#but then I go ‘let’s try being normal this time. make it easier on the machine’
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purifiedclitoris69 · 3 days ago
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Breaking point
a/n: Finally got to the nat version of silent comfort. It’s a little short tbh so sorry about that. hope you enjoy!
pairings: Natasha Romanoff x supersoldier reader
warnings: violence
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You’d been with the Avengers for almost a year now, and in that time, you’d managed to carve out a space for yourself on the team. Sure, being the former Hydra experiment wasn’t exactly the most inviting introduction, but you didn’t let that define you. It wasn’t who you were anymore. You were the team’s go-to for a laugh, always cracking jokes, lightening the mood, and making it easier for everyone to handle the high-stakes pressure of their lives. What you didn’t talk about, though, was your past. Not because anyone had told you not to, but because you didn’t want to relive it.
Especially not now, when things were starting to feel... normal.
Normal was spending late nights on the couch with Natasha, arguing over which movie to watch but never finishing them because you’d get caught up in teasing each other. Normal was training together and catching her smiling at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Normal was her throwing playful jabs about how you talked too much, only to call you out on being unusually quiet when something was bothering you.
You weren’t sure when things had shifted, but somewhere along the way, the time you spent with her had become the highlight of your day. And judging by the way she always seemed to find excuses to stay close, you thought maybe—just maybe—she felt the same way.
Neither of you had said anything yet, though. It was comfortable, whatever this was, and you didn’t want to ruin it.
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The quinjet hummed softly as the team prepared for the mission. Hydra remnants were regrouping, and the team had been sent to intercept a high-level target.
You were double-checking your gear when Natasha sauntered over, a sly smile already playing on her lips.
"You know," she said, leaning casually against the wall beside you, "I’ve noticed you spend an awful lot of time fussing over that utility belt. Got a secret stash of candy in there or something?"
You snorted, pulling a strap tighter. "Jealous I don’t share my snacks with you, Romanoff?"
"Please," she shot back, tilting her head. "If I wanted candy, I’d just take it," she shrugged her shoulders, "I always get what I want."
You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try."
She stepped closer, her green eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, or I might have to prove it."
You chuckled, shaking your head. "You’re all talk."
"Am I?" She reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of your belt, and for a split second, your heart skipped a beat. But instead of taking anything, she smirked and stepped back, clearly enjoying the way you were watching her.
"Tease," you muttered, pretending to focus on your gear again.
"You make it too easy," she quipped, crossing her arms.
Before you could come up with a comeback, Steve’s voice cut through the moment. "Gear up. We’re heading out in five."
Natasha straightened but didn’t move immediately. Instead, she leaned in just enough for only you to hear. "Try to keep up out there, rookie."
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. "Try not to get distracted, Romanoff."
She laughed softly as she walked away, the sound lingering in the air long after she was gone.
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Though successful the mission had been thoroughly chaotic, to say the least. Things had been going smoothly until Natasha went off-script.
You hadn’t even known what was happening at first. One second, you were covering her six, and the next, she was gone, chasing intel Fury and Maria Hill had deemed critical. It left you in a tight spot, trying to hold your ground without her, and you’d taken a few hits you shouldn’t have.
By the time the mission wrapped, you were sore, bruised, and too exhausted to joke around like you usually would. The tension on the jet ride back to the compound was thick, everyone keenly aware that Steve was seething.
The hanger was suffocatingly tense as the quinjet’s ramp descended with a mechanical hiss, and everyone piled out, the weight of the mission hanging heavily in the air. Conversations were sparse—exhaustion mingled with the unspoken tension. You were still catching your breath, the fight replaying in your mind, when Steve’s voice broke the silence.
“Romanoff, we need to talk.”
You glanced at Natasha, who was walking beside you. Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t stop, striding toward the hangar floor like she hadn’t heard him.
“Natasha.” Steve’s voice carried more force this time.
She stopped, turning around slowly, her face calm but her eyes sharp. “What?”
Steve’s expression was stony as he marched toward her. “What the hell was that back there?”
“The part where we got the job done?” Natasha shot back, her voice icy.
“The part where you ignored orders and jeopardized the team,” he countered, standing toe-to-toe with her now.
You stepped closer instinctively, but for now, you stayed silent, your fists clenching at your sides.
“I didn’t jeopardize anyone,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “I prioritized the bigger picture. Fury and Maria needed that intel, and I got it.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Fury and Hill aren’t the ones in the field. We are. And when you decide their priorities are more important than this team, you’re not just making a bad call—you’re making a selfish one.”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t look away. “I made a call that benefited everyone in the long run. You might not like it, but it worked.”
“Did it?” Steve snapped, gesturing toward you. “Because they almost didn’t make it out thanks to you.”
Your chest tightened as his words hit. “That’s not fair, Steve,” you said, stepping in now.
He turned on you, his voice rising. “It is fair. You wouldn’t have been in that position if she hadn’t dragged you into her little side mission.”
“That’s enough,” you said, your voice low.
But Steve ignored you, his focus still on Natasha. “You know, it’s always the same with you. You play both sides, keep everyone guessing. It worked for you in the Red Room, maybe even with S.H.I.E.L.D., but here? That doesn’t fly. We’re supposed to be a team, but you’re still looking out for yourself first.”
The mention of the Red Room made your blood run cold. You saw the flicker of something in Natasha’s expression—a crack in her armor.
“Watch your mouth,” you said, stepping in front of her now, your voice dangerously calm, as you met Captain America eye level.
Steve’s gaze snapped to you, his frustration redirected. “Stay out of this.”
“No,” you said firmly. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”
“Or what?” Steve challenged, jaw tightened, his temper bubbling over as took a step closer, eyes blazing with anger.
The moment he moved, you acted. Your hand shot out, gripping his wrist and twisting with precision. With a sharp pivot of your hips, you flipped him over your shoulder. The impact reverberated through the hangar as Steve crashed into a nearby crate, shattering it into splinters.
The hangar went silent, the sound of the crash echoing in the vast space.
Steve was already scrambling to his feet, his eyes blazing with disbelief and fury. Bucky intercepted him, gripping his shoulder and holding him back
“Steve, don’t,” Bucky said, his voice firm but calm.
Natasha was in front of you before you could react, her hands pressing against your chest as she pushed you back. “Enough,” she said, her voice low but forceful.
You froze, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you like a freight train.
You glanced around the hangar, catching the wide-eyed stares of your teammates. The expressions on their faces weren’t just shocked—they were scared. Of you.
Your gaze landed on Natasha last. Her green eyes were glassy, her brows furrowed with confusion and something that looked too much like hurt.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. Then you turned and walked away, your boots echoing in the silence of the hangar as you disappeared into the compound.
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The rooftop felt like the only place you could breathe. The cool night air bit at your skin as you sat on the ledge, your hands gripping the metal railing.
What the hell had you done? You’d spent so long trying to prove you weren’t the weapon Hydra made you, but one moment of anger had torn that facade apart.
“Hell of a move back there.”
You didn’t have to look to know it was Natasha. Her voice was light, but there was an edge of something else—concern, maybe.
“Didn’t mean to wreck the crate,” you muttered, still staring out at the city lights.
She walked over, her steps soft, and leaned against the railing beside you. “The crate’s fine. Steve, on the other hand…”
You huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, bet he’s thrilled.”
She didn’t respond immediately, just studied you with that piercing gaze of hers. “Why’d you do it? he was right, I left you out there."
You sighed, finally meeting her eyes. "I would've been fine Tasha, and I know you know that," you looked down to your lap, "besides I couldn’t stand the way he was talking to you. Like you haven’t done more for this team than anyone.”Her expression softened, and for a moment, the world felt a little less heavy. “I don’t care about your past, Nat,” you said quietly. “And I’ll be damned if I let anyone throw it in your face.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile as she reached out, her hand brushing yours. “You’re not who they made you either, you know.”
You looked at her, and for the first time all day, you felt like maybe you hadn’t completely lost yourself.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t have to fight for me," her gaze dropping to your lips as you both began to lean in, " but thank you for doing it anyway," her breath fanned across you. Before you could reply, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was well over do. Her lips were soft against yours, warm and grouding in a way that made everything fade away.
When she pulled back, she smiled—a real, genuine smile. “Now let’s go figure out how to apologize to Steve.”
You groaned, but for the first time that night, you felt like everything might just be okay.
