#but i'd rather do this than keep going with this anxiety !!

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[shevr]

streaming actually mildly sucks because i'm very selfconscious about my voice all throughout the thing and then i check the VOD to listen to myself and the selfconsciousness is validated and doubled upon

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

OKAY I HAVE ONE MORE!! I just read the post you did where s/o got injured after getting in a fight, and I'd love to know how Jamil, Trey, Ruggie, Jade, and Deuce would react if their s/o tried to hide the fact they got hurt? Either because they didn't want to be a bother or because they knew the guys were busy and didn't want to add to their plate. Even going as far as avoiding them for a day or two while trying to (badly) nurse their wounds.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce can’t be entirely mad at you since that would be the same thing he would do. He wouldn’t want you to worry about him either, but now he sees how that can actually hurt more. You had never given him a reason to be dishonest before and he hoped you saw from his calm reaction that you didn’t have to fear confiding in him, either. He was here to be your support if you didn’t want his protection, he just needed you to at least let him in on what was happening. He’d stop anything to take care of you and he makes that clear, wearing an intense expression as he made you promise to tell him if you were hurt like this again.  

Jade Leech:

Jade could always smell blood in the water. While he allowed you to foolishly believe you were hiding your wounds from him, he was aware from the beginning that you were injured. If you were trying to hide it from him than he wasn’t going to point it out until he saw how far you were willing to go to keep your secret. It’s almost amusing that you’d rather be in pain rather than tell him you’re hurt but once your pain is too great to hide, he smoothly let you know he had a few nursing skills as he and Floyd used to play rough as children. He doesn’t ask how you got the wounds (he already knows) nor does he point out that he knew you hid it from him, simply smiling at you and knowing he had you sweating it out on whether you were going to confess or not.

Jamil Viper:

It feels a little like betrayal to Jamil. While he didn’t want the stress of having to care for your wounds thrust upon him (even if he’d do so anyway), he didn’t like that you apparently didn’t trust him enough to tell him. Had he done something to deserve you purposely keeping secrets from him? Your relationship had been tumultuous at first but he had thought you found a comfortable middle ground, where you were both content even if there was still more to learn about each other. He helped clean you up as he can’t help but call you out when you’re clearly in pain, scowling the entire time as he couldn’t bite back his anger at you hiding away your injuries from him. He was clearly hurt and told you to just tell him next time to save him the anxiety of thinking he did something wrong, as he could at least escort you to the nurse.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie sighed, wondering how you always managed to attract trouble to you.He doesn’t seem to take your you hiding your injury from him personally, saying he might’ve done the same as some things are just too mortifying to admit to. He grinned as he said he appreciated you not getting him into trouble with you, as he certainly got into more than enough with Leona and the others in Savanaclaw. Still, if you were hurt and needed someone to lean on you should come to him, as a wounded animal separated from the pack would get killed.  

Trey Clover:

Trey sighed, knowing it was partially his own fault as he piled his worries onto you without thinking of how you might view that. He dealt with the trouble he was handed because he knew how to, and while it was too much from time to time, you were hardly the cause of most of his troubles. He didn’t want you to hide something like an injury from him just because he seemed busy, even if he couldn’t help directly, he would have been able to get you the suitable treatment and check in on you later. You’re scolded directly and it leaves you worried he might be mad at you forever, since it was so rare to see him annoyed like this. Those thoughts end when you wake up the next morning with fresh baked goods and a note saying to text him when you finally awoke so he could check in on you.  

[03jyh23]

— starlight, guide light, and everything in between || jeong yunho

In the quiet moments of parenthood, amidst the tears and the laughter, we find strength in each other's arms, and love that knows no bounds.

first-time dad!yunho x first-time mom!reader

genre: angst, fluff

trigger warnings: infant distress/crying; illegitimate child; parental anxiety/panic; emotional distress; breastfeeding; postpartum experiences

words: 3.8 k

reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! the time has finally come, and im publishing my first Yunho fic 🥹 lately, some kind of maternal instinct seems to have awakened in me, and i had to get it out somehow 😭😭 i guess im getting old. just to clarify, i haven't given birth myself or have kids, so this fic is solely written based on my imagination of what it might feel like postpartum.

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i'd be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

You were dozing off wrapped in Yunho’s arms, your head in the crook of his neck, his smell calming your tired body. Your eyes were heavy, and it was getting harder to fight sleep. His hand was creasing your sides softly, lulling you to sleep. Being curled up on top of your boyfriend was your favorite place on earth. There was something incredibly comforting about being wrapped up in Yunho’s arms, feeling his warmth and steady heartbeat. It's like your own little sanctuary, a safe place where you can let go of all your worries and just be present in the moment. And falling asleep like that, with the gentle rhythm of Yunho's breathing and the soft touch of his hand, felt like drifting off into a dreamland.

It was a little over a month since your life was turned upside down when your little daughter was born. In that short period, every aspect of your world had shifted, reshaped by the arrival of this tiny, precious bundle of joy. The days had blurred together in a whirlwind of feedings, diaper changes, and sleepless nights. Yet amidst the chaos, there were moments of pure magic—how your daughter's eyes would light up with wonder at the world around her, the soft coos and gurgles that melted your heart, and the overwhelming sense of love that filled every corner of your home. But alongside the joy, there were also moments of doubt and uncertainty. Yunho, however, was deeply scared and anxious about becoming a father to a daughter. The mere thought of holding the fragile little being, feeding her, or changing her, filled him with a sense of fear and hesitation. It almost seemed like he was unable, or unwilling, to form an emotional bond with the newborn. This emotional disconnect was not just limited to the baby. Ever since you gave birth, a sense of apprehension and fear had gripped him. It was as if he was afraid to hold you, to touch you, and to confront the changes that your body had undergone postpartum.

The vulnerability that came with postpartum recovery was like nothing you had ever experienced before. Your body felt foreign, every movement was accompanied by a dull ache, a reminder of the physical toll that bringing your daughter into the world had exacted. But it wasn't just the physical changes that left you feeling vulnerable—it was the emotional upheaval as well. The hormonal fluctuations, the sleep deprivation, the overwhelming responsibility of caring for a newborn—all of it combined to create a perfect storm of doubt and insecurity. In those moments of vulnerability, you had expected Yunho to be your rock, your unwavering source of support and comfort. Yet, his actions—or rather, his lack of them—left you feeling more alone than ever. His hesitation to hold your daughter, and his reluctance to look at your postpartum body, all served as a painful reminder of your perceived shortcomings as a mother and a partner. You couldn't help but wonder if Yunho found you unlovable now if the changes wrought by childbirth had somehow diminished your worth in his eyes. It was a cruel thought, born out of fear and insecurity, but it lingered nonetheless, festering like an open wound in your heart. You couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness wash over you. The distance between you and your boyfriend felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow you whole.

That's why today's little nap meant everything to you. For the first time since the birth of Yunmi, Yunho was holding you like this, providing you with the comfort and warmth you longed for.

"Wait, did you hear that?" Yunho’s soft voice disrupted your nap. Not in your right state of mind yet, you just hummed against his neck, your eyes not opening even for a second. With a gentle hand, Yunho shifted you slightly, allowing himself to slip out from beneath your embrace. As he rose from the bed, you blinked groggily, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep that clung to your senses.

"What is it?" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. Yunho's expression was one of quiet concern as he motioned towards the crib.

"I think she's awake," he whispered, his tone barely audible in the dimly lit room. Your exhaustion weighed heavily on every limb, making even the simplest tasks seem daunting. With a weariness that seemed to seep into your bones, you clung to the pillows, seeking refuge in their soft embrace.

"Could you get her?" you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur, as you heard the soft cry emanating from the crib. You mustered all your strength to sit up and shake off the tiredness as you looked at Yunho standing still next to the crib, almost as if he was unable to move any closer. Each cry felt like a dagger to your heart, a reminder of your inability to provide the comfort that your daughter so desperately needed.

"I think it's better if you take her," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, his gaze fixed on the wall as if unwilling to meet your eyes. The words struck you like a slap in the face, igniting a firestorm of indignation deep within your chest. Yunho's refusal to take Yunmi stirred a storm of emotions within you. Anger, frustration, hurt—all of it boiled beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment. How could he still refuse to take responsibility for his own daughter? How could he stand there, staring blankly ahead, while you bore the brunt of exhaustion and fatigue?

"Yunho, how can you—" you began as you stood up from the bed, your voice trembling with emotion, but the words caught in your throat, choked off by the weight of your anger and hurt. Tears welled in your eyes, hot and stinging, as you struggled to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. As you approached the crib, your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you fought to maintain control. You leaned over the crib to take Yunmi into your arms and care for her. With a shaky breath, you turned away from Yunho, cradling your daughter close to your chest as you retreated to the living room. You weren't surprised that Yunho stayed behind in the bedroom, his presence a silent reminder of the distance that had grown between you. With a heavy heart, you settled onto the couch, cradling Yunmi in your arms as you prepared to breastfeed her. Your daughter's eyelids drooped as she nursed, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to her. With each gentle suckle, she grew more and more drowsy, her tiny fingers curling against your skin in a gesture of contentment. As you watched her drift off to sleep, a pang of guilt tugged at your heart. You had expected Yunho to be there for you, to support you through the challenges of motherhood, yet time and time again, he had fallen short of your expectations. Yunmi finally drifted off to sleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. With a weary sigh, you leaned back against the pillows, holding your daughter close as you closed your eyes, allowing the exhaustion of the day to finally claim you.

You opened your eyes to see Yunho carefully lifting your daughter from your arms, his movements a mix of awkwardness and tenderness. Despite his initial hesitance, there was a determination in the way he cradled her against his chest as if he wanted to make up for any shortcomings. As he tiptoed back into the bedroom, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your heart. Despite the challenges you faced, seeing Yunho taking care of your daughter for what you believed was the first time, filled you with hope for the future. You listened as Yunho gently placed your daughter in her crib, his voice humming a soft lullaby as he tucked her in. Drifting back to sleep, you were roused once more by Yunho's quiet voice emanating from the bedroom.

"I have so much I want to say to you," he whispered, his voice barely above a hushed murmur. Yunho gazed down at Yunmi, her small form tucked snugly into her crib, her chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. ''I'm so sorry for letting you, and your mommy down since day one...'' A sense of awe washed over him as he watched his daughter, the weight of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "You're my little starlight, and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. Yunmi is Daddy's precious, shining light in the darkness." He reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his touch feather-light against her soft skin. "Daddy is really so sorry," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "Sorry for all the times I've been afraid, for all the moments I've missed. I want you to know that I love you more than anything in this world, and I'll do whatever it takes to be the father you deserve." As he spoke, he felt a surge of love and determination welling up inside him, a newfound sense of purpose ignited by the presence of his daughter. In her innocent slumber, he saw the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities, a future that he vowed to protect and nurture with all his heart. "I may not have all the answers, and I will make mistakes along the way," he whispered, his voice trembling with sincerity. "But I promise to always be here for you, to love you unconditionally, and to cherish every moment we share." With a tender smile, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin for a moment longer. "I love you and Mommy so much. Sleep well, my little starlight," he whispered his voice a soft lullaby that filled the bedroom with warmth and love. "And know that Daddy will always be here, watching over you, every step of the way. From now on Daddy will do his best." As Yunho's words echoed in the quiet of the apartment, you felt a mix of emotions welling up inside you, threatening to overflow. Tears streamed down your face, unnoticed in the darkness, as a tumultuous storm of feelings raged within your heart. Anger simmered beneath the surface, directed not at Yunho, but at yourself. How could you have been so blind to his struggles, so oblivious to the pain he had been carrying? You berated yourself for not recognizing the signs sooner, for not being there for him when he needed you most. But amidst the anger, there was also a profound sense of relief—a weight lifting from your shoulders as you finally understood the depth of Yunho's feelings. For the first time since your daughter was born, you felt truly connected to him, bound together by the shared experience of parenthood and the raw vulnerability of exposing one's innermost fears. And beneath it all, there was love—a love that transcended words and actions, a love that bound you together despite the challenges you faced. Despite the tears and the turmoil, there was a sense of gratitude in knowing that you were not alone—that together, you could weather any storm that came your way.

A little while later, you heard Yunho returning to the living room, his footsteps soft against the floor. A pang of guilt tugged at your heart as you pretended to be asleep, not wanting him to know that you had overheard his heartfelt words to your daughter. You quickly wiped your tears, and kept your breathing slow and steady, willing yourself to remain still as Yunho approached the couch. Soon, his arms enveloped you in a gentle embrace, lifting you bridal-style and carrying you back to your shared bedroom. Settling you onto the bed, he tucked you in with care, ensuring you were comfortable before gently placing the duvet over you. His touch was tender, his actions speaking volumes of his love and devotion. Yunho pressed down a warm kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment against your skin.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion against your forehead. "I'm just so scared to be a father," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "Scared to hurt her, to make mistakes that she'll never forgive." You felt the weight of his fear pressing down on you, his vulnerability laying bare the depths of his insecurities. With each word, it was as if a window had been opened to his soul, revealing the raw, unfiltered truth of his innermost thoughts and feelings. "I want to be the best father I can be, but... but what if I'm not enough?" His voice cracked with the weight of his uncertainty, his words echoing in the stillness of the room. And then, you felt it—a single tear falling onto your temple, a silent testament to the depth of his pain and fear. In that moment, your heart broke for him, for the struggles he faced and the burdens he carried. "And you," Yunho continued, his voice trembling with emotion, "you've been amazing since day one. I've watched you, seen the way you care for her with such love and devotion. It's like you were born to be a mother, and... and I can't help but feel like I'm falling short." Yunho longed to be the pillar of support you needed, the rock upon which your family could lean in times of trouble. But with each passing day, the weight of his insecurities grew heavier, threatening to crush him beneath their burden. "I'm still so afraid," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper now. "Afraid of letting you down, of letting Yunmi down. But I promise, I'll keep trying. I'll do whatever it takes to be the father she deserves, even if... even if it scares me to my core." In the darkness of the bedroom, his words hung heavy in the air. "I love you so much, Y/N, and I will do better, I will be the support you need." Yunho's voice broke through the silence once again, his words filled with sincerity and remorse.

"And I love you," you finally whispered, your voice filled with tenderness and affection. With a gentle touch, you reached out to wipe away the tears that streaked Yunho's cheeks, your fingers tracing the contours of his face with utmost care.

"You've been awake the entire time?" Yunho's voice broke the silence, his words carrying a mixture of surprise and relief. A shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as he met your eyes. You returned his smile, the warmth of his presence washing over you like a gentle breeze.

"Yes," you admitted softly, your voice filled with understanding. "I heard everything." There was no judgment in your words, no recrimination for his vulnerability. Instead, there was only acceptance—a shared acknowledgment of the complexities of love and the struggles that came with it. Yunho's smile widened, a sense of gratitude shining in his eyes.

"Thank you for listening," he whispered, his lips placing yet another kiss on your forehead. "And for being here with me." You reached out to him, your hand finding his in the darkness, a silent reassurance of your love and support.

"Always," you whispered, your voice filled with unwavering devotion. "I'll always be here for you, Yunho. Through thick and thin." Yunho creased your cheek gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "And now get under the covers with me," you giggled mischievously, reaching out to pull Yunho close by his neck. With a playful tug, you caught him off guard, pulling him towards you until he landed on top of you with a soft thud. Yunho's eyes widened in surprise, a startled laugh escaping his lips as he found himself sprawled across the bed, his gaze locked with yours.

"You little trickster," he chuckled, his voice filled with amusement as he shifted to settle beside you under the covers. With a grin, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close until your bodies were pressed together in a warm embrace. The feel of his warmth against your skin sent a shiver of delight down your spine, a feeling of contentment settling over you like a soft blanket. "I haven't kissed you in forever," Yunho murmured, his voice laced with longing as he gazed into your eyes with a mixture of affection and desire. A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your heart fluttering at the thought of his lips against yours.

"Then what are you waiting for?" you teased as you leaned in closer to him. With a tender touch, Yunho cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as he drew you closer to him. And then, with a gentle tilt of his head, his lips met yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. At that moment, as you melted into each other's embrace, time seemed to stand still. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the warmth and intimacy of the moment. As you pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you felt a sense of completeness wash over you—a reminder that no matter how long it had been since your last kiss, the love you shared was as strong and passionate as ever. A playful sparkle danced in your eyes as you posed the question, your curiosity piqued by Yunho's endearing nickname for your daughter.

"If she's your starlight, then what does it make me?" you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice as you awaited his response. Yunho's gaze softened as he looked at you, a tender smile gracing his lips.

"You," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection, "you're my guiding light. The one that leads me home, no matter how lost I may feel." Your boyfriend's words washed over you like a gentle caress, filling you with a sense of warmth and love. With a smile of your own, you leaned in closer to him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

"And you," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, "you're my everything." And as you melted into each other's embrace, surrounded by the quiet intimacy of the night, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way.

The sound of Yunmi's cries pierced through the tranquility of the night, pulling you from the depths of sleep with a jolt. You moved to rise from the bed, instinctively driven to tend to your daughter's needs. But before you could fully untangle yourself from the sheets, Yunho's firm grip on your arm halted your movements.

"I'll get her," he murmured, his voice filled with determination as he gently pulled you back towards the bed. You hesitated for a moment, torn between the instinctual urge to rush to Yunmi's side and the desire to trust Yunho to handle the situation. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a steely resolve there—a determination to prove himself as a capable dad, despite his fears and insecurities. With a silent nod, you allowed yourself to sink back onto the bed, the warmth of Yunho's presence comforting you as you watched him rise to tend to your daughter. As he crossed the room to Yunmi's crib, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride welling up within you—a recognition of the strength and courage it took for him to step up and take on the role of caregiver. Yunho took her in his arms, gently and tenderly, almost as if he were afraid that his touch alone might hurt her. He held Yunmi close to his chest, rocking gently from side to side, he tried to calm his daughter, yet Yunho's panic escalated as Yunmi's cries persisted, his worry evident in the trembling of his hands and the furrow of his brow.

"Is she okay?" he asked, his voice tight with anxiety.

"She's probably just hungry," you reassured him gently as you stood up for the bed, understanding the depth of his concern. But before you could offer to nurse her yourself, Yunho's response caught you off guard.

"Oh..." he trailed off, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I can't breastfeed her," he murmured, the realization dawning on him as he grappled with the limitations of his role as a father. You reached out to him, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

"It's okay, baby," you assured him softly. "There are other ways you can help soothe her. We can prepare a bottle together, or you can hold her close while I feed her. What's important is that we're both here for her." Yunho nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and gratitude.

"Thank you," Yunho whispered, his voice filled with emotion as he passed Yunmi gently into your arms, his eyes still big with worry. "Should I prepare a bottle for her?" You smiled softly at his eagerness to help, appreciating his willingness to step up despite his initial panic.

"I think I'll just breastfeed her for now," you replied, your voice gentle and reassuring. "But thank you for offering." Yunho nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he watched you cradle Yunmi close, the familiarity of the bond between mother and daughter bringing him a sense of comfort. As you settled into the comfortable position, you nursed Yunmi, Yunho remained by your side, offering silent support and encouragement. As you nursed Yunmi, the gentle rhythm of her feeding lulled both her and Yunho into a peaceful slumber. The soft sounds of her contented suckling mixed with the steady beat of their breathing, creating a tranquil symphony that filled the room. With Yunmi cradled in your arms and Yunho nestled close beside you, you felt a profound sense of contentment wash over you. The warmth of their bodies against yours, the softness of their breath against your skin—it was a moment of pure serenity, a snapshot of the quiet joy that parenthood brought. You allowed yourself to bask in the tranquility of the moment, relishing the feeling of being surrounded by the ones you loved most in the world. In the soft glow of the morning light, you watched over them with a heart full of love, knowing that in this simple embrace, you had everything you ever needed.

"Be patient with him. He's trying," you whispered to your daughter, the words soft and tender as you gazed down at her sleeping form.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello, Mr. Neil! If it is no imposition, I'd appreciate your thoughts or advice. No hard feelings if it is, I pinky promise.

I write and, ideally, would love to do so for a living. The trouble is, I'm highkey autistic (to an often debilitating extent) and doubt my ability to write characters that'll appeal to the overwhelming majority of people. Or who, like, allegedly "normal" people will be able to see themselves in. Essentially, the fundamentally human part of writing is what's messing with me. A lot of this is, frankly, due to trauma. Communicative-based trauma, which is common in autistic people, especially late-diagnosed autists (like me.)

Most of the time, it feels/seems like I have to convince people that I'm human, at all, before they'll take what I feel/think/say/write as anything more than some half-comprehensible oddity. Idk. I'm confident when writing just for myself, but just the idea of adding an audience into this all makes me queasy and anxious. I feel like hiding. But I'd rather not become an Emily Dickinson, y'know? That seems worse than not letting people in at all.

As it is, I write poetry and heady erotic scripts, for the most part. There's a series of humanized monster novels percolating in the back of my mind. Kinky scriptwriting is fun and has potential to become an indie kinda job if I play my cards right, which is a helpful incentive. Novels and poetry are what I prefer, but them taking a backseat is probably going to be necessary. It's easy enough to appeal to people in a kinky, sexual context. That's an easier context for others to accept me in, it seems. But otherwise? That's where I faulter and doubt myself.

How do you keep self-doubt, social anxieties and overall fear from clouding your writing? Or from inhibiting the will to write, even?

You do it or you don't. There are a million reasons not to do it and not to keep doing it but you do it anyway.

Just do it, tell your stories, a word at a time, a sentence at a time, a page at a time.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Anxious | Lando Norris

WC: 1K

Lando x reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) You’re feeling anxious but lando is there to help you

Warning: Anxiety, a bit of self hate?

Masterlist

Lando Masterlist

You're a very shy person by nature, it was a wonder you and Lando were able to talk when your friends first introduced the two of you. Lando is awkward and sometimes shy, and you like to keep to yourself and very shy. But the two of you have managed to cross those awkward stages long ago, and have been dating for a couple of years. It's easy to say that you know each other so well now, especially since you moved in with Lando.

You help each other through the periods where you're stuck in your mind or where you're feeling down. Lando knows you so well that he can tell before you get into a depressive or an anxious episode, you start being withdrawn, you bite at your cuticles, you don't laugh at his jokes as loud, it's all in the little things. So when the signs start to pop up, he just hopes it's when he's not racing, so he can be there for you.

It's been a while since you felt like this, and like every time you have a period where you don’t feel anxious, you had hoped you won't have to go through this again. Lando is streaming, he's in the next room, and you're here in your shared bed, unable to get yourself to move, to get up, to open the curtains, or to just eat. You want to spend as much time with your boyfriend as you can, even if you go with him to races it's not like you're by his side the whole weekend. You're basically going with your boyfriend to work.

