#forward to it. maybe because i'm trying to save my money these days because of medical bills and stuff) but sadly it didn't sell that well

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Honestly, even though I'm really not sure how I feel about Foamstars, I'm glad that Square Enix is still willing to make some new IPs--that aren't phone games--because I was worried that they wouldn't after they got burned on Neo The World Ends With You (in their eyes, which would be the second time they got burned with a The World Ends With You game) and Forespoken. They also got burnt on Nier, back in the day. And them having been hurt with TWEWY and NieR made them reluctant to make anything that wasn't Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, or Kingdom Hearts for years. Fortunately, they took another chance on NieR with NieR: Automata, which did very well and it's been a successful franchise for them since.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :) 

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison. 

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself. 

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up. 

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen. 

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips. 

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs. 

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission. 

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach. 

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness. 

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough. 

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out. 

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry. 

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance. 

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too. 

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first. 

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums. 

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige. 

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes. 

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly,  scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence. 

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind. 

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts. 

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it. 

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night. 

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box. 

To her royal highness, 

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do. 

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours, 

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is. 

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible. 

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand. 

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else. 

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said. 

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest  look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender. 

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body. 

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum. 

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips. 

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself. 

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters. 

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK. 

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today.  From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her. 

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments. 

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all. 

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance. 

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm. 

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple. 

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this. 

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference. 

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter. 

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation. 

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige. 

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles. 

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body. 

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly. 

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow. 

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly. 

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now. 

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go,  really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe. 

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk. 

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie. 

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look 

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out. 

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch. 

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly. 

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses 

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself. 

“What is?” 

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold. 

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her. 

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple. 

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people. 

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone. 

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone. 

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever. 

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone. 

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

[songmingisthighs]

[15.41] bf!wooyoung × reader

⇀ your boyfriend means business and no amount of illogical ideas, and no matter how crazy those ideas were, was going to get in the way of him spending time with you

⇁ wooyoung taking charge as he should

tw : wooyoung getting mad? kinda slightly suggestive maybe (mentions of wooyoung being sexy, wooyoung slipping something into mc's bra, mention of making out

genre : slight angst, lovers, fluff-adjacent at the end ?

wc : 1.3 k

It's not often for Wooyoung to come barrelling into your place hot on his trail. Usually, when it happened, it was because you two had been separated for too long or if he wanted a little bit more TLC that may or may not include some sort of helpful equipment.

So it scared and annoyed you when Wooyoung roughly opened and closed your front door, causing you to jump slightly on the couch.

"Get up," he demanded, standing before you with his hands on his waist, "Get up now." You glared at him with determination and huffed, "I told you I'm not going anywhere, I already explained why I can't." Wooyoung scoffed and rolled his eyes, "And I told you I don't care and you've drained all of the patience I had in me while I was waiting in my car for the past 30 minutes so you are going to get off this couch, wear something cute, and go out on a date with me." The mention of the date made your face red not in anger but embarrassment because, at that point, he was forcing you to repeat something that to you was rather embarrassing. "I can't, okay? I told you I don't have money to go out!" you exclaimed, throwing the pillow that was on your lap down and it landed by Wooyoung's feet. "When do you ever have money?" Wooyoung scoffed but you knew it wasn't him making fun of you, it was just him repeating what you usually told him.

At that point, you just wanted to evade him and hole yourself up because you had been stressed over feeling like a mooch in the relationship what with having a boyfriend with a big career and big income while you were still working a regular job trying to make ends meet. So you told him that you were going to treat him on a date that exact night, planning and saving up for a month and you were about to do it when your stupid laptop decided to break down and you were forced to spend the money you had saved up to treat your boyfriend so you could work and it broke your heart and it made you feel more than guilty.

"Not funny, Wooyoung, I'm serious," you were trying to hold back your anger because all the tears had been shed the day before when you finally took the courage to look at your bank statement. Wooyoung slumped on the single-seater next to you and sighed loudly, shaking his head in frustration because he couldn't comprehend your point. "I really don't get this, I don't get you at this moment because I usually pay anyways and I never made you pay for anything so why are you suddenly acting like this?" "Because I told you I was going to pay for our date today! I already made such a big deal out of this and I really do want to pay after having you pay for everything since the beginning of our relationship and even before that. So I just can't go out because I can't pay!" though you tried, your voice still raised even if it was slightly and it made you feel even worse.

Wooyoung sighed in exasperation and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, "So that's the whole issue? You wanting to pay for our date?" and you meekly nodded, avoiding eye contact though you predicted that Wooyoung was going to throw his hand in the air and stood up, towering over you, "Well you can just use my card and pay! When the bill comes, or when we see something either one of us wants to buy, YOU will pay for them with MY card!" he said,. This time, you scoffed and shook your head, "That's not the point, Wooyoung. If I do that then it wouldn't be my money we're using!" you argued back but you kind of understood the logic of his solution.

You were about to explain the whole shpiel behind your logic when Wooyoung crouched down in front of you with his eyebrows furrowed. "Do you really think that I'm the kind of man who would let his girl pay for me on our date? Do you really think I'd let you spend even 500 won on me even on milk? I work hard because you are my motivation, I make my money for my future and you better get into that thick, beautiful head of yours that it includes you in it." Though he was being serious and firm with you (which was a whole type of sexy on its own), you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach and feel your cheeks warming up. Wooyoung then reached into his back pocket, pulled out his credit card and put it out for you to take, "We will go out tonight because I miss my beautiful, wonderful, albeit slightly crazy girlfriend and you will pay for it using this card and you will not worry about anything."

As much as it was a solution to the issue you were facing, you were still hesitant because not only did the issue happen but you felt like you had ruined the mood. However, deep down you knew that once you and Wooyoung had dinner, all animosity would be lost and you both would laugh at this the next day. Your hesitance didn't go unnoticed by Wooyoung so in a last desperate attempt, he reached into your shirt and slipped the card under your bra strap despite you yelping in surprise (not because Wooyoung never suddenly felt the need to peek at your boobs but because it was more because he slipped his card there). "What the hell?" you squeaked as you pulled out the card and tried to put it in Wooyoung's hand but he just parried your hand away with one hand as the other tapped away at his phone. "Wooyoung, take this back, I sw-" Before you could finish your words, Wooyoung showed you the screen of his phone, showing you what he had just done while you were distracted, "Now you have my credit card AND money in your bank account in case you don't want to use my card so you don't have an excuse to not go out with me because damn it, I look good and I made myself look good for you. I even put on the cologne you said you liked on me so we are not being wasteful because then the environment suffer." Eyes widened, you slapped him on the shoulder, "Wooyoung, that is far too much! That's more than what I had saved up! Are you crazy?" but he simply rolled his eyes at you, "You really think there is a numerical limit to my provision? And you call me crazy," he scoffed incredulously.

The next thing you know, you were being pulled up to your feet by Wooyoung and he gently, but firmly directed you to your room. "Now, you're going to put on something other than the hoodie you stole from me and those raggedy sleeping shorts you claimed you have an emotional connection to, forego makeup if you must because I can't deal with another man glancing at you every 3 seconds tonight, and we'll go out, have some fun, and later make out in the car. Does that sound good to you?" You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly nervous under Wooyoung's stare, but you managed to frantically nod anyway. "Good," he then turned your body around and sent you off inside to change with a firm smack on your right buttcheek, "I'll be out here calming down, okay? I'll be waiting." Then he shut the door behind you, leaving you rather confused yet flattered at what he did.

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[minispidey]

02: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist. next part.

02. He's just Steven (and Marc, and Jake)

a/n: i'm not like fully knowledgeable of DID but i did some research! if u guys can give me some tips/ point out my mistakes, i'd be happy to hear it and edit. i just really do need some help 🙏🏻 i've never written a system before and i'd love to hear some advice

(series tags are open!) tags: @3zae-zae3

"Morning, Stevie!" you started calling him Stevie not even a week after you moved in. Sure, he hates it when Donna calls him that, but god did it sound so beautiful when you say it.

You two walk out at the same time everyday, bothered by some of the sellers on the street blocking the door "Excuse us." you say as they made way for you and Steven. A vintage pink corvette was your way of transportation while Steven chooses the bus, but you weren't in a rush today "Stevie! I'll give you a ride. Get in."

Steven blushed, shaking his head "No no, it's fine, love." hearing him call you love made you accidentally kick your leg up. You stared confused at your leg before turning your head towards Steven again "Come on." you pouted.

"I'm serious— oh, bollocks." he drops his keys by accident "I'm alright."

You drove by his side slowly "Stevieee get in. I'm not letting you take the bus when I have a car."

"It's just-"

"Is it because it's pink?"

"No! No, not at all. I don't want to be a bother, that's all." he sighed.

"Steven. Get in." you pull down your sunglasses "I'm not taking a no for an answer."

"Yes, ma'am." seeing you so serious had him flustered. Maybe it's a weird kink he developed after knowing you were a lawyer.

He sat in the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt. You smiled at him before fixing your sunglasses "Okay! First stop, the museum."

Steven knew everyone's going to stare at your pink car. He just never expected so many people turning their heads towards you too. You were beautiful and radiated beauty and sunshine, you were an attention grabber.

He just imagines you in all pink in your firm, in a room filled with blue and black suits. He thought it was cute.

"Do you have like, a license? You can take my car on my days off."

"You don't have to." Steven shook his head "Really, you're too kind."

"It's alright! Whatever makes your life easier." you flashed him one of your bright smiles "I can drop you off every day if you wanna. I'm not as busy anyways."

"Take the offer, Steven. Beats having to cramp in every day." Marc says from the reflection of the right side mirror. Steven shook his head before turning towards you "It's fine, love."

"Come on. Rent's hell. Let me save you some commute money, okay? I may be fashionable, but I can be such a cheapskate-" the car comes to a sudden halt as you snap your head towards a shop window. Steven was pushed forward but thankfully held by the seatbelt "What's wrong?" he breathed out.

"What time do you have to go to work?"

"Before ten. Why?"

"It's eight. Do you mind making a short stop with me?"

Shop assistants surrounded you as you worked your magic "Ooh, and this one. Do you have it in pink?" you giggled as you slipped on another heel "Okay so like, the trick is to ignore the assistants." you whisper to Steven "They'll sell you anything in full price. Head straight to the expensive ones before slowly going to the ones on sale."

Steven nodded as he listened to the advice you gave. He felt a bit nervous as you spoke to the shop assistants, you seemed so confident as well. In contrast, Steven felt fairly awkward and he was just observing how you interacted with the people around you.

He was very intrigued by the way you were trying on shoes, the way you were talking about it with the shop staff— he couldn't explain what exactly it was that he found attractive about you, and it was slightly annoying him.

"Chica está loca..." Steven looks at the full-length mirror, Jake was staring right back at him. He raises an eyebrow at Jake "She's crazy. I've never met a girl who wears so much... pink."

Steven was about to talk back when you pull him to the counter, swiping your card and taking your shopping bags "Okay, so like, I got fourty percent off. I have a loyalty voucher." you two made your way back to your car, stuffing your bags in the back "Thanks for coming with me, Stevie. Well, you didn't have a choice anyways."

"It's alright, really. It was... fun." he smiled at you, getting inside the car "Never really shopped with anyone before."

"Really? Not even with friends?"

"Don't have any."

"Aw, how come? You're so fun to be with."

Steven's heart skipped a beat. He stared at you with bright eyes as you drove. He felt his face heat up. When he turns his head to face the side mirror, he finds Marc judging him.

"You've just met her, huh?"

"Shut it..." Steven mumbled under his breath, looking away from the mirror. He watched you, still smiling as you drove. It was like you weren't real, like you were too good to be true. If he had known years ago a woman like you existed, he would've searched for you everywhere. But you landed right outside his flat.

"I don't think I can pick you up after your work, training interns and all." you stopped near the steps "I'll see you later, Stevie."

"You don't have to, it's really okay." he blushed "I'll see you around, love." he got out of your car, looking back at you as he walked up the steps. You pushed your sunglasses down and waved back before driving away.

After an exhausting day, you drove back at 1 am. You shoved your files in the back seat with your shopping bags and rested your face, your signature smile falling from fatigue.

The streets of London were quiet, only the crickets' mating call filling the cold air. You rub your eyes, some of your mascara rubbing off "So tired..." you sighed as you turned the car to the right.

Though your sleepiness immediately went away when you spot a ridiculous ugly-patterned shirt. It was Steven walking back.

"This late?" you whispered to yourself. You sped up a bit to catch up with him "Stevie!" your cheery voice halted the quiet night.

His head turned towards you, a scowl displayed on his face. Though his eyebrows softened upon realizing it was you.

"Don't they have buses out late? You poor thing. Get in." you smiled as you unlocked your car, allowing him to enter.

"I should've totally given you my number. If I only knew you'd be out late like me I would've picked you up." you let out a yawn before continuing "I'm not that busy, I swear. Like, I'm a lawyer but I know how to manage my time."

As you went on and on, Steven just sat there and listened to you.

You parked your car and stepped out, trying to get all your shopping bags in one go. But Steven stepped in and helped "Aw, Stevie, thanks so much!" Steven looked exhausted too.

You talked more in the elevator, detailing how frustrating your day was at your firm before walking to your doors.

"-and he was like no and I was like totes! And he was like noooo and I was like, definitely!" you giggled "Whoever said orange is the new pink is totally disturbed."

You unlocked your door and let Steven in to set your bags down. He went to step out afterwards when you pulled on his sleeve "Thanks so much again, Stevie. You are like, too good to me. We should totally shop again some other time! Goodnight!" you placed a kiss on his cheek before closing your door.

He froze in place, staring at your door before unlocking his own door and getting in. He breathed in the cold air before walking to his fish tank, feeding the two fishes before his vision focused, looking at his reflection on the glass.

"Marc! What was that?!"

Marc looked back at Steven "It's nothing."

"Back off. I really like her, okay? There. I said it."

"You kissed my wife and your crush kissed me on the cheek."

"I said I was sorry."

Jake spoke up, appearing from a small mirror "You like her? Dios mío, that woman wears a lot of pink. What is it about her? Is it because of the car? I have a limousine."

"No! She's- she's really nice."

"Be more specific, amigo. Nice isn't how you like someone."

"Enough." Marc shakes his head "Steven, if you like her then go ahead. But just don't get attached."

"What do you mean?"

"I have Layla— we have Layla. I'm married to her. You can have a crush on your little neighbor, sure, but it's not like you can date her."

"Marc... come on, I have my own life... we have our own lives. What if I decide I want to date her? What if I really really like her, you know?"

"I don't know." he sighed, scratching his eyebrow "It's gonna be complicated, you know that."

Steven let out a sigh, looking down "I-I know... but I just... I just really like her."

Jake on the other hand was deep in this own thoughts. Marc heads to bed when Jake fronts, taking over the body. He cracks his neck before walking out and knocking on your door.

You were just about to take off your makeup when you head his knock. Your fluffy pink slippers squeaked as you made your way to the door, opening it "Stevie? Did you miss me already?" you giggled.

"Do you want to go out with me?" Jake put on his best performance, speaking in a kind of shy British accent.

"Out? Like, a date?" you blinked twice.

"Yes."

Jake understood now. He saw the way your eyes sparkled and your blinding smile "Oh my gosh, yes!" you squealed before covering your mouth, looking side to side across the halls, worried you might've woken up your neighbors "Yes. Let's go out. Uh, maybe lunch? I'm free."

"That's alright with me." he nodded.

"Alright." you couldn't help but smile like a fool "Goodnight, Stevie."

"Goodnight..."

After closing your door, you silently screamed, jumping up and down in excitement. Your exhaustion suddenly disappears as you start planning out your outfit for the morning.

[soft-sunbird]

‼️Save Hilda's Pregnancy‼️

💥🚨 Pregnancy in War🚨💥

🇵🇸🍉🇵🇸🍉🇵🇸🍉🇵🇸🍉

🔥💥Am pregnant 🔥💥

Please read our story carefully and imagine the situation we are living in. 400 days of war and genocide. 😥

There is nothing in the markets, and if anything is found, it is extremely expensive. 😭

The weather is very cold, and the leaky tents are worn out from the summer heat. 🔥

The children cry from the intense cold and the darkness of the night 💥.

There is no electricity, the water is contaminated, no education, no healthcare, and no medicine. 😓

Pregnancy has exhausted me, and I wonder how my child will survive in these conditions if they arrive. There are not even vaccinations or clothes for children. 😥

Some of my relatives are covering their children with pieces of plastic to protect them from the cold due to the lack of any income sources. 😰

In addition, the sounds of bombing, gunfire, and drones mimic the sounds of wild animals and screaming to frighten people in their sleep. We don't know how long this suffering will last or if we will truly be able to endure it. 😔 🇵🇸🍉🇵🇸🍉

We want to reach our goal, we're still in the beginning 🙏🙏

Plz visit the pinned post on my page to donate or reblog ♻️

https://gofund.me/b845968e

✅verified by @gaza-evacuation-funds

✅bilal-salah0

✅khanger

✅ana-bananya

✅dlxxv-vetted-donations

✅a-shade-of-blue

Hey, Tumblr. This is Hilda, who I care about so so so much. So much that I'm willing to be brave and vulnerable and share my own story under the cut. I ask that you make a donation to either of the below links if you can; Gofundme minimum €5, Ko-Fi minimum $1 AUD. Link to her Gofundme | Link to our Ko-Fi (Ko-Fi proceeds are split between the 20 families I'm supporting, but you can ask that your donation goes to Hilda directly) TW: loss

I was around Hilda's age when I got pregnant, too. I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't ready. My life was just beginning, and I had no money, and I had just escaped from a household that wasn't being very kind to me. I was NOT ready to be a parent. I was extremely distressed. My partner and I talked about it. We decided that, although it broke our hearts... it wouldn't be fair to bring up a child in the circumstances we were living in. We promised that one day we would try again, when things were better, when we'd both grown up a bit. So I booked an appointment, shamefully borrowed $1,000 from a friend, had a surgery... and I wasn't pregnant any more. And that was 9 years ago. I am still sad about it, because I think about what my child would look like, what their favourite animal would be, what their favourite food would have been. I will never know.

In those 9 years, I've been living my life. I'm 30 now, and I have only just started to feel like I understand myself, and what's important in life, and how to participate in the world. I am strong, I am brave, I am good.

But it's not the end of my story. I still get to look forward to meeting my child. I feel capable of raising a kind, gentle, creative child that becomes a passionate, strong, thoughtful adult. The thing is, although they were still overwhelming for me, my circumstances then were so much better than Hilda's are now. I had food, I had a safe place to live, our hospitals are free and operational. I WISH Hilda had that privilege right now. How will she cope, if she's already struggling to find food, taking vitamins in place of meals because she has no other choice? If her tent is already flooding, her bedding soaking wet and freezing cold? Will she have a safe birth with medical care, or will she be alone and afraid and in pain? Maybe Hilda would make the same decision I made, if she had the choice. I think she's very brave. I know she's very lovely. I have no doubt that if her child makes it into this world, she'll do an excellent job with the limited resources that she's got. I would be overjoyed to know that her soul carries on in the spirit of the next generation. I would hope so dearly that her child might grow up in a safe environment, that the war will end soon, that this crisis is something that her child is taught ABOUT, rather than having to live through and experience firsthand. I hope so. I really hope so. What I do know is that we are Hilda's best hope to survive this monumental life change, as safely and comfortably as possible. Whatever happens, I want her to know that she is loved and supported. That she matters, and so does her unborn child, whether they make it into this world or not. That they are worth fighting for. Give a little, or give a lot.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Bucky Barnes

Summary: After your mother's death, you're adjusting to life with your autistic younger brother. Thankfully Bucky, your most regular customer, can brighten your day.

