#i’m trying to get better at it but i always forget

[malum-forev]

What's Past is Past

Summary: After months of not seeing Bucky, you're sent on a mission together, faking your way through a marriage. But it doesn't seem either of you are ready for it.

Ex-Bucky-Barnes x Spy-Reader

The bustling city and towering skyscrapers fade into an endless stretch of flat road faster than you expected. You never thought your job would take you beyond New York-then again, you never thought you’d be fighting alongside Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. 

For someone who consistently complains about subway delays and long for the fresh air your friends back home rave about, you’re surprisingly emotional about leaving. Even if it’s just for a month. 

Maybe it’s because you always imagined that when you finally left the city, it would be with the man of your dreams behind the wheel. 

But this? This is nothing like what you imagined. 

Sure, you have a diamond ring on your finger and a good man by your side but it’s all fake.

You pass through the only street in town, where time seems to have stopped. Everything looks as if it’s been suspended in the 1960’s.

“It says the house is just up the road.” 

It’s the first time in four hours that Bucky has spoken. He mumbled a broken hey when you got in the car, but after that, the only sound between you was the low rumble of the engine.

You hum in agreement. 

The house is nice-it’s not what you would’ve choose for yourself, but it’s nice. 

“I’m gonna get set up,” You don’t turn around as you step out of the car, heading to the trunk. 

“Let me help you with your stuff,” Bucky opens it before you can stop him.

You grab your suitcase before he can touch it. “I don’t need your help.”

“I was just trying to be nice,” he mutters as you walk past him. 

Inside, you set up your equipment, all facing south, toward your target: an ex-HYDRA assassin who’s been causing trouble.  

In any other situation, Bucky would be the worst person for this mission. But your new neighbor has had his mind wiped so many times he probably can’t tell his left hand from his right. He’s trained to kill. And you can’t have that.

A few hours later, there’s a knock at your door. 

“I was thinking of ordering a pizza. You want any?” Bucky asks, rolling his neck. 

“No, thank you.” You keep your eyes on the screen. The faster this mission ends, the faster you can leave all this behind. 

“C’mon, you need to eat.” He sighs, leaning on the doorframe. “You want your usual?”

You freeze. 

“Don’t do that.” You try to sound firm, but your voice barely comes out as a whisper.

“Do what?”

Finally, you look at him-for the first time all day. His steel-blue eyes meet yours. 

You’ve thought of this moment for months, ever since  everything between you imploded. But not even your wildest scenarios compare to the real thing. 

You thought you were completely over him, but the ache in your chest calls you a liar. 

“Don’t bring up our past,” you rip your gaze away. 

He throws his head back with a dry laugh. “Am I supposed to just forget that you like your pizza extra toasted? That your favorite color is navy? That you smile when the clouds turn darker?”

“Yes.” You snap. “You’re supposed to forget everything, that’s what you wanted-“

You stop yourself. “I can’t go down this road, Bucky.”

“Bucky?” He echoes with a scoff. “We’re back to regular names?”

That does it. 

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Yes! We’re back to our regular names, because that’s what you wanted! Did you expect me to still call you Jamie when you dumped without so much as a goodbye?”

“You’re acting like you wanted me to stay?” Bucky crosses his arms. “Like I was the perfect boyfriend?”

You shake your head. 

An amused look flashes through his face. “Are you saying I was better than the guy you’re with right now?”

“Bucky, stop,” you warn. 

“C’mon,” he raises his eyebrows. “Tell me, who’s better.”

“Oh, you want a final review? Is that why you’ve been trying to contact me? So I can give you a letter of recommendation?” You roll your eyes. “Fine, here it is. You were a great boyfriend. Attentive, loving, gentle. Until you let your own insecurities eat you alive. I tried to help you, Bucky. But you wouldn’t let me.”

Your voice cracks. 

“Then, you packed your shit and signed up for the longest mission you could find,” Your eyes prickle. “You left me. And I had to hear from someone at the compound that you’d already moved on.”

Bucky swallows hard, his eyes searching yours.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Overall, I’d give it a 6/10.”

Bucky opens his mouth to say something but you stop him. 

“Let’s just get this mission over with,” you twist the fake ring on your finger. “I have someone to get home to.”

Authors Note: tbh idk what this is, I was just dyyyyinggg to write over here again! I've been MIA becauseeeee I wrote a book LOL. Nothing to do with marvel, sadly but I would love to know if anyone here would be interested in reading it. If so, please let me know in the comments so I can tag you when I upload the first couple of chapters on here!

Anywayyyssss thanks for the love and support! Don't forget to like, reblog, and comment. It helps out a lot! Remember: my asks are always open!

[worthlessnepenthes]

So I reblogged this because it’s funny but then I thought about YQY for a second, and reblogged again so I could talk.

This isn’t going to be any new, profound thoughts for the fandom I’m sure but they’re new to me and I wanna talk for a minute.

I, personally, do not like YQY. I don’t HATE him, but I don’t like him. But I do feel sorriest for him, out of all the SVSSS and PIDW characters. I often forget that when he left SJ, he too was a literal child. Yes, he probably could have done better—told his master he needed help to save his brother, heck, told a fellow shidi or shixiong once he got to the peak. He was probably popular. I can’t imagine no one would have been willing to help him. But he was also a child, so I forgive him. He suffered and hurt himself, grievously, permanently causing himself a chronic condition in his attempts to get back to DJ. I don’t know that I think he did everything he COULD, but I do believe he did everything he THOUGHT he could.

And then Shen Jiu shows up, much like a feral cat, and constantly lashes out and hurts YQY. Their strained relationship is absolutely caused on both ends. It’s hard to say, ‘Well, YQY should have just KNOWN that SJ wasn’t going to the brothels to sleep with whores/didn’t kill LQG/wasn’t abusing Ning Ning/whatever other terrible things he was accused of,’ when SJ was, in fact, very verbally abusive and physically abusive to at least one disciple (lbh. Do we even get a canon reason WHY he hates him so much?), and verbally abusive to YQY, and to most likely many other characters.

However, maybe if YQY had actually stood up for SJ and said ‘No, this is a misunderstanding, this is not what happened,’ instead of just assuming that SJ had done whatever terrible thing and then covering for him in a sense of guilt, maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad. Or if YQY said, ‘take out your anger on me, it’s all my fault, but leave the others alone’. (It wasn’t, and SJ is wrong for acting this way.)

Honestly if they had ever fucking COMMUNICATED instead of just assuming the actual fucking worst of each other, while still deeply loving the other (in whatever romantic or platonic way they had, they loved the other) no matter whether they ever said it or not, a lot could have been avoided. Like PIDW YQY’s death.

Or hell, if Airplane had ever written about Xianxia mental health care instead of probably curing depression with papapa!

But the relationship between SJ and YQY is almost worse and more horrifying after SY comes through. YQY KNOWS it isn’t SJ, but every test they do show he isn’t possessed. So maybe it really is SJ, and all SJ needed to become happy was simply…to forget almost everything, but especially any time SJ and YQY spent together before they became Peak Lords.

So YQY is still trying to make it up to a person that he both thinks is there and thinks is not there, never knowing for sure. Every emotion he has towards this ‘new’ SJ feeling like a betrayal, ‘if only SJ could have acted like this before!’

Yeah. It’s really horrifying. He never gets the comfort of knowing for certain that SJ is gone, never gets to properly grieve and burn incense for him. But he also always feels just slightly off kilter with SY, and then feels guilt, because this is SJ! And even if it isn’t…what can YQY do about it?

