groan and turn over in your sheets, batting at your phone uselessly before managing to grab it and press it to your ear.

“hello…?”

“i’m outside,” a cheerful voice answers, and you pull your phone away from your ear to glare at the screen offendedly. no one should be this happy at… 

you squint your phone more closely and huff. nine in the morning.

“who is this,” you mumble, turning around to bury your face in your pillow. “and why are you so happy so early in the morning. are you even human.”

“that’s no way to greet your loving boyfriend so early in the morning. do you want me to cry?”

you flop over in your sheets and send a deadpan glare to your poor ceiling.

“we have rules, caleb.” you frown when he laughs and eventually kick your blanket off to patter around and get ready. “stick to them.”

“just teasing,” he hums and you roll your eyes. “did sylus text you at ass in the morning, too? i swear he doesn’t sleep yet always looks like he snatches a full eight hours. don’t know how he does it.”

“never mind how he does it, why are you outside my apartment so early?” you peek through your curtains like a disgruntled housewife and squint against the sunlight. true to his word, he’s leaning against his car with his phone to his ear. “i was gonna carpool with sy.”

“but we’re dating now, remember? wouldn’t it be weird if we arrived separately?” 

you frown and move from the window. you hate to admit it, but he’s right.

“also… sylus knows about the situation,” caleb adds with a disturbing amount of calmness, and you trip over air on your way to the bathroom. it makes you cuss up a furious storm, and you can faintly hair his surprise as you pick your phone up from where it fell. 

“you what?!”

“i caved! he’s so… you know that thing he does when he knows you’re hiding something and squeezes it out of you? it’s so scary,” he whines, and you can see the pout on his lips without seeing him. you storm into the bathroom to brush your teeth and glare at your reflection in the mirror. “please don’t be mad… i’ll take the blame for everything if it goes south—”

you spit out toothpaste and frown. “this entire thing was your idea to begin with!”

how could you face your best friend now? you can practically see the shit-eating grin on his face, the gears in his head spinning meticulously, and it’s all you can do to not bang your head on the countertop.

“i bought breakfast in hopes of winning you over,” caleb continues sheepishly, making you squint at your phone incredulously. “it’s your favorite, too…”

you frown once again, grumbling to yourself petulantly. “bet that idiot told you just so you could bribe me out of bed even faster.”

“what? no, i remembered your order from that time we all went cafe hopping.” a short pause. “is that creepy?”

you purse your lips in thought. “yes. you're a creep. hang up, i’m gonna shower.”

“can i come with?”

you hang up before he backtracks and embarrasses himself any further. within the next few hours, you've changed, lugged your suitcases out front, and set out on the road towards impending doom.

the drive to the beach shaves ten years off your lifespan.

breakfast was great, though. he truly had remembered your order down to the amount of milk and sugar in your coffee, and you hum appreciatively as you take a sip. out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile at your response, to which you’re quick to remind him to keep his eyes on the damn road.

four hours and three terrible karaoke sessions from your driver later, and the beach house finally comes into view. you can’t stop the look of awe on your face.

it’s right near the water, beautiful white and baby blue paint reflecting the easy sunlight. it looks straight out of a house hunting magazine, and if you squint, you notice a few others exactly like it and a couple shops further down the shoreline. it’s a property brothers’ dream, you can’t help but think, momentarily forgetting your wiles as you take in the view.

“our lovebirds have arrived!”

your smile drops and you sigh. short lived and curt. typical of your best friend, of course.

he’s quick to make his way over your side as caleb puts the car in park, rushing over to your side with the giant grin you knew he’d be sporting. it’s almost sinister in real life, knowing he could be plotting anything for your evident demise, and you scowl as he throws an arm around your shoulders in greeting.

“sweetheart,” he says easily, and you groan and rest your head on his shoulder. “good for you to make it safely. how was the trip? tara and vonnie?”

“they're coming later.” you think of tara’s excited babbling and yvonne’s list of pre planned beach-related activities at the mention of your two friends—until you see the smug smile on his own lips.

“just out with it already,” you grumble, pinching his side when you hear him laugh. “i know he already told you. don’t make this harder than it already is.”

the both you glance back at caleb, who busies himself with unloading the trunk. you can hear the cogs turning in sylus’ head, thoughtful tapping against your skin giving him away, and you cross your arms to wait for his verdict in silence.