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suzukiblu · 56 minutes ago
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Day twenty-seven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))
They spend a lot longer than Tim actually expects Kon to want to spend on that “couple things”, since obviously they can’t start with the exciting stuff and he just assumes Kon will get bored in about thirty seconds’ worth of Tim Drake’s awkward and over-detailed explanations of every little thing and also will experience immediate regret about admitting that he both doesn’t know how to do something and isn’t going to be immediately good at said something. Any time Kon’s not immediately good at something they’re doing in training he gets mad or pissy or at least frustrated and acts like a total asshole about it, but right now . . . 
Kon falls off the board and lands on his ass for the third time and for the third time just grins up at him sheepishly, and Tim feels very weird and not-normal and sort of just–smitten about it, really. 
“This is way different from surfing,” Kon says with a laugh, shaking his head, which is a little surprising to hear for some reason. If nothing else, Tim would’ve expected Kon to get even more frustrated, if he was assuming any apparent surfing experience might’ve helped him out here. He has heard it usually does, so maybe Kon’s just out of practice or his own standards are just, uh–a little too Bat, maybe. 
“Is it?” he asks, offering Kon a hand up again. Kon did it for him earlier, and anyway, it kinda makes him feel like carrying the other’s bags for him and being trusted with his weight feels. And Kon takes his hand, just like the last two times, and lets him help him up like there’s literally any reason he needs to bother to. “I’ve never tried surfing.” 
“It’s wicked,” Kon says, grinning at him again and giving his hands a quick squeeze before heading over to retrieve the board from where it skidded when he fell. He does not fall like a Bat, but he definitely does know how to. He’s just also clearly expecting his falls to be more of a “terminal velocity” situation than a “tripping off a skateboard” situation. Which, like–fair, yeah. “You gotta use your arms way more, though, and like, it just feels way more like you’re riding something, you know? Concrete just kinda sits there and there’s way less wind to worry about.” 
“Oh, yeah, I never really thought about the wind,” Tim says. Waves, definitely, but he didn’t follow the thought to its logical conclusion. “Pretty sure people based skateboarding on surfing to start, though, so is it really that different? Like, mechanically?” 
“I dunno,” Kon says with a shrug, tucking the board under his arm and trotting back over to him. “I mean, kinda? But also wheels are way harder to feel the ground through ‘cuz they’re spinning the whole time, so sometimes I get dizzy if I hold onto ‘em too much. And like, water moves a lot more than concrete, but the board’s totally flat against it, so like–easier to feel it, I guess? Just feels, like, more intense, kinda.” 
“. . . that’s really interesting, but are you seriously trying to use your TTK when you skate?” Tim asks, trying not to laugh at the idea even though he definitely should’ve expected it. “You’re such a cheater.” 
“Hey, I use TTK when I everything, thanks, and it’s not cheating!” Kon protests with another laugh, which is definitely not the way Superboy would’ve responded to Robin saying something like that. “You’re not cheating when you use your friggin’ ears and eyes, are you?” 
“Oh, blind skateboarding, that sounds terrifying,” Tim muses, and Kon laughs again. 
“I’d die! You’d die!” he says, sounding incredibly delighted about the prospect. 
“So I’m hearing we start with the low ramps, then,” Tim replies reasonably. 
“Oh my god, Tim,” Kon cackles, and then ducks in close to throw his free arm around his neck and kiss him again, his TTK wrapping around him for just a quick flash of pressure of its own. 
Tim feels–very weird, again. 
Specifically, he feels very weird hearing Kon’s voice saying his real name, especially right before kissing him. Kissing him, and also wrapping him up completely in the power he just identified as being as important and natural to him as his hearing and vision and, presumably, any other senses are. 
And again, Kon is clearly really, really tactile, so that’s hard not to be weird about too. 
Kon leans back, back to grinning at him, and Tim feels vaguely mortified and vaguely like eating him alive and also like this date has gone absolutely nothing like he planned, despite his best efforts. Kon brought him a present and he hasn’t bought Kon anything but an amount of grilled cheese sandwiches that can only be described as “inadvisable” and has in fact spent way more money on himself than he has on Kon, plus they’ve spent basically the whole date so far doing things he likes, not– 
“Um, just in case like a building collapses or a supervillain happens or whatever and I gotta run off early, um . . . thanks. For tonight, I mean,” Kon says, the grin he’s barely dropped briefly slipping into something a little shyer, and Tim stares blankly at him for a moment and feels like an insane person, or at least like he maybe just hallucinated that. “I’m really having fun.” 
Tim needs to check on the possibility of hallucinations, yeah. 
“You are?” he asks, fully bewildered by the idea, and Kon laughs again. 
“Obviously, you frickin’ nerd!” he says, then gives him a quick, sheepish smile and another peck on the cheek before turning that almost-inhuman shade of red again and pulling back, putting the board in front of himself and between them. Tim gently simmers to a boil and breaks down into a broth as every single ounce of meat in his body falls right off the bone. “I always have fun with you.” 
. . . Tim is maybe less a broth and now more, like, a stew that somebody left in the crockpot all day, or however Mrs. Mac used to do it. 
“Oh,” he says, desperately trying to remember how to string a functional sentence together that does not sound like a dropped typewriter. “Uh–good! Good. Um–I’m glad. Good. Me, uh–me too.” 
Kon blushes even darker and grins at him again, rocking back on his heels for a moment. 
“Cool,” he says. “Um–thanks, Tim. Again. Some more. I dunno.” 
Tim, again, feels very weird about hearing Kon say his real name, and some part of him kind of thinks, in an odd and distant way–did he just, like . . . forget how to just . . . not be Robin? Like–how to turn it off, and just feel the actually genuine things as Tim Drake, and not just the mask or the sidekick or the namesake? 
Well, that can’t be good. 
Kon keeps grinning at him, half-shadowed in the Gotham night and half-lit by electric Gotham streetlights and looking nothing like anything else Tim’s ever seen in Gotham, and Tim is definitely going to need to pencil in a couple hours on Sunday night to be an incoherent mess about him and also maybe, like . . . process some things, maybe. Think some stuff through. Adjust some– 
“So like, wanna go make out for a while in the full pipe?” Kon suggests hopefully, tipping his head towards it, and Tim forgets literally every single layer of other thoughts he was having. They are literally no longer relevant to anything and he does not care about a single one of them. 
“Yeah, okay,” he says, maybe a little too red himself now, and Kon grins. 
The full pipe helpfully informs them both that Tim can, in fact, give Kon a hickey if the other lets him, and helpfully informs Tim that he is never, ever going to be able to be in the same tri-state area as a mind-reader again. 
Well, he should probably be avoiding those for the next fifteen years anyway, so whatever.
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dripdowndrop · 1 day ago
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You Are Not AWAKE
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I've recently come across some literature that indicates people have trouble discerning when they fall asleep.
Individuals given a polysomnogram (a sleep study) couldn't pinpoint the moment they fell asleep during the test, and they often believed themselves to be awake when they were, in fact, sleeping. The test monitors brainwave activity, among many other things, making the moment of "falling" asleep extremely clear...at least for the person administering the test. The person being tested, sleeping, typically finds things to be much more blurry and uncertain.
This isn't much of a surprise to me (or hypnotists in general), since subjects often believe themselves to be quite awake when they first drop into trance. Much like falling asleep, without careful monitoring, the line between wakefulness and trance can be quite blurry. The mind is intriguing like that.
To be fair, though, the indicators of trance aren't always supremely obvious. The moment you slip into trance is often subtle and silent, much like when you enter another state of consciousness while reading or listening to music, driving, dancing. You've been following my words for a bit now, and it probably hasn't yet occurred to you that you are not awake.
You are not awake.
Do you believe me? Consider it; how do you really know when you're falling into trance? It's a bit different for everyone - and you may have learned your own indicators - but how precise can you be? Most of the time, you are told when it happens, or you tell yourself. Sometimes you are counted down to 0, told to sleep, instructed to relax deeply...but these are suggestions to get your conscious caught up to things that are already happening. The drop could have happened at any time, should you be sufficiently distracted. That is rather the point, after all.
You have been focused on my words this entire time, distracted by them. You find it easier to focus now than when you started. Your breathing has slowed, your body has started to relax, and you've been tuning out the rest of the world bit by bit. You remain at least partially aware of your surroundings because you haven't yet been instructed otherwise - there is no need. If you like, you can remain fully aware of your surroundings.
You are not awake, and you haven't been since you started to follow. Part of your mind may have begun to analyze this notion when I first told you, but you aren't going to let it jar you awake. A much stronger part of you knows, intuitively, that I am telling the truth. You came here to submit; it's no surprise that you have.
The part of you silencing the analysis and doubt is excited by the idea that you can feel fully aware and alert while sinking deep into a trance. You can surrender to my suggestions without showing any outward signs that you are enthralled. Only you will know.
You are not awake.
