#it’s ​like...it was predictable that the ending would go this way

[coqhee]

ROOM FOR YOU

✷ enhypen hyung line being clingy

day 20 of melodies to memories ― p.sh x f!r fluff healing 1OO3

it’d been a whole 3 years since you’d last seen him after you graduated from high school, and only now had you received word from the man himself that he was moving back.

hoon: “i’m coming back to town soon for college, should we meet up?” 

you stared at his text wondering how you should feel. the boy was your first friend, first crush, first everything except for anything relating to ‘boyfriend’. you wondered maybe if you’d said something before he left if he’d had stayed

little did you know, sunghoon harbored the same exact thoughts and feelings. you were his everything except for his girlfriend and how he wished he could call you his after all the time you’d spent together growing up

good thing sunghoon was thinking the same exact thing after he’d sent the text, wondering if it was the right call to text you back all this time.

the east coast just wasn’t made for him and he’d been wanting to go back ever since he got there.

he’d been meeting to call, ask many times ‘how’s it like back at home?’ or even ask about the lake you’d spent many summers in, dunking each other in, then basking in the fleeting daylight as you dried off. 

you’d meant to move on, appear strong and say that you were doing better now, and it was for the best, but seeing that text…you weren’t so sure. 

you knew there’d always be room for park sunghoon inside of your heart whether you liked it or not. 

y/n: would you have time to call sometime as well?

your fingers hovered over your phone as you hit send, heart pounding like you’d just run a marathon. it wasn’t like you to feel so nervous about a simple text, but with sunghoon, nothing was ever simple.

the three dots appeared almost immediately, and you couldn’t decide whether that was a good or bad sign.

as if almost immediately, your message was read and he was calling. it was about time you suppose.

“hey,”

“it’s about time you rang,” you force out a small laugh. at least you wanted to think it was forced, that he didn’t have you waiting endlessly on the call you asked him to give when he had landed at the other end of the country.

“you must’ve gotten up early, here it’s almost 10:30,” he continues on after a moment of silence either of you aren’t sure you’re comfortable with.

“yeah a bit, didn’t mean to wake up, so i’ll probably go back to sleep after this call,” you smile appreciating the concern.

“guess i got lucky then,” you hear him smile on the end. god, how you hated that you could predict his facial features just through his voice.

“so,” you started, breaking the silence that threatened to grow too heavy, “what’s bringing you back? homesick?”

“missed the west coast, missed home too much here,” you hear him laugh on the other end. it’s a laugh of carefulness and uncertainty.

you hum, acknowledging his statement, somewhere deep down hoping he’d say he missed you too.

“missed you,” you blurt out speaking your mind before he could start a new statement.

“i missed you too, not just as a friend, but as an everything,” 

his words hung in the air, thick with meaning. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as you processed what he’d just said.

"an everything?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah,” sunghoon admitted, his tone softer now. “i know it’s probably not fair to say this after all this time, but i couldn’t leave it unsaid anymore. i thought maybe if I told you now, we’d have a chance to… i don’t know, figure things out when i got back?”

“sunghoon…” you started, your voice wavering. “you can’t just say things like that out of nowhere.”

“i know,” he sighed. “i know it’s a lot, but I’ve been holding it in for three years. i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way about you.”

“you’re not special you know that right? you’re not the only one who hasn’t moved on, so fuck you too park sunghoon,” you laughed in a lighter tone. 

if sunghoon could explain that feeling, it’d felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders and he could never explain how the tightness in his chest dissipated by your words and tone alone.

“would it be better to talk about this, like when i come back?” he asked unsure if this was the best resolution to a phonecall where he practically said everything he’d been wanting to say for the longest time ever.

“maybe it would,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside you. “but for the record, hoon, you don’t get to come back into my life and drop a bomb like that without dealing with the fallout.”

hoon. he’d love to live everyday with you calling him that again, bad or good day.

“i deserve that,” he admitted with a soft chuckle. “i just couldn’t wait any longer. i had to tell you.”

“three years, though,” you said, your voice teasing yet soft. “who moves to the other side of the country, never contacts their best friend, then decides to come back and let everything out after 3 years? are you crazy?”

“every single day,” he confessed. “moving away didn’t change how I felt. If anything, it made it worse.”

for the first time in years, you felt the faintest glimmer of hope for what could be. “then i guess i’ll see you soon, park sunghoon.”

“soon,” he echoed, and the word felt like a promise.

as the call ended, you sat there in the quiet of your room, your thoughts racing but your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. three years was a long time to hold onto feelings like these, but maybe—just maybe—it was worth the wait.

─── ♡

a/n: happy day 20 of melodies to memories! guess who forgot i have to MANUALLY upload this cause my blr is broken! day 21 will be out shortly as well so you lucky ducks get a DOUBLE upload, sighhh

melodies to memories tl (open!): @pshwrldd @hhmnya @wonsdoll @lovuegi @letmein2urheart @firstclassjaylee

@ coqhee 2024. all rights reserved

[tkomptgoedluv]

watermelon.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.3

pt1. here | pt.2 here | pt.3

joost klein x f! reader

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader still really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, angst angst and even more angst, did i mention angst?, tooth-rotting fluff, so fluffy it’s honestly a little cringe <3, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 3,494.

warnings: very brief + vague reference to SA, rpf.

notes: hello!! welcome to pt.3 <3 this is probably the part that i’m most proud of, probably because it weirdly hurt the most to write. a couple fun facts about this part: reader’s coat is heavily based on one i have in real life and absolutely adore. also, i genuinely couldn’t bring myself to touch this wip for two whole days because my personal life started to match up with this storyline and i did not like it! became a little too self-indulgent. anyways — enjoy!! lemme know what you think.

love you all lots 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

in a lot of ways, the whole situation was more or less your own idea of hell — ironic, considering it all started with literally the worst night of your life.

not once did you ever think that you’d be here, that this was how things were gonna go. the fun part? you don’t even know how you got here in the first place. for someone so in the middle of it all, you know surprisingly little about what actually happened, or what you must’ve done wrong.

