#he keeps saying how things would have been so different if he just talked to them

[piastriprincess]

wrapped  around  your  finger ⸻  alex  albon  x  reader  .

featuring  alex  albon  ,  established  relationship  ,  disgusting  tooth  rotting  fluff  word  count  0.8k author’s  note  requested  by  anon  forever  ago  but  i  just  got  inspired  for it today  !!  ALEX  ALBON  P5  oh  the  man  that  you  are  …  i’m  a  mclaren  enjoyer  but  if  we  don’t  get  albodium  this  season  i  WILL  riot  .  this  is  a  bit  short  and  frankly  very  random  but  i  was  having  brainrot  about  cuddling  with  alex  and  saw  the  albon_pets  story  which  just  made  me  laugh  and  inspired  a  tiny  bit  of  the  fic  .  i  hope  you  enjoy  it  ,  anon  !  as  always  come  tell  me  what  you  think  and  my  inbox  is  always  open  for  requests  !  title  is  from  linger  by  the  cranberries  .

“Okay. What am I drawing now?”

You trace your finger deliberately against the side of Alex’s arm. You’re in the hotel bed in Imola; you flew in just a few hours before, after your boyfriend mumbled through the phone after qualifying that he missed you very much and would like you to come to the race please, if you could. He’s been clingy all evening since you got to Italy, now holding your back flush against his chest in the bed, arms wrapped around your waist. You like that he always presses his arms tight against yours, like he’s not just spooning you but actively hugging you closer.

There’s silence, for a moment. Even though you’re facing away from him, you can picture his face, the way his bottom lip is probably caught between his teeth, the way his eyebrows furrow when he’s concentrating. “A cat?”

“Be more specific,” you say, smiling. 

He sighs lightly into your hair, his grip around you settling just a little tighter. “You’re expecting me to guess one of the cats based on your invisible drawing on my bicep?”

“They’re your children, you should know them by touch.” 

“Fine, okay — do it again,” he says, and you try not to laugh at the appearance of his familiar competitive streak, exactly like you knew would happen when you started this little game. Still, you oblige, dragging your finger over his skin again and watching as it leaves goosebumps in its wake. “Horsey,” he says confidently. “Definitely Horsey.”

You shake your head, hiss through your teeth like a disappointed game show host. “It was Moomoo.”

“That felt nothing like Moomoo,” he protests, and you just laugh. “Are you having me on, love? Barely felt like a cat, honestly — it’d be a bit of a funny-looking thing.” 

“Well…” you say, trailing off, and Alex gasps. 

“How very dare you. Moomoo is a handsome boy,” your boyfriend says haughtily. He gives an exaggerated gulp like he’s shocked at your audacity to suggest otherwise, but you know better. Really it’s just because he knows you hate the feeling of his adam's apple bobbing against the back of your head. 

“Alex, ew, stop, it feels so weird!” you whine, squirming away from his grip, but he holds you firm against him, arms lean and strong around yours. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says lightly, doing it again. “And if you keep wiggling around it’s going to be something very different rubbing against you.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles. “I’m scandalized, Albon.”

“It’s scandalous business,” he replies, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Tread carefully.”

You snuggle in closer, cherishing the proximity after being apart for the week. There’s a yawn creeping into the edges of your voice when you speak again. “I’ll be sure to watch my step. Your turn. I’ll close my eyes, you draw.”

“If you close your eyes, you’re going to fall asleep, love,” Alex murmurs, his hand ghosting gently up and down your side in a soothing sort of motion.  

“I won’t,” you lie. You can feel the exhaustion overtaking your body, but you want the time with him more. “Promise. I’ll stay up until you go to sleep. Now draw.”

“Bossy,” he huffs, but there’s no heat behind it. There’s a pause, and then his fingertip drags slowly across your forearm. It’s delicate, precise, like he’s trying to make sure you get it right without disturbing you too much. 

You hum, trying to picture the soft touches in your mind’s eye. “Is it… a star?”

“No.”

“Then it’s a really lopsided version of the track tomorrow.”

Alex laughs, low and warm in your ear. “It’s a heart.”

“Might need to take some art classes, baby,” you tease, though you can feel your cheeks heating up even in the dark, cool room. 

“Hey, my canvas was moving,” he says, squeezing your arm as if to emphasize his terrible conditions. “And I was distracted.”

You crack one eye open at that, tilt your head back towards him even though you can’t see him. “Distracted by what?”

He shifts slightly, like he’s trying to be closer to you even though he’s basically wrapped around you by this point. When he speaks, his voice is achingly soft, almost shy. “By how happy I am you’re here.”

The sudden sincerity makes something warm bloom in your chest. You’re quiet for a beat, finding his hand in the darkness and intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m happy I’m here too,” you whisper. “Even if your drawing skills are questionable.”

“Rude,” Alex mumbles into your hair, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Poured my soul into that drawing, didn’t I?”

You laugh, tired and utterly content as your eyes flutter shut again. “I lied earlier. I think I’m falling asleep.”

“I know, love,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, squeezing his hand once before you let go. “Love you.”

You don’t hear his reply. You feel it, as sleep starts to drag you under. 

Alex’s finger tracing across your forearm. L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-M-O-R-E.

[quesocheeso]

*At this point it's your fault. Hello my friend from the other side of the darkness.*

Now this is just a funny idea.

Who do you think is shadowpeach biggest fan?

Nezha? Xiaoxing? MK? No, definitely none of them. It is actually Macaque's doctor.

Hear me out.

He is an old man who had his fair share of poor demons being taken advantage of then thrown away when they couldn't give birth to a powerful child. He loves kids and became a doctor hoping to save as many as possible or at least help the mothers.

At first he hated Wukong and tried to give Macaque a headstart for when Wukong got rid of him and the magicless baby.

But a few visits later he could clearly see how loved the baby and the mother are. Wukong would keep notes of all the things related to them and wouldn't ask twice about any type of treatment. The baby was clearly happy and the mother was very well taken care of.

And so they became his favourite couple.

Now for the fun part:

Macaque and Wukong had a fight before going to doctor and he clearly noticed:

Doctor:"Well, as far as I can see Mr. Macaque, your tests are improving smoothly however the rapid heartbeat is very concerning." (His ass is lying.)

Wukong immediately switching from angry to absolutely concerned:"What? But he's been taking his medication and eating healthy, why would he have that?"

_"I need to do more tests to be sure but just in case, was there any reason for Mr. Macaque to be stressed these past few days?"

_"We had a fight... Why? Is that why he's getting sick?"

_"That's my best guess. I do need to remind you that even though he looks fine, he can still get very sick very quickly, he is not in the safe zone yet." (Macaque has been luxuriously living in the safe zone for a while now.)

Macaque:"So what do I do? Do I need medicine for it?"

Doctor:"I'd like to avoid that if possible, we don't want to exhaust your body. Let's try talking things out first and..."

_"And what?"

_"Well, physical relations are very good to release pent-up stress. I'm just saying to keep that in mind. If you don't want that then I'll have to prescribe you some more medicine."

Wukong:"We'll try talking things out first."

Doctor:"That's wonderful to know. Please speak to the secretary about rescheduling a new appointment to check on the mother and the baby later."

Even though he lied a lot, he was still very professional and kept an eye out for his patient. But these two walked into his office without holding hands and he took it personally. It would be a tragedy in his book to let these break up.

Imagine his happiness when he knew there's another baby on the way. As the shadowpeach fan club president, he was overjoyed and made sure these two would not be one second apart during the pregnancy.

*Imagine it for a second and tell me it's not hilarious. Anyway, have a great day! I'll excuse myself into the darkness.*

Girlypop I let out the loudest ass laugh ever possible when you said Macaques doctor was these two biggest fan, brooooo that old lady HATES their asses (affectionately) lmaoooo

She’s actually the side character the next 3am comic features and I lover her to bits, she is straight to the point and close to being vulgar while at the same time trying to kick these youngsters from her office at all times, she was Macaque’s midwife for Xiaoxing’s birth, and consequently the midwife to the rest of his kids

Although I do love the concept of her grudgingly caring about the youngsters and helping them work out some of their problems, because of the type of relationship she’s seen in her days with powerful couples, and how different the monkeys are.

She did think Wukong was a dead beat dad during Macaque’s first pregnancy since he was out of the picture, but that did change when he broke into the delivery room to be there for the birth and then stuck around for everything else, specifically to make sure Macaque was alright,,,,, you know that video of the dad who keeps looking for his wife and her health through the hospital doors while his family fawns over his child, that’s Wukong fr lol

[wren-kitchens]

uh. seven minutes in heaven?

1565 words

"what are we?" grian jerks upward in surprise, nearly banging his head on the shelf above him as he looks to joel. despite everything, it's funny. "you- what do you mean?" to his own frustration, joel hesitates. "i- we can't keep doing this." he says eventually, looking at anything but grian. he glances at his hands, which doesn't help matters in the slightest, because he went and painted grian's bloody eye colour on his nails like that was ever a good idea.

completely based on the wonderful comics and fics by @ludolka! i needed to make them kiss </3

"what are we?"

grian jerks upward in surprise, nearly banging his head on the shelf above him as he looks to joel. despite everything, it's funny. "you- what do you mean?"

to his own frustration, joel hesitates. "i- we can't keep doing this." he says eventually, looking at anything but grian. he glances at his hands, which doesn't help matters in the slightest, because he went and painted grian's bloody eye colour on his nails like that was ever a good idea. "we- we make out when we're drunk, we say that's just what people do, and then- then we pretend like it means nothing to paint each other's eye colour on ourselves." he huffs. "so- so what are we?"

for a moment, the sound of the old grandfather clock ticking is the only sound in the room. grian sighs heavily. "i don't- i don't know, joel. i won't even-" he cuts himself off, burying his face in his knees. "i’m sorry."

joel's heart sinks in his chest, and he wishes he'd never even brought it up. it was better, maybe, to have the possibility that his feelings were requited- that something could happen between them. but maybe he should just move on. "right. sorry, i didn't- i should have said something before, i just-"

"said what?" grian looks up so suddenly, joel has to blink. why would that make a difference- wait, does grian not know-

"i-" joel finds his voice failing him, and he can't say he’s too surprised. still, he’s not pleased. "just- how i feel? about- about you?" he still can't even say it.

there's a kind of intensity behind grian's eyes that reminds him uncannily of birdie as he stares at joel. "which- which is?"

"i don't- why are you making me say this?" joel says, heart racing in his chest, though whether it's from panic or flusteredness, he can't quite say. it- grian's eyes are- are nice to look at, alright- don't judge him. 

grian doesn’t let up, doesn't even answer, and joel finds himself stammering out a response regardless. "i want to- to stop pretending that everyone makes out when they’re drunk, or that it's- it's a stupid bad boys thing when we call each other babe- not that you ever did it much." joel's breath is shallow, but he still manages a scoff. "i want to take- take advantage of the fact that we're stuck inside a fucking cupboard because of some ghosts that don't even exist-" he takes a breath. "and i want you to want that too."

grian is still staring at him, but it's different—like all the heat has been completely dissipated, leaving him with what joel can only describe as shock. he- he really hopes that's the good kind of shock. "oh."

joel waits, but nothing else comes. "you- i don't pour my bloody heart and soul out just for you to say oh." he half yells, not sure if he’s angry or just scared. "at least tell me what-"

it takes a second for joel to even realise why he’s not talking anymore, and why he feels like every problem he’s ever had have been solved. and then grian puts a hand on his waist, and joel's eyes flutter shut on instinct, and- oh. grian is kissing him.

and that's just insane, because grian- grian is kissing him. they’re in a random cupboard in a supposedly haunted house, and grian has pulled him in by the collar of his shirt, and is kissing him. why is this happening- how is this happening? joel almost tries to pull away, to ask what on earth is going on, but at the slightest push, grian whines in such a pathetic way that joel suddenly wants nothing more than to kiss him stupid- questions can come later.

their bodies press together, and joel has to relish how good it feels when he’s sober- how he can so easily categorise the sounds he manages to coax from grian, and just how he got him to make them. muscle memory seems to kick in, and joel is running his teeth across grian's lip before he even remembers how often grian would blush and turn away whenever joel bit his own lip, which- god, that has more of a meaning now, doesn’t it?

it occurs to him, vaguely, that they’re not doing a great job of hiding from ghosts in here—after all, grian is being rather loud—but honestly, joel doesn’t think he’s ever given less of a shit about anything. especially when grian breaks away to press a kiss on joel's collarbone, and suddenly, nothing else in the world has ever mattered more than this moment right here. alright- maybe they’re both being loud now, but grian is giggling to himself and joel would do anything to keep him laughing like that. 

grian pulls back a little, and god, is he gorgeous. joel can’t understand what it is that's making grian blush so much, when it occurs to him that- yeah, he’s really just staring at him, isn’t he? "joel- you can'tlook at me like that."

