#like there’s something really vulnerable and precious about her writing long live and having that as the closer

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I think my desire to gatekeep Speak Now from the general public stems from how vulnerable of an album it is. It came at a time when there were so many expectations on her after Fearless did so well and the first seeds of doubt about her as an artist and songwriter started to sprout. The decision to write it completely independently and not hold anything back was so gutsy of her and that sentiment is echoed on the album.

[yanderes-galore]

Okay, I've been brainstorming about my pookie Gojo again and was wondering if you could write something with a jujutsu sorceress who's been getting along with romantic! Yandere! Gojo great, even friends! This is the best time he's having since his teen years (which were his best ;.;) but his friend/love interest has the opportunity to step away from the jujutsu society/school and live a normal life away from Gojo. It would keep them the most safe...but Gojo is clingy and selfish and wishes for a normal life WITH her, too.

Could prompt 15, 54, and 38 from your yandere prompt list work? Thank you :)

Sure! You said Sorceress so I assumed female reader? Here you go!

Yandere! Satoru Gojo Prompts 15, 54, 38

"Please smile for me... don't make me force you...."

"Selfish! That's what you are!"

"My life has been so barren without you...."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Trauma, Fear of loss, Guilt-Tripping, Overprotective behavior, Forced relationship.

Satoru can't remember the last time he felt this way.

He hasn't been this happy since his teen years. Now he's much older, a teacher, and the strongest Sorcerer out there. Truthfully, after the death of Suguru, he didn't think he was meant for such happiness... not with his burdens.

Then there was you, a Jujutsu Sorceress who transferred to Jujutsu High to help train and monitor Sukuna's Vessel.

At first, Satoru didn't think he needed the help. He was completely fine looking after Yuji just like he was with Megumi. Yet, he didn't fight the extra help.

More help can be useful for other means.

Satoru was naturally friendly when he first met you. Mostly just to welcome you even if he felt he didn't need your help. He's strong, doesn't need to rely on anyone...

Then you showed him that he isn't strong everywhere... emotion-wise he was vulnerable.

He really does hate how much you remind him of his good years. Those years were long dead now, just like his friend. But despite it all... Satoru found himself attached.

He just couldn't help it. You help take care and guide the students in his care. Plus, even if he's the strongest, you still insist on providing back up.

You two became quite the duo when you join to help teach.

Satoru was never usually one to crush on girls much when he was younger. He was always focused on himself rather than flirting around, even if he is attractive. Now that you're beside him, however...

He can feel himself crushing on you like some young school boy.

It's embarrassing how your presence makes him feel... weak? He always finds himself so nervous yet calm around you. It's just you... always you... now he can't help but feel addicted.

Satoru regrettably let himself get attached to you and be vulnerable with you. He found himself taking you on little 'dates' (They aren't dates to you) and letting himself relax. He knows he shouldn't... but your smile is everything to him.

Satoru couldn't help but fall for you. You're such a pretty and precious woman to him... you make him feel all attentive. Satoru can't help but want to protect you, to be part of your life.

Satoru wants you to need him as much as he needs you. He adores you. He can't help but hope you feel the same so he can hold you... kiss you....

He's fallen into this little obsession of his so much that he gets excited when you invite him to your office. You tell him you have to confess something, to meet you in your office whenever he's free. Satoru has never appeared in a place faster.

Then you say you have to leave.

"They allowed me the opportunity to take a break. I'm just not needed here, now. I just thought it would be the safest option... and I wanted to tell you just so you knew...."

Satoru... can't believe what you said to him. You had called him into your given office to speak to him. This is the important news you had to say...? This was your confession?

You... You want to leave? You want to leave him...? Are... Are you serious...? You didn't love him? You didn't feel the same? Satoru's gaze keeps scanning you, looking for any form of deceit. When he sees none... He can't help but break his calm exterior and snap.

"Selfish! That's what you are!" Satoru snaps, unaware of any projection he may have just flung at you. You stare at him, jumping at his sudden lack of control. It's... so unlike him.

"Satoru, what's—?"

"You're not needed here...? I need you! I NEED you to stay here, with me!" Satoru pleads, stepping closer. He corners you like an animal... yet you stand your ground the best you can.

"My life has been so barren without you...." Satoru continues his sudden rant, his voice almost cracking as he looks at you. His gaze is full of hurt. "Now that I've found you, now that I can taste that happiness again... You want to leave me!?"

"Satoru, It's for the best, I'm not trying to leave you..." You try to explain your actions, only for Satoru to pull you into his chest.

"Don't you know I love you?" Satoru asks quietly, causing your face to flush. His sudden confession does not help either of you... You still feel fearful of his sudden change in behavior.

"Satoru, no...."

"I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I can't let you go, baby...." Satoru whispers, the nickname a smooth as velvet. "Please don't go... I can't protect you if you go...."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be...."

"Why can't you tend to me for once!?" Satoru barks, making you freeze in fear. "Why can't I be happy!? I want a life with you! I want to stay with you... I want..."

Satoru pauses, seeing the fear in your face. His cold gaze softens when he sees you trembling in his hands. He... He shouldn't be taking this out on you...

"... I want you to smile," Satoru murmurs, cupping your face. "I want you to smile because you're my girl, and I'm your man. I want you... I don't want you scared of me, or anything, I just..."

In a moment of vulnerability usually unseen, Satoru pulls you into a tighter hug. You almost can't breathe

"Please smile for me... don't make me force you...." Satoru whispers, his words genuine... yet they come off as threatening. "Please show me you love me too... Please don't leave my side...."

Satoru doesn't look down at you, merely shoving his face into your neck.

He's so stressed and tired all the time... He just wants to be happy, happy with you...

He doesn't care if it means he has to keep you here by force... It's all to protect you... or so he tells himself...

He just can't lose you... He's lost too much.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Saria, Hilda, Mipha, Zelda and Link e. relationship with the reader who possesses the healing power. However, this gift carries collateral damage: whenever the reader performs a cure, he himself ends up getting sick and feeling bad. (Zelda and Link from Breath of the Wild)

S/O's healing power has bad side effects

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Hilda, Mipha, Zelda, Link ]

[ A Link Between Worlds ] [ Breath of the wild ]

Cuteeee I loved writing this a lot!! It gives me some comfort too so thank you A-chan ❤️

I had to left Saria out, so sorry for it but I hope you like the ones i wrote!

Hilda

Lorule is a really hostile land, not only the monsters and world itself but also the people tent to be aggresive, and Hilda is the one on charge of taking care of the kingdom, even if most people don't care about the royal family that doesn't stop her from wanting the best for her people

Having to rule a kingdom infested with dangers and that most of the time doesn't respect her title it isn't easy, the weight she has to carry on her shoulders is inmense that is why she rely on you and Ravio in her more vulnerable moments, only you two are able to see all of her, and that is why she despises your hability

Honestly, having the power to heal all kind of injuries are a really good one, and she wouldn't blame you if you want to use that power to help others, something like that could bring a little bit of light to everyone's life and thats good, the problem is the collateral damage, everytime you use your power you are the one feeling bad, either just feeling bad or really getting sick equivalent to the wound you've healed

Hilda despise the fact that you are the one feeling bad, you become someone so precious for her and she hates seeing you suffer like this, she will totally understand your wish to help, she feels the same but she rather take that pain herself than watching you suffer by trying to help

Lorule is suffering a lot, everyone lives with the fear of being attacked, they are just try surviving before the inminent collapse of the kingdom, destruction is in Lorule fate and Hilda can't help to cling onto the little hope she has, and you are part of that hope, because of that she is terrified by the idea of losing you

Hilda had asked you more than once to don't use your powers, but is probably that she doesn't fully explain her reasoning and just ask it as a favor, but if you insist on using your power to help other she will become more angry and will be more agressive, demanding you to stop, what lead the two of you to argue because she just don't tell you why. Still, at some point she will explain how terrified she is, how much it hurt her seeing you feeling so bad because of your power

Even after, thanks to Zelda and Link, Lorule has it's own triforce again she will still be uncomfortable with you using your power, it would take a long time before she feels more comfortable with it, but will never like it (but at least this time she can take the time to take care of you herself, and won't accept a no as answer)

Mipha

Mipha is a really caring and loving person, she is always looking after the well-being of her kingdom and specially for those who she loves, and that includes you

At first she found quite funny and even a little cute the fact that you have a healing powers just as her, but soon she will undestand the side effects that you have to carry with yours she will grow really worried imediatly. She wants to ask you about it but is nervous, so she'll just end up learning about it by watching you and asking you as much as she can, but will do it gently and assuring you that you don't have to tell her everything if you don't want, in case is something that you don't like talking about

Mipha finds herself worring a lot about you for this side effect but won't really stop you from using your power if that is really what you want, she can understand that feeling of wanting to help since she feels the same, besides she doesn't feel with the right to tell you to don't put yourself at risk with your power since she usually does put herself in danger for being a champion

Despide how worried Mipha is about you, whenever you use your power she can't help but also feel proud of you, wanting to help even if you are the one who end up feeling sick, she can't stop smiling at you whenever she sees you or she gets to heard about you helping others, but always make sure to ask you how do you feel afterwards

Everytime you use your power Mipha always tries to be there for you, asking you how do you feel and if there is anything she can do for you, even if you don't feel too bad she is still worried about you, it would take her a while to get used to the side effects and to learn to identify when it has affected you too much, and when the effects are too bad she offers to heal you herself