all that you know is that it’s different now. joost is different now.

you still text everyday, a few phone calls here and there, and you’ll see him in person a few times a month or more, but you can still feel it. the subtle lack of emotion in his messages, the only-ever increasing wait times in between responses, the missing details in his stories that you’d still end up hearing from your friends. something, at some point, shifted and joost just didn’t seem to be your joost anymore.

at first, you tried to think nothing of it. you weren’t exactly a stranger to anxiety; it’s always been just a little too easy for you to get lost inside your own head. this also wasn’t the first time that you had fallen down this rabbit hole, suddenly convinced that someone you love doesn’t even like you because they said something in a slightly different tone once.

but then those weird few days where things didn’t feel quite right turned into weeks, and it just didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

you thought it could’ve been the videos because, as predicted, entire montages of the fight found their way onto each and every little corner of the internet. joost could be seen clear as day swinging for him, landing punch after punch until one of his friends would eventually step in. though somehow, the backlash against joost never came. for every clip there was a ‘story-time’ to go right along with it, and every single one explained how joost was just defending ‘this girl that had been attacked by that guy.’

so instead you exhausted yourself asking if everything was alright, just in case there was something else going on that he also hadn’t told you. but there was only so many times that you could ask the same question over and over again, only to get the same answer back.

joost was fine; great even.

so it had to be you. nothing was wrong, nothing bad had happened, it was simply just you that had repelled him all of a sudden. and that was all you could think about whilst you sat in a room surrounded by your closest friends — joost included.

it was someone’s birthday, a friend of a friend who’s name was still unknown to you and yet somehow you still ended up with an invite. aspon was on your left, deep in a conversation with stuntje about some new anime you’d never heard of, and alanis was on your right, asking to see pictures of daan’s latest art piece.

you, of course, were there in between them all, just staring into space. all of the ice in your drink had melted as it sat forgotten about in your hands, and you were fairly confident that you had memorised each and every scratch in the wooden flooring. you were yet to find a better place to look other than the floor, because of course it was joost that had to be sat opposite you.

he had pulled the short straw really, because by the time he came back in from his cigarette outside, the only seat left was one of those awful, plastic fold-up chairs. like the others he too was wrapped up in a conversation of his own, only his included a girl that you’d never seen before, and he was making her laugh a lot.

you didn’t have a single right to absolutely despise what it was that you were seeing, but still your skin felt hot and itchy, and tears burned behind your eyes. despite arriving together in your group and being seated a measly three feet away from each other, joost was yet to even glance in your direction, let alone talk to you. the blatant avoidance was unbearable; the new ‘you’ that he was talking to was even worse.

but with the anger came the shame, because really, you had no excuse to be feeling like this. two strangers with mutual friends, talking with one another at a house party of all places, wasn’t exactly incriminating. they also weren’t touching or even flirting for that matter — from what you could hear, their conversation seemed limited to small anecdotes about the people in common they both knew.

you weren’t being fair, you weren’t being reasonable; there was no excuse for the tightness in your chest.

without a word, you got up and made a dash for the balcony; desperate for a cigarette. so desperate in fact, that you didn’t stop to grab your jacket despite the rain bashing against the windows. you just needed the fresh air, needed space away from whatever the fuck was going on in there.

the small roof that the balcony upstairs provided did little to shield you from the rain. your hair quickly fell damp around the sides of your face as the wind brought goosebumps to your arms. you really should’ve stopped to grab your coat, you were soaking now.

but the pure, unbridled relief that you felt when you breathed in the smoke of your cig made it all worth it, though. it was something else to focus on, something to help soothe all of your aches and pains. best of all, it gave you a reason to be by yourself for a while — a moment alone to think, to breathe, a chance to get a fucking grip.

you took another drag of your cigarette.

“think you forgot this, schatje.”

over the sound of the heavy-falling rain and the music from inside, you hadn’t heard the balcony door slide open and shut again.

from the corner of your eye you saw joost standing there, clad in a black gilet and the same adidas track-jacket that you had bought for him two birthdays ago. your coat was in his outstretched hands; a big, red furry thing that almost swallowed you whole every time you put it on.

“yeah…thanks.”

you wanted to cry.

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward; neither of you could even look at each other as you took your jacket from him and slipped it on. whilst you focused on looking outwards towards the skyline, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill, joost busied himself with lighting up a cigarette of his own. it felt like you were standing next to a stranger, and not someone who quite literally knew every single little thing about you.

someone who always picked up the phone when you called; someone whose bed you’ve woken up naked in just a few too many times to count.

“you, uh, you doing okay?”

you almost choked on your cigarette.

he’d barely even glanced your way all night, too distracted by other female attention to really care that you were there at all, and now he wanted to know how you were doing? oh he had to be joking.

you stubbed out your cig underneath your shoe and went to storm back inside, shoving past him with your shoulder as you did so. you had almost made it too, before he caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back. it really pissed you off how hurt he looked, like this wasn’t all his fault in the first place.

“hey, can we not just talk for a minute? i wanna know what’s been up with you recently. we don’t really talk anymore.”

as hard as you could you pushed him off of you, and then you pushed him once more for good measure. you couldn’t bite it back anymore, couldn’t keep it all from spilling out when your blood was already boiling. if you were to regret it in the morning, you would just blame it on the few drinks you’ve already had.

“and why the fuck do you think that is, joost? tell me.”

a small part of you that you really couldn’t quite understand, genuinely hoped that he would push you back. that he’d get all up in your face, yelling at the top of his lungs, just as angry with you as you were with him. you wanted him to shout, to scream at you about how wrong you were; you wanted to feel crazy for even thinking that something could ever go wrong between the two of you.

you didn’t want him to just…stand there with his tail tucked between his legs, looking like he had already given up on you a long time ago. you found yourself shoving him again, only hard enough to knock him back a step or two this time.

“tell me!”

now more than ever you wished that you could stay angry, that you knew how to hold onto the outrage instead of always just breaking down into pieces. it made you feel so small the way that your voice was cracking; your shouts quickly shrinking into cries. you felt like a child again, begging to understand why everyone always left in the end.

