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tortillamastersblog · 2 days ago

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Back To You - Part 9 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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“You didn’t!” Tara laughs happily and continues unwrapping the gift I got her which is a vintage video camera.

I figured she’d like it because she wants to be a film major and judging by her reaction, she does.

She woke me a couple of minutes ago by literally sitting on me, wishing me a Merry Christmas before shoving a present for me in my face.

I haven’t opened it yet because I wanted to see her reaction to my present first, and also because I want Sam to be there when I open it because it’s from both of them.

Tara finishes unwrapping and takes the camera out of its box, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “This is so cool.”

She inspects it from all angles and turns it on while I watch, happy that she likes it.

“You guys started without me?”

Sam’s voice makes me look over my shoulder and when I see her standing in the doorway of her room with a pout and sleep mussed hair, I smile and get up, stretching.

“Tara did, but don’t worry. You haven’t missed much so far.”

Sam huffs, but I can tell she’s not really annoyed. She makes her way over to us and plops down on the couch, running her fingers through her tangled hair in an attempt to tame it a little.

It looks like she’s still half asleep and I can’t help but think how adorable she looks like this, wearing faded gray sweatpants and an oversized black shirt.

The memory of her putting a blanket over me last night is still fresh in my mind, and I make a mental note to finally talk to her once we’re alone.

Tara fumbles around with the camera and moves to her sister’s side to show her what I got her. Sam seems impressed and she asks Tara to try and film something and while the two of them are busy figuring out how the camera works I pull off my hoodie.

I’ve been hot since I woke up, but I haven’t had a chance to take it off until now.

“Damn, Y/N,” Tara comments.

I raise an eyebrow as I pull my shirt, which rode up, back down over my stomach. “Huh?”

The camera momentarily forgotten in her hands, Tara wiggles her eyebrows suggestively while gesturing at me. “Someone’s been working out.”

My eyes widen in surprise before embarrassment washes over me.

It’s true, I’ve been working out like crazy since getting back on my feet, and I’m in better shape than I’ve ever been now that playing hockey is my literal job, but I usually don’t like to show it off and I really didn’t mean to expose myself like that just now.

“I mean, do they feed you steroids in Boston, or what?” Tara teases with a smirk.

“No they don’t, shut up,” I fire back weakly, tossing the hoodie at her face.

She catches it in time before it hits her and puts it down next to her, her smirk still present. “I’m just sayin’.”

I roll my eyes and scratch the back of my neck, hoping my cheeks aren’t all too red. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks.”

Tara chuckles and I go to take a seat on the couch next to her when I notice the way Sam’s uncharacteristically quiet.

I glance at her, worried that something might be wrong, but what I see makes my heart swoop in my chest instead.

Her eyes are trained on her fumbling hands in her lap, the tips of her ears are red, and she keeps swallowing thickly. In short, she’s flustered and the fact that it’s because my shirt rode up makes my heart beat faster and makes me feel like it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Not wanting to embarrass her though, I don’t comment on it and take a seat, gesturing for Tara to hand me the other gift on top of my bag.

“This one’s for you,” I say to Sam once Tara has given it to me and the way Sam’s brown eyes widen in surprise makes me chuckle softly. “What? You thought I wouldn’t get you anything?”

“N-No, I just— That’s not,” she stammers, clearing her throat and looking down for a moment before looking back up with a small smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I hand it to her and try not to let it show that a shiver runs up my spine when her finger brush against mine.

Tara puts her camera down and together we watch Sam unwrap the flat, palm-sized box. She shoots me a questioning look, realizing it’s a black jewlery box, but I don’t say anything. I just smile and encourage her to open it with a wave of my hand.

Tara looks at me with a knowing smile and I smile back, loving the way Sam gasps in disbelief when her eyes land on the gold necklace on display inside the box.

“Do you like it?” I ask and the way Sam’s eyes shine when she looks up is answer enough.

Even so, she nods vigorously, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the necklace. “I love it, b-but how did you—?”

I shrug, feigning ignorance, and Tara does her best to hide her smile by busying herself with her camera again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say. “I just saw this and thought you’d like it.”

Sam chuckles incredulously and a, “Liar” slips past her lips, but she doesn’t ask how I knew about it again. Instead she looks back at the necklace, her finger brushing over the sun symbol engraved in the round pendant before taking it out and turning to me with a vulnerable expression. “Put it on me?”

I nod timidly, suddenly feeling shy and doing my best to ignore the questioning look Tara shoots at me before taking the necklace from Sam.

She shifts on the couch so her back is turned to me, and gathers her hair in a ponytail, exposing her neck to me.

I force myself to breathe normally at the sight, wanting nothing more than to press a kiss to it, and put the necklace around her neck.

“Thank you.” Sam lets go of her hair again and turns back around, touching the pendant for a moment before hugging me.

I hug her back and this time I don’t stop myself from pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. It makes her tighten her arms around my neck before pulling back.

“Okay, now it’s your turn,” Tara says, grabbing my present and throwing it in my lap.

I chuckle and shoot Sam one last smile, getting to work on unwrapping my own present.

It’s turns out to be a jewelry box as well, but it’s smaller than Sam’s and when I open it and see what’s inside, I immediately feel tears prick my eyes.

It’s a gold bracelet with my parents’ initials engraved in it in their handwriting.

I swallow thickly and look up to find Sam and Tara watching me hopefully.

“Guys. . . This is—“ I clear my throat and blink my tears away, “—This is beautiful. Thank you.”

The two sisters exhale, relieved, and Tara is quick to climb over Sam to put the bracelet on my wrist.

“There. . . Now you’ll always have a part of your parents with you,” she says, adding, “It was Sam’s idea.”

I rub my eyes to get rid of any more tears and kiss the top of her head before looking at Sam over her shoulder. “Thank you. Really. It means a lot to me.”

I love it. I absolutely love it, but the fact that it was Sam’s idea makes it extra special.

The two of them really are my family, and I just know that if my parents could see us now they’d be glad that we all found our way back to each other.

“So, how are Liam and Paige?” Tara asks over breakfast.

After we exchanged a few more presents we all got ready for the day and made breakfast together. Sam did most of the cooking since she decided we were having pancakes, but Tara and I l cut some fruits, made coffee, and set the table.

“Good.” I say after swallowing the sip of coffee I just took. “Liam just moved to New York and Paige moved to Portland, but they’re both here for the holidays to visit their parents.”

“Paige moved to Portland?” Tara asks with a raised eyebrow. “Why not New York, like Liam?”

Sam hums in agreement and I take another bite of my pancakes before answering, “Because her girlfriend lives in Portland. They’ve been doing long distance for over two years and they were sick of never seeing each other, so they decided to move in together.”

“Hmm, alright. Makes sense,” Tara says, ready to move on, but Sam snorts and stabs a piece of strawberry with her fork, saying, “Yeah, good for them. . . I’d never do long distance.”

I freeze, but no one notices and Sam goes on, unfazed. “I mean, only being able to see each other five or six times a year, maybe even less? Yeah, no thank you.”

Tara shrugs, obviously not caring, but I stay still, feeling like the rug’s just been pulled out from under me.

I live in Boston and Sam lives here. . . Even if she had feelings for me, she’d never want to be in a relationship with me. She just made that perfectly clear.

The realization feels like a punch to my stomach and I no longer feel like eating, completely drowning out Tara’s voice when she changes the subject.

Sam will never be with me, so it doesn’t matter how she feels about me. It doesn’t matter how I feel about her.

I set down my fork and get up, feeling like I’m in a trance.

Tara and Sam stop talking at the abruptness of my movement, their eyebrows furrowing, and before they can ask what I’m doing I mumble, “I’m going to take a shower, I’m a little cold.“

I’m neither cold, nor do I need a shower, but I need a moment to control my emotions and hide how much what Sam just said hurt me, so I go to my bag to grab a fresh set of clothes.

“Y/N. . .?” Tara asks hesitantly, but I don’t answer. I just go to the bathroom, lock the door behind me and get into the shower.

Sam doesn’t owe me anything. I know that, but what she said hurt and made me realize that the hope I had of ever being with her was futile.

All along, it was futile. We’ll never be together and she’ll never see me the way I see her.

Maybe I should try to move on. . .

A tear rolls down my cheek and I don’t bother wiping it away because the stream of the shower washes it away a moment later.

When I get out of the bathroom, the apartment is quiet and at first I think no one’s home, but then I sport Tara on the couch, figuring out how to work her new camera.

Sam is nowhere to be seen, but the table has been cleared and the dishwasher is running so she can’t be far.

“Hey, Sprout,” I say quietly, taking a seat next to her. “You good?”

Tara looks up and the way her eyes soften at the sight of me makes me wonder if my inner turmoil is really that obvious.

“Sam went out to get some snacks for when Mindy and Chad come over,” she says which makes me frown.

“I. . . didn’t ask,” I say tentatively, not wanting to offend her.

Tara just sighs and puts the camera down, turning to me with her lips pulled into a frown. “No, you didn’t, but I know you.”

That makes me smile nervously. “What are you talking about?”

Tara’s shoulders sag and she wordlessly moves to my side, resting her head on my shoulder and hugging my arm to her chest. “I know you like Sam, Y/N. I’ve known since the day she left. You weren’t just sad because your best friend left. . . You were heartbroken.”

I swallow thickly. I’ve always made it a point not to lie to Tara, so I’m not going to start now by denying anything. I don’t know what to say though, so I stay silent and sink back into the couch, letting my cheek rest against the top of her head.

“I know what she said about the whole long distance thing really bummed you out, but I don’t think she even realizes what it meant to you when she said it,” Tara whispers. “She can be a little. . . insensitive sometimes, but. . . I see the way she looks at you, Y/N, and all I can ask of you is that you don’t give up on her just yet.”

I sigh and nudge Tara’s knee with my own. “Easier said than done, Sprout.”

Tara sighs as well and squeezes my arm. “I know.”

Silence settles over us for a couple of moments until I remember something I’ve been meaning to tell Tara for a while now.

“Tara?”

“Yeah?”

“While we’re being honest I just want to say I’m sorry for how things turned out with you and Amber. I know you liked her.”

Like me, she doesn’t deny anything. She just holds my arm tighter and plays with the fabric of my sleeve.

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Very short chapter, but it was necessary before we dive into the plot of the sixth movie next chapter.

Hope you all enjoyed it!

Next chapter is definitely going to be longer, I promise, but it’s going to take some time to write.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23

#x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter #scream

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 1 day ago

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Hiii :D would u be willing to make a 2012 leo x fem reader where reader is very dense to leo's obvious crush on her? And everyone else knows it and tries to be his wingman but reader just doesn't get it until he spells it out for her? Ofc if u don't want to you can ignore! I love your work xoxo 💕

We Just Have To Set The Mood (Fluff)

2012!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Finally got around to do this one! I decided to have a little fun and write it from the other’s perspective, just to try something a little different. I had a hard time doing it so Leo actually spelled it out to the reader, so I decided to focus on the wingman aspect of your request. I started to get a little bit of a writer's block towards the end, but I really wanted to get this finished for you💙 Hope you’ll enjoy anyway💙

Warnings: None💙

“Is she blind or something?”, Raph whispered in utter disbelief, watching you and Leo on the couch from his and Donnie’s hiding spot behind a pillar, their eyes following the movements of the two of you as you casually talked. Well, you at least seemed casual. Leo on the other hand looked like a love lost puppy, with practically bright pink hearts for eyes and a dreamy smile smeared over his face, as he listened to you talk. “I mean, look at him. He follows her around like a lost puppy! How has she not noticed?!”

“It’s (Y/N) we’re talking about, Raph”, Donnie reminded his brother. “This is the same girl that literally has been oblivious to Leo’s crush for years now. Have you forgotten the time Leo thought he had asked her out on a date, but then she brought April along, thinking it was a casual get together?”

“Don’t remind me”, Raph mumbled. “He was a sighing mess for two weeks, and he really wanted me to ask about it”.

“Did you ask him about it?”, Donnie questioned, raising a brow muscle.

“Of course not”, Raph said, neither he nor Donnie noticing the orange clad bundle of joy, silently making his way to his brothers from behind. “If I ask about it once, he will expect me to ask about it again another day”.

“What are we talking about?”, Mikey’s voice suddenly sounded behind the two brothers, causing them to do a little jump in surprise. So much for being a ninja, and you can’t even hear your little brother casually walking up behind you.

“Leo and (Y/N)”, Donnie said, sparing Raph from the madness. “They are talking, but (Y/N) is still as oblivious as always”.

“You’re joking”, Mikey said in disbelief, peeking out from his brothers’ hiding spot, to see the scene unfolding on the couch. He could practically hear Leo’s heart beat in his chest as you spoke, his hands fiddling with themselves in an effort to keep himself calm. Damn, he was struck hard.

“How long have they been sitting there?”, Mikey asked.

“An hour or two”, Raph answered. “And nothing has happened, other than Leo looking like an absolute fool”.

“We have to do something”, Mikey said, suddenly sounding like a man on a mission, making Raph’s eyes widen in fear for what his little brother may have had in mind. Donnie on the other hand just seemed sceptical.

“There’s not much we can do”, Donnie said, placing his hands on his hips. “Leo has specifically asked us not to let (Y/N) know, and so far he doesn’t seem like he’s ready to tell her”.

“Nobody has to tell anybody anything”, Mikey smiled, already having an idea in mind. “We just have to set the mood”.

“And how are we supposed to do that?”, Raph asked, crossing his arms, seeming not the least bit convinced by Mikey’s words. “We live in a sewer, for crying out loud”.

With a smile Mikey turned to his brother in red, before wiggling his brow muscles. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way”, was all he said, before slipping out of his brothers’ hiding spot, making his way across the room, heading straight for the kitchen.

Watching in confusion and curiosity, Donnie and Raph’s eyes followed Mikey as he made his way through the living area, past you and Leo. You, only seeming lightly aware of Mikey’s presence in the room, and Leo focused on nothing else but you.

It didn’t take long before Mikey came back from the kitchen, with a pack of chocolate in his hand. With a small skip in his step, Mikey made his way towards the couch, before taking a seat next to Leo on the opposite side of you, causing the older turtle to shoot him an annoyed look. The last thing Leo wanted right now, was for his brothers to ruin what small moments he got to spend alone with you.

“So”, Mikey said, opening the pack of chocolate in his hands. “How are you two doing today?” Out of the corner of his eye, Mikey could see both Raph and Donnie facepalm. But they did not know what Mikey had planned, and therefore Mikey was comfortable in his actions.

“We’re good, Mikey”, you smiled, not noticing the daggers Leo was staring at his youngest brother. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m good”, Mikey smiled, holding up the chocolate. “Just about to enjoy myself a treat”.

“Mikey”, Leo suddenly said, almost in a warning tone, trying to find a reason to get Mikey away from the main living area, so he could be alone with you again. “Didn’t you have that thing to do in your room?”

“What thing?”, Mikey asked, acting like he had no clue what Leo was talking about. But he knew exactly what Leo was trying to do.

“That thing you talked about earlier today”, Leo said, giving his brother a warning look.

“Oh!”, Mikey suddenly exclaimed, acting like Leo had reminded him of something. “You’re right! That thing!”

Mikey quickly got up from the couch, before springing towards his room, and the pillar Raph and Donnie still stood hiding behind. You and Leo giggled at each other, when you saw that Mikey had left his chocolate behind, however neither of you seemed to notice how the orange clad turtle still had the TV remote in his hand as he left.

“How is that going to set the mood?”, Raph whispered in a harsh voice, wondering if Mikey had lost his mind.

“Have faith in me brotha”, Mikey said, dingling the TV remote in front of his face. “I know what I’m doing”.

Frowning with confusion, Donnie and Raph watched as Mikey made his way over to the light switch, before turning it off. That caused a small startled sound from you, followed by small laughs from both you and Leo, saying something along the lines of it probably just behind his brothers pulling a prank of sorts. Much to both Raph and Donnie’s surprise, Leo suddenly seemed much less nervous, his laugh actually sounding somewhat confident.

With a big smile plastered over his face, Mikey made his way back to the pillar, giving his brothers a wink. “Now watch this”. With the TV remote in hand, Mikey pressed the on button, then sudden light from the TV filled you and Leo’s field of view, causing the two of you to jump in surprise, followed by the two of you laughing once more from your sudden shock.

“Now”, Mikey said, crossing his arms. “We just let the magic play out”.

“What magic?”, Raph asked, still not convinced.

“I think he’s talking about that magic”, Donnie said, pointing to you and Leo who had scooted closer to each other, so you had an easier time sharing the chocolate.