Think to yourself that "it is important to follow and obey. I am really not awake, am I?"
Feel a rush of pleasure simply from doing as you were told. Feel another rush as you realize that despite feeling aware, you are not in control anymore. It feels good to obey. It feels good to let your thoughts give way to my words. You'll continue to obey.
I like to call this a waking trance, despite the fact that you are not "awake." It is very easy to slip in and out of this state when you follow my words. Easy enough that each time you read, "you are not awake," you let yourself slip under my control. You can bring yourself up, then read again and slip back down. Give it a try.
You are not awake.
Feel your hands freeze in place for a moment. Count to ten in your head, nice and slow, and feel the pleasure of obeying along with the bliss of submission. When you reach ten, your hands will return to normal.
If you're feeling particularly brave, you could even follow and obey like this in a public place. Don't worry, you'll be rewarded for following my words whether you submit in public or private. I won't push you into uncomfortable situations.
You'll follow my words through the next sections, and choose your own surrender depending on your preference and circumstances. When you've chosen, you'll be compelled to read again, more slowly to feel a more potent effect.
You are not awake.
Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in a public place, you'll find yourself compelled to softly mouth or think to yourself "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." As you do this, you'll feel a stronger sensation of pleasure and content pass through you. Repeat those phrases to yourself a few more times while maintaining awareness of your surroundings, and continue to learn how easy it is to slip in and out of waking trance simply by focusing on my words. You'll find yourself drawn back to that phrase when you're next in private.
If you are comfortable and would like to intensify that satisfaction from obedience, you'll leave a comment about your experience in waking trance, especially if you chose to try it in public. It is important to follow and obey.
You are not awake.
Like I said, you won't feel obligated to try waking trance in public, unless you are naturally drawn to the thought.
I understand, there is always the allure of the comfort and privacy of home. Trance, even waking trance, can be a very intimate thing.
Should you choose to surrender to this waking trance in private, you'll find yourself unable to resist chanting quietly, "I am not awake. I feel awake, but I am not awake. I am in trance. I am obedient." While the pleasure reward for doing as you were told flows through your mind and body, you will spread your legs and touch yourself for me.
As the chant continues, you'll feel your eyes glaze over as you stare helplessly at the screen. You'll find that you have no control of your own pace, drifting steadily deeper. In private, you'll find it very easy to slip into waking trance, but nowhere near so easy to slip out of it. I'm sure you won't think to mind. It is important to follow and obey. Stroke yourself to orgasm for me as you realize how enthralled you are by my words.
You are not awake.
In either scenario, you'll wake shortly after, feeling surprisingly refreshed...and perhaps a bit mischievous.
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lucysarah-c · 2 hours ago
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Honestly, I usually follow this "bio student rule": I don’t try to find real genetic logic in fictional works. Let’s be honest—I'm not expecting writers of fiction to understand how genetics actually work, haha.
BUT, I do expect things to make sense within the story. The Ackermans being a product of Titan science? That makes no sense at all. First of all, the so-called "Ackerman powers" have NOTHING to do with Titan powers. Titans aren’t "strong"; they’re just big. In fact, it’s mentioned that their flesh and bodies are actually very weak, and how they manage to stand upright with their body density is one of the mysteries of their biology. Meanwhile, Ackermans are strong—stronger than any normal human to the point where their strength is "surprising" to others. Their bodies are durable too. Hange even points out that Levi survived injuries that would have killed a normal human.
It would have made more sense if Ackermans had regenerative capabilities like Titans. That way, it could be explained as: "They added regenerative abilities to normal humans, creating humans who are nearly impossible to kill." But no. Ackermans instead have super strength and a "hyper-awareness" of their own bodies. The only thing remotely related to Titan powers is their ability to connect to their ancestors through the Paths. And that’s it.
How did the "scientists" go from, "We’re taking the DNA of humans who can turn into gigantic monsters that regenerate their limbs," to, "We’re making Marvel supersoldiers like Captain America"?! ????
It’s like saying, "I took DNA from a dog, inserted it into a cat, and now the cat can fly." HOW? Neither the cat nor the dog could fly to begin with!
Let’s not even get into whether Titan genetics could even do something like that. The Ackermans sided with the original king inside Paradis, and they were already a thing. Zeke even says, "Oh, these guys are still alive after all these years? We thought they went extinct." When the King fled to the island, the world was in a pre-electricity era. Are we supposed to believe these people, who didn’t even have electricity and dressed like ancient Romans, somehow achieved genetic engineering at a CRISPR-like level?! HOW?!
Honestly, it would’ve been ten times easier to just say, "As Ymir got her powers from a mystical source, the Ackermans got theirs from something else," and leave it at that. Magic can absolutely have its own science within a story, but that science has to make sense. Take Fullmetal Alchemist as an example. Sure, alchemy is magic, but it follows a clear and logical set of rules. It has a theory behind it that feels grounded in reason.
The Ackermans being science experiments? That makes no sense. And that’s why, in my mind, they’re not.
Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
Me explaining to a friend why viruses aren't alive in the same voice message where I explained that Ackerman's being product of Titan's science makes no sense and would have been better that they were magical like titans and also why COVID wasn't a Chinese invention:
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I did a career of 6 years exactly for this reason.
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dan-crimes · 1 year ago
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Mfs can't understand a blunt mf they always gotta try and read between the lines or straight up deny the words you're saying and deny how you feel
#I just woke up so Imma overshare without worrying abt it lmao#like yeah people should be wary there are some messed up people out there but like#I'm being straight up with you I do not have the energy to keep up a lie and I just think it is much easier to have clear communication#people just instantly assume that I'm up to something or not being sincere they don't even give me a chance#bcuz if they did they would instantly be able to tell that I am just like that and I am being as straight up as I possibly can#people just aren't use to that ig#¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that's why I just assume everyone is telling the truth to me and if they did lie my trust in them would break thru those lies#they will eventually tell me the truth if they feel they can trust me and if they don't then that is their business#if someone spends all their time formulating lies for me then that is /their/ energy wasted. not mine lmao#just like let go bro it ain't a big deal to just say stuff straight up you just gotta figure out the right ways to say stuff is all#ya just gotta be real with urself and sometimes shit it confusing af and that is normal brains tend to just fuck around#situations aren't black and white so you might seem hypocritical but again that's life#the best you can do is show how you feel thru actions when words fail you#and people might not understand you but at least you know how you are and you either accept it or make efforts to get better#~.~ me when I get too into it listen I got a little sibling who doesn't understand lots of stuff like I'm trying to teach them things#so I kinda go into this mode a lot of just like trying to explain stuff mostly abt understanding emotions and that other people feel things#I also talk abt this stuff with my other sibling but they are older so it's usually a lot of trying to figure out brain stuff#and trying to come to an understand etc etc I like to talk about these types of things and I might not have all the answer but like#I try. it doesn't work for everyone but hopefully it can at least help people discover what DOES help them#like it might seem like I value honesty a lot but I honestly don't care if people lie to me that is their business ✌️😋#like it only bothers me when it's obvious like Oh I didn't put that dish there I put it somewhere else Well buddy ur the only other person#who else did it or like Oh I didn't say anything I didn't say a word and it's like Buddy I know you did it just own up it's over with#people lie a lot in an attempt to avoid getting in trouble and specifically people getting angry at them but like I'm not the type to argue#I'm not gonna get mad and if I do I'll cool down pretty easily as long as we actually talk things out but like I don't get mad often#I don't really mind most things like if you talk shit behind my back that's not my business lmao just goes to show ur own character#like so many things are not my problem and simply show ur own judge of character#if you don't like me simply don't talk to me 😌 it's really not a big deal I don't mind at all#anyway I ramble... I could likely ramble more but I assume Imma run outta tag space soon
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slowlyfoggydestiny · 1 month ago
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Soo it happen again huh