“i just needed to work some stuff out, okay? none of this was meant to happen. i never wanted to make you cry.”

you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, the state of your mascara becoming an afterthought, before raking your fingers through your hair. thin strands stuck to the corners of your face and the back of your neck.

“please, tell me what i can do to make it better.”

joost was panicking now, looking a lot like an old dog that somehow knew it was about to be left behind at the shelter. you could see it in the way his hands were shaking and how he couldn’t quite seem to stand still, shifting from one leg to another.

“you can tell me what happened; what changed or what i did wrong. i don’t care.”

from the look on his face, you never would have guessed that all you’d asked him for was the truth; ‘panicked’ was no longer the right word.

“i can’t. i promise, i’ll tell you later but i can’t tell you here. not like this.”

you laughed — you couldn’t help it. three months ago, when you asked him why he was so insistent on doing anything and everything for you, he gave you the exact same line. either he forgot that he’s already used it once before, or he thought you were stupid enough to fall for it all over again; either way, you knew now that ‘later’ was never coming.

before you really knew what you were doing, you were back inside and weaving your way through the small huddles of your friends. a few stared as you began to tread water through the house, a long line of watery footprints following behind you on your way out. you muttered a quiet ‘i’ll see you guys later’ to whoever was listening and in one smooth motion, grabbed your bag from one of the tables and disappeared through the front door, slamming it behind you.

no one tried to stop you. probably for good reason, too, because you could feel the makeup running down your face.

the only good thing to come from looking so sad and drenched from the rain was that nobody on the street stopped to bother you either. not many people were out in this weather anyway, so at most you felt their eyes on you as they passed, a look of pity on their faces. pity for a girl all dressed up for a nice night out, just to be walking home early in tears.

you didn’t want their pity, you just wanted to go home. you wanted your bed and your pyjamas. you wanted a nice warm shower and to try and forget that today ever fucking happened.

you didn’t want joost to be chasing after you.

you didn’t want to hear your name being yelled from down the street by the one person you didn’t want to see right now.

“cmon you always do this! stop running away from everything.”

that was the thing to get you; the one thing that made you stop and turn on the spot.

“oh i’m the one running away? you’re the one that left!”

you met him halfway with steam coming out of your ears, your hands trembling and nose all scrunched up. you were fuming and it seemed as though he was now, too.

“i never went anywhere! you’re making it sound like i disappeared off the face of the earth or something.”

“well that’s what it felt like! what about that don’t you understand?”

you were each taking turns yelling now, oblivious to how loud you were actually being. people were sticking their heads out of their living room windows, morbidly curious about the scene that was unfolding right outside their homes. those that walked by did double-takes and even contemplated getting their phones out to record.

“but i’m here now! and i was ‘here’ back there and you just ran away like you always do!”

“did you really expect me to just stand there and listen to you lie again? all this ‘oh i’ll tell you later’ crap, it’s just bullshit. ever since that night you’ve been different and if what that guy did to me changed how you see me then maybe you’re right, maybe we should stop being whatever the fuck we are.”

joost physically recoiled at your words, his entire demeanour changing to one of hurt.

“what are you..? schatje no, no, it’s nothing like that. fuck, please tell me you don’t really think that.”

how could you not? it was the only thing left for you to think. it wasn’t like you wanted to come to that conclusion or that it was the first one you jumped to, but joost never gave you any other choice. as much as it hurt, it was better than simply not knowing.

something died in him when you nodded — you saw it in his eyes. tears of his own spilled down his cheeks as he rubbed his hands up and down his face, wiping his nose with the inside of his elbow.

“i…i would never; that guy…that wasn’t your fault.”

“then tell me the truth, joost.”

all that adrenaline, all that energy from before was long gone. you weren’t two people arguing in the rain, full of love and anger like something straight out of a romcom anymore. you were just two people standing out in the cold, soaked to the bone, just trying to hold on for a little while longer.

you were still waiting for joost to say something, trying to prepare yourself for the worst. if he was to say that same shit again, that he couldn’t tell you now but would later on, that would be it for you. you’d walk away and not turn back again, not for anything; just like that it would be game over.

but joost wasn’t saying anything, and you couldn’t decide if that was any better or not. he was silent as he took a couple steps towards you, the palms of his hands suddenly cupping either side of your jaw. the pads of his thumbs wiped away all the tears and rain from your eyes and tucked the odd strands of hair behind your ears. not once did he glance away from your gaze, not once did he say something.

it was driving you crazy.

“joost?” you were pleading with him now, desperate for him to say something — do something. the way he was looking at you, it was like you were the only thing he could see. “say something.”

“i love you.”

you blinked, and all of sudden you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands anymore. it wasn’t the first time joost had said that to you because he says it to everyone, every single one of his friends. but he had never said it to you like that before, with a look in his eyes so heavy you feared that they might fall right out of his head.

“what?” your voice cracked as you spoke. “i don’t understand…what?”

“i love you. that’s what changed.”

a headache was coming, you could feel it. right behind your eyes, you felt a twinge, and then a subtle thumping that made your eyebrows twitch. you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and the more you tried to make sense of it the more your head hurt.

“i swear to god if this is a fucking joke, if you’re just making this up -”

he shut you up with a kiss.

it wasn’t exactly for the first time or even close to being so, but it felt as though it could’ve been; all soft, gentle, careful. the hands that held either side of your face did so as though you could’ve cracked and shattered at any second. he moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until he felt you turn into mush beneath him. only then did he pull away, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips.

but you couldn’t let him have it though, could you? couldn’t just let him have the upper hand, just like that. you had to chase it, had to pull him down to your height by the collar of his jacket until your lips could meet his. by the time you were finished, both shaking and breathless, there were faint smudges of red all across his mouth.

