#good thing nothing bad ever happens to them

[salemlunaa]

Be still and know that I AM God

you don’t have to “flip” shit

if you still believe that you have to flip every thought you have, as if you’re playing whack-a-mole, smashing each doubt you have back into the ground of your mind just for it to pop back up again, putting you through a loop, you STILL don’t know who you are. Because if you’ve ever played whack-a-mole that’s how it works, you smash the mole into the ground, and what does it do? it leaves for a bit, only to pop back up again and again, whereas if you would just let the damn mole out of the hole it would probably crawl away and never come back. Just like those thoughts you try so hard to suppress.

Now why do you feel the need to fight the “negative” thoughts? you do this because you still suffer from a case of mistaken identity. You do not truly believe that you are god, you still believe that you are human, and that the ego’s thoughts are your thoughts. You still believe that life, your thoughts and feelings are things happening TO you, when it actually happens FROM AND THROUGH you.

Now what does this have to do with negative thoughts? Well it means that they aren’t really your thoughts, those are the thoughts of the ego that lives in your old story. Let them pass. There’s no point in getting mad at your ego for thinking that, that would be like getting mad at a blind person for not seeing, just pointless, the only thing you must do is let it pass.

Let’s say you have a brand new car, a mercedes maybach for example, as you are about to get into your car, someone runs up to you and screams a list of things in your face: “YOU DONT HAVE THAT CAR, WHY ARE YOU LYING TO YOURSELF”

“WHAT IF YOU NEVER GET THE CAR”

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’LL GET THAT CAR BY TOMORROW”

all while the door to your mercedes maybach is open and you’re about to get in…🧍‍♀️

are you going to run into the middle of the parking lot, completely abandoning your mercedes, just to have a panic attack?? are you going to again, abandon your mercedes to run after that person and scream back “I HAVE MY CAR, I HAVE MY CAR, I HAVE MY CAR” looking equally as crazy?? OR are you just going to decide that theyre just a crazy person, get back into your car and drive home? So in other words, are you going to abandon being calm in the new story just to “stick it” to the negative thoughts?

This is all you have to do: “wow that was crazy seeing as i have all that i want and creation is finished, good thing those aren’t MY thoughts”

As soon as you see the need to fight “your” thoughts, you have identified with them and see it as a part of you that you must get rid of. Like an inner conflict as if it’s the hyde to your jekyll. Those thoughts don’t belong to you so don’t feel the need to correct them, let them pass knowing that you are god.

༄༄༄

I’ll give you another example, Two mothers: Kelsey and Jennifer, Kelsey has a well behaved daughter, Lisa and Jennifer has a badly behaved daughter, Rona. 9 times out of 10 if a mother like Kelsey is in the store with her well behaved daughter and sees Rona kicking at her mother and swearing, she’s not going to correct the child, because the child isn’t hers. She’s going to observe the child’s behaviour only to look at her well behaved daughter, thank whatever higher power that this bad ass kid isn’t hers and keep it pushing with her shopping. See those negative thoughts as the rebel child that you’re thankful isn’t yours. Observe and let it pass, all the while being grateful for the new story.

Although i’m not religious, the biblical god never swayed in the fact that he was god even when multiple people doubted him. That’s how you need to be, the ego will doubt, but that isn’t your problem because it isn’t you!!

If you had what you wanted you wouldn’t care about those thoughts, a negative pedestal is still a pedestal, need i remind you. As pure consciousness, you should also know that everything just IS, nothing is “negative” until you label it as such.

So you’re taking the time to: 1. label those thoughts as negative and 2. decide that they are SO worthy of your attention that you need to spiral/ “flip” them. That sounds quite exhausting?

Why do you care so much? Is it because you think those thoughts are blocking you from what’s yours? But i thought creation was finished, so why would that matter? why are you going back…again?

Its like in the movies when a person is bullied, they always get the advice “don’t dignify the bullies a response”

If you know who you are why are you letting thoughts, that don’t even belong to you, waste your time, who are you proving yourself to when it’s just you here?

IF IT DON’T APPLY, LET IT FLY

[idyllwave]

30 MILLION TO 1

yandere!phainon x fem!reader | part i. π

he wanted peace, if only for just one cycle, but did he even deserve that sentiment? well, someone thought he did, at least.

word count | ~2.7k

cw | angst , death , yandere!phainon , 30 million cycles , grammatical errors , etc.

the drabble that inspired this fic.

“I’m going to check out this stellaron reading, and then I’ll be back before either of you know it!”

You had a smile on your lips as you made a quick game plan to shoot at Welt and Himeko. The two, of course, being less than thrilled to send you on your merry way.

“Y/n… we really don’t want to send you on your own.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ve been on my own before with these types of missions and I always come back a-ok! Besides Dan Heng and March are busy going to the Herta Space Station. And you two need to back them up.”

“But that will leave you with no back up-“

“We’ve been through worse. Besides, all I need to do is get the stellaron and come right back. Easy-peasy.”

Welt and Himeko looked to one another before both of them relented.

“Just…be careful,” Welt finally said.

“I always am. I’ll be back before anyone knows it!”

You waved to them as you left to your room to prepare for your hopefully short journey, and after borrowing a single train car, you were on your merry way, but like all promises that you make as a trailblazer – things never go as planned as you find yourself stranded on another planet, your communications being cut off and useless, and your transportation being rendered as a safety hazard.

“Out of all the times that I promise nothing bad is going to happen, of course something goes wrong when I don’t have any means of getting backup…,” you muttered to yourself. Whether it be good or bad fortune, you found yourself on a world you didn’t know the name of and were thankfully able to blend in with the crowd as you found the nearest city and got a change of clothes to match the people around you. And with a few quick conversations here and there you learned some key details…

They were isolated and didn’t know that space travel existed, they have these beings called titans, the world is on the brink of destruction, and there is a prophecy highlighting a group of heroes that are to save the world.

“Chrysos Heirs,” you asked, “I don’t think I ever seen one in person,” you said as a girl you were talking to giggled a littler and pointed towards the entrance of the city you were in, “see the man entering now,” she asked. You followed her pointer finger. Your gaze landing on a white haired man – but his whole appearance caused you to frown. He looked so … beaten down. Was it normal for Chrysos Heirs to look like that?

“Well, he isn’t a Chrysos Heir yet, but I hear that he will be soon! His name is Phainon and he helps out anyone and everyone!”

You watched carefully for a moment. You saw the way people crowded him as he walked forward, but it didn’t seem like he was in any shape to listen. You stood up from your spot on the bench and followed after him – the confused questions from the girl you were talking to fading in the distance.

His feet felt like heavy weighted stone, but he still managed to drag himself into the inner part of the city. People greeted him, others stopped him to ask for help. An emergency here. An emergency there. Like clockwork he could already guess what each person was after and what they wanted from him. He remembered their faces, their names, their past present and future requests. He remembered them all dying and how he wasn’t able to save anyone. Their screams as fresh on his mind as they were in the past one thousand cycles. And he was tired.

He could feel how tired he was when he got to a fountain, his body collapsing as he sat on the edge of it, head hung low as he rested his elbows on his thighs. He knew he had to try harder. That he needed to try a different approach to somehow stop all the future destruction that was going to happen, but … maybe in this one cycle…he can rest. Maybe just be elsewhere. Travel to a new place. Be someone else-

“Are you alright?”

Almost like a saving grace, someone had called out to him, but truthfully he didn’t want to reach out – he didn’t want to answer. Just for a little bit, he did not want to be asked of anything, needed for anything, or be expected of anything. So with his silence, he hoped this person would go away.

They didn’t.

Instead, they sat next to him, their arm wrapping around his shoulders as they pulled him in and he felt himself leaning into their chest. Soft and warm was the only way he could describe how this person felt right now. And before he could say anything, they had raised their other hand and gently ran their fingers through his hair. Their nails carding along his scalp. He didn’t know if he hated or liked how disarming he felt at that moment. How safe he felt. He decided to keep his eyes closed and relax in this person’s hold. While momentarily thinking of who it could be. Mydei wouldn’t be this soft, Aglaea was too stoic, Castorice is unable to touch others, Hyacine is too short, Cipher wouldn’t bother, and Anaxa doesn’t have the physique.

So why would an ordinary citizen treat him like this? Why would they even care?

When he got the courage to ask, the person started to sing a soft, quiet lullaby – their voice soothing to his ears as he relaxed again.

It wasn’t unnatural for strangers to comfort each other here, especially since the battles have been getting more frequent and even worse lately, but it just surprises him that someone would even bother to comfort him. Wasn’t there a child in need of this sort of comfort more than him? Wasn’t there someone more deserving of such care and attention? What has he even done to warrant such kindness anyway?!

“We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

For as long as he wants? He hated how his chest tightened, how his throat closed up, how his eyes stung behind his eyelids, and how tears threatened to escape from the corners of his eyes. A hero doesn’t cry. Not like this.

And just when a tear escaped, the person who was holding him had wiped it away before anyone walking past could notice. As if it didn’t even happen. They didn’t even say anything about it either. Like a hushed secret between the both of them.

It wasn’t until the sun hung high that Phainon gently pulled away and finally looked over.

3141592. The current number of which cycle he was on flashed through his mind as he looked at you. His eyes mapping out the curves of your lips, the slope of your nose, the way your eyes crinkled with a sort of soft kindness as you looked back at him.

“Feeling better?”

Your voice fit with your face perfectly.

“I- uhm”

And it definitely wasn’t normal for him to be so tongue tied either.

“I’m better, thank you…”

You gave him your name as you held out your hand to him, which he happily took. Your palm was soft – silk smooth without a single callous. When was the last time he held someone’s hand to just, well…, hold it?

“Anytime,” you said.

“Really?”

He meant the word to come out as teasing as he was trying to get his usual air of confidence back. As if trying to get the mask on again.

“Of course, anytime you need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be here.”

Out of all the cycles he’s been in, all the cycles he went through, he never met you – never even seen you before. But he was grateful for it now. This chance meeting between cycles.

“I’ll be sure to hold you to it then,” he said as he stood up while pulling you up as well as he still had your hand in his grip, “however, I would like to meet with you again, not for this reason though.”

You nodded, “I would like that Phainon. How about later this week?”

“How about tomorrow?”

Did he sound too eager?

You didn’t seem to mind as you agreed which he was very much grateful for, “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said.

“Tomorrow for sure.”

To be honest, you didn’t expect that you would be comforting someone who you had heard was a hero to the people, but you figured that even heroes need to be saved. Especially considering that when you saw him enter the city he had looked as if he had lost everything without losing anything at all. It was a look that made your heart weep. A look that reminded you of a poor kicked puppy. You wanted to make sure that that look never showed up on his face again, and all too quickly tomorrow had come, and you wondered how you would meet Phainon again. Neither of you really said where you would meet or at what time either. So you set off for that familiar fountain early in the morning. It wasn’t like you had anything else to do today anyway.

And much to your surprise, Phainon was already there waiting.

His smile seemed to light up the surrounding area as he crossed the remaining distance to meet you. There was a bounce in his step, his shoulders were squared, his posture was straight, and his whole demeanor seemed so much more lighter than yesterday. It made you smile.

“Good morning,” he sounded breathless as if he had ran to meet you.

“Good morning to you too… did you get done training or something?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he said with a laugh as he raised his hadn to scratch the back of his head, “and now that we are meeting like this … I actually have no idea what we should do from here.”

Your eyes crinkled and smile widened in a way that made his heart hit hard in his chest. You reached for his hand, and gently tugged him to follow you, “good thing I already thought up some stuff for us to do and see then, huh?”

“Y- yeah.”

Did he deserve this? Probably not. But it wasn’t going to stop him from enjoying it anyway. And he learned a lot about you in that single day. He couldn’t stop himself from memorizing every single detail. He knew he shouldn’t, but … it was difficult not to. Not when you make yourself so likable. Of course, he knew you weren’t doing it on purpose. It was just the type of person you were.

Before he could stop himself, he asked you to hangout tomorrow, and the day after, and even the day after that as well. It became a recurring cycle where he just couldn’t let you go – no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that he had to and that he didn’t deserve your kindness, care, or attention. However, soon, he stopped listening to that nagging part of his mind and had begun to latch onto you without mercy.

He followed you around like a lost puppy. Looked to you for attention and validation. Sometimes he would even ignore the pleas of others if it meant getting to you faster. You were becoming his destruction.

And he wanted to hasten the process even more. Even when the days with you turned into weeks and weeks turned into years. He didn’t let you pull away even as he became a Chrysos Heir.

Tribbie giggled behind her hand as she looked up at Phainon, “you should confess to her!”

“Huh,” Phainon snapped his head to her.

“You two aren’t getting any younger.”