As much as worry her she will let you continue using your power if you really want, she will only ask you to please stop when it start to affect you too much, either by you getting seriously sick or hurt by using it or that you been using your hability too much, also if you don't let yourself have a proper rest to recover, even if is just when it causes you small discomforts she will try to be more stern and ask you to please stop, at least for a while to let your body recover, she is just really worried for you, she loves you and hates seeing you in pain

Zelda

Zelda is a really caring person but the idea of failing at her duties as the princess stop her from opening with others, most of the time she shows herself only to the most closest ones and even when she tries to keep her composture with the champions (her friends) and you, you can easily see through her

Thats is why pretty much all of them can see how bothered she is with the side effect of your hability, Zelda does admire your healing power and think is really useful but the fact that you have to suffer from it makes her feel uneasy, she tries to say that its okay, is your hability and you must use it as you please but you can see that she is just lying

For Zelda is difficult to feel comfortable enough to open her heart to someone, even when she isn't the best to keep a facade when she starts to feel more comfortable she doesn't say it directly, but since you two are dating she feels like she can actually show you her true self, and that carries a insecurity, fearing that you either leave her or something happen to you and the side effect of your hability only trigger her insecurities

Honestly, she would be jealous of you if it wasn't because of the side effect, you can use your healing power so naturally that would make her feel even more as a failure if it wasn't because you have to carry a collateral damage everytime you use it, having to suffer instead of the other person, she finds it completely unfair and she would prefer if you don't use your hability anymore because of it, but she won't say it right away

Everytime you use your power on her she feels really guilty, even if she never is the one asking for help and is you who insist on doing it she feels like if, somehow, it were her fault, feeling impotent since now you have to suffer the consecuenses of her inexperience and foolishness, and even when she doesn't say how she feels you can tell from the look on her face

Despide being busy Zelda always tries to make time for you two or keep you close, so everytime she sees you using your power she ask you how do you feel afterwards and always makes sure you take proper care of yourself, and whenever the damage it causes you is worst than the usual pain she will force you to stop and take time to rest, trying to be herself who takes care of you, and you can see how anxious she feels about all of this

Sometimes she thanks you for your hard work, thanking you for being selfless and helping people even if that means you carry with the pain, she just wants you to know that despite how much it bothers her seeing you in pain she does appreciate the sacrifice you are doing

Link

Link express himself better by actions rather than with words, so, despite being busy or in the danger, he tries to keep you close to him, it is kinda comforting for him to have you around and he always tries to let you know how much he loves your presence

Link finds fascinating your healing power, it really can come in handy sometimes, and finds admirable the fact that you decide to just endure the pain it causes you having to use your power, however that doesn't make him less worried

He is in the disjunctive of being worried for you and your own safety (since puts at risk for trying to help others) but also finding admirable that you are willing to endure that to help others, even if you don't use your power frequently still the few times you do it you still have to endure pain

Link hates seeing you in pain but doesn't think that he has the right to ask you to don't use your power, is your hability and you must use it if you want, so he decide to help you in other ways, making sure you are always safe and taking care of yourself, as well as protect you from anything else

Even when he doesn't say anything you can see how much Link actually worries about you for the way he look at you everytime you have to suffer from the side effect of your hability, how he holds you close to him or how all his attention in on you, trying to come with a way to help you out but without wanting to take his eyes out of you

He feels bad everytime you use you power on him, it makes him feel slighly guilty, thinking that maybe if he wasn't so reckless, if he payed more attention or reacted faster, maybe you wouldn't being here healing his wounds, even when it isn't the case he feels like if he was the one inflicting you that pain, even if is just a little bit (he sometimes insist on you not helping him when he has bigger wounds because he doesn't want to inflicting you so much pain, but most of the time just give up when you insist)

However, this whole situation will affect him more if it is after the cataclism, after waking up Link feels like a stranger in the world, he doesn't have anything because all he once knew is far long ago, and worst because he doesn't even remember it, so right now he just cling a little to the comfort your presence brings him, having someone to love and who love him in return despite everything helps him feel less like an stranger, that is why it makes him really anxious everytime he sees you in pain because of your power (or in general)

In that case he would prefer if you don't use your power because it makes him fear that something will happen to you and take you away from him, and at some point he will tell you all his worries, he knows he is stronge but he doesn't has the same confidence on himself as he used to, so he just fears that someday maybe he won't be able to protect you

In this case he feel even more bad about you using your power on him but never fails in thanking you, but grows more clingy afterwards, wanting nothing but hold you close to him to reasure him that nothing bad will happen to you (and he makes sure to take good care of you, sometimes over react a little but he does it with the best intention)

[blooming-dahlia]

hi! I'm not too sure if your ask is open right now and if it's not then I apologize. I found your writing style to be pretty nice si I was wondering if you could do a Lilia x reader. Diasomnia family headcanons. Reader is a fae who worked under Meleanor during the human-fae war. Ended up helping him with Malleus. A headcanon for the family dynamics in the Diasomnia family with reader. If that is not too specific, would you be alright with taking that request? I'd understand if you don't.

The Most Important Moments of Our Lives [Diasomnia, Lilia Vanrouge x Fae!Reader]

╰ Sometimes when you lie in bed, you like to reminisce about the old days. It's crazy how things can change so suddenly. And the biggest change you have noticed so far is your family life.

╰ At first you considered being an NRC student at your age as something odd, but having Lilia by your side definitely helped you gain confidence. To other people at school, you are just another average student because you have never revealed to anyone (except your closest friends) who you really are.

╰ Still, you are grateful to be here, as you can continue to watch over Malleus and Silver. While you don't spend much time with them during the school day, you like to ask them about their classes and if they got good grades when you finally return to the Diasomnia dormitory.

╰ Being Malleus’ babysitter was something you would never expect to happen. One time during the human-fae war you found youself wounded badly to the point where you couldn’t fight anymore for a very long time. You felt completely useless until one day you were given a very important task by Princess Meleanor.

╰ And then you found yourself alone with Lilia Vanrouge and an egg. But not just any egg, it was Meleanor's precious egg with her baby inside.

╰ Lilia used to tease you a lot when you first started helping him with little Malleus once he was finally out of the egg. In fact, you've never taken care of babies before, let alone dragon babies, so it wasn't an easy job for you.

╰ But as the years passed, you grew accustomed to your new life. When Malleus was older, you taught him many things, such as the proper use of magic. Even now, he looks up to you and asks you for advice. Sometimes, when you pass through the halls of NRC, you can hear some students making jokes about you being Malleus' secret lover, based on what they can see. This thought disgusts you, since you literally helped raise him many years ago.

╰ Raising Malleus and later Silver happened to be the thing that brought you and Lilia closer. During the war, the two of you weren't particularly close, but you still had some respect for each other. Until one day you became the 'parents' of a dragon egg. There were times when you considered leaving because of Lilia's teasing, but you knew you couldn't do that to Malleus.

╰ This experience taught you a lot, but you felt what it's like to be a parent for the first time the day Lilia found baby Silver. It was completely different compared to Malleus' situation. At first you were hesitant to take care of a human baby, but seeing it so small and vulnerable changed something in you. Quickly you and Lilia became Silver’s parents.

╰ Your current relationship with Malleus… Well, he refers to you as [Y/N] at your request, and in fact you two have grown to be very good friends. He doesn't spend as much time with you as he does with Lilia, but you're still important to him and he's grateful for everything you've done for him in the past. You also make sure that Malleus gets every invitation to any party he's invited to. You just want this boy to have the best possible time during his NRC years.

╰ Being Silver's adoptive parent has its ups and downs. Sometimes he falls asleep with his head on your lap while you stroke his hair and reminisce about the times when he was a child. After classes, Silver often comes to you for study sessions. You can't believe how attached you are to him, and you don't even want to think about losing him one day. He's still your son, after all, but you know that finding his real parents would be nothing but heartbreaking.

╰ There are days when you can't understand Sebek at all. The two of you aren't particularly close, but you still care for him like you do for the rest of your little Diasomnia family. He seems to be calmer when he's around you, after you got mad at him once when he woke up Silver. Other than that, Sebek is really respectful to you and sometimes even jealous when you're paying more attention to Silver.

╰ Last but not least is Lilia himself. You and he are the parents of the family, and even Malleus said once that the two of you eventually should get married. You don't deny that something happened between you and Lilia while you were raising Silver. But then this something just disappeared, and you can't even figure out why. The more years passed, the more Lilia became interested in trying out newer, more modern technologies and other things, while the rest of the time was spent with Silver.

╰ Until one evening, after a tiring day full of classes, after-school activities, and some Diasomnia business stuff, you finally entered your room and saw Lilia sitting on your windowsill. He was singing something under his breath while his fingers slid along the strings of his guitar. Then it hit you. It was the same old lullaby you used to sing to Silver when he was a baby. Tears immediately welled up in your eyes, while a small smile formed on your lips.

╰ “You remember that song word for word after all these years?” You asked, walking closer to him. Lilia stopped singing and turned to you, a chuckle coming from his mouth.

╰ “My dear, the most important moments of our lives should never be forgotten. And you singing this lullaby to Silver for the first time is certainly one of them.”

╰ There was a hope. A hope that this ‘something’ hasn't died yet. You didn't want to hide it anymore. The feeling of love you held for Lilia was finally ready to be revealed to him.

