#if u are wondering if this applies to u it Does

[stylestarkey]

the debutante’s dilemma (05)

𐙚 a rafe cameron social media and irl au

pairing   rafe cameron X carrera!reader

summary   spending every summer in the outer banks with your cousin kiara carrera were always a given—a break from the chaos of new york city. but this year is different. your mom, now an organiser for the annual debutante ball, is determined to introduce you to society. and you have a dilemma: finding the perfect escort.

warnings   swearing.

navigation   masterlist 04 05 06

liked by kiecarrera, rafecameron and 314 others

yn.carrera   a week in obx 🌺

view all comments

user1  when do you get back? ↳  yn.carrera  end of july!!

user2  nyc misses u ↳  yn.carrera  i miss u too 🥹

sarahcameron  send me our pic on imessage rn WE LOOK GOOD ↳  rafecameron  you can’t screenshot that shit? ↳  yn.carrera  insta makes the quality ass ↳  sarahcameron  ^ you get me !

kiecarrera  my fav cousin ↳  yn.carrera  i’m your only cousin…

ruthiethornton  too pretty ↳  yn.carrera  thanks ruthie!

ashleystevens  okayy cutie ↳  yn.carrera  💞💞

kathcruz  finest debutante in obx ↳  yn.carrera  brb crying you’re so sweet

topperthornton  who’s the girl on the left ↳ sarahcameron  hi ↳  yn.carrera  get outta here

rafecameron  cute ↳  rafecameron  nails ↳  yn.carrera  hm i wonder who chose the design 

rehearsal was going surprisingly well today. the movements felt smoother, more natural, like everyone was finally starting to get the hang of it. after spending more time with rafe, you’d grown comfortable around him—comfortable enough to exchange quick remarks and teasing glances in between steps.

now, during the break, you found yourself in the bathroom, washing your hands at the sink after using the toilet. the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, and the echo of distant chatter filled the empty space. just as you turned the faucet off, the door swung open.

ruthie and ashley walked in, their expensive perfume lingering in the air, mixing with the sharp scent of bathroom soap.

“oh, hey guys,” you greeted, forcing a small smile as you dried your hands.

ruthie met your gaze in the mirror, applying her lip balm with practiced ease. “you seem close with rafe, y/n.”

your stomach tensed slightly, but you shrugged. “he’s my escort. i guess he’s just… there.”

ashley let out a hum, exchanging a glance with ruthie. “see, we usually don’t warn rafe’s fuck buddies but since we actually like you…” ruthie trailed off, capping her lip balm with a sharp click. “you should be careful around him.”

you frowned. “i’m not his hookup.”

“doesn’t matter,” ashley said, examining her nails like this was just another casual conversation. “remember what he did to that girl in his junior year?”

ruthie shot her a warning look, but ashley just shrugged.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, your curiosity piqued despite the uneasy feeling settling in your chest.

ruthie sighed, tilting her head slightly. “fine. we’ll tell you, but you didn’t hear it from us.”

as if you had anyone else to hear it from.

“two years ago, rafe was dared to take this girl’s virginity. and after he got what he wanted?” she made a dramatic pause. “he left her. like she was nothing.”

ashley leaned against the sink, grinning like this was some juicy gossip. “she left school and never came back.”

your stomach twisted uncomfortably. you weren’t sure what to say. it felt like something straight out of a wattpad book—a bad boy, a bet, an innocent girl left heartbroken.

“wow, that’s shitty,” the words felt clumsy on your tongue.

ashley smirked. “i know, right? like, who does that?”

ruthie took a step closer, lowering her voice just slightly. “look, we’re just saying… don’t fall for his games, y/n.”

you inhaled sharply, grounding yourself. “i don’t think there’s any games in the first place, but thanks for telling me. we’re just friends.”

before either of them could say anything else, jasmine poked her head in. “you guys done? coach wants us back.”

you took that as your cue to leave, walking out without another word.

as you got back to the dance floor, rafe was already waiting for you, hands in his pockets.

“what took you so long? took a shit?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm lightly. “you’re so childish. ruthie and ashley were just telling me a story about you.”

his smirk faded instantly. “what did they say?”

you hesitated for a second too long, and his gaze darkened.

“what did they say?” his voice was sharper now, more demanding.

you sighed. “they said you messed around with a girl and was dared to… take her virginity or whatever. honestly, it sounded hardly believable.”

the second the words left your mouth, he stormed off, shoving the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

your stomach dropped.

“what’s wrong with cameron?” coach’s voice cut through the silence.

you blinked, still processing. “i—i don’t know.”

coach sighed. “well, go after him! what are you waiting for?”

you hesitated before finally running outside.

“rafe!” you called, but you were too late.

his car was already speeding off down the road, taillights glowing in the dimming light.

you stood there, heart hammering in your chest, wondering what exactly you’d said wrong.

navigation masterlist 04 05 06

note f that ho ruthie and ashley - H <3

comment to be in the taglist — @chaengist @starkeysfile @sexualparkour @dontknow3m @vivian-555 @amterasuu @baocean @luvrclub @neocockthotology @hooniel0v3 @cinnamon-girl4life @rafes4 @my-name-is-baby

[pillowspace]

hey, um!!! i absolutely adore your art and aus and writing and everything sososososo much but, since you ship sifloop and it is selfcest... whats ur perspective on like. the whole "selfcest is incest/worst than incest" debate. and how it applies/if it applies to sifloop at all. IM SORRY IF THIS IS A SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE QUESTION/TOPIC u can skip and just ignore this ask if u want!!! /gen /nf im just curious ur perspective since i enjoy sifloop dynamic So Much but i'm just. confused and a lil uncomfortable w/ actually shipping them romantically bc of. well. The Selfcest Factor :'D

Hey, it's okay!!! I don't really mention topics like that on my blog, I'm very tame in how I post, so I'll just shyly hide under a readmore for my answer <3

First of all, I don't see selfcest as incest. I think that if someone were to meet a clone of themself and see them as family, they very reasonably could, but that it itself is not a family situation on its own if no one has decided that. It's a "decide it, and it'll be" situation.

I understand that a lot of people are weirded out by selfcest, and I think that's very valid and reasonable, but I'm very used to it so it's just normal to me.

As for whether or not it's worse, I'm sure it can gross someone out WORSE than incest, that's fine, but I really don't believe a completely fictional concept that does not exist in the real world (even if you can get a tiny bit close) is like... morally worse. It's practically clay, you can shape it however you want.

Growing up around the concept of selfcest made me feel better about myself honestly. It's comforting to tell yourself "I love you," and I dealt with my self-worth issues as a kid by making selfcest OCs to process self-love through creation. Knowing that a fictional character could find worth and affection in themself as if looking at someone else always made me wonder if I could do that too, and that's quite possibly the least harmful thing I could have ever had that reaction towards. Whenever I felt bad, I felt more willing to "talk it out" with myself as if I was talking to someone separate, which made it easier to treat myself with kindness.

I also just generally think the word "selfcest" contributes to this ickiness around it, and I do dislike the word, but I try not to think about it much. It probably could have been named better.

Ultimately: anyone can not like it. That's okay. But at the end of the day, it's harmless and is as fictional as a vampire. And anyone can also not like vampires.

[gaydennisreynolds]

i love you anyone who is brave enough to have created Something and posted it online for others to see. you make the world go round

[shyesterin]

and did you know? u love me. that's right!

[atcmbmb]

hate having to post this but i have had zero interest in being here purely due to utter lack of responsiveness/interaction, gonna do a clean-up as a result. removing blogs that have liked/asked for starters yet left them hanging. removing blogs that have ignored/forgotten my dms. removing older mutuals who never replied to any calls or sent any memes. my rules are clear — i don't do reminders, and i do not want to be mutuals if you're not interested in actually writing. i dont EXPECT anyone to rp with me if they dont want to, but if you read my rules and still followed/followed back, or if you liked a plot/starter call, then i am completely confused as to why this keeps happening to me. why did you even follow me.

most of all the running pattern in this modern rpc of just forgetting about (or lbh, ignoring) dms, starters and the like, with zero consideration or qualms about it, is bizarre to me. id feel so ashamed if i asked someone for plots then left them hanging for weeks after they sent me a bloody list, yet apparently its the norm to do that nowadays. ppl who do this: i hope you realise how utterly demoralising and humiliating it is for the other party. maybe im a boomer, but i cannot believe this is how people treat each other in the rpc now. this wouldve never flown a few years ago.

[sweenstar-reblogs]

Me gritting my teeth watching West Europe devolve slowly into Overt Nazism (again)

[jenny-dreadful]

yk when someone confidently slides on their socks into a complex ongoing discourse to be like “um actually. [term] means [thing] 💅” all smug, and expect to be taken seriously, not realizing they completely lack a concept of a specific and contextually-applicable usage which everybody else here already understands. <<<<<<<<<

[old-knightsvow]

its really so funny bc house is all are you cheating on your wife AGAIN 😁? and wilson is like 🙄 noooo i love my wife can you stoppppppp (he very much is cheating on her)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Malleus Draconia: Made Up

… Why does Malleus continue to have some of the most “hey are u lost bbg” facial expressions + poses ever on his initial birthday card artworks… 💀

He really looks like his mom when his hair is all pinned back like in his alt and Groovy look. xbjsbsjww The makeup products he’s using… They look like Giorgio Armani ��

Rise and Shine!

Humans were blessed with two hands with which to do all of their work. Malleus Draconia had no need for either of his.

Lipstick, liquid eyeshadow, and finishing powder lifted into the air, glowing an eerie green. They uncapped and began applying themselves, gliding easily across his lips, painting his lids, and patting down his pale skin. Already, a cloth was busy polishing his horns, and a brush ran through his hair. A mirror, magically suspended before him, displayed his regal visage--a work of art slowly coming into its peak form.

You had heard Scarabia's vice dorm leader mention that he used magic to do his hair--a complex, precise process--but had never in your life witnessed a show like this. You clapped for Malleus, as if a spectator that had just seen a most wonderous trick.

He cut you a curious look. "May I ask why the applause, child of man?"

"It's just so cool seeing you use your magic," you replied truthfully. "There's so many things happening at once, it's hard to know where to keep my eyes. You're really amazing!"

There was a sound akin to a stifled chortle. These, you had grown accustomed to.

"You never cease to surprise. This is but a modicum of what I am capable of." He almost seemed to pout as he said it, as if itching to demonstrate the full extent of his powers. Wanting praise for something more.

"Oh, trust me. I know you are--but it's nice to see the Malleus Draconia using his magic to do normal, everyday stuff too." You grinned, ducking behind him to peek into his mirror. Your gazes met in the sparkling glass. "I wish everyone could see this."