“And someone else may sweep her off her feet before you do,” Castorice interjected quickly as she stood a little off to the side. Phainon huffed. Never in any of the previous cycles did he have to deal with this type of conversation. It was taking him off his game.

“Someone else… huh?”

He was confident that no one could compare to him and he knew your schedule like the back of his hand. You weren’t seeing anyone. In fact, he knew you were getting off work and heading his way right now. And there was, of course, another reason too...

“I’m sure there isn’t anyone else,” he finally said and Castorice shook her head, “you don’t know that.”

But he did. Your friends beside himself weren’t confident enough to dig up any buried feelings they might have, no one dared to come up to you when he was around, and yes there was Mydei, but the immortal man had no interest in you as far as he was aware.

“You two worry too much,” he finally said and before either of them could say anything else you had called out to him from a distance causing him to look over and smile as you raised your hand to wave at him.

“Now, if you’ll both excuse us.”

He turned back towards you and went to meet you halfway.

“Y/n!”

He smiled at you as he opened his arms and grabbed you into a hug, “how was work? Anything exciting happen? That same customer still bothering you? Did you eat? Hydrate? Need to sit down somewhere-?”

You hushed him by standing on your tippy toes and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Yeah … that was another reason why you wouldn’t go for anyone else. Phainon already took you for himself, and it took a lot in him to not turn around and give the two an ‘I told you so’ look.

“I’m fine, Phainon,” you said with a laugh against his lips before pulling away, I’m just happy to see you now. You reached for one of his hands to hold when he let you go from his hug, “now, let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”

“Of course!”

He turned to look back at Tribbie and Castorice and … as expected, the two didn’t see that kiss coming. He smirked at them and gave them a polite wave goodbye. Sure his friends didn’t know about his relationship with you, but he also wasn’t keeping it a secret either. He just- didn’t like other people seeing your cute side was all.

Anyway…, he knew you weren’t actually tired. You were only saying that so he could rest and take a breather since he has been on a few tough missions lately.

Like most days, your shared home was filled with books stacked on the coffee table in the living room, each and every title ranged from mythical tales of space travel and new worlds. He always thought it was cute how interested you were in fantasy novels like that. Though, sometimes when he looked at you, he wondered if there was more to the story. Like the clothes you keep hidden in the box under the bed. He already sifted through them and they weren’t anything like the clothing styles he was used to seeing. Then there was your phone. It was locked by a password, but he swore the home page image was of a pitch black sky littered with stars. Where you could have taken the picture couldn’t have been anywhere here. And with the way you acted to information you didn’t know about this place was also another dead giveaway and it would also explain why he never met you before.

Just thinking about how you could be from another world excited him to no end. With this theory in mind, he wondered why he didn’t see you in previous cycles … probably because you traveled to other places on this world – he was sure of it.

If the next cycle were to happen, he wondered how he could find you again. Would you be drawn to him? Remember him maybe? He hoped you would. But if you didn’t, then that was alright too. He could always find you. In fact, tracking you through the city was easy. Especially since you didn’t wander off to unknown places or mingle with shady characters. It definitely made things easier.

“You really like these books, huh?”

Like always, Phainon did try to see if he could pry the information from you gently, so he could get that little confirmation that yes you were not from this world.

“I do!”

As expected, you never did give anything away. He couldn’t be mad though. It’s not like he told you about the cycles or about his home either. He actually quite liked how you two had things right now. A simple life where he could enjoy a little peace. Though, that wasn’t going to stop him from taking even more from you in the next cycle.

“Can you read to me?”

He posed the question gently, in that sweet tone that he knew would disarm you. Not that you ever denied him before. He knew you could say no, but he liked how you never said no to him.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Pt.2 to this. I'm sick, so if it's not coherent, don't blame me

"It happened a long time ago." You say, voice soft so you don't wake Gaz. He still sleeping on your couch, wound stitched and an ice pack strapped to the side of his head. According to Price, he'd fallen when he got shot and the blow to his head knocked him out. He was breathing and his pulse was steady, so you aren't too worried. Just needs rest and some TLC and he'll be right as rain.

"I come from a family of avians. Sparrows. But I had friends that were bigger, birds of prey." You smile sadly, "we were just having fun. We were 12, weren't using our heads." You'd had two friends, a peregrine falcon hybrid and a goshhawk hybrid...odd choice of friends for someone as small and fragile as a sparrow, but you loved them all the same.

"We used to play a game where I'd fold my wings back and let myself plummet, and one of my friends would have to catch me. I didn'tget to be fast very often, and hurtling towards the earth was so much fun to my child brain. We'd done it hundreds of times before and nothing bad had ever happened. But this time..." You trail off, worrying your lip.

"But this time?" Price prompt after a moment.

"He just...grabbed me wrong. I don't remember much of it. Just that there was this awful burning sensation and then I was falling uncontrollably. The next thing I remember was waking up without my wings." You reach back, unconsciously touching the scars. "I remember waking up and my mom just shaking her head as she held my hand."

"I was devastated, you know. Flying was so freeing. I didn't know how to to exist without that part of me." You sniff, wiping at your eyes, "but I got used to it. Learned how to navigate life without my wings. The nurses that helped me wwre incredible, and i knew that that was what I wanted to do."

"I'm sorry." Price says roughly, "thats..."

"Don't pity me." You cut him off, "I'm not sad. I mean, I miss my wings. I miss flying, I miss the connection. But my life is good. I love my job, I love working with you all. It's hard, losing a part of yourself like that. But it wasn't the end of the world."

You're not ashamed of your scars. You're not ashamed of the fact that you lost your wings. Honestly, the only reason you don't tell people what happened is because you can't stand the pity.

You meet Price's eyes, trying to communicate that. And he seems to get it.

Okay im chest hurts im done for now luv yall

[mindless-existence1]

Kpop Demon Hunters

Humanized!Jinu x Manager!Reader Pt2

Summery: You and Jinu finally confess

Authors note: I pumped this out so fast omg requests are still open for anyone interested.

Also anything in italics is thoughts

Pt 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even though the two of you had promised to talk to eachother it just hadn't happened yet. The Saja Boys had a big concert coming up they were preparing for and you got really busy working on their media coverage.

So it just never came up. Not that either if you were too eager to bring it up. Everytime you were together it was awkward, and like there were words right on the tips of your tounge but left unsaid.

Both Huntrix and the Saja Boys were cringing everytime they saw the two of you interacting. A plethora of blushing and talking over eachother untill you got interrupted and forced to depart.

The girls had been pressing you about talking to him and Jinu had similar experiences with the guys. You both had decided- separately - to talk after their big preformance, funny how that works out.

Procrastination only worked for so long, suddenly it was the night fo teh concert and you and the girls were vip watching the boys preform. You had planned to meet Jinu after he finished, maybe talk in their studio or lounge area.

As the final song came to a close and the audience started making their way to the exit you made you way to the stage. The boys were already getting pampered by their helpers when you got back stage.

"Hey guys! Amazing show you killed it out there!" You praised the idols for their preformance they immediately thanked you and started having about the performance. "Couldn't have done it without you, you know."

Baby put his arm around you shoulder, giving you a side hug. "Yeah yeah your welcome." The boys began making their way to the lounge area desperate for a good long break.

You were about to walk through the door with them when jinu gently grabbed your hand stopping you. "Hey acn I talk to you?" He asked. "Oh uh yeah sure." The guys gave eachother a knowing look and walked throught the door.

Romance gave you one last look, winked, and close the door. "Dont take too long we're hungry!" The two of you heard Abby call from behind the doors. Theres were a few beats of awkward silence before either of you tried to talk.

"Y/n-" he says, "Jinu" you respond. "I uh- I need to talk to you." Jinu stumbles over his words but clears his throat. "Oh," your eyebrows raise, oh please dont be bad you repeat in your head "yeah I have something to, um, to tell you too."

heres goes nothing what's the worse thst could happen? Jinu thinks regretting it instantly, his thoughts immediately spiraling into the "worse things" that could happen. just say it Jinu common you can do this

"Y/n," Common Jinu this is it, "ever since you started being our manager I've been extremely thankful and since I've gotten to known you I started to realize something about how I felt." Heat started rising to his face with each word, his voice was wavering at the beginning but as he spoke he became more confident in himself.

"What im trying to say is, y/n I like you- a lot- and I would like to ask you out on a date." Jinu bows his head, both as a sign of respect and to hide his bright red face. When you didnt respond for a few moent he immediately thought the worst.

But then your sweet laugh cut through the silence. It was gentle and heart felt, like you were reliving a harsh load from your chest and could finally breathe. "Oh god Jinu I thought you were going to tell me you hated me or something."

Jinu looked up to see you covering your mouth fromt he laughter, you eyes slightly squinted. "Wait what?" Jinu asks confused. "When you asked to talk I got worried."

The tightening in Jinu's chest slowly started to loosen when he saw your have a look of happiness on your face opposed to disgust or rejection. "Not to be rude but you're kinda leaving me hanging here."

Jinu trys joking to fit into the light hearted atmosphere, you chuckle and he sees a blush creep up to your face (he doesnt mention it but hes glad he isnt the only one with a bright red face now). "Oh yeah, Jinu I'd love to go one a date with you."

The idols face immediately brightens, his shoulders loosen from the tension that was building on them. A genuine smile finds a way to his lips and it brightens his whole face. "Great! Oh I uh- I mean cool where would you want to go?"

"Aren't you supposed to be the one to figure that out?" You tease him crossing your arms. "Oh right uh-" you cut him off chuckling "Im joking I'm down for anything but theres is thst knew Ramen place downtown Zoey was talking about."

"Sounds great does tomorrow work-" Jinu has an eager look in his eyes but before he can finish the door behind you swings open quickly. Four idols lay on the ground atop eachother groaning in pain.

"Owwww I knew we shouldnt have been all leaning against one door." Mystery whines, "its Abbys fault hes all beefy." Baby counters. You and Jinu stand their shocked looking down at the four boys who were clearly listening in on your conversation.

"What are you guys doing!" Jinu questions his ears getting red in embarrassment. "Uh obviously laying on the ground- ow!" Jinu kneels down and flicks Baby's forehead cutting him off. "You guys are so nosey." Jinu shakes his standing back up.

"We're hungry thats what," Abby says mumbling after a second "and curious." Jinu sighs looking over at you, you were smiling and obviously holding back a laugh at the boy's antics. "Fine lets get food geez." Jinu finally says.

Sounds of excitement come from the still laying on the floor idols. They start getting up as Jinu turns back to you. "Im sorry y/n ill text you, unless you want to hang out with us?" He asks.

You wave your hand and shake your head, "no no its totally fine I told the girls I would eat dinner with them anyway I gotta get going." You say, kinda dreading your past self for making that reservation.

"Oh yeah cool, bye y/n! Ill text you about our date later!" Jinu smiles at you and waves. The boys all say their good byes and Romance gives you a knowing thumbs up as a congrats on your date.

As you walked away from the boy's room you finally process what just happened, when you step into the elevator you hear your phone chime. Its Jinu. "Ealrier you said you and something to tell me but you never did" you shake your head smiling to yourself.

"I was going to confess but you kinda beat me to it." Is all you say, when Jinu responds with "Oh" you know hes got to be blushing like the cutie he is behind the screen.

You put your phone back into your pocket and walk through the open elevator doors. All you can think is the girls are going to love this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus!!!

~~~~

"So why didnt you use the "you're my soda pop" pick up line?" Baby asks while stuffing his mouth with sushi. Jinu elbows him in his side, making him choke on his food. "Leave him alone Baby, its hard to think when your in loooove" Romance teases.

~~~~

"Tell. Us. EVERYTHING!" Zoey squeals when you get back and reveal you have a date planned. "It really wasnt that crazy-" you say but get cut off by Rumi grabbing your shoulders. "Nope none of that. Zoey get the snacks, Mira robes, y/n come with me to the couch." Rumi orders. "On it!" The girls call out rushing away.

[concretejunglefm]

♱ 𝔦 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔡𝔬 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

The show must go on . . . what it’s like for the boys to navigate a breakup with you while touring.

NOAH SEBASTIAN

Maybe it was bad timing on your part, or maybe Noah just hadn’t realised how unhappy you were—not until you chose the worst possible moment to voice it. He was content ignoring things, letting your relationship drift along as if there wasn’t a boulder-sized issue threatening to crush it at any moment.

You could go days without any real conversation, reduced to the occasional check-in that barely went beyond a quick exchange of “hi’s” and “I miss you’s.” and frankly, it was becoming lonely, being in a relationship with someone who didn’t seem like he even wanted to be in it.

Noah doesn’t say much when you break up with him. Just: “Okay, if that’s what you want.” Maybe you were foolish to expect him to fight for it, but the truth is, he doesn’t know what to do, not when he’s thousands of miles away and due on stage in minutes.