YQY has many sleepless nights, wondering, after SY shows up.

I don’t like YQY, but I feel sorry for him. He is the most pitiful character in the book to me.

Shen Qingqiu, pissed off during a peak lord meeting: when I die I want Shang-shidi to lower me into the earth, just so he can let me down one last time

Shang Qinghua: bro c'mon

Yue Qingyuan, abruptly overcome by jealousy so intense that he's on the verge of a qi deviation: but I thought I was the one who let Xiao Jiu down the most...?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Handle With Care 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your work blurs the lines between professional and personal.

Note: I'm on a Bucky kick and can't stop myself.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The caller ID flashing on your dashboard display makes you groan. What the hell is Sam calling for? He should be patiently waiting at the venue.

You know even before you answer what the issue is. It's the same as it always is. It can never be about anyone but him.

"Wilson," you answer matter-of-factly, "I know I'm not late."

"Never are," he confirms. "It's not you."

"Oh, I know," you put your blinker on and check the traffic behind you, "you're really going to make me pull a U-ey."

"I know, I'm sorry. Again."

"You know, I never had another job where I had to make sure my co-workers got their asses out of bed," you spin the wheel and your tires squeal on the tarmac.

"Co-workers... dang, I thought we were more than that." You can hear his pout through the phone.

"Me and you, maybe," you drone.

"Hey, he's been trying," he argues.

"Yeah, I know. You think I don't try, Wilson?"

"Look, I'll make it up to you."

"You say that a lot," you shake your head at the road.

"Look, I gotta go. It's my big day," he intones.

"Please, do. Stop worrying about the old man." You insist. "Might not be in the job description, but I'll get it done. As always. See ya soon."

"See ya." He hangs up and your music comes back on. Not for long. You idle at a light and dial out another call.

Bucky's name flashes as you wait for a pick up. Of course, he can't be bothered. On this day of all. You sigh and try two more times as you get closer to his place. Nothing.

You get out and nearly trip out of the strappy heels. Wilson owes you indeed, for more than the personal house call. You teeter up over the curb and grab onto the railing. You climb the concrete steps and pound on the front door of the townhouse.

"Barnes," you holler through. "I know you didn't forget."

You hammer again. You only stop when your fist throbs. You shake out your hands and huff. You stomp and feel the skinny heel bend dangerously. Fuck.

You don't got the tech on you to unlock the keypad, looks like the old-fashioned way will do. You shift your clutch and pull out your nail file. Bastard. You better not break a nail for his reclusive ass.

You go around back and use the file to latch the kitchen window. You know Bucky is his own security but he really should get a proper alarm. You punch the screen in and grab the frame. You haul yourself into your waist and balance there, the ledge pressing on your stomach. The smell of coffee greets you in a bold waft.

You look up as Bucky leans his vibranium palm on the counter and watches you. You snarl and reach out. "A little help?"

He keeps his coffee to his lips and nears, grabbing your forearm to leverage you inside. Your knees touch the counter and you kneel there as you catch your breath. He lets go, watching you over the brim.

"You coulda knocked," he says.

"I did," you slip your legs out from under you. "Loud."

"I was in the shower."

"Great, at least you got that done," you chide.

"Coffee?" He offers as he points to the french press.

"Barnes," you warn with a point. "Please."

You stare at him. He's in a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. His slippers are the sort of plaid that you find in a nursing home. You hold back a growl.

"You know what today is."

"I don't think I should go," he grumbles.

"Are you serious? Don't be a sour puss--" A sudden white flash lands beside you and the rattling purr rumbles against your leg. You pause to pet Alpine as if she heard you deriding her breed. "Not you," you assure her.

"I don't want to ruin it--"

"Barnes, you can put a suit on and sit pretty," you push off the counter and your ankles turn to noodles as you barely keep from a sprain. "Look at me, all dressed up like a prize pig, so go put an apple in your mouth."

He rolls his eyes, "he doesn't need me--"

"Bull," you interject.

You march past him. This is how it is. You can deal with it on missions. That's just how it goes. Most men you work with are obstinate to the point of being another adversary on their own. But outside the job, it's a bit too much.

You go down the hall and slow. It takes a moment to get your bearings. You've never been much further than the front door. You ignore the clutter across the front room floor and charge upstairs.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Bucky stands at the bottom as you stomp up.

You don't answer him. You go into his bedroom. You stop and look around. The bed is made, possibly unslept in. The room doesn't look used much at all. You go to his closet and slide the door open. You find a pair of slacks and a jacket. Tie, shirt, all presentable enough.

He appears in the doorway. You lay everything on the bed.

"Get dressed," you demand.

"I'll call Sam--"

"No, Wilson is busy. It's his day. You wanna know how you're going to ruin it?" You approach him and cross your arms. "By going AWOL. Not today, Barnes. Now, get yourself together."

You strut out and shut the door. You stop outside and call through. "Five minutes."

You continues down to the stairs and idle there. You check your phone. You can make it. Easy. He just needs to get his ass in gear.

When the door opens, you turn to him. His tie is undone. You go to him and grab it, knotting it roughly, not that he would notice.

"You couldn't shave in the shower?" You huff.

"Hey, I can do it," he tries to bat you away.

"Then why didn't you do it twenty minutes ago?" He shrugs and you pull his tie straight. You tug his lapels and straighten his jacket. "And the rest." You flick your fingers toward his face.

He shakes his head and goes into the bathroom. He grabs his comb as you linger and you see him in the mirror dragging the teeth through his thick hair. It's to his collar now. You told him to get a hair cut. He never listens. Not your problem. Well, only for today.

"Damn..."

"Here," you dip into the bathroom and grab the comb. "Just--"

You reach for the tin of gel. You just need him to look somewhat presentable. You part his hair neatly and comb it back behind his head, moving around him to check nothing's out of place. He stares at the floor. You don't want to embarrass him but goddamnit.

"Okay," you pop the cap on and wipe your hands on the towel hanging in the loop. "Let's go."

His eyes stray to the wall and he mopes. You take a breath.

"Barnes, it's for Sam," you say.

"I know," he croaks and heaves. He lifts his head and puts his shoulders straight. "I'll do my best not to fuck this up."

[portgasdwrld]

MTL to be into quickies

‼️Warning this content contain NSFW subject‼️

Sanji… Do I even have to explain this one? This man is always up for anything that gotta do with sex and being able to touch you. Though he might get so excited and have his mind full of fantasies of you that when y’all gets to it, he comes horribly fast- 😭it’s okay he’s down for round two of the quickie session 😋

Luffy, ima put him second not because I think of him as someone who’s sexual, but more because I bet he gets those random urges out of nowhere. He’s also so spontaneous that he will literally just grab you and look straight into your eyes with a serious expression and be like :“Y/n I’m hard, help me out ….please” . You can’t say no to his cute face-

Franky , i don’t think he would be the type to initiate it at first because he wants to gives this impression he’s a gentleman/manly man or wtv and not a perv (like he truly is lol) but will soon drop the act when he gets comfortable and he will just be like “yo btw yk there is this room on the Sunny no one knows about..wanna try it out quickly?”

Zoro, he will definitely not initiate anything of that type. He’s pretty reserved and has some decent self control and he’s a bit of a loser ��so he won’t be like yo let’s go fuck. He would rather spend any free time getting better at his art or sleep. He might let you convince him tho?