Warnings: Caretaker stress, Insecurities, Mentions of death. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

"I know it's a bit unusual," Bucky begins as he sips his coffee. "But we've got an office Halloween party and I could use your help."

"My help?" you say giving an incredulous look.

"My buddy, Steve," Bucky raises an eyebrow and you nod, confirming you remember the name. "He's trying to get this girl's number but he hasn't had a lot of luck."

"If she says 'no' I'm not helping him," you warn.

Bucky is quick to assure, "no, no, no, it's not like that! They're both very clearly into each other but also very awkward."

"Ah, okay. I trust you, but I hope you understand if I need to see it for myself?"

"Absolutely, 100%," he nods.

"Is it a costume party?"

"Yeah, but they're pretty loose on what counts as a costume," Bucky rubs the back of his head. "Every time I've gone Steve and I have just put on each other's badges and gone as each other."

Smiling at the pink in his cheeks you tell him, "so I could just show up in my work outfit and no one will really know the difference?"

"Sure," he confirms.

"Thanks, that'll save me some money. I'll start letting Robby know about it, but I reserve the right to cancel at the last second if he needs me to stay home."

Bucky smiles, "of course. And thank you, so much! Steve needs all the help he can get."

"What are friends for?" you smile, hiding the fact that you wish this could be a date.

The day of the party you're doing all of your last-minute checks. Robby said he was looking forward to having the apartment to himself for a change and trying it out. You had to admit, it was a good test for him to maybe, someday live without relying on you. Everyone agrees it's too soon since your mother's death, but you're quick to tell Robby how proud you are of him for being willing to try being on his own, even if it's just for less than a night. It's a break in routine, something he's not always good with.

Bucky was waiting for you as you clocked out. He'd agreed to meet you at the cafe so he could walk you to the office. The plan is for him to drive you home whenever you need him to. He smiles as he sees you and your heart flutters a bit. It's just not fair how handsome he is.

"So what's your costume?" you ask, trying to distract yourself.

He pulls out a Detroit Lions cap and puts it on, "I'm a Lions fan!"

"I thought they were extinct," you laugh.

"Hence why it's a costume!"

"I love it," you giggle. You're genuinely grateful for the laugh. Bucky's smile widens as you laugh. He hasn't seen you so happy in a while and the butterflies in his stomach pick up.

Once inside the office building a short woman, dressed as Buttercup of the Powerpuff Girls, sitting behind the security desk asks you to sign in and show your ID. You smile at the teddy bear she has on her desk, though you can't make out what its shirt says.

At the party Bucky is quick to find Steve who is wearing a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses. You're quickly introduced as "Sweetie" which is, apparently, the nickname Bucky and Steve have ascribed in their discussions of you. As much as you want to be upset that he's chosen such a nickname, you're also flattered that he's talked about you so much. You try not to think it's because he likes you, after all, look at how much he talks about Steve.

"So, Steve, are you here on your own?" You try not to sound too rehearsed. Bucky and you have been practicing some ideas for helping Steve build up the courage to ask a girl out, but the two of you need to be careful that Steve doesn't pick up on it.

Steve's cheeks turn pink, "yeah, I'm afraid so."

"You could change that," Bucky pokes. "Newbie's over by the desserts with Bubbles, and she keeps looking over at you."

Taking his hint you look over to the desserts and see two women dressed up as Bubbles and Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls. You guess they're friends with the woman at the security desk.

"She's quite pretty," you comment. "Why haven't you asked her out yet?"

Steve rubs the back of his neck, wearing an awkward smile, "I dunno."

"You know, I work in customer service, I could, maybe, talk to her?" Your offer is two-fold because it would give you a chance to verify that the lady in question is actually interested in Steve and he's not refusing to hear "no".

"You don't need to do that," Steve says. "I'm just...it's not as easy for me as it is Bucky."

"What do you mean?" you shake your head. Bucky's smile drops at your tone.

Steve gives you a confused look, "he asked you out, right? Gave you his number? That's why you're here?"

"He said he was trying to be a friend," you turn to Bucky who has the decency to look embarrassed.

"It's...I swear...it's not..." Bucky stumbles as he tries to find the words.

"I think I should go home," you say before you turn and leave.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly;

@stellar-solar-flare

[lonniemachin]

Omar reached out to me to help spread his fundraiser. He is a Palestinian in Rafah urgently trying to raise money for necessities of survival and to evacuate his 9-person family. He has only raised €4,893 out of his €50,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!

From Omar's GFM:

Hello, I am Mohammed, a Palestinian student in Germany, I am trying to forward the message of a good friend in Gaza, please support him !!!

Hello to everyone with humanity in this world. I'm speaking to you from Gaza, and I don't know if we will survive in the coming days from this death that draws nearer with each passing day. God spared me from the previous four wars on Gaza, but this war is entirely different. Perhaps in the coming days, I won't be among you anymore. Maybe death will take me as it took my friends and relatives from me.

I am Omar Hamad from Gaza Strip, Beit Hanoun city. I graduated from the College of Pharmacy in 2019. I worked hard in pharmacies and pharmaceutical companies to save up enough money to open my own pharmacy. Because I am very interested in the field of cosmetics and skincare, I didn't open a pharmacy. Instead, I opened my own skincare and hair care store, "Cosmatics," and it cost me around $45,000.

In the last few months before the war, I prepared my apartment and, literally, "poured my heart's blood" into furnishing it. It cost me a hefty amount, around $20,000, and I was ready to get married. But the war did not allow that. It did not grant us even a simple life, which is the right of every human in this world. This world has become desolate, where we see death every day and it cannot even save our children.

I belong to a beautiful, loving, and kind family. My father, mother, brothers Ahmed, Abdullah, Sameh, and Mohamed, and my sisters Faten, Ward, and Reem. My elder brother Ahmed is deaf and mute, suffering in the war from the intensity of the bombing and the concussion in his ear, where he never sleeps at night. My sisters Faten and Ward are also deaf and mute, and their suffering is more difficult because they are females and their physical structure is weaker, as those vibrations and concussions in their ears reverberate heavily. Meanwhile, my sister Reem's fiancé was killed in the war. She couldn't look at life with a hopeful gaze. Our sorrows could fill the whole world and overwhelm it. Oh God, why does all of this happen!

My mother also lost her three brothers, her mother, her brother's wife, and her brother's daughter during the war, all brutally killed. Despite all the sorrow that fills our hearts, we still have a positive outlook towards the future.

After being forced to evacuate from the northern Gaza Strip to its south, we went to the Palestinian Red Crescent in Khan Yunis. The bombing and scenes of killing and destruction were numerous. One day, while my friends and I were eating in our tent, the house next to us was bombed, and shrapnel fell into our food, miraculously sparing us. On another day, a group of people in the street next to us was bombed, and I saw before me 17 bodies, all torn apart, scattered flesh. I couldn't stand from the horror of the scene.

Then we moved to Rafah, on a barren sandy land, if found, on an area of 8 square meters. Twenty meters of expensive nylon and some ropes, that's how a scar is made on the ground bearing the name "tent," assigned to shelter an entire family that meets all its needs within its walls. Living inside it without a bathroom, without a kitchen, without flooring, without pillars, without covers, without warmth, without anything except a heavy heart, a wandering mind, an empty stomach, dense fog, and a very long night, accompanied by sadness, loss of loved ones, wind, rain, and bone-chilling cold. And thus, we await death.

We all need at least medical and psychological care to alleviate some of this pain, also due to the prevalence of diseases and the lack of clean drinking water and the scarcity of food.

We deserve a dignified life like any human in this world. We don't want to live just to survive; we don't want to live like animals only thinking about drinking and eating. We want to live with dignity, with freedom. I am full of hope and optimism that you will support us and help us. If you find that we deserve a better life, please help us in this campaign, which is $50,000.

• The permits and fees necessary to leave the Gaza Strip through the Egyptian Rafah are $5,000 per person (9 people, which is $45,000), in addition to $5,000 to secure the lives of 9 people for rent, buying clean clothes, and securing food and drink at least in the first few days.

Thank you very much for being interested in reading and hearing my story. You are not obliged to help, but we all hope that you will help us and that we will live a dignified life free from bombing, death, blood, and destruction, and also free from continuous hunger and thirst, a life full of cleanliness and hope.

Omar.

[theawkwardsiren]

Toxic - Veneer x F!Reader (angst/fluff) part 2

summary - your ex isn't done causing trouble for you, but fortunately this time you have Veneer. part 2 of this! part 3. part 4. part 5.

warnings - toxic behaviour from your ex, i think this is turning into a series lol

a/n - as you can see, i have an unhealthy obsession with him

GIF by may-be-bea

"So?? Is he every bit the perfect boyfriend we imagined he would be?"

"He's even better! He is the absolute best, I swear!"

Living everyday in dreamland, you never missed a chance to gush about Veneer to (Friend's Name). He was perfect in everyway, and treated you so well. He was sweet, sensitive and caring, which is what you loved most about him. Sometimes he could be a childish and spoilt brat, but more often than not he was your kind and doting boyfriend. It's been only a few weeks, but you can already tell your relationship with him is deeper than anything you've known.

That and he would never cheat on you.

"Well even on-screen he looks totally obsessed with you!"

"He does?" You questioned, blushing. You've been with him to a few red carpet events but you've never noticed that.

"Yes, girl!" She squealed, "The way he looks at you!! God, I wish someone would look at me like that!"

Your face burned as she said that, a dark blush covering your cheeks. You'd never imagined you'd be having this conversation with (Friend's Name), and you'd definitely never imagined hearing that he looks at you a certain way when you're around him.

"Someone will, I know it," you assured her with a smile. "Maybe-"

"Maybe I need to date a total douchebag and get my heart broken so someone can come sweep me off my feet too!" She exclaimed in one breath, which was impressive. "You're a genius!"

"That's not exactly-"

"Kid Ritz is kinda cute, do you think I could get his attention?"

"Well-"

"That's not a no!"

You just sighed, giving up and laughing at your friend's antics. It seems that's what she wanted, because she leaned back in her chair and smiled. That cheery mood was, however, short-lived.

"I think you can, (Friend's Name)," (Random Name) slid into the seat next to her, across from you. "I mean, if (Name) can land a superstar like Veneer, I'm sure anyone can do it."

As your lips twisted into a frown, (Friend's Name) sighed, "Boy, haven't you been embarrassed enough?"

He ignored her, his eyes trained on you, "All you gotta do is pretend you're into them, get them to like you and date you, and use them for their money." He gestured to the pretty chain around your neck, which had been a gift from Veneer.

"Did you just come to kill our mood and make baseless accusations?" You questioned, annoyed. You'd no longer give him the satisfaction of hurting you.

"Baseless?" He raised an eyebrow. "It's not baseless. We all know you're still in love with me, and just trying to make me jealous."

You actually laughed out loud, "What?"

"Come on, (Name)," he leaned forward, smirking, "No one just falls out of love. You were so obsessed with me, remember?"

"Yeah, and now I'm not," you glared, "Get over yourself, it's been weeks. I fell out of love with you within the first one. You want to know what this is?" You gestured to the necklace. "It was a gift that he surprised me with, because he saw it and thought it would look nice on me. Did you ever do that? I can count on one hand the times you surprised me with, well, anything."

"So you're saying you weren't expecting him to be that nice?" (Random Name) raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure the public would love to hear that."

"Okay, you're either just stupid or a jerk. I'm going with both."

That came from neither you nor (Friend's Name), and your eyes lit up when they landed on Veneer standing behind (Random Name), hands on his hips.

"Always need him to come save the day," (Random Name) spat, standing up. "Can't even stick up for your-"

He didn't get to finish, because Veneer's fist collided with his jaw. Your eyes went as wide as saucers, having never expected the green-haired star to ever be capable of such an action. Even (Random Name) was stunned, stumbling back and clutching his jaw. (Friend's Name) cheered, and Veneer looked shocked his punch even landed on the guy.

"Why, you-!"

You quickly stepped between the two boys, glaring at your ex while shielding your still stunned boyfriend, "(Random Name), just take the hint and get the hell out of here. If I had known what a selfish, vengeful and cruel person you'd become when angered, I never would have agreed to date you."

The area surrounding you guys went silent, your words hitting him like a sledgehammer. Even he looked taken aback, before a scowl that you were not used to seeing on him crossed his face.

"This isn't over, (Name)," he snarled, "You'll come crawling back sooner or later, and I'll forgive you for being so deluded."

Then he turned and left, and you let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding. You turned around to face Veneer, about to apologise for that scene when the boy scooped you up into his arms and offered you the warmest, most comforting embrace he had to offer.

"Veneer, I'm-"

"Shh, don't apologise," he cut you off, pulling away slightly to get a good look at you, "I just hope he didn't physically touch you. Did he?" He gently took your chin in his hand, soothingly running his thumb across your jawline. "Tell me he didn't touch you."

"He didn't," you leaned into his touch, "But that was a great punch."

He grinned when you said that, "I didn't even know I was going to do it, my hand just moved on its own when he insulted you like that."

"Still, impressive."

(Friend's Name) swooned, giggling like a child getting candy as she watched you two interact. Veneer turned to her, noticing her for the first time.

"You're (Name)'s friend, right? The one who helped her get ready for our first date?"

She blushed, looking at you, "So you did tell him about me!"

"Duh," you laughed, leaning into your boyfriend's embrace.

"All good things I promise," he assured her with a smile, "I'm glad she has such a supportive friend."

"Babe," you started, pulling his attention towards you, "(Friend's Name) here has a little crush on Kid Ritz. Do you think we could-"

"Oh, with pleasure!" He beamed, then laughed nervously at the look on your face, "You can't blame me! I was worried he was going to steal you away with how he keeps trying to talk to you! So I'm happy to help him get his attention away from my girlfriend."

You laughed at that, planting a sweet and gentle kiss on his pale cheek, "You are honestly adorable. He was just being nice."

"Just being-!" Your boyfriend protested, "I am a guy! I know when guys are trying to be nice, and when they're trying to steal other guys' girlfriends!"

"ANYWAY," you tried to shift away from his jealousy, "Let's get (Friend's Name) a date with him then."

(Friend's Name)'s eyes went wide, and a dark blush you'd never seen before crossed her cheeks, "Okay I was totally going to chew you out for having his attention but never mind! That would be so amazing! And oh my god, you two are the cutest ever!"

Veneer's cheeks tinted pink, and he offered her a shy smile, "Thank you! And agreed, his attention should be elsewhere."

"Okay you two, can we go now?"

-

"Seems like just yesterday you were doing this for me."

The two of you laughed at the sentiment as you touched up (Friend's Name)'s make up, getting her ready for her evening with Kid Ritz. Veneer had come through, landing her a date with the interviewer as he promised.

"Oh, I remember it clearly, you were a nervous wreck," she teased, trying not to move too much as you finished with her eyeliner.

"Hey!" You protested. "In my defense, I-well-"

"You're always nervous? Yeah, heard that before."

You rolled your eyes playfully, "Okay, okay. I would tell you to not be nervous but I think you're already confident enough for that."

"One of us has to be," she grinned, before checking the time on your clock. "Are you almost done? I think you're going to be late for your romantic movie night with Veneer." She imitated kissing.

"Okay, you need to go now," you laughed, pushing her towards the door. "Good luck."

She winked and left, letting you gather your stuff and head out to meet Veneer. You'd been to his place plenty of times, but the mansion always took your breath away and left you in awe.

"About time," your boyfriend pouted when he opened the door for you, spaghetti arms wrapping around your frame and dragging you inside. "I was starting to get lonely."

You giggled and kissed his cheek, "It took me long to get ready for you, you know. These things have to be just right."

The two of you spent the evening cuddling on his luxurious couch, snacks spread out on the table in front while a movie you had wanted to watch played on the screen. You were too engrossed in it to notice the way Veneer gazed at you, a soft smile on his lips as he remembered the first time you guys did this, about a week after you officially met. You'd said you prefer home dates and he'd suggested a movie night, which had been one of the best nights of his life. Mostly because you'd fallen asleep in his arms, and nothing had made him feel warmer inside.

You suddenly gasped, "Did you see that?!"

"Huh?" He blinked, snapping back to reality and looking at the screen. "Did I see what?"

"Veneeeeeer!" You whined, laughing as you looked up again, "You weren't watching, were you?"

"Oh I was," he answered, "I was watching something far more interesting." He used his index finger to tilt your head up by your chin, and your breath caught in your throat.

"What was it?"

He just smiled and closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. They moulded together so well that kissing him was as easy and natural as breathing. Like a function you couldn't live without. You shifted closer, deepening the kiss and gently gripping the back of his neck with your hand.

He kissed you again and again, not once getting tired of the feeling of your lips on his. You weren't really surprised by this behaviour, you were used to his clingy side by now, and it warmed you up knowing you had a boyfriend who was just as obsessed with you as you were with him.

"Please don't ever leave."

The words came out before he could stop them, and his tone came out sadder than he intended it to.

You frowned, cupping his cheek in your hand, "I would never. Why would you think I'd leave?"

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes, "Just worried."

"About what?"

He shifted uncomfortably, and it was then that you realised he was hiding something from you. He wasn't looking you in the eyes and he was acting nervous and strange - unlike his usual bubbly self.

"Veneer, babe, what is it?"

He finally met your gaze, "What he said. That you'd go crawling back to him eventually. I don't want to...I can't..." He struggled for words.

"Hey, that'll never happen," you promised. "Never. Don't forget that he cheated on me. I can't and won't ever forgive him for that. Besides, I don't even care about him now. The only person who is ever on my mind is you. Day and night. And..." You took his hand and cast your eyes down to watch them intertwine. "We have something special, and I never want to lose that."

He started to smile at that, and when you looked up you noticed his eyes were glistening.

"Aw, baby," you cooed, wrapping him up in your arms like he usually did with you. You kissed both his cheeks and his forehead, then started placing silly kisses all over his face. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Me neither," he quietly promised, cheering up.

"VENEER!" Velvet suddenly screeched, rushing into the room with her phone out. She seemed upset - nothing new - but more so than usual. Her glare pierced her brother, and she thrust her phone out for you both to see. "What is this?!"

Both of your eyes widened as you sat up and stared at the screen. The screen with an online article that had a headline stating, 'POP STAR VENEER: A CHEATER?" with pictures below it showing him handing a brand new purse to another girl, followed by a picture of him writing something on her arm with one eye closed - a photographed wink.

"That's not..." He trailed off as your phone buzzed.

Incoming message: Unknown number

You're not the only girl he gifts things to. Ready to come back now?