╰ But before you could say anything, both you and Lilia suddenly got a notification on your phones, which turned out to be a reminder. ‘Kalim’s party at 9 PM’.

╰ You sighed and wiped away your tears with the sleeve of your school uniform jacket. “I should go now and inform Malleus about the party, in case he hasn't recieved an invitation again. You can… continue playing the guitar and singing.”

╰ On your way to Malleus' room, you couldn't stop thinking about what you had just seen and heard. You probably won't forget it during the party either. After all, the most important moments of your life should never be forgotten.

Thank you for requesting!

[swans-chirping-in-the-distance]

YOU have a very interesting take on sokeefe. you don't just love every part of it- please elaborate, your tags on anti sokeefe posts are FASCINATING

THIS TOOK FOREVED IM SORRY ILYSM FOR THIS AHDJDLFKWNKDJF

I think one majorly important thing about sokeefe is that precious bond they have with each other. In fact, that's what makes me love the ship so much. It's truly stunning to see such a natural love built on years of trust and support. They clearly display so many different ways of loving, whether it be emotional, physical, mental, or verbal. The way that Shannon captured them is something I'm not sure I've seen anyone else do the same way.

Sophie ignores her feelings for Keefe for the majority of the series and writes it off due to insecurity. And Keefe knew that. Yet, instead of just telling her how she felt, he decided to let her decide how to act. To not rush her or pressure her. To let her make her own decision. He held himself back and let her be with his best friend without telling her, which many adults couldn't bring themselves to do. But he did it for HER. Because he loved her, whether he said it or not. How terrifying must it have been for Keefe to be so vulnerable as to fall for someone when that had made him hurt so much in the past? How terrifying must it have been for SOPHIE, who'd not let herself realize she fell until she was far too gone to come back from this unscathed?

The two are often very physical with each other, from the constant support of holding one another's hand to the gripping hugs late at night when their sobs are louder than their family's disappointment. Not only do they show how they feel about each other with touch, but also with general body language. The comfort of Keefe turning her head gently to look at him. The way they relax around each other, their facial expressions and their hands involuntarily grabbing the other's without a moment's notice. The display of casualty hidden within the deep depths of their relationship. They even manage to think about each other with the same sort of intensity, the determination to keep the other alive and the sheer desperation not to lose the other. They're reliant on each other's safety, not because their lives would be in danger without them, but because a huge part of their happiness would.

The two often joke around with each other, but they know when to stop. They know when it's time to get serious, to remind the other of how high they think of them and how much they care for them. How they'll always be at each other's side. Their words say "I love you" for them. And while they're in terribly traumatic situations and had such different backgrounds, they're the only ones who understand each other. They're absolute foils who were born to be enemies and fell for each other anyway. Their relationship is a beautiful one, but it's also one that's extremely fragile.

Sokeefe's relationship could go wrong in many ways. There are multiple paths towards a toxic relationship that would be really easy for their canon characters to fall into. For example, while for now they help each other stay brave and empathetic, their vulnerability towards each other makes them more prone to toxicity. They're both known for being reckless. How easy would it be to accidentally get the other to do something terrible? Would killing a random Neverseen member be self-defense? Would that really help anyone in the long run? They're traumatized kids forced to lead, like a malfunctioning toy released before it was fixed. They have no idea what they're doing if you really think about it. Who are they to advise the other?

Another issue I've noticed is one that's super minimal now but could become a huge issue. Sophie, being a relatable teen girl, likes apologies for things that hurt her, even if she knows it's technically not the other person's fault. She's not going around asking for apologies that aren't warranted, but she's accepting them. And that usually doesn't matter much, but it does with someone like KEEFE. Keefe, who blames himself for things that aren't his fault because it's all he knows. He feels so guilty for his and his family's existence that he takes it out on himself. And that could turn into a problem. Because a boy who apologizes for everything he didn't do doesn't fit well with a girl who accepts them. Sophie would never want Keefe to blame himself for things more, but she could inadvertently cause it with ease.

On top of all of that, they often struggle with looking at each other realistically and being truly reliable about the other. Keefe doesn't think Sophie's perfect; don't get me wrong. Part of the appeal of Keefe is that he sees her flaws and still loves her through them. But he also doesn't do much to help her fix said flaws. Perhaps it's out of his own insecurity in thinking he has no place to judge others because he believes he's worse, but my point stands nonetheless. And Sophie often forgives too easily, which lowers her own standards while also making sure Keefe can't grow from his mistakes because no one's acknowledging them. They seem to move too fast at times, and slowing down could really help. Get therapy and learn to bite the bad habits in the ass, in a way.

Another interesting aspect of their relationship are the parallels of their own to others. A loyal girl desperate to believe the man she loves is good, even when he keeps doing wrong? A girl who doesn't realize there's a difference between good and right until it's far too late? I think we all saw the ruedacted/ Lodestar sokeefe parallels. And if you took any koralie interaction and changed the names out? Sokeefe moment. It's just so easy for them to end tragically, but they're so desperate for it to work out. They're walking on the most delicate of ice for a chance that they can meet in the middle. They're running across a tightrope, hoping they don't fall to the ground. They're pulling at the web in hopes that they don't get stuck in its fabric, but they ALWAYS do. Sokeefe is a beautiful relationship built on trust and love, but trust and love don't always mean something is good for you. Their entire existence is truly a bittersweet delicacy only to be enjoyed by the most careful of takers.

[cinnamonest]

holy crap, that tohru fic. Pleaseeeee I MUST know what happens next. Incel misogynist is actually peak content idek anymore what can top that for me. And your writing is so great. When Tohru warned reader he was about to ask a question she could get the wrong idea about, I was like "yeah, it can't be that bad, since he's being apologetic and all," and then he hit her with it 😭 i was like help 💀. I'm also very curious to know how he got fixated on her. Like he was so quick to go, "im gonna kill u because ur not nice enough," but we all know what those small greetings and smiles from darling did for him

To be fair, the more attached guys get, the more volatile they are towards rejection — it's that if I can't have you, no one can type of mentality, and he has it to a very intense degree.

One of the most interesting and captivating parts of Adachi’s character imo is how in the official P4 anthology manga it shows how he's just so bitter and mad that even when he spends a day with the Dojimas and they're actually so nice to him and appreciate him, he goes home and reflects on the day, and ends up getting mad and throwing things and tearing his apartment up — he's one of those people who just can't be happy, can't accept kindness because he's just that bitter.

There's no winning. He'd get angry if he's rejected or reprimanded, but he also can't emotionally handle kindness and love and will push back against it as a defensive measure.

That's why living with him is such a nightmare — you can't appease or placate him. Once he's “mask-off” towards you, you learn he's incredibly pessimistic and interprets everything with bitterness and paranoia. So even if you go out of your way to try to make him happy, his eyes just narrow, he tilts his head and draws the most negative conclusions—

Oh, you're trying to get me to let my guard down, huh?

—or—

You're being awfully nice today. What did you do that you don't want me finding out about…?

—or—

You think I'll just forget about earlier if you're all sweet now, is that it?

Everything, everything you do is automatically viewed through such lenses of negativity. And when he suspects that you're doing something with deceitful intent, he gets mad, and when he gets mad, he gets violent. Holding you by your throat or hair and manhandling you around like a ragdoll.

So you're punished if you're bad, but you're also punished if you're good. But don't think you can escape by trying to stay quiet and neutral — then he gets pissed off because you're being boring and that's annoying, or he interprets it as you avoiding him, giving him a cold shoulder and silent treatment on purpose. And that is probably the worst thing you could do — as always, he's so incredibly sensitive to any form of perceived rejection.

So there really is no winning. You have to give him attention, but if you do, you're trying to deceive him somehow, and if you say you're not then you're lying and that's especially bad. To say it wears on your psyche is an understatement.

Not that he doesn't have his vulnerable moments, in particular when he has bad days at work — he comes home and takes all the frustration out on you, either making you listen to his whining and complaining the whole night, reaming your holes raw and sore, or, usually, both. And in those moments, you sometimes do get a feeling of tenderness, where you physically feel him lose that near-constant feeling of tension in his body as he melts into your touch, lets you rub your hands through his hair and down his back for a few precious, soft moments… but after a bit too long, of course, he snaps back to self-awareness and embarrassment over the momentary vulnerability, and now you have to pay for making him like that.

[gottiewrites]

Amazon MGM Studios is developing the YA novel “The Loneliest Girl in the Universe” as a feature film.

Variety released the news today:

Amazon MGM Studios is developing the YA novel “The Loneliest Girl in the Universe” as a feature film.

Joe Roth and Jeffrey Kirschenbaum (“Anyone but You,” “Fast X,” the upcoming “Jackpot”) will produce the film alongside Katherine Langford, best known for starring in Netflix’s hit YA series “13 Reasons Why”; Seldy Gray will oversee development for Roth Kirschenbaum Films.

The project is in early development at the studio with Sarah Conradt-Kroehler writing the script, from a treatment by Gary Dauberman.

The Loneliest Girl in the Universe was first published in 2017. It was nominated for the 2019 Carnegie medal, named one of Barnes & Noble’s Top 15 YA Books of 2018, and shortlisted for the STEAM Children’s Book Prize 2019.