Usopp, BROOO, Forget it. He’s such a stress ball . He will never initiate it even if he’s horny out of his mind just because the paranoia of being caught and having to be quick, will give him so much anxiety that he will be so clumsy with everything and mostly get soft if we being fr. So tbh seems more like a headache than a fun time 😕

[00valentina-writes00]

being bratty to vi like being like demanding and stuff how would she react

♡♥︎Vi with a Bratty/Demanding Girlfriend♥︎♡

♥︎ Vi doesn’t put up with much, but if you’re demanding or bratty in a playful way, she’ll get a smirk on her face, knowing exactly how to handle you. She doesn’t mind a little sass, but she draws the line when you start pushing her buttons too far.

♥︎ When you throw a tantrum or act out, Vi’s patience can wear thin quickly. She’ll give you a sharp, no-nonsense look, her arms crossed over her chest. “You better cut that shit out before I have to remind you who’s in charge here,” she’ll warn, voice low and commanding. She knows you’re testing her, and she’s always up for a challenge.

♥︎ If you push her too far, she won’t hesitate to call you out on your behavior, but it’s never in a cruel way. She’s blunt and to the point, saying something like, “I’m not playing this game, babe. Either you chill or I’ll make you chill.” Her tone is firm, but there’s always a glint of amusement in her eyes, like she’s enjoying the back-and-forth.

♥︎ Vi has a strict way of keeping you in line when you get bratty. She’s not afraid to use physicality to remind you of your place, whether it’s a hand on your shoulder to get your attention or her strong grip on your wrist to keep you from pushing her any further. She’s rough around the edges, but it’s always with a sense of control and care.

♥︎ Sometimes, when you’re being particularly bratty, she’ll tease you right back. Vi knows exactly how to push your buttons in return, using her humor and wit to match your energy. “You’re gonna make me do this the hard way, huh?” she’ll say, and before you know it, you’ll be grinning because you know she’s not really mad—she’s just trying to keep you in check.

♥︎ If you start acting out in public, Vi’s not afraid to grab you by the arm and pull you aside, giving you a stern talking-to. “Not here, not like this,” she’ll growl under her breath. She knows you’re testing her, but she’s not going to let you embarrass her—or yourself—over something petty.

♥︎ There are moments when you push her to the edge, and Vi’s patience snaps. She’ll say something like, “I warned you, babe,” before grabbing you and pinning you to a wall or a piece of furniture. Her hand on your throat or a firm grip on your waist keeps you in place, but her eyes tell you that she’s not angry—she’s just asserting control in a way you won’t forget.

♥︎ She has a soft spot for you, though, and after the tension dies down, Vi always makes sure to check in. If you’re sulking, she’ll bring you in for a hug, brushing your hair back or giving you a soft kiss. “You know I love you, right?” she’ll ask, even if she’s still holding a bit of that tough exterior.

♥︎ Vi likes the challenge you bring. A little bratty attitude keeps things exciting for her. She likes that you’re not afraid to speak your mind, even if it means giving her a hard time. It’s something she admires about you because, deep down, she knows that you’re strong-willed and not easily swayed by anyone.

♥︎ When you pout or try to act too stubborn, Vi’s the first to tease you, gently mocking your attitude. “You really think that’s gonna work on me?” she’ll ask with a smirk. “I’ve got more patience than you think, but don’t test me too much.” The tension shifts from frustration to something more playful, and she enjoys the banter you bring to the relationship.

♥︎ She respects your independence and won’t let you get away with manipulation or childishness for long, though. If you’re being too bratty, she’s quick to remind you that she expects maturity from you, and that means stepping up when it matters. “Don’t forget, you’re my equal,” she’ll say, “and I don’t do well with anyone who thinks they can walk all over me.”

♥︎ Vi knows when you’re acting bratty just to get attention, and while she might roll her eyes at the antics, she can’t help but love it. “You think I’m gonna fall for that? I’ll let you keep going for a minute, but I’m gonna make sure you regret it later,” she’ll warn, but you both know she enjoys it in her own way.

♥︎ When you’re demanding, Vi doesn’t mind it as long as you’re being direct about it. She’ll meet you head-on with an equal level of intensity. “What do you need?” she’ll ask, voice firm, but the slightest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She can’t help but admire your boldness, even if you know exactly how to push her buttons.

♥︎ When you’re sulking, Vi doesn’t let you get away with it for long. She’ll either pull you into a cuddle or distract you with something she knows you’ll enjoy. “You can’t pout for too long,” she’ll tease, “not when I’ve got ways to make you smile again.”

♥︎ Even though Vi is tough as nails, she’s not afraid to let you get under her skin. In fact, she likes that you challenge her—it keeps her on her toes. But don’t mistake that for weakness; when you push too far, she knows exactly how to reign you back in.

♥︎ Vi might act like she’s annoyed sometimes, but you know the truth: she’s deeply invested in you and your relationship. Her rough exterior is just that—an exterior. Beneath it, she loves the fire you bring into her life.

[kiszjuli]

LOVE BET .ᐟ

✸ bestfriend!jisung x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c. 2.5k | ♡

↳ synopsis. you and your bestfriend jokingly make a bet that whoever doesn't get a valentine has to pay for dinner at you guys' favorite restaurant, which is quite expensive. as valentine's day approaches, you both realize that you don't exactly like the idea of the other person going out with someone..

↳playlist. love - keyshia cole. lucky girl - red velvet. affection - between friends. like we just met - nct dream. better than gold - nct dream. off my face - justin bieber.

it was currently february 1st, meaning all of the bright pink and red decorations were already decorated around your campus. you found yourself in the, abnormally loud and chaotic cafeteria, you were waiting at your designated seats for your best friend, jisung, and as you waited you looked around. Glancing from the pink flyers to the red heart shaped balloons, and everything else in between. jisung plopped down with a sigh in front of you. "it looks like cupid threw up in here," you muttered, opening your pack of cookies. jisung's lips quirked up into a boyish grin as he settled in his seat. "what, jelous of all the love in the air?"

"it's not that," you said offering him a cookie, which he gladly took. "it's just...valentine's day is so overrated. why spend one single day to prove your love when you could just like─not suck the rest of the year?"

laughing, jisung spoke again. "god, you're such a romantic, no wonder you're still single," rolling your eyes you glare at him. "you're one to talk. when was the last time you tried to talk to someone you like?"

jisung's face flushed a little. "hey, i talk to people!"

"not what i asked," you say flatly, then lean across the table. "name one person you've flirted with in...the past year," you say thinking for a second.

as if really trying to think, he furrows his brows and looks at the table. "exactly," you laugh. "alright, how about you then? i don't remember hearing about you having a valentine," he raised a brow, challenging you back and sitting up in his seat.

your confidence wavered a little, but didn't let it show, "oh please, i could get asked out if i wanted to,"

"oh yeah? could you?"

you reached for a fry on your tray and threw it at him. he tried to block the fry, it falling to his lap as he laughed at you. "i'm just saying," he shrugged. "all this big talk, yet you're in the same boat as me,"

a smirk spreads across your face, as you get an idea. "fine, you know what? how about, whoever doesn't get themselves a valentine, has to buy the other dinner at our favorite restaurant. deal?"

this time it was jisung’s turn to falter a little. “are you seriously betting on this?”

you shrugged. “why not? scared of losing?” you teased.

those words were all it took for his competitive side to kick and and he straighted up once again. “fine. you’re on.” he reached out his his hand and you took it firmly. “prepare to lose park jisung,” you smiled your gaze locked on his. “i’m about to eat so much pasta,”

he smirked, his hand lingering in yours for a second longer than necessary. “we’ll see about that.”

little did the both of you know, that stupid little bet was about to change everything.