"It is hardly a matter of importance to share the details of my morning routine with the masses. Besides, Grandmother would no doubt grant me a thorough scolding for allowing myself to be seen in such an improper state.”

He yawned, and a hand moved to cover his mouth, where you caught a glimpse of pointed canines. A rare moment of cuteness, of vulnerability. A side of himself kept private. Such a mundane thing--it reminded you that he, too, was but a student, preparing to tackle another day.

"Maybe not, but then again… maybe they'd see what I see too."

You quirked a brow. "And what is it that you see?"

"That you're not as scary as whatever scary made-up version of yourself they have in their heads. It's not all doom and gloom, wrath and lightning. You're someone that laughs and cries too."

"... Do they have that impression of me?" Malleus brought a hand to his chin. "Odd. When I last conversed with a peer of mine, they were so elated to be in my presence that they fainted on the spot. Lilia commended me for making such a strong impression on them."

"Erm... Lilia might not be the best judge for that." You poked at the corners of your mouth. "You have a nice smile, so how about showing it more? That might draw people to you."

"Hmmm. Like this, perhaps?"

He attempted to imitate you. The result was an awkward facsimile of your smile. Not quite the same curve, and with the tips of his fangs poking out. His eyes, still ominous.

Clumsy, but a little dangerous.

Your heart sprouted wings and fluttered. “It’s a good start! You’ll get the hang of it with more practice.”

Malleus sighed, and at once, the items that had been hovering around him collapsed along with his breath. “This is a conundrum. As a public figure and representative of my country, it’s imperative that I maintain my reputation.”

The fluttering in your chest settled like a stone sinking into the bottom of a lake. A sudden weight, a sadness, sitting in your stomach. He cut a gallant figure--but without the fairy lights and fire, he was but a pitiful creature trapped within stone walls.

Lonely and misunderstood.

Without a word, you slipped a hand into his. Malleus felt cold to the touch, like some long-forgotten relic dug up from some ruins.

His eyes shot wide open with alarm. "What are you..."

"Let's walk to class like this," you suggested softly. "I know you wouldn't harm me. If everyone else can see that... they'd understand, right?"

Shock flooded Malleus's face. Then, like a flash of lightning and a fleeting bellow of thunder, it was over, replaced by the faintest chuckle.

"... Very well." He squeezed your hand, the motion sending sparks of electricity through you. "I would not be opposed to this. If they are to weave tall tales, then all we must do is flip the script and write a story of our own to combat theirs."

[rhiannswork]

hii i was wondering if u could write something about a pool party that morgan throws, so ofc bau!reader and the rest of the team goes. spencer gets in the pool and everybody is speechless when they notice the scratches on his back. unbeknown to your involvement.

the water’s fine.

spencer ᕁ bau!reader

warnings: allusions to sex, suggestive if you squint with a monocle, smart reid (i did some research for that btw lolol), private relationships, hmm i think that’s it!

"hey, yln made it after all!" morgan exclaimed while relaxing by the pool, drink in hand. "sorry, guys. i had a bit of trouble finding a good bathing suit," you explained, not entirely truthful about the reason for your tardiness. in reality, you and spencer got sidetracked once you found the perfect suit, causing both of you to arrive late. yet somehow, spencer managed to beat you to morgan’s location.

as morgan gestured towards spencer, he reassured, "don’t worry, pretty boy just arrived." emily found it amusing, asking "who reads at a pool party?" while opening her soda can. "spencer reid does," jj responded as she sat beside the pool with her feet dangling in the water, earning a laugh from penelope who was sunbathing on a unicorn float.

"hey derek, do you have any more of those floats? i think i’m going to get in the pool." you placed your bag by the patio table and started to apply some sunblock. "sure thing, i’ll go inflate it." "thank you!" you shouted as he walked away from the group.

as you applied the rest of your sunblock, you couldn't help but notice the chatter of your colleagues. you walked over to spencer, who was deep into reading his book. "hey handsome," you whispered, making sure only he could hear you. spencer raised his head, squinting as he blocked the sun with his hand. "hi baby," he replied with the same volume. "are you planning to get in the pool, or will you stay here and read?" you giggled. "i’m going to finish this book," he said with a shrug. "suit yourself!" you walked off.

soon after, morgan returned holding a heart-shaped floatie which he handed to you before returning to his chair. you threw the floatie into the pool and gradually got in after it. descending the pool steps, you winced as the cold water rushed over your body. "why is it always freezing when you first get in the pool?" you complained as you reached for the heart-shaped floatie.

“the cold going into the pool is actually a result of conduction of heat. see, water is a much better conductor of heat rather than air. energy can flow from your body quicker than it would if you were surrounded by air at the same temperature. even if the water is much warmer than the air, you would still feel cool getting in.” spencer answered your rhetorical question.

"let’s not ask reid any science questions today," penelope giggled as she took a sip of her soda can. "my apologies," he chuckled, refocusing on the final chapter of his book. you shook your head and repositioned yourself in the float, finally finding a comfortable spot.

"spencer, come join us in the pool, the water is great!" jj exclaimed, eyeing the artificial waterfall nearby. "but I'm not finished with my book," spencer whined. "if he doesn't want to swim, that's okay," you shrugged as you started to float around in the pool.

he’s knows you, he’s caught on to what he calls the ‘yn trend’. when you say “that’s okay, it’s fine” he knows what you really mean. he huffed and placed his book down and walked over to the pool.

"i knew you would," you teased as you made your way to the edge of the pool. spencer removed his shirt and you couldn't help but keep your eyes on his body. "wow, spence! you’ve got the body and the brains," penelope commented, lifting her sunglasses for a better look.

"i’ll only be here for a few minutes," he muttered before diving into the pool. the sudden rush of coldness left him shivering, but he quickly adjusted and began to swim around. as he explored the refreshing waters, he found himself falling in love with the pool.

"spence what’s going on with your back?" jj tilted her head. spencer turned to face jj and emily, who had come over. emily commented, "it’s so red." spencer lifted up slightly and morgan asked, "pretty boy, are you allergic to chlorine? you should've told me earlier." "i’m not allergic! i don't know what you guys are talking about." he raised his voice, combing his wet hair back.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation that had erupted about spencer’s back. you looked over to see penelope inspecting him. “it looks like scratches… reid are you seeing someone?”

you could tell that spencer was caught off guard by penelope’s question. he stuttered a bit before responding, "uh, no, i’m not seeing anyone." penelope didn't seem convinced. “okay i know i’m not a profiler like you guys but this doesn’t just happen.” she traced the scratches with the pad of her finger.

you watched spencer becoming slightly uncomfortable with the questions of his dating status. “spencer, let’s go see if it really is scratches from fingernails.” you slipped off the plastic float and went to grab a towel to wrap around your body. spencer followed you into morgan’s home and slid the patio door to limit the cool air from coming in.

“jesus, did i really do that?” you spun spencer around to look at his back. “you did.” he chuckled throwing his head down. “‘m sorry…” you felt a little guilty, you didn’t mean for him to become a target of interrogation.

“don’t worry about it… i like it when i make you feel good.” he smiled with his hand on your face, his thumb slightly grazing your face. “yeah?” you slightly smiled. “mhm.” you reached for his lips until you heard the door open.

“and now we know who the culprit is.” morgan laughed with a empty glass of piña colada of his hand.

[bloomzone]

THE "LUCKY VICKY" MINDSET !

The Lucky Vicky Mindset or jang wonyoung mindset was created by Jang Wonyoung herself combining "lucky" with her English name "Vicky" (stand for Victory )to share her positive mindset that it's abt choosing a perspective that helps you move forward with confidence so this mindset is about understanding that your attitude shapes your experiences and that seeing yourself as "lucky" isn’t about chance but about the way you navigate challenges, setbacks n success.cuz It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when things don’t go as planned. Whether it’s struggling in school, facing criticism, or dealing with self-doubt, the natural reaction is often frustration or discouragement. But if u shift by thinking like : What if, instead of seeing obstacles as signs of failure, you saw them as redirections toward something better?

This mindset isn’t about ignoring problems it’s about handling them with clarity and resilience. "So how do you develop it?" u need to :

ஐ - 𝟷. ʀᴇғʀᴀᴍɪɴɢ sᴇᴛʙᴀᴄᴋs

There will always be moments when things don’t go your way. Maybe you didn’t get the opportunity you wanted, maybe people misunderstand you, or maybe you feel like progress is slow. The lucky vicky Mindset teaches us that nothing is truly working against us—it’s just working differently than we expected.A well-known example what wonnie said "This happened during a tour when I visited Spain. At that time, I waited a long time at a famous bakery, but all the bread in front of me was sold out. They told me that if I waited a little longer, fresh bread would come out. I thought, ‘That’s Lucky Vicky,’ because I could eat freshly made bread. I shared that story with my fans, and from then on, ‘Lucky Vicky’ spread instantly and became a popular meme.” It’s a small moment, but it reflects a powerful way of thinking it mean that Instead of focusing on what didn’t happen, focus on what’s still possible.This applies to bigger situations too. Didn’t get the result you wanted? It’s a chance to adjust your approach. Lost an opportunity? Maybe it wasn’t the right one, and something better is coming. Feeling stuck? That means growth is happening, even if you can’t see it yet.The way you choose to interpret setbacks determines whether they drain you or empower you.

ஐ - 𝟸. ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

Wonyoung is often criticized online, but her response to negativity is simple: “No problem, I don’t care. You are you, and I am me.” This isn’t about arrogance or something but it’s about understanding that not everything requires your energy.If you spend too much time thinking about what others say, replaying negative moments, or trying to justify yourself, you lose focus on what actually matters. Some opinions do not need to be addressed. Some people are not worth your time.That doesn’t mean ignoring constructive feedback, but it does mean choosing where you place your attention. The Lucky Vicky Mindset is about knowing when to engage and when to walk away because your energy is too valuable to be wasted on things that don’t help you grow.Jang Wonyoung also said in a show interview : "I believe there is energy in thoughts and words. When I got anxious and negative thoughts, I tried to correct them positively. In the end, there was no wrong path even if I looked at where I am now,"

ஐ - 𝟹. ғᴏᴄᴜs ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇss

Comparison is one of the biggest traps in personal growth. Social media makes it easy to see others succeeding and wonder why you’re not at their level. But the truth is, no one’s journey looks the same and no one has it all figured out.Wonyoung has been in the spotlight since she was a teenager, constantly compared to others, yet she stays focused on her own path.

🗝️:You don’t need to be ahead of anyone else you just need to be ahead of where you were yesterday.

Instead of thinking:

"Why am I not as successful as them?"

