#and i am now literally crying real tears at the thought of more people having to go through with this

[ptsd-tiger]

hey so, I know people will get mad at me for saying this, but I am very kindly asking y’all to destroy this mindset as soon as possible. extended honeymoon phases in relationships always leads to later abuse. this is because when later interactions do not uphold the same level of infatuation, someone will inevitably end up feeling like they’re no longer enough for the other person, causing a spiral of clinginess and agitation until one finally drops the other like a sack of trash.

if your life completely revolves around your partner, I literally do not care how��“cute” everyone says you two are. you need to fucking get away before it’s too late.

"honeymoon phase" i am literally healthily insane and obsessed for the entire duration of the relationship. skill issue

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: this fic will contain DARK CONTENT. MINORS DNI. AGELESS BLOGS DNI. reader and touya are childhood friends, kidnapping, reader does not consent to what touya’s doing, possessive/obsessive behavior, one-sided pain kink, no sex, no aftercare, hurt/no comfort,  this takes place after dabi broadcasts that he’s a todoroki, touya burns reader in multiple places, touya burns your clothes off, this is seriously fucked up content, this is not intended to be sexy or hot or anything like that, it’s literally just fully DARK CONTENT GENRE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT SUMMARY: touya intends to make you his—permanently. WORD COUNT: 1.4K 🦊’s A/N: whoa….. god help us all. this is my first seriously dark fic here and there will be plenty more to cum 💦

     “now—don’t be like that, doll,” dabi scolds you as he finishes tying off the rope at your ankles. currently, you were laying face down against the mattress, limbs pulled apart spread eagle style, blindfolded and terrified.

     when you were on your way home earlier tonight, you weren’t exactly expecting to be kidnapped in broad daylight. maybe it was your fault for taking that shortcut through that shadyass alley…. goddammit. now, you had no one to blame but your own dumb ass.

     what you weren’t aware of, however, was the fact that touya had been stalking you for weeks now—waiting for the perfect time to snatch you up. you see, he’d always had a bit of a crush on you since you were always there for him when you were children, someone whom he actively sought solace in. so, now that you were both adults and his feelings had time to simmer and intensify, he found himself thinking about you obsessively—he thought of you as something he just had to have; something akin to a doll he had to mark as his. and that’s exactly what he’d do.

     “please…. let me go!” you cry, tears dampening the cloth obstructing your vision. “i— i have — have to get home! i have people waiting for me!” you lie, wiggling around on the bed.

     he had taken you to some abandoned home—the family already dead and gone weeks ago, as touya had been planning this exact scenario for months now. and he finally has you exactly where he’s dreamt you’d be: struggling beneath him as he marks you as his permanently. 

     “that’s a lie and we both know that, sweets,” he spits out. “‘ve been watchin’ you for a while now, y’know…” suddenly his lips are right next to your ear, hot breath fanning over the shell of it as a chill runs down your spine. 

     “but, i’ll tell ya what: if y’can guess who i am, i’ll let you go free. sound good?” he proposes, meaning his words—he knows you’ll come crawling back to him once he’s through with you. you wouldn’t have any other choice, really!

     that being said, he activates his quirk on his hand and sets flame to the button down shirt you wore, and as a result, your bra as well, making you cry out painfully as the overwhelming heat consumes your upper body for a few long moments. …and then just like that, it’s gone and you’re left in just the stupid skirt you’d decided to wear today and your panties.

     now, with his quirk active on just his index finger, he brings it down to your naked lower back where he begins to spell out his name—his real name. 

     he did it tortuously slowly, though. taking his sweet time to make sure you could feel the stroke of each letter so that there would be no mistaking who he was.

     T…

     it’s all you can do to scream and bite down on the pillow by your head. the heat was beyond blistering, and you think you might pass out as he agonizingly traces the letters of his name.

     O…

     “jesus christ, owow–OW—OW–! fuck!” you scream-sob, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks from the searing pain as he mockingly praises you for being so brave. 

     U…

     suddenly, the realization of who he might be clicks amidst the pain, and it’s all you can do to cry; “t–touya!? b–but why?” 

     he doesn’t stop writing as he grins so widely, he pops a couple staples—the ones closest to his mouth—and continues spelling out his name before deciding to answer you.

     Y… A…

     perfect….. his handwriting wasn’t exactly the best, but it was undoubtedly his. just like you were.

     the last you’d seen him was on the news when he dropped the metaphorical bomb that was him being the eldest todoroki sibling. and before that? the night he supposedly “died.” so, not only was finding out he’s been alive this whole time a slap in the face, but now he has the audacity to kidnap and brand you? like you’re a piece of property!?

     “why?” he rasps out. “it’s pretty simple, really. …because you’re the only one who understands me—”

      “n–no! t– touya, this isn’t—” isn’t what? this isn’t him? this isn’t right? the touya you were once familiar with perished long ago and so had his morals.

     his hand comes down to strike against your ass with an awful, burning force, and you swear there’s an immediate handprint that forms. 

     your back arches instinctively, forcing your stomach firmly against the mattress, in attempt to escape his blazing touch, but touya doesn’t give you time to recover before he’s bringing the same hand down again, with just as much force and firepower as before, and you yelp loudly as you squirm against your restraints.

     “pl– please–! why me?”

     “i just told you—don’t tell me your memory’s that bad?” he quirks a brow up at 

      it’s true that you’d had a crush on the man now known as dabi back in your youth, but that crush died when touya did, forcing you to mourn both him and the feelings you harbored towards him. and now he comes back from the dead like nothing? did he even try to seek you out in all this time? 

     he had, actually, at multiple points; little “check ins”of sorts, if you will. observing from a distance, too scared to reach out.

     “n–no! ‘s’not! i just—! ow! fuck! touya, please!” 

     “you what?” he snaps, spanking your other asscheek this time.

     “fuck! ow–! touya, please! please!”

     his hand comes down again, harder and hotter than before and you bite your tongue so hard it starts to bleed, filling your mouth with an almost sickening coppery taste. rather than swallow it, you spit it out onto the bed, as far away from your face as you can manage, and touya laughs at the pathetic sight. 

     “you poor thing,” he coos mockingly. “maybe i should’ve given you something to bite down on—...oh well, it’s too late now,” he laughs cruelly as another idea comes to mind. next, he thinks he’ll carve the characters of his name into your back, rather than just the romaji writing, and right between your shoulder blades at that. 

     “t–tou—touya, i—” you swallow thickly, unable to think of anything but the pain, or if you’d ever get to go home again after this. part of you almost wishes he would just kill you so you wouldn’t have to live with this mark of him for the remainder of your life.  

     “you—” he cuts you off, “are not going to like what happens next.” there’s an inflection of sorts in his voice—he sounds… like he found humor in his own words, like whatever was about to happen next would be funny. 

     he sets flame to his pointer finger again and brings the searing digit down against your flesh, and the smell that arises as he carefully takes his time with each stroke of the characters needed to spell his name—even going as far as to use his former surname todoroki in the spelling, just to make it that much more agonizing for you.

     轟。。。

     you wail and bite onto the pillow, staining it with your blood, as touya burns your flesh for his own entertainment.

     燈。。。

     矢。。。

     there. now he could be done with you until you inevitably decided to seek him out—too embarrassed and full of shame to continue living amongst normal citizens; after all, being branded by a well-known villain and then being set free into society like it never even happened is sure to take a toll on one’s mind. 

     what are you gonna do? call the police? tell a pro? show them your new scars as evidence? the idea is laughable. 

     “there—we’re all done,” he says, leaning over your trembling form to burn the ropes binding your trembling form to the bed, quickly followed by the ones tied around your ankles. “i’m a man of my word, so you’re free to go,” he says with a deviant, slightly crooked smirk. 

     rather than immediately booking it, you curl up tightly into a ball as your body’s wracked with heavy, heaving sobs, processing the physical and mental pain as touya just chuckles at your pathetic self, getting up from the bed and putting his hands in his pockets.

     “well, see ya around,” he says, walking off as if he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving you to cope with your situation and what happens next.

return to KINKTOBER | LEAGUE OF VILLAINS M.LIST

[lowkeychenle]

Like We Just Met [ZCL] (M)

Description: Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever.

Genre: Fluff (literally SO MUCH FLUFF we love Chenle in this house go away if you don't) // Smut

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (it's actually sweet this time am I feeling okay), talks about marriage etc etc. Nothing really dark or upsetting in here.

Word Count: 11,292 (y'all I have no idea how this happened...)

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat. the rest of the Dreamies)

ISTJ 7Dream Series Masterlist

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests/Tell me what you think of this plz <3

Tag List (open for ISTJ 7Dream Series): @kunvibing

Author's Note: Lowkey? This was so fun because it's from Chenle's POV...or it's supposed to be haha. This is probably my favorite fic I've ever written catch me crying in the corner...also this gif don't mind the real tears in my eyes

Nobody questioned Renjun when he said he’d invited his friend to dance practice. They brought friends in every now and then, so it wasn’t anything new. Chenle was having a bit of an off day. He kept screwing up the choreography (that he’d done seven hundred times probably in the past week alone) and even accidentally elbowed Jaemin.

Renjun’s friend had yet to show up. Chenle was beyond frustrated with the way things were going, so he let everyone know he was taking a break. He grabbed his water bottle and stomped out of the practice room.

He ended up a bit down the hallway, resting his back on the wall with his eyes closed. All he needed was a break. That had to be it.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.

When he looked at you, he recoiled a bit. He’d never seen you before—he’d definitely remember—but something about you felt familiar. Like a warm aura surrounded you and infiltrated him in the best ways.

“You’re Chenle, right?” You tilted your head at him. “I’m Renjun’s friend, (Y/N). I was supposed to watch practice, but I got lost. This building is pretty big.”

“Yeah, I’m Chenle.” He blinks at you a couple more times. “Um, we’re always in the same practice room. I’ll take you over there.”

“Actually, is there a place to get some water? I forgot mine at home.” You scratched the top of your head and scrunched up your nose. “It was really hot outside.”

“It’s on the way.” He gestured down the hall with his head.

You followed him without hesitation. He was acutely aware of every step you took, of how there was only a few feet between the two of you. Even though he had no clue what to say to you, you didn’t mind walking along in silence. It was unlike him to be shy. Next to impossible for him to be starstruck.

“How long have you known Renjun for?” he asked. And why the hell had you not come around sooner?

“Oh.” You took a deep breath and pursed your lips in thought as Chenle stopped to grab you a water bottle from the kitchen. “Four years now? Five? His family knows mine, so when I came back here, his parents told him he had to help me find my way around.”

“Well, today’s pretty laid back,” Chenle explains. “We’ll probably practice for another hour or two and then go home. We’ve been at it all day.”

You hum in response, opening the cap and taking a sip. “Thank you for this. Sorry to keep you from practice.”

“Don’t be. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” Chenle chuckles, gaze drinking you in when you’re distracted by your water. “And…they can be a little…much at first. But they’re all great people, so you’ll be fine.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m nervous.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully.

He bit back a smile, pressing his lips into a thin line instead. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Renjun has given me plenty of warnings,” you tell him.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken you to the practice room yet. The two of you stood in the kitchen, but he knew the second you were with everyone else, the conversation was over. He didn’t want to stop talking to you, and that odd feeling of warmth settled into his chest.

“Like what?” Chenle raised his eyebrows.

“He said you’re cranky and mean.” You smiled at him, and he swore he was almost knocked off his feet. There was something about you that drew him in.

Chenle made a mental note to scold Renjun later, but he’s not necessarily wrong…he was cranky until he saw you.

“Well, in that case, what he said about everyone else is probably accurate, too.”

“You don’t look cranky,” you interjected. “You’re not mean either. Mean people don’t get strangers water bottles.”

“I’m mean to Renjun. And Jisung.”

“They’re your friends. You get a pass for your friends.” You slid one of your hands into the back pocket of your jeans, rocking on the balls of your feet as silence befell the room.

“They’re waiting for me,” Chenle says. “We should go.”

You nodded in agreement and followed him. He sulked a bit when the other members were introduced to you. They were all nice—because they always were—but when it came time to get back to practice, he found himself gravitating toward you several times.

Nearly every time he looked at you, you were already looking at him, too. Maybe it wasn’t just him that felt the weird tug. He hoped it wasn’t.

After they wrapped everything up, Chenle sat against the back wall, feeling so heavy as if he could fall asleep right there. He was exhausted.

Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were already on their way out the door, leaving Jisung to slump next to Chenle and Renjun to talk with you. Jisung noted how he was watching you, but he didn’t say anything right away. He drank his water and stayed quiet.

You said something to Renjun, who smiled at you and nodded. He headed for the door and waited for you outside. When Chenle realized you were coming over to him, he shot a worried glance over at Jisung.

“Would you look at that?” Jisung cleared his throat. “Time for me to go.”

Before Chenle could even grab him, Jisung was halfway to the door. Once you were in front of him, you sat down and crossed your legs.

“You did really well today.”

He chuckled. “I think that’s the worst I’ve done this comeback season.”

“Then you’re in pretty good shape.” You shrugged, picking at the seam of your jeans. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me earlier.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he said. “You’re Renjun’s friend. Of course, I’d help you.”

“Right.” You brushed your hair over your shoulder and prepared to stand up. “I should go—”

“Will you be coming back?” The question shot out of his mouth, sending a blush to his cheeks in response.

“I’m not sure,” you told him. “That’s up to Renjun I guess. It was really cool to see how passionate you guys are.”

“Let me give you my number.” Chenle grabbed his phone from his pocket. “Um, just in case you get lost again. And need help finding the room.” He cringed at himself, hoping he wasn’t going to get rejected.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gave him the tiniest smile, but it made his heart flutter anyway.

He handed it to you with the contact app open. You didn’t even hesitate to type in your name and number. After, you sent yourself a text, and Chenle heard it ring in your back pocket. You gave it back to him, grinned, and left him sitting there in shock.

He couldn’t choose between staring at you as you left and looking down at your contact open on his screen. His stomach twisted with nerves, but the second he saw the smiley face emoji you’d put next to your name, he already knew.

You were going to be someone to him.

Mark drops something in the kitchen, snapping Chenle out of it. He looks at you, and you smile back at him. With you pressed into his side and your legs over his lap, he can’t help but grin right back.

His hand rests on your thigh, thumb sliding gently back and forth as he presses a kiss to your temple. He’d never get used to this.

After returning from the kitchen, Mark allows the game to resume. His nose scrunches as he glances between you and Chenle. “That’s a weird ass question.”

“Not weird.” Chenle shakes his head. “Critical thinking, Mark, you should try it.”

“Oh, be nice.” You shove his shoulder.

For a while now, Chenle has felt his feelings growing more than he thought possible. He’s already in love with you (thankfully, since you’ve been together almost a year now), but something about you lately has him on a whole other level. Even then, he’s not sure what it is. He decides he’ll ride it out for a while and see where it takes him.

“Why would you ask your girlfriend what year she’d take a time machine back to? Shouldn’t she be like…happiest now?” Mark asks, sipping on whatever mixed drink he’d prepared in Chenle’s kitchen.

“You’d think.” Chenle snorts, leaning back against the couch and throwing his arm around you.

“He asks me questions like this all the time,” you tell Mark. When you steal a glance at your boyfriend, his breath catches in his chest.

What the hell is going on with him lately? He can’t concentrate around you (even more than usual) and every tiny thing you do has his heart hammering against his ribcage. Soon enough, he’s sure you’ll both hear the bones crack.