“that was so hot; do it again.”

you laughed at his words for not the first time tonight, but now it was only out of pure joy instead of anything else. you laughed because of how out of it joost looked now, his eyes glossed over and lips parted ever so slightly as he panted. you laughed because of how much you did want to do it again and how you felt giddy knowing that joost wanted you to do it again too.

so you did. only this time joost was ready and pounced on you hard enough to knock you back a couple of steps, almost making you slip on the wet pavement. his fingers lost themselves in your hair, gently tugging at the roots as yours gripped onto the nylon of his jacket for dear life, too afraid to let go and risk letting him slip away.

you would have stayed like that with him all night if it wasn’t for the wolf whistle you heard from one of the windows above, followed by the rumble of thunder. the rain was starting to fall harder now, the storm only growing and you didn’t like knowing that people were watching you now.

“we shouldn’t be doing this here — people are looking.”

with his forehead resting against yours, joost simply groaned as he struggled to catch his breath. his hands still cradled the back of your head and his eyes were still squeezed shut.

“don’t care. need you.”

he may as well have been one of the puddles at your feet, the way he couldn’t even form proper sentences anymore. the things you were doing to him right now were criminal, almost cruel, and you were loving every minute of it. proud of it, actually. you might have been mush in his hands, but he was like putty in yours.

“well…maybe you should take me home then, yeah? then you can need me as much as you like.”

joost groaned again, muttering something about how you were ‘going to be the death of him’, and leaned back in. from your nose to your cheeks, to your chin, every inch was peppered with very sweet, very wet kisses.

“have i told you much i love you yet?”

he had, at least a handful of times by now, but not nearly enough as you would’ve liked. so you shrugged, a shit-eating grin plastered across your face as you did so, and stepped back, lacing your fingers with his.

“it’s okay, you can tell me one more time.”

apparently that was way too far for you to go, because after one singular step you were tugged back again and kissed as though joost’s very life depended on it. ironic, considering you were certain that you were both about to be struck by lightning at any moment.

“i love you.”

you figured if that were to happen by some chance, it’d be worth it if it meant staying here with him for just a little while longer.

“i love you too.”

[666anxiety666]

if you could write anything with lee! curly that would be amazing!! maybe with Anya or Daisuke as a ler? no pressure of course

have a nice day!!

Why not both? 🤔 also thought I'd combine the other ask that's at the bottom 🙏

cheater!

Mouthwashing tickle fic

Lee: Curly Ler: Ayan and Daisuke

so tonight's board game night was going... just great, to say the least. Swansea and Jimmy had already gone to bed. not wanting to put with what they had seemingly predicted what would happen.

"i rolled a two so I moved two spots forward!" Daisuke exclaimed, his eyes locked on an annoyed looking Anya. "no! i saw you move three steps, you cheater!" Anya argued back. between the two was Curly, the poor man being stuck between the twos bickering. "guys, please..." Curly sighed. "Curly! you saw me move two spots, right?" "no! i saw you move three!" it was going to be a long night...

"guys, come on, i didn't see anyone doing anything. can't we just play... peacefully for once...?" curly asked with a nervous smile. he had been watching the two argue like this for the past half an hour since the game started. he knew it would've went like this when he agreed to play with the two...

Anya and Daisuke turned to look at Curly. "Captain! you're not even gonna defend me?" Daisuke exclaimed. "there's nothing to defend, you cheated!" Anya snapped back. Curly sighed. "anyway, its my turn..." Curly picked up the dice and rolled, he got a six, so he moved six spots forward. "oh, i won..." Curly released. a smile spreading onto his face.

"what?! that's not- how??" Daisuke sat up in disbelief. Anya also sat up in disbelief. Curly chuckled a little. "uh, i rolled a six...?" he explained. "you couldn't have! you were more that six stops away from the end!" "yeah! you couldn't have won!" the two younger crewmates argued. Curly chuckled again. "sorry Guys, maybe instead of arguing, maybe focus on getting better at the game." Curly shrugged with a little smugness in his tone.

Anya and Daisuke looked at each other, then back at the man between them. "really?" Curly blinked, thinking he had actually upset them. he opened his mouth to say something, but Anya cut him off. "you wanna know what i think?" Anya asked. "I think you cheated, don't you Daisuke?" "oh, definitely!" Curly could hear the almost playfulness in their tones.

"G-Guys, i didn't cheat!" Curly tried to explain. "you both know I-" Curly was cut off when he felt a poke on his side. the culprit? Daisuke. Curly jumped, turning to Daisuke, who ad the biggest shit eating grin on his face. "Daisuke, what-" but curly was cut off yet again when Anya pounced. instantly attacking his sides. Daisuke joining in almost instantly. Curly yelped. "G-Guhuhuys! wahahit!" Curly couldn't help but giggle.

"why? this is exactly what you deserve, you cheater!" Anya exclaimed, a smug grin on her face as her blunt nails raked up and down Curly's sides. Daisuke was no better, his fingers squeezing just before Curly's hips. "Yeah, sorry cap. but she's right!" Daisuke chuckled. Curly tried to curl up on himself. but with Anya attacking from the front and Daisuke from behind, he couldn't escape.

"hey, Anya! what about here?" Daisuke spoke up. his hands instantly attacking Curly's ribs, wiggling right between them and all. Curly let out a shriek, his body twisting this way and that way to escape Daisuke's tickling fingers. "Dahahahaisuke! plehehease! wahaHAHIT-!" Anya chuckled. "sensitive captain? or should i say... cheater?" she asked with a sub grin. her own fingers now digging in just right into his sides.

Curly had lost it now, a small flush growing on his face. "STOHOHP CALLING MEHEHEHE THAHAT!" "see? he's turning red because he knows he's guilty!" Daisuke exclaimed with a sharp squeeze to Curly's ribs, making curly let out an embarrassingly loud yelp. he slid down, now laying against Daisuke slightly, trapping him. "GUHUYS, COHOHOME OHON! IHIHI DIDN'T CHEHEHEHEAT!" Curly cackled "that's something a cheater would say..." Anya retorted back.

"come on, Captain. just admit it and we'll let you go! simple!" the two stopped, Anya raising an eyebrow. "well, captain? you going to admit defeat?" she teased. Curly panted, trying to regain his Barings even though the two were yet to let him go. "noho! it's not my fault you two are so terrible at the game..!"

