#but his shame over what he's become has made him avoid the place like the plague

[withheartsaligned]

a homecoming, of sorts.

[slttygeto]

THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.

⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.

જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.

ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.

Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.

You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.

It’s because of me.

When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.

And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.

--

Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.

You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.

Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.

You were avoiding him.

“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Huh?”

“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.

“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.

“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.

You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.

“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.

“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”

“Did Satoru—“

“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.

“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.

“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.

“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.

“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.

“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”

“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.

“You’re being selfish.”

Selfish? You were being selfish?

You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.

“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.

“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.

“Baby, I didn’t—“

“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”

The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.

“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”

“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”

“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.

“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.

“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”

“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“

“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.

“Suguru—“

“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”

“Stop.” your lips quivers.

“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”

“You’re being mean, Sugu.”  

Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.

“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.

“What?”

“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?

This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.

You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.

--

Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.

He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.

And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.

“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.

He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.

“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“

“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”

Some space… So you were considering the break.

“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“

“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.

“Okay… can I still text you?”

“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.

“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.

“We’ll be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”

“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.

“Take care, Sugu.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[myseungsunglove]

First Pitch | Ksm

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x reader 

Warnings: angsty, wrapped in fluff

Word Count:  1.2k

𖠫Summary: Seungmin struggles to understand why his fiance can’t be by his side on one of the most important days of his life. 

✎A/N✎: This has just been floating around in my head since Seungmin threw his first pitch. It’s nothing special, but I’m kind of in love with it. Hope someone out there likes it, if any of you remember that I actually write since it’s been over a month. hides in shame 

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「©  April 11, 2024 by myseungsunglove」

You sit in the car on the drive to the stadium and the mood is somber. Seungmin is nervous about throwing the first pitch of the game between the All Korea team and the LA Dodgers, a team that he has always admired. 

Couple that with the fact that you aren't allowed to be there with him during one of the biggest moments of his life and you could cut the tension in the car with a knife. Seungmin had wanted you by his side for the first pitch and the company had given the both of you a resounding no. You understood why, and at the end of the day, you believe that Seungmin did too, but it didn’t mean that he was happy about it. 

“Explain it to me one more time,” he mutters, interlacing his long fingers with yours as he glares at the back of the manager's head. “Like I’m five.” You know the anger isn’t necessarily directed at your manager, but when Seungmin has his mind set on something that seems logical to him, he just can’t let it go. He is stubborn that way.

The manager sighs audibly from the front seat, his shoulders rising and falling visibly as he turns to face the two of you. 

“Seungmin, we’ve gone over this many times,” he responds patiently, avoiding the discussion altogether. 

“So go over it again,” Seungmin snaps. 

“Seung,” you whisper beside him, squeezing his hand gently. He doesn’t look at you. 

“Please,” he adds for your benefit. 

The manager blinks slowly at him, empathy coupled with patience etched on his face. 

“Y/n would be the only member of SKZ that is here with you when everyone else’s schedules are too busy,” your manager starts. "Frankly, her schedule is too busy to even be here as long as she is."

“Y/n is the only member of SKZ that I’m engaged to, so it makes sense that she’s here,” Seungmin retorts. “I fail to see the issue.” 

The manager sighs heavily. 

“You are well aware that the public doesn’t know that. They don’t even know you’re together. If she is the only one to show up at your first pitch, people will talk. Everyone will speculate. They already do and this will just add fuel to the fire.”

“Let them talk,” Seungmin says with a shrug, his brow set. He’s nothing if not determined. 

“Minnie,” you whisper beside him. His attention is pulled away from the manager, his frustrated puppy eyes turning on you like a weapon. “If I’m the only one here, if people start to talk, this event, this huge opportunity for you becomes about us and what we are. It’s no longer about this awesome opportunity that you are getting,” you tell him. "If even one of the guys could have come too, maybe it would be different, but you know we're preparing for the fanmeeting and a comeback. There is no time." You squeeze his hand gently. "But I made time."

He scowls at you, but it’s soft, as he considers your argument.

“I know,” he relents, looking down at your clasped hands, rubbing over the top of your hand gently. His cheeks puff out in frustration and he blows all the air from them before he speaks again. “But I need you there,” he whines. 

It isn't often that Seungmin admits that he needs anyone. His confession makes your heart clench in your chest. You’ve never seen him this nervous before. Not even when he proposed to you. 

With your free hand, you gently place your palm against his cheek and lift his face so that you are eye to eye. 

“I love you more than the air I breathe, Kim Seungmin,” you tell him. 

He leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and slow, his hands parting from yours so that he can grab your waist and pull you into his arms. When he pulls away a little breathless, you speak again. 

“And I will be there,” you assure him. Your manager turns around to look at you, a slightly concerned look on his face. You scowl back at him, a look that tells him you’ve got this under control and to chill out. “I won’t be right beside you, but I've got a seat right behind the catcher. I’ll have the best seat in the house. I’ll be able to see your pretty face and the best opening pitch anyone has ever seen,” you tell him. 

His forehead falls against yours with a sigh. 

“You’ll arrange for me to meet y/n before the game starts to say goodbye before she heads back to the company? After I’ve thrown the pitch?” he asks. The question directed at your manager. 

“We already have,” he says. 

Seungmin’s big brown boba eyes meet yours and they have softened from the start of the conversation. 

“Okay,” he says, resigned, his hands dancing along your thighs nervously like he still has more to say. “Can I have a minute with my fiancé?” he asks. It's not really a question. You realize that the car has parked in a garage at the stadium. You're in a corner away from prying eyes. With tinted windows, no one would know there was anyone in the car. “Alone,” he emphasizes with a small possessive growl. You can’t help the smirk that slips onto your face. 

Without any pushback, the manager and the driver get out of the car and walk a respectable distance away. 

Seungmin wastes no time pulling you onto his lap so that you are straddling him. You sigh longingly as his hands gently caress your face and pull your lips to his. This kiss is hungry, needy. His soft mouth is insistent as his tongue slips past your lips to taste you. His hands have wandered down your body and up under the back of your shirt, the pads of his fingers dancing along your back as he kisses you breathless. 

“Want to tell them,” he mumbles against your mouth, his breath heavy against your lips. “No more secrets,” he adds, kissing you hard again. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes your throat and the thrill that runs through your body at his words. Seungmin doesn’t want your relationship to be behind closed doors anymore. 

“You want everyone to know?” you ask when you're forced to pull away again, your breath coming in short, quick gasps. 

“Yes,” he answers simply, gazing into your eyes. “I can’t have another big moment like this where you can’t be right there with me,” he confesses. “You’re my everything, Y/N,” he looks at you with glassy boba eyes, the emotions he is feeling threatening to overflow. “I need you.” 

You hold his face in yours and stare into his eyes. 

“We’ll talk to Chan and our manager tonight about how to move forward,” you agree. “Surely they knew this was coming sooner rather than later. We’ve been engaged for nearly six months,” you chuckle softly. 

He smiles brightly at you then and you can’t help but return the gesture. He kisses you quick as you move to get off his lap. 

“Alright, my baseball player Kim Seungmin. You’ve got to get out of here and go show them how kick ass you are,” you tell him, kissing him on the cheek. 

He chuckles shyly, your favorite sound only second to his beautiful voice, as he moves to open the door, his shoulders shaking out his shirt like he does when he gets a little nervous. You love that you can still make him flustered even with a simple compliment.

He holds his hand out for you to grab, pulling you from the car and into his waiting arms where he kisses you once more. 

“One for good luck,” he smiles against your lips. 

“Not that you’ll need it,” you tell him, kissing him slowly. 

“Love you,” he whispers against your lips. 

“You better,” you smile up at him. “Cause I’m not going anywhere, Kim Seungmin.”

[galedekarios]

gale & his mother, morena dekarios

i thought it'd be nice to have a place to compile everything i could find about gale's mother, morena dekarios.

the first time you as the player get a vague mention about gale's parents is after saving mirkon, when gale brings up a story about his parents denying him a kitten when he was still a child:

Gale: One time my parents denied me akitten, so I summoned myself a tressym.

if you play a gale origin playthrough, you get a mention of her much earlier from tara, after she joins the camp.

this is a camp dialogue with its variants from act i:

Tara the Tressym: Well, if it isn't my favourite fellow himself. Player: How are things back in Waterdeep? Tara the Tressym: More or less the same - though news of some mad faction calling themselves 'Absolutists' is starting to trickle in. Tara the Tressym: I told your mother not to worry. That if they were anything to worry about, Baldur's Gate would handle things quick-sharp. Keep them from spreading their tendrils north. She still wants to know when she'll see you again, sir. I avoid giving any answers. But she misses you. Player: I miss her too. Tara the Tressym: I'll tell her. With my Cat Flap of Displacement, I can afford the occasional visit. I'd bring you along, if I could. Perhaps some day. - Player: I can't risk putting her in danger. Tara the Tressym: I know that, but she doesn't. She'd keel over if she knew just how you'd tried to manipulate the Weave. Or maybe she'd just say something like, 'My Gale always was one to make the impossible possible.' Oh, but she adores you. - Player: No more guilt trips, Tara. Please. Tara the Tressym: But then whatever will we talk about? Anyhow - I'm keeping my senses pricked for any sign of another item that might be of use to you. Hopefully something will turn up soon.

it's clear from the dialogue that gale's mother worries about him and loves him - adores him, really.

it also becomes clear that she doesn't know what happened to gale and that he nor tara has not told her.

another mention from act i, again from tara:

Tara the Tressym: Please tell me you've at least made inroads when it comes to finding someone to settle down with. Myself and Mrs Dekarios are starting to think you intend to die alone. Player: You've been visiting my mother? Tara the Tressym: Naturally. After you abandoned her, there was only me left to keep her company. She's very good company, though. Ah, the stories we've traded over toast and tea. You're a highly entertaining source of speculation. But speculation only goes so far! Tell me, Mr Dekarios - how have you been?

tara and morena are implied to have tea together regularly enough to trade stories about gale. tara is implied to be a sort of messenger between the two of them, likely after gale's isolation and subsequent abduction by the nautiloid, keeping morena informed, yet without revealing gale's secret and shame.

the devnotes also state that tara loves morena - high praise since other devnotes states that tara hates everyone except gale - and that she talks of her in an affectionate tone.

this is a dialogue in act ii after mystra has tasked gale to use the orb the moment he finds the heart of the absolute:

Tara the Tressym: Promise me, Gale. Promise me you'll find another way. Promise me you'll return home, when this is all over. Player: I can't make that promise, Tara. Tara the Tressym: You're going to kill me. And your mother. And then there'll be no one to mourn you when you've wasted yourself for no good reason at all.

i find it very interesting here in terms of other relationships that tara explicitly says that there will be no one to mourn gale except morena and her should he heed mystra's instructions and sacrifice himself. it speaks of the bond between tara, morena and gale - but also even more of gale's isolation and loneliness. we know from tara that she considers herself to be gale's only old friend and gale echoes as much. we also know that gale describes the dekarios family as the dekarios clan, that is "scattered" far and wide.

at the same time, the loud silence about gale's father becomes really apparent again. a while ago, i speculated about gale's father and i truly do still think that he abandoned morena and gale.

another snippet from an act ii convo, before gale reveals the details of elminster's letter to tara (or chosing to keep it to himself):

Tara the Tressym: I'm not one to pry. I'd rather make up all the juicy details myself over tea with your mother.

which again ties in with a similar line from act i, further cementing the fact that this is a regular thing between tara and morena.

still in act ii, tara says this if gale asks her if she'll still love him if he is a mindflayer:

Player: Will you love me when I'm a mind flayer? Tara the Tressym: Depends. Are mind flayers warm-blooded? If so, my prize napping spot on your lap won't be compromised. In which case, I suppose we could find an accord. And, of course, your mother would still think you a prince, no matter how many tentacles you had. And with a nautiloid, you may even manage to visit her more often.

again, gale's mother truly adores him. tara is utterly convinced she'd love him even if he'd turn into a mind flayer. at the same time, the dialogue again hammers home the fact that gale's been keeping his distance from his mother after he has acquired the orb.

the following lines are a compilation of some of tara's lines from act iii, all once again stating that she is a messenger between gale and morena, keeping morena informed about gale's well-being, while also looking after morena in gale's absence from waterdeep:

Tara the Tressym: You're almost at the end of this, Gale. You're nearly there. And not a moment too soon. Myself, I must away to Waterdeep. Your mother will be worried silly not to have heard from either of us - and now I can bring her the good news. When this is all over I'll be waiting for you, with a crackling fire and good book at the ready. Good luck, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'm well past due to return to Waterdeep. I'm going to tell your mother that you'll be home soon. Don't make a liar of me, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'll have to make up some good news for your dear mother, then. I'm going home, Gale. To look after Mrs Dekarios, and to remind you that there are people waiting for you in Waterdeep.

going back to companion gale, the next mention of gale's mother after saving mirkon, is from gale in an ambient with karlach:

Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away.devnote Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.

it echoes the lines of dialogue that origin gale has, believing he endangers his mother with his condition and thus keeping his distance.

gale mentions his mother in an act iii dialogue after meeting tara on the rooftop of the open hand temple:

Gale: My tower in Waterdeep boasts an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. Not to mention a larder stocked with my homemade hundur sauce. Player: Hundur sauce? Gale: A Waterdhavian delicacy, spiced to leave exactly the right amount of heat lingering on the tongue, and served with that most sharp-toothed of aquarian residents, the quipper fish. I make it to my mother's recipe. It packs quite a wallop. As does she.

we know that gale's the designated camp cook from a conversation with wyll, and i think the conversation makes it fair to assume that gale's mother taught him how to cook.

still, maybe it's because i'm not a native english speaker and i might be missing some cultural context here, but the line "it packs quite a wallop. as does she." stuck out to me:

wallop. to hit something / someone hard.

this could mean that gale's seen her hit someone and packing quite a punch behind it. with what's been described of morena so far, i doubt it's because gale's ever been on the receiving end of that.

or perhaps it's less literal and more in relation to her seemingly larger than life personality that gale also hints at later, describing his mother as "intimitable" and "sometimes unavoidable". this description is from the following conversation that is currently sadly still bugged:

Player: So your last name is Dekarios? Gale: It is. Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios. It's been so long since I've used it. 'Gale Dekarios' cut a poor figure next to the wizard prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep'. Player: Gale Dekarios... I think I like him more. Gale: You like to many things about me I'd have sooner discarded... Your generosity is quite wonderful. Gale Dekarios likes you too. Very, very much. Though let's keep his exitence between ourselves for now. - Player: Doesn't your matter mind? Gale: Oh, she's happy if I'm happy. Morena couldn't care one jot what I call myself. Tara's the real stickler for using it. Has done since I summoned her. I'd prefer you not follow her exmaple, if that's all the same to you. 'Gale' is more than sufficient. - Player: You're right. Just 'Gale is better. Gale: I agree. And on the plus side, if I get myself into any truly cataclystic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

i love this banter so much and it makes me very sad that larian still hasn't fixed the issue of it not triggering. there's so much lore to explore here:

from gale dropping 'dekarios' in favour of 'of waterdeep', at first, to appear perhaps more grandiose, more suited to the ambitions he held when he was younger, to morena, apparently, not minding it, yet tara clinging to 'dekarios' (perhaps to keep gale's feet on solid ground as much as she could), to finally finding out that the reason that the gale we meet now is not using 'dekarios' still is because he doesn't wish to tarnish his family name should he indeed fall victim to the orb.

the last mention gale makes of his mother is during his act iii post final battle dialogue, in which he proposes to the player:

Gale: That being said, I wondered if you might consider accompanying me back to Waterdeep as a new member of the Dekarios clan? Player: Are you asking me to marry you? Gale: I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted. Not to mention my mother. But I'd be just as happy without such ceremony, so long as we're together.

this again mirrors what tara has been saying in her dialogue with an origin gale in act i: that morena and her were hoping he would find someone to find happiness with.

i think overall, even with only the very few bits and pieces we learn of morena, it's easy to tell that she truly loves and adores and cares her son, and that that love and care is clearly echoed back from gale to morena.

still, or perhaps more likely because of that love, gale keeps his secrets and his distance to morena because of the orb and the shame he feels he brought to his family.

it's all too easy to imagine that he wishes her to be proud of him and that he feels he has disappointed her and given her little reason to be proud of him in the same vein that he feels he has done with tara:

Gale: She'd [Tara] be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I've given her little to be proud of recently.

anyhow, i hope i caught all mentions and that this was helpful to someone. 🖤

[moonpascaltoo]

matthew michael ‘matt’ murdock

masterlist • marvel • 11/19/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 i don’t want to lose you I @sergeantbuckybarnes

You’re in a wonderful relationship with Matt, but when the Avengers defeat Thanos and everyone who got blipped is back, Bucky Barnes walks into your life again, and Matt is afraid he might lose you.