He performs like nothing is wrong. Like his chest isn’t aching or his breath isn’t catching during Just Pretend. Not enough for anyone to notice, not enough to be remarked on as anything more than emotion poured into the set, but he knows the difference. He feels it.

By the time he steps offstage, he’s completely wrecked. Too much time to think, too long to sit in it. Performing was a distraction, but it didn’t stop the way his mind kept circling back to you.

Then come the texts—one after another, a bandage of words: apologies, pleas to talk, an unraveling of every issue he knows he needs to work on. He wants to fix this. He wants to fix you and him—together. If you’ll let him.

NICK FOLIO

It happened before tour started, because you both decided it was for the best. Nick was going to be gone for months, probably wouldn’t be able to check in much, and from the very beginning, you’d agreed it wasn’t going to be anything serious.

Then why is he still checking your Instagram for updates? Watching your stories? Sending you reels that remind him of you? Why is he still telling you what city he’s in, even though you keep ignoring him?

You’re sticking to your side of the agreement. He’s the one who can’t. It’s like he’s obsessed with you—but not in a bad way. He just misses you and doesn’t know how to say it.

On stage, he’s an animal behind the drums—hitting harder, bouncing harder. He probably would’ve tripped over his own feet by now if he wasn’t always so focused, but even then, he can’t get you out of his head. He keeps convincing himself that if he tries harder, if he plays better, maybe, just maybe, you’ll reach out.

Sometimes he posts to his story hoping you’ll see it. Hoping you’ll be curious enough to check, but you never do. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of people clicking on his stories, but none of them are ever you.

NICHOLAS RUFFILO

You made a promise to love one another for the rest of your lives, but now you’re hundreds of miles apart, and you’re telling him you’re not sure if this is going to work.

It’s not exactly a breakup, but it’s not good news either.

Nicholas isn’t seen outside his hotel room or dressing room by the others, unless he’s on stage. That’s how they know it’s bad, because not even Noah can get through to him. Nicholas is avoiding him, too.

Behind closed doors, he calls you. Leaves multiple voicemails—some sweet, some just asking you to call him back. All of them tug at your heart. He only hopes you can both figure out whatever this blip is. That somehow, you can find your way back to happy.

Because you were happy once, right?

On stage, it’s easy for him to hide in the background—behind his mask, behind his hair, or with a pair of stylish sunglasses that keep people from seeing the truth, that he’s heartbroken.

JOLLY KARLSSON

It’s been weeks since you left. You flew out to visit Jolly and deliver the news—the kind that ended your relationship, and weeks later, he still misses you. He still holds onto the pieces of you he brought along and never let go of. Little reminders of what you once had, of you, because if he lets them go, it’ll feel like saying goodbye forever, and he’s not ready for that.

But show has to go on.

Even while he’s quietly pining for you, he pushes through each day, each show, like it isn’t hurting him a little more each time, especially when he glances to the side of the stage and you’re no longer there. You came out with the promise of being at a handful of shows. Instead, you made it to just one, and that same night, you ended things.

[xylatox]

how to hex a heart || kth

Taehyun fic, taehyun fic, taehyun fic!! Hehe super duper excited to read this because taehyun <3 and its rain’s writing :) 

I still no nothing about hogwarts (sue me) but I will enjoy and love it anyways.

Already love that Sunoo and mc are friends :) He is the cutest and sassiest boy ever

“Obviously it was an accident,” Taehyun cut in, voice cold and clipped, The potion dripped from his vest in sluggish streaks, soaking into the ravenclaw blue. “Next time, try looking where you're going instead of skipping around like some deranged fairy” 

I have no reason to be giggle but I cant like I love it when Tyun is so blunt and straight to the point (and maybe a little mean :3) ahh

Also her personality really is the sweetest, God bless her soul I want to protect her. I also love though that she has a bite to her

“Besides, a little Knotgrass never hurt anyone. Except maybe his ego.”

Makes me super happy to see that despite her cheeriness she’s able to bite back ugh

I fear I was Taehyun on the inside in uni😭😭BUT I SWEAR I HAD VALID REASON </3

Their dynamic is so cute despite all the tension, ugh I love them so much

“That potion was for me, actually,” he snapped. “A concentration tonic. For my study schedule. Unlike you, I don’t need to flirt my way through classes.” 

I take it back I cant be that mean😭😭😭 I just say slightly mean words when things were common sense </3

I think Taehyun’s jealously is honestly, kind of cute </3 Maybe I am just down bad (I really am) but I understand his sentiments and hers too. I much prefer having a colder demeanour opposed to the cherriness of mc but her personality isnt a problem because it isnt forced like a lot of people and shes genuinely just the sweetest thing ever

But here, under the stars, he looked… tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix.

Ah I love this :( Like, theres something so difficult about being tired that no matter how much sleep you get youre always exhausted. Its like your brain has no where else to release the energy so you just, try to fix it with sleep but it never works and just makes you more tired instead </3

Also its sososo cute she give him her Chocolate Frog which is basically her pick me up

“I hate the way you lie.” A pause. A breath.

This line took me back to Love The Way You Lie by Eminem and Rihanna and omg I feel nostalgic

“I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you.” Your breath catches in your throat. Your mouth suddenly like cotton. 

SCREAMING AND THE KISS???? Rain ugh, Im so obsessed with  your words.

It was fire meeting fire, snow melting on burning skin. His mouth met yours with all the tension of months pressed into a single, trembling heartbeat. He kissed you like he was trying to erase every insult, every rivalry, every bitter word. You kissed him like you’d been waiting for him to stop running.

Rain I swear I will love your words till the day I die

Also not Taehyun acting like nothing happened :( Thats too mean. I know hes pushing her away (for some good reason?) but ugh it hurts no :( 

The extent of his meanness breaks me so much oh my god. I feel embarrassed hello?? Like she genuinely tries so hard despite everything and hes still so cold and ugh her reaction breaks him too when he realized he went too far

“You’re always happy. You shine so damn much it hurts. And I... I’ve spent my whole life trying to be perfect, trying to be what everyone expects.

I loved this line. Theres something about trying to live up to someone else’s expectation that literally just makes things so much harder and being cold just somehow makes that easier, but mc has it so naturally so I get where Taehyun comes from. I also understand mc, and my heart just goes to her because of how sweet she is

The letter in the epilogue is so sweet oh my god😭😭 Tyun is such a tsundere and Im obsessed with it.

And somewhere between the heavens and the earth, a boy who built walls and a girl who tore them down find something far sweeter than victory. Not perfection. But something better. Home.

I cant believe Im tearing up. This was so beautiful Rain :( I genuinely love them so much. They mean so much to me, I love that mc was Taehyun’s person who tore down his walls and ugh :( wishing everyone to find this.

HOW TO HEX A HEART k.th

೨౿ ⠀  ׅ ⠀   ̇  7.5K ⸝⸝ . ‌ ׅ ⸺ word count.

pairing s𝜗𝜚 ravenclaw ! taehyun ៹ hufflepuff ! reader ᧁ; angst ˒ fantasy ˒ hogwarts au

warnings ⊹₊ ⋆ angst hogwarts au grumpy x sunshine academic rivals to lovers yearning characters are aged up set in a college like hogwarts setting ft sunoo (enhypen)

in which୨୧ ㅤִ Love was sacred, love was rare, love was fleeting...but Taehyun wanted none of it. Instead searching for a fullfilling life in the pages of texts books and viles filled with potions, your cheery personality and natural smarts did little for his ego and too much damage to his high standings in all of Hogwarts academics. He must put a stop to it...if he wished to stay on top.

★ !rain's mic is on ⋆ ͘ . chat I'm so excited!! This is apart of a collab I'm doing with my fellow writers and friends: the nine and three quarters collab. I hope ya'll enjoy. guys I actually hate how rushed this is. I'm sorry!! i wrote it ages ago for our event and it’s been siting in the drafts for a while now, i can honestly say….its not even nearly close to my best work. i wish it was better because taehyun deserve better! i’ll be writing my coraline fic soon as a redemption arc for tae, i swear by it!

The dungeon was alive with a symphony of simmering cauldrons and chattering students, the air thick with the sharp tang of fluxweed and the earthy musk of powdered root of asphodel. Candles floated above the stone tables, flickering with a lazy indifference, casting golden halos across glass vials and worn parchment. You sat hunched over your cauldron, stirring clockwise; then counterclockwise, exactly as the textbook instructed, though you liked to think you added a little flair to your technique. Beside you, Sunoo leaned over to check your progress, his face drawn in a mix of admiration and mild panic. 

“I swear mine’s more brown than bronze,” he whispered, frowning at his own mixture. 

“It’s because you’re overthinking it again,” you giggled, nudging him gently. “You have to let the potion speak to you. Feel the ingredients. Make a little magic of your own, y’know?” He rolled his eyes but smiled, accustomed to your blend of mysticism and mischief. You were sunshine in a bottle, golden, glowing, maybe a little overwhelming on days like this, but endlessly kind, brimming with a passion for the craft that made even the most monotonous ingredients feel like keys to a hidden kingdom. You adored Potions. It was alchemy and artistry, mystery and discipline, all bubbling into something beautiful. 

“Alright, ingredients table, now!” barked Professor Oakenhart from the front of the class, his robes flaring dramatically as he paced. “Step carefully. If you spill the unicorn hair again, Nott, I will make you polish the cauldrons with your tears.” You perked up immediately, hand shooting into the air before anyone else could even blink. “I’ll go!” you chimed, hopping up from your stool and bouncing toward the table with a spring in your step.

But in your unbridled enthusiasm, you didn’t see him. Kang Taehyun. Towering. Silent. Cold as the dungeons themselves and twice as sharp. He was the kind of student who didn’t just read the textbook — he memorized the footnotes, corrected the professor’s misquotes, and brewed potions with the precision of a seasoned apothecary. And he hated you. Not in the way someone hates a rainstorm or a bad meal; no, he hated you with purpose. Your effortless charm, your laughter echoing across the corridors, the way professors smiled just a little too brightly when you answered questions correctly. Worst of all, you matched him. In test scores, potion grades, practicals. You were sunshine to his storm cloud. And it infuriated him. 

So when you turned and smacked straight into his chest, your half-filled vial of brewed Knotgrass solution flying from your hand and splattering all across the front of his pristine uniform, it was more than an accident. It was an act of war. “Oh—oh my god—I didn’t see you—! I’m so sorry!” you gasped, hands fluttering uselessly in the air, unsure whether to mop it up or vanish into the floor. “It was an accident, really, I didn’t—” 

“Obviously it was an accident,” Taehyun cut in, voice cold and clipped, The potion dripped from his vest in sluggish streaks, soaking into the ravenclaw blue. “Next time, try looking where you're going instead of skipping around like some deranged fairy” You blinked, momentarily stunned by the venom in his tone.

“I—” But he was already striding off toward Professor Oakenhart, presumably to report the offense and extract his revenge in the form of docked house points or an extra essay. The silence he left in his wake felt oddly loud, like someone had extinguished the warmth in the room. You returned to your seat with what you hoped was dignity, though your cheeks burned and your heart thudded a little too loudly in your chest. Sunoo was watching you, eyes wide.

“That was brutal,” he whispered. “Are you alright?” You forced a bright smile, even though the potion fumes still clung to your nose and your pride felt a bit bruised. “Just peachy!” you chirped, plopping back onto your stool and picking up your ladle. “Besides, a little Knotgrass never hurt anyone. Except maybe his ego.”

Sunoo snorted into his sleeve. Somewhere behind you, you swore you could feel Taehyun’s glare like a knife to your spine. 

Professor Oakenhart clapped his hands for silence, the crystalline ting-ting-ting of his silver rings against his wand echoing through the vaulted stone. Bubbling cauldrons fell obediently to a hush, the once-lively chatter collapsing into a hush so complete you could hear the delicate pop of fluxweed bladders bursting in the brew. Oakenhart let the hush linger, he enjoyed suspense the way a sphinx savors riddles; before letting his voice pour down like cold mountain water. 

“Next year’s class prefect,” he announced, letting the words hang, “will be chosen in three weeks’ time. The badge will go”, his dark eyes skimmed the room, “to the student who best embodies the virtues that keep this ancient castle alive: scholarly excellence, unwavering helpfulness, and the kind of leadership that does not require howling at those beneath you.” His gaze flicked, ever so briefly, toward the Ravenclaw benches, then to you in your Hufflepuff yellow, where you sat up straighter on reflex. A hush of anticipation prickled through the air, sparking like powdered moonstone hitting hot embers. 