—

it’s a quiet afternoon, after school. you and jisung were hanging out at your favorite café. the place was a little busy with people, but you are just enjoying the usual, comfortable silence. that is, until a guy from one of your classes walks in. you notice him immediately. he was a generally friendly guy, always talking to everyone. he notices you and walks over to your table.

“hey!” he says, making his way over. “what’s up? haven’t seen you around lately.”

you stand to greet him, talking easily as you always do. you’re genuinely enjoying the conversation. he was funny, charming, and always has something interesting to say—never really an awkward pause. you laugh at a joke he tells, and just for a second, you forget jisung is even there.

jisung, however, hasn’t missed a thing.

he watches from his seat, his grip on his cup tightening just slightly. the way you and the guy are laughing, how easily you two got along. it was too comfortable. jisung tries to focus on his phone, but his eyes keep flicking back to you. there’s something in the way the guy looks at you, a little too interested, and jisung feels a pang in his chest. trying to brush it off, he settles with the fact that it’s because you might be winning the bet; for now.

jisung was trying to focus on his phone, scrolling through something meaningless, but the smile on your face. the way you leaned in a little closer to the guy as you talked. it was starting to bother him more than he’d like to admit. it’s dumb, he knows it’s dumb, but he can’t help the flicker of frustration in his stomach. you’re supposed to be just friends. but suddenly, the idea of someone else being interested in you feels… wrong.

he feels like he can ignore him and focus on his phone until the guy laughs again—louder this time, with a hand on your shoulder. he feels his blood start to simmer.

“so, uh, i was thinking about going to see a movie this weekend. wanna go?” the guy asks, his tone light, like it’s no big deal.

you smile, looking a little surprised. “oh, uh, sure! sounds fun.”

jisung’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles almost turning white. the guy’s eyes flicker over to him, then back to you, and jisung doesn’t miss the way the guy raises an eyebrow, sizing him up. it’s a subtle look, but it makes jisung’s jaw clench. he new what the guy was doing, and so did he.

the guy turns to leave, his attention shifting away from you, but before he walks off, he looks back one last time. “see you later, yeah?”

“yeah, definitely!” you call after him, still smiling.

as soon as the guy walks away, jisung can’t hold it in anymore. he stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor louder than usual. “i’m gonna get some air,” he mutters, as he begins to step away.

you glance at him, a little startled. “wha-? jisung, what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head, brushing you off. “nothing. just need some air.”

before you can say anything else, he’s walking out of the café, leaving you behind. you stare after him, confused and a little concerned. what was that about?

you sigh and lean back in your chair, a little unsure of what just happened. you know jisung, and you know that wasn’t just about needing air. you weren’t even doing anything to provoke him. but something about the way he left makes you feel like maybe he’s… bothered.

you pull your phone out, sending him a quick message:

hey, u good?

a few moments later, he replies.

yeah, i’m fine,

but you can tell something’s off. you don’t press him right now, but the conversation with the guy you just had lingers in your mind. was it just your imagination, or did jisung seem…jealous?

—

the following day, you seem to ironically have a similar experience.

you walk into the library after second period, expecting to find jisung buried in his usual corner, headphones in and his nose buried in a textbook. but instead, you stop in your tracks when you see him sitting at a table with a girl from your class, one you’ve seen around but don’t really know. she’s leaning over his shoulder, pointing at a page in her notebook, and jisung is explaining something, his hand moving across the page to help her with the assignment.

hesitating for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, something in your chest tightens when you see how naturally they’re talking, how comfortable she looks in his presence. she was pretty close to him, her shoulder brushing his as she leans in. it feels like your heart sinks a little, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

the way jisung is smiling, the way he’s so focused on her… it’s the same way he looked when he helped you with schoolwork, but this time, it’s different. this time, there’s something more, something you hadn’t expected. the sight stings, even though you know it shouldn’t. it’s not like you have any claim over him, and he’s probably just being a good friend, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach won’t go away.

you stand there for a moment, not sure what to do. a small part of you wants to walk away, pretend you didn’t see it, but another part of you, feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. you had no idea why.

just like jisung had felt the day before when you laughed with that guy at the café, you feel that same pang of jealousy now. and it’s so much more than you were expecting. maybe you understood his reaction a little more now.

after what feels like an eternity, you turn around and walk out of the library before you can let any of those feelings show. you tell yourself it’s ridiculous, that you have no reason to feel this way, but the image of jisung laughing with her sticks in your mind, making it impossible to shake the feeling.

—

it was now valentine’s day, and when you got the text from jisung asking to come over and talk, you assume it’s about the bet. about how he didn’t find the valentine he kept claiming he find. and you would tell him the same, that you were both valentine-less. you figured you’d laugh about it and go about your days. everything would go back to normal and you wouldn’t have to see him around talking to other girls and feeling that awful sting in the pit of your stomach.

but as he arrives to your place, the look on his face making you nervous. he sits on your couch and you follow him, cradling your legs to yourself as you sat.

the soft hum of the city outside the window barely audible as you sit together in the living room. despite the seemingly comfortable silence between you two, there’s something else in the air—a tension neither of you has been able to shake for days.

jisung’s, hands fidget in his lap, his eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for something, trying to find the right words. you could tell he’s been holding something back, and it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the way he keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to speak what’s been on his mind for so long.

“hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence, “is everything okay?”

he glances at you, but his gaze is distant—like he’s caught between saying something and not saying anything at all. you wait for him to respond, the anticipation weighing heavily in the room.

“i’ve been thinking a lot,” he begins, his voice quieter than usual, which spikes your curiosity. he exhales slowly. “about everything… with the bet, with us. and i’ve realized something. something i think i’ve been running from for a really long time.”

you sit up a little, your heart beating faster as you focus entirely on him. his tone was serious, the vulnerability in his voice making your chest tighten with both concern and curiosity.

“i’ve been… avoiding it,” jisung continues, his words coming out in a rush. “for years. i kept telling myself it wasn’t anything. that we were just friends. that it didn’t mean anything. but the truth is, i’ve been denying it for so long because I was scared... of what would happen if i admitted it. if i admitted that i’ve felt something more for you than just… friendship.”

your breath nearly catches in your throat. the words are unexpected, and yet, they make your heart race. you swallow, unsure of what to say, but jisung keeps going.

“i thought if i ignored it long enough, it would go away,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours now, raw and open. “but it never did. and i realized that i couldn’t keep pretending. i couldn’t keep pretending that i didn’t feel something for you. i don’t want to see you with anyone else. i don’t want to watch you go out with someone and not be the one standing next to you.” his lock onto yours.

you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you’re not sure whether to be shocked or relieved that he’s finally saying this. all the years of hints, all the quiet moments between you two, all of it makes sense now.

“i’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i was too afraid,” he confesses, his voice breaking slightly. “i that it would ruin everything. that maybe you wouldn’t feel the same way, or worse—that it would destroy our friendship. but i can’t keep denying it. i’m… in love with you, y/n. and have been for so long, and i can’t pretend i’m okay with the idea of you being with anyone else.”

for a moment, you’re speechless, processing the weight of his words. years of feelings, years of quiet longing—suddenly all of it is out in the open, and it feels both overwhelming and relieving at the same time.

you swallow, your voice barely above a whisper as you look at him. “jisung… i never wanted anyone else. i don’t think i ever did. i’ve been scared too. scared of ruining what we had, scared that you wouldn’t feel the same. but… i feel the same way.”

his eyes widen at your confession, and something in him shifts. like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. his shoulders slump, a sense of relief settling over him.