Try:

"What small step can I take today to improve?"

Your timeline is your own. Trust that your progress is happening at the right pace for you.

ஐ - 𝟺. ᴄᴏɴғɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

A lot of people wait to feel "ready" before taking action. They think confidence comes when they finally have everything figured out. But in reality, confidence grows through experience, not through waiting.Wonyoung didn’t become poised and self-assured overnight. She gained confidence by stepping into situations that challenged her. The only way to become good at something is to do it, even when it’s uncomfortable.So, whether it’s speaking up more, taking on new challenges, or stepping outside your comfort zone, start before you feel fully prepared. Confidence isn’t about never making mistakes but it’s about knowing that mistakes won’t break u

ஐ - 𝟻. ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴀss ɪs ʜᴀʟғ ғᴜʟʟ

I want to add something about positive and negative thinking for the setback part

People often say, "The glass is half full" to mean optimism and "The glass is half empty" to mean pessimism. The Lucky Vicky Mindset takes it a step further.

wony once said, “I was about to drink water after practice, and just about half a cup was left. I had hoped for just about half because it would be too much to drink all of it and not enough if it was too little. I am totally a ‘Lucky Vicky!’”

That it’s about seeing things as aligned for you. It’s not about forcing happiness or pretending everything is perfect. It’s about trusting that what’s in front of you is just right cuz The way you interpret situations shapes your reality so this way of thinking removes the pressure to categorize things as "good" or "bad." It allows you to move with life instead of resisting it. When you start seeing every outcome as something that fits into your journey, you naturally feel more at peace, less anxious, and more confident that things are unfolding the way they should.

So instead of asking, “Is my glass half full or half empty?” try thinking, “Maybe this is exactly the amount I was meant to have.”

@bloomzone

This mindset allows you to be present, grateful, and naturally attract opportunities. When you believe that life is working with u, rather than against you, everything starts to feel like a lucky break even the things you didn’t expect.i hope y'all like this blog and thank you for the love and support ! have a lucky Vicky day 🍀

[shinysobi]

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst

word count: 10k~ish

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply

a/n: angst central again lmao but there's something good for everyone ig hehe also dedicated to gigi, who's been the first reader of this hehe

a/n 2: reblogs/comments/likes are, as always, much appreciated! tell me if you like it lmao

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Chapter 3

I learnt, at a very young age, that the best thing to do in any situation, is to ultimately do nothing. If you do nothing, then you will never fail. I’ve managed to spend my entire life doing the bare minimum, but right now? Right now, with Jihoon’s face half a feet away from mine, close enough for me to see the dried tears on his cheeks, I begin to wonder if it’s the best thing to do.

“You should say something,” Jihoon says, wiping his face, “I didn’t run half a mile uphill just for you to say nothing.”

What does he actually want me to say? I’ve furiously racked my brain to find the correct words to say to him; in the aftermath of the argument, but I’ve always come up empty. Its odd, and strangely humbling, this experience. Should I even say something? Am I allowed to? Jihoon stares at me, and it’s only then that I realise, he’s still holding my hands.

“I’m sorry.” I say, “I’m sorry for everything I said that night.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have forced all those decisions on you when you were not—are not ready.” Jihoon says, “but I really can’t imagine myself in a world where I am not your friend.”

He leans down, picking up a plant, “for your kitchen garden. Your chive plant died last month.”

I take it from him, the lingering warmth of his hands on my skin, “this is your idea of a housewarming gift?”

“This is all I could get at such short notice,” he replies, “all the other stores were closed, so I got this from a street vendor.”

“That’s—unexpectedly sweet of you, Jihoon,” I say, turning to place the pot on the floor, “do you want to come in?”

Jihoon nods, before slipping off his shoes and his jacket, entering my still-unfurnished house. All of a sudden, I’m self-conscious about the state of the place, even if he has seen worse. What am I doing, getting worked up over Jihoon entering my home?

“Look,” he begins, standing in the middle of the kitchen, “these past few weeks have been a personal kind of hell for me. I know you don’t care, but I’m just putting it out there. Life without you, without seeing you every day, without talking to you, has been hell, and I don’t want to live in it anymore.”

“Jihoon,” I begin, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.

“I’ve felt like shit, knowing that you’re just out of my reach, to the point where even if I reach for you, you won’t be able to see me, to talk to me, to be the kind of person I know and love, and it’s been excruciating, having to live with that knowledge.”

“Jihoon, what are you trying to get at?”

He takes a deep breath, as if readying himself for something horrible, “what I mean to say, is that I lied.”

“What? You lied about what, Jihoon?”

“It’s about—” he throws up his hands, “don’t you have any alcohol around here? Why do I have to have this conversation with you while sober?”

“Jihoon, I just moved in today. Of course, I don’t have alcohol, you idiot.” I cross my arms over my chest, “if you have nothing else to say, then you should leave. It’s getting late, and I have a lot of work left to do around the house tomorrow. If all you came here for was to apologise  then it’s fine, I accept your apology—”

“Damn, woman, will you let me finish? I’m trying to get at something!”

“Well then, get at it faster!”

“I lied about getting over you!”

One thing I hate about this apartment is how silent it is.  In my previous apartment, at all times of the night, there would be someone making a noise, and I hated how it would disturb my sleep. Right now, there’s silence. There’s silence and then there’s us, standing in the half-dark. Jihoon looks like he wants to say something, but has been holding himself back. 

“What-what do you mean?” I say, after what seems like a lifetime, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I said that I lied about getting over you. I liked you back when I was doing my military service, and I still like you now.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I can assure you, I’m just as serious about this as I am with my work.”

“Then are you saying—”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I think I’ll continue liking you for a long time.”

“Jihoon, I don’t like you like that.”

“I know,” Jihoon looks pained, and for the first time in my life, I want to lie and say that no, Jihoon, I like you too, but I can’t, “look, my feelings are my own. You don’t have to reciprocate them. You and I are separate people, and I don’t want to impose my feelings on you.”

“Then why did you say all this?” my voice communicates all my frustration, “then why did you come here and tell me all this, if you didn’t want to sway me? You were the person who kept telling me to move on, and now you come here and tell me this?”

“Because I felt like I was dying!” Jihoon yells, “not talking to you, not seeing you, not being able to text you, all this made me feel like I was dying. I didn’t tell you anything because I wanted to preserve our friendship, but when I can’t see you around, my heart feels as though it’s stopped functioning. All I could think about was you.”

“Jihoon,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my frustrations, “you don’t like me in a romantic light.”

“Don’t presume my feelings.”

“I’m not! I’m just pointing out that we have been friends for a long time, and that your feelings for me might just be you overthinking your feelings of friendship and thinking its something else when really, its just friendship. I don’t think you like me romantically, Jihoon. I think you’re just confused.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything for a long time. I would have felt better if he had cursed me, or if he had become angry, but all that remains of Jihoon right now, in this moment, is someone whose feelings are replaced with—just nothing.

Jihoon checks his watch, “look, it’s late, you should get some sleep.”

He turns around,  opening the door, and pauses for a moment before turning around. “I don’t care if you’ve stopped, or if you’re terrified of moving forward. I’ll stay there with you until you’re ready. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“And another thing.”

“Yes?” I ask, voice cracking in the middle of the word. This is going to haunt me in my nightmares.

“Your dream,” Jihoon says, hand on the door handle, “I’ll help you fulfil it. No matter what it takes.”

—

Seungkwan is at my door the next morning, even before I’m fully dressed, carrying a box of Jeju oranges. Even before I can open the door fully, he’s in my apartment, staring at my face. 

“My mom sent these for you, by the way,” he says, then takes a look at my face, “whoa, Sunbae, you look like you haven’t slept all night.”

“I know, I know,”  I mutter, “just had some things to think about, that’s all.”

“Think about?” Seungkwan starts to unpack my crockeries, “you look like hell. I’m not kidding, you look awful.”

“Wow, thanks, Seungkwan, that sounds like a great compliment.” I mutter, settling down into a chair, “coming into my home on a Saturday and telling me I look ugly, way to make a girl feel great.”

“I’m not being sarcastic, I’m concerned. There’s a difference.” He sits in the chair next to mine, “is there anything I can help with?”

“Seungkwan, you’re sweet, but this is something I can’t really talk about.” I mutter, “some things aren’t meant to be shared with everyone.”

And really, what can I say? ‘oh, don’t worry, Seungkwan, my best friend since university, the person with whom I haven’t been talking to for the past few weeks, came to my apartment last night to confess that he had feelings for me?’ How does one even begin that conversation? Not to mention the embarrassment that Jihoon would face if I were to ever spill the beans to the guys. He’s always been intensely private, even in his romantic affairs. To spill his secrets would just be cruel.

It's really, really not as though I haven’t received romantic confessions. There have been people who have asked me out, who have said that they liked me, from university classmates to people at work. Even in school, when all I could think about were university entrance examinations, and how I had to get into a university in Seoul because that was where my sister went too, I had a few people tell me they had feelings for me, I have had people get angry when I turned them down, I’ve had people get sad when I said, no, I’m sorry. Yet, all this feels new. What do you actually say when someone you’ve known for years, tells you that they hold feelings for you? What is the appropriate thing to say, especially if you don’t know what your own feelings are?

“You know, I grew up with three older sisters, right?”

“Yes, you keep reminding me of it every other day.”

“Yes, so,” Seungkwan leans forward, inspecting my face, “you look like you’ve got something weighing down on your mind. And while I might not be Joshua-hyung or Jihoon-hyung, I can be a pretty good listener.”

“No, I don’t think I can tell you this. It’s not my secret to tell, and even then, I don’t want to burden you with something that shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place.”

“Sunbae,” Seungkwan asks, “does this have anything to do with Jihoon-hyung?”

I stare at him. “When did you get so fucking perceptive?”

“So, it is,” he leans back in his chair, self-satisfied and smug as hell, “I knew it. I knew he’d do something like this.”

“You knew?” I ask, and Seungkwan nods, “you knew, and you didn’t think of telling me? not even once? Not even a single heads-up?”

“And? What would we even say? ‘Jihoon-hyung likes you, please be advised he might try to confess his feelings?’ Would you have even liked it?”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shake my head, “really? This is something everyone knew about?”

Seungkwan nods, “I think most of us are aware of Jihoon-hyung’s feelings towards you, given how he acts.”

I hold up a hand, “Wait, pause. How he acts? What do you mean, how he acts? I’ve never seen him be anything other than perfectly normal with me.”

“That’s the problem with you,” Seungkwan clarifies, “your baseline is different when it comes to Jihoon-hyung. He treats you much more differently than he does all of us, and you’ve never noticed? Not even once?”