“i’m just curious as to how he managed to convince you,” he finally says, and you deadpan glare at the ground in response. “i thought you hated him?”

“i don’t even know him that well to hate him,” you counter through a hushed hiss, glancing back at the car in case he heard anything. “but he was going to grovel on his knees and probably would never leave me alone if i said no, so—”

“so you’re into begging,” sylus raises a brow, and promptly cackles as he steps back to avoid your slap. “kidding! just kidding. mostly. but i’m just saying this now, none of this works out in your favor.”

“i know,” you grumble, sighing when the trunk slams close and you hear footsteps approaching from being you. “that’s why we have a contract.”

in an attempt to regain some control, you'd drafted the weakest contract you'd ever seen with barely any time to spare. just thinking about it makes you want to bury your head six feet into the sand. caleb had looked at you like you were crazy when you'd brought it up, violet hues narrowing in confusion at why he'd need to sign a piece of paper to date someone, and you'd just glared at him until he'd grumbled his assent and sloppily signed the bottom of the paper. 

fake date, you'd reminded him testily. ground rules needed to be set if you were going to spend your summer attached to the hip of someone who didn't know how to move on. 

sylus raises his brows so high you swear they nearly reach his hairline. “so they do teach you things in that place after all,” he says incredulously, now earning him a smack to his shoulder. “a contract. that's so cute. i'm placing a bet that it'll be broken within the first month.”

“your faith in me is much appreciated,” you utter dryly. sylus snickers and squeezes your shoulder affectionately.

you'd missed this. missed him, even if it meant being clowned relentlessly. his presence is a familiar sense of grounding even on shifting sand. at least if this blew up in your face, he had a funny story to tell of his ridiculous best friend to his grandchildren. you let yourself burrow into his arms and breathe in the salty air. you wouldn't let caleb ruin your vacation. you were here to enjoy yourself. 

a voice clears his throat behind the two of you and you resist the urge to complain. “hope i’m not interrupting anything, but these bags won't carry themselves.”

the two of you look back to caleb staring already, his brows slightly furrowed with a suitcase in both hands. sylus just grins easily, directing you to the front door with a final squeeze to your shoulder before going over to help him. before you leave the two of them, your grip tightens around your shoulder bag as she's all yours, no one's taking her from you in the unmistakable cadence of mirth is the last thing you hear before you stalk off, the sound of sylus laughing wafting out behind you.

the interior is almost enough to make you forget your troubles. it's more hotel than beach house on the inside with its mix of coastal decor and open beam structure, white and blue accents littering couches that looked soft to the touch. white linens part for floor to ceiling windows that filter everything in a warm glow, opening the vast living and dining space to a peek of the ocean just in view. out of the corner of your eye, you spot a grand staircase leading up towards what you assume were the bedrooms.

your breath leaves you in an awed rush as excitement fills you up once again, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. when you blink back into focus, the sound of voices pull you further into the house.

the kitchen space is just as warmly decorated, but your attention is drawn to its current inhabitants sitting at the island. one of them notices your presence mid conversation, a smile tugging at her lips as she lights up and waves you over.

“hi!” her smile is warm as she gets up to greet you, brown eyes shining over clear frames. she's tall when she hops off the high chair, her sandals quiet against the tiled floor as she offers her hand to shake. “you must be the mysterious best friend.”

you blink nervously and shake her hand, the sound of her bracelets clinking under your embarrassed laugh. “yes. that's me, i guess—sorry we haven't met, university and all—”

“uni’s a massive bitch, don't apologize on its behalf.” she waves off any apologies, guiding you further into the kitchen. “we just got here a few minutes ago and sy said that his surprise guest was here, so i figured if it had to be anyone—it had to be you.”

her smile is sweet, genuinely interested as she looks you over. “wait, introductions. super sorry.” she points to herself, “theo. theodosia if you're my mother, teddy if we're cool, but any other variation of my name is alright. tee is the current one i've grown fond of. short and sweet.” theo inclines her head with a even sweeter smile, “and that's zayne. not short, but definitely the sweetest.”

their faces are familiar. you recall them from the rare times sylus would post on instagram in photos that were too cute to have been taken just by himself. you recognize her smile and the quiet fondness zayne held for the both of them, fully on display as theo does the introductions for them. you'd truly vomit if you didn't already think they were cute.