Romy Silvers is the only surviving crew-member of a spaceship travelling to a new planet, on a mission to establish a second home for humanity. Alone in space, she is the loneliest girl in the universe until she hears about a new ship which has launched from Earth with a single passenger on board. A boy called J.

Their only communication is via email and due to the distance between them, their messages take months to transmit. And yet Romy finds herself falling in love.

But what does Romy really know about J? And what do the mysterious messages which have started arriving from Earth really mean?

Sometimes, there’s something worse than being alone…

I’ve been holding onto this secret for four long years, so I’m beyond thrilled to finally be able to share it.

The production company, Roth/Kirschenbaum, made Damsel (Milly Bobby Brown/Netflix), Anyone but You (Sydney Sweeney/Glen Powell), The School for Good and Evil (Paul Feig/Netflix), Fast X (Vin Diesel) and The Gray Man (Ryan Gosling), so Romy is in very, very good hands indeed.

A movie deal is, obviously, a dream come true. It’s not something I ever thought would happen to me. I feel lucky enough to get to keep writing new books, let alone for someone to make an adaptation of something that came out of my brain.

The Loneliest Girl in the Universe is a very special story to me. I wrote it when I was 22, fresh out of a physics degree. On the surface, it was inspired by some of the physics I’d learnt about deep space travel at university, but mainly it was propelled by the complicated feelings I had about technically being an ‘adult’ while really just feeling like a naiive kid. It was about internet dating, and fandom as a form of self expression, and my complicated relationship with girlhood (as someone who no longer really identifies as a ‘girl’).

Romy is one of the most precious character I’ve ever created. I poured so much of myself into her personality; her insecurities; her flaws and strengths. So many readers respond to her vulnerability (and mine) with deep love. People have told me that they would die for Romy. That she’s their favourite fictional character of all time. That she’s helped them process so much of their own anxiety, trauma and imposter syndrome. That she’s a role model for girls who are deciding to study science at university. As a writer, it’s the biggest honour to have created someone who feels so real and important to so many people.

I can’t wait for Romy to reach a whole new audience on screen through Amazon MGM Studios. The team at R/K have a very clear vision for Romy’s story, and so much respect for her journey as a character. I’m very excited to see what they create.

I have some experience of the TV industry in UK through my work in the Heartstopper writer’s room as story consultant, but movies and Hollywood are obviously a whole new ballgame. I’m excited and nervous to learn more!

For everyone who’s been with me and Romy since 2017, I hope the The Loneliest Girl in the Universe movie lives up to all your expectations, when it launches (which might be a while off!). Thank you for sticking with me.

And for new readers, you can read the book now. It’s published in the UK, Australia, USA, and in translation in Indonesia, Brazil, Poland and Turkey.

Goodreads

Amazon UK

Waterstones

Foyles

Audible

Amazon US

“A strange, witty, compulsively unpredictable read which blows most of its new YA-suspense brethren out of the water.” – Entertainment Weekly

“Black Mirror-esque. A fantastic slow-build drama. Lauren James is a genius.” – SFX

“Gripping romantic sci-fi thriller.” – Wall Street Journal

“This slow-burning psychological thriller has a killer twist that will make you gasp.” – Bustle

And while you’re all here, a reminder that my next novel Last Seen Online is being published on August 1st. A scandal occurs within the cast of the TV show that Romy writes fanfiction about in The Loneliest Girl in the Universe.

Goodreads

Amazon UK

Waterstones

Audible

Foyles

Fill out this form to receive a signed postcard of character art for Last Seen Online - open to anyone in the UK who preorders the book before 1st August 2024.

A contemporary YA murder mystery set in sun-drenched LA, for fans of Malibu Rising, We Were Liars and A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder. When Delilah meets Sawyer Saffitz (son of Anya Saffitz, aka Hollywood royalty), she becomes hooked on a decade-old scandal. In her quest for the truth, Delilah uncovers blogposts written by the mysterious “gottiewrites” and is soon caught up in a world of greed, fandom conspiracy theories … and murder. And the deeper Delilah digs, the more dangerous it becomes – because someone is willing to kill to hide the truth.

- Wren x

[veliara]

hihi! i'll ask a few <:

12. How much does your OC's background and origin affect their approach to relationships? Are there specific insecurities or preferences that lead on from their past?

29. What makes a scene or situation "romantic" in your opinion? Is this something you find easy to portray?

38. What is your favourite depiction of romance (or sex if you prefer) that you have produced? Or if you haven't produced one yet, then what is your favourite example from another creator?

Well, hi ^^) thanks for the ask! (I'm going to speak from Ciel's example, since she's my main original character) 12.How much does your OC's background and origin affect their approach to relationships? Are there specific insecurities or preferences that lead on from their past? Ciel's background, her family's influence had a lot of effect on her preferences. She is naive at times, a bit too trusting with those who have treated her with kindness. Growing up in a loving and affectionate family, she misses the feeling of serenity she had at home. Until one day she discovers that same serenity in the oddest company in whole Ishgard. She didn't plan on seeking a relationship at the beginning of her adventures, let's just say they sort of fell on her. She wanted to see the world, to taste freedom. The result of her upbringing has caused her to have a strange flaw. She doesn't know how to live for herself. She doesn't want anything for herself. That's the way she was raised. To live for others. Only to give. It's normal for her. So finding herself in Ishgard, in a world where she, “half-breed boy” is despised at best, in a company that almost the entire city tries to stay away from, she learns to live for herself, to want something/someone and learns to protect it. (Even if that “someone” is a 7ft tall guy in plate armor who clearly doesn't need this protection.)

29.What makes a scene or situation "romantic" in your opinion? Is this something you find easy to portray? For me, it's the details that make a scene romantic: the glances, the soft and gentle touches. Silence or quiet, relaxed conversations, when my characters are at ease, “without the armor and masks” they wear in front of outsiders. The intertwining of fingers. A kiss on the temple, when lips linger a little longer than necessary. Intimacy of being themself in the company of their partner. Allowing themself to be vulnerable and knowing they won't be harmed (in any sense of the word). That's what romance to me in a scene. I'm completely incapable of writing spicy scenes, too afraid to vulgarize the precious things I've been trying to create for so long. But I absolutely love writing soft romance.

38.What is your favourite depiction of romance (or sex if you prefer) that you have produced? Or if you haven't produced one yet, then what is your favourite example from another creator? There are a few scenes, in part 2 that make me smile stupidly. My favorite is when Ciel, at Paul's request( Oh, you one-eyed devil!! >.<), comes to keep an eye on Grinnaux, who is asleep after being wounded by a poisoned blade. He missed the blow because of her, so she blamed herself. In the end, the stroking of his hair, which to her surprise he loves, turned into a gentle cuddling. She doesn't understand what's going on, he's not really conscious and acting on some inner instinct. And then he wakes up… I'm not gonna write this scene here. Maybe one day I'll translate it and make some screens if I feel like it. Who knows?

P.S. I apologize for the long answer. I would like to say a lot more things, but I`ll keep myself in bay. I'm the kind of person who can talk for hours about my character and her adventures.

[thedragonagelesbian]

I’m gonna ask the inverse of the Tav question: What are your LIs favorite physical attribute(s) of Cyrus (all iterations) and Yiseeril?

omgomgomg okay!!!!!!!!!!

Karlach: (pallybarb!Cyrus) freckles for sure, she thinks they're so CUTE and after she gets her engine fixed, she spends a lot of time tracing them & kissing them & making patterns with them, and she is SO delighted to discover just how far down they spread. she esp loves his hand freckles because, well, she's also quite fond of his hands, cradled in her own or caressing her skin or playing with her hair or holding her at night, so strong she knows she never has to worry about Zariel hurting her again

Halsin: (pallybarb!Cyrus) I had to sit and think about this one for a while because Halsin strikes me as a very. Holistic appreciator of the humanoid body. But I think it's Cyrus' stomach as the most vulnerable part of his body, always concealed underneath the metal of his armor and the bulwark of his shield but also always sacrificed to take hits intended for others, as a site of both how he's had to train and harden his body and how readily he softens again under the right ministrations. Thinking especially about Halsin treating the wounds from the Ketheric fight, and it's. Gay. It's gay to have any wound but ESPECIALLY a stomach wound.

Wyll: (ranger!Cyrus) Wrinkles & grey hairs!!! Wyll loves how distinguished Cyrus looks, the evidence of a life long-lived written into his skin, especially given Wyll's own preoccupation with the passage of time. That life may not have been the happiest and its marks may not have come naturally, but Wyll delights in knowing he's the reason why Cyrus' laugh lines are crinkling and deepening with real laughter.

(durge!Cyrus) Mr Fairy Tales and Bard's Songs really does like the things that mark Cyrus as an aasimar: the cracks (how far down do they go?), the red glow of his fingers (what would they look like entwined with mine?), the void of his eyes (grey like the dawn about to burst), even those grotesque fleshy wings and the bloody celestial inscriptions of Mark of the Harbinger are awe-inspiring.

They'd be even more beautiful if they weren't tearing Cyrus apart.

Astarion: (durge!Cyrus) I mean... it feels like an unimaginative answer, but I built this version of Cyrus to be bleeding literally all the fucking time. Astarion has a particular fondness for the not-quite-but-almost-always wounds on Cyrus' back where his wings sprout from, and sometimes feeds from there instead of Cyrus' neck... though seeing all the scars running along his spine from his pre-tadpole blood hunting, Astarion sometimes can't help but think of his own scarred back. Of whether Cyrus came to self-sacrifice willingly, despite his foolish eagerness to throw himself into it now.