“I don’t believe it”, Raph mumbled, mouth open in disbelief, as you suddenly, for once looked at Leo with a hint of what he had been looking at you with.

“What is playing anyway?”, Donnie asked, honestly impressed with what he saw.

“Just that romantic series everyone is talking about”, Mikey said. “There’s a marathon tonight, so those two will have plenty of time to figure things out”.

“B- but”, Raph stammered, still not truly able to believe what was going on. “How did you know it would work? How did you know that was playing tonight?”

Mikey shrugged his shoulders with a small smile. “I got my secrets”.

“Secrets my shell”, Raph snarred. “How did you know?”

“Guys…”, Donnie said, trying to get his brothers’ attention so they could see how the scene on the couch was evolving.

“I can’t tell you all of my secrets”, Mikey said with a shrug, enjoying how it seemed to annoy Raph.

“You little-”.

“Guys!”, Donnie whispered more harshly, finally gaining the arguing turtles attention. “Look!”, he said, pointing towards you and Leo, who now sat on the couch with your arms loosely draped around each other, and your lips connected in a soft and sweet kiss.

Raph blinked at the sight, before turning to look at Mikey, who stood with a big smile. “I told you we just had to set the mood”.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt 2012 leo x reader #tmnt 2012 leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt 2012 leo #tmnt 2012 leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey

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lilmisssona · 3 days ago

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☃︎♡Dynamic And Vibing ☃︎♡

☃︎♡Pairing - Hyunjin × Fem Reader

☃︎♡Plot - You always thought only women got nervous meeting their boyfriend's family, but your boyfriend proves otherwise. He’s adorably stressed about finding the perfect outfit for Christmas dinner, and a shopping trip leads him to a sparkling pair of iconic boots. Little did you know, those boots would be the start of some unexpected holiday drama

☃︎♡Genre - Comedy, Crackhead Energy, Fluff

☃︎♡Warnings - crackhead energy, non idol au, strangers to lovers au, established relationship, comedy, fluffy ,dramatic

☃︎♡Word Count - 8.7K ☃︎♡ Screenshot Count - 1

☃︎♡A/N - Belated Happy New Year! Episode 4 of Staymas is here, and it's all about Hyunjin + chaotic family drama with a side of the sweetest fluff so buckle up! This is just slightly proofread so apologies for any mistakes 🙂‍↕️

☃︎♡SKZ Masterlist ☃︎♡ Staymas Masterlist

Chuseok at your parents’ house was always a beautiful chaos: comforting, loud, and brimming with life. It was everything you’d missed while studying abroad. For two years, you’d spent the holiday alone in a foreign city, attempting to recreate the flavors of home with store-bought tteok and shaky video calls with your family. But now, finally back in Seoul, the world felt familiar again, as if the missing pieces had finally clicked into place.

The past year had been a whirlwind....finishing your degree, landing a great job, and, most unexpectedly, meeting Hyunjin.

He wasn’t just an artist; he was the artist. The kind of guy who wore paint-streaked hoodies like they were high fashion and could make you laugh until you cried over his “accidental masterpiece” of spilling glitter on his sneakers. Hyunjin had an extraordinary gift for turning the ordinary into unforgettable moments, though most of those moments came with a dose of mild disaster.

But this Chuseok, Hyunjin wasn’t with you. He was neck-deep in preparations for a massive art festival, surviving on caffeine and two hours of sleep a night. Lately, your time together had been reduced to rushed coffee dates and late-night video calls.

“I promise I’ll be there next year,” he had said during one of those calls, holding a paintbrush like he was making a solemn vow. “But this festival…”

“I know,” you had reassured him, even as you wished for his presence now more than ever.

“Gotta go!” he’d added abruptly. “I need to channel my soul into these paintings, babe!”

You’d rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but deep down, you missed him - the chaos, the charm, the electric energy he brought into your life. Being home for Chuseok after two years felt monumental, but you couldn’t shake the wish that he could experience it with you.

Your family? They would’ve either fallen in love with him or been completely bewildered. Probably both.

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The chaos hit you the moment you stepped through the door of your parents’ house. Your mom’s voice greeted you before her eyes did.

“Close the door before all the heat escapes!” she scolded, not even looking up as she deftly flipped jeon and rolled mandu in the kitchen. The dining table was a vibrant mess of ingredients: bowls of sesame oil, chopped scallions, and a pile of persimmons waiting to be transformed into something beautiful. On the stove, galbijjim simmered away, its rich, savory aroma filling the house.

Your dad was at the table, valiantly attempting to fold rice cakes into their traditional half-moon shapes. As always, his songpyeon were hilariously lopsided, with sweet sesame filling threatening to spill from every edge.

“I think they look artistic,” he said, raising an eyebrow at your mom, who shot him her signature look of disapproval.

You smiled, imagining Hyunjin in this setting. He’d definitely find some poetic beauty in your dad’s uneven creations and probably call them “symbolic of imperfect perfection.”

“These songpyeon look like they need a rescue team,” your brother teased from his corner of the kitchen, where he was supposed to be grilling sweet potatoes. Instead, his phone was firmly in hand while the sweet potatoes burned, their charred skins proof of his negligence.

And then there was your grandmother, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, beaming as soon as her eyes landed on you. “Ah, my big-city granddaughter is back!” she exclaimed, patting the floor beside her. “Do they celebrate Chuseok over there?”

“They have Thanksgiving, Halmeoni. It’s… different,” you said, settling down next to her.

“Thanksgiving?” she repeated, her voice dripping with playful skepticism. “Do they have songpyeon?”

“Nope. That’s why I’m back here.”

“Well, come on, you haven’t forgotten how to shape songpyeon, have you?” she asked, handing you a ball of rice dough.

“I think I have,” you admitted sheepishly, eyeing the tray of perfectly crafted rice cakes.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a wink. “You’ve got me to teach you before you run off again.”

But Halmeoni wasn’t one to sit still for long. Before anyone could stop her, she was up on her feet, a piece of jeon in one hand and a fork in the other. “You don’t get legs like these by sitting around!” she declared, twirling across the room with a flair that belied her years.

Her laughter echoed through the house, and soon you were all joining in, your cheeks sore from smiling.

The house was alive with everything you’d missed - the clatter of pots, the hum of overlapping conversations, your mom’s occasional scolding, and the playful bickering between your brother and dad. After being away for so long, you’d almost forgotten how full, how warm, a home could feel during Chuseok.

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

Later, as you helped your mom set the dishes, you couldn’t help but think of Hyunjin. He would’ve turned the whole process into a comedy sketch, complete with exaggerated groans and theatrical hand gestures. You could almost hear him whining, “Why do mine look like deflated dumplings?” as he somehow managed to get sesame filling smeared all over his face.

At dinner, the table overflowed with every Chuseok dish you’d dreamed about while abroad. Your mom didn’t hold back, piling your plate high with galbijjim, japchae, and perfectly steamed songpyeon.

“Eat, eat,” she urged, watching you with that particular kind of satisfaction only a mother can feel.

“Mom, I can’t eat all of this,” you protested, though you knew you’d try anyway.

“You’ve been living on convenience store food for years. You need to eat properly now,” she said, her tone playful but her eyes filled with concern.

As the meal went on, the chatter and laughter filled the room, with everyone reminiscing about old times and grilling you about your life abroad.

Your brother, his devilish grin fully intact, suddenly decided to strike. “No boyfriend again this year? Does he even exist, or did you make him up?”

“What’s his name again?” your mom asked, peering at you over her glasses.

“Hyunjin,” you replied with a sigh, already exasperated.

“He’s real, bro, by the way,” you added, flicking your brother’s forehead in mock annoyance. “He’s just busy with an art festival.”

“Oh, an artist!” Grandma exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with intrigue. “Does he paint bowls of fruit or naked ladies?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Neither, Halmeoni. He’s more… abstract.”

“Abstract? Like splatters of paint on a canvas and calling it deep?” she asked, unimpressed, raising an eyebrow.

“More like…” You hesitated, recalling the time Hyunjin had proudly shown you a painting and described it as “a metaphor for a squirrel discovering capitalism.” Clearing your throat, you finished, “…Yeah, let’s go with that.”

At that moment, your dad set down his chopsticks, his posture shifting into something thoughtful. He leaned back in his chair with the kind of slow deliberation that meant he was about to drop some classic dad-level wisdom.

“This artist boyfriend of yours,” he began, voice low and serious, “does he know how to hold chopsticks properly?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… yes?”

“Good,” your dad said with a solemn nod, as if he’d just concluded a critical evaluation. “Then I want to meet him. Christmas dinner. Bring him over.”

The entire table went silent.

“Wait, what?” you stammered, your heart rate spiking. Was this a heart attack or just sheer panic?

Your brother perked up instantly, a Cheshire grin spreading across his face. “Oh, this is going to be so good,” he said, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Why Christmas?” you asked, your voice rising with desperation.

“Because,” your dad replied matter-of-factly, “I need to see if this ‘artist’ is worthy of my daughter. And Christmas feels right. Festive, but serious.”

“Festive, but serious?” you repeated, incredulous.

“Oh, this is a classic move,” your brother chimed in, clearly savoring your discomfort. “Dad’s going to ask him all the hard-hitting questions. Like, ‘What are your future plans?’ and ‘Do you plan on starving for your art or earning a real income?’”

Your dad shot him a sharp look. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“But you thought it,” your brother teased, not missing a beat.

“Dad,” you began, struggling to keep calm, “Hyunjin is not… he’s not just some random guy. He’s—”

“Exactly,” your dad interrupted. “He’s not some random guy. He’s someone important to you, which means I need to make sure he’s… let’s say, ‘qualified.’”

“Qualified? For what?!”

“For you,” your dad said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your grandma, still contentedly munching on songpyeon, decided it was her turn to chime in. “Oh, don’t scare the poor boy too much. Artists are sensitive, you know. One wrong word, and they’ll write a tragic poem about it.”

“Or paint a metaphor about a squirrel’s heartbreak,” your brother added, snickering.

You groaned, slapping your palm against your face. “He’s never going to agree to this.”

“Oh, he’ll agree,” your dad said confidently, like he’d already won. “If he cares about you, he’ll show up. And don’t worry, I’ll be nice. At first.”

“Dad,” you warned, your voice a mix of disbelief and dread.

“What?” he said innocently, blinking at you. “I just want to get to know the man who might steal my daughter away someday.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, Dad.”

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “If he can’t handle me, how’s he going to handle the rest of this family?”

Your grandma chuckled knowingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll back him up. Unless he says something stupid.”

“Like what?” you asked, your frustration mounting.

“Oh, you know,” she said airily, waving her hand. “If he starts talking about ‘artistic expression’ and goes on about how it reflects the struggles of the modern soul.”

“That actually sounds like something Hyunjin might say,” you muttered under your breath.

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

The conversation shifted to dessert, but the looming prospect of Hyunjin’s impending “interview” with your dad hung over the room like a storm cloud. Naturally, your brother, ever the instigator, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

“You know, Dad,” he began, leaning back in his chair with a grin that rivaled the Cheshire Cat’s, “you should start with something dramatic. Like, ‘What are your intentions with my daughter?’”

“Good idea,” your dad replied, stroking his chin as though preparing for a high-stakes interrogation.

You shot them both a withering glare. “This isn’t the 1800s. He’s not proposing with a cow and a handshake.”

“Well, he’d better not come empty-handed,” your mom chimed in, her tone light but firm. “A nice bottle of wine or a fruit basket would do. Something thoughtful.”

“Fruit basket?” your brother echoed, practically doubling over in laughter. “What is he, visiting a hospital?”

Your grandma, completely ignoring him, nodded sagely. “Yes, a fruit basket is good. Grapes show generosity, and apples mean good health.” She paused, then added with utmost seriousness, “But if he brings bananas, I’ll have questions.”

“Halmeoni!” you gasped, nearly choking on your water as your brother descended into uncontrollable laughter.

“What? They’re too casual!” she said, completely unfazed. “Bananas say, ‘I remembered this on the way over.’”

Your dad tapped his chopsticks on the table, like a judge calling for order in court. “Let’s focus here. This young man...Hyunjin, right?—he’s an artist. So, I need to know…” He trailed off dramatically.

“…Know what?” you asked, your patience thinning.

“If he paints with his heart or just his hands.”

“Are you serious?” you asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“Absolutely,” he replied, deadpan. “And if he paints with glitter, we’re going to have a long talk.”

“Why?” your brother asked, barely containing his amusement.

“Because,” your dad said with a grim finality, “glitter is the devil’s confetti. Once it’s in the house, it’s everywhere.”

You slapped a hand to your face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Oh, it’s going to get better,” your brother teased, practically bouncing with glee. “Dad should ask him about his five-year plan. You know, see if he’s planning to be a tortured artist or someone who can actually pay for a date.”

“I pay for dates, thank you very much!” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“Good,” your dad said with a nod of approval. “That means you’ve got a backup plan.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is a disaster.”

“No, no,” your mom said soothingly, patting your shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Just tell him not to take your dad’s poker face too seriously.”

“My poker face?” your dad echoed, visibly offended. “I don’t have a poker face!”

“Yes, you do,” your mom, grandma, and brother said in unison.

Your dad huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. But I’ll keep it light.”

“Define ‘light,’” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

“I’ll just ask him simple things. Like, does he prefer oil paints or acrylics? Does he have any famous artist friends? And why is he dating my daughter instead of focusing on his career?”

“Dad!”

Your grandma waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t scare him too much. Artists are resilient. They’re like weeds...they’ll grow anywhere.”

Your brother cackled, adding, “Or like glitter. Impossible to get rid of.”

Your dad raised a finger triumphantly. “Exactly. And we’ll see if he’s the kind of glitter we want sticking around.”

That night, as you slipped into your room, still chuckling at your family’s antics, the evening felt like a scene from a sitcom. Your dad’s mock-interrogation plans for Hyunjin, your grandma’s deadpan commentary about “sensitive artists,” and your brother’s relentless teasing played on a loop in your mind.

Beneath the laughter, though, your thoughts wandered to the day you first met Hyunjin.....

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

It had been months ago, during a wedding planning consultation. Your client, overwhelmed by the details, had sent a friend to meet you instead. “Don’t worry, they know everything,” your client had reassured you. “Hyunjin’s a good friend. You’ll be fine.”

You’d arrived at the café expecting someone serious, maybe a bit frazzled but focused. Instead, Hyunjin walked in like he was auditioning for a rom-com. Confidence radiated off him...until he tripped over the rug and went sprawling across the floor in a spectacularly ungraceful tumble.

For a moment, you were too stunned to react, staring as he scrambled to right himself. Then he looked up, grinning, and waved as though this were all part of his plan. “Hi! I’m Hyunjin,” he said cheerfully, as if he hadn’t just wiped out. “I’m here to meet the wedding planner?”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “That was… an entrance.”

Hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. “I like to keep things interesting,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But don’t worry...I’m all business now.”

“Business, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Totally,” he said, sitting down and immediately knocking over a sugar packet with his elbow. “The bride sent me. They’re handling the important stuff...catering, keeping Aunt Jeon from overdrinking, you know ? The essentials. I’m here to make sure the wedding’s a masterpiece.”

You stifled a laugh. “A masterpiece? Are you a wedding planner or…?”

“Artist,” he said, leaning back with a dramatic flair. “I paint, sculpt, create installations...basically, I make a mess and call it art.”

“An artist?” you repeated, surprised. “Then how did you end up here, planning a wedding?”

Hyunjin waved a hand as if it were no big deal. “The bride’s my friend. They needed someone with vision, and who better than an artistic genius? I don’t know anything about weddings, but I’m great at making things beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So… you’re suggesting we turn a wedding into an art exhibit?”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “Like, why have a boring tiered cake when you could have an abstract sculpture? A cake that’s a statement piece!”

“An avant-garde wedding cake?” you teased.

“Why not?” he replied, completely serious. “It’s not just dessert; it’s a metaphor. And seating? Who needs assigned seats? Let people pick where they feel inspired...it’s freedom, an artistic rebellion!”

You shook your head, biting back a smile. “You’re really leaning into this chaos, huh?”

“Chaos is just art waiting to happen,” he said with a wink.

The rest of the meeting was a whirlwind of wild ideas, each one more absurd than the last. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but enjoy his infectious energy. Hyunjin was unpredictable, chaotic even, but there was a charm to the way he embraced his quirks so unapologetically.

Over the weeks, he continued showing up to meetings, always armed with another outlandish idea. You never knew what to expect, but his presence made the planning process more fun than you’d anticipated.

One rainy afternoon, as you walked back from yet another meeting, a car sped through a puddle, sending water flying toward you. Before you could react, Hyunjin darted forward, attempting to shield you. Instead, he caught the full force of the splash.