“Has anyone, by chance, ever told you two that you’re gross?” Mark chuckles to himself and leans back in the recliner. “Some of us are single and lonely, you know.”

“Some of us will never be that again,” Chenle shoots back.

“Oh, you two are the worst.” Your laugh echoes pleasantly in his ears, and he subconsciously leans closer to you.

“I am curious what your answer is, though,” Mark interjects. “Since Chenle’s so sure.”

Chenle takes a sip of his own drink, nearly cringing at the bitter taste dragging down his throat. He’s not much of a drinker—social at best. But he can still appreciate the buzz and the hazy happiness that comes with it. You take his hand that dangles over your shoulder, twirling the friendship ring wrapped around his middle finger. The action is so, so simple, yet it makes his stomach turn.

If he doesn’t figure out what the hell’s going on with him soon, he’s gonna have to separate himself from you.

“Well, you’re right.” You shrug, shuffling closer to Chenle. “This part of my life has definitely been the best. But if I could go back to any time, it would probably be when we met. You only get to meet Zhong Chenle once in your life, dude. I’d do it over and over again if I could. The second I saw him, I knew he would be important to me.”

Chenle thinks back to the moment he first saw you. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you like an actual child or the way he took in every detail of you to store in his mind forever—just in case he never got to speak to you again. He pauses, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he analyzes your answer.

Mark groans. “That doesn’t count! That was last year.”

Grabbing the pillow next to him, Chenle throws it at his friend. “Leave her alone, it was a good answer.”

But when he contemplates that thought, he’s not sure he understands what you mean. His ears burn, the tips of them turning red as he recalls how embarrassingly nervous he was around you all the time. How awkward all of your firsts together were. Everything now is so much better than back then.

Not to mention he’s looked at you the same way since that first night. His feelings for you have grown, sure, but those butterflies he used to get still torment him just about every time he sees you smile.

“Why?” Chenle finally asks.

“You were so cute,” you hum, shifting closer to him. “Everything made you nervous. You almost keeled over in embarrassment when you asked to hold my hand.”

Mark laughs, and Chenle sends a glare his way. No part of that is even anywhere near funny.

“Okay, it's your turn.” Mark gestures at you.

Chenle resists the urge to reach over and touch your face. Usually, he’s so much better about being so clingy in front of his friends and, while he would prefer Mark not seeing this side of him, he couldn’t care less when his gaze is locked with yours.

“Cool.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Both of you. Hypothetical situation. Let’s say you’re drunk. You walk into a room and everyone you’ve ever loved is in there. Like…loved. Who are you going to?”

“Dude.” Mark’s jaw drops. “That’s such a shitty question for me.”

“You’ll live,” Chenle replies. “Just romantic love?”

“All of it. Platonic, romantic, family.” You purse your lips in thought.

Chenle doesn’t have to think about it. Not really. He’d rather get struck by lightning and then hit by a bus right after before admitting that so easily in front of Mark. In this case, it’s always been you. From the second you spoke to him for the first time, he was irrevocably yours. 

“You.” Chenle watches your eyebrows raise.

“Be serious,” you say. “Your parents are included in that.”

“I’m serious. You.” Chenle chuckles.

You give him a pointed look, but that’s when Mark cuts in.

“No, he’s for real. Like…that legitimately happened.” Mark leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs as he rests his head in his palms. “Do you guys not remember?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him, frowning.

Chenle remembers. Barely, and it’s a bit foggy, but it comes back like a baseball bat upside the head as Mark starts telling the story.

Chenle’s birthday party last year. The night was barely halfway through and he was drunk enough to be stumbling over his feet. He’d heard you were coming, but he had yet to see you. Even when every other feeling was numbed by the tingling sensation the alcohol left behind, his craving to see you was all that remained. 

Mark walked next to him, having a full conversation with himself since Chenle was so fog-brained. As much as he loved Mark, there was only one person he wanted to see. Everyone he knew and loved was here—his parents, the rest of his group, and Jisung had somehow forgotten to uninvite Chenle’s ex.

He only ever dated one person before you, but he wasn’t sure he ever loved her. Regardless, there she was. Even with her standing across the room from him, he kept waiting like a lost puppy.

When you walked in, he swore the whole world stopped around him. Everyone but you was moving in slow motion before they eventually faded into nothing, darkness that was emphasized by the light you were. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped walking.

Chenle couldn’t form a coherent thought while he stared at you, drunken stupor making it so much easier to forget the embarrassment. Mark watched him curiously as Chenle made his way over to you. He refused to waste any more time when he knew you were the one he wanted to talk to.

You had always been more confident around him than he was around you. Your face lit up when you saw him, wrapping your arms around him. He secured you in his grasp, breathing in the scent of your hair and the perfume you wore.

“Happy birthday.” Your voice is muffled a bit by his T-shirt. “Sorry I’m late, took a bit longer to get ready than I thought it would.”

He knew he should’ve let you go. People were starting to notice the way he was clinging to you, and not even being drunk could excuse that behavior. He was about ready to tell everyone except you to leave. Nothing else mattered. If he could spend his birthday with you, it would be the best one yet.

It’d been two months since Renjun had introduced you to the rest of them. Which means, he’s only known of your existence for two months, and you already command so much of his brain matter that he can’t think of anyone but you. Great.

He finally (reluctantly) let you go and led you over to the rest of the group. Nobody said anything when he made Mark scoot over so you could sit next to him. Nobody questioned it. His parents would ask him about it later, but until then, there was no reason for him to worry. After all, his crush on you was the most obvious thing in the world, so it was only a matter of time before you found out about it.

By the end of the night, he hadn’t spent enough time with you. People were starting to shuffle out, but you stayed, chatting with Renjun until only four remained. Chenle’s parents had gone to bed long ago. You were almost caught up to him on drinks, your laughs longer and your movements slower.

Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been as brave as to walk up to you and ask you to stay the night. He didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, either. He just didn’t want you to leave yet.

“Chenle,” Renjun scolds, swatting his shoulder. “You can’t ask something like that so casually.”

“You want me to stay here? With you?” Your voice was higher than normal. Chenle accredited it to the alcohol raging in your system.

“I like when you’re here.” Chenle nodded. “You make everything calm.”

Renjun scrunched up his face, slamming his forehead into his palm. “(Y/N), you should probably go home—”

“No, it’s okay.” You brushed him off. “I’m okay with staying.”

Oh, he was in love with you. There was no other explanation for the way his heart skipped a beat when those words came out of your mouth.

Chenle doesn’t remember the rest of that night, but he does recall waking up next to you in the morning and freaking out. Alcohol made him brave, but it didn’t save him from the red-hot embarrassment of the next day.

“I didn’t even realize…” you trailed off, a small smile forming on your face. “You picked me.”

“I’ll always pick you,” Chenle responds easily, like second nature.

Mark decides it’s time for him to leave, but Chenle’s mind is still reeling with memories. With all of the firsts you said you wished you could relive. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t figure out what the fuck this feeling is. As the two of you climb into bed, he’s so distracted, he can’t fall asleep, even with you curled into his chest.

“(Y/N),” Chenle groaned when he saw you in the practice room mirror. “You gotta stop showing up here if you don’t want me to fall in love with you.”

It was a joke. Sort of.

“Right, and let you forget to eat? I think not.” You fought back every time, unphased by the way he so casually admitted he’s starting to fall for you.

At least, that was his idea of admitting it.

You walked over with the bags in your hand, sitting down on the practice room floor next to him. 

“I haven’t even been here that long,” Chenle defended himself. “I would’ve eaten after I left.”

You unloaded the contents, opening boxes. “I can go if that’s what you want.”

“Not what I said.” For some reason, he felt a sudden burst of courage. He’s known you for four months at this point, and something about today felt…right. “I was serious, you know.”

“About what?” You grabbed the drinks from the carrier.

“You.”

“What?” You recoiled, looking at him in confusion.

He contemplated telling you to forget it. That it didn’t matter, and thank you for the food instead. If you didn’t feel the same way for him, he’d be devastated. And then you’d leave him for good and take all the food with you. He was starving.

“If you keep doing nice things for me, I’m gonna fall for you.” As if he hasn’t already.

You paused, but Chenle didn’t miss the blush on your face. Clearing your throat, you looked away from him and took a deep breath. His fists clenched as he awaited your rejection, but the longer the silence stretched, the more he felt you might want him to.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it,” you finally said and brushed your hair behind your ears. Reaching forward for the food again, you gave Chenle a shocked look when he grabbed your wrist.

“You’re right. I’m not going to fall for you. I already did.”

Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as his words settled in the air around both of you. With his heart racing, he released your wrist and intertwined your fingers instead.

“I really, really like you.”

“You should really eat your food before it gets cold.” You pulled your hand from his and pushed the box closer to him.

He stared blankly at the wall, noting the sudden chill on his skin that you left behind. A sinking feeling encapsulated his chest, and he knew he ruined everything. You looked like you were ready to run.

“Forget I said anything,” he told you. “I’m sorry if that was weird.”

“Eat,” you commanded again. “I’m not talking about this with you until I know you’ve eaten. If you don’t, we’ll go off on a tangent and you’ll be starving all night.”

“Does that mean you—”

“Yes, Chenle.” You interrupted him. “Yes, I really, really like you too, which is why I want to make sure you eat.”

At that moment, Chenle realized that if he walked outside and randomly dropped dead, he’d be okay with it now that he’s gotten that confession out of you. There wasn’t a damn thing that could top that. Everything else in life would be subpar to today, so there was no point in trying.

You and Chenle ate in silence. He kept stealing glances at you, catching you doing the same to him. If all he had to do in order to get you to talk about your feelings with him was eat, he’d do it, albeit probably a bit too fast for his own good.

Chenle runs his fingers through his hair, his thumb tracing gentle shapes against the bare skin of your arm. These memories have no business popping up in the middle of the night. He has practice tomorrow. He’ll be so off his game, the other members will want to kill him.

Usually, he has no problem falling asleep, especially with you right beside him. Over the past year, you’ve probably spent more nights with him than you have at your own place. He teases you for it all the time, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Closing his eyes, he listens to the soft sounds of your breathing and allows himself to feel the way your body slots with his so easily. Everything about you is perfect. About the two of you together. He would toss and turn, but no way is he going to disturb you. Even if he can’t sleep, he’d never screw up your schedule on purpose.

“It’s so pretty.” You were in awe, staring at the sunset from Chenle’s backyard. He’d set up a picnic date for the two of you, and afterward, you were watching the sun fade below the treeline while lying on top of a red blanket.

His fingers were intertwined with yours, something that had become so normal for you. Two weeks since his confession, and it was the second date he planned. He wondered, obsessed over, even, what your thought process was on all of this. Were you happy? Did he make you happy?

He wanted to kiss you when he confessed to you. And while he came close to it on your first date, he decided against it. It had to be perfect. Nothing was good enough for you in his mind, especially when all he wanted was to make sure you knew just how he felt about you.

How was he supposed to tell you that?

He’d already said he fell for you, but that didn’t begin to cover it. Not really. You made him want to put in effort, made him crave your happiness like it was the very oxygen he breathed. At the same time, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to kiss you. Hell, he’d already dreamed of it, for fuck’s sake, so that definitely wasn’t the issue.

Lost in thought, he’s only snapped out of it by the way you rolled over, lying on your stomach so you can get a good look at his face. You rested your head on your right palm, your left finding his bicep.

“You’re so perfect,” he hummed, twirling your hair with his fingers. “Could look at you forever.”

“Some people might have an issue with that.” You laughed.

“We’re the only ones that matter,” he responded.

Your smile slowly faded, a look of longing replacing it as your gaze softened.

God, he wanted to kiss you. He needed to.

All thoughts of the perfect moment have fled from his brain. Any moment would be perfect as long as it’s you.

He sat up and you leaned forward, and before he knew it, his nose brushed yours. Your eyes fluttered shut in preparation. The heat of the sun sank into his skin. Your perfume wafted from you, intertwining with the air and suffocating him in the best ways. If he could pick one scent to smell for the rest of his life, it would be yours.

Was it normal to have these thoughts so early?

Why was he thinking of that right now? Literally the worst possible time.

“Can I?” he whispered, scared to ruin everything.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your mouth, he kissed you. Everything about you was soft, so he shouldn’t have been so surprised to find your lips the same way. His hands shook as he touched your waist.

He was already in big trouble. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to stop there. His heart thudded so loud, he was halfway sure you could hear it, too. It felt like sparks flew between you two, absolute electricity coursing through every single one of his veins, heating up his bloodstream and making the thought of pulling away from you the absolute worst case scenario.

You moved away first, gasping for breath. Chenle craved tugging you back to him. His body reacted to you in ways it had never reacted to anyone else. He didn’t want to take it too far, but he sure as hell didn’t want to stop, either.

He couldn’t describe the way you felt. The way you tasted. Everything about you was so heart-achingly perfect, he wanted to experience you all the time. He wanted to rewind time so he could kiss you again for the first time, and he’d do it over and over and over again.

Something about first kisses set him on fire. He was absolutely sure he’d kiss you more. In fact, he was seconds away from it. But the adrenaline coming from the very first brush of your lips on his wasn’t something he’d ever be able to recreate.

“Again.” You leaned in once more.

He met you in the middle eagerly, hand finding the back of your head before he turned you so you were lying on your back. Half of his weight pressed against you, but he did his best to keep himself lifted up so you weren’t uncomfortable.

Unforgettable heat swarmed him, the sun caressing his skin as your fingers gently traced down the back of his neck. Goosebumps formed, but he could hardly pay attention to them. The entire world was gone, and you were everything, the only person remaining in a sea of nothingness. He wanted you. Needed you.

This was technically your second kiss, but in his mind, it was still the first since they happened almost at the same time. He hadn’t stopped to take a breath in much too long, but he’d rather suffocate than separate from you.

He stopped when your breath hitched, completely lost in the sound. When he wasn’t focusing on your mouth anymore, he realized why—his hand had somehow found its way to your upper thigh. His face burned as he removed it.

“I didn’t…” he trailed off, scanning over your face for any hint of what you were feeling. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You chuckled at him, pushing his shoulder. “You wish that excuse would work on me.”

The sky faded into a beautiful lilac color, the kind that only appeared when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Clouds drifted effortlessly, stars beginning to shine.

“Should we go inside?” Chenle asked. “It’ll get cold without the sun.”

Whenever he looked at you, he knew you were different. He couldn’t place how, but nobody else had ever made him feel the way you do. Like his heart was going to burst out of his chest while simultaneously stopping and also skipping every other beat. He didn’t even know how he was alive anymore.

In the last two weeks since his confession, the boys had told him how much happier he was. How he was striving with more effort lately and trying his best at any given moment of the day. You were his motivation. You made him want to be the absolute best he could be, and even as new as the relationship was, he’d already known you for months—he was nervous about you deciding you wanted something else. Someone who wasn’t him.

The moment before replayed in his head, and he heard that breath hitch on repeat while he awaited your answer. He did his best to stop thinking about it, but nothing worked. All he wanted to do was kiss you again, over and over and over until the literal end of time.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Let’s go inside.”

His cheeks redden just thinking of that memory. The first time he ever kissed you, and he royally fucked up because his hand didn’t know how to stay put. At this point, it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fall asleep. He hates the idea of leaving you in bed alone, but he’s only going to disturb you if he doesn’t plan on sleeping.

Sliding away from you carefully, he quietly gets up and heads into the kitchen. He runs his fingers through his hair. His hands down his face. He must be sentimental today, because he can’t stop thinking about you for the life of him. Every memory from the last year pokes at his head, and he has no clue how to handle it.