It took no more than a heartbeat for both your hands and Taehyun’s to shoot skyward, mirror images of ambition in two very different skins. Your arm rose with sunshine optimism, sleeve fluttering like a pennant above a castle tower; Taehyun’s lifted with predatory precision, elbow locked, fingers slicing the air as if claiming rightful territory. Two comets on intersecting orbits. “Questions?” Oakenhart invited, his thin smile hinting that questions were only respectable if they tasted of genuine curiosity and not vanity.

Taehyun noticed you first, noticed the way your fingertips wiggled for attention as though determined to catch falling starlight, and a quiet scuff of disapproval hissed past his teeth. “Little miss perfect,” he muttered under his breath, the phrase delivered like a curse brewed from nettle and spite. But the professor’s nod landed on you, not him. You stood, straightening your robes with a soft brush of palms, and the dungeon’s torchlight caught the hopeful glimmer in your eyes. “Professor,” you began, voice warm as summer rain, “will academic collaboration — tutoring students outside one’s own house, for example; count toward the leadership criterion, or is it measured strictly by individual achievement?” The question sailed across the room, thoughtful and earnest, carrying the faint scent of cinnamon from the potion still clinging to your cuffs. 

Taehyun’s scoff was immediate, a low, velvety sound of contempt. “It’s hardly rocket science,” he drawled, loud enough for the nearest cauldrons to tremble. “Prefects inspire excellence, they don’t spoon-feed it. Obviously individual performance weighs heaviest.” His sarcasm slithered through the air like a smoky serpent, confident that everyone would see the answer as plain as daylight. 

Instead of bristling, you turned to him with the brightness of a heliotrope bending toward dawn. You dipped your head, just a fraction and let a beatific smile unfurl, soft and sincere. “Thank you, Taehyun,” you replied, voice edged with honeyed cordiality. “But I find that shining your light helps others see where they’re going, and what’s leadership if not lighting the path?” Your gentle retort glimmered with the audacity of grace, and the dungeon seemed to flicker brighter for a heartbeat. The sight of your tilted head and unconquerable optimism struck Taehyun like a spell gone awry. A low, involuntary snarl rasped from his throat, a feral sound quickly smothered behind a pursed line of lips, but not before you caught it, not before half the class saw the flash of winter in his eyes. The tension between you twanged like a harp string wound too tight: one pluck away from music, one tug away from breaking.  

Professor Oakenhart cleared his throat, once, sharply, expelling the storm before it could fully gather. “An astute question, Miss, Yes, mentorship and cross-house assistance will be tallied.” He inclined his head toward you with a hint of approval, then pivoted to Taehyun. “Mr. Kang, if you have a different inquiry, do raise your hand properly rather than providing commentary mid-air.” A ripple of muted laughter swept the benches, but your gaze held steady on Taehyun’s. Where his irises turned to flint, yours softened to amber, and in that quiet, smoldering stalemate something unspoken sparked, an ember that might turn to wildfire or to warmth, given time and care. For now, though, it merely glowed, pulsing in the shadowed dungeon like a promise you both refused to name. 

Sunoo nudged your elbow the moment you sat, wide-eyed and whispering, “I think you just poked a Hungarian Horntail.” You responded with an easy grin, quill poised to continue your notes. “Better a Horntail awake,” you murmured, “than a dragon who never learns how bright fire can be.” Across the aisle, Taehyun pressed a palm flat to the cool desk, steadying himself against the tremor of unfamiliar emotion. His quill scratched furious strokes into his parchment; ink as dark as midnight vows, but beneath that practiced scowl, a new question brewed in secret: How does one extinguish sunshine…without first stepping into its light? 

After the classroom became a quiet hush, everyone working silently alongside their partners, Professor Oakenheart instructs Taehyun and yourself to rise and follow him to his desk. “You will both report to the potion storeroom tonight. Seven o’clock. No excuses. And no magic.” He says with a sigh. “I cannot have students arguing in class, it’s unsavory.” 

“Yes, Mr. Oakenheart.” You say with the downward tilt of your head. Taehyun didn’t say a word. His robes still glistened from your accidental splash, the potion drying in uneven patches across his sleeve. He glanced at you once, briefly, with all the warmth of a midwinter frost, then turned away. 

You walk back to your seat next to Sunoo solemnly, sitting down next to him silently. Sunoo whispered, “You’re cursed,” under his breath as you sat back down. You grinned and whispered back, “Just peachy.” 

–

Seven o’clock arrived like a tolling bell, and the potion storeroom, usually locked, usually silent, opened with a low groan as Professor Oakenhart wordlessly ushered you both inside. The room was narrow and cluttered, lit by a handful of enchanted lanterns that hovered in lazy loops, casting golden light onto rows of old wooden shelves. Vials of powdered roots and dried wings lined the walls, their labels yellowed and curling at the edges. The air was rich with the scent of earth and time; rosehips, wolfsbane, peppermint, and mildew. “You’ll sort and organize all of this,” the professor said, gesturing to a chaotic pile of unbottled ingredients and stained glassware stacked across the center table. “Without the use of wands. You leave when it’s done.” 

Then he left, the heavy door clicking shut behind him with an ominous finality. You turned to Taehyun with a sheepish smile. “Well… could be worse.”

Taehyun didn’t even glance at you. “Could be over faster if you stopped talking.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, grabbing a jar of shriveled billywig stingers. “You act like I spilled that potion on purpose.”

“You didn’t not spill it,” he muttered, picking through a box of dried dittany leaves with the care of a jeweler inspecting glass. “You’re always fluttering around like a butterfly with no sense of direction. No wonder you can’t stay upright.” You rolled your eyes and tossed your hair back defiantly. “You’re so dramatic. One splash of Dreamless Sleep on your sleeve and you act like I’ve ruined your career.”

“That potion was for me, actually,” he snapped. “A concentration tonic. For my study schedule. Unlike you, I don’t need to flirt my way through classes.” The words hit like a slap; sharp, misplaced, and far too personal. 

You blinked. “I wasn’t flirting, Taehyun.” He didn’t reply. Just turned, his fingers tight around the neck of a decanter filled with bluebell essence. The silence stretched long and brittle. You turned back to the shelves, trying to focus on alphabetizing vials instead of the heat rising to your cheeks. You hated that he could twist your sunshine into something shallow. You hated that it hurt a little, even if you knew better. It was when you were climbing a rickety step stool to reach a jar of flobberworm mucus that it happened, your foot caught on a crooked rung, and the world tilted sharply. You yelped, arms flailing for balance, but gravity was faster. 

And Taehyun; curse him, was there. He caught you by the waist in a startled breath, your chest nearly colliding with his, both of you frozen in a strange, suspended heartbeat. For one unbearable second, the air was different. He smelled like cloves and parchment and the faint memory of apples. His hands were warm through the fabric of your robes. Your face was tilted up to his, and his jaw tightened like he was holding back a thought that tasted too much like truth. Then he let go. 

You stumbled back with a startled gasp, catching yourself against a shelf just in time to stop an entire row of beetle eyes from toppling to the floor. “You—!” you started.

“I’m not your babysitter,” he snapped, brushing his hands down his robes like your presence had scorched him. “You’re so dramatic,” you said again, this time with venom. “One second you’re catching me, the next you act like I’ve hexed you.”

“And you’re unbearable,” he bit out, his voice low and dangerous. “Always smiling, always talking, always pretending the world is sugar and stars. It’s exhausting.” You stared at him, chest heaving, the light from the lanterns catching the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the irritated furrow in his brow. But underneath all that anger; buried like a secret, was something else.

You exhaled slowly. “Maybe it’s not pretend.” Taehyun said nothing. Just turned back to his work, jaw clenched, knuckles white where they gripped a jar of valerian root. 

You returned to the pile of unsorted ingredients with a huff, brushing the dust from your skirt and refusing to meet his eyes. The silence between you wasn’t peaceful, it was brittle, strained, the kind of silence that creaked like a staircase in an old manor, aching to be broken. Taehyun was the one who cracked first. “Maybe if you focused half as much on your work as you do on being liked, you wouldn’t be in detention.”

You turned sharply, a vial of crushed lovage seeds in one hand. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, I did. I’m just stunned you think being liked is a flaw.”

He scoffed, not looking up from the set of empty phials he was aligning by size. “Popularity isn’t the same as talent.”

“And coldness isn’t the same as intelligence,” you snapped. “Just because you glare through every lecture doesn’t make you smarter than everyone else.” He finally turned to face you, eyes flashing like lightning behind stormcloud lashes. “I’m not cold. I’m focused. There’s a difference.”

You stepped closer, your arms crossed now, potion dust glittering faintly on your sleeves like constellation flecks. “You’re so scared someone else might outshine you that you treat everyone like competition.” 

“No one has outshined me,” he replied, voice like steel. “Until you.” 

The silence that followed was a strange one. Thicker. Quieter. Like the world had taken a step back to let those words hang between you — taunting, trembling, true. You blinked. “What?”

He looked away too fast. “Forget it.”

“No, you said—” You took a step closer, your heart thudding, not from the argument, but from the accidental confession strung beneath it. “You said until me. You think I’ve outshined you?” 

“I think you’re exhausting,” he muttered, back to organizing now with unnecessary force, placing bottles like they’d offended him personally. “You breeze through everything like it’s easy. People like you. Professors praise you. And somehow, despite all your little smiles and your sunshine-and-daisies attitude, you’re still top of the class.” You stared at him, stunned. “You think I haven’t worked for this?”

“I think you’ve never needed to work as hard,” he hissed, not cruel but bitter, like it was a wound he’d carried for too long. “You show up and everyone adores you. I have to fight for everything.”

Your voice softened. “That’s not my fault, Taehyun.” He paused, a jar of dried mint frozen in his hand.

“No,” he said, after a breath. “It’s not. But it still feels like I’m running a race you get to skip the hurdles for.” You didn’t know what to say to that. The space between you wasn’t so wide now. Just one potion-stained table and a pile of unsaid things.

“I don’t try to make you feel that way,” you said, quieter now. “I just… I like being here. I like learning. I like this world. It’s not about beating you.” Taehyun exhaled, slowly. “It’s always been about beating me.” You looked at him then; really looked. The precision of his posture. The tension in his shoulders. The fury not just with you, but with himself. With his need to win. And buried beneath that, the fear of what it might mean to lose to someone like you.

“Maybe,” you said gently, “it doesn’t have to be a race.” He looked up, and for the first time, he didn’t seem angry. Just tired. And quietly, painfully aware of you in a way that went far deeper than rivalry ever could. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said, but his voice had lost its edge.

You tilted your head and smiled; not mockingly, but softly. “Maybe I would.” He didn’t smile back.

–

The sky was ink-blue, bruised with stars. The Astronomy Tower stood quiet, wind whispering through the slits in the stone as if the castle itself was holding its breath. The hour was late enough that most students had turned in, their dormitories dim with drowsy candlelight and dreams. But you couldn’t sleep. Something in the air tonight felt unsettled. Heavy. Like the prelude to a storm, but not one outside. 

A strange instinct tugged at you; soft and insistent. So you wandered, slippers padding across stone, drawn not by sound but by silence. You found him there. Taehyun. Perched on the low ledge of the Astronomy Tower with his knees pulled up and his arms resting on them, his robes dark against the greystone, face upturned toward a sky he didn’t seem to be seeing. There was something wrong in the stillness of him.

He was always sharp in class, always stiff with pride, always holding himself like a blade; ready to cut, ready to be cut. But here, under the stars, he looked… tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix. The kind that came from being measured too often. From being whittled down into something small and perfect and hollow. You approached gently, your footsteps careful. He didn’t look at you, didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just kept his gaze fixed forward, eyes unreadable, expression carved from stone.

But you saw the parchment clutched in one hand, wrinkled and shaking slightly in the wind. You didn’t ask what it said. You didn’t need to. The way his shoulders curled inward, the way his mouth pressed into a thin, unfeeling line; it told you enough. So you sat beside him. You didn’t speak. Didn’t press. Just opened your satchel and wordlessly held out a Chocolate Frog, your last one. You kept it for exam days and rainy Sundays, but tonight, it felt like he needed it more than you. For a second, he didn’t move. Then, without looking at you, he took it. His fingers brushed yours. Cold. Tense. But real.

You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease. You just sat beside him in silence, letting the stars be the only witnesses. Letting the wind pass between you like breath. Letting kindness be quiet and simple and soft. And when you left, he still hadn’t spoken. Still hadn’t looked at you. But the Chocolate Frog wrapper sat folded neatly on the ledge when you returned the next day.

The next morning in Potions, everything feels almost normal. Almost. You and Sunoo arrive late, breathless from a stairwell that decided halfway through to rotate in the wrong direction. Professor Oakenhart levels you both with a tired glare, but waves you in without comment. You settle into your seat and reach for your ingredients; belladonna, porcupine quills, armadillo bile, your fingers moving on instinct while your mind drifts elsewhere.