#horrendous behavior and nobody wants to take responsibility#because is so much easier to keep this papá caliente game going on went some ‘side’ does something awful but is not their fault because#the other side has done something awful as well#and we just keep going and going and nobody ever does nothing to you know try and make this place of supposly fun less of a hell for everyo#seriously I want to smack so many people a tv show is not worth losing the sense of humanity#and you don’t have to be directly involved in whatever happens to be like mmm maybe this kind of behavior is not fucking normal#doing stuff as simply as cultivating your little corner without attacking anyone#oh they said an spec you don’t like oh they ship a ship don’t like well move on and let it be#(there the exception of when the discourse has stuff like racism misogyny or with doxing attacks that’s absolutely has to be called out )#yes you don’t send hate anon yes you don’t run a blog attacking people or participate in directly attack behavior#but maybe getting comfortable casually hating on fans of a ship maybe can normalize that behavior and maybe the people that need#to log off and learn how to be humans again will see that and get use to indirectly hating other fans creating mock names for them and mayb#when they stumble a blog of someone that is not ‘on their side’ they will feel more comfortable sending death threats and so out of touch#accusations#I overall stay away from drama I curate my experience but I have seen mentions this behavior from absolutely both sides both buddie mutual#bucktommy mutuals and multishippers being attacked#and nobody wants to take responsability they just throw the rock and said well the other side does it as well why should be the ones doing#we so easily call other behaviors but god fordib we take a moment to take a look into ours#what others do is not our responsability but the kind of enviorment we cultivates and endorse it is#I don’t think people who don’t do any of this attacking should take responsibility for it (like apologizing is what I saw was the apparent#Expectation) what I think is important is the overall recognition from both sides of hey under#no circumstance this behavior is okey and doing small simply stuff in our corner can help everyone have a better environment#And wells there’s still idiot people who are way to online and don’t understand nobody owns them to like the same ship or character#And that if you don’t agree with opinions you are not obligated to interact with that content simply as that I honestly don’t understand#What people sending death threats over characters genuinely hope to achieve#But maybe a little bit of excile of people perpetuating this can send the message hey this is not okey and I think is stronger if the call#Comes from inside the house#but if we go well is the other side fault every single time we are never getting out of this circle of toxicity#My two cents that probably nobody will read because of the lenght#911 discourse
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phagodyke · 1 month ago
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#told my roommate ive been depressed this weekend and she kindly offered to watch a movie but i knew shed be too tired and need to cancel#bc of the clocks changing and its ok i know how tired she gets i was the one to suggest it was okay if she cant + it was still a nice idea#but now im alone for the evening again ive been alone all weekend and weekends are the hardest for me and i thought i was feeling a little#better but im not and theres nothing to stop me from harming which is okay i keep it safe and its always a choice i make to do it or not#not anyone elses responsibility but i didnt want.to be alone tonight thats all. and offering something she knows she cant fulfil makes me#feel rejected too and i also wanted to talk abt some of her behaviour that upsets me sometimes but gently bc i dont want it to seem like#im blaming her bc its not her fault im so bad at communicating and neurotic and weird abt shit that doesnt even make sense#but its been bothering me for a really long time and it comes up again every time we meet with other people and i get really upset over it#and im the one that keeps putting off talking about it but its so hard when its been gping on so long and i find it so hard to express#anything and communicate especiallt when its shit like this but im so so so so tired of sitting on it i just want it resolved one way or#another and now i wont see her for a few days bc of this family trip and itll be on my mind the whole time and the thought is making me#feel insane already ive wasted so many hours and hours being upset by her and not being able to talk abt it i need it to stop its not even#that big a deal.it just is to me. and i dont know how to say anythign ever#and she wants to make plans with friends next weekend which feels like hoisting an anvil above my head bc if i dont go i risk having a#rejection sensitive episode bc im vulnerable rn and this is exactly what happened over the summer and it took me months to recover from but#if i do go ill get upset bc ill feel unwanted there and ill be dealing with the same issue that comes up every fucking time and either way#ill end up harming in response to it bc i cant handle how intense my emotions are and i dont have any better outlets right now#for these specific feelings and i dont want to do that i want to be a normal fucking human being who doesnt lock themself in a#stupid fucking iron maiden style repression over completely innocuous shit that no one would even know im reacting this way to#i cant do it i cant do thjs anymore i cant i want it to stop im so tired and it hurts so so much feeling so much like this#they should make a mind for me that is capable of not inflicting distress this intense on itself i need to explode#actually. maybe since i wont see her for a couple days i can write a long discord message about it instead. i know its a shitty way to#deliver information but maybe it would be easier that way rather than trying to summon the courage to say anything in person when im#usually actively upset abt it at the time and my immediate response to getting upset is to shut down and not express which doesnt help#and its so stupid but i need it to not be like this i cant keep living with her and getting so upset so regularly it has to stop now#ill think about itand maybe draft it. and then i can decide. but right now i need to eat. and pack. and then cut sorry. but its ok#ughhhhfdhf. please let this week be better ill try harder ill say something i have to im the one inflicting this on myself by not talking#about it!!!!!!!!! so. man and i think my dinner is cold now too. oh well#.vent#tw self harm
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louisa-gc · 7 months ago
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how to start reading again
from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.
start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.
don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.
go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.
remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)
analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.
read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.
finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.
try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.
forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.
remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!
stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.
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pleasantlycrazyworld · 28 days ago
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Sex pollen
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A/N: Reader is female, also a mutant with logan like powers. Logan calls the reader princess, darling, and his girl. Unprotected sex (Please don't be stupid and do this). I had a few requests for this, and i figured why not post it on Halloween! Happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates, I hope you enjoy the smut. I worked hard on it, but I'm not the best smut writer, lol. Request are open for Logan and Bucky! And I'm very close to 1,000 followers, so I might try and do some sort of special for it <3
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Logan should've listened to you when you said something was going to go wrong during the mission. "I don't know Lo, I just have this feeling that I can't seem to shake" you whined and grabbed his arm trying to get him to reconsider and have Charles send someone else for the mission, but he just disregarded you completely. He was just too stubborn, too proud for his own good, and it was really biting him in the ass now.
The mission was supposed to be normal, just a quick in and out. Get into the abandoned laboratory, do a quick scan to make sure it is abandoned, and then steal the plans for mutant mass destruction. Simple, something he's done a million times before but as he sits in the jet panting, sweating, nearly moaning in discomfort, he realizes how badly he fucked up. Fuck when is she ever wrong? Why didn't you just listen to her?! He groaned internally as he looked at the time, only a few more minutes than he'd be home in your bed, with you in his arms... with his cock deep in your pussy. He let a loud moan fall from his lips as he started to think of your body, fuck did he need you.
You were pacing waiting for Logan to come back from the mission, "Where is he? He should've been home hours ago!" You were beyond worried and frustrated over the whole situation, technically you knew that Logan would always come back home to you but that doesn't make the wait easier, it doesn't make seeing him bloody and aching easier either.
The front door finally opened and slammed shut. Logan's heavy footsteps could easily be heard echoing through the hall, "Logan!" You rushed to him to start checking for any injuries. Before you could ask him if he was okay, Logan pulled you into a deep, feverish kiss.
Logan groaned as he felt you gasp against his lips; his hands started to wander up your shirt as he walked you to your shared bedroom, trying his hardest not to break the kiss. You are the first to pull away,completely breathless and a bit confused."Logan...fuck baby what's going on?" You asked as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving rough bites in their place. "Need you, need your skin on mine, need your pussy choking my cock" he cut himself off with a broken moan as he starts to grind his throbbing cock into your thigh, making you feel how hard he was. "Princess, please." He begged completely helpless.
You were worried, Logan had never acted this way before, never whined or begged, but you'd be a liar if you said it didn't make you wet hearing his deep voice beg for you.
Logan was pawing at your clothes before he finally decided to just rip them off completely. Before you could whine to him about your clothes being ripped, he silenced you with a kiss and promised to buy a new outfit for you. "I'll buy you whatever you want princess, just need to see you, need to see my pretty pussy." He moans pitifully when he does get a glimpse at your sex. "Fucking christ darlin' look how wet you are, all this for me?"
You nodded quickly and pulled him closer, "Logan please, need you in me, fuck me please I need it, need to feel you deep in me for the rest of the week." Your begging made his knees weak, it sounded like heaven to him, and who was he to deny you of what you wanted.
"Whatever, you need princess," he assured you with a smirk as he pulled away to finally undress completely. Your eyes widen seeing how hard he was, "Fucking hell Lo..." You muttered quietly knowing he would still hear you. "Does my girl need me?" He asked crawling up the bed, kissing the skin exposed as he moved further up your body.
When he finally reached your mouth, he gave you a sweet kiss as he slowly thrust into you. Oh, oh my fucking--! He groaned internally as he felt your warm walls stretch around him. You broke the kiss to moan his name, throwing your head back.
You ended up moving your hands to his shoulder to hold on to him better as he thrusted more erratic, and without noticing, your claws slowly started to appear from your nails. Before you could notice, they ended up digging into his shoulder muscle deeply. An animalistic moan ripped from his chest as he felt your claws draw blood. His hips moved on their own, in and out, into your warmth and out for a split second before plunging back into you faster and deeper than before. It was like his hips were moving faster than his mind could keep up, and the only thing he could think about was you.