You dropped your phone.

a/n - part 3 here.

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 25: Wondering If I Just Lost The Love Of My Life

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After your conversation with Frank, you start spiraling, and you find yourself at Jimmy's house, looking desperately for answers. Michael isn't too happy about that.

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, snooping around, snakes, allusions to child abuse & PTSD, Michael is pissed (and maybe a bit mean), rough grabbing of the arm (Is that a warning?), fighting, crying, semi-break up

Word Count: 8.6k

A/n: WOHOO I'M BACK!! Anyway, this chapter is only the beginning of this angst plot line, so... Don't hate me.

Tick, tick, tick…

One hour turns into two. Two hours turned into three. You’re alone, stuck in a house that isn’t yours, holding pictures of your sister who you haven’t seen in years in your hands because the man you chose to fall in love with has a family set out to destroy you; and for what? Because they aren’t happy with an adult man’s decisions?

Your life feels like it was written by a sadistic author; far more sadistic than yourself. You can’t keep up anymore.

Just a few months ago, you were somewhat happy working your ass off for some money at the Butterfly Effect. You made the process of brewing coffee for customers your life, and you enjoyed it. You fled your home to chase your dream of being a writer. What else are you supposed to do with your degree, anyway? And you were on a good path, saving money and trying to find an agent, but then Michael walked into your life. 

You don’t want to say that he ruined everything. You love him. You love him more than you have ever loved anyone, which is horrifying in itself, but you can’t deny that your life may have been a little easier if he hadn’t come into the shop that morning. If you hadn’t allowed yourself to get attached. Now, you’re involved with a family who is swimming against the flow of legality—and what scares you most about all of this are the thoughts you keep having that perhaps the Kinsellas could help you in a way not even the police ever could. 

You’re pressed against the wall next to the dining table, and your lungs keep forgetting that they are supposed to supply your body with life-sustaining oxygen. Every now and then, your eyes drift to the pictures in your hands. A tear rolls down your cheek, landing on the paper. It magnifies the size of your father’s face, and the memories that hit you at full force leave you clawing at the wood of the nearest chair. 

You were doing so well. You were an awkward barista with a safe future to look forward to. Now, you’re a barista using up all of her sick days because she isn’t allowed to leave the house of her Irish boyfriend—who just so happens to be part of an organized crime family. It sounds like the plot of a bad novel, but to you, it is very much real. 

Time was on your side until it wasn’t, and you have reached a point where desperation seems too kind of a word to explain what you’re feeling. Raw, unbridled anger fills your veins; the need to take the next plane out of Dublin is all-consuming, but you can’t be irrational. Not now. Michael was right about that part. 

You can’t help who you fall in love with, you know as much. Michael is damaged, but he’s yours. He is so human, you wish you could wrap him up and shield him from the world forever. From his family. From the pain. From the uncertainty. You wish you could grab him, your bags, and his daughter and run far away from this city. But those are wishes that seem too far away to even grasp.

If you have to get involved to prevent the worst from happening, you don’t have much of a choice but to do so. You only have one more thing left to lose, and she means the world to you. Breaking the rules—the law—seems like the lesser evil compared to waiting for the hourglass to run out of sand.

With shaky fingers, you dial the number you have dialed a few days ago. It’s still in your caller list. 

The line clicks, and the woman at Scotland Yard’s front desk answers again. It’s the same as last time. “Uh, hi,” you stammer into the speaker. “I called a few days ago, but I haven’t received an answer yet. I need to speak to Inspector Jones. It’s urgent. Would you mind connecting me with his office?”

Silence follows. Either she is taking a very pregnant pause to tell you something completely opposite of what you want to hear, or she is checking something in her system. You do hope it is the latter option. But of course, luck is still not on your side. 

The woman utters your name in the lowest tone possible. “Inspector Jones told me to inform you that he does not want to take your call,” she says. “He put you on his, uh, no-call list. I’m sorry, Miss. I wish I had better news.”

Her apology doesn’t bring back the hope he so mercilessly crushed in his bare hands and left it there, dying on the side of the road. Her apology doesn’t bring back your sister or supply you with the information on the case only Richard Jones has. He used to be so helpful when it happened. He told you that you could always call him. 

The question that nags you is, what changed? You haven’t called him in years, and now he suddenly acts like you’re the plague personified? It doesn’t sit right with you, but as soon as you’re on the no-call list, there is no way you can get through to him. 

You don’t wish her goodbye. You don’t tell her, ‘Oh no, it’s alright,’ because it isn’t alright. You hang up without another word, your phone slipping from your hand onto the floor. 

Swallowing a sob, you decide to pull yourself together. Michael keeps his laptop in the living room—though you suppose not always. You flop down on the couch with a huff. Of course, the device is password-protected. A picture on one of his shelves catches your eye, and you reach for it. Part of you is screaming to stop because looking at a picture of his daughter feels like an invasion of privacy, but you can’t listen to the left side of your brain. You turn it around, in search of the right combination of numbers. 

Anna’s birthday. It sounds so obvious—too obvious for a man as careful as Michael—but as soon as you type the numbers into the bar and hit enter, his laptop unlocks. 

“So predictable,” you mutter.

Instead of finding his desktop though, you stare right at an open folder you are sure is not meant for your eyes. It is also protected by a password, which you can tell by the little lock following the icon, but Michael must have forgotten to close it.

You should close the folder, open a browser, and do what you intended to do—write an email to forego the no-call list and guilt-trip Inspector Jones into finding the balls to contact you back. It is a desperate attempt that might get you a restraining order, but you have to try. For that, Michael would surely not be mad at you. If you start snooping though…

Your eyes have a mind of their own, following an instinct as old as time. You can’t help yourself. You tilt the screen back, and you take a closer look. 

The idea is so maddeningly risky your stomach churns at the thought of the possible consequences of your actions, but who else is going to tell you the truth if you don’t find out yourself? Michael doesn’t want to drag you into his mess as you’re dealing with your own, and while you get that, you are so far beyond common sense that you need to know what the man you love is involved in. You need to know what his family is involved in. If you don’t, you’re sure curiosity might actually kill you. 

You tried to avoid getting caught up in the dangers of the Kinsella family; you should have known that trying and succeeding hardly ever go hand-in-hand when it comes to your mess of a life.

You know Michael. You know how careful he is when it comes to dealing with delicate matters. He told you he didn’t want to get swept up in his family’s bullshit again, but as you look at what’s in front of you, you’re not so sure he told you the truth. 

The file contains mostly recollections of the family business. Drugs, weapons, larceny—not that it would ever change the way you feel about him, even if he did lie to you. This is not the worst you have seen, and it surely won’t be the last piece of dramatic information that will ever pass before your eyes. 

What catches your attention is the mention of Jamie, the record of his death, and a stolen autopsy report. And among all of that, you find a name Michael and Jimmy threw at each other’s heads the other day. Your hand still hurts just thinking about it. 

A loud thud echoes through the house when you forcefully shut the laptop. Every nerve in your body is burning itself alive. Your soul can’t withstand the storm of your emotions. The truth hits you. Around you, the world is falling apart, and you are unable to move anywhere but further into the chaos. 

Michael came into the café months ago because he was in desperate need of a reprieve—he was the butterfly that flapped its wings over in Asia—and now you are on the verge of getting caught up in something that you will never be able to get out of again; it is a catastrophe waiting to happen. 

Destiny and karma are very real phenomena, but so is the Butterfly Effect. Instead of innocent coffee though, you are staring into the face of disaster, and you have no idea what to do. 

An idea pops into your head. You shouldn’t seek out trouble. You really, really should not, but not even five minutes later, the door to Michael’s home falls shut behind you as you take determined steps next door. Not across the street, not to your car but next door.

The realization that Michael might never forgive you for putting yourself in this position moves to the back of your mind. You promised him not to do anything stupid while he was gone, but you knew from the start that you would never be able to keep that promise. 

Your feet are rooted to the ground as you ring the doorbell. At first, you receive no response. Just when you figured that you must have misinterpreted the movements in the neighboring home that you caught through the bedroom window earlier this morning, the gate opens, and you snap out of the endless spiral of your thoughts.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Jimmy asks, his eyes trailing over your disheveled frame on his doorstep. 

Your eyes are red and swollen, and your outfit consists of a pair of Michael’s sweatpants and a shirt, but you weren’t planning on winning a fashion contest anyway. Jimmy deserves to see how miserable you are. Maybe then he will let you in.

He raises his eyebrows. “What? Came to hit my wife again? Last time wasn’t enough for ya?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, trying to hold contact with his dark eyes. “I need to talk to you,” you state matter-of-factly.

He eyes you again. “You look like shit.”

“Then I look better than I feel.”

“Hm. Does Michael know yer here?”

You expected him to snap at you—to lecture you—but that moment never comes.

You swallow thickly, then shake your head. “I’m here for answers,” you say. “And I feel like out of everyone in this family, you’re the only one who’ll be honest with me.”

“Why d’ya think I’d do that?” Jimmy asks.

“‘Cause you don’t like that I’m fucking your brother. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you couldn’t care less about what happens to me, which means that you also don’t feel the need to protect me or my delicate feelings.”

His lips curl into a smirk. As different as they are when it comes to their behavior, it is obvious that Jimmy and Michael are related. 

“I’m so sick and tired of not knowing. Not understanding. Not…not being in control.” Your lip quivers, and you bite down on it for a moment. “You didn’t act on Frank’s offer to threaten someone you don’t even know, so a twisted part of me feels like I can trust you. I won’t apologize for falling in love with your brother because despite what you all believe, he is an incredible man and he deserves the world. But loving him put my sister’s life at stake, and I need to know what I’m getting myself into before I lose her too. I–I just...I need five minutes. Please. And then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.”

Against all odds, Jimmy steps aside, motioning for you to enter. The house is as luxurious as you expected. High walls, big windows, and cool tones. The nature of your visit, however, only fills you with a sense of uneasiness. 

You close the door behind you and follow Jimmy down the hallway. You wouldn’t dare push your luck by saying something uncalled for.

Now that Jamie’s dead, you understand why Michael always seems so stuck in thought. The stakes are higher. You try to find a sliver of understanding for why Birdy was so cautious with you and asked you all the questions that you saw as a personal attack. She wanted to protect you, and maybe that is true, but she let Frank’s actions slide for a little too long and you don’t know if you can forgive her for that.

She ended up attacking you personally even if that was never her intention, and she let her brother attack everything you hold dear by trying to protect her own family, and that is not something you can let slide.

Jimmy walks up to a set of stairs that lead into the basement. You’re hesitant at first, standing at the top of the steps and staring down at him with narrow eyes. “Are you going to kill me?” you bluntly ask. 

He rolls his eyes. “Unarmed,” he says. “You can check me. I’m not carryin’.”

“What if there are guns down there?”

“There are, but I’m not gonna use ‘em to hurt ya. Michael would cut off my head and feed it to the dogs.”

You huff, but you eventually cave and follow him down the stairs. You hear him mumble something about you being complicated, and maybe you are, but can anyone blame you? You feel like you just walked into the lion’s den. Perhaps you are insane. 

You function on a very determined autopilot that wants you to do things you would never have done a few weeks ago, and you have no choice but to follow or else you will bang your head against the wall; Michael really shouldn’t have left you alone. 

The basement resembles a second living room. A leather couch stands against the wall to the right, and Jimmy has a collection of free weights to choose from to work out. There is even a pool table and a fridge you suppose holds liquor only. It must be the family’s layer for when they get together and discuss whatever a family like them has to discuss. 

Looking further, you notice the terrarium in the middle of the room. It’s gigantic. You step a little closer. The yellow anaconda is easy to spot. You don’t doubt it could strangle you if you put it around your neck. It is surely thick enough to crush your windpipe in an instant.

“Drink?” Jimmy asks from somewhere behind you.

You shake your head. “I’m good.”

He hums. You can hear the sound of ice cubes hitting a glass, and he pours whiskey over it. 

“You like snakes?”

You look at him, and then back at the snake. “I find them fascinating,” you state. 

“They’re fascinatin’ creatures, alright,” he says. “You wanna hold her?”

You don’t miss a beat, “Absolutely not.”

“Okay.”

You stand there in silence for a while, just watching the anaconda move her large body around her transparent living quarters. She sticks out her tongue. If you could talk to animals, you wonder what she would tell you. What has she witnessed in this room? The snake knows all the answers to the questions you are asking yourself.

“Why Michael?” Jimmy breaks the silence.

“He’s a good man,” you answer. It doesn’t require much thought. “I told you. He’s a much better man than you give him credit for.”

“A good man has no place here.”

“Who are you to judge that?”

He scoffs. “You have any idea what yer gettin’ yourself into?” 

“I knew from the moment I found out who he was. That doesn’t change how I feel about him.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

“If you’re going to tell me that it’s my fault that I got caught up in all of this, save it. I’m well aware of that.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because I love him!” your voice echoes in the spacious basement. “I love Michael with all my heart. So much it hurts. I would do anything for him because you failed him over and over again, and he deserves so much better than you useless lot.”

Taken aback by the force of your words without actively yelling at him, Jimmy lowers his glass. He stares at you with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment in his eyes, and you’ve seen that look in Michael’s eyes one too many times. You want to smash something, but that would only make matters worse, and you really didn’t come to cause a scene.

Jimmy infuriates you in a way not many men have managed. You want to hit him, give him a shiner that will rival the one his wife is probably carrying, but realistically, you don’t stand much of a chance against this man. He is strong. He could feed you to his anaconda if he wanted to. Even if Michael would behead him, he would do anything to save himself. He is the epitome of selfishness, and you refuse to stoop low enough to be on his level.

You take a deep breath, lowering your voice again. “But I’m not just here because I love Michael. I’m here because your uncle decided that he had to let out his disdain for me on an innocent child,” you say.

“I’m not okay with that either,” Jimmy cuts in. “I don’t have control over Frank’s actions. I lost my son–”

“I’m aware, and I am so sorry for your loss, I am. I know how it feels to lose a child because my father killed my little sister and while she wasn’t my biological daughter, I was the one who raised her. And I raised Maya too. So, even if I left, even if I broke Michael’s heart and gave you what you so desperately want, my sister would still be in danger. My father would still be running free. And I’d still have no choice but to stay here because thanks to you, I am in danger too and Michael refuses to let me leave.”

A sigh leaves his parted lips, and he empties his glass. 

“This isn’t about me, Jimmy. It never has been. Not for me, at least. This is about Maya as much as your insecurities are about Michael. Except that Maya is a human being who has nothing to do with any of this. Not with Michael, not with you, and not with your godforsaken family. You don’t have to remind me how awful of a human being I am—I’m well aware of that myself, trust me, but I won’t stop trying to get answers until I have found a way to make sure she’s okay. That she’s safe. That I can get her back and end this once and for all because Frank didn’t leave me a fucking choice.”

You pull the pictures out of your coat. “He came to the house earlier. Gave me those. He said he told his men to leave her alone, but who’s to say that he didn’t already do irreversible damage?” you say. “I don’t know why Michael being happy is such a huge inconvenience to you, but I don’t care. I care about my family. Now, you can either help me or not, but don’t act like you have any right whatsoever to lecture me. You don’t even fucking know me.”

Jimmy takes the photographs. His eyebrows furrow slightly as he stares down at them. A drop of condensation from his glass drops on the paper, the same spot your tears dried into.

Your chest still heaves with every breath you take. “Jimmy,” you growl. The silence drills into your skull. 

When he finally opens his mouth, his voice resembles a steady tune. “I don’t stand behind Frank,” he says. “Not on this. He shouldn’t have done it.”

“I am well aware of that, thank you.”

“None of us knew yer story. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For Frank, for Birdy—hell, I’m even sorry fer how Amanda treated you. If I’d known…”

“Would you’ve stopped her?” you counter. 

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“It matters to me.”

“There are ways to get rid of someone without puttin’ anyone in unnecessary danger. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

His expression is set in stone. You can’t determine whether or not he’s lying to you.

“Did Michael offer ya his help?” Jimmy asks then. “Regarding your, uh, father.”

You blink a few times, wondering if he really just asked you that. But you swallow your doubts, straighten your shoulders, and you nod. “Yeah, he did,” you say.

“Offered t’put a protective detail on her? Kill the bastard?”

“Something along those lines.”

“Then why hasn’t he?”

“Because death would be too kind for that man.”

The faintest smirk starts playing on his lips. “Can’t blame ya,” he states. 

“Of course not,” you retort. “I won’t stoop to my father’s level. He deserves to be put in prison for the rest of his life. A bullet to his head would end his suffering, and I refuse to let him down that easily.”

“Is that why you came here?”

You shake your head again. “I need answers.”

“Why wouldn’t Michael give them to ya?” Jimmy cocks an eyebrow. “He’s fuckin’ obsessed.”

“He may love me, but he has a protective instinct that makes it almost impossible for me to get the whole truth out of him,” you explain. “Michael wasn’t there when Frank came over. Perhaps because he knew Michael wouldn’t be there. He caught me off guard. I was vulnerable, and he used that against me.”

He tilts his head. “What did he say?”

“Just that he put an end to what he started. But I can’t believe that, now can I? He’d already started it.”

“You’re a lot smarter than I thought.”

Your lips part in a bitter scoff. “I found some things on Michael’s laptop,” you tell him. “I need to understand what I got myself into here. Maybe find some common ground. In my mind, after everything that went down at Birdy’s house, you’re the least untrustworthy, and while we may not be the best of friends, I can’t limit myself to what Michael thinks is right. Take it as a compliment or don’t, but I’m desperate here.”

He murmurs your name as he makes his way over to the open bottle of whiskey to pour himself another glass. His steps are careful.

You are well aware that you should tread carefully, and Jimmy seems to be on the same page as you that this is a bad idea, but you were desperate and you saw no other choice. You would have crawled up the walls of Michael’s empty house if you had waited, staring at the bullet holes in the walls and wondering if you would end up dead at the end of this the same way his wife did; or if you’d merely lose everything you’ve ever loved and be left with nothing else left to give.

“Who’s Eamon?” you blurt out. 

Jimmy stops dead in his tracks. You hit a nerve. Seemingly with a sledgehammer, too.

“Because from what I heard and what Michael has on him, he’s a perilous man.”

“Fuck!” Jimmy curses under his breath.

“Please, I just want to know. What is Michael caught up in?”

“We’re all caught up in it.” The tone of his voice has changed and switched to a more dangerous octave, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Eamon—Eamon fuckin’ Cunningham had my son killed, and Michael thinks he’s too good to help us get back at him because of Anna. That’s what.”

Your eyes soften. “I’m sorry, I—”

“He’s our supplier. Drugs. If ya really wanna know. Changed his business model. Wants us t’be his bitches. He’s a power-hungry bastard, that one. I didn’t wanna cave, but then Jamie—and Frank—”

With an animalistic growl that resembles a string of curses, he wipes the small table before him clean. The contents shatter on the ground, scattering millions of pieces of glass around the basement floor. You flinch.

The echo of his shout remains stuck to the walls. One of the shards scratches your forearm—not nearly enough to draw blood—before hitting the ground. The force causes the bottle to implode, and the crystal glasses break beyond repair the second they hit the ground.