"why not?" joel says, feigning innocence as he glances at grian's lips. he'd like to say it's an intentional tease, but honestly, joel has very little self control right now, and he just really wants to kiss grian again. 

"because i’ve- i’ve spent so long trying to pretend i don’t- don’t love you, and now you’re just- you’re undoing all the work i’ve done!" grian says, running a hand through his hair, and joel can’t help himself- he just has to watch. "you’re- you’re doing it again!"

joel grins, a little dazed. "okay, but- i mean, have you seen yourself?" he reaches a hand up to trace the outline of grian's face. "and i've been- i’ve had to try to ignore that, every bloody day! i’m allowed a bit of staring time."

grian gives a flustered little huff, but he doesn't protest as joel cups his cheek. "you’re an idiot." he says, but the way he’s looking at joel kind of ruins his point. it also is maybe gonna make joel go insane, but that's- that's irrelevant. 

"yeah, but- i mean, i think i heard you say that you love me?" joel grins as grian rolls his eyes- and realises just how well the colour does in fact match with the chipping polish on his nails. "is that- is that right?"

grian leans forward a little, and joel has butterflies. he hums teasingly. "i dunno- not sure i said that, really." before joel has time to prepare, he gives him a quick peck on the lips, clearly proud of himself when he pulls back to see how much joel is undoubtedly blushing. "you’re pretty cute, though." he winks. "i might be convin-"

it's joel's turn to interrupt with a kiss, he decides, and honestly, why haven't they been doing this the whole time? grian melts into him, and joel rubs a thumb across his cheek, and grian bites at his lip like he just knows how much joel has wanted him to do that for fucking months. maybe he does- maybe he’s finally put two and two together and figured out just how much joel has been wanting him all this time. 

"you know," joel says against grian's lips, relishing in the way grian pushes closer as he speaks. "i think the ghost has gone."

"shut the fuck up." grian practically hisses, and joel doesn’t have time to laugh before the gap is once again closed, and all that matters is their hands on one another, skin pressed against skin in the most intoxicating way. joel doesn’t ever want to stop.

unfortunately- he kind of has to, because jimmy has chosen exactly this moment to burst into the stupid cupboard with his stupid camera, and all three of them freeze. 

"uh." jimmy blinks at them, apparently processing. "oh. oh- finally!" he laughs, and joel feels his face burning. "oh my god, you took so long!"

"i don’t know about you babe, but i’m ready to punch him." grian says, far calmer than what joel would expect considering the situation they've found themselves- wait, did he just call him babe?

as joel is losing his mind over this fact, grian has stood up and jimmy has run away, still laughing gleefully. "he’s totally gonna tell lizzie." grian sighs, turning around again. "i- joel? you okay?"

joel clears his throat, doing his best to seem even remotely normal. "yeah- yep, just- all good." he pushes himself to his feet, trying to pretend to himself that he’s not going to be thinking about grian calling him babe for literally the rest of his life. "that- nothing to worry-"

grian gasps, clearly overjoyed about something- yeah, he’s definitely noticed. oh god. "it's 'cause i called you babe, isn’t it?"

"um. no?" joel attempts, knowing his face is beet red. grian cackles in delight, and- y’know, maybe it's worth the embarrassment to see him laugh like that. 

"aw- well, c'mon babe, we've got some ghosts to hunt." grian takes joel's hand, and he can't help the smile that worms its way onto his face. 

joel gives grian's hand a squeeze, and his teasing grin softens into something so incredibly fond, it makes joel's head spin. "ghosts aren't real." grian just scoffs. 

"you’re not real."

[cyanide-siren]

please, don't go there

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You were hunting with Dean and Sam for years, until you died in the hands of a demon. You were also a girl Dean fell in love with. Now, Dean has a chance to travel back in time where he meets you, who has no idea who Dean is.

Warnings: Angst, angst, it's just sad.

☆☆

Watching you die was one of the most traumatic moments of Dean's life – and he had gone through a lot.

He could still feel your warm blood covering his hands as he tried to stop your stomach from bleeding, but the wound was too severe to get fixed without a doctor.

For the next several weeks, every time Dean got his hands wet, all he could imagine was your blood on his skin. Every time he had to look down to make sure it wasn't blood. At least not your blood.

It was his fault you died. Sam tried to insist that there was nothing Dean could have done but Dean would blame himself for the rest of his life for that one moment.

He had gone that day over again and again in his mind.

If you had stayed at the motel, you'd be alive.

If you hadn't walked through that door at that second, you'd be alive.

If you hadn't done this and that, you'd be alive.

So many things could have prevented your fate. You could be here with him, in his arms – but you weren't. Instead, your corpse was buried under dirt. Dean had dug a grave for the love of his life.

The only one he had left anymore was Sam, everyone else were gone.

"I will never let you forget about that," you had laughed. "I'll tell that to everyone in the retirement home we'll be stuck in if our kids won't take care of us when we're old."

Oh what a joy would it have been to able to grow old with you. Have you by his side for the rest of his life, but you were gone before your life together with him had even properly started. See your hair turn grey and hands become wrinkly. Dean would keep saying how pretty you still looked, even though you were growing old. You'd still be the most beautiful girl he knew.

That brings him to this day, when the angels had transported him back in time and he was sitting on a bench at a park. They didn't send him there because of you, no – you only happened to be in the same area since this was the place you had grown up in with your family.

15 years to the past.

Dean's heart stopped for a moment when he saw a girl who he didn't have to look more than once to recognize. He clenched his jaw, feeling his throat becoming tighter and tears prickling into his eyes which he forced back in by blinking rapidly.

You. Although, you did look very different, being just 14 years old. You had insisted that Dean would never see pictures of you from your teenage years, embarrassed of your style back then, but Dean didn't see anything in you to be embarrassed about.

You were beautiful and so full of life with that wide smile and bright eyes. You were walking with two of your friends, talking about something which made you laugh. God, how much Dean missed that laugh.

You were holding a bouquet of roses in your hands, most likely taking them home for your mother, since today happened to be the Mother's Day. Personally, you had always disliked roses. Another thing Dean regretted was that he hadn't bought you flowers often enough. He should have bought you flowers at least once or twice a week, but he hadn't.

Dean could never look at any type of flowers anymore without thinking of the lilies and orchids he had laid on top of your grave.

Dean was so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized someone had approached him.

"Excuse me, sir," you said, startling Dean out of his short trance.

"Huh?"

"Did you drop this?" you asked, somehow holding his wallet in your hand. For a moment, Dean's blood ran cold and heart stopped for a second. Dean touched every pocket on him and, indeed, there was no wallet on him.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," Dean nervously chuckled, partly to the fact that you had called him 'sir', which you had never done before. He took the wallet from you, quickly putting it back into his pocket. How he had managed to lose it in the first place, was a mystery.

"Great, my day's one good job is done then," you said and smiled.

Seeing you this unbothered and satisfied, Dean could just assume that you hadn't looked into his wallet and was extremely relieved for that. He wasn't ready to answer your questions of why he had a picture of you in his wallet, though an older version of you.

You were about to turn and walk away, but before thinking much, Dean stopped you.

"Sorry, um, hold on a second," Dean blurted out of his mouth before you'd manage to walk away from him. He was trying to form the words in his head into proper sentences that would sound somewhat logical to you. Fuck it. Of course it would sound anything else than logical. "This is going to sound weird but... I need you to do me a favor."

"A favor?" you asked, raising your eyebrows. "Now, what kind of a favor can a teenager do to a grown ass man?"

Dean couldn't help but smile, having missed that sass of yours so much.

"In 8 years, when you're going out with your friends on November 21st 2004... Don't go to a bar that night."

"What?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. Who was this man? A psychic or something? Fortune teller? No, fortune tellers didn't dress in jeans and leather jackets. Did they?

"Please, just. Go anywhere else than into a bar on that day," Dean insisted, looking extremely serious which almost made you worried and anxious, his gaze looking at you so intensely you'd almost think he wasn't joking.

"Why?"

"Because," Dean started, voice unstable and shaky, but the words got stuck in his throat. He had to turn his face away from you, feeling tears rise into his eyes.

"Sir, are you crying?" You took a cautious step closer to him, growing slightly worried of this stranger.

Sir. No 'love', 'honey', 'darling' – nothing. He'd never hear you to call him with any of those nicknames anymore. He had hated most of them at the time, but now he'd do anything to hear them again, even once.

"Promise me," Dean repeated with pleading eyes. "November 21st 2004. Whatever plans you have that day, change them."

"But-"

"Promise me. It's the only thing i ask you to do," Dean insisted, growing desperate.

"Okay, okay. I promise," you said, brows furrowed in confusion.

If you never met Dean Winchester in the first place, he wouldn't be dragging you into the mess of his life and you'd be alive. Even if you would never be a part of his life.

You'd be alive and happy. You would never start hunting demons and risk your life every single time you went for a hunt. You'd get married and have a family if you wished so. Get married to someone else than Dean and have someone else's kids. Dean was supposed to marry you, but he should be used to having good things ripped away from him.

Dean wasn't meant to settle down with anyone, he was supposed to save people so they could live their lives happy and well.

When Dean turned away and left, you watched after him for a while, wondering who the hell that man was and what was so special of your 22nd birthday.

"Y/N? Who was that?" your friend asked.

"I don't know," you mumbled and narrowed your eyes.

"He's kinda hot," she admitted and bit her lip to keep a smile from breaking her face in half.

"Ew, gross. He's old," you grimaced and wrinkled your nose.

He turned around one more time, just to see you still standing there. He gave you one more sad smile until permanently leaving you alone.

What a strange man.

☆☆

[hersaga]

No One Noticed

♥︎ Jung Wooyoung x F!Reader

“Come on, don’t leave me, it can’t be that easy, babe.”

♥︎ Synopsis: You were the first to notice how Wooyoung truly felt about himself. Once you did, he appreciated you so much more. You automatically became the emotional outlet he genuinely needed. To you, that meant you had to be prepared for any and everything. The night, Wooyoung came to your home in a panic you were glad you had prepared yourself.

♥︎ Genre: Fluff, Angst

♥︎ Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, depression

♥︎Divider credits to @kodaswrld

Hi guys, this will be my first offical story. I've been writing for a long time, but I've always been too scared to post. I just now finally got the confidence to share my work. I hope everyone enjoys reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for the support, and feel free to like and follow!!!!

When you first met Wooyoung, it was like the world had stopped. He was so sweet and so funny, he brought the absolute most joy to your life. You guys met through a mutual friend, Kang Yeosang. He was dying for the two of you to meet because he felt as if you were the same. You liked some of the same things, same places, so it wasn't so shocking that you clicked.

After a few months, you guys were starting to spend so much time together. When someone saw you, they automatically saw Wooyoung too. You guys were attached at the hip and everyone could see it. Even Yeosang felt as if he was being pushed aside, but he was glad it was easy for you to get along.

Maybe a year or so goes by and that's when you see something different in Wooyoung. You didn't know how to explain it at the time, but it was as if he had changed. He was still the happy Wooyoung you knew and loved but you could see the evident darkness in his eyes. They gave away so much it wasn't that hard to notice. You wanted to question if Yeosang knew about him having any kind of serious feelings. But going back and forth with yourself, you decided not to. They had been friends for years so you were pretty sure he would know something, right? Wrong.

Wooyoung hid his feelings quite well. He never wanted to bother people with his problems, so he never said anything. On the inside it was killing him but he never ever chose to show it. He felt as if it was better if it was just kept in the dark.

More time goes by, and you could no longer keep quiet about your suspicions. You were more than worried about Wooyoung. You grew up around a lot of people who suffered from depression, so you just wanted to be sure. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if something were to happen to him. Once you asked him about it, he didn't know how to react. He was a little shocked at the question because no one had ever asked. He thought no one noticed or even cared to notice.

It was a long night filled with tears and a lot of hugs. Wooyoung appreciated you so much more after the talk you had no idea. He now felt as if he could talk to someone, and he didn't have to go through it alone. You had no problem listening to his rants, or listening to him vent, you just wanted to be there for him as a whole.

You knew you were his outlet, so you had to prepare yourself for all the good and the bad.

Just like tonight...it was a cold and rainy night. You always enjoyed the rain, and no matter how late it was you enjoyed a hot cup of tea as well. Your day was filled with so much work, you just wanted to relax. You were off the next couple of days and you wanted to use those days to your advantage. It wasn't typical for you to get two off days in a row.

It was now reaching 12:01, but you didn't mind the time. You wanted to enjoy every moment of your relaxation regardless of the time.

Clicking through Netlix, you finally decided to rewatch It's Okay To Not Be Okay. The series always pulled you back for more, and you could now say it was one of your comfort shows. You started to watch the first episode, then the second, and then of course the third.

You were so wrapped up in the show, you didn't even hear the frantic knocking at your door. The knocking soon became louder, making you jump-splling some of the tea on your shirt. You had no clue who it could've been, especially at this time. Neither did you have a clue who would come all the way here in the pouring rain.