Your mind is raging like a storm, your thoughts are jumbled and are everywhere, tossing and turning. There's this sense of unease that just hangs heavy in the air, filling your lungs. Every breath you take doesn't feel satisfying, like no matter how much air you suck in, it's just not enough. All the what-ifs are making it hard for you to focus on anything.

You debate texting Lando, but he's been by your side the whole day and it's barely been an hour since he started the stream. Your phone is opened beside you to the chat between you and Lando, the brightness is dimmed, but it's the only source of light in the room.

How are you baby?

Do you want me to end the stream?

You barely look at the phone as your mind thinks about all the reasons lendo will leave you, how tired of you he must be and how much he hates taking care of you and you're like a kid always needing his help. Why is he keeping you around? There's nothing good about you? Maybe you should just-

"Hey, love." Lando's soft voice fills the room, you have no idea when he came in, you hadn't heard him. Lando gets on the bed. "Oh, love."

You also have no idea when you started crying, but Lando is wiping your tears away, meeting his eyes makes you cry more, Lando gently manoeuvres you so you're in his lap and he's holding you. He just holds you, and you let yourself cry. You sit there for god knows how long, Lando rocks you to the side as he shushes you, pressing small kisses to your temple.

"Do you maybe want to go sit in the living room?" Lando asked and you shake your head.

"N-no."

"It's alright, just wanted to make sure." Lando reassured you not wanting to make you feel pressured or anything. "We can sit here as much as you need."

"I'm sorry." You mumble into Lando's neck, you're hiding from the world, from him, but not from your thoughts.

"Why?" Lando is confused

"Because you're stuck here with me, its your week off and you should spend it with your friends not be stuck here with me." You tell him, Lando tries to move you but you just hold onto him not wanting to see the look on his face, Lando relents, but if you looked at him the only thing you would've seen is love, care and worry.

"Love, believe me there's nothing else I'd rather be doing than spending time with you." Lando said, squeezing you a bit more. "Believe me I'd rather look at you than those muppets, you're the most important thing in my life, and I'm not stuck with you, I'm spending time with you."

"Still, I know you had plans for this break." Your mind is not that easy to satisfy when you're feeling this anxious.

"And they all revolve around you, so when you want to spend time in, then I'm spending my time in as well." Lando manages to make you look at him, and you don't fight him this time. "Tell me, love, isn't it you that takes care of me when I'm doubting myself and when I'm having a hard time?" You nod. "We both feel anxious sometimes, and we take care of each other, we're a team and I'll be there every time and I'll never be sick or tired of taking care of you."

"I still feel bad." You mutter and Lando gives you the smallest of smiles, he pecks your lips.

"Don't, I love taking care of you." You give him an uncertain smile, Lando moves you so you're straddling him, and just hugs you, you wrap your arms around his neck loosely and hold him. Taking a deep breath of his cologne, it's the same smell on the pillows. It's a comforting smell, the smell of home. Lando's hands run up and down your back in comfort and he feels you relax against him.

"Want to watch something?" Lando asked and you nod against him. "Cars?"

"You know me so well." Your voice is still not back to normal, but it's a step, you're feeling better and with the movie Lando is sure you'll feel even better.

You're both cuddling while the movie plays on the screen, Lando ordered food, and managed to get you to eat something.

"Lan."

"Yes, love."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too."

Lengo is smiling, like he does every time you tell him you love him, it makes him so happy and giddy hearing you say those words.

Your thoughts aren't calm, you're still feeling the effects of the anxiety but it's all calmer now, it's not as intense as before. Like there's a wall being built between you and those thoughts, and that wall is called Leads Norris

Taglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Wyll, Rolan, and Zevlor react to being stuck in close proximity with gn crush?

Warnings: None!

Notes: These may be a little short/uneven, but these were so cute to write!! Anon, you've become such a prominent asker, that I'd love to give you a nickname of some sort, if you're comfortable with that! <3  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Wyll

Wyll is a gentleman about the whole situation - or at least he tries to be. He gives you as much space as he is able to, even though he's squishing himself into a corner, he's more than happy to do that so that you're comfortable.

He tries to keep up conversation with you, to try and distract from the somewhat uncomfortable situation; mostly mundane questions, like 'What's your favourite...' or 'Have you ever...' It's also partly to distract you from the fact that his cheeks are burning hotter than the hells. Who'd have thought it'd be easy to fluster the Blade of Frontiers, even if it were only slightly, by being so near to him?

He cannot take his eyes off of you. Not even for a moment. He tries, at first, but finds it astronomically difficult, and eventually just gives in. He loves gazing at you - your presence brings him such peace, even in such a compromising position such as this.

Once the two of you are found/make your way out of the confined space, Wyll apologises - even though it was not his fault - and offers to make it up to you at some point, by however you see fit.

Rolan

Rolan is entirely speechless. He cannot find the words to say anything to you, not even a half-handed snappy quip. His eyes rarely meet yours, and are rather more often aimed off to the side, or somewhere above your heads. It's... Quite awkward.

You try anything to break the silence between the two of you; "Can you move your leg, please, Rolan?" Followed by a quiet shuffle as Rolan tries to move a little bit further from you but still remain comfortable. It is of little use on either front, but he tries. Any question of "how are you feeling?" Or "You okay?" is met with either complete silence, or a quiet grunt of acknowledgement.

Rolan doesn't know what to do, he's never been in a situation like this before - much less a situation where he can't find the words to express himself. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, harder than he can recall it ever being in his life. He's entirely tense, and he has no idea what to do; his normal confident facade has completely crumbled away, leaving little besides anxiety, and a slightly fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever you speak.

The first chance he gets after the pair of you can separate, he all but disappears from view - for several hours. You had wanted to talk to him about it, but couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually you do find him, but as soon as you bring up the situation, he turns his gaze from you; "I... Would rather not dwell on the situation... If it's all the same to you." He's just too flustered still to be able to process any of it.

Zevlor

Zevlor is constantly asking how you're feeling. "Are you sure you're well?" followed a few minutes later with, "Is there anything you need? ... Yes, I am aware I can't go and get anything, but I'm sure you understand the sentiment..."

He constantly asks you if you're alright, comfortable, etc. Neither of you know how long you're going to be stuck in this situation, so is completely understanding of the constant need to shuffle to keep your limbs from going dead. This being said, he'll always tell you if he's going to try and move himself, just so that he can try not to kick you, and you can brace yourself just in case of this outcome.

He tells you of his time in Elturel before it's descent into Avernus, his time as a Hellrider, all sorts. He finds it very easy to share things with you, since he's so sweet on you - it would usually take some probing for anyone to get that kind of information out of him. But, since he would like to establish more of a relationship with you, he's willing to part with some of it.

Once the two of you are out in the open again, Zevlor double checks that you're okay. "I would have hoped to have had some of those conversations in a more... Traditional way. But, I suppose, one cannot deny the deft hands of fate, hm?"

[sweetinsaniiity]

In The Light Of Our Demise

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - photographer!wooyoung x fem!reader!Y/N x OT8Teez! (𝒶𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈) ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - fluff, friendship, unrequited love, slice of life, angst, plot twist, slow burn, friends to-strangers to-friends , moving on , happy ending (or is it?) ◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - depression, anxiety ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 23.4K ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - someone who was afraid of getting out of their comfort zone and someone who was afraid of committing to anything and anyone is never a good combination. Would Wooyoung remain in your life if you confessed? If he left, what would you do? ◄

► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Hello! This is my first fanfic, at least here on Tumblr! Cut me some slack I suppose lmao and let me know if I should continue. If so, let me know if you want to be added to my future taglist! Title from Motionless In White. ◄

I'm not God, but they're trying to kill me. This all-knowing desperation I've been feeling for quite sometime now, I mean.

I don't remember the last time I've felt this lonely. There were times where my emotions felt a little too much to handle, but not to the point that rendered me unable to want to feel alive. Today, the sadness drained through me rather than lingering outside my skin, traveling through every nerve, but to my surprise, it rather electrified me to want to do something.

That's good, right? And so I did.

"I'll be back at noon," I told my kind mother, passing through her to try and get to the door before I changed my mind.

"I'm glad you've been going out lately, honey. Let me know when you need anything, okay?" she beamed, quite pleased that I was trying to do something with my life rather than mope around in my room all day.

Oh, how clueless she was. The truth was, I didn't want to let her know about the consuming melancholy that my heart had been feeling. 

Ever since I had decided to quit my job, nothing but bad luck has been coming my way. I know it was stupid, to just up and go just because I was unsatisfied with what I was doing, but truth be told, I was not happy anymore. I could never go on doing something I truly wasn't happy with.

But I was bored out of my mind, and most of all, I felt utterly useless and hopeless. It was dangerous - the path my thoughts were taking me. It's the road that led to my burnout, and the impatience this world had always given me.

"No point in trying to convince myself that things would be different," I mumbled to myself, sitting on the park bench nearby.

Click, click

I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice that my feet took me to the park I always went to when I just wanted to be alone in my thoughts and think of my next move. I suppose I was always so discontented with my life that my body had subconsciously learned what to do on its own.

Click, click

No matter, I thought, I was the master of pushing it through. My path had been very foggy lately, anyway. I just have to be patient if the world can't do it for me so I can wait for it to clear up and show me the next adventure that lay ahead of me. 

Click, click

I frowned, what in the hell is that clicking sound I keep hearing?

I pulled my cardigan close, as if doing so would stop the exposure I suddenly felt from being out in the open. I looked around, but there was nothing. There were parents with their children, dogs with their owners, coaches with their students, and ducks with their ponds.

"Miss? You dropped this---"

"Oh my God!" I squealed like cattle about to be slaughtered as I turned around to find the source of the sudden voice. I had always been jittery, you see.

I turned around, and the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life was behind me holding what seems to be my phone. I didn't even realize that I'd dropped it while I was busy spacing out in my thoughts.

His eyes were widened, directed at me. I guess I'm not the only jittery one here. 

He had average length hair that swayed with the oncoming wind, but what set it apart was its bright red tone that was as vivid as the flowers that surrounded both of us. His lips were plump and raised into a charming smile and his steps had a bounce to them.

Oh God, be still, my beating heart. I blushed, the red tinge on my cheeks vibrant in contrast to my pale skin. I hope he can't hear how loud my heart is beating.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you," I was meeker than I usually was.

He saw the surprise register on my face before I could hide it. His smile becomes wider, I guess he gets this a lot, and the heat on my face gets warmer. If he wasn't good-looking before, he definitely was now.

"Don't worry about it, I didn't mean to scare you," he laughed, handing me my phone. I slowly took it, praying that my hands didn't shake too much.

I swallowed. Even his voice was pretty. It reminded me of soft marshmallows, so pillowy and comforting, so sweet and yet so rich at the same time. I mentally slap myself, I haven't gone out in days and the first thing I do is openly check out a guy who was nice enough to give me my phone back instead of running away with it?

My voluntary isolation sure did its number on me.

But then I saw it. There was something slinging across his shoulder - a bag. It donned a big camera that I knew for a fact was quite expensive. So that was the clicking sound I heard earlier, he was a photographer.

"Ah," he began, scratching the back of his head. "I was snapping pictures of you earlier with this." He gently pats the bag. "Would you like to see?" 

"S-Sure," I agreed, hesitant.

"I'm not a creep, I promise," he panicked, animatedly defending himself by making a point to wave his hands in front of me. I giggled a little. He was cute. "I do this for a living, street photography I mean."

"I see. I, uh, sorry to disappoint you, Mr..?"

"Oh. I'm Wooyoung. And why are you sorry? I'm the one who took photos of you randomly," he tilted his head in confusion.

"It's not that," I paused, biting my lip, not knowing how to proceed. I don't miss the way his eyes follow the movement. "I haven't been myself lately, so I probably look unfit for your photography concept..."

I wasn't trying to fish for any sort of compliment. It was true, I did look and feel like shit, to put it simply. I haven't been taking care of myself lately - my clothes were wrinkly, my hair was a bird's nest, my eyes had no life in them, and my face has been splotchy with my dark circles and zit marks.

Unlike him. He was casual, but there was coordination with his outfits, and they looked impeccably new.

"On the contrary, Miss...?"

I laughed a bit. He was cute, and very playful at the same time. What a dangerous combination. His mouth curls into a good-natured smirk. "Y/N. Drop the 'miss', it makes me feel old." 

It was his turn to laugh a bit. "On the contrary, Y/N, yours was the best photo I have taken this week."

My blush deepens immensely, more than I thought I was able to. I matched it with a small, shy smile as my eyes shone in a way that only genuine happiness and appreciation can bring.

I've always been like that. I wish I didn't get so flustered easily. In a flash, my cheeks are rosy and anyone can peek inside my emotions as I had pried my insides open so they watch for themselves.

"Somehow I don't believe that," I chuckled, mentally rolling my eyes.

"No, I'm serious, here," Wooyoung zips his bag open, brings out the expensive looking camera, and presses a button that brings it back to life. "I'll show you."

Wooyoung scoots closer to me, bringing the equipment near my face so I can see the screen. I was so embarrassed at how much I had the urge to sniff him.

He smelled so good - very musky, leathery but very clean at the same time. It gives me the image of a pure sophistication behind a light curtain that envelops you in warmth.

I let out a light gasp, complete surprise taking over the shyness I felt earlier.

There I was, staring out nowhere in particular at the bench I was brooding my bad mood off on. But it wasn't me that stole both of our attention, there was a beautiful wisteria tree I hadn't noticed before behind me.

It was beautiful. The way they cascaded into this marvelous tendrils of purple beauty blended with how forlorn my expression was; the longing, regret, and despondence clearly evident, like the slow descent of its lilac petals, way down they go.

To the naked eye, it looked like a depressed girl with a pretty tree in the background, but to me and Wooyoung, it was so much deeper than that. The photo held so much depth, because at the same time, there was relief in my features. The sadness was exquisite.

"You," I paused, swallowing to force the words out of my mouth. "You made me look human."

"What makes you think I didn't capture you because you were the most human looking in here?"

His smile was the prettiest thing I've seen in a while, prettier than the wisteria, and I can tell it was genuine. I could have melted in a puddle right there. His eyes sparkle like the night sky as he browses at each photo he had taken. He had the passion I lacked.

"Do you want copies of it?" Wooyoung inquired.

Did I want copies of it? Did I want to stare at myself and get reminded every time about how lonely my life currently was? I don't know, I wasn't the sentimental type. He senses my hesitation and frowns a bit. 

He grabs a small piece of card and hands it to me. "Here's my card," he points at it. "That's the address, come swing by whenever you have the chance and I will give it to you, okay?"

I bit my lip apprehensively with a nod, pocketing the card in my cardigan. "Alright, I will think about it."

"I hope you do," he clicks his tongue, swiping it across his bottom lip. I stopped breathing for a second. "I wouldn't want to waste such a pretty photo."

I swallowed. "A-Ah, do I have to pay for it?"

"I guess you're going to have to find out, hmm?" he smirked, gently tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "There, much better."

I froze, not really knowing what to do. I sighed softly, I have been so deprived of touch because I poured all of my time on work. Well, at least what used to be my work. 

Wooyoung juts his hand out, waiting for me to shake it. I grabbed his hand halfheartedly. "I hope we see each other again," he said.

After we said our goodbyes - him being bubbly to the very end as he walked away and me just nodding as I watched him go - I treaded my way home.

I took out the card he gave me earlier, which turned out to be a business card, I realized, and not just a personal card. Of course, Y/N, he just met you, why would he give you his personal details? As I inspected the card further, it brought me slight joy to know that his work place wasn't far from my house, just a couple of blocks away.

I was hesitant, truth be told, it was probably a one time encounter, most likely a business tactic to get someone to go into their studio and do business with them. I felt bad because Wooyoung seemed like a genuine person, but there was no way I was adding any sort of change in my current life right now, my mind was a mess as is.

With that, I crumpled up the card and threw it in the nearest bin.

I paused at the doorway, hesitating before anyone - Wooyoung - knew I was here. I knew I had to go in, and by God, I was nervous as hell. I just needed a few minutes to compose myself.

The curiosity had been eating away at me. It had been 2 weeks before deciding I would stop prancing around at it and just get it over with.

To hell with it, I thought, hastily putting on the most mediocre outfit I can get away with today. It wasn't meant to impress, a simple white tee paired with jeans and sneakers was enough to look decent and be comfortable at the same time.

Deep inside, maybe I just wanted to see the striking photographer again and hear his voice; to see his sparkling eyes that quickly held me in like a moth to a flame.

I stepped in and was immediately greeted by a myriad of photographs that were just placed where they were, the closest thing we get to a time capsule. I was immediately amazed by how versatile the photos were - all of them had their own stories to tell.

A photograph of an old, vintage clock caught my attention. I'm not very knowledgeable, but it was an antique, I was sure of it. It was made out of wood that probably looked sleek during its era. 

Unconsciously, I touched the frame, like it would come back to life if I did. Then, I saw something at the bottom right of the frame. Taking a closer look, it was a series of small letters stamped on it.

J. WY/Budapest, Hungary/2023/Paradigm

I traced the embossed letters lightly with my fingertips. It was obvious that this one was Wooyoung's piece. He had a very particular style in his art, he tended to focus on the subjects and the corresponding backgrounds were something to compliment the subject, and not to supply added detail. It was very interesting.

"I can hear the gears in your head turning from where I am."

I was a deer in headlights once more with him. "You got a thing for sneaking up on me?" I teased.

There he was in his handsome glory leaning by the door with his arms crossed. "Maybe," he smirked coyly.

My heart went up to my throat when I realized that today, his hair slicked back today. I was able to see his face clearly, his beauty was insane. Heaven knows I would look like a wet chicken. He walks steadily towards me and stares fondly at the vintage watch photo.

"I went to Budapest with all of my friends, we all work in this studio together, for a vacation," he chuckled, reminiscing. "But I couldn't resist not taking the scenery for work. God, that place was beautiful..."

Just like you.

I cringed internally, turning my head a bit away from him so he couldn't see the grimace on my face. It wasn't a lie, he was beautiful, but I wasn't going to admit that to him, or anybody for that matter.

"I like them," I thoughtfully mumbled.

Wooyoung turns to look at me, and I tried very hard not to look at him back by pretending that I was inspecting the photo furthermore. There was not a lick of knowledge in my head about photography, I hope he doesn't notice that. 

He stares for what seemed like forever, not blinking nor breathing, the effect was a slow burn waiting to incinerate the thin thread that bound us both. Although I wasn't looking straight at him, it was his lips that gave away that he knew that I knew what he was doing; he wasn't smiling, there was just a slight tilt on one corner.

"Do you, now?" he wondered, now full-on smirking.

"Yes," I affirmed. Was that rhetoric? Was I supposed to say no?

He audibly sighed, and I frowned. I know that sound, it was the sound of negative memories suddenly surging our minds, crashing in like a tidal wave, and my, once you start? They become very addicting, slowly consuming your thoughts until they become no more.

"You know, I never used to look at the photos I snap after I take 'em?" Wooyoung's smile was tinged with hurt, but more so of reminisce. "I just snap, snap, and then keep snapping and hope for the best outcome when San develops them in the back for me."

"Is that what you did when you stole those moments of mine a couple of weeks back?" I swallowed nervously, my body was already anxious and my brain is trying to catch up on it any moment now.

"No," he firmly articulated, so firmly my heart leapt to my throat and tightened it further. 

Wooyoung gently grabs my chin, turning it towards himself so I can make eye contact with him. "Because I knew you wouldn't come back to me until a few days after. I saw it in your eyes."

To him? This was the second time he stole something from me. Instead of a photo, now it was the breath from my lungs. I am on fire, my skin was burning from his touch. 

"Frankly, I wasn't expecting two weeks, that was longer than I anticipated," he chuckled lowly, his thumb caressing my cheek tenderly, and I let him. I was too frozen to protest.

"You knew all that even before you approached me that day? From that far?" I raised a brow. I was hesitant, but I was willing to play his game even though I knew he was probably bullshitting me.

"I'm a photographer, Y/N. It's my job to look through the windows of people's souls---"

"What do you want from me?"

Wooyoung lets go of my face, hands now in his pockets. He doesn't look a bit surprised, just a little concerned. "What do you mean?" he frowned, tilting his head to the side in wonder.

The paranoia in me had always been borderline terrified of not only trying new things, but also meeting new people in association. The underlying fear of deception from years and years of let down between family and friends has rendered me closed off of opening allowances to let myself experience new things and let people in.

"You act like we're friends, and we are not," I bit my lip, exasperated. "I don't like that."

"Are you saying that there are certain prerequisites to being friends with other people?" Wooyoung tuts, frowning deeper. "Everyone has to start from somewhere, no?"

He was right, I can admit that. I began to see how my self-deprecating thoughts had kept me all alone, and frankly, I was none the wiser on what it's like on the side.

"I'll tell you what, Y/N, how about I give you your photo and you can tell me what you're thinking over coffee, perhaps? I make a mean cup of coffee," Wooyoung suggested kindly, his eyes shining in anticipation for my response.

I frowned, shuffling my feet in anxiety. "What if people come inside your studio? And your friends?"

"Don't worry about that," he smiled, already taking a step towards the other room where he came from. "We actually don't open on the weekends. I just always came in because I was worried you would come looking for me when I wasn't here."

It was such a simple gesture, but it blew both my heart and my mind. My heart is so full right it could burst in any minute.

Wooyoung flashes me his million dollar smile, the one that made me want to see him again, and holds his hand out for me to grab. "Why are you hesitating?"

"I hesitate because I need to be sure because for the first time in a while, there are things that I do want, and the consequences of my errors would forever haunt me," I blurted uncontrollably, babbling before I could stop my mouth from speaking.

My mind began to work overload with anxiety but before I could act out on them, Wooyoung laughed out loud. His eyes crinkle upwards into the cutest crescents, and his beautiful lips stretched out with mirth. 

His laughter reminded me of a fox, loud and boisterous, and I couldn't help but join in with him as he warmed my soul and made my day. "You're fine, come on," he urged me in between laughter.

More photos, albeit with unfinished frames, greeted me when I followed Wooyoung into what I can only assume was the kitchen. It was small, but it was nice and actually very functional. I sat into one of the sleek, modern stools and leaned towards the small kitchen island while Wooyoung went to town and made both of us coffee.

"Sugar?" he absentmindedly asked.

"H-Huh?" I was a deer in sudden headlights.

Wooyoung seemed to be confused too as we both looked at each other in bewilderment. Without warning, his face contorts into a laughing mess again, making me blush.

"I was asking if you wanted sugar in your coffee," he chuckled. "Although if you want me to call you sugar, that could be arranged too."

I blushed even deeper, awkwardly covering my face in embarrassment. I felt the tips of my ears heat up and I must have looked so stupid in front of him. "Stop," I groaned, my voice muffled by my hands.

And being the gentleman he was, he did actually stop teasing me.

But it was mainly because he had two steaming mugs of coffee carefully balanced with his two hands as he walked towards me. I mumbled a 'thanks' when I received mine. 