You want to tell him that Michael doesn’t owe him anything. You want to tell Jimmy that none of this is Michael’s fault, but you have enough empathy to know when to speak and when to just be silent.

Grief is an unpredictable monster.

Jimmy takes a deep breath, then turns back around to face you. “I dunno what I can tell ya, but this family isn’t safe for someone like you,” he says. It sounds as though he actually cares, but you see right through him this time. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you answer, trying to pick your words with an incredible amount of care; don’t raise your voice, don’t shout at him, just tell him what’s on your mind in a way that is respectful and he might not lash out at you. “But Michael is fresh out of prison, trying to find himself a place in this world. I understand why he said that he can’t help you execute whatever revenge you have planned for whoever did this to your son. And I understand that this business you’re in is dangerous for every party involved, but that doesn’t deter me.”

Across the room, he meets your eyes. 

“I knew what I was getting myself into from the start,” you emphasize. “Michael promised me I’d be safe, and I trust him with my life, but now your family put my sister in danger, and we have to find a way to put an end to this mess because I refuse to let your little family dispute ruin my life. Michael can’t help me as he promised when he can’t manage to separate himself from you. Finding that file proved to me that he may have said that he’s done, but he isn’t, so I might as well accept that I’m not getting out of this either.”

He exhales, wiping his sticky hands on his trousers. “I underestimated ya,” he says. “But I suppose that’s what happens when your father’s a bastard.”

You shrug. “I just can’t run when you’re my only hope.”

Jimmy chuckles. “If we’re your only hope, I feel bad for ya.”

“Believe me, I feel plenty bad for myself already, but if I’d waited and told Michael about my plans, he wouldn’t have let me come here, and I still wouldn’t be much smarter than I was this morning.”

“Would you do somethin’ for us then? If we helped ya?” he asks. 

One hand washes the other, right?

The words for an answer get taken out of your mouth by the sound of the front door slamming shut. 

“Where is she?” Michael’s voice breaks through the ceiling. 

Your eyes widen. You have heard him feral before—when he was holding the gun to Frank’s head and threatened him, his voice lowering, barely above a whisper but every word as forceful as the next. His silent anger is the most dangerous form. It did something to you to see the man you love so livid because he saw your life at stake. 

You weren’t scared of him, you couldn’t possibly be, but the thought alone spikes the adrenaline in your veins, and your mind screams for you to run. It is the kind of effect he wants to have on people when he is angry; it is the type of effect he has on everyone because one looks at his fuming self and anyone would want to cower in the corner and cry. And maybe it makes your thighs clench just a little because no amount of fury could take away from how attractive this man is. But that is not the first thought that crosses your mind now.

The stairs creak with every heavy step Michael takes into the basement, and you hold your breath. Fuck. 

Jimmy stares at the mess on the floor, then back at you. You wonder if he’s scared that he might be the next in front of Michael’s gun. He surely didn’t hesitate when it came to Frank. Who knows if he would draw the line at his brother, but from what you have gathered from their relationship, there is a chance he won’t. 

“Jimmy,” is the first word on his lips when he makes it downstairs. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, and his fists clench at his sides. The cuddly teddy bear you said goodbye to this morning has disappeared completely under an iron veil. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Michael sneers. 

Your first instinct is to step between him and his brother. Only then does he seem to take a look at you. You meet his brown eyes, your palms extended to press against his chest. 

“Easy,” you murmur. You don’t see the need to snap at him. 

He takes you in, his clothes hugging your curves just right, and in an instant, his large hands are cupping your face. “You alright?” he asks, and the fury is gone for a moment as he checks you for injuries. As though he truly believes that his brother would hurt you. 

You nod. “I’m fine, I promise. I—”

Michael cuts you off. He pulls you to his side, almost behind himself, glaring at Jimmy. “Why’s she here with ya, huh?” Again, his demeanor changes. “She didn’t do anythin’! Frank put her life in danger, and you still treat her like a fuckin’ intruder?”

“Hold up, Michael. No,” Jimmy says. His shoulders broaden as he takes a step forward. “I didn’t–”

“Yes, ya fuckin’ did,” Michael interrupts him. “If you hurt or threatened her in any way, I swear to God—”

“No!” you raise your voice slightly, only enough to catch his attention. His head whips toward you. “He didn’t ask me here,” you confess. “I came here to talk to him, not the other way around. Jimmy…he didn’t do anything. I’m okay, baby. Please.”

His eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of your words, and he slumps. He turns to you, his hand on your bicep, and he asks, breathlessly, “You what?”

The emotions in his eyes are a whirlwind that burns through the guilt in your stomach. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I had to.”

“Had to what?”

“Come here. Frank came over, and he gave me the pictures he was planning to use to blackmail me, telling me about how he told his men to back off, but—”

Michael snatches them from Jimmy’s hands, his knuckles white with how hard he is gripping them. 

“I was going crazy,” you say. “I called Scotland Yard, but Inspector Jones put me on his no-call list, so I thought I would write him an email. I was going to use your laptop, but you…you must’ve forgot to close one of the folders, and I accidentally started scrolling, and—”

“Jesus!” He shakes his head. “And you went t’ Jimmy about that?”

“I didn’t have a choice, okay? You said you didn’t want to get involved in anything illegal again, for Anna’s sake, but you lied to me. I don’t blame you. I know I’m not getting out of this, and I don’t want to because you mean the world to me, so I thought I could talk to Jimmy and we could find a compromise. After Frank…I didn’t think there was time to be rational about this. I’m sorry, Michael. I know you told me to sit tight, but I had to.”

“Five hours,” he growls. “You couldn’t wait five hours?”

Jimmy pipes up. “She was curious about Eamon,” he says. “I gave her the answers she was lookin’ for because you wouldn’t.”

Michael’s grip on your arm tightens, and it stings. You try to free yourself, but he won’t let you. 

“Whatever you two discussed,” he snarls, “It’s off the table.”

You glare at him. “What?” 

His fingers dig into your sensitive flesh. “Off the table, pet. You’re not gettin’ involved with this family.”

“What do you mean, I’m not getting involved with this family? I already am!”

“The fuck you are.” He drags you toward the door. 

“Michael,” you choke out, “you’re hurting me.”

You have never seen him like this, and you never would have thought he would grab you like this. 

He loosens his grip, but it’s still not enough to free you from his grasp. “I’m sorry,” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

You scoff. He may be sorry for hurting you, which you know was unintentional because he often underestimates his power, but he isn’t sorry for treating you like a child because he is still pulling you toward the stairs. 

“Michael,” Jimmy stops him. “Maybe we could talk ‘bout this?”

“No. You can get fucked!”

“Jesus,” you snap at him. 

“Home,” Michael tells you. “Now.”

His house isn’t even home to you, but you don’t have a choice. And as you make your way next door again, a feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. A feeling that makes you sick. 

Are you actually scared of him? Meeting his eyes once the door is closed behind you though, you can’t stop imagining your father in front of you, and it makes your heart race up to your throat.

Michael raises his hand to his forehead, the other resting on his hip. “Fuck!” He doesn’t say it to you. He would never. 

He is trying to get rid of his anger to have a normal conversation—to talk this through because he doesn’t understand why you would put yourself at risk like that—but your brain doesn’t function the way it did this morning. To you, he is cursing at nothing but you.  

You see his hand out of the corner of your eye, and you flinch. Your entire body recoils, and the air changes. He seems to realize what he did almost instantly. You hug your arms around yourself, avoiding his eyes, hoping you won’t cry, but the tears are treacherous as they start to pave their way forward. It burns.

“I—I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice is soft again. His hand is gone, but oh, you can’t open yourself up to him again. “My love, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.” He takes a step forward. 

He didn’t, and he still isn’t thinking, it seems. You take a step back. He is suffocating you. 

“I’m not angry,” he tries again. “I just wanna understand…”

You swallow thickly. “I explained it to you,” the words flow out in a monotone line. 

“Why Jimmy? Why?”

“If I’d asked you, would you have told me the truth?” You meet his eyes, and it hits him like a strike of lightning. “If I’d asked you about the folder, about what the fuck is going on, would you have answered or would you have tried to keep me out of it?” you ask again. 

Michael gnaws at his bottom lip. “I told ya we’d find a way. We’d make a plan,” he says.

He is diverting. He can’t give you the answer you asked of him, and somehow that breaks your heart. It drills a sharp knife through your ribs, causing you to bleed out in front of him. 

“There is no other way,” you argue.

“There is always another way.”

“Not in this case, there isn't.”

“I cannot have you doing dirty work for my family. Fuckin’ Christ!” The whisper turns into a desperate plea, “Why can’t you see that?”

You wipe your cheeks with a furious index finger. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you fucked me.”

“Sorry?” He is taken aback by your tone of voice.

“You made me fall in love with you, knowing that being with you would put me in danger,” you cry. “I’ve always been okay with it, but you have to stop coddling me like I’m a child. I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions.”

“This isn’t fair,” he says. “I’m just tryin’ to keep ya safe.“

“But I’m not the only one who matters.”

“You’re the only one who matters to me!”

The silence that washes over you is charged to the maximum. Michael’s words echo in your mind. 

“I know you love your sister,” he murmurs, “but you promised not to make any rash decisions.”

“I know,” you reply coolly.

“You should’ve waited. You should’ve talked t’me.” Michael shakes his head.

You sniffle. You can’t look at him. “So you own me now, huh?” 

“No, that’s not—”

“You say you want to protect me, to keep me safe, but has it ever crossed your mind, even for a second, that I don’t want to be saved?”

His chest heaves with the breath he inhales. His hands remain on his hips. He fiddles with the fabric of his sweater—he always does it when he’s nervous, or when he’s fuming. You watch his body language and read it like an open book, but there is a distance between you. You thought maybe he would be a little pissed, but this behavior is worse. It tears your soul apart, piece by piece.

Again, he inhales, and he exhales again. “You’re reckless,” he states. Somehow though, he makes it sound like an accusation. 

“So what?” you retort.

“So what? Are you even listening to yerself?”

“Don’t snap at me.”

“I’m not—” he clenches his jaw. “Trust me, if I snapped at ya, it would sound a lot different. I’m just tryin’ to figure you out ‘cause I can’t fuckin’ read ya right now.”

You offer a sarcastic hum. You don’t have to think far to find the words. They are right there on the tip of your tongue. “Maya’s living with a monster who would raise hell if he found out the truth. The same monster who tortured me. The same monster who murdered my sister. Now, I feel like I’m being followed everywhere I go,” you say. “The family of the man I love would rather see me fall than accept me. I can’t go back to London. I can’t go home. I can’t…I can’t even go back to work.”

You sniffle again. “Brewing coffee used to be my life. I was working toward being something more. Someone more. I was writing, I was being creative, and I was somewhat happy. I had a plan, you understand?” With every word out of your mouth, your voice rises to new volumes. “I had a plan to get my revenge eventually and move on, but now...now my life is whatever this shit is, and I hate it. Okay? I hate it.”

You’re not angry; you’re broken, but saying it out loud won’t move mountains, and when the last word passes your lips, still nothing has changed. It won’t change. You can pray, you can beg, and you can scream at the sky in hopes that someone—anyone—will hear you, but it is a losing game. Life is a losing game.

Michael whimpers in the back of his throat. “Don’t,” he begs.

“I hate—” You stare up at the ceiling. The tears taste salty on your tongue. 

“Stop it.”

“I hate it here, Mikey.”

God, he knows that you only call him that when you feel like you have reached a dead end, but this time, he can’t save you; he, himself, has reached a dead end that he can’t escape from, and the ocean between you is far too broad to cross. You sob, and he wants to sob with you. 

“I hate what my life has become,” you cry softly. Your soft cries are the most painful to listen to. “And I hate that loving you hurts so fucking much I can’t breathe.”

This conversation feels oddly familiar. As if you have had it before. As if it is a daily occurrence as your demons fight against each other for dominance.

“I wish I could change that,” Michael whispers back to you. He is so far away, yet you still hear him perfectly.

You shudder. “Make me hate you, you mean?”

“No, not that. Although yes, sometimes.”

“I wish I could hate you sometimes, too,” the admission rolls off your tongue like a bullet from a gun. 

He nods. His eyes never leave your fragile frame, barely holding on by a thread. “I wish I could take it all away from ya,” he says. “The fear, the pain... And I wish it were easier to protect those you love. But I dunno how. And I dunno how t’be…better.”

A better man, he wanted to say. Better for you, better for Anna, and better for anyone else. Michael feels unworthy of your love. He had hope; for a few days, he had hope, but hope never lasts long with him. It always dies because everything he touches eventually withers like a fragile flower. He doesn’t say it though. He doesn’t know how.

You sniffle, shaking your head. “You don’t have to be better. I just need you to understand,” you say.

“I do,” Michael insists. “I do understand.”

“I’m glad you do, but I don’t. I need a chance at ruining the life of the man who caused so much damage I don’t even know what has become of me. I want to ruin his life the same way he ruined mine. I want to put him away for the rest of his miserable life so maybe my mother can get the help she refused to get when I last gave her the chance, and provide my sister with a normal life. That’s what I need.”

But what you need and can have are two different pairs of shoes. 

After a deep breath that lasts several seconds and allows the silence to stretch into a pregnant pause, you find your words again to continue. “The file I have on Ellie’s death is circumstantial, we both know that,” you say. “It won’t be enough. We won’t be enough—” Your voice cracks. “A security detail or killing my father won’t fix this. You telling me you love me won’t fix this. And saying ‘we will figure this out’ while you keep a folder on your family’s dealings that might as well also impact me now that Frank has painted a target on my back from me won’t fix this.”

He says your name in a way that sends an unwelcome shiver down your spine. 

“I just couldn’t wait!” It is unlike you to yell, but you have reached your limit. 

Again, Michael curses, running a hand over his face and through his beard.

You lean back against the wall, defeated beyond relief. “What do you want from me, Michael?” you plead. “Because I feel like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.” 

“C’mon,” he breathes, “I never said that.”

“No, but it certainly feels that way.”

“I don’t want to lose ya, alright? That’s all I’ve got.” He sounds like a broken record. “I…I just found out that I probably have no chance at gettin’ Anna back, even after all I did, and I can’t…I just can’t…” 

The urge to reach out and take him into your arms is overwhelming. Tears glisten in his eyes now, and his body is quivering with agony. He’s holding back. He’s trying not to show you just how scared and in pain he truly is, but he can’t hide the truth from you.

On any other day, you would have crossed the room and hugged him with the promise of never letting him go, but can’t bring yourself up to get any closer because he is not the only one close to falling apart.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp out.

“I can’t lose you too,” Michael whispers. “If I get involved again with my family—if I choose to fight—that’s another story. I am who I am, and I can’t change that, but yer not; you’re everything to me. And I won’t put the goodness of yer heart at risk. I can’t—”

You silence him with your hand. “I am not Anna.”

“I know, but—”

“I am not Anna,” you repeat. “I can’t replace her. I won’t replace her. I am not a consolation prize, and I am not yours to command.”

Your steps are heavy as you reach for your bag. “No,” he grunts. He reaches for your arm again, but you elude him.

“Don’t touch me.”

You’re not even sure if this can be called fighting. You were arguing until you weren’t. It’s a quiet storm, but it causes the most damage.

The door is calling for you. You can’t stay here. You feel like you’re drowning—like he is taking all the air out of your lungs. You can’t stand here and argue and fight, and you definitely can’t stay and be quiet with him. That hurts a lot more than being yelled at. Silent anger kills, and you’re not sure if you can come back from this. 

How did you get here? When he left this morning, he kissed you. Now, there seem to be a million worlds standing between you, and you can’t find common ground. You’re floating in space, and Michael can’t haul you back, but perhaps that is not the problem. The problem is that you don’t want to be hauled back. 

His hand finds your waist, and he pulls you against him. “You’re not leaving,” he says. The gruff sound of his voice used to be your favorite.

“Let me go,” you murmur.

Michael shakes his head. You suck in a sharp breath when he presses his forehead to yours. He smells of whiskey and rum. Did he have a drink on his way here? Did he drown his sorrows in liquor and God knows what else? You don’t want to think about how miserable he is. You don’t want to think about what could happen. You just don’t want to think at all. 

“Please,” he begs. “Talk t’me.”

For a moment, you bask in the feeling of his skin against yours, but when it starts to hurt, you have to pull back. “I have nothing left to say.”

The arrow hits him straight through the heart. 

“I’m sleeping in my bed tonight.” You throw your bag over your shoulder, and you turn away so he won’t see you cry. “We’re no good for each other right now.”

He scoffs. It is a bitter sound that laces the air like a toxin. “We’ve never been good for each other.” 

You ignore the sting his words leave behind. “Then maybe it’s a good thing I’m leaving,” you say.

The sound of the wall breaking under the weight of his fist is the last thing you hear before you step out into the cold evening air.

Your cheeks are wet with tears, but you don’t look back. You get into your car; you don’t even take another look at the house. You turn on the engine, and you pull out of the parking lot.

Michael’s house and the rest of the Kinsellas disappear behind you, your sobs echoing in the small space of your car. You might have to do this on your own, after all, and with that comes the realization that you might have just lost the love of your life, too. 

The question is just, was it worth it?

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight

[cryptidcorners]

Wilderness — Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader

Description: Mike had only took this job for a few reasons: To watch his sister in some cheap, rural camp in the middle of nowhere and to repay the dollars he spent; even if the money was low.

You were acquainted as a partnering counselor, much to your dismay — he didn't take his job seriously unless his sister was involved and you questioned his methods of responsibility; until you both get lost and he brings himself to help you despite everything.

# No Request

# A.N: finally completed this wooo!! enjoy

Media: FNaF [Movie]

Character: Mike Schmidt

Tags: Counselors, Headcanons/Imagines Mixed In, Grumpy Mike, Fluff, Cute Stuff, Bantering/Flirting, Comfort, Friends/Slight Rivals to ? ? ?, Slight Romantic Implications [ Reader is a little Love Sick] , Slow Burn (?) + Reader is GN! Warnings: Slight Blood/Injury

TOS. Mike Schmidt Masterlist

⫸ Mike had only gotten this job because his little sister would be in the same camp. He had struggled to scrape up enough money to get a decent place to spend her vacation and he didn't trust her being alone in the middle of nowhere. Additionally, he also needed work to pay back his spendings.

⫸ He wasn't even that experienced, especially with kids; which was why he was paired with you who had spent about three summers in this dump of a camp.

⫸ As dull as Mike was, he wasn't too shabby in teaching or guiding some of the campers. Sure, he picked favorites (his sister) but he wasn't the worst counselor you had seen. Mike just wanted to get this over with and you could understand that — it was unbearable once you stayed long enough.

⫸ He was stubborn though. Mike was introverted, yes, but he was also really snarky and a little disrespectful at times. You knew he didn't mean anything cruel, he was just blunt; but you couldn't handle it. Just because he was your co-worker didn't stop you two from being frenemies.

Pink sun spots slowly rustled across the grass as the wind whistled through the branches. The clouds were red with the dying sun, slowly falling behind the light horizon; the sky rich with a kaleidoscopic display of luminous colors and gentle breezes.

You would have been enjoying the simplicity of a sunset if Mike hadn't fumbled with the map tightly gripped between his hands and throwing you both off track.