“he talks about you a lot,” zayne offers up his own conversation. wire frames settle on the bridge of his nose as well, pushed up before he continues to speak. “amongst other things. it's good to finally meet you in person.”

you nod with a weaker smile. “all good things, i hope. it's good to finally meet you both.” adding wryly, “thank you for ensuring he doesn't die alone. now he'll stop meddling with my love life.”

theo cackles, utterly delighted at your dry humor, and zayne does his best to tamp down a laugh of his own. it makes you let out a breath, though. they don't know. you don't know whether to laugh or cry about sylus keeping your dilemma a secret. probably in prolonging your suffering. maybe it'd make for good bedside laughter.

the front door bangs open with a loud shout, clamoring and bickering immediately breaking the good atmosphere. you jump in surprise, head whipping towards the commotion. sylus’ laughter is loud, ducking past caleb struggling between keeping the door open, pushing your suitcases through the foyer, and probably strangling the life out of your best friend. 

“stop it—i swear to god—hold the door open, you asshole!”

“that's no way to treat your beloved host now, is it?” sylus looks up to find the three of you mingling in the kitchen and brightens significantly, promptly abandoning the suitcases entirely to flit over much to caleb’s immediate dismay. 

“introductions were made? great, wonderful.” he leans over for a kiss, to which is happily delivered from both partners. “i hope no embarrassing stories were shared.”

theo brightens almost immediately, turning to face you. “remind me to tell you how he asked me to be his girlfriend. remind me.” she ignores sylus’ instant complaints and just smiles innocently. “it was so cute. he was so nervous.”

this is what you'd come here for. your smile is genuine now in the face of gaining dirt on your usually collected friend, opening your mouth to begin to pry for more information when the sound of a tired groan emits from the living room.

the four of you pause to look at caleb sprawled on the floor, a heap of sweat and exhaustion surrounded by your suitcases. being the closest to him, you force down your disgruntlement and walk towards him with sylus’ gaze boring holes into the back of your head, crouching down and poking his cheek.

“hey.” you clear your throat. no response. “caleb. get off the floor.”

he lays motionless on the ground save for the rise and fall of his chest. his eyes are closed, lashes settling on his cheeks, and you swear you see the faintest splash of freckles across his skin. if you were a weaker person, you'd call it cute. but you're not. 

mustering up your courage and letting your dignity pool on the ground at your feet, you let your brows furrow in what you hope is a convincing show of concern. your thumb brushes against his cheek with uncharacteristic softness. 

“caleb?” your voice is gentle. caring. his eyelids flutter a bit, his lips just barely keeping a smile at bay. murderous rage flares up inside of you but you keep it classy. one of you has to. “baby, get off the floor. you're blocking the door.”

caleb’s eyes blink open immediately. sylus’ chokes on a poorly hidden laugh. and as if your luck couldn't get any worse, two more figures stand at the open entry.

“aw, cute! why didn't you say anything about getting a boyfriend?”

more than anything, you wish for the ground to swallow you whole.

it's a full house now. with caleb moved (pushed, more like it) out of the way, three additional cars in the driveway bring tara and yvonne, rafayel—another face you recognize from social media, with xavier and emcee being the last to trickle in through the doors. greetings and hugs are exchanged as old friends are introduced to new ones, chatter flitting above your heads.

yvonne stares at you the entire time, her expression a clear sign that she wants to talk. your smile wavers slightly. there was little in this world you feared like the wrath of a medical student. 

offering something of a parting smile to caleb, who you'd been in conversation with alongside rafayel, you grab tara from where she'd been examining the decor and lead them both into what you hope is a secluded area far away from the living and dining area. the faint smell of laundry detergent and linen spray hits your nose as you pry a random door open. without thinking twice, you usher them both in and shut the door, leaning against its surface with a sigh.

tara blinks slowly. yvonne continues to stare. so you crumble.