"Now we can talk about why you're very sad," Wooyoung took a sip from his mug without breaking eye contact with me. I gulped.

My brows shot upwards in surprise and my eyes widened in apprehension at the same time. "How did you know I was sad?" I inquired, not sure on how to react.

Wooyoung smiled mischievously. "I just do," he winked.

Having no choice, and frankly having no one to talk to in general, I told him everything. I told him how I had quit my previous job because I was beginning to feel very unhappy with the toxicity that surrounded me and how suffocating it was to stay in a place where you weren't even wanted.

I told him how I was trying to look for another job, but the fear of trying a new one and not being sure if it was a good suit for me was a little daunting, so to speak.

He listened attentively to each word I said, not once interjecting to put his two cents in before I was done finishing, and only asking me some small questions for the sake of clarification. 

It almost makes me want to cry at how attentive he was to me, even though this was only the second time we're meeting. The way his eyes bore into me while I poured my heart out, the way he would nod and acknowledge the things I would say, he was such a good listener.

I can't say I've had too many good friends in my life, though there have been a few close ones, they were not enough for me to say that they were good to me. Wooyoung seemed to be a rare gem, one that I would love to keep for myself.

"What if I told you I know a place where you can start working?"

"You do?" I was hopeful.

Wooyoung nodded. "But are you sure you're going to be okay going to work so soon again?"

My chest warms up with his words. "I have to do it," I sighed deeply. "Y-You were right, if I don't start now, then I won't start at all."

He smiles broadly. "That's a good outlook, I like that..."

He proceeded to tell me about the boutique down the street a couple of blocks away from his studio and they were looking for someone to keep tabs of sale and returned products. As it turned out, the owner was Wooyoung's very close friend and the boutique was where they get their clothes and props whenever they had a photoshoot going on.

"He's a nice guy and I'm positive he'll like you, just let me call him so I can pitch in a word for you, hmm?" Wooyoung pulled his phone out and was about to dial the number, but I interjected before he could do it.

"W-Wait, don't do it," I squeaked, holding my hands out to him to stop him from doing so.

"What's the matter?" Wooyoung's eyes softened at my panicked state and I almost felt bad. I barely knew this man and he probably thinks I'm so pathetic already. It was disheartening.

"You've helped me so much already, I'd feel bad if you did this for me," I admitted.

"And what exactly have I done for you?"  

"Listening to me rant was a big thing for me, and you do make a mean coffee," I giggled, he smiles shyly. "And you gave me justice on the photo you took of me."

"Speaking of that," Wooyoung stood up from his stool. "Wait here."

He left to go back to the front entrance of the studio, and he came back immediately. "Here."

He nudged a square-shaped packaging in front of me. I took it and from touch, I knew it was a picture frame that he had wrapped so carefully and perfectly, there were no creases on the wrap. My heart was beating so fast and my fingers were shaking ever so slightly.

"Open it when you get home," he instructed. "And I'm going to call him, my friend I mean. If I'm helping you anyway, I might as well go all out on it." 

"It's not a big deal," Wooyoung continued when I didn't respond, playfully flicking my forehead. "What are friends for?"

An explosive sensation boomed its way into my head all the way down to my chest, leaving a searing type of numbness in its trail. "Okay," I mumbled.

Unfortunately, I had to say goodbye to him because I told my mother I was only picking the picture frame up, I was not expecting to stay this long, so she was probably worried. Fortunately, Wooyoung understood and walked me out. We couldn't properly converse afterwards anyway because a client of his suddenly called out of the blue after he had dropped the call with his boutique owner friend.

We said our goodbyes and I speed walk all the way to my house with the carefully wrapped picture frame in my hands. There was an explosion in my brain - the good kind - and a surge of excitement that electrified my whole being. I could feel it in my bones.

This is the very time I have ever been excited with a mystery. I hated surprises growing up because I was scared I wouldn't like the surprise.

With no time to waste, I quickly locked myself in my room, taking all of my clothes off in a haste and replacing them with something more comfortable and nap worthy. I unwrapped the gift like an animal tearing its prey apart to find their treasure inside.

Tears found their way in my eyes. I had no words, the photo itself was beautiful, I had seen it before, but Wooyoung had left a small note taped on the frame for me to read when I opened it.

You're worth more than you think. Wanna hang out tomorrow, beautiful? I also make mean brownies ;)

I completely broke down, hysterically crying not from sadness, but from the joy of the events that have been happening to me. Maybe being his friend wasn't so bad after all.

"So you must be Y/N, correct?"

Having a direct connection like Wooyoung did wonders from my interview process and I was called exactly a week after he made the call. 

"Y-Yes, I am," I did a deep 90 degree bow immediately, but not before the man's eyes widened a bit. "L/N Y/N, Sir. I'm very h-honoured to be chosen for this role."

Needless to say, I am a nervous wreck. Wooyoung conveniently forgot to tell me that this was no ordinary boutique. It's a very well known fashion brand that had the catchy 'started from the bottom, now we're here' origin story.

I opened my eyes, I didn't notice they were tightly shut before, when I felt hands nudging me to stand up straight. "It's okay," he laughed. "I don't bite, please stand up..."

This one was handsome as well. He had an edgier style to him that was unique to him and him only. Think bold, defiant, and unconventional. His blue hair added to that grunge aesthetic.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Kim Hongjoong, owner, and your future boss," he grinned.

My face pales a bit. The Kim Hongjoong? The great mind behind the boutique NO1LIKEME? The one Wooyoung had casually called and got me in? What has my life become in a month?

"Scaring the new girl already, Joong?"

I turned around, and a taller man with dark hair and almond shaped eyes smiled lightly at me with his thick lips. I almost rolled my eyes, either I'm losing my mind, or Wooyoung, himself, and all of his friends are all damn attractive.

"Oh, this is her?" he pointed at me, to which Hongjoong nodded. "I see. Song Mingi, thank you for considering us."

Thank me? I scoffed internally, the co-founder of NO1LIKEME is thanking me for working with them? I suppose that was why they were successful.

Mingi excused himself to man the business while Hongjoong had toured me around the shop. It was a lot bigger on the inside than I had initially thought.

I couldn't help but become very excited as Hongjoong showed me how he personally designs most of their pieces without trying to mass produce the majority of their products, which was very respectable on his end because mass producing can downgrade their quality.

The brand that I only reached in my dreams is now my workplace. I have to thank Wooyoung personally when I see him again.

They needed someone to do inventory checks and match them with the accountancy department. Hongjoong has a big project coming soon to collaborate with an international brand and Mingi has to take over for now while he's abroad. Fair enough.

As we were about to go into his office to sit down and discuss further, I stopped in my tracks. The most gorgeous black, flared dress was hanging in one of the posts. It's very simple, but very versatile, not too long as it stopped above the knee, and the sheer bodice elevated it.

"You like it?" Hongjoong asked before I had the chance to feel the fabric.

"I love it, actually. I've never seen anything like it," I admitted.

He chuckled, plucking the dress from its hanger and handed it to me gently after he folded it in half. "Make sure it's well-loved, then, because it's yours now."

"W-What?" I spluttered, eyes wide open. "No, I was just admiring it, I can't possibly take it. C-Can I pay for it, at least?"

"Think of it as your first day perk," he shrugged. "And no offense, giving away one dress isn't going to make a dent in my business."

I blushed, embarrassed to the highest degree. I was just about to thank him profusely when Mingi suddenly popped his head by the door.

"They're here," was all he said before Hongjoong and I walked back into the main part of the shop.

And there he was - Wooyoung. He was in an engrossed conversation with Mingi along with another - surprise, surprise - handsome man. He had a manlier aura to him compared to the other three, which was an interesting mix to his feline features.

Wooyoung, as if sensing I was present, turned to my direction and the look in his eyes made my insides churn in excitement. His friends were all pretty, but none of them had an effect on him like he did.

"Hey Joong," Wooyoung greeted after approaching me and Hongjoong from across the boutique. He smiled even brighter as he ruffled my hair lightheartedly. "Are you taking care of my Y/N?"

I blushed beet red, lowering my gaze with a nervous laugh to avoid any sort of eye contact. He can't just say these things and not expect me to react! The cat-looking man Wooyoung was with smirks at me, clearly amused.

But maybe, it was just me putting more to it than I should. Wooyoung has been nothing but kind to me and I can't reciprocate that with anything other than gratefulness.

"Get the hell out of here," Hongjoong chided, rolling his eyes, but teasingly because his eyes were full of the same mischief, but they were gone when he turned to me. "My assistant, Jongho, will call you sometime this week so you can get started officially."

I stopped the urge to bow deeply again at him as he turned around to go back behind the shop and instead repeated multiple 'thank yous' at him to express my gratitude. 

"Y/N, this is San, my long time friend and co-worker in the studio," Wooyoung introduced me to the other guy he was with when there were just the three of us left.

San smiles and his deep dimples pop out along with it. He nods in acknowledgement. "Very nice to meet you, Y/N, I personally loved that one photo of yours that Wooyoung took."

"He is a good taker," I shyly replied, blushing at the compliment, although I knew it wasn't directly referenced to me.

San snorted. "Yeah, that's the only thing he's good at."

"Hey!"

Wooyoung playfully swatted San's bulky arms in defense. We all had a small laugh before they both noticed the bag I was holding with the dress inside of it. I simply told both of them that Hongjoong had just given it to me after I admired it.

Behind the strict demeanor of being a boss, was the very generous and giving nature of Hongjoong, apparently. He had meant to give me something anyway simply because I was now friends with them, and also because Wooyoung spoke highly of me. I slightly felt bad because really, I would have been fine without it.

I should have thanked him more before he left.

"I would love to stay with you both and hang out," San glances at his phone to check the time. "But I have business to attend to. Where's Mingi?"

I pointed at some random door where I saw the latter enter earlier. I was about to leave since technically today wasn't my first day, just an introduction to the shop, and was about to basically run back to my house, when Wooyoung follows me out the door and slings his arms across my shoulders.

"Oh, you're leaving San?" I halted on my tracks, blushing profusely like some hormonal teenager that's never been touched by the opposite sex before.

"He was never meant to come," he chuckled. "I was about to fetch you and he decided he was going to come with me since he has to pick up some props from this gig we have next week."

My heart was pounding against my chest like a bird wanting to be out of its cage. He was so close to me, so close I could smell his breath, his body heat seeping into my subliminal thoughts.

This was an invasion, an unwanted intimacy. How have I lived without it for so long?

"Are you tired?" Wooyoung suddenly asked, breaking my thoughts apart and scattering them with the wind.

"N-No, not really. Why?"

He pulls me closer, my body plush against his. I wanted to melt. "Good," he grinned. "Let's go."

He starts to walk, but I plant my feet firmly on the ground. "Woah, wait, where are we going?"

"Would you say yes if I said I already reserved a spot to this brunch spot?"

I blinked owlishly at him. "No, I can't, I already ate before I called Mingi..."

The truth was, I was slightly ashamed to go. The last thing I wanted was to be treated like some sort of charity case. 

Also the reason being, no matter how hard I try, I will think of this as a date.

Wooyoung pouts, his hold on me loosening a bit. "Pretty please? What, are you sick of me already because we hang out everyday now?"

My breath hitched, and I was this close to giving in, but I must prevail and resist those big, beautiful eyes that were holding me captive like a tight vice.

"Maybe next time---" I sheepishly began to say, but a prominent growl made both me and Wooyoung freeze.

I cursed under my breath in shame. My stomach had growled, begging to be fed, and had basically called me out on my lie.

"Yeah, you ate alright," Wooyoung sarcastically remarked.

The next thing I knew, Wooyoung had pretty much dragged me to this retro looking place. It was the opposite of intimate and warm, rather, it was very bright and lively, filled with colorful tables, a snack bar, and the entire wall was made to be a canvas for purposeful graffiti.

Immediately, we sat at the very end of all of the available tables and no time was wasted when we ordered something quick, yet filling for the both of us; a clubhouse sandwich for me and a cheeseburger for Wooyoung.

"This place is so nice, where'd you find it?" I was still mesmerized by the whole setup.

"Picked it out with you in mind," he smirked.

Instead of blushing like I usually do, I let out a genuine laugh. "Seriously," I shook my head playfully.

"I am serious," he expressed with a slight frown.

"Are you like this with all the people you meet?" I mused, curious on what he has to say.

"Like what?"

"You know, you are a very touchy-feely person, certainly very outgoing as well. Do you usually hang out with everyone like this?"

He paused, staring at me with a blank expression. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly drying up, my breath slowing down.

"Yes, I am," he articulated after a while. "I was born this way I suppose, I swear I don't purposely flirt with everybody I meet."

"Oh," I murmured.

My heart sank, it felt like concrete weighing it down. The high of being out with Wooyoung in one moment was cut down the next. Is this what heartbreak felt like?

A hand on top of mine fully enveloped it with warmth. "But you," Wooyoung's thumbs caressed my knuckles with a small smile. "You're different. I can't explain it, Y/N, I've been trying to reason with myself."

"What do you mean?" It was my turn to ask.

His hand squeezed mine, but I felt like my heart got squeezed instead. "Meeting you was unexpected, but I'm so sure it was written. You're very easy to talk to, and I feel like I'm someone and more. It's either you or I'm alone, do you understand what I'm getting at?"

Of course I do. There has not been a day where we haven't seen each other ever since I stepped foot in that studio.

"I do," I nodded my head, smiling purely at him. "I felt good with you in a way I haven't before with other people, Woo. Thank you for approaching me that day, I'm glad to be your...friend."

His eyes widen a bit and he freezes. "What?" I nervously asked. He giggled like a child with no worry, he was just happy. 

"You called me 'Woo', I like it." 

I nervously laughed, mumbling a little yeah. I didn't even notice.

Luckily for me, our food came in and swooped me out of an incoming awkward conversation, at least on my end.

I couldn't help but let out an endearing smile as I watched Wooyoung thank the waiter kindly and then drool at his cheeseburger. Everything about him was so captivating; he felt like a warm, cozy home.

For now, the glue keeping my heart together is strong. He deserved a good friend, and I will be that for him. 

Wooyoung opened his mouth midair when he caught me staring at him. "Dig in, your food will get cold," he mused with concern.

I nod my head at him with a smile. I think he and I are going to be fine.

Approximately seven months have passed by since that fateful day. Passing each time with Wooyoung, in the most obscure of situations, made my heart yonder and sing in tunes I never knew were so melodious.

"You know what I've been thinking lately?" Wooyoung mumbled all of a sudden.

He was currently laying on my lap while I played with his hair with one hand and held a book near to my face with the other. "What were you thinking, Woo?"

Safe to say, we've gotten so close with each other, soaking into moments enveloped in warmth, and the happiness was the contentment I never knew I'd ever feel in this lifetime.

Chasing time next to him was my salvation; my heaven on earth.

"Do you have a goal in this life?"

I raised a brow at the sudden question, peeking at him from where I was. He was already staring at me from below, and my blushing cheeks never really got better.

"Too deep of a question this morning," I chuckled. "But what do you mean? Everyone has a goal in life, whether they know it or not."

"True, but what I meant to say is, have you ever had a list of things you wanted to do? Regardless of how weird they are or how unattainable, do you know what I'm trying to say?" Wooyoung, and he did, he was always so dramatic about it.

I gave him a hum before responding. "Are you having an existential crisis?"

"Maybe," he laughed in that contagious, fox-like laugh of his. "So do you?"

"I-I have this small bucket list from when I was like 10," I admitted, lifting my book to hide my face.

Suddenly, it was yanked from me and thrown across the room. My mouth hung in shock. "Wooyoung!"

"Pay attention to me," he pouted.

"What the hell are you? A baby?" I rolled my eyes so far back up my head I was surprised they didn't get stuck behind my head.

"Only if it's yours--ow!" I yanked his hair in warning before I exploded from all the constant flirting. Some things never change.

"Anyway," I paused a bit to think, but decided to just say what was on my mind in the end. "I want to go to Mars."

I held my breath, expecting to hear an obnoxious cackle from Wooyoung, but there was nothing. When I glanced down, there he was - waiting expectantly for me to continue.

"I've always wanted to see a rainbow at nighttime, and no, the Aurora Borealis doesn't count."

"Interesting," he whispered. "Keep going."

The way Wooyoung was looking at me with a soft expression, and I must have looked dumb - my eyes were dilated a bit, dazed, like my brain was having a short circuit.

"Last, I gulped. "I want to hold my breath for a minute straight."

He raised his brows in amusement. "I'm not good at doing it," I defended myself, slightly embarrassed. "The most I've done was 15 seconds."

Wooyoung didn't say anything, he just stared at me intently in the eye as if he was counting all the eyelashes I had attached. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. I frowned.

"What about you?" I softly asked. "Anything you'd like to do?"

It takes a solid minute for him to reply. "No, nothing in particular," he mumbled, his voice strained. "I don't like committing to something for a long time, you know that."

Indeed, I do. Once again, the shattering reality of how temporary all this was for the both of us was tearing me in two.

"There's just so much out there, you know?" Wooyoung continued. "So much to see, so much to feel, how can I just stay in one place?"

Wooyoung loved photography above anything else and was willing to spread his wings and venture out to find the perfect piece. He disliked committing his all in one place in case he had to leave one day. 

I remember the exact night we talked about it, a rainy day in July where we got too sentimental. I felt like choking, but there was nothing I could do, for this man was not mine to begin with.

"You know I will support you in whatever you want to do," I forced a smile on my face even though my mouth was on fire and my tongue hurt from the lies.

Wooyoung, again, stared at me intently. I blushed deep red, it looked like he was gazing through my skin and peeking through the darkest, deepest parts of my soul. The heat from his hooded eyelids emanated conflicted emotions, and then I saw it die as quick as it came.

"I know."

His sudden playful smirk painting his beautiful face throws me for a whiplash. Whatever that was, never happened.

He whips his phone out and starts tinkering with it with a concentration that looks too good on him - his stupidly attractive arms get veinier when he's concentrating and his brows furrowed together.

"Mars, huh?" he muttered, smirking, still not looking up from his phone.

"Yes? Don't make fun of me," I frowned.

"I'm not," he retorted. I looked at him in disdain. "I'm really not, I swear!"

I chose not to reply. Typical Woyooung, but that's what makes him so damn loveable; he was just being himself.

A couple of minutes later, Wooyoung pockets his phone, stands up dramatically, and hovers over me. "Get dressed," he said. "We're going somewhere."

I blinked repeatedly at him, and some more. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"What's wrong with my outfit right now?" I gestured to my oversized shirt and leggings.

He snorted comically. "Trust me, you're gonna need more than that."

Wooyoung saw the hesitation in my eyes. He hated committing as much as I hated trying new things. He extends his hand in front of me. 

"I've never led you astray, you know that," he whispered.

I nodded, taking his hand in mine. Even before he had asked, I was doomed anyway. How could I ever say no to him?

Turns out he was right - I did need the extra layers.

It was, indeed, very cold right now. Wooyoung and I were currently in line, a line so long that it reached the outside of the establishment, and it was where we currently were.

"Woo, are you sure about this?" I asked through gritted teeth. "It's too windy, I think my fingers will fall off soon."

As if on cue, he pulls me closer to him. "It shouldn't take too long," he mumbled. "You okay?"

I nodded, humming a reply back at him. As long as I'm with you, everything will be alright...

"I must say," I began. "I didn't take you to be the museum type of guy."

Yes, we were currently in line to get inside this museum I have never ever seen before even though I've lived in this city my whole life. Wooyoung got both of us last minute tickets. The place was currently jam packed, the line was endless from behind us.

"I'm not," he shrugged. "I want to show you something."

My mind went into overdrive when Wooyoung quickly glanced at me before he looked back at the pamphlet he was holding. It was only a split second, but it was enough for me to infer the anticipation he had for this.

It was contagious and the dread I felt ebbed away.

"History and geology are both at the far right, art is by your left, cartography is unfortunately out of service indefinitely, and science is just straight ahead..."

The monotonous, robotic voice from the speaker all over when we got inside could have instructed better, but it was definitely better than getting lost. This place was massive.

"Let's go," Wooyoung enthusiastically grabbed my hand as we explored all the things we passed by.

"Oh Woo, look at that!" I giggled uncontrollably and hastily pointed out what I saw.

It was a life sized wood carving of a wisteria tree - the most beautiful thing I have ever seen as of late. Wooyoung squeezed my hand as we both approached it, reveling at the detail of whoever was its creator.

"Reminds you of something, doesn't it?" he smirked.

"How can I forget how we met?" I playfully rolled my eyes.

He laughed out loud, causing some people to look our way, but we couldn't care less. "As much as I want to stay, there's somewhere else we have to be," he winked.

He led me to the direction he, then, wanted to go. The way he pulled me with him made my heart swell. At the very moment, I blocked all the sounds, the chatter, from the background and I could only see him. 

Just when I felt like leading my heart somewhere else, he pulled it back towards him; a magnet I had no choice but to get attached to.

"W-Wooyoung?"

My eyes widened in disbelief when we stopped at something in particular. "I-Is this w-what I think it is?" I stuttered uncontrollably, gripping his hand tighter and tighter until he put his other hand on top of mine to stop me from shaking.

"Relax," he cooed. "And yes, it most certainly is."

Wooyoung had led me to the science section of the museum where there was a small room we could go inside - a planetarium. Today they just so happened to be exhibiting the planet Mars.

Wooyoung took me to Mars.

"Shall we go in?" Wooyoung gently guided me inside. My legs were weighted with lead, I couldn't do this on my own.

My breath came out in short intervals, my feelings overwhelming my sense of excitement muddled into a plate full of shock, confusion, and joy as I looked around the place with Wooyoung still holding my hand in his as if he knew I'd fall without him.

The whole room had a blue haze to it, the ceiling itself was a cool shade of midnight blue with little specks of white dots that were presumably the stars in the night sky. 

They covered the whole blue like snowflakes, and they would twinkle, or rather, blink at us, watching what we would do next.

I turned to look at Wooyoung, and my tears started to fall on their own. There was panic in his eyes, but he pulled me into a quick hug, and I hugged him back just as tight.

We didn't say a word, just basking in our body heat together with the stars as our witness.

He kissed my forehead tenderly before pointing out to a distance. "Look."

I gasped rather dramatically - it was Mars itself!

Or at least, a really big ball that was probably made out of styrofoam and dyed into the shade of rust red that mimicked the real deal.

"Before we go there, wipe your tears, jelly bean. I want you to be happy today..."

But he wiped my own tears for me anyway. Oh Wooyoung, I thought with dread. How do you expect me to not selfishly wish for you to stay instead of finding your own dreams?

Instead of a repeating robot telling everybody Mars' information, luckily it was an actual person making a presentation, like that of a tour guide but this one instead explained the planet with so much depth and detail.

Wooyoung makes an exaggerated "ah!" sound when the lecturer explains that the reason why Mars was red was because of the oxidation happening in regolith, the soil on the said planet, and thus making it appear red.