𑣲 without you pt2 I @foli-vora

You return after the ‘blip’. Five years is a long time, and a lot of things can happen in that time. Where does that leave you now?

𑣲 pretty boy I @/foli-vora

𑣲 carepackages pt2 I @chvoswxtch

𑣲 seeking forgiveness pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 pt8 pt9 I @bellaxgiornata

Matt always made protecting Hell's Kitchen his priority, you knew that when you'd begun dating him. What you hadn't expected was just how much he'd eventually make it a priority over you, breaking promise after promise to spend his time with you. But when you unexpectedly discover that you're pregnant and Matt yet again breaks a promise to you, the pair of you end up in a fight that ends the relationship before you can even break the news. Though when he later learns the truth, Matt becomes hell bent on seeking your forgiveness

𑣲 underneath the mistletoe I @/bellaxgiornata

Tired of enduring the obvious pining between you and Matt, Foggy and Karen plan a way to get you and Matt to admit your feelings - or at least to kiss.

𑣲 if we’re being honest pt2 I @/bellaxgiornata

Already having an awful week, you're a bit out of it while at Josie's with your friends, too busy sulking and drinking down your feelings to keep up with conversation. The sight of Matt wandering off with a beautiful woman yet again certainly doesn't help. But when you stay behind by yourself to finish your drink and wallow a bit more, you're surprised when Matt reappears and offers to let you stay the night at his place. Eventually, the night takes a turn you weren't anticipating.

𑣲 acquaintances I @/bellaxgiornata

He was once the love of your life in college–someone you'd been planning a future with–but seeing him now, he felt just like a past acquaintance in a bar.

𑣲 happy little accident I @shiorimakibawrites

You are a klutz. You are pretty used to tripping over nothing and embarrassing yourself. But this time has to be the worse. Because this time, you have gotten paint splattered all over Matt Murdock. Your handsome neighbor that you’ve has an enormous crush on.

𑣲 my tears ricochet I @peterman-spideyparker

You and Matt Murdock come from different worlds: Matt, the son of a prize boxer from Hell’s Kitchen, you the daughter of a clothing designer and doctor on Park Ave. Meeting in law school was just chance, just was much as you falling for your friend. But fate had different paths for the two of you that pulled you apart, and you felt pain with each tear. Now, just over ten years later, you two meet again by chance, and everything and nothing has changed.

𑣲 stolen glances I @/peterman-spideyparker

Your best friend convinces you to go out with her to a bar to celebrate the start of spring break, and to your surprise, the night takes an unexpected turn for the better when your friend calls over two people she knows from her law classes—one of whom you just so happen to have a huge crush on.

𑣲 babe part 2 I @/peterman-spideyparker

Matt is your great love. He is everything to you. But when Matt takes a trip to California for work and a video of Daredevil emerges doing the walk of shame, you feel like dying inside. And it marks the end for you.

𑣲 close pt1 I @lindisworld

Soulmate Au! In which [Name] has Daredevil as a soulmate and Matt unwillingly wants [Name] in his life. However Fate does its job and always brings them together.

𑣲 call me I @notquitecanon

You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.

𑣲 moments passed I @dameronology

based on say don't go by t.swift

𑣲 the defense rests I @/dameronology

aka romeo & juliet, except you're a hot young d.a intern & matt is a hot lawyer

𑣲 pretty boy I @saberlight1

𑣲 neighbor pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 I @amberlynnmurdock

𑣲 deja vu I @dollwritesarchive

you visit your boyfriend in his new dorm room

𑣲 better alone pt2 I @strangerquinns

“it’s better if I’m alone.  I can’t hurt anyone if there’s no one close enough to get hit by the debris of my fuck up.”

𑣲 baby said I @petertingle-yipyip

(request): Hey, may I make a Matt x Reader request. Foggy wants to meet Matt's new girlfriend. Foggy and Karen are supposed to meet you at Josie's. (You and Matt have a little plan to annoy Foggy.) You arrive later than the others and walk past the trio, foggy notices you and flirts with you. The idea came to me with the quote // Matt Murdock : How would I even know she's a beautiful woman? Foggy Nelson : I don't know. It's kinda spooky, actually. But if there's a stunning woman with questionable character in the room, Matt Murdock's gonna find her, and Foggy Nelson is gonna suffer.

𑣲 don’t be a fool I @/petertingle-yipyip

After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.

𑣲 not so far away at all I @honeycombstrawberry

you decide to surprise matt and foggy by bringing them dinner when they're working late, but what you overhear them discussing is far more of a surprise to you than anything else.

𑣲 boyfriend? I @undercoverpena

He didn't want anything serious, but then there's you.

𑣲 sucker for pain I @lovelybucky1

your boyfriend teaches you how to fight, but he underestimated your skills

𑣲 breathing I @darling-i-read-it

matt x parker!reader where she is the one that dies and gives peter the whole hero speech instead of may and maybe it’s matt who is the one that pulls up to the apt complex and sees peter holding her

𑣲 the silver culprit I @so-easy-to-love-me

Matt comes home bruised and beaten, but the way you find him unleashes a new kind of dynamic between you.

𑣲 yours with a kiss I @courtforshort15

Things with Matt are still pretty new, but that doesn't stop the rush you feel everytime he's near, and he absolutely takes advantage.

𑣲 play along I @mayfieldss

There's a persistent creep harassing/ stalking reader so either Matt goes up to reader and pretends to be close friends with them or reader approaches Matt. Matt makes reader feel safe.

𑣲 how you get the girl I @fairyysoup

One close shave too many has Matt realizing that he might have made a mistake letting you go.

[mudandmire]