To the Astronomy Tower. To the letter he never spoke of. To the way he never thanked you. To the way you hadn’t needed him to. It happens so fast you barely register it. A soft pop. A hiss. The sharp crack of glass. And then, boom. Your cauldron erupts in a bloom of green smoke and sparks, a chemical chaos that splashes up in a hot rush of steam and acrid potion. You flinch, arms flying up to protect your face, heart hammering in your throat. But nothing touches you.

Because in the heartbeat before the blast, a shield spell snaps into place; silver and curved like a falling star, held firm by a voice you know too well. “Protego.” When the smoke clears, you’re blinking through tears, more from shock than anything and coughing through the haze. Your cauldron is scorched, bubbling like a wounded beast, and Sunoo is somewhere under the table muttering prayers. 

But all you can see is Taehyun. Standing across the aisle. His wand still raised. His hair mussed slightly from the force of the blast. His robes dusted with soot and powdered nettle. He says nothing. Just looks at you for one long, unreadable moment. Then lowers his wand, turns on his heel, and walks back to his seat like nothing happened. You stare after him, stunned. Because it wasn’t like him to help. It wasn’t like him to notice. But he had. And something in your chest warms like sunlight over frost. 

The Professor grumbles something about careless brewing, assigns a week’s worth of clean-up duties, and moves on. But you don’t care. You’re still staring at the back of Taehyun’s head, and the words you didn’t say last night echo louder now than ever: Maybe it doesn’t have to be a race.

– 

Snow had draped itself over the castle like a dream.

Hogwarts shimmered under winter’s enchantment, its towers crowned with frost, its courtyards glowing gold with fairy lights. Students bustled about in robes lined with velvet, their laughter rising with each breath like smoke into the star-splattered sky. Tonight wasn’t the Yule Ball, not exactly, it was something smaller, softer. A midwinter celebration organized by the Prefects and Professors: music in the Great Hall, warm drinks passed from student to student, and the magic of December clinging to every flickering candle. You arrived with Sunoo, cheeks flushed, hair kissed with snow. Laughter danced on your lips before you even crossed the threshold, Sunoo telling a joke that made your sides ache, your friends gathering around like stars drawn to your gravity. You were radiant in your winter robes, something golden in your grin. You loved nights like this. Nights full of warmth and wonder. Nights where the world felt like it belonged to you.

He was already there. Taehyun stood on the far edge of the room, near the refreshment table but untouched by it. Alone. Always alone. His Ravenclaw blue scarf hung loose around his neck, frost still clinging to the hems of his sleeves, and his expression unreadable, carved from cool stone.You didn’t notice him at first. Not really. Not until someone asked you to dance.

It was a boy from Gryffindor, tall, smiling, a little shy. He offered you his hand and you, ever the sun, said yes without hesitation. Your friends cheered. Sunoo nudged you playfully. And soon, the two of you were spinning between floating candles, the music lifting your steps, your laughter like honey and light. Taehyun noticed. He noticed the way your head tipped back when you laughed. The way your hands fit so easily into someone else’s. The way you looked, joyful, unguarded, lovely, and not at all like the girl who once gave him her last Chocolate Frog in silence.

He didn’t stay. He turned before he could think better of it, his footsteps soundless on the marble. The corridor outside the Great Hall was quiet, save for the distant hum of music and the soft hush of falling snow through an open window. He didn’t know why he left. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t have the words for it. He just knew he hated watching someone else hold your smile. So he left. And you followed. 

You found him near the foot of the grand staircase, his back to you, the golden candlelight brushing against his shoulders, setting soft fire to the edges of his silhouette. “Taehyun.”

He didn’t turn. You stepped closer. “You left early.” 

“I wasn’t enjoying myself.”

“Why not?”

A beat. Then: “You looked like you were.”

There was something sharp in the way he said it. Something jealous. Something that trembled beneath the surface, unwilling to admit what it truly was. You folded your arms. “So you were watching me.” He turned to you then, slowly. His expression unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes were thunderclouds.

“You always want people to look at you,” he said, low and quiet. “So don’t act surprised when they do.”

Your breath caught, more from the venom than the words themselves. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you always have to be seen, don’t you? Always the center of the room. Always dancing, laughing, shining — like you need everyone’s attention to survive.” You flinched. But you stood your ground. “And you push everyone away because you’re afraid they’ll see something you’re hiding.”

“Better than parading around like you have nothing to hide.”

“At least I’m not cruel about it.” You quip back, hurt. 

“Oh?” he snapped. “You think I’m cruel because I don’t fawn over your every word? Because I don’t melt under your smiles like everyone else does?”

“No,” you said, stepping closer now, your voice trembling not with fear but with fury. “I think you’re cruel because you can’t stand that someone else might be your equal.” His jaw clenched.

“And because you’re angry,” you whispered, “that I make you feel something you can’t control.” Silence. Thick, aching silence. 

“You’re insufferable,” he breathed.

“And you’re impossible.”

“I hate the way you laugh.”

“I hate the way you lie.” A pause. A breath.

“I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you.” Your breath catches in your throat. Your mouth suddenly like cotton. 

Then, like a flicker of a flame Taehyun was kissing you. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire meeting fire, snow melting on burning skin. His mouth met yours with all the tension of months pressed into a single, trembling heartbeat. He kissed you like he was trying to erase every insult, every rivalry, every bitter word. You kissed him like you’d been waiting for him to stop running. When you pulled apart, breathless, your hands still clutched his robes. He stared at you, stunned. Like he hadn’t meant to do it. Like he wanted to do it again.

You smirked, the corner of your mouth curling just so. “Still hate me?”

His lips twitched. “More than ever.” But his voice was hoarse. And his fingers didn’t let go.

Morning broke cold and silver, the kind of pale light that softened the snow but sharpened the air. In the Great Hall, everything looked the same. Students chattered over toast and pumpkin juice, scarves half-tangled around their necks, steam curling from mugs like the remnants of dreams. The enchanted ceiling swirled with drifting snowflakes and a pale winter sky. But something was off-kilter in the space around you. Something missing You scanned the tables without thinking, eyes flickering past familiar faces. Sunoo noticed, you could feel his gaze as you forced a too-bright smile, buttered your toast with robotic precision.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, voice soft, careful.

You shrugged, looking down at your plate. “Nothing.” But your hands trembled. And Taehyun wasn’t at his usual place near the end of the Ravenclaw table. Not that you were watching. Not that you were waiting. But still. You saw him again outside the library, later that morning. His robes were immaculate as always, scarf draped neatly over one shoulder, a book in his hand he wasn’t reading. You approached him cautiously, your heart fluttering like a sparrow trapped in your ribs. 

“Taehyun,” you said, gently, like the name itself might break if you spoke it too loud. His eyes flicked up. Cold. Unbothered. Your smile faltered. 

“Can we talk?” you asked, hands twisting in the hem of your sweater.

“No.” Just like that. Clipped. Sharp.

You blinked. “What?” 

“I said no.” Something inside you shrank, just a little. “Taehyun… what happened last night—”

“Was a mistake.” The words hit like a slap. You felt the breath leave your lungs, staggered by the sudden, cruel distance of him. “You kissed me,” you said, voice small, cracking. “You said—” 

“I got caught up in the moment.” His tone was flat, practiced. Like he’d already rehearsed these lines. Like he’d spent the whole night scrubbing every softness out of himself. “It didn’t mean anything.” The world tilted. Your lips parted, your voice caught in your throat. You could feel the sting building in your chest, behind your eyes. He didn’t look at you, wouldn’t. His gaze stayed fixed on the spines of books he wasn’t reading, as if pretending you weren’t there would erase what happened.

“I thought you—” You bit your lip, hard. Swallowed. “I thought you cared.”

“I don’t.” It was brutal, how easy he made it sound. And that was what broke you.

You turned before he could see the tears spill, before your voice could crumble entirely. You ran, not caring who saw, not caring where you were going, just needing to escape the weight of that hallway, of his voice still echoing inside you like the last note of a song gone wrong. Snow flurried around you as you burst outside, not feeling the cold through the heat in your cheeks. The castle loomed behind you, windows glowing warm with light you couldn’t bear to be near.

You collapsed beneath the shadow of a tree near the lake, the frost crunching beneath your knees, and let yourself cry. Quietly, messily. Like the sky had fallen only for you. You hated how much you’d hoped. Hated that one kiss had unraveled you. Hated that even now, even with his cruelty still ringing in your ears… You still wanted to believe he didn’t mean it.

The next morning came like a betrayal. Sunlight poured through the dormitory windows, golden and gentle, but it felt wrong against your skin. The castle still breathed with its usual rhythm, owls cooing in the distance, portraits murmuring, fireplaces crackling softly, but none of it reached you. It was as though something inside you had gone still. Quiet in a way that even your cheer couldn’t touch. You sat beside Sunoo in the Great Hall, picking at your breakfast with no real interest. Your usual glow was gone, dulled into something shadowed and quiet.

Sunoo nudged you gently with his shoulder. “You didn’t say much last night.” You didn’t meet his eyes. “There wasn’t much to say.”

He watched you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “This is about Taehyun, isn’t it?” Your fingers curled tighter around your spoon.

“We kissed, ” you whispered, barely audible. “And then he said it was a mistake.”

Sunoo’s brows lifted, and then quickly drew together in concern. “What?” 

“I thought it meant something,” you said, voice cracking. “But he shut me out. Said it didn’t mean anything. Like I was just… a moment to him. A mistake to be scrubbed out.”

Sunoo’s expression darkened. “What a bloody idiot.” You gave a weak laugh, one that didn’t reach your eyes. He reached across the table and covered your hand with his. “Look, I know you like to see the good in everyone, even in jerks who don’t deserve it, but maybe it’s time you started putting that heart of yours somewhere safer. Someone who’ll actually protect it.”

You nodded, lips pressed tight. “You’re right.” But the ache didn’t lift. Later that day, you filed into Potions class with the rest of the students, your bag slung over one shoulder. The scent of crushed herbs and simmering roots clung thick to the dungeon air. You walked with your head high, shoulders back, smile forced into place like armor. He was already seated when you walked in. Taehyun.

Sitting at his usual spot near the front, posture rigid, jaw tight. His fingers tapped soundlessly against his textbook. He didn’t look up when you entered. Didn’t so much as flinch. But you felt the chill in the room anyway, the weight of all that was unspoken crackling between you like a live wire. Still, you were you. Still sunshine, even with cracks in your light. You walked over, careful steps echoing softly, and perched on the edge of the desk beside his. “Hi, Taehyun,” you said, your voice light, as if your heart wasn’t twisting. “I was wondering if you finished the reading for today. The part about powdered asphodel, wasn’t that fascinating? I thought—”

“Can you just shut up for once?” His voice cut through the room like a blade. The entire class went still. You froze. “I’m trying to concentrate,” he said, still not looking at you. “And I don’t need your insipid, cheery commentary. Merlin knows it’s exhausting enough seeing you parade around like everyone’s personal ray of sunshine.” 

A few people snorted with laughter. Someone whispered behind their hand. You felt every eye in the room swing toward you, your face, your smile, your frozen stance. And Taehyun finally looked up, and his expression was cold, clipped, composed. But your world cracked. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. You looked around, saw the amusement on their faces, the mockery, the disbelief that anyone as soft as you could’ve tried to reach someone as sharp-edged as him. And then your gaze landed back on Taehyun.

“All I’ve done,” you said, voice trembling, “is try to be nice to you. To care for you. Even when you were cruel. Even when you didn’t deserve it.” He said nothing. Your voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’m done.”

You didn’t wait for his reaction. Didn’t want to see if there was even a flicker of regret in those storm-grey eyes. You turned on your heel, your shoes tapping hard against the stone, and fled the classroom. Again. But this time… you didn’t cry. This time, your chest burned with something else. This time, you were done being soft for someone who only knew how to bruise.

Taehyun sat frozen in the aftermath. The laughter had faded. The stares had drifted away. But the silence that followed your exit rang louder than anything else in the room. He stared at the empty space where you’d stood, chest hollow and knotted, something sour rising in his throat. The words he’d thrown at you echoed back in his ears; sharp, venom-laced things forged in fear, insecurity, and pride. And regret, thick and immediate, curled in his gut like poison. “Taehyun?” the professor called. But he didn’t answer. He stood up abruptly, chair scraping back, and bolted.