Shadowheart: her smile. I think the first time Shadowheart sees it, she is seeing the way Mother Viconia tried to teach her to control her countenance with such effortless disarming charm... but on someone with 17 charisma instead of Shadowheart's 8. There's an instant admiration for Yiseeril's skills as not merely a liar but an expert manipulator, the kind of person Shadowheart was molded to be.

And the more time they spend traveling together, and the more Shadowheart gets to know her, the better she becomes at distinguishing between Yiseeril's fake smile and her genuine one, subtle though the distinctions may be, and it's all the more precious to Shadowheart to be one of the only people who can claim to know something about Yiseeril's true self.

Minthara: the physical manifestations of Yiseeril's fall from grace & partial illithid transformation; the further Yiseeril is from divinity, the more divine Minthara thinks she is. I still really want to write the scene where she pushes up Yiseeril's halo to see the rot in her eyes & loves her all the more dearly for it.

[cuteniarose]

can you plz infodump about your ocs?? so new people to your blog can understand them

Hey, anon? I hope you know that this ask is the best one I’ve gotten in all my 3 1/2 years on this hellsite, so thank you!! You really don’t need to know about my OCs to follow this blog cause a) I post once in a blue moon nowadays, and b) it’s rarely about my OCs, BUT SINCE YOU ASKED-

K, so, my main OCs are Suiren and Midori, sisters who just so happen to be Ghazan and Ming-Hua’s daughters. They were 7 and 4 respectively when their parents were imprisoned for trying to kidnap Korra, which led to them being placed in the ‘care’ of Ghazan’s older sister, Haya. What happens to them after that? Well, you’d have to be more specific, since I have about a trillion different AUs featuring them. The two most important ones (aka the ones written down) are:

1. Seeds of the Red Lotus. The very first fic I wrote about them, which I... haven’t updated in two years. It currently stands at 5 chapters BUT I am in the process of rewriting and continuing it. The basic concept is that the girls grow up in utter misery under Haya’s iron fist, and in a desperate attempt to get enough money to leave and live a happy, comfortable life somewhere else, Suiren becomes an assassin at the bright old age of 17. Fast forward 6 years, and Team Avatar, unable to take down the Earth Empire on their own, hire her to kill Kuvira

2. Under the Oak’s Shade. A rather self indulgent AU written as a form of catharsis and spiritual healing. Six months into living with Haya, the girls are taken in by Zhi, a cranky lesbian with a bad sense of direction/P’Li’s firebending teacher from the Red Lotus/my friend @katkastrofa‘s OC from her fic Lost and Found (which, unlike the multichaps I write, is complete and you should go read it immediately). Once I pull myself together to actually figure out how the next instalment in the series should go, this will, most likely, eventually become a Red Lotus Korra AU, which I’m definitely looking forward to writing.

Now that the basics are out of the way, let’s get to actual infodumping about my two precious cinnamon rolls. Most of this info is from SotRL-verse, as that is the main story I’ve got about them, so keep that in mind

-

Suiren:

23 years old as of 174 AG. Master waterbender and deadly assassin. Cold, calculating and precise in everything she does, leaving no room for error. Takes no shit from anyone, is fiercely defensive and independent, and is the last person to ever accept any help or charity. Confident in her abilities and borderline cocky at times, a lot of which is a front. Extremely short tempered, nihilistic, cynical and high strung, not willing to let anyone get close enough to her to see her hidden vulnerabilities

She wasn’t always like this. A long time ago, back before she lost her parents, she was much, much softer, kinder and more gentle. Her parents called her their little water lily, and the nickname suited her well. However, P’Li’s nickname for her was ‘my little firecracker’, so she very much still had quite a temper even back then. Overall, she was a happy little girl with bright eyes and a mischievous smile who was determined to excel in her waterbending lessons. She was Ming-Hua’s pride and joy. 16 years of taking the brunt of Haya’s anger to shield her sister, as well as destroying the part of herself that wouldn’t let her mindlessly do the bidding of whoever paid her, changed her, perhaps irreversibly.

Her old life still haunts her, though. Genetics played a cruel joke on her – the silky black hair reaching below her waist, the angular features, the prominent cheekbones, the (relatively) short height – it all serves to make her see her mother every single time she glances in the mirror. Being just like her mother was something she once aspired to, but now follows her like a curse. Even the things she got from her dad, dark skin and golden brown eyes, don’t help, and just make her look like Haya, especially when she’s angry

There is another side to her that no one but Midori gets to see. She may not be as soft as sixteen years ago, but she is still capable of love and gentleness. She loves her sister more than anything else in life, has already killed and would die for her. She is very protective of Midori (though often to a fault). She hugs her tight and kisses her forehead and cheeks, quietly sings her (their mother’s) lullabies as she calms her down from a nightmare, heals any and all her wounds, tells her stories of their parents, always puts her first no matter how pained and exhausted she herself is... In short, Suiren took on the role of a self sacrificing parent a long time ago and has played it well

Suiren is a distinguished lesbian but can’t keep a partner longer than a few weeks. Girls fawn all over her, but once they see past the pretty face and confident demeanour and notice everything wrong with her, they run (which only serves to make Suiren’s abandonment issues worse). She has taken to sticking to one night stands when she needs an outlet for her frustrations, convinced she will never have, and isn’t deserving of, a long lasting, loving relationship

She struggles severely with her mental health, constantly plagued by what she has done. She tries to limit her sleep to avoid nightmares that she knows will come and represses all emotions except for anger as that is the safest to latch onto and channel into killing. She is almost always on edge and feels pressure mounting with every single day. Very prone to overstimulation when it comes to noise, light and people. The only times she ever relaxes (or, at least, pretends to) is when she’s alone with Midori or with Lotus, her pet sabertooth moose lion.

To sum up: the poor girl is a vessel for my trauma and deserves a 30 hour nap, a hug, a warm blanket, the whole world and her parents back

-

Midori:

20 years old as of 174 AG. Earthbender, though not very good at it. She discovered her earthbending only a few months before losing her parents, and had no one to teach her since then. She is naturally kindhearted and hardworking, always trying to help out where she can and seem useful. Quiet and anxious, she prefers to stick to the background and draw as little attention to herself as possible (which is in fact a defence mechanism against Haya’s treatment of her but, y’know, let’s not get into that rn)

Sixteen years ago, Midori was a bright and happy little girl, wanting nothing more than for everyone around her to be happy as well. Always full of energy, she could talk and ramble for hours about anything that crossed her mind. Just as mischievous as her sister, she knew she was the baby of the family and could get away with anything, though to her credit, she didn’t abuse that much. Her parents called her their little Seedling, the youngest of them all so full of potential and eager to grow and make her parents proud. P’Li often called her a cuddlebug for her affectionate nature (am I stealing that from Kat’s fic bc it made me scream into my pillow for five minutes straight? Maybe. You can’t prove anything).

In present age, she’s a lot more similar to her childhood self than Suiren is. She doesn’t talk that much anymore, if at all, and her happiness is often clouded by the harsh world around her, but some of that cheerfulness still shines through, especially when she’s alone with Suiren or with Tenzin’s kids. The energy once used for rambling and chasing butterflies and racing with her sister is now almost always redirected into chores and housework, though if Suiren offered, she’d gladly race her again (and probably win tbh, her legs are longer and Renny prefers faster methods than running)

She doesn’t remember her parents well, and their faces have blurred beyond recognition in her mind. It’s why her appearance doesn’t affect her as much as Renny’s own does her. She’s not a carbon copy of either of her parents like Suiren is, she’s more of an even mix. She knows what Suiren had told her, that she has their mother’s eyes and their father’s nose, but can’t piece anything together in her head. She keeps her hair, as dark and silky as Suiren’s, though thicker, at shoulder length, a bit uneven in places as she cuts it herself. As a child, Ghazan would tie her hair into twin pigtails every morning and she never let anyone else do it. She hasn’t styled her hair in any way since she took those pigtails out before going to bed the night their parents left

A disaster bisexual, proven by the fact that out of all people in the world, she falls for Opal Beifong. You know, the step sister of the woman Midori’s sister has to kill (or die trying), and the daughter of the woman who killed Midori’s beloved auntie P’Li. Yeah, tough case. Anyway, turns out, there is a limited supply of Ghazan’s charm in his genetic code and it all got passed down to Renny, because ‘Dori herself turns into an awkward mess whenever the opportunity to flirt arises. It’s fine though, Opal still finds her adorable. Also she probably had a small crush on Bolin when they first met, but that was because he was one of the only people her age to be nice to her and she got over it quickly

Remember how I said she was quiet and anxious? Yeah, understatement of the century. Her anxiety follows her around throughout her day and is the driving force behind all of her decisions. Many things, from raised voices to passive aggressiveness to bad moods to unfinished housework, can trigger it. When it does, she clams up and curls in on herself, but tries her best to deescalate or rectify the situation. She’s also very sensitive to any kind of conflict, even when she’s not part of it. Midori also worries a lot for Suiren while she’s away on missions, as she knows she’ll completely fall apart if something were to happen to Renny. She has nightmares about it often, almost every night that Suiren is not there. Little does she know, Suiren has similar worries over losing her.