Curly knew he was cooked the moment those words left his lips. he watched as Anya's expression darkened, even Daisuke grew nervous. it's a look he knew all too well. without a word, Anya dug right into Curly's tummy, scribbling all over it in a flash with those long nails of hers.

Curly practically screamed. "ANYA! AHAHAHANYA!" "yeah! get him Anya!" Daisuke cheered on from behind Curly. Curly didn't try to hold back his squirming anymore. Daisuke trying to hold him. "what was it you said?" Anya asked, despite the look on her face, there was a playful undertone to her words as she continued her attack.

Curly was rolling. Daisuke wanted in on the action too, adding his own touch of hip squeezes. Curly desperately tried to push the two off him, but in his weak state he couldn't. "GUHUHUYS, PLEHEHEHEASE! IHIHM SOHOHOHORRY!" "oh now you're sorry, huh?" Anya teased. both her and Daisuke wore shit eating grins.

"IHI AHAHAM! IHIHI AHAHAHAHAM!" Curly cackled. his face and ears had turned all red. even tears of laughter started to brim in his eyes. Anya saw this and finally decided to take pity on Curly, Daisuke following right after. "oh fine..." Curly panted heavily, trying to recover from that intense attack.

"you okay, Cap?" Daisuke tilted his head down at Curly. Curly sat up, running his fingers through his blonde locks. "heh... i think so, yeah... that was insane..." he panted. "and for the record, I didn't cheat..." "oh, we know." Anya piped up. Curly looked at her and blinked. "what?" "yeah, we were just messing with ya!" Daisuke chuckled.

Curly went quiet for a moment. Anya and Daisuke looked at each other. "uh, Captain?" "Curly?" Curly glared at the two, but you could see the playfulness behind his eyes. "i hope you two can run fast..." Anya and Daisuke looked at each other once more, their faces paled with realization.

Daisuke was the first to jump up and run. "Anya, run!" he squealed and ran off. Anya looked back at Curly, the blonde man smirked before pouncing. Anya squealed, just missing him. she ran off in the same direction Daisuke went. "Daisuke, wait!" "hey! get back here!" Curly ran after the two. determination in his gaze and a playful smirk on his face.

Yippee! loved writing this one too! Anya and Daisuke as a team are awesome! @estelle-skully

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi! Can I request a load era Kirk x wife!reader when he suggests (as a joke, but he’s playing it very seriously) thathe wants a “hall pass” to hook with a famous model or groupie to “spice up” their marriage cause to him, life has become boring; maybe Lars or James done it and now Kirk wants to try it too. She’s humiliated and threatens to divorce him - but he thinks she’s just joking too. He leaves for studio but then he comes back he finds that she left, but before she filled the divorce papers and called him a hooker for his “hall pass”? And he realizes that she took it seriously and feels stupid?

I hope you like it!❤

A pass too far

I didn’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the way, things started feeling... off. Our routine had become predictable, and I wasn’t blind to the way Kirk had started pulling away. He was restless, like he was missing something. And I tried, I really did, to make things exciting again. But no matter what I did, it felt like he wasn’t really here.

That night, when we sat down for dinner, I thought maybe we could have a conversation about it—maybe he’d finally open up, share what was on his mind. I didn’t expect the bomb he dropped.

“So, babe,” Kirk started, a little too casually, like he was testing the waters, “I’ve been thinking.”

My stomach fluttered a little, expecting him to say something like, "I love you," or maybe "Let’s take a vacation." Instead, what he said next made me freeze.

“I think we should spice things up a little,” he continued, his grin playful, “What if you gave me a hall pass?”

I blinked, sure I hadn’t heard him right. “A what?”

“A hall pass,” he repeated, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He leaned back in his chair, looking almost pleased with himself, “You know, like a free pass to hook up with a model or a groupie. You know, like Lars and James do. They do it, so why not me?”

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. This had to be some kind of joke. But the more I looked at his face, the more I realized he was completely serious. The smirk on his lips told me he wasn’t joking.

My chest tightened. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I tried to process what he was saying. A hall pass? To sleep with someone else? He was seriously asking me for this? Was he out of his mind?

My thoughts were racing, trying to make sense of it, but all I could manage to say was, “Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not,” he said, almost too easily, as if this was just another idea he’d thrown out. “I just think, you know, things have gotten kind of boring. A little spice would be good for both of us, don’t you think? We could try something new.”

My hands were shaking now. I pushed my chair back and stood up, the anger rising in my chest. “So, let me get this straight,” I said, my voice trembling, “You want me to just give you permission to go fuck some random woman, and you think that’ll ‘spice things up’ for us?”

He shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah, why not? It’s not like it means anything. It could be fun.”

Fun? My stomach turned. I had never felt so small in my entire life. “So I’m supposed to just let you do that, right?” I laughed bitterly, the sound of it breaking through my shock. “Like I’m just supposed to sit here while you go out and hook up with someone else because you think our marriage is boring?”

“I’m just saying, it could work,” he added, his voice too casual for the storm raging inside me.

I shook my head, backing away from the table. The words caught in my throat, but the anger in my chest was making it hard to breathe. I had no idea how we’d gotten here, how I’d ended up here, with him suggesting that I just let him have some kind of free pass to do whatever he wanted. It was humiliating, and I felt every bit of that humiliation rising in my throat.

“No,” I said, my voice trembling with fury. “No way, Kirk. If you think I’m going to just sit here and let you do that, you’re out of your mind. That’s not how this works. I’m not your fucking hooker, Kirk. And if this is what you want, then I’m done. I’m done.”

His face shifted slightly, but he didn’t seem to fully grasp how serious I was. “Come on, babe, it’s just a joke. Don’t overreact. You’re being dramatic.”

I felt my heart break. "Dramatic?" I repeated, my voice shaking with disbelief. “You seriously think I’m being dramatic? You want to sleep with someone else, and I’m the one overreacting?”

“You’re not overreacting,” he said, finally standing up. “I’m just saying it could be fun—”

“No,” I cut him off, taking a step back. “You’re serious, and I’m not sticking around for this. If you want that, go ahead. But I’m done. We’re done.”