You paused the tv before you went to go see who it was. You were a little scared because usually everyone called before they came to your house. You set your mug on the kitchen counter, and then hesitantly opened the door. Once a soaking wet Wooyoung came into your view, all of your words were trapped in your throat. He's never just showed up to your house and that's when you became nervous.

"Oh my gosh Wooyoung!"

You could see that he looked troubled. He had this panic look on his face and he couldn't keep his arms still. You immediately took ahold one of his hands before pulling him into your home.

"Did you walk here?" You asked, "You know it's pouring out there, right?"

"I-I had to g-get to you. I was all alone at that house, and you know once I'm alone I start to think. I started to t-think so much that I wanted to do it. I wanted to do it Y/N!"

You jumped at the sudden yelling, not expecting him to. You knew what he was implying, and it tore you to pieces. You thought he was getting better, even though it wasn't much it was still something. He had talked about cutting only once to you. You never wanted to press the issue if there were more times, you didn't want to trigger him in any kind of way.

"Wooyoung, baby, you're going to have to breathe." You said calmly

His breathing was so short and labored, and you knew it wasn't going to help anything if you started to panic as well.

"I-I'm trying."

The scene in front of you was a little triggering since your little brother had panic attacks often. It took a lot to calm him down at first because none of your family knew what to do. You soon found the soothing sound of your voice could calm him down. Everything seemed so loud when he was having a panic attack, but your voice was like silk. It could calm hail in a storm if that was possible.

"Listen to my voice sweetheart." You said, "Only listen to my voice."

You saw how fast his chest rose up and down, quickly moving him to sit down. You totally forgot about him being soaking wet but that wasn't even the concern right now.

"I'm here with you Wooyoung, it's just me and you. Focus on your breathing, breathe in and out, but don't rush it or you'll go into panic again. I want you to slowly fill your lungs with as much air as you can, and then push it out slowly. Maybe even picture something calm like light wind blowing through a field of flowers."

Wooyoung always loved the sound of your voice. He followed your instructions closely, only listening to the sound of your voice. Instead of picturing a field of flowes, he pictured you. He pictured your smile, the sound of your laugh, your body, all he could see was you. You calmed his whole world, and that's why he appreciated you so much. You took the time to learn everything. You took the time to listen and respond with the proper advice. That's why he loved you so much, you cared and you noticed.

His breathing soon returned to normal, but once you guys finally made eye contact, he broke down. You brought him into the biggest hug, letting him get everything out. 'Better out than in' you would tell him. He clung to you for dear life because he felt as if you saved his. If he didn't think about you before he commited to such a big decision, he wouldn't be here.

"I'm sorry." He whispered

You shook your head, "Nonsense Woo."

He wiped his face, now feeling embarrassed he interrupted your night. You didn't mind any other time, and you definitely didn't care this time.

"C'mon." You said tapping his thigh, "Let's get you into some warm clothes and find you something to eat."

Wooyoung spent a lot of nights at your house so you had to make a lot of room for his stuff. Yeosang's stuff was also littered everywhere, making you question who's house it is.

You let him pick out his clothes, but he then turned to you timidly.

"C-Can I shower here?"

He reminded you of a child, one that needed permission for every normal thing like eating.

"Yes you can, and you can stay here too for however long. I don't want you going anywhere else until I know you're okay."

He nodded before walking to the bathroom. While he was in there, you decided to just put a couple pizzas in the oven. You didn't have a clue on what else he would want, plus this was simple.

You then decided to put something childish on the tv, hoping it would calm his mind down a little. You got a pair of glasses down from the cabinet, and an unopened bottle of wine. It maybe wasn't a good idea for him to drink, but you knew he would never pass up on one.

You waited patiently on the couch, not wanting to rush him. Even though you were patient, he didn't want to keep you waiting. He wanted to spend as much time with you tonight as possible.

He soon walked out of the bathroom, running his fingers through his freshly-washed hair. Wooyoung always looked so pretty to you, especially in his natural state. You could see that his hair was now long. Over the past couple months, he decided to just leave it alone and grow it. His hair was always styled a certain way so you could never really tell the length. You didn't really pay attention too much either.

"Disney Channel?" He asked with an eyebrow raised

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Don't act like you don't love watching all the old shows with me."

He let out a small laugh before the oven dinged.

"What are you making?"

"Pizza." You said, "Figured we could use something quick."

He nodded in agreement, not even remembering the last time he's had a slice of pizza. You cut both pizzas in eight before bringing both pans to the living room. Both of you knew you weren't going to eat it all, but no one felt like getting plates.

You both sat down on the floor and dug in.

As the seconds passed, Wooyoung began to think. Of course he appreciated you, but he appreciated Yeosang even more for introducing you two. He didn't know where he'd be if it wasn't for you. You were everything to him, but he had no clue if you felt the same. Sometimes you could be so hard to read. He never wanted to get the wrong idea for you simply being a friend, so he's never said anything.

"What's going on in that head of yours? Whatcha thinking about?" You asked breaking the silence

The voices on the tv were the only things you could hear. Wooyoung was a little nervous to talk, nervous to tell you how he actually felt about you. He wouldn't be able to deal if you rejected him...softly of course.

He then shrugged, "You."

"What about me?"

There was another fall of silence. You noticed Wooyoung was never the type of person to say how he felt all in one go. He actually thought before he spoke. He never wanted to say the wrong thing, especially not now.

"I don't know Y/N." He said, "It's hard to explain."

You chuckled lightly, "Remembered what I told you?"

He nodded before sighing, "Even if you cant explain still try to find words that'll help the other person understand."

"Exactly, so try for me."

Trying to explain was always so much harder than already having an explanation. It stressed him in ways that was unexplainable, and that's why he hated it.

"Of course you know how much I appreciate you. You've helped me with so much, and you're always there for me. You listen to me, care for me, I don't know what I'd do without you."

You soon put your pizza down giving him your full attention.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me Y/N. You noticed when no one else did, and that says a lot. That's when I realized you actually paid attention to me. You were so quick to open your door for me when you could've just slammed it in my face. I love you so much, and I know I wouldn't survive without you."

You sat there a little stunned before quickly taking a sip of your glass of wine. You had no clue what he was going to say, but you didn't expect him to say all of that.

"Too much?" He asked

You set the glass down before looking at him.

"W-Where is all of this coming from?"

He sighed, "The day I realized you were perfect for me was a few weeks after we met. It was too soon, so I knew not to say anything. I didn't want to make anything weird. The longer I knew you, the more time passed, my feelings only became stronger. I then thought it was just something stupid and I'd get over it. As you can see, I never did. Yeosang told me to just talk it out with you but I couldn't. I wanted to avoid the rejection."

It wasn't a funny matter, but you couldn't help but to smile. That smile soon turned into a laugh, making Wooyoung look at you weirdly. He didn't think any of this deserved to be laughed at.

"This is so funny Woo because I talked to Yeosang about this exact same thing. I thought you only saw me as a really good friend so I just left it alone."

It was hard for Yeosang to keep this information from the both of you. Two of his best friends liked each other and he couldn't say anything. He wanted you guys to just spit it out because it was killing him to see how you guys acted with each other, and only he knew the truth.

"No wonder he was being so weirdly calm when I talked to him." Wooyoung said

"That's Yeosang for you."

A couple glasses of wine later, and the two of you were a little tipsy. You guys talked more about how you felt, and how things were going to be moving forward. Wooyoung was glad he finally got everything off of his chest. He could now do everything he's always wanted to.

"I didn't think this night was going to end like this." You said

You and Wooyoung were now cuddled up in your bed. He insisted you guys slept together, you know-to get used to it. The two of you were facing each other. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, feeling he'd lose you if he was to let go. Your fingers found their way to his arms soon finding their way to his jawline, tracing it. His eyes never left you, soon falling to your lips. He's dreamed about tasting them, knowing they'd taste sweet due to the fruity chapstick you always wore.

"Where does it go from here?" You asked, "I don't want to ruin anything."

Wooyoung only shook his head before bringing you closer, "You could never ruin anything. I've been waiting for the moment you can finally be mine. I'm sorry about earlier, but I hope I made it up to you."

You could only laugh, "This your way of making it up to me?"

He shrugged, "We could do other things."

"Easy Mr. Jung."

He joined in on your laughing before a yawn escaped your mouth. Neither one of you knew what time it was coming to be, forgetting it was already passed late. Another yawn came, making Wooyoung let out one.

You guys knew you needed to sleep, you needed to prepare to tell Yeosang everything that happened.

Even though he hated it, he let your waist go. You palmed his right cheek before you pecked his lips twice.

"I know I never say it as much, but I love you too Wooyoung."

He chuckled before he pecked your lips once more, "Get some sleep sweetheart."

[trombonesinspace]

In defense of book!Gurathin

So, I haven’t seen the Murderbot show so far, but I’ve been reading through the tag to see what other people think of it.

And I’m noticing something that kind of baffles me—the way people are talking about Gurathin. I’ve seen show!Gurathin described as pathetic, cringe, hostile, menacing (or trying and failing to be menacing), and generally a loser…by people who also say he’s perfect, spot-on, just like the book.

And of course, different people will interpret a character in different ways. But I’m just…really? That’s what you think he was like in the book?

Because here’s how I see him. Early on in All Systems Red, we’re told that he is less talkative than the rest of PresAux, but he seems to like them and they clearly like him. He is described as having a small, quiet smile. An introvert, cool!

As the book goes on, he is shown to be more cynical/skeptical/suspicious than the rest of the team. But there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. After all, SecUnit definitely thinks that various members of PresAux are naive, due to living outside the corporation rim.

Gurathin is also shown to be intelligent and competent, and even SecUnit calls him brave.

The trouble is, of course, that Gurathin becomes an antagonist to SecUnit, our beloved protagonist. And because it’s SecUnit itself who is describing all their interactions, that pre-disposes the reader to dislike him.

But look at the situation. The survey has been forced to take along a corporate-branded security consultant that they did not want, that (they think) must obey the company’s orders. Gurathin notices some anomalies in that consultant, amid mounting evidence that their survey mission is being sabotaged.

Of course he suspects SecUnit.

The fact that he goes into its personal systems and reads its logs while it’s shut down is absolutely an invasion of privacy. But a) by this point they know the DeltFall group was murdered, and he’s trying to make sure that doesn’t happen to PresAux, and b) I think he would have done the same thing if the unwanted corporate security consultant had been human. He would have snooped into whatever private information was available, because he doesn’t trust the company, and because all their lives are in danger.

Violating someone’s privacy to keep them all alive is…maybe not great? But I don’t think it means that he doesn’t see SecUnit as a person. And it’s also no worse than every morally grey character ever who does the questionable but necessary thing that the other members of the team wouldn’t.

And what he finds out is a real oh shit moment: this SecUnit has a non-functional governor module, and it has killed clients in the past. The first fact means it doesn’t have to follow company orders after all, but the second fact kind of outweighs that.

Maybe he should have been more convinced by SecUnit risking itself to keep them all alive, when it didn’t have to—that’s a pretty solid argument in its favor.

But on the other hand, he saw SecUnit’s abject horror when Mensah invited it to hang out in the crew area. He’s experienced the way SecUnit avoids looking at or talking to anyone unless circumstances make it necessary. To someone who is already suspicious, SecUnit’s outward presentation must look like someone who doesn’t care about its clients at all. Especially given, you know, the murder.

Ultimately, though, when the rest of the group decides to trust SecUnit, he doesn’t try to stop them. He just…keeps a watchful eye out. Takes the opportunity to test it for outside influence, questions it about it’s functioning, asking if it blames humans for how it’s been treated. Seeking data to prove or disprove a hypothesis, like the scientist he is.

And he also works with SecUnit despite his misgivings, helping it analyze the data from the drones, and telling it (correctly) where the weak point is in its plan to launch the beacon.

The reader, of course, sees all this through SecUnit’s eyes, so it’s easy to accept all of its opinions as fact. But the fandom seems happy to acknowledge that SecUnit is an unreliable narrator in other areas of the story, so why accept its perspective without question when it comes to Gurathin?

I think it’s fair to say that he’s more abrasive than strictly necessary in his interactions with SecUnit. A bit of an asshole, sure. But essentially a smart, competent scientist, who likes and is liked by his colleagues, like the rest of PresAux. Not a pathetic, cringe, wet cat of a man, or a hostile, malevolent weirdo.

Am I the only one reading him this way? Does everyone else really think book!Gurathin is…like that?

To be clear, I have no problem with people liking show!Gurathin. Again, I have not seen the show, and obviously it’s too soon to say how he’ll develop over the course of the season. But the way I’m seeing show!Gurathin described after the first two episodes really does not match my reading of the book. And it doesn’t have to—I’m just surprised by how many people are saying he’s book-accurate.