Contrasts

Azris Week - Day One: Contrasts

~~~ Hello hello! I found the Azris ship and the community this year and have absolutely been consumed by it. I love this idea, I love these two characters, and I love that there's so much potential between them and for them to feed and inspire such a wonderful community. I've never participated in the acotar fandom apart from this, and I'm so excited! Thank you so much to @azrisweek for putting together this event, I have had so much fun letting my brain run free like a dog off a leash with these prompts :D ~~~

Tell me

Azriel calls him tatlım, and Eris doesn’t know what it means.

It’s a secret, he supposes he can accept it—relate to it. Nooks and hidden corners itch and snarl with the weight of his own. An enchanted drawer he keeps in the washroom holds his greatest wonder and his greatest shame.

The journal weighs heavy in Eris’s mind. He traces back the parchment pages with intangible fingers during lulls in his father’s council meetings. The drone of bees, lazy and fat in the afternoon sun becomes the hushed whisper of a canyon gale through dried grass. The lines he inks, stroke by stroke, Azriel matches in full, thrumming strides. Words next to his are clean, unbroken, while Azriel’s remain thick, written in charcoal with smudges at the corners from where his fist has run over the line.

When it’s dark, a time when even shadows cannot creep and loom larger, Eris presses his own fingertips to those words. The smears of charcoal because Azriel had told him early on in their budding friendship when they were young that he can’t use quills.

“They're too thin, my hands shake too much.” A smaller version of Azriel speaks the memory into his mind. The whorls and pockmarks on his hands hidden between the gap of his thighs.

Eris had taken it as a challenge—and now he revels in it. Azriel is messy with his charcoal pencil, too free with his mistakes and smudges and it leaves Eris half a country away and entirely breathless.

‘Tell me what bothers you, tatlım.’ Azriel had written him earlier, the familiar scrawl of his heavy hand appearing stroke by stroke in the filled pages of Eris’s enchanted journal.

Two were made, Eris gave one away. He could not bring himself to regret it even if his life were on the line.

‘Tatlım?’ Eris had asked, his letters looped and coiled together in the way they get when he rushes, when he needs answers.

There was no sound save for Eris’s own steady pulse, the whistle of air through his nose as he waited for a response. And yet he could’ve swore he heard Azriel’s laugh, the breathy one, brush against the point of his ear.

The words appear in the space between one breath and the next: ‘Maybe one day, gach’lilit, I will tell you. For now, stop avoiding my prying.’

Eris places a hand on the rise of his chest. Holding in something that seems to be rising from his stomach to his throat and lands gently on his tongue like the orange and black patterned butterflies in the garden.

‘Tell me now,’ he begs, ‘and I will tell you whatever you wish, Azriel.’

‘Come back to visit me, sweetheart. That’s all I ask.’

It had formed a pause in their effortless back and forth. Eris wanted to—Azriel knew that. No, the issue wasn’t in Azriel’s plea, he knew just how much Eris longed for the little village in the Illyrian steppes. The stable in the field and the small, knobby kneed, black lamb that follows Azriel around like ducklings in the Forest House pond in spring. He misses the creeping, ruby red moss and the yellow and sage aspens that crop up from out of the golden plains like the jagged teeth of a cliff.

Most of all, most desperately of all, he misses Azriel. There is not one inch of his soul that doesn’t.

The inked tip of his quill hangs over the page, a knife poised for the final push. Through skin, muscle, bone, to the heart of everything—the rot that waits, festering under the floorboards of his adamant desire to run. It is one thing; it is also a collection of things Eris has stored like the most gruesome of trinkets, the most harrowing of trophies.

Because Azriel calls him sweetheart. He writes in his tongue letters of longing and punctuates them with words like tatlım, and gach’lilit. As much as Eris wants to stitch those given titles to his chest, he already has one.

Eris Vanserra. Heir of Fire. Son of Autumn.

Sweetheart. Tatlım. Gach’lilit.

He cannot have both. The heir who wears the crown, who feels it’s golden spiked thorns pierce the thin skin of his head knows this. Eris Vanserra was not born with room on his chest for titles other than this: his father’s son.

When his quill meets the page, a heaviness in his hand that wasn’t previously there, he knows Azriel already knows what he will write.

‘Soon,’ he lies, ‘when the festival of the summer sun comes, I’ll visit.' Eris Vanserra cannot flaunt about the wilds of the Night Court without purpose or reason. Even less if the hint of the reason is his desire to see an Illyrian male—but he can set out on inter-court business to strengthen alliances, break down information, and gather intel. Eris Vanserra cannot winnow straight from the quilts of his bed into the hay-strewn floor of Azriel’s stable.

No matter how much he wants to.

His chest pinches, a sharp point digging into the sensitive skin between his ribs when Azriel takes a minute longer to reply. The page remaining horribly empty with their spare words, their delicate dance.

‘Then I will just have to hold onto these words a little longer, besheirt. I wish for you to hear them in person, for they are as sacred to me as you are.’

Something cracks, folds then splinters and out pours a smile like evening sunlight through the painted colors of autumn leaves in the canopy. The tension building in his shoulders leaks down and pools around his feet, an unwanted puddle he completely forgets about. Eris may be an heir, a son of autumn, and child of a loveless, forced marriage; but he is also sacred. Something holy and divine by only the rights of Azriel, and Azriel alone.

Eris has his titles. The stitched corners of his heart taken up piece by piece, but he will forever play the game of keeping himself in between the two if it will let him keep Azriel.

He has his own titles to give him.

~~///~~///~~///~~

(Key for words:)

Tatlım - ‘Sweetheart’

Gach’lilit - ‘Firefly’

Besheirt - ‘Notion of a soul mate, but mostly means Intended in terms of spouse’

aH. Alright okay cool I'm so normal about them. This is a short little thing, and it doesn't follow canon lore lol sorry about that. I really loved the idea of contrasts because for me it's what first drew me to this pairing. At first it seemed like there were too many contrasts for them to even be compatible, and then through softening my perspective of both of these characters and their flaws (and no small amount of delusion in which we merely squint from afar at SJMs portrayal of these characters) I found that maybe these contrasts actually enhance their chemistry. what crazy imagine that.

[annafayeink]

Canvas of Lies

summary: Cate’s life is a careful balance of paint-splattered sweaters, rejection emails, and dreams too big to fit in her tiny apartment. Lu’s life is all charm, designer sneakers, and family obligations that come with impossible expectations. They’re best friends, polar opposites—and suddenly fake dating to help Lu survive a high-stakes family dinner. What starts as an improvised act becomes a whirlwind of tangled stories, unspoken truths, and moments that blur the line between pretend and reality. In the chaos of lies they craft together, Cate and Lu might just uncover the truths they’ve been avoiding all along.

warnings & tags: best friends to lovers; fake dating; mutual pining; slow burn; emotional hurt/comfort; fluff, angst & humor; eventual romance & smut;

Chapter Two

Lu leaned against the counter, absently playing with a baguette like a philosopher pondering the mysteries of life. “You know, the key to a convincing lie is to anchor it in truth.”

“Is that so?” I lifted an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms.

“Absolutely,” he replied, unflinching, dipping into the professorial voice he reserved for when he was lecturing someone. “It's basic psychology. People are more likely to believe a lie if it's anchored in something real. That's why we should stick to things we know—places we visit often, mutual friends, things we've both experienced in some way. It makes the story feel lived-in. Plausible.”

“I'll take your word for it, Professor Mangione.” I bit back a grin. “You seem disturbingly good at lying. Should I be worried?”

“I've read my fair share of books on human behaviour.” Lu smirked, picking up the baguette before resuming his pacing like a man on a mission.

“Remind me never to play poker with you.”

He chuckled. “Truth is, lying is not much different from storytelling. The same principles apply. Every great story needs a consistent internal logic. If we’re going to make this convincing, we need to think like writers.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t deny that his point made sense. “Fine, O Wise One. How do we make our fake relationship Pulitzer-worthy?”

“Glad you asked.” Suddenly animated, he gestured wildly with the baguette as he spoke. “People believe what feels authentic. If our story has details that are too perfect or too rehearsed, it'll fall apart. People will start picking at them—”

“Like a loose thread on a sweater, yeah.”

“But if it's imperfect, unpredictable, and grounded in who we are… then it works.”

“I can do imperfect,” I say. “My life is one big ball of entropy.”

“Exactly,” Lu grinned like I'd just proven his point. “If we lean into that, sprinkle in a few real moments—your terrible dancing, my savior complex—we’ll be untouchable.”

“Terrible dancing?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“You're right,” he replied with mock seriousness. “That was unfair. ‘’Terrible’ doesn't quite capture it.”

I threw a balled-up napkin at him, laughing despite myself.

“We will need to set some rules,” he declared, jabbing the bread in my direction for emphasis. “Without rules, things get messy.”

“Messy? Like crumbs on my floor?” I flicked a stray flake from the croissant he’d brought over earlier, trying to keep a straight face.

Lu shot me a sharp look and placed the baguette on the counter again. “I’m serious. If we're not convincing enough, my mother will sniff out the truth faster than you can say ‘respectable’.”

I couldn't imagine what his mother would do if she found out we were faking it. I'm guessing it would probably involve shame, a string of painfully awkward family dinners for him and absolute social suicide for me.

“And what happens if she does?” I asked, arching a brow. “What’s the worst-case scenario here, Lu? You get disowned and have to slum it with the rest of us peasants?”

His smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, but long enough for me to notice the way his shoulders stiffened. A tiny pang of guilt pierced my heart. I’d only meant to tease, but something about his expression made me wonder if there was more truth to my words than I realized. The smirk that followed was smooth, almost too smooth, like a patch slapped over something cracked.

“Actually, worst-case scenario, she tries to set me up with someone like…” He grimaced comically. “Anastasia Ricci.”

That made me wince instinctively. Everyone knew about Anastasia Ricci. From what I’d heard, she collected red flags like they were limited-edition handbags. “Fair point. Let’s avoid that.”

“So,” he clapped his hands, the motion as confident as if he were running a boardroom meeting instead of scheming in my tiny apartment. “Shall we build our magnum opus of fake love?”

I snorted, grabbing a notebook from my desk. I couldn't decide if his ability to spin convincing lies so effortlessly was impressive or just a little unnerving. I decided I wasn't ready to find out, so I leaned into humor instead. “If this ends up being more work than my actual relationships, I’m charging you for my time.”

While I wrote Fake-relationship Commandments in all captions at the top of the page, Lu plopped down on the couch next to me.

When he took a peak at the notebook, he laughed that easy, confident laugh of his. “Okay.” Rule number one: no going off-script.”

First commandment: thou shalt not improvise, I wrote.

“If the details don't align, people start asking questions,” he continued. “Questions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny leads to exposure. We have to commit to it completely, because it is confidence that sells the story. Act like you belong in the lie, and most people won't even think to question it.”

“The more real it feels to us, the harder it is for anyone else to see through,” I agreed. “So, what's the timeline here?”

He thought for a moment. “If anyone asks, we’ve been dating for six months.”

“Six months?” I frowned. “Why not three? It’s more believable.”

“I think three is too short. Six gives us enough time to seem serious but not so long that people wonder why they haven’t met you before.”

I sighed, conceding with a small shrug. “Fine. Six months. How did we meet?”

He grinned with a familiar mischievous glint in his eye. “Obviously, I saw you painting one of your masterpieces in the park and was so captivated I tripped over a bench trying to talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. If anyone was tripping, it’d be me. Over my own feet.”

“Okay, fine.” He laughed again, the sound warm and unguarded. “How about we met through a mutual friend? Chelsea, maybe? She’s always dragging people to those weird wine-and-paint nights.”

“That works,” I said, nodding and scribbling.

“We also need specific touchpoints—milestones,” Lu said, his tone growing more thoughtful. “A first date, for example. Something cute and memorable we can refer to in conversation. Something that sounds like… us.”

I tapped my pen against the notebook, thinking. “Obviously, I dragged you with me to my favorite art gallery.”

“Yeah,” he said immediately, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “The one on Main.”

I froze, my pen hovering just above the page. “You… you remember that?” I asked, looking up at him, thinking about the dozens of galleries I hauled him through over the years and wondering how on Earth he remembered which one I preferred.

His gaze was steady, the kind of look that felt like it could see right through me. “I actually listen when you talk, Cate.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact yet filled with a quiet sincerity—caught me off guard. Warmth spread through my chest, rising to my cheeks as if the room had suddenly been plunged into a furnace. My throat felt tight, and I forced my focus back to the notebook, pretending to be absorbed in jotting down the details.

“Okay,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended, betraying the flutter in my chest. “What’s the next rule?”

Lu leaned back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms as he considered. “Rule number two: no overcomplicating things. The simpler the story, the easier it is to stick to. If we try to make it too elaborate, we’ll trip ourselves up.”

I raised an eyebrow, still jotting notes. Second commandment: keep it stupid simple. “That’s ironic coming from you. Your entire life is one big overcomplication.”

“Fair,” he admitted with a smirk. “But this is different. We’re not building a soap opera here, we’re creating a believable romance. Keep it straightforward—dates, conversations, little quirks about each other. No crazy exes, no dramatic love triangles.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “What about PDA?”

He tilted his head, thoughtful. “Hmm. Let’s keep it natural. Enough to sell the story, but nothing over the top. We’re supposed to look comfortable, not like we’re trying out for a rom-com.”

“So no making out in front of your mom,” I deadpanned.

Lu barked a laugh, the sound sharp and carefree, but then something shifted. “Definitely no making out in front of my mom. But…” His voice dipped just slightly, quieter now, and his gaze flicked to my lips, lingering there for a breath longer than necessary. When his eyes met mine again, the teasing glint was gone. “There has to be chemistry. That’s non-negotiable.”

I froze, caught in the weight of his words—and the weight of his gaze. For a second, I couldn’t tell if he was still talking about the plan or if we’d wandered into something else entirely.

“Obviously,” I managed, my throat dry. I forced a small laugh that didn’t quite land. “If we don’t look convincing, we might as well call the whole thing off now.”

The air between us shifted, thickening like a storm cloud waiting to break. My pen hovered over the notebook, but I couldn’t make myself look away. Did he feel it too? Or was I just making things weird, overthinking the logistics of playing pretend? Maybe it was just the idea of kissing my best friend that had me spiraling.

“Holding hands? Sure,” he said finally, breaking the spell as he leaned back against the couch, his tone lighter now. “An arm around your shoulders? No problem. But…” He shrugged, an easy smile creeping back onto his face. “Anything beyond that, and we’re venturing into uncomfortable territory—for both of us.”

My chest tightened at his words, an ache I couldn’t quite name settling in. “Yeah,” I said lightly, nodding as I wrote it down. “We don’t want that.”

Third commandment: Minimal touchy-feely.

When I glanced up again, he was grinning at me, his usual charm back in full force, the moment slipping away like sand through my fingers. I let it go, choosing to believe the slight tremble in my hand was from the coffee I hadn’t had that morning.

“Any other rules?”

“Yeah,” he said, his expression more serious now. “We need to keep this between us. No one else can know it’s fake—not Chelsea, not your nosy neighbour, not even the barista at that coffee shop you love. The fewer people who know, the lower the risk of it getting back to my family.”

“Agreed,” I said, writing it down. Fourth commandment: Loose lips sink fake ships.

He leaned forward again and reached out to touch my shoulder. “Just… trust me, okay? If things get weird or someone starts digging too deep, I’ll handle it. You just have to trust that I’ve got your back.”

The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard. He made it all sound so simple, but I couldn't shake the feeling that pretending to be his girlfriend might be the most dangerous thing I'd ever agreed to. I hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Alright! What’s missing? Oh—how about our favorite shared memory? You know someone’s going to ask about that.”

I snorted. “I don’t know, Lu. Do you have a favorite memory of me?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’ve got one. Remember that time we went to the beach and a seagull stole my sandwich? You nearly died laughing.”

I burst out laughing at the memory. The smell of salt and sunscreen was still as sharp as if it had been yesterday; Lu glaring at the seagull with the sandwich dangling from its beak and me laughing so hard I could barely breathe. “That’s actually perfect. Let’s go with that.”

He grinned. “See? We’re naturals at this.”

“Don’t get cocky,” I warned, though I couldn’t help smiling as I wrote it down. “Okay, last thing: our couple’s song. Suggestions?”

He groaned. “Ugh. Can’t we skip that? It feels so fake.”

“Everything about this is fake, genius. Just pick something.”

We spent the next fifteen minutes arguing over options, vetoing anything too obvious or cliché. Finally, we settled on a random indie song he’d shown me once and neither of us could stop humming for the next seven to ten business days.

“Alright,” I said, closing the notebook with a flourish. “Fake-relationship Commandments complete. Is there anything else you need to cover?”

Lu leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. “Nope. We’re ready to moonlight as con artists.”

He made it all sound so easy, like slipping into a role was second nature to him. But something about the way he looked at me—so steady, so sure—made me feel like maybe I could pull it off without actually tripping over my own feet.

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth of his smile was contagious. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t end in disaster.”

“It won’t,” he said confidently. “Trust me, Cate. We’ve got this.”

___

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@mrsmangione286 | @nosebeers

[venuscnjunctpluto]

Astro pt. 5

(I think it’s part 5😭)

* As a Venus conjunct pluto, Im so jealous of my cousins w Venus trine Pluto. They can easily become popular and have women drawn to them without as much drama.

*gemini rising babies are so much fun they smile so much as babies (shoutout to my niece and little cousin🥰)

* i have sun conjunct Neptune and people have compared me to a fairy

*cardi b has venus in the 8th (and a Scorpio venus i think) and she paid to get two strippers offset cheated w beat up. Scorpionic women + cheaters are a baddd combination.

*gwenyth Paltrow recently got body shamed and told to eat but shes also has a Pisces rising. They usually are very thin or have fragile looking bodies