Soaked from head to toe, he turned to you with an apologetic grin. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Next time, maybe skip the heroics?”

Hyunjin shrugged, dripping water but still smiling. “Hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

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

After that day, you and Hyunjin started spending more and more time together. Between wedding meetings, he’d randomly show up with plans for coffee runs, surprise visits to art galleries, and quirky little outings. Whether he was making you laugh unintentionally or with deliberate mischief, you found yourself falling for him, one laugh at a time.

One particularly stressful day, you were drowning in wedding prep, timelines, budgets, and last-minute crises piled high on your desk. Hyunjin waltzed in unannounced, his usual grin plastered across his face.

“You look like you need a break,” he said, pulling up a chair beside you. “How about a little distraction?”

You sighed, leaning back in frustration. “I don’t have time for distractions, Hyunjin. The wedding is in three days, and everything is falling apart.”

He tilted his head, studying you thoughtfully. “Okay, counteroffer: one hour at an art gallery. I promise it’ll clear your head.”

You frowned, torn between the mountain of work and the temptation in his eyes. Finally, you relented. “Fine. One hour.”

One hour turned into two. By the time you returned, the weight of your stress had lifted, replaced by the calm and joy of Hyunjin’s chaos. His ability to ease your burdens with simple, thoughtful gestures was just one of the many reasons you’d started to fall for him.

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

The months with Hyunjin had been a whirlwind of laughter, spontaneity, and moments that left you breathless. It wasn’t just his charm or his creativity that captured your heart-it was how he made the mundane feel extraordinary, as if life itself were art, waiting to be experienced.

That magic followed you tonight as the two of you wandered along the Han River under a warm, starlit sky. The breeze carried the faint scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of cicadas. Lanterns strung along the walkway cast a golden glow, illuminating his face as he animatedly talked about his latest project...a series of paintings inspired by emotions that couldn’t be put into words.

“One of them is all jagged, sharp strokes for when you want to laugh and cry at the same time,” he explained, gesturing enthusiastically. “And another is this swirl of soft, pastel shades...it’s supposed to feel like when you’re overwhelmed but kind of happy about it. It’s chaos, but that’s the beauty of it!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Hyunjin, your whole life is chaos. How do you manage to make it look so effortless?”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling like the river reflecting the city lights. “That’s the secret! Chaos isn’t something you manage...it’s something you embrace. Like a dance.”

“A dance?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “So, my life should be an interpretive dance of chaos?”

“Exactly!” he said, snapping his fingers as if he’d made a groundbreaking discovery. “And who better to teach you than me, the master of chaos?”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming, you mean?” he quipped, his dimples making an appearance as he flashed you his signature cheeky grin.

But before you could retort, he stopped walking, his expression shifting into something softer, almost hesitant. The playful light in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

“Actually…” he began, his voice quieter now, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What is it?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’d come to recognize. “I know I’ve been a bit of a whirlwind...crashing into your life with all my ridiculous ideas and dragging you into my chaos. But through it all, I’ve had the absolute best time getting to know you. And… I don’t want it to end.”

Your breath hitched, his words settling over you like a warm summer breeze.

“So,” he continued, stepping a little closer, “will you go on a date with me? A real one. No brainstorming, no interruptions...just you and me.”

You blinked, caught between surprise and the warmth blooming in your chest. “A real date?” you repeated, pretending to deliberate. “Does that mean I finally get a break from your creative chaos?”

He laughed, the sound light and full of relief. “I can’t promise that,” he admitted with a lopsided grin, “but I’ll try to keep it to a minimum. Controlled chaos.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you smiled at him. “Alright, Hyunjin. I’ll go on a date with you.”

The joy that lit up his face was brighter than the lanterns around you. He let out a breath he’d clearly been holding, his grin widening until it reached his eyes. “Really? You will?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks heat under his gaze. “But remember! you promised me controlled chaos.”

“Deal,” he said, his laughter carrying through the warm night air.

Then, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Your heart raced as you nodded, unable to speak.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice trembling with nervousness.

“Because I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, and I just… I can’t wait anymore.”

The sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to resist. You nodded again, your breath catching as the world seemed to slow around you.

The smile that spread across his face was gentle and full of warmth. His hands reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “I’m kind of terrified right now,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice just as quiet.

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was everything you didn’t know you needed - soft, warm, and filled with unspoken emotions that made your heart soar. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go. The warm breeze swirled around you, carrying the faint scent of flowers and the promise of something new.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a breathless laugh. “I didn’t mess that up, did I?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled, your hands resting on his chest. “Not even a little.”

His laughter bubbled up again, and he pulled you into a tight hug, his joy so infectious you couldn’t help but laugh along. As you stood there, wrapped in his arms beneath the warm summer sky, you realized something: Hyunjin wasn’t just chaos...he was your chaos. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

Fast forward to now, as you lay in bed scrolling through your phone, a fond smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about how you met Hyunjin. Suddenly, your screen lit up with an incoming call, his name flashing across it. Without hesitation, you answered.

“Have you eaten?” he asked immediately, his voice warm and familiar, like a favorite melody.

You laughed softly. “Yes, Hyunjin, I’ve eaten. Have you?”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Barely. Today was insane. The exhibition was pure chaos..like, actual chaos. One of the canvases fell off the wall mid-display, someone tripped over the lighting cords, and, oh, let’s not forget when I spilled paint on the gallery owner’s shoes.”

You winced, barely stifling a laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault my art invites so much… energy,” he defended, though the amusement in his voice was impossible to miss. “Anyway, how was Chuseok without me? Did your family miss me?”

“Oh, you know,” you teased, “the usual chaos: food, teasing, and… questions about you.”

“About me?” he asked cautiously, suspicion creeping into his tone. “What kind of questions?”

You hesitated, knowing his reaction would be priceless. “Well… my family wants to meet you. On Christmas.”

There was a brief pause. “They what?”

“They want to meet you,” you repeated, biting back a grin.

Hyunjin groaned dramatically. “Like, face-to-face? ‘Sit-down-and-talk-about-my-life’ meet me?”

“Exactly,” you said, barely suppressing your laughter.

“Oh no,” he muttered. “This is bad. Your dad’s going to grill me like I’m the main course. He’s probably already drafting a list of questions about my job, and when I panic and start talking about spaghetti metaphors, it’s all going to spiral. Your brother will just sit there smirking, waiting for me to mess up. And your grandma… she’s going to judge me for the way I hold chopsticks, isn’t she?”

You burst into laughter. “Relax, Hyunjin. My grandma only cares about two things: whether you bring good wine and if your fruit basket game is strong.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, his voice laced with panic. “I have to bring a fruit basket and wine? Is this a Christmas dinner or a survival challenge?”

“It’s festive but serious,” you replied, grinning. “Dad calls it:

‘An occasion for celebration and evaluation’

Which is basically code for: let’s judge you while enjoying ham.”

Hyunjin groaned again. “Why does your dad sound like he’s hosting auditions for the role of son-in-law?”

“Because he kind of is,” you teased, trying not to laugh at his distress.

“Great,” he deadpanned. “I’m walking into a festive firing squad. And I have to come armed with fruit and wine? Do they prefer a classic fruit basket or something more avant-garde? Should I arrange it in the shape of a Christmas tree? Or is that too much?”

“You’re overthinking it,” you assured him, still grinning. “Just grab some nice apples and oranges. Maybe throw in a pear or two for flair.”

“And the wine?” he asked, his voice rising in panic again. “Red or white? Sweet or dry? What if your dad secretly prefers whiskey and silently judges me for bringing wine? What if your grandma’s secretly a sommelier and I offend her with a cheap bottle?”

“Hyunjin,” you said, struggling to keep a straight face, “my grandma thinks boxed wine is fancy. You’ll be fine.”

He let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Okay, fruit basket, wine. Got it. Anything else? Do I need to dress up? Is there a secret handshake? Should I prepare a speech?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Just be yourself. Chaotic, but respectful chaos, remember?”

“Respectful chaos,” he repeated as if it were a mantra. “Alright. I can do this. But if your dad starts grilling me and I start rambling about spaghetti metaphors, you better jump in and save me.”

“Deal,” you said, still laughing.

“And if I survive this dinner,” he added mischievously, “you owe me a nice, peaceful date. No questions, no interrogations.”

“Deal,” you agreed.

As you hung up, you could already picture Hyunjin wandering through a store, agonizing over fruit basket aesthetics and wine labels. You knew Christmas dinner would be chaotic...after all, it always was. But with Hyunjin? It would be a chaos you wouldn’t trade for anything...

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

You used to think meeting a significant other’s family was nerve-wracking only for women. Oh, how wrong you were. In your case, it was your boyfriend, Hyunjin, who was spiraling into a full-blown, Oscar-worthy meltdown about Christmas dinner with your family.

Currently, you were perched on his bed, cross-legged, watching the spectacle unfold with a mix of amusement and secondhand anxiety. Hyunjin was on his third frantic lap through his closet, tossing sweaters and shirts around like a tornado. You leaned back against the pillows, silently debating whether to intervene or just let him burn off his dramatic energy.

“Hyunjin,” you finally said, trying to sound soothing, “it’s just dinner, not the Met Gala.”

He whirled around, clutching two wildly different sweaters: a classic black one and something that looked like it had been stolen from an 80s ski lodge. His face was the epitome of despair. “Just dinner? Do you understand what’s at stake here? This is Christmas dinner! Your dad is going to interrogate me like he’s hosting a true-crime podcast. He’ll ask about my job, my future, my intentions, and when I inevitably panic, I’ll start talking about spaghetti metaphors!”

“Spaghetti metaphors?” you repeated, biting back a laugh.

“Yes, it’s a thing!” He threw the black sweater onto the floor with a dramatic flourish. “When I get nervous, I talk in analogies. And somehow, everything ends up being about pasta. Last time I described my art process as ‘like boiling spaghetti,’ and the gallery owner looked like he wanted to fire me on the spot.”

By now, you were laughing so hard your stomach hurt. “Okay, so my dad might ask a few questions....”

“A few questions?!” he interrupted, his hands flying to his hair. “Your dad is going to stare into my soul, your brother is going to roast me like a Christmas ham, and your grandma...oh god, your grandma! She’s going to judge me for how I hold my chopsticks, isn’t she? Is there a secret technique? Should I start practicing now?”

“Relax,” you said between giggles. “Grandma doesn’t care about chopsticks. She cares about two things: if you bring good wine and if your fruit basket game is good or not. "

“Wine and fruit basket. Got it,” he said, nodding like he was preparing for battle. “Okay, one disaster averted. But what about my outfit? I can’t just show up looking like I rolled out of bed. I need to look… professional. No, wait—approachable. Charming. Like the perfect boyfriend. Do I look like the perfect boyfriend in this sweater?” He gestured to the ski-lodge monstrosity he was now wearing.

“Honestly?” you said, grinning. “You look like a backup dancer for an 80s Christmas music video.”

“Great,” he groaned, tossing the sweater aside. “I’m doomed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Or… we could just go to the mall and find something nice. Something that says ‘respectable artist’ instead of ‘escaped circus performer.’”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Mall? Yes. Let’s go. I can feel it—I’m going to find the perfect outfit.”

Fast forward to the mall, where Hyunjin had already tried on and rejected half the men’s section. Three blazers, two turtlenecks, and enough dress shirts to outfit a boy band later, you were starting to lose hope.

And then it happened.

You saw it before Hyunjin did...a pair of metallic, shimmering boots that practically glowed under the store lights.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, already sensing doom.

But Hyunjin’s eyes widened with pure delight. “Oh yes,” he whispered, making a beeline for the display.

“Hyunjin, no,” you said firmly, following after him.

“Hyunjin, yes!” he countered, picking up one of the boots like it was the Holy Grail. “These boots are everything. They’re bold, they’re iconic, they scream ‘fearless boyfriend.’”

“They scream ‘disco ball meets midlife crisis,’” you deadpanned, staring at the blindingly shiny boots.

“Your family will love them!” he said, slipping one on and striking a pose. “Look at this. I’m making a statement.”

“Yeah, the statement is, ‘Please stop staring at my feet,’” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

A sales assistant wandered over, clearly trying not to laugh. “Those are… bold,” she said diplomatically.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin replied, beaming. “I’ll take them.”

“Hyunjin, no!” you protested, but it was too late. He was already at the counter, handing over his credit card like he’d just won the lottery.

As you left the store, Hyunjin practically skipping with his shiny new boots, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “your family is going to remember me forever.”

“Oh, they’ll remember you,” you said. “They might even still be talking about you next Christmas.”

“Good,” he replied with that signature grin. “First impressions matter.”

“You do realize my dad’s going to ask you about your job, right? While you’re wearing those?”

“Exactly!” he said, his grin widening. “When I tell him I’m an artist, the boots will speak for themselves. They say, ‘This man is fearless.’”

You groaned, shaking your head. “You’re killing me, Hyunjin.”

And as you both walked toward the parking lot, Hyunjin proudly clutching his shiny new boots like they were priceless treasures, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of amusement and dread. Christmas dinner with your family was already shaping up to be an unforgettable event...though whether for good or chaotic reasons remained to be seen...

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

“Alright, so we’ve got the boots,” you said, trying to suppress a grin. “But there’s still one tiny thing left to handle: the fruit basket.”

“Yes, the fruit basket,” he repeated, nodding seriously. Then, with a sudden drop in his voice, he added, “I really hope I don’t mess it up.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing at his dramatic tone. “It’s fruit, Hyunjin. Not a job interview. Let’s just find something nice and call it a day.”

The two of you headed to a fancy grocery store, where Hyunjin immediately locked eyes with the aisles of meticulously arranged fruits. To him, it seemed, this was no ordinary shopping trip. He surveyed the scene like a warrior choosing his weapon for battle.

“I’ve never felt so much pressure over fruit,” he muttered, holding up an apple like it was a rare artifact. “Do you think this one says, ‘I’m responsible and thoughtful’?”

“It’s just an apple,” you replied, trying to keep him grounded.

“But it’s the apple,” he insisted, turning it over in his hands. “It needs to symbolize my commitment to this dinner. The apple is my ticket to acceptance!”

You watched as he placed the perfectly fine apple back and instead grabbed a comically oversized one, clearly trying to make a statement. “Hyunjin, it’s a fruit basket, not a résumé.”

After what felt like an eternity of inspecting, analyzing, and overthinking every piece of produce, you finally settled on an assortment. Hyunjin proudly selected a particularly dramatic pineapple, claiming it “looked artistic” and would anchor the whole basket.

At checkout, his confidence was back in full force. “I think I nailed it,” he said, beaming. “This fruit basket says, ‘I’m here for family, but I’m also a little extra.’”

“Perfect,” you said, nodding. “Now just don’t forget the most important part of Christmas dinner.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his curiosity genuine.

“Grandma’s dance,” you said casually.

His face fell instantly. “What?”

“Oh, don’t act surprised,” you teased. “Every year, after dinner, my grandma gets up and does her little dance. It’s her tradition.”

“No,” he said, wide-eyed and panicked. “Please, no. I can’t do this. I can’t even dance in front of you, let alone an audience.”

“Sorry, but you’re in it now,” you said, smirking. You could already picture the scene...your grandma in her festive red sweater and apron, hopping and twirling around the living room with surprising energy.

“You’re telling me... your grandma dances?” Hyunjin asked, his disbelief apparent.

“Yep,” you said, barely holding back your laughter. “And she’s good at it. Don’t be shocked if she pulls you up to join her.”

Hyunjin looked like he was seriously considering fleeing. “This is my worst nightmare.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, nudging him. “It’ll be fun. You’ll blend right in.”

“Blend in? Wearing shiny boots and holding a fruit basket, dancing with your grandma in front of your entire family? Sure, what could go wrong?” he muttered, shaking his head in despair.

“Exactly. Nothing to worry about,” you said with a grin.

He shot you a look. “If I trip, I’m blaming the boots.”

“And I’ll be in the front row with my camera,” you teased, watching him glare at the boots like they were both his greatest triumph and his downfall.

“Great,” he sighed dramatically. “Immortalized forever on your grandma’s Instagram: shiny boots, fruit basket, and all. Perfect.”

You laughed as you both headed back to your place, bracing for the chaos to come. Between Hyunjin’s flair for theatrics, your grandma’s impromptu dance moves, and a family that wouldn’t let anything slide, Christmas dinner was bound to be a spectacle.

But as you glanced over at him, shiny boots and pineapple in tow, you couldn’t help but smile. If anyone could survive the night...and somehow make it charming...it was Hyunjin. Chaos, quirks, and all...