His shoes struck stone as he ran through the corridor, breath tight, wand forgotten. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to find you. That he had to. His heart beat painfully against his ribs. The hallways blurred past him, students turned their heads as he passed, but he didn’t stop. He found you in the greenhouses, your favorite place, tucked behind the castle where the air smelled of earth and mint, where your emotions could breathe. You stood alone beneath the arching glass dome, surrounded by sleeping winter blooms. The late afternoon light spilled through the frosted windows in ribbons of gold. You had your arms crossed, head bowed, lips pressed tightly together. When you heard the door open, you stiffened.

“What do you want?” you said, voice hoarse, but strong.

Taehyun’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry.”

You laughed, bitter and soft. “You’re always sorry.”

“I know.” He took a step closer. “I know I keep ruining things. I know I keep hurting you. But I don’t—” His voice broke. “I don’t mean to.”

“Then why do you?” you snapped, eyes glassy, anger trembling under your skin. “Why do you keep pushing me away? Every time I try to be kind, every time I try to care about you — you throw it back in my face.” Taehyun looked down at his hands, curling them into fists. “Because you make it hard to pretend I don’t feel anything.” You stared at him. 

He looked up, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes were wide, vulnerable, raw. “You’re always happy. You shine so damn much it hurts. And I... I’ve spent my whole life trying to be perfect, trying to be what everyone expects. And then you walk in, and you’re better than me, and kinder, and I didn’t know what to do with that. So I lashed out. Because it was easier than admitting I—” He swallowed. “I like you.” Silence bloomed between you. Quiet. Fragile.

“You’re such a bloody idiot,” you muttered.

Taehyun blinked, startled. “What?” And then you stepped forward. Fast. Sure. Your hands came up to grab the collar of his robes, tugging him down before he could react. Your mouth crashed into his with a force that knocked the air out of both of you. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was furious, raw, earned. Taehyun made a soft, strangled noise in the back of his throat, his hands fluttering for a moment before settling; one on your waist, the other braced against the table behind you. But you didn’t wait for him. You deepened the kiss, teeth and warmth and heat and something frantic behind it all. You poured your anger and your longing into him, tasting the apology on his tongue, daring him to mean it.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your eyes burned into his. “I’ve liked you for ages, you emotionally constipated genius,” you whispered, chest heaving. “But I’m not going to keep running after you if you’re going to keep running from yourself.” His mouth parted. He didn’t speak. He only nodded, once, reverent. 

“I won’t break for you again, Taehyun,” you said, softer now. “So if you’re going to kiss me back next time… mean it.”

“I will,” he breathed, eyes wide, lips swollen, still stunned by the hurricane of you. “I swear.” And this time, when you kissed him again, it was slower. Sweeter. The first page of a new chapter written in ink instead of fire. And for once, he let himself feel it.

–

The announcement came quietly, a simple flick of parchment and a name spoken with no ceremony. At breakfast, the Great Hall was humming; spoons clinking against porridge bowls, owls flapping in with the morning post, low chatter weaving between house tables like mist. Professor McGonagall stood at the podium, spectacles glinting as she unrolled the scroll of student appointments. Her voice carried with its usual sharpness, precise and unyielding. “The Prefect position for next term,” she said, “has been awarded to Miss Eliza Rowe of Gryffindor.” 

A polite smattering of applause followed. Nothing loud, nothing triumphant, just the rustle of hands clapping out of obligation more than celebration. Eliza, three seats down from the golden trio’s old haunt, blinked, then straightened her back and nodded once, the picture of composed satisfaction. She’d dotted her i’s with logic, crossed her t’s with ruthlessness, built her empire from timetables and perfectly executed essays. And she deserved it. You blinked, mid-sip of pumpkin juice. Across the table, Taehyun paused, one hand wrapped around a buttered scone. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. And then, like a shared secret, you both burst into soft, startled laughter.

No bitterness curled on your tongues. No resentment twisted in your chests. There was no sting to the loss, only the warm realization that you hadn’t even noticed the stakes anymore. Taehyun leaned forward, elbows brushing the edge of his plate, eyes gleaming in the slanted morning light. “You know, I think this might be the first time I’ve lost anything and not wanted to hex someone about it.” You smirked. “Wow. Character development.” 

He grinned, actually grinned, the corners of his mouth curling like sunlight creeping through storm clouds. “Don’t push it.” You looked down at your plate, then back up at him. “I mean, we both lost, technically. And yet…”

“And yet,” he echoed, voice low and warm, gaze lingering. His fingers brushed yours under the table, just a whisper of contact, but it said everything. You glanced around at the bustle of the Hall. No one was paying attention to you anymore. The spotlight had shifted elsewhere. You and Taehyun were no longer the top contenders, the academic titans vying for dominance. And you didn’t care.

The rivalry had sharpened you both, carved out the edges where you met, but now, here, in this quiet moment between spoonfuls of marmalade and melted butter, it felt like something new was blooming. Not softer, exactly. But truer. Less about pride. More about presence. “I think,” you said slowly, “I’d rather have this.”

He tilted his head. “This?”

You shrugged, fighting a smile. “Us. Whatever we are now.” For a moment, Taehyun didn’t answer. Just looked at you, like you were the only person in the castle worth watching. Like maybe, in some unspoken way, he’d already chosen this over everything else. Then he said, “Me too.”

Epilogue 

The letter arrives on a Tuesday. It isn’t sent with an owl, or folded with formal corners. It’s slipped into your Potions textbook, tucked between a page on amortentia and the properties of powdered moonstone. You find it when your fingers brush against the soft, familiar parchment, sealed with nothing more than a pressed flower. A heliotrope. His favorite. And yours. Your name is scrawled across the front in his ever-meticulous handwriting, slanted and confident and just a touch dramatic. But inside; it’s him, wholly and undeniably.

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower. Tonight. Midnight. Don’t bring Sunoo, or I swear. 

Stop asking questions you already know the answer to, Little Miss Perfect. It makes me want to kiss you. Which is inconvenient. Because I hate you.

—T.K.

You laugh, soft, delighted, head shaking in disbelief. The paper crinkles in your hand as your fingers clutch it tighter, your stomach blooming with something golden and giddy. You press the letter against your lips, a half-suppressed giggle escaping. He still says he hates you. You roll your eyes, slip the letter into your sleeve, and go anyway.

The Astronomy Tower is quiet when you arrive, the air tinged with cold and the faint, fragrant echo of spring pushing through winter’s shadow. Snow clings in delicate lace to the ramparts, the sky a deep indigo velvet scattered with stars. Hogwarts sleeps below, its windows glowing faintly, warm and distant. You find him leaning against the parapet, robes fluttering slightly in the breeze, curls tousled and dark against the moonlight. He doesn’t turn as you approach, but you know he hears you. He always does. “You’re late,” Taehyun murmurs, without looking.

“You’re impossible,” you reply, stepping beside him, shoulder brushing his.

He finally glances at you. “And yet, here you are.”

You smile. It’s soft, easy. “What’s the occasion?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks up, at the moon, at the stars, at anything but you. When he finally speaks, it’s quieter. “I used to come here to get away from people. To think. Sometimes just to breathe.” You say nothing. You let him unravel in his own time.

He exhales, long and slow. “Now all I think about is how badly I want you here. All the time. Even when you’re babbling. Even when you’re winning at things I swore I needed to beat you at.” You glance at him, heart beating like a drum beneath your ribs. He turns to face you fully now, the night making a poem of his profile, sharp lines, soft edges, eyes full of unspoken things.

“You ruined my solitude,” he whispers. 

You tilt your head, teasing. “You’re welcome.” 

His lips twitch. “I should hate you for it.”

“And yet?”

“And yet,” he says, stepping closer, “you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to be wrong with.” You reach for him first this time, fingers brushing his, pulling him into your gravity. He meets you halfway. The kiss is quiet. Slow. Like a confession. Like a wish. Above, the stars burn steady. Below, the castle dreams. And somewhere between the heavens and the earth, a boy who built walls and a girl who tore them down find something far sweeter than victory. Not perfection. But something better. Home

(♬) - @beomiracles @biteyoubiteme @hyukascampfire @dawngyu @izzyy-stuff @1-800-jewon @xylatox

[sunhufflepuff]

Thinking about how the whole Lover’s Lake theory and the fact that the Painting reveal, making Mike come to terms with his love for Will, could be intertwined all-together.

Let me preface this by pointing this,

In S4Ep4, Dustin takes a look at Max drawing and says this :

Nancy recognises Henry Creel House, because of the door….and where’s El is hold against, during Mike whole monologue to her?

His “love” confession was not enough to motivate her to fight back…since it was mostly a lie (aka : superficial; you’re my superhero, you can move mountains ect……nothing about her as a person)

No, she fought back because of her memories….and because she saw Max struggle against Vecna.

Now, it has been established in the show, that people go to Lover’s Lake because it’s a great hiding spot.

(Who else is great at hiding?

Will)

The poster of the song Boys Don’t Cry is the first thing we notice while El narrates S4EP01 : “Will is painting a lot. Maybe it’s for someone he likes.”

[I tried to laugh about it

Cover it all up with lies]

His painting is a love letter to Mike—From Will.

But, he “used” El name has a veil to lie and hide his true feelings for him.

Mike covered up his true feelings, too, because he has been motivated by Will speech through his painting.

What happens in the end of his speech to El?

The Lover’s Lake has been split in the middle, breaking the heart in two parts.

“See Wheeler right here? She didn’t waste a second. Not one second, she just dove right in (the lake) to save you. That was one of most ambiguous signs of True Love that these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Eddie has it all wrong on the whole Nancy-Jonathan—Steve love triangle, by pushing him to try to win her back…..since Steve says to Nancy :

“When I was a baby I was crawling backwards. Like in reverse…..before I learned how to walk.”

Brenner also says this to Eleven in episode 7:

“The truth is you’re going backwards. You’re regressing, Eleven. I know you’re afraid. It’s this fear that is holding you back. You cannot hide from the truth…not matter how frightening it might be.”

If Nancy and Steve are going back together….it’s going backwards to what is safe, they’re not moving forward….they’re going backwards.

It will be a regression within the show.

Mike and Will are also running from their true feelings for each-other….because they’re afraid of the truth.

Like it has been pointed by others Byler’s analysts here, it’s interesting that Eddie didn’t mentioned Nancy by her name.

No, he said : “Wheeler”.

To whom this sentence could really apply, though?

It could apply to El—Mike—Will, love triangle.

Brenner also says to Eleven: “Reality. Truth is really so simple. Only by facing all of ourselves, the good and the bad……that we can become all.”

So, seeing Mike diving into Lovers Lake to save Will (who also got his heart broken, literally) to save him because he loves him?

Seeing him finally facing the truth?

It’s going forward, not backward…..for the three of them because they’re going to stop hiding.

“Stop hiding, Eleven.”

God, gotta love all the parallels.

[kdh-tally]

please please please 🙏 make a part 2 to the role reversal au. You should write about them somehow surviving and their interactions with the boys. It'd be funny too see boys get flustered by hot demon girls😂

Btw ever since you mentioned the 'dark girl crush' concept they I imagine that in the reverse au they give off a mix PIXY and red velvet and pinkfantasy. Maybe with a little bit Sabrina Carpenter and Dove Cameron in there😋

KPDH Swap Au Pt 2

Prompt : Swap Au Continued!!

Author's Note : I went into a deep dive on Pixy after listening to the preview you sent and OMG. I'm so sad they've disbanded bro :((( These aren't proof read... You can read PT 1 here -> Swap AU

They're Back??

Months pass and the boys try to move on.

They’re on a hiatus, Bobby forced them to take one.

Jinu has thrown himself into training.

He was definitely haunted by the loss of Rumi and wasn’t able to get her off his mind EVER. 

Romance and Abby would get closer.

They’d bond over the one who got away ☹️ 

Mystery won’t talk as much, which is bad cause he was barely talking in the beginning.

My guy misses his girl

Well she was never really his girl but he most definitely would've made her his girl if he got the chance yk?

He’s a wreck.

Baby's the only one who's fine.

He does miss the girls a teeny tiny bit though, it was like having three older sister who were constantly trying to kill you.

They never found the girls’ bodies. Just the glowing aftermath of their magic in the air.

Jinu insisted that was the end of the, that there was absolutely no way for them to come back. It was a last goodbye.

He was wrong 💀

A crack opens in the fabric of reality during one of their dance practices.

A portal flashes, a wave of power hits, and out of their ceiling descends them.

Zoey, with her hair still styled down as it was during their final performance.

Mira, casually chewing gum and adjusting her gloves waaay too nonchalantaly.

Rumi, throwing a very playful smirk at Jinu.

What the actual hell?

Mystery just stares.

While he did miss Zoey he hadn’t expected to be faced with her so soon…

He doesn’t speak or move. Actually I don’t think he eve could if he wanted to.

Zoey beams at him “Did ya miss me?”