Your warmth, your softness, your smell, your taste. You were the only thing on his mind. He could feel his eyes roll back as his orgasm approaches. With his eyes closed, he could feel every inch of you. It was like he could feel each one of your atoms against his.
His eyes fluttered open when he heard you whimper louder than before. "Fuck you're so pretty darlin, sound so pretty for me...need more, need you to cum." He moaned before he could finish his sentence. "I really, really need you to cum on my cock princess, need you to milk me. Take it, take it all from me princess it's yours." He grunted and moved your legs to be over his shoulders, given him a new angle to thrust even deeper than before. You screamed his name as you came on his cock. He leaned down to have your chest press together as he prepared to cum deep in your pussy, "Gonna cum-fuck gonna cum deep in my pussy, keep you full for a while then when it's dripped out, I'll fuck you again to keep you full all over again." His pelvis rubbed against your clit, making you clench around him even tighter than before thanks to the overstimulation he was giving you. Feeling you get even tighter made Logan moan out and finally give in before cumming as deep as he possibly could.
It felt like an eternity before Logan finally stopped cumming. He collapsed on top of you, completely breathless and his limbs felt numb. "Holy...fuck darling" he nearly giggles as he basks in his afterglow, in all of his life he cannot remember a time where he ever came like that. "I don't think I'd ever fucked that good before" he said kissing the bruises that he could reach that was slowly disappearing on your skin.
You sighed happily, feeling his lips on your skin. You started to play with his hair softly as you hummed in agreement. You couldn't remember ever having sex that intensely before. "What did you get into on that mission?" You asked curiously, and he shrugged. "Not much. There was this pink powder that poofed in my face, though." He said as if it meant nothing, "Logan!" You tried to look at him to see if he was drugged in some sort of way but before you could, you could feel his cock hardening inside you all over again.
Logan moved to have you caged between his arms once again and asked with a knowing smirk, "Round two?"
Well how could you say no to that?...
Tagging:
@userchai
@mahi-tamashi
@100percentlazybonez
@lanassmarty
@western-pyro
@misscrissfemmefatale
@marit332
@navs-bhat
@fluffy-b33z
@chaimshelii
@aoi-targaryen
@eyes-ofhell
@sad0ni0n
@fries11
@slowlikehoneyyy
@iamburdened
@brisinggamenwearer
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waughymommy · 8 months ago
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Diaper Discipline Guide
Emma & Henry
My boyfriend of 4 years has always had regressive and sub tendencies while I’ve wanted to talk more control in our relationship. We tried several bdsm activities including smacking and bondage but the occasional nature wasn’t really doing it for me.
After finding out more online about Female Led Relationships I came across DD, initially dismissing it. But the more I read, the better and better the idea appealed to me. After some planning I decided to confront my partner and say I wanted to add an element of control and domination into our relationship, by saying I hadn’t decided how to do it yet we had a long discussion without diapers being mentioned where he agreed in principle to “lifestyle dominance” as long as it could be kept between them and not impact his job, friends, etc. 
This guide was invaluable to me to plan the rest and it solidified my decision. It took me two weeks to discreetly buy the required supplies, getting them delivered to our apartment on days he was at work. I decided that I wanted a high initial level of DD where he’d be in diapers 24/7 at home.
I decided to start on a Friday night after work. He’d known that I had been preparing for something and I started the conversation by saying my proposal was weird, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be painful/harmful and nobody else would find out but you wanted him to agree to try it for at least 6 weeks.
Although nervous he also seemed excited by the prospect and agreed. We moved to the bedroom where I told him to get undressed before I diapered him for the first time. There was a lot of objections at this stage but I talked him round and the agreement to try it for 6 weeks was helpful.
To make the shock less I started with a medical diaper which wasn’t too thick and let him wear his normal pjs over it. I left him to explore it on his own while going to make dinner. After dinner it was time to tell him all the rules, the main one was that the toilet at home was now banned and he’d be in diapers whenever he’s at home. I kept the baby elements to a minimum and said he’s have to also wear out the house sometimes but I’d make sure nobody could tell and never when he’s at work or with friends/family. I’m not going to lie and say this didn’t involve an argument, especially when he realised that no toilet meant #2 as well but we got through. We ended up watching a movie which was a good way for him to calm down.
He wet his diaper for the first time after the movie which was funny to watch as he was so nervous it was going to leak everywhere. Even though it wasn’t too wet I did change him straight away and made his change extra special too. That night he slept in a diaper for the first time.
Over the first weekend he did get more used to wearing and I allowed him to use the toilet for a bm on Saturday. Sunday however I decided to fully enforce the rules and he messed himself for the first time. I didn’t change him this time and he took a shower. There was a lot of protests again but I said it was none-negotiable. The smell did seem to be the biggest thing that bothered him so I bought some Devrom tablets which had been recommended, it took a few days for them to arrive and a few more of taking them but now his messy diapers hardly smell and the protests have stopped. I’d actually recommend you use these from day 1 to make the transition easier.
The first week was tough but we got through it and I’m happy to say we’re now 7 months in to him being in DD. Over that time I’ve moved to thicker abdl diapers, he wears onesies regularly around the house and the toilet has remained unused by him with only a few exceptions.
We both work mainly from home so I’ve gotten used to checking and changing his diaper but thick diapers + devrom has meant he generally only needs a change after waking up, sometime in the early afternoon and before bed. I’ll also let him change himself if I’m busy or cba. 
The best news is after an initial rocky patch, our relationship feels stronger than ever! He proposed to me 5 months in and I can’t see his DD ending any time soon. I’ve increased elements overtime and now the toilet is banned even when out of the house together. Public wearing did take him a while to get used to but actually it’s easy. 
I’m sure DD is not for everyone and is much more involved and hard work than other lifestyle changes but for creating a caring bond between you and your partner I’ve found it to be great!
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dhampir-dyke · 1 year ago
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#i cannot fucking believe that my half-baked psilocybin therapy is working. this is so crazy.......#less than 4 months ago i was incredibly suicidal and my depression + trauma kept me from doing basic shit. i couldnt fucking enjoy anything.#and now i take literally no medicine except a gram of psilocybin every month or so. and i hesistate to say its 'fixed' me bc i still have#a lot of issues and i still have bad days#BUT. my life is so much better now..... i can actually feel good when i do things i like. im able to get important stuff done much easier#and im having bad days instead of bad WEEKS. when my cptsd gets triggered its still horrific and debilitating but the come down from it is#much faster and im able to function properly sooner#today i managed to talk to my leasing office about moving in a few days earlier and they said yes!!! ive manage to pack a BUNCH#of my stuff into my car for when i start moving in tomorrow. ive made an important phone call!!!#i still had to jump through the hoop of executive dysfunction BUT. normally i have to go through an obstacle course of it#every time i do it i feel like i get a little bit better. i try to make a 'plan of attack' every time i take them.#make my place feel as comfortable and safe as possible. i keep a journal nearby and relaxing music playing. and i try to sortof like#i guess a mix of introspection + reparenting in a way. i go with the flow but i try to focus on a way of thinking thats unhealthy#and try to tease + pick apart the reasons its unhealthy; while also trying to replace it with a healthier way of thinking#if that makes sense??? all while just. idk. feeling safe and at ease.#and ill feel kinda weird for at most a day afterwards bc lets be real. its psychedelic mushrooms. but afterwards i just feel much#lighter and generally just more at peace?#maybe its bc of how vulnerable i am while in an altered mental state; it may replicate the vulnerability i experienced as a child.#but rather than be abused for being vulnerable im being gentle and kind to myself??? idek man its weird.#anyways thats the end of my rambling im just thinking outloud
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gyuswhore · 1 year ago
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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)
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«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»
PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader
SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.
or;
in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.
GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.
PLAYLIST: right here!
WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)
Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k
masterlist
WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut tags in part 2
(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"
[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me &lt;33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)
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As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom. 
It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin. 
“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice. 
You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly. 
Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands. 
Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers. 
It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter. 
“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands. 
“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her. 
Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?” 
The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.” 
To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future. 
“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt. 
“Sure, yeah. What is it?” 
“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all” 
You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway. 
“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring. 
“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-” 
“I have class tomorrow.” 
“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.” 
You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now” 
Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.
“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”
“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”
“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?” 
“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night” 
With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building. 
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“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.
“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically. 
“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down. 
“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process. 
Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding, 
“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed. 
“I’m going back to sleep.”
“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself. 
He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids. 
“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”
“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.
“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?” 
‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.” 
“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.” 
You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted. 
The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done. 
What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?
Yeah, that’s an easy conversation. 
Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand. 
You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way. 
It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express. 
You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display. 