Honestly, maybe I just wanted an excuse to dive into the character, and look past SecUnit’s (understandably!) jaundiced opinion of him. I actually have more thoughts about how the Gurathin-SecUnit dynamic develops in later books, but I think I’ll write that up separately so this post doesn’t get any longer!

[demonicsuffrage]

If you do still happen to have any Clark/ Bruce bodyswap ideas rotating in your head. This is a sign to reveal them to the masses (read: I fsbking. Love them . And would be incredibly happy to hear any others you have)

Like for instance what if they have to go off and superhero with others? (Not including their families I mean). Say if there's suddenly the yearly alien invasion that the JL needs to get together to beat. Would they be able to fight convincingly as each other or just kinda fumble given that they've not had that much time to develop the necessary skillset for this body? Would they be able to handle interacting with the JL as their counterpart, or would Batman suddenly be an optimistic guy giving reassurance and pep talks to the team while Superman either broods in a corner or starts spouting intricate plans with eighty contingencies? And what if one of them happens to in some way come into contact with Diana's lassoo- will they be able to keep the ruse intact or is the game immediately up?

(I'm also wagering that a good few members of the JL have taken some sort of photos/ videos of the things they do for blackmail purposes)

So uh. As you may be able to tell I very much enjoyed this concept. There are worms wriggling about in my brain and they all whisper Clark and Bruce's names

Wait that opens up an entirely new facet of this scenario, and I love it, thank you anon

I think in the body swap scenario, and this isn't me biased towards batman, i love both him and clark equally, but Bruce would be able to cruise by with his new superpowers, easily. Clark would be the one who would be struggling a little.

Bruce has extensive files all over them, he's human, he's observant, he knows how Clark operates. And he's pretty adaptable too, so he'd be terrifying.

He'd obviously have to figure out minor kinks on how to better control his powers, but he's talked and trained with clark long enough to do how to do that. Bruce never had any powers, that was never his usp, and now that he does, he's like the most overpowered character in the verse. He'd absolutely I think, if no one in the league knows about it, imitate Clark's cheery attitude, Bruce would just view it as putting on another mask like he does for Brucie Wayne. Martian manhunter knows but he doesn't tell anyone, because he's Bruce's best friend and he supports his friend

Now, that's not to say obviously, that clark would be weak or that everything heroic about him is his powers, but now he's in a more fragile body, obviously he's super intelligent and would be able to adapt real fast too. But the key difference is that while Bruce is simply gaining something, Clark is the one losing his powers. He'd also, absolutely, enjoy imitating Bruce, he's a journalist after all, he knows how to pretend.

I think they're obsessed(affectionate) enough with each other that they'd be able to emulate each other pretty well! Plus, clark now gets the added benefit of a gaggle of robins behind him and Bruce now has to walk alone, so in that way, the gain loss is the opposite

I don't really know enough about like the lasso to really say anything about that but does it like excuse loopholes? Because if it does then technically, they are clark and bruce!

Omggg this post would be too long if I talked about the reactions of the JL too, I think I'll make another post about those scenarios, it'd be so funny

There's this one panel I remember in which clark is insulting Gotham and Bruce is insulting metropolis, that will definitely, definitely be their reactions when they have to spend extended amounts of time there

I get those brain worms from time to time too, they're eating up my brain now, I think I've been convinced to make like atleast two more posts about this

Thank you for the ask!

[unicyclehippo]

prompt: spring, stars, heartbeat for yelena

please and thank you ♥️

habits are a dangerous thing. the repetition, the consistency, these are things that make you easier to kill. do you take your coffee at the same shop every day? do you attend a gym class with a spin instructor with a medically bright smile who insists on wearing that clinging fabric? do you take your dog for a walk every afternoon the moment you get home from work and wear enormous head phones and don’t practice a second of situational awareness?

this is what kate bishop does.

she hasn’t been killed yet—the taxi nearly managed it just now and kate is yelling back at them about traffic lights and right of way, even as she drags lucky to the next kerb—but it’s only a matter of time, probably.

yelena’s phone buzzes.

walk?? now? park?? lucky says PLEASE

the problem is that yelena has some interest in keeping kate alive. and that means that kate’s habits have become yelena’s habits.

lucky cannot speak. he is a dog

if u say so … these eyes beg to differ

a photo of lucky comes through a second later. he’s literally begging, paw up on kate’s knee. it’s not an old photo—yelena is watching them, and watched kate take the photo. now, kate bends low to kiss him on the head and rewards him for posing. he spins and jumps in the air for a treat. a happy bark splits the cool air.

yelena wants to pat him.

she wants to walk next to kate through the small park and be as unconcerned about kate’s conspicuous checkered coat as kate must be, since she continues to wear it every day without fail.

her phone rings. kate, of course.

yelena picks up.

‘it’s actually nuts that you didn’t say anything about how cute he is,’ kate begins heatedly. it’s not the first time she’s done this—for someone who likes talking as much as kate does, arguing for the sake of it is also very fun—but there’s a rough edge to it that alerts yelena to something she’s missed in her surveillance.

‘why have you been crying?’

‘what? crying? that’s - that’s not a thing i would do,’ kate lies, badly, and continues to make it worse. ‘i don’t even know how to do that. and nothing ever hurts my feelings.’

‘wow.’

‘yeah.’

‘so last week when you stubbed your toe—‘

‘okay do you have my place bugged?’

‘—and you cried for like twenty minutes and then made yourself a root beer float because you deserved it, that was actually not you.’

‘is it just a listening device? or a camera? you gotta know how creepy that is. right?’

‘oh!’ yelena gasps. ‘creepy? i am just looking out for my good friend—‘

‘you consider us good friends?’

‘—lucky.’

‘you’re a bitch,’ kate tells her flatly.

yelena laughs.

across the park, she sees kate smile. then frown, head tilting. when kate glances up and around the park so very casually, yelena is well hidden behind a tree. also, very casually.

‘is there a threat i should know about? is there a bounty on my head?’

‘do not sound excited about that,’ yelena scolds her. ‘and no. but you must always be prepared.’

‘okay. endless surveillance and intrusion into the sanctuary that was my home. fun! can’t i get something out of this too?’

‘you get black widow protection. for free. im not cheap, kate bishop.’

‘um, pass. what about you walk my dog for me?’

yelena snorts. she crosses behind the next few trees as kate and lucky wander up the path. ‘no. it is good for you to get out of your apartment. you are like a hermit. it is strange - you are young and rich and pretty. you should be going out more, shouldn’t you?’

‘first of all, love the flattery. second of all, who are you, my mom? i go out plenty. i went on a date just last night.’

‘is that who made you cry?’

ahead of her, kate’s head tilts the other way. the sound of her neck cracking is very faint along the phone line but the visual is unmistakable. kate slips a hand into a big pocket of her coat and feeds lucky another treat.

‘no,’ she says. it sounds honest enough but yelena still plans on finding out who it was. ‘it was nice.’

‘nice.’

‘yeah. nice.’

‘you sound very enthused.’

‘not every date is first kiss fireworks and stars behind your eyes. it was just nice.’

‘are you seeing him again?’

‘her,’ kate corrects. ‘and i don’t think so.’

her.

yelena knows, of course, that kate does not seem to have a preference when it comes to who she admires. she did think there was a slight to significant preference toward men when it came to actually dating, or inviting them to her bed, because in the two months since christmas kate has entertained three sexual partners and all of them have been men.

this date being just nice—is that confirmation of this preference or was it simply a boring date? an odd feeling stings the roof of her mouth, makes her lips and gums fuzzy, her tongue taste sharp and metallic. her heartbeat picks up. poison is her first guess but there are no additional symptoms and it seems unlikely. anger is her second, but she knows how anger burns in her body and this isn’t that.

‘yelena?’

‘what?’ she asks, tone sharp.

‘whoa! what’s with the tone?’ kate takes a second and comes to the wrong conclusion. tone smooth and bland as plastic, she says, ‘i can date a woman if i want.’

yelena rolls her eyes. ‘of course you can. i do not have an issue with that.’ it feels like a lie but it isn’t. it has never been an issue before.

‘oh. sorry. i guess i — you sounded weird. i thought maybe you didn’t know.’

‘that women can date?’

‘that i do,’ kate shrugs. she’s confident in this as she is in most things, and yelena really doesn’t think it could be a problem.

leaning against the new tree she is hiding behind, yelena admires kate for a second—tall and lean and broad of shoulder. her hair is down this afternoon. a brisk wind blows strands in front of her face. every time she pushes them back, they pull free again and eventually kate seems to give up. lucky stares up at her with the sort of devotion and need for guidance that sailors and scouts once held for the stars.

she’s grown, yelena thinks. in two months, kate has taken many steps forward. into herself. into this hero she wants to be. all the work hasn’t changed her—the brilliance has been there from the start. it only sharpens the image.

objectively, kate would make a fine date. objectively, that is true no matter the gender of the other participant. and yet. it annoys her.

‘no, it’s fine,’ yelena says finally.

kate snorts. ‘okay.’

‘it is! you think i am shocked by this? i’m not. you have a crush the size of the moon on that coffee girl—‘

‘whoa! pump the brakes, i don’t have a crush on her!’

‘so you tip one hundred per cent to everyone and you always blush and open your coat so people can see the cute outfit you picked for work.’

kate swears at her. ‘stalking is also not cool, yelena.’ she hesitates. then, ‘you’re following me right now, aren’t you?’

‘no.’

‘i knew i heard your laugh. you’re such a creep. you know you can just come and join me, right? it’ll be fun. i’ll buy you a hot dog.’

yelena considers her offer for a moment. she hangs up and watches kate’s shoulders slump. she murmurs something to lucky, who couldn’t care less, nose buried in a clump of grass. she lets him sniff for way too long, attention fixed on her phone, thoughtful.

when lucky tries to eat a chips packet, kate finally moves them away, turning back on the path to walk the way they had come. she jolts when she sees yelena walking towards them.

‘yelena!’ kate and lucky jog to meet her. kate leans close like she wants to hug her but stops and instead smiles with all the force she can muster, nose crinkling, eyes shining. ‘hey, creeper. we need to work on your phone etiquette. most people say they’re on their way, or at least good bye—‘

kate stops talking. either because yelena rolls her eyes expertly or because she goes down to one knee to pat lucky.

‘why do you go straight to complaining, hm? it’s like you are not even happy to see me. lucky is happy to see me. hello, good boy.’

‘i’m happy to see you.’ kate’s smile wobbles a little at the edges, like she’s nervous. but her tone, her eyes, are earnest and sweet.

yelena doesn’t want her to be nervous. she smiles back and stands, nudges her shoulder into kate’s side. ‘where are these hot dogs? i want two. surveillance is hungry work.’

[drabbles-mc]

Invisible Silver Linings (5/7)

Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader

Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations

Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.

Chapter Index

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: it wouldn't be Thunderbolts* fanfiction without some suffering on Bob's part, i hate to say

The lights came back on again. Food got dropped off. You heard the sound of a door scraping against the floor as it opened. The only reason you knew it was Bob that was being taken was because he was talking loud enough as they took him out for you to hear him. He wasn't saying anything of consequence, but you knew from his tone that he was just trying to let you know that they were taking him somewhere. You wondered if that meant they were going to come for you soon too.

You got your answer a little while later. You were pacing around your room when they opened your door. It was a different woman than before, but she had the same outfit and clipboard. She stood in the gap of your doorway and watched you closely as you walked up to her.

“Cutting me loose, or?”

She motioned for you to step out. “We're moving onto the next phase of the trial, as long as you're still interested.”

You nodded, more out of desperation to be done with this entire excursion than anything else. When you'd signed on for this, you figured they'd stick a needle in you, or give you a few doses of pills to take and then keep you for a week or so to see if it killed you or balanced you out. You hadn't been expecting to get thrown into all of this.

She had you follow her to an elevator, and your eyes went wide at how many stories were in the building that you'd been stuck in. They must've been keeping you all in some hellish maze of subbasements then, since no daylight got in. Seemedlike adding insult to injury, keeping you all in the dark when there were so many other places they could've put you.

You had to squint your eyes when the elevator doors opened back up again. You'd spent who knows how long in darkness and manufactured light, but the floor she'd brought you to seemed to be wall-to-wall windows. Sunlight streamed in and covered anything. It was blinding, but you almost didn’t want to shield your eyes. You didn’t know if they were going to toss you back down into the dark again.

Half of the room looked like a lab straight out of the movies. Vials and beakers and monitors with scans on them. The other half of the room was sectioned off into tiny boxes, all glass and curtains. Sort of like exam rooms in a doctor's office only no doctor in their right mind would agree to this setup for their patients. You could make out silhouettes in some, your first assurance that there were in fact other people still here besides you and Bob. You wondered if he was in one of the rooms. Maybe you two were neighbors again.

The woman pushed open the door to one of the makeshift exam rooms. “Have a seat.”