"Does anybody know how many moons the planet Mars has?" the lecturer had questioned with a pleasant smile.

"Two!" a teenager from the crowd had answered.

"Correct! Does anybody know what they're called?"

The crowd made confused noises and everyone seemed to be stumped for answers. I looked around and nobody seemed to know what they were, and even Wooyoung mutters something about not knowing that even moons had names. I sighed, mentally preparing myself so I don't get nervous.

"Phobos and Deimos," I had managed to answer without stuttering.

The lecturer looked surprised, but happy nonetheless that at least someone in the crowd knew. "That is correct!"

"Nerd," Wooyoung snickered. I elbowed him, too happy to let his jokes get to me.

When it got too crowded, we both decided to leave the museum as a whole. One thing we both had in common was that after a while, the air got stuffy when there was too much going on in one place.

The bus ride home was silent, but comfortable, and in reality, we were both too tired to talk anyway. With an adrenaline of short-lived bravery, I leaned my head against Wooyoung's shoulder. I sighed in relief when he didn't push me away.

"Did you have fun?" he asked with genuine curiosity when we both reached my front door.

"Did you?" I asked back with an equal amount of curiosity.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I did, why wouldn't I?"

"You really didn't have to do this---"

He put his finger against my lip, effectively shutting me up and shutting my brain off as well. "Why can't you just enjoy the things I do for you?"

Because I am slowly getting more and more delusional with every single second I spend more with you and I keep imagining of what we would be like a few months from now- am I going to be alone again or will you remain in my life---

I shook my head to rid myself of the nastiest thoughts that keep coming through my psyche, but along with those was another burst of blood rushing to my brain that makes me do the unthinkable.

"Woah, woah," Wooyoung voice out, amused that I was initiating skin contact first. 

"Just shut up and let me hug you," I voiced out, but it came out muffled because my face was currently buried in his chest. "Thank you, Wooyoung, thank you very much, you have no idea what this means to me."

Wooyoung rocked me back and forth, healing my inner child. "I think I do," he whispered so softly I almost didn't hear him. "Just let it out..."

It was the first time he ever saw me cry willingly. The hands that patted my back provided me the solace I currently needed. They were gentle, soothing even. He had always been so patient with me, and those hands... 

Of all the things my hands have held, the best by far was his.

I felt selfish, so damn selfish, for feeling this way. But it's okay, none of it matters at this moment.

Hey, ladybug. I don't think I'm able to make it in time today, or at all. Client is being finicky and all, I'm about to charge them extra for this. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you soon, hmm?

                         - J. WY

I heaved a loud, disappointed sigh as I locked my phone before pocketing it. My frown deepens and my brows knit in today's unexpected turn of events.

"That Wooyoung?"

"Yeah, says he can't make it today. Something about a shitty client," I shrugged.

I had invited Wooyoung last week to my family's dinner reunion. My whole family had taken a liking to Wooyoung - who wouldn't? - and my brother had suggested I invite him. This year, we were at our Uncle Yeonjun's place.

"It's not the end of the world," my brother teased.

I snorted loudly. "That obvious, Yeo? You look more crestfallen than I do."

Yeosang laughs heartily, taking a sip at whatever concoction our mother made. "I mean, I've only known him longer than you," he joked. 

It turned out that Woyooung was part of my brother's friend group, talk about coincidence. "Besides, you gotta cheer up before anyone notices," he added.

"Why?"

"Because you look like a lovesick puppy that got abandoned by its owner," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "No offense to our cousins, but they can be do damn nosy, especially Soobin and Kai."

I knew that Yeosang was just trying to distract me from whatever I was feeling. As per his advice, I faked a smile just so nobody questions why I'm feeling so down.

Wooyoung was currently out of town and had been so busy with his job so we haven't really seen each other for a couple of days now, however we do call each other every night.

My train of thoughts were squashed when Yeosang elbows me gently. "Hey," he said with a soft smile. "You want to get us food so I take you home?"

If I were to write on a piece of paper of how much my older brother has done for me, the trees would cease to exist from all the paper and wood for all the pencils.

The night wasn't all that bad, Yeosang did everything in his power to distract me and even brought our cousins into it, not that they knew what was up. We took the party to the backyard, just singing, dancing, and fooling around like the young adults we were.

The little reunion was family, music, and food. It was simple, memorable, and destined to make me forget for a little.

The night had to end, and that meant I had to go home alone to my thoughts. My parents will stay overnight and Yeosang did not live with us anymore.

The jingle of the front door's keys only solidified the loneliness that awaited for me from behind it.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I can just drive early in the morning," Yeosang suggested as we both walked in the house and closed the door behind him.

"Yeo, I'm not a child anymore," I chuckled. "I appreciate it, but you should go, you have work tomorrow, yes?"

"Well, yes, but---"

"Then get your ass out of here."

Yeosang rolled his eyes at my teasing tone, but ended up laughing anyway. He pulled me in for a quick hug and pecked cheek. "Call me if you need anything."

He was gone within a minute, and once again, I was left alone with my despair. And what better way to shower these thoughts out?

But that made it worse. The involuntary shower thoughts were poison to my already weak mind.

I've conquered the art of being alone, and now that I had Wooyoung with me, it never really made things easier. My endless days filled with cold fire were quickly replaced with warm companionship...

I felt like an empty box without him. It was ridiculous, really, I knew this was wrong; a mistake I knew I wasn't supposed to feel.

I missed him.

Ding, ding, ding

I had just finished dressing up when I heard the doorbell ring. Confused, I slowly treaded my way downstairs. My parents weren't supposed to be home and Yeosang would have called beforehand if he forgot something.

The doorbell rings again, more hurriedly the second time. Screw it, I thought apprehensively. Yeosang is in charge of my obituary if I unfortunately pass away tonight...

With a deep breath, I swung the door open, my eyes tightly shut. Yeah, I know, serial killers would love me.

Silence. I knew somebody was in front of me, but they weren't saying anything. My mind caught up with the stupidity of my actions and I froze. Is this how I die?

"A-Are you okay?"

That squeaky voice, that sounds so familiar. I wanted to smack my head, I missed him so much, I was hearing him.

"Nice tits, Y/N."

My eyes shot open so fast that the light came in a bit faster than I expected to and I became a little dizzy. My brain buffers while my thoughts try to catch up. After I realized what I just heard, I took a closer look in front of me.

I let out a little gasp. "W-Woo?" I whimpered pathetically.

There he was, standing at my doorway, 9 o'clock in the evening. My heart lurched at the sight of him - so ethereal.

There was nothing specific to him that made him so stunning to me, maybe it was his iconic red hair, or maybe the way he looked at me right now would be close. They were intense, yet gentle. Polite, but not noble. 

I blushed, wanting to cover up, but his eyes held me hostage. They trailed from my face, slowly down my neck, to my exposed cleavage, before bringing them back up again to look at me, the unmistakable hunger in those orbs very much present.

"Y/N," Wooyoung drawled out without breaking eye contact, sticking his tongue out to lick his bottom lip excruciatingly slow for my sanity. "Let me in."

A sudden wave of nausea hits me, rendering me weak in his mercy as I finally feel my brain melt in my head. What the hell.

His kissable lips pulled up slowly to a smirk, mischievous, and we were both released from that little cage of sin we almost trapped ourselves in. 

Woooyoung laughs out loud. "You should have seen your face," he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

My face reddens both in embarrassment and mild anger. Against my better judgment, I move to slam the door to his face. "You!" I hissed menacingly.

"Wait, wait!" he panicked, quickly stopping the door from completely closing by putting his boots in between. "I'm sorry! You just looked so far away, I couldn't help but tease you--"

"Not helping your case, Woo--"

"I traveled here in two hours from a place that would have taken three," he whined, grabbing my hand from the outside. "Please?"

I let out a very loud exaggerated sigh before I let go of the door. Besides, he might not look like it, but Wooyoung was built. He could have pushed the door forcefully if he really wanted to.

"Sorry," he giggled, hugging me from behind with his head resting on top of my head. "Turn around for me?"

I'm so ashamed of how weak I had become with him, but what can I say? 

I buried my head on his chest, inhaling the scent that I missed so much - warm and clean - and everything hit me all at once.

He really was here with me. I was so happy that I almost felt sick and anxious. It comes off as a raging storm in my heart that was almost painful. The unbelievable sorrow I've gone through the last few days melted away in Wooyoung's blissful embrace.

"Did you drink tonight? How'd you get home?" he inquired after we pulled away.

"I did, and Yeosang took me home."

"Oh? Is he here? I didn't see his car outside."

I explained that Yeosang had to go back to his apartment because he had to work in the morning. He nodded intently, humming to himself.

"I have a surprise for you," he smiled, lifting the duffel bag he had bought with him. "How about you nap a bit while I prepare this?"

The next thing I knew, Wooyoung was already building a makeshift bed out of the couches we had in the living room so I could lay on them real quick.

The light pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the windows were the ones that woke me up. They have been falling steadily without fail before I opened my eyes. 

I would have been content staying in the warmth of the blankets, to grab a mug of tea and feel the soothing coldness of the breeze hit my nose as I inhaled deeply.

But I had to find Wooyoung. It wouldn't be too difficult, I knew exactly where he was. He loved the rain, you see.

A tender smile creeped up on his face when he noticed me sitting beside him on one of the stools on our roofed backyard. "You're awake," was all he said.

"How long was I out?" I groggily asked, swallowing the aspirin tablets he handed out. "Thanks."

"Not too long," he handed me a tall glass of water. "Close to an hour and a half, maybe."

"You were working while I was napping?" I gestured to the setup he had in front of us. Various strips of undeveloped films were strewn all over along with a camera I did not recognize, and...a glass pyramid?

"Nice paperweight," I pointed at it, a little hurt that even though he came for me, his focus was still on his work.

Wooyoung chuckled lightly. "No work, not necessarily," he shook his head. "That's not a paperweight. Why don't you be a doll and pick it up for me?"

I could feel the tips of my ears warm up but I picked up the pyramid anyway. It was a lot lighter than I initially thought it would be.

I looked at Wooyoung in confusion when he suddenly pointed out to the moon. "See the small beam of light coming down?" 

I nodded. Indeed, the moon seemed brighter today. It looked more beautiful than the stars that surrounded it. "That," he gestured to the triangular glass I was holding. "That is a prism, and I want you to put it where the moonlight is."

I frowned. "What?"

"If you're worried about the rain, you don't have to put it directly under it, just a small light would do," he bargained, chuckling at my confused face.

I did what he said, apprehensively stretching my hand out to put the so-called prism under the moonlight. I smiled a bit, I will admit, the combination of the rain and light hitting its surface made it look extremely breathtaking.

I tilted it slightly to catch the different angles since I realized each angle made it glow in different shades of lights. One flick of my wrist shone a colourful beam of light that landed on the ground. 

"Wow," I breathed out. "That's beautiful, Wooyoung."

He smiled back. "Keep tilting."

Suddenly, an arc formed from the prism to the ground beneath me. I was in awe, this one had different colours to it. From red to yellow to purple, it shone clearly against the rain. I giggled, it reminded me of rainbows. If only it was daytime...

I gasped, dropping the prism on the ground with a loud clunk. My face was drained of blood as I turned sharply to Wooyoung with wide eyes. But he wasn't worried about my pale state. His smile shone brighter than any prism out there. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to take a photo of his charming smile.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he grinned, picking up the prism and tilting it himself against the rain and the light.

I've always wanted to see a rainbow at nighttime, and no, the Aurora Borealis doesn't count."

"Interesting," he whispered. "Keep going."

"You remembered, oh my God, you remembered..." I sniffled, burying my face in my hands.

"Why wouldn't I?" he smiled, pulling me in for a hug.

Wooyoung kissed my forehead delicately with great care and the look he gave me was something I will never forget.

We spent the next hour or so playing with different shapes of prisms that Wooyoung bought from where he went. The client he had earlier owned a glass manufacturing company and Wooyoung requested for these to be made as a form of payment.

This rainy day soaked all the memories we had made for both of us, providing us the soundtrack we deserved, and it was unlike any other. I laughed like I never laughed before at this crazy little daydream, wishing it would last forever.

And soon, I learned to love the rain like Wooyoung. There will never be a rainy day where I never not think of him ever again.

"You better make me look good or I won't give you pictures," he threatened playfully.

When the rain had stopped, we opted to take pictures as proof of this core memory. The unfamiliar camera I saw earlier turned out to be a self-developing one, the modern cameras that instantly printed out tiny polaroid pictures in less than fifteen seconds.

"You literally took the shittiest photos of me, you hypocrite," I rolled my eyes at him, trying my best to cover my eyes with the camera so he wouldn't see the tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes.

"They're mine to keep," Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at me. What a brat.

But he was my brat. The tears that were once the symbol of the everlasting happiness that Wooyoung had been willingly giving me, were now drowning me in the bottomless sorrow that embraced me in a sea of ice cold water.

I loved him.

If I ever cross my heart, if I ever lie or deny the heart that beated for him, then I'd hope to die.

I loved him when we both stared at that park's wisteria, I loved him when he laid in my arms until he fell asleep, I loved him when he told me he'd always be there for me, I loved him then, and I love him now.

"Do you want me to put the movie on?" I asked after we've both settled down, shivering a bit. I never realized how cold it was outside until both me and Wooyoung came back inside.

Wooyoung mumbled a soft hum of affirmation while he was busy in the kitchen reheating some food I had bought with Yeosang earlier. He wasn't even doing anything groundbreaking but he was still so devastatingly loveable in my eyes.

The movie was boring, or rather, my attention just wasn't geared towards it. All I could focus on was the intense, burning passion I had for my best friend. I shut my eyes closely, as if doing so will get rid of the plaguing thoughts.

I let out a small gasp when Wooyoung pulled me to him, his arms wrapped around my waist. "What's going on in that pretty little head?" he sluggishly asked, nudging his head in the crook of my neck.

I am about to explode. He has always been the cuddly kind, but now that I have finally admitted to myself how much I truly loved him, his touch burned me on the inside, electrifying every cell in my body in response to his tender touch. 

"Nothing," I shrugged nonchalantly.

He chuckled, gripping my jaw lightly and turning my head towards his. I stopped breathing when I realized that he was closer than I thought. If I lean even an centimeter more, our lips would touch.

Wooyoung searches my face intently. "Don't lie to me."

I stare at him in the eye, not really knowing what to say. His hand was still on my jaw, but that was the last of my worries right now. I really want to tell him, I want to shout how much I loved him; how much he made me feel like I was everything when in reality I was nothing.

My mouth opens to say something, but immediately closes. In a moment of realization, Wooyoung's eyes widened a bit before his hand dropped from my jaw. There was a storm brewing in those beautiful eyes, and at this moment, I knew I was about to lose him.

"W-Wooyoung," I blurted out, full on panicking at this point.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, his voice breaking in the middle.

"What do you mean?" I sniffled, wanting to reach out and touch him, but stopped myself.

"You know what I mean."

A bitter sensation rose like bile up my throat. My heart isn't just broken, it was now a shadow of what it once was that was slowly fading away little by little.

He knows. Him knowing me like the back of his hand was a curse to a blessing, and not that blessing was a curse. He knows that I am in love with him, the last thing I ever wanted him to know.

"Let's finish the movie," I giggled, though it probably sounded fake.

I frowned when Wooyoung shut the TV off as a whole. "Y/N," he sounded stern. I stayed silent, not even looking him in the eye. 

He sighed deeply. "I can give you anything, but not that," he stated, his arms still around my waist tightening a bit. "You're my best friend, I cannot lose you. Not like this."

My fear of loss was proof of my love for him. I loved him so much, I was willing to let him go.

I rolled my eyes playfully, forcing myself to look at him and grin widely, even though my tongue burned. "What are you saying? We'll be friends until the end of time," I laughed, lightheartedly elbowing him.

There was a passing look of hurt in his features, but it left as soon as it came. "Are you sure you're fine with this?" he squinted his eyes suspiciously at me.

"Of course," I snorted. "Maybe I'm just confused, but you know me Youngie, I'm tough."

He was still suspicious, but he laughed along with me anyway. "I know you are," he chortled, pinching my cheek really, really hard.

"Ow! You imp!" I grab his cheek to pinch it back just as hard, playing along with him.

We decided not to finish the movie and just rest for the night. As I lay back down on the makeshift bed Wooyoung made for me earlier, with him cuddling me from behind and pretty much spooning me, I let it all out.

Silent tears flowed down from my eyes and I had to put my knuckles in my mouth to prevent myself from making any sound. I can feel Woyooung's chest rising up and down against my back and that's how I knew he was sleeping, but I didn't want to risk waking him up.

My heart hurt so much, because I knew my love will never be reciprocated. Wooyoung loved his dreams too much to choose us, I knew that. I tried so damn hard to stop my growing feelings but to no avail. The voice that came out from me so naturally to tell him that I was fine, that what I felt for him was just a silly little crush, sounded so far away; it didn't even sound like me.

The attraction between us became an intangible broken thread and there was no way to reattach the fragments, though I know that I was the only one scattered and lost.

I knew we weren't going to last forever, but I wasn't expecting the beginning of the end to happen so soon.

A knock from my left snaps me out of my thoughts. It was Mingi tapping on my desk, his brow raised.

"Sorry," I sheepishly mumbled, trying to focus on the task at hand. Hongjoong already left for New York so it was just me and Mingi in the shop.

I couldn't concentrate, I kept glancing at my phone hoping Wooyoung would reply to my messages. Something was wrong, and I was very close to having a mental breakdown.

Woo? Are you busy? Wanna hang out at the new place later after work?

I kept telling myself that it was fine, he's busy, he's been in-demand lately because he truly was a talented photographer with a particular set of skills that were a rarity in such a condensed industry, but I couldn't help but feel like he's been very distant lately.

Wooyoung has been avoiding me and I don't know what to do.

To keep my insecurities in check, I've been going in the deepest pits of my mind to tolerate my thoughts and letting these negative feelings pass - so I can react appropriately and not go crazy over the things I had no control over.

Wooyoung? Is everything okay? You aren't responding...

Truth be told, I felt pathetic. I got so attached to Wooyoung that I forgot how I was before I met him - alone. It wasn't his fault, he doesn't owe me anything, it was me who let my heart chase a person who never even wanted to be found in the first place.

Another knock made me jump from my thoughts.

"Y/N," Mingi sighed, taking his glasses off and setting them down on his own desk. "Can I talk to you really quick?"

I bit my lip, nodding. Mingi had always been the type of boss that drew a line with everyone, except Hongjoong. He was strict, very intimidating, but it suited him, so I'm a bit nervous that he was calling me out. 

"I'll be straight with you, yeah? Is it Wooyoung?" he asked out of genuine curiosity, his sharp eyes piercing through me.

I didn't respond, I couldn't, so I kept my head low. I heard Mingi sigh again. "Hey," he says softly. "This is off the record, okay? I won't tell Hongjoong, although I suspect he already knows anyway."

I looked up, frowning. "What do you mean?" 

Mingi crossed his arms, leaning back against his chair a bit more relaxed. "I can't speak for him, but for me personally? I know Wooyoung more than you think I do. You just haven't seen us together because I've been so busy lately."

He was right. Mingi continued. "Look, it's a shame to see you like this. We really like you, you're hardworking, critical, smart, and whatnot..."

"T-Thank you, Mr. Song," I blurted out.

"Just Mingi," he brushed off. "What I'm trying to say is, save yourself for a man that isn't him. He won't choose you."

I already knew that, but hearing it didn't make it hurt less. Tears started to pool in the corners of my eyes. Mingi curses under his breath.

"Go home," he gestured out the door. "Take the day off."

"B-But we still have work left," I stuttered.

He gives me a small smile. "I'll manage. Go before I change my mind."

I suppose I was thankful about being sent home, it did help my nerves a bit. I've gotten home, showered, ate dinner, and did the most mundane things I could ever do, but Wooyoung never replied.

I woke up the next day, clutching my phone, muttering a little prayer in my head as if I would miraculously see his name pop up in my notifications, telling me good morning like he used to every single day.

The tears I've been holding off since yesterday ran down like waterfalls from my eyes. I missed him so much, and I've got nobody to blame but myself. I wished I kept it in, how much I loved him I mean. Maybe we would have been hanging out by now, laughing obnoxiously at nothing in particular.

Before I could stop myself, I dialed Wooyoung's number. The beating of my heart pounded along with the ringing tone against my ear. I was about to hang up, when I heard the familiar click of answer.

Hello?

I covered my mouth with my hand to prevent me from choking up. Oh, how I missed this voice.

"H-Hey, Woo, how are you doing?" I apprehensively asked.

I can't really talk right now, little dove, what do you want?

I was confused, my frown getting deeper. There was tension on the line, a tension so brittle it could snap in a moment, and if it doesn't, I might. He sounds like his normal self, but he sounds so rigid, his voice clipped.

"Nothing, I-I just wanted to hear your voice," I was so anxious at this point, especially when Wooyoung didn't say anything back for a moment.

I can feel the fear spreading throughout my chest. I let out a slow, controlled breath and attempted to loosen my body.

What? You called me for that? I have my own things to do, Y/N, you can't just call me for something so stupid.

I felt my heart bleed, twisting, turning, and rendering my insides tight. I don't respond, wide eyed, my heart in my throat. I needed him to tell me everything was going to be alright, to soothe me but instead he continued.

I'll call you when I have time, okay?

"B-But you said I can call you whenever I needed you," I whispered in the smallest voice I could muster.

I know what I said.

The tone of his voice, so cold and so upset, brought shivers down my spine. "I'm sorry," I whimpered. "I'm so lonely, I miss you. C-Can you come for a bit? O-Or I'll come if you cannot..."

I'll see.

And then he hung up, not bothering to wait for my response. Hot tears, ones he will never witness, were falling even faster than before and soaking my pillows. I felt the wetness of my skin and each drop killed my soul little by little.

What is happening? That wasn't the man I know, that wasn't the Wooyoung I have come to love over the past year.

Sharp knives dig into my heart even deeper, bringing more pain, making me cry out in the most desperate of as it keeps slicing over and over again. I was so lost at the torment my mind was putting me through.

When I was at my lowest, when others took what I could not afford to give, Wooyoung saved my life. The voice that once kept me alive was now the one that was slowly sucking every little bit of hope in my soul.

The first day was fine, I was able to rationalize with myself and not think of Wooyoung every second of the day.

The first week was a bit difficult, but I was still able to manage and get by day by day even though I can feel myself slowly slipping away.

The first month, I couldn't take it anymore. My parents noticed that I wasn't being myself lately, but they chose not to comment anything out of respect, but when I completely stopped eating and going out was when they began to worry significantly.

I understand that my best friend might never be able to give back all the love I have from him, but there is something much, much worse than hate or ignorance.