Of course, he had assured he knew the way back but you had been walking in circles for ages. You stopped walking, legs already growing sore. "Look, your trail obviously isn't working." Your arms fell to your sides, your eyes fell to a jagged stone. ". . . And I've seen that rock at least two times."

Mike whipped his head towards your landmark and blinked. "No, that's not—" his face flushed at the realization that maybe, just maybe, he had seen the rock too. Still, he stammered "It's a completely different rock," and waved the page around, trying to make a point. "Don't bullshit." You protested.

You walked over and snatched the map from his hands. Mike didn't pull up much of a fight, only mumbling and releasing a weak: "Fine." Mike didn't like feeling stupid, but he wanted to get back to camp and forget this whole day happened.

You matched forward with a slightly commanding: "This way," which he reluctantly obeyed. For the whole walk, Mike was silently poking his eyes on a stained piece of paper; anytime he was fixated on something, he did it — no time for chit chat or breaks. You ignited some conversation, "Why'd you come to a camp if you hate it so much?"

You were surprised that he answered. "My sister was begging me to go. So I spent months saving, but this was the only affordable camp I could get." He sighed, "I didn't trust her being in the forest with strangers."

You were fond of his compassion, "That's nice of you."

"Yeah, but it's still torture. My body feels like it's on fire. How do you handle this?" He swatted the air, trying to fend off a consistent buzzing. "I'm never doing this again that's for sure."

"Money is a pretty big motive. Also I like nature in general, it's better than something boring." You pulled through a bush that snagged your skin, you grunted as you kicked away from the thorns. "Shit, anyway. Yeah, it's a pain but it's fun too."

"We're night and day." He humored lightly, then his eyes flickered rapidly. Gritting through his teeth, Mike grabbed your shoulder. "Dude, your leg."

"What? Oh — Oh, God." Scarlet dripped down leg, pouring from an open cut. It must have been from the bush. "It's fine."

"What? It can get infected, we're almost at camp aren't we?" You didn't understand why he was so concerned, you two were barely friends. It was just a cut, nothing you hadn't suffered from before. He continued, "I can patch you up if you want."

"It's nothing, Like." You assured. Though, it was starting to hurt but you didn't need any help.

Mike awkwardly extended his hand, "You helped us back, it's the least I could do." he frowned at your silence. "At least let me help you walk back, I don't want to see you limp the whole time."

Reluctantly, you let him. Walking on a cut like that wouldn't end up well and besides you found it oddly endearing how soft he was. His face flushed, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Had you been staring at him? "Sorry." You could hear him giggle, "It's fine."

There was something boyish about him and you wondered if he was the same man you had met the first week.

Entering the infirmary, he set you down. You didn't argue with letting him help, wrapping a cut wouldn't be the end of the world and he looked like he knew what he was doing. You pursed your lips lightly, "Thanks for the help by the way."

The sting of alcohol rubbing against the blood oozed a veil of light pain through your body. Then his hands grew busy wrapping your leg, "It's nothing. Besides, you helped us get back. I know I'm stubborn sometimes and everything, so I'm sorry for being a bit of a dick."

You tilted your head, "Looks like you had a change of heart." he scratched the back of his neck. You trailed on, "I kinda like seeing this side of you, I mean, I didn't expect you to be . . . Well, nice."

Mike dropped his head, eyes cupped with guilt. "I'm just not good with meeting new people."

"That's fair." You leaned back, muscles relaxing. You studied the rural interior of the infirmary, checkered with aging wood and relics starting to rot with age. Cobwebs edged the corners and you could inhale enough dust to send you into a coughing fit, not the best place to get patched in that's for sure.

Your eyes flickered to his longing gaze, "Something wrong?"

"No, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts," he declared. "Can you stand?"

You slid off the stool and applied pressure which prompted you to stumble. Luckily you caught and dug into his arm. "Still hurts a little bit."

"We can wait here." He suggested shyly. "I mean, I can go."

You folded your arms. "No, I want you to stay."

"Really?"

"You seem fun."

He fumbled with his hands before chuckling lightly, you could get used to this sunny side of him.

[girltalkcollectives]

🪞 Trying to love yourself in a world that profits from your self-doubt (and how i'm finally starting to win that battle) 🪞

Let's have an honest conversation about something I've been struggling with lately. You know those days when you're just scrolling through social media, feeling pretty good about yourself, and then BAM ��� suddenly you're wondering if you need that new miracle serum that promises to fix a "flaw" you didn't even know you had?

Yeah, we need to talk about that.

The Reality Check

At 20, I'm constantly bombarded with:

"Anti-aging" products (like… I'm literally TWENTY?)

Filters that completely change my face

Before/after photos that make me question everything

"Clean girl aesthetic" pressure

"That Girl" morning routines

Weight loss ads between every TikTok

"Body trending" conversations (because apparently bodies trend now???)

And honestly? I'm exhausted.

The Hidden Cost

Here's what this constant pressure actually costs us:

Mental energy we could use for literally anything else

Money we could be saving or investing

Confidence in our natural selves

Time we'll never get back

Real connections because we're too anxious about our appearance

The simple joy of existing without criticism

The Truth About "Perfect" Posts

Let's break down what we're usually seeing:

Perfect lighting

Strategic angles

Multiple takes

Careful editing

Specific poses

Curated moments

And sometimes? Straight-up lies

What Nobody Tells You About "Goals" Posts

That influencer with the "perfect morning routine"?

She took 67 takes of that "just woke up" shot

That's not her everyday breakfast

She's not actually that productive every single day

Those workout clips are from different days

The "no makeup" look has makeup

She probably felt anxious posting it too

My Personal Journey

Recently, I started documenting my actual, unfiltered self:

My actual skin texture

Real morning hair

Genuine facial expressions

Normal body positions

Regular daily outfits

Real-life messy moments

And something magical happened: nothing. The world didn't end. People didn't run away screaming. Life just… continued.

The Small Wins

I'm celebrating these victories:

Posting pictures without filters

Wearing what feels comfortable

Going out without makeup sometimes

Unfollowing accounts that make me feel bad

Actually believing compliments

Calling out beauty standards with friends

What's Actually Helping

Here's what's making a real difference:

Curating my social media: Unfollowing anything that triggers comparison

Finding real role models: Following people who look like me and rock it

Reality checks with friends: Honest conversations about our insecurities

Gratitude practice: Focusing on what my body does, not how it looks

Setting boundaries: It's okay to skip conversations about diets/appearance

The Mindset Shifts

I'm learning that:

Beauty standards are made up and literally change every decade

Companies profit from our insecurities

"Perfect" doesn't exist

Confidence is more attractive than any physical feature

My worth isn't tied to my appearance

It's okay to be a work in progress

To Anyone Struggling

Remember:

You don't owe anyone prettiness

Your body is not a trend

You're allowed to take up space

Your worth isn't measured in likes

Beauty standards are fake

You're enough, right now, as you are

Moving Forward

Here's what I'm committing to:

Being honest about my struggles

Sharing unfiltered moments

Supporting other women

Calling out toxic beauty standards

Celebrating all types of beauty

Working on loving myself as I am

The Revolution Starts With Us

Maybe the most rebellious thing we can do is just… exist. Unapologetically. Without shrinking or filtering or constantly apologizing.

[rintarousgirl]

i wanna be yours -- 11. baby, i'm yours

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou.

a/n: making this series was so amazing. i got so much support throughout, and i've always wanted it to be the absolute best for all of you. i hope this is a satisfying ending in your eyes, even if it isn't in mine. i apologize for the hectic uploading schedule. i've been overestimating just how much i can do and recently had to drop a day in my schedule because i was just getting so sick and run down all the time. tysm to everyone who stuck around, i love every single person who takes the time to read my silly little internet stories.

-

The hallway is quiet, save for the rolling carts of a few hotel maids. Kita had rented out the whole floor, seeing as we had two weekend shows at different locations in the same vicinity.

Your room had been on the far end, Kira’s next to it, and then the rest of the band. It’d been his idea, supposedly, but you’re sure the far proximity had something to do with Rintarou’s room down the hall.

You make your way down the hall, planting your feet right outside his room. You raise your hand to knock when your heart gives one particularly harsh beat in your chest that shocks through your core like lightning.

Fear.

What if he left you because he was bored? What if he lied? Maybe it wasn’t because he thought he was ruining your friendships, maybe he just wanted someone else.

Your stomach churns uneasily, rolling back into your gut like a tide before a tsunami.

You were stupid, so so stupid for all of this.

Your hand falls to your side, but you can’t seem to move your feet. They’re weights, stuck to your legs, keeping you grounded.

Flightless, trying to force you to accept the fears you’ve been mulling over for a month. All the running and avoiding. The hoops you jumped through so you could do his makeup and be done with him entirely. Out of blind anger, hatred, and pure unadulterated love.

You loved Suna Rintarou, and clearly he loved you it he was willing to let you go for your own happiness. And at the same time he was so unbelievably foolish.

You turn on your heel, and head back down the hall. In your pocket, your phone dings with another text from Tetsuroo.

You pull it out, halfway back down the hall, and read it.

“tell me how it goes!”

He was waiting on a response.

Your blood turned to steel in your veins. You weren’t gonna be a coward about this. No. Not when it’s about something this important.

You march back down the hall, right outside Rintarous door, and give three quick knocks. As soon as it sounds out, your hand falls to your side and you’re taking in deep breaths.

There’s a bit of shuffling on the other side, and the soft patter of footsteps, before the door swings open.

There stands Rintarou in all his glory.

Sleepy eyes look at you, blinking as if he couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not. His pajamas hang loosely on his frame, and his hair is messed up but he still manages to stay so beautiful.

You cant help it.

“I love you,” you blurt out.

His lips part into a soft round ‘O’, and he still can’t quite seem to tell if he’s dreaming.

In a moment of delayed confidence, you lean forward and press your lips to his. He tastes of mint toothpaste and smells of shampoo. Exactly how you remember. Your hands reach up into his hair, curling in brunette locks as he smiles against your lips.

You pull back, cheeks flushed and giggling, “we still need to talk,” you declare, but his hand is on your waist and he’s leading you inside.

“Of course,” he says, pulling out a chair for you to sit in. You sit down as he pulls up another own for himself, looking all too comfortable in his pajamas.

You sit in silence for a second, taking in each others appearance. He must notice the way your eyebags had darkened or your skin had gotten paler. Just like how you’ve noticed how much more tired he’s been and how strained his voice has become.

“What happened?” you asked softly, looking down in your lap, “Between us, I mean…it couldn’t have just been Akaashi.”

He looks at his own lap, more so with an expression of shame. His hair hangs in front of his beautiful eyes. You want nothing more than to kiss him once again and sweep him tight into your arms.

“I didn’t want to see you upset,” he whispers weakly, “It killed me to see you so stressed, especially with me at the root of it. I thought if I left, maybe you’d be able to make up with your friend. I never meant to hurt you.”

His tone is genuine, and his eyes shine with sincerity as he looks at you. No hints of secrecy, or anything. Just admiration and regret.

“You’re so stupid,” you laugh, “both of you. I cant believe… how could have you even come to that conclusion?”

And despite it all, you’re still so unbelievably in love with him and all he stands for. All he’s done. Proud of his accomplishments, grateful for how well he treats you.

You rise from your seat, and walk in front of him. His hands come to rest on the backs of your thighs as you cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, a little cheekily, a small smile growing big on his lips.

You pretend to ponder for a moment, before sealing your decision with a sweet kiss.

<- previous | masterlist

★ - akaashi ditched the way he normally texted when apologizing

★ - after akaashi's apology, there is a one month time skip

★ - suna and akaashi never truly made up and became friends, but they're on even terms now

★ - y/n and kiyoko do end up meeting in the future, but y/n doesn't even recognize her until she says her name

★ - suna and y/n live happily ever after the end!!! LMAO

✦ - Y/N is a small business owner, offering her services not only as a designer but an at-home makeup artist and cosmetic producer as well. She's perfectly content with her small life when she's approached by the manager of the INARIZAKI band, asking for her to fill the position of backstage artist on short notice. Needing the money, and wanting the experience, Y/N agrees. Little does she know of the fatal attraction she will share with the band's lead, Suna Rintarou

taglist:

@mannaornot \ @gojoscumslut \ @sunarots \ @alienvarmint \ @tojirin \ @tkooooop \ @cheriesdear \ @shotenvinsoot \ @wolffmaiden \ @riiceandsoup \ @thebrownemo \ @vivian-555 \ @effmigentlywithachainsaw \ @rukia-uchiha-98 \ @weird0o0 \ @seiamor \ @rory-cakes \ @blue-violin \ @reveusecherie \ @hellokittylover9 \ @yourlocal-bunny \ @keniza \ @cerberuspuppy1 \ @baramii \ @kirbyscreeper \ @rioiio \ @noideawhothatis \ @ris-krispie \ @noideawhothatis \ @venusinx \ @arminseas \ @iluv-ace

[whoslaurapalmer]

it's not even like I'm living extravagantly or luxuriously or anything but it's like. well now I have to stare at the ceiling and wonder, can I keep cable television. should I bundle the internet with my phone. should I stop this service. would I save money going forward if I paid for this instead. phone calls I have to make about if I have to open my own accounts. if I rent what are my options? what can I take? I can take This but I can't take That. can I poke holes in the wall and hang clocks and posters and pictures. can I paint. what's available to me. I might be able to keep the house. I might be able to buy. I might have to rent. so little is available on my income. but that's what programs are for and my cousin's wife knows a lot about what my options are and where to start because I don't know where to start!! and she knows what I'd like so she's coming over on Friday to talk about everything

calling people to cancel my mom's upcoming appointments. wondering what I should try and sell or keep. should I return this. can I take that with me. is taking a couple puzzles considered an extravagance. it shouldn't be, BUT. where would I put This. can i take the pile of notebooks where my mom and dad wrote notes for each other to update each other about their day and family stuff because some days they didnt see each other when my dad worked weird hours. i want it because thats a piece of my life and it's them but where do i put it if i move. it's not stuff that has to be decided TODAY it's literally been just two whole entire days. but it's stuff that has to be decided soon. by the end of this month. so basically. now. I should measure things tomorrow. I should think about donating and selling and. everything.

my aunt: okay this is just my opinion but I think the house is too big for you and you'd be living alone

me: ....................I'd be living alone regardless??????

and it really isn't a lot of house. like. I'd rearrange things, I'd paint, I could, make my mom's room into a craft room, she always wanted me to have a craft room!!!!! but do I need a dining room!! and!!!!! I don't know. if I had a smaller space I could maybe have a craft section in a dining room. would I even be able to get something with a dining room. I just want something comfortable with room thats mine where i can sing and my brother can come over and do his laundry and i have space for all my things and i feel okay. but there are certain debts to be paid with the house, if i stayed and if i didnt stay. we have to handle the car too. my cousin's wife said don't rule out any options!! we'll look into it and talk about it!! and I'm glad she's being so helpful and optimistic. and I shouldn't worry about housing in particular until we really talk on Friday. but it's in my mind. of course.

I! am still holding it together okay!! There's a lot to get in order and think about and at least I know where everything is and it's, occupying. but it's also like. yes I'm doing such a good job and I'm proud of me but I'm only doing all this because my mom isn't here. my brother says something funny and I want to tell her. the guy on wheel of fortune tonight solved puzzles so wrong and I wanted to see her face when he solved wrong and hear her laugh. I want to watch dancing with the stars with her tomorrow. we didn't get to finish watching halloween wars and now all the holiday baking has started. she's not gonna find out who killed lester on only murders. I still have to go to the endocrinologist on Thursday, because it's too close to try and reschedule. I have to go to our cardiologist for my annual at the beginning of December and i have to tell him that my mom that he saw for over 30 years and was supposed to have a double appointment with me isn't here anymore. I have to see my eye doctor in January and tell her and I know she's gonna cry. i have to switch my insurance but that's also because my plan's not being offered next year so unrelated but it's another phone call. it's a payment I have to make now. it's a phone call I wanted to make with my mom so she could tell me I was doing it right. I know what questions to ask and everything but. I wanted her there. I still haven't told my sister. my mom didn't want me to say anything to her. and I respect that and I'd never talk to her again, for my own reasons, but I should tell her anyway. but now I'm the one that has the copy of her birth certificate because the little safe of all our important papers is mine now. and I'm only 80% sure she has one, so first i have to ask her boyfriend if she has one for sure. which is like. man what a pain.

but my brother and I watched some episodes of crime scene kitchen together and he really enjoyed it and that made me happy. the christmas episode of andy griffith was on tonight and it made us laugh. I put my mom and dad's wedding photo in my room and it makes me feel safe to look at it. and right now I just have to go to bed. and see what tomorrow looks like. Tuesday when my alarm goes off, the radio station I have it tuned to does one of my favorite segments. my best friend made me the BEST chocolate chip cookies in the whole world and there's still three left for dessert tomorrow. my second cousin posted a picture of like six years ago when her daughter was born and my mom held her and it made me feel all warm inside because I wasn't expecting to see a picture of my mom and she loved holding babies. my brother is still drawing the comic he's been working on. we played super mario wonder today. we really like being able to play a mario game where we're both playing at the same time and my mom was really excited when I told her that the other day. pusheen still exists. I'm here.

[lightlycareless]

Au where y/n takes her daughter to go see the barbie movie 🥺🥺🥺

Heya anon!

I'm sorry I took a while to respond, but I never forgot about this ask!

I gotta say, I was happy when I got it; I was in the middle of a trip I didn't enjoy very much, so it gave me something to look forward to when I got back home! So thank you so much for this and your patience!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

As always, here is thy chapter warnings: pure fluff, a bit of... innuendos but like slightly, almost invisible, it's Y/N and Naoya being gross with one another, like a true couple lol. And some of the topics that the Barbie movie talks about.

Without any further ado, happy reading!

It took me a while to decide whether Y/N would take her daughter to watch the Barbie movie or not, considering its PG-13 (I’m going with the idea that she’s not a teenager yet, maybe around 7-8?) and it has some topics that someone that young might not understand or become frightened by them you know? At least that’s what I thought when trying to put myself in the situation if I had a kid that would want to see the movie.

But after going through that dilemma, I’ve finally decided that Y/N would definitely take her daughter to see it, but only once she checked some things first of course!!

Let’s set a bit of context first.

I’m assuming you must know what my fixation, or major one at least, is so imma say Y/N and Naoya met during college, fell in love, got married, and after a while (not so much, they wanted a family ASAP) and had a lovely daughter named Naomi 😊

Naoya is the “breadwinner” per se, the one that works most of the time to provide his family with a good lifestyle, and that he certainly did. He initially bought a small apartment when it was still just the two of you, because in your own words, “with him at the office, and yours in your, there’s no need for that many rooms.”

That immediately changed when your pregnancy was announced. If anything, it seemed there were not enough rooms now.

“Our baby needs a room to play with her toys. But what if she wants to draw, or paint?”

“We’ll set up a room for that, that way she won’t dirty her toys.”

“And if she wants to play with her plushies? I’m afraid she’ll get hurt by the soft-hard contrast of each other!”