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

As you and Hyunjin approached your family’s front door, his steps growing slower with every inch closer. For the fifth time since leaving the car, he adjusted the fruit basket in his hands. “Do you think the pineapple’s too much?” he asked, glancing nervously at the artfully arranged assortment.

You turned to face him, stifling a laugh. “Hyunjin, it’s a fruit basket, not a dowry. Relax.”

He sighed, unconvinced. “But what if your dad thinks the pineapple is, I don’t know, pretentious? Or worse!, what if he hates mangoes?”

“Who hates mangoes?” you asked, amused.

“I don’t know!” he whispered dramatically, his eyes wide. “I just really want to make a good impression.”

“You’ll be fine,” you said, reaching up to straighten his slightly crooked tie. “Just be yourself.”

He shot you a skeptical look. “Being myself has historically led to chaos.”

“Lucky for you, my family thrives on chaos,” you teased, giving him an encouraging smile before ringing the doorbell.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing your grandma, her face lighting up when she saw you. “There’s my favorite granddaughter!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug before her gaze shifted to Hyunjin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “And who’s this tall drink of water?”

Hyunjin, caught off guard, thrust the fruit basket and bottle of wine toward her like peace offerings. “Hello, ma’am. I brought this for your family. The fruit selection is... uh, curated.”

Grandma took the basket, inspecting it like it was a work of art. “Curated, you say? Well, look at this pineapple...very artistic. You’ve got an eye for detail, young man.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hyunjin said, bowing slightly.

“And wine, too?” she added, holding up the bottle. “Now we’re talking. Come in, you’re already off to a good start.”

As you stepped inside, Hyunjin scanned the room, taking in the cozy chaos of your family’s Christmas decor. Twinkling lights covered every surface, stockings hung unevenly on the mantel, and the Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, laden with mismatched ornaments.

But before he could comment on the festive ambiance, his shiny boots betrayed him. He slipped on the polished floor, flailing for balance until his arm instinctively grabbed the closest thing - your beloved Christmas tree.

Grandma, still holding the fruit basket, let out a laugh that echoed through the room. “Well, that’s certainly one way to make an entrance.”

Hyunjin quickly let go of the tree, brushing pine needles off his sleeve with an embarrassed grin. “Honestly, it’s a very... huggable tree.”

Your dad, watching the scene unfold from his armchair, raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “So, this is the boyfriend?”

“Yes, Dad,” you said quickly, stepping in before Hyunjin could spiral. “This is Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin straightened up under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. “Sir,” he said respectfully, bowing.

Before your dad could say anything, your mom entered from the kitchen, her festive apron dusted with flour. “Hyunjin, welcome! You’ve already charmed Mom with that fruit basket, so you’re doing well so far.”

Hyunjin gave a small, nervous smile. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m happy to be here.”

“Let’s see how long that lasts,” your brother said as he strolled in, a smirk on his face. He gestured toward the tree. “Hugging the decorations already? Bold choice.”

“It was... an artistic reflex,” Hyunjin replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your dad cleared his throat, the room falling silent as he leaned back in his chair. “Hyunjin, let’s talk. What do you do for a living?”

Hyunjin hesitated for a moment, glancing at you for reassurance. “I’m an artist, sir. I specialize in abstract painting.”

“Abstract painting,” your dad repeated, his tone even. “Interesting. How does one make a career out of that?”

Hyunjin straightened his shoulders, his voice steady. “I showcase my work in galleries and take on commissions. It’s about creating connections and telling stories through colors and forms.”

Your brother let out a snort. “So... finger painting for grown-ups?”

You glared at him, but before you could defend Hyunjin, he laughed. “Not quite, but I’ll admit it can get messy sometimes.”

“Messy, huh?” your dad said, leaning back in his chair, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. “And what are your intentions with my daughter?”

Hyunjin’s face turned a shade redder than the poinsettias on the table. “My intentions are... entirely honorable, sir. I care about her deeply, and I...”

“Want to hug her like the tree?” your brother cut in, earning a sharp glare from you and a chuckle from your mom.

“Enough teasing,” your mom said, stepping in to rescue him. She smiled at Hyunjin. “For what it’s worth, I like you. Anyone who can handle my mom’s humor and not run for the hills is good in my book.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hyunjin replied, his relief evident.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” your grandma piped up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “There’s one final test. Every Christmas, we dance. And since you’re part of this gathering now, you’re up.”

“Dance?” Hyunjin repeated, his voice rising slightly in pitch.

“Oh, yes,” your grandma said as she made her way to the stereo. “You’re going to have to keep up with me.”

Your brother leaned back on the couch, smirking. “This is going to be epic. Grandma’s got moves.”

Your dad crossed his arms, an amused glint in his eyes. “Consider it part of your initiation.”

Hyunjin shot you a look of pure desperation as festive music began to play. “You’re not going to save me, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said, laughing.

With surprising agility, your grandma started twirling across the room, her movements almost defying her age. Hyunjin took a deep breath and hesitantly joined her. What followed was a chaotic, laugh-out-loud performance as Hyunjin tried to keep up with your grandma’s energetic spins and dips. He stumbled through a few steps, narrowly avoided tripping over a stray stocking, and accidentally sent a candy cane flying off the tree.

Your brother was in hysterics, snapping photos. “This is comedy gold. I’m framing this.”

Your mom leaned toward you, her expression warm. “He’s charming,” she whispered. “I think he’s a keeper.”

You smiled, watching Hyunjin finish the dance with a dramatic, albeit unsteady, flourish. “I think so too.”

Panting but triumphant, Hyunjin received a hearty clap on the back from your grandma. “Not bad, artist boy,” she said with a grin. “You’ve got spirit.”

Hyunjin gave a shaky thumbs-up, still catching his breath. “I told you... I’m dynamic... and vibing.”

The room erupted into laughter, filling the space with the kind of warmth only family can create.

As the laughter subsided, Hyunjin collapsed into the nearest chair, wiping his brow. “Your grandma should be a dance instructor,” he said, still smiling. “I feel like I just survived an audition for Dancing with the Stars.”

Your grandma smirked, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Oh, honey, if you think that was tough, wait until I challenge you to a salsa battle next year.”

“Next year?” Hyunjin repeated, his eyes wide as he looked at you for backup.

“Don’t worry,” you teased, patting his shoulder. “You’ll have a whole year to practice.”

Your brother, still scrolling through the pictures he’d taken, held up his phone. “I’m definitely printing this one,” he said, showing a particularly unflattering shot of Hyunjin mid-spin, arms flailing wildly.

Hyunjin groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is going to haunt me forever, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” your brother replied, grinning. “I’m thinking Christmas cards. Maybe even a calendar.”

Your dad, who had been quietly observing the chaos with a faint smile, finally spoke up. “All right, enough tormenting the poor guy. Let’s move on to dinner. I’m starving.”

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

Your mom emerged from the kitchen, balancing a tray of appetizers with practiced ease. “Dinner will be ready soon,” she said, setting the tray down. “In the meantime, why don’t we all sit and let Hyunjin catch his breath?”

As everyone moved toward the dining table, Hyunjin leaned in close to you. “Your family is... something else,” he murmured, equal parts amused and overwhelmed.

“They like you,” you whispered back, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. “Even my brother. This is just how they test people.”

“Test me?” he asked, arching a brow. “I feel like I’ve just survived an Olympic event.”

“Consider it a rite of passage,” you said with a grin.

Once everyone was seated, your dad picked up where he’d left off, his tone now more conversational. “So, Hyunjin, tell me more about your art. Where do you find your inspiration?”

Hyunjin straightened up, clearly more comfortable with the question. “A lot of my inspiration comes from emotions - joy, chaos, even moments like this,” he said, gesturing to the lively scene around the table. “I try to capture the energy of an experience and translate it visually.”

Your grandma, mid-bite of a canap��, perked up. “So, you’d paint this? A Christmas dinner with a fruit basket centerpiece and a tree barely standing after you hugged it?”

Hyunjin laughed. “Exactly. I’d call it Festive Mayhem.”

Your brother smirked. “Can I be in it? As the voice of reason, obviously.”

You rolled your eyes. “Voice of reason? You’re the cause of most of the chaos.”

“Hey,” your brother said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “I’m just making sure the boyfriend is worthy of my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister,” you shot back.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite,” he replied with a wink.

Your dad chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, Hyunjin, you’ve made it through the dance floor and my questions. That’s no small accomplishment.”

“And you’ve won over Grandma,” your mom added with a warm smile. “That might be the hardest part.”

Hyunjin let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Honestly, I was prepared to sneak out of here in the fruit basket if things went south.”

Your grandma raised her glass, eyes twinkling. “To Hyunjin and his shiny boots! May they carry him through many more family gatherings.”

“Hear, hear!” your brother chimed in, lifting his mug of hot chocolate.

Hyunjin laughed, finally letting his guard down as he clinked glasses with everyone. As dinner was served and the conversation turned to lighter topics, he leaned over to you again, his tone softer. “You were right,” he said, smiling. “Your family thrives on chaos... but I kind of love it.”

You glanced around the table....your dad telling one of his signature groan-worthy Christmas jokes, your mom debating recipes with your grandma, and your brother mock-arguing over the “correct” way to hang tinsel...and smiled. “I told you they’d like you.”

Hyunjin’s fingers found yours under the table, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m starting to like them too. Even your brother. Sort of.”

“High praise,” you teased, nudging him lightly.

By the time dessert was served and gifts were exchanged, Hyunjin was laughing alongside your family as if he’d been part of it for years. Your grandma even roped him into another impromptu salsa dance, which he tackled with much more confidence and far fewer collisions.

----------------------------------‐-----------------------

After dinner, the house buzzed with the warmth of a festive afterglow. The hum of your family’s laughter and chatter filled the living room, but you and Hyunjin slipped upstairs to your bedroom, seeking a moment of quiet amidst the chaos.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the lively sounds from downstairs became a muffled hum. Hyunjin leaned back against the door, exhaling dramatically. “That was... an experience,” he said with a breathy laugh, his face a mix of relief and amusement.

You smiled, crossing the room to him. “An experience, huh? That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.”

He grinned, tilting his head. “Okay, fine. It was borderline chaotic. But also kind of amazing.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to brush a stray pine needle off his shoulder. “You survived. That’s what counts.”

“Survived?” he echoed, feigning offense. “I conquered. Well, maybe stumbled my way through, but still...points for effort?”

You chuckled, leaning against him. “You more than earned your points. My family already adores you...pineapple and all.”

Hyunjin’s face softened, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “Your family is wild, but I can see where you get it from. They’re... wonderful.”

His arms found their way around you, pulling you into a cozy hug. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The whirlwind of the evening melted away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, perfect moment.

“Thank you for tonight,” you murmured, your voice soft against the fabric of his sweater. “For putting up with my brother’s teasing, Grandma’s dancing, and everything in between.”

Hyunjin chuckled, his chest vibrating lightly under your cheek. “Honestly? I loved every second of it. Even the salsa battle I wasn’t prepared for.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your smile widening. “You were amazing out there. I mean, the tree might not agree, but still.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flutter. “I was just giving the tree some love. It looked lonely.”

You playfully swatted his arm, and he caught your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Seriously, though,” he said, his voice softer now. “I’d go through all the chaos in the world if it meant being with you.”

The sincerity in his words made your cheeks warm, and you felt your heart swell. “You’re too good to be true,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Hyunjin smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Me too. Chaos and all, this is one of the best nights I’ve ever had.”

The distant sounds of your family’s laughter drifted up the stairs, a warm reminder of the love and joy that had filled the evening. But here, in this quiet bubble with Hyunjin, it felt like time had slowed. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his hand came up to gently cradle your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with emotion.

Your breath caught, and you nodded, unable to hide your smile. “You don’t have to ask.”

His lips curved into a soft smile before he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The kiss was tender, sweet, and slow, like he was pouring every unspoken word and feeling into it. The world seemed to blur and quiet around you, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the taste of his kiss.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his eyes still closed. “You make all of this worth it,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of sincerity.

Your heart swelled, and you smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re worth it too.”

Hyunjin laughed lightly, the sound vibrating between you. “Are you sure you’re not a dream? Because this feels too good to be real.”

“If I’m a dream, then don’t wake up,” you teased, your voice playful but full of affection.

He grinned, stealing one more quick kiss before pulling you back into his arms. And as the muffled sounds of your family’s laughter continued downstairs, you stayed wrapped up in the quiet joy of this perfect moment with him, knowing it was one you’d never forget....

☃︎♡ Bonus - Man's so hot he really makes even shiny boots and shiny pants stand out with an artistic impression 😌🤌😍🫠 ( Like how can you not drool 🫣)

☃︎♡Tags - @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @yangbbokari @theo4eve @livelovelaughmiko @silverstarburst @galaxycatdrawz @skzoologist @shua-f4lmings @iknowyouknowminho @krisstheidiot @hyunjinhoexxx @gho-ster @ezlynkisses @elmoslungcancer @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @seungseung-minmin @cuddlylonelyperson @jeonginsleftcheek @oreoqueen @freekyfangirl

Comment your @ If you wish to be added or removed from this list ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

☃︎♡ENDNOTE - Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids. Make sure to like, reblog comment, and follow me for new updates!

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martsonmars · 1 day ago

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Hi friends! I keep committing and recommitting to making a serious effort to come back to the fandom, and I think this time finally I got my Snowbaz feelings back for real. So I'm going to try. Thank you to everyone who kept tagging me; I'm a little lost re: new people existing on Tumblr, but I hope to catch up!

So much to do in this post. For now, some snippets.

Exhibit A: my writing goal for the month. It's okay if it doesn't work out, but I decided I need short-term writing goals and this is my first one.

Baz pushes his sunglasses up his nose, staring at the man behind the counter of the shop. He hopes that hiding in plain sight—without his costume, without his mask—is a more effective disguise than trying to wear a fake moustache.

The apron is there, gloriously stretching over a broad chest that does not turn Baz's insides into soup and make him wish he could go back three—five, ten—years and do everything differently.

Exhibit B: COBB idea. I'm so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!

Going right is never the right choice.

I've known this since the first time my father brought me along on his travels (read: I hid in his trunk) and I had to face a crocodile armed only with a blunt Swiss Army knife I'd stolen from said trunk. All because I'd turned right. And then right again.

When he found me, scraped knees and his precious knife lost in the belly of the beast, he didn't even yell. He just looked at me like he always did. Like the biggest disappointment in his life of failures.

Exhibit C: potential second COBB idea, that I'm going to submit only if I make enough progress by the end of the month.

[Baz] holds my hand like it's the only thing keeping him grounded. Present. The minutes are trickling away from us like sand in a broken hourglass. The sun hasn't started rising yet, the night as dark as it gets, the cold seeping into our bones.

He holds my hand like he's afraid he'd float away if he didn't.

I know I'd be glad if it happened.

I have a lot of fandom resolutions for this year and I'm scared they'll end up like any New Year's resolutions... but I'll list them anyway. 6 resolutions Sunday:

Be more involved on Tumblr. I want to post more, but especially start reblogging and commenting on things again.

Write more. Last year I wrote so little and posted even less, and it made me sad when I realised it in the past days. So much was going on, so I don't blame myself, but I miss writing and I believe I can try to make it a regular thing again.

I want to read more fics. It's been years since I last read fics consistently. I missed everything!! Time to slowly catch up.

Relatedly, I want to try to comment more. I've never been a great commenter because it overwhelms me, but it's hypocritical since I need everyone and their brother to leave 10 paragraph long comments on everything I write... So I want to commit to doing better.

I want to try to publish a fic every month, at least. @palimpsessed suggested doing some sort of monthly countdown to Carry On's birthday in October and I'm all in.

I want to succeed at COBB. For one reason or the other, more often than not because I am cursed and I never finished writing my things, I've never managed to start and finish posting something for COBB. But I have two concepts I'm so excited about (not sure yet if I'll try both of them) and I want to commit to doing well. Wish me good luck.

My good old tagging list <3 I hope to add new people soon! But hi my dear old friends, how's it going?

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @hushed-chorus @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @noblecorgi @j-nipper-95

#six sentence sunday #my writing

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allmylifemyseasons · 2 days ago

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Goodnight and Go~ Choi Yeonjun

synopsis: Yeonjun hates parting at night or... peeks of y/n's and yeonjun's relationship underneath the night sky.

pairing: College student! Choi Yeonjun x afab! reader

song: Goodnight and Go - Imogen heap (lost the plot halfway through, but point is, they are DOWN BAD for each other, Yeonjun more, and they are sickly sweet which the song is too, so... a win is a win.)

warnings- none? not really a plot... just moments of the relationship... mostly fluff/comfort, CHEESINESS (SELF INDLUGING), yeonjun being head over heel for you, just sickly sweet im telling ya... mentions of sexual acts but none performed (not there yet sadly)

( AND PROBABLY BAD WRITING BUT WE FINISHED A STORY SO?????? I WIN), OH FORGOT TO SAY.... it's also unedited....