Patting his cheeks, he heads over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Photos of the two of you are framed up on the wall. There’s one picture in particular he always says is his favorite, but he refuses to tell you why.

The two of you were sitting on the floor, and you had the cutest glare on your face. He sees the adoration gleaming in your gaze even though you look about ready to strangle him. In your defense, you probably were. He lets out a tiny laugh, tracing over the frame. 

There’s even one with Chenle between you and Jisung, and a group picture with you and the boys. Chenle loves his friends dearly, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms says a lot about both your relationship with them and his potential future with you. Everyone in his life loves you. You’re the one they call when Chenle’s upset or if he’s off his game, and no matter when or where this is happening, you show up to make him feel better.

He could be having the worst day of his entire existence, and a simple ‘I love you’ passing from your lips has him forgetting everything shitty about the world. Looking back at the pictures, he’s drawn back into memory.

He heard the birds outside his window before he saw the gleaming sun. His eyes fluttered open while he groaned quietly at the sudden change of brightness. Your body was like a fireball, your skin searing hot against his, but it did little to bother him. His groan turned into a sigh of content, and he wrapped his arms around you tighter. Fingertips trailing down your bare spine, he kissed your forehead.

Three months together, and every night spent with you made him fall deeper in love. He’d never known peace as he did at that moment. No interruptions, just the two of you basking in each other’s embrace.

He could’ve stayed like that forever—he wanted to, but glancing at the clock, he realized how close it was to noon. Jaemin would be there soon, and the last thing Chenle needed was him in his house when you were naked in his bed.

He reluctantly got up, dressing himself before grabbing some clothes for you. You have a drawer, multiple, actually, but he picked his own T-shirt for you to wear. When he made it over to you, you were stirring.

“You got up.” You pouted at him, staring at him through half-closed eyes. “And you have clothes on.”

Chenle laughed. “Sorry, love. Jaemin will be here soon.”

“It’s that late?” you asked.

Chenle nodded, setting the clothes down next to you. He kissed you softly, gently, a kiss so barely there it left you leaning forward to try to continue it. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb along your skin.

You didn’t need help getting dressed, but he did it anyway. He loved the way you looked in his T-shirts, and even though it’s long enough to cover you, no way he’d risk it. Once you were finished, the two of you got ready for the day. You brushed your teeth together, he watched you brush your hair, and by the time you’re done, Jaemin was walking in the front door.

The three of you sat on the floor around Chenle’s coffee table, playing a game. He can’t remember what the game was anymore, only that you were terrible at it and that he loved winning.

Jaemin teased both of you the whole time, ruffling Chenle’s hair on multiple occasions. As much as he’d love to deny it, Chenle enjoyed that Jaemin liked the two of you together. It was almost like an affirmation, even if he didn’t need one.

Being the professional picture-snapper he was, Jaemin took the picture now hanging up on Chenle’s wall. You, with your arms crossed over your chest and a big pout on your face, and Chenle, smiling widely at you with such adoration in his eyes it should’ve been impossible.

“Lele?” Your soft voice breaks him away from his memory. He turns to you quickly, heart instantly halting in his chest when he sees his shirt on you.

“What are you doing up?” he asks.

“I was gonna ask you that.” You rub your eyes, feet shuffling on the floor as you walk over to him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies and takes you in his arms with ease. “Didn’t want to bug you, sunshine.”

You don’t respond. All you do is bury your head in his chest and breathe him in. He runs his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head. With all the lights off, the only illumination is the full moon outside as it casts shadows on the ground. The faint blue makes you that much more ethereal to him.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Mm,” you hum in response. “This is nice.”

Chenle smiles. “Yeah, it is. Always is.”

After a bit of silence and rocking you gently, an idea sparks. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding the playlist he made specifically for when he thinks about you, and sets it on the counter. You stare at him in tired confusion, but when one of his arms wraps around your waist, you catch on.

“What are you doing?” Humor is laced in your voice, but the sweet look on your face tells him his actions are making you happy. That’s his goal, constantly. All he wants is to make you happy.

“Checking something off the bucket list,” he replies, slowly turning you to the soft beat.

“Something’s missing,” you say as he twirls you.

He steals a glance at the way his shirt rides up your legs, showing just a peek of your panties beneath it.

“What?” he asks, pulling you back to him.

“Sing to me.” You place your hand on his chest.

His heart betrays him at that moment. It rages, and he knows you can feel it. Chenle sings in front of thousands of people all the time, but something about you is different. Something about you right now is different.

“What’s going on up in there?” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’ve been all weird today.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “Everything. From the moment we met up until this…it keeps repeating over and over again.”

“Welcome to my world,” you replied, grasping his shoulders. You massage them gently as you sway along with the music.

The confession from you makes him smile. At least he’s not the only one doing constant circles in his head. He calms a bit, and when a new song plays, he sings to you. Your body immediately relaxes into his, as if every stress you’ve ever had has left you without hesitation.

Chenle loves to sing. He does it all the time, and he only wants to keep getting better. To have someone like you as his partner, someone who supports him endlessly and genuinely loves his voice…it’s unparalleled.

He’s not sure how long the two of you are like this, or how long he’s singing for, but song after song, all he knows is that you’re smiling. You’re looking at him with unmatched adoration in your eyes, pure love. Nobody else has ever looked at him in this way, and he doesn’t want them to.

He wants to stay here with you and watch you love him in ways he’s never been loved before.

He stops. His singing fades out, and he furrows his eyebrows as he finally, finally realizes what’s been happening to him. You tilt your head, able to ask him questions without saying anything. His chest feels like it’s going to burst.

You’re it. 

You’re everything, and he’s going to marry you.

He’s going to spend the rest of his life striving to make sure you love him as much as you do right now, if not more.

It seems like you feel it, too. Your face softens and you reach up to trace along his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, chasing the warmth like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“I know.” You grin so wide, Chenle almost thinks it’ll split your face in two.

“Good.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “I hope I’m doing a good job in showing you that every day.”

You pause, hands trailing down from his cheeks to his shoulders. “I have never once doubted that you love me, Lele. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I promise you I’ve never felt better,” he replies. “Just checking in with you.”

“You do so much more than you realize. No matter how busy you are, you text me to tell me you love me or that you’re thinking about me. You practice non-stop with the boys but you still make an effort with me when you could easily use that as an excuse. There is not one thing I could ask for that you don’t already do.” You press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll never doubt you.”

“Sometimes I worry,” he admits. “You make me…want to be better. In every way possible. In my career, in my life, with you. And if I’m not being better every day, then I don’t deserve you.”

“Chenle.” You give him a pointed look. “When I think back to the first day we met, I remember how…how you acted from the first time you spoke to me. At the time, I really thought I was crazy, but I knew you’d be someone to me. You didn’t even know me, but you were so kind. And now that we’re here like this, you haven’t changed. There’s no getting better. You’re already the best.”

“How do you do that?” He chuckles, kissing your forehead.

“Do what?”

“Know exactly what to say.”

“That’s my special talent,” you tell him.

“We should get back to bed,” Chenle says, sleep weighing on him. “Meeting the boys tomorrow.”

He grabs his phone from the counter, his heart full and warm as he leads you back to his bedroom. This time, as he’s lying with you pressed to his chest, he’s able to fall into his dreamland.

Despite his lack of sleep, Chenle is full of energy the next day. He wakes up and makes you coffee just the way you like before sitting on the edge of the bed by your sleeping form. When he sets the cup on the nightstand, you stir, turning over to face him.

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble, even though you have no idea what time it is.

Chenle chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? You can stay here if you want. Wanted to tell you I love you before I left.”

“Love you, too,” you say with a tired smile, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Drink your coffee before it gets cold. I’ll grab dinner for us on my way back.”

Walking away from you feels like someone’s trying to rip his heart out of his chest. You’re an extension of him at this point, and after his sudden realization last night, all he wants to do is spend the day curled up with you.

Luckily for him, his day passes by pretty quickly. He got a lot done today, and he was proud of that. You’d be proud of him, too. He’s itching to get home and tell you everything that happened. Staying true to his word, he picks up your favorite takeout.

He’s going to be honest with you about what was going on with him yesterday. It’s the right thing to do—and in a perfect world, you’ll feel the same way he does. He hasn’t felt this nervous since he admitted his feelings for you. Even though that side of him feels worlds away now, he remembers it like it was yesterday.

But the restaurant isn’t the only stop he makes.

He’s shaking by the time he gets back. Is a year really enough time? It is for him, but what if you think he’s insane?

When he arrives, he’s not expecting what you’ve done at all. The main lights are off, but a dim golden glow from the strips along the wall and the candles illuminate the room enough. He sets the bag down on the table, completely forgetting about the food as he searches for you.

“(Y/N)?”

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” you tell him, walking out of his bedroom while still putting in an earring.

His throat dries. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words could ever justify the way you look right now. You put on a dress, one of his favorites, and he’s in jeans and a T-shirt.

You kiss his cheek. “I figured you deserve something nice to come home to.”

“You’re my something nice.” He wraps his arm around your waist. “Should I change?”

“We’re not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “Just relax and enjoy your gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Oh, I can get on board with that.” He allows you to lead him back to the table.

Once he’s taking the food out of the bag, he keeps stealing glances at you. You put in all this effort for him, and he knows how much work it must’ve been to hang up all these lights. The golden glow looks ethereal against your skin.

“Before we eat, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He clears his throat to stop it from collapsing in on itself, but it doesn’t work.

“What’s up?” You set your elbow on the table and rest your head on your palm. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect, actually.” He takes a deep breath, reaching to grab your free hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You bite back a laugh.

“You can’t make fun of me for what I’m about to tell you.” He gives you the most serious look he can muster, and you nod.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you reassure him. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I…I want to love you forever.” He gulps. “And when I think of everything we’ve gone through and been through together, I seriously can’t imagine ever trying to have anyone else fill this spot you hold in my life.”

You perk up a bit, gaze staring into his. God, he loves how interested you are in what he has to say. How you’re listening to him so intently. His thumb rubs over your knuckles as he tries to think of the words he wants to use.

“I want to marry you. Call me crazy if you want, tell me you hate the idea, that’s fine, but I had to tell you. We obviously can’t get married now, or probably any time soon because of my contract, but I want you to know that it’s what I want. It’s what’s going to happen if you want it, too.”

You clear your throat and cover your mouth with your hand, eyes welling. Chenle’s heart aches seeing this reaction, knowing you feel as strongly as he does. He reaches into his pocket and puts a small box on the table in front of you.

“It’s not the real thing. Not yet. But I want you to know how serious I am, because if I was able to marry you, I would’ve done it yesterday.” He opens it, revealing a simple band in it. “Subtle enough where people won’t ask questions, but we’ll know.”

“Chenle, are you being serious right now?” You sniffle. “This is a very cruel prank.”

“The guys and I sat down together today to write a song. I think you’ll love it, so when we record it I’m sneaking you a copy. Anyway, we were there for twenty minutes, and words were just flowing out of me. I wrote about you. About how you make me feel, and I think anyone who knows about us will understand that when they listen to the song.”

He pauses to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“I want you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life proving to you why I deserve that. Let me put this ring on you, and this can be the start.”

You quickly wipe your face as you nod. He takes your left hand, grabs the ring out of the box, and slips it on your middle finger.

“One day, this will be real.” Chenle catches another one of your tears. “I love you. There is not one thing in this world that could change that.”

His heart pounds in his chest as he watches your reaction. He wants to touch you and kiss you after pouring his thoughts out to you, but he needs to make sure you’re feeling the same way. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you.

His palms are sweaty and he can barely sit still. You groan, giving one last aggressive swipe below your eyes before you launch up from your chair and end up in his lap. You bury your head in his neck, squeezing him tighter than you should. He instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, softly chuckling at your outburst.

“You better not change your mind.” Cupping both of his cheeks, you try your best to look angry. “If you do, I’m marrying you anyway.”

His own vision blurs at the sight of you. You love him as much as he loves you, and you want to be with him forever.

You want to be with him forever.

The emotions rioting inside him surprise even him, and he blinks quickly to try and suppress the tears. It’s no use, because as soon as you notice, you start crying again. He groans and drops his head back on the chair, squeezing you closer to him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Chenle says.

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His mouth finds yours, both of you falling into each other’s rhythm. Saltiness from your tears lingers on your lips. He weaves his fingers through your hair, but no matter what he does, you’re just not close enough.

Pulling away from you, he rests his forehead on yours. “You should eat, sunshine.”

“You expect me to be able to eat after all of that?” You furrow your eyebrows. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“You’ll be sad if it gets cold,” he reminds you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be sad again,” you whisper.

All thoughts escape him. Nothing else exists except for you, wrapped around him like a damn koala bear. He rests his hand on your thigh and lets your words sink deep into him.

Moments like these are hard to explain, he thinks. He’s only like this around you, so lost in his connection with you that he’s got nothing else on his mind. Anything and everything you say to him is tattooed in the darkest ink on his soul, until he’s covered in everything he wants to be for you.

“Promise me you’ll always look at me like that.” You break the silence, running your fingers through his hair and smiling.

“I promise.” He nods, barely realizing how he’s leaning forward.

Your eyes flutter shut as he inches closer. He kisses you softly, almost as if he fears he’ll break you. His fingers splay out across the small of your back and he traces shapes into the soft fabric of your dress. You’re overwhelming. His love for you is, too. So much so, he feels as if he’s going to burst out of his skin. He’s going to wake up and everything will have been a dream, because there’s no way he’d ever done anything in his life to deserve someone like you.

You hum into his mouth, rolling your hips once. His breathing stutters as his first instinct is to lift toward you. At first, he wants to stay like this, you clinging onto him like you’d be lost without him, but when you grind down a second time, he feels a twitch in his pants.

It’s been over a week since the last time he’s been inside you thanks to his schedules. And now you’re on top of him, wearing his favorite dress of yours, and kissing him like you’ll never be able to feel him again after tonight.

He’s tired, but he’s never too tired for you. Brushing your hair away, he leans down to kiss your neck, licking the expanse of your soft skin. Your pulse thunders beneath his tongue, and he has to fight the urge to bite down.

Touching you like this is different when he knows he’ll never lose you. You’re his forever.

His lips press against the sensitive spot below your ear, and the short moan escaping you just about sends him up the wall. When he pulls away to get a good look at you, your eyes are dark, lips already swollen from the way he kissed you.

He tries to catch his breath while he silently asks you if this is what you want. You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Standing, he lifts you up until your legs are secure around his waist, and he grabs your ass with one hand and the back of your head with the other.

Mouths attached, he doesn’t separate from you until he’s setting you down on his bed. He barely has time to appreciate the candles you lit in here, too, the soft scent of vanilla flooding his senses. You already try to push his T-shirt up, anything to feel his skin on yours. He obliges, pulling it over his head before returning to kissing you like his life depended on it. When your hands find the button on his jeans, he grabs your wrist.

“Patience, baby.” Chenle runs his fingers up and down your thigh. “We have the rest of our lives. Let me take my time with you tonight.”

Just like that, you’re putty in his hands. He smirks at the realization. Sneaking his touch up your leg, the hem of the dress moves to accommodate him. He stops when he feels the lace of your panties.

“Did you dress up for me twice, sunshine?” he hums.

“Always,” you say, shamelessly staring at his lips. “Do you love me, Chenle?”

His whole body vibrated from those words. They made him feel at a frequency he hadn’t quite reached yet, and all he wanted to do was rip that damn dress off.

“More than anything.”