“We can’t take any risks; I’ll order a plush upholstered room just for that—”

“No, all the rooms! What if she accidentally trips and hits herself?!”

Of course, they didn’t follow through with that, because after sharing their plans with fellow relatives, they were quickly talked out of it. Saying that it wasn’t for the good of the baby to grow up so sheltered, and their wallets. Something that Naoya didn’t really pay attention to, eventually convinced otherwise when suggested that instead of spending money on that, it could be saved in literally anything else.

Cue the expensive, never-ending gifts from Naoya. Whatever his girls wanted, they would get—he’s the next CEO to his family’s company, it would be stupid to act like he wasn’t!

Because he’s so doting in one aspect, he’s a bit reserved in the other, at least outwardly… and a bit inwardly too since this is all new territory for him—He didn’t grow up in a loving household where words and displays of affection would be done, but Naoya is really trying his best.

He still cares for you and Naomi, of course, he just lets money do the talking for him.

But worry not, where he lacks, that’s where you step in!

Taking the role of “stay at home mom” once announced your pregnancy, you’re the one that ends up all the time with Naomi, showering her affection, reminding her how much she’s loved by the two, as well as keeping Naoya up to date when he’s away.

Wherever Naomi went, pictures needed to be taken: either posing near the ducks of her favorite garden, showing off her new acquisition (you always bought something for her, whether she asked for it or not) or just enjoying a scoop of ice cream in a hot day, or when picking her up when school—didn’t matter, it had to be shared, and Naoya appreciated all of those pictures, keeping them in a dedicated album for him to look back on to when he’s feeling particularly down, although he always ends up a bit regretful because he wishes he could be there in person.

Because of your closeness to her, you’re the first person she runs to tell of her day, or whatever crosses her mind, thus Barbie comes into your life.

Outside of the craze that seemed to taint every living thing with pink, your closeness with her is what led you to learn that Naomi wants to see the Barbie movie, which you were more than happy to oblige to as you usually did, until of course, this became the first exception.

You always liked going to the movies with her because it usually meant an amazing day out altogether. It was either going to the park first, getting something to eat later, and watching a movie at the end of the day; or anything else really, whatever Naomi felt like doing—it didn’t really matter, because going out with her was enough for you.

In fact, as soon as Naomi came to you, with her big adorable golden eyes and her even cuter smile to tell you how she wanted to see Barbie —which you were waiting for, really, it’s what everyone has been talking about after all— you immediately pulled out your phone to buy tickets… but upon seeing the rating, you stopped.

It was the first time you’d have to tell her a maybe, instead of the decisive yes she was accustomed to, making her frown and pout out of confusion.

“Oh, it’s nothing! It’s just that I remembered I had some things already planned with my friends, but I’ll let you know when we can go, ok?” you smile, gently ruffling her hair before pulling her into a tight hug and peppering her cheeks with endless kisses, only ceasing when she whined you to stop.

You’d let her be soon after, while you… well, continued to debate whether to take her to the movie or not.

After all, the whole world seemed to be in on it: the dressing in pink, greeting each other Barbie, or Ken, blasting the classic song from Aqua and singing along to it… it was only natural that your cute daughter wanted to be on it too, hell, you even the parents of her classmates being on it too!!

As days went on, and you still had to make a decision, guilt began to settle inside you for having unwittingly made Naomi feel excluded.

You attempted to mend this by changing her school supplies to all pink, decorating her hair with pink accessories—clips, ribbons, diadems, you call it, she has it— or styling her uniform with whatever was allowed to be pink. Her school actually bent the rules to comply to the children’s wants, after being… “persuaded” by the parents to do so—talk about the privileges of being in a private institution!

It didn’t take long after that before Naoya was deeply intrigued by her daughter’s newest obsession; first it was some show she watched when she was younger, then it was zebras, and now, the color pink.

Ever the one to ignore things he considered mainstream, more so when they extended beyond his realm of interest, this caught him completely off guard; even getting the point of believing he was going mad because once he saw his daughter obsess with the color, he began to see it everywhere.

It was in Naomi’s school supplies, her clothes, even bedroom, everywhere he glanced, pink was in. Sure, by that point he was really intrigued to know the reason behind this craze, but it still wasn’t enough for him to ask.

If that’s what his baby wanted to be happy, then he’ll oblige. He wasn’t like those parents that didn’t have money to subsidy their children’s interests, so he was for sure not going to act like one.

His curiosity would only get the best of him one night when laying beside you in bed.

Naoya had other plans in mind for the night, which were quickly foiled upon seeing you hyper focused on nothing but your phone, scrolling through endless and endless pages of stores, social media, and articles, all relating to the cause behind his wonder: Barbie.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he’d finally relent after minutes and minutes of being ignored, resting his head over your shoulder and draping an arm over your waist. “Surely your phone can’t be much more interesting that me.”

“No, of course not” You smirk, getting into a more comfortable position so he could see what you were looking at. “But I have to this first, or I won’t be able to sleep!”

“Is that what’s keeping you up at night?” you sigh.

“It’s Naomi—she wants to see the movie, but I don’t know if it’s the right thing.”

“What’s this?” he smirks “You? Telling her no? That’s a first.”

“And it hurts me to do it!” You pout, he kisses your cheek.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Because the movie is actually much deeper than I thought, and I don’t know if our pumpkin is ready for that.”

“What the hell can a movie about dolls talk about?” he scoffs, voicing the same thought you had when seeing the rating.

“Very interesting topics, actually.” you explain, and he raises his eyebrows. “Social topics”

“Oh”

“Yeah, and I don’t know if she’s ready for them yet” you sigh again, before turning off your phone and putting it to the side, finally allowing you to snuggle against Naoya, who didn’t hesitate to move in a way that allowed your head to rest on his chest.

“I don’t recall ever worrying about those things when I was her age, but I guess it can only go two ways” you say.

“Which are…?”

“She either learns from this or is horrified by it!” you shrill “And I don’t want to scare her! If only could know what kind of reaction she’ll have beforehand!!”

“Why don’t you watch the movie first before deciding whether to take her or not?” he suggests, and at that moment, like the sun breaking the horizon, a new opportunity opens before you.  

“That’s it! That’s exactly what I could do! And once I see it with my own eyes, I can debate whether it’s suitable for her or not” you look up to him, eyes glistening with excitement. “How about it, hm? Shall we go to the movies, like we used to back in the day?”

Naoya hesitates, for he doesn’t want to be seen watching that movie, but your pleading eyes, the same one Naomi uses when she wants something, as well as the cause behind it, gets through him, and soon finds himself complying to your demands—not like he didn’t do so anyways, but truly, you and his daughter have him wrapped around their finger.

“Alright” he murmurs with a pout. “I Guess I could clear up my schedule and go.”

You giggle, admiring how he loves to play hard to get, as if he wouldn’t drop everything for his family.

It’s quite charming, cute even, and you feel so lucky that only you can see that side of him. Although you wished he’d be a bit more open with Naomi…

“I knew I could trust you to clear up my mind” you smile, snuggling further against him. “My dear husband.”

“I’m glad I was of help, but…” he begins slowly, one of his hands sliding further and further down your body. “I know another way to clear up your mind, I can show you if you’d like.”

You bite your lower lip, face flustered as you around, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Well, we can’t be too sure.”

You end up buying tickets for a showing two the days after, the day Naoya took off to go with you—it’s one of the perks of being so high up the chain in his job, he doesn’t need to give explanations or why he’s not going to work, he can just do it and that’s it.

Doesn’t mean his co-workers won’t inquire about it, more so when his day off was in the most random of dates.

Knowing this, the two end up going to a theater of his choosing, far away from the ones he considered busy, but still up to his standards, and of course, with extra cautionary steps to avoid being followed by his pesky relatives, and subsequently recognized.

“Naoya, honey, this is too much.” You’d say when walking towards the entrance, hand-in-hand with your husband. “Don’t you think we’re… attracting too much attention like this?”

Naoya wanted to go undercover, discreetly as possible so as to avoid suspicions, although his definition of discreet greatly varied from one another.

While you decided to wear a pair of jeans, and a comfortable pink hoodie (gotta follow the trend)… Naoya decided to go full on… well, he looked good, that’s all you’re going to say.

“What? Just because we’re going undercover doesn’t mean we’re going to do it… like that” he says, referring to an unsuspecting movie-goer and their… seemingly underdressed appearance. You gently elbowed him. He groans.

“Don’t be rude” you scold. “Besides, we’re standing out too much.”

You tried to be solidary to his appearance by wearing a pair of black shades, but now that you compare yourself to literally everyone else, it looks like you’re both part of the Men in Black.

“Then what do you suggest?” he asks, rubbing his arm where it still hurts.

“Lose the glasses” you suggest with a pout. “We look like total weirdos going into a building with them…”

“Hey, you agreed to it.”

“I mean, that was before we got here. It’s not my fault I just realized how silly we look” you say, swiftly taking off your glasses and placing them on their respective case before putting them away. “There, much better—besides, you’re too handsome to be hiding behind them!”

“That’s what it was, eh?” Naoya smirks, taking off his glasses; you grab them. “You just wanted to see me.”

You blush.

“And what about it?” you look away. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out on a date just the two of us… not that I mind going out with Naomi, but… you know… it’s not the same.”

He sighs, giving you a smile before pulling your hand to his lips and kissing it. “I promise to go out more with you—just the two of us.”

Your heart flutters.

“I’d like that.”

After promises were made, you and Naoya go ahead to check in, deciding to buy popcorn and a drink—at first your husband said he didn’t want anything, saying something about a diet or so, but after getting a taste he succumbed to them immediately.

Once finding your seats and getting comfortable, the movie finally begins.

There isn’t much commentary to give at the beginning, outside of laughing at some of the silly scenes (mainly on your part, Naoya just scoffs) and how suddenly dark it gets from time to time. But outside of that, you and Naoya seem to think of the movie as… well, adequate for their daughter, nothing extraordinary, it certainly has the silliness she enjoys, making them wonder why it even got that PG-13 rating…

Until, of course, “real world” part; that’s when you and Naoya understand why many people thought this movie might be inappropriate for younger children.

There’s a lot of topics most kids don’t even fathom yet, ones that need the appropriate guidance of a caring adult, so they know how to handle them when they reach certain maturity.

It doesn’t take long before you and Naoya began to envision how confused Naomi was going to be upon seeing Barbie getting catcalled, kicked out of her house, the sudden change of behavior from the rest of the Barbie’s, and overall, the dilemma Ken has regarding his relationship with her.

But most importantly, the main point of the movie: existential crisis.

While Naomi would most definitely not understand that, or any of the past points, you and Naoya would feel the movie to be hitting “a bit too close to home” having been forced to reflect on these issues in the past as the young adults they were, either for their own individualism, careers, or their future as a couple…

Soon, they no longer worried how this would affect Naomi, but rather, how it spoke to them.

And by the time screening ended, lights turned on abruptly and revealing your and Naoya’s response to it: teary eyed, soaked cheeks, and speechless.

Your husband was quick to cover his face, putting his glasses on before anyone else got to see him in that state, whilst cursing how “there’s no respect nowadays” as he dried the tears on his cheek. You, on the other hand, simply wiped the tears out of your face, careless if anyone else saw you like that because first, it was a darn good movie, so yeah, you cried because of it. And secondly, you weren’t the only one crying in that room so who cares…

It's only until they get into the car that they realize one of the messages of the movie, at least the one they could relate to the most: their baby girl was growing.

In a few years, she’d be a teenager, bringing along all the struggles that come with such age, and then, a woman. One that will have to face the world on her own—because even if they will always be there to support her, there are some battles only she could take.

No one ever said raising a child was easy, less in a society as harsh as the one they lived in, but even with all their fears, it was something both still looked forward to. To create memories together, guide her through this difficult thing called life, and see Naomi grow into the wonderful person she was bound to become.

Getting the overwhelming need to see their daughter, you and Naoya skipped the rest of their plans and headed straight back home, where Naomi was eagerly waiting for them alongside her nanny.

The child was undeniably happy to see her parents back home, always did, but at this moment she couldn’t be anything but surprised when Naoya was the first one to rush to her, picking her up in her arms and giving her the tightest hug he could without hurting her.

“What’s wrong, papa?” Naomi would eventually ask upon feeling his hug go uncharacteristically longer than it usually does, as if him hugging her wasn’t weird on its own.

“Uh—nothing.” Naoya would say, doing his best to hide the tears in his eyes and the tremble in his voice. “Can’t I hug my princess?”

And while she’s never one to deny affection, Naomi can’t stop herself from looking at you perplexedly, as if seeking the answers of her confusion from you.

But you only reassure her with a smile, walking towards them and joining their hug. It’s then that Naomi concedes to simply accept her parent’s doting, nuzzling against Naoya as she reciprocates the hug, as much as her small arms could.

“How about we go out to eat?” Naoya suggests, looking at her with a smile. “We can go anywhere you want, pumpkin.”

Her eyes twinkle, for it’s no secret she’d been waiting for the perfect moment to suggest this place—not like she needed to, but she likes to organize her dates. You and Naoya chuckle, kissing her on the cheek, each on one side, a gesture that makes her blush out of embarrassment.

It’s safe to say that after careful consideration, both decided to take Naomi to watch Barbie, dressed up in the cutest, pinkest, most adorable outfit you could put together—with you and Naoya to match along, although more discreetly in your husband’s part, he still doesn’t get the pink trend, less when he was suddenly called Ken.

And as expected, the movie was a total success to Naomi, although there were moments where she’d look confused, but those were nothing compared to the ones where she’d laugh out loud.

Overall, it was a movie she greatly enjoyed, even with the confusions that came along: ones that both you and Naoya were prepared for, having long understood this could be the perfect opportunity to introduce to her.

She’ll understand half of it, perhaps even less than that, but it didn’t matter, for both were ready to support and guide her through every step, like the good parents they swore to be the moment her existence was announced—and that’ll never change. Even after the Barbie craze ends, when Naomi grows and no longer lives with them, they’ll never stop loving and supporting her.

Extra:

“How was your week—” Ranta freezes mid-greeting when something… peculiar catches his sight.

“What?” Naoya asks, not bothering to glance up from the paperwork he’s supposed to finish before the day ends.

“Is that—is that a pink tie?” he says, taking a closer look at the pastel pink garment contrasting against his black suit.

“Got a problem with it?” Naoya sternly responds. One subtle gesture is sufficient to have Ranta immediately retract.

“No, of course not!” he shrieks, nervously waving his hands. “It’s just— it’s just different. It looks good on you though!”

“I know” your husband groans, eyes still intently looking onto his desk… before eventually lifting his gaze towards Ranta, cheeks slightly flustered. “…I just got it; do you think Naomi will like it?”

“Huh?” Ranta blinks, Naoya frowns. “Oh, I mean, yes! I’m sure she’ll appreciate it!”

It’s a sentence that makes a smile break through Naoya’s lips as he glances back down to his work, satisfied.

“I’m glad” He match to see the look on his baby’s face once back home, after all, he just bought a bunch of clothes to match with her.

A/N: not me making Naoya cry and cover it up with his shades lol. Ah, he's truly devoted to his family.

[sout999]

dear tumblr ,,⋋(•◇•)⋌,,

thank you so much for all the support on my top surgery fundraiser, whether it's donating, reblogging or just staying patient with while i boost the link multiple times. which i am going to keep doing! it's no understatement that this is the single biggest positive thing that's happening in my life, and the time i need your help most. so i'm making my voice heard as much as i possibly can to spread the word, and i appreciate all your help with it. it makes me feel loved as a person and not as a bunch of posts on a dashboard, i've been getting pretty isolated because of mental health stuff so even the small connection we have from your act of goodwill is really meaningful to me

i've been ok, mostly putting in work on my masters degree, although some of the 'work' included having a massive breakdown from months of burnout, and i'm currently in the middle of trying to get an extension and rework a large part of my project. mostly this is due to the subject matter of my work having had a lot of loaded cultural and personal themes, which, when being forced to think about nonstop for two years, while also moving in with the family member who is the source of a large part of all the trauma of it, was just too much. taking a stance to axe the project in its current form was hard and made me feel like a quitter but now i feel relief and realize it was an act of self love as well

so i'm trying to recover from that and see a way forward to a project i would like doing, but it's hard when your circumstances have left you this depressed. i'm also trying to become more mindful of the way i use social media because when i'm anxious i fall very easily into the numbness sink of scrolling social media just to avoid thinking... i've stared a daily list of Ten Things That Happened That Day That Didn't Happen On The Internet, although i never get to ten, and i dont think even pre-internet leon would have gotten to ten, but it's good to aim high and take notice even of the little things. maybe to some people this comes naturally but i have to be very deliberate about it. i think this article sums up how im starting to feel about the internet rn

i've cut most personal spending down as much as possible to save up to my top surgery, so i have to find fun things to do that don't cost money. i'm trying to sew because my partner knows a lot about it and can teach me (i'm currently trying to engineer the perfect underwear, weird hobby but it's actually an amazing dysphoria-buster because most store bought underwear that fits my ass is so feminine, to be able to make a piece of something so intimate be so personal is, omg, an act, of, omg, self love). i've also sold off some things to help save for my top surgery and doctor visits, i'm trying to not get rid of anything i will really miss but it's also an enjoyable feeling to imagine the item disappearing as it becoming a permanent part of my history and of my sexy flat boy body (~o_o)~

if i end up having some free time outside of my masters degree, my current dream project is making pixel assets. i think with all the cases of my art getting stolen and used without permission it would actually be really cool to put something together specifically for public use. i miss kaoani and flower banners and stuff. i dont know if i can ever make something so saccharinely cute and tidy but if anything it's a nice space to visit

did you miss me coming to tumblr to make long winded posts about nothing? hopefully when twitter falls we will all be on here reading each others paragraphs, hopefully i'll have more going on in my life and can write even longer ones. here is a nice drawing, and a link to the fundraiser once again :)

https://gofund.me/958124b6

[chaerssss]

REDAMANCY

Word count:- 4.2k (approx.)

Pairings:- childhoodbestfriend!hwa x y/n

Type:- Mini series (part 1)

Genre:- Fluff, angst, romance, comedy, a hint of fake relationship. (look forward to the smut in other parts besties!)

Song reccs:- Love, Maybe (secret number), stay with me (miki matsubara), Day and night (Jung seung hwan), Some (bol4)

Seonghwa's theme:- Ditto (instrumental)

Y/n's theme:- Gone (instrumental)

FYI:- the title means, 'A love returned in full'

"I'm so bored."

"Should we go eat at a café?"

"No."

"Karaoke?"

"No."

"Arcade?"

"No."

"Comic store?"

"No."

"Wanna go jump off a building with me?"

"Yes please."

The latter chuckled at your response and shook his head. His hands shuffled through his pockets and he took out an item familiar to you. "Here, you left your scrunchie at my house. My mum found it." Your eyes go wide to finally see the scrunchie you had almost died finding yesterday, "and i thought I had lost it."

Your hands hold the scrunchie and you wear it on your wrist, as you always did. "Seonghwa's always at your service ma'am!" Seonghwa said, imitating a butler and you laughed it off. The bell rang and it was finally time to leave the school. "Ok but seriously I'm in need of food!"