Word count: 4.8k (ha...)

A/N: Hello! this is my first work on here, and honestly its a bit of a mess, but I made a new years resolution that id start writing more and posting it, and I just spent a couple of hours writing non stop... Please give me constructive criticism, I need rejection therapy LMAO, no but really, I want to be good so bad...

Yeonjun rubs his hands together and blows his hot breath in between them, trying to defrost his frozen fingers, and it works but only for a bit. He watches that same air crystalize in front of him as he thinks of what else to say. You both stood by your door now, the front yard light was dim but shined brightly enough to see the blush across both of your faces. He was desperate for the night to continue, he wanted to hear you talk until the end of time, be around you until the sun came up, but he notices the shiver your body does everytime the wind blows.

Yeonjun had seen you around before asking you on a date. It was one of those weird moments in cheesy rom coms, where you just wouldn't stop spawning everywhere he went. All throughout campus, you would appear, with the brightest smile he'd ever seen. You were always laughing, always smiling, always speaking with such enthusiasm in a conversation. When he finally put a voice to the smile, after sitting in the only chair left available in a class you shared, Yeonjun understood why those around you carried the same smile around, even after parting from you. Yeonjun had never felt as listened to as much as he did in the first conversation you had and the ones following it. He wondered just exactly how you did it, to make any person that spoke to you, the most important person in the world.You were addicting to be around, a source of comfort and laughter. When he finally got the courage to ask you out, a day before fall semester ended, he felt the clouds push back as you smiled softly, for the first time looking nervously everywhere else before saying yes, a twinkle shined in your eye, like a disney movie and he felt absolutely captivated from there on.

“Um, anyways, thanks for dinner tonight,” You say looking directly up at him, your eyes shined with hope as if you were expecting something. You clear your throat before continuing, “and thanks for the jacket.”

You begin to peel it off your shoulders:

“Now, please put it on before your future cold gets worse,”

“Pfft, what cold? Ill be fine~”He smirks confidently, waving a dismissive hand as he bunches up his jacket to prove a point.

“I can't wait to say I told you so.” you tease.

“You wish, in fact I'm gonna be so fine, I'm hoping I can see you again? Maybe before the weekend ends? Friday? There's that new spiderman movie… ” Anything. He thinks to himself. He doesn't worry about looking too desperate, it truly doesn't bother him to show you that he wants you, bad, because he really does.

“Hmm… okay let's make a deal. If you're feeling fine by this Friday, you get to pick the movie. If youre sick, I pick it…” A win-win. He smirks, “...after you get better…” His smile drops.

“Ugh..” He rolls his eyes playfully before sticking his hand out, “...deal.” He makes a mental note to take vitamins before heading to bed.

You shake his hand as a giggle falls from your lips.

You're surrounded by an awkward silence again, you're no longer looking at him but literally anywhere else. He knows what you're waiting for, and honestly he wants it too. Your lips, that were tinted and glossed, had been distracting him all night, but he was nervous. Yeonjun had always been someone who moved fast, always quick to jump the rope. In the past, he would have walked right on in on the first date and would've stayed the night, and the relationships themselves would move quickly to the point that things would get messy and things were not fully thought through. He didn't want to do that with you, he didn't want to ruin this. But was a kiss considered slow? Fast? He didn't have enough time to mull it over.

“Um, so yeah let me know…” You chuckle awkwardly, reaching back for the handle of the door. There's still hope in your eyes until he speaks up.

“I will, thanks for coming out with me tonight, y/n” Yeonjun steps backwards, feeling regret rush through his body. He thinks it might overcome him before he catches a genuine smile on your face, “Goodnight, Jun.”

“Goodnight.” He watches you walk in before walking back to his car, where he dwells on the sweet image of your smile.

Your lips. God, your lips.

He should've done it, what's fast about a kiss? The look you gave him replays in his mind, flutters breaking out in his stomach over and over again each time. The regret is making him move ten times slower and distracts him well enough that he doesn't notice the moving figure circling around his car to the driver's side window.

The knock makes him jump. He rolls his window down, looking awfully confused because here you were, kneeling down to his level, with a nervous look.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Did you forget something?”

You stare at him for a bit, “Um, yeah, j-just this…” You lean forward hesitant before landing a quick peck on his lips. It happened so fast Yeonjun barely had time to feel your lips pressed on his, but he felt them, they were on there. He notices the nervous look as you wait patiently for his reaction and it makes him break into a smile. Who knew being on the same page felt so good?

He reaches your face with both of his hands to bring you back to him, this time keeping your lips on his for longer than a peck, and they feel much softer than they looked, and he was able to taste the leftover sweetness of the slice of cake you shared, he can't believe he said goodnight before doing this. He can't believe he lived a whole life before your lips.

The wind picks up and he feels you shiver once again, and he remembers that its winter and you ran out in your dress and a thin cardigan. He lets go, not before pecking your lips once more, and smiles up at you, the blush on your cheeks were his doing and he's feeling really good about that.

“Okay, for real now, goodnight.” You giggle before tightening your cardigan and running back inside.

He watches you scurry in, and he drives off, the faint feeling of your lips are as present as the permanent smile on his lips that night.

——-

“Are you sure there’s nothing more I can help you with, Mrs. L/N?” Yeonjun stands by the open door, leaning against the wall, using it as support as he fits his foot in his shoe. The table was cleared and the dishes were washed, yet he felt like he could stay longer if needed.

Yeonjun loved your family home. Everything reminded him of you, from the smell to the style to every single picture on the wall having either a call back to stories he remembers you telling him or a younger version of you in them. It made it feel like you, and it was hard to leave every time.

“You've done more than enough, sweetie. Thank you.” Your mother replies leaning to give him a tight hug and an affectionate squeeze on the cheek before heading to the living room.

“Y/N, dont forget to lock the door once youre back inside.”

“Got it!” You respond back, closing the door behind you as you both step out to the refreshing breeze of a summer night. The buzzing of the insects filled the silence as Yeonjun turned back to you.

“Thank you, sweetie.” you tease, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Oo, someone jealous~”

“Am not!”

“Its okay, baby. I won't steal your mom.” He ruffles the top of your head before leaning into your embrace.

“You wouldn't succeed anyways~” It came out muffled that he could barely understand it, making him chuckle lightly.

He knew he had to leave soon, you both had class in the morning. Yet in your warmth, it made it so hard to care about anything other than the feeling of your head in his chest.

“Dont go.” You say softly. Once again, it's like you were in his head.

“Mmm, We have class tomorrow though, and you have that exam, i'm only gonna distract you.” He hated to be the responsible one in these circumstances but you had been nervous about this class and he knew better than to fall for the temptation of staying and not allowing you to study.

“Ugh.. Please dont remind me.” You rub your face on his chest before stepping back and he looks at you with an amused face.

“Are you picking me up tomorrow?”

“Duh.”

“Okay. Can we go to that one cafe with the fluffy cheesecakes after?”

He nods before pulling on your fingers, leaning in for a kiss.

“Goodnight, Baby~” He says in between kisses.

“Night, Junie~” You turn to go, your hand being the last thing lingering on him, before you feel back. He grabs your face gently bringing you in for a second kiss.

“Goodnight, Baby~” He says again, a small smile playing on his lips as he pecks you twice.

This brings a small laugh out of you.

“Goodnight, Junie~” You drag out before turning around again, only to again feel a pull back, this time his hands slip and pull your long sleeve instead.

“Yeonjun!” You laugh out, his lips once again attaching themselves to you.

“Okay, okay, forreal goodnight” He laughs too, his hands closing in behind your head, bringing you in for what should have been the final kiss of the night. He feels your smiles in the kiss fade as he keeps you in the kiss for a bit, he can feel the soft sigh you let out and he feels dizzy from it. Yeonjun breaks the kiss, landing pecks before leaning back slightly, your head still in his hands. The warmth spreads across his face, down to his chest and he can't tell if the buzzing is coming from the insects anymore or from his heart. What he can tell, is that you're feeling it too as he watches how your half lidded eyes continue to stare at him, so full of adoration and love he almost feels shy by them.

“I love you” He whispers, watching you carefully for any sign of a reaction. He thinks he might have read the room wrong, until he watches your eyes widen and sparkle cartoonishly, a smile breaking wide on your face.

“I love you too.” He takes a moment to process your response before leaning down to touch foreheads and Yeonjun feels an explosion of emotions in him, like fireworks being set off all over his body.

“Good.” He says trying to play it off as not a big deal. But he can't play off the crack in his voice. You giggle.

“Shut up,” You push him gently and Yeonjun can't help but just stare at you, “Goodnight, Baby. I love you~” He loves the enjoyment in your eyes as you say it.

“I love you too. Good night~” And just like the night of your first date, and almost every week since it happened 6 months ago, he watches you walk towards the door.

“Okay! Goodnight! Go already!” You laugh from the door. “Text me when you're home!”

———

Yeonjun watches you from the corner of his eye at the way you run a hand through your hair, standing across from him, your arms crossed. Your parents weren't home, and they wouldn't be for the whole weekend, something that was often celebrated between the two of you, spent in each other’s arms, in each other's beds, but right now Yeonjun sat slumped on the couch. He spent the past five minutes in silence trying to figure out how to direct the conversation, but he felt like you were both losing patience with each other, and he hated the feeling.

“Y/N. Can you please just sit with me?”

He watches you stand there for a moment before walking towards him. Arguments weren’t common enough to know how to have a healthy one. Words and accusations have been thrown, and Yeonjun wants to put an end to it before it gets worse.

It started with a light stray, just a small comment from you that caught him off guard.

“You can go, I don't mind staying home.” you lean facing the island as you watch the water of the sink hit the drain, steam rising up makes you turn the faucet handle the other direction before Yeonjun puts his hands in boiling water.

“What? No, come on, it'll be fun.” he rubs your back as he stacks the dishes in the sink.

“Right, because being stuck in a corner is fun.” From the look on your face, the soft chuckle that escapes your lips, he knew you didn't mean anything provoking about it, but he couldn't help but believe there was deeper meaning behind it.

“What's that supposed to mean?” He no longer focused on the dishes.

“Huh? Nothing? I just mean like sometimes your friends' parties aren't fun. ”

“But we already said we’d go? I don't want to back out now.”

“Then go, baby. We don't both have to be there. I'm sure they won't even notice I'm not there.”

“Of course they'll notice! Chaewon and Soob are gonna be so bummed you're not there. I'm gonna be bummed you're not there”

“Jun, I really don't want to spend the one weekend having the house to myself, at someone else's house. I'm tired, I'm on my period and the last thing I want to do is drink and have the bass booming in my ears. If you really wanna go, it's fine. You should go.” You were getting frustrated, he could tell but the feeling was throwing him out on a loop.

Yeonjun felt like something was off. Have you always felt this way about the parties you’d go to? Had it had something to do with his friends? With him?

“Come on, I always go to your parties, come to mine.” It hadn't occurred to him how pushy he sounded, but the idea of leaving you home alone didn't sit right with him.

“No one asks you to go though.”

“You don't have to ask me, I do things without needing to be begged.” it hits him. He's saying the wrong things, but it's too late, because you're giving him a look of total shock.

“You don't have to beg me. I don't want to go. And even more so now that I'm being forced out of guilt.”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“It doesn't matter what you meant. It's how it came out.”

The argument only escalated from there. What started out as a simple rejection evolved to a yelling match and ended with Yeonjun slamming the door on his way out. No ‘goodnight’, no goodnight kiss, just the fall wind making it hard to walk out into the night.

Yeonjun thinks he might have been overdoing things, overestimating the meaning behind your words, but it was hard to be sure, when you always hid behind them. Yeonjun couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to it. And now leaving you alone in an empty house sent a wave of regret and sadness throughout his bones. Yeonjun hated saying goodnight to you, hated that he had to settle on kissing you, settle on the faint ghosting feeling of your lips on his before he went to bed, but preferred it over this feeling anyday and now he royally fucked it up for the night and had to suffer through it.

He wouldn't be able to even enjoy the party with the thought of you angry at him. He wouldn't be able to focus on the conversations nor enjoy the drinks with the memory of your furrowed eyebrows playing in a loop.

He only made it two blocks away before he turned back, and headed back to you. He found you in the kitchen with teary eyes and soapy foam on your hands. The water running filled the dead air around you.

When Yeonjun finally makes his presence known, you're quick to look back down.

The silence that surrounds you now, as he gets you to sit beside him, has him questioning how he can fix this.

His hand is hesitant in reaching for yours, and you move it closer to him to reassure him that it was okay to grab it. Thank god. He thought.

“I'm sorry for everything I've said,” He rubs your palm looking at you focus on your hand, “I shouldn't be forcing you to do anything you don't want to do, it's not a big deal if you miss a couple of my friends parties, we don't have to go to every single one, i'm sorry i wasn't thinking about you. I like having you there and being around me and when you hangout with my friends I feel good, like all my favorite people are in one room. I think that just made me become a little selfish.” He joins you in watching how his thumb presses into your skin. You nod.

Silence overcomes the both of you again, before you break it next.

“I'm sorry too. I don't mean to be mean, I think my words just come out that way before I can think them through and I really need to work on that. You're not selfish for wanting that, but sometimes I just get tired of going out all the time.” He feels you holding back again, not being able to voice what was bothering you.

“Is it the ‘going out’ that's really bothering you? Or might it be something else?” It dawns on him that he can just ask. The tension had been disappearing by the minute, you pulled your hand away from him and hid your face.

“I dont want to sound clingy…”

“Hey, you won't. I swear.”

You rub your hand over your face. Yeonjun hopes that the hand he places on your back soothes you at least a bit.

“Sometimes you just feel really dismissive at parties. Like yeah we showed up together and you've introduced me to your friends and they know me and they're so nice, but in the first 10 minutes, you're like gone. I just start to feel abandoned. You don't have to babysit me, it's not what I'm saying you know? It's just like I feel left out, and maybe it's on me, maybe I just have to put myself out there and put in the effort to be friends with your friends, but youre kinda like my way in ya know? I was lucky that Soobin and Chaewon are in some of my classes for the semester, and we got closer that way. But once they leave, it's so hard to get close to you or keep up with you. I'm sorry if this sounds annoying, I know its sou-”

Yeonjun was dumbfounded. How could he have made you feel that way and never noticed?

Right, because being stuck in a corner is fun. How stupid could he have possibly been.

He felt his throat closing in. He cuts off your apologetic rant.

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm so sorry I never noticed I would do that, I can't believe I didn't. You're right. I'm so sorry, y/n. Please forgive me. I hadn't realized that's what you meant. I won't be doing that ever again. I swear. Believe me.” he doesn't know what else to do other than spur out apologies.

“Its okay. Really. I guess I know you get so caught up in having fun..”

“Stop. Please don't justify it. I love you. I'm so sorry.” he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

“It's okay, thank you for listening. I love you too~” You chuckle a bit, your eyes no longer teary as they are replaced by a look of amusement.

“We're pretty good at this argument and resolution thing, no?” You say after another small moment of silence. Yeonjun laughs. The tension is gone, chests are feeling lighter and the air is no longer still around you as Yeonjun wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to rest on the cushions. He's already thinking of all the ways he can make up for his mistake.

“Definitely not, but we got time to work on it.” He kisses your head.

“It's a good start, atleast~” You laugh, leaning into his arms.

The heater turns on, and the position you're both in feels so comfortable neither of you want to move. Especially Yeonjun as he catches a glance at the clock, 11:40pm.

“So… Do I have to say ‘goodnight’ tonight?” In his head, he knows the answer. Yet, he still asks, wanting to feel reassured, feeling an invisible new boundary he wants only you to break.

“Dont be dumb.” You respond snuggling further into him and the couch. He can tell from the way you respond, that you're falling asleep, and with that thought his own eyes begin to droop.

“Oh, jun?” Barely above a whisper that Yeonjun barely catches it.

“Yeah?” With his eyes close and heavy he doesn't notice your finger raising to his forehead level before giving it a stinging flick.

“Ouch!”

“Never walk out like that again.”

—--

“Please tell me that was the last of the boxes.” You force out in a big puff of air. Summer had just started, yet the heat felt marinated into the spring and only got worse.

Yeonjun nods as he climbs the last two steps of the stairs. Curse this elevator-less building.