It was indifference. The night I had unintentionally confessed to him was the night everything between us started to blur.. He was cold, I wasn't expecting him to love me back, but abandoning me and acting like I don't exist or matter at all was turning all my loneliness into desperation.

Screw it. If he's not going to see me, then I'll go see him.

It wasn't too difficult to borrow the family car with the pretense of going out to enjoy myself. They didn't know Wooyoung was the source of my melancholy. I haven't had the heart to tell them because they really liked him.

"Woo?" I knocked on his apartment door, the door that used to excite me, now terrified me.

No response. I knew for a fact that he was inside and was ignoring the hell out of me because his lights were on - he always turned them off whenever he was going somewhere all the time. I was getting extremely annoyed at this point, and my anger had nowhere to dissipate.

"Jung Wooyoung, I know you're in there," I knocked frantically. "Open the freaking door."

When I still got no reply, I had no choice but to get the spare key he hid under his doormat. I could've done it earlier, I wasn't in the mood to be disrespected right now.

The moment I swung his door open, I saw him. He was just there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed, staring me directly in the eye. I stood by his doorway, frozen, staring back at him. 

"Woo--"

"Close the damn door and sit down," he sighed exasperatedly. The cold indifference in his eyes was killing me.

The atmosphere was completely tense, I didn't even know where to start. I used to love being in his apartment, but now I was itching to get out.

Then I saw it - the same duffle bag he bought the glass prism to give me a lunar rainbow now filled with all of his clothes.

"What the hell is this?" I gritted, not being able to hold back the anger I was feeling at the moment.

"What does it look like?" he glared, his jaw taut and clenched tight.

"Is this why you weren't talking to me?" I asked, my voice full of hurt. "How can you do this, Wooyoung? How could you do this to us?"

He scoffed. "There is no us, my princess," he mocked. It stung, I didn't know this Wooyoung, or was this his true nature all along?

"Then why am I still your princess, then?"

There was a second where his eyes morphed back into the man I loved, but before it even lasted, it went to this hostile stranger than got off on the hurt he was giving me. He avoided eye contact, opting to look down and stare at the floor tiles. 

"Say something," I begged.

"I heard you," he snapped, as if I meant absolutely nothing to him. 

Clearly, he wasn't expecting me to even confront him at all, and intended to push me far, far away as long as he possibly could.

That refusal to smile, to show me any warmth was his way of being antagonistic towards me.

His eyes stopped at mine, and the moment it laid on me, I knew that there was nothing left for me to salvage. This is really the end.

Tears flowed nonstop from my eyes and before I knew it, I was in front of him, aggressively hitting his chest using my fist with all my might, hoping he could feel all the pain he gave me.

"Stop it, Y/N," he hissed, trying to avoid my hits. But I didn't. All the anger and sadness were so intertwined that I didn't know which one prevailed.

"I said stop it!", he shouted. He grabbed my wrists painfully and held them against his chest. "You better stop, or so God help me, I will make you stop, and trust me, you do not want that."

Something akin to fear crept into my chest. I have never, ever heard him raise his voice before.

"Had I known that you were going to be the bane of my existence, I would have ignored you at the park back then!" I screeched at him, trying very hard to get my hands back by thrashing around.

"Had I known you were going to be like this, I wouldn't have taken a photo of you!" Wooyoung's grip got so tight that I literally felt no blood circulating towards my hand.

"You good for nothing ass, you're hurting me! Let me go!" I growled, but it came out as a whine.

"Not until you calm down!"

We went back and forth like that, arguing like little children. The fight between us was a destruction in the making, tearing us instead of bounding us together.

I swallowed the anger that threatened to spill out of me, and it grew in my chest as the person I loved did absolutely nothing to wipe the tears from my eyes. At least he was a bit surprised when I screamed a scream from deep within, and it terrified the both of us because it didn't even sound like me.

"How am I supposed to look at anyone else?" I cried, my head leaning on his chest out of exhaustion. "I don't want anyone else anymore because I will be afraid to trust."

"I'm sorry," was all he said. He didn't even want to wrap his arms around me and just let me hang in there.

"No, you're not," I cried even harder. 

"Y/N, please, you're making this difficult for me," his voice breaks in the middle. I feel the intensity in his voice, a massive amount of emotion behind every word he spoke.

"And how do you think I feel, Wooyoung?"

"I understand, but--"

"This is how you are, full of excuses, full of shit!"

"Let me talk--"

"Why are you leaving me? Why are you--"

"Because I love you!"

I must've looked so shocked, so devastated, and so scared that Wooyoung, himself, started breaking down. We held each other as if it was our last, and at that moment, it was just the two of us against everything in this world.

Wooyoung held my face with his shaking hands, tears flowing down from his own eyes as he leaned his forehead against mine. That somehow made me cry harder. "I love you so much, goddamn it," he choked.

"But you're not going to stay," I whimpered against his criminal hold. 

Though he felt so warm right now, I knew it wasn't going to last. I could get lost in his eyes right now because they felt like home as we both cried in each other's arms. After all the countless nights I wished he felt the same, this felt foreign. 

He was an oasis in a barren desert and the best thing I could do was stare.

"You appearing in my life was never planned," he whispered. "I never expected to fall as deeply as I did with you, Y/N."

"If you feel the same, then why can't you stay with me?" I asked pitifully.

"I can't, baby, this wasn't supposed to happen," he took a deep breath. "I can't love you."

"You can't, or you won't?"

He didn't respond. That got him. I sighed.

"Woo, look at me?" I tilted his chin up very gently until he did. "Don't do this to us," I pleaded. "You're looking at me with clouded eyes right now, you know I see through your lies..."

Wooyoung doesn't reply, choosing to walk away from me to pace across the room in a fret. I watched him collect his mind apprehensively.

"If I can't have me, then no one can," he finally said.

I stared at him as my heart started slowly breaking once again. This incomprehensible pain was consuming me bit by bit, my heart was bleeding.

"I would regret it for the rest of my life if I don't chase the longest dream I've ever had," his eyes were laced in pain. "The photography world is waiting for me..."

"Is this why you didn't want anything or anyone tying you down to this place, Woo? You didn't want to commit because you might never want to leave?"

That was it. The way he looked at me told me everything I needed to know. I had lost him before I even had him, and I can only weep and let myself come to terms with the one that got away. So I cried, I cried as Wooyoung held me in his arms, rocking me back and forth like he used to when we spent time together.

"Hush now," he started crying with me. "I hate that it seems you were never enough." He hugged me tighter. "Because you are, you were more than enough."

"But I'm the one that should mean something! So help me understand," I sobbed harder in his arms, afraid to let him go because he might disappear if I do.

He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. "If one day we see each other again," he croaked. "However long that will take, we will try again for each other, okay?"

I shook my head like a crazed maniac, muttering no, no, no repeatedly. "Wooyoung," I wailed, holding onto his arms tightly. "P-Please don't leave me..."

I begged him over and over again like my life depended on it, and to be fair, I felt like I was going to die if he left me entirely. At this point I didn't care if I was going to be his second choice as long as he stayed.

"Y/N, please don't make this harder than it is," Wooyoung denied. "Go home, please I'm begging you. You're going to make me do something we'll both regret, please."

He was about to leave, but I held him back from behind, holding onto him as tight as I possibly could. "Stop it," he pleaded, trying to pry my arms off of him, but I held tighter, wailing harder.

"P-Please, please don't go," I bawled. "I'll do anything, I'll--"

"Stop it!"

His booming voice made me gasp, or maybe that was the sudden hold he had on my shoulders. The way his eyes darkened wasn't something I missed as his nails dug into my shoulders.

"Do not say that," he hissed, his dark eyes boring into me. "We are both in my room, alone. You know what that means, right?"

"So take me, Wooyoung."

Something changed in the air, and between the two of us right at this moment. Wooyoung's eyes widened a bit, his hold on my shoulders tightening , before he grimaced. "You don't know what you're saying," he laughed dryly.

I knew it was wrong, but right now I wanted nothing but to feel all of him. I will throw all the dignity I have right now, I don't care. The moment I begged him to stay, I'd lost it all, anyway.

"The notion of sin has never sat too well with me," Wooyoung gulped, his voice thick with lust.

"And leaving me does?" I blurted, my own eyes hazy with want.

Wooyoung shook his head fervently and sweat was beginning to form at his hairline. "Y/N, I am only a man, please don't make me do it..."

He buried his head in the crook of my neck, his breathing was so laboured and every time he took a breath, I felt everything on my skin. I mewled when I felt him pause, then lick the most sensitive part of my neck.

"Fuck, you smell and taste so good," Wooyoung growled.

Everything happened so fast. In a split second, his touch electrified every nerve in my body, the intoxication was instantaneous. He hurriedly grabbed my face and immediately put his lips on mine, like I was his air and he needed me to live.

His arms wrap around my back, and in one motion, our bodies collide. His hand was pulling and tugging my hair, muttering how soft they were in between kisses. I kiss him back with equal fervent, quickly opening my mouth so his tongue can explore. Our bodies fit together like we were made to do this.

He pulls away and we lock eyes for a moment, just enough to see that we were far too gone to stop, before we were back at it again, this time on his bed. The kiss we shared was of raw intensity, the groans he made behind his throat made every hair on my body stand up in attention.

"Baby," he groaned, his voice muffled because he was back to attacking my neck. 

"Hmm?" was I could reply with, especially with how rough he was kneading my breasts from under my shirt. 

"You held your breath for a minute straight while my tongue was in your throat."

I blushed deep. We were almost about to have sex and he still remembered that? I never thought his mouth would be this dirty.

We caressed each other's skin through the night, not getting enough of each other as we became one. His touches were exhilarating, whenever he laid his fingers on my skin tingles. Both of us move in sync, not taking our eyes off of each other.

There were no thoughts, and no focus - only lust and desire.

My back arches in anticipation from his light hands as he watches my reaction, feeling how my hands shook, watching my body tremble every time he used his fingers.

Whatever Wooyoung was doing, there was no stopping. Just his scent from above me was enough to incapacitate me. Every thrust he did was enough for me to fall deeper, and deeper for him and he never stopped until we were warm and snuggled after we were finished.

But nothing lasts forever - even guilty pleasures. 

"Wooyoung?" I asked nobody in particular the moment I woke up, my voice sore from all the screaming the night prior.

I sat up, covering my body with the blanket that smelled so much like him, looking around to see if he was somewhere since he wasn't lying down beside me on his own bed, but no. 

I didn't think much of it, maybe he just went to the bathroom to freshen up, but deep down my heart, I knew he had left.

There was something on the spot where Wooyoung was supposed to be - a piece of paper. I hesitantly picked up, realized it was a letter addressed to me, and opened its contents. Little dots of wetness dropped down the paper from every tear as I read on.

'To the one I'm letting go,

I'm sorry, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for everything I will put you through starting now. By the time you're reading this, I would have been long gone.

You will always be the most important person of my life, whether you believe it or not. You have absolutely no idea how wonderful and colourful you have made my life into for the past year and I always smile knowing that you'd be there to share my achievements with.

I knew I would develop feelings for you the moment I saw you in that park. God, you looked so beautiful. The fates were funny like that, because I wasn't even supposed to be at the park that day. My usual spot was unavailable that day.

Please be happy, do not forget your meals, study well so you can go into that college you've always wanted to, don't eat too many sweets because they make you hyper, be mindful of nuts in every food since you are allergic to them since I can't be there to check them for you anymore.

The gift of friendship as great as yours is something I will forever cherish in my heart, Y/N. Our little moments where we laughed and cried together still makes me happy to this day. You may have come into my life unexpectedly for what felt like a minute, but the mark you left will last us forever.

You're going to have to move on for me, and I will do the same, even if it hurts both of us, okay? I have to leave, it's either you or my dreams, and I know you have dreams of your own. This love will always hold us back.

However, if I see you again one day, I cannot guarantee that I will hold back because I am going to take you whether you like it or not and make you mine.

But for now? I cannot hate you, but I cannot love you either.

Yours, J. WY'

I hyperventilated, my hands shaking violently as I held the letter that might as well have been my death certificate.

I knew one way or another, this was going to happen and I was prepared for it so I wouldn't get hurt in the near future, but it hasn't fully hit me until now. 

Long ago, I had forgotten how to scream because they were either ignored or criticized with cruelty, but the way I screamed my soul out broke my own heart. My grief came in waves, ebbing gradually at the ocean that needed to bleed from my eyes.

"Oh, Wooyoung," I cried his name out pitifully, holding the letter close to my heart. I knew I loved him, but the loss of him really solidified how strong it was. How was I supposed to survive the feeling of something so dear that got forcefully ripped away from me?

I must've wallowed in my despair and self-pity a little too much, that I forgot that there were clutters and footsteps outside of the room. They were the reason I woke up. Could it be..?

I half heartedly rubbed my tear-stained face with my hands to make the swelling go away before I dressed up decent enough to step out.

The footsteps stopped when I apprehensively opened the door, the creak of it echoing across the otherwise barren room. 

My eyes widened and landed on two men who were both staring at me also wide-eyed the moment I opened my door, as if they were listening in on me suffering.

"Who the hell are you?!" I had meant for that to be threatening, but it came out as a pathetic squeak.

They both stepped back, surprised at the spunk I had even though it was clearly very early in the morning.

"We mean no harm, we promise," one of them said calmly. He reminded me of a bear, and the relaxed fit of his jeans that tucked his black tee made his form even bigger. "I'm Jongho, your brother and the two workaholics sent me..."

I raised my brow, he must be Hongjoong's assistant, the other workaholic was Mingi. Yeosang did also mention a best friend in passing. I raised a brow on the other one expecting him to talk.

He was tall, definitely taller than Mingi, and they kind of looked like each other, though this one reminded me of an overgrown puppy. He was very good-looking as well. He was lean, though there's definitely some bulk on him too.

He waves a set of keys in front of him. "I'm Yunho, San gave me the keys," he worriedly explained. "I was hoping you could explain. I made breakfast..."

The food was very good, but I didn't have the heart to tell Yunho that Wooyoung's cooking was the one I craved for. I gave them the letter Wooyoung had written for me as I filled them in on some details about what happened. They were Wooyoung's really close friends, so I didn't have to fill in too much details since they pretty much knew the majority of it.

"He never told you it was love at first sight," Yunho shook his head as he passed the letter for Jongho to read. "That bastard, I told him to stay away from you if he was just going to leave."

"We tried very hard to change his mind, believe me," Jongho sighed, taking a sip of the coffee I made him earlier. Both of his eyes shot up as he stared at me. "Though I suppose this is one of the reasons why he couldn't stay away."

That one struck a nerve. Wooyoung was the one who taught me how to make good coffee. 

Yunho cleared his throat. "San doesn't know Wooyoung has left yet. If he found out, he would beat the shit out of him. San liked you a lot, he convinced Wooyoung the most to stay."

"And Hongjoong?"

"Hongjoong is, well, he is who he is. He just knows everything. He probably told Yeosang because he didn't have the heart to tell you." 

Yunho's phone started ringing, it gave me a slight migraine because that thing was loud as hell. Yunho mutters a sheepish apology. "Hello?"

"Alright, which one of you soul-sucking bastards stole my keys?! What the hell is even happening?!"

That actually made me giggle. Now I know why these two were sent to check up on me - Yunho was very easy to get along with and Jongho was the rational one to balance things.

"Who is that?"

Yunho and Jongho took turns to fill San in on everything that went down, and I felt bad for him because that also meant that San lost a friend. His heartbroken questions were making tears in my eyes.

"Sannie," Jongho sighed. "This is why we took the keys, we didn't want you to find out this way."

"Where is he, then?" San's voice was tight.

"You don't know either?" Yunho asked in surprise.

"N-No, Y/N? Is she okay?"

That completely broke me. It was ironic that Wooyoung's friends, people I wasn't even that familiar with in the first place, were the ones more concerned about me. I bitterly let my tears out, with Jongho patting my back to comfort me.

I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried until I felt my voice grow weary with excessive use, not caring that these two strangers and a man on the phone heard me break down pitifully.

Forget about me, Wooyoung had also left the people who loved him as well - his friends. In that regard, he was extremely selfish because he knew that hurt he would give to everyone, but he chose to do what he did anyway.

And just like that, he was gone.

I lost track of time, I don't even remember the last time I actually cared to check.

Depression is a silly thing, something that I used to think never ended, but it does actually; you're going to feel it when you hit rock bottom.

"Have a good day everyone," I waved from the doorway of Mingi's office.

The whole gang was here, except for my brother because he lived far away. Still, Yeosang has made it his life's mission to be there for me whenever I gave him a hint that I needed him the most. I felt bad, but I had nobody to turn to.

"Y/N, wait."

I was about to leave, to ignore that call, but I couldn't. Yes?"

Hongjoong stared at me for a full minute without saying anything, before sighing. "Take care of yourself."

I forced a smile on my face. I was happy that everyone was looking out for me even though I just can't outwardly express it. I actually appreciate that none of them were treating me like a wounded puppy.

Hongjoong might not look like he cared too much, but I notice his sharp eyes watching me when he thinks I wasn't looking. Wooyoung was the opposite.

Yunho was very sweet, he would often bake me pastries since I mentioned in passing that I loved them and they brought me joy. Wooyoung used to do that a lot.

Mingi was another nonchalant one. He would often offer me a vacation alone somewhere with all expenses paid. I denied. Being alone will make me think of Wooyoung more.

San was the one that accompanied me the most when I didn't want to move at all. He would bring me food at least four times a week to make sure I was eating. Wooyoung used to feed me, himself, if I wasn't in the mood.

Jongho, being the mature one, made me realize that there were more reasons to live this life. Perhaps it was my parents, maybe my pet dog, or maybe just to find out what happens tomorrow. Wooyoung had a very similar outlook in life. 

I was aimlessly walking around and I didn't even notice that I ended up on the bench I sat on, the same bench that had that beautiful wisteria tree. Only this time, there was no Wooyoung to take a candid photo of me.

"I guess I'm not the only one falling apart," I sighed, lightly touching the wilting petals of the once purple tree, now it was just a faded whitish lilac colour.

It was difficult to find happiness in the things that I used to like. I missed the way he hugged me, the sound of his voice, the tenderness in his actions. I missed the way he would whisper the corniest jokes against my ear and make me laugh, but most of all, I missed the way we used to be.

He was my first thought of the day, the light at the end of my tunnel. How must I separate these fantasies from reality? Would things be different if I didn't confess? Would he still be here?

The reality was that he has not had these fantasies, we did not build our dream together, so I have to let it go.

Even though he had left after the momentarily love we shared for one night, I can tell myself that at least I knew that he genuinely loved me at one point. My mind will be at peace because I wouldn't have to go manic wondering for the rest of my life if it was only me - I know now that we did truly mean something to each other. 

We're so distracted by how things end, we usually forget how beautiful the beginning was. 

It was a quote I heard somewhere. My love was a myth, but Wooyoung never believed in myths, and so that was both the start and end of our story. Some things are only real if you believe that they are. 

A lone tear slipped away as I remembered how beautiful the wisteria was when we had first met. His absence will be the best part of me, I decided, so hopefully for the last time after a while, I weep again. 

I will wait for him, no matter how long it took.

3.5 YEARS LATER

I sat in front of the vanity table in my hotel room, staring at myself from the big mirror wearing my white satin robe, it made my complexion pop into a champagne rose hue. 

I made eye contact with the person looming behind me through the mirror. "Would you like me to tell them to adjust the makeup and your hair?" he asked me tenderly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I figured you'd love a natural look so I made it happen."

"No, it's perfect, you always know what's best for me," I smiled widely, putting my hand on top of his gently. It was the truth, it managed to bring out me feminine side, and therefore, my self-confidence as well.

I was the happiest I've ever been today, especially because I was finally with the love of my life. He frowned a bit when I pulled him a bit closer to fix his slightly rumpled collar and hair.

"I like the blonde, my love," I ran my hand on it in a trickling motion so I wouldn't mess it up.

He smirks, grabbing my hand to kiss it. "Yeah? That's good, I was feeling tired of the red, plus I don't think it would be appropriate for today."

I chuckled a bit. I have always loved his style, it was so masculine but also so chic and sophisticated at the same time. He was already wearing the suit and tie I had chosen for him today.

I will miss the red hair though, I still remember feeling uneasy when I saw his red hair for the first time, but I have come to love it over time. This blonde was making me feel some type of way.

I took a glance at my wedding dress that was placed at the far corner of the room. The lace upon lace design was very cozy and snug against my curves and it made me feel like the most beautiful bride in the entire world.

"So what's the schedule, darling? Your photography session here alone or with your bridesmaids for now?" he glanced at his wristwatch.

"Alone for now," I hummed. "I want Joongie, Sannie, and Yeo in here right now. You should go check with Yuyu and Mangi if you need alterations, and oh, check with Jongbear if he's all set with the wedding songs later?"

Over the years, I have gotten so close with the gang and they've all become my bestest of friends. The journey wasn't easy, but at least I've gained seven other lifetime friends.

He chuckled, clicking his tongue in amusement. "Alright, but calm down," he plants a quick kiss on my lips. "As much as I love when you're in your thinking mode, I want you to relax for today."

"I can't help it, Seonghwa, I've never done this before," I pouted.

Seonghwa squeezed my hand lovingly. "I know, me neither, but I'll be with you through everything, okay? And don't worry about those three knuckleheads, they're on their way."

"I love you, Hwa."

"I love you more, darling."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and indeed, the three people I was expecting made their merry way towards me and Seonghwa. 

"Well, well, well," Yeosang strutted towards me. "If it isn't my favourite sister."

"I'm your only sister," I rolled my eyes, making everybody laugh. 

"Oh, Y/N, oh my goodness," Yeosang hugged me tightly. "Goddamn it, I shouldn't have gone here, you're going to make me cry."

"Shut up, Yeo, you're going to make me cry too," I choked, holding my tears back so I don't ruin my makeup. "I could barely hold myself when I saw Mom and Dad bawl their eyes out earlier."

It was like we were back in our childhood again where we supported each other whenever we got an achievement. We don't see each other much but our closeness never got less.

"I'm proud of you, you deserve this happiness," Yeosang smiled. "I'll see you out there, my back is hurting from Seonghwa glaring at my back for taking your time."

"I was not!"

"Some brother-in-law you are, Park Seonghwa!" Yeosang retorted.

We all laughed again, there's nothing better than having friends to celebrate your day with you. Yeosang left shortly and now I was with San and Hongjoong to check up on some things.

"The guests are coming in gradually," San lowered his glasses while he tapped away on his tablet. San was the one who arranged the beautiful venue of the outdoor garden where me and Seonghwa will marry as well as the food and invitations. 

San moved away from photography a couple of years ago and started a business on coordinating events. "I reckon they'll all be here within two hours," he continued, but paused hesitantly. "There might be one seat vacant, I'm not sure he'll come..."

The air was a bit tense. I knew who he was talking about. "It's okay, Sannie, we have back up photographers in case he doesn't want to do it..."