You looked at the chair that was more of a chair-bed-hybrid, just like the ones at your doctor's office. After a moment of standing in the doorway, you looked at her again. “You guys gonna knock me out again?”

Her face gave nothing away, not even an acknowledgment of what'd happened to you before. “They'll be with you shortly to answer all of your questions. Please, take a seat.”

There was no use in arguing, so you went into the room. You were just going to stand and pace until someone else came in, but as the woman lingered in the doorway you realized she wasn’t going to leave until you did as you were told. Hopping up onto the seat you'd been provided, you made unwavering eye contact with the woman until she stepped away and shut the door behind her. You didn’t miss the click of the lock.

Since you were alone, you got right back off the bed and went over towards the window. You pulled in a deep breath, like you were breathing the fresh air from outside and not the over-circulated air coming out of the vents in the building. You could almost trick your mind into thinking they were the same, though, as you stared out over the expanse of the city. So many buildings, so many people looking so tiny on the sidewalks beneath you. It was peaceful in its chaos. Beautiful. You subconsciously rubbed at the insides of your wrists. To think that you'd nearly given it all up because—

Your enlightenment moment was cut short by the sound of someone screaming. Peeling yourself away from the window, you went back towards the door to try and catch a glimpse of what was happening out there. The curtains stopped you from seeing into the other matchbox-sized rooms, but you saw white blurs of lab coats as people ran past your door, presumably, towards the screaming.

The yell was definitely one born out of pain. You cringed at the sound, hoping for the sake of whoever it was that it would be over soon. If what was happening to them was that painful, maybe they'd just pass out. Hopefully you would too, if this was what you had to look forward to in phase two of whatever the hell this was.

“Stop! Stop!” they yelled. “I don't wanna do this anymore!”

Once the person spoke, you knew immediately that it was Bob. Your heart tightened inside your chest, like a set of vines were choking it out. Pressing your face against the glass door, you desperately tried to get a look at whatever it was that was going on. You flattened your palms on the door, one on either side of your head, and pushed as you continued to try and see what was happening.

The yelling continued. Bob begging them to stop whatever it was that they were doing to him. Doctors and scientists yelling for assistance in a way that had you thinking whatever was happening they hadn’t seen yet before. Before you realized what you were doing, you were pounding on the door and begging to be let out.

It reached a crescendo of screaming and then it fell silent. Dread seeped through every vein and artery of your body as you tried to figure out what had happened. Did they kill him? Was whatever this was too much and it killed him? Did the pain finally knock him out? But then why weren't they saying anything either?

You started hitting the door harder. You screamed Bob's name and waited for the glass to break beneath the slamming of your fists. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you were forced to simply stand there and wait for whatever happened next. How did you always end up in this position? How did you always end up being so useless when people needed you the most?

Then the lights cut out. It was only for a second, two at most. But everything went dark. The brief power outage reset the lock on your door, so you eagerly ripped it open and launched yourself out into the expanse of the lab without a second thought. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone. The eerie part, though, was that nothing really seemed like it was out of place.

Your heart was thundering inside your chest as you took one tentative step after another. You called out for Bob but got no answer from him or anyone else. As you continued to walk, you glanced into each of the exam rooms. Most of them seemed untouched.

The second to last one gave you pause before you even got to it. The door was flung open, and black streaks were coming out of the doorway. Even on your best day, you wouldn't have been able to venture a guess as to what would case something like that.

“Bob?” You wished your voice wasn't so shaky.

Then you heard it. Footsteps. Slow and heavy. You stopped walking, holding your breath as you tried to gear up for whatever was about to happen. There was no more trying to predict the next move now—you just had to take them as they came.

The relief you felt when Bob stepped out of the exam room was indescribable. He looked like hell, his hair all a mess and tears on his face. If you thought that he'd looked scared before, it was nothing compared to the look in his eyes now. But it was him. He was alive. That was better than you had been preparing yourself for.

You didn’t even bother trying to stop the sob in your throat as you quickly went to collapse the distance between the two of you. “Thank god you're alright,” you said, managing a smile through the tears.

The deer-in-headlights look on his face intensified tenfold as you reached out for him. He held his hands up, palms facing you like he was surrendering. “Wait, wait don't—”

You'd hardly started to process what he was saying, or the fact that his hands and wrists were now an inky black color as you went to take his hands in yours. He tried to pull back away from you, but he wasn't fast enough. Your next kind words died halfway up your throat as your fingers brushed against his. Suddenly you were gone, and Bob was all alone once more.

He dropped to his knees just outside the room he'd been stuck in. Holding his hands out in front of him, he stared at his palms through his tears. Clenching his fists, he felt his fingernails bite into the meat of his palms. It didn't do anything to him, though, not like what it had done to everyone else, not like what it had done to you.

He stared at the shadow left behind where you had once stood. Reaching out, he pressed his fingertips to it, not knowing what he expected it to do. When nothing happened, he figured that it was fitting. That was about what he deserved.

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[killmeleatherface]

It Had To Be You Part 6

Dr Michael Robinavitch x F! Attending (OC)

This is part 6 to my ongoing series

Here’s the last part!

TW: fighting, medical setting, cheating, pretty tame, but let me know if there’s anything else.

—

1 Year Later

You could honestly never get over Robby asking you what he did, even if he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He called and texted and when he deemed that not enough, he showed up at your apartment with flowers and every food craving you had mentioned to him. It was sweet. He tried, he begged. You guys talked it out, really talked it out. You tried to date, tried to forget about the past, but neither of you could really get it together and stay together. It became more of something both of you deemed a chore than a happy, loving relationship. Between your extensive work schedules, your pregnancy, feigning forgiveness, and trying to keep going as “normal”, there was no going back to how it was before that fateful day. If you were talking, you were fighting. If you weren’t fighting, you were kissing and sometimes more. You guys couldn’t stand each others guts most days, but you’d be willing to bet you’d be sharing a bed in the nights. No talking, no fighting, no awkwardness, just silence and ecstasy, where Michael took control of the best parts and brought it out of each other.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to be newlyweds savoring having the same last night and an impending new addition. You were supposed to be making the house you were going to buy into a home for your new family of three. You were supposed to be shopping for matching baby clothes and doing a maternity shoot. You were supposed to spend nights on the couch hazily watching TV while Michael would talk to your belly.

“Is this really how we’re doing it, Andi?” Robby asks, sitting at your dining table with a cup of hot tea. You’re sitting next to him, feet propped up on pillows to help counteract your swelling.

“I’m almost 9 months, Robby. We should talk about how we’re gonna split time with her.” You say.

“Split time sounds like we’re divorced parents. It’s ugly. I don’t get why we can’t keep going like we have been.” He looks up from his mug at you.

What Robby meant was him coming to your place after work or on his days off and bringing take out, or cooking a meal. Sometimes he’d come with loaded bags of groceries or some baby clothes he’d “just happen to see.” You guys had painted your baby’s nursery and put together most of the furniture. You’d just had a baby shower at the hospital and her dresser was full of pink and pastel clothing. You were very closely mimicking a normal, happy newlywed life. However, neither of you had a ring and neither of you could form a full conversation without an argument. You loved each other so deeply it was scary, but you couldn’t decide on which detergent to use to wash a baby’s clothes. You couldn’t decide how much time both of you would take off. It was expected you’d take off twelve weeks and Robby would take off six. The thing is - in his world that meant three weeks or less. You couldn’t decide if you’d get a nanny and he would get a different one or you would share, or if she would go to the hospital daycare. You’re sure you would’ve argued about every point of the nursery in your home if your mom hadn’t surprised you with a fully furnished nursery and an interior designer to “bring your new place to life” as the email with Angela Simon’s, of Simon’s Designs cc’d in said.

After that party, you had decided through many conversations that the stress of what was the status of you two wasn’t worth it and decided to be co parents. Co parents were two people who shared a child and shared time with said child, but live in separate houses and were not together. That had turned into coparents who sometimes slept in the same bed and sometimes woke up with one of the others lips on their neck.

“Robby, we can’t. Our kid shouldn’t see their parents like us. We’re not even together, it’ll be confusing.” You offer.

He wants to say something, but can’t, so he wraps his hands around the mug.

“What if we were together?” He finally asks.

“Michael, don’t. Not now.” You warn.

“I still have the ring, I’ve kept it. But if that’s weird, I’ll get you another one. Whatever you want.” He says fast.

“It’s not that and you know it.” You put your feet down on the ground.

He pauses. “I know.”

“We just can’t work as more than coparents right now. Between my pregnancy hormones, both of our exhaustions, and the impending baby, all we do is fight when we’re more than that.” You offer.

“You know I love you , right? This is better for all of us.” You continue.

“I love you too.” He offers with a half smile.

Now here you were with six month Marilou Jane, named after both of your grandmothers, and you never got it together. You’ve never had another conversation about it since, just silently both agreed that you wouldn’t cross another line. Robby started staying at his own place and stopped showing up at yours. You were respecting each others boundaries, or at least that’s what you convinced yourself. You didn’t want to admit it but you missed his presence in your space. Now the only time he’d come to your place was to drop MJ off in her car seat at the door, give both of you cheek kisses and leave. It was for the better, right?

“How’s my favorite niece doing?” Jack sidles up to you.

“She’s doing great, fat and happy. What more could a baby want?” You say with a smile.

“And how’s my favorite best friends, what do you guys say, ‘co-partners?’” Jack says with his hands in the air in air quotes.

“Coparents. We’re coparenting for Marilou.” You say.

“That’s right. How’s that going?” Jack asks, as if Robby hasn’t told him anything. He just wants to hear your side so he can report back to the yearning best friend.

“It’s dandy, Dr. Abbot. How can I help you, really?” You annoyingly reply.

“Hey, can’t I have some friendly banter with a fellow coworker to keep the vibes going?”

“Vibes? Where’d you learn the word vibes old man?” You joke.

He just smiles and shakes his head.

“Nowhere.”

You smile back at Jack and push off the counter, heading towards the lockers. You’re thinking about your sweet friend’s influencer on the much older Jack Abbot and suddenly become very happy for her. Unfortunately, that’s very short lived.

As you cross the corner you want to vomit because of the intensity of Deja vu. Heather and Robby are again in a heated conversation. They’re throwing their hands up and in each others face. You can’t take it. You can’t bear to see this again.

So you run. That’s what you do best.

—

7 Hours Later

You had just finished feeding MJ her dinner of mashed bananas when the doorbell rang.

You hadn’t been expecting anyone, but when you open the door you’re shocked for a whole other reason. Robby is standing there, a dozen of your favorite flowers and a brown bag from your favorite Chinese food place.

“Hi.” He says.

Hi?” You reply.

“Can I come in?” He asks.

You almost don’t want him to, but you relent and step aside.

“Listen, I know I look crazy but I just..I just wanted to get your favorite things, okay? I had to. I know I’m coming off a double, but I saw you today.” He starts.

“Well yeah we work at the same hospital. Of course you saw me today.” MJ babbles in the background.

“Hi baby.” He turns and smiles at his daughter. He goes over and pops a kiss on the top of her dark haired head and then immediately walks back over to you.

“No. I’m not stating the obvious here. I saw you leave when me and Heather were talking. And I know what you’re thinking-“ he says.

“Do you?” You ask.

“You think that Heather and I have started something and you’re wrong. Actually so dead wrong it’s hilarious.” He chuckles softly.

Why is he mocking you?

“Haha, Michael. Real funny. What’s the point here?” You say.

“The point is you didn’t see what really was happening. We were fighting over a patient because I disagreed with her decision of care. Heather was insisting I was wrong. You came in about the part just before she realized we couldn’t work together anymore.”

“What? Me and you? Why?” You ask, eyes wide.

“No. Stop. Of course not. Heather and I.” He starts.

“She decided she can’t work in the same department as me anymore. We can’t be fair to each other or other patients and it’s unsafe. She’s leaving the hospital.” Robby says.

“Heather is leaving the Pitt?” You stop.

“Yes. That’s what you saw. Nothing more. I promise you that nothing beyond a working relationship and now not even that are going on with Heather.” He steps towards you.

“Okay Michael, I appreciate that. I believe you. You didn’t have to bring food and flowers over to apologize like that. But again, thank you. Do you want to stay and have some of this?” You start opening the brown bag and pulling out cartons of delicious smelling food.

“Andrea, look at me.” Robby commands.

It’s the first time he’s used your full government name in months. It’s also the first time he’s used anything close to the tone of the dominant one he uses in the bedroom and in most other areas of your previous happily cohabitation.

You pause. “Andrea, I said turn around and look at me now.”

You can’t help but somehow still instinctively turn around and face Robby.

“I’m not done talking and you’re going to listen.” He commands.

You make eye contact with him and motion to keep going in conversation. MJ babbles in the background, talking to the mashed fruit on her plate.