“really?” he asks, as if he can’t believe you’re saying it too.

you nod, voice steadier now. “i never wanted to go out with anyone else. but i was too scared to risk what we had. i didn’t know how to tell you i… felt the same. i wanted to be with you, but i couldn’t say it.”

jisung ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath he’s held too long. his expression softens, and he moves closer, hand gently touching yours, hesitant but tender.

“so… we’re both idiots then, huh?” he says with a nervous laugh, the humor light but relieved. “all this time… and we were both too scared to admit it.”

you laugh, the tension breaking. “yeah. but i think we’re finally getting it right.”

his smile is genuine, the softest you’ve ever seen. “so…will you be my valentine?”

you squeeze his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “well… only because i don’t have anyone else that asked,” and maybe, just maybe, i’ll let you take me out on a real date. not because of a stupid bet, but because i want to be with you.”

his eyes light up and he chuckles at your words. he smiles softly, cheeks a little rosy. “that sounds perfect.”

and just like that, all the hesitation, all the silent feelings, fade away. you’re both free from the weight of denial, starting something new. together.

and in your book, you still won’t the bet. you knew you weren’t gonna pay for the dinner from the start, and you were right. you also got the best valentine, and soon boyfriend, anyone scouts ever ask for.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

(i’m sorry this one’s a little late you guys)

[heartsforjh]

reader having big crowd anxiety and qhughes picking up on it leading her through the crowd? 🥲

here you go nonnie! i hope you like! :)

main masterlist | 100 follower celly masterlist

As your boyfriend opens the door for you, a wave of loud talking and laughter hits you immediately. It always amazes you how many people come to these events for Quinn’s work. It’s easy to forget the amount of effort that goes into those fun little games on ice.

You step inside, glancing around as the herd of people closest to the door turns toward you. Naturally, their gaze lingers on Quinn—and then shift to you, standing right beside him. Quinn waves to a few people as the two of you move deeper into the room.

“We’ve gotta find the guys. They’re around here somewhere,” Quinn says, scanning the room.

You nod quickly. Surely being around familiar faces will help ease the nerves that are already starting to build up from all of the attention.

You squeeze his hand, trying to focus on the warmth and pressure of his grip as he holds yours. “Yeah, let’s find them.”

He leads you through the bustling crowd until he eventually spots Elias Pettersson and Conor Garland.

“Hey, you two,” Conor greets, pulling both you and Quinn in for hugs, with Petey following suit.

Quinn’s hand finds its place on your waist as he settles into conversation with his friends. You chime in here and there when something catches your interest, the comfort of their company gradually putting you at ease.

For a while, you feel better, laughing and chatting with the small group. But that changes the second your purse slips from your hand and falls to the ground with a thud. Instinctively, you look around to see if anyone notices, expecting a few fleeting glances.

Your stomach drops when you’re reminded just how many people are around, and they’re all staring. Not just glancing, but staring. Why are they staring? Their eyes linger, waiting—maybe for you to pick it up. The pit in your stomach grows as you start wondering what they might be thinking.

Your chest immediately tightens. The room feels louder and everyone seems closer. When did they get so close? Your chest moves up and down rapidly, desperately trying to get a full breath, but the air gets stuck in your throat.

“Babe, you okay?” Quinn’s voice cuts through the haze, grounding you.

You blink, and suddenly the world is back in focus. He’s holding your purse, having picked it up amidst your small panic.

“I’m- I’m fine,” you stammer, unconvincingly.

Quinn’s eyes search yours, concern etched across his face. “You’re shaking, sweetheart.” His tone is gentle, careful not to draw any more unwanted attention to you.

“I told you—I’m okay,” you insist, but your body betrays you with a slight sway.

Quinn sighs softly, placing his hands on your hips to steady you. “Well, this isn’t okay with me. Come on, let’s go talk.”

Taking your hand, he quietly leads you out of the crowded party room and into the hallway.

Once outside, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, trying to calm your racing heart. “Quinn, we don’t have to do this. We should go back in—this is for your job.”

“Y/n, baby, we can go if that’s what you need. It’s just a New Year’s party. We’ll do our own New Years at home,” he assures you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You sigh, guilt creeping in. “I just feel selfish. You’re the face of the Canucks—people are going to stare. You shouldn’t have to miss this just because I’m… freaking out.”

Quinn shakes his head, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. “You don’t have to get used to anything. You’re dealing with something, and that’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. Besides, I can’t enjoy this if I know my girl’s struggling, can I?”

His words melt some of your worries, and a small smile breaks through. “No, I guess not.”

“Also,” he adds with a small grin, “between you and me, I didn’t want to come to this thing anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Wow, so you’re just using me as an excuse to ditch?!”

“What? No! That’s not what I was trying to say! I meant—” his eyes widen, and he fumbles over his words, making you giggle.

“You know what I meant!” he huffs, shaking his head. “You’re a jerk.”

“It was just a joke!” you tease, still laughing as you walk towards the exit with him, hand-in-hand.

Quinn gives a small, dramatic pout. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“I’m not mean to you! I was kidding!” you repeat while laughing even more at his reaction.

Secretly, he’s overjoyed to hear you laughing, even if it is at his expense. He’d gladly let himself be the punchline to your jokes as long as he gets to hear that favorite sound of his.

tags: @beenucks @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @azure-dawn81 @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86 @ccomandercody @macklin-celebrini-71 @randomcuboidshape @when-im-with-you @quillycrow @rainyvalentines @alwaysclassyeagle

join the taglist here! :)

[kakuvibez]

Read your TWST x EAH! Reader (literally chef’s kiss) and wanted to request a Diasomnia x Darling Charming! Reader

TWST | 𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗘! DIASOMNIA DORM X DARLING CHARMING! READER │ M.LIST

Signature spell: SLOW,, When [N] Darling flips her hair in a certain way, she can briefly slow time down for anyone who is watching her. She is also very strong and athletic.

"Become a damsel in distress, it was always told I'm supposed to be. A "forgotten" tale that I was supposed to be the princess of by Headmaster Grim."

"Even tho my family is charming, they are destined to be princes who save the princess. I'm the one who is being saved"

"I always felt so much more than that. I've always wanted to be a hero, the one who saved the princess, but I worried about what it would mean for my family if I was labeled a Rebel. Then again, what if nobody ever found out?"

"I don’t need to be a damsel in distress! I am the knight!"

"No, Lilia, I will not carry you to the infirmary just because you ‘suddenly feel faint’!"

"Why do I feel like I’m being tricked into saving them?"

[Name] Darling Charming wasn't your typical princess. While her family was renowned for their charming princes, she was, well, [N]. And she was determined to be a knight. Forget waiting in a tower; [N] preferred training in the courtyard, her signature spell, "Slow," a closely guarded secret. A flick of her wrist, a toss of her hair, and time would stutter for those watching – just long enough for her to land a decisive blow.

"Become a damsel in distress, it was always told I'm supposed to be," [N] muttered, adjusting her training gear. "A 'forgotten' tale that I was supposed to be the princess of by Headmaster Grim." She scoffed. "Even though my family are the Charmings, they are destined to be princes who save the princess. I'm the one who is being saved."