Another big thing is her major inferiority complex. She looks at her big sister and sees someone who has always been talented, powerful and capable. Someone who can do so many things without even breaking a sweat. Someone who has girls fawning all over her. And then ‘Dori looks at herself and sees none of those things. She doesn’t hate Suiren for it, not at all, but tiny inklings of disdain sometimes take form. She tries hard to ignore it, but often can do nothing but listen to those thoughts swirl around in her head.

In summary: An anxious mess of a girl who is in desperate need of a proper support system and someone (*cough* Opal *cough*) who could assure her that she is enough and that it doesn’t matter if she isn’t like her sister, she’s perfect just the way she is

-

If you want me to elaborate on any of this (and this goes for everyone, not just anon) my askbox is always open and my desire to infodump about my precious traumatised babies never wavers

[boythirteen]

I finished writing the sermon. I think it will be called Here Comes the Bride.

Hello everyone. Thank you to Rev. Pat for inviting me to preach today, even if she gave me this Sunday with a harsh gospel reading. One that, on the surface, is about an overly entitled bridegroom slamming a door on a group of otherwise supportive women deemed “foolish” because they didn’t, by his standards, adequately prepare themselves for having to wait and wait for his delayed arrival. I think I feel angry about this story. It’s strange that I didn’t know I felt this, or not how deeply, until just now, or just then last week when I began to write this sermon. I thought what I felt was confusion, or consternation. But no, I feel mad. I’m really mad about societal hierarchies and religions of all kinds being used as models to build and fortify and maintain oppressive structures. I’m mad about christian nationalism parading around with it’s oafish, ugly, sanctimonious, cowardly boots just trampling on everything it views as unworthy and defenseless enough to readily mow down, which is everything I value as tender and vulnerable and diverse and interesting and precious and likely foolish as well. I want the bride-to-be to call out to the “foolish” women to just storm the door and flatten the man and rush right in. It’s her wedding, too.

Okay I’ve gotten that off my chest so now we can read the verses from Matthew and talk about them. I haven’t gotten it off my chest, though. I hope that none of us will ever get it off our chests as long as inequities slam doors on vulnerable people. Because what is most troubling to me about this reading, and all of these kinds of readings, is how easily weaponized they can be in the hands of bigoted people who claim God’s favor. How these readings can be used to cast struggling people such as asylum seekers, or anyone else in desperate need, as the foolish bridesmaids who’ve used up their oil and now want handouts from rightfully resourced people such as themselves. And how, in their view, even God shuns those irresponsible ones with their hands out. 

So maybe we need to tear these verses apart, or whatever we have to do to find what includes us and uplifts us and loves us, all of us, all children of a loving God. 

This is the reading from Matthew:

“At that time the reign of heaven will be like ten bridesmaids who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones took their lamps but did not take any oil with them. The wise ones, however, took oil in jars along with their lamps. The bridegroom was a long time in coming, and they all became drowsy and fell asleep. At midnight the cry rang out: ‘Here’s the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ Then all the bridesmaids woke up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil; our lamps are going out.’ No,’ they replied, ‘there may not be enough for both us and you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.’ But while they were on their way to buy the oil, the bridegroom arrived. The bridesmaids who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet. And the door was shut. Later the others also came. ‘Lord, Lord,’ they said, ‘open the door for us!’ But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I don’t know you.’ Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.  

So, firstly, the reading begins “At that time,” which implies that the reign of God may be something we will perceive of differently at another time—that our cultural structures and practices will change as we evolve in understanding and awareness. We’ve already changed our perspective enough to say “reign” instead of kingdom for inclusivity’s sake, as maybe it’s a queendom. Or we say commonwealth and move away from notions of a reign altogether. We think of loving community. We think of our earthly lives as worthy and good and not just testing grounds for whether or not we win the prize of heaven. We all get to heaven, or this is my belief and one I feel is shared by many here. Which is why this reading is so maddening with its seeming exclusivity, and why it just can’t be about God saying I don’t know you to people who weren’t ready enough by some divine standard that was never made clear, and one that afforded no room for repentance or second chances. The foolish bridesmaids did manage to find and buy more oil in the middle of the night. They tried to ready themselves after the fact and surely learned something from having been negligent at first, but nothing counted except the original negligence, apparently. And what about the selfish bridesmaids who wouldn’t share, who were actually rewarded for being self-serving and hoarding their oil. How does any of this align with Jesus’s teachings about loving one another, about God being a God of Love who knows every hair on our heads? How could the God of Love who knows us microscopically possibly say I don’t know you to anyone for any reason?

I think I can remember this passage being preached about at different times before, and how the differences in cultural practices and socio-political realities for the people of Matthew’s day, as well as Matthew’s particular personality and tendency to write of fiery pits and gnashing teeth, are reasons for the tone of it being overly severe and difficult to mesh with a gospel of good news, to our modern understanding. 

Something I saw on Twitter, or X, after having written this much of the sermon, was a post from Sherrilyn Ifill in response to a video of Netanyahu quoting 1 Samuel as justification for Israel’s retaliatory actions. “You must remember what Amalek has done to you, says our Holy Bible” was his statement. Sherrilyn Ifill’s response first quoted the rest of the verse, which reads: “Now go, totally destroy all that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men & women, children & infants, cattle & sheep, camels & donkeys.” And then she ended her tweet with this statement: Please. It is 2023. Not 550 B.C.

Yes, surely we’ve evolved, at least a little. But how is it that we still have wars? That we even make rules about how to properly kill and capture and conquer each other? Sanctioned killing of each other. And then we break the rules anyway. 

This sermon won’t be able to focus on those horrors, though. But we can look at the Matthew story with 2023 eyes and ask questions.

Do you sometimes wonder why the disciples didn’t ask more questions after listening to Jesus? I can imagine sitting in the circle around Jesus and wanting to shoot up my hand and say wait please will you explain that part a little more? Is God telling those bridesmaids to go away? Is that the final word? And what does it mean to be ready? How do we make ourselves ready enough? Didn’t everyone fall asleep while they were waiting? Isn’t that an egregious thing like falling asleep at one’s post? Why wasn’t that enough to disqualify all 10 bridesmaids, if the point is incessant watchfulness? And was it really so bad to not have enough oil when the bridegroom arrived much later than expected? Is there any accountability for lateness, or is preparedness the only issue? Does the bride get to have a say? Is the bride even worthy of being a character in the story? What happens to the bridesmaids who have the door shut on them? Do the bridesmaids who got in feel bad now about not sharing? Aren’t they kind of like the religious authorities who monopolize their access to God? And isn’t the bridegroom like a gate-keeper who makes generalized assumptions about people and paints them with too broad a brush instead of as individuals with unique needs and histories and underlying reasons for their actions, including systemic ones that make their roads hard? What if a foolish bridesmaid didn’t have enough money for more oil? What if she wasn’t physically strong and couldn’t carry it? What if she was socially awkward and just couldn’t easily navigate the market to buy oil at all, or had no understanding of how much would be enough? Doesn’t a requirement for “readiness” need to account for an individual’s location on their own evolutionary path? Has the person had access to wise instruction? Have they had good role models or bad role models? Have they had shelter and food? Am I taking this too literally? Is the bridegroom supposed to be God? Are we supposed to admire the wise bridesmaids? Is it okay if we find ourselves sympathetic to the foolish ones? Would the door really be shut on anyone? Would you, Jesus, knowing how strange life is, how difficult it is to hold on to certainty about anything, how hard to really know anything, how easy to fall short, how hard we often try, how sometimes we don’t try, how much we hope to be loved and valued—would you really ever shut the door on any one of us? Does anyone in the story have a good result? 

Let’s talk about how no one has a good result. If this wedding banquet is heaven, or even if it’s earthly life, is it where you would want to be—an exclusive place with a rigid, authoritarian gatekeeper and stuffy proper guests who selfishly hoard their resources? With no room for people who don’t conform to the rules, or who fall short in some way according to unclear standards that are nonetheless exacting. A place that doesn’t allow for learning or growth but freezes a person at the moment of a perceived shortcoming, thereafter defining the person by this shortcoming and not by any effort they’ve made to overcome it. What do the 5 bridesmaids gain by leaving the foolish ones behind? Whatever their duties are to the bride, they’ve now been doubled. They’re 5 bridesmaids short. And maybe they’ve gotten into the banquet, they’ve been approved of, but at the expense of betraying their friends who were probably the fun, free-spirited ones who would have enlivened the party. And the bridegroom has 5 fewer guests, 5 fewer people to celebrate with him, with the excluded ones being those who’d proven themselves the most dedicated and supportive, having made the extra effort to find oil in the middle of the night. And the bridegroom has revealed an unexpectedly cold side of himself that has no problem standing face to face with the bridesmaids, who are likely out of breath and anxious from rushing and being late, women he surely does know, and saying this most dehumanizing and distancing thing to them—I don’t know you. How awful for everyone. Not to mention the bride who’s shoved out of the story altogether.