He didn’t try to stop me. He didn’t reach for me or beg me to stay. Instead, he just looked at me with this confused, almost smug expression, like he thought I was the one being ridiculous.

I grabbed my bag, the tears threatening to spill, but I was too angry to let them fall. I didn’t want him to see me break. Not like this. Not over something so stupid.

“I’m filing the divorce papers,” I said, my voice steady but cold. “And don’t bother trying to talk me out of it. You wanted a hall pass, Kirk. You can have it. But I’m not your second choice. I won’t be your joke.”

I left, slamming the door behind me, not caring about the sound or the chaos it left in my wake.

The next morning, I filed the divorce papers. I couldn’t believe it had come to this, but how could I stay with someone who thought so little of me? The worst part was, I had a feeling he didn’t even understand what he’d just done.

I thought about leaving him a note, but the words just came out so easily, so honestly. “I’m not your hooker, Kirk. Goodbye.”

I didn’t expect it to hit me like that.

I walked into the house after a long day at the studio, the sound of guitars and drums still echoing in my mind. The band's been busy with the new album, and there's always something brewing—something new to get excited about. But today, something felt off, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The house was quieter than usual. Too quiet.

I called out for her, but no response. Maybe she’d stepped out. Maybe she was out running errands. But no, something didn’t sit right. I walked through the house, checking every room, but there was no sign of her. Nothing.

Then I saw it.

The envelope on the kitchen table. My name was scrawled across it in that familiar handwriting. My stomach twisted.

I opened it without thinking, pulling the paper out. But when my eyes scanned the words, I felt a sudden wave of nausea.

“I’m not your hooker, Kirk. Goodbye.”

I read it again, blinking hard, as if doing so would make it all make sense. Goodbye? No, she couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t. My mind raced as I looked down at the divorce papers that fell out alongside the note. The room started to feel smaller, the air thinner.

I stumbled back a step, trying to make sense of what I was holding. My heart pounded in my chest. She’d really left. It was real. She was gone, and it was my fault.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, staring at the papers in my hand, still trying to wrap my head around it. My mind kept circling back to what I’d said earlier—the joke. It was supposed to be a joke. A stupid joke. But I didn’t realize how deeply it had cut her. How it had destroyed something that should’ve been sacred to both of us.

I felt like a damn fool. But I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know if I could.

Without thinking, I grabbed the phone from the wall, dialing the number I knew all too well. My hands shook as I punched in the digits, my mind screaming for her to pick up. She had to. She had to hear me out.

The phone rang, each ring feeling like a punch in my gut. I tried to steady my breath. She’ll answer, she’ll answer, I thought, but the ringing only grew louder in my ear, more deafening.

And then... it stopped. A dial tone.

I hung up, staring at the receiver in my hand. I didn’t even know what I’d say to her. What could I even say? The words felt useless, like a pathetic excuse for what I’d done.

My chest tightened, and for the first time, the gravity of everything hit me.

I didn’t know when I had become so careless. I didn’t know when I started thinking it was okay to make jokes like that. To push her away. But now, standing in this empty house, I understood.

The tears came, unbidden, but I didn’t try to stop them. There was nothing left to say. I had everything I wanted, all the fame, the music, the tours... But I had never understood how much I needed her—how much I loved her—until it was too late.

And now? Now I was alone. A fool, sitting in a house filled with echoes of things I could never get back.

I looked back at the divorce papers, the words dancing in front of me, almost mocking me. How could I have been so stupid?

I picked up the phone again, but I didn’t dial. I couldn’t. She wasn’t going to pick up. She was gone, and I had no idea if she’d ever come back.

[whydotheycallitanoven]

little wip i’ve been working on since gem’s hardcore ep dropped! basically wl angst lol

Gem wasn’t sure why she ended up back on her hardcore world. maybe it was something about the quiet. there was a calming nature to the solitude, no screaming, no need to look out for traps. only the quiet gossip of her villagers as they went about their days. 

she’d missed her villagers, she realized. back on Hermitcraft and other SMPs she’d lived on, the player consensus was that they were too much trouble - their pathing and career choice were too much for all but the most dedicated players to work with. she’d had several conversations with Impulse about his woes whilst working with them over the past two seasons.

she hated to think about what he was doing now.

but if there’s anything Gem had learned from her travels, it was that there was something comforting in predictability. with her villagers, the conversations were easy - “you’d never believe what x said while you were gone” - and their trust was similarly easily won. she would do anything to make sure she kept it.

above all though, she decided, it was the privacy that she valued the most. the villagers didn’t come up to her out of the blue, and when she was in the mines she could pretend there was nothing more important than the deepslate she was collecting.

she tried not to think about what happened after secret life. the way she remembered it all, recurring nightmares of a chase waking her every night. the way she wanted so bad to just move on like everyone else ��� moving to the new season, basing at magic mountain. she couldn’t help the way she tried to distance herself from a certain pair of blue eyes, asking her what was wrong. the way she could see them turn red whenever the light glinted just the right way. the confused glances sent her way whenever she brought up songwriting or the mounders or god forbid the camel. she couldn’t help but confront Scar one night, hoping someone remembered. the tears that formed in her eyes before she could even get the words out. the silence was definitely better.

the wind bit through her clothes as she climbed back up the long staircase. It was the kind of wind that took your breath away, and Gem welcomed the numbing effect. the scars of six deaths had made their home on her body in the past few days, but the cold had helped take the edge off. it dulled the burn of lava, the aching left by explosions. only the wounds left by the vex’s knives continued to bother her — she should’ve expected it, last deaths always stuck around longer — but she suspected it had something to do with how their icy blades were the last to break in her torso. 