The thought rankled. "I always felt so much more than that. I've always wanted to be a hero, the one who saved the princess, but I worried about what it would mean for my family if I was labeled a Rebel. Then again, what if nobody ever found out?"

Her resolve hardened. "I don’t need to be a damsel in distress! I am the knight!"

This conviction led her to Night Raven College, and, inexplicably, to Diasomnia. The dorm, with its elegant, powerful students, was… odd. They were constantly in need of rescuing. Lilia, with his dramatic fainting spells (which [N] suspected were entirely performative). Sebek, always getting into scrapes he insisted he could handle, right before needing a hand. And Malleus… well, Malleus just had a knack for being in the right place at the right time for a dramatic rescue.

"Why do I feel like I’m being tricked into saving them?" she’d grumble to herself, hefting Lilia (again) towards the infirmary. "No, Lilia, I will not carry you to the infirmary just because you ‘suddenly feel faint’!"

One afternoon, during a particularly chaotic training session (caused, naturally, by a rogue gust of wind that just happened to knock over a stack of very important, very fragile Diasomnia heirlooms), [N] found herself face-to-face with Malleus. He was surrounded by the shattered remnants of… something. He looked, for lack of a better word, distressed.

"Oh, [N]," he sighed, his voice laced with… something. Pity? Admiration? [N] couldn't quite place it. "Such a tragedy. I fear I've made a terrible mess."

[N] narrowed her eyes. "What exactly happened, Malleus?"

He gestured vaguely at the debris. "A… unfortunate accident. I was merely admiring the craftsmanship when… well, you see."

[N] did see. She saw a very strategically placed vase, a very convenient gust of wind (again!), and Malleus’s very dramatic sigh. She also saw the glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Malleus,” she said slowly, “are you trying to make me rescue you?”

He blinked, feigning innocence. "Whatever do you mean, [N]? I would never dream of imposing upon your kindness."

[N] crossed her arms. "You're all doing it," she accused, her voice rising slightly. "Lilia, Sebek, even you! You act like you need saving, but you don't! You're all incredibly powerful! It's… it's manipulative!"

Malleus chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Perhaps," he conceded, taking a step closer. "But you must admit, Darling, you are quite good at it." Using your first name this time felt weird.

[N]’s “Slow” almost kicked in instinctively. She could feel the familiar tingle at her fingertips, the urge to flick her hair, to freeze this moment. But she resisted. She wasn't going to be manipulated.

"I'm a knight," she stated firmly, meeting his gaze. "And knights protect those who truly need it. Not those who are pretending."

Malleus's smile widened. "And what if," he whispered, "I truly need your protection, Darling?"

[N]’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure if it was from annoyance or… something else. She looked at Malleus, really looked at him, and saw a vulnerability that was usually hidden beneath layers of regal composure. Maybe, just maybe, they weren't all pretending. Maybe, even the mighty Malleus Draconia sometimes needed a knight in shining armor.

A small smile played on Darling’s lips. "Then I suppose," she said, "I'll just have to be the best knight I can be."

And as she said it, she knew. She wasn't just a knight. She was their knight. And perhaps, that was exactly what Diasomnia needed.

-----

Before-

Diasomnia has never needed a hero.

That is what you tell yourself, time and time again, as Lilia dramatically swoons into your arms, as Silver suddenly forgets how to parry during training, as Sebek loudly exclaims that he is in grave danger… and as Malleus smiles, ever so softly, as if he knows you’ll come to his rescue every time.

"Ah, my knight," Lilia sighs theatrically, holding a hand to his forehead as you catch him mid-fall. "What would I do without you?"

You roll your eyes, setting him down again. "I know you don’t need saving, Lilia."

"But if I want to be saved?" he teases, his fanged grin playful.

Sebek suddenly drops his training sword, clutching his chest as if he has been fatally wounded. "A-ack! I… I think I may perish—!"

You don’t even look at him. "Sebek, I swear—"

"Human!" he cries, his golden eyes desperate. "Save me!"

Malleus watches, amused, as you huff and march over, shoving a hand into Sebek’s chest and pushing him upright.

"There, you’re saved."

"Hah! Your strength is most impressive!" Sebek beams, suddenly fine again.

You sigh. This has become a routine.

You were supposed to be the one proving yourself as a knight. As a hero. But somewhere along the way, the strongest and most feared dorm of Night Raven College decided that they needed you to be their knight instead.

Malleus chuckles, stepping forward, and your breath catches as his green eyes meet yours. "You always come running when we call," he murmurs, his voice as deep and smooth as a lullaby.

His fingers brush your wrist, lingering there. Too close. Too gentle.

"Perhaps you were always meant to be our hero."

You swallow hard, because the way he says ours…

You’re starting to wonder if you’ll ever be allowed to save anyone else.

---

Malleus Draconia

- "Tell me, my knight… will you always come when I call?"

- "Ah, what a predicament. It seems I am in grave danger… and only you can save me."

- "You are OURS, [N]. Surely, you must know that by now."

Lilia Vanrouge

- "Oh, my hero! How gallant of you to catch me once again~"

- "I must admit, it’s entertaining to watch you play into our hands."

- "Come now, wouldn’t you rather stay here, where you’re NEEDED?"

Silver

- "I… I think I’m falling asleep—Oh. You caught me. Again."

- "I don’t mean to need your help… but I suppose I do, don’t I?"

- "You always save us… but who is there to save you?"

Sebek Zigvolt

- "HUMAN! I AM UNDER ATTACK!—Oh, you caught me. Excellent work!"

- "You cannot ignore me! I am in need of a knight’s assistance!"

- "Tch. It is only natural that you should protect us. After all, we are your most precious ones, are we not?"

You wanted to be a hero. A knight. A savior. But now you’re starting to wonder…

Who will save you from them?

[ivyues]

Chasing Yesterday | 1 | - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x lost connection trainee friend

Years after splitting paths, Bang Chan didn't expect a simple text to bring an old friend – and old feelings – back into his life.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The training rooms smelled of sweat, determination, and dreams that didn’t come easy. Chris always lingered a little longer than the others, his eyes fixed on the mirrors, wondering if his reflection would ever transform into someone worthy of debut. For years, it was the same – watching friends reach their dreams while he stayed behind, burdened by doubt.

There was also you. You weren’t just another trainee to Chris. Sure, you were a hard worker, someone who matched his relentless pace, but you were also his anchor. Late-night conversations about dreams, shared snacks in the practice room, and bursts of laughter after a particularly tough day made the grueling years bearable. He never told you about the way his heart would race when you smiled at him or how your encouragement after his failures felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. He kept that silly little teenage crush away, afraid to ruin what you two had.

But around the time Han joined the company, you decided to leave. The dream of becoming a K-pop idol didn’t burn as brightly for you anymore, and while Chris understood, he hated losing yet another close ally. One day, you were practicing next to him and the next day, you were just… gone.

The years passed. Stray Kids debuted, and Chris threw himself into his work, becoming the leader his members needed him to be. Life moved on, but every now and then, in quiet moments, he’d wonder what you were doing. 

It wasn’t until one day, years later, when he was catching up with Sana that your name came up.

“You remember Y/N?” Sana asked casually over coffee, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Of course, I remember her,” Chris said with a small smile. “It’s been years, though. I haven’t talked to her since…” His voice trailed off, the memory bittersweet. “I wonder how she’s doing.”

Sana grinned. “Funny you should say that. I got her number recently. Want it?”