“i can explain—”

“you're dating caleb?” yvonne sputters out over your weak attempt, her eyes widening in disbelief. “caleb? the same caleb who you couldn't even sit next to without immediately moving? the same caleb you swore had it out for you? that caleb?”

at the same time you open your mouth to explain again, tara’s expression grows comically horrified. “you're dating cal—mph?!”

you press your hand against her mouth as her exclamation gets a bit too loud for your liking, wincing at the volume. “...yes. i… i am. but it's new, alright? it hasn't been for long.”

yvonne narrows her eyes. “you said you couldn't fathom how someone could ever want to date someone like him. you called him weird and creepy.”

tara nods. “heavy on the creepy part. plus, like, isn't he in love with his best friend? how in the world did he land you?”

you resist the urge to bang your head against a hard surface for what seems like the nth time. “sylus wanted us to get to know each other,” you lie weakly. “and we just… started talking. and then he asked me to be his girlfriend, and…”

i almost killed him. “i said yes,” you finish lamely. “nothing special happened. we're just figuring things out. that's all.”

“wow.” tara’s expression is torn between looking impressed and a bit confused. “well. you know what they say about boys and beaches!”

your heart lurches. “what do they say—”

“you called him baby in the foyer earlier.” yvonne’s nose wrinkles slightly. “blink twice if you're being held hostage.”

you nearly burst into tears. she had no idea. “i'm not being held hostage,” you grumble petulantly. “i was mostly talking out of my ass. he's not that.. bad once you get to know him.”

that was an hour ago. now, after watching caleb haul your suitcases up to your designated room, you close the door behind you and whirl around to face him, spitting out completely contrary words before he can even speak.

“i'm going to kill you and then throw your body parts into the ocean. that is not a threat, that is a iminent promise.”

caleb doesn't even blink. much to your steadily increasing disbelief, he smiles, settling his hands on his hips. “do you think it worked?”

you want to smack him so bad. because the stunt he'd pulled an hour ago worked better than you thought it did. meeting the girl who had been the object of his (previous? past? you didn't even know anymore) desire had been one of the most nerve wracking experiences of your entire life. at least she was sweet and seemed genuinely happy for the two of you. it was her boyfriend that kind of made you uncomfortable, but you had chalked it up to him not really being a people person.

“fuck you,” you seethe in response, snatching your carryon from off the floor to turn on your heel and storm into the bathroom. “i'm using all the hot water.”

“don't be cruel, c’mon, i'm sorryyy—”

he grabs your wrist before you slam the door in his face, his expression softening into one of true concern. “i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. i just saw their car and… just acted. no more stunts after this. scout’s honor.”

you look down at where his larger hand nearly engulfs your entire hand. caleb looks down as well before inhaling sharply and letting out an awkward laugh. “right. rule number one. sorry.”

no unnecessary touching. you roll your eyes, turning your back to him. “i don't care what you do. if you're going to embarrass me, i'd just like a warning. my friends are here, too.”

you slam the door shut before he can say anything else.

previous: teaser 𑁍 up next: rule two 𑁍 full masterlist

[sweetdreamslie]

In the quiet hours

Pairings: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Summary: “You weren’t answering so I wanted to make sure you were ok.” He hums at that, pulling you closer into his side. He reaches towards the table and opens the lunchbox, eyes scanning the food and drinks you had packed.

Warnings: none

Word count: 772

A/n: requests are open :) - 🪐 Guys! If you’re reading this, take it as your reminder to eat something today, even if it's small! <3 - 🫧

-

-

-

It had been hours since you last heard from Jungkook. You knew he was working hard at the studio for his upcoming album, Golden, but he was usually good at responding to you. After looking at the clock and seeing that it was 3 a.m. and Jungkook still had yet to come home or even respond, you packed some drinks and snacks for him and went to the studio to check on him.

As you pulled into the studio parking lot, you saw a few cars, assuming they were overnight security and other idols working hard, including your boyfriend's car. As you park next to his car, you get out, grab the lunchbox you packed, and head inside. A while ago, after you and Jungkook made it official, he was able to get you a badge so you could just walk in without any hassle. You found his little studio as you went through the security and the building. It was dimly lit, and you could see his computer on, but no one was sitting at the desk. You knocked on the door, but no answer, which led you to just open the door and see Jungkook lying on the couch with his arm over his eyes.

You go over to him and gently shake him awake, calling his name. He moves his arm from his eyes and opens his eyes slowly to see you with the lunchbox.

“What are you doing here?” He sits up, yawning slightly as he does. You set the lunchbox down on the table and sit next to him. He turns to look at you, eyes soft and filled with nothing but adoration and love. You smile and softly peck his lips before pulling away.

“You weren’t answering so I wanted to make sure you were ok.” He hums at that, pulling you closer into his side. He reaches towards the table and opens the lunchbox, eyes scanning the food and drinks you had packed.