*first house is also personality and my experience w Pluto in 1st people they are very very dominant. They’re friends follow them around, they’re used to getting their way, they have eyes on them at all times which can give them bad anxiety.

*Mars in the 2nd house men have some niceeeeeee voices like they’re so deep you can pick their voice out in a crowd

*I’ve seen Chiron in 11th be bullied as kids and grow up and become bullies. Also they might have a traumatic relationship with being in front of a camera. (Avoiding recording themselves or taking pictures)

*Virgo risings have some cool moms (sag in 4th)

*also Aries in 11th can get told they do too much on social media (posting too much or over sharing)

* I notice famous women who people claim are everywhere (basically overexposed) or in too many roles for actresses usually are Lilith dominant. (Ex: Jennifer Lawrence, GiGi Hadid, Megan thee stallion, Anne Hathaway) are they overexposed or are y’all just jealous?😭

*venus in the 1st can lead to jealousy it’s not always love and admiration. For ex: my friend saw this guy around our dorm and thought he was cute so she followed him on ig. Mind you a lot of girls in our dorm thought he was attractive (he had pluto in 1st) and many talked about him😭 well my friend saw his gf on his page and obviously left it alone but his gf picked her out of all the girls who lusted after him to be threatened by. Well his gf was an early degree cancer Venus and my friend has a Gemini Venus at 19 degrees so her Venus was in my friends 1h. She was clearly bothered by my friend specifically following him because she found her to be attractive.

*Three girls who talked about me behind my back and tried to bully me all had Aries venuses. One had my rising conjunct her Venus exactly.

*ONCE again mercury pluto are liars idk if it’s because they think they can get away w it or what but Sza has a conjunction and my good sis lies for no reason

*aqua Venus women are usually bisexual or lesbians

*Doja cat is a good example of Uranus-asc. I have a tight orb sextile and I’ve worn adventure time doc martens, strawberry earrings, bright orange hair. Think of Harper from wizards of waverly place.

*a good song for that aspect is “Secrets” by Mary Lambert. “I rock mom jeans, cat earrings, extrapolate my feelings”😮‍💨

*sun conjunct asc could make someone resemble their father or act just like their dad and I think Doja does resemble her father a lot

* also she has Saturn in 5th and her father was an actor/performer. Also she complained about working too much and many people w this aspect feel like the fun is delayed and comes after work or they very strict on themselves in fun environments. Let loose yall💕💕

* my favorite mercury sign is Taurus😭 they have beautiful voices but the way the cuss people out is so iconic to me (ex: azealia banks)

*it’s messy to bring him up after doja but idgaf😭 Joseph Quinn has mars conjunct Uranus. A lot of eddie munson’s mannerisms were erratic and I think mar-Uranus plus his aqua placements made eddie so great at the role.

*also I notice a lot of heartthrobs or men twitter went crazy for at some point have aqua placements (timothee chalamet, Harry styles, Justin Bieber, Joseph Quinn, Noah centineo, Pedro pascal) it’s opposite of Leo so I think people keep forgetting the attention magnet can go for aquas too esp online.

*since i mentioned the show another example of Venus-Neptune synastry could be Mason and Alex. All the art references, him hiding what he really was until he couldn’t, and the fears of cheating and deceit.

*a mix of Virgo, libra, and Leo can make someone the person who tries to help everyone. They will bring you food if you haven’t eaten and also lecture you but it’s coming from a good place. I think people forget how sweet Leo placements can be (ex: Bella hadid for someone who grew up w money she’s very humble and you can see this in multiple instances. For example sza thanked her for helping fix her hair at the met gala)

* she also have Venus conjunct ascendant which I think makes someone’s Venus traits stand out. I’ve noticed people w Venus square their ascendant don’t really openly express love for people and can even get called “cold” esp by family members.

*She also has Saturn in the 7th which could mean dating older partners or partners w cap placements. The Weeknd was older than her and he has a cap Venus + mars.

*certain placements can get away w a lot. Chris brown has a history of abuse yet women seem to still support him (moon conjunct Venus). He also has mars opposite Uranus which is a temper problem indicator

* fixed risings 🤝 pixie cuts/bobs (ex: Marilyn Monroe, Halle Berry, Zendaya, demi Lovato)

[x-jackalnope-x]

Future's Clarity

Chapter three of No More Running, A Mouthwashing Retelling. Synopsis: Being caught redirecting Tulpar back to Earth by Swansea, Curly finds out just exactly how the eldest member of his crew thinks of him. Facing his failure to the lives he ‘captains’, Curly still attempts to make Tulpar safe again. Collecting all potential hazards while avoiding his new boogeyman, Jimmy. Now tasked to return to Anya and hide the protection kit, Curly wants to talk to Anya about their options. 

–

Author’s notes: AHHH!! So happy that so many people enjoyed the last chapter! I plan to have this wrapped up all in five chapters! Maybe even a small illustration to celebrate the ending I have in mind! Thank you so much for enjoying my little delulu thoughts! Definitely makes me more confident to explore more fandoms! 

Ps. 

This might be the longest chapter! I wanted a lot done in this one! Sorry in advance!

Warnings: SA, SA pregnancy mentioned, Abortion topic(?)

Chapter Masterlist: No More Running

This ship was a labyrinthe made of metal and filled with empty dreams. Curly saw that now, the patting on the grated floors reminded him with each step. 

With each step, he was running out of time- he didn’t wish to fail his crew again. What could he do to possibly make this better?

There was no better, he allowed this to happen. 

But they could get through this, he had to believe this. Curly had to think there was a way to make things at least okay. He could settle for okay now.

He deserved worse than okay. He felt that writhing pit filled with shame and guilt. 

The captain had to face responsibility for this. His eyes stung, stopping to slam his fist on the Tulpar’s metal skin. He was heated and the guilt had swelled his eyes. A palm rested over his eyes to gain composure. 

“Hey… Captain? You… man, no offense, you look like shit..” the youngest member of the crew stood there. His voice had grounded Curly back into the belly of the metal beast. It was true, his captain did indeed…look like shit.

As Daisuke took Curly in, their golden pony captain was so well put together. Now he looked rugged and so tired. The look on his face had reminded him of his mentor Swansea.

“You look like Swansea when I mess something up… Did I mess something up?” 

Daisuke’s worry caused a humorous reaction from the captain. Which made him all the more nervous. 

For Curly, he understood now. Curly had never spent much time with Daisuke alone, he had found it hard to relate to someone with aimless ambition. Something about him being here had made Swansea softer. Taking a great deal of his time to teach him the basics, Daisuke is the future’s potential. Teach him a trade now, so he didn’t spend his time seeking answers in all the wrong places. 

Daisuke was already in the wrong place. 

“No, Daisuke, you didn’t mess something up. But something is up.” he raised a brow at the phrasing before putting his focus back to his urgent agenda.

“I am so sorry, Daisuke… I know you probably didn’t want to actually be on this freighter.”

“If I’m honest, Captain… I really didn’t. But I am actually feeling better knowing my time is going to something, I dunno, useful? Swansea, he might be a grumpy old man, but he does have some really good insight to like, a lot of things, you know? He just thinks of everything- potential risks before they even become risks! I think it's pretty cool, it's like a superpower.” 

Potential risks before they are risks.

‘I see the way he looks at you, i look at you the same way sometimes’

“Captain? Hey, you okay?” Daisuke stepped closer, this caused Curly to reel himself in. Casting lines to reconnect his thoughts, regain his composure. The golden pony shining himself up, what mattered now was that Curly acted. He could drown in the guilt later… He had to ensure that later  was still around the corner.

“Daisuke, has Swansea ever said anything about Jimmy?” His voice held a certain authority now. Not one Daisuke was used too. It made their brightest member stand straighter, perplexed by the sudden question.

“Jimmy? Like.. Jim? Our Jim?” Seeing the Captain’s eyes storm, they shot cold daggers.

“He said…he was happy that you gave him the axe… After that blow up at the party… He was worried he might kill you with it. I thought it was just a joke… He said you probably wouldn’t believe him if you told him.”

The added information made the hair on Curly’s neck stand. His blindness was prominent, his crew knew this. Jimmy knew this. 

“Why? Why do you ask?” Daisuke had prodded. His eyes wandered to the rope and the kit Curly had sported around the halls. Those bright eyes narrowed a panic growing- Curly could see it.

“Daisuke, listen to me”, Curly started to anchor him,”I don’t think Swansea was lying.. I am sorry this has to be your experience with us. This sucks, if you learned anything from this- maybe it should be how not to end up like us..” 

Daisuke stood dumbfounded on what this conversation was leading to. His features are stoned in confusion and anxiety.

“I think you are a wonderful addition to this crew. You have a life ahead of you and you should spend that time pursuing what makes you happy, something that draws you towards it. Not just something that pays the bills… Sometimes the best thing is knowing when you’re not cut out. It’ll lead you somewhere new.” 

This speech hadn’t soothed Daisuke’s growing nerves. His expression spoke for him. The gravity wasn’t lost on him. Daisuke thought he had seen Swansea in Curly’s expression. But the elder held dull light in his eyes, where he had lost hope, Curly had found it. 

They all had something back home waiting for them.

“Captain?” was all he muttered in the stale silence. 

“You need to find Swansea, He’ll fill you in okay?” Curly’s hand went to Daisuke’s shoulder, bringing his focus to the plan.

“It’s going to be okay, Swans won’t let anything happen to you. You need to stay with him.”

Daisuke nodded, with the promise of answers later, his worry shifted to his captain. 

“Is this about Jimmy?”

Curly only nodded, stepping aside to give Daisuke’s direction toward the cockpit and utility,”Swans was right.”

With that simple reply, Daisuke understood. Looking warily to his captain before turning into a slight jog to find Swansea. Curly watched till he rounded the corner. His gaze went to the stairs, feeling like a mountain to climb to get to medical. His sole’s stomped at each treacherous step. His body felt the gravity like Atlas. 

Knocking on the door to medical, seeking salvation. 

The medical room felt cluttered with just two bodies in its vacancy. The personal protection kit laid open on the desk in front of Anya. Tired eyes took in the detail of the revolver and the ammunition box.

“Why do you think they allowed a single gun on the ship?” was how she decided to break the silence. After hearing the news of the time it would take to get home… to get to safety. She didn’t have many options. Feeling powerless, she wanted to weep as the silence wilted her.

“Anya, You wouldn’t… What I mean to say is.. Can I trust you with that gun…alone?” He ignored her question. Safety wasn’t the answer here, like it was when she asked about the locks… That moment felt like a pixel, now it devoured the screen in the back of his mind.

TAKE RESPONSIBILITY. 

Flashing vibrantly in the void.

“What options do you think I have?” Anya had asked earnestly. There was no malice laced in her words. As if she had contemplated her options prior to speaking them outloud. 

“I failed the medical exams eight times, you know that?” she had started,”I have no savings, all of my efforts here went to chasing that dream of helping people… What do you think my options are now, Captain?”

Her expression was unreadable to Curly. She had read him though, he was uncomfortable with the topic. Expecting him to give the same answer, we’ll get through this together.

“You can still chase that dream, Anya” Curly tried to smooth over, before he offered all that he could.

“How?”

“Let me be the father”, Curly had boldly put his preposition. Seeing the nurse's reaction, repulsed and confused. Causing Curly to backpedal.

“No,no! Not like that I mean… Anya, I understand there is nothing anyone on this ship can do. Nothing I can do to make things okay again. I can’t undo anything, but I can… I don’t know. Life isn’t over, you know? Your life doesn’t have to be over because of this…” Curly started, though he wasn't great with his direction. Anya saw his destination. 

He wasn’t a savior.

He was a man, uncomfortable within himself.

A title of captain was worth something, once striped, Curly was just a man.

Nothing made him special.

“If you can’t..abort it safely, Anya, I don't want you to stop chasing that dream. In a world like this, its rare you meet someone who offers a helping hand.. I see now that no one has lent you one. Please, just hear me out..” Curly soon sat back across from her. Closing the protection kit between them.

“Adoption? I have considered it but… I would feel awful knowing it was in some system somewhere… The type of people they could end up with.. I just don’t want it, you know? Does that make me awful?” her hand went to grip at her uniform, just over her abdomen.

“Does wanting that go against my wish of wanting to help people?”

“Anya”, Curly reached out a hand, offering it to her. Reluctantly, Anya’s hand rested just over his,”I’ll adopt them. If that means you get peace of mind, if that makes anything easier for you to still find hope…”

“I-I don’t know… I don’t want you to take it just because you feel some sense of… well responsibility for Jimmy’s actions.. I don’t blame you, you know that?” her hand had squeezed his.

“I think if you took it, I wouldn't ever want to see it? Or know how its doing, I just want this to be something I can try my best to put behind me..”

“Then allow me to do that, Anya. I don’t… I don’t think this captain thing is really cut out for me. I don’t think it has for a long time now. Would you really want to see me after this?”

The two sat locked in each other's gazes. Clarity shared between them.

She would place all of Tulpar behind her. Anya would move on to figure something out till she finally passed that exam. Her time would be her’s. With that time ,hopefully, all this would be a pixel in the back of her mind.

Anya also understood this would be Curly’s bigger picture. The way he would view things going forward with his life. More care into the things he was supposed to take care of. Learn from this and chase that escape he was looking for, a life’s purpose.

She pulled her hand slowly away, resting on the edge of the kit.

“Can I think about it? If I promise you can trust me with this? I think it's best if it's locked away with me here… So Jimmy can’t get it.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that… But I trust you.” Curly stood, groaning as the gravity crushed him. The weight of it all drowning him, he could feel the dread of confrontation coming. 

“Do you think he’ll just get in the pod? I don’t think you should be alone with him either, Captain.”

Curly went to the door, turning to her as her concerns left her lips.

“Anya, make sure the door is locked, yeah? Don’t open it till you know it’s me. Just don’t do-”

“You can trust me, Captain Curly.” 

He understood, opening the door and walking straight forward to the lounge. 

Taking in the man he avoided. 

Jimmy, till now, had been a friend. 

Seeing him now, standing idly in the kitchenette.

Curly saw fury.

[jiyascepter]

Embracing Radiance

Masterlist

Want to be added to my taglist? Here!

Pairing: Loki x gn! reader

Words: 1.1k +

Warning/Content: slight angst but mostly fluff, insecure reader, the reader undresses in front of Loki (but nothing really explicit activity happening), established relationship, no use of y/n | lmk if there is more

Synopsis: Loki becomes a source of strength and love for the reader who faces body-shaming at work. Through tender affirmations and intimate kisses, Loki proves that beauty is all about embracing their unique radiance.

A/N: Sooooo my first ever fanfiction! Please note that english isn't my first language so there is a possibility of some errors. Hope you all like this!

The evening sun cast a warm glow across the city, painting the buildings in hues of orange and pink. As the day came to a close, Loki lounged in the living room of the apartment he shared with you, awaiting your return. The door creaked open, and he looked up to see you enter, a weariness etched across your face.

"Darling, you're home," Loki greeted, rising from his seat with a gentle smile. He could sense something was amiss as he observed the way you carried yourself. Your shoulders slumped, and your eyes, once filled with spark, now seemed clouded with a burden. You offered a weak smile in return, kicking off your shoes and making your way towards the living room. Loki walked over to you, concern evident in his emerald eyes. "What troubles you, my love? You don't seem okay."

You sighed, a heavy exhale escaping your lips as you sank into the plush couch. Loki took a seat beside you, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's just been one of those days, Loki," you confessed, avoiding his gaze. Loki tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Tell me, my sweet, what has transpired to cast this shadow upon your radiant countenance?"

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to confide in him. "I overheard some hurtful comments at work today. People were talking about my body, making me feel like I'm not good enough, like I should change the way I look."

Loki's expression shifted from curiosity to indignation. "They dare to criticize you? By the Nine Realms, such insolence!" He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. "You are perfect just the way you are, and anyone who says otherwise knows not the true essence of beauty." You nestled into his embrace, finding solace in his words. "I know I shouldn't let their words affect me, but it's hard, Loki. It's hard not to internalize their negativity."

Loki lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, my love. Their words hold no weight. You are exquisite, a marvel crafted by the gods themselves. Your spirit, your mind, and yes, your body—all are divine. Do not let the shallow opinions of mortals lose your perception of self."

A small smile played on your lips, appreciating Loki's unwavering support. "Thank you, Loki. Your words mean more to me than you can imagine." Loki's eyes softened as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "You are my heart, and I will not allow anyone to dim your light. Now, let me show you just how breathtaking you are."

With that, Loki stood, offering his hand to lead you to the bedroom. Intrigued by his proposal, you followed him, the warmth of his hand comforting. As you entered the dimly lit room, candles flickered, casting a soft glow that danced upon the walls.

Loki turned to you, his gaze filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "Undress for me, my love, and let me unveil the beauty that is rightfully mine to adore."

A hint of blush colored your cheeks, but there was a magnetic pull in Loki's gaze that made you feel desired rather than self-conscious. You slowly removed your clothes, each garment falling away as Loki watched with a hunger that wasn't merely physical but emotional—a yearning to connect with the vulnerability you shared.

Once you stood before him, exposed in more ways than one, Loki's eyes roamed your form, appreciating every curve and contour. He stepped closer, tracing his fingers delicately along the lines of your body.

"You are a masterpiece." he whispered, his breath sending shivers across your skin. "From the curve of your neck to the gentle slope of your shoulders, every inch of you is a testament to the divine artistry of creation."

Loki dropped to his knees, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your foot. "This, my love, is a symbol of your journey—the paths you've walked and the steps you've taken. It is beautiful."

He continued his trail of kisses, looking up from time to time stealing glances of your reaction, moving upwards with each gentle caress. "Your knees, strong and resilient, have carried you through the storms of life. They are a testament to your strength."

His lips lingered on your thighs, and he spoke with reverence, "These, the canvas upon which life's tales are written. Every scar, every mark, tells a story of battles fought and victories won. They are a testament to your courage."