Chris blinked, startled. “Her number?”

“Yep,” Sana said, sliding her phone toward him. “Go on. Text her. She’d probably love to hear from you.”

That night, Chris sat on his bed, your number staring back at him from his phone screen. He hesitated, typing and deleting messages, his nerves getting the better of him. Days passed before he finally worked up the courage to text you.

“Hey, this is Chris. Sana gave me your number. It’s been a while. How have you been?”

Chan hit send and immediately regretted it. What if you didn’t reply? What if you didn’t want to talk to him at all? He set his phone down, trying to distract himself, but every buzz made his stomach flip.

A few hours later, his phone lit up.

“Chris as in Christopher Bang Chan?”

He smiled, relief washing over him as he quickly typed back. “Yeah, it’s me. This is Y/N, right?”

Your reply came almost instantly: “Yeah. It’s been ages! I can’t believe you’re texting me!”

Chris hesitated for a moment, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before replying, “I’ve missed you. I hope you’re doing well.”

There was a brief pause before your next message arrived: “I am, thanks. You too. I’m proud of you. I’ve watched your MVs – You’ve come so far.”

The thought of you keeping up with his career sent a rush of warmth through him. He stared at your message for a moment, rereading it before typing back. “I wouldn’t be here without you. You know that, right?”

Your reply came with a teasing tone that made him laugh out loud. “Once you’re famous and living the idol life, you forget to text old friends, huh? 😜”

“Hey, I’m here now!” he shot back.

And just like that, the ice was broken. Over the next few days, your texts became constant – snippets of your lives, fond memories of the trainee days, and playful banter. It felt like no time had passed, and yet, in some ways, everything had changed.

One day, Han caught Chris grinning at his phone in the corner of the dorm. It was rare to see their leader so visibly relaxed, much less smiling to himself. Intrigued, Han leaned in, nearly giving Chris a heart attack.

“Hyung, who’s got you giggling like that? Is it someone I know?”

Chris scrambled to lock his phone. “It’s nothing, it’s just...an old friend. Do you remember Y/N from when we were trainees?”

Hearing him say your name, Han’s curiosity only grew. “Not really, but you were pretty close right? Hyung, why are you just texting? You should meet her. It’s been years, right? I bet she’d love to catch up.”

Chris hesitated. Meeting you in person? That thought felt heavier than he expected. He wasn’t sure why.

“Hyung.” Han’s tone softened, sensing his hesitation. “You’ve told me stories about her. She meant a lot to you back then, right? What’s stopping you?”

It was a question Chris couldn’t easily answer, but it nudged him to act. A few days later, after much internal debate, he texted you.

“How about coffee this weekend? There’s this café I like. We could catch up properly.”

Your response was quick and enthusiastic: “I’d love that! Let me know the place and time.”

-----

The café was warm and inviting, its earthy tones and gentle lighting creating a cozy ambiance. Chris arrived first, nervously fiddling with his phone as he waited. He hadn’t seen you in years, and the thought of reconnecting stirred a mix of excitement and anxiety. Would he recognize you? Would it feel the same as it did back then?

When the bell above the door chimed, Chan looked up, and there you were. You hadn’t changed much, and yet, you looked so different. The teenage girl he remembered had matured into someone who carried themselves with quiet confidence. Your smile was the same, though, lighting up your face as you spotted him.

“Chris,” you greeted, and the sound of his name in your voice felt like a time machine.

He stood, unsure whether to hug you or shake your hand, but you made the decision for him, pulling him into a warm embrace. “It’s been forever,” you said, pulling back to look at him. “You haven’t changed.”

Chris chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “You have – in a good way. You look… happy.”

The two of you ordered drinks and found a quiet corner. The conversation started easy – catching up on the basics, sharing stories from your lives since those trainee days. But as the initial excitement settled, the mood grew more reflective.

“Do you regret it?” Chris asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, but his gaze was intense, searching your expression for any flicker of doubt. “Leaving the company, I mean. Giving up on… that dream.”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering his question. “No,” you said finally, your voice steady. “I don’t regret it, Chris. After I quit I realized that I was chasing something that wasn’t really mine to chase. I think I was trying to prove something to myself, or maybe to others.”

You paused, hesitating before continuing. “I realized after I left that the dream I really wanted… it was never an option for me. Producing music, having creative control—it was never going to happen as a girl in a girl group, not in that company, not at that time. They had a mold, and I didn’t fit into it. Once I understood that, it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I stopped trying to be someone I wasn’t.”

Chris’ eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing through them. “That… must’ve been tough to come to terms with.”

“It was,” you admitted. “I was angry for a while, at myself, at the system. But after I left, I started to see that it wasn’t the end. There’s more than one way to make a dream come true, and the path I’m on now—it feels right for me. I’m happy where I am.”

Chris nodded, processing your words. “You always seemed so sure of yourself back then. I guess I just… I admired that.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “I wasn’t as sure as you think. But thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

There was a moment of quiet, the café’s gentle hum filling the space between you. Then Chris tilted his head slightly, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Do you still do music? Like creating or singing?”

You smiled, the question sparking something warm in you. “Yeah, I do. It’s just a hobby now, though. I write and sing at home when I feel like it. It’s… different from before, but it brings me a lot of joy.”

“That’s great,” Chris said sincerely. “I’m glad you haven’t let it go completely. Music was always such a big part of who you are.”

You nodded, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup. “It still is. But right now, I haven’t really been doing much with it. I just moved back to Seoul recently, so I’m still settling in. Once things are a bit more stable, I’d love to dive back into it.”

“You moved back?” Chris asked, his eyes lighting up. “How long ago?”

“Just a couple of months,” you said. “I wanted a change, and Seoul felt like the right place to be.” Then, after a brief pause, you added, “You know, once everything’s in order, you should come by sometime. I’ve been meaning to show someone my music setup—well, when I finally unpack it all.”

Chris’ eyes widened slightly in surprise, then softened with a warm smile. “Yeah? I’d like that. It’d be nice to hear what you’ve been working on since.”

“It’s nothing fancy – no chart-topping masterpieces” you said quickly, brushing off the compliment with a wave of your hand. “But it’s always fun to share it with someone who gets it.”

“I’d love to,” he said, his sincerity unmistakable. “Just let me know when you’re ready. No rush.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light through the café windows, the two of you lingered, caught in a space that felt timeless. There was something comforting about reconnecting, about seeing the ways you had both changed and grown, yet still finding the same thread of understanding that had tied you together all those years ago.

pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | masterlist

[orsinium-scholar]

Spring came slowly, this close to the Skyrim border. It crept across the Colovian foothills like a lazy child slinking out of bed. Snow lay thickly over the forest as the pair of orcs passed through, the only tell of the turning season the gentle patter of melting snow from the trees and a green carpet of snowdrops beginning to push through the snow.

In the arms of the tallest orc, a small bundle wriggled with a quiet squeak of annoyance as a drop of snowmelt dropped down onto it.

Margesh the hunts-wife sighed internally as she noted their slow pace. Chief Nazbarag could set a blistering pace through the forest even under heavy armour, yet now, clad in lightweight furred leather, he walked through the woods like he had a millstone around his neck.

“Does he seem peaky to you?” Chief Nazbarag paused, glancing down at the altmer babe in his arms. “I don’t know, he seems pale. A trip like this might be too much for-”

“Of course he’s pale, dear. He’s an elf. He was fine when we left, Kizbeh gave him a check over when she was feeding him.”