Yeonjun had recently moved out of the dorms into a college-assigned apartment complex. He saved money from his multiple jobs, and pulled out the biggest loan in mankind just to gain what he called the biggest privilege in all of college history: Privacy.

Soobin and Beomgyu had shed some fake tears before vowing to visit everyday, something Yeonjun did not laugh at. You, on the other hand, couldn't keep your laugh in as you watched the frown on Yeonjun’s face grow deeper as the boys pretended to console what they thought was a sad and lonely man.

“At least you guys can finally do it in peace.” Beomgyu announces as he drops the box by the corner of the empty room. He swipes the sweat off his forehead, quirking his eyebrow, earning a smack at the back of the head from Yeonjun.

“Idiot.” Soobin says, fanning himself with a random piece of flimsy paper.

“He's not wrong though…” Yeonjun whispers as he wraps his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. You smack his arm, your cheeks turning red.

After the boys helped move the mattress in, they left, not before complaining about getting kicked out so soon. Yeonjun just wanted to spend time with you, alone, in what is now the space of his own home.

“I feel used.” Beomgyu wiped a fake tear, “thrown away, even. Y/N treat him well, he no longer needs us.”

“This is so sad,” You say, patting his head, looking at Yeonjun.

“If I give you 30 bucks for dinner, will you both leave us alone?”

“Deal.”

Once they were gone, you both moved the mattress towards the center of the living area, the carpet making you both struggle and groan. Yeonjun lands face flat on the queen mattress, heaving.

“Ill order the pizza, can you get my laptop? I brought some drinks and snacks from home so we don't have to buy those.”

Yeonjun watches as you rummage through the bag filled with home goods. You had brought whatever you thought would be useful to him; soap, shampoo, towels, some dishes, canned foods, homemade dishes that were able to be frozen, anything really that could save him time and money. Yeonjun’s heart almost exploded at the sight of you carrying the pink duffle bag, smiling so wide as you excitedly showed him what you were able to snatch.

He could tell the idea of a new apartment excited you too. Earlier in the year, he had imagined himself asking you to move in with him, to maybe take that chance. He had no reason not to. You had been together for a while now, and things were getting serious with each passing day. He couldn't imagine seeing the relationship ending…ever. He had been so serious about you since day one and he could tell you saw him as the sure thing too, and when the opportunity came up, of renting his own space, it was waking up to you that was the first thought in his head. But… he was nervous. He had heard from friends that some relationships don't last the ‘living together’ stage. Those arguments about different ways of living can become bigger ones, ones that question if the pairing ever made sense. It scared him, what if he was too messy? What if you didn't like the way he had late night snacks at night, or the fact that he would stay at the dance studio for long periods of time? Most of these things you knew already, but you didn't have to deal with it really at your own house. He questioned if the fear of losing you was bigger than the want of spending every waking moment he could with you, he knew the answer but was just scared to make the realization.

“Pizza is ordered!” You plop next to Yeonjun, now on his back, on the mattress, “which one?” you hold up two drinks for him to pick, he takes one from your hand and places it nearby before nudging at your hips to lift. He places you on his stomach, your legs straddling his sides.

“You don't have curtains yet.” You whispered, red tint spreading from your face down to your neck.

He laughs, “What are you thinking in that head of yours? I just wanted to be near you.”

“Whatever! I was just reminding you!” You squeak, covering your face with your hands. He laughs again, rubbing his hands up and down from your thighs to your waist, thinking about it again. It could be like this everyday, not having to worry about roommates or parents barging in, no moments of awkwardness, no disruptions, just the look in your eyes as you stare at him in the comfortable silence that settles between the two of you.

“What do you think about a coffee table? I know you said your furnishing budget was short and I was at the thrift store the other day and they had this really nice antique…”

If you do say yes, what would it mean? Was it too soon for him to think about the next year with you? The next five? Ten? He can imagine it all. He wanted it all.

“Will you move in with me?” He says, catching you off guard.

“Huh?”

“...Moving in… would you move in with, um, with me? You don't have to, it was just like a thought-”

“You want to live with me?” Your eyes, that were practically popped out in shock as you looked down at him, softened.

“I want to do everything with you.” Yeonjun knows your face mirrors his in redness.

Your eyes water, and you try to stop yourself from smiling. “You're so cheesy…”

“I would love to.” You whisper. you're now leaning in closer, and Yeonjun, with a heart so heavy and ready to spill, feels impatient that he must meet you halfway, folding his elbows behind him to lean on. He connects your lips immediately, and his heart sighs and yours must too the way he feels you relax above him, bringing your hands to his hair, your nails raking through his scalp. He would never say this to you, in fear of maybe scaring you off, but he saw your future in this specific kiss, where you both experience moments of success, of happiness, of sadness and tragedy, but you were experiencing it together, and he couldn't imagine it with anybody else.

That night as the movie played, with no actual audience, Yeonjun felt relieved that his parting days were over. He wouldn't have to say goodnight to you, wouldn't have to detach himself from your lips, your arms, leaving him cold and wanting more. You could be the first thing he sees in the morning and the last thing he would see at night, and to him, that was all he could ever really want.

A/N: You made it! Thank you so much for giving it a chance! Its not my strongest but she my first finished baby in a long time... Please tell me your thoughts!! tell me you hate it, tell me you love it, anything im open to suggestions, tips, im a crier tho fair warning, but I won't tell you I cried (A win for you!)

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quilly72 · 3 days ago

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One thing was for sure you loved the new pill your girlfriend was on, she just switched to it today and already her mood had spiked. As soon as you got home she dragged you upstairs and gave you a moment you will never forget

Now you scurried back downstairs as you finished getting all nice and tidy it wasnt often you both were in the mood anymore so you had to make sure to take advantage of every moment even if that moment was right before her parents were about to come over for dinner.

You could hear Taylor from down in the kitchen struggling to find the clothes you had so haphazardly thrown across the room earlier. She was still moaning and trying to catch her breath from what you could hear as she started to make her way down the stairs. You started to plate the table as you heard a scream come from the entryway staircase. "Oh my Gooodd what is happening Ooo. Ooo. Oooohhh FUCK."

She moaned and groaned as you heard her shaky breaths drag in and out. You couldn't help but stare waiting for her to turn the corner and admire her.

You continued to finish up the table as you saw her finally rounding the corner a look of concern on her face. Then you finally saw what the look was for. Two reasons actually.

"They weren't that big 5 mins ago" You stammered as you looked at Taylor's considerably larger chest. "I don't know either " she shrugged I was just coming down the stairs and they just came in. Like they grew"

You stared at her as you drew closer her former shirt now appeared more like a crop top as her tits dragged it up.

You heard a knock on the door as your eyes widened with hers "ummm okay roll your skirt up so they don't see your midriff and uhh maybe they won't notice the new developments you have.

"They've known me for 20 years and you don't think they will notice my new boobs"

I don't know what else to do Taylor just try to cover them up I guess.

With that you made your way to the door and invited her parents inside. The usual conversations and pleasantries happening. Shake a hand shake another hand. Smile pretend to like her dress. Usher them inside. Usher them inside again. Pretend to laugh at insanely bad joke.

You led them to the kitchen and luckily for you Taylor had managed to find a crop top jacket to drape herself with. It definitely made it less noticeable but a quick glance from her mother definitely let everyone know that she recognized them.

You quickly sat everyone down and helped dish up supper when she asked.

"So Taylor you guys have any news for us anything exciting"

Taylor batted it down as you couldnt help but notice her new tits stretching her shirt. You could also tell she wasn't used to her new size as she kept bumping into the table or into the serving bowls and plates. You also couldn't help but notice her face starting to contort and her breathing picking up. Her voice quivering a little as she started to clench the table cloth in her hand.

"Taylor are you okay" you whispered as she tried to nod. Her eyes clenching shut as she started to moan through gritted teeth. Her body swayed back and forth as you all watched her hit her high her jaw dropping as she let out deep breaths of relief. If Taylor's orgasm In front of everyone wasnt embarrasing enough her sudden change in center of gravity was. It was almost instantaneous as you all watched her chest engorged outwards. Her body growling as it stretched out

What the fuck was that Taylor" Her mom piped up first everyone staring at her obviously larger chest. It was impossible not to notice her shoulders reddened from the bra straps digging in. Her white shirt barely covered her tits as it lifted off her body. You weren't even sure they made a cup size for how large she was now.

"Uhmm I'm so sorry I don't know what's happening its just they got bigger before you came and now they are huge and ohh gosh...fuck I think it's happeninnng.." Taylor stammered as her eyes clenched shut Her breathing picking up and getting higher in pitch by the breath. You tried to comfort her but it was useless as her eyes started to roll back. Her muscles tensing as she felt the pressure build up wave after wave. Her face twinged with pleasure as she climaxed again. You got up from your seat as her body surged out in waves of growth.

Taylor let out a scream as her body spasmed her legs slid out from under her across the table kicking her mother's chair as her parents struggled to get up. You watched as her back started to coil up higher Into the air. Raising inch by inch as she groaned and gasped for air. Her eyes widening as her body continued to reach new heights of ecstacy. Her chair groaned under her expanding ass as you noticed her skirt that formerly met her knees was now stretched barely covering her thighs and butt threatening to burst in half.

"Taylor stop this ,this Instant" Her mother cried as they pulled across the kitchen

She merely only contorted her face as her body braced and twinged with energy.

"What..do you..think..I'm trying..To DoooOOoo."

Another surge sent Taylor flying up and flailing backwards. Her chair snapping as her knees hit the bottom of the table. Her necklace now choker snapped off her neck into a array of flying jewelry. Her shoes bursting off of her As her shirt and skirt tore off her expanding body. You had to dodge as she failed backwards. Her body slamming the ground as you watched her grow against the ground. She was massive. Easily 8 9 ft tall. Her breasts the size of basketballs.

You didn't stay to watch as she started to orgasm again. Her body surging foot after foot now. Her cries growing in pitch and speed as her body rose up higher and higher. Her feet knocking the table off its legs her body scattering broken fragments of wood across the ground. You gathered her parents as you watched Taylor's head press against the kitchen island. The wood groaning as her head braced and tried to dislodge it. Her feet and legs quickly sliding the length of the dining room.

"Time to go I don't think it's stopping" you muttered

Taylor tried to stop you in her fear but her massive body was too big too control. Her movements stunted especially as she orgasmed again and again. Twitching and losing control of her muscles again and again.

You ran for the front door as you heard Taylor behind scream and holler. The sound of wood snapping as you figured the kitchen island finally gave way. You looked back as you ushered her parents out the door to see taylor bare legs tremble or from the kitchen her knees shaking and buckling as they stretched onto the living room.

Gathering your senses you ran out into the driveway as on the inside you heard the furniture and walls start to give away. A crack there a thunder there. The sound of glass blowing out as Taylor's screams of ecstacy grew. You backed up to the street as the house shook. Suddenly a giant drop being heard as her arm came tearing out the side of the house crumbling your fence to the ground. Another tear and two legs burst down the other end and into your neighbors yard. You watched in terror as her head bobbed up thru the attic roof as she finally came down from her high.. the house crumbling around her as she gave off an awkward smile.

Sorry mom. As she covered herself up with the wreckage of your old house.

#giantess growth #gtsgrowth #giantess

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bellyaz · 3 days ago

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1,000mgs

“Thanks, Ky.” Jade huffed, thanking her good friend/RA who held the door open for her as she walked waddled into her dorms with bags of food.

She barely got her reply out. Her mind was occupied with an edible that she described as “ain’t shit” about an hour ago and trying to balance the weight of her bags.

“Fasho.” He replied. “You clearly bouta eat good.” He joked.

She let out a quick laugh to hide her embarrassment.

She hadn’t realized how much she ordered. After her edible hit, she was mindlessly scrolling through Door Dash and adding whatever looked good to her cart.

“You know they be putting little ass orders in big ass bags.” She said, trying to deflect.

He gave her a knowing look and nodded.

“You need some help?” He asked right before she turned the corner.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks tho.”

“Ight. Don’t forget room checks later!” He shouted as she scurried onto the elevator.

The walk to her room felt like forever. Her stomach was growling and she felt positively buzzed. She finally got in her room and placed her meals on the bed. She caught a glimpse of herself in her full body mirror.

“Mccht.” She sucked her teeth as she realized the bottom of her stomach was poking out of her hoodie and her shorts had rolled up.

A wave of embarrassment washed over her as she examined her new frame. She looked a whole lot different two years ago compared to now.

She was never skinny, but she stayed in shape. She even played intramural volleyball her freshman year. But she got lazy during that summer.

Now here she was, 6 months and 40 pounds later doing her Friday night routine.

Getting high, ordering a fuck load of food, then gorging herself.

She pulled her hoodie & shirt, (which recently stopped covering the underside of her belly) up so her stomach could be exposed. Her bottom lip was immediately tucked between her teeth as if it were an involuntary reflex. She used her middle and ring finger to jiggle the bottom of her belly before completely stripping her hoodie off and pulling her shirt that clung to her skin down.

She put her headphones on before tearing the food bags open and mindlessly shoving fries in her mouth while inspecting the rest of her orders.

She placed her feast in neat piles:

4 chicken sandwiches

12 boneless wings (easier to eat)

1 basket of fries

1 large mac and cheese

8 ranch dipping sauces

1 large Diet Coke (for balance of course), no ice

1 pint of Milk & Cookies ice cream

1 box of white cheddar Cheez it’s

She pouted as she reached into the empty fry container, not realizing she’d finished before she even got to sit down.

Placing her chair in front of her mirror, she sat down and spread her legs to make room for her stomach which already felt a little heavier.

She started with a sandwich. Her eyes rolled back as she took the biggest bite she could. The flavors were enhanced because of her inebriated state.

“Mmm,” a satisfied moan slipped out of her mouth.

She reached for a wing as she tried to rationalize her purchase.

The sandwiches were 2 for 1, I literally had to get them with the meal deal. She thought. And I only eat this crazy once a week. I deserve it.

She gulped down a quarter of her drink and let out a belch.

She giggled and excused herself before sticking her finger in her bellybutton.

I’ll save the two other sandwiches for tomorrow.

She finished off her sandwich whilst mindlessly scrolling through her social media before reaching for another one.

She cracked open one of the dipping sauces and poured it over her next bite. Another eye roll, moan, and a tap to the belly followed.

This process repeated itself until the second sandwich disappeared.

She pulled at the bottom of her shirt & the band of her bra, which was seemingly getting tighter and more uncomfortable with each fattening swallow.

She debated getting up to take it off but her greed overpowered this thought.

She cracked open the lid on the Mac and cheese before licking up a bite with her tongue. She chewed as she looked for a utensil in the bag but realized there were none.

“Always forgetting somethin’.” She whispered, annoyed.

She put the container up to her mouth and let gravity do the work until a mouthful of the greasy, gooey, fatty substance plopped her mouth. She poured some ranch directly into her mouth then put the rest on top of the remaining Mac & Cheese and decided she would finish it later when she got a utensil of her own.

Her focus was back on the wings. She plopped one into her mouth while still trying to take down the Mac and cheese.

“Fuck.” She exhaled between labored breaths, taking a break from chewing.

She placed her hand under her stomach for support. She suckef her fingers clean on the other hand before grabbing her gut from the side.

She whined, pouted, and squirmed at the sight in front of her. She looked like the definition of gluttony.

Her shirt was a little stained from the constant fondling, she could see the indent of the band of her bra was engulfed by her back rolls through her shirt, her shorts were basically hidden beneath her gut, and she was bloated beyond recognition.

This definitely wasn’t the biggest she’d looked, but it had been a while since she’d gone this far.

As she finally swallowed her food, she picked up her drink once again.

She pulled the band of her shorts over her gut and pulled her shirt down.

She turned to the side, lifted up her boobs with her arm, and started chugging.

She watched as her belly slowly but surely started poking out of her clothes. Every time she wanted to stop, she would simply look down and see more skin, and it gave her the push she needed to keep going.

Finally, she heard the rattle of the empty cup and threw it down before whining and burping uncontrollably.

She finally stood up to take her bra off but was taken aback by how much her gut weighed her down and how much of her skin was showing.

She hissed, finally begging to feel the effects of everything that was packed in her gut so far.

She couldn’t help but to slap, poke, and prod at her gut.

She pulled her shirt down but it bounced right back into place, exposing a good portion of her lower belly.

“Oh my god-“ she dragged before stuffing her finger into her bellybutton then shaking her distended gut.

She grabbed the ice cream that was partially melted and chugged it down whilst continuing her motion.

The creamy fattening treat coated her throat and started dripping down her chin a little.

She grabbed onto her belly as she continued taking gulps of the sweet treat.