Loki stood, his eyes locking onto yours. "Your hips, a gateway to passion and pleasure. They are a celebration of desire and a testament to the allure that lies within you."

He circled his arms around your waist, pulling you close. A shiver runs across your body as his cold fingertips touch you. "Your abdomen, the core of your being. It houses the fire that fuels your spirit."

Loki pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone. "Your chest, the home to your heart. It beats with a rhythm that is uniquely yours, and it is a testament to the love that defines you."

He looked deep into your eyes, his voice softening. "Your arms, the embodiment of your embrace. They offer comfort, strength, and support. They are a testament to the love you share."

Loki brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, the intensity of his emotions conveyed through the connection of your mouths. "And your lips, my love, are the seal of our love—a testament to the union of our souls."

As he spoke, Loki's words became a soothing balm, healing the wounds inflicted by the world outside. With each kiss, he unraveled the layers of insecurity, leaving behind a trail of affirmation and adoration.

"You are magnificent." Loki says, his eyes locking onto yours. "Do not let the opinions of others taint the truth of your worth. You are a celestial being, and in my eyes, you will forever shine for me."

Loki's words and soft kisses ended you flustered, and your body as always, asking for more. It was an intoxicating blend of mischief in his eyes along with his tender touch. The weight that had burdened your spirit began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-love. Loki's words had the power to transform, to elevate, and you found yourself grateful for the depth of his understanding and the sincerity of his love.

In the arms of Loki, you found not just a lover but a partner who saw beyond the surface and cherished the essence of who you truly were—a radiant soul worthy of love and admiration.

[arainbowofchaos]

You're my light ✩

pair: Jungkook x reader

genre : mainly angst and a sprinkle of fluff, owing to Jungkook's charming persona :)

warnings: mentions of alcoholism, depression, agoraphobia, daddy issues and grief

word count: 9k

summary: Trapped by social anxiety within the confines of your home, your world transforms upon Jungkook's arrival, your new neighbor. Little do you know, he's not just a stranger but a figure from your past with some hidden history. Could Jungkook hold the key to mend your emotional wounds and lead you towards healing?

[A/N]: Please lemme know what you think I'm getting anxiety just posting the whole thing, kinda put my heart in it. Thank you for taking the time to read.

Emotionally wounded, you watch raindrops collide with the windowpane in your kitchen, wondering how the rain would feel on your skin. Rain is a soothing melody, a solace that you have come to cherish. Over time, this sound became comforting, like a song on repeat. On days like this, the push to do anything fades away, and the guilt dissolves.

Childhood memories of carefree puddle-splashing play in your mind, a stark contrast to your current existence. You long to regain that spirit, but stepping outside triggers a heartache. It's sad how you have become a recluse, avoiding the world. In shame, you look at your hands, still holding the knife you've been using to chop vegetables. The rain has captured your attention, making cooking an afterthought.

This routine has become your comfort zone. You no longer venture beyond your home, convinced that there's nothing worthwhile outside. You find contentment in isolating yourself from the world around you. Your sensitivity is heightened to the point that everything wounds you – every comment, gesture, and thought grazes against you, leaving scars that will never fade. You've resigned yourself to living with these wounds indefinitely, seeing no reason to expose yourself to new ones. 

Your mother had preached the importance of moving forward, but confidantes are scarce since her departure. Loneliness envelops you, and you carry your burdens alone. Pills offer fleeting relief from the pain, granting you sleep.

Your father's feelings of resentment towards you are like a cloud that comes and goes. He struggles with alcohol, which makes things even more complicated. Even though you left his home a long time ago, he still shows up at your place from time to time, causing scenes and making things difficult. His hurtful words and actions when you were younger have left deep scars, making you scared of trusting men and feeling like you don't deserve love. 

Until your new neighbor steps into your life.

One Monday morning, he rings your doorbell persistently, but you consciously choose to ignore it. The chime continues to echo, punctuating the air with its urgency, yet you remain resolute, showcasing your mastery of avoidance.

His second visit takes a different turn. Instead of ringing or knocking, he leaves a dish of hwajeon for you on your doorstep, thoughtfully covered with a plastic dome. As you bend down to retrieve the dish, a note beneath it captures your attention.

"Hey there, I'm your new neighbor. Hope we can meet soon. Jeon Jungkook."

You're speechless. No one has ever made cakes for you before this day. Neither neighbors nor family have ever shown the slightest attention since your mother passed away. On that afternoon, you indulge in three floral cakes, sitting on your couch and sipping your red berry tea. And in that moment, your heart feels a bit lighter than usual. It's strange but for once, you feel like someone actually cares.

Jungkook doesn't wait long before coming for his third visit. When he knocks this time, you open the door right away, handing him his plate. It's been cleaned and carefully wrapped in a bag. Taking the bag quickly, he looks at you with surprise in his big brown eyes.

"Hey, I'm Jungkook." 

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Thanks for the cakes... they were really good," you say, feeling a bit awkward. This kind of attention is new to you.

He grins, his dimples catching your attention. With that in mind, you take a quick look at him from top to bottom. He's tall and wears loose clothing, with piercings in his lip, ear, and eyebrow, and his arm is covered in tattoos. His underground style seems to suit him perfectly. He's definitely not your average guy.

"Thanks. I run the Kiwa Café downtown. Maybe you could drop by sometime?" 

"Yeah, sorry, I'm not really the type to go out. Have a good one."

You attempt to close the door, but he stops it with his arm. He’s got some strong arms.

"Wait, what if I bring you more treats to try? Since you don't really go out." he suggests.

You're taken aback, finding it hard to believe what you're hearing. Your expression softens as you timidly nod. Jungkook responds with a warm smile, saying, "Great, I'll drop by tomorrow with more goodies. And perhaps you could treat me to some coffee?" He playfully winks and takes a step back. His body remains turned toward you, as if he's reluctant to turn away. You thank him once more and close the door before he leaves your driveway.

You're left in a state of shock. What does this guy want? Why is he being so kind? You can't quite grasp the situation, but one thing is certain: you appreciate his way of talking to you. He effortlessly makes you feel comfortable, a rare occurrence for you.

The following day, Jungkook shows up at your door, dressed in a black crop top, a denim jacket, and blue ripped jeans. He's brought chocolate-filled hotteoks for you. You're torn between the excitement of the pancakes on your kitchen table and the delight of having Jungkook strolling through your apartment, softly singing. His presence carries a warm aura that envelops you in its positive energy.

You've fulfilled your promise and offered him a cup of coffee, complete with a metallic pink plate and a dessert fork. He finds the color charming, and you blush because compliments about your tableware are a rarity. As you both savor the sweet treats and chat, you learn more about each other. You find out that he's a lifelong resident of Busan and that he chose to move out of his parents' house because his brunch restaurant is thriving. The business is doing so well that he's been able to hire additional staff. He's looking to create more space in his life to enjoy moments outside of work.

When he asks you why you no longer leave your home, you honestly reply that there is nothing waiting for you and that you are content with the way things are. He listens without passing any judgment, a quality you greatly appreciate.

As your conversation drifts to cooking and books, you uncover that he's a sensitive and humorous individual, incapable of harboring negative judgments against others. Talking to him feels effortless; he has a way of making you feel at ease and never foolish. His voice carries a gentle cadence. He speaks slowly, ensuring that each word glides smoothly from his lips. There's no rush, just like the soothing sound of raindrops tapping against your window. It dawns on you that you could easily become accustomed to the comforting sound of Jungkook's voice filling the air as he talks to you.

Your conversation is abruptly disrupted by a forceful knock on the door, and your heart clenches as you apprehensively consider the potential visitor. In an instant, your father enters without warning, causing your heart to race. His surprise is unmistakable as he takes in the sight of Jungkook in your kitchen.

"Who's this guy?" Your father snaps, his gaze fixed directly on Jungkook. His anger radiates palpably, and you can easily discern the influence of alcohol in his slurred speech.

You remain silent, feeling deeply uncomfortable and shocked. Jungkook notices your immediate tensing as he enters. Just moments ago, you were just fine, but now it's painfully clear that this new arrival is unwelcome. Since you don't respond and seem terrified, Jungkook decides to speak up.

"I'm Jungkook, your new neighbor. And you?" Jungkook stands up and extends his hand to your father, who responds with a forceful strike rather than a handshake. You shiver from head to toe, feeling helpless in finding the right words to say.

"Get the hell outta here!" the man continues aggressively. However, Jungkook appears entirely unimpressed; he's determined to understand who this man is to you and won't leave you alone with him unless you confirm it's your wish.

"Y/N, you good?" Jungkook's concern shows. Tears well up in your eyes, and no sound emerges from your mouth. You feel like you can't breathe; a panic attack takes hold, and you're desperately trying to calm yourself.

"And she's crying again, what a mess!" your father curses. Those words are enough to prompt Jungkook to take a step forward, his tone resolute but composed.

"Sir, I'd appreciate it if you left now," Jungkook addresses your father calmly. "Y/N needs some space, and I think it's best for all of us if you give her that."

Your father's face turns red with anger, and his frustration becomes even more evident. He clenches his fists, and for a moment, it feels like he's about to explode. "An' who do ya even think y'are, tellin' me how t'handle my own family?" he fires back, his voice rising.

Jungkook maintains his composure, though a trace of concern flickers in his eyes. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I just want to help. Y/N deserves a bit of calm right now," he says, his tone even.

Your father's anger escalates into a scene. He raises his voice, exclaiming, "I dun' need no stra-nger tellin' me 'bout my own daugh-ter!" His words reverberate in the room, thickening the tension.

Jungkook keeps his gaze on your father, his patience unwavering. "I'm not here to lecture anyone. I'm just asking for a bit of understanding."

After a heated exchange of words, your father lets out an exasperated sigh and storms out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. The room is left in an uneasy stillness, the weight of the confrontation lingering in the air. You're now alone with Jungkook, your heart still racing from the encounter.

Jungkook returns his attention to you, his expression softening. "Hey, you're okay. He's gone now. Just take deep breaths, alright? You're safe."

His words provide a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. You manage to steady your breathing, focusing on Jungkook's reassuring presence.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice still trembling.

Your new neighbor offers a gentle smile. "No need to thank me. I'm just here to make sure you're okay."

Without a word, Jungkook takes a step closer, his intention clear. You feel a warmth emanating from him, an unspoken gesture of support.

And then, in a moment of profound understanding, his arms envelop you in a gentle embrace. You welcome it, allowing yourself to lean into the hug, feeling his comforting presence wrap around you. Your hands find their place around his small waist, fingers curling slightly.  It's been years since you've been hugged. Feeling Jungkook against you, his black curls tickling your face, his scent—a blend of orange and passion flower—is intoxicating.

...

The recent days have brought a wave of happiness, unlike any you've experienced in a long time. Jungkook has become a constant presence, visiting you almost every evening after closing his café. Each time, he arrives bearing the day's leftover treats, and you've noticed a pattern – it's almost as if he sets some items aside especially for you, given the appearance of new treats daily.

When he arrives, the two of you embark on culinary adventures together. Seeing him wear your pink apron unexpectedly charms you. He often ties his hair in a small bun, a detail you can't help but notice and find appealing. His comfort in your space is noticeable, and he respects your boundaries. He doesn't ask intrusive questions, and his curiosity never makes you uncomfortable. You feel grateful that he doesn't push for explanations after the incident with your father. 

As the days pass, Jungkook's daily visits continue, leaving you to ponder the underlying reasons behind his actions. This situation intrigues you - you perceive yourself as ordinary, yet his consistently caring behavior since the beginning prompts you to wonder what might be driving it.

It's hard for you to fathom why your new neighbor seems so determined to drop by every day. You've contemplated the possibility that his feelings might extend beyond friendship, but considering you've only known each other for a week, it's unsettling.

It's the way he gazes at you intensely when he assumes you're not looking, and how he naturally gravitates towards your presence. It's not an everyday occurrence for such an attractive individual to show active interest in you. Slowly, you find yourself beginning to rely on his company, and it leaves you feeling anxious.

Gathering your thoughts, you find the courage to ask the question that has been swirling in your mind.

"Jungkook... I gotta know, why do you come over every single day?"

Surprise lights up his eyes; it's evident that he hadn't anticipated such a direct inquiry. He clears his throat, and a slight blush graces his cheeks.

"I really enjoy hanging out with you. If my visits bug you, just let me know" he answers, his voice gentle and reassuring. He fidgets with his lip piercing, briefly averting his gaze before locking eyes with you once again, a newfound intensity behind his look. While you accept his response, an intuitive feeling suggests that there's more beneath the surface.

"How can I put this?” You start to ponder with a touch of caution. “I like having you around. But I can't help but wonder if this routine might get old for you."

He shakes his head vehemently, his gaze tinged with a hint of sadness at what you've just suggested. Then, he asserts with conviction, "I value every moment we spend together, whether it's here or anywhere else. I'd love to take you out sometime, but I don't wanna rush it. What matters is us being together like this."

His way of conveying his feelings is beautifully simple; he genuinely just wants to spend time with you. You're flattered, and your astonishment is transparent on your face – it's as if you're struggling to believe the sincerity he's displaying. As Jungkook takes a step closer, the soft scent of his cologne envelops the room, infusing the air with a comforting familiarity. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers warm against your skin, and looks at you with a tenderness that's impossible to misunderstand. The truth of his intention is unmistakable.

"I want you to know how amazing you are. Seriously,"  he tells you with unwavering enthusiasm. Your head unconsciously tilts toward his touch, like a flower leaning into the sunlight, and your motion garners a fond chuckle from him. "And you're super cute, too."

Even though you're not really looking for romance, you find yourself hoping to have him around as much as you can. You know that his interest might not last forever, but you're not focusing on that right now. The happiness he brings you in the present is what matters most.

This is what ultimately leads you to the decision of accepting his invitation to join him for a drink at his café.

"You know what? I've been thinking... I'd like to check out your café. See where you work," you admit, your words laced with a mixture of curiosity and eagerness.

Jungkook's face brightens, a wide grin forming on his face. His enthusiasm is palpable as he practically springs up from his seat.

"Really? That's awesome!" he exclaims, the genuine delight in his voice making your heart skip a beat. You both reach an agreement that this visit will happen before the café's opening hours. The next day, he'll come to pick you up in his car, a detail that adds a tinge of excitement to the anticipation.

...

If you were to describe Jungkook's café, you'd say it's vibrant and luminous. The space isn't huge, but it's cozy. Along the bay window's entire length, carefully arranged flower pots create a greenhouse-like atmosphere. Small tables are tucked away in this space. The use of materials, like wood and black metal, adds an industrial feel. The ambiance radiates warmth and elegance, suggesting he's tailored the café to match his personality.

From Jungkook's expression, you can tell how delighted he is that you wanted to explore his work. You understand how much energy and passion he's invested in his business. It warms your heart to see him bustling behind the counter, preparing your black sesame lattes while humming a happy tune.

When he joins you at the table nearest to the bay window, right beside the azaleas (which are so exquisite that you want to appreciate them up close), he places the two lattes on the table with utmost care. A heart-shaped milk foam graces the surface of your latte, an attention to detail that elicits another slightly quicker heartbeat from you.

Amused, Jungkook observes your contemplation of the drink, a playful glint in his eyes. You lift your gaze, your cheeks tinged with a soft blush, and you offer a genuine expression of gratitude. If he punctuates this exchange with a sly wink, it's merely to incite laughter and a fond roll of your eyes – he's become quite attuned to your reactions.

Taking out his phone, Jungkook seems a bit nervous and asks, "Can I take a picture of you?" 

"Why? I... uh…" Panic sets in – photos aren't really your thing, and you kind of wish you could just disappear.

"It's like your first time out in forever, you know? Capturing the moment could be cool."

But you're not totally convinced. You're thinking of saying it's kind of silly, and honestly, you don't feel like you deserve all this attention. I mean, you're mostly here because of him, right?

"What if you took a picture of me too?"

It's this last proposition that changes your mind. A photograph of Jungkook is something you genuinely desire. Perhaps it could be a way to keep him close even when he's absent? You might seem like a stalker, but your newly awakened feelings can't be suppressed. You nod and retrieve your rarely-used phone; this seems like the perfect opportunity.

He gets into a pose all effortlessly, with this tender look in his eyes. You snap the shot, capturing his cute smile forever in your phone's gallery.

"Now it's my turn."

You're not sure how to pose, so you just kind of shyly look at him while holding up your latte.

"You look really nice," he says quietly from behind his phone, and those words make you way happier than you'd admit. Taking a sip of your coffee, you segue into conversation.

"Your coffee is amazing, and I really love the vibe. I get why it's doing well."

He grins at your nice words, looking kind of proud.

"Thanks, I'm glad you like it. You're welcome here anytime."

"I don't want to bother you while you're working, though."

"Nah, you're not bothering me. Time drags when you're not around."

And you're not sure if it's the latte or just his friendliness, but words start flowing out before you can even think.

"I could actually work here. It'd be a good spot for me to write my articles."