“I- um.” he’s stuttering and can barely get a word out

Baby has to remind this guy how to breath.

“Out through your nose, in through your mouth.”

Abby’s jaw is dropped. He genuinely forgets what he was doing.

Romance is right beside him, holding onto his shoulder for stability cause bro is scared he might fall over just from Mira’s presence.

“Cute. Still absolutely whipped, huh?” she smirks.

They die.

Jinu goes silent then he’d get angry.

He’d feel like the whole sacrifice thing must’ve just been a joke since they obviously just popped up looking completely fine.

“You look fine for someone who got burnt into pieces right in front of me”

“Would you rather I crawl in here bleeding?” Rumi sassed back, eyes narrowed as she tried to understand just why he was so upset.

“I watched you die, Rumi. So tell me why you’re standing here like nothing happened.”

Ohhhhhh. Jinu’s lost and probably thinks the whole sacrifice thing was a stunt or something since all the girls look fine!

The lightbulb goes on in her brain.

“I thought I was gone for good too,” she admits. “Not sure how I'm here but i meant what I did, Jinu. I’d do it again even if it meant I wouldn’t come back”

The two just stare each other before Jinu pulls her into a hug. 

“Take me with you next time. Living without you is hard”

Getting Forced Into Society

The girls adjust quick.

Lounging in the Saja Boys’ dorm like they own it. 

Mira has her legs up on Abby’s desk as she watches fan videos and theories about what must’ve happened to the girls to make them disappear.

“Someone thinks we were holograms,” she laughs before stopping to look at the boys. “What's a hologram?”

Zoey was poking around in Mystery’s lyric notebook, reading everything he had ever written for her since the day she disappeared.

Mystery is trying not to die of embarrassment. 

Rumi is petting Derpy, the tiger, like he’s her pet.

He might as well be.

Jinu is seething out of jealousy. “That should be me.”

“You’re getting jealous of a tiger?” Abby side eyes him (like ur one to talk 😑).

Baby walks in with food and immediately tries to back out. 

“I’m not dealing with this today.”

Zoey flips her hair and follows him, smirking “C’mon Baby~ You know you missed us”

Rumi and Mira nod in agreement with her words, they missed teasing the guy.

“I hate all of you,” he’d grumble before flopping beside Mira and watching theories with her.

Zoey eventually joins them, she refuses to give Mystery his lyric book back and so he follows her.

All four of them are chilling on the couch.

Mira, abusing her influence, somehow gets Abby and Romance to bring all of them snacks.

Both boys are competing against each other and they don’t even notice.

Rumi is watching them in amusement, and Jinu is watching Rumi.

In this au, Jinu was the one with the Choo Choo pants and Rumi bullied him for it.

Rumi would wear the pants here, after much teasing from Jinu, only because she didn’t have any clothes to change into.

Totally not cause she secretly found them cute or anything…

“So,” she’d turn to him, “what did you do while I was gone?”

“Sleep, eat, miss you, dance, practice, think about you, cook, dream about you, go live, write about you-” Rumi interrupts him by throwing a pillow at his face.

Fan Reactions (Because They’re Public Again)

Time to redebut into kpop society again!!!

Everyone is quivering in their pants because tf you mean the random girl group that appeared, dropped 3 BANGERS, won the idol awards, (almost took all of their souls not that they’d know or anything) have come back???

They’d drop a new album called like Armageddon. 

The girls would eat up “Armageddon” by Aespa

Actually feel like a decent amount of aespa songs would suit them.

Other honorable mentions!!! “Bewitched” and “Swan Song” by PIXY (they have unfortunately disbanded ☹️) “Egoistic” by Mamamoo 🥰

The whole thing is terrifying in a good way

The boys watch all their stages from behind the scenes, or they hide in the crowd but have been caught multiple times because Mystery and Romance are not subtle about their huge crushes.

“She looks even hotter than before. How is that allowed?”

Mira would give a little wave to the camera, knowing they were watching. Abby waves back then realizes she cannot see him amongst the huge crowd 💀

Whenever Rumi sings, she proudly shows off her patterns (feel like in this au she too would be a half demon but so would Jinu). They’re glowing and everything, fans chalk it up to special effects but Jinu is so flustered cause she looks so fineeeeee.

Ship Wars Are Back

Zoeystery

Zoey goes live one day with the Moonies (name i made up after Honmoon lol) and one of em point out a VERY familiar book in the background.

It’s Mysterys.

She picks it up and shows it to the camera, not opening it or reading it for them obvi. 

“A really good friend of mine gave this to me” she smile sweetly to the fans, she knows hes is watching. 

Miromabby

These two are in a constant war for her attention.

Mira doesn’t even plan on choosing, she knows she has both of them under her control.

However, she would make them compete for her affection just for entertainment.

“Watch this,” she’d tell the girls before turning to the boys, holding an incredibly cute lunch bag. “Romance got me lunch.”

“I made it myself!” The man perks up at his name being called. 

“That’s nothing, I cooked her breakfast” Abby would counter.

Fighting ensues.

Rujinu

Jinu sits Rumi down and forces her to record free with him.

It’s not for the fans or anything, its just for them to listen to whenever they miss each other.

It’s all laughs and smiles in the production studio, Jinu refused help from anyone, only wanting it to be them.

They definitely shed a few tears, the lyrics just got so real.

They’d be on the couch, Rumi all snuggled up next to him with her legs over his. She’d be asking about a bunch of human stuff. 

Since she’s back to stay she might as well learn.

Jinu isn’t really listening and just stares at her.

She looks at him in slight confusion and amusement, “Can’t focus?”

“Never can when I’m around you,” he’d kiss her. 

Baby could not care less. He's happy his band members are happy.

All In All

The girls survived

The boys survived

Everyone is alive.

They’re back

Bobby is ecstatic

No one in the kpop industry is safe from both of these absolute powerhouses.

[thefemmeprince]

there's something so neat about the juxtaposition between 'Your Idol' and 'What It Sounds Like' that i really love.

starting with 'Your Idol', it's very directly talking to the audience, the fans. and it's very manipulative, almost hitting classic toxic bf energy. "keeping you in check, keeping you obsessed" is incredibly demeaning in the way it sees the fans. you're meant to be controlled by the saja boys, and your obsession, your love means almost nothing to them. but "i'm the only one who'll love your sins" is such a fascinating line to me because it fully encapsulates what the demons do. demons bring out your shame and convince you that you're not worthy of love, so that when they offer you love, you see it as something that you'll never get again.

but the saja boys do this in both their songs. in "Soda Pop" and "Your Idol", the songs very directly talk to the audience. not that it's a bad thing to do in music, but it's deliberate with the Saja Boys, because the "you" in their songs is you.

You're their soda pop.

You could be everything they need.

They need you to fill them up.

No one is coming to save you.

They're encouraging the fans to come to them directly. They're encouraging a parasocial relationship with the fans because that's the way they know how to easily take out their shame. The Saja Boys love you. The Saja Boys need you. The Saja Boys are the only one who will love you, and would it be so bad to give your heart and soul to the only people in the world that could ever love you? and it really takes advantage of the vulnerability of the fans, because oftentimes when people love music, it's because they see themselves in the song. they see themselves reflected.

so when huntr/x responds with 'What It Sounds Like', it's a huge juxtaposition because most huntr/x songs aren't targeting one person in particular. 'What It Sounds Like' is an expression of the girls and how they're feeling.

I broke into a million pieces, and I can't go back.

I covered up the colors stuck inside my head.

My voice without the lies.

huntr/x is expressing their personal emotions, not trying to relate to the fans directly. they're saying "these are my experiences. this is how i feel in my life." it's not saying that you, the audience, are vulnerable. it's saying we, huntr/x, are being vulnerable. every time the song refers to a "you", it seems to be a generalized "you". they could be talking about the fans, or they could be talking about the members of huntr/x. rumi could be talking to mira. mira could be talking to zoey. etc. whereas, with the saja boys, there was no question. the saja boys weren't talking to each other, they were talking to the audience.

so when the fans join in, singing on "What It Sounds Like", it's a moment of solidarity rather than desperation. they know how huntr/x feels, and they feel as if they could sing this song themselves. because, oftentimes, that's what art is. it's an expression of the creator that happens to resonate with others. huntr/x wasn't targeting the fans, but they won them over because they were vulnerable and honest and open.

and huntr/x is at their best when they're talking about themselves and their experiences.

'golden' never talks about "you". 'golden' is an expression of huntr/x. it's about them specifically. about them being true to themselves, their goals, their dreams, their weaknesses. and even the film calls it their song about the best of them. it's a song about endurance. the fans can and are allowed to connect with it, but the song is written just as huntr/x talking about themselves.

we're flying up.

it's our moment.

i was alone.

i'm done hiding, now i'm shining, like i'm born to be.

'how it's done' is at the very beginning of the film, an establishing song. there's a mix of targeting a "you", but it's evenly divided with the "we" and "i" of it all. they're prejudiced about demons, we know this, but they're also mostly doing good because they haven't lost themselves in it yet.

we run the town.

our voice is unwavering.

our song defeats the night.

we hunt you down.

but 'takedown' is specifically targeted. not towards the fans. to the saja boys. but it uses "you" heavily.

it's time to put you in your place.

you're ugly as sin.

you're all the same.

and the only time it focuses on the "me" is when it talks about how much i hate you. huntr/x loses themselves in their own prejudice, which is why this can't be the song that defeats gwi-ma.

just found it neat, how they address the fans differently and how it reflects the journeys of these characters

[rori-is-writing]

Tell Me It Gets Easier

⟪ ⟨ Ch 1: Sorry To Bother You ⟩ ⟫

A The Pitt AU Fic.

Multi-Part | Explicit | Dr. Robby x OC | 1,323 words ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Summary: Robby’s secret telepathic neighbor keeps interrupting him every time he thinks a little too hard about offing himself. But in the process, finds herself drawn to him in a way she never would have expected.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Tags: Age Gap (20+ years), Female OC, Suicidal Ideation, Telepathy

Read on AO3 | The Pitt Masterlist

[ A/N: The only downside to writing in this fandom is there aren't a lot of fantasy adjacent fics or AUs out there. So I guess I had to write my own. ]

Why am I here?

Daisy paused in her aggressive chopping and glanced at the wall where she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, her neighbor currently sat on the other side—contemplating killing himself…again. 

Christ. This was the third time this month. 

She waited, hoping perhaps it was just one of those passing thoughts that rarely ever came to anything. Like when someone would look over the railing of a balcony or bridge and randomly think I wonder what would happen if I jumped? Of course most people rarely ever acted on those sorts of thoughts. In fact, they were usually so disturbed by the shocking suddenness of them that they would go out of their way to pretend it had never happened at all. 

Unfortunately for her though, this was not one of those. 

I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t lose another one.

Suddenly—in her mind’s eye—she saw a glimpse of a too-small face, covered in blood and staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as the sound of a flatlined heart monitor droned on in the background. 

Daisy wished this were the first time she were seeing the death of a child in someone’s head but unfortunately she’d long since grown numb to it. After a lifetime of hearing and seeing the thoughts and memories of others—the good, the bad, and the most truly heinous and soul-crushing—it was a miracle she hadn’t gone crazy before the age of twelve. 

With a sigh, she laid her knife flat on the cutting board and made her way towards her front door. Dinner could wait. 

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“Hi there, sorry to bother you,” Daisy said, not sorry at all as her neighbor opened his door to blink suspiciously at her. 

Robby was just as scruffy and exhausted looking as he always was. Though that made sense considering he was an E.R. doctor. Or so she had gleaned from his mind that first day she’d moved into the apartment next to his. 

Her again, he thought. Wasn’t she just here last week?

She had, yes. After he’d spent far too long staring at the bottle of Percocet he kept in the back of his medicine cabinet—something leftover from some surgery he’d undergone several years before—and had swiftly appeared at his doorstep to offer him ‘home-warming’ cookies like they hadn’t been neighbors for the last two and a half years. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen my cat roaming around have you?” Daisy asked him with her best concerned Cat Mom face. “Mumble. He’s an orange tabby. Fat. Adorable. Loves attention and snacks.” 

This was, in fact, a lie—not about the attention or snacks of course, her cat loved nothing more than to beg for treats and chin scritches—but that Mumble was very much safe and sound. In fact, as of five minutes ago, he was still napping away the evening in his favorite spot—the basket of clean laundry she always told herself she’d get around to folding before giving up when she inevitably fished out her last wrinkled blouse of the week…before starting the cycle all over again. 

But her neighbor didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh,” Robby said, surprised. He paused, actually searching his memory for a glimpse of an orange tail or ears hiding behind a bush on his walk home from work. Poor thing. She almost felt bad about deceiving him. 