Hongjoong cleared his throat loudly. "Congratulations," he grinned from the other side of the room.

"Thanks, Joongie, you're the best," I grinned back, thanking him for more than what I was referring to.

Hongjoong was the one who designed my wedding dress from scratch, and Mingi designed Seonghwa's. It was their first wedding haute couture and definitely not their last.

"Any adjustments you want me to make? I would ask you to try it on, but that's bad luck. " he joked. I shook my head no. "Alright. But I'm sure you'll look good. We're very happy for you, Y/N, we really are."

It felt great to hear it in general, especially on my wedding day, but it meant a lot coming from Hongjoong. All of them were brothers to me, but he was the eldest one.

"Seonghwa, if you think of hurting her," San cracked his knuckles. "You know what will happen."

"Yeah, yeah, sure San, you're scared shitless of killing bugs, let alone beat me up," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, making us all laugh our heads off because it was so true.

Mingi, Yunho, and Jongho also popped in after a while to say their congratulations. Yunho was in charge of hosting the reception, which came naturally for him since he has such an engaging personality.

"I'm so nervous, what if I stutter?" Yunho groaned. "Though I'm sure Jongho here is more nervous."

"A little," Jongho admitted. We were all surprised, he usually does very well on literally everything.

"Jjong, you're literally the best singer I've ever heard," I cheered him on.

"It's not that, this is different. This is your wedding we're talking about."

"That's true and all," Mingi chided in. "But I'm pretty sure Seonghwa is the most nervous out of everybody. Y/N, you gotta tell his ass to calm down, I couldn't even properly adjust his suit, for God's sake!"

We all turned our heads when the sound of another knock resounded through the room. We all looked at each other in confusion, Yeosang was the only one not in here and he would never knock before entering.

Yunho took the initiative to open the door, although apprehensively. He opened the door in an angle where we couldn't see who was outside, but he did, and when he did, he gasped loudly.

"What the fuck!" he shut the door loudly and leaned against it, pale white.

The room was silent, Yunho wasn't the type to curse in general. We all looked at him with very wide eyes and he stared back with his mouth agape.

"Yun, what the hell was that?" Mingi broke the silence, as calm as the ocean.

"I-I, uhm, I-I don't th-think," he stuttered.

"Oh, what the hell," Jongho rolled his eyes, walking towards Yunho and pushing him out rather roughly so he could open the door himself.

Jongho muttered a curse under his breath, before closing the door a bit gently this time, but he also had the same shocked expression on his face. This time I was freaking out, wedding jitters and all.

"Yah!" someone on the other side shouted, banging on the door.

"Open the damn door!" Seonghwa seethed, but quickly muttered a 'sorry' when I glared at him.

Both Yunho and Jongho opened the double doors at the same time, and the person entered. My mind had a small explosion, my heart beating twice the speed it should have, and the hairs all over my body stood up in the collective gasps we all had when we saw him.

He was someone I never thought I'd ever see again, someone I dearly missed even though we ended on a sour note, someone I couldn't wait for anymore even though I told myself I would.

"Wooyoung," I whispered, a bit teary eyed.

"Wooyoung," Seonghwa confirmed, but I could see how nervous he became.

"Wooyoung?" Mingi asked in surprise.

"Wooyoung!" Hongjoong laughed in disbelief. "Wooyoung," San growled, gritting his teeth.

"Oh hello there, Wooyoung," Yeosang suddenly entered the room. I can tell he was upset, especially because he patted Wooyoung's back in a "friendly" manner.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Wooyoung screamed his signature loud screech, but it was too late.

His squawks get louder as everyone, except me and Seonghwa, swarmed him aggressively, like a mob that threatened to end his existence. There were laughter mixed with complaints but overall, everybody seemed happy.

"You crazy son of a bitch, you have us worried, you never even called or texted!"

"Wow, you're uglier than before---ow!"

"Don't ever think of leaving again!"

"Come here, you monkey!"

I felt Seonghwa tense from behind me. I patted his arm, causing him to look at me. I frowned a bit, his eyes held anxiety and inferiority. I understood, the man I used to love was here.

"Alright, alright! Get off me, you airheaded buffoons!" Wooyoung shouted, trying to push everyone off, but ended up laughing hysterically with Mingi and Jongho.

Hongjoong only shook his head and rolled his eyes but I can tell he was happy. San grabbed his collar harshly and for a moment, we thought he was angry, but he ended up pulling Wooyoung into a bone crushing hug and Yunho had to pull him away to give him a hug of his own.

Yunho had always carried the burden of guilt for the past year, he kept saying that he could have stopped Wooyoung back then. Yeosang ruffled Wooyoung's hair roughly, something he did when he's overwhelmed on how to express his feelings.

"Have you guys seen, uhm--oh," Wooyoung began, but faltered when his eyes met mine., his smile dropping in slow motion. He didn't know I'd be here.

The air became tense all of a sudden. A sudden heartache filled my mind with dread, flashbacks of what happened years ago reminding me of the bond we made only for it to break. But even though it hurt, I was genuinely happy he was here, so I put a smile on my face.

He was shocked, his eyes going back to the same twinkle he had back then, but it quickly disappeared when Seonghwa cleared his throat, then I saw it disappear permanently.

"We, uh, we should leave you guys to talk," Seonghwa murmured.

"A-Are you sure, Hwa?" I hesitated, holding onto his arm to stop him from moving. 

I wasn't the only one surprised when Seonghwa nodded lightheartedly. "Mhhm," he hummed. "Plus," he glanced at Wooyoung. "This is a long overdue conversation."

With that, everyone left the room, but not before Seonghwa shook Wooyoung's hand. My heart was filled with pride. "Nice to see you again, old friend," Seonghwa patted Wooyoung's shoulder gently. This is why I loved him, he trusted me wholeheartedly.

Seonghwa knew everything, from how Wooyoung met me, to how grateful I was for everything he's done for me, all the way to him leaving me. Seonghwa and Wooyoung and pretty much everyone used to be good friends but he had to move away when they were younger because of his parents' work. He cried for me, he cried for everything I've been through, and cried for how far I've become.

Wooyoung stood awkwardly from where he was after Seonghwa had left, and I didn't even know what to do either. I wasn't even sure if he was the same person he was before he left, three years was a long time. We were strangers to each other at this point because I definitely have changed.

"S-Sit, Wooyoung, please," I blurted, not looking him in the eye as I pointed at the sofa across from where I was.

I stared at him as he awkwardly did as he was told. The years have been bittersweet to him - he had become unbelievably handsome, but his eyes had lost that youth and spark to it. 

He had more muscle to him, and his face had matured into this angular and chiseled appearance - his brows were more prominent, his cheekbones higher, and his jaws stronger. His hair was longer too, instead of the bright red I knew him for, he had this black and blonde layered on top of each other like an Oreo cookie.

"How are you doing, Y/N?" he softly asked. Even his voice got deeper, more booming, but it was still as calming as I remembered it to be.

"I'm good, I feel really happy," I genuinely replied. "I'm glad you're able to come despite your schedule."

"Of course," he sighed. "I'm surprised you still invited me."

"Why wouldn't I?" I whispered, all the hurt threatening to spill out from me. "B-But how have you been? Did you get what you wanted?"

I knew the answer to that question. Of course he did, Wooyoung was now a well-known photographer who was in-demand all over South Korea. He was basically a celebrity, but I still wanted to hear it come from his mouth.

Wooyoung smiled tightly. "Yes and no," he said cryptically.

"W-Why?"

Wooyoung stared at me for a minute, his eyes not giving away what he was feeling. My heart almost burst out of my ribcage. He tried so hard, but he was fiddling with his pants, a sign he was nervous.

We might be two different people now, but I still knew him like the back of my hand. 

"So," he cleared his throat, finally looking away. "Seonghwa, huh?"

I hummed, letting him get away with the fact that he was changing the topic. "Yeah, we just clicked," I smiled shyly. "A couple of months after you left, Joong introduced us together..."

He nodded, choosing not to reply. It got awkward again after that, the silence filling the room in an uncomfortable manner. He was only a couple of feet away from me, but he felt like miles back. My heart cracked a little, maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"I-I'm happy for you, Y/N, I really am," his voice cracked towards the end. "Congratulations on y-your...wedding."

I swallowed a huge lump on my throat when I saw Wooyoung look down, his hands on either side of his head, cradling it as I heard him sniffle. It felt like thunder to my ears, but I chose not to comment on it so as to not embarrass him.

"It was nice the first year, I felt like I was on top of the world with nothing tying or holding me back," he laughed bitterly. "But afterwards, I felt like shit. I had no family, no friends, no you. Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life."

I stayed silent, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would cry too. "I'm afraid now, little dove, I'm so afraid of doing things now because that one, single mistake cost me my whole life..."

I bit my lip hard, my heart breaking a little bit more for him. Oh, how the tables have turned, I used to be the one that always got scared of trying something, and it took me a while to fully commit to Seonghwa.

"I am so, so sorry, Y/N..."

I let Wooyoung pour his heart out, letting him sob silently on the sofa. I gripped my robe tightly, wanting to go to him like the old times, but I couldn't, not because I didn't want to, but because Wooyoung needed his moment. He wasn't only crying for the both of us, but for the suffering, the loneliness of being alone, and everything he went through to get the success he longed to have.

"I'm proud of you, Wooyoung, you did well. You did what you had to do back then, I can't fault you for that," I told him. "Yes, I was mad at you, I'm not going to deny that, but I forgave you a long time ago."

I finally let out all the things I've always wanted to tell him. "One day you were just gone, you couldn't even explain why. We were best friends, soulmates, or so I thought."

"What killed me the most was I felt like our journey together had just begun, and you had left too soon," my breath hitched. "You came, then you left, and you took parts of me I didn't know existed, as well as yours because I never had the chance to explore you."

He stayed silent, listening to me like he once did years ago. "To this day I still ask myself what happened, Wooyoung, what would life have been if you had stayed? What would it be like if we did things differently? For the longest time, I blamed you for leaving, and then myself for letting you go so willingly."

Wooyoung shook his head. "It's not your fault," he gulped. "I blamed myself for your cries that I pretended not to hear, for the anger that consumed me, I blame myself for not holding your hand tighter, for the tears I did not wipe away, and I blame myself for the loss of you."

He stares at me with his tear-stained eyes, not bothering to cover all the emotions he tried to hide earlier. He grinned bitterly at me, I knew how much it meant for anyone to tell him how proud they were of him.

He puts his palm over his chest, eyes closed. "If only you can feel how hard this heart beats for you," he whispered. "It's all for you, but would you be mad if I told you it's not as strong as it once was?"

I wanted to hold his hand once more like we used to do when we were still together, not as lovers, but as good friends, but I was frozen on my chair.

"Why would I be?" I tilted my head curiously, tutting at him lightheartedly to lift the mood in the room. "You underestimate me."

Finally, he smiled genuinely. "I can't help it," he chuckled. "The intensity is less, I can't repair all the hurt I gave you."

He paused, hesitating if he should say what he wanted to say, but he opened his mouth anyway. "You were my dream after all," he whispered begrudgingly. "I was blind not to see it."

That did it. The dread and burden I've been feeling was finally lifted off of me and I finally feel lighter than a feather.

The wounds he gave me were still there and they will heal slowly, but I can't deny my own heart right at this moment.

"Woo?" I smiled tightly. He looked at me expectantly, and it made my insides mushy. "My heart that beated for you will never stop either, so don't beat yourself up. I can never get rid of it."

He stared at me like I held the stars from the sky and offered it to him. In hindsight, I might as well have done it. He scoffed lightly. The insinuation was there, but that's all there is - that I still held him in my heart but it stops here.

"Don't be afraid to try new things, weren't you the one who always told me that? You miss the shots you don't take. If you don't want to make the same mistakes as you did with me, grab them while they're still there," I shrugged.

It was like nothing happened, as if we weren't separated for so long because of our circumstances. We finally caught up, laughed, giggled, gossiped like we used to before things got bad between us. I missed him so much, the way he would laugh like a dying fox, the way his eyes crinkled up, all of it.

We talked, we cried, the whole nine yards. The missing piece I didn't know was missing until now finally completed me. How have I lived that long without him?

"You got your wish now," Wooyoung jokes. "You finally have Mars once you marry Seonghwa."

Ah yes, Seonghwa helped me all throughout my journey. If it wasn't for him, I would have been a goner.

I scoffed, the nostalgia hitting me like a ton of bricks. "I can't believe you still remember that," I laughed. "I do have Hwa now, yes, but the planetarium will always be my first Mars."

Wooyoung smirked playfully. "It had better be. I hated it."

"What?" I threw a pillow at him jokingly. "Why did you take me then?"

"I guess you're going to have to find out, hmm?" he snickered.

He was about to throw a pillow at me too, but when he saw my solemn expression, he stopped. 

This time the nostalgia hit us both. That was exactly what he said when I asked if I had to pay for the very first photo he took of me.

Instead of being sad, one look at each other and we burst out laughing, giggling, and guffawing like hyenas in the wild, not caring if anybody heard us and thought we were crazy.

"Y/N?" Wooyoung uttered endearingly. I hummed in response. "Can I hold your hand for the last time?"

I held my hands for him, and he grabbed it so gently I wanted to cry. They were warm, and he held on yet simultaneously set me free.

He brought my hands to his chest, looking like he wanted to kiss them, but he held back out of respect for Seonghwa. Instead of his lips, tears fell onto them.

"If there is another life," he whispered. "I hope I can meet you again and if not, I will find you until I cease to breathe."

His heartbeat was so steady, and I felt my body shake, and once more, my eyes filled with unshed tears and I cried for the both of us this time. He releases one of my hands and wipes my tears delicately.

"Please don't cry, not for me again," he croaked, trying his very best to stop his own tears. "I don't want you to ruin your makeup."

"It's okay, Seonghwa and his team did my makeup anyway," I sniffled. "I hope in the next life you're not going to hate that you need me."

"Never," he objected. "Even if we don't remember, my heart will know."

I swatted his arm playfully. I never meant to giggle a little at that, he had always been so poetic and so cheesy. I guess some things never change.

"Stay for the wedding and reception, please?" I fretted. "I want my best friend there. Mingi tailored a suit for you in case you came."

I was nervous, afraid that he would reject my plea because he might feel out of place. I sighed a breath of relief when I saw him beam.

"I'll be there," Wooyoung mused. "I owe you this at least, Y/N, and I am going to give you and Seonghwa the best photos you both will ever see."

I cheered internally, but my excitement tipped over the top and I couldn't help but outwardly show it. Wooyoung laughed and we finally pulled ourselves in a hug to seal the deal. It was enough to make up for all the years we spent apart because one touch entwined our souls.

I realized that the electric spark that once tickled my skin whenever Wooyoung touched me was still there, and it was as strong as I knew it to be, but they no longer burned.

More tears made their way on Wooyoung's shirt when I recognized that I had healed a long time ago. I had mourned my loss and woke up anew, and the passing time did wonders too.

"Did you feel that?" Wooyoung mumbled, and I knew he referred to that spark.

"Yes," I squeaked. "Yes, I did. But why did you lie?"

Wooyoung paused from rubbing soothing circles on my back. "What do you mean?"

"I can feel your heart. The intensity never lessened, Wooyoung, you lied."

He pulled away from me, his lips pursed as he held my face with his hands. "I have to," he admitted. "I can't ruin the happiness you have found for yourself."

There were no words that needed to be spoken. We had finally found the closure we both needed.

The rest of Ateez entered the room one by one and gave both of us a knowing look. Wooyoung and I both grinned at them and gave them a thumbs up, to which they cheered loudly.

"You good, darling?" Seonghwa kissed my forehead as the others whisked Wooyoung away with teasing tones so he could change his outfit.

"Thank you, Hwa, thank you so much," I gushed, melting at his solemn embrace.

Seonghwa had always been there for me, he was so loving and patient towards me, and most of all, Seonghwa had chosen me, and I chose him.

He had his work too, he was a makeup artist, and that required traveling a lot, but instead of leaving me like Wooyoung did, Seonghwa did everything in his power to take me with him so we could be together. He didn't give up on the love we shared.

Wooyoung and I still loved each other dearly, but we had chosen our paths a long, long time ago - he chose to leave, and I chose to move on with my life. Seonghwa had made me realize that if you really loved somebody, nothing will stop you. 

I kissed my future husband tenderly on the lips, to which he returned with urgency. The love I felt for him was different from the love I had for Wooyoung, but it burned just as brighter, if not stronger.

It was the true love I had longed to have.

Seonghwa and I finally tied the knot. Our wedding was a celebration of our love and those who came to celebrate it with us. It was simple, pure and all I ever wanted.

"I, Park Seonghwa, promise to love you, L/N Y/N, and cherish you until my last breath, and even then, you have to make sure I'm dead because I will always come back to you," he vowed, making a couple of people laugh. "You came in at the right time of my life, and I promise that for as long as I am here, I will make you the happiest woman on Earth. I love you so, so much, my darling."

I couldn't even get the words out, tearing up profusely especially with how Seonghwa looked at me with such love. At this point I wasn't the only one sniffling.

"I, L/N Y/N, promise to love you, Park Seonghwa, and cherish you until--- wait, if you go, then I'll be lonely, so please don't go," I giggled along with our friends and family. "You are the reason I'm alive, and I cannot believe I am marrying the love of my life. I will be yours as you want me to, Hwa."

The moment the priest announced that Seonghwa can kiss the bride, everybody whooped and cheered loudly and I couldn't help but laugh in between my now husband's kiss. I could've sworn I saw Hongjoong shed a tear or two but San was too busy teasing the elder by cooing at him mockingly.

Yeosang almost protested when Seonghwa's kiss lasted a little too long, but Wooyoung had quickly covered his mouth and pulled him away while he flailed his arms comically.

The wedding reception was a beautiful garden party that oversaw the lake. We were all surrounded by the fragrant petals that amplified the romantic sunset that gave the sky a pretty tinge of pink and purple.

Yunho was a wonderful host despite the initial nervousness he held and there was never a dull moment, especially when Mingi had caught the flower bouquet I had thrown over my shoulder. The gentle giant's reddened face was definitely the highlight of the night.

Jongho's voice filled the entire reception, to which me and Seonghwa encouraged everybody to dance to the rhythm whether Jongho sang a passionate song for us or an upbeat jazzy tune that made all of us dance the night away. Of course in between, me and my now husband would kiss and everyone would hoot.

Just as our wedding and love were elegant and sweet, so was our wedding cake. Everybody dwindled down to eat and drink to their heart's content. My feet were killing me anyway so I chose to sit down at my spot at the front with Seonghwa.

"You really went all out with this, huh?" I teased him.

He laughed, his deep sending delicious shivers up my spine. "Heck yeah," he snorted. "This is a once in a lifetime thing, baby."

As we watched everyone enjoy the night with their friends and family, I saw Wooyoung bowing to this old man, a friend of my father's, with a huge smile on his face after giving him his calling card.

I was happy for him, it looks like he finally followed his heart and scored another deal after being scared of doing another one. I watched him take his phone out and call somebody giddily, and when he dropped the call, I laughed as I saw him punch the air in excitement.

It was as if he knew someone was watching him. Wooyoung looked back and we made eye contact for the last time as old lovers. There were no words between us, but a million things in our eyes as we finally let go of all the hurt.

He smiled at me, nodding once, and I did the same, smiling back at him softly, before he turned around and left the venue.

And just like that, he was gone.

[drdemonprince]

Re: autistic advice; i keep seeing people making fun of stuff like "are you in a place to hear bad news" or scripts like that. I grew up in an environment where it was common practice to just drop heavy subjects on people out of the blue, & I still find that intensely uncomfortable. But I've now had multiple people tell me that it makes them feel shitty when I ask, for example, "are you up for a dark subject?" & I don't really know how to square it away. I want to make sure that I'm not stepping on anyone's toes or making them feel ambushed or trapped, but apparently it makes some people feel like they're not allowed to have their feelings. I end up feeling pretty shitty about it, because like... it feels like either I have to be Rude (because it DOES feel rude to just drop a dark topic on someone) &/or risk having something shitty I can't deal with dropped in my lap, or else really upset people. I guess... is there a way to navigate this?

I would recommend being more specific.

People find phrases like "Are you in a place to hear something that might hurt you?" and "Are you up for a dark subject?" to be a bit presumptuous about what their emotional reactions will be or what they are capable of handling. It also can make what would have otherwise been a very unremarkable exchange become tinged with anticipatory anxiety.

When someone asks me a question like "are you up to hear something dark?" I might feel coddled and condescended to, rather than emotionally respected. Or if they ask me "are you prepared to hear something that might hurt you?" / "are you up for a serious conversation?" I think they're about to drop some serious emotional bomb on me, like that they're friend-dumping me for something horrible that I didn't realize I did. Then when it ends up being a meme they want to share or a question about a celebrity lawsuit or something i'm kind of pissed at the false alarm and the coddling that, rather than protecting me, made me feel worse.

In either case, rather than giving me time to emotionally prepare or interact when I am ready, these vague questions have introduced some kind signal of social or emotional threat. If anything, it increases the felt urgency to just have the damn conversation already and see what kind of monster is lurking behind the person's words. It makes me *less* likely to exercise control over when the conversation happens or when I see the upsetting thing.

So be specific. "Do you wanna see a disgusting meme?" "I want your opinion on something, but the question touches on sexual assault. Is that okay to talk about?" "I want to talk to you about a conflict I'm having with my other partner." "Can I ask you your opinion on this transphobia discourse?" Etc.

The more specific you can be about the subject and why you are asking about it, the more power you are giving the other person to actually decide what they want to engage with. When someone asks me if I am willing to discuss something dark, I really have no idea what to say. They're imposing their judgement of what is a dark or upsetting topic onto me, when really they have no idea what I might find triggering and what I might really enjoy getting to talk about.

Rather than trying to protect me from something I haven't even encountered yet, you gotta let me encounter it, and actually trust that I will take care of myself. If I don't want to talk about sexual assault I won't, if I don't want to look at gross imagery I'll say no, if hearing one more bad thing about your other partner is going to make my jealousy fume, I am responsible for handling that. You're not responsible for my emotions.

It's good to notice which subjects your friends are especially sensitive to and what big triggers they have so that you can be considerate. My friends know I cant look at lots of blood flowing out of someone for instance and dont send me visuals/fics that feature, say, wrists being slit or blood being drawn. But if they forgot, I'd understand and just look away and squeal oh no i cant look at that get it away. And that would be fine. They are not responsible for my reactions to things.

[copperbadge]

Lately, it's felt like every time I've started to work on writing, I'll just be getting into the rhythm of it when I get interrupted, either by work or the cats or because the time I'd booked in the library study room is up (you can only do two hours at a time, and only four hours a week total). It was getting to the point where I kept re-reading the same chapter or so of previous work but never managing to add to it.