"But i recommended a café before, didn't i?" Seonghwa recalled how you had rejected the proposal, "but I wanna eat rice cakes made by you!"

Your hands clutched his arm, and Seonghwa's eyes fall to your face. You looked so tiny from his perspective, but he knew if he said it, he'd get beaten up. Then came your eyes. So pretty. And so...magical. As though they casted a spell and he fell, his heart couldn't take the visual right now. So he turned his face to the other side, hoping you won't see his red face, "alright!" He mumbled.

Coming back from school was probably the best part of your day back then. Going to beaches, cafés, random karaokes. Even in the middle of the night, you were glued to the computer screen, talking to Seonghwa, while doing your homework together.

The next morning, meeting at the same river with your cycles to reach the school at the same time. It was like you were living the best days of your life. And...you took them for granted. Maybe that's why it was taken away.

Everything was planned for the future too. Your savings for your future to buy an apartment together, then getting a job for college to pay the fees. Oh and how could you forget the seperate section of money both of you collected for an exo concert.

Everyone assumed that you both were in love.

You weren't. But he was.

And so you still dread that day. Graduation. Because, all your plans had scattered before your eyes. You maintained a safe distance from him. All while, faking a smile as your principal allowed the students to throw their hats in the sky. The crowd was so loud, strange and..dark.

It felt, as though, everyone around you were in slow motion. That's when your eyes met his. Instead of those bright, round eyes, you saw sorrow in them... Regret, pain.

He glanced at you once, as if capturing this moment with his eyes. His hands untied something on his hand and he turned his back at you. You could see him wipe his tears despite his attempts to be subtle. And seconds later he disappeared. And it all went blank.

"../n?"

"...ke up!"

"y/n?"

"Y/n!!"

Your eyes open with a gasp. You lay there for a while, trying to make sens of your surroundings, until a head pops out. "You're sleeping during work hours?" Uh-oh your boss had seen you.

"Jeez, joong you gave me a scare." And you turn your head in the other direction and cover it with your arms while on the desk.

This guy. With blue hair. Was your best friend. You both met in the first year of college, both a little lost, both a little crazy. You guys had sewed together many dreams. Unsure if the future was anything like you had planned for yourself. However, fortunately.

Both of you got admitted to a fashion company in your second year. Which is pretty big for you guys because you were still inexperienced. With ups and downs you learned, and eventually you officially became permanent members of the company.

Hongjoong was dear to the previous CEO, so she promoted his position. Many other employees were so jealous and some even left the company because of the mistreatment but to you, Hongjoong deserved it. Despite being young, he had worked hard. And now the company is doing even better than it was a few years back.

"I scared you? You were practically wincing in your sleep." Your expressions dropped at his comment. "'Don't leave, don't go...' who were you dreaming of?" He leaned, raising one of his eyebrows. "No one."

He laughed aloud, which you knew very well was his sarcastic laugh, "you've got some guts to lie straight to your teeth and to 'me'!" He pointed at his chest, knowing damn well, who you were dreaming of. "I'm going to get a coffee, it's already time to go home. Take a good rest."

The walk back home wasn't long, mere 20 minutes. You decided to walk or cycle, rather than use a vehicle. One could say you were health conscious. And yet, it felt like an hour. Your eyes wander around, gazing at the dipping sun and the ducks in the lakes were swimming back.

The old couple, as usual was at the bench, never failed to make you smile. A brisk breeze makes your hair dance. Your path is decorated with brown leaves that fell from the now leaf less trees. A few get crushed under your shoes making a crunch sound, giving you a sense of satisfaction.

It was the same actually. Your hometown. Nothing had changed. And yet, something felt missing.

You bought an apartment as planned, it's well decorated, your salary is decent too, good Neighbors, a boss that's a friend as well, you have family and friend reunions from time to time. Everything was fine.

Then why?

Why did you still cry in the shower everyday?

Why did you still looked at that one picture frame for a little too long?

Why did your heart ache while watching those rom coms you once loved to watch?

Why did he still appear in your dreams?

Why, why won't your brain let you forget him?

A ring reaches your ears and pulls you from your thoughts. You put back the same photo frame, of him and you on the first day of school. He had a bowl cut and you had two silly pigtails. His cheeks were wet, he was crying, like his mother used to say...a crybaby. And you stood near him cracking the cutest pose when the kid next to you was having an existential crisis.

"Hello? Mom?"

"Oh hello honey, how are you?"

"I'm doing fine..what about you?"

"Oh me too, uh...sorry to call you at this hour but Surprise, surprise Mr and Mrs Park are here!" She exclaimed.

"...uhm, mom be specific."

"Seonghwa's mom! Well his parents are here and they wanted to meet you. After all it's been so many years. You should come by."

"...what?"

Your heart sank. You could feel it. All the other sense had been turned off. You couldn't hear a thing or what your mom said and then cut the call off, the only sound you could hear was a precise ring. It had gotten a little hard to breathe. You put the phone down and held your head with your palms.

You can't comprehend what just happened. Neither do you know why's this happening but your anxiety level had risen to a whole new level. You keep walking around your living room in your comfortable extra large hoodie, in stress.

Was it really required for you to be there? And first of all, out of all the times, they decided to greet us now? What if you just ran away? Hongjoong could help!

And for a moment you came back to your senses, your thoughts had halted and you gently sat on the edge of your sofa's arm. Your lips let out a scoff, "he still has an effect on me..." That's the funny thing. Because all those years, there was not a single spark between you and him. Well, it might've been different for him. But, at the the same time you could never imagine a day without him.

Why are you like this? What has he done to you? You stare off at the empty wall, with the spirals of your words you doodle across it with your eyes. Just like that the time flew by and you hear your house bell ring. It pulled you out of your thoughts and you open the door without thinking much into anything.

Or without predicting that the person at this hour could be none other than...Park Seonghwa. "How is my favourite person doing?"

7 years.

7 fucking years.

And these are the first words he says to you. The last thing he said to you was something you still remember. Now look at him, calling you out so nonchalantly. Yeah...look at him.

He had changed. His style had changed. Or perhaps, seeing him after so many years was so...shocking. Back then, he couldn't style clothes for himself, or tie his tie. You remember, you were the one who taught him to tie his laces in around 2nd grade.

Look at him now. He looks lovely. As if he just came out of a magazine cover. Not a blemish on his skin, brighter than the sun. His jawline had gotten so sharp, and his shoulders. Even though he wore a coat due to the chilly weather, you could see they had gotten broader. His hair a little longer, his eyes...still intense as ever.

You probably look like an idiot, standing there with your jaw open and eyes wide, staring at your childhood bestfriend. So invested in his beauty, you had forgotten to speak. So the man just made his way inside the apartment.

"Woah, so you did buy an apartment for yourself. I must say it's well decorated!" He wandered around the house, admiring each and everything while you slowly started coming back to reality.

"What....what are you doing here?" You finally spoke as you closed the door behind you. The room temperature had fell down a little due to the cool air entering through the door you had opened for a little too long. "me?" He pointed to his chest, while looking at you with his boba eyes. As if there were more than two people in the room.

"...of course you!" You said with eyebrows furrowed because what kind of a question was that? He slowly makes his way to the sofa and settles there as though it was his house? He took out an apple from the fruit basket kept on the table, "I'm a friend y/n, of course I came here to see you. It's been 7 years after all!" He took a bite and it felt like the crunch had echoed through the dead silent house.

"...just like that?" Your eyes narrowed and had visible pain in it. And his were an opposite of yours. "Oh! You should get ready, my parent's are at your house, waiting for us to arrive." His voice muffled because of the fruit. And you just followed. You don't know if he had noticed your slightly teary eyes....you didn't care.

You were still perplexed and had to sit in the same car as him. This is the best time to regret your decision of not buying a car. Plus, the whole faking the smiles among his parents and yours. But it had been such a long time, seeing aunt and uncle. All the memories came flowing like water. Her delicious mochi dessert, or how she scolded hwa when he teased you. Uncle's first car, in which he took you to all the parks known to mankind, or his annual gifts for you.

So you just hugged them and sobbed like a child. Which didn't go unnoticed by Seonghwa. It reminded him how close you guys actually were. Even your families. All those little picnics and trips. And seeing you cry like that made his heart swell...how because of him a beautiful relationship like so was about to be destroyed.

Even though you said that you could return back on your own. Both of your families insisted that you should go with Seonghwa. And that man didn't back down as well. See if it would've been any other person, you would've agreed but to think it was Seonghwa. You had to again bear the awkwardness in the car.

The entire time you were looking out the window. Trying to distract your mind, which.... didn't work as always.

"Why did you come back?" You asked, still looking outside the window. Afraid to meet his gaze. The roads were empty as it was around midnight, it was a smooth drive. Thanks to that, the awkwardness was easy to manage.

"...I was trying to avoid the question." He chuckled which made you look at him. "Well not you can't..." "i know.."

He continued, " i know, I know it's weird that I came back..and at this point of life where, you probably moved on from the past. But I'm here to tell you that..."

The car came to a pause and because of the impact you slightly moved forward, and the words that's came out of Seonghwa's mouth were enough to rethink your entire life, "reconcile our friendship."

"....why?"

He seemed taken aback by your response, "well...it seems like you certainly don't want to." Jeez, his teasing habit still hasn't changed. "No...it's not like that,..." You paused and you fixated your eyes on dashboard, instead of his eyes, "why..did you have to leave in the first place..if you were gonna come back?"

Seonghwa gave out a deep sigh, "y/n-ah..." His honey like voice, said your name. He let his head rest on the seat and a lazy smirk appeared on his face...he must've been tired. Your heart...it's beating abnormally fast. "We were kids back then...and I was the one at fault. So... consider this as an apology, for what happened during graduation."

So carefree.

Why?

If the feelings he felt were true...so true that he decided to leave. How can he be saying these things to you?...were you...the one who hadn't moved on?

"I love you..."

His words. You still remember them. His expressions... his eyes. Everything.

"So what do you say y/n?"

Maybe you were in the wrong back then...or maybe you and no idea how to respond.

"I have..since we were kids."

It was flowing back to you as he sat right in front of you, recklessly asking you to turn back to the friendship he had broken. And made you like this.

"Hm?"

So,...your emotions weren't valid now, right? Neither were your feelings...So why should you care?

"Be mine for an eternity."

Your throat had started to feel tight. You took in a gulp to eliminate the lump, "I'm willing to be friends again..."

"Woah you look terrible.." Hongjoong says as he comes by your cubicle. Of course, you do. You couldn't sleep a wink last night. "Do you wanna know the reason?" You ask him while lazily typing on the computer. "Hm, as far as I know it could not be a human, so I'm guessing, a sad movie or series?" Terrible. What a reputation you had built.

"I'm afraid this time it's the opposite." You've never seen Hongjoong throw his bun on the ground with his eyes so wide they could pop out anytime, "what...the..f-" you cover his mouth just in time. "rest in peace, Mr bun, it was not your fault."

For the next few minutes, you explain Hongjoong your entire story. The way your life quite literally changed in a night. "... that's actually crazy...and reckless. I mean I would personally call it shameless but I know that you called dibs on him so..." You crane your neck towards him, "I did not. I never told you that!"

"Well it's obvious isn't it?" He plops from the desk and stands straight in front of you, "it is weird he came back out of the blue. If I'm being honest...you should clear out the things with him." His hands come to caress your head, "i care about you...I mean I'm enough for that jerk but I don't want you to get hurt in any way. Sort it out, what you feel and what he feels."

Your bestfriend's words kept circling around your brain. Even as you walk back to your house. However, you see a familiar car in the middle of the road, a man leaning on it's door, carefully looking at his watch. His long hair,...look so fluffy, his eyes are hidden by the sunglasses but as soon as he spots you, those cheerful eyes are revealed. His hand waving to you and you walk straight to him.

"What're you doing here?"

"Here to pick you up!" He says in an exciting tone, which you find annoying because can he tone his excitement down. And yet at the same time you can't take up the fact, how adorable he is. But then, Hongjoong's words echo in your brain again. And for some reason, right now, feels like the best time to ask him the question.

"Um...I wanted to ask you something." You say, hesistent at first. "Go on..." Your hands clutch the fabric of your tote bag, "If I'm being honest, you coming back...didn't sit right for me. And..I know that you understand that it wouldn't feel good for me...might as well take some time to adjust."

Seonghwa seems to understand each and every word and he knows where this is headed. Yet, you can't catch an expression of vulnerability. Or pain.

But why were you hoping for it? Why did you want him to feel bad about a thing that happened 7 years ago? "But...I hope...your feelings for me have died down." Oh my god, you said it! Could there be a better way of saying it? Were you too harsh? A ton of questions already bombarded you.

Seonghwa starts with a light chuckle, and a bright smile gets morphed onto him, "I know...i completely get you. I think i forgot to mention but...i have a girlfriend."

....

Oh.

".. that's nice. I'm.. I'm happy for you." Maybe you were. Tch. Who were you lying to? You weren't. Your heart sank and you couldn't hear a word he said afterwards. A girlfriend huh? So you really were the only one who was still stuck in the past. You wanted to cry. You wanted to weep. And ask him why?

Couldn't he have waited just a little longer? Couldn't he have given you another chance?

Why would he?

The smell of the wet grass reaches you from the park, the gardener must be working. A few moments ago, you couldn't hear a thing and it feels as if all your five sense have been activated. And you feel a little too hot. Your palms were sweaty and your head felt all woozy.

"So, shall we go to a café hm?" His soft voice reached your ears. You just had a lot of emotions bottled up. "Seonghwa... let's go to a bar."

You wake with a sudden feeling. It is becoming a habit of yours to wake up as if you just experienced a bad dream, like the way main leads in a movie wake up. For a few seconds, you lay there... contemplating your life. Your eyes wandering around the house.

The familiar fan you always open your eyes to, the blinds still closed but the sun light pouring in from the spaces, your tv on the front that you bought with so much excitement. The same cream and white walls. Yeah, you were home.

The bed started to feel like a fluffy cloud and you just wanted to sleep again, but...your head was pounding so bad. It was almost like you felt your heartbeat in your brain. And your throat felt so dry. You slowly got up, your hands gave support to your head and you turn to the side table to have some water.

While sipping the water you notice something unfamiliar kept there, a small glass bottle. The label on it read 'hangover cure'. Hm.

Wait.

So, you drank last night. Crazy how you had forgotten everything. It was there but a blur...maybe it'll come back. Because you definitely don't remember buying a hangover drink. But oh well, you took it because your head felt like it could kill you any moment. As you're about to take a sip, your hands feel a texture different from the glass. It was paper. Your turn the bottle around to see a pink sticky note with hello kitty's doodles on it. It read 'drink this, it'll lighten the headache!! - SH'

Ah. It was Seonghwa.

You carried on with your day. Slow. Thank God it was a Saturday because what would you have done if you had to go to work today? While doing that your mind tries to recollect what happened.

"I know...i completely get you. I think i forgot to mention but...i have a girlfriend."

Couldn't he have given you another chance?

Why would he?

"Seonghwa, let's go to a bar."

"I'm familiar with this place, a few of my friends and colleagues brought me here countless times." As if on cue the bartender called out for you and you waved back at him. Seonghwa was surprised at the interaction.

Especially, the bartender's reactions. He acted all shy and soft. Well...now that he's observing him, he's not that bad looking. Tsk. That is what's bothering him right now. However, his eyes fell back at you and he admired your features.

It was all coming back to him now. All from when his mum made him talk to the girl he used to look at secretly from behind the tree in the playground. And there you were. Your hair tied in two low pigtails, with ribbons on them and tiny clips holding your baby hair.

To when you both were in highschool, eating lunch together on the bench that was near a lake, having deep late night talks on the rooftop, movie sessions at his house specifically because it felt just right according to you. Him teaching you how to cook and you ended up burning whatever you made because that could not be called food. Or how....you used to say things so nonchalantly to him. Not knowing the effect they had on him.

"I'd do anything as long as it's with you."

"The moon sent you to me."

And now you're sitting in front of him, grown beautifully into an adult, drinking like a mad woman. He chortles at the thought. His admiration for you is interrupted because of a phone call. "Y/n..i have to take this. Stay here alright?" He made sure to tell you this very carefully because you were already so drunk. "Don't leave ok? I'll be back in a few seconds.." he left only after he had heard you say ok...or more like inaudible mumbles.

But of course you weren't gonna stay on your place. He comes back to an empty chair. In attempts of finding you everywhere, he has to now push through the crowds. The club is so noisy. (It's supposed to be noisy park Seonghwa smh). His anxiety levels are rising right now, you're an adult you can take care of yourself but being drunk...you can act quite crazy.

The universe is literally screaming at this point for Seonghwa to look behind. Because you are having your own concert on the random table and are surrounded by strangers. Who... apparently are enjoying it?

As soon as he turns his head he's... perplexed. Because you're dancing seductively on a 2000s song, in your work clothes. Which was actually not that boring since you worked in the fashion department. Your white dress that reached just above your knees and a cropped pastel blue sweater on top, supporting the attire with your kneee high socks and platform heels.

You ruffle around your hair, use your hands to touch your body, feeling yourself. Not caring about the world. Looking like the main actress of a drama. Oh god, why was his heart beating so fast? His jaw was open, as if surprised but not complaining. However, as soon as his eyes go below he finds a crowd of people there.

Clearly, he wasn't the only one having fun. So disgusting these people are. Recording and gawking at a young, drunk woman. Well...not all of them. Seonghwa tried to call you down but you kept rejecting, all in your world. Until you hit a light on your forehead slightly, and came back down. Seonghwa immediately covered you with his coat, and gently rubbed your forehead.

The next thing you knew, you were outside walking around. And your drunk self being silly as usual. From screaming at the ducks for being so cute, to complaining about why bananas weren't pink. And Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh which you were offended by.

"It's not funny, it's a geniune request for the universe!!" Your voice all raspy and wobbly and so were your steps. "Why did you drink if you're such a lightweight?"

"...i don't know, I felt like it."

Yeah right. It was all just to escape from the pain of confused feelings.

"Hwa?" Your lips let out the nickname after so many years and it ignited a spark in the said man's heart. He looked at you as if...you hung the stars in the sky. "Yes y/n-ah?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?" The question got him a little off-guard but he replied anyways, "I do.." you took a deep sigh and clutched his coat that was on your shoulders even tighter, the cold wind slapping your face, it turned your nose and cheeks red, "then, do you believe in lovers that are meant to be?"

"Yes I do." He said, without taking eyes off of you. He saw you pause a little, hesistent maybe. And then you turned your gaze to him and spoke in a soft tone, "...what about... lover's who are unaware of each other's feelings..."

The wind kept picking up it's pace, you saw his hair dance, while his eyes...they looked, hurt. Why? Did you say something wrong? It was because he knew what you were hinting at. He would like to talk about it...one day, he'll make you sit and talk all about it. But finding the right time is getting harder. And he's afraid he might lose the time.

Before he opens his mouth to speak you shut him by saying it's late and we should head back. The entire car ride was so awkward. Not that it was anything new, but the drinking helped to distract you from the situation. As soon as you got out of the car, you gave him his coat back. The warmth that was taken away, you felt so dejected.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he seemed even more mesmerising than before. You just wanted to kiss him...but it'd be too spontaneous huh? His scent felt so intoxicating. While walking back a few tears fell from your eyes, you're not sure why. Seonghwa saw you wiping them....it broke his heart to see you like that, but what could he possibly do when in the first place, it was because of you, the seperation happened.