He can’t really say it’s ‘like second nature’ anymore. There’s nothing second about it. This is you. Anything to do with you is first nature, no matter what it is. His world revolves around you, everything he does is based on what you want, and he wouldn’t change that in any way.

“Show me,” you whisper, so intoxicating he almost crumbles to his knees right in front of you.

How embarrassing that all it takes is two words to have him give in to you. He’s straining against his pants now, his cock aching to be free and buried inside you.

“Don’t worry. I will.” He kisses you again, soft and sweet like his hand isn’t so, so close to your dripping, eager core. Heat radiates from you, and all he wants is to be consumed by it.

He drags your panties down your legs, nails gently scratching your skin on the way down. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you try to regain your breath, but he loves the way you’re so desperate for him. The way you want him just as much as he wants you.

He doesn’t want to be patient anymore. Every cell in his body is urging him to connect with yours, but he wants to take care of you. That side of him always wins, otherwise both of you would probably be done already.

His finger dances along your entrance. He inhales sharply as your wetness coats his skin. You move your hips toward him, practically begging him for stimulation. He teasingly nudges your clit, pleasantly surprised by the way your body jolts.

Mouth brushing yours, he takes the second of distraction to slide two fingers inside you. As your lips part to release a moan, he mirrors the action, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly, slowly thrusts his hand.

Your walls squeeze so hard, he curses. He could fuck you a thousand times, and you’d still be as tight as you are right now. His heart goes straight into overdrive, but all the blood in his body is shooting down to his cock. He’s painfully hard, rocking back and forth gently.

He kisses you, lips working against yours in a perfect harmony. Your sounds are his favorite. He loves knowing it’s him making you feel this way, that he has the power to make your knees weak and your pussy throb.

He lets out a moan when he scissors his fingers, trying his best to prepare you. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to last long tonight. His pace quickens, sounds of your slickness filling the room.

You call out his name, back arching as you grasp desperately at his shoulders. He leans in and kisses your cheek, making sure to press his palm into your clit every time he’s knuckle deep. 

“You’re perfect, baby,” he whispers with his lips against your ear, voice rough. “I love you so much. So fucking much.”

You tense, pussy clamping down hard on his fingers as your hips buck. He swears he can see the pleasure running up your spine in the way you arch and shake. Your nails dig into his shoulders, but he’s not in the right mind to care. Your mouth opens, sounds pouring out as you finish. He loves you all the time, but one of his favorite looks on you is when he watches you orgasm—your face so overcome with pleasure he caused…he would never get enough of it.

He keeps moving until he’s sure you’ve come down from your high. When he brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck your juices off, you watch longingly, the dark look in your gaze enough to have his cock twitching in his pants.

You slide off the bed, forcing him to take a couple steps back. He’s not sure what you’re going to do at first. Your struggle to reach your zipper, and as much as he wants to bend you over with the dress still on, he wants to be gentle with you tonight. He doesn’t get to make love to you often, and that’s all he’s going to do tonight.

Instead of watching you attempt to reach it, he turns you around and pulls you to him until your back is against his chest. His hand is splayed out across your stomach, holding you so you feel how hard he is.

“I’m going crazy,” you mutter, dropping your head back. “I need you so bad.”

He moves your hair out of his way, kissing the base of your neck quickly before he unzips you. Moving slowly on purpose, he lets his finger drag along your spine on the way down. You shiver, pushing yourself back into him.

“I’m gonna make love to you.” He finally lets himself bite down on your shoulder as he nudges the straps down. “For the rest of our lives. Nobody but me.”

“Nobody but you,” you respond, allowing the dress to pool at your feet.

He turns you around, hands immediately finding your ass and squeezing it. Within seconds, he has your bra unclasped and across the room. “So beautiful.”

When your hands find his jeans, he doesn’t stop you this time. You push them down his legs, desperate to have him inside you. Once his jeans are off, you palm him through his boxers, and he needs you so badly, that simple touch almost finishes him off. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He takes off the remaining fabric separating you two before leading you over to the bed. You lie in the middle, and he climbs on top of you. He kisses you passionately, tongue already dancing with yours, both of you more than ready. His cock is so hard, he’s only half convinced he won’t cum as soon as he’s in.

He nudges your clit with his leaking tip, moving down to your entrance to apply just enough pressure before pulling away. You whine, desperate for more.

“Chenle, please.”

His head dips down as he continues teasing you, wrapping his lips around your nipple. You whimper, running your fingers through his hair. Having you so desperate for him makes him want to give you everything you’re asking for, but something makes him wait.

“Please,” you cry out, lifting your hips up. “Need you.”

He’s ready to fall apart from you words alone. Pulling away from your chest, he reaches down to line himself up with you. He watches you closely as he pushes his throbbing cock into your quivering pussy. Your eyes roll back as you arch into him.

Your walls swallow him, velvet clamping down on him. He clenches his jaw as he bottoms out and fists the sheets next to your head.

“So perfect,” he whispers, kissing your jawline.

One of his favorite things about you is how unafraid you are to look at him. Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, and you try your best not to close them, but even like this, you never look away.

He’s fully inside you, his cock seated within your fluttering walls. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you, so he gently rocks his hips to help you adjust. He kisses you everywhere he can reach.

“You always take me so well,” he praises you, nipping the base of your neck.

He’ll never get over how perfectly he fits between your legs, like this space was made for him.

“Move,” you tell him, smacking his shoulder.

He lets out a soft chuckle, but lowers his mouth to yours as he starts a steady pace. You squeeze him so tight, it’s like your body doesn’t want to let him out of you. He pulls out until his tip is barely inside, and then pushes back in just as slowly. It wreaks havoc on your body, your wetness squelching every time he moves.

He wants you to feel all of him. Feel the entirety of his cock rubbing your walls with every thrust.

Somehow, it’s hotter this way. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin as he takes his time with you. Sure, he gets sweaty when he fucks you, but nothing compares to the close intimacy of love making—his chest brushing against yours with every thrust, long, sweet moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“You sing so pretty,” Chenle mutters, tonguing the sensitive spot below your ear. “You like the way I feel?”

Before he can even process what you’re doing, you wrap your legs around his waist and roll until you’re on top of him. He’s flat on his back, eyes flitting along your body like he hasn’t had a real chance to see it yet.

Candle light illuminates your skin, and the sight makes his cock twitch. He runs his hands along your sides, squeezing your hips.

Chenle likes being in control. He likes guiding you in a way that has you both in shambles by the end, and he truly underestimated how beautiful you’d look on top of him. You lift up, teasing him as slow as he was moving with you, but between the sight and the feeling, he feels an all too-familiar tingling sensation at the base of his length.

It’s too soon for him, so he decides to tug you down, holding you there while his eyes close and his head thuds against the mattress. He doesn’t need to say a word to you.

“Chenle.” You stroke a hand down his chest. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back for me.”

“Just…need a second.” He gulps.

When he finally catches his breath, he sits up, chest pressing against yours.

“This was supposed to be about you,” he says, moving back slightly to fit his hand between the two of you. “Showing you my love and everything.”

He finds your clit with his thumb, staring at you intently as your wetness makes it easy for him to rub circles. His other hand still firmly grips your waist, which only allows you to squirm instead of bouncing on him like you crave to do.

“I need to move,” you whimper, grinding down. “Please.”

He nods, loosening his grip on you. You brace yourself on his shoulders, finally taking his cock the way you want it. His nails dig into your thigh while he continues his work on your bud, and it only spurs you on. You move faster, no doubt trying to chase your orgasm.

His moans get louder, matching yours. If his hands weren’t so occupied, he’d want to squeeze your ass or tweak your nipples. Anything to bring you higher. He changes the patterns his thumb rubs, and it’s like a jolt of electricity runs through your body.

You curse, dropping your head on his shoulder as you nod. “Don’t stop, Lele.”

With both of you hanging so close to the edge, he waits until you’re sitting back down on his cock to buck his hips up. He doesn’t want to finish first, but he’s so close, all the warning signs of his impending high are getting far too real.

“Gonna cum,” he tells you, releasing your thigh to grab your ass.

Your walls clamp down on him hard, a long, pleasured sound escaping you as you grind down on him. Back arching, your head falls back. Your orgasm hits both you and Chenle like a freight train, and within seconds, everything inside him explodes, and he’s spilling his cum deep inside you while telling you over and over again that he loves you.

You crumple into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, whispering praises to you between head kisses.

“I’m gonna lay you down, sunshine,” he says.

You nod, and he turns you so he can put your back on the mattress. He carefully pulls out of you, putting his boxers back on before going into the bathroom to grab you a towel. This is one of his favorite ways to see you. Your eyes are closed, hands on your cheeks. You look like he’s fucked all the energy out of you, and he loves that he has the capability to do that.

He cleans you up, then grabs a clean pair of panties for you and one of his T-shirts.

“I have an idea,” he says.

“What is it?” You wrap your arms around him.

“You pick whatever movie you want, and I’ll go warm up your dinner?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You fake a gasp. “Are you saying you’re going to feed me in bed?”

“After all of that, I’d agree to just about anything you want.” He chuckles when you shove his shoulder. Grabbing your hand, he twirls the band on your finger. “Wait here for me?”

When he walks out of the room, he stops at the doorway to watch you excitedly lunge for the remote. It doesn’t take long for him to warm up the food, turn off the lights, and blow out the candles in the kitchen.

The rest of the night is spent with the two of you sitting against the headboard, laughing along to your favorite movie while eating your favorite takeout. So many thoughts have come and gone from Chenle’s brain in the past couple days alone, but he’s more than happy he gets to sit here with you every night for the rest of his life.

He’s lost in your laugh and the way you smile at him and how you make his heart race with the simplest things. None of the other members knew about the ring he bought you, but he’ll tell them soon.

After the food is gone, Chenle cleans it up. There’s still half a movie left, so when he gets back, he pulls the comforter back so you can cuddle up to him for the remainder. Even though the candles have long since been put out, vanilla still clouds the air.

“Love you,” Chenle whispers, kissing your temple.

“Love you, too.” You sigh in content, resting your head on his chest.

He knows that means you’re only seconds from sleep, and he rubs your arm soothingly. The movie continues to play, but neither of you are paying attention anymore—you’re asleep, and Chenle’s thinking about what kind of wedding dress you’ll wear.

[emotsper]

Hi!!!!!!!!

You’re like the szai person on tumblr, and even tho I’ve been playing proseka for like two years, I still don’t read a lot of the stories………

So as the certified szai tumblr person, since you kinda own the tag, would you like to explain to me why szai is such a popular ship? I really didn’t read much of anything…

Have fun!!

let me be brief (1/350) (no bc its actually gonna be a long ramble. apolocheese.) (also sorry if formatting is awful im a mobile user and I literally just type whatever)

FOR REAL THOUGH. PLEASE JUST DO ME A FAVOR AND READ MMJ MAINSTORY...... not only its a good source of szai cocaina you get to experience the entire mmj mainstory. i was normal before mmj mainstory and i was less normaler after mmj mainstory.

it simply went even more downhill when i read tenshi no clover. genuinely the one event story that first made me cry (second one was ice drop event but thats a bit biased)

okay now lets get to the main meat of it. szai.

admittedly i was kind of normaler early on but one of my tipping point was Chasing the radiance event especially chapter 7. please read/watch it. please. this specific chapter sent me into my trip of insanity when it comes to szai. it also opened my eye to specific scenes in their side stories/mmj mainsto that i skimmed early on especially bc im a jp only player so fan tls may not be super accurate back then 💔

to start off, airi was a girl that was often made fun of for being tomboyish, and seeing idols for the first time made her feel a glimmer of hope that maybe she can also bring hope to other people. she finally manages to reach her goal and became an idol after several of failed auditions (very deserved especially after her hard work) while shizuku became an idol purely out of luck from the idol grand prix context her friends convinced her to join 😭😭 From the start their relationship feels a little bit doomed with how jealousy is kind of unavoidable from airis side. but against all odds, you get to see airi go to shizuku and cheering her up by giving shizuku her towel and telling her to wipe those tears especially with such a pretty face like hers (MACHINE CLANG CLANG RACK SFX) they are so crazy for this. especially when you realize that shizuku kept the towel until now. (the towel is her area upgrade item)

from this point, airi thought nothing much of shizuku yet other than her being her new rival (and that shes rly pretty) but shizuku sees airi as her main reason to keep going in this idol stuff at that time, and that was enough.

(okay purely for this next part im forgetting a bit so do remember it may not be fully accurate 🙏)

after training minori for awhile, szai went thru a mini divorce arc where airi was telling minori that being an idol isnt all fun and games and that minori should consider quitting, continuing on with how she flopped in the industry bc she was more popular as a reality show figure. but shizuku disagreed and kept saying how airi was an idol through and through and that she shouldn't have quit, but that just tipped airi off and she shouted at shizuku, unloading all her pent up jealousy that she had for awhile now. iconic as hell scene in the most angsty way possible.

u can easily tell this wasn't received well by shizuku. at all. airi you done fucked up. shizuku left her idol group the next day.

(addendum i forgot to add. shizuku truly believed that airi was the first and if not, the only person who sees shizuku as shizuku hinomori herself, without all the idol filter that people plastered on her. so when airi admitted that she was jealous w shizuku getting everything good in the industry, that basically broke shizuku. (color of myself is a nice one to read when it comes to this 🙏 also the i am we are event is a crazy good conclusion to shizukus current arc))

at this point airi realizes just how much shizuku was influenced by her past actions without her fully knowing about it. girl you done fucked up.

this scene is still one of the biggest and strongest kryptonite for szai fans. especially with what happens after.

after confronting shizuku about her choice knowing full well its airis fault, airi, angry at herself, goes immediately to cheerful*days training place (she knows the place since theyve kinda shared the spot iirc) while the rest of mmj follows. she started threatening arisa and almost threw punches but she held back and told the rest of cheerful*days that shizuku is more of an idol than everyone in the room (i may be hallucinating this one. do lmk)

they finally leave the place, and both apologies to each other. at the same time, they both admitted that they were each others idol

and then shizuku goes to tackle hug airi. what the queer

that only concludes the mainstory section btw. upon realizing it may be too much of a recap instead of actual explanation ill be brief w the rest of it (keep in mind i dont read EVERY szai story, just ones i was made aware of bc im playing on jp and story content is a bit harder to see/consume)

Main szai crazies for szai fans

1. chasing the radiance ch7. airi yet talks again about how shizukus hands are slender and elegant while hers are short and chubby (she compared her hands to a manju) and shizuku was mad at her about this and went on a long tangent about how airis gentle hands were the ones who pushes minori and shizuku forward when they think they couldn't.

this is probably the fifth time ive read this story and it still gets me. i hate these fruitsssss. please read the full chapter ive linked it near the start this chapter is so special to me.