So I tried an experiment this past weekend -- I found a really cheap rate on a local hotel room, and on Friday I took an overnight bag and a very old laptop with limited processing power and checked into a room about a mile from home for a quasi "staycation". I unpacked and had a quiet night on Friday, as prelude to working Saturday-Sunday. The idea was to write uninterrupted by other people, pets, the presence of all my Stuff around me at home, et cetera.

I had snacks but I also bought meals out, which was nice; I don't often order in or buy out when I'm at home. The way I set up was that I would do fifty minutes of writing with do-not-disturb engaged on my phone and then ten minutes of checking email, texts, etc. since often what pulls me out of writing is a text or an email that needs answering, or the anxiety that I'm missing one that would. If I set it so that every hour I check, well, nobody's going to die if something doesn't get answered in an hour, so the anxiety isn't there, and neither is the distraction. (I found a nice app for this, review later depending on how functional it continues to be for me, but it's a like $4 app called Forest.)

It worked pretty well -- writing for an uninterrupted hour, as long as I know what I'm working on, is very functional for me. I average about two thousand words, that way, though there is a limit to the number of hours I can put in. I ended up doing two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon, then switched from fiction writing to clearing out my tumblr drafts and some correspondence for the fourth hour. So it went something like

Go out and get breakfast, bring back and eat in room

Change into lounging clothes and do two one-hour sessions

Go out and get lunch, eat lunch out

Bit of a rest break back in the room

Two one-hour sessions, one of writing; when tired, switch to something that requires less creativity

Go out and get dinner, bring back and eat in room

And then in the evening the plan was to watch movies or catch up on reading, but I ended up being mentally weary, so instead I did some simple tarot reading. It was less divination or even meditation than just messing around, keeping the creativity stimulated; I did a couple of Creative Writing spreads, some very brief divination spreads (I nicked a nice three-card spread here that I mentally call He To Hecuba, and just used it in general rather than for a specific question) and then invented a spread when I was starting to get irritated that the same like, five cards kept coming up, more on this in its own post.

Sunday I did one more writing session but it was less successful, I think partly because what I was writing required a lot of research and partly because the previous day I'd dumped eight thousand words into the file. (Research took longer because I brought the most garbage laptop known to man, and the browsers crash if you try to open Google Maps, but in other ways it was ideal since there wasn't much I could do on it other than write.) But I had a good breakfast, got some rest, packed up easily enough, and headed home just ahead of the rain storm.

I don't think it's something I'll be able to do in that format especially often, since the deal I got on the hotel was an anomaly and Chicago lodging, even just AirBNB stuff, is stupid expensive. But in addition to helping get some work done it was a nice break, so I'm going to look into ways I could swing it on a perhaps monthly basis, or some other way to cheaply spend an entire day alone with decent access to a bathroom/snacks and a way to come and go easily. I've looked into coworking spaces before but they tend to be prohibitively expensive and don't really have the setup I'd prefer; there's a hostel on the north side with private rooms that I might try out but it doesn't seem significantly cheaper than a hotel. I might just have to pick one weekend a month and watch last-minute hotel price cuts where they simply want to fill a room for a day or two.

Anyway, functionally I wrote almost a fifth of a novel this weekend, and one that I wasn't feeling super on fire about; I'm feeling much better about it now that I've got some established plot going and I feel like I "know" the newer characters a bit better. (Also I'm enjoying writing Simon as someone who is absolutely entranced by his love interest and clueless that what he's feeling isn't mild antipathy because they met while fighting over ricotta.) So it was a big help, although if I were to put a budget line item in the Extribulum Press ledger for "writing staycation" it would wipe out my royalties surplus very quickly.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Do You Want To Know A Secret (Teen!George Harrison x Teen!Lennon!Reader)

A/N: Hello, Happy Easter! I'm posting another oneshot, because why not? I feel like it could have been a little better than what I wrote, but I was in a bit of a rush to get it out. Who doesn't love some George?

Summary: It's 1961. You're John's sister and he refuses to let you talk to anyone in his band (and vice versa) despite your house being their practice location. George scores some alone time with you one day, and sings you a little song he composed for you.

WARNINGS: SUGGESTIVE BEHAVIOUR; the reader is pretty confident in this oneshot. Mentions of sex, but nothing further than a heated make out session/ neck kissing really occurs in this. Swearing, probably, but I could be wrong. George starts out shy but he is not by the end. There are probably some typos as well oops.

This one is T rated, but just read at your own risk because as mentioned, sex is discussed

It was 1961, a relatively warm Friday evening after dinner, where an eighteen year old George Harrison was accompanied by a nineteen year-old Paul McCartney, on the way to the Lennon household.

Band practice was that night, the newly renamed "Beatles" preparing for their next gig at the Cavern Club just that following evening. George had his guitar case in hand, and Paul, his base, as they walked and talked.

John's house could be spotted from where the two were now, and George, who was talking in that moment, lost train of thought when he spotted someone just outside the front door.

That someone was you. John's little sister. Aged eighteen; like George.

George could feel his heart fluttering as he watched you move around the front garden, watering can in hand as you tended to the little flowers in the window planters.

"Don't stare," Paul lightly chided in a sing-song tone, wagging his finger at George when he came back down to earth, cheeks flush at the idea of having been caught looking.

"But look at her," George groaned, hand gesturing towards you haphazardly before dropping it down helplessly at his side. "Just look at how perfect--"

"And off limits," Paul added quickly.

"... she is," George sighed as he finished his sentence, a rather upsetting frown on his face. The boys had since halted walking, making sure to be far enough away that you weren't in earshot of their conversation.

"Look, Harry," Paul rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder in comfort. "I know how you feel. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think she was a looker, y'know?"

Paul and George glanced over at you for a moment, before he continued.

"... but if I had a sister, and three lads who couldn't keep their eyes off her, I couldn't say I wouldn't be doing what Lenny's doing right now."

George knew that Paul was right. As much as he hated it, John loved you very much, and was cautious of any guy trying to be near you, especially now that you were a young adult, and not some child.

Every time the band gathered at John's house, everyone seemed to be under a microscope-- including you. The boys weren't allowed to talk to you, and you couldn't even look at anyone without your brother hollering at you to get upstairs, or to refocus back to your homework, or whatever task you had at hand.

But in moments like this, where the protective older brother wasn't around, George took every chance he could to greet you with a smile on his face.

And he wasn't going to stop now.

"I get it, mate. I just... there's something about her." That's the simplest George could have explained it to Paul. He wasn't about to disclose that he dreamt of you almost every night, or that he relished in the moments of excitement and anxiety of being able to see you, if only for five seconds out of his entire week.

And he certainly would not have told him about the songs he was composing; his muse being you, of course.

It was all just one giant secret, and as much as George wanted to tell you, all he thought of were downsides in result of revealing such a thing to you.

George thought that you, for starters, were leaps and bounds out of his league, he was scared of being laughed at, and he would have been absolutely horrified if John were to ever find out.

The negatives drastically outweighed the positives, so he was better to keep his mouth shut.

George and Paul continued their trek to the building, and when they finally made it to the walkway leading to the door, you turned your head, smiling gently and waving to them once you realized who it was.

"Good afternoon, lads," you greeted politely, and George nearly melted at the sound of your voice.

"Hello, Miss Lennon," the boys responded in unison. George cringed a little at that, pushing through the door with Paul following close behind. As much as he wanted to stick around, he knew it would have been too risky.

And thank God he made made that choice. John was waiting for them in the main foyer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't seem too happy, but he wasn't quite pissed off, either; almost as if he were in limbo of the two.

"'Bout time yous showed up. Me n' Pete've been waiting forever. C'mon, now." John waved his hand as he headed for the basement stairs, and the boys wordlessly continued on so they could begin their practice. George only looked over his shoulder once before descending the steps, hoping to have caught just one more glimpse of you, but to no avail.

"We have a show tomorrow, and you boys decided to be a quarter of an hour late!" John complained on as he threw his guitar strap over his shoulder. Pete was in the corner of the room on his drum set just shaking his head as he grabbed his drumsticks and tapped a little on his instrument. he must have been there for a while already.

Paul and George hurriedly grabbed out their instruments, apologizing so the older boy's complaints would cease. "As long as you're ready to play now, I don't care."

John always got sort of tense when the other three boys were over, hyper-focussed on keeping you away from them and vice versa. He was more or less worried about Paul trying to flirt with you, so a lot of John's poor behaviour stemmed from that.

Little did he know that it was actually George who'd fallen head over heels for you.

But that wasn't something to worry about in that moment. What was important was that practice began, and that they had to see improvement before their show just that following night.

Practice was going well. They had been at it for nearly an hour at that point, and the more they worked, the more pleased each boy was with the sound. They took a brief pause for some water, and John was rifling through his pile of lyrics sitting on a table in the corner of the room, trying to decide which one to practice next.

As George finished the last drop of water in his glass, John piped up, "I don't have all my songs here. Must've left them in my room."

"Which ones?" George asked, empty glass still in-hand. "I'm running up for a refill, might as well grab that for you as well."

"I think I left them on my desk at the side. You sure you don't want me running up?"

George swatted his hand as he started for the stairs. "Don't worry 'bout it. Be back in a jiff."

George hopped up the stairs, leaving his glass on the kitchen counter next to the sink before moving down the main foyer. He paused at the front door to peek out the window to see if you were still outside, but he didn't see you from where he was standing. He sighed gently before turning and making his way up to the second floor.

George made his way down to John's room at the end of the hallway. It was the only room with the door open, and before he even made it into the room, he could see the pile of lyrics on the desk, right where John said they'd be.

He picked up the pile, shuffling through them and counting the pages as he did so. He took one more brief glance around the room to make sure he wasn't missing anything else. When he decided this was all he needed, he turned on his heel and headed out to the hallway.

George was just about to make it to the stairs when he felt someone take hold of his arm, and swiftly tug him into one of the other rooms. The moment was a blur for him, and it took him a second to piece together what happened. He was standing in the middle of the room-- your room.

And you were only three feet away from him, back against the door, and cheeks glowing pink.

"Hello," you smiled gently, and George had no clue what to say, pages clutched tightly against his chest as his brain swirled with millions of thoughts.

"Hi," he squeaked, face burning in humiliation at his flustered state, but he was in your room, for Christ's sake. Your room! He had no clue what to say to you, mouth hanging open as he tried to search his brain for some other words.

"Look, I know we're not supposed to be doing this," you expressed, and George could feel his heart doing violent flips in his chest, especially when you pushed yourself off the door to take a step or two closer to him. This was the longest conversation he had with you, to date.

"Johnny would kill me if he knew I had a boy in my room, you know," you took a moment to pause, and all George could do was nod his head in agreement, intoxicated by the way you walked, and the way you talked. There was a hint of something in your voice... but the boy couldn't quite place what it was. Yearning? That couldn't be right... could it?

"But where's the fun in that, huh?" You asked, hands clasped behind your back, eyes staring right back into his, and George couldn't help but break his gaze first, utterly intimidated by your confidence. His eyes fixated to the dress you were wearing, and he could see a playful smile dancing on your lips in his peripheral.

"... You like what you see, Georgie?" You asked lowly after a moment, and his stare shot back up to your face again, certain his legs were numb. The nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, so perfectly. The things it was doing to him...

"I..." he could barely speak, breaths ragged. Not one coherent thought was at the forefront of his brain, other than one simple word.

"Pretty." Your smile was a little more genuine now after he said that, and you reached a hand up to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear.

"You think I'm pretty?"

George just nodded again. It was only now that he realized how much shorter you were compared to him, as you were only a foot away from him; the closest you'd ever been. He was looking down at you, but you were, in no way, intimidated by him. It was actually quite the opposite.

"You know, Georgie, you're pretty handsome, yourself," you professed, smiling wider as George's face burned even hotter.

He couldn't even thank you, scared of what would have happened if he tried to utter any kind of response to you. You reached out to rest a hand on his arm, and your smile faltered just a little.

"You're really tense... am I making you uncomfortable?" George's eyes widened, swallowing nervously as he shook his head 'no' as quickly as he could. He didn't want-- whatever this was-- to stop. The sincere upturn of your lips returned, and George couldn't help but flit his gaze down to your lips.

If only he had as much confidence as you, he might have just dipped down to have a taste...

"Look, I don't wanna keep you any longer. I know Johnny's gonna be looking for you soon." You thought for a moment before mentioning, "usually after you boys leave, he's down there for another hour or so practicing his own songs. Come back and see me after, yeah? Get to know each other a little more?" You raised an eyebrow expectantly, and George nodded his head again.

"Okay," he managed to whisper, resulting in you rising to your toes, and wordlessly pecking him on the cheek.

He felt like he was dreaming.

"Run along now, before they get suspicious!"

George's feet, though seemingly glued to the floor moments before, took off quickly, opening the door, and disappearing out into the hallway, shutting it closed behind him. As soon as he was on his own, he sighed heavily, the rush of oxygen in his lungs making him feel light-headed.

For someone who seemed so innocent in the open, around others, George could never have guessed how much of a minx you were behind closed doors. One part of him was still in denial that his interaction with you was even real, let alone meant to be flirtatious in any way...

But man, he would have been stupid not to take you up on your offer. It was just another hour he had to spend practicing, and he'd be right back in there, hopefully earning another kiss on the cheek from you.

George looked at the lyric papers in his hands one last time before sighing one more time, and going back downstairs. He passed his forgotten water glass in the kitchen, mind on an entirely different planet.

He returned to the basement, handing John the papers. He thanked the younger boy, pausing for a second to watch him move to grab his guitar.

"Where's your glass, Harry?"

George tensed when John asked that, hand on the neck of the guitar.

"... Left it upstairs,"  he responded.

"Thought you were grabbing a refill?" John's inquiries had George grasping for what to say next, but he was quick enough.

"Refilled the glass up there, drank it, and figured I'd be fine for the rest of practice."

His confession, though a lie, was believable enough for John, who just nodded his head slowly and drew his attention to the papers after a second, discussing which song they were going to practice next.

George just flew under the radar then, and he mentally cursed himself for being so careless. He look a quick glance at Paul, who was giving him a look; almost as if he knew something happened up there.

But he would never know the truth.

The shared glance fell apart when John advised everyone to get into position for playing, and they did just that.

The hour seemed to drag, George felt; but as time moved on, the more anxious he began to feel again. By the time everyone was packing up to leave, he was almost vibrating with anxiety.

He wanted to be close to you again so badly, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself as he had in the last interaction.

Pete, Paul, and George wished John a good night, and climbed the stairs to the main floor in that order, leaving John alone to continue practicing. Pete left Paul and George in the main hallway with a little wave, and a short "see yous tomorrow," before taking off out the front door.

Paul grabbed the door handle next and turned back to George, who stood in one spot a little too far away from the door.

"... Not walking home with me?" He asked in confusion, and when George didn't have a disposable answer, the pieces seemed to be finally clicking for the other boy.

He opened his mouth as if to lecture George on how bad of an idea sticking around would be, but instead, he tightened his jaw, shook his head, and waved to him.

"G'night Harry," he tossed a little wave out before taking off into the dusk.

He was alone now.

That could only mean one thing.

George eyed the stairs, knowing that if he turned on his heel and walked out right then, it'd be one of the biggest mistakes in his life. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was nervous; intimidated by you, and your assertive, rather sexy behaviour from earlier.

He took a deep breath, grabbing the railing, and hiking up the stairs slowly.

He stood outside your bedroom door much longer than he would have liked to admit, taking deep breaths and reciting words over and over again in his brain, as if this whole interaction were scripted-- as if he knew what was going to happen.

When he finally composed himself properly, he rapped on the door gently, hoping you would hear his presence on the other side. When you finally came around to open the door, his heart skipped a beat.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," you voiced softly, leaning against the doorframe, handle still in hand. You sounded a little relieved, almost, seeing the boy on the other side of the threshold.

You were in your pyjamas, a set that showed enough skin on your arms and legs that it made George, red-faced, shake his head to reactivate his brain, which pretty much short circuited.

"You goin' to bed?" His words left his mouth faster than he realized he was even saying them. Sure, it was getting late out, but would you have really changed if you were expecting company?

"Well, that depends. Will you be joining me?" You were so quick on your feet in response that it honestly impressed George, the heat returning to his face as he tried to think of what to say next, not daring to drop his line of sight below your chin.

"I'm only teasing you," you laughed after a moment of watching George squirm, pushing off the doorframe and allowing him to enter your bedroom again. As he passed you, he caught sight of you gazing up his body, shrugging and adding a little "... maybe," to the end of your sentence.

You were such a tease, and George set his guitar case off to the side, facing away from you, so he could hide just how giddy and flushed he was just being in there with you again. He rose to his feet and turned to face you. You were only a few feet away from him again, eyes on him intensely, smile still present.

"... I hope you know just how glad I am that you came back," you expressed again, honestly. George raised an eyebrow at that, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wanted to tear his gaze from yours so badly, but your face was just so gorgeous to look at, and he didn't want to be caught looking at your outfit again; he knew some more teasing would surely ensue if he was caught staring.

"Why wouldn't I come back?" George replied bashfully, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Wouldn't miss a chance to be here, with you, for the world."

Your stare softened at his words, beaming as your own cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. George wasn't sure you were really expecting something like that coming from him. "... You really mean that?"

George desperately wanted to elaborate a little further, but he just settled on giving you a little nod, smiling back shyly at your question.

"Maybe I thought I might've scared you off for being so forward earlier," you admitted timidly as you turned on your heel. You took a seat at the edge of your bed, and George surveyed your movements, eyebrows lifting a little when you reached out to pat the empty space next to you on the mattress after a moment.

"Care to take a seat?"

George accepted the invitation, and you felt the bed dip when he sat down. His eyes cast down to the floor, face still red at the idea of being in your presence; having your attention.

"You know, Georgie... my brother can be pretty stupid sometimes. But making this house the place for band practice, I think, was one of the best decisions he's ever made."

His eyes met yours again at your words, and you shrugged one of your shoulders.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't been dying to talk to you. Or get to know you. You seem so kind, and you're so attractive, and John wants to keep you away from me, and I'm so sick of him deciding what's best for me."

Your eyes cast down between the both of you for a moment, and George could feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest. His fingertips felt numb, mouth hanging slack as you continued your profession.

"I knew the only way to get close and alone with you was to bring you in here. And I saw the way you were looking at me earlier, and I had to get you to come back."

It felt like the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Was he really that obvious when he was in here last?

"It's thrilling... having a boy like you in my room, while John's clueless out there as to what we're doing. What we could be doing..."

George's mind was going places he was never expecting it to that evening, especially with the help of you voicing it aloud. He was in utter disbelief of what you were telling him, convinced he'd fallen asleep throughout the day, and he was caught in some blissful dream he wished would never end.

"I feel a little selfish, springing so much information on you at once... but every time I see you, I desperately want to be with you; and today, I had to jump to take that chance. I couldn't wait another week, another day."

You smiled sheepishly, not really expecting George to say anything after that. You were honestly just trying to get your thoughts off your chest, and now that you had, you felt a lot better. You were also pleased with the little look of shock on George's face. You liked doing that to him.

You decided to break his trance by nodding over to his guitar case sitting on the floor. "So... You have plans to serenade me, Georgie?"

Your question definitely brought him back down to earth, and he took a quick glance at the case before looking back to you. Your confession was still ringing clear in his head like a bell. He felt he didn't have the words to admit his feelings as clearly as you had right on the spot...

He did, however, have the words pre-planned as lyrics, in a multitude of original songs he wrote for you.

"... I do, actually," he agreed, standing up to open his case and retrieve his instrument. George was feeling a little more excited now, knowing any girl these days would swoon at the idea of having music written for them, and he just hoped you would too.

He returned to the bed, deciding against tossing the strap over his shoulder. He faced you so you could hear and see every little thing he did. He was at least glad he didn't get performance anxiety on the guitar.

He gently strummed out a few different notes, deciding in his head which song he wanted to perform for you. One in particular stuck out in his mind, and he couldn't deny that it was the perfect choice.

He was a little worried about how you'd feel about his playing, and the lyrics, but he wanted to show you that he could be confident about this, especially since he was nearly certain now that his feelings were reciprocated. But he had to play it cool.

"It is a work in progress. I've only half of it written, but I really think you'll like it," George explained to you before allowing the notes to fill the air around you both.

"Listen,

Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise not to tell?

Closer,

Let me whisper in your ear,

Say the words you long to hear,

I'm in love with you."

It was only then that you realized this was the first time you'd ever seen, or heard George play. This beautiful genius was being hidden away from you this whole time, and it was a blessing to see his work up close.

His left hand slid along the fretboard so easily, thumb and fingers on his right tickling the strings as if it were second nature to him. You couldn't decide which hand you wanted to look at. His digits were skillful on the instrument, and George made sure to almost exaggerate his movements to impress you.

He pretty much had you in a trance, now, daydreaming about what else those hands could do...

"I've known a secret for a week, or two,

Nobody knows, just we two,"

George had been worried the whole song about messing up the notes, eyes so focused on where his fingers were going... But he glanced up at you, realizing how hypnotized you were, like putty in his hands, and he decided there was nothing to worry about.

He decided to sing right to you now, soft eyes on your face, and when your field of view locked with his, he knew he wouldn't dare break the stare.

"Listen,"

This wasn't a song anymore.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

This was his confession.

"Do you promise not to tell?"

His way of showing you what you really meant to him.

"Closer,"

He wasn't clouded by any insecurities or doubt anymore.

"Let me whisper in your ear,"

Your gaze flitted down just enough to watch George's canines poke out from behind his lips as he sung, and your eyelashes lowered at the sight of his beautiful mouth.

"Say the words you long to hear,"

Your mind was absorbing the lyrics like a sponge in water, every single word eliciting a feeling so strong in your heart, you could hear it pumping in your ears.

"I'm in love with you."

George hummed away as he played the final notes, a little smile still on his lips when he let the last chord ring out into a room of silence.

When that stillness remained for a moment, George couldn't help but ask with a little bit of hesitation, "Well... what do you thi--"

He couldn't even get the rest of his question out before you darted at him, lips smashing into his as if he were about to disappear forever.

He let out a little surprised hum before he pulled the guitar out from between the both of you, and you took it as an opportunity to push your body closer to him, arms wrapping around his collarbone.

He blindly set the guitar down to lean it against your bed, and when he let go of the neck of the instrument, his hands went for your hips, squeezing your sides gently before pulling you right up into his lap. your actions bloomed a type of self-assurance within him he had no idea he could even possess.

It was your turn to squeal excitedly, but George's lips on yours muffled the sound. One of his hands snaked around to the small of your back before it slipped under your shirt, his palm dragging up your spine. His fingertips took note of each vertebrae it dipped up and down into, like the frets on his guitar.

This, George decided, was better than a dream. This whole situation unfolding around him made him feel as though he died and went to heaven.

He pulled his lips away from yours, free hand reaching up to grip your chin and directing you to tilt your head up. His lips suckled on the side of your neck, and the sound coming from your mouth was absolutely euphoric to him. But he removed his palm from your chin to cover your mouth, his other hand still feeling and memorizing every curve and dip in your back.