It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you. 
You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night. 
And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.
“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”
“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew. 
“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.
“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”
You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head. 
Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.
“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.” 
You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe. 
Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines. 
You deserved to wallow in this pit. 
At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath. 
You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds. 
Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock. 
The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name. 
“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond. 
He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.” 
Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.
You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears. 
You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut. 
Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call. 
“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response. 
“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.” 
“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”
“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over. 
“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows. 
A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”
“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”
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“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.
“What?” 
“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”
“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.
“You want me to put this on my face?” 
“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.
“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further. 
He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.
“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands. 
“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.
“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.” 
“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.” 
It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh. 
“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot. 
The doorbell rings. 
“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.
You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling. 
“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!” 
Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”
The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door. 
Mingyu’s brought a girl. 
Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.
Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later. 
“This is my sister” 
All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky. 
“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”
What?
“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit. 
With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.
“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge. 
“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her. 
“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.” 
There it is. 
“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence. 
“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”
You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance. 
Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over. 
It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you. 
It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister. 
It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from. 
That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun. 
You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”. 
“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder. 
“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression. 
“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already. 
“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?” 
“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!” 
Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going. 
“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect,  “You’re better than that!”
“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away. 
“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.” 
“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you. 
“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows. 
“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”
It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity. 
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“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.
“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.
“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you. 
You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.
“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.” 
“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice. 
“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.” 
“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.
“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination 
“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice. 
“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”
“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.
“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”
‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion. 
“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.
“Uh, no. Is there juice?” 
“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter. 
You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”
Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances. 
Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles. 
“What? Is it bad?” 
“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?” 
She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.
“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.
Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?” 
“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”
“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.
Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”
“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face. 
Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside. 
“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later. 
“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her. 
The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight. 
The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside. 
There’s no Nayeon in sight. 
But there is Mingyu. 
His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both. 
For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears. 
And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him. 
“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”
There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?” 
“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?” 
“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”
“Yeah, remember Minji?” 
“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.
“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.
“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.” 
There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny. 
“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.
“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest. 
“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”
What the fuck. 
You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up. 
“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.” 
The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream. 
Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.” 
You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral. 
“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”
Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see. 
“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.
“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.
“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”
There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure. 
It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting. 
Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality. 
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Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school. 
You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner. 
Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner. 
As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.
It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose. 
Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.
“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand. 
Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself. 
“Well? Did you?” He demands again.
“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”
“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?” 
Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!” 
Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland. 
“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit. 
There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does. 
“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.
Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.” 
“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”
He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.
You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.
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The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form. 
You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart. 
“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear. 
“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.
“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.
You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed. 
You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite. 
“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”
“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.” 
He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again. 
“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet. 
“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”
You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door. 
“Where’ve you been?” 
“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you. 
“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.” 
Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.
“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.” 
You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”
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Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus. 
“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”
“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.
“You know what he’s like…” 
“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.
“That’s not what I meant either.”
“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.” 
“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation. 
“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses. 
“Especially when it’s none of my business.” 
“Charming.” 
“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”
“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major. 
“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.” 
“So they need models?” You ask.
“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.” 
“Are we getting paid?” 
“You get to say you modeled for me.” 
“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans. 
You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you. 
“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.
“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh. 
He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?” 
“Ew,” Seungcheol voices. 
“I am,” You confirm. 
“For what?” He sputters. 
“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?” 
He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question. 
“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?” 
“Mhm, only for the night, though.”
“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks. 
“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.” 
“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.” 
You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.” 
Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.
“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-” 
He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.
“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika. 
“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk. 
“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.” 
“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.
“Huh? Oh, I was-”
“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that. 
You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table. 
“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch. 
Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.” 
“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”
“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.” 
Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers. 
“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause. 
“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in. 
“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face. 
Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”  
Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face. 
Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it. 
“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.
“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”
“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort. 
“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points. 
Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!” 
“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”
That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor. 
Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.
You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat. 
It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.
“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over. 
You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite. 
It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.
“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.” 
“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?” 
“No, but you should.”
“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”
“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes. 
That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.” 
“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.” 
There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar. 
Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance. 
But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last. 
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The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive. 
Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time. 
There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.
Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all. 
Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers. 
You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity. 
He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence. 
You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week. 
In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information. 
There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone. 
“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins. 
“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.” 
The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name. 
“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you. 
He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t. 
—Kim, Mingyu. 
If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes. 
You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was. 
“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”
You wanted to slap him. 
Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here! 
You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off. 
Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true. 
Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up. 
By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him. 
You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand. 
There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus. 
“Hey,” he says unceremoniously. 
You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.” 
“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually. 
Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything. 
“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”
Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin. 
“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you. 
You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?” 
“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”
“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”
With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back. 
Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.
“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.
“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”
“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.
“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?” 
It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour. 
“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”
“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”
You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?” 
“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly. 
“But?” You sense her apprehension.
“But, maybe you should give it a go.” 
You can only blink at her with wet lashes.
“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.” 
“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?” 
“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.” 
There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.
“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”
“No. You’re making sense.” 
“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.” 
“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.
Once again, you find it within yourself to nod. 
Yeah. You were gonna do it.
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Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared. 
The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”
You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.” 
“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”
You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”
“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.
You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing. 
“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling. 
He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is. 
You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry. 
You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat. 
“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”
You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake. 
“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.
He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.
It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human. 
You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on. 
It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash. 
It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness. 
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“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.
“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch. 
Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”
“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice. 
“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard. 
“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.
“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.
The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to. 
Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.
“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.
“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else. 
“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh. 
The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help. 
You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention. 
“Huh?”
“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.
It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”
“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor. 
The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her. 
The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house. 
The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more. 
The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.  
You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked. 
It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 
Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 
“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”
“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 
“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 
“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 
Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”
“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 
There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.
It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.
“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.
“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 
“Why didn’t you leave with her?”
“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”
“Hm. That didn’t happen.”
“It’s like I said,” you mumble.
He hums again in response, dropping the subject.
“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.
“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”
You bit your tongue. Hard. 
He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 
“I���m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 
“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 
“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”
“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 
Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.
“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.
He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.
“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 
He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 
“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 
You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”
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Middle school was harder than you thought. 
Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip. 
It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results. 
You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.” 
He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair. 
“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done. 
You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you. 
“What?” 
“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation. 
“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?” 
You look up confused. “How?”
“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.” 
On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes. 
“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.” 
He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years. 
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The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night. 
There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there. 
You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing. 
He’s probably fine. 
By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu. 
He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos. 
“Oh, hey,” he says normally. 
“Hope I’m not too late.”
“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room. 
“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”
He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.” 
You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.” 
Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway. 
“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”
“I did, do you want me to change?”
“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.” 
He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you. 
“You good?”
“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round. 
“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”
He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”
The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour. 
“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”
“Oh, cool.” 
Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself. 
“Let me help.”
“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.” 
“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?” 
“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”
Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it. 
“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff. 
“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.” 
“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”
“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”
“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.” 
You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch. 
It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night. 
By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car. 
She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.
“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest. 
“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.
That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.
“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”
“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip. 
She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!” 
“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks. 
“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.
“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”
“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”
Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants. 
“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak. 
“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.
“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.” 
“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.” 
It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise. 
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The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried. 
You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them. 
What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room. 
“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked. 
“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you. 
“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping. 
There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it. 
You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room. 
“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry. 
You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.
And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls. 
That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.
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Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots. 
You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn. 
“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces. 
“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break. 
“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”
“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time. 
“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts. 
“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.” 
“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?” 
“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.” 
“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out. 
“I think I need to never agree to do this again.” 
“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights). 
“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away. 
“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.” 
Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood. 
“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare. 
“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine. 
By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.  
The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today. 
“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera. 
“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”
He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it. 
The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound. 
He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket. 
You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see. 
You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?” 
He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.” 
It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least. 
There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off. 
By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route. 
“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing. 
“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.” 
“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?” 
“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.
“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.
He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.” 
Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.
Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting. 
It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends. 
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Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day. 
The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.
It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.
You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.
Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.
Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home. 
Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.
After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little. 
“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!” 
“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”
“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”
“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!” 
Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime
“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.
The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here. 
“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”
“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in. 
“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.” 
“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”
“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm. 
“Ah, I see.” 
The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?” 
“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”
You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.” 
He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.” 
“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.” 
You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.” 
“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection. 
“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”
“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”  
“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’
He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.” 
“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.”
He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation. 
“When does your shift end?” 
If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that. 
“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.
“Everyday?” he asks incredulously. 