“I’m not doing this to apologize for what didn’t happen with Heather. I’m doing this because I need to. When I saw you leave I swear to you, my heart stopped. I saw us going back to square one and I was going to lose everything, again. I freaked out. I can’t do this anymore. I knew what you were thinking and I immediately wanted to run to you because I was so scared. Of course a call got in the way, but I ran as fast as I could getting this stuff on the way to come here and say this to you. I love you. I’m in love with you. I’m tired of this limbo. I’m over it. We have to jump, baby. You jump, I jump.” He reaches into his pocket.

“I know what we’ve said before, but we’re doing this.” He pulls out a velvet ring box and gets down on one knee.

“I know you’re not doing what I think you’re about to do, Michael. Don’t be crazy. We can’t. I mean I obviously love you too. I don’t know. There’s too much, we’ve tried, we can-” He stops you.

This is crazy. He’s crazy. He can’t be proposing to you. This is coming out of nowhere. It’s insane. Your heart can’t stop racing, you might pass out. MJ is still babbling in the background and Michael Robinavitch is proposing to you (again) while you’re in playboy bunny shorts and no bra. Maybe this is actually perfect?

“I know this seems like it’s coming out of nowhere, but baby, it’s not. We can’t deny this anymore. Let’s get married. Let’s move forward and take my last name. Finally.”

Talk about Deja vu, again.

“Oh, Michael.” You instantly start crying and fall to your knees to meet face to face with Robby.

“Please say yes. For the love of all that is good please just finally marry me.” He says.

You giggle and reply, “Yes. Sure, why not.” You joke. He grabs your face and kisses you.

“Are you sure? Really?” You ask.

“Baby, I’ve wanted to marry you since the day I met you. I’d still find someone to officially marry us right this second if that’s what it takes. I’m so stupidly in love with you and I’ll be sorry for hurting you for the rest of our lives. I’ll be the best version of myself I can for you, for both of you, just as long as you’re right by my side.”

Was this crazy? Or was this absolutely right? Everything you’d been through together had lead you to this point.

“You jump, I jump.” You say with a smile.

[beauty-and-passion]

Eurovision 2025: the problem you cannot ignore

So, another Eurovision comes to an end.

And it was the 69th, so you suppose it was probably filled with sexual jokes only. But nope, aside from a couple more sexual songs, it was quite tame overall.

Am I happy about that? Eeeh. Eurovision’s experience includes stupid, silly jokes, so the 69th edition should’ve given a free pass to all of that. But I suppose the main atmosphere wasn’t too much about joking.

At least, Switzerland did its best to try and keep the competition as neutral as possible - both in terms of jokes and politics. 

_____________

Rules for a good hosting

After last year’s hosting catastrophe, this year's was particularly good. I faced the first semi-final with fear in my eyes and heart, but it was way better than expected.

Please, allow me to explain why - oh and, Sweden: take notes, you might need them.

The Swiss are able to make fun of themselves, while telling us something about themselves. “Made in Switzerland” is a funny joke song, but it also taught me something new about Switzerland. Like that they invented LSD, which… makes both no sense and too much sense. But at least they’ve been able to tell me something about them that wasn’t just “Bo-hoo, we’re good for Eurovision only, stop blaming us for wanting to win, we’re good for nothing else”.

The Swiss made good interval acts and didn’t spend the entire time talking about Eurovision. Sure, they made sure to repeat that they were the birthplace of the competition, but didn’t talk just about that. They talked about the people behind the scenes, the fans, all stuff related to the competition. It wasn’t just a constant “greatest hits of the past compilation”.

They knew that last year, they lost to the people’s winner (Baby Lasagna), yet they invited him and gave him the chance to shine. They didn’t reduce his presence to 20 seconds into a joke song that insulted his country by saying: “Ah ah, we’re so much better than them at hosting, see how stupid their show would’ve been.”.

For the same reason, they invited Käärijä because they just knew that’s what people wanted and justice had to be made.

They didn’t try any stupid AI shit, by bringing up people who clearly didn’t want to participate: ABBA are not available? No problem, let’s make the whole stadium sing Waterloo. It wasn’t so hard.

Last but not least, they used only two hosts. Not three, not five, not twenty. Two competent hosts were more than enough.

And yes, I know Michelle Hunziker was in the finale - which was extremely weird for me, because I am used to seeing her on Italian TV. But she was mostly there to have an Italian speaker for the Italian side of Switzerland, so I suppose it’s fine.

In the end, the overall show and hosting were good. Nothing too life changing, nothing too shitty. Even the cringy moments are not so terrible: it’s mostly Hazel being awkward or having fun. Even the tongue thingy, that made me cringe in the first semi-final, when it came back in the final, it made me burst into a laugh. It was just too stupid to handle.

_____________

The list of robbed kings is endless

My Australian Milkshake Man. My beautiful, funky, shirtless guy didn’t make it into the final.

The ignominy. The treachery. 200% sure it was rigged, because he was too good for this world, his song was perfect Eurovision material and his voice was great.

But if we have to mourn all robbed kings and queens the list would be endless and Käärijä and Baby Lasagna would still be on top. So let’s do the only sensible thing possible, which is follow them, listen to their songs, support them and shower them with love.

They deserve it.

___________

Sweden and Estonia: A joke can take you far

This year proved that you don’t always have to bring a serious song to get a high vote. Sometimes, something funny, carefree and different is enough.

And I think it’s beautiful that a silly song about sauna and the espresso macchiato came respectively 4th and 3rd. They were fun and people enjoyed them. So, they rightfully voted for them.

I hope this teaches something important to all countries, especially Sweden: there’s no need to always bring Generic Pop Song #36 performed by Generic Good-Looking Person #47. You can bring this too: a song in a Swedish dialect about something typical of your country. Something you enjoy.

Heck, I’ve learned more about Sweden thanks to this song, than by following last year’s show! At least this song tells me you like saunas: all I learned last year was that you have nothing but Eurovision.

But Espresso Macchiato teaches us something important too, which is: Italy is always good. It doesn’t matter if it’s Italy’s own entry, a song about Italy performed by San Marino or a song about Italian food. When in doubt, resort to Italy.

Which is comforting, at least. Our economy and politics are shit, but at least we still have a good reputation about the important things in life, aka arts and food.

___________

An overall good winner

At the end of the day, JJ was a good winner. The song was good, his vocals were incredible and the mix of three genres (opera, pop and electro) was new and original.

Sure, the theme is stale and old (a song about love, groundbreaking), but the means he used were interesting. A mix of genres is always appreciated and opera singers are great in general. Also, this song wasn’t a boring ballad and this is always the most important thing.

___________

The elephant in the room, behind the scenes and center stage

I’m tired.

Trust me, I would do anything else, aside from talking about Israel. But it’s not me that is bringing politics into a “nOn-PoLitIcAl ShOw”.

Israel is literally buying its place in the contest. It did it for a while and we ignored it. Now it’s more insufferable than ever.

Last year, it was all about bullying the other artists and buying votes with ads spread all over the Internet. Now it’s bending the rules and buying votes with ads spread all over the Internet.

And if this enraged me at first, now it makes me sad.

Israel is acting like a rich kid, who desperately wants to be part of a group. It has money, so it thinks it can buy anything. And, in a way, it can: it can buy a spot in this group and stay close to the other kids and show to the world that, hey, look, it is part of the group! It is just like the other kids!

But the other kids don’t like having Israel around. So, Israel buys their silence. It uses money to get posters all over, which show it close to the other kids, as a member of their group. See? Israel is part of the group! And no one protests, because clearly others are fine with its presence! It is just like the other kids!

But the group has rules to follow. So, Israel bends them and closes the protester’s mouths. This way, no one can say Israel has done something wrong or that it doesn’t belong to the group. It is just like the other kids!

But the kids don’t want it and want to say it. So, Israel bends rules again, uses bots, tampers with votes. It tries everything it can, to show how much the other kids love it. See? They love Israel! Israel is part of their group! It’s just like, it is exactly like them. And everyone loves it and treats it well and applaud when it appears because Israel is so normal and so loved and so appreciated.

For me, that’s just pathetic. The kind of pathetic only someone alone, unloved and in the wrong can make you feel. The sadness of a spoiled kid, too weak and coward to take responsibility for its own actions. A kid who prefers to hide, to lie, to bend truth and rules. All because it’s too difficult to admit it’s in the wrong.

I don’t believe the public’s votes were the ones given. I am 95% sure they were all rigged. And maybe the same didn’t happen to the jury votes, because they’re less likely to be tampered with by a government that has its tendrils all over the EBU. A government that is so blind and ignorant, to give 12 points to the Greek song. A song about genocide. Yes, they’re this oblivious.

When we reached the final, I was holding my breath too. And I am so, so relieved Austria won. But as many others pointed out, when you end a competition not by feeling happy or satisfied, but relieved… well, then there’s something wrong.

And something wrong is here indeed. It’s the participation of a spoiled, oblivious nation, that uses money and bends rules, because it really REALLY wants to pretend to have a good reputation, when it has not.

The truth is different and you know that, Israel. You know your reputation is not as good as you pretend it to be. You know your 2nd place isn’t the result of an incredible appreciation from all over the world.

You brought that placement, just like you brought your place in Eurovision. Because, deep down, you know Europe doesn’t want you here. You know that it would never invite you on its own accord. You know that, if you remove the anti-booing technology and stop the protests, you won’t hear loud cheers but just complaints and protests.

And not even all the money in the world can buy you the love and appreciation you so desperately crave.

So please, please try again and spend even more money. Bend the rules, use propaganda, lie and bully the other innocent participants, use bots and rig the voting system. Do your worst, to shout down all the voices that don’t want you there at all. You might actually win, if you rig the competition well enough.

And once you’ll have won, please, tell me how does it feel. How does it feel, to hold a cold trophy and pretend not to see the disgust on the world’s face? How does it feel, to buy an empty, soulless victory? How does it feel, to know you are not loved at all?

Please support your favourite artists.

And when in doubt, donate to aid agencies.

[heystays]

Better than friends

Joe Hendry X Reader

You always believed dreams were best kept at arms length.

Your dream of becoming a WWE superstar- check

Your dream of walking down that ramp with your music blasting- done

Your dream of feeling the crowd chant your name- done, again and again.

But the one dream you never touched?

The one you thought that would never come true no matter how much you want it too?

Joe Hendry

From the moment you first met him on the independent scene- confident, funny, stupidly charismatic Joe- something sparked in you. Not just admiration. Not just a crush. Something deeper. Something that made your heart beat in your throat every time he smiled at you like you were the only person in the room.

You trained together. Travelled together. Debuted at different times, at different companies but stayed close through it all. And when he finally came over to WWE your love for him grew

But you kept your feeling buried- hidden in shared hotel rooms, private texts, long car rides filled with banter and unspoken tension. You didn't want to loose him. Because even just having him, in any form, felt like more than you deserved.

So you stayed his friend. And he stayed yours.

"Your teaming up with LA Knight?" Joe asked casually, leaning against a road case backstage.

You glanced up from your phone. "Yeah, its just for a quick mixed tag. Some playful banter, nothing serious."

His jaw ticked, though he played it off. "Right. Just for TV."

You frowned at the edge in his tone. "Is that a problem?"

"Nope." He pushed off the case, turning to walk away. "Why would it be?"

That was the start.

Over the next week, Joe become... distant. Shorter with you. Distant. Tense. He'd leave rooms when you entered. He stopped texting back like he used to. You told yourself not to take it personally, but your heart refused to listen.

The match with LA Knight aired that Friday. The crowd went wild for the segment- the chemistry, the flirting, the high energy banter. LA Knight even winked at you on camera and hoisted you up for a celebratory twirl after the win.

It was fun.

It was nothing.

But Joe didn't see it that way.

"Hey" Trinity said that night, catching you in the hallway near the catering area. "You okay?"

You gave her a tired smile, "Not really."

"You want to talk about it?"

You glanced around, then followed her into the women's locker room. As soon as the door closed, your shoulders sagged.

"I think I ruined everything," you admitted

"With Joe?"

You nodded. "I didn't even do anything. It was a match. A performance. But he's been cold ever since. And the thing is... I've had feelings for him for years, but I never said anything. I didn't want to ruin the friendship. I figured it was better to just keep him in my life in some way than not at all."

Trinity sat beside you, her voice soft. "That's a lot to carry."

"Yeah," you whispered. "And now I think I'm losing him anyway."

You didn't expect the confrontation to happen in a hallway after a promo rehearsal.

"Y/N."

You turned - and froze. Joe was standing there, arms crossed, looking like he hadn't slept.

"Can we talk."

You nodded slowly, following him to a quiet hallway near the production area. He didn't say anything right away. Just paced, hands clenched at his sides.

"I can't do this anymore," he finally said.

Your stomach dropped. "Do what?"

"This," he snapped. "Watching you with some other guys- pretending it doesn't get to me. Seeing you with LA Knight, laughing, letting him touch you- like that's normal? It's not normal. Not for me."

Your breath caught. "Joe..."