She was so entranced in herself the she barely had time to react to the knock on her door.

“RA, swiping in.”

#fat belly #black feedism #ebony feedee #feedee encouragement #gaining weight on purpose #wg encouragement #wg story #stuffed feedee #feedee belly #weed intox #feeding kink #gaining fat #belly gainer #feedee girl #fat girls #fatty #feederist

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bogor-o · 3 days ago

Note

Please share the rambles about how Lana eventually kills Ovidia? Pretty please?

ORGEHRTGRT i love that pretty please oerghag u got it lemme gather my garbled thoughts,,,

im super wishy-washy on whether i want that to commit to that being the end, but it certain is an end. Because theres a build up that leads into lana being ovidias end that i feel needs to be mentioned first

as i think more on ovidia as a person and their history, a lot of it shapes their perception on a perfect life including a "perfect" family and i think they end up subconsciously projecting a lot of it onto Lana and she does try to mold herself into this image of a perfect child for her Baba

but because ovidia isnt being truthful about even to themself about why they do what they "have to" whether its leading their followers the way they with a lot of manipulation and making them believe in this image of a perfect Mother and family that they've carefully curated, or even how they specifically talk to and treat their children and why there is almost a clear sense of favoritism that is kind of always there

this denial is also the reason their ascension is slow and unpleasant, because a process that would not normally take more than maybe a century or two to even begin is being stretched out because theyre actively fighting the crown against it. it isnt apart of their plan, of ovidias plan. so any changes that come from ascending are painful and slow and its entirely because ovidia is so deep in denial of their true self

they dont want to think theyre playing favorites, and its not obvious to anyone but Narinder at first that they view the kids very differently from each other and while hes tries to talk about it ovidia just has a way of icing him out because they just flat out will not admit it.

and this is the point i realized that there are two diverging paths for them, and if they accept and realize where it comes from and why theyre doing this they have the capacity to at least start to mend the damage theyve made which at that point wouldnt be until Lana is already an older child (like 10-12)

or they never address it and never change, they stagnate in their ability to ascend and unbeknownst to them, the crown had always taken a liking to Lana and her innate interest in death and murder, and naturally has been putting thoughts into that childs head for longer than ovidia would have guessed

(wip of something i might finish eventually but u kno, just 2 emphasize that lana adores the crown)

and it wouldnt be until lana is older, and is acknowledged by her baba to be a grown and capable person that its basically the final nail in the coffin. Lanas mental check list is finished for the developmental part of her own life, now all thats left is to become an usurper, just like their idol!

because shes always wanted to be just like Mother.

the method of murder would involve the years of honing in all the inherited abilities that come with being the kid of a god, but them still being a god it'd be hard wouldnt it? not if the crown is so willing to betray its master, and when its got a guaranteed new head to sit on its not that hard to imagine itd turn coat and reveal the secret to killing a god huh

#botalks #cotl mother au #this is like all over the place to me and i feel like im so bad at articulating my thoughts esp when im not married to the ideas entirely #but this is abt as far as i am orihdgbvtreoibhsr

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anzynai · 3 days ago

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Nothing Special

Scaramouche & Lumine (Genshin)

a/n: first fic of the year so i couldnt start it off with just anything. happy birthday scara!!! ur like my second favorite character and i surprisingly havent written for you that much (i know right?? 💔💔) anyways, he might be ooc since i dont write for him a lot but i hope its not too bad. disregard any typos you might see as well. someone needs to tickle him BAD. this was supposed to be posted later today but im impatient so youre welcome i guess. ANYWAYYYY i hope u guys enjoy <33333

summary: it’s scara’s birthday. tickles ensue.

wordcount: 1.5k

——

Scaramouche’s birthday had never been anything special to him. It was nothing but another day of the year. He couldn’t count how many of them he spent crying or alone. Or both.

Eventually, he became used to being alone. Instead of feeling sad or upset, he felt nothing.

He sat against the tree, reading a book he had gotten from the library at the Akademiya. He was barely a quarter in when a small bird flew atop of it, lightly pecking at his finger.

He stopped. Blinked.

“..Hello,” He muttered. The bird looked at him, chirping in response.

It hopped from the book to his wrist, its wings fluttering as it continued up his arm. Scara almost couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his face as the bird finally perched on his shoulder, leaning against his neck.

“I suppose you can stay here. As long as you let me finish reading this,” He said to the bird. Again, another chirp, as if it actually understood.

He looked back at his book, only getting about two words in when..

“Oh, there you are!” He heard a voice calling out to him. As he was in the middle of nowhere, it was likely him who was being called. He looked to his right and lo and behold, it was the traveler walking towards him with a blue and green decorative box in her hands.

“..Hi,” Scara, the man of many words, said.

“Hi,” Lumine giggled, her expression bright as she walked up to the other. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Oh, then you must have really needed me,” Scara replied.

Without saying anything, Lumine handed him the box in her hands. It didn’t take a genius to assume what it was. “A gift?”

“Happy birthday, Scara!” Lumine exclaimed, clapping along to her words.

Scara ignored the flutter in his chest, heart warmed by the gesture, but he kept his face straight and controlled. Sometimes, he felt as though the traveller could tell what he was feeling because she tended to notice even the smallest cues.

Instead of focusing on that, he focused on pulling the ribbon from the gift, pulling open the box.

From inside it, he pulled out a small bag of the only candy he really had ever liked. Taking a curious glance at Lumine, he could notice how it looked like it pained even her to give him black licorice. For the sake of his birthday, she stayed silent. It was an amusing sight, perhaps even better than the candy itself, Scara thought to himself.

Inside, there was also a small stuffed doll that resembled him too much to be a coincidence. “Is this.. me?”

“Yeah, it was custom-made by me and a few others. What do you think?”

He got the urge to feel for the other doll he has in his pocket, so he does. He took it out, comparing the two.

“Now your doll has a playmate,” Lumine giggled to herself. It sounds childish, like being gifted a doll.

And yet, he found he liked it quite a bit. His lip quirked up just slightly, but Lumine caught the action anyway, if the gleam in her eyes had anything to say.

As if it was excited, the bird chirped gleefully in his ear, nuzzling and poking at his neck. “H-heheey! You stop that,” Scara gasped, scrunching his neck.

“You’re ticklish?” Lumine asked, cupping her hands over her mouth and suddenly, he felt a bit embarrassed.

“…Not at all,” He answered, lying.

“Really?” She tilted her head, staying silent for a moment that lingered too long to be anything but suspicious. Then a second later, she had this scary looking smirk that Scara found he didn’t particularly know where this was going. “So you won’t laugh or anything if I do this?”

The ‘this’ in question was Lumine quickly reaching out to grab his sides before he could stop her, squeezing gently. He flinched, unprepared and a blush arose on his pale skin.

“Lumine—“

“Ah, you lied,” Lumine tutted. “Birthday or not, don’t you think you deserve some form of punishment?”

Where was the almost too kind Lumine and who replaced her?

“Don’t you d-AHAHARE— stohop!” Scara felt his sides being kneading into some more, sensitive tingles spreading throughout his body unbearably. It was a feeling that was once foreign to him, but has since found himself quite found in these past months since meeting Nahida and a few others who insisted on bothering him each time they crossed paths. He hated to say that even then, he quite enjoyed their presence. He never realized how nice it was not being alone.

“You’re so cute! Who’d have thought you’d be so ticklish?” Lumine cooed, in a way where he couldn’t tell if she was teasing or didn’t realize the effect of her words. Her quick and nimble fingers found his ribs, lightly grazing and tracing over each rib. Like a piano, his laughter rose the higher she got. The bird, seemingly encouraged, began pecking gently against his neck again, causing him to scrunch up more, bringing his knees up to himself.

He felt the urge to kick out, but resisted with all his might, not particularly wanting to hurt Lumine or the bird.

“S-stohohop thihihis..!” He sputtered, trying to bite his lip to conceal his laughter, which apparently had the success rate of 0% if the fact that there was still laughter pouring from his lips was anything to go by.

“Should I give you some mercy for your birthday?”

“Luhuhumine! Y-you…!” Scara could barely say anything when she started digging into his underarms, a spot that he hadn’t known was so sensitive until recently.

“Yes? No? I need an answer,” Lumine sighed, slowly and dramatic. Scara wanted to roll his eyes, but he was a bit too distracted to pull off the action effectively.

He curled in on himself, his arms clamped to his sides, but Lumine was always stronger than she appeared, able to tickle him anyway. He felt much weaker by the tickling, which he was sure also helped give her the advantage.

“O-ohohokay, yehehes! Nohoho mohohore!” Scara shouted, at last, feeling overwhelmed by the ticklish sensations. Lumine relented, giggling proudly at herself. The bird continued pecking softly at his neck for a few more seconds, residual giggles falling from the wanderer’s lips. Eventually, it hopped onto his cupped hands.

“That was fun,” She admitted. “I don’t get to tickle people often, but I like making them laugh,” She added, with a sort-of melancholic look in her eye. Scara didn’t ask, getting the sense that she didn’t want to talk about it.

“For you, maybe,” He replied, to keep up appearances, but a part of him was already craving more.

“Now come on,” She stood, holding out her hand for him to grab. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” He asked, because he didn’t realize he was supposed to be anywhere.

“I’m not letting you spend your birthday alone—“ The bird chirped at that. “Okay, mostly alone, with your nose in a book. I’m taking you out to eat. My treat.” She insisted, flexing her fingers to urge him to grab her hand. This time, he took it.

He walked with her to a restaurant that he had always seen, but had always walked past. The second the doors opened, he squinted his eyes at the darkness.

“Are you sure this place is—“

“Surprise!” Multiple voices shouted out at once and the light flickered on. Confetti shot into the air, popping loudly.

Adjusting to the light, he saw that there were more people than he thought, all of them which he recognized as people he had, “against his will” he often claimed, became quite acquainted with.

Sethos. Nahida. Paimon. Tighnari and Cyno, as well as Kaveh and Alhaitham, the two pairs seemingly a package deal at gatherings like this. There was also Nilou and Collei. Even though he would never admit it, he had grew quite fond of each of them, getting along with him much better than he thought he was capable of.

“Happy birthday!” each of them congratulated him, and he mumbled his thanks in a bit of a daze. The tips of his ears were hot and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it.

“How are you feeling?” Lumine smiled next to him, as everyone chatted with one another. He heard Kaveh and Alhaitham bickering with each other as Nilou giggled at the sight. Collei and Sethos seemed to be engaged in conversation as well and Tighnari seemed to be miserable as Cyno tried to tell everyone bad joke after bad joke.

He grumbled. “There’s quite a bit of people here,” He replied. Lumine turned to look at him. “But I guess company like this isn’t so bad once in a while. So.. thank you.” He admitted, feeling himself turn a way, feeling a bit flustered as he fidgeted with his doll in his pocket.

Lumine chuckled beside him.

Thank you. He thought to himself. Maybe my birthday can be something special if I get to spend it with all of you.

#tickling #tickle fic #genshin impact #genshin tickling #scaramouche #wanderer #lumine #lee!scaramouche #ticklish!scaramouche #ler!lumine #birthday fic #jai’s fic

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moontheoretist · 1 day ago

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The hints were always there

I'm still playing through the Veilguard, but when it comes to the lore and possible retcons I feel like I have a vastly different stance than other people. I saw people being displeased and saying that DAV did ignore the canon or devs forgot about the established canon (which may have happened with so many revisions to this game, not gonna lie), but to me it's a case by case basis and so far I have no complaints (but admittedly I didn't finish the game yet, so it may still change).

For example: the entire thing with changed properties of the Blight is a sign that rules of the Blight within the world also changed. The game goes about it roughtly like this "long time ago Blight was even more nasty and bad than it's now, then Solas sealed it in the Fade that got separated from the mortal world, so when the Magisters entered the Black City and released some of it, it entered a vastly different world where there were no Fade and no Elven Gods". Which to me implies that the state of the world post-Veil and the fact that the Elven Gods were no longer in it affected the Blight. The world in which the Blight was born was long gone so it adapted accordingly. It became more passive despite still being operational, and got linked to the presence of the Archdemons (i.e. Blight exists, but doesn't happen on the larger scale unless there is a blighted Old God leading the charge (except of course underground where dwarves are battling it constantly). It found new ways to create the Darkspawn etc. because it was forced to do so to continue operating despite being cut from the source of its power.

Therefore it's not weird to me that all of the possible cures to the taint / Blight / the Calling talked about in the previous games / media aren't applicable in Veilguard anymore. Ofc they aren't. Blight is no longer a sickness in state of semi-active dormancy. It's no longer passive as it used to be. It's at full "fuck remission, imma strike again" stage doing whatever the hell it wants. You can't cure it with the old methods you knew anymore. You have to first improve the cures you found before in order to have a shot or beat the stronger virus now at all. So expecting all this old lore to be somehow relevant still seems excessive. Albeit I wouldn't say no to the game actually openly saying "we tried all those methods and each failed, this new Blight can't be cured by them".

TBF it seems that the hint that Elven Gods were always connected to the Blight was right there since the very beginning in DA: Origins already, otherwise the Old Gods wouldn't be so important for the Blights to happen. We just simply didn't know that the Old Gods and Evanuris were connected, even though for years we theorised they were connected in some way, if not one and the same. To my knowledge nobody ever proposed an idea that the Old Gods were basically glorified pets / war hounds for the tyranical elven gods. We were right tho that they were one and the same, as the dragons were their connection - speakers for the imprisoned Elven Gods.

In Veilguard it's very much implied during Solas' memories that all of the new Darkspawn we meet in DAV are in fact not new but just old. They simply had no way of existing without Fade World and the Elven Gods in the world, but now with the Veil weakening and two of the Elven Gods released upon this world via a powerful magical ritual that possibly weakened the Veil even more, Blight could finally become active in a way it wasn't for thousands of years. The same logic was also applied to elven artifacts that Veil Jumpers are dealing with in Arlathan forest. The ritual that Solas did and the releasing of the Elven Gods, it all affected the world in ways nobody knew it could before. Nobody knew how important or connected to the world Gods were or how powerful they truly were. As primordial spirits turned first people of the elven kind, they have far more intrinsic connection to and understanding of the world than any other race, except the dwarves so far (as dwarves turned out to truly be the children of the Titans that were actually the first inhabitants of Thedas as far as we know now). We don't know yet how humans and the Qunari factor in this (albeit I have some theories about the Qunari - in short they could have been created as soldiers / slaves that were supposed to be immune to the Blight thanks to the dragon blood they inherited, but it turned out they weren't and hence why they're referred to as a "mistake" or "beast of strange blood" with a "blood engorged with decay" (Corypheus) or having a "blood that doesn't belong to their people" (Kieran)) but it's undeniably true that elves and dwarves are connected to the world of Thedas in ways breaching human understanding. So it's not weird that world went wack when just two of the Elven Gods came back on top on Veil weakening and Titans already waking up in Inquisition.

I know what you will all say. "But what about Solas or Mythal?" Mythal doesn't count, because she never managed to get back her true form and kept existing in a state that is very similar to Anders' case of spirit + human merging. Solas doesn't count as he was asleep for thousands of years and when he woke up he was not even able to use any of the artifacts due to losing his powers (hence why he needed to consume Mythal's essence / soul). On top on that he also wasn't Blighted. He only counts as far as his ritual goes because it did wack to the world. (It fortunately didn't release more Blight, but did use shitton of magic that must have impacted the world where Veil was weakening all over already).

Not to mention how many things suddenly make sense.

Mirror in Mahariel's Origins being Blighted and Tamlen seeing a "great blackness" in it confirms that Ghilan'nain was connected to the Blight, as it was her mirror that Tamlen and Mahariel find - in DA2 it specifically has a symbol of a Halla on it to highlight it.

Dwarves not having dreams and being the only race that can't perform magic but also being able to perform it when they're born as Genlock Emissaries, mages in general getting magic power from the World of Dreams but when they're made tranquil loosing that ability and their dreams with it as well as the elves becoming magicless in the world where dreams and reality no longer coexist is all an expression and a result of Blight being created by the actions of the elves in the Elven-Dwarven war and by the creation of the Veil afterwards. (Like seriously it never struck me so much as it did when I played DAV - before I was like "oh yeah magic comes from the Fade" completely forgeting it's the dream realm that souls visit in dreams and go to after death).

The fact that the Blight song is always driving the Darkspawn to seek the closest Old God in order to blight it and take charge of the army of Darkspawn that otherwise is aimless without anyone to lead it. Blight probably designated them due to their link to the Elven Gods and used them as proxy in place of the missing gods because it was already accustomed to being used by Evanuris in their wars, hence why Darkspawn need Archdemon for the Blight to happen - they can't invade the surface without a commander.