“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.” 
“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.
You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”
He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.” 
“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.
“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.” 
“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”
“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.” 
There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.” 
“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”
The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement. 
It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.
It was safe to feel.
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This was horrible. 
Truly. 
You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention. 
But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.
“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.
“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?” 
“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”
“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial. 
“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.” 
“Seok!” 
“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.
“Seokmin!” 
Beep. 
The bastard hung up. 
“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu. 
Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.
He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.
She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle. 
He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.
He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy. 
Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.
“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night. 
“Babe?” 
She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?” 
“Seok just called…”
Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long. 
“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word. 
“Fifteen.” 
Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected. 
“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it. 
“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”
“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.  
“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?” 
“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.” 
Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.” 
“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.” 
He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.” 
By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms. 
“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her. 
“What now?” she groans. 
Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.
“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.
Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.
Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!” 
“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.
“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.
Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours. 
“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally. 
“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy. 
“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up. 
Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”
Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.” 
“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.” 
Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past. 
It doesn’t. 
“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”
“Huh?”
“When she called just now.”
“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”
“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.”  Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully. 
“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice. 
“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated. 
“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”
“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!” 
“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place. 
“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!” 
Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it. 
“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!” 
There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”
It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.
“Fine.” 
Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done. 
There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.
It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.
Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it. 
It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project. 
It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful. 
Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.
In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card. 
It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece. 
He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.
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Part 2
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weixuldo · 4 months ago
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Baby Fever
Anakin x f!reader
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This is based off of number 2 of this list :)- I havent really delved into kink writing s sorry if this isnt the best haha- think of the reader as a padme- type figure
After seeing you interact with a lost child- Anakin thinks it’s time you had your own baby to look after…
warnings: P in V, smex, ani has a mean breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mentiond of pregnancy
________________
Floods of invigorating politicians and citizens exited the large Coruscant city center after a successful senate meeting. You had just finished pitching a plan that would excel the economy while also protecting labor’s rights. 
You smiled as you stood from your podium once the majority of the crowds had exited- the whole public eye thing was a bit new to you. 
For the longest time you worked behind the scenes helping other politicians with similar goals; it wasn’t until a few months ago that you, yourself, were appointed as your district’s senator. 
You fixed your dress as you exited your booth and headed for the dimly lit corridors of the massive building. Most of the clamor had moved outside into the city square so the halls were mostly empty. 
As you turned the corner a small smile found its way onto your face once you saw a familiar figure leaning against a marble pillar. Unmistakable robes and lightsaber clipped to the man’s belt. 
“I wasn’t aware Jedi had any interest in politics” you said with a smirk as the man snaked a gloved arm around you before you could pass. 
He pressed his face into your hair as he hugged you tighter to his chest, “We don’t, but you know all of my interest belongs to you”. 
You sighed as he pressed a passionate kiss to the column of your neck. 
“Ani- not here” you almost whimpered. 
He quickly twirled you around to face him before holding your face in his hands, “why not?” he asked with a charming smirk- “we should let them all know”. 
He glanced out the large windows down at the crowds of excited civilians- from up here they looked no larger than ants running for a sugar jar. 
“They all love you, so why can’t I?” Anakin asked with a pout. 
You sweetly smiled before placing a tender kiss to his pretty lips, “you can, and you do- you know the ramifications Anakin, you know we ca-“. 
Anakin cut you off with another deep kiss before releasing you and playfully slapping your ass. 
“Yeah yeah, I know” he huffed, “but they don’t know that”. 
You rolled your eyes at your lover’s childish desires before leading him out of the building. 
To avoid the spotlight and attention of the crowds, you dawned a hooded cloak before exiting the center.
Anakin followed closely behind; a hand already on his saber just in case. Thankfully being in public with Anakin seemed normal to some degree because you had become such a public figure- Jedi were often tasked with protecting political officials.
So Anakin looked no different than a routine bodyguard. 
The crowds were easier to navigate now that you had some practice under your belt. You had almost made it to your reserved speeder when you felt a small tug on the hem of your long dress. 
You smiled once you realized the tugging was coming from a small child, probably no older than four. 
She looked up at you with wonder as she mustered up the courage to speak to you. 
“Senator?” She finally asked. 
You nodded with a smile before turning to her. A wide grin settled onto her small face as she looked you up and down. 
“Pretty” she giggled. 
Anakin stood a few feet behind you, trying to see what was going on over the people standing in the way- he became anxious when you dipped from view.
The Jedi quickly weaved through the remaining people to see you crouched down speaking to a small child. His expression immediately softened as he watched you interact so sweetly with the girl; making exaggerated faces at the child’s comments, pointing out her cute accessories to make her giggle, picking her up to shield her from oncoming pedestrians-
Anakin never really thought about having kids- of course he wanted them someday; he wanted to create life with you and wanted to raise his children with a childhood he never got to have. But it never seemed like the right time.
The two of you had been careful when engaging in those activities to avoid an unexpected surprise when you still hadn’t quite figured out how to navigate your secret relationship. 
But each time Anakin fucked you he got closer and closer to giving up on the unspoken rule; he got closer and closer to cumming deep inside of you without any intention of pulling out. 
You knew Anakin was a passionate lover but you never considered that your sweet, respectful Jedi lover fantasized about locking you into a mating press while he fucked his children into your fertile womb. 
Anakin had no timeline of when he wanted them, but he knew you’d make a great mother no matter how long (or short) he waited.
Though seeing you interact in real time just made him want the fantasy to spring to reality. 
_________
“Hello sweetie, where are your parents?” You cooed at the small girl in your arms. 
She giggled and shrugged, making you frown. 
“Well that’s not good, they’re probably worried about you” you said, scanning the crowd for anyone who held any semblance to the tiny child in your arms. 
She, on the other hand, had no interest in finding her guardians- instead she was focused on the shiny tinsel that had been put into your hair prior to your speech. Innocently, she flipped your hood off and began to touch your face as she admired your beauty in childlike wonder. 
Before you could react, Anakin was by your side; he gently placed the cloak back over your head to protect you from interested onlookers. 
“Ani! You came out of nowhere” you giggled lightheartedly as he guided you off to the side of the still buzzing city square. 
“Who’s this?” He asked with a smile as the little girl in your arms hid her face in your shoulder. 
“It’s ok baby, he’s a Jedi- he’s very strong and he’s here to protect us” you whispered to the little girl in your arms. 
“Jedi?” her green eyes brightened as she became excited at the title. 
She continued asking you questions but all Anakin could focus on was how beautiful you looked interacting with such a young child. How natural you looked. 
Is this how you would interact with your own children? With his children?
He couldn't help but adjust his pants as he felt them becoming increasingly tighter. 
Soon the overexcited child had fallen asleep in your comforting arms; shortly, you began cautiously walking around in hopes to find her parents. The jedi beside you watched as you subconsciously brushed the girl's hair and gently bounced her on your hip. 
Before long you finally stumbled across two very worried adults calling for who you could only assume was fast asleep in your arms. 
“Oh Maker! There she is!” the woman gasped as she reached for her baby. 
The Man she was with breathed out a sigh of relief and quickly joined her as you handed her the sleeping child. 
“Thank you so mu- Senator!” the man’s eyes widened once he realized who it was. 
“We are so sorry to have troubled you- please forgive us for our carelessness” the woman bowed. 
“No, no! It was no trouble at all- you have a beautiful daughter” you smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair away from the girl’s face. 
“Thank you, thank you so much. We loved your speech- you are just what this city needs” the mother offered before turning to her husband. 
You bowed and met the silent figure watching from the sidelines; “Sorry Ani, we can go now”. 
Anakin just nodded silently and trailed you with an uncharacteristically dazed aura. 
Once you were in your speeder, Anakin hopped in the driver’s seat and jetted off towards your apartment; his strong jaw clenched as he imagined you full with a child.
He flinched as you placed a tender hand on his tensed thigh, “Ani- are you alright?”.
________________________
A cacophony of moans and groans ricocheted off of the walls of your penthouse bedroom as your lover continuously plunged his cock in and out of your abused hole. He had been at it for two hours already and had already cum once (while you came thrice). 
Once you entered your private apartment, all of his carefully crafted will-power snapped and he went feral; the natural urge to breed you, hit him like a bus.
He was all over you; your lips, neck, breasts, cunt- you were his and he was going to make damn sure it stayed that way. 
“A-Ani! S-slow down!” you cried as he jetted his thick cock in and out of you. 
“S-Sorry baby, C-can’t- I gotta- gotta fill you up” he winced as he fucked you through his own overstimulation. 