“...Right, right…” He set off again, still slow and hesitant.

Honestly, she didn’t know what she expected, really. As tough and strong and ruthless as her husband could be, she’d been married to him long enough to know that under the armour and scar tissue and fearsome beard was a complete soft touch for anything small and helpless. No matter how much he insisted otherwise, no matter how fearsomely he protested, and argued, and pretended otherwise, she knew him.

He was always the first to offer to take a small child off his spouse's hands. Always made excuses to be elsewhere when the livestock were slaughtered.

And who could forget the fuss and grousing he’d made when his youngest daughter had brought a kitten home, who’d been barely a week in the stronghold before he was falling asleep in front of the hearth with the small scrap of fur asleep on his chest?

She’d known this was going to go badly the minute she’d brought the lost little babe home, wailing with cold and hunger, and he’d swept him up in his huge arms before he’d even taken a closer look at him. After an entire winter of “Just till the spring-” this and “Don’t get attached-” that, Margesh knew that if she didn’t step in now, there would just be another mouth to feed.

“Do you think it’s too early in the year? The pass is likely only just clear, it’s quite cold, and he’s only small…”

“He’s survived colder, dear. You said, once the pass was clear, the boy was going down to Chorrol.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I…”

Uh-oh. His eyes were dangerously misty.

“Look, it’s for the best, dear. It’s a tough life for an orc, and he’s just a little elf pup, it’s better if he goes down to the city. They’ll find him a good home, or track down some family, and he’ll be much better off.”

“I suppose…”

“Right then. We should be on the cart track soon, then it’s a straight shot to Chorrol-” She realized suddenly that Chief Nazbarag was no longer trudging beside her.

He had stopped completely, staring at nothing as the babe wriggled quietly in his arms.

“Margesh-?”

Oh gods…

“What?”

“When you found his mother…you said they were elf arrows in her back, right?”

“Yeah, that stuff happens all the time, I hear. Those black and gold bastards decide some elf isn’t, I dunno…elf enough, and they get cut down. Seems like a waste to me…why?”

For a moment he just stared through her, face haunted as he held the child close. Then his face hardened and he spun on his heel, facing back towards where they had come from, setting off with a powerful stride.

“Nazbarag! What are you doing?”

“Taking him home. If I hand him back and those high elf bastards hear about it, they’ll just kill the boy! I’m not having that on my conscience!”

Oh, crap.

Margesh set off after him at a jog.

“Don’t be a fool! He won’t survive the stronghold!”

“We’ll give him a try. It’s more than the thalmor bastards would give him. I didn’t crack elf skulls in the legion for years just to hand him over to monsters!”

And Margesh…gave up.

“Mauloch’s teeth…fine.”

Dammit, I owe Kisbeh ten drakes. She told me she wasn’t even going to bother to take the cradle down when we left.

Shaking her head, she set off after her husband.

“Fine. He can stay…”

Along the path, as the pair set off towards home, the first snowdrop flowers began to bloom.

[pluvionpc]

added an image description in the alt text! sorry that took so long

The Kiss by Francesco Hayez, 1859

[original + sketch under the cut]

i thought this piece was extremely fitting for these two (particularly a lot of its little details and the distinct shape of the figures against one another), and i have a lot of feelings about them recently, so this is the result

[edge-oftheworld]

when I was in high school there was a tendency whenever there was an attractive boy to simply fan over him. in a way that talked over everything he might say for himself and created a narrative that completely ignored, the fact in some cases, that he was really struggling—or if he was struggling, to pin all the blame on the girl he’s dating and completely ignore the thousands of other factors (no it can’t be mental illness or unaccommodated disability or systemic abuse or exploitation and if he is in an abusive relationship we won’t ever consider the factors that put him at risk for that)

and I’m not saying this fandom is like that. I get the need for privacy around some things and how in public conversations sometimes it’s a lot more respectful to stick to the positives (everyone who does that, I admire you) or even the struggles that are talked about publicly, show respect by not reading too far into them. there’s a time and place for that. but sometimes I feel like our only options are shitty and ableist gossip or totally ignoring the systemic and structural issues we know exist in something like the music industry until someone dies and then we’re looking for someone to blame. friends, there is a point where the respectful thing is to listen to what someone says and come together to make things better. and you can learn how to have that conversation respectfully. please do

[fallencelsetial]

Well. They wanted to talk about….nothing…..they’ve made it clear that they want nothing to do with all of my messy bits. And they are not willing to help……it’s a 3rd option that I never considered.

Just a “we don’t care.” No anger. No hatred. Just apathy.

I don’t know how I feel about this.

I’m relieved there was no emotional explosion.

But there’s also no conclusion.

I’m not going to get the help I need ever. It’s just still gonna be me and myself. Just me and myself trying to live as best we can.

[pergaminaa]

Modern au:

Manon is someone who is very focused and stressed and she’s just… a mess really. A perfectly put up together mess but a mess nonetheless.

Dorian was quick to notice that. He knows how stress-prone she is, and also how much she undereats. It’s easily seen that food goes out of the window when she is busy or stressed. She often forgets to eat or just loses her appetite altogether (which happens quite a lot).

This is why Dorian makes sure that every night Manon gets to have something nutritious to eat because he knows for a fact this is the only time she eats in the day because of how she is.

Also, she names things wrong. His brilliantly amazing girlfriend has no issues calling a sad green salad a meal and thinks nothing of it.

It’s why he puts his focus on dinner. Sure, she can claim the salad she had ten hours ago is 'proper food' but he draws the line at dinner.

He also learned of her taste- not quite picky, but Manon is particular with the food she eats and it can easily be assumed to be pickiness but Dorian knows it’s not the case.

It’s mostly an issue of texture, if it’s too slimy or runny she will not go near it. Dorian can easily avoid this by focusing on solid food and keeping any sauce or dressing aside because it’s as simple as that.

Mashed potatoes, porridge, and the like? She won’t even look at it because it makes her physically sick (ok she’s a bit dramatic with that but let’s give it to her). Luckily, she is okay with other things and food is not really an issue. The main problem is getting her to actually eat a balanced meal once a day which is not easy because she’s either working late, or stressed and feeling upset because of her grandmother, or she’s feeling too tired to do anything other than shower and sleep. This is the main battle, really. Manon doesn't prioritize food. She'd put everything else first and call it a day.

Dorian prides himself on cooking certain foods she normally wouldn’t touch in a certain way, and it’s the only time she eats the stuff because of how he makes them. His soft chocolate cookies are a prime example of that. And it made him feel brave enough to try it with brownies, and other foods as well (she ended up liking all of his modifications).

It’s the highlight of his day, planning on what to cook in the evening and spending his time perfecting these meals.

He hates how Manon is too stressed out to focus on food. He noticed how undernourished she was with how she bruised easily, indicating that her body lacks some nutrients (she takes supplements and thinks it solves the problem, but not on Dorian’s watch).

When she’s upset, Dorian pauses everything. He sits with her and comforts her while she cries it all out (because girl is tired okay. She also doesn't vent because that includes talking about things she doesn't understand so she just doesn't do it and Dorian understands) then he continues cooking while she takes a shower to put the miserable day behind her.

[lightanddarknessdragonlord]

can’t post this on insta considering a good chunk of my irls follow me there and they wouldn’t get this but i’ve been doing a lot better this week about keeping up with myself, i think

[imaginarypasta]

nothing grinds my gears quite like a second “why haven’t you responded to me yet” message a mere 1-2 days after the original text