2. my ideal idol (airi 5, jp only event for now)

Bro i Dont Even Know What Else To Say. Just Look At This Card

but if we're being serious . lets talk about this one specific card and the story shall we.

this card was a blast to the past; pre-mmj szai again.

we start off with present mmj getting ready for their turn in the joint performance with a new junior idol group that they were paired with. airi was a bit nervous and shizuku noticed it. so she offered to do something that would hopefully lessen the nervousness for both of them. shizuku softly puts her head on airis back and whispered several word of encouragements. shizuku reminisces to the past.

pre-mmj szai. shizuku was very nervous as she was waiting for her first performance ever as an idol. airi was also there, and it was going to be her first too. airi shows up to say hi to shizuku but she noticed that shizuku was really nervous and at the verge of crying. airi knew she had to do something and told shizuku to turn around, shizuku did. shizuku lets out a little surprised yelp as she feels airis hands and head pressing against her back. she could hear airi muttering some encouragement but we never get to hear what the words were, only that shizuku thought about how warm airis hands were. (i need to be euthanized)

back to the present, shizuku says that she hopes that this gesture can somehow "repay" for what airi did to her back then. i think im losing it. sorry

OKAY IM DONE IM DONE ITS ALMOST 1 AM MY BRAIN IS NOT GOING TO WORK ANYMORE IF I KEEP TYPING..... my brain can handle so little. anyways i hope this wall of text ramble can convince u to read mmj mainsto and consume more mmj stories........ i admit its not perfect or whatsoever bc i haven't read the mmj mainstory for awhile and i have a wee memory issue thats paired with my deafness so. yeah. enjoy. haha.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Seventeen as fake dating scenarios

⟪‘97 + ‘98 + '99 line version⟫

other versions: ⟪‘95 + ‘96⟫

SEOKMIN: dumb and dumber.

He sighed as the two of you walked through the mall, hand-in-hand. You had asked him to go dress-shopping for your friend’s wedding. He was starting to think it was overkill – still, he could never say no to you.

“Okay, what’s bothering you?” you asked him. You were no fool: he’d been sighing every five minutes since you left the car.

He hesitated. “Isn’t this…”

“Isn’t this what?” you urged him, squeezing his hand.

“Isn’t this overkill?” he eventually burst, looking close to tears as he lifted your joined hands. “This. The dress shopping. Who are we trying to impress? Who’s going to care if we’re here together or not?”

You were dumbfounded. “What do you mean? If you didn’t want to come, I wouldn’t have forced you. You can so ‘no’ sometimes, you know.”

“How can I say ‘no’ when you’re just so cute?” he whined. “That’s it. Just actually date me. Stop playing with my heart!”

You could only stare at him, confused, dumb, baffled. “I’m—You—” You tried to find the words to say. Finally, you spoke, “Seokmin, I asked you out like two weeks ago.”

“What are you talking about?” He rolled his eyes. “We started this thing three whole months go. We’ve been fake dating way longer than two weeks.”

“I mean I literally asked you to be my actual, real, very serious boyfriend two weeks ago.”

He froze, eyes wide. “You did?” You nodded. A vague memory flashed through his mind – of you asking him if he wanted to make this real, him agreeing, nearly crying at the question. He screamed. “You did!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I guess I should’ve asked a second time when you were sober, just to clarify.”

MINGYU: fake dating because he’s tired of his popularity

It was hard to have a single logical thought when he was this close to you. It isn’t like you had a crush on the guy, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t fatally attractive up close. Especially when he’s pressing you against the lockers in a hallway.

“Are they gone yet?” he whispered in a manner that must have surely looked like he was mumbling sweet nothings into your ear. You were barely paying attention though, struggling to even find your breath. He sighed and repeated himself. “(Y/n), can you even hear me?”

You blinked rapidly, trying to erase any inappropriate thoughts and images flashing through your mind. “Right, right.” You glanced to the side before sighing in defeat and turning back to him, nose to nose with the most attractive and wanted man on campus. “Nope and they’re staring.”

“Let them stare.” He leaned even closer, as if to mimic a kiss for the people watching. “Don’t be so tense. They’re going to get suspicious and then we’ll be back in square one and they’ll be back to stalking me around campus. So relax.”

You almost growled at his words. “You try to relax with a metal locker digging into your back, idiot.”

“I’m just trying to make it convincing,” he pointed out with a tired sigh. “You think I like this any more than you do? This is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for— Oh!”

You were sick and tired of him. So you turned the tables, just about slamming him against the lockers instead, fingers wrapping around the collar of his stupid white form-fitting t-shirt as you did so.

“Now we’re even, pretty boy,” you whispered into his ear and glanced back at the girls who were staring wide-eyed.

MINGHAO: a family gathering

“Can’t you just be honest and tell them you’re single?” you wondered as Minghao ushered you towards the building his family had rented for their holiday. “I mean, seriously, why am I even needed here?”

Minghao sighed. “I already said I’d buy you lunch for a whole month. How much more do you need to stop complaining?”

“A donation from your fancy tea collection would suffice,” you suggested playfully.

He rolled his eyes, trying to hide his amusement. “Know your place, (Y/n).”

“Oh! What can I call you while we’re here?”

“… My name?”

“No, I mean—” You sighed. “For someone who organised this whole fake dating scheme, you sure do not seem to know much about fake dating. Mińghao, we need pet names.”

He seemed a little disturbed by the idea. “Just… call me whatever feels comfortable.”

“Pumpkin?”

“Is that really the first pet name that comes to your mind when you think of me?”

“If so?”

“Stop it. You can just call me— Auntie!” His grimaced turned into a bright smile as if by magic.

You blinked. “Auntie? Oh!” You followed his lead and smiled at the woman who came to greet you with open arms.

“Auntie, meet my darling girlfriend (Y/n),” he introduced you with a gentle hand on your back. “She’s a little nervous about meeting you guys.”

“Oh, no need to be nervous, dear! You’re practically a part of the family now. Look at you two! Such a handsome couple! Your children will be the most gorgeous little things one day.”

Paling, you nudged Minghao’s side and whispered, “I definitely want access to your fancy teas now.”

SEUNGKWAN: trying to impress an ex at a friend’s wedding

“Oh for crying out loud!” Seungkwan fussed about, hands already reaching up to fix your hair as if it was the worst fashion emergency of the 21st century. “Didn’t you brush your hair at all?”

“I brushed it plenty. If anything, a little too much,” you deadpanned and gently slapped his hand away only to take it into yours and pulling him closer. From the corner of your eye, you could see some of the other wedding guests smiling at the two of you, assuming it was a lovers’ quarrel. You took a deep breath before whispering to him, “Listen, I get that you want to make your ex realise what she lost, but you need to calm down a little.”

“I’m perfectly calm.”

He was anything but and even you, having known him a total of five days, could see that.

“Seungkwan,” you tried again and squeezed his hand a little tighter, offering a smile when he looked at you again. He forced himself to mimic your smile. “There we go. Listen, everyone here already thinks we’re as cute as, if not cuter than, the couple of the day. We don’t need to make it any more obvious to them.”

“Do you think she’s seen us yet?” he asked, gnawing on his bottom lip, nervous eyes glancing around the venue. You pulled him closer until he was forced to rest his hands on your waist.

“I’m sure she’s crying into her champagne glass in the bathroom.”

 “Right. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I just want to prove her wrong so badly.”

You lifted a hand to pat his cheek, prompting a weak smile. “How about we dance instead? To show ‘em how it’s done?”

VERNON: showing you how you should be treated

“Okay, so I’ve been doing some research-,” you started and Vernon groaned immediately.

“Please, for the love of god, tell me it wasn’t on TikTok this time.”

You had promised him you’d never lie. So you stayed quiet instead. He sighed loudly and lifted a pillow to his face to groan into it. Once he felt he was ready to face the world again, he dropped the pillow and gestured for you to continue.

You were glad to take the chance. “So I’ve done some research and there’s this thing I want to try.”

“I knew I should’ve listened to my gut when I agreed to help you,” he mumbled before nodding. “Alright, what is it this time?”

“Why are you so grumpy about this?” you laughed. “Vernon, you’re the one that suggested fake dating me to show me–“ you cleared your throat before lowering your voice to imitate him, “–how a real man should treat his girl. You have no leg to stand on here. Now, stand up, I want you to give this your all.”

“Fair enough,” he breathed out and followed your instructions.

As the two of you stood face to face, you told him, “Now, can you please push me against the wall, hold my hand, and kiss me like you mean it?”

He laughed nervously, fighting a grimace. “… I– Yeah, sure.”

Just as you began to think he was chickening out, he followed the instructions. 

Before you could even fully comprehend what had happened, you were pushed against the wall, your left hand tightly in his. You could feel his breath against your lips and, before long, just as you were on the verge of begging, he leaned into you, his lips pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your free hand reaching up to rest against his neck.

He had ruined other men for you just like that.

CHAN: fake dating for publicity

“The paparazzi are waiting on the corner of the street,” your manager informed you, “and Lee Chan’s car should be waiting outside. You just have to walk outside, to his car, and look pretty but mysterious.”

“Pretty but mysterious?” You wanted to question the way her mind worked, but it was clear there was some genius behind her questionable instructions. So you nodded. “Got it. I’ll do my best.”

“When these news break out, you’ll be the top story of every magazine for at least a week,” she continued with a bright smile, confident in her plan. “I’ve already “leaked” some material about you two. All you guys have to do is act the part. And you’re good at acting, right?”

“Right,” you breathed out.

“Good luck! Don’t screw this up,” she told you and opened the door to the outside.

You could already see a camera reflecting light in the distance. You tried not to care and headed straight to Chan’s Maserati. He pushed the door open a little before you got there, no doubt to give the paparazzi to get a clearer shot of him.

“Hello there,” he spoke when you sat down. “Where to?”

“Anywhere but here,” you grumbled. “This whole thing is driving me insane.”

“Tell me about it,” he sighed. “My manager told me to be careful to not make a mess. I don’t even know how I’d do that in these conditions.”

“Probably by going off the rails and out of the script. By creating a scandal.”

He paused before smiling mischievously. “Do you want to create a scandal?”

You squinted. “What do you have in mind?”

“You and I, an outrageous date. I know place.”

“With a concept that would make our managers cry?”

“Is there any other kind?”

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 5

I don’t know why this fic wrecked me so much. I’m literally the author. I know what’s gonna happen. I decided what’s gonna happen. Maybe I’m just tired. also does anyone remember that time I said I hated writing chaptered fics and swearing that each one was an anomaly/the last time I’d ever do it?

table of contents you’re still everything to me

Jamie Tartt is in your kitchen, puttering around so he can make a pot of tea and with an eyebrow slit like it’s 2013 again.

He sent you to go change so you slip on sweatpants and curl up on the sofa.

“Here you are, love,” he says, setting the tea down on the coffee table. He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, a respectable distance away.

“Why didn’t I see you?” you ask, staring out the window. The room is illuminated by the streetlight glow from the kitchen.

“How d’you mean?” responds.

“I visited mum last year. I was there all day. Why didn’t I see you?”

Jamie pauses. “I went early.”

“No, no you didn’t. There weren’t any flowers when I got there, and you said you brought her flowers.”

He’s quiet long enough for you to turn and check if he’s even still in the room.

He is.

“I… saw you,” he says eventually. “Didn’t think we’d be there at the same time, but-” he raises an eyebrow as punctuation. “Anyway, I was behind a tree. Saw you sit down and at first I thought I’d just wait in the car, but you started crying and- and I didn’t know if I should say somethin’ or leave. Did neither, so I just stayed. Placed the flowers and paid my respects once you left.”

You sip your tea in silence.

After a long time you say, “I’m glad you didn’t say anything.”

“She always believed in me,” he says by way of reply. “Even when I was being a little shit, she still made me feel like she wanted me around. Three people I want to make proud the most were her, mummy, and you.”

“Wanted,” you correct. “Wanted to make proud. Mum’s gone, and we’re not even friends.”

“D’you think we ever could be?”

You consider. There’s a part of you that feels like you’re friends already. He’s in your flat for fuck’s sake. 

“I don’t know,” you say. “Honestly I don’t. I’ve only ever loved you, Jamie, and for a long time I couldn’t see the future without you. I still can’t see it, I’m just living day-by-day sometimes.”

He chews his lip. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s asking all the hard questions tonight.

“I don’t hate you anymore,” you say frankly. “You were there for me when I needed you, and you leaving me was the worst. But it turned out good. And, I dunno, over the last few days I just keep wondering what’s gonna stop you from leaving again? Deciding you want someone else more, or my value means less?”

“Maturity.” He says it slightly drawn out, enunciating the consonants. He has a hint of a smile, which is stupid, because now you have one too.

“Seriously, though, I’m not like that anymore. Went of, was a prick, and it were shit. I’ve never heard mum that mad at me, Jesus Christ. Swore my ear off, she did. Didn’t have real friends, wasn’t happy, drank a lot of vanilla vodka. Keeley broke up with me for cheating on her, too, but not with sex, like; just on a date. Said shit about accountability.” 

He says it the same way he said maturity. 

“Hm,” you say. What else is there to say, really?

“Hm,” you say again as you reach to set your tea down and move to the other end of the couch so you’re pressed up against Jamie’s side.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Stay the night?” you whisper. “I don’t want to be alone and I have a guest bed.” 

Jamie nods.

—

It’s 3am, and you wake up with the sound of your mum saying your name still echoing in your room. You’d been dreaming, showing her the life you’d created and she’d smiled the whole time. She wasn’t wispy, she was the same mum who kicked a football with Jamie, sang horribly off-key with Simon, and convinced Georgie to even give him a chance in the first place. 

Tears pool in the corner of your eye.

I am not drowning. I can do this.

There’s a light tap on the door. “Come in,” you croak.

Jamie pushes it open and sticks his head in. “You’re crying,” he states. “Woke up a minute ago feeling shitty.”

You pat the bed and roll over.

Jamie climbs in under the covers and reaches tentatively for your hand. You let him take it.

“Just because I’m emotionally fragile does not mean that I forgive you,” you tell him tearfully. “I’m just pretending you never left and everything’s fine so I’m not going to hate myself for letting you into my room and letting you see me cry.”

“Alright,” he whispers. “C’mere. We’ll forget about it in the morning.”

You both move closer under the covers. You blame sleep and grief for the kiss you press to his clavicle, and you’re sure you’re dreaming they way he murmured, “How the fuck did I ever leave you?”

—

Jamie is true to his word. He doesn’t say a word when you wake up, just extricates himself from your hold and goes downstairs.

“I’ll be here for today,” he tells you once you drag yourself out of bed. “After that, you can decide how you feel about me. You don’t have to think about it today.”

It’s a four-hour drive to Manchester, and you’re not sure when it was decided that a) Jamie was coming with you, or b) that he’d be the one driving. He stops to pick up breakfast and coffee and doesn’t say a word about eating in his fancy car. You stare out the window and let the music playing over the speakers flow over you. It’s still raining, less than last night but still heavily. 

You grip Jamie’s hand with white knuckles and cry, truly cry in a way you only allow once a year but this time, there’s a new component.

I could’ve had this, you think. You and Jamie, together.

Something new tugs at your chest and you turn to look at Jamie. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he’s sniffling a but, trying not to let it show. 

You readjust in your seat so you’re leaning against his arm, and he tilts his head to rest on yours for a fraction of a moment. 

—

Your mum’s place is the same as it always is. Her name, printed in rounded letters. The dates, signifying that she did not spend enough time here. You place down your blanket and sit, back against the headstone as usual with your head tilted up to the sky. Jamie stands a good distance away, just watching with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Hi mum,” you begin, voice cracking. “Um, I’m sorry I don’t get up here much. But that’s what kids do, right? Leave the nest and only visit on holidays. 

Things are going well still. I’ve gotten offers for collabs with some brands, so I guess that’s cool. Jamie’s here, he’s by the tree though. I don’t- I don’t know what to do about it, mum. I wish you were here. You always saw things clearer than any of us, and I just don’t know. Turns out I didn’t ever stop loving him. Keeley thinks we have this weird cosmic connection or something. Do you believe in that? I think you might have. 