There is probably more of those stuff.

The more I keep thinking about it the more I feel like this:

It was all just THERE. All. This. Time. In plain fucking sight. But we didn't get it, because we lacked the necessary contexts to get it all!

We thought that the Blight was only connected to the Titans, but we also knew before that the Elven Gods were possibly blighted thanks to what happened to Corypheus and other Magisters Sidereal. We just didn't connect the dots that Blight may albo have been used by the Elven Gods in similar way Corypheus used it. Hell, it's so ironic that in some theories we considered a Blight an immune system reaction of the body to the invading viruses and now it turned out that the Elven Gods - the ones that were considered the first invaders by the Titans, became their tool to spread the Blight (even tho they think they lead it as all powerful rulers it's very much possible they're just useful idiots). It doesn't matter that the Evanuris were the ones who actually created the Blight while seeking more power (via Titans' souls), what matters is that it was all connected and Blight was punishment meant for THEM.

The fact is they destroyed their own Empire with this blighted power, no matter how much they gloat about how powerful they've become.

No matter what they say, Titans' dreams have already won.

#seriously it never crossed my mind that Evanuris would have pet dragons Cerberus style #dragon age #dragon age meta #dragon age lore #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age veilguard spoilers #dav #dav spoilers #datv #datv spoilers #da4 #da4 spoilers #dragon age 2 #da2 #dragon age inquisition #dai

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darkbluekies · 2 days ago

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Do you want to hear one thing i want to do to get my mind off stress?

My first every real book series was started when I was around 11 and it got to twelve books, divided into three seasons. It was complex, disturbing and genuinly fantastic (for a child) and i still love it. I adored my main character. I even painted my room to match hers. But the storyline is more fantasy/scifi than what I like now, so i want to try to rewrite it again. I want to bring back my favorite story but in my style I have today. It's thanks to this story that I actually developed such a big love for writing.

It's a story about trying to find a place to fit in when you're not like others, to find a safe place where you can live safely in a world where there are people who wants you captured and experimented on for something you're born with, somethign extraordinary. A story where the characters aren't sure if they're human enough to fit in. It's a tragic story full of betrayal, isolation, loss and fear. And murder (by E).

I talked about Edmund’s evolution a few days ago and I decided to make a new mood board for this character, to see how this character had evolved. I present to you, one done sometime before 2020 (i dont remember when but it wasn't when i started the original story) and one done 2025 because it reminded me that people will not see the evolution to the final product in a published work, only the finished product. Not like you do on tumblr, where you see from start to finish over the years.

And then how the mood for the story was in the very beginning, and what i want it to be in this new 2025 version. It's interesting, I think, to see how it has/will mature and still staying in the same vibe.

This girl is a weapon, figuratively and literally lmao. She, along with her twin, are not like others people. And among them, one is passive and one is aggressive. E's an apathic murderer who has never been taught emotions, someone who will do anything to get her freedom and protect herself and her twinsister.

To finish this nonsense ramble post, here you can have a little drawing of the main characters i made in my og books when I was just a child. Master artist here

Wish me luck in finally doing this story again😅 i really hope I get to show you it someday, published. I don’t know why I made this post but you know me, I like talking about my stories.

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frog-necromancer · 2 days ago

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Betting on a Losing Dog

Masterlist

Chapter 1: A Ghost from the Past

Pairing: Logan/fem!Reader

Hey friends! <3 I've been working on this for a while now and even though it's not quite finished yet , I would like to share the first chapter with you! Comments and likes are highly appreciated! Hope you like it!

Summary: Logan is confronted with a ghost from his past, a ghost that haunts him to this very day.

The story of Logan and F/N after the Westchester Incident, follows the plot of Logan.

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Tags:

#drug abuse #swearing #angst #anger issues #main character death (it’s Logan sorry babes) #smut #alcohol abuse #fluff #drug addiction #graphic description of violence #heavy angst #biting #thigh riding #oral (f receiving) #p in v sex #unprotected sex (wrap it up) #kissing #skin picking #graphic description of injuries #attempt at humor #spending time as a family #intrusive thoughts #fighting #hurt no comfort (maybe a little comfort) #found family #marriage!?!! #self harm (skin picking) #throwing up #self destructive behavior and tendencies #depression #smoking #references to Christianity and religion #video game references #road trip

Playlist:

F/N- first name

L/N- last name

E/C- eye color

H/C- hair color

S/C- skin color

F/C- favorite color

Mutation: Fear manipulation - trapping people in their nightmares, showing them their deepest darkest fears as well as possession and energy draining through touch.

Chapter: 1 / 6

A Ghost from the Past

A bell rang. The pungent smell of cheap plastic and cleaning products filled the air as Logan stepped into the small supermarket. The lady on the radio was babbling about the incident at the casino a day prior, to his relief it was promptly shut off, switched to some pop music.

Flickering neon lights burned in his tired, bloodshot eyes, a stark contrast to the darkness outside. He glanced at Laura who seemed unimpressed, albeit a little grumpy. The cramped shelves were filled with everything one could want, from groceries to household goods to dog fashion. Whoever was supposed to buy that here.

Logan paused, his brows pulled into a frown. There was something familiar between the biting smells, a fragrance he hadn't smelled in years.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the resurfacing memories, it was probably nothing. Or maybe, just maybe he was finally losing his mind.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see the backroom of the small shop, the door slightly open. He could make out the silhouette of who he assumed was the cashier, throwing something into her mouth that was definitely not Tictacs, before disappearing from his view.

The faster they got out of here, the better, this place was a shithole and they had no time to spare. “Laura. We're here for food. Nothing else. Chuck is waiting for us in the car.”, his voice was stern and left no room for arguments, but he knew that if the girl really wanted something, she would take it or throw a tantrum trying. That was the last thing he needed right now.

Laura disappeared between the shelves and Logan hoped that she wouldn't get them in trouble this time. They did not need any more complications at the moment.

“That's it. I've told you a million times to not pop pills while you're working.” That must be the shopkeeper, his angry voice came from somewhere within the backroom. “I’m sorry sir it won't happen again” Logan froze, that voice…it reminded him of someone. Of her. But it couldn't be. He must be hearing things now too. “No, I’ve given you plenty of second chances. Finish your shift and don't come back tomorrow.” The poor cashier was probably just trying to get through the day, but Logan had no time for compassion right now. They had to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Logan shook his head, grabbing two sandwiches, a large bottle of Jack Daniel’s that would last him a couple of days as well as some fruit juice for Laura. Apple or something.

Finally said girl emerged from behind one of the stuffed shelves “Did you get something to eat?” Laura held up a bag of potato chips and a coke, Logan frowned, he didn't even have the energy to shake his head: “No. Absolutely not, that does not count as a meal” He groaned, rubbing his face in annoyance. “Get something different.” Laura glared up at him, marching back to find something else, hopefully something with a little more nutritional value than a bag of fatty potato chips (He's trying to be a good paternal figure or whatever).

He began to put their stuff on the slightly dirty counter, ringing the little bell to inform the cashier (or should he say ex-cashier) that he wanted to pay. “One second” there was that voice again, maybe his ears were giving up on him or maybe, just maybe the alcohol was finally going to his head.

Logan was counting his money, hoping it would be enough. The cashier appeared in his peripheral vision, hammering something into the checkout, before beginning to scan his stuff. Each beep made Logan flinch internally, this wasn't helping the hangover he was currently nursing at all.

“Laura will you hurry-” he barked, as he finally looked up at the cashier. when he saw her face, he froze, his voice betraying him.

Was he seeing ghosts now? And of all the people he had lost…her? Shit. This couldn't be. He must have drunk too much. This had to be an alcohol induced hallucination. Surely.

He blinked a couple of times. And still. There she was. His F/N. His Ghost.

“We call her Ghost” Logan’s lips formed a frown, he shifted on the leather couch taking a big swig from his beer: “Why? Is she a little scary or something?” Kurt shook his head, his dark blue lips pulled downwards: “Nein- I mean ja but… she's more than a little scary she’s super-duper scary” Logan huffed, his patience wearing thin tonight as he took another gulp of his cold beverage.

"Well spill it, elf. What's so scary about her?” he grunted, flexing his free hand. Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the blue mutant was a little tipsy: “She can manipulate fear and possess people… drain some of their life force as well…she can trap people in their worst nightmares until they lose their minds” Logan's eyes widened the tiniest bit, he was silent for a moment, contemplating his reply. He didn't know this ‘Ghost’ and yet he felt bad for her: “That…sounds hella depressing.” he finally mumbled. Kurt nodded, tail raising his own beer to his mouth to take a sip: “That's why she rarely uses it. Just enough to be able to control it…”

She hadn't changed all that much, her mutation slowed down her aging if she consumed the energy of others and yet she looked a little older. But if she looked older, then he looked like a damn fossil. (A damn sexy fossil grrrr)

Her hair was longer than he remembered, but still a beautiful H/C. Framing her face so nicely. Her E/C eyes were more tired, but she looked just as beautiful as on the day when-

“Fuck. Logan?” She was the first to speak, her E/C eyes wide, pupils dilated and filled with surprise and recognition. His thoughts went back to when he'd seen her popping those pills in the back. She never changed and it hurt. “Hey”, his voice was more breathless than he'd liked, rougher and tired. They both were silent for a moment, the gentle humming of the neon lights filled the tense air. The memory of their last meeting flickered into his mind, when they’d last seen each other.

“Logan- I- We- I can't do this anymore”, F/N was trying to stay calm, a desperate edge to her voice as she paced through the dimly lit kitchen of the X mansion, frustration written all over her face. Logan looked up from his beer in irritation: “Do what?” he asked gruffly. F/N stopped right in front of him, her expression serious, brows pulled into a frown as if she couldn't believe that he even had to ask: “Pretend like everything's okay…”

Logan scoffed, taking a long drink from his beer, before setting it down on the table with an unnecessary loud clunk: “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart. Are you high again?” He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth, he knew he had overstepped, but there was no going back now.

Well, there was but he was too much of a coward to apologize.

F/N seemed a little taken aback, but she caught herself: “Logan don't give me that.” Her frustration grew but her voice stayed steady: “Something’s wrong with Charles and you know it. Something has to be done.”

Another sip of beer, Logan scoffed: “You're being delusional.” He should stop drinking, he knew it. He should apologize to her right fucking now. But he didn't have it in himself. It would mean that he had to admit that Charles was unwell. They would have to address the problem that had been building up for months.

A look of hurt crossed her face, he hated seeing her like this: “Logan I'm fucking serious.” She groaned, running her hand over her face, it was obvious that this was going nowhere: “I'm going out. I'll be back late.” Logan nodded, his expression stern and his voice rough, but F/N recognized the soft edge that was only reserved for her: “I’ll leave the light on.”

Even when they were fighting, he couldn't help but worry about her.

“Bye, Logan. Love you.”

She had said it so softly, so carefully but he could feel that she was genuine. He had wanted to return the words. But he was a stubborn asshole. And a Coward.

He watched her go in silence, not saying another word.

They had fought. He knew he should have listened to her back then. Not drown his trouble in alcohol.

And the worst part was that he hadn’t even said goodbye.

He hadn't told her that he loved her.

Logan was about to speak when Laura wordlessly (as always) slapped a sandwich and a bag of radioactive-looking blue candy on the counter. Poor F/N seemed even more confused now, her eyes flickering between him and the girl wearing a unicorn shirt and colorful sunglasses pushed up on her head between her black hair (and owning it). In hopes of overcoming the awkwardness she continued to scan their stuff, her E/C eyes focused on the task, instead of him.

“I- I thought you were dead…” Logan finally got out, a sadness to his voice that told the story of a broken heart.

F/N glanced up from the bottle of liquor she was scanning, her brows pulled into a small frown. “Thought the same about you…”, her voice was just as soft as he'd remembered, but far more tired. “Heh…I guess everything got a bit chaotic after…” He didn't need to finish his sentence, how could she forget? “Yeah…I guess.”

Silence again, only interrupted by the beeping of the counter. “So…is she…”

Logan knew what she meant, she didn't need to finish her question. She probably thought he had moved on. But he would never. He couldn't. “This is Laura.”, He quickly replied, before continuing: “Uhm she's technically my daughter but I did not father her…she was an illegal experiment.” With a soft nod, F/N looked down at Laura, her eyes gentle and understanding: “Hey Laura” Logan scratched his salt and pepper beard, an awkward expression on his face: “She doesn't talk.”

F/N was still looking at Laura with a small yet warm smile on her pretty lips, almost like she recognized him in her: “I see. Well nice to meet you, Laura” Logan almost expected Laura to not react at all, like she did most times. But then the girl nodded softly, big brown eyes looking at F/N. Logan's heart hurt.

The obnoxious beeping of the cash register filled the stuffy air. Logan sighed: “Listen, do you maybe know a motel or something around here, where we could spend the night? I don't want Laura and Charles to sleep in the car again.” F/N frowned softly, surprise washing over her face yet again: “Wait- Charles? He's alive?” Logan nodded, leaning against the counter: “He sure as hell is…but he's not been doing well. Age is taking a real number on him.”

He half expected a comment about his own age, but it never came. F/N sighed softly pushing a few strands of H/C hair behind her ear, it was more than clear that they were struggling, that they needed help. If this little girl really was an illegal experiment, they probably were in some deep trouble.

“The next motel is about two hours away, I’m afraid.” Logan groaned quietly, rubbing his temple. F/N paused, she seemed to be considering something, her eyes finding his: “I don't live far from here. It's not much but I got a pull-out couch and a spare mattress.” she offered, voice careful as if she was unsure of this proposition herself.

Logan was reluctant to accept, he hadn't seen her in years and wanted to spend time with her but at the same time he didn't want to put her in danger or even be a bother. He had been one often enough in the past: “You don't have to offer this.” F/N shook her head, she could see his inner turmoil: “No, it's fine. I don't mind… and I could use the company” Her voice was tired yet firm, Logan could see her eyes wander to the bottle of Jack she'd just scanned, he could see the concern in her eyes, concern for him.

Did she know that he was just as concerned about her, that she was taking god knows what again? Just like all those years ago? He glanced down at Laura who was throwing curious glances at F/N, he could tell that she didn't want to sleep in the car again.

Finally, Logan nodded: “Alright.” A smile pulled at F/N's chapped lips, she glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at him. “Great, my shift ends in 15 minutes. You mind giving me a lift?” Logan nodded while F/N put their stuff into a bag: “That will be 37 dollars and 40 cents. Logan grunted fishing around in his wallet for the money, but it wasn't looking good, he quickly searched through his pockets, but luck wasn't with him. Shit. Sure, he had more money in the car but he didn’t wanna pay her with a five-hundred-dollar bill. She didn't need to know what kind of shady stuff he had been up to.

F/N watched him carefully: “How much do you have?” Logan scratched his head a little embarrassed, although he would never show it: “Uhm 30… but I have more in the car” She nodded, punching something into the register: “then it'll be 30 dollars, please” His eyes widened: “F/N- you can't -” She silenced him with the raise of her hand and a tired yet reassuring smile. “I'm already fired, it's fine.”

Logan sighed but nodded, handing her the thirty bucks: “Alright, I owe you” F/N simply shook her head. “Don't think I didn't see Laura putting candy into her pocket earlier” Of fucking course she had. “Laura”, his voice was a warning, but it was also tired and Laura simply shrugged. F/N chuckled softly, he'd missed that sound so fucking much “I don't get paid enough for this… And as of now, I don't work here anymore.”

Logan opened the door of his car for her, always the gentleman (or his job as a limo driver had influenced him more than he'd thought). “What took you so long- F/N!” Charles greeted her with a surprised smile. He looked older, more fragile and he seemed to have lost sight in one of his eyes. The once black pupil was now milky and blurry.

“It's good to see you too, Charles” She sat down in the passenger's seat, turning to him with a smile. It was a foreign feeling, there wasn't much to smile about lately “We thought you were dead!” F/N nodded, her heart aching at Charles’ words: “So much has happened but I'm glad you and Logan are alright” Charles scoffed: “Well I wouldn't say alright, he’s drinking like his life depends on it” F/N hummed, giving his hand a little squeeze: “I guessed as much” Charles nodded: “And you? Are you still taking those godforsaken pills?” Her lips formed a thin line, he was a lot more direct than he used to be. That much was clear, but at least he wasn't trying to read her mind anymore. Or maybe he couldn't.

She nodded softly: “I guess the years have not been kind to either of us” Logan cleared his throat, clearly not fond of the subject of their conversation as he started the car: ��F/N is letting us stay at her home for the night. Be nice to her, old man.”

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