“No, clearly, I haven’t, Seungkwan, explain.”

Seungkwan takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts into a proper sequence, and begins, “well, for once, he always does what you want, even if he is initially against it. With anyone else? You can’t even convince him to lift a single finger, but he drove all the way to the restaurant that one time, dropping the recording for Soonyoung’s new album. Sure, he didn’t get in trouble, but he did that just because you called.”

“He ran out of a recording session?” I have to repeat myself, because in all the years that I have known Jihoon, he’s always put his work before everything else. In university, he spent days and nights in the makeshift recording studio he had in his home, only venturing out to get food once every two days. Even his recording studio was off-limits to us, until he had finished working on a project. That Jihoon left Soonyoung in the middle of a recording session to come pick me up because I was drunk? “Should I apologise to Soonyoung?”

“The only person you should be apologising to, is me,” Seungkwan send me a dirty look that would have anyone else cringing, “I come here to help you unpack and decorate your home, and this is what I have to hear?”

“You’re a traitor. You’ve been hiding Jihoon’s feelings from me for god knows how long, and now you expect me to be nice to you? Get a grip on yourself.”

“This is,” Seungkwan wags a finger at me, “this is just shooting the messenger. You think the others haven’t kept his secret from you?”

“What? Even Jeonghan-oppa? He’s betrayed me too?”

Seungkwan smiles, “there are no allies in this stupid game you both are playing. We’ve all known about his feelings ever since he came back from the military and hung up that stupid photo of the two of you on his wall. He would have had it framed it if the quality wasn’t like it was taken on a microwave.”

I think about the picture, Jihoon with the flat cap and me beside him, flashing a wide, toothy smile. “He tried to get it framed?”

“Seungcheol-hyung had to talk him out of it, because it’s insane, having a picture of another girl framed and putting in your bedroom while you’re trying to get a girlfriend is not the best thing to do, in retrospect.”

“Ah yes, wasn’t this when he was dating the music major? The intern at the office?” I’m trying to keep my voice light, but unfortunately, I know everything about his past relationships, the serious and the casual. The girls at university, the intern he dated for a month before she dumped him, and the office worker who he dated for a year before she finally grew sick of him and left. “I don’t remember them that well.”

“Liar. You remember every detail.” Seungkwan grins, “just like Jihoon-hyung can recite the names of all your exes backwards if he wanted to, “You remember every detail about all of Jihoon-hyung’s relationships. Yes, this was when he was dating the intern, and Seungcheol-hyung pointed out that it probably would not be the best look to frame a picture of the girl your girlfriend hates, and put it in your bedroom where you could see it every morning and every night.”

“May we all thank Seungcheol-oppa for his infinite wisdom.” I say, and Seungkwan gives me a high five, “wait, she hated me? but I was nice to her! And not fake nice, which is what I generally am, I was actually nice to her!”

“She still hated you, though. There was nothing you could do about that relationship.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s the same the other way around, too. Remember when you were dating that artist who hated the idea of Jihoon-hyung being around?”

“Oh, him? I remember that. He once tore down all the pictures I had with Jihoon, insisting that I was cheating on him. in his defence, we were twenty-three, so, I don’t blame him for making bad choices.”

Seungkwan groans, “this way, it’s going to take at least a hundred years before you wake up, too. Sunbae! Have you not realised it yet, or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Realised what?”

“That you like hyung as well? That its not just him who’s chasing, but also you?”

I scoff, “no, I don’t like Jihoon! I don’t know why you are saying this, but I don’t like Jihoon. He’s simply a friend of mine.”

“You once drove to Hwacheon in the middle of winter for his birthday.”

“That’s different! It was his birthday, he was in the military, I had to do something! Besides, he only got one day for his leave, and none of you guys could go.”

“Sunbae, driving to Hwacheon is a bit too much, don’t you think?” Seungkwan stares at me, “you’re telling me you drove through snow and went halfway to North Korea for your friend?”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” I wail, falling onto the floor on a heap, “all I know is that I want Jihoon in my life. I can’t live without him; these past few weeks, its as though life has lost its meaning for me. I don’t find my work fun anymore; I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore. I can’t give him up.”

“I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty romantic to me.”

I narrow my eyes, “you’re just enjoying the fun, aren’t you?”

Seungkwan giggles, “and what if I tell you I am?”

“I’d kill you.”

Seungkwan says nothing, just continues to grin as though he’s watching a sitcom, or a variety show. What would a variety show based on my life look like? Something like I Live Alone, but entirely for people struggling with romance problems; if I worked in a bigger broadcasting company,  I would have pitched this idea. People would get on there, and just talk about their romance problems.

“Sunbae—no, noona.”

Seungkwan calling me by the familiar honorific catches my attention. Since I have known him, Seungkwan has never once referred to me in that familiar a tone, always with the more respectful sunbae, reserved for departmental seniors. Especially since joining the news desk, he has refused to call me anything but. It gives me a sense of respect, obviously, but it also seems as though he has always kept me at arm’s length.

“You’re being familiar with me, Seungkwan,” I say, “what’s happened?”

He sits next to me on the floor, staring at me, “noona, have you ever really done anything for yourself?”

I give him a look. “What do you mean, if I have done anything for myself? Everything I do is for myself; I think we’ve established that. If you made a list of the most selfish people you know, I would probably rank top five in there.”

“That’s what you think. You always keep talking about how you’re doing things for yourself, but in reality, all you do, is based on the needs of others.”

“I think you’re trying to make me into a martyr, Seungkwan, when all I have done is be a selfish person.”

“I also think that you consider yourself to be a selfish person because that’s what you’ve been taught to believe.”

“Seungkwan,” I say, mildly, “look at the society we live in. its either hyper individualistic, or it’s based on outdated systems of collective identity; either way, I’m not actually doing anything I want to do myself. It is all things I’ve been taught. How to be, how to act, how to think.”

“And that isn’t wrong, per se, but you have to think, at some point, that your existence is based on how others think of you. Even with Jihoon-hyung, you’re just going off of what we might think of you, what he might think of you. Have you even figured out your own feelings?”

“And what if we break up? What if I say to Jihoon, that yes, I’d like to date you too, but we break up soon? Within one month, two months? I’m terrified of losing him, to the point where I’m happy to be his friend just to keep him in my life. Why else do you think I rejected him?”

“You rejected him?” Seungkwan screeches, “noona, you’re in love with him, and you rejected him?”

“Being friends with him is more important to me than being his girlfriend,” I say, “to be his girlfriend is something I don’t want to imagine.”

“Because you don’t want to be his girlfriend, or because you don’t want to get your hopes up?”

I groan, lying back down on the floor, “I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it either.”

Seungkwan smiles, “hey maybe, you should try and think about what you want to do, before doing what everyone else expects of you. Even if that’s what you are going to end up doing anyway, maybe, you should at least be aware of what you want.”

—

On Monday, I walk into the office with my eyes bloodshot, and dark circles underneath them, ten minutes after the team meeting has begun. Both the Editor and the Assistant Editor take one look at my face and decide not to tell me anything for showing up late to the meeting.

“We were talking about your column, Sunbae,” Haewon says as I nurse my coffee, “the readers loved it. We’ve been getting so many responses and letters to the office after you began the column.”

“We are?” I ask, “who the hell is screening through the letters, then?”

“I am,” the Assistant Editor says, “I figured you didn’t need one more thing on your plate, and I sorted out whatever you had to. For the first time in a long while, we have fan mail coming to the office.”

“Huh?” I catch the last part of that sentence, “we have fan mail?”

“Yes, and a lot of it, too,” the Assistant editor smiles at me, “at this rate, we might start a radio show if we have the funds for it.”

“We’ll never have the funds for it,” I wave a hand, “having a radio show is out of the question.”

“Still, it seems nice that the desk is getting a lot of other attention too, other than doing book reviews and movie reviews.” The editor says.

“You do realise, all this is coming at the expense of my sleep?” I grumble, “this is the worst idea you could ever have. A radio show? I can barely talk to people. You want me to go on a show and talk to people in real-time?”

“Yes, yes, which is why we are not thinking about it,” the Editor clarifies, “you just need to continue writing the column as you have been. That much is enough for the desk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sunbae,” Seungkwan slides an energy drink towards me, “it’s enough for the desk if you just do things as they come by. No one is asking you to do more than what’s required.”

“You say that now, Seungkwan, but pretty soon they’ll be asking favours from you, too.” I smile at him, “don’t let anyone walk over you here. Its difficult to stop them once you’ve begun letting them have their way.”

During lunch break, Seungkwan sidles up to me in the cafeteria, where the members of the desk have congregated (on news of them serving galbi-tang), and asks, “Sunbae, have you finished moving in? Jeonghan-hyung wanted me to invite you to a party this weekend.”

“Why didn’t he invite me himself?” I ask through a mouthful of beef, “has he lost my number?”

“No, he’ll probably invite you personally, but he wanted me to tell you beforehand.”

I narrow my eyebrows, “what am I, some sort of minister? Why are there levels of protocol when approaching me for an event?”

Seungkwan shrugs, “you know how Jeonghan-hyung is. You once told him you were uncomfortable at a party, and he’s taken that to heart ever since.”

I roll my eyes. The party in question was one thrown in the first year of university, after appropriate introductions had been made, and me and Jihoon had been invited out to a party by Joshua and his friends, where I got blind drunk and regretted it the next morning. Ever since that night, the boys have been particular about when to invite me out, none more so than Jeonghan, who apparently vetted all his invitations through Seungkwan, “tell him I’ll be there. And from now on, don’t let him vet his applications through you. If he wants to invite me out, he can call me himself. I don’t mind.”

“You do realise, if I relay your message verbatim to hyung, he’s going to be even more cautious of you?”

“Well, I’ll tell him myself, then.”

“Don’t tell him.”

I stare at Seungkwan, who looks serious, “really, sunbae, let other people care about you once in a while. Jeonghan-hyung is only mindful of your boundaries because he doesn’t want to overstep. He doesn’t see you as a burden, or as someone he needs to treat with kid gloves for the rest of his life.”

“Well, doesn’t matter what he thinks. If he continues to treat me like I’m a child, others might get annoyed with his actions.”

“Others? You mean the people that respect you and are cognizant of your boundaries and your shortcomings?” Seungkwan places a piece of meat in my rice bowl, I’m almost done with eating, “sunbae, people that make accommodations for you aren’t doing it because they secretly hate you, or that they’re bothered by your presence in events. They’re doing it because they want you to be there, and they like you enough to go out of their way to make a place for you at the table.”

“Seungkwan, this is much more complicated than that.”