“kill the vex or you’ll be down a teammate”. she’d yelled a few moments before the hit that would take her out. she’d forgiven Joel for overlooking the little furies almost instantly - it hadn’t suited her to hold grudges after all. she was almost glad she hadn’t made it to the final moments this time. she heard he’d won a few days after she’d left the arena. she couldn’t bear staying to watch the final battle. she just hoped that Joel’s memories wouldn’t treat him like they had Scar. 

she’d head back eventually. she always did. she’d say her congratulations and go on with collaborations and build her base up once more. eventually. for now though, she’d lose herself in the biggest project of this world yet and listen to her villagers heap praise on her walls and dog for keeping them safe while she was gone.

she wasn’t quite sure why she couldn’t look them in the eyes.

Pearl wasn’t sure why she ended up back on Hermitcraft. maybe it was something to do with the fact she couldn’t stand being left alone.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 37

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

Boogeyman calls you, well he calls Mother Spore, using Grumbot. How exciting, last time he was the one to call you it ended up being so much fun... you haven't done anything as Mother Spore in soooo long.

So you make your way to the lab, do the classic dramatic entrance by appearing behind him... this time around he doesn't look nearly as scared as when you appeared in his lab that first time, just a bit surprised and not even that much.

Oh no, you can't believe this is actually happening...it's too soon! Is he perhaps...getting used to Mother Sore dropping in unannounced? That just won't do, you'll have to change it up a bit- Oh right, he asked for you to come here for some reason so he was probably expecting you to appear like this. . . You are still going to mix things up just to be sure, you are going to be extra unpredictable.

... You should probably ask why he wanted you here.

"You asked for me?"

"Spore. I have need for you."

Ohhh just Spore? Not even the full title? That's new too!

"I see, and what is that you need me for?"

"I have another important meeting I would like you to chaperone."

Oh last time was fun, you could work with that again.

"Where?"

"Out of town. It's in a place called Las Nevadas, have you heard of it?"

...

You haven't actually, is that a new thing? Well, you can't exactly tell him that without losing the whole cool and threatening factor you have as Mother Spore... You'll have to figure it out.

"And when will this ...meeting take place?"

"...Do you have anything else to do in the near future?"

Oh he's paranoid huh? Is he worried you are working with other villains on the side? ... Well, technically you are but that's not the point.

"Depends."

He narrows his eyes, he stops it immediately but you notice, you definitely notice. Aha! Take that Pearl, you aren't blind!

"It's on the evening of the 26th"

"I see"

The 26th? Again? There is a difference between chance and this, some of the other gods are getting involved! That's exciting! ...but also very rude of them, not even saying hi... Well then, if the want to do it like this then you are going to give them quite the show. After all you are here to have fun and everyone loves free entertainment.

"Well?"

Right, Boogeyman, need to answer.

"I'll be there"

"As I thought... yes"

"Now I'll take my leave unless ...you have anything else to ask of me Boogeyman."

"There is something actually"

Wait, really? Why did he wait so long?

"Oh?"

"Why did you send those crooks to Cuteguy's inauguration?"

Ah, so Grumbot must have told him. You guess you should have predicted that since you didn't exactly tell the machine not to. Damn, you were almost getting excited too.

"That my dear Boogeyman is something that does not involve you."

"You used my artificial inteligence, the one I created to plan it, I should at least know the reason"

"Oh you don't understand, that isn't for you to know quite yet"

You caress his cheek, he freezes under your stare.

"If the time comes that it may involve you then I will reveal everything."

". . ."

He doesn't respond, you turn and just like that you are gone... You have a situation to deal with.

*End of Chapter 8*

[tothepointofinsanity]

This may sound like a weird question, but do you know how people interact with their interests? Like people who really like trains for example, do they just study trains? I want to be one of these people but also studying sounds boring lol

Interests are generally diverse. I am really into pathology, specifically zoonoses, and while such an interest is “hard-coded” in textbooks and research papers, it’s more interesting to watch films about disease control and backtrack to research to see how accurate or expansive it holds up in a creative lens. Or when I travel and see signs in other places warning about a certain illness, I am more inclined to look it up and recall my understanding of said illness, why it’s even warned in that area and such.

Outside of school, such knowledge has no real purpose unless I am pursuing a career in pathology, so studying it for the sake of learning more is predictably boring and inefficient. It seems quite arbitrary, but how you interact with it will ultimately depend on how accessible it is, and how intense/important that interest is to you. Most of the time you’ll end up delving into it because you want to, more than you have to [unless you reach a certain point where it becomes your second nature, at least].

Additionally, there are other ways to interact with your interests. Using the example you have provided, I do personally know a public transport enthusiast, and they go around taking public transport as frequently as possible whenever they travel, be it within the city or in a foreign country. Since they’re more or less acquainted with most trains, they just enjoy the opportunity of experiencing the ride all the while recounting what they know about it. They even taught me how to navigate the local buses. So if the interest is physical, in a sense, it would also be more convenient to learn about it in-person.

That’s just my own experience though, and I am unsure how helpful such advice would be. Nevertheless, thank you for your ask ^^

[gjsxj0]

the dragon prince's last season was below mediocre, the finale was terrible and the major reveal was the worst thing i have ever witnessed. this post is long and strongly worded and typed up at midnight.

harrow being in pip was predicted since s1. everyone knew because they laid it out clear as day. it was intentionally set up and like all good bits of writing, the audience sees it and knows what is coming up.

why 6+ years into tdp's lifecycle was it made canon. after years of not answering it or just giving "half truths" (aaravos much?) all to just say "screw the audience" and make it confirmed in a scene that has its own issues and it was AFTER A TWO YEAR TIME SKIP.

not only that, it ruins harrow's and viren's relationship to such a degree i can only assume the creators just hated these two in the end. harrow being in pip implies:

viren intentionally did it without harrow's consent, costing harrow his autonomy whilst also making viren never actually caring about harrow in the end (which the canon does not support, i have eyes and reading comprehension). this begs the question: HOW COULD VIREN NOT HAVE UNFINISHED BUSINESS aka show up in the inbetween? harrow was the one relationship he cherished and then they pull this stunt and said "actually no viren is terrible even tho he DIED saving a kingdom that never deserved him."