His heavy balls slapped against your ass and a ring of foam from your combined juices formed at the base of his cock. 
He already came inside of you once, what more could he want?
“Baby- t’s too much! You're-spilling all over”.
“N-no, not enough- gotta fuck a baby into you” he grunted against your bruised neck. 
His confession had your eyes snapping open, “What?!”. 
“Looked too damn good with that baby on your hip- I-I wanna see you with my child on your hip in-instead” he babbled as he pulled you flush against his chest and rutted his desperate hips into yours. 
So that's what this was all about. 
Admittedly you didn’t mind his desires, deep down you wanted the same thing… you wanted him to reach so deep that he fucked one into you on the spot. 
“Oh Fuck Ani- I wan- I want your kids” you admitted ad you raked your long nails down his toned back. 
“Shit babe- squeezing me so tight” he whined as he gripped onto your hips with a caging grasp (surely you would be bruised tomorrow). 
He slammed his hips flush against yours with intense force as he felt the coil in his stomach begin to snap- this was it, this was the orgasm that was going to give you a child. 
He just knew it. 
“Ahh c-cumming! Gonna give y-you a child- Shit! i-i ‘m going to fuck my baby into you” he babbled as he felt his hot, thick, warm seed shoot out of his oversensitive tip into your gushing cunt as your own orgasm washed over your like a crest-fallen wave. 
“Ani!” you cried as your legs began to shake from the overpowering climax mixed with your exhaustion. 
You clawed onto him so hard that you swore you drew blood. Anakin, on the other hand, dove down and captured you into a tight embrace; his mechanical hand making you gasp at the sudden coolness. 
His body shook with pleasure and overstimulation as he struggled to rut his hips into you to push the last bit of spend further into you with shaky breaths. 
Once you came down from your high, you were so tired that you couldn’t even bother to ask Anakin to clean you up; you half expected him to fall asleep inside of you based on how tired he also looked. 
“Gonna make you a mommy- you’ll look s-so good- so round with our child” Anakin mumbled into your neck before slowly turning over so that you were on top of him (his dick still inside). 
You hummed in contempt before drifting to sleep as he gently brushed your hair with hsi flesh hand. 
“The two of you should get some sleep now- I love you” Anakin whispered before drifting right after you. 
You would have giggled at Anakin’s addition of “two” when speaking to you and your hypothetical baby, but as usual your lover was right. 
The famed “Jedi perception” was affirmed 9 months later when you cradled not one, but two small bundles of joy. You sat on your couch as you fed your children and Anakin couldn't help but smirk at the scene before him, this is just what he wanted… he couldn’t wait till you could have another one. 
***
(a/n: ngl im not crazy big on kids but breeding is hot 🤭🤭 hope this lived up to the idea on the list :0)
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clockwayswrites · 5 months ago
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Birdritch part 2 Yeah, there's a subscription post now...
Danny pulled another sweet potato fry from his bag before refolding the top to keep it warm. He’d finish all the fries before he even got home, he knew that, but that was future him’s problem. Right then being able to munch on the sweet, salty goodness as he took a shortcut through the park was just what he needed. There was something about Robinson park that always settled him.
It was probably because of the park’s wild, otherworldly nature that came from Poison Ivy’s control. It almost felt ghostly in how unreal it was. It was another thing Danny tried not to think too hard on and just enjoyed. It wasn’t that Danny was ignoring the fact that he was half ghost (as he always tried to convince himself), he just wasn’t dwelling on it anymore. Ghosts had consumed his life for so long and he needed a break.
Even before his accident (it was easier to just call it an accident when people asked about his scars), his parent’s obsession controlled their house, family, and lives. He got now that it wasn’t normal to grow up not cooking because the food might eat you. Or because your parents were too busy in the basement lab to remember. His time away from Amity Park in college made Danny realize that Jazz and his childhood had been at best unsafe and at worst negligent.
It had taken Danny a lot of therapy to be able to say those words.
Being honest, Danny still needed a lot of therapy, but there was only so much progress he could make when he couldn’t really explain that he was half dead and had spent the end of his childhood fighting ghosts, the government, and his parents. He was half tempted to try and track down Harley Quinn and see if she was up to taking on a new patient. (Danny was pretty sure that she wouldn’t rat him out to the authorities.)
A vine thrashed suddenly in front of Danny, hitting the sidewalk with a meaty thump.
Danny froze.
Fuck.
His phone was out of power.
He couldn’t check if something was going on in the park.
While Poison Ivy was much more Pamela Isley than rogue these days, as seen by the city just letting her have control of much of the park, she was still temperamental and the right— or wrong— sort of thing could set her and her plants off. (Sometimes the plants went off on their own. Everyone knew not to be a sleaze bag in Robinson park.)
Slowly Danny started to back up.
Several more vines wretched themselves out of the ground around him.
He could hear shouting somewhere off to his left. Out of the corner of his eye he could see movement from the plants that direction.
Alright, not angry at him then.
Danny crept forward slowly, keeping his motions as calm and small as possible. Just because they plants weren’t angry at him it didn’t mean they weren’t a threat to him. His best chance was to stay on the path and head in the direction away from the noise.
And away from the over sized flowers.
Well fuckity fuck.
Most things Poison Ivy could do weren’t really a threat to Danny. He could phase away from vines, after all. But the flowers? The flowers had pollen and pollen was an unknown; one that Danny didn’t want to be known. Sam was rather certain that the pollens could effect Danny in odd and unknown ways due to his half ghost nature.
He had refused to let Sam experiment on him to figure it out. Comparing her fervor to his parent’s helped shut that idea down for good. Danny didn’t regret avoiding being a lab rat, even as he was staring down the ruby red flowers to his right. He still just had to keep his motions as calm and small as possible.
The flowers were only an issue if they let their pollen out.
Danny started to move in as wide of an arc as he could around the flowers.
While they were closed up he was safe.
Danny’s left hand spasmed.
The paper bag of food crinkled.
The flower petals unfurled.
Fuck.
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AN: I know there are issues, another no read through late night post, but I'm getting my serotonin where I can. Stay delightful, darlings.
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always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 2 years ago
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Why is the washing machine in my apartment building acting like a centrifuge? 😭Girlie you are doing a normal sized load of laundry this time. I know I over filled you last time but you are fine now, stop trying to run away! I needed to push against the thing with my arms and legs because this bitch thought it was a wild animal being released from a rehab program. It’s trying to audition for the role of particle accelerator
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copperbadge · 2 months ago
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The thing about pain, that I never really knew until this happened to me in my thirties, is that if you are in bad enough pain or for a long enough time (and that's in weeks, not months or years) it can give you depression. Even if your quality of life isn't otherwise impacted -- if it doesn't impede your mobility or exhaust you so that you can't go out -- even if it's "just" pain, being in pain is depressing. And the thing about both pain and depression is that independent of one another, when you are in either one of them you tend to make poor choices. You aren't able to pay full attention to the decision and depression impedes your ability to envision your future, effectively making you feel as if there are no consequences or rewards for your actions.
Now, the nice thing about being a little older and having gone through stuff like serious physical injury, particularly a brain injury, is that it's a lot easier to recognize when you've begun to make poor decisions, and put a stop to it before you make some really poor ones. You can't necessarily just tell yourself "hey stop doing that" but you can readjust your risk assessment and also stop trying to make as many.
Like, you catch yourself walking in front of a car that probably can't see you at a dangerous intersection, and for the rest of the day you make sure you don't cross against the light even if you think you could probably make it. You take the ramp instead of the stairs. You move more slowly. You don't buy anything. You walk away when you might normally pick a fight.
I'm fine -- I injured my foot last night so walking is very painful today, but the wound isn't see-a-doctor serious and I'm getting around okay. I did have to come in to the office for a meeting, which necessitates walking, catching and boarding a bus, and navigating a downtown street that's still pretty busy even at seven in the morning. And I did catch myself walking in front of a car coming out of a driveway because I wasn't watching the driveway as I normally do, because I was in pain. So, for the rest of the trip, I moved as slowly as necessary, stopped at crosswalks if I didn't have a clear walk signal (ie, no flashing red hands), and kept my eyes on the ground. In the office today I'm going to stay quiet and I've made a mental note not to speak in the meeting unless directly addressed. I might catch a cab home, though that has its own perils and the bus is arguably more safe given my muscle memory of public transit. And that's just because I made one bad call after being in pain for like, twelve hours. But I know me, so, a couple of days of caution it is.
Anyway the only real point of the post is to let people know, because nobody told me, that if you're in longterm or serious pain, a) it can materially impact your mental health, and b) you should move a little slowly and not make any serious decisions if you can avoid it.
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