“I don’t see why it has to be so complicated,” he says, standing up, “you keep being kind to people, but when they want to extend that same kindness to you, you reject it, saying its excessive. Aren’t you hurting yourself in the long run?”

“Seungkwan,” I hold my head in my hands, “I can’t just change my way of thinking.”

“Yes, I know,” he shakes his head, “just that—you should try at least.”

—

When I enter my apartment that evening, there’s a cloud hanging over my head. Its not simply the absence of Jihoon, but also Seungkwan’s words. To think that I haven’t been trying to accept the attentions of people, well, why am I trying to deny it? its correct.

My phone rings, and I pick it up without even checking the caller ID, “hello?”

“I had to hear from Jihoon that you had moved.”

I sigh. This is the last think I wanted to do at this moment, have a conversation with my mother, “sorry, I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to talk to anyone. I was too busy with work these past few weeks.”

“Still, it would have been nice to know that you moved, from you, and not from Jihoon.”

“Wait, mom, why—why are you talking to Jihoon instead of me?”

My mother laughs on the other end. It’s a nice thing, to hear her laugh, “because Jihoon, no, not just him, all of your friends call me more than you do. Jihoon even came by our house a few weeks ago, and had a meal with us.”

I sigh, “really, Jihoon—he’s going to piss me off at this rate.”

“No, don’t take out your frustrations on Jihoon. He’s a nice boy.”

I wonder how my mother would react if I told her that her ‘nice boy’ stormed into my apartment and told me he was in love with me ever since he went for his military service. She would probably jump with joy. “Sorry, mom,” I say, hoping my thoughts aren’t seeping into my voice, “I just started a new column at work.”

“Really? That’s so nice, I hope they aren’t overworking you.”

“No, mom, they’re not. I came home right on time today.”

“That’s good.” She says. I say nothing. What else is there to say? For someone who’s been alienated form their family for so long, all that remains is a string of hollow formalities and conversations that die out in a moment.

“How’s my sister?” I ask, in an effort to continue the conversation, “has she talked to you recently?”

My mother perks right up, “have I told you, your sister is getting married? She’s marrying Yong-Hwa in the spring. Has she not told you yet?”

In fact, my sister had told me, had told me how she was getting married to the love of her life, a prosecutor, and how she was envisioning the rest of her life with him, with children, a happy home, and more. It made me jealous; to see someone achieve their dreams when you are struggling with your own is not an easy thing.

“I heard,” I say, “how’s dad? Are his health problems persisting? Should I send more vitamins?”

“No, no, he’s perfectly fine. He’s still working as a lawyer, even though the doctor has told him not to. He says he’ll continue to work till he’s eighty.”

“Hah…dealing with father is tiring, isn’t it?” I groan, “I’ll come down the next time I get some time off. I’ll talk him into retiring properly.”

“You don’t have to do that,” my mother says, “knowing that you’re working hard is good enough for me, at least, this way, I can think that you’re doing well.”

“That’s good, then,” I reply, “sorry, mom, I’m getting another call. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, but don’t go for too long without talking to us.”

This is fine. To know that my parents are doing well, its okay. I can hold on for longer if that’s what helps them. I’ll be the daughter they’re proud of.

—

I’ve been wandering for far too long. Always trying to be the best version of myself. But what lies at the end of this journey? Is it just a means of fulfilling my parents’ wishes?

On most days, I want to be alone. So, I push people away, just to benefit myself. It has got nothing to do with how I feel about them, it’s just how I feel most at ease. I’ve always been on my own, its just easier. Its easier to be the person people relied on, instead of the person who had to rely on others. But just for once, I’d like someone to tell me that it will be okay. It will be okay to break down, that it will be okay if I fail. My life has been so barren, that even trying to do anything otherwise is too much. For so long I’ve been someone whose life has been dictated by the wishes of others, that I fear I wont even be able to live well if I decided to live by my own.

What does it mean, to have a dream? I had a letter sent to me, saying that their dream is to find happiness on their own. Well, happiness is something that comes after a long time. I’m searching for it too, but I hope you find it, sincerely. To walk towards happiness isn’t something that’s easy. But I appreciate you for taking that step. To walk towards what you want. What you need.

There’s another letter, that says, ‘I don’t have a dream yet’. Don’t worry, a dream isn’t something that’s complicated. They aren’t supposed to be; you’re supposed to find something that makes you happy, that makes you want to live again. That’s all. that is all there is to a dream. All around us, people are living day to day, they’re living without finding what makes them happy. I hope it finds you soon.

I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to find something that gives me purpose. The way I’m living now, it’s enough for me, to live an average existence, to live in a way that gives me peace, if not happiness.

What happens when that peace is taken away, too?

—

Jeonghan throws good parties. That’s a given. It’s not as though he invites many people, or that his parties are a riot of good fun, but he always makes people feel at ease, if not with his actions, then with his words. Its who he is. A source of constant comfort, that I feel guilty for trying to take advantage of.

I arrive at his house after finishing work with a bottle of wine, hesitating before I press the doorbell. Jeonghan lives in a house in the middle of Seoul that he got for dirt cheap because the people who lived in there were violently murdered in the early ‘00s, a fact that I had asked him about once, and he had simply brushed it of by saying that if there were ghosts, he would befriend them. I’d given up on asking him after that one exchange.

The door opens within ten seconds of me ringing the doorbell, and Jeonghan greets me with a wide smile, “I thought you wouldn’t come! Can I give you a hug?”

I nod, “I told you I would be there,” but the rest of my sentence is drowned out by Jeonghan enveloping me into a large hug. He smells like an expensive perfume, mixed with the familiar smell of chicken and beer. Ah, so its that kind of party.

“Make yourself at home, the rest of them already have.” He says, ushering me into the living room, “the rest of the boys are already here. We were just waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?”

“Because, my dear writer, you’ve always turned down any invites for parties for five years now. Now that you’ve accepted my invite, you’re the star of this gathering.”

I don’t say anything, but my discomfort must have shown on my face, because he suddenly stops me, “hey, just so you know, I meant that as a joke. Seungcheol just got a big promotion at work, so he’s been bragging about that for an hour now. I doubt anyone will pay attention to you.”

“That’s nice.”

All around the low table, there are cans of beer, snacks, and boxes of fried chicken. Jeonghan must have prepared for a lot of people to come. Seungcheol is talking about his job, how he was now the team manager of marketing, and how happy it made him, to have so much responsibility at such a young age. There’s Chan, Vernon, and Seungkwan, gossiping about their respective fields of work, and Mingyu is sleeping on the end of the table, while Minghao and Wonwoo talk about how work has been nowadays. Jun is noticeably missing from the group, but I can see him in the kitchen, making himself another drink, and then, there’s Jihoon. Seated between Joshua and Seokmin, talking about something I can’t hear. I stand still in my tracks, unable to move. What do I say? After rejecting him so painfully, what do I say? I’m sorry, Jihoon? Sorry about what? Sorry about not being able to accept genuine affection in the fears that it might ruin the one good thing I have for myself?

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Jeonghan asks, gesturing to a seat beside Jihoon, “I thought you would be more comfortable if you sat beside Jihoon, since you’ve known him for longer.”

In fact, I’d rather sit anywhere other than beside Jihoon, but I take the seat next to him gingerly, and Seokmin eagerly moves over. Seokmin is like a child, eager, soft around the edges, and someone you want to protect, no matter what. Maybe if I could look into people’s minds, Seokmin’s would be pure, devoid of any harshness of the world; is that why I tried to protect him even when I had no right to?

“Noona,” Seokmin giggles, “have I told you about the play I’m performing in? I’ll give you a ticket, so you have to come, okay?”

His energy is so infectious, I can’t help but smile with him, “of course, I’ll come to see you.”

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks, his voice so quiet I barely miss it, “you don’t really come to occasions like these.”

“Felt like it,” I mutter, “new year, new me, or should I say new apartment, new me?”

Jihoon laughs, “yeah, you seem like you’ve changed. Your hands are shaking.”

I look down at my hands, and true enough, they’re shaking. Whether from nervousness or something else entirely, I don’t know, but they’re shaking. I ball my hands into fists. Whatever happens, don’t let anyone know what you’re going through. “just tired, perhaps.”

“You have been working too much,” Joshua pipes up, “you never reply to any of my texts anymore.”

“That’s because you keep asking me about flower arrangements,” I reply, “why would I look at flowers when I can’t smell them?”

“Sunbae is very busy at the news desk,” Seungkwan pipes up, “did you know, she has a new co—”

“Shut up, Seungkwan,” I  mutter, reaching over to stuff a chicken leg in his mouth, “the work has been just harder these few days.”

Jihoon stares at me; it’s the same look he has in his eyes whenever he’s landed on something to probe, and sure enough, he asks, “why? What’s going on at the office?”

“Nothing!” I say, far too quick for it to even go past Seokmin or Joshua, (whom everyone, not just me, have deemed as the most scammable) “its nothing! Seungkwan just wanted to brag about his workload to everyone else.”

“Why the fuck would he do that?” Vernon asks, but is largely ignored by Jeonghan (my angel prince saviour Jeonghan) who arrives with drinks, a grumpy Jun in tow, announcing, “who wants shots!” and despite pushing thirty, Seungcheol, who had paused bragging about his work promotion, raised his hands, grabbing one of the shot glasses. Even Mingyu wakes up from his nap, raising his hand in the air and grabbing one of the shot glasses. They’re all going to regret it, I think to myself, then, feeling Jihoon’s eyes on me, grab a couple of the shot glasses myself. The drink is sugary, and multicoloured (Jun once wanted to be a bartender in university). It goes down far smoother than expected, since I’ve had Jun’s drinks since university, and they have tasted like battery acid far too many times for me to expect something nice out of his concoctions.

“This is actually nice,” Chan says, “hyung, what did you put in this?”

“Won’t be telling you,” Jun pulls a face, “you’ll just make it for other people and then take credit for it.”

Of course, this ensues in a squabble, with Chan loudly protesting that he would never do that to his beloved Jun-hyung (he would, I know) and Jun proclaiming that Chan is nothing but a dirty jerk who wants to put his grubby little hands, on Jun’s hard work and his creation (most likely, it was from a Reddit forum on bartending). One by one, the rest of them enter the argument, and I lean back into my seat, laughing at their antics. Its always chaos when I meet the boys, but somehow, its also peaceful. They’re loud, boisterous, and from whatever pictures Joshua and Jihoon had shared from their one shared ‘boys’ trip’, dirty as hell (these people laid out a carpet of towels instead of just drying their feet) but they know how to put someone’s mind at ease. Or at least, my mind at ease. I don’t know about others.