“All this for me?” You nod slowly, eyes moving from him to the food. He first opens the banana milk, drinks half of it in one sip, passes it to you, and offers you the rest. You decline telling him that he has worked hard and needs all the energy he can get. He rolls his eyes and insists that you take the rest since it took energy to pack the box and come all the way over here. You take it and drink the rest after losing a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Jungkook seems pleased as he leans forward and grabs something to eat. He undoes the packaging and suddenly stands, walking over to his computer. You also stand, slowly making your way over to him and the computer.

“Wanna hear some of it?” He glances at you, to which you nod. He smiles, eyes moving back to the computer in front of both of you. Jungkook reaches his hand out, clicking a couple of buttons before one of the songs starts to play.

“I haven’t decided an exact title yet, but I’m leaning towards Hate You.” You listen carefully, humming along when you start to get a feel of the melody. Your eyes move from the computer to Jungkook, who’s already looking at you.

He pauses the music, his eyes quickly darting to the screen before they’re back on you. You lean towards him and softly kiss him. He eagerly accepts, his hands moving to your waist so he can pull you closer. After a couple of minutes, you pull away with a soft smile.

“It was amazing baby.” His eyes light up at the praise, and it’s not long before he’s kissing you again. One of his hands moves to your lower back, where his thumb rubs soft circles into the skin.

“Thank you, honey. I’m almost done. I just have to finalize some parts, and then we can go home. Why don't you go lie down on the couch until then?” You go to object, wanting to stay awake while he works, but the longer you think on it, the more the idea doesn’t sound half bad. You walk over to the couch and lie down, cuddling into yourself slightly before closing your eyes.

You feel a gentle rub on your arm; it's Jungkook waking you up. As you sit up, he sits next to you and kisses you. He then stands up and puts his hand out for you to grab. You grab his hand and the lunchbox that is now empty as you both walk out of the studio into the early quiet hours.

[queersyourgender]

Hi! I hope your 4th of July was a good one (if you celebrate it ofc)! I hope you stayed hydrated and ate some good food ofc. I was wondering if you’d be willing to do another multi person one-shot thingy.? (Perhaps the same ppl from the fibromyalgia one? Or legit anyone else, but that’s up to you ofc) Maybe something regarding hyper mobility in the hands or just in general (typing that sounded odd ngl); but maybe the reader wears those rings that help prevent their fingers from extending (?) too far. Or maybe about the reader constantly popping their back and hips and how the crew would feel about that? (Again, tbh idk I thought it sounded fun) Whatever the case may be; have a great day/night, hydrate,consume food, and get some sleep!!! (Also you (I believe) interning in physical therapy medicine is pretty cool!!)

Mini-Multi — Hypermobile Hands: Dana Evans, Dennis Whitaker, Melissa King, Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, and Jack Abbot

Notes: Hello my darling!! Unfortunately, I have done the exact opposite of getting good sleep, so you'll have to forgive the quality of this request fill haha. I'm so sleepy wehh... but anyways, thank you!! Enjoy ^°^

———

Dana Evans: Dana's actually quite hypermobile herself. Not to the same extent as you, that she would need those hand rings to keep her fingers fixed, but enough to pull some contortionist things that would have some men call an exorcist on her. At least, in her younger days, anyway. So she's at least a little bit familiar with your daily struggles in this usually overlooked regard, and usually has to be the one to remind you to take your rings with you before you head out somewhere.

Dennis Whitaker: He feels bad for it, but he's completely fascinated by your rings. He thinks they look so cool and interesting, even though they're an aiding device, even more so that they're an aiding device. He speculates they could probably pack a decent punch, but begs you not to test that theory out on anyone anytime soon, for the sake of your hands more than anything.

Melissa King: She likes holding your hands while you have the rings on, running her fingers over the metal and tracing the shapes of any designs they might have. She starts showing you different designs to buy so that you can even be fashionable about wearing them, but really, she just wants to play with them while you have them on.

Michael “Robby” Robinavitch: He doesn't think much of them, in the sense that he just takes and accepts them as a part of you, which means that he loves them just as much as he loves you. He makes sure you take care of them, wear them correctly, keep track of them so that you don't lose them. Anytime he sees anyone else wearing similar rings, he instantly remembers you, though that may be because he constantly has you on his mind regardless.