"You must be quiet, Love. Wouldn't want your brother knowing about all this fun we're having up here, eh?" Your eyes rolled back at his words, groaning into his hand as you felt George drag his teeth gently along the column of your throat.

Knowing you were enjoying this as much as he was only brought more confidence to his actions, and he let his tongue poke out to leave a large, wet kiss on your collarbone.

You were squirming in his lap, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging so he knew he was doing everything right.

He groaned at the friction you were creating at the hips, and he pulled away from your neck to kiss your lips again after removing his hand and placing it on the back of your neck.

You swallowed his moans as you continued to grind in his lap, but both of your movements paused when you heard the guitar come crashing down to the carpeted floor. It wasn't as loud as it could have been, but it was loud enough.

You both kept an ear out, knowing that might have caught the attention of someone downstairs, and when you began to hear footsteps shuffling around, you began to panic a little, eyes wide and darting back to George, whose face was flushed from the assault of your kisses, and hair was a tangled mess from your fingers.

"You gotta hide," you rushed out quietly, and though you tried to climb out of George's lap, his hands kept you planted right where you were.

"What are you doing?!"

"... What if I didn't?" He challenged you a little, a daring smirk at his lips.

"Had you not been so naughty, with all that moving and teasing, the guitar wouldn't have fallen, eh? And we wouldn't be in this situation at all." The points of his canines were showing again, and you groaned at his words.

"George, I'd love to continue this, but John will kill you if we're caught, and we can't do this if you're dead!"

"Well then we just won't get caught," he responded simply. He was blinded by desire, his confidence seeping out of him like sap from a tree as he placed his mouth back on your neck.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and you both heard a knock, George not showing any sign of stopping his actions.

"Don't come in, I'm-- I'm not wearing any clothes!!" It was the first thing you could blurt out to whoever was on the other side.

"Oh, baby, that'd be a sight to see," George mumbled against your skin, pulling your top down just enough so he could suck a dark spot just above your left breast so you could easily hide it away, and you sighed heavily at the contact, face burning red.

"Just heard a loud thud. Just making sure all is okay," it was John on the other side; completely oblivious to the actual scene occurring on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, a book from my shelf was knocked over! N-nothing to worry about!"

George grabbed your chin again when you were finished talking, shoving his tongue right into your mouth as you both heard John respond with, "oh, okay. Just making sure you're alright. Have a good night."

You listened closely as the footsteps quieted, and when there was no sign of anyone else on the second floor, let alone at the door, you pulled away from George's kiss.

"Well... how was that?"

"Risky," you replied, a rather unimpressed look on your face as you unraveled your arms from George's shoulders and crossed them over your chest.

"Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, Love," he tried to give you another kiss, but you placed your fingers against his lips. It was your turn to smirk mischievously.

"You know what, Georgie... I think you've had enough action for tonight."

You could see the smug grin fall right off George's face as you removed your hand. Surely you had to have been joking. But when you pushed a little to get off him, his arms fell to his side, a little pout on his face.

"You're serious? Love, you got me all hot and bothered..."

"George, you really thought we were going to go all the way tonight with other people in the house?" You laughed out loud at that; and when you said it like that, he would have had to agree that it did sound ridiculous.

"Trust me, Georgie, I want to," you placed a hand on his cheek in comfort, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he looked up at you as if he was the shy boy you interacted with just an hour before.

"But we both know doing that in an empty house would be far better than having to keep quiet about it, huh?"

All George could do was imagine that situation, eyes drifting shut, and tilting his head into your caressing hand.

"You're such a damn tease," he mumbled, eyes blinking back open after a moment.

"All good things come to those who wait," was all you said, leaving one, sweet kiss on his lips before pulling away, and nodding to his guitar. "We better pack you up and send you home."

You watched as George situated himself, placing his guitar back in the case, closing it and picking it up. You wrapped your arms around him gently, planting another kiss on his cheek.

"By the way... I think that song was beautiful," you whispered to him, and when you pulled away to see him smiling at you, you couldn't help but match the grin on your own lips.

"See you next week? Same time?"

"You don't even have to tell me twice," George responded with, and you just had to lean in for one more smooch on the lips, to which he eagerly reciprocated.

He then opened your window up, and took a step out. You watched as he climbed down the corner of the house slowly, and before he took off down the road, he blew you a kiss, to which you mimicked catching with your hand.

As George headed home, the sun now fallen over the horizon, those intimate moments he shared with you were at the very forefront of his mind. His hands could still feel your bare skin under his fingertips, and his mouth tingled as he remembered what it was like to have your lips on his.

He was just craving for the next moment he had alone with you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: And there we are! hope you all enjoy this, and I hope your Easter weekend was full of sun, and fun! Please let me know if you want to read more so I know it' worth it to post!

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[stazsi]

Right time

warnings: break up, mentions of kissing, basically sad shit ex!matt ;(

my notes : okay so this is my first one shot or whatever. i'm not rlly wanting to make it a 2 parter so imma leave this here hehe. :)) ( i'm sorry it's so sad )

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ﾟ✧

it's been 4 weeks since matt and i roughly broke up and he still hasn't stopped trying to contact me.

message after message and tears after tears.

I've always believed in right person, wrong time but if i love him this much why can't i have him now? i don't understand why he can't let go after breaking up with me, so that's why i'm outside his door right now trying to build courage to knock, the floor boards creak inside the house telling me someone's home.

anxiety flowing through my veins as i stand here, the wind flowing against my back giving me chills

knock,knock

..

click.

i straighten my back and look up listening to the the sweet but threatening sound of the lock clicking, reminding myself why i'm even here. i stand frozen staring into them blue eyes i'm used to, just puffier. "hi.." i whisper my voice a little louder than the branches cracking behind me. he stares at me clearly in shock and regret, we haven't seen eachother since the breakup and clearly it shows.

i slowly back up keeping my space, i try to let words escape my mouth but they're stuck in my throat same with my breathing, my stomach swirls and suddenly every body part itches from the sweat. his face goes pale blue with sadness and he slightly moves to the side sweetly inviting me in with no words.

i walk past him his strong cologne infecting my nose, i sit down on the couch and place my bag on the scratched up table. as i look around their house there's so many memories i didn't know i'd be so sadly familiar with. like the dent in the wall from when chris threw my heels, the countless coffee stains on the table from my rough mornings here..and the more i look the sadder i get, tears threatening to escape my eyes, it's silly really..i shouldn't be this sad about a ruined wall or table, even looking down hurts my heart; it's like someone is stabbing a hot cigarette into my fragile heart.

"y/n?" he speaks with sadness, i think he has been trying to get my attention but i've been looking around and forming a wetness on my face from my eyes .

i quickly wipe my light red cheeks and straighten up wiping the tears of embarrassment against my blue ripped jeans. i apologise and clear my clogged up throat.

"what are you doing here?" he asks sitting down and licking his lips, a thing he does when he's nervous he doesn't want dry lips and wants to present himself and act like hes not nervous

i don't wanna tell him why i'm here, i don't even know how to tell him.

i don't even know why i'm here

the silence thickens and as the seconds go on i regret this more and more.

"i don't know" i finally speak up allowing him to un-tense and let out a healing loud sigh.

it's starting to get more awkward as seconds turn into minutes and tears fall

"i'm sorry y/n" he lets out his volume decreasing, almost like he regrets starting to speak. he's sorry. i'm sorry. why can't we be the same? hes said his apologies so why isn't his aura yellow, happy like we normally are? why can't we go and laugh on fun car drives or cry in each others arms why are we separated?

"was there someone else?" i whisper my voice and heart breaking halfway through of the thought of him being with someone else.

he flinches. as if this question is important, as if i'm right.

"y/n.." he says trying to console me "there was someone else?" i ask knowing the answer but unable to believe it, my world just broke in two. the room spins vertically and horizontally and time stops giving me a second to break down, tears escape rather fast and i'm unable to breathe the dizziness taking over my whole body.

i nearly said sorry just because i don't want this to be true i don't want this life i want me and matt happy together i don't want a cheater i want matt. normal matt. happy in love matt. We've been doing this dance for a while now, the fallen out of love dance. one step forward then he spins me all the way back, the music slows down till it eventually breaks up into static and we're no longer dancing. we're just here.

imagining all the times he kissed her, hugged her, told her she's special, the compliments.

i feel his stare stabbing me like thousands shards of glass as i sat there, staring into his familiar yet deadly eyes, i felt a surge of emotions welling up within myself. the silence between us is deafening, broken only by the haunting echoes of my own heartache. suddenly, the words escaped his lips, shattering the fragile hope i've clung to for so long. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt and in that moment, the weight of his confession hung in the air, suffocating the remaining fragments of trust and love - the truth, like a jagged blade, pierced through my heart, leaving behind a raw ache that no amount of apologies could soothe. nothing could mend our wounds, our love can't be replaced or fixed. I felt a surge of conflicting emotions raging within. betrayal, hurt, and a burning desire to escape engulfed my senses. without a word, I rose to my feet, my movements fueled by a mix of anguish and determination. every step I took echoed the resounding ache in my heart, a painful rhythm that matched the cadence of his footsteps behind me.

I could hear him calling my name, barely as my ears are focused on any other sound than his voice, that one sweet voice that once made me feel the most special but now it's disgusting and tinged with desperation, but I dared not turn back the tears that stung my eyes blurred the path ahead, yet I keep on, driven by my sadness and panic from the shattered pieces of our love. His hand reached out, barely touching my hand, but I still felt the strong energy between us.

the air was thick with unsaid words and broken promises, a weight that hung heavy between us even if we are a 10 minute drive away. i can still hear him pleading to me as i lay lifeless in my bed unable to even flinch or blink. breathing hurts and falling asleep becomes difficult. my mind clouded unable to shut down all alone i lay, without him by my side.

maybe it isn't the right time.

my notes; i love and hate this okay thanku for reading💙

[needlepokes]

how to write a diabetic character: CGM edition

is your diabetic character wearing a CGM? do they have to? CGMs these are Continous Glucose Monitors that can detect how much sugar is in your bloodstream.

How are they different than tradtional fingerprick (blood) tests? they take blood sugar readings 24/7, and provide you with how your sugars are doing at all times, rather than just at that moment. This leads to tremendously better control over blood sugar.

The way they work is that they can "sample" your blood sugar by testing your subcutaneous tissue for sugar levels then adjusting that value.

However, they're less accurate than a fingerprick (blood) reading and will often "lag" behind by about 15 minutes.

SO if you have a character who is expereincing low or high blood sugar - they'd get an alarm on their CGM, and then they might take a fingerprick reading to make sure. CGM false alarms DO exist and it can cause some very annoying situations.

A less careful/depressed/struggling/burnt out character might A. not care or "sleep through" alarms B. not double check with a finger prick C. not care that they're wearing a CGM - pump into stuff or just rip it off (although they are very expensive!).

can you mute them? yes, and a character might choose to do this while they're sleeping, having an exam, or if they know they're about to fuck up their blood sugar.

how long do they last? the libre ones last 14 days. the dexcom ones last up to 10 days.

can you shower with them? yes

can you swim with them? yes

can you have sex with them on? yes, and i've read very funny anecdotes from diabetics having to pause during sex because their cgm was beeping

are they expensive? yes! sometimes, they're covered by insurance, but not completely. If a character is in poverty, or do not have insurance, they likely would have to rely solely on fingerpricks.

Who usually uses CGMs? they are very widespread between T1Ds and are increasingly being used by T2Ds as well.

can you share the readings on multiple devices? yes! your character might share their info with their SO, parents, roommates, close friends...etc. It is genuienly one of the most telling signs of a close relationship between people - because those people will see your "mistakes" and decisions.

where do you stick them? the libre ones (circular ones) officially just go on the back of your arm. The dexcom ones can go on just about anywhere that's "soft" - stomach, thighs, back of arm, chest...etc.

does putting them on hurt? sometimes! the way they are installed involves a needle going into the skin then sitting in the subcutaneous tissue. This can sometimes cause some bleeding, and soreness for a few hours.

Often times the process is completely painless, but this is not the case for everyone. A thinner character might struggle to find a place "cushy" enough for a cgm.

can you put them on your own? yes the process is made for one person to stick it on, but i've seen some couples on instagram act all romantic and sappy about applying it together, so that should give you some ideas for your diabetic characters' budding romances ;)

Some CGMs are just naturally faulty, i'd say about 4 sensors is a busted one, and in that case you'll have to replace them - which most companies just do without any hassle.

do they work with insulin pumps? some insulin pumps can work in tangent with CGMs and provide feedback for the user to automatically generate the correct doses of insulin, depending on their current blood sugar.

do they come off easily? depends on who you're asking. some people swear up and down that they never last and have to put on patches, which are admittedly very cute. Weather, clothing, and how clumsy a character is all factor in this. For me personally i just put them on raw and keep them together by sheer willpower.

CGMs can cause anxiety in diabetics. The constant flow of information can easily burnout people, and this can possibly be the case for any diabetic character you might write. Seeing arrows going down or up can be very distressing, especially knowing how painful some of the consequences are. I personally take breaks for both myself and my wallet from using CGMs to avoid burn out.

nonetheless, CGMs are WONDERFUL pieces of technology that have personally made me much happier as a diabetic, freer and a lot more independent.

does your character want their CGM to show? lots of people, including myself don't like revealing their CGMs - but your character might like showing them off!

and lastly - my favorite thing about CGMs - taking them off and having a "naked" shower once a month where i dont have to worry about it coming off. - They look like this:

[ellievickstar]

Galentines, Valentines, Now he's mine <3

A/N: Am I supposed to be doing work? Yes. Am I doing said work? No. Due tomorrow, Do tomorrow. Don't do what I'm doing if you have work due go do it before it piles up and overwhelms you.

Summary: In which your girlfriends plan how they will finally get you and Azriel to confess to each other after weeks of getting they're ears talked off by the both of you pining over each other and agonizing over asking the other out for valentine's day. And what better day to do it than on the day itself?

Request: Nope.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: This might make you feel even more single to begin with.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

"No," You said flatly, shaking your head to emphasise the word you had just uttered.

The three women around you seemed to visibly deflate like balloons over your words. All whom had been trying desperately to convince you to confess to your crush of...two hundred years. One would think you would have gotten over him by now, but apparently not, you were still knee deep into the crush that had started your endless pining and gushing over the shadow singer since you had first joined the court through Morrigan when she rescued you from your family.

She had seen value in your ability to manipulate the stars just like how her cousin manipulated night. While swirls of shadows surrounded him, the stars sang to you and told you the dreams of those around you, their worst and best deeds, their greatest successes and their worst fears.

And when the stars sang, you listened.

"And what do the stars tell you about valentine's day?" Mor prompted you gently. Sighing, you reminded her of the limitations of your powers, "You know that I choose not to listen to my own future, it makes me live in anxiety about the next thing that is going to happen, sometimes knowing everything is not great. I'd rather live in the mystery than the anxiety of knowing."

Nodding, she glanced at Nesta and Feyre, the two females shrugging. They were at a lost for words, they could not say anything to tell you about Azriel's feelings without sacrificing the privacy of the shadow singer. Truth to be told they only knew about it because Rhysand never kept anything from Feyre, while Cassian of course could not hold back his excitement that his friend finally liked a female that was not completely unavailable and babbled to Nesta. However, telling your mate is one thing, completely exposing the shadow singer's secret to the one person he definitely wanted to keep the secret from was another.

Before you had arrived for the weekly tea party that you all hosted, excluding Elain who often preferred to stay in with her mate and be updated on any tea later by watching for herself instead of actively being involved, you all welcomed her even if she was not a common sight at these get togethers. "Perhaps, you should consider that maybe being rejected by Azriel will finally allow you to move on, you have been pining for two centuries, maybe it's about time?" Feyre tried.

Shaking your head once more, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, groaning at the prospect of ruining the close friendship you had forged with the shadow singer by confessing to him on valentine's day of all days. Maybe you were overthinking it, but you would rather live in your crush and suffer than ruin the good and close friendship you had.

The idea of finally getting together with the shadow singer baffled you but it was a dream come true. Truth to be told, you had had dreams about it before, and even begun to crave the comfort Azriel provided you in your darkest moments in the roughest nights. In times you wondered whether you should cut to the chase but you were scared of the repercussions.

"Come on, girl, you have to bite the bullet, be brave. You have to be confident enough to get rejected. And eventually you'll move and you can be friends with Azriel after he rejects you. Agonizing over this for so long is not worth it," Nesta reasoned. Considering her words, you sighed, "Fine." The females around you brightened. "But, I will only do it through a letter, and he has to confess to me also if he actually accepts. If he rejects it promise me you'll take me to the cabin to mope." They all eagerly nodded, and just like that, they began to set their plan in motion.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Dearest Dear Azriel,

I am writing this letter. Hi. How are you? Today is valentine's day and you must be wondering why you are receiving this letter from me. I confess that I was coerced into doing this by Nesta, Feyre and Morrigan, but do not doubt that my words are not sincere. I love like you. I have liked you for a while and will continue to do so even if you reject my feelings until the day I can find the strength in me to truly move on. For two centuries I have found myself drawn to your quiet demeanor and I have found myself craving the quiet nights we spend together when we seek the other's comfort. I do hope that you will accept my feelings, but if you feel as though you cannot reciprocate, do not worry, I will do my best to move on from this and we can continue to remain just friends.

Yours Sincerely,

Y/N

Finishing off with your name, you looked down at the letter that you wrote, going over it two more times before finally folding it. Just as the letter disappeared from your hands, probably reappearing in front of the shadow singer, another letter appeared in front of you that you recognised the paper was only one Azriel used, the scent of paper and ink still clung to it along with the musky scent of steel and the night sky that could only be described as Azriel.

Opening thee letter gently, you read.

My lovely star,

I should have written this so much sooner, but it was my brothers who finally gave me the courage to speak out the feelings I feared. I adore you. Every inch of you I crave, in every night you seek my comfort I want nothing more than to take your pain and make it mine. Every time I see you smile I curse under my breath when the reason for your smile is not me. I find joy in your laughter, it's melody often playing on repeat at the back of my mind. Even when I'm away I feel close to you because I spend every waking moment wondering what you and doing and every dream seems to chase away the nightmares when I dream of you. If you will allow me, I wish to be your forever. I love you with all my heart and my soul.

Yours, now and forever,

Azriel A.K.A Asshole, Brute, Bat, Illyrian prick

(P.S. I think my shadows like you more than me, because everytime you're near they seem to stray away from me to lay at your feet. You are breath taking, my star)

Holding in your breath, you felt as if you were dreaming, and as Azriel's scent seemed to suddenly flood your senses, you turned to the doors just as a knock came, slowly approaching it, behind was Azriel holding the letter you wrote, his grin wide and his eyes bright.

"Do you mean it, Sweetheart?" He asked, "Will you be mind?" Even as you nodded his eyes held a silent command to hear your voice, to hear the words he had craved for for so long. "I want to be your Azriel, I want you to be mine, I have loved you for so long," And as he swept you off your feet, the door closing behind the both of you as his lips crashed into yours, he pulled apart to only say, "I've been yours for longer than you could ever imagine, little star, even when I have faded from this world, even when we join our ancestors in the sky, even when we become the stars that sing, I will always be yours."

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

"Guess I'll have to cancel galentines," You whispered softly to Azriel, peaking at his face that stretched into a soft grin, his arms snaking around your waist even as you lay quite literally on top of him, your elbows leaning onto his chest.

"Didn't the rest of the inner circle always have their own Valentine's while you went shopping, me tailing behind you?" You laughed, replying, "Well I did like this one male, he was super sweet and was always there for me but I never dared ask him to be my Valentine," His eye brows quirked at your words, his smile becoming wider as he asked, "And what happened to the male?" you considered for a moment before grinning mischievously.

"Well, now he's mine."

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: No way, she wrote something with no angst for once??? A full fic that didn't have angst???? crazy. She must have been brain washed or something, that's insane. Don't worry my loves, angst is coming I just wanted to be nice for once during valentines <33 For all us single girls let's have a happy galentine's day and enjoy our girl dinners, AKA whichever fictional man/men we decide to simp for. Happy Valentine's day, see you all next time. MWAH.

Taglist: Please tell me if you want to be tagged in future Azriel's fics!!

[bambisnc]

he's the one that's livin' in my system baby! [01]

pairing : sungchan x reader genre : fluffy roommates au <3 lil angst bc reader is really out here questioning their whole existence (js like me fr) cw/tw : none! wc : 516 w 0.0

10 days to go till finals. you are not holding up as well you would have liked. it's not as if you're not studying it's just.. the need to achieve near perfect status in each subject leads to anxiety which in turn leads to procrastination. shocker.

you sigh, pushing your chair away from the desk and stretch in an attempt to provide relief to your sore muscles - a result of being hunched over your notebook, doodling away mindlessly. you were supposed to have completed 4 chapters by now, but the 20 minute turned 3 hour break you spent watching random videos on your laptop very generously gave you a aching throb behind your eyes. hence the doodling, in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

..needless to say, it wasn't very successful. okay, you think, time for the last resort. you walk out of your room to the one adjacent to yours, and knock on its door lightly.

"'s open"

peeking your head in, your heart can't help but feel a little lighter at the sight of your roommate, sungchan, lounging on his bed with his back against the wall as he cutely frowns at some game on his phone, having already been through the hell that is finals about a week ago due to being in a different uni.

"i really don't know why you even borrow to knock anymore, not like i'd ever say no to you - even if you're just going to stand and stare at me~", being charming always comes naturally to him, unfortunately for you.

huffing a bit, trying to think of a witty reply, but that headache really just hates your entire existence huh? you wordlessly move to his bed. somehow sungchan understands what you're trying to do and complies with your wish without a single complaint because, in his own words, how could he ever say no to you?

pulling you closer to him, he lays your head on his thigh, draping a throw blanket over you with such gentleness that one could easily perceive the concern in his actions, maybe a bit too much considering you were just roommates.. because he refuses to address his feelings, preferring instead to hide behind flirty remarks - you've emphasized their friendship one too many times. he adjusts his crossed legs, phone long forgotten, as he tucks that one strand of hair that always falls on your face behind your ear.

you hear him mumble something about resting well. and then a feather soft, barely there brush of his lips against your forehead.

the slumber that follows after is heavenly, you swear you always sleep better around (or on) sungchan. not that you would ever breathe a single word of this to him. he's your roommate for god's sake - you'd rather suffer under the weight of unrequited feelings than to confess and damage the beautiful relation you've managed to form with the star athlete, who believes teasing you is a daily goal that he must fulfill.

on second thoughts, you're not sure how long you can keep your facade up...

old notes : so so self indulgent.. i'll make a prettier layout as soon as my exams r done frfr... [edit- doneish !] new notes : its a series now !11!!!! + [series m.list] [m.list]