Its almost two in the morning when they quiet down. Jeonghan might have bought this house because it was dirt cheap and he wanted to make friends with the ghosts, but this house has one of the most gorgeous verandas I’ve ever seen. It looks out onto a peaceful Seoul street, and in the middle of the night, there’s no one here to complain if I smoke a cigarette.

I light one up, letting out a puff of air as I sit down on the marble flooring. It has been a long time since I smoked a cigarette (three days), and some of the smoke goes into my eyes when I let it out of my lungs. Its not enough to make me cough, but my eyes water nonetheless.

“You can smoke inside, if you want.” Jeonghan appears at the corner of my field of vision, “in fact, I think Minghao is smoking one right now.”

“Just wanted to get away from the noise a little,” I say, shaking the cigarette, “want to sit beside me?”

He shrugs, but crosses his legs and sits beside me on the marble flooring anyway.

After barely a minute, he turns to me, and without any warning, says, “so, has Jihoon told you he’s in love with you?”

I start coughing. Big, hacking coughs, and he just stares at me while I recover. I cannot believe I called him my saviour. “What—what do you mean?”

Jeonghan, the irritating bastard, still has that same, serene smile on his face, “you can’t possibly think that we all spent the last few years with our eyes closed now, have you? We’ve all known about Jihoon’s feelings for you, and now that you’re here, I can see that its reciprocated.”

“Wha-how are you even making these assumptions? I don’t have any feelings for him!” I whisper, “and yes, I know about his feelings. Even if they caught me somewhat by surprise, I’m aware of what kind of feelings he has for me.”

“And?” he leans close, “how does that make you feel?”

“How should it make you feel? I feel worried.”

“Worried?” he pulls a face, “if you wanted to get him off of your back, you’d say something like ‘I feel uncomfortable’, but you aren’t, because you don’t really feel uncomfortable, do you?”

I stare at him, fuck Jeonghan and his perceptive nature. “it’s not that I don’t feel uncomfortable, I just-don’t see the point in his confession.”

“Why? Why would a mere confession have you feeling this way? If you don’t want to accept it, then just say so. No one here,” Jeonghan points to the room, “will fault you for that. In fact, I think they’ll all commend you for it. Jihoon can be a tad bit difficult at times.”

I scoff, “he’s not difficult, he’s just—Jihoon.”

Jeonghan laughs, “see, I knew it. I knew there was something else there that you weren’t letting on. Now, come on, tell me,” and then spreads his arms wide, “tell oppa what’s bothering you.”

“If you refer to yourself as oppa again, I might have to kill you.”

This time, he laughs loud enough for people to hear inside, “fine, fine. I won’t be doing that anymore. But tell me, my dear writer, have you never thought about it? even once?”

I shrug, “of course I have. Everyone has those kinds of thoughts once in a while, I’m no different from the others, of course I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

I shake my head, “nothing good will ever come out of it, because it’s a fifty-fifty chance. We either stick together until the end of time, or we break up and I can’t interact with him ever again.”

“So, you’d prefer to not try at all.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long time, and then finally, shrugs, “it’s your choice. If you don’t want to do something, then you shouldn’t force yourself to. But can I tell you something?”

“Yes?”

“When did he say that he started having feelings for you?”

I think for a moment, “since his military service.”

Jeonghan grins, sly, just the way I know his smile works, “As someone who’s seen Jihoon since his university days, I can tell you something. He’s got it wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yes. He’s liked you since the day you walked into his life. There has been no moment in time when he was not in love with you. He might have realised it late in life, but he’s always been in love with you.”

I stare. Jeonghan isn’t the kind of person who makes random statements, so for him to say this, its strange. Jihoon has been in love with me ever since the first day? but that doesn’t make sense. “You do realise he’s dated other people too, while he was friends with me?”

“Of course, I know that. Both you and him have been running away from your actual feelings, but that doesn’t make it any more apparent that you have both been in love with each other since the day you met. Or at least, it has been that way for Jihoon.”

With that, Jeonghan stands up, dusting off his trousers, “there’s a guest bedroom in there for you. If you’re tired, just go inside and sleep.”

I look inside, where Chan is currently trying to balance a beer can on his forehead, “and the rest of them?”

“The rest of them can sleep on the couch,” he says, “it’s the least they can do after creating such a ruckus in my own home.”

“But you invited them.”

There’s a slightly evil glint in his eyes as he says, “yes, yes I did.”

—

The next morning, I wake up to people talking all over themselves, and the smell of pancakes wafting in the air. That has got to be Joshua. After cleaning up in the attached bathroom, I walk out of the guest bedroom, coming face-to-face with Jun, who’s carrying in his hands a very large tray, heaped with pancakes and a singular glass of milk.

“Is this for me?” I ask, and he nods, gesturing towards the kitchen, where Joshua is busy cooking a meal for thirteen people. Or fourteen, if you count me.

“Sorry, I can’t have breakfast right now,” I sidestep past him, and Jun follows me out into the kitchen, “sorry, but I have to leave right now.”

“Without having breakfast?” Jun asks, setting the tray down, where Chan promptly picks one up and stuffs it into his face, “you should have something at least.”

“Had too much to drink last night,” I offer up as a feeble excuse, avoiding Jihoon’s gaze. It’s strange, piercing in a way that I am not really used to, “I should probably get going. There’s still so much to be done in my apartment.”

“Speaking of apartments,” Wonwoo speaks through a mouthful of pancake, “when are you going to call us all over?”

“As soon as I can,” I reply, “I’ll host a potluck. You all can bring a dish, and it’ll be a party.”

“Instead of that, just make Mingyu cook,” Soonyoung grins, “he’ll be eager to help if it involves you. And cooking. But mostly, you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Jihoon stands up, slipping on his stupid khaki jacket, “here, I’ll give you a ride. Come on, then.”

“Ah but hyung, you still have so much on your plate—” Chan is promptly cut off in the middle of his sentence by a swift elbow to the ribs by Seungkwan, “hyung! Why the hell did you do that?”

Jihoon ignores the squabble currently breaking out at the dining table, and stares at me, his car keys dangling from his left hand, “want to come?”

Before I can say anything to accept the offer of a ride, Soonyoung raises a hand, “Jihoon, weren’t you supposed to meet the other producers and sound engineers today? I’m supposed to be there too, but will you not be attending?”

Even though Jeonghan hisses at Soonyoung to shut up, I can already see the cogs in Jihoon’s mind turning. Clearly, he wanted to talk to me, or at least, he wanted to make an effort to talk to me, “I’ll take a taxi, then.” I say, trying to make an excuse for myself, “don’t worry, Jihoon, you don’t have to drop me home.”

“No, I can drop you off and then go to the office,” he begins, but Joshua cuts him off (while wearing a Rilakkuma apron) saying, “can’t Mingyu take her home? He’s going in the same direction as her, so he can drop her easily. You don’t have to overexert yourself and drop her off at the apartment when you’re going in the opposite direction.”

While not one to turn down a free ride, I raise my hand to complain that I don’t need to take Mingyu’s car to go back home, but Mingyu walks into the room at that moment, and before I can say anything, Joshua turns to him, saying, “are you going back home right now?”

“Yes, hyung, I’m off for the weekend since Minghao is handling the meetings this time around,” he says brightly, “I can drop her off!”

“That’s settled, then,” Chan announces, “Jihoon-hyung can take Soonyoung to the company.”

“You brat,” Soonyoung scowls, “why is Jihoon hyung and I’m just Soonyoung? Do you have no respect for your elders?”

“I once saw you vomit into a flowerpot,” Chan says, “at that moment, you lost all respect in my eyes.”

Before another scuffle can break out over breakfast, Mingyu says loudly, “I’m leaving then!”

—

I’m a big fan of travelling in silence. Even if it is with someone I like, I prefer to sit in silence and contemplate, instead of chattering on about my life. That’s a lie. Mingyu chatters on and on about the new collection and how its selling better than he or Minghao expected, “This is such great news for a fashion brand that was launched less than a decade ago, noona,” he says, while driving his fancy car, and I sit still in my seat and pray that he hasn’t noticed the awkwardness between me and Jihoon. I don’t expect him to notice, either. Mingyu might be nice and well-meaning, but he’s also painfully oblivious.

Which is why it takes me by surprise when he turns to me, while the car is halted at a stop sign, and says, “so, have you figured out what to tell Jihoon-hyung yet?”

I cough, “how-how did you know about that?”

Mingyu laughs, “you think we all were unaware of how he feels towards you? Pfft. Noona, we’ve been observing him since he was in university. He’s always been gone for you.”

I stare resolutely out of the window, “you’re evidently kidding.”

“Noona. He used to stay up with you when you had exams, he used to make sure you weren’t dead when you used to hibernate for long periods of time, he even had a space for you in the stupid apartment studio, are you seriously telling me you had no idea that he was in love with you all this while?”

“Of course, I didn’t!” I want to scream and tear out my hair in frustration, “of course not! I thought he was just looking out for me because I was his only female friend, and after university, I thought to myself, that this is how he usually is! Why would I think that he’s in love with me?”

“Well, he thought that it would be enough to impress you.”

“We were twenty-two! I thought he was an immature weirdo who had no idea how to maintain female friendships!”

“Yes, he’s usually like that,” Mingyu resumes driving, “but he’s got degrees of being familiar.”

“I know. Jihoon’s like a cat. He approaches you at his own pace. Doing anything else will just push him off.”

Mingyu laughs, “you know what, noona, I think you’re a lot like a cat too.”

“Kim Mingyu, watch what you’re saying.”

He grins, “you know I’m correct.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it this way.”

“The way I see it,” he says, slowing down as the car turns into the parking lot of the apartment, “you’ve always approached people at your own pace too. Seokmin and I were overenthusiastic when meeting you for the first time, and you refused to even acknowledge me for the rest of the semester.”

“Sorry about that, really.”

“We didn’t mind then, and we don’t mind now,” he shrugs, “its just who you are. And to accept the kind of person that one is, and then to continue caring for them, yeah, that’s love.”

“Jihoon’s just my friend,” I say, getting out of the car, “he’s just my friend, nothing more.”

“Noona, the fact that you keep repeating this to all of us, makes me wonder who it is that you’re trying to convince. Is it me, the rest of us, Jihoon-hyung, or yourself?”

“Kim Mingyu,” I warn, “you’re overstepping.”

“Sorry, noona, but I have to ask,” he walks into the elevator after me, “have you always seen him as a friend, and nothing more? I saw how you used to, no, how you still treat him differently than the rest of us. You’ve always had a soft spot where he was concerned. In fact, you still do, and you’re hiding it.”