So what would need to go differently in the story for it to feel genuinely inspiring and instructive and inclusive of all? I do wonder why the falling asleep part doesn’t carry more weight, since it seems to foreshadow the disciples inability to stay awake with Jesus at Gethsemane, which was something he needed and so wanted them to do. But that part is mostly overlooked, or not what anyone is later held to account for. The most glaring part where the story goes wrong is when the wise bridesmaids refuse to share their oil. And they don’t even need to share the actual oil. They could just let the foolish bridesmaids walk close beside them and share their lamplight. They could each link arms with a foolish bridesmaid, each pair skipping along to the banquet with their single shared lamp. They could be caring and loving and figure it out. Isn’t this what preparedness should be? Willingness to step in, to help, to provide where there’s need. To love one another. And if that doesn’t happen, if the wise bridesmaids miss their opportunity to better love the foolish ones, the bridegroom could wait a moment longer after his tardy arrival to be sure all the bridesmaids are there with lit lamps. He could exercise the patience he requires of others. Then everyone could joyously proceed to the banquet with a collective sense of belonging and worthiness, the wise bridesmaids perhaps with a tinge of regret at not having generously shared their oil, but with supportive assurance from the others that they can always start now to have sharing hearts.

As we can, now in our present time of 2023, imagine new ways to unravel this story and find good news. It’s fun. I think it’s the point. I think we can each find our place in it and better understand how best to participate in the commonwealth. Do you identify with the foolish bridesmaids? I suspect most of us here do. I think they’re the queer ones. They’re the ones who know they won’t fit in and don’t really want to go to the dumb exclusive banquet anyway, but they wear the dumb dresses and try because they want to support the bride and have sisterhood solidarity. And now, after being tossed out, they have lit lamps and extra oil and can just go freely into the night and be themselves and let their freak flags fly. They can celebrate in full confidence that they, too, are God’s beloved, and no gate-keeping christian nationalist can tell them otherwise.

If you ever think of sermons as being overly long, this will be the part where you can say to yourself he could have stopped there. But I will carry on a little longer and think about the lectionary pairing of this gospel reading with the reading from Psalms 63. It says:

I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory.

Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you.

I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands.

I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you.

On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night.

Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings.

I cling to you; your right hand upholds me.

And this is good to include because what this Psalm does, for me, is recast the readiness or preparedness or watchfulness that seems a harsh requirement in the gospel reading as something far more tender and loving and available to all. The readiness we are called to exercise seems to simply be a deep gratitude for God’s love, and an awareness of ourselves as God’s beloved. The readiness is our whole acceptance of God as always with us. It isn’t about waiting on God. It’s knowing God is here.

Okay, and one last thing which actually is a cautionary thing even though I do believe we’re all definitely beloved by God no matter if we’re foolish or wise. But in preparing to write this sermon, I read back through the chapter preceding the gospel reading, Matthew chapter 24, which includes a dramatically graphic narrative about the end times, which is what our gospel reading from chapter 25 is also alluding to. The description of the end times so closely mirrors what our world feels like today that we might wonder if this is it. But those of Matthew’s day believed that the end was nigh for them, too, so maybe not. Maybe the end is always nigh. Maybe we’re always meant to live like there’s no tomorrow. But something that spoke to me, loudly, in the description of the end of days was in these verses that say:   

At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other, and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people. Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.

The part that struck me was Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved. Or most specifically, the love of most will grow cold. Because I can feel this happening to me. I can feel my heart hardening. The part about standing firm to the end and being saved doesn’t, to me, mean securing a spot in heaven, but more being saved from the affliction of having a hard heart, which is something contagious that hurts in all ways—spiritually and physically and intellectually and emotionally. It feels, to me, like being squeezed in a vice. I feel it most when I read posts or comments online made by people who are transphobic. I feel hatred for them. I don’t consider, at all, any way of reaching them but am instead immediately on the attack. I come out fighting and name-calling and behaving toward them just as I feel they’re behaving toward me. Which, I know, only solidifies their disdain for me as mine is becoming more solidified toward them, but I seem to take an ugly pleasure in all of it. But later I feel squeezed. And this seems, to me, to be pertinent to this sermon because it feels like a place where I forget to feel beloved by God. I don’t even try to feel beloved. Which is a darkness in me I need to dispel, a place where I do need to exercise vigilance. If readiness is a deep awareness of God’s Love, as I think the psalm is saying, I need to remember to be beloved, to feel God with me. I don’t even know how this might change my interactions because I haven’t practiced it enough yet, but now I am admitting to a void of this kind of preparedness I do want to fill, to have extra oil to shine brighter and longer and more lovingly, and with enough to share.

Amen

[anvoo]

I'll think of a title later.

Me and Cat talked a bit more last night, and we came to the conclusion that right now's not a good time for us to consider getting back together and it'll stay that way for probably a long time xD

What are you thinking about right now?

There are a lot of thoughts going around in my head right now, and I thought that writing would help me untangle and organize them better.

That's good! Let's start then :>

I can't really accurately describe or say how I'm feeling right now, but it's a mix of many.

The first thing I'll like to say is that I'm really happy that I've met Cat and that we're part of each others' lives. The love and care we have for each other are really precious to me, and so are the honesty, trust, and vulnerability we have and can show one another. I'm happy that we could be friends still. Granted, right now we're not completely detached from the idea of wanting each other, but time and honest communication are the antidote here.

The "want" here of us is a feeling - something that arises from the love and care we have for each other, us being together before, and maybe hormones and sexual tension; and like all feelings, they don't always make sense, so I won't think too hard about it.

I brought up the topic of getting back together with Cat because I noticed that our feeling of "wanting" still lingers in the air. I wanted to talk with her and see if this feeling could lead to something more, as in whether or not it would be a good decision for us to be in a romantic relationship. Being with someone romantically is a life decision. The love, care, feelings,... all the irrational, the romantic, the weird, and the daydreaming is encapsulated in the "want", but the "being together" part boils down to "life decision", not different from choosing where you'll want to live, what kind of work you'll want to do, whether or not you want to have a pet or children,...

And right now we don't think that life decision is a good idea. From the whole past few days and us talking about this, I think one thing I definitely learned is to "take my time". Take my time to really think before making decisions and saying things. I think I rushed a bit into it and let a few things get ahead of me without having thought enough about it v.v validation-seeking habits and risky romantic, idealistic, crazy scenario-building mindset x.x

But hey, lesson learned.

I don't love and care for Cat only when she's a potential partner, I just do. I know she feels the same way too. I'm happy that there's someone who thinks and feels that way about me, and it really warms my heart. Out of everything, I'm happy that I'm living my life with love and care as my compass. I'll take care of myself, do things I believe are right and good for me, and just have faith in the future. I don't think Cat will be the last person I love and care for, and that's ok :> I'll look back at the feelings we have for each other as a fond memory, and as a reminder that I'm pretty cool and awesome. Right now we're still a bit in it together, tackling the "want", but I believe that we'll handle it fine. We're smart people, and we care about each other, so things will work out :> I have faith in myself, and also in Cat.

[staytheword]

Hm Miu omg? Will there ever be a time when I don't tear up (or actually, let's be honest, full on cry) at what you write to me? Omg...

You are so so kind to me and I know you know but you never have to do as much, like... Holy shit, you are so sweet and such an incredible friend and human being, I'm on the floor at who you are, your sensibility, your eye for things, your empathy, your kindness. There aren't a lot of people like you Miu, you're truly precious and one day I will find a way to properly thank you.

It's the same for me, you know? Having met you, reading you, witnessing your talent, such a highlight. Your stories have a profound impact and I know I will remember them for a long time. I just know. You, also. I often think about you and hope you are doing all right. You are an incredible friend and person. I love you. ❤️

I wish I had the words to thank you appropriately for what you said, about how I write Chan, about how I write in general, but I'm just speechless. And when I say that I mean it - I always try to find the words, words are familiar to me, comforting, but right now they are coming up short, I just... I just have this warmth in my chest, and a smile on my face, and I'm just so grateful. You are so kind.

Chan is so special. I think, in a way, we all bias him... in a Chan way, you know? Like, he's comfort. He's our lighthouse for real. And it's a lot of pressure to put on someone's shoulders but I feel like that's mutual. You know he said, Channie's room is comforting to us and we thank him, but it's the same for him. It's comforting for him and it's safe for him. That made me feel a lot better about said pressure. I have so much love to give to him, we all do, because he's such a presence in our lives. He's unexplainable. So I think I tried to put those feelings in this story, how Chan makes me feel, how he's a friend although I do not know him. Those feelings are so profound and impactful and it was hard to put them into words but thank you for what you said. I'm very moved 😭

You noticed so many little details that I thought no one would, and that means the world. That you read, that you saw, that you felt. When you read me I know you read ME. Does that make sense? And it's why we write, right? To be heard, to be seen, just a little... Giving parts of ourselves... It's hard, it makes us vulnerable, but it's also the greatest thing because sometimes, just sometimes, magic happens and someone hears back... and there's this sharing... And I think that's what is happening between you and me. And that's so fucking precious to me.

I LOVE JISUNG SO MUCH. He's so fragile but he's so strong at the same time, and that moment when he holds her, for me it was Ji's strength that we don't see often but that is always there. Thank you for noticing it ❤️

Like what you said. I can't believe Chan EXISTS. How can such a person exist. It's beyond me. All words. I FEEL THAT.

Thank you for sharing what you said about yourself. It takes a lot to do that, and I do not take it lightly. I understand. I so understand, Miu. "everything I taught him, all I gave him digested, seeped through." I know that feeling. We are kind people Miu, we give so much. And we do not expect anything back. But it's still hurts when people take and just take and then leave. And we are left with this hole in our chest. And we did it all for them. What's left for us? What did they teach us? It's hard not to get bitter. We are destroyed and we still have to pick ourselves up. Anyway I'm getting lost but I know you know. That feeling. I'm giving you a big, tight hug right now. I love you. I see you.