Jack Abbot: This loser loves your rings so much. He thinks they're the coolest thing in the world and keeps buying you ridiculous amounts of them to have around, in your car, in your nightstand, in your locker at work. He loves the way they look on your fingers, says they make your hands look elegant and pretty like the rest of you.

[netbug009]

T-Minus One Month, Please Help and Signal Boost/Vouch

Hey guys, I'm once again in a spot where I'm doing a big detailed post about this and sharing it to my sideblogs. I'm not a fan of this but the situation is pretty dire. Frankly, it has been pretty dire for a while, and I've only gotten this far thanks to the support from both you guys and from some friends who have been willing to lend me money without much clue when they'll get it back. I'm deeply thankful for everything so far, but I have unfortunately only really been able to use all of that to make ends meet instead of having much savings built up like I was hoping to right now.

I have 30 days and any amount of help makes a huge difference.

So back in February I found out my apartment was choosing not to renew my lease at the end of July for questionable but not technically illegal reasons and I have been scrambling to find a new apartment since without much luck. Whether I manage to find a place or have to head to a motel/airbnb for a bit, I need to move my things to... somewhere. I am disabled and unable to drive myself or even have a parking spot to put a POD into so I don't have a choice besides hiring a professional moving service, and that's scaring the fuck out of me right now. I also am still working to just afford boxes to pack everything. This is all before even considering paying rent/deposit/application fees at a new place.

So why have I had trouble saving up when I've had almost half a year? I work 15-25 hours a week in a factory doing fairly heavy labor, and while in theory I could do a solid 40 a week and everything would be rainbows and flowers forever, in practice this just hasn't been possible; my mental health and physical health just aren't up to it. Summer has been particularly hard because I'm in the midwest US and the warehouse I work in does not have air conditioning. In reality, the most I can handle is about 30 hours a week when everything is perfect, and it's rarely been perfect these past few months between the massive stress of this situation, stress from other life issues, and more recently the heat. I'm usually dismayed and exhausted.

That sounds like someone who should be on disability, right? Unfortunately, even being able to work as much as I'm able to has previously gotten me the response of "suck it up" from the government. Things have recently started to change for autistic people in that respect in the US... at the price of being put on a national registry, while our leaders are actively building prisons that feel oddly similar to concentration camps. That's a price to my future I desperately do not want to pay, and a process that tends to take years to see any fruit even if I did.

I've offered to write at very low rates to offer something in exchange for help and received zero interest - an understandable but difficult hit to the heart on top of everything right now. Attempts to find clerical work or something else less exhausting that still pays even close to as much as I'm making right now IRL have been just as fruitless. I have also been selling things on ebay to both help me get by and to have less to move with, but again that inventory only moves so fast and I only have to much energy.

My friends are still helping me, but I'm also here asking for additional help from the community around me one last time because there's only so much they can do and even if their wasn't I want to make this easier for them. I'm trying to be able to afford to pack my things and move them out of the apartment at the end of the month first and foremost.

Again, I'm sorry to share this friggin everywhere. I hope you all can forgive me for it. I'm scared and doing what I can.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

hello! i was wondering if i could have a party favour with james potter 🥰 i'm a cancer sun, a bit shy but deeply loyal. my life's built around soft friendships, picnics, and writing romantic stories.

Thank you for participating in my celebration, I really appreciate it!

Chantelle's Birthday Bash

James wakes up before you do.

He tries to be quiet, padding around in socks and stealing glances at your sleepy face as he makes coffee. There's a little sticky note on the fridge that reads "no peeking"—the first clue in the scavenger hunt he's been secretly planning for weeks. Because James Potter doesn't just celebrate your birthday. He curates it.

Your gift starts slow. Warm. He brings you breakfast in bed—scones and fruit and honey drizzled just right. The tray comes with a single daisy in a jar and the second sticky note: "follow the sun." You find the rest scattered around the flat: in your picnic basket, under your favourite mug, tucked into a paperback of Persuasion. Each note is a little love letter disguised as a riddle. Each one makes your heart feel like a soft bruise in the best way.

You're a Cancer, and James knows exactly what that means: you're gentle, you're loyal, and you feel everything all at once. So he makes this day feel like a warm hug from start to finish.