"I've been in love with you for so long, and I thought maybe I could handle just being your friend. But I can't. I can't keep pretending that watching you flirt with someone else doesn't rip me apart."

You stood there, stunned, heart hammering. "You're in love with me?"

He stepped closer, eyes burning into yours. "Yeah, Have been, since before either of us signed. But I didn't say anything because I was afraid I'd scare you off. That I would lose you."

A tear slid down your cheek. "I didn't say anything because I felt the same way. I didn't want to risk loosing you either."

Silence hung between you, thick and heavy.

And then you said, voice trembling, "You're being stupidly jealous."

He gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah, well. You make it really make it really hard not to be." You stepped forward now, tilting your face up. "You could've just told me."

"You're telling me now," he murmured.

You looked up at him, everything in you unravelling at once. "Then shut up and kiss me already."

And he did.

It was desperate, messy, full of years of pent up emotion- a kiss that said don't ever leave me again. His hands cradled your face like you were the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

You kissed him back like you were drowning and he was the air you needed.

Later that night, the hotel room was dark and warm, the bed tangled with sheets as you lay curled into Joe's chest. His arm was slung around your waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on your back.

Neither of you said anything for a long time.

"I meant what I said," he whispered. "I don't want anyone else touching you. Looking at you like that."

You smiled softly, cheek pressed to his chest. "You don't have to be jealous. It's always been you."

He exhaled shakily, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "God, you have no idea how many times I imagined this."

"Me too," you murmured. "All those hotel nights, all those car rides... I used to dream about you holding me like this."

He pulled you closer. "I'm never letting go now."

You reached up and stroked his jaw. "You're mine Joe Hendry."

He grinned "say my name again."

You laughed. "You're ridiculous."

He rolled on top of you gently, r=bracing his weight on his forearms. "I'm in love with you, Y/N."

You reached up, brushing his hair from his face. "I'm in love with you too."

Then he dipped now and kissed you again- slower this time, deeper. Like he had all the time in the world.

And later, when the world quieted, and your limbs were tangled in sheets and each other, you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.

Warm. Safe. Finally his.

And you knew you wouldn't trade that moment- your moment- for anything in the world.

[eggcats]

Fragment from a fic I thought of, but based on my track record won't ever write 😭

Anyway, the basic concept is Vox is back with Alastor - still working with Valentino but slowly moving towards not being in a relationship with him anymore, but he's still unsure about his place in Alastor's afterlife and there still is the chance of him going back to Val/choosing Val instead.

(Also, Vox and Alastor are kinda moving towards having a kind of D/s relationship, mostly because Vox can't take care of himself and Alastor needs to make the television do simple things like eat and sleep and take breaks from work, so he just starts kind of telling Vox what to do/controlling what Vox does and Vox listens, but neither of them realizes what they're doing, lol)

The discussion of Val always choosing Angel over him comes up, and Vox tries to talk about it while a) not being "overly emotional" about it [bc who WOULDN'T choose Angel over him, anyway] and b) acting like it doesn't bother him.

Alastor's response is basically:

"That insect's decision to choose someone forced to be his companion and to agree with whatever he wants over someone who is choosing him of his own FREE WILL simply proves how unintelligent and short-sighted he is", since "I have known the spider for only a brief time and even I can see that if, given the chance, he would gladly take the opportunity to do to Valentino what his counterparts do to moths on earth" and that, while he has nothing AGAINST Angel, Vox is clearly the superior choice for a partner for a) choosing Valentino ON HIS OWN, b) how powerful/conniving/clever he is, and c) simply being the one generally in charge of the company of which Valentino himself, depends on.

Alastor: It would be as if I abandoned my friendship with Rosie simply because I could have just as a close relationship with Husker, simply for owning him, and somehow not realizing that by doing such I'm handing him the opportunity to stab me in the back, hahaha!

Vox: I mean...this is different, tho. It's not like I could ever be in the studio or compare to Angel in that regard. (Vox is desperately convincing himself that Valentino saying this to him, and often, doesn’t hurt because it's not like it's not true)

Alastor: But of course not!

Vox: (hurt and trying not to show it that even Alastor, someone who doesn’t really get sexual attraction or what makes porn compelling, knows he'd never sell or be an attraction because of his looks)

Alastor, unaware of how Vox is taking what he just said: I mean, if he had tried I would have ripped him limb from limb and burned his studio to the ground, after all!

Vox (extremely wide-eyed): Uh. You'd do what.

Alastor: Obviously. I mean, someone like you should only be shared with those worthy of such things, and not the common disgusting masses of hell. Even Valentino himself is hardly worthy, but since you seemed determined that he should be, I supposed I should let him have the privilege as well.

Vox, having his entire world flipped entirely upside down: Did...did you tell him, this?

Alastor, laughing: But of course! It was obvious from your silly wide-eyed devotion that you'd have done anything that moth asked you to, and he could hardly be trusted with you so willing to please! So, I simply had a...conversation with him to let him know his proper place!

Alastor: It is disheartening that this is the method he used to keep you from wanting the studio, however I do find it absurd that you believed him, dear! Surely you are tuned in enough to Hell to know that someone as unique as you would surely attract attention when compared with the commonality of the rest of us!

Vox, suddenly remembering a brief time when Alastor had been missing for a few years that Val had "offered" to let Vox in the studio just to "see if perhaps he had anything to offer, after all", but Vox refusing because he knows the answer is that he didn't: Oh.

[perhapspluto]

okay so- i know a lot of people have been talking about 911 and queerbaiting and specifically whether or not this would even Really count as queerbaiting in this scenario.

so obviously queerbaiting is a specific and meaningful term- and it has to be to avoid everyone and their mother using it just because their ship didnt go canon. its a hint and "promise" of queerness and a refusal to deliver. destiel is, of course, the blueprint, but im gonna mostly use klance and voltron for my discussion in this point since i was #There and i dont really know enough about spn to have a meaningful conversation about it.

the thing about queer representation in media, particularly tv, is that it has changed dramatically in the past few decades. and such, queerbaiting has changed as well. it is significantly easier to get away with queerbaiting when the culture you are creating a show in is one that does not value queer people or queer stories. not to say that it doesnt happen today necessarily, but i think the tactics that were used in past examples of queerbaiting are still being used today, just in different ways.

using my little examples- both voltron and 911 have very similar sweeping problems when it comes to queer issues. theyre both post-obergefell and exist in a culture where queerness is seen as something that can be portrayed mainstream AND get fans invested- vld does this (eventually) with shiro, 911 with henren and eventually buck. however, once these characters have the "queer" label slapped on them, there is no meaningful care given to what this means. shiro was given a boyfriend, killed him the same episode, and in the end paired him with a man who had maybe 1 line. henren are constantly sidelined, particularly compared to the rest of the main cast, and is often forced into incredibly heteronormative behaviors (hen as the "husband" karen as the "wife"). buck hasnt been given the chance to think abt his sexuality at all, and was just sort of paired off with the first guy he kissed. since 911 is still in progress, there is obviously room to grow and change (particularly when it comes to buck's sexuality), but the pattern in lack of care is consistent.

they both also have a different, non-canon ship that draws both significant viewership and discussion online- klance and buddie respectively. the cast, crew, and network all know about this and use it their advantage. there are several examples storyboard artists posting klance drawings on their public accounts and i will genuinely never forget the impact of the "you are deserving of respect" drawing from 2016. to this day man. 911 does this too, especially post switch to abc. the actors talk about how they would love to do it if it was a pitched, they see it too dont worry fans! and not to mention the media tour they sent ostark and rg on the week before the finale.

maybe a different term would be more appropriate (shipbaiting ??), but it does not change the fact that abc and 911 is continuously over promising and under delivering, both in terms of fan ships and cared for queer representation. they are leaving the option of buddie vague and open because it will keep people watching- something they NEED, especially after peter krause's departure. i think that as it stands now, buddie is absolutely, 100% being baited. whether it falls specifically under "queerbait" can be debated, especially since the show is still on air and things can and will change. but if it continues, if it doesn't end up either canon or explicitly shut down before the final season, i feel like it can solidly be categorized as queerbait.

[i-sveikata]

Hi author! Random question but I remembered that in an earlier chapter pete has a moment where he thinks about what his life would be like had he been assigned to the minor family (macau specifically if i remember right). I love the pete works for the minor fam au so i was wondering what you think would happen in this scenario? Like how would the vegaspete relationship change? Would they get together sooner or would it still be kind of a shitshow?

omg anon i wrote out a really long winded answer to this and tumblr chewed it up without saving it :(

but the gist of it was, pete would be excellent as macau's bodyguard in this au and macau would be absolutely hero worshipping/ looking up to pete and imprinting on him like a baby duckling. pete would without a doubt be his favourite guard.

vegas would totally get jealous of that relationship/ feel threatened by pete outshining him with his brother so i could see him doing one of his bat shit/ off the wall tests that puts everyone in danger but would ultimately prove pete's mettle to him. then of course pete passes the test and he's too smart not to realise that he's been set up so he goes back to Vegas and really chews him out for putting Macau and everyone else in danger just for some stupid petty reason.

then vegas of course likes being told off/ yelled at by pete because pete doesnt hold back and says a lot of things about his opinion of vegas and his behaviour within the minor family etc- things that nobody else would have ever dared say to vegas before. just as pete did when vegas captured him in graveyards. only vegas response is different here because he knows he can't do anything to pete without devastating macau and he's less likely to murder his own guards vs the main family guards so he storms off/ or maybe the other guards intervene before vegas can go too far.

afterwards tho pete is horrified that he was so honest and fully expects to be fired but mr kan never hears about it and nobody kicks him out so he just vows to never drop the mask of professionalism again and promises to tread more carefully from then on. but unluckily for him by then vegas would be low key obsessed with that world shattering way pete yelled at him so he's wanting to learn more about pete and starts hanging around his brother a lot more and just trying to assess pete in whatever way he can. all while pete is trying to keep his cool and not give vegas a piece of his mind when vegas starts poking and prodding at him with the intention of getting pete to yell at him again. meanwhile macau is living his best life hanging around with his favourite bodyguard and his brother lmao with no idea that anything is going on.

i dont see them getting together under his father's roof. tbh pete would be way too careful to ever cross that line but i think if they had some chance to be alone say by some miracle Vegas convinces his father macau can go to university and even allows him to stay in the dorms, so the family rents a place nearby and pete acts as macau's on campus bodyguard with a few trusted guards.

from there vegas would start showing up a lot more under the guise of seeing his brother, but mostly with the intention of getting to know pete and building on their relationship. i could see pete being suspicious of him, thinking that vegas is so bored he has nothing better to do than to bother him or maybe he just wants to get revenge for the way pete has spoken to him/ argued with him in the past. but they somehow develop a begrudging respect/ casual friendship with one another (maybe there's a potential kidnapping attempt or attack where both pete and vegas fight together to keep macau safe and they really start to appreciate one another's skills and talents). then maybe one time macau is at a bar or party with his friends and pete is there acting as a bodyguard, vegas shows up too and says he's making him look less suspicious by keeping him company etc etc. maybe they're outside, talking and smoking, whilst pete still has eyes on macau, and is still feeling a little suspicious about what vegas wants with him until vegas leans over without any warning and kisses him on the mouth.

pete would freak out, because a) this is a public place b) he's currently meant to be working c) vegas is a GUY wtf? d) wait, is that why vegas has been hanging around them so often recently? and d) vegas is the son of his employer and no matter what this can never ever happen. except petes so flustered by how the kiss made him feel that all he manages to get out is that they can't do this in public and when he's in uniform so of course vegas takes that as encouragement whilst pete is scrambling to understand a guy just kissed him for the first time and he's surprised that he liked it so much. so then it would be macau living his best life at uni, completely oblivious to pete's inner turmoil whilst he's constantly being hit on by the heir to the minor family. vegas learns his lesson from that first try and doesn't do anything whilst pete is in uniform and they're in public- but he absolutely ups his flirting game and whenever they're alone or out of earshot he is giving pete his best material. and very actively doing his best to seduce him.

pete still holds him off, struggling to come to terms with everything he's feeling and reassessing about his sexuality but also the consequences of power dynamics in having the boss' son hit on him regularly and promises himself he won't cross the line but before he knows what's hit him, he's in way over his head and he and vegas are kissing whenever they're alone and vegas is constantly sneaking off to Pete's apartment whilst they continue things in secret. macau cottons on eventually and even helps to cover for them when mr kan gets fed up with how very distracted vegas is and tries to force him back to the compound to focus on the family business rather than playing around with his brother. but it'll be too late by that point- vegas is already in love and pete keeps telling him this is a terrible idea but every time vegas is there knocking on his door, pete lets him into his apartment, flushed and wanting more.

id guess the coup would still happen in this au, but maybe pete and vegas' relationship is more established by that point so he manages to convince vegas to stay out of it. to say no. mr kan beats the crap out of him to try and punish him for finally standing his own ground and to try and force him back into obedience but it doesnt work and he goes off to attack the main family and still dies anyway- just as pete hears about what happened and comes back to rescue vegas.

vegas takes over as the heir of the minor family and pete keeps insisting that they keep their relationship secret (even as he's helping vegas run things from the shadows and they're still sneaking into each other's beds at night). soon vegas' inner circle figures out they're together and then eventually the rest of the guards know too until it's the worst kept secret in the household. and then they decide to stop hiding, run the family business together and still get their happy ending!

in this au i think their relationship would be less of a shitshow because vegas wouldn't harm pete out of love for his brother and he'd have the time and opportunity to slowly seduce pete without needing to force anything. that would hugely change their dynamic. i think they'd still have a bit of a power dynamic going but it would be nowhere near as extreme or based in the same trauma as it does in graveyards. their relationship would be based on comradery/ grudging respect/ mutual acquaintance/ tentative friendship because they're spending so much time to get to know one another before they finally have sex. so whilst they'd still be having sex with the same kind of intensity and urgency, they wouldn't solely be using sex to communicate like they do in this fic, because in that au they'd already have their existing interactions and would already know one another quite well before delving into anything sexual- so their friendship/ professional relationship would be the baseline instead of like graveyards where the baseline was sex and the feelings/ wanting to deepen their relationship came after. so yeah thats my thoughts on that au i guess!

also damn me really just writing a novel length answer here haha but what a fun question anon thanks for asking!