I- I think we’re going to see Georgie and Simon after this. I don’t really know. I haven’t been thinking straight today, you know. I just miss you.  I want to hug you again and I promise I’m okay on my own, it’s just hard sometimes. I thought- I thought-”

You’re unable to get the rest of the words out. It’s fucking sunny out and it feels wrong, like the world should remember this is a day to mourn a soul who should’ve been around longer. The sky should at least have the decency to cry along with you. 

A hand touches your face to wipe away a tear. You wrap your arms around Jamie’s neck and he just holds you for a minute, an hour, a year. Time might be passing but you’re unaware of it. He’s whispering in your ear, saying, “I’ve got you, it’s alright love, take as much time as you need,” but it’s only sounds to you. Sweet sounds, but not comprehensible words. 

It’s safe, here. It shouldn’t be, here on your mother’s grave with your cheating ex-boyfriend in your arms, but it doesn’t feel like that. 

It feels more like you’ve finally arrived home after years of travel. 

Jamie feels the same as he did before he made it to the Premier League, back when he’d nick flowers from a garden and climb through your window late at night, not like the prideful boy who broke your heart in five minutes over the phone. 

“I’m here as long as you need,” he murmurs, and you believe him. 

You pull away slightly to look him in the face. “I love you,” you say. 

He smiles, but only with his eyes as he swipes a thumb under your eye. “I love you too,” he says. “Don’t think I ever really stopped.”

It’s at that exact moment that the sun disappears behind a cloud and it begins to rain. 

table of contents

[ghostscrown]

I feel like I never actually realized how much I needed actually good autistic rep made by autistic people until now

I mean I saw these autistic characters made by neurotypical people and played by neurotypical actors (when actors are needed). And I was like "sure, these are mediocre reps and I despise them, and I wish there was actual good rep out there, but whatever, not gonna happen ig so this is all I got". Then I saw some shows by autistic people and with autistic actors coming out and I thought "oh, cool, I'm gonna watch them when I get the motivation" but then never actually watched them, you know ? I knew I wanted that, but it wasn't like... a priority.

But then I got some free time, "hey, what was the name of this show again ?" and. I ended up watching "A Kind Of Spark" and "Everything's Gonna Be Okay" in like two days. And the whole time I was on the verge of tears. When I tell you I even literally cried at some point in the second season of Everything's Gonna Be Okay.

Because I suddendly realized HOW MUCH I NEEDED these kinds of shows, and how STRAIGHT UP OFFENSIVE all – ALL – of the reps made by neurotypicals are. I never understood how important this was. Representation that is just SO REAL. That isn't the neurotypical interpretation of autism, but really what autism actually is. The difference is just SO MUCH MORE obvious now. All these details overlooked by neurotypicals, all their fantasies about autism. Now I'll never be able to even glance at their shows about autism. I already hated them but now I just think they shouldn't even be allowed to make them

I knew this was bad rep. But I never truly understood HOW BADLY it affected me to see these terrible reps everywhere, and HOW MUCH I craved for actual good rep, until I started crying like a baby the second I saw what good rep actually looked like and felt like to me.

It's so weird because I remember I felt the exact same way when I saw an actually good ace rep for the first time, but idk, I just didn't think I would feel the same with autistic rep for some reason ? Because we have autistic rep way more than ace rep... But it's bad rep so at the end of the day it just feels the same as no rep at all, or maybe it's even worse. The realization hit me like a truck and I am in tears lol

[foiledbyvoile]

played LaDS today after a near month long hiatus. proceeded to dump gems into every chance during the event because it ends in like 12 hours and it's my beloved Zayne and I'm getting that 5* memory 😤 was NOT prepared for a Dawnbreaker storyline ARE YOU KIDDING ME. here's my scattered thoughts. I reached a point where I had to write it out, and I am subsequently a puddle of tears.

"It's carrot-flavored."

idk why but this just...urgh. Like, he's making jokes but he's using the memories he (and us) have seen to do it. It's so bittersweet. drawing upon those memories he cherished for his entire life to form some kind of connection with the woman he has loved from across time and space for years.

example #2: making two seals with his evol, another core memory between them, LIKE 😭

and the way he is so effected by her. when she offers to use their combined evol to break the protofield, and he makes a noise and looks away? I've lost count of how many times they highlight his subtle (not very subtle at all) reactions to her. he is barely holding it together right now and I am here for it.

I got hung up on them sharing chocolates on the sofa (after he so casually reached into the fridge and grabbed them, like he'd done it hundreds of times before 👀), and how often he had to have sat there, alone, thinking of her.

but she's here now, she's really here, and then I got to thinking how this is a dream come true and a nightmare all at once for him; yes he loves her and he wants to be with her but not here, not in his world. he wants to be her Zayne, live that idyllic life he dreams of where he saves people rather than kills them but instead she's been thrust into his desolate iteration of Linkon city and it just hurts.

he's so sweet though, letting her believe that it's nothing more than a dream, when for him it's his reality. he wants to protect her, and that includes protecting her from himself because he is so terrified of hurting her that it quite literally haunts him.

and correct me if I'm wrong, but were they not essentially handing his pain back and forth? she would use her evol to purify him, and he would use his evol to take it back, putting himself in further agony to ensure she is safe, unharmed from himself?

"By then, I'll find you in your dreams, the real you."

OW. does she know who he really is? does she comprehend the gravitas to that fucking declaration, will he ever outright tell her that he is not her Zayne?? they keep swaying either way, but there's no way this isn't Dawnbreaker. (confirmed when the narrative referred to MC as "the girl.") I'm going to have to replay it again, but I don't think they ever make the connection to him being the same 'Zayne' she had briefly seen before, keeping it ambiguous from MC's perspective whether or not she truly understands what's happening here.

THE ENDING. you just HAD to make sure we knew Dawnbreaker was never going to escape his own hell, didn't you? really had to drive it home that he'd never get to be with her. he finds her, reaches for her and she reaches back and then paradise crumbles around them only to find themselves back where it started? that's just...cruel, man.

it's almost worse now. he's got hope dangled in front of him and it's constantly being pulled just out of reach. before, there was no hope. he had somehow managed to cope, albeit in the words of MC, "struggling to live a normal life", he had resigned to his fate nonetheless. but now there's this sliver of hope, the white light amidst the darkness, and yet it's piercing him all the same.

it's like a saccharine purgatory, his nightmare evolving with her presence but still trapped in the black ice that plagues him because he can't escape, even with her help. it's not destined to be, fate has quite literally decided it.

(astra's a bitch and then we cry)

I'm going to be replaying these chapters a few times, there's so much going on. Dawnbreaker has always held a special place in my heart because I'm simply a whore for tragedy. anyways, gonna go sob over these pixels again ✌️

[idontlikeem]

i'd like to talk about grieving, a little bit. as in the past, discussions of death and cancer below the cut, don't read if this will hurt you, etc....i'm having a bad day and i just need to stream of consciousness for a little bit. sorry.

so my mom died. if you've read my personal posts before or whatever, you probably figured that out. it happened on thursday february 15th around noon. luckily we had a bit of notice that it was coming, so i was able to drive down the saturday prior and spend time with her—three full days where she was pretty much still herself, and part of a fourth.

it's been a really hard month. like, obviously. but i think a part of me still wasn't quite ready for it. i don't know how.

my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer in fall 2011. she had a mastectomy and went through chemo, and that was hard and scary, but it was i think technically considered stage one—a tumor that was definitely growing fast, but it hadn't spread out of the area, like not to her lymph nodes or anything, and with the treatment she went almost ten years totally symptom-free. right at the start of the pandemic, the cancer came back, but this time it was already stage four, and it was in her abdomen and uterus and intestines.

there was a time when we weren't sure she'd live more than a year. endometrial and other reproductive cancers aren't 'sexy' like breast cancer is, they're not widely studied and there aren't a lot of treatment options. when she had breast cancer i hated 'save the boobies' campaigns (and please never donate to susan komen), but now that my family has lived with another type of cancer that doesn't have tits as a draw, i hate them even more.

my mom made it four years, pretty much, since the first diagnosis. she did chemo, and radiation, and went on medication trials, and put her body through hell to try and fight it. she lived longer than i think any of us thought she would.

the problem with that is how long i've been existing in a state of grief.

i've had years to prepare for this. i've thought about it literally thousands of times—how i'd feel, how i'd tell people, what i'd do after. i pictured it, because i was trying to plan. i was trying to get myself ready.

turns out pre-grieving isn't real. turns out you can't get this pain out of the way by experiencing it in advance. much to my chagrin. i'm not sure there was a way to avoid it, though. so here i am, with four years of grief behind me, and not one second of it has made what's going on now any easier.

some days i forget. every time i'm on twitter or instagram, there are posts i want to send her, and then i don't know what to do with myself. for all that my relationship with her had its hard times, she was my mom, she was my best friend. i love her more than anything and i don't know what to do with myself now that she's gone.

i've been sort of just surviving for the last four weeks. my apartment is a mess, i'm barely leaving, i haven't been good at responding to people. so today i thought i'd at least clean up a little. i'd gone to target a day or two before i drove down to my parents', and i figured i would start with those bags, because they were just sitting there.

i'd forgotten that i bought valentine's day cards for my whole family that i wanted to send. one for each of my brothers, one for my dad, one for my mom. i never sent them, obviously, i didn't even bring them with me. i burst into tears when i pulled them out of the bag, and i've been crying pretty much all day since then. i'm never going to pick out a card for my mom ever again.

i also have a notes app file sitting on my phone. she wrote each of us letters, and my dad sent them out to us, but i haven't been able to open mine yet. it's the last new thing she'll ever say to me. how could i possibly be ready for that? how do i know when the right time to read that will be?

one thing my mom wanted was to die at home. she didn't want it to be in a hospital, and i get it. she spent a month in the hospital after christmas, and god knows how much time cumulatively over the last four years. the fact that she was able to push to get home is something i don't understand, because she was so sick—but she did it somehow. she was able to die in her bed.

and i was with her. like. i wasn't just at home, i was with her.

something they don't tell you about having someone die is you have to start arranging stuff before it actually happens. when we woke up on the 15th, we knew it was only a matter of time—her eyes weren't all the way open and her breath was labored, and she couldn't talk, although at first she still tried to say stuff. we sat there with her and kept her company and talked to her. hospice came by around 11 or 11:30, i don't even remember, and said that based on whatever measurements or readings they take (pupils? breathing? i don't know), it would be between 4-8 hours, and he recommended that my dad call the funeral home. because you have to do that first.

so my youngest brother was driving down from where he lives, my middle brother was in his room, my dad was in his room on the phone, and i stayed with her, because....well, of course, right? and i was just kind of talking, and crying, but trying not to...i don't know, beg her to stay? ask for more time? the nurse said she could still hear, they're pretty sure that hearing and understanding what's being said is the last thing to go, and i didn't want her to feel bad or guilty, or to hurt herself in an effort to stay longer even though there's nothing more that i've ever wanted in my life.

so i told her, you know, we'll be okay. it's going to be unbearably sad, and it's going to suck, but all the stuff we did as a family with her—we'll still do it. and we'll be okay. and there's nothing more important to us than her not hurting anymore, not being miserable and stuck and just...not herself. all that matters to us right now is her, and she didn't have to worry about us, because we'd be okay.

and she took in a breath. there was a pause. she took in another one. and she stopped. that was it.

i didn't even realize at first, not right the second it happened. the hospice booklet had talked about a 'death rattle', about how it happens almost all the time, but that it's more distressing for the people with the person dying than them, that they're not in pain. how the fuck would they know that, i'm not sure i believe it, but...it's what i was expecting. that didn't happen, though. she just stopped breathing.

the amount of guilt i felt for my dad being out of the room...i don't know if that will ever leave me. he said it was ok, because he was having to deal with stuff, and he'd spent a lot of time with her and it was fine, but jesus. how do i not feel like i stole that from him?

i've felt like a shell ever since. i'm back where i live, and i'm getting up and going to work and taking care of my dog and trying to stay connected to life, but...i don't know.

how is it that she's gone? how is this possible? how am i supposed to go the rest of my life without her?

i had four years to get ready for this, and i wasn't. i don't think there's any way i really could have been, but still. it doesn't seem fair that it was so hard for so long, and for NOTHING. nothing is easier now.

i'm sick of feeling sad, and hurt. i feel like i should be over it or something? i don't know, maybe just less actively affected? it's been a month. people's parents die all the time, right?

what am i supposed to do?

[seeminglydark]

Hey um, so this is actually my first time typing anything on tumblr, partially because I only got it a couple months ago (something something healing my inner child because I only managed to secretly log into Webtoons during my younger years) and I am also a chronic lurker. Alas, it is the night hours and this, combined with listening to the first episode of Mil-Liminal has moved me to emerge, if only for a moment.

Sorry, this is strange. I am typing to someone I do not know who has written so much that is so close to my heart. Something about the first episode just really hit. Maybe it’s cause of how I can relate. Maybe it’s cause listening to it felt a little too real as if maybe you or someone you knew could relate. The thought makes me really sad but also less alone. Is that messed up?

Regardless, thank you so much for everything you make. Every success you have makes me really happy, and seeing you expand over the years to now being able to hear “Caro’s” voice after imagining it for so long- just awesome. Now if I may impose my nagging that I give to my friends upon you, please take care of yourself, make space and recognize the inherent worth you have, know that rest is necessary and you do not need to earn it, and thank you for everything you have done for the community and for all the dark times of my life you have lighted.

Hey, Hi. Even as a person who literally writes for a living, I'm always at a loss for words. Thank you. Thank you for summoning courage and coming out of the shadows for a second to send me this message. I want you to know it moved me to tears (don't worry, crying's healthy.) It's not messed up to feel less alone by listening to my stories, because you're right. Almost everything I write, I have experienced in some kinda way. That includes breaking free from control, running away, and living in my car and suddenly not knowing who the hell I even was (not from my parents though, as in Caro's case.) My writing is and has always been a way to process and express my own grief, healing, yearning, and wishing, identity, and sexuality. The fact that it can hit other people who might be going through or went through similar things actually makes it even more worth while to me. And you don't need to be sad for the things I've gone through, because it brought me here. Almost middle-aged, the bad times feel like an old nightmare I can barely remember, Breathing, Heart beating, ALIVE and with stories to tell, and if I'm lucky, some hope to share. Cuz there is hope, and don't you forget that.

Thank you again, from the very bottom of my heart. This whole message is really so special to me in the deepest most profound way possible. I want to reply to the last paragraph with something great to say, you know what I mean? Words are hard though. So instead I'll thank you again, and I'll ask that you have that same grace for yourself too, and leave you with a little drawing of a kid figuring out their life, even though they feel really lost right now, the wonderful thing about Caro's story is that we already know it's going to be ok one day. -RJ

[aliz5karga]

Words about Gaza and Palestine

I'm not Palestinian. I have no family there. Yet, I mourn those who died, and I cry with those who lost their loved ones. I've been living those past days on autopilot mode. I'm stuck on my phone, looking to be updated on the situation. I am and will not be impacted by this. But my body, my heart is acting as if – because I realize how awful the situation is. It's called being human. It's called having compassion.

We live in a society that forces us to be selfish. To lack compassion, to be completely desensitized to atrocities happening around the world. To go on with our lives. We're a few realizing that the death toll isn't just a bunch of numbers, but a list of people, who had dreams and hopes, friends and a family.

We're a few realizing the importance of life, and how absolutely devilish politicians are. Every single government in this world has and will only care about power and money. It seems obvious, an equivalent to saying the sky's blue, but nobody really grasps how awful governments, worldwide, are...