Jungkook nearly chokes on his coffee, but he's got this big happy smile on his face.

"That would be awesome," he says, all gentle and sincere.

This is the first time a man has made you feel so desired in a way that isn't just about the physical. He also feels the need to have you around all the time. He's equally invested. And even if you don't fully comprehend your contribution, you're determined to reciprocate, to make him feel as special as he makes you feel.

...

You've been involved in writing literary articles for a long time, tracing back to your primary passion: reading. It all started with a simple personal blog during your teenage years, where sharing your thoughts online gradually captured your interest. As your blog gained more followers, you could sense your confidence and pride blossoming. Suddenly, at 20 years old, an unexpected opportunity knocked on your door. A renowned literary journal offered you a chance to write a weekly article. The thought of working remotely and getting paid to review new publications felt almost unreal. Writing was the most cherished aspect of your life, and this offer meant the world to you.

But little did you realize that this enjoyment of yours could deepen even further... until that fateful day when you made the decision to spend your time working in Jungkook's café. 

As you step into the café on your own, he instantly notices, rushing over with uncontained excitement to envelop you in a tight hug, even lifting you off the ground. The words of genuine pride he whispers into your ear create a unique warmth that ignites within you. Experiencing his authentic appreciation becomes one of the most heartwarming sensations you've known.

And then, unexpectedly, he brings forth an assortment of beverages – tea, lemonade, and orange juice – with almost whimsical efficiency, all in quick succession, "to keep you perfectly hydrated!" His insistence on not accepting any payment only adds to the sincerity of the gesture.

As night's curtain descends upon the café, he bids his farewell to the last customer, turning to cast you a smile that seems to hold the very essence of genuineness and sincerity. "What an absolutely incredible day!" he exclaims with an infectious enthusiasm that swiftly spreads to you. 

Throughout the day, you've been attentively observing Jungkook as he effortlessly manages the café's bustling operations. Every interaction with customers is an exquisite display of his innate politeness and warmth. From the way he greets them with a genuine smile to how he takes the time to inquire about their preferences, it's clear that his kindness isn't reserved just for you. 

You're deeply moved by how your connection with Jungkook has grown. He's been persistent in breaking down your walls from the very start. This transformation is clear: in a short time, Jungkook has become a significant part of your life, a cherished friend. Despite initially thinking you could handle things alone, you're now openly admitting that his presence brings you real happiness.

The issue lies in the fact that when you return home in the evenings after your days spent together, the burden of anxiety returns to rest upon your shoulders. A new kind of apprehension emerges – the fear of losing the friendship that provides you with so much solace. Tears well up at the mere thought of a future without him, and you're frustrated with yourself for feeling this way. Why does it seem so difficult for you to appreciate the current moment? You find yourself convinced that someone as wonderful as Jungkook doesn't belong in your life, especially when he embodies all the qualities you could ever wish for in a person.

...

Jungkook vividly remembers the first time he laid eyes on you. Both of you were in middle school, but in different classes due to your two-year age difference. He was pushed by a classmate from your class because he was doodling cute characters on paper instead of playing soccer. Instead of making fun of him like everyone else, you stepped in to defend him. At that time, you were more confident, and confronting others didn't bother you. You simply couldn't ignore injustice. When you helped him pick up his pencils from the ground and flattened his crumpled drawing under your books, you said words he could never forget, "Hey, don't let anyone boss you around. You've got every right to follow your passions!" with a wink that made his stomach flip. He didn't know what love was back then, but that's when he started paying attention to you.

That's why he noticed the exact moment when the change occurred in you. He still doesn't know the reason to this day, but it used to torture him. He observed how you withdraw into yourself. You spent time alone during breaks, barely responding to your classmates' invitations. He liked coming close to you to draw, and you didn't object; you let him do it as you read your book quietly. Occasionally, you exchanged knowing glances, but no words were spoken. During those moments, he felt like he was supporting you – not leaving you alone like everyone else seemed to do. How could he not notice the spark extinguished in your eyes? You, who used to talk and laugh loudly, had become silent.

And then one day, you finished school and he lost sight of you. It made him really sad, his heart felt broken without you around. What you might not know is that Jungkook never forgot you, even during the years when he couldn't find you. He held onto memories of you, even when he had chances for romantic relationships. The idea of you stayed in his thoughts, making it difficult for him to let go completely, his mind always coming back to you.

A few months ago, he came across an article written by you – he couldn’t believe it. Just seeing your name brought back so many memories. He dedicated hours to reading your frequently updated blog. Learning that you've been residing near his café filled him with immense joy. He felt like the luckiest person alive.

And so, he decided to leave his parents' home and quickly found a place to live right next to yours. Some might find this weird, but for him, it was a natural step to reconnect with you. Your warm welcome was just like it had been before. Believing in destiny, he sees this reunion as something meant to happen. His goal now is to help you find your carefree self again, if you're open to it. And it seems you are.

There's one thing that Jungkook would like to come clean about: he wants you to remember the 12-year-old boy he was. He needs to admit that he was that person to you, even if it might change things between you. 

...

It's 6 AM, and Jungkook's awakened by his usual alarm – just like every morning, you're the first thing that pops into his head, especially since your photo adorns his phone’s wallpaper. It's been a few weeks of almost daily hangouts, and he senses you're opening up bit by bit – he really wants to gather the guts to ask you out. He worries that if he waits too long, you might start misconstruing his intentions. He just wants to make it clear he doesn't want you to see him as just a friend. 

Running his fingers through his dark hair, he lets out a groan before burying his head in his pillow. He knows he'll have to gather his courage and take the leap soon. Jungkook gets out of bed and heads for a shower to clear his mind – when he's suddenly alerted by the sound of his front doorbell ringing. Quickly slipping into a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, he rushes to open his front door.

Standing right there is... you, and it doesn't take him long to realize that your eyes are red and puffy, and it's evident that you've been crying. Your braids are disheveled, and you're still clad in your hello kitty pajamas.

"I... I kind of just showed up... I saw your lights on... I'm... sorry... didn't mean to bug you," you sob, and it's a heart-wrenching sight that tugs at his emotions. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his embrace, aiming to provide comfort.

"I'm here, you're not bugging me at all, you did the right thing by coming over. C'mon in," he reassures you in a gentle voice. Jungkook's scent carries a hint of soap, and you're enveloped in it, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your cheek. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat has a soothing effect, helping you regain control of your own breathing.

As he welcomes you into his home, Jungkook closes the door behind you and leads you into his living room. There's minimal furniture – just a sofa and a TV – he moved in not too long ago, after all. And most of his free time has been dedicated almost exclusively to you. He motions for you to sit on the couch and takes a spot nearby, leaving a small gap between you to avoid overwhelming you. To his surprise, it's you who scoots closer, seeking solace in his arms again – and he's more than happy to oblige. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as if silently saying, I'm here.

"Hey, what's going on, Y/N? You seem really upset," Jungkook worries. His voice still holds traces of morning huskiness, and his warm breath brushes against your skin. You're enveloped in a comforting atmosphere.

"I... I'm just struggling... with everything... and it's like I'm scared of every little thing," you admit, but what you really mean is I feel like I’m suffocating when you're not around. "Before you came along, being alone was fine... but now…”

And maybe nobody else could quite grasp the weight of what you're expressing, but he gets it immediately – he holds you even tighter, offering reassurance.

"I like being around you too. You shouldn't stress about it, it's a good thing,"he says gently.

"Nah," you reply with a serious tone. "I don't want... to end up relying on whether I see you or not... it's kinda silly, I barely know you." And even if you come across as rude, you don't care. You need to let it all out. Your eyes are brimming with tears as you try to explain. "If you leave, what am I supposed to do? I don't want to feel like I can't function without you."

Jungkook chuckles softly—not at you, but at your words. You're not used to relying on anyone. You've lived in seclusion for so long that the simple realization that you're comfortable with someone triggers a tsunami of tears within you.

He decides that now is finally the right time to be honest. You were the one who first confessed your feelings to him—albeit clumsily. And seeing you cry like this, it's clear that there's something there for him, even if it's just a tiny spark.

"I can't imagine doing well without you either," Jungkook admits softly. Your face turns to him swiftly as his words reach your ears. His gaze is unapologetic, genuine, full of tenderness, and you can barely meet his eyes because of how intimidated you are.

"What do you mean? We've only known each other for a few weeks," you express, a bit stunned. "How can you be sure about that?" You inquire further.

Jungkook pauses - this is the moment. His hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "To be honest, we've known each other for a bit longer." You lean back a bit, pulling away from Jungkook, much to his regret, but it's expected; his words have taken you by surprise.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, cautious and a bit skeptical.

"Just give me a moment, I'll be back soon. It'll make sense," He says with a reassuring smile.

Jungkook gets up from the couch and disappears for what feels like a long, endless few minutes before he returns, holding a photo album in his hands. He settles back down beside you and offers you the album. "I was around 12 years old in these class photos. Maybe it'll jog your memory."

You could have never predicted what was about to unfold. As you turn the pages of the album, suddenly there's a photo of a little boy looking back at you. He's dressed in a school uniform - much like the one you wore in middle school. And you recognize him, but it's hard to believe it could actually be Jungkook, right?

Your eyes widen so much that no more tears come out; you're just in shock. You can't even speak.

"Look, I hope you're not mad. This wasn't easy for me to spill out. I was worried you'd want nothing to do with me after this," he says with a touch of nervousness.

You shake your head, finding it hard to believe his words."Wait, Jungkook, you're telling me this little guy is you? The one who used to draw next to me every single recess?"

He nods, a bit shyly, and it's like you're seeing your old schoolmate all over again. The one who was always hanging around, no matter where you went, bringing you some kind of comfort during those tough times after your mother passed away. Suddenly, all those memories, the good and the bad, are swirling in your head, and honestly, you just want to hit reset, go back to square one. You jump up, needing to leave, to head back home, pop those pills to make the past just shut up.

"Don't go like that, just let me explain." Jungkook tries to hold you back, but you're already in the entryway, your hand on the doorknob.

"I probably shouldn't have come here. Jungkook, I... I'm not mad at you, but I really need to leave."

"Wait, hold on. Can we talk instead of you leaving like this? Please, don't disappear on me again!" And he's yelling at this point, his voice echoing in the room, and you realize the pain it holds. Suddenly, you're no longer thinking about yourself, but about this vulnerable boy who wants to keep you close. What are you afraid of?

"I've got a lot of baggage, you know. I... I don't think I deserve your attention. It's like a waste of time for you to be with someone like me." you declare with frustration.

"I might not know all the details about your past, but I see you as an amazing person. And I really care about you, like, a lot." Jungkook's words come out gently, his gaze steady on yours, as if he's trying to express the sincerity of his emotions. 

"Can you give trusting me a chance?" He's asking sincerely, and you want to agree, but you're afraid of how he might react once he realizes how messed up you truly are. 

With a reluctant nod and a hint of hesitation in your gaze, you still find yourself willingly accepting the hand he's reaching out to you. There's a sense of liberation in letting your guard down. Confronting your anxiety attacks with Jungkook by your side seems to surpass the effectiveness of any medication, even though it involves the potential risk of future pain.

...

"Have you continued drawing, Jungkook?" You inquire, a genuine curiosity lacing your words.

His response is tinged with humility. "Yeah, I still doodle here and there, but I won't pretend I'm some pro. It's just a thing I do for fun." 

A playful grin forms on your lips. "Is there anything you're not good at?"

He playfully retorts, "Well, you'll probably find out sooner or later if you stick around."

A chuckle escapes your lips. You're in it for the long haul.

After the revelations Jungkook shared, everything suddenly clicks into place, a puzzle of emotions now neatly assembled. The enigma of why this extraordinary man took interest in you unravels, fittingly revealing its answer. Welcoming a figure from your past back into your present is as bewildering as it is enlightening, considering the deliberate isolation you've woven around yourself. Encountering a familiar face wasn't part of the story you had envisioned.

From that morning onward, a new rhythm emerges. You initially thought you'd want alone time to process the revealed truths, but surprisingly, you find yourself craving his company, seeking the comfort he brings. He becomes a regular presence in your space, creating a cozy spot on the sofa bed where you engage in countless conversations that stretch beyond twilight.

During quiet nights, if you stir from slumber, you retreat to your bedroom with a mix of hesitation. He pretends to be asleep, his breath shallow, and you ponder whether his gaze would reveal more in the dim light. In recent days, touch has become a silent language, fingers grazing skin to convey comfort and understanding. Your thoughtful gestures extend further, seen in the room you make for him in your bathroom and closet. He transforms into a dependable source of support, and you both intuitively sense the ease with which you share moments and spaces.

Here's the thing, you find yourself yearning to deepen your connection. Despite feeling shattered, you're attuned to the moments when your heart races. What you feel for him goes beyond mere fondness; you desire him in a way that leaves no room for doubt. As he rises in the morning, stretching and gifting you his first smile, you find yourself yearning to kiss him. Yet, the beauty of your dynamic lies in its naturalness, making you eagerly anticipate the day when such a moment will unfold seamlessly between you two.

Yet, the weight of your past remains a burden you carry alone – you can't bring yourself to accept his love until he's aware of your complete history. You're well conscious that his perception of you might shift dramatically, perhaps even pushing him to retreat. He clings to an image, a nostalgic notion of you from his childhood, and you've undergone significant changes since those days. Even though he's cognizant of this, you pick up on his yearning to resurrect the person you once were – and that's simply unattainable. You'll never revert to that former self. So, being honest, when he confesses something later while you both relax on the couch – his head on your lap, your fingers playing with his hair – you’re not prepared.

"I think I might be falling in love with you," he confesses, his words breaking the tranquility of the moment you're sharing in front of the screen.

The admission catches you off guard, and you react with a mixture of surprise and conviction, "That can’t be."

"Why do you say that?" His tone carries a touch of reproach as he lifts his head to meet your gaze. It's evident that your response has struck a chord with him, and you're already grappling with a pang of guilt.

"I'm not the best person, you know... I've caused pain to people in ways that don't make me deserving of your affection. Trust me on that," you explain, hoping he won't press further.

He leans back slightly, a contemplative look on his face, "You should talk to me about what happened. I'm not trying to rush you or anything, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Always."

The sincerity in his eyes and the way he puts his feelings on the line encourage you to open up, to let him in, even though you're fearful of the judgment that might come with revealing your past.

You curl up into a small ball, wanting to appear as small as possible.

"What do you wanna know?" you ask him, your voice soft.

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, determined to seize the opportunity you're giving him to learn more about you.

"I'm kinda curious about what went down when you were 14, the time you started isolating yourself in school to read," he says, sounding pretty straightforward.

"You actually noticed that back then?" you respond, genuinely surprised that he paid such close attention.

"You used to be this bright presence, and then, you changed. I caught onto that real quick. I was too shy to ask you about it. I still regret it, you know…" His voice wavers at the end, revealing the sincerity of his words. He really wishes he could've been there for you.

"You were just a kid too, Kook," you say gently, using the nickname that brings a smile to his face. "You were more there for me than anyone else, and I appreciate it."

He never anticipated finding you again, let alone receiving your gratitude. Whatever you're about to reveal to him, he wants to spend the rest of his life protecting you, making up for lost time. He wants to hold you in his arms. He wants to kiss you. He wants you to finally understand that he loves you deeply, and that nothing could ever change that.

"I lost my mother, and it's my fault," you finally admit, the pain clear in your trembling voice. "I caused the car accident."

Jungkook remains silent, allowing you the space to share your story without interruption. He gently caresses your wrist, a silent encouragement for you to continue.

"Back then, I had this blog where I shared my favorite books, but my dad didn't like it at all. He was having this huge argument with my mom when everything happened," you explain with a heavy tone, avoiding his gaze as you speak. Tears start to well up, and your voice wavers, "My mom was always on my side. She meant the world to me, and when I lost her, my whole world just fell apart."

"Oh, sweetheart..." he murmurs gently, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace that you welcome despite your feelings of guilt. "You can't blame yourself for this. Were you in the car too? And your dad?" His question is tender, his disbelief evident as he realizes the burden you've silently carried for so long.

"My father and I survived, but he holds me responsible for the accident and wants nothing to do with me," you share, your voice tinged with a mix of sadness and frustration. "I lived with him alone until I turned 20. I tried to continue my studies, but when I got the offer from the journal, I left. I could finally make a living and never see him again," you recount. "Yet, from time to time, he comes back just to make me feel awful, like he did the other day when you were here."