“Drop it, Mingyu. You have no idea what happened the last time I said anything about this.”

The elevator dings, opening onto our floor, and Mingyu steps out right behind me, “Then tell us, noona. We, all of us, Jihoon-hyung, everyone around you—we are stumbling around in the dark because you’ve been so closed off about your past.”

I shake my head, pressing the keys in the keypad lock, “maybe, you shouldn’t be knowing about this one, Mingyu.”

The door closes behind me with an audible click, and even without pressing an eye to the keyhole, I know Mingyu is still standing in front of my door, deliberating over whether or not to knock. In the end, his loyalty wins over his curiosity; he walks away, over to his own apartment.

I sink into a heap at the doorway. What do I do? I know I’ve told Jihoon to ignore the confession and be exactly as we were before, but that is not possible anymore, now that I know how he feels towards me. every interaction I have with him will be grappling with this same truth, and I’ll always be wondering about how he feels towards me.

Out of habit, I pull my phone out of my pocket, swiping through messages and emails, when one of them catches my eye. It’s a simple, single-line message.

Read your column. I know its anonymous, but I know how you write.

—Sungwon

How bad is rock bottom? Is it possible to go below that? I have to remind myself to breathe, as I slowly collect myself from the floor, and go about the rest of my morning. Of course, I shouldn’t think about the people who have left me behind. It’s a disservice to myself. I’ve spent enough time and money in therapy to know that. But what happens when the past refuses to let go of you?

I dial the first number I can get my hands on. After three rings, Jeonghan picks up, his cheerful voice filling the line, “hi! Did you reach home already? Did Mingyu crash the car?”

“Oppa.” I say, “you have to listen to me carefully.”

“Why?” Jeonghan’s voice, so cheerful moments before, has been filled with anxiety, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, even as Jihoon’s voice floats over the line, yelling is she okay? “don’t let Jihoon know anything’s happened, please.”

“Yes, you reached fine?” Jeonghan says, voice nonchalant, “okay, I’m in another room, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Jeonghan-oppa.” It’s taking all  have to not break into sobs, “I once told a friend, that I liked them.”

“Okay, and?” his voice is kind, so kind, that it drowns out the other voices in my mind saying you don’t deserve this, “what happened?”

“He said—he told me that I’d ruined our friendship, and he never talked to me after that.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry to hear that. What else can I say, that will help you feel better?”

“Just—hear me out, for now,” I continue, “and he’s never contacted me, but all of a sudden, he sent me an email last night.”

“What did he say in the email?”

“That he’s been following my writing. I don’t understand, how is it easy for people to be like this when they’ve hurt someone else?”

“Are you afraid Jihoon is going to break off all contact with you, and then email you years later like some kind of pathetic loser?” he scoffs, “if he did that, I would be first in line to break his legs.”

“No, I’m afraid I’m going to be that person to Jihoon,” I sob, “I think I’m going to hurt him and leave him behind, and that I’ll be the person to deal him that cruel hand.”

The line is silent on the other end.

“Jeonghan? Are you there?” I ask.

“It’s me.” Jihoon’s voice sounds rough around the edges, as though he’s been crying, “I heard everything.”

“Jihoon.” I plead, “please don’t do anything that’ll hurt you.”

“I’m coming over in ten minutes,” he mutters, hanging up.

And it’s done. Over. Fuck. I’ve thrown away years of friendship because I didn’t want to accept my own emotions and grow beyond the scared girl I was as a child.

I want to cry, but even that effort is too much for me, sinking down into a heap in the middle of my living room, listening to the sounds of the wall clock ticking down every second.

Even before ten minutes are up, the keypad beeps, before the door opens to reveal a very windswept Jihoon.

“How did you know my password?” is the only thing I can say to him.

He rolls his eyes, “you use the same password as my studio. Of course, I know your password.”

“Fair.”

Jihoon stares at me for a beat, then takes a deep breath, before kneeling down on the floor beside me, “I overheard everything.”

“I’m going to curse Jeonghan and his high-volume phone,” I mutter, “I told him to keep it a secret.”

“To be fair, he was only protecting you.” Jihoon laughs, “he didn’t know I was more persistent than he could ever imagine.”

I shoot him a dirty look. Jihoon sighs, “look, I know, the way I said things to you, wasn’t the most ideal—”

“They were horrible, actually,” I cut in, “you yelled at me that you loved me, and then you left.”

“—man, just let me finish,” Jihoon says, without any real spite, “but I wanted to tell you, that my feelings still haven’t, and will not in the future, affect the way I see you. I’ve always been proud to call you my friend, even if you keep secrets from me.”

“I don’t keep that many secrets.” I mutter.

“Really? Then what about the whole anonymous column thing?”

“You knew about that?”

Jihoon scoffs, “I’ve seen you write since the beginning of university. I know how you write better than anyone else, of course, I knew it was you.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m respectful.”

I scowl, “continue.”

“I just wanted to say that even if you wanted to push me away, you can’t,” Jihoon says, smug smile on his face, “I’m impossible to get rid of.”

“You’re not selling yourself very well.”

“You still haven’t given me an answer to my confession.”

“Look, Jihoon, it would never work,” I say, turning away from him, “we know too much about each other. We’ve seen each other’s worst moments. And what if we break up? Who’s going to tell the rest of the boys that we no longer have the same dynamic that we used to have and that its going to be different around us? They have the tact of a bull; you know how they are going to be.”

“That’s them,” he replies, “I’m asking about you. I want to know what you think.”

I sigh. Jihoon’s face is remarkably close to me; from here I can make out the tiny little freckles he has, and the way his eyes are shining, “I’m scared.”

His skin is so soft under my touch, has he always been this way? Jihoon leans into my touch as if he’s never felt anything like this, “scared of what?”

“That I’ll like you too much. That once I take a step forward, it’ll be too difficult to restrain myself again.”

Jihoon laughs, the tip of his nose touching mine, “one step forward, is okay. It’s allowed.”

“Are you quoting Crash Landing on You?” I laugh, even as his lips touch mine.

Kissing Jihoon is an experience; his skin feels soft under my touch, but his lips are insistent against mine, demanding and reverent alternatively, as though he can’t believe his luck that he’s kissing me, or that this is a dream, and what he needs to do is possess it, and then, this memory of a moment will be forever engraved in his heart. My hands go to the back of his neck, where his hair is softer than usual—has he washed it—but all I can feel, under my fingers, is how his heart beats, quicker than I’ve ever imagined it to be, and how it mirrors my own.

I don’t want this moment to end.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

i saw a fascinating post on xhs the other day where someone asked if dyslexia exists in chinese since it's not a latin based language. my gut instinct was to say of course it does because it's a language based disorder not a latin based disorder but then a lot of people said they've never heard dyslexia being discussed in china so i guess i was wondering if you know anything about it? idk if you're dyslexic but you seem to be fairly in the know about chinese culture so it can't hurt to ask i guess

oooooo boy welcome to whole rabbit hole AKA same rabbit whole am went down earlier january (2nd link heavy tw ableism)

don’t quote me but! from what read is. bc english be letter based latin alphabet language, n chinese be “logographic” (had to look word up but basically like. characters), very different form right? so process these different language different in brain somewhat (apparently?). which mean english dyslexia & chinese dyslexia actually different! like u can be more severe chinese dyslexic but milder english dyslexic, or even only chinese dyslexic but not english dyslexic, or vice versa!

n like even how dyslexia present itself may be different! like for example DSM 5 say “In the English language, the observable hallmark clinical symptom of difficulties learning to read is inaccurate and slow reading of single words; in other alphabetic languages that have more direct mapping between sounds and letters (e.g., Spanish, Ger-man) and in non-alphabetic languages (e.g., Chinese, Japanese), the hallmark feature is slow but accurate reading.”

n we not know much abt dyslexia in chinese n why can be so different across language. very understudied

so all sign n symptom u read abt dyslexia all be study on english (n maybe some other similar letter language) that may.. or may not… still apply or show up same way when talk about language that look n work drastic different

not dyslexia researcher! so these what be told so always double check

& when people say “dyslexia not exist in chinese” (misinformation btw) of course there part of chinese/characters vs english/latin aphabet letters part but beyond that there also element of. similar to how people may say “autism not exist/rarer in china” - it understudied by english-language research people bc sinophobia n western-centric & it ignored by majority chinese people bc ableism (ppl not care), not that it actually not exist

[katsumox]

hihi!! idk if ur reqs are still open but :,) thinking about jason coming back from a really bad patrol, like he's all bloody and bruised and shit. cleaning him up even when he insists he's fine and kissing his bruises, just like a lot of comfort. sorry if this makes no sense LMAOO i've never requested something before!! tysm for reading have a nice day <33

thank u for the request my love !!!!!! reqs for jason r always open<333

this is roommate!verse because hngghhhhhh okay anyways !

“Oh honey, I’m home,” a sarcastic modulated voice rings out from the balcony. You don’t even have to look up from your spot on the couch to know it’s Jason.

“Don’t ask me where the redheads are,”he continues, “Thing one and two are off doing… fuck if I know.”

His voice is tight with irritation and poorly disguised pain as he all but limps into the living room.

Your eyes widen at his state before your mind settles into work mode.

“Shirt. Off now,” you say, jogging to the bathroom for the med kit stashed under the sink.

“No warm welcome, huh,” Jason teases as he tosses his helmet to the ground. He hisses as he tugs off his shirt, exposing the bruise-littered expanse of his musculature.

“I’m fine,” he rumbles, “No life threatening cuts or nothin’. Just…” he trails off with a sigh as you apply the cold antiseptic to his wounds.

He shuts himself up, despite the quiet whines of discomfort clawing at his throat. He watches you work as he fights the urge to snake a hand around your waist and keep you there, pressed snugly into him.

“Just one more,” you mutter, tapping at the gash near his jaw, “Wonder Woman bandaid?” You ask, looking up at him with those big doe eyes.

He grunts in confirmation, eyes flitting from your form to something off in the distance.

“Let me kiss it better,” You coo as you press the bandaid to his jaw.

Jason frowns as he looks around the apartment’s living room. It’s dark and empty, save for the two of you.

“Thought we couldn’t do the whole PDA thing in shared spaces,” he rumbles, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re breaking the rules.”

“Fuck rules,” You hum, “No one gives a shit about rules.”

You press a kiss to Jason’s jaw, right next to the bandaid.

“Fuck rules,” Jason parrots, slinging his strong arms across your hips.

You kiss the J shaped scar on his face before standing on your tip toes to let your lips ghost the yellowing bruise under his eye.

He exhales, watching you intently as you press feathery kisses down his bruised neck and collarbones.