The West is funding genocide. Joe Biden is supporting "Israel" in their genocide. The U.S. is sending troops and billions in aid to the Israeli regime – they're literally helping "Israel" to exterminate Gazans and colonize Gaza. At least 2000 Palestinian children have been killed and in total, at least 4000 Palestinians have been murdered by the illegitimate State of "Israel".

We live in a world where it isn't outraging and worth burning everything down to see babies being traumatized by war. Newborns coming into this world and whose first sound is either explosions, pain, fear and/or grief. Parents being forced to bury their kids. Children bidding a farewell to their siblings. Entire families being wiped out of the civil registry. Thousands of people have been murdered, and thousands of others are on death row, held hostages by the genocidal regime of "Israel". Because "Israel" decided to cut off access to electricity, water and fuel, hospitals in Gaza are even more struggling to help the injured. The world cries about 40 fake babies, but has nothing to say about 130 real newborns who will be sentenced to death by "Israel" if the blockade doesn't end immediately.

“130 babies at mortal risk in Gaza's hospitals as Israel continues to bar entry of fuel : Israel's 'insistence' to block fuel deliveries needed for hospital generators may cost lives of 130 premature babies, says Gaza Health Ministry” (Anadolu Ajansı)

Worse, they're funding it! They're aiding Israel to murder all these people.

It sends shivers to my spine, it makes my heart sink and it boils my blood when I see those videos of bombs further destroying Gaza ; every single time they touch the ground and detonate, they tear the lives out of many people at once, who thought they'd be safe. I wished those deaths were false, that "Pallywood", as so many disgusting, vile “Israeli” assholes think is real, truly existed. That all these people, all these children, were still among us…

Damn it. I don't know what to think or say. I just want to burn everything down. From what I've seen, many people (thankfully) feel the same.

We need to organize ourselves. We need to accept the (ugly) truth : the government doesn't give a damn about any of us. For the State, money is more important than anything, it's worth killing for. We need to accept it and start organizing ourselves and truly fight for justice. Making them know we don't agree doesn't change anything, voting doesn't change anything – we need to stop playing by their rules because it's useless : we're only fighting for a better illusion of a just society.

We can't live with illusions anymore. Be bad, be angry. Organize and fight for the insurrection. 🔥🏴

If Palestinian children can't dream, then we'll prohibit world leaders from sleeping.

RIOT, STRIKE AND BOYCOTT NOW!

Palestine will be Free, from the River to the Sea! We'll fight until the fall of the apartheid regime. 🍉

Here's what you can do to help the Palestinian cause :

Boycott! Preferably, boycotting all companies that funds the Israeli apartheid is good, but you must absolutely boycott...

Puma

AXA

HP

Siemens

Carrefour

SodaStream

Ahava

Isr*eli produce

Donate to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund (PCRF) if you can. Uplift Palestinian voices and share everywhere, on every single platform you have, what's going on in Palestine, from Gaza to the West Bank. Settlers are committing an ethnic cleansing in the West Bank, and the IOF has shot dead numerous Palestinians in the West Bank. "Israel" has bombed a mosque in the West Bank too.

This isn't a "war", even less a war against terrorism. It's a genocide. We must fight.

[sheisntyouspam]

okayyyyyy right. im 100 pages through and I have A LOT OF THOUGHTS.

chapter 2 - chapter 14 (spoilers?? (do I need to say that idk?)):

OKAY I GET I HAVE TO READ ABOUT THE BREAK UP BUT I DIDNT KNOW ID ACTUALLY HAVE TO READ IT

i have cried so many tears it is extremely concerning

i was genuinely sobbing while reading chapter 14

because the things liz was saying were so ridiculously real

‘how can you go from being madly in love to being nothing’

(i know that wasn’t the quote but you get the gist)

like??

my pillow is soaked guys i was crying as hard as when people leave me.

ANYWHO

wes is literally so wes

‘i fell in love with teasing you in second grade’

i can still see that personality in him

he’s gone through a hell load of trauma but he’s still the same wes

BUT I HAVE TO SAY

the breakup was not it wesley.

and i really really need to read his pov of it because i refuse to believe that wes bennett would (1) leave her like that (2) whoever the fuck ashley is

ASHLEY BETTER NOT BLOODY EXIST OR I SWEAR

anywhooooo

at first i really really really hated liz’s character

cause wtaf happened to lizzie

everyone is all ‘oh anti-romantic liz’ what???

what happened to the liz who would watch and read romcoms on repeat?

who would wear dresses and floral prints all the time?

it was deadass depressing

but after the breakup i can see why she became like that and I understand the change

HOWEVER that scene where the guys were saying ‘she’s one of the guys’ ??

im sorry but I actually threw up ms lynn painter

cause what the actual

so she has changed so so so much

parties, getting drunk, social asf, tons of friends…

like im happy for you libby but i miss the old little love lover icl

any road moving on

look clark is a nice chap but im with wes on this.

I HATE HIM

LIKE FUCK OFF

‘you already took my girl - isn’t that enough?’

i wanted to cry wes was so real for that

like sure guys clark isn’t a bitch and blah blah

(but i am taking wes’ side in this whole thing (sorry not sorry))

tbf i love both of their povs but i may be slightly more in favor of wes’

only a tad bit

okok last thing

THIS ‘BUXIE’ SHIT??

IT HAS TO STOP

CAUSE THAT IS THE WORST NICKNAME I HAVE EVER COME ACROSS IN MY LIFE

TF IS BUXIE??

also when they said ‘our girl’ (yeah that same scene where they said she’s ‘one of the guys’ (on my life wtf was that scene in general))

no.

no.

no.

no.

SIMPLY NO.

guys icl there isn’t enough girls in this book i mean come onnnnn

also i wanna see more of sarah she’s literally the loml after one scene STOPP XEJNEDJNED

anywho i think that’s all

the book was a bit slow at the beginning but the pace is picking up now xx

see you guys in 100 pages 🫡

(last last thing trust - ive heard there’s charliebailey and nickemilie content?? ill just wait yk)

[cookinguptales]

frank discussion of gynecological issues and frustrations with OBGYNs (especially re: chronic illness) under the cut, but I guess also potentially useful information for people who want to hear about it

so... some of you might remember when I was going to OGBYNs a little while ago. I have endometriosis and PMDD diagnoses, so going to OBGYNs isn't exactly unusual for me, but I ended up going to see more than I usually do.

this was largely because the hormonal therapy that I was taking for those disorders was starting to fail and I was bleeding a lot. like... for weeks at a time over a period of months. I had to deal with some... frustrating OBGYN advice in this time (such as the rage-inducing "well, women have to bleed") but I also discovered that like... I mean, I think I always knew that I had more vaginal pain than other people I know, but a lot of things hurt me so I just kind of... ignored it?

but they tried to put me on the nuva ring for a little while during this period and my body just... straight-up rejected it. it hurt like a bitch to put in, it kept coming out, I could feel it in there and it hurt, etc.

I ended up comparing notes with some other people I know and realized that my problems with insertion were probably more severe than I'd thought. like, it is not unusual for me to cry during pap smears and have cramping for days afterward. I cannot use tampons without massive pain. your body is not really supposed to physically expel something like a nuva ring several times a day. tmi I guess but I have not found penetration of any kind pleasant.

so I talked to... I want to say four or five different OBGYNs in this period, and none of them gave me a real reason for this. the prevailing attitude was mostly "oh yeah, that happens sometimes. lmao."

the best I could get was a diagnosis of "vaginismus" on my chart, and when I pressed for more information, they basically told me it was a psychological thing where your body is afraid of penetration so it clenches up and won't unclench. they literally grilled me on my history of sexual abuse to see if they could find the source of my dick phobia.

now... not to get too into it, but I do have a history of CSA -- but my pain problems predate it. I got my period relatively early and I've never been able to use tampons or anything like them. every time I've tried has ended in literal tears. again, cramping pain for days, even after the period itself has stopped.

so I get the dick phobia diagnosis from two different doctors, but one of them says she can do a transvaginal ultrasound if I'm really worried. we do this and it is uh. excruciating, honestly. thank god it was in California and they let me get high as a kite.

in the end, they can't find anything "physically" wrong with why I'm in pain and they send me on my way, dick phobia dx in hand.

today. today. YEARS later. I am googling tips on how to try a menstrual cup if you have vaginismus (prep for the trip abroad; I don't like Japanese pads) and I see someone saying "oh, I'm glad that treatment worked for you, my problems are because of ehlers-danlos syndrome."

you know, one of the chronic illnesses I have and one that I divulged to every OBGYN I saw.

what.

paging Dr. Google!!!

I come to find out that folks that have EDS, because of their connective tissue issues and extremely brittle skin, sometimes deal with extreme gynecological pain. it's partially pelvic floor issues, partially the fact that the skin in your vagina is breaking.

so all those times that I said "it feels like it's cutting me" or "it feels like knives" were probably because it was fucking cutting me. all those times I said I felt scraped raw for days was probably because abrasions take a long time to heal when you have EDS.

I cannot believe. I cannot believe. that I went into so many different OBGYNs who told me that my pain issues were because I had a psychological fear of dicks and when I told them I was a lesbian were like "oh well then problem solved" when actually my body was physically tearing. I had even seen blood sometimes and it had always been dismissed as spotting.

the anger I feel rn is indescribable, tbh. I never bought that my problems were all in my head (probably because doctors used that line on me so often when I was a kid and getting other chronic illnesses diagnosed) but the fact that gynecological health science is still so fucking awful that we shrug off pain that is the symptom of dangerous chronic illnesses as "well that happens sometimes" or "have you considered that maybe you're afraid of sex?"

I JUST

this reminds me of when I had to find out from a fucking tumblr post that vaginal secretions are made from blood rather than glands, so if you have bad blood pressure/flow it'll often cause itchiness/dryness/pain. bad blood flow like... idk... maybe POTS.

so again, it was actually one of my known chronic illnesses causing gynecological issues, not any of the other bullshit reasons doctors were giving me, like age or stress.

I hate that I'm fucking 33 years old and I still have to learn stuff like this from google searches. I still don't know how my shitty body works, and it's largely because of stuff like this. what the fuck. I'm so mad. why do doctors still treat vaginas like a fucking scary mystery?

I'm well aware that Dr. Google doesn't always know what the fuck it's talking about, but apparently neither do my doctors! which is why, yet again, I'm up all night reading medical journals in the vain attempt to figure out how to actually live my life!

ugh!!!

[princesskenny1998]

South Park | Kenny McCormick x afab!goth!reader ~ Remembering

You sit at the edge of your bed, staring at the empty space where Kenny used to lie next to you. The room feels colder today, the weight of silence pressing down on you like an anchor. The faint light of dawn barely touches the gothic posters on your walls, the muted colors blending into the shadows. Normally, this was the time you’d be sending Kenny some sarcastic text about how much you hated mornings, or maybe he’d already be here, sneaking in through your window like he always did. But not today. Today, he’s gone.

You shut your eyes tight, as if that could somehow erase the memory of yesterday—Kenny, smiling, his usual carefree self, right before it happened. The screech of the truck’s brakes, the horrible sound of metal against flesh. The blood. So much blood. It’s a sight you’ll never be able to forget, no matter how hard you try.

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand, jarring you from the spiraling thoughts. It’s a text from one of your friends:

“Hey, heading to school. You in?”

You stare at the message for a long time. School. How are you supposed to go to school today? How can life just… continue after what happened?

With trembling hands, you type out a response.

“Not coming. Kenny’s gone.”

You hit send and drop the phone back onto the nightstand, pulling your knees to your chest. The tears come again, hot and fast, burning tracks down your cheeks. You hadn’t cried this much in years. Being goth meant you weren’t supposed to care about much—or at least that’s what everyone thought. But Kenny… Kenny was different. He saw through the tough exterior, the black clothes, the sharp eyeliner. He made you laugh when you didn’t want to, made you feel alive when all you wanted was to disappear into the shadows. And now, he was gone, taken by something as random and meaningless as a traffic accident.

Your phone buzzes again. Another message. You wipe your eyes roughly and glance at it.

“What are you talking about?”

Your stomach twists. How could they not know? Didn’t the whole town see what happened? It was right in front of the school, for crying out loud. You quickly type a response.

“Kenny. He’s dead. Yesterday. The truck.”

This time, the reply is immediate.

“Are you feeling okay? Kenny’s fine. I literally just saw him.”

You freeze. A cold chill crawls up your spine. What the hell? You shake your head, refusing to believe it. Maybe they didn’t see what happened, or maybe they just didn’t want to believe it yet. Denial is the first stage of grief, right?

You glance at the clock. 7:45 AM. School starts in fifteen minutes, but there’s no way you’re going today. You can’t face the halls, the teachers, the awkward conversations where people don’t know what to say to the girl whose boyfriend just died.

But the more you think about it, the more unsettled you become. Why don’t they remember? Could it be some sort of sick joke? You get dressed slowly, throwing on your usual black attire, the only armor you have left against a world that feels like it’s falling apart. You leave the house without saying a word to anyone and make your way toward school, walking quickly despite the leaden feeling in your limbs.

The schoolyard looks normal, too normal, when you arrive. Students are hanging out by the lockers, chatting like it’s just another day. Your eyes scan the crowd, half-expecting to see someone else crying, someone else mourning. But there’s nothing. It’s as if yesterday never happened.

You head inside, feeling disoriented. Your friends are gathered near your locker, talking and laughing. You approach them cautiously, your heart pounding.

“Hey,” you say, your voice tight, “are you seriously telling me none of you remember what happened yesterday?”

They turn to you, puzzled.

“What are you talking about?” one of them asks, tilting her head. “What happened?”

Your stomach flips. This can’t be real.

“Kenny,” you say, your voice trembling now. “Kenny got hit by a truck right outside. He… he didn’t make it.”

There’s a pause, then awkward laughter.

“What? Kenny’s not dead,” one of your friends says, rolling her eyes. “I literally just saw him a few minutes ago.”

You feel like the floor is shifting beneath you. “What are you talking about?” you demand, your voice rising. “I saw him die! I was there!”

They exchange uneasy glances, clearly uncomfortable. One of your friends reaches out to touch your arm, as if you’re fragile, like you might break at any second. “Maybe you should go home, okay? Get some rest. You’re not making any sense.”

You yank your arm away, stumbling back from them, feeling dizzy. They don’t remember. No one remembers.

And then, like a nightmare made real, you see him.

Kenny.

He’s walking down the hallway, casually weaving through the crowd like he always does, his familiar orange hoodie unzipped just enough to reveal his worn-out t-shirt underneath. His messy blonde hair falls over his eyes, and he’s got that usual crooked grin on his face.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. No. This isn’t possible.

“Kenny?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the hallway.

He looks up, and when his eyes land on you, his face lights up. “Hey!” he calls out, making his way toward you with that easy, lopsided smile you know so well. “What’s up?”

The world around you tilts, your knees nearly giving out beneath you. You stumble back, pressing a hand against the cold metal lockers to steady yourself.

Kenny stops in front of you, his grin fading as he takes in your wide, tear-filled eyes and the way you’re trembling. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft with concern. “You okay?”

You can’t find the words. Your vision blurs as tears spill over, and your whole body starts to shake. “You… you’re dead,” you manage to choke out. “I saw you… the truck… you…”

Kenny’s face softens, and then, something else flashes in his eyes—recognition, realization. His mouth opens slightly, and he takes a step closer. “You remember,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

You just stare at him, the tears streaming down your face. “How are you here?” you sob, your knees buckling beneath you. “You were dead. I watched you die.”