Jungkook is appalled by your father's behavior. How could anyone blame a 14-year-old? It's beyond comprehension.

"Wow, that's just... messed up," Jungkook responds, his voice filled with disbelief, "I'm really sorry you had to go through that. I can't believe your dad would do that to you. Blaming you for something like that and cutting you off?"

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of your past still evident in your tone. "Yeah - he couldn't handle the fact that I was doing something he didn't agree with, even if it was just writing about books. And when the accident happened during their argument... Well, he put all the blame on me."

Jungkook's grip on you eases slightly, his empathy palpable. "But you managed to get away from that toxic environment," he remarks, his voice warm. "You grabbed the opportunity and moved on, working at the journal and building your own life. That's pretty damn courageous if you ask me."

You manage a half-smile, the memory of your journey to independence still vivid. 

He lets out a soft sigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. "You’re not blaming yourself for what happened, right?"

A gentle chuckle escapes you, laced with a hint of irony. "What do you think? I isolated myself all those years. It's hard to forgive myself."

Time feels suspended as you've just opened your heart completely. There's nothing left hidden. To your astonishment, Jungkook hasn't fled as you half-expected he might.

His touch remains warm against your skin, a silent reassurance that he's here to stay, regardless of the scars you've unveiled. In his eyes, you see a mixture of empathy and affection, as if he's been waiting for this moment to understand you more deeply. The weight of your shared emotions hangs in the air, mingling with a newfound sense of intimacy.

"I hope you can forgive yourself someday. And thank you for sharing your past with me," he says softly, his voice a soothing tune that dispels the tension in the room.

You manage a small smile, touched by his words. "It wasn't easy to open up, but I'm glad I did."

His fingers tenderly brush against your head, as if affectionately tousling your hair, "You don't have to carry your burdens alone anymore. I'm here for you, no matter what."

The sincerity in his voice resonates within you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch. In his presence, the weight of your past seems just a bit lighter, the pain a bit more bearable. As the minutes pass, the silence between you feels comfortable, a testament to the unspoken connection you've forged. With Jungkook by your side, the wounds of your history don't sting as sharply. It's as if he's a balm for your soul, mending the broken pieces with patience and care.

As you bask in the quiet companionship, you realize that the journey ahead won't be without its challenges. Healing takes time, and vulnerability is a journey of its own. But now, you have a partner who's willing to walk that path alongside you, no matter how rough it gets. 

...

Since opening up to each other, a shift has occurred in you. It's as if a dormant part of you has awakened, nudging you to venture beyond your comfort zone. You start small with grocery shopping and even a cinema visit, hand in hand with Jungkook. Soon, solitary walks, workdays at various locales like the park, library, and Jungkook's café become your norm. Life starts to regain its hues, and appreciation for it blooms once again.

While strolling in the park one day, a familiar face approaches you, etched with anger and accusation. Surprised, as you've been feeling watched lately, you realize it wasn't just paranoia.

"So, now you decide to step out, huh? Putting on a show?" Your father's words sting with bitterness. "While I've been miserable since your mother's death, you seem to have magically found happiness? You make me sick!" His voice carries a storm, discomfort washing over you.

You face him, his spiteful words hanging heavy. The once-sunny day turns chilly, leaving you vulnerable. Refusing to be shattered by your father's words, you gather courage. "You don't get to hold me responsible for your unhappiness," your voice steady despite inner turmoil. "I've grown; I'm finding my own path."

Your father's anger sharpens. "Oh, really? So, this guy brings you joy while I've been in misery?"

The tension hangs thick, a cloud between you two. Heart pounding, you recall past conflicts, but this time, you're resolute.

"I'm not responsible for your pain. But I won't let it define me either, and I won't apologize for seeking happiness."

Your words linger, a testament to your growth and strength. As you stand firm, the weight of your journey toward self-empowerment shines through your words.

"And you know," you continue, your voice softer, "We both deserve to heal. Holding onto bitterness won't help either of us. I've found a path that brings me happiness; I hope you can find yours."

A pause follows, your father pondering your words. Anger in his eyes wavers, replaced by uncertainty. With a sigh, he looks away, shoulders dropping.

"Yeah, do what you want," he mutters, his tone subdued.

"Thank you," your sincere response. "I wish you well."

Turning, you walk away, leaving tension behind. Your father watches, then turns and walks in the opposite direction.

Arriving home, you find Jungkook, donning your pink apron, making Bulguri Noodles. His presence warms your heart. Sharing the encounter, he expresses admiration for your strength. Grateful, you thank him for empowering you to stand up for yourself, a reflection of the strength you both have shared since your childhood days.

...

As the anniversary of your mother's passing approaches, cemeteries evoke intense aversion within you. Visiting her grave has grown daunting, fueled by insurmountable anxiety and fear of encountering your strained relationship with your father, even with Jungkook's soothing presence.

In the midst of your emotional turmoil, Jungkook offers a beautiful idea that flows effortlessly from him. "Why not create a commemorative day?" he suggests. "Visit her cherished places, do activities that brought her joy. It's about preserving her memory in your unique way."

The weight of uncertainty settles on your shoulders. "I'm not entirely sure if I can handle it," you confess, your voice laced with vulnerability and hesitation.

Jungkook offers a reassuring smile. "If you want, I can be there with you. We could do it together."

"I would genuinely appreciate that," you respond, the warmth of gratitude and emotion swelling within you.

And so, the journey to organize a day dedicated to your mother's memory begins. For you, it's an opportunity to reacquaint yourself with her essence through the prism of cherished memories. For Jungkook, it's a chance to glimpse her through your eyes.

The day arrives. Jungkook dresses elegantly, clad in a crisply ironed white shirt and black linen pants, his black hair framing his face ethereally. On your part, you've chosen a modest black dress, an homage to your mother's favorite color. Jungkook's admiring gaze lands on you, a testament to his appreciation for your choice.

"You look stunning," he murmurs, releasing an almost inaudible breath.

His words melt doubts. With him by your side, you face the day's commemorations with newfound resilience.

Instead of a cemetery, you honor your mother's artistry in an art gallery. Jungkook's presence is reassuring as he walks beside you, holding your hand. 

Art speaks to you, a reminder of your mother's love. Pointing out art that reminds you of her, Jungkook listens intently, genuine interest in his eyes.

You confess, "I used to enjoy when you doodled around me. It reminded me of my mom. She loved drawing. She used to illustrate stuff for kids, but she also had these personal pieces she kept just for herself."

Pride and affection light Jungkook's face. The urge to kiss you is strong, but he restrains it. Today is about honoring the memory of you and your mother.

Leaving the gallery's embrace behind, you step into the warm caress of sunlight and head towards Haeundae Beach. The yearning to bask in the lovely weather and absorb the ocean breeze propels you onward. Memories surge back – those cherished moments, just the two of you. Your mother's days off often translated into these special beach outings.

As you approach the beach, the golden sands extend before you, converging with the vast expanse of azure waters that stretch towards the distant horizon. Jungkook's gaze locks onto yours, brimming with hope and vulnerability. With a softness as tender as a whisper, he asks, "Would your mother have approved of me?"

He looks so young and uncertain, so adorable that your heart could almost burst. The fact that he's even asking this question makes you fall for him a little more.

A rush of emotions floods you, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She'd have adored you," you reply, your voice brimming with certainty. “You two share so many passions and values. She'd have wanted me to find someone like you."

In that moment, Jungkook's hesitation dissipates. His resolve to convey his feelings takes over. He takes a step forward. "Then, maybe you could build your life with me?" he says, his voice carrying hope and charm.

A mix of emotions wells within you, your heart caught between longing and self-doubt. "You might not fully realize what you're getting yourself into."

But Jungkook surprises you, his fingers intertwining with yours, his touch tender. His gaze, so intense and sincere, meets yours as he says, "I understand more than you might think."

Your heart skips a beat, the gravity of his words sinking in. The day, this moment, is a culmination of emotions and shared experiences. And then, without hesitation, he utters the three words you've yearned to hear from him for so long.

"I love you."

It's a confession that echoes in the space between you, a declaration that tugs at the strings of your heart. You didn't anticipate how deeply his words would resonate, how they would weave into the fabric of your being. The tears you've been holding back finally break free, a testament to the depth of your emotions. They trace a path down your cheeks, mingling with your smile as you respond, your voice unwavering and genuine, "I love you too, Kook."

Jungkook's been waiting for this moment, for your reciprocation, for the confirmation that your hearts beat in sync. His hands find your face, his touch gentle yet filled with purpose. And then, with a tenderness that transcends words, he leans in and kisses you. 

As his lips touch yours, warmth envelops you.

You're home.

[gepardling]

late bloomer w/ gepard.

desc. : Am i projecting a little? Gepard's reaction to falling in love feels like something I would do... I might make a 2nd part. (wc : 1.5k)

tags / cw : sfw, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns, just fluff, mostly Gepard's emotional state, glaring romance trope if u can spot it, tried proofreading but i'm sleepy

index : part 2

Gepard, being a man driven by duty, has structured his entire life around fulfilling the expectations placed upon him. To be a shield. To protect the people. To fight for Belobog. This strong sense of responsibility has created a wall between his work and personal life, leading him to prioritize work above all else. The casual word for this would be a "workaholic," but Gepard vehemently denies this term if anyone were to use it against him.

He was NOT a workaholic, insisting that he had other hobbies. For instance, he enjoys cooking and tending to plants. Though he’d be too shy to really admit it, so does it even count? More often than not, he would be training if he's off duty anyways, driven by that same old galvanized stubbornness that's been bred into him by the Landau bloodline. Serval, his sister, had even called him out on it before, making repeated attempts to encourage him to relax.

"Gepard, you just can't seem to appreciate the delicate and fun things in life anymore…" Today’s topic: Women. 

It's no secret that the Silvermane Captain was… To put it lightly, woefully unskilled regarding matters of the heart. In fact, he seems to avoid romantic entanglements altogether, putting off his responsibility to marry and carry on the Landau bloodline. This hesitancy was Gepard's sole reservation, yet he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason behind it. He just wasn’t too focused on that aspect of his life right now, or so he’d convinced himself for years.

"Is that a streak of rebellion? Oh, heavens, no! Shame on you, Gepard! What would father think of your reluctance to do what's expected of you," Serval quipped, barely finishing her dramatic display before emitting the most irritating chortle that had ever graced Gepard's cochleas. 

"What do you expect me to do? Drag some girl off the street?" He retorted, almost annoyed at his sister's amusement over his predicament. 

"NO, silly. God, you're so serious all the time. Loosen up! That's not how dating works. No girl would want to go out with you if you're so stuck up about it." 

Sure, Serval was only joking. Yet, those words made his heart clench a little, ringing painfully through his mind. Was he really just too serious? It felt as if he had abruptly become painfully conscious of his own personality, prompting a reassessment of his life up until this point. Serval observed a distant gaze in his eyes, and by now it was evident that this deeply troubled her younger brother.

"Listen, Gepard," her tone softened greatly from before, "There's nothing wrong with you. If you need any help, you know you can always count on me. Even if it is about girls." She smiled, giving him a pat on the back. 

Gepard smiled and expressed his gratitude, then stepped out of the workshop to endure yet another round of patrols. Despite the abundance of heaters scattered around, the air felt noticeably chillier. Maybe this is what it feels like when you suddenly realize the emptiness inside? No, now he's just being overdramatic. It's really not that bad…

In the weeks that followed, Gepard found himself paying closer attention to his soldiers’ banter. They often talked about their lovers, or shared tales of their nights out trying to charm attractive women. It puzzled Gepard that people could pursue courtship simply for… Enjoyment? Without the intention of marriage? However, he remained too reserved to participate in those conversations. It wasn't rare for him to overhear his name being mentioned, followed by "Nah, he wouldn't be interested in joining us." 

It stung a little. Even his own soldiers don’t see him as someone who could loosen up and have a good time. They believed he was too detached to truly enjoy their company… Damn, no friends, no lover. Gepard really is married to his own job at this point. Little did he know that his life wouldn't be so bland forever. On this particular day he would cross paths with an ordinary girl from Belobog, destined to change his perspective. 

The meeting was awfully unceremonious. Gepard, carrying out his usual patrol duties, was stationed in the town. Just as he had reached the bottom of the steps of Qlipoth Fort, the sound of rapid footsteps grew nearer. Everything happened so fast that he barely had time to process it. Suddenly, a girl sprinted around the corner, clutching a stack of papers and a brown bag tightly to her chest. Before she even noticed Gepard’s presence, it was already too late…

The air filled with the fluttering of scattered papers, accompanied by the sound of vegetables hitting the cold stone ground. In the chaos, her head collided with Gepard’s armored chest piece (this was a very dangerous garment, in hindsight), emitting a resounding clang. A startled shriek escaped her lips. Reacting swiftly, Gepard managed to catch her before she could tumble to the ground. However, her belongings were lost, whisked away by the wind.

"Ooowwww…" she groaned, her hand tenderly rubbing the fresh red bruise on her forehead. "Watch where you're g…" Her words trailed off as her gaze traveled upward, meeting his face. Oh no. She found herself instantly recoiling, attempting to distance herself from the imposing figure of the tall Captain.

"I-I'm so sorry, Captain! I didn't see you, I... uhm… I mean, I didn't mean to!" Her apologies poured forth like a frantic stream, falling from her mouth like a waterfall. The Captain’s silence only made her panic more, and the firm grip on her arm indicated that the situation might not bode well.

But he wasn't upset, no not at all! In fact, he was so captivated by her beauty that he barely registered what was going on around him. Her words entered one ear, and exited the other. His gaze remained fixed on her eyes, marveling at how they shone like pure geomarrow crystals. The sun reflected off the snow in her hair like tiny diamonds, framing her face in a heavenly glow. But then his eyes landed on the red bruise on her forehead, shattering the idyllic dream he had momentarily found himself caught in.

"M-My apologies," he stuttered, his typically unwavering demeanor momentarily shaken, "You're injured. Please allow me to escort you to the clinic." 

"Huh? What?" She reached up to touch her head and felt warmth bloom under her fingertips, accompanied by a slight stinging sensation. Her hand came away with a faint crimson stain.

"It's just a graze, no need to worry about me," she insisted, stepping back from the Captain's hold. But it wasn't just a graze, it really hurt! And the longer she spent out of his support, the more wobbly she felt on her own feet. Sensing her instability, Gepard swiftly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, preventing her from stumbling again. His sturdy hold on her stood in stark contrast to the mushy feeling swelling within his chest.

"We should really get you to a doctor," he began, tone tinged with a hint of worry. She no longer had the strength to protest, the pounding headache alone was overwhelming enough.

They were both silent for the remainder of the walk, neither having something constructive to say to the other. When Gepard handed her over to the doctor, he disappeared without a trace. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of rudeness in his sudden departure. He didn’t even give her a chance to express her gratitude for his understanding, fearing she might have been reprimanded for lack of civility. Well, he was probably a busy man. She couldn’t expect someone of his stature to care about someone as insignificant as her, right? 

But right now, Gepard was desperate to quiet the racing of his heart. His knees felt weak, as if they were made of jelly, while he struggled to look normal and composed as he exited the clinic. But who was he kidding? The sweat on his brow and his burning ears were a dead giveaway to his current emotional state. He could only beg the Aeons that no one took notice of his stupor. What was he supposed to do again? Patrols? Yes, patrols. He needed to get back to work.

Throughout the remainder of the day, Gepard found it increasingly difficult to maintain focus on his duties. The telltale signs of his distraction did not go unnoticed by his soldiers. They observed the annoyed bounce of his leg as he hurriedly completed his paperwork, his mind clearly preoccupied. No one dared speak to the Captain, silently acknowledging the departure from his usual composed demeanor.

The soldiers, witnessing his uncharacteristic behavior and urgency behind his actions, couldn't help but speculate and gossip amongst themselves. Some would interpret his distraction as a sign of work-related stress or pressing family matters. Others would suspect something entirely different, an infatuation that had captivated their usually composed Captain. 

Without lingering a moment longer than necessary, Gepard promptly left his post and made his way to Serval’s workshop. Each step he took amplified the beating of butterfly wings in his chest, the sensation bordering on discomfort. It seemed to knock the air from his lungs whenever he tried to articulate his thoughts.

"It happened," he tells her bluntly. 

"What? What happened?" Serval shook him by the shoulders, her voice filled with urgency. "Gepard, you're gonna have to give me more than that!"

this was meant 2 be sum quick filler but i got rlly invested in it... my style feels more formal but mby tht's bc i jus finished studying. am a lil braindead, had to take a break from the hardy-weinberg equation and do smth productive. no more broad sense heritability, only geppie ♥︎

[that-starry-freak]

Yknow…. In Masm channel, Everyone seems to bully mask sun ALOT. At some point, suns gonna spiral into murderous rage if this keeps progressing

I’m making of angst headcanons for sun :)

Masm sun is super depressed like MAJORLY depressed after all the stress of being bullying and poking fun at. He’ll cry in silence in somewhere private and people where start to wonder where he’s been. Because of the fear of being made fun of, he can NEVER let anyone know where he is or was. It be so unbearable that everyone found out and worse things could happen.