His eyes stay glued to your lips as you kiss the now-scarring wound on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jason airily murmurs to no one in particular, “No one gives a shit about rules.”

[xoluvx]

Giiiiiirl ur work....pffffffff! Love it sm! wonder if you could write a fic where Billie gives a massage to her best friend after a hard day. Nothing "bad" on her mind but suddenly it turns into something else.

Thank u baby! I love this request, enjoy! <33

“Is your neck hurting again?” Billie asked glancing at you as you sat up in bed, tilting your head to the side rubbing your neck.

"Come here, I'll massage it for you," Billie extended her arm and you moved closer to her sitting so your back was facing her. She knelt behind you, the mattress dipping. Her thumbs rubbed the back of your neck as you tilted your head forward instantly feeling relieved.

She wrapped her fingers around your neck moving it side to side very carefully. Then she massaged the area again, this time applying a little more force. She was no masseuse by any means, but she always did give the best massages.

"Does that feel good?" Billie asked moving her thumbs to the base of your neck, her hands now massaging your shoulders.

"Amazing," you replied sighing contently as her fingers worked your shoulders then your neck then her fingertips were on your head and you don't know what came over you, but it felt so fucking good a small whimper escaped your body.

Billie took that as a sign to continue massaging your head. You felt your body slump, it felt so good.

"Lay down," Billie's touch disappeared as she tapped on the mattress. You obliged laying on the soft sheets, your arms at your sides, face turned to the side.

You felt Billie get on top of you, the pressure of her body felt comforting. You hummed when her hands spread over your back, fingers working meticulously. Her fingers wrapped around the sides of your body, thumbs tracing the path of your spine until she was gripping your hips. She rubbed circles over your shirt and there it was again. This time a full on moan.

"You okay down there?" Billie teased placing her hands on your arms gently before smoothing over them, her hands disappearing under the sleeves of your shirt squeezing your shoulders.

You held your breath feeling her hands on your bare skin.

"Is this okay?" she asked, her voice low, fingertips trailing back down your arm before touching your hips again.

"Yeah," you whispered, your cheek pressed to the mattress stifling your voice. This time her fingers toyed with your shirt exposing part of your skin. She looked at it as she rubbed circles with her thumbs. It was teasing her.

The sudden shift in tension was palpable. You brought your arms to the side of your face fisting her sheets as you waited to see what she'd do next. Her thumbs dance along the waistband of your yoga pants.

The was a heat forming between your legs. Your bottoms felt uncomfortable. Your chest felt tight. Your breathing was growing ragged mixing with Billie's own uneven breathing.

"Can I touch you?" Her voice was low and .. scared? Her hands rubbed your lower back waiting for your answer.

"You already are," you teased closing your eyes imagining the goofy smile that was probably spreading on her face when you gave your response. But there was no goofy smile or grin, just a desperate Billie longing to feel your bare skin. She bit her lip asking again and you said yes this time. You wanted her to touch you.

Billie ran a hand under your yoga pants. You skin was cool, she could feel the goosebumps forming upon contact. She rubbed your ass for a moment before removing her hand and hooking her fingers in the elastic of your bottoms. She pulled them down, your ass breaking free only covered by the tiniest seamless thong she'd ever seen.

"Fuck," you heard her mutter to herself. She pulled your yoga pants down to your knees running her hands up your bare thighs, cupping the bottom of your ass. Her thumbs pried them open squeezing your thighs and the softest moan slipped through your lips.

You felt the mattress move. Then you felt her breath on your skin and you crossed your ankles feeling her proximity.

"Mm," you whimpered when you felt her lips on the back of your thigh. They were so soft, pillowy and gentle. She placed opened kisses up to the bottom of your ass before performing the same action on your other thigh.

Your heart was beating rapidly. You could hardly stifle your moans anymore. But this was all so different, you'd lost the ability to speak. Your mind was racing with thoughts.

"Bil-" you managed to speak.

"Yeah?" she asked running her hands under your underwear and around your hips lifting your waist off the bed so you were partly on your knees, face still planted on the mattress.

"I-" you whimpered.

"I can stop," she muttered removing her hands from your body and moving them to your pants to pull them up.

"No. No, please don't stop-" you begged and she groaned listening to the desperation in your voice. She hooked her fingers on the sides of your underwear pulling them down to join your bottoms. She cupped your ass slapping it gently before jiggling it in her palm.

You moaned her name when her thumb brushed between your folds. She could see your eyelids fluttering, your lips hanging open as you fisted the bedsheets struggling to breathe. She pushed her thumb into your pussy and gave the same reaction and opened your legs wider. She could see your glistening pussy ready for more.

She aligned her face with your pussy, tongue peeking out ready to taste you. When she made contact with your pussy, you both groaned. She replaced her thumb with her tongue burying it in your pussy as she held your thighs pulling you closer to her face.

You were a whimpering mess now, not afraid to let her know how much you were enjoying this. How good she was making you feel.

Billie worked your pussy so gloriously. Her tongue running purposeful strokes up and down your pussy. She placed a hand on your back and you arched it so she had better access to your throbbing clit.

Her fingers entered your pussy as her tongue rotated on your sensitive bud. She moved her fingers so slowly still wanting this to be an enjoyable relaxing experience for you, but you were so eager to cum you were chanting her name begging her to go harder.

She did only as she was told pushing her fingers faster and harder in your pussy, her lips slurping on your swollen clit. She could feel you clench around her fingers. A wave of impending relief washed over you as your toes curled.

It wasn't the massage you planned, but it was certainly one you needed.

[munsonsprincess11111]

Chosen friends.

Eddie munson x hopper!reader

Summary: hopper obviously dislikes Eddie especially since he's dating you. But what happens when he agrees with hopper about Mike and el.

"And you Eddie munson have no right and I mean none to be talking right now." Hopper rants at Eddie. Hopper didn't dislike Eddie. He knew he meant well. He disliked him dating you. Eddie was being his usual annoying self and hopper wasn't having it.

"I want you to go home and-" but Eddie cuts him off.

"OK, hop as amusing as this is turn around." Eddie says, pointing at els door, which is shut. Hopper glances back at Eddie and smirks. He nods, and the two boys walk over to the door. Your sat on the couch absolutely confused.

Your dad went from arguing with Eddie to seeming like there best buddies. "Do the honours?" Hopper says to Eddie.

Eddie nods and back kicks the door to which hopper sees Mike and el spring apart from there kissing session. "What are the rules about this door?" Hopper says Eddie turns and stands next to him.

"IT must've blew shut on its own-" Mike turns red trying to explain getting cut off by Eddie.

"Bullshit." Eddie says smirking.

Mike looks between Eddie and hopper.

"Sorry dad I must've accidentally closed it on our way in." El says smiling at hopper.

"One rule. Door. Stays. Open. Three. Inches. And neither of u can remember that rule." Hopper says glaring at them.

"If you ask me Hopper I'd kick Mike right on out make him bike home in the rain." Eddie grins. Hopper nods stood next to Eddie.

"What no. Eddie were friends why are you doing this remember me. Mike. YOUR FRIEND." Mike glares at Eddie. Eddie shrugs.

"Sorry Mike but you broke the rule its only fair." Eddie says as hopper nods.

"Your right Eddie. Mike. Out. I don't wanna see you until lunch time tomorrow." Hopper says. Mike stutters but Eddie raises his eyebrows. Mike let's out an annoyed groan standing up and getting his backpack. Hopper and Eddie step aside as he walks out of els room.

"Bye el see you tomorrow, bye y/n." HE says before exiting.

"Bye?" You say very confused. Eddie comes and sits next to you on the couch putting his arm around your shoulders while hopper scolds el.

"What just happened?" You say looking at Eddie.

"Your dad realised Mike's way worse then me and I agreed with him to kick Mike's ass." HE says kissing you. "Mmm kiss me again." You say before Eddie kisses you again and again and again. You pull apart before you start making out on the couch and your dad walks in.

"Common let's go to my room." You say standing up putting a hand out for Eddie. He grabs it and stands but as you walk past hopper Eddie speaks. "Hey hop does that 3 inch rule apply to us?" Eddie askes.

"What no just no funny business." HE says before turning back to el. You and Eddie enter your room and are on eachother immediately. You lay in your back on your bed and Eddie is on top for you kissing you leaving hickeys in noticeable places.

Does he care? No. Do you? No. And that's all that matters.

-

Your stood at your locker the next day when Eddie comes sprinting towards you wrapping his arms around your waist and making you stand infront of him. "Eddie wha-" but before tou can finish your question its answered by an annoyed looking Mike wheeler.

"I hate you so much Eddie." Mike says going to grab Eddie but he moves you in front of him.

"Can't touch me you hurt y/n me and hopper will beat your ass." Eddie says poking his tongue out at Mike over your shoulder. Mike let's out a noise of annoyance before storming off.

"And as for you my lady." HE says turning you to face him and kiss him. "Hey you." HE says finally.

"Mmm hey." You say kissing him again. He wraps his arms around you and you do that same as he puts his head on your shoulder. Dustin comes wondering over confused. "Hey you guys. Jesus Eddie did you attack the poor girl." Dustin says motioning at your neck.

Eddie laughs a little kissing the side of your neck before standing up straight. Mike then comes storming back over. "Just so you know your way worse then me. We was just kissing you two were clearing doing something else and you have the nerve to-" Mike attempts to shout at Eddie but Eddie's to quick.

He takes the bandana out his back pocket and wedges it in Mike's mouth as he talks. "Thank god that worked." Eddie said wrapping his arm around you earning a laugh from Dustin.

Mike throws the bandana at Eddie before storming off again. Dustin still cackling. "Common." Eddie says taking your hand and walking off.

He wraps his arm over you kissing your head.

"I love you so much Eddie munson." You giggle.

"I love you so much too y/n hop- munson. Y/n munson. That sounds better." Eddie smirks as you step closer to his side.

"Mr munson why is Mr wheeler telling me you shoved a bandana in his mouth." Principal Higgins shouts after Eddie. Eddie turns to see Mike stood next to the principal.

"You snitch!" Eddie shouts.

"My office now both of you." Higgins says stood waiting for Eddie.

Eddie kisses you quickly. "Love you see you after school." HE says walking over to Higgins

"More like after detention." You shout back.

Eddie smirks looking back at you before looking at Mike.

"I'm telling hop all about this." Eddie says in Mike's ear as they enter the office.

Eddie and Mike sit Higgins in front of them. But before they can speak you appear outside the office door which was left open. "Love you too by the way, Ed." You say before running off.

"Miss hopper!" Higgins yells as you run out of the room.

Eddie smirks sitting back in the chair. Yep, that was his girl.

@caffeinatedbtch