Almost. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Daisy continued, knowing damn well he was. “But I just worry about him is all…” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding genuinely contrite. “I can’t say I have.” 

She pasted on her best ‘I’m so disappointed but trying to hide it’ face before nodding. “Yes, of course. I won’t bother you any more. Just wanted to check if you’d seen him. I’m sure he’ll turn up though.” 

As she moved back she couldn’t help but reach out with her mind, brushing against his just to make sure he would be okay for the remainder of the night. 

Most minds had a ‘taste’. A feeling that was distinctly, wholly their own. Her mother’s tasted like sunscreen and cheap wine on the beach—her favorite place to vacation every summer with her husband before Daisy had been born. Her father’s tasted like newspaper and wood shavings—his refuge in their old shed where he liked to wile away his weekends building furniture for no one in particular. 

But Robby’s mind, his tasted like blood and antiseptic. Old leather and new scalpels straight out of the packaging. The bitterness of loss and the sweetness of friendship. A physician’s mind through and through. His vocation was not simply his job, but his life. He hated and loved it in equal measure, not matter how much it broke him some days. 

He would be fine, for now at least. Until the darkness called him once more and she was there to distract him again. 

Same time next week? She thought with no small amount of dark humor. 

“Sorry I couldn’t help,” Robby murmured awkwardly. 

Daisy smiled as she backed toward her own door. 

“You already have.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Daisy remembered the first time she realized she was hearing thoughts instead of spoken words. 

She had only been a toddler then—just a couple of months shy of her fourth birthday. Still wholly innocent and sweet—unburdened by the knowledge of what she was just yet. Speech had come to her early. Her parents had marveled over the rapid and exciting development of their only child, so far ahead of her peers in her age range. 

Of course, it was only later that it would become clear that this had more to do with Daisy’s ability to hear every word and thought—spoken or otherwise—rather than their daughter being some sort of wunderkind genius as they had initially assumed. But those were revelations for later. 

“She already knows her letters!” Daisy’s mother had boasted to her friend. “Her doctor is so impressed!”

The friend, a bottle-blonde with a perpetually frazzled air about her, smiled in reply. Her lips had been closed. She never spoke. And yet…Daisy had heard her words regardless. 

Letters my ass. She has to be exaggerating. Addy didn’t know her letters until she went to Kindergarten! 

Daisy had blinked up at the woman. 

“Bad word.” She said. 

The woman smiled down at her, confused. “What’s that sweetie?” 

“Bad word,” Daisy repeated, a little more forcefully. 

“What bad word sweetheart?” Her mother asked, equally puzzled by this strange turn in the conversation. 

“Can’t say,” Daisy said. “Bad.” 

Her mother had, of course, drilled into her the importance of never using ‘bad words’ after she’d repeated a few her father had ‘said’ very loudly once. But this was different. This was a guest using them. And so…so rudely! 

What the fuck is she on about?

Daisy gasped. 

“Bad word!” She yelled, pointing an accusing chubby finger at the woman. 

Her mother’s friend frowned. I didn’t say that out loud did I? No, of course not…but then why…?

And that’s when it had all clicked into place. 

The afternoon had only spiraled from there. Daisy had swiftly been sent to her room for being rude to her mother’s guest but it hadn’t mattered. Like always, she could hear them speaking through the walls, as if they were right there in the room with her. 

I don’t understand what’s wrong with her today. I can’t believe she would embarrass me like that!

What a weird kid. 

I bet she’s just overtired. She just needs a nap. 

Maybe she’s possessed? No, that doesn’t make sense. Demons aren’t real…unless…? 

And so on and so forth until the woman left. 

She never came to visit again. 

Not that it had mattered to Daisy. All that mattered from then on was that she knew. Knew what she was.

Weird. 

Unnatural. 

A freak. 

Next Chapter | Tell Me It Gets Easier Masterlist

Thanks for reading! 🩵

If you would like to be added (or removed) to this or future tag lists, please let me know!

Tag List: @wisps-writes-fic

[summercreolefanfictioner]

08. of ikebana and messy rouge stains

note: listen to pretty boy by M2M for a better experience 😉

There was a CD store nearby where they could listen to new released songs for free. Y/N thought Toge might be finding ways on how he can communicate without her having to use her power on him. After all, as much as he wanted to talk to her in his voice, there might be people watching them from afar. The Hanagawa's sometimes like to play dirty, he learned from his grandfather one time when he asked Toge about his opinion on his bride.

Y/N went to this one section that had old love songs, looking for something she could add to her playlist, when she saw this one CD that had an amusing song title. She played it, hoping it would be as nice as she expected, only for her to blush furiously upon hearing the lyrics. She had full mastery of the English language, so listening to this song was a piece of cake.

I just hope Inumaki-san doesn't understand this song.

Seeing how she had been intently listening to the song in her spot, Toge approached her, taking the other earphone and placing it in his ear to find out. Y/N instantly panicked, trying to stop him but Toge was already humming the instrumental tune.

"Shake shake," he mumbled. This song's good.

And it was already nearing the bridge when things changed, his eyes widening at the words he heard.

"Oh, pretty boy...

Say you love me too..."

Y/N blushed. This moment was as good as confessing to him; and on Valentine's Day, of all days!

She was about to go to a different section, brushing it off as nothing, when Toge took hold of her hand and pulled her close to him. "Okaka," he reprimanded (Don't let go), and she believed he was pouting underneath his mask as the song played even further. This was bad for her. After all, the song reminded her too much of him.

"Oh, my pretty, pretty boy, I love you like I never ever loved no one before you.

Pretty, pretty boy of mine, just tell me you love me too."

Well, she couldn't deny it. Inumaki Toge was one pretty boy. No one has dared approach him, but she was aware of how a few girls who passed by gushed about how cute he was.

Unknowingly, Toge was staring down at Y/N, as the song finished, still holding her hand. He didn't care about the others in the background. To him, there was just Y/N and him in that CD store, listening to this one song about a girl confessing her feelings to a pretty boy. Toge wanted to assume she was referring to him, even though he doesn't think of himself as such.

"Pretty, pretty boy, I need you. Oh, my pretty, pretty boy, I do."

When Y/N looked up, Toge's stare on her was still there, making her swallow in nervousness. Heart racing in her chest, she took initiative, asking him, "Do you understand the song?"

The song already ended. Toge took out the earphone along with hers and put it back to where it was originally placed.

"Let me inside. Make me stay right beside you."

"Sha—"

Before he could reply, they heard a knock on the glass window, turning to see Gojo outside wearing a satisfied grin with Ijichi fidgeting in his spot like he should be punished for ruining a perfect moment right there. Toge sighed, still not letting her go as he took her outside with him to meet his teacher. He wanted to be with her still, but he had an agreement with Gojo. Besides, they'll still see each other this weekend.

"Did you have fun?" Gojo asked, staring at the pair and noticing the blush adorning Y/N's cheeks.

Something nice must have happened, he concluded.

Toge nodded, typing something on his phone and showing it to Y/N.

"Be safe back home. I'll see you on Saturday. Thanks for the chocolates."

Then Y/N noticed there seemed to be a message on the bottom so she scrolled it down, only to gasp.

"I can understand English, you know."

"You can join us if you like," Gojo offered, but Y/N shook her head.

"N-No need, sir. I'll just take the train. S-Someone might see..." she declined, imagining her family going ballistic at the thought that she and Toge disobeyed the rules of his clan.

"Okay. Let's go, Toge. Have a safe trip, young lady!"

And then, they left as Y/N stood there on her spot, trying to calm her beating heart.

"I can understand English, you know."

She was so gonna have dreams of him tonight.

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

tags: @enouche @ch3esesoup @bloemrijk (comment below so I can add you to the taglist)

[uwouldthink]

I do think that having overly coddling parents is a good enough explanation to explain most of the reasons why Marinette is Like That, and that's because of parental modeling.

You bring it up in your 4th option, but it doesn't even need to go as far as turning every situation into crisis in order to have a similar effect. Children are very impressionable and tend to learn the behaviour they see much more than the behaviour they're taught. Tom has big reactions to a lot of things, but especially anything that hurts Marinette or has her experiencing discomfort. So as a child, Marinette would've learned that pain, discomfort and negative emotions are something really bad that needs to be avoided at all costs, which is why her parents (especially her dad) borderline panic when they see her experiencing it and scramble to stop it (like we see them doing in Animestro when they allow her to be the waitress).

But Tom is not the only culprit here. Sabine is far better about it, but we also see her struggling to put boundaries in place when it might upset Marinette. Animestro is one example but also in Simon Says when both she and Tom hold each other like they did something really difficult when they grounded Marinette until she stopped with her absences (which is a perfectly normal and even trivial parental discipline).

So Marinette grew up learning that discomfort and negative emotions are BadTm and that even a small amount of it isn't tolerable. It makes sense that she would think even a small mistake could lead to catastrophic outcomes because even small discomfort is bad and needs to be avoided. Furthermore, because she was so coddled, she never developed coping mechanisms to deal with disappointments or build up a feeling of capability of dealing with her mistakes.

Combine this with how she has a tendency to project and a real difficulty understanding other perspective, and her tiptoeing around people is perfectly logical. After all, even small discomforts are bad, and she "knows" (based on her own experiences) that it's something that's hard to cope with and causes big reactions.

In a world where discomfort is the worst thing ever, going behind people's back to avoid confrontations and negative feelings makes perfect sense. And when even a small discomfort can be bad, being a control freak is just a way to ensure that nothing of that sort happens, since something that's inherent in that mindset is the implicit assumption that there's no ability to adapt or recover from mistakes, hence why every mistake is a world ending one.

You didn't bring it up, but her parents being overly coddling also explains why she's so dependent on external validation and crumbles without it. As mentioned before, she never got the chance to develop a feeling that she's capable of dealing with mistakes and setbacks. But more than that, her parents taught her that being overtly emotionally expressive gets her what she wants, both in terms of material outcomes but also in terms of emotional processing. Her wide network of people she can rely on to outsource her emotional coping helps reinforce it. Marinette never had to deal with difficult emotions alone without someone to comfort her and the one time she did she didn't last more than a few days before breaking and getting someone else involved she could rely on.

Something I don't see discussed very often is, why is Marinette like this? An anxiety problem like hers isn't born in a vacuum, and while Derision was an attempt to explain things, it ended up not actually explaining anything! I've said this before, but Marinette's tendency to babble around Adrien is clearly the result of her neuroticism, and that neuroticism affects all other areas of her life.

One theory I've seen is that Marinette is the child of overly coddling parents, but if being overly coddled was it, Marinette would not tiptoe around other people the way she does. She'd take it on faith that everyone is nice and understanding and mature and willing to compromise. Instead, she doesn't. She hates having tough conversations. She always tries to do everything herself, and even when she does let people help her, she can't handle not having 100% of the control. She believes she has to go behind people's backs instead of actually working things out with them. She overreacts constantly, and her mind always goes to the worst possible worst case scenario. She refuses to talk about her problems to the point of not being able to admit she loves Adrien to Master Fu of all people. To me, she reads more like someone who grew up in a chaotic household where everyone was one minor inconvenience away from snapping, because she treats everyone in her life as if they're one minor inconvenience away from snapping.

Marinette has to have internalized this mentality from somewhere, and there are basically four possibilities.

There were problems in the parents' relationship. I can't see Tom and Sabine having those, and if they do, they wouldn't share them with Marinette or let that affect her.

One or both parents use the child as an emotional crutch, mostly in conjunction with 1). While I can see Émilie doing this to Adrien, I can't see Tom and Sabine doing it to Marinette.

An ongoing crisis, like the family having financial problems, someone having a chronic illness, the like. In this situation, the family's resources have to be directed somewhere other than the child, and they grow up not wanting to add to everyone else's problems.

The parents are immature and have the tendency to overreact, turning every situation into a crisis.

To me, 3) and 4) make the most sense. It's perfectly plausible that Tom and Sabine struggled to get the bakery off the ground when Marinette was a little girl, and we know Tom does have the tendency to make a big deal out of everything.

[soapywankenopy]

Oh Katniss and Finnick my loves

They are one of the best depictions of friendship in all of fiction

Definitely the best friendship in THG

I love them so much

[mxwhore]

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[elrielffs]

All this talk about how SJM "wouldn't do that to poor Lucien, he's already been thru so much!" in regards to Elain rejecting him.

Forget that Dorian got rejected by Aelin, watched his next lover Sorcha's head get cut off, and then was a prisoner of his own mind and had to watch his dad die after finding out he loved him all those years.

Yes, SJM would do that.

(She also paired Manon and Dorian a -gasp- couple with different lifespans! @ those that they say Lucien and Vassa can't be together. Same with Lorcan and Elide.)