-Whenever something is bothering sun he thinks the best way is to just ignore it. It will eventually go away. - aside from moon, Roxy and Freddy are the only people who supportive because they deal with emotions better than anyone else. Moon does cares about sun more than he lets on, he just doesn’t show it that much.

-he’s VERY distrustful of foxy, and monty because they are the most violent out of everyone sun and moon ever known. Due to the fact that Monty is very destructive and Foxy is a wild card. But he isn’t as bad as Monty, he just likes to pick on sun and pull pranks on him whenever he’s bored. Sun used to have a crush on him but that over time he’s become too deceptive for him. Monty FAR worse than compared to foxy. He’s been brute ever since he came to the building and the very first things he did was break and destroy everything. He’s just a major home wrecker who has no guilt or shame whatsoever for his behavior towards anyone or anything. The only thing he finds sun as an “easy target” just to tear apart and sun fidgets and incredibly nervous when he’s around and tries to avoid him at all needs.

-He’ll be very cautious when a “new friend” comes arriving. Sometimes he’ll lay back on being introduced or refusing to meet a new person because he’d had so many incidents with the last few couple of people that were greeted. Moon would start to notice suns off behavior because he always greets new comers and he just assumes he's just having a bad day or something. Sun wouldn’t take the risk of meeting new comers or making friends, he’s had enough of it already.

-despite of being sad all the time, he puts on a mask to show that he’s still his a happy self. It’s really only for his sake. He can’t let the others know he’s not being himself. If he doesn’t be happy, he’ll never have any place to fit in.

-He has multiple panic attacks and has ptsd from being bullied. Moon knows about this (Roxy told him) and would need to lay off the pranks and teasing for while along foxy and Monty. Moon can still tease him but only does it softly because sun is very sensitive.

-After being told by moon that he would be different than others instead of acting the way he is. He became very self conscious about himself. He started being insecure about himself and believed he needed to change. Moon noticed, he regrets it and tells him that he doesn’t need to change. He’s fine with the way he is but the damage is still very cut deep. Moon still tries to help him out any way he can.

(This is all I have for now, my hands hurt. What do you think about these?? 🫠) *im totally not crying for making these up*

meiejdjdn dude I love you so much /p THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVED READING THESE DUDE

Me- me when- me- AUGH

No cause- chat- chat like- Moon praising him more to reassure him- and- dude, dude the hurt comofet- and the possibility of Sun giving up and/or lashing out at everyone- and- and

Oh my god my brain is racing now thank you so much I enjoyed this immensely

[porphyriosao3]

Day 13 - Hair

Sometimes Bilbo despaired of himself. He had tried to be the perfect gentlehobbit as a tween; first to please his father (his mother was another story), then to honor his father's memory. He had prided himself on his social skills. That in itself was hardly praiseworthy, but the flow of social interactions seemed to benefit everyone, so he felt that he was forgiven a small sense of pride when he navigated a particularly tricky corner with difficult people and everyone left smiling.

The dwarves had been quite an eye-opener. Not only had he been dragged along on their adventure by the maelstrom they seemed to produce at all turns (not entirely that, a tiny voice whispered) but there were also an entirely new set of social signals, things to say and not say, things that must (and must not) be said, to the point where he could hardly tell in some conversations whether he was following or not.

It was his particular misfortune that the dwarf who was the most of a stickler for dwarven social protocol was the one he was most interested in conversing with... although the reverse seemed emphatically not to be so. Thorin, king of a realm Bilbo had never heard of, lord of a vast network of people Bilbo had never met, was like a figure from one of the tales he had read has a faunt. He was also as approachable as a prickle-bush, and about as forgiving of even the smallest faux-pas.

There were so very many differences apparent between the dwarves and hobbits! My goodness, he thought, one would find it easier to catalog the similarities, as those could fit on a pair of hands with fingers left over. They were built different physically; even the weakest of the dwarves was as strong as two burly hobbits, as best Bilbo could tell. They enjoyed things that hobbits found off-putting, like hard work and being deep in the earth. Their conversation was often obscure and political, focusing closely on topics Bilbo had always been raised to avoid, while seeming to find normal social niceties to be alarmingly forward. Really, he despaired of it.

One of the most unusual interactions with Thorin had to be when Bilbo asked Bofur (always the friendliest of the lot, if not the kindest) if he had some scissors or shears, as his hair was growing too long. You'd have thought he had asked Bofur to stab him! Honestly! Such a fuss, and in the middle of it Thorin arrives like some sort of angry king of legend and drags Bilbo away!

"Who has shamed you?" was the king's fierce demand, as though that made a lick of sense. "I will kill them myself; you shall not cut your hair, your honor is not besmirched."

"My... what?" Bilbo was utterly lost, and more than slightly flabbergasted by the kerfuffle which he could still hear in the distance. "Honor? Thorin, my hair is too long; it's getting in my eyes, that's all. I always have to trim it since it grows so quickly," he said with a nervous chuckle - such statements were verging on personal sharing, which was frowned upon with someone as distant as the king was... er, had been... really, Bilbo didn't know what was going on at all.

"Too... long?" For his part, Thorin seemed to share Bilbo's confusion. Not for the first time, it was becoming clear they weren't having the same conversation at all, despite speaking to each other in what was supposed to be the same language. "So... nobody has... bothered you?" The emphasis placed on 'bothered' brought unwelcome thoughts to Bilbo's mind, but he pushed them away. Surely he didn't mean anything of the sort.

"No, heavens no," the hobbit chuckled, taking refuge in a blanket denial. "Nothing of the sort, I just get tired of flipping my curls out of my eyes. Besides, if it gets but so long, I'll turn into a dustmop. You have no idea how much trouble it can be to clean twigs and such out of an unruly pile of curls, since your hair is so lovely and straight." He smiled, wondering at the source of the blush he could see spreading like a crimson stain across Thorin's cheeks. The dwarves seemed to like braids, since they all had them. Bilbo wasn't keen to have braids, but who would see him out in the woods, and perhaps this was an opportunity to show the dwarves he was willing to learn their cultural ways. Smiling confidently, he turned to face Thorin directly. "Well, perhaps you could braid my hair back for me, then?"

He was not prepared for Thorin to faint at all.

[sakura-scum]

₊˚⊹ open arms ⊹˚₊

✿ a/n: i don't ever really post original content on here so whaddup :p unedited/not proofread af, but satosugu has been eating me alive and i needed to post this somehwere bc feels? heavily inspired by sza, i can't stop listening to this song omfg :0

✿ summary: angsty stsg analysis from gojo's pov

✿ w/c: ~1.5k words

✿ warning: anime + manga spoilers for jjk 0 + hidden inventory (ish) || implied sex? right off the bat tho lol, loss, grief, possible swearing :p 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

"This was your first time, wasn't it?"

"I've already told you that."

"Hah... no. This was your first time being truly open with someone, hm?"

I'll never forget the way he delicately brushed the strands of hair stuck to my forehead. It was as though he held all the tenderness and adoration in the world for me.

"What do you mean? I'm always open?" My voice cracked, betraying the facade of strength I tried to uphold.

"The way you said that, as if it were a question, says it all." His observation felt like a dagger twisting in my heart, a painful acknowledgment of how right he was. 

I wince as he gently taps my cheek, coaxing me to meet his gaze. Suddenly, I'm hesitant to look into his eyes, afraid of further truth I may uncover there.

Eventually, when I did, I was reminded why I was here in the first place. Warm brown eyes that felt like home now held a distance I couldn’t bridge. The first gaze that could accept me for who I was. He can see right through my flaws. Here, I never had to pretend to be perfect. He made perfectionism feel like a distant dream.

"Stop overthinking. I hate it when you do that."

"Sorry," was all I could muster, my voice barely a whisper in the silence that lingered between us.

He smirks at me before rolling over onto his side. I remain fixed in the same position, staring at the ceiling, as if he were still hovering over me. Somehow, the weight of his absence felt heavier than his presence ever did.

"Thank you,” I whispered into the darkness, like a plea for forgiveness that would never be answered.

.     .     .

As the silence envelops us, I feel a surge of emotions rising within me. It's strange how words can sometimes fail to capture the depth of what we feel. But with him, it felt like there was an unspoken understanding; a connection that transcends mere conversation.

With a gentle sigh, I shift closer to him, seeking solace in his presence. His arm instinctively wraps around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. In his embrace, I find comfort, a sense of security that I've longed for.

I close my eyes, allowing myself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. It's in moments like these that I realize how much I've come to rely on him, and how empty my world would be without him. It was as if his presence had become a sanctuary in the chaos of my life.

After that day, I began to realize my own lack of transparency. Was I avoiding the scrutiny of others, or fleeing from myself? What destination was I so desperately seeking, and why? I’ve never been a lonely person, or at least that is what I had convinced myself. I’ve always been surrounded by family, friends, and loved ones. It was a fulfilling life, wasn’t it? Meeting you unearthed a loneliness rooted deep within me. 

 Every bad day, every terrible moment, I found myself back in that same special spot, searching for solace in the echoes of our past. Even if I didn’t voice my concerns, you always greeted me, arms open wide, like my head had a reserved spot on your chest where I could close my eyes and relinquish myself to the rhythm of your heartbeat. 

Before we crossed paths, I had never pondered these questions, content to drift through life to fulfill what I had been told was my purpose. But you redefined that purpose. Suddenly, I felt compelled to cease running, not from myself or others.  When did I become so reliant on you? Why was I now running from you and your open embrace? I fled towards the places steeped in damage and shame. Had I finally found the courage to look within? 

The questions you provoked within me felt like shards of a shattered mirror, reflecting back a distorted image of a soul struggling to find a place in a world that no longer made sense.

The solace I sought in you blinded me to the truth: you were the fractured mirror all along.

But how could I notice when I was so self-absorbed? Perhaps if I could mend the fragments of the ruins of my mind, a haunted house of mirrors, I could in turn help fix you. Days blurred together as I found myself gazing into my own reflection, contemplating how I might reach out to you, openly trying to reach the dark and shaded depths of your mind. In my blurred vision, perhaps I overlooked just how much you truly needed me. Fixing you felt like a cruel illusion, a fantasy born from desperation and despair.

Checking on you was not nearly enough. It just felt like a feeble attempt to bridge what now separated us. How could I convey the love you give to me so effortlessly? Did you truly grasp the depth of my feelings? 

 I said those three words so often, but you never had to because your actions spoke louder than any declaration. How did you effortlessly escape speaking in moments like these, when every word you uttered started to feel like a knife to the heart? What was silencing you? Have you ever even uttered those words to me? I can’t recall a time you did. 

The more I delved into self-improvement, the more distance was created between us. Was I on the wrong path? Did my self-loathing somehow bind him to me? I’d gladly revert to the dark depths of hating myself if it would draw him closer. Even now, though, that felt like a hollow promise to keep you from walking away.

My insecurities, the void in my heart… it gave you a purpose, didn’t it? I’d gladly embrace that version of myself if it meant I could stay by your side. I yearn for the comfort of residing in your arms once more. So I mirrored your actions: I waited for you with open arms. 

Why didn’t you approach me as eagerly as I had once approached you?

The day I found out about what you did, I felt more angry at myself than I did you. It felt like a painful acknowledgment of my own complicity in our downfall. I blamed myself for letting things deteriorate to this point. Whether or not I chose to adapt that feeling of self-hatred willingly, it seemed to return on its own accord. 

Did you choose to walk away or did my ignorance push you to that point? 

It’s like I couldn’t force myself to care about your actions; I just had to know if you were okay. I’m hopelessly devoted to you. Is this what love does to you? Is this how it’s supposed to feel? Please tell me it's love. I know you’ve always been hesitant to admit it, but I need to hear it from you. 

I searched endlessly until I found you. Amidst a crowd of faces blending together, none of them could hold a candle to you. My world was monotonous without you, and there you were like the sun in a valley of stars. You always swore you were the moon and that couldn’t be more false in my mind. Can’t you see my whole world revolved around you? 

I wanted answers. No, that’s not enough, I wanted to understand you. I needed to understand the depth of your pain and suffering, like a desperate plea for absolution in the face of our own insecurities and shortcomings. Why couldn’t I just open up to you? I wanted to tell you everything. You knew me inside and out and yet I couldn’t claim the same about you. My mind felt like a treasure you delicately unwrapped, cherishing every discovery. Yet, my impatience drove me to want to tear into your mind, to uncover all the secrets I endlessly sought. 

Where did you vanish to? What happened to us? Was I just another casualty in your evolving quest for power and control?  Did I ever truly know you? Who are you, really? 

I promise I didn’t intentionally self-isolate. That’s just what happens when you’re in love, right? My life was always this lonely, or that's at least how I remember things because my life only had meaning when you came into it. 

I guess I have to let you go. 

Memories spilled through the gaps of my fingers like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy. The more I tried to hold on to them, the more difficult they became to remember.

Retrospectively, I never changed myself. I’m that same broken teen I once was. You just brought perspective and meaning to my life, a debt I could never repay.  I never learned to be open or expressive. I just learned to endlessly drift with echoes because I couldn’t say goodbye.

At least I got to hold onto your lifeless form with open arms. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

✿ a/n: no, i won't be paying for anyone's therapy ;-;  comments n' feedback always appreciated! thanks so much for reading! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[iris-in-the-rain]

Stede's father's associate is getting married and his father has made him come to the wedding. As long as he behaves and doesn't bring shame on the family. Stede tries to put his foot down about not going, but when that doesn't work he insists on bringing his best friend, Ed Teach. Bonnet Sr hates him, but eventually relents, but warns Stede that if either him and Ed do anything that embarreses him, there'll be hell to pay.

Stede is worried, but Ed promises him everything will be okay. The wedding takes place at a picturesque resort, with a lake and woods around it. If anything happens, Ed says, we will stage an escape.

'Stede, trust me. It'll be okay.'

And Stede does trust him.

The wedding goes okay, but afterwards, Bonnet Sr tries to parade Stede around, taking him away from Ed. Stede is becoming increasingly unhappy and uncomfortable, so when he temporarily breaks off from his father's company, Ed pounces, and they go outside.

They wander into the early night, sun just setting and they just keep walking. Stede is silent. Ed turns to him.

'Hey, you okay?'

Stede lets out a shaky breath.

'I hate it, Ed. I hate it.'

Ed takes his hand and gives it a sqeeze, silently urging him to continue.

'I hate this job, all of it. He parades me around like I'm some kind of a trophy, and not even a good one at that. He thinks I want the company, but he doesn't accept me as I am. He just wants me because I'm his only son, but he never wanted me, you know?' Ed knows very well. He's quite familiar with elder Bonnet's cruel ways.

'I don't know what to do, Ed!' Stede's eyes start to glisten.

'I know, Stede. I know. I'm on your side, always. You know that, right?'

That earns him a timid smile.

'I just wish I was better at this.' Stede sighs into his hand, the other one still clasped with Ed's.

'You are better. At this. Than this. I know you'll figure it out. Stede Bonnet is the best guy I know!'

Stede laughs then sobers again.

'Thank you for coming with me. You didn't have to. I'm sorry he's such an ass to you.'

'Stede, it's okay. I wanted to come with you. And we got some free food and booze out of it!'

They keep walking, when Stede suddenly stops. Ed follows suit and then they're staring at a big trampoline. Ed raises his eyebrows.

photo: mine

'Yeah?'

Stede smiles wistfully.

'You know, I always wanted to. I saw one once when I was a child. I really wanted to go on it, but my father slapped me and said that no son of his would behave in such a way. That it's unbecoming. God knows what he'd say now.'

Ed grins.

'Come on then!'

Stede stares back in disbelief.

'Ed, we can't!'

'Why not?'

'I'm... it's... I'm not...'

'Did you ever end up going on one?'

'Well no...'

'We're doing it, come on!'

Ed's smile is so earnest now that Stede just can't say no to him. He never could. He lets himself be pulled towards the trampoline and they both climb in, wobbling and Stede giggles, as he barely avoids toppling over and pulling Ed with him. His best friend looks at him with unbridled joy in his eyes and Stede knows his own face reflects the same.

'Ready?'

Stede grabs Ed's other hand and they stand facing each other.

'Now I am.'

They start jumping, slowly at first, until Stede feels his legs lifting him higher and higher and Ed's hair frame his face as he laughs and Stede laughs, too and he's never felt so happy and so free and he knows that he doesn't want to do this, any of this, without Ed.

And he needs to tell him.

He slows down, but the imbalance pulls him to the bottom of the trampoline and Ed falls with him. Then Stede is on his back and looking into the night sky, face flushed and breathing hard and next to him Ed is grinning.

'This was so fun!'

'Right??' Ed turns to him and they just look at each other for a few moments, as they catch their breath.

'Happy looks good on you, you know'

Stede rolls over to face him, and then Ed leans in, and Stede's eyes flutter closed, but then some loud whooping noises from the direction of the wedding venue startle them both. Ed clears his throat and starts to pull away, the joy on his face fading, and no, Stede can't have that. He came here against his better judgement, unhappy and quite honestly, terrified. And then Ed, his lovely, patient best friend, Ed, came with him and made things okay.

And he loves him. Oh, he loves him! Here he is, 2 months until his 46th birthday, wearing a tux, lying on a trampoline in the middle of nowhere, and he's never had more fun in his life. All because of the man next to him. He reaches his hand up to Ed's cheek and gently scratches through his beard.

'Hey'

Ed smiles.

'Hey'

'I think I want to do more of what makes Stede happy.'

Ed's voice drops to a whisper.

'And what makes Stede happy?'

The kiss is gentle, almost a ghost of a kiss, but it feels like coming home, like an exhale, a relief that you're finally okay. Like a promise of tomorrow that you want to be a part of.

Ed is very much okay with that answer.