viren did it and harrow WANTED it to happen which makes harrow look even WORSE than he was already set up to be. a king who struggles with the responsibilities and weight of his crown and is tired of these issues that he... kind of lets happen. it was interesting to see where it goes but wow this makes harrow an asshole if he just flew out of that window and did NOT come back to katolis for over 2 years.

viren... didn't?? do it??? which doesn't make sense because this show never has a mage unless its callum or its for plot convenience (and they die or are a one off character) and we are just back at square one. if they go this route, i will have to applaud the audacity for them thinking their audience is really that stupid.

not to mention the whole "black person spends a good chunk of time in an animal form" trope, which they should have just dealt with early on.

pip theory being canon in a two year time skip... let's pretend i accept this for a second:

they said arc 3 would be another time skip. 7-12 years possible. what the fuck. so harrow is never coming back (he said fuck katolis or he is DEAD EITHER WAY) or its gonna be relegated to a graphic novel or book (if they even complete the draft in time for publication YEAH WE KNOW WHY BOOK 3 NEVER HAPPENED). and even then. the original 2 year time skip. there is not going to be any actual explanation for it just like there was no good reason for rayla to leave callum bc there will be nothing to show for it.

they really couldn't just let this one theory never get addressed. it could have been a poorly done red herring but no. this is a massive fuck you to everyone that watched the show since day 1.

that interview on cartoon universe's youtube page where they just admitted they were tired of being asked where harrow was for so long they just did it. it was intentional and it was to spit in our faces.

their relationship means barely anything now, its too late in the story for them to fix this NOT LIKE THIS SHOW COMMITS TO ANYTHING ANYWAY and i hope aaron ehasz and justin richmond never write another cartoon again.

[pygmalimoon]

-They say pain fades with time, but not for me.-

I'II see you in there.

We'll find out, won't we?

commission done by @/damaotizi

[chirpsythismorning]

I just remembered they devoted a whole scene to Mike and Will burying a dead body for no reason other than to poke fun at—

[themyscirah]

Heard about TK wanting to write WW for 100 issues and do a Trinity spinoff?

Yeah.... that's the word on the street 😔

To be honest with everybody though, I don't think he's hitting 100 issues. I think Tom King THINKS he will be writing 100 issues of WW comics, but I'm very skeptical. Like it's true he got pretty close to 100 issues when he was writing Batman, but that was during Rebirth, when comics were being published twice a month. At a normal monthly pace, 100 main title issues works out to be a bit over EIGHT YEARS. Even with specials and annuals and possible events (or the Trinity spinoff) compressing that timeline, there's still no way in my mind that Tom hits 100 issues in any less than five years. He spent three on Batman. You know, Batman, his #1, the guy he has to bring up every issue? Do we really think he's going to spend over twice as long on Diana?

Like personally I'm just not convinced that Tom King cares enough about Wonder Woman to write her for that long. Like I think he likes her, and I think he thinks she's cool, but reading his book he seems to love to put the focus anywhere except on Diana. Like all the narration is done by the villain (meaning we don't get Diana's actual thoughts on any of this) and the backup are all TK's audition to write supersons (so we're losing page space that could be utilized to develop the current narrative in favor of possible future stories with no plot relevance)

Like idk. Tom King is talking the talk and I think he has the power at DC currently to walk the walk if he really wants to do it and his hype squad keeps sales high, but he hasn't convinced me so far with his work that he has it in him to see out so many issues of Wonder Woman, especially when Diana finally defeats the Sovereign, and if Trinity gets her own book, like what is he going to do with his remaining 80 issues? Actually telling WW stories?

It seems to me from what I've read of his WW and interviews abt it is that this "100 issues of Wonder Woman" thing is coming from his opinion that Diana deserves a 100-issue run, rather any great, passionate love for Diana that would actually motivate him to write her for that long.

So anyways, my stance is that if he's really putting in a long one (however long it may be) we just hope for the best, (Diana getting her narration boxes back and being central in her own story again, Trinity getting booted back to Themyscira to be forgotten raised offscreen, etc.) and try to make the most & wait it out

[lord-squiggletits]

One TF fandom argument that confuses me is when people put Megatron and Starscream versus each other like, when people say that it's "unfair that Megatron gets redemption but Starscream doesn't" (in regards to IDW1) because like. One, IDW1 in phase 2 was written by like 4 different writers, so you can't try to claim that there was some unified vision where the nonexistent Singular Writer of IDW was like "no Starscream isn't allowed to have nice things."

And second, I don't think the writers would even think of it that way? It's not like the writers were like "okay we have one Get Out Of Jail Free Card and we're going to spend it on Megatron, sorry Starscream maybe in the next reboot you can get it." The divisions fans make between X character likers and Y character likers are completely made up fandom drama and sometimes I feel like people don't understand that the writers aren't privy to fandom infighting/drama and wouldn't write Megatron and Starscream in opposition to each other as if one character's gain must come at the other's expense.

And finally............. IDW1 Starscream literally does get to be portrayed as a more morally gray person, have his feelings shown and treated as human, even make some friends/have people treat him nicely? IDK what fucking comics people are reading where they think that Starscream is treated as an evil villain with no redeeming qualities at all. Maybe it's the same Starscream fans who shit on TAAO/Scott or something, that's the only way I could explain it.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

forty years later: do you think this one musical about a protagonist sorta yeehaw Musician who has to grab his guitar & run a winding path through the silent hill fog going "i'm pure of heart!" to try to save his wife imprisoned by [context: capitalism] wants what the other musical about that has

[twistpixel]

God with timeline squished are people going to be like “Barb wasn’t even disabled for long; Bruce was also a wheelchair user after knightfall, she’s not special” in a dismissive way. This is me making up a guy to get mad at but I’ve seen so many “bad things that were part of a character’s arc are the same as bad things that completely changed a character” posts it makes me siiiiccckkk

[diltonsstrangescience]

I don’t really have anything new to say about this.

I just want to acknowledge that the “use of extremely lifelike duplicates” tally is at four instances now.

[dashiellqvverty]

my opinion on season 11 is that ian and mickey were all over the place from episode to episode and i ultimately wasn’t very happy with where it ended for them