The next part of the day? He takes you to the park. Not just any park, of course—it’s your favourite one. The one with the old tree you like to sit under, the one that makes you feel like the world slows down just a little. He sets up the picnic while you’re distracted by a butterfly or a dog passing by. There’s soft music from a Bluetooth speaker tucked into the grass. A checkered blanket. A thermos of your favourite tea. He even packed the little sandwiches you like (yes, the ones with the cucumber ribbons—you’re a delicate little thing and he adores that about you).

There's a journal in your picnic basket—leatherbound, with your initials stamped on the front in gold. Inside are blank pages, but also tiny prompts he’s written by hand every few pages: What does love look like today? Describe the sky right now. Write the kind of story you’d want someone to fall into and never come out of. Some pages just say, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

That night, James strings fairy lights in the living room. Lights candles. Makes you slow dance with him barefoot to Ella Fitzgerald, swaying like the two of you are the only ones left in the world. He kisses your forehead and whispers something about how soft you make him. How safe.

He knows you don't need grand gestures—you need tenderness, intimacy, knowing someone sees the quiet parts of you and doesn't flinch. So he gives you that, over and over.

He makes you feel like the main character in one of your romantic stories. And if you cry just a little? He pulls you in closer, kisses the top of your head, and says, "You deserve every good thing. Especially today."

(And the final sticky note, tucked into your pillowcase, just says: "thank you for choosing me, again and again.")

[nereidaa]

i'm leaving for the trip today 😭

[tumblweeds-omegaverse]

random omegaverse thought:

There must be people who experience specific instinct things with indifference or boredom.

Procreative cycle coming up? "Crap, I've got plans this weekend...stupid skip weeks."

Caught an intriguing scent while walking? "But I need to get to work! Shut up brain."

Had a snap response to a distressed sound? "Who was it?! ...right, it's my day off, I can go back to sleep."

Somebody growled at them? "Kid, I'm not a rival, that's my sibling."

Super cozy cuddle session happening nearby? "I'm gonna pass tonight guys, no social battery left, maybe next time."

Group of friends heading out to flirt and check out other singles? "I'm coming with you but only to make sure you all get home safe."

Setting where fated mates or soul bonds or permanent marks are a thing? "Meh. I don't really want one or care if I ever get one."

People in the actual omegaverse would get as bored of their stuff, as we do of ours, you know? It could be interesting to see that kind of vibe in fics. Biological demands faced with all the excitement of paying bills or doing laundry or tying your shoes.

Even if that kind of energy might not drive a plot, it could be interesting to have as a contrast to the people who do have big feelings about them - good or bad.

There's the friends who can't wait til they have a pack of their own, and the one friend who isn't against it but couldn't care less. There's the group in the office who are all about scent compatibility tests and figuring out one's best match and what sprays most highlight it, and the coworker who has no intentions on putting that much effort in. There are parents who hover and protect their offspring by scenting them multiple times a day, and others who don't see what the fuss is as long as it's done in the morning.

...also: packs with introverts who show care by giving each other space. So often, closeness is depicted through physical touch and tactile affection, but comfortable silence is meaningful too. Knowing people are near, but not having to interact until you're ready. Sitting in the same room doing different things, knowing that all it takes is a "hey, look at this" to share what you're up to. People understanding and accepting each other's differing or fluctuating needs for how and when to recharge. Seeing somebody reaching out or sharing space, beyond what's their norm, as a signal of the fact that they care.

[torra-and-the-toons]

Some notes on Nigel from my modern adult AU, where all their adventures were just them playing pretend as kids and now they're grown up.

I always liked the cancer theory for Nigel, so I went with that. (what can I say, I love angst...) He left because the US healthcare system is a joke.

I made this for outfits, but it kinda just evolved into random notes.

[thevoidcircus]

If you're not nice to Nyon Specter, we can't be friends, I'm sorry.

[iridescentis]

i would love to make youtube videos more often but i have no idea what to make like. what do the people want?? there's nothing in particular calling to me

[pinkponyluv]

kind of weird how attatched I am to the immigrant mentality considering im not an immigrant

[lee-blogs]

Still packing stuff and now i'm looking for a box for this.

My dad and i made it a few years ago for halloween, probably 2015/16 if i'm remembering right. It's made from a lays can, a wipes container from his work, and paper maché. I don't remember what the wires and front metal bits are from, but the middle actually lights up! It has one of those long battery-powered emergancy lights in it and some colored tissue paper