[strawb3rry-hon3y]

Figure You Out

Pairing: Na Baek-jin/Park Hu-min’s x Fem!Reader (told from Park Hu-min’s POV.) Requested: No

Summary: Based loosely on “Figure You Out” by VOILÀ: Park Hu-min quietly falls for his childhood friend, now dating Na Baek-jin. When a fight drives her into Hu-min’s arms, one kiss changes everything… and nothing at all.

Length: Genre: Angst, Drama, Slow Burn, Forbidden Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, Verbal arguments, Unrequited love/love triangle, Feelings of worthlessness/insecurity. Status: Complete!

I heard he bought her a designer clutch last weekend.

One of those limited-edition ones, the kind you’d only see in some influencer’s hands online. Gold hardware, flashy enough to catch the light even when it’s overcast. He posted a picture of her the next day. She wasn’t even looking at the camera. Just standing beside him, fingers wrapped around the strap like it didn’t quite belong there. Like she didn’t quite belong there and I knew.

I knew the moment I saw her face in that photo. A tight smile, the kind she only wore when she was trying not to be ungrateful, that she hated it.

She told me once, years ago, that she hated carrying bags at all. Said they slowed her down. She liked to keep her hands free for snacks, for balance, for pointing out dumb clouds shaped like cats. So why would he buy her something she’d never use if it wasn’t for the look of it? For the image?

Because that’s what she is to Baek-jin now, an accessory. A status piece. A quiet, pretty thing to place beside him while his friends clap him on the back. But I remember her before all this.

I remember scraped knees and summer popsicles. Her tugging my sleeve when Baek-jin was being a brat and whispering “He’s impossible.” I remember how she used to laugh full belly, no filter, wild like the world couldn’t touch her. I still hear that laugh sometimes, when she forgets to be composed around me.

She’s different with me, Not the version they want. Not polished and packaged. With me, she’s soft again. Real. I hate that I’m the only one who notices.

It burns watching him parade her around like she’s his prize. Touching her lower back in front of everyone like he owns her, not like he loves her. He doesn’t know she hates PDA. That she only lets him hold her hand in public because she doesn’t want to make a scene. That she flinches, just barely, when he kisses her too long in front of his friends.

He doesn’t know her like I do. But he has her, and that’s what kills me.

I should be happy just being near her. Sometimes I convince myself that I am, that friendship is enough. She still messages me, still visits when she’s nearby. She shows up with snacks in her hoodie pocket, the way she used to, and we sit on the stairs outside my dad's house and talk about dumb things. School, weather, our favorite songs from middle school.

And the whole time I’m thinking, This could’ve been us. It should’ve been. But I keep quiet. Because what we have now: this fragile thing, it’s better than nothing. If I say something, if I ruin it, I don’t know if I’ll ever get her back. Even as just a friend.

So I let myself hurt. Quietly. Let myself love her the only way I can: in silence, in stolen glances, in the space between words. And he keeps giving her things that glitter. While I’m still holding all the pieces of her he never bothered to learn, and I hate that.

Sometimes, I think I could love her with my eyes closed.

Even with the distance: different schools, different circles. She’s still the one I see most clearly. It’s strange how people can live separate lives and still feel stitched to someone. Like no matter how far we drift, there’s always this invisible thread pulling me back to her.

She texts me before bed sometimes, usually about nothing—a picture of her cat curled up in her lap, a dumb meme, a rant about her math teacher. I save every one. I replay her voice notes when the days feel too quiet.

She still comes by the corner store near my place on Thursdays, the one with the old vending machine that barely works. I wait around those days, pretending I just happened to be there too, and she pretends not to notice that I never have anything in my hands to buy. Every time she smiles at me, really smiles, I feel like I’m thirteen again and she’s the only person in the room.

He’s got her, but he doesn’t get her. I see it in the way she sighs when she tells me about another expensive thing he bought her, like that designer necklace last week—the one she left in her bag all day because she said it was “too heavy.” She’d rather spend a weekend painting old flower pots or biking along the Han River than showing off some stupid necklace at a Union event.

She told me once, years ago in that park we used to sneak off to, that she hates people who try to fix everything with money. She said love should feel like being known, not bought. I’ve never forgotten that. I don’t think I ever will.

She looked at me once, after a particularly bad fight with him, and said, “Sometimes I think you understand me better than he ever will.” I didn’t say anything then. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, or maybe I was just scared of what it would mean if I said how I felt.

But the truth is, I could love her in the dark and still recognize every piece of her. I’m not trying to be her rescue. I’m not waiting around with some fantasy that she’ll leave him for me. I just..I don’t want to lose what little of her I still have. Because every time we talk every Thursday at that store, every time she texts me instead of him, I feel like I’m this close to figuring her out all over again.

I heard he started calling them her friends too. Guys who hang off his shoulders like shadows. Big names in the Union. Bigger egos. They don’t know a damn thing about her, but he parades them around like they’re hers now, like he’s giving her something special. When will he learn she doesn’t need anyone to give her a future? She already built one for herself.

Tonight, when she showed up at my door, her eyes were already red. No words, no explanation, just a plastic bag full of snacks, trembling hands, and that look in her eyes like she was trying not to fall apart.

She didn’t speak at first. Just kicked her shoes off quietly, curled up on the couch like it was the only place left in the world that didn’t hurt. I sat beside her, close enough for her to know I was here, but not close enough to make her flinch. I didn’t ask. Not right away. We sat in silence for what felt like forever. The soft rustle of chip bags and the quiet hum of the fan filling the space between us. Then I asked softly, “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

She blinked a few times, like the question startled her. Then it all came out. “He said they were our friends. Ours. But I don’t even know them, Hu-min. They make jokes about stuff I don’t find funny. They talk about the Union like it’s a game… like people aren’t getting hurt.”

Her voice cracked, and she looked away. “I told him I wanted nothing to do with any of it. That I didn’t want to be dragged into the crap he and the Union are doing. And then he—” She stopped herself, lips trembling. “He said some things. Things I didn’t think he ever would.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and then she was crying again. Fast and silent, the way she always did when she didn’t want anyone to know she was hurting. I moved without thinking, wrapping one arm around her, pulling her gently against my chest. She didn’t resist. She curled into me like she belonged there, and for a long moment, she just cried.

Then, in between soft sobs, she laughed. This weak, broken thing that made my chest ache. “If I would've known it would be like this, I would’ve rejected his idea. I mean… I know it was our parents. I know this was their whole big plan, but…” She shook her head. “I was hoping, Hu-min. Just hoping maybe it would be nice. That he’d care. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” I said immediately, tightening my hold on her. “You just wanted something good. That’s not stupid. That’s human.” She went quiet. Her breath slowed, but her eyes stayed damp. From under my arm, I felt her shift slightly. When I looked down, she was already looking up at me.

Big, tear-filled eyes. That half-sad, half-sweet smile she always wore when she was trying to be strong. I didn’t realize how close we were until I felt her breath on my neck. Then, without a word, she leaned up and kissed me. It was quick. Like she was afraid she’d change her mind if she waited. Soft, warm lips pressed to mine, trembling just enough for me to know how scared she was. But I kissed her back. Desperately. Like I’d been holding my breath for years and she was the air.

There was so much in that kiss. Every unsaid word, every hidden glance, every Thursday afternoon at the corner store when I wanted to tell her but didn’t. I poured it all into her in that moment.

Then, like something shattered inside her, she pulled back. Eyes wide. Panic. “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered. She stood up so fast the snacks nearly spilled off the table. “I shouldn’t have— That was a mistake. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Wait,” I said, standing too. But she was already halfway to the door. “I shouldn’t have come,” she choked out. “I just— I’m sorry, Hu-min. I’m sorry—” The door closed behind her before I could stop her. I stood there in the empty silence, heart still pounding, lips still warm from hers. All I could do was whisper her name into the space she left behind.

It had been four days since the kiss.

Four days of silence. No replies. Not even a single “seen.”

My fingers hovered over the keyboard more times than I could count. Messages typed, deleted, rewritten, unsent. Hey, are you okay?I’m not mad.I just want to talk to you. Please.

But nothing came back. No double check marks. No bubbles. Just a blank screen and the sharp ache in my chest every time I opened our thread. She wasn’t mine to miss. Then Baek-jin called.

“Come by the bowling alley,” he said, his voice cocky and casual like always. “We’re regrouping. I’ve got some moves in the works. Could use you” I almost laughed. But then, like a damn idiot: I thought of her. Maybe she’d be there. Maybe I’d get one second to see her. To explain.

So I went.

I pulled my black hoodie over my head, stuffed my hands into the pocket to hide how bad they were shaking, and walked the same streets I used to take with him, back when things made sense. Before money and pride and the Union started to rot him from the inside out.

The moment I stepped into the bowling alley, it hit me like a wall.

The air was thick with smoke, laughter that felt too loud, like it was covering something ugly, and the clinking of bottles and cheap music blaring through busted speakers. The scent of stale beer soaked into the cracked vinyl booths and warped wooden lanes. Half the guys here didn’t even bowl they just sat around, played cards, and acted like kings in a crumbling castle.

I kept my head low, eyes scanning the dim lights, the shadows. Every girl made my stomach flip until they turned around and it wasn’t her.

My heart was racing by the time I got to the hallway in the back. Flickering light overhead. Dirty walls. My footsteps felt heavier with every step. I didn’t know if I wanted to see Baek-jin or if I just wanted one glimpse of her. 

Then I saw her.

She was sitting on the couch, tucked in the corner of Baek-jin’s office, legs crossed, shoulders hunched like she was trying to disappear. Her phone sat loosely in her hands, screen dark. Her eyes were distant, tired, and that soft pout to her lips told me everything I needed to know. She wasn’t okay.

Baek-jin’s voice cut through the fog. “Hu-min.” She looked up. Fast. Like the sound of my name had jolted her awake. Her gaze hit mine, and for a split second, it was just us. Before Her eyes glanced away, worried I’d see something in them.

My throat closed. Her expression didn’t change still sad, still closed off. But I saw that flicker of something. Recognition, Pain. She stood slowly, not saying a word, still not looking me in the eye. “I’ll give you two space,” she murmured, brushing past me.

Instinct kicked in. My hand reached out, catching her wrist gently. She stopped in her tracks, her gaze falling on the hand on her wrist. I didn’t say anything. Just looked at her, silently begging: Don’t go, Not like this.

Her eyes met mine. Finally and it was like someone ripped a breath from my lungs. There was so much swimming in those eyes. Confusion. Hurt. Guilt. Something else she didn’t want to name.

She looked over my shoulder at Baek-jin. He was watching us, head tilted, brows creased in suspicion. It was only a second, but it was enough for her to make up her mind. She pulled her hand from mine. “See you around, Hu-min…”

It hit like a punch. She turned and walked away, back stiff, pace fast. But just before the hallway swallowed her, I saw her do it. She smiled at him. Small. Forced. Like she was trying to prove something.

I was still standing there when Baek-jin scoffed. “Didn’t know you and my girlfriend were still so close.” I didn’t look at him right away. I couldn’t. My gaze was stuck on that hallway, the space she used to fill, now empty again.

When I finally turned, I wasn’t angry. Not the way I thought I’d be. I was tired. There was no point in fighting over something I never had in the first place. Hands in my pockets, I stepped toward his desk. His throne. The place where he played king of a kingdom built on fear and fake loyalty. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice flat.

Taglist: N/A Header Creator’s: @saradika-graphics