You can be quite a handful. Sitting on the beanbag, with coffee in your hand and a book on your lap. Which was just..there. because your mind was preoccupied by your last night's embarassing acts.

You felt a vibration as you were sitting on the bean bag, then your phone caught your attention. 'mum' the words shone bright on them.

"Hey honey...how was your day yesterday?" Her voice as gentle as ever. "It was...alright. I'm hungover right now by the way." To which you received a fit of laughter. Your mum had always been your biggest support, she was like a ball of sunshine wrapped in the attire of a mother. She always taught you to stay humble, grateful and a little crazy for the fun's sake. That's why you can share whatever you want with her.

"Whom did you go out with? Was it Hongjoong? Or That blind date guy, what was his name? Mountain?" She asked and you internally laughed at the 'mountain', "San mom, his name was San." A little Ah, of realisation came from the other end. "And no...I was with, Seonghwa."

As if other people weren't enough she started making teasy sounds and the 'oohs', for a fact you know her eyebrows are wiggling and she's poking the air which indirectly is you. "Mooom!" You whined trying to stop her trail of thoughts. "You know we're just friends right?"

"Of course I do...but he's a good guy no?" You rolled your eyes as if she could see you right now, "That doesn't provide as a valid reason to date him?" And your mom counter attacked with, "well, San was a nice guy too, I also teased you about him but you never gave him a chance as well."

You halted, because if it was about your relationship status, you could never win in that section with your mum. "I'm just saying....you guys have known each other since you were kids, and he's attractive too, hm?" Yeah, you would agree on that one thing. All those memories, where a number of girls had approached you just to fish out seonghwa's number or to get close to him. Oh and how could you forget the amount of gifts he recieved during valentine's day.

Thinking about it now, really makes you realize that...what you felt back then, was 'jealousy'. And not in a way that your friend was being taken away from you. But because...he was yours. It had always been Seonghwa and Y/n from the start.

"Besides, the way you two look at each other, can't just limit you to just 'friends'."

Was it really that obvious? Your lips gave out a sigh and you took another sip of your coffee. "Oh also, Seonghwa's parents are celebrating there 26th marriage anniversary, and all of us are invited."

The location was sent on your phone, you had to focus on the 'getting ready' part. On god, you never thought much about your outfits but today. Specifically today, you wanted to look the best out there. If Hongjoong was here he would've said "who are you going to impress with that dress?" While smirking and teasing the shit out of you.

But honestly,...who were you going to impress? "S-.." don't say it. You can't admit it!

The party venue was so beautiful. It was an outdoor restaurant, and filled with nature. Those trees and bushes were decorated with golden fairy lights, as you walked a bit further, all the tables were settled and flowers were hung on strings with more fairy lights that acted like a ceiling. Every table had a candle lamp. This reminded you very much of Tangled for some reason.

Your parents had already met you, in fact, even Seonghwa's parents greeted you. The only person missing was him. The party had all sorts of people, some you knew and some were absolute strangers. Amongst all, you wanted to look for him.

So restless. As though, without him you can't breathe. It just makes you question how the hell did you survive these 7 years without him? It must be funny to him too. You could've stopped him....but something about his back on you, made you feel like you weren't worth him.

A champagne flute in your hand, you were there physically but your mind was lost in the clouds of memories. Should you even be feeling this right now. As you're eyes wander around a tap on your shoulder is felt to which you turn around, "Who're you waiting for?"

Your head rotates towards the voice to find Seonghwa in a fitted white shirt, the first few buttons opened to expose his collarbones. God, you could almost outline his built, might be the lightening or the material of the shirt and he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, which for some reason was so hot? The bottoms were black, his wrist had a rolex while his neck was adorned with a gold chain. Oh yeah...he used to wear that back then too. His hair were down, and so floofy, you wanted to run your hands through them.

"Y/n?" His fingers snapped in front of you and you came back to your senses, realizing you were practically gawking at the said man. However, you weren't the only one observing. You could feel his gaze go from the top of your head to your toes. Analyzing, more like admiring the way you looked. Although, he wanted to rip of the dress right then and there that hugged your body so perfectly, he had to control himself.

The bun didn't make it any easier as well, the dresse's square neckline exposed your collarbones and he noticed that the dress had a slit as it went down showcasing one of legs. Gosh, you looked like a goddess.

"Y/n...you look, beautiful." He complimented in his soft voice, the way he looked down on you, and for some reason he leaned in even closer, your breath had started to hitch so bad. Your aura was now filled by his stimulating scent, he slouched down to meet your eyes, his eyes boring right into yours.

Somehow the whole world faded away, it was just you and him. One of his hands came up and tucked a hair strand behind your ear, from there, it went to your earlobe. He caressed it so softly, you were sure you'd fall, your knees were so weak, all because of the proximity between you guys.

"Did your earring get lost?" He whispered, and you stood there dumbfounded. "Hm?"

"Your earring."

Then it made sense to you, he was talking about one of your earrings which probably fell somewhere and you had no idea. "Oh...um...i-i.." ah yes, the classic stammering. No, honestly now you get why those main actresses reacted this way, tongue tied because apparently your mind goes blank and all you can think about right now is kissing him.

His smirk was still pasted on his face, like he enjoyed teasing you, "that's alright we'll find it." The rest of the night was beautiful. You enjoyed every second of it. Because on the dinner table your parents couldn't stop talking about your childhood stories and the same was for hwa's parents.

All the little stories, and Seonghwa's were mostly embarassing and you knew he wanted to run away. His face was so red and the wine was absolutely not the reason. Meanwhile, your laughter couldn't be stopped. You guys really stayed together for so long huh.

After a while when you got up to get ice cream, you see Seonghwa talking to a man. He seemed familiar for some reason. Just as gorgeous, but his hair were longer and he wore earrings in both his ears, and was also shorter than hwa. You decided to join them.

"Hey guys..." You started but it felt like you made a wrong decision because the atmosphere for some reason was already so tense. "Yes, her." Seonghwa said and you looked at him in confusion because now both of them were looking at you with their narrow eyes. "Wh-" and before you could speak Seonghwa interrupts, "my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" A voice from the back greeted you. How lovely.

Both of your families had heard what this man had blurted out.

Astounded. You sit in the car. Staring into space. Seonghwa sat besides you, panicking visibly. No, because if someone passed by the car they would see the most comical scene. You hear a meek, really timid call for your name and you don't even bother to look at the man. Instead you click your tongue and start screaming on top of your lungs.

"YOU IDIOT! WHAT HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?! HUH?" While throwing anything and everything you could find- which somehow included a bottle of sanitizer and a chocolate box?

"YOU ALREADY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! WHY THE HECK WOULD YOU LIE? ARE YOU CHEATING ON HER?? THIS WAS NOT THE WAY YOU WERE RAISED PARK SEONGHWA!!" nag nag, like a mom. And hwa was going through what could be described as a traumatic experience because now came your smacks and punches.

"Y/n let me explain!!" The man finally managed to say something but you hit him more before calming down. Seonghwa looked like a scared cat as he passed a water bottle to you. You glared at him and snatched the bottle, gulping it down.

"It's gonna come as a stupid excuse...but that just...slipped off my tongue." He began and you hands already found themselves in your hair, clutching them hard, "...what would you say to your girlfriend then? Why'd you take my name anyways?"

His face morphed into that of sorrow, "we...uh.." you already knew what he was going to say. "Broke up." It pained you to see him like this. You still remember vivdly, how he was so afraid to talk to other girls but some of his friends made him go on a blind date, and those girls were mean, they insulted him and he came back crying. This was 10th grade by the way. His head in your lap as you tried to calm him down.

He had always been so soft, you couldn't imagine what he would've went through in this cruel world. "We were already very distant. It always felt like we there just for the show. So last night...she finally decided to break up."

Now the stars align.

He then explained why he said that there on the spot. Apparently, Wooyoung, is one of his work rivals. He didn't want to back down in front of him, because he had taken a full 2 months vacation from his work, saying that he's getting engaged. And well, seeing Wooyoung here, he got a bit freaked out, because Wooyoung could end his career. But luckily you walked straight there, like an angel.

Yeah, more like a lamb walking into a lion's den.

"But you could've said it a little less loud... because the whole family heard...and it's going to take a lot of time to clear this misunderstanding." You began, because your families that already shipped you, were in their emotional phase right now and anything you would say could be and would be taken as a betrayal.

"Sorry..." He muttered.

Despite having a pout on your face you took your handkerchief and blew hot air on it so that it'll warm up and then used that as a heating devide on Seonghwa's forehead, "...must've hurt.."

Seonghwa watches you care for him, even though you winced more and kept asking "does it hurt?" Tch. Gosh, only if he could kiss you right now. Wait. What?

Yes, he thought that right now.

It's isn't his fault though. If one thing he has learned from his friendship with you, is that, soulmates exists. And one-sided love is true. God, he fell so hard. He can't look at anyone else like the way he looks at you. And no one, no one makes him feel the things you do. "You look like a dream..."

He says out of the blue, and you slowly move your eyes to meet his, that's when you realise you're too close. Dangerously close. "What did you say?" You whispered, too scared to speak up, as though breaking the shell both of you had created around you in a span of seconds.

"You look like a dream."

Wow, somehow you survived the situation. You're standing at your door step while Seonghwa's car is still outside the main gate, waiting for you to get inside. But you don't, you look back once again, with a grin, a little too happy for some reason and wave at him. You see him chuckle as he waved back and you got inside. You never wanted to leave but...had to.

As soon as you close the door you slide against the door, looking red like a tomato. Your palms hide your face as you squeal and giggle like a teenager in love. "I'm in trouble..."

Seonghwa thinks back at the moment, he got bold huh? But, someone honked right from behind then screamed "get a room". Yes. It was Wooyoung. He smiled at the memory, he takes off his watch and then his shirt to change into comfortable clothes that's when he realises, he forgot to return you something. His hand shuffle into the pockets of his pants.

A sigh leaves his lips, "guess this gives us another chance to meet." His palm held your earring that you had lost. He doesn't look like it but he is sneaky, he found that earring near where you stood but you were too lost in your world.

So you were Seonghwa's fake girlfriend now. And your family also believed that lie. Crazy, but now they kept teasing you for it. Something about marriage and kids and what not. You shurgged it off whenever you were on a call with them or ignored it when you were with them but secretly...you tried so hard to keep a poker face.

Even at work Hongjoong had caught you daydreaming, and he'd say "love looks good on you". If you were being honest... you've thought about it. How would it be feel to call him your one and only? To live with him? Sleep on the same bed with him....how would it feel if your feelings were reciprocated?

However deep down, anxiety rose in the pit of your stomach. The reality is not it...it's nothing like your imaginations and thoughts. He might not feel the same way at all. "might not?" A painful smile appeared on your face...he obviously doesn't. He had moved on, and you were still stuck in the past like a teenager in love. Sleepless at nights, thoughts of him lingering a little too longer in your mind, replaying moments with butterflies each time.

In a different home and setting...things were quite similar. He realised his feelings had not even decreased one per cent. He'd laugh at the fact how confident he felt when he came back from abroad, feeling 100 per cent sure his heart wouldn't pick up it's pace and your eyes wouldn't work their magic on him.

Oh boy, was he wrong?

The moment he saw you, his pupils enlarged and his jaw opened slightly to take on all your beauty. How can a person become even prettier as time passed by? The world suddenly started to seem bright with you. And it wasn't a foreign feeling at all, it was as though he'd come back home. You. Just like before, every love song was and still remains about you.

How...vile of his heart? To not let go someone who doesn't even wants him. He hated the idea of you with someone else, but he was ready to leave you as long as you were happy. But...he didn't realize it was going to be this difficult.

Basically these two idiots had no idea, both of them liked each other secretly. They were hopelessly in love with each other.

Days went by, your work routine stayed the same but you know what else changed? Your evenings. Your nights. God, all the while you just patiently waited for your job to end, in fact, some days Hongjoong would let you off the hook early.

Then you and Seonghwa would explore the town in his car. Laughing, enjoying, mocking each other, taking silly pictures. It felt like those days were back, and you weren't going to take them for granted anymore.

Just like that, a dinner happened. It was organised by Wooyoung, Hwa's rival and both of you were invited. It was actually shocking to see those two act so in love at the dinner, because Wooyoung wouldn't stop kissing Seonghwa, he was just so drunk but then Seonghwa cleared that he was like that even when he was sober.

A lot of things happened during the dinner but the real fun...was after that. You guys strolled in the parks, laughing. Even catching a young couple, sitting on the benches, experiencing love probably for the first time.

Maybe it was invasion of privacy but it was just so wholesome watching the guy on the right put his hand on the bench and the guy, shorter than the first one, on the left inch by inch hold his hand and both of them looked on opposite directions probably blushing so hard.

You turned to see Seonghwa, his body was hovering you but his gaze was fixated on the couple on the front. You guys were hiding behind a few bushes. God if he looked down at you, you really couldn't control yourself. He never looked down but...you knew he was aware of you lingering gaze on him. How you traced his face structure.

You went to the karaokes, the beach in fact, which was eerily empty and because you were a fool in love, you found it romantic. Or going to the teokkbokki stall that was now built into a restaurant, and surprisingly the owner recognised you.

"Did you go to xyz High school?" The old lady with curly hair asked and Seonghwa responded yes, with a smile. "Aigoo, no wonder I've seen you before! You used to come here after school hours right?"

"Woah you remember!" You said, amazed. "So you guys became a couple huh? Ooh, such a cute and romantic dynamic. It's always the childhood sweethearts." She said while poking her fingers at Seonghwa's shoulder who was too perplexed to even deny her. You bit back a smile, watching his cheeks glow red and his silly reactions. He hadn't changed one bit.

Then when you sat on the bench near Han river, to watch a firework show. You don't think you can hold onto the feelings you felt when you were with him. It was so fuzzy...and warm. Like home..as you always said.

This time Seonghwa spoke, while gazing at the star filled sky, his eyes were bright once again. You aren't sure what he said at the start... because you were mesmerized by his magical looks...and not just because of his face, you could see yourself kissing his soft lips, holding his face in your hands, hugging him....

"Every time we're together, I just feel so happy and fulfilled..." 'I just wish I was brave enough to say the words, but maybe you feel the same way?'

You heard him say....and a smile creeped up your lips as he looked at you. A moment later the fireworks started to explode and your attention was preoccupied by them..in various colours they piped in the dark sky. Like painting an empty canvas... that's exactly how Seonghwa made you feel.

"I love you..."

You whispered while enjoying the fireworks, knowing damn well your words were muffled due to the loud noise of those fireworks. And yet it felt so light....that you couldn't stop smiling. "Hey..." He called for you and when you looked at him, he was holding out two sparklers, that ngit you lit then and smiled like children.

'I wish I was brave enough to tell you how I truly felt...'

"Hwa!" Your knuckles knock on the door of his hotel room. He wasn't living in his old house with parents but seperately, he said he wanted to buy an apartment just like you. Which amde you chuckle.

Today, you stood in front of his door because you were finally ready to confess after a contemplation of a week. Holding a bouquet, with a blush on your face. However, Seonghwa didn't seem to respond.

"..oh the door is unlocked?" Your hands wrap around the door knob and open it up, "..is he not home?" mumbling to yourself, you took in the view the room provided. The silence was really strange and uncomfortable. Because you could hear... something.

You turned around swiftly, in hopes for finding someone...but there was no one. A sound of something falling from the left greeted you, and your anxiety was growing...you didn't want to whisper for some reason. You just followed the voice, hoping that it was Seonghwa. It lead you to the bathroom.

A sigh left your lips once you saw Seonghwa, his body turned around...and half naked? Your cheeks were red....and when he moved just a little to the left..

It was another woman.

Your heart sank to your stomach...and your eyes dropped down. Your eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly twitched. Unconsciously, you clenched on to the bouquet, not realising it had thorns, which pricked one of your fingers.

A tears drop fell and mixed with the blood from your lips because you were biting on it too hard. With a sigh, you stormed away, but on your way you slammed the door. Throwing the bouquet somewhere in the hallway, the blood had trickled down till your wrists, while your lips won't stop bleeding and your tears....they were the same.

Fuck you didn't even have a car to escape as fast you wanted to.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

.....why?

Your feet took you somewhere you knew you'd feel better, if not...you won't feel terrible like you just did a few seconds ago. Your mind kept replaying the scene like a broken casette. Once you reached the garden...you plopped on the ground and hugged your knees.

Clicking your tongue, you bow your head.."it doesn't feel that bad..."

So you said....still crying as if you had been betrayed. You felt like your world was falling apart in front of your eyes.

Everything seemed to melt away, and the ground beneath your feet was turning to dust. Your chest felt like it was caving in on you, and could feel your heart breaking in your throat.

You knew this would happen, that some day he would meet someone else, but to see it right in front of you... to see the two of them together... You just... don't know what to do with yourself anymore.

"So...I never really knew you.." you cried with your breaking voice. Maybe... you took all this for granted again...

Two weeks had passed by.

And you and Seonghwa hadn't talked since then.

Remembering your conversation with Hongjoong was just absolutely painful at this point.

"So...do you like him then?"

"I don't want to."

"But..you do?"

"I do."

Then proceeding to cry out a river. It was all so funny to you. You were the one who rejected him first anyway.

...

Did you?

Oh fuck it who even cares if I didn't or not...i never had the courage to tell him how i felt. I was so afraid..a fucking coward!

"Y/n!"

You turned around to see the same man, you wanted to avoid. Because you knew if right now you saw him...you'd break.

"Where have you been?" He came running towards you in his dress shirt, his tie loosened up, a few buttons opened. His hair still styled up, looked like he had just gotten off from his office.

He had grown up.

He came in front of you and painted while his hands were on his knees. "Wooyoung said he wanted to meet you again and it-"

"Let's stop acting like this Seonghwa." Your stern voice caught him off guard and he looked at you with a concerned look. "What?...but you agreed.."

"I did...and honestly, I'm sorry i did. I was an idiot." Your throat felt so hoarse and tight, eyes were glazed over, staring at the person in front of you.

You were trying so hard to stay calm and collected, but the tears were welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"No, no, no" you whispered to yourself, you can't break down like a child again. It was all for the best...right?"

"Did...did something happen?" His hand extended to stop you, to hold you, to embrace you...instead you took a step back, "You...have so many people that you have to meet. So many things that you have to do...I think it's best to spend them.. without me. Oh and.."

Your hand shuffle through your bag and take out a bracelet with a star charm, you remember you used to have an identical one but with an infinity charm, "here...keep this."

Seonghwa took the item in his hand, thoroughly observing it, "you...found this?"

"Mhm...I kept it when you untied it and there it in the middle of the ground." Seonghwa looked absolutely distraught. This was no what he had expected when he came back from the office, "don't keep sanitizers in your car." As though you were trying to make him realise what he had done wrong, you bitterly smiled but looked at him for the last time, "it'll remind you of us."