Before you can collapse, Kenny’s arms are around you, pulling you close, holding you up. “Shh,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice shaky but filled with a strange mixture of relief and disbelief. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

You bury your face in his chest, clutching his hoodie as if he might disappear again at any second. “This can’t be real,” you whisper, the sobs racking your body. “How can you be here? How can you be alive?”

Kenny’s hands gently rub your back, soothing you. “It’s… complicated,” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His face is right there, inches from yours—his blue eyes, his messy hair, the little scar on his cheek that you’ve traced with your fingers so many times before. He’s real. He’s alive. But how?

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Everyone else… no one remembers. But I saw you. I remember. How is this possible?”

Kenny’s eyes search your face, and for a moment, you see something in his expression—a flicker of sadness, of something deeper. Then, slowly, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know why you remember,” he admits, his voice soft. “But… I’m so glad you do.”

You blink up at him, trying to wrap your head around it all. “What do you mean?”

Kenny swallows, his grip tightening on you slightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. “This happens to me,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a strange mixture of resignation and relief. “I… I die. A lot. And then I come back. No one ever remembers. It’s like it never happened.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “You… you die and come back? How?”

Kenny shrugs, his smile faltering. “I don’t know. It’s been happening for as long as I can remember. But the thing is… no one ever remembers. Not my friends, not my family. No one.” His voice softens, and he looks at you with something almost like awe. “But you… you do. You remember.”

You stare at him, your mind racing. It’s impossible. And yet, here he is, standing in front of you. Alive. Real.

“How?” you whisper again, though you’re not sure you even expect an answer anymore.

“I don’t know,” Kenny says softly, his thumb gently wiping a tear from your cheek. “But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here now. And you’re the first person who’s ever remembered. You don’t know what that means to me.”

You can’t stop the tears from falling again, your body still trembling with the weight of it all. But this time, Kenny’s arms are strong around you, holding you close, grounding you in this impossible reality.

“I’m here,” he whispers again, his voice soft but certain. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

And for now, that’s all you need.

[moodywyrm]

sorrysorry sad thoughts but rockstar!sevika going on a world tour and you have to stay home for work or something else :(( and you two are the clingiest mfs in the world so you facetime for hours before a show and after, sometimes even during a show, with her phone shoved in her back pocket while she plays one of her more loving songs in tribute to you not being there for the first time in forever </3

BUT!!! when she comes home it’s like 3 am, you were expecting her to be back later so you could pick her up from the airport in a joyous reunion but she was able to pull some strings :). so she walks into yalls house (more coming on this later i have so many thoughts about her), going straight for the bedroom almost crying because holy shit she’s been gone for like. two months. and she stumbles in, jetlagged and sleep deprived as hell and oh god, you’re laying so peacefully on her side of the bed, snuggled into her pillow, in one of her older band tees, wearing her boxers.

and as much as she wants to grab you and hold you and kiss you, and as much as she may be 6’5, cold, muscly, big scary girl, she doesn’t want to startle you :( she gets undressed into just some boxers, ready to show off her new tattoo that she got (while you were, of course, on the call while she got it). she sits on the bed, being so gentle with you, slowly caressing your cheek and whispering your name in that sweet voice that is reserved for your ears only. and when your eyes finally open, it takes about 5 seconds before you’re up and in her arms, crying and gripping onto her, snuggled into her chest and kissing her face all over.

eventually she pries you away, lifting your face oh so gently and giving you a loving kiss, smiling down at you. you’re all smiles too, holding her arms in a death grip as if you’re afraid she’s just a dream :(( so sevika bundles you into her arms, laying down and cuddling with you the way she has been missing </3

and then in the morning you have steamy reunion sex

who said that

I need you to know that jj @pinknightsinmymind and I stared at this in Tears the other day. this is fucking incredible. I really don't have much to add except for a few lil thoughts

ok I imagine that, aside from your wedding rings, Sevika also got you guys matching jewelry. maybe a necklace or a bracelet, up to you. generally, y'all wear them for show because your everyday matching jewelry are the rings! however. when she's on tour, that jewelry never comes off. it wasn't even like, a conscious decision you two made. simply, the first time she went on tour without you, you both got incredibly sad and started wearing it. she sees it when y'all FaceTime that night, and then shows you hers. y'all did cry a lil bit, it was both adorable and goofy. now, it's tradition! before she leaves, you put her necklace on her and she puts your jewelry on you. it pretty much always results in tears and gentle kisses.

Every time she plays the ballad on tour, she always dedicates it to her beautiful wife. sometimes people can literally hear her getting a lil choked up, and it always ends up being the most heart wrenching part of her set. in my mind it's either similar to (or is) Work Song by Hozier. That's her fucking song. Especially because, you coming into her life did make her stop a lot of her terrible habits. Wanting to be with you made her a better person, and she knows it. She loves you more than life, and it shows. This is honestly my favorite Sevika head canon in the rockstar and farm au's, because they feel so real to me.

And because I'm me I have to include lyrics that are extra extra Sevika and her wife:

"No grave can hold my body down / I'll crawl home to her"

"And I was burnin' up a fever / I didn't care much how long I lived / But I swear I thought I dreamed her / She never asked me once about the wrong I did"

"My babe would never fret none / About what my hands and my body done / If the Lord don't forgive me / I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Ok now that I'm in Tears. Man. C'mon.

On the point of her surprising you by coming home early. Just going off how I process emotions, when y'all get off call that night you just start bawling. Like you know she's gonna be home soon and you'll get to see her, but it's been so long and you miss her so fucking much. You go to sleep crying, so when Sevika comes home and surprises you, she takes note of your puffy red eyes and her heart breaks man. She never wants to be the reason you're crying, unless it's from pleasure. So she changes as fast and as quietly as she can and kneels down at your side of to the bed.

You wake up and just like tackle her, because, to quote TSOA, "I could recognize [her] by touch alone, by smell"

It's such weepy reunion, filled with the softest and firmest hugs in the world. You're literally just crying into her neck, hugging her so tight like "that sucked so bad, I'm so glad your home" but it's so broken up because you're sobbing. sevika's crying too, just so fucking happy to be back home with her wife. she refuses to let go of you, clinging to you like a koala all night. does not care how hot it is, she needs you as close as possible. hence her lack of a shirt, and her asking you to take yours off if you're comfortable. skin to skin contact is an absolute must for you two.

that night y'all sleep like fucking babies, not waking up until like ten am the next day. even then, y'all stay in bed for hours.

on the point of reunion sex, I agree and I'd love to write a full thing on it, but I have some preliminary thoughts.

after being away from you for so long, sevika craves skin to skin contact. which means, say it with me yall, tribbing!! she needs it, you need it, it's messy and hot and wet and somehow y'all are still weepy.

she still absolutely uses her strap on you, but it's less fucking and more love making, but just as passionate and intense. deep strokes people. it's honestly her least favorite act during reunion sex, though she still fucking loves. she just needs that skin to skin contact.

so much oral. soooooooo much oral. in the same line as the skin to skin, but she just need to Feel her girl. does not let up until you're boneless and limp on the bed.

you also pamper the shit out of her. taking control during tribbing, riding her, eating her out and fingering her to release all of the pent up tension of tour.

that's all I can add to this perfect fucking ask man, I cried writing this. thank u nonnie <3

[munsonfamilyband]

This was just a random thought I had while I’m still trying to figure out how to finish my Valentine’s Day Ficlet

—————

After finding Eddie nearly dead and limp in Dustin’s arms, Steve managed to carry him out and through the gate. Nancy found his keys in the trailer and the five of them climbed into Eddie’s van, with Steve supporting him in the back. When they came to a squealing stop in the hospital parking lot, they all burst out and Steve ran inside with Eddie’s body in his arms still. He was quickly taken away and they were stuck in the waiting room.

The four of them were sitting in chairs, Robin leaned against Steve’s shoulder and she could feel him getting more and more relaxed, which seemed like a good thing before he spoke up.

“Robbie, I think-I think I’m gonna….p’ss out….” Before she could even respond he was going fully limp and half sliding out of his chair. They screamed for help and then it was just Robin, Nancy, and Dustin in the waiting room.

~~

Steve woke up to soft voices that he didn’t recognize, pain radiating from his sides and a too light blanket covering his legs. He forced his eyes open and saw three people he vaguely recognized sitting in chairs around another bed and made eye contact with the black guy sitting at the foot of the bed. The guy startled and turned back to the other guys.

“Oh shit, Harrington’s awake. Should I, like, go get someone or-“

“Eddie…?” Steve croaked out, his voice raw and he saw all three of them suddenly turned to face him with varying degrees of anger on their faces.

“Why the fuck do you want to know about Eddie? You’re probably the reason he’s here in the first place—!” The shorter one with big hair had stood and was stepping toward him when the third guy put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Dude, pull back the third degree. He’s in a hospital bed right now. Jeff, go get a nurse or something.” The black guy nodded and stood up before leaving the room. The shorter guy gave Steve one last nasty look before he collapsed back in his chair.

If Steve’s throat wasn’t so sore he would have said something, but even swallowing felt like knives in his throat. It felt like the silence in the room stretched on for ages before the door opened back up. He got a glimpse of the black guy, Jeff he heard one of the guys say, and a nurse before long limbs and blonde hair were in his face and Steve gave a weak smile.

“Rob…” He tried to lift his hand up to touch her, needing to know she’s real but he found he was too weak to manage getting his hand up more than a couple inches. Thankfully, she saw him move and swooped in to grab his hand in both of hers.

“I am so mad at you right now, and if you weren’t in a hospital bed actively dealing with an infection, I would have already hit you. What sort of warning is ‘I’m gonna pass out’, Steve? And why did you decide it was a good idea to carry a human person while you were injured the way you were, huh?” He could see that she had been crying, and was fighting back tears at that moment as well, so he gave her a weak smile.

“No one else could lift him…is he-did he…”

“He’s fine, he’s literally in this room, Dingus, did no one-“ She cut herself off and turned to face the guys who had apparently been watching them the whole time. “Did he ask about Eddie?”

The short guy from earlier scoffed, “yeah, and I told him he had no right-“

“No right?! Who do you think brought him here, asshole?! Steve literally carried him here while also injured!” That seemed to get all three of the boys to freeze, looking between Steve and Robin. Robin just rolled her eyes and looked back at Steve, her anger immediately melting away. “Eddie’s fine. They think he’s gonna be out for another day or so just from the blood loss, but then again, they also said you weren’t going to wake up until tomorrow and-“

“Miss Buckley, if you wouldn’t mind stepping back, I really should be checking over Mr. Harrington’s injuries.” Robin’s eyes snapped over to the nurse and seemed to remember where they were, quickly stepping back.

“I am so sorry, I was just so glad he’s okay, I totally forgot he needed to be looked at.” The nurse gave her a gentle smile as she walked over to read Steve’s vitals on the screen next to the bed.

“It’s alright, you aren’t the first person to get in the way of a nurse out of relief that your loved one is okay.” She wrote down the information on Steve’s chart and turned to face him. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

Steve managed a nod, swallowing thickly before he could speak. “My sides are really painful, and my throat hurts.”

“Well I can definitely fix that.” The nurse walked over to a tray that Steve hadn’t noticed and grabbed a syringe. The whole room listened to his heart monitor start beating faster as he watched her get closer, Robin sliding a chair up to the other side of his bed and grabbing his hand. “It’s alright, I’m just adding this to your IV bag, needle won’t go anywhere near you.” Steve felt his muscles relax but his heartbeat didn’t start to slow down until the nurse was putting the needle back on the tray. “There, some more pain killers should help with the pain in your sides. You already have plenty of antibiotics in your system but I’ll be back later to give you more of those. I’m going to go get you some ice chips to suck on, which should help with the sore throat.” Steve had already closed his eyes so he just nodded, and he heard Robin say something but he wasn’t paying enough attention to make out what she said.

The next time he woke up, there were more voices in the room, some he recognized and some he didn’t - though somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had heard them recently. Unfortunately for him, when he tried to open his eyes every fiber of his being resisted and all that happened was he groaned. The voices all stopped at once, and then the whispering started.

“Do you think he’s awake?”

“Maybe, I don’t know if he’s made that sound while sleeping before.”

“He definitely hasn’t, but his eyes are still shut-“

“He could just be in pain-“

“If he’s asleep, you all bickering will certainly wake him up.”

“Hey! We’re just worried, okay? And just because you guys stole Dustin-“

“We didn’t steal Dustin, he came over here on his own.”

“Because you guys kept glaring at us-“

Steve finally gathered enough strength to speak, having had enough of the fighting that had just started, “would you all please shut up?” This did not work, and Steve asked himself why he thought it ever would, as multiple voices started shouting his name in excitement. Squinting one of his eyes open he saw Erica and Robin, and surprisingly, El, Mike, and Will all staring back at him. Immediately, Steve noticed people were missing, some of his kids were missing. “Were’s the rest of you?” He saw Erica glare over at the other side of the room - Steve couldn’t see what she was looking at, but he assumed there were people.

“Dustin’s been stolen, and they are refusing to wake him up so that he can see that his god damn-“

“Erica….”

“Shut up, hair boy. They won’t wake him up to see that you’re awake, just because they’re mad that Eddie isn’t-“

“Eddie? He’s okay?” Robin grabbed his hand, sitting down on the bed next to his leg.

“We talked about this yesterday, do you remember? You woke up and asked where he was, if he was okay. I told you he was fine, just out because of the blood loss.” Steve frowned, trying to remember but it was all so blurry.

“Oh…okay. Good, that’s…. Good. So, Dustin is… with Eddie?” He looked at Robin for confirmation before he kept talking. “Okay, that’s okay. Where…..is Max-did she?”

“I won’t lie to you, Dingus. She’s hurt, pretty badly. But she’s alive, and she’s been awake for a couple hours since coming out of anesthesia for her surgery. Lucas is with her, which is why they’re missing. But they’re both okay, Max is going to need a lot of help but she’s okay.” Steve just nodded, and he was so glad Robin knew him as well as she did, because she wiped away the tears that started falling so he didn’t have to. Just then, there was the sound of coughing from the other side of the curtain and Mike was running over to the other side of the room, only disappearing for a second before skidding back to their side.

“He’s waking up!” Robin stood quickly, still holding Steve’s hand.

“Then pull back the curtain, idiot! And go get everyone else!” El decided to go get the others apparently, as she gave Steve’s leg a gentle squeeze before leaving the room. Mike quickly rolled the curtain back and Robin helped Steve sit his bed up so he could look over at the other side of the room. There was someone standing in the way though, and by his posture you could tell it was intentional. “Gareth, I swear to god, if you do not move so Steve can see if Eddie is alive I will put a whole pack of chewed gum in your hair.” Surprisingly, that got him to move, albeit with some annoyed grumbling, and suddenly Steve could see Eddie for the first time since he got them to the hospital. He was curling into himself as he coughed, bandages covering his torso and parts of his arms, and his hair had been pulled back at some point into a bun-type thing.

Tension Steve hadn’t even been aware of melted away and he leaned more fully into his pillows upon seeing Eddie breathing and alive. When he finally stopped coughing, Eddie opened his eyes and gave a weak grin to the guys by his bed, including Dustin.

“Hey, guys, how’s it been?” They all started shouting at him, but the grin never left his face as he started looking around the room. That is, until he made eye contact with Steve. Steve knew he was smiling dreamily (Robin was going to make fun of him so much later) but seeing Eddie pause and then give him a soft smile in return made everything feel warm in Steve’s chest.

They were beaten and bloodied and Vecna wasn’t even dead, but Steve had a feeling they would be okay.