"Can someone gift him to me, please?" IF I COULD, I WOULD MIU. I SO WOULD.

Also you talked about dialogue and like how I imagine things... I can't really tell you because I don't have a clue, but I do something with dialogue that helps me a lot. And it's especially easy writing the Kids because I know them and their voice - but I just say the lines. Out loud. Or in my head at least. I say them and it it feels natural I keep it, or I change it. Speaking out loud the dialogue helps me a lot because it's important to me that it flows and feels like something a person would say - this person. ❤️

I'm so very honored about everything you said and I can't deem myself worthy but I'm still honored. I really am. Thank you Miu. You are such a kind soul and aoifaosf... I'm just on the floor tearing up and wishing I could give you a big hug. Thank you for what you said about the story, the writing, and how you open yourself to me. I love you and I feel safe that you read me. That you are in my life. You are so important to me.

Thank you. ❤️

falling rain

falling rain — one shot [ back to general masterlist ]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• bang chan x female reader, other stray kids members are mentioned/featured, as well as other idols (itzy’s yeji, ateez’s san, nmixx's lily).

• non idol au, friends to lovers. angst, fluff, post breakup sadness and melancholia. drinking. explicit language. smut, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex.

• word count: 11k (11,199)

You fell out of love. It happens. All you need is time to piece yourself back together. But as you and your friends meet for a movie night, you don’t expect your ex to be there - yet he is, and it looks like he’s doing much better than you do. Luckily, your friends are there for you - especially Chan.

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior​ ; @upallnight-s​ ; @changbinluvr​ ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan

• story taglist: @tanyas97 ; @hyynee ; @moonlightcandy00 ; @drhsthl ; @flakeisthebest

• author’s note: Here it is! Thank you for your support on the preview, I am so glad you guys liked it and were excited for the full story. I hope you enjoy it! Take care <3

The rain is cold against your skin. 

You look up at the sky through your transparent umbrella. Swirls of pale gray cover the horizon, blurred by drops of rain sliding down the plastic material. It was darker earlier - the rain will stop soon. 

The bus stops in front of you, its brakes squeaking. You close your umbrella and get on, sitting where you usually do, at the back, next to the window. Placed between your legs, your umbrella is getting your jeans wet, but you don’t care. You close your eyes, letting the music in your ears soothe you. You’ve been taking the same bus route everyday for years, so you know exactly how much time you have before your stop. It’s not like you’re afraid of falling asleep, anyway. You never sleep in transportation, and it’s not like your mind has been able to rest easy recently. 

Your playlist transports you through melancholic melodies, pianos and violins lulling your senses. Your favorite songs do not let you forget the ache - they remind you of it, softly, tenderly. That’s what you want, anyway. 

You’re not interested in forgetting. You just want to heal.

When you open your eyes, your stop is a minute away. You press the button and get up, ignoring the inevitable looks of the other passengers on the bus. People are always staring. Always judging. Often, you care. These days, not so much. You can’t control them, what they do, what they think. They’ll see the shadows under your eyes, the pale skin, the chapped lips, and they’ll tell yourselves, she isn’t sleeping much. She looks terrible. She must be going through something. 

So what if I am, you want to tell them? Aren’t we all? 

When you step off the bus, it’s barely raining anymore and you decide not to open your umbrella. You let the rain slide through your hair, against your hands. You’re so cold but you’re used to it. You haven’t been able to warm up in a while. The rain feels good, actually. It makes you aware of your body, of your skin. As you walk towards your apartment building, you tilt your head backwards and let the rain fall down your cheeks like tears. 

Daylight has almost vanished when you unlock your apartment door, and you step inside with a sigh. You’ve grown to hate this place so much, but there is nowhere else to go. You should look for another apartment, but moving seems like an insurmountable amount of shit to go through and you just don’t have the energy. Maybe in a few weeks. Maybe in a few months. Maybe. 

You start by taking a shower, the boiling hot water contrasting with your icy cold skin. You wash your hair, apply lotion. Your movements are slow but you get there eventually. Wrapped in your bathrobe, you open your closet and stare at your clothes. It’s not that you hate them, you just have no idea what to choose. You’re not going someplace fancy, so you end up slipping on a simple pair of jeans and a warm sweater. 

You should probably eat something, but your stomach is in a tight knot. There will be food at Yeji’s place, anyway. 

As you check your phone and realize you still have some time before you have to leave, you let out a long sigh and sit on your bed. You’re not sure you really want to go, but your friends organized this movie night a while ago and they are excited for it. Yeji’s place is perfect for it - she has a projector, which allows the movies to play as wide as the wall. Everyone has been tasked to bring their favorite snacks and drinks. It’s going to be a chill night, and you’ll be happy to see your friends, but everything feels exhausting. 

You promised you were going to be there. So you will go. 

It’s not like they will bother you, anyway. They all know you pretty well, although some more than others, but they are all aware of what is going on with you. No secrets to have. Still you don’t want to be a bore, and you know you’ll do your best to smile throughout. It’s not that they want you to - but you’ll still do it. It’s just who you are. 

At least he won’t be there. Yeji said he wouldn’t - had plans already, apparently. It would be okay if your ex was there - actually, you’ve seen him a couple of times already since your breakup. But you need to be in the right mindset - and today you aren’t, so it’s good he’ll be absent. 

You let out a long sigh and stand up to dry your hair. 

You apply simple makeup, a bit of eyeliner, some mascara. You put on your favorite necklace. You decide to wear perfume. Little things to make you feel better, like you aren’t crippled inside, like you don’t have a decaying organ in your chest. It’s recent, that you’re able to do that. A week ago you would’ve showed up in sweatpants and messy hair. 

Little steps. 

As you grab a tote bag to fill it with the snacks you bought yesterday, you get a text from Yeji. 

Everything okay? 

Come anytime <3

She’s checking up on you and you’re grateful for it. Not a lot of people do, not even your closest friends. You don’t blame them - you haven’t been good company and sometimes it’s hard to find the right words. Some of them have been anxious that your breakup with San will mess up their friend group, and in fear of seeming like they’re taking sides, they just decided not to say anything. They take care of you differently - but sometimes you hate that they can’t talk about it with you. 

Yeji doesn’t do that. She’s been there for you at every step - and it’s not because she blames or dislikes San. It’s just different for you and her, because your friendship not only goes way back when your friend group got together, but also way beyond. 

Leaving in 5, you text back, and she sends a heart emoji. 

Once you’re ready, you slip on your jacket and stare at your reflection in the hallway mirror. You look your normal self, except for the obvious exhaustion on your face, and the slightly vacant look in your eyes. 

You can do this. 

You won’t let your stupid, broken heart define you or your life. 

When you get to Yeji’s, she pulls you into a tight hug. A few people are already there - Jeongin is already snacking on a huge bowl of popcorn, talking to Lily, who’s on her phone scrolling down Pinterest boards. Changbin and his girlfriend, the newest addition to your friend group, are bundled up under a blanket on the couch and wave at you. 

You follow Yeji to the kitchen, putting the cans of soda you brought in the fridge, adding your snacks to the pile on the counter. 

“You look really pretty,” Yeji tells you with a smile. “Is that the sweater we got together the other day?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m still not sure about the color, though.”

“No, it suits you. I promise.” 

You give her a sincere smile as she empties a bag of potato chips in a bowl. It’s quiet in the apartment, but you know it won’t last very long - except for Changbin, the loudest people have yet to arrive. 

“How was work today?” Yeji asks. 

“Fine,” you shrug. “Boring.” 

She gives you a long look. 

“You know you don’t have to stay there, right? You can find something else. With your skills it would be easy -”

“I know, Yeji,” you say in a low voice. “But not right now.” 

You play with your nail polish, chipping a small piece from your thumb. 

“Right now boring is good,” you nod, your voice a little more firm. “When I can focus more, I’ll look for something else. Promise.” 

She smiles, taking your hand to give it a squeeze. “I just don’t want you to waste away where you don’t belong. You’re worth so much more.” 

“I appreciate it.” 

You put your head on her shoulder for a second as Jeongin’s laugh resonates through the apartment. It’s a sweet and familiar sound, and you start to believe it was a good idea to come. 

Grabbing the filled bowls of potato chips, you and Yeji join the others in the living room. You sit down next to Jeongin, who quickly shows you the funny puppy video Lily has shown him, and you giggle at the screen. As Yeji starts to set up the projector, the door opens on a few more of your friends and you know it won’t be quiet anymore. 

Chan, Jisung and Minho are yelling about something, raising the volume of the conversation a million dozen decibels, and you shake your head at the sight of them. Chaotic and loud as they are, even in your state you are grateful for them, because whatever the circumstances they can always make you smile, or, at least, provide welcome distractions. 

They drop down in the remaining spots, either on the couch or the floor, Minho diving his hand down Jeongin’s popcorn bowl and Jisung arguing with Changbin about the type of beer he bought - of course, as usual, Jisung’s only answer to Changbin’s complaint is a simple traitor. 

“THIS AGAIN…” Changbin yells at the top of his lungs. 

You can’t help but smile. That game has been going on since Changbin moved out of his apartment with Jisung and Chan to move in with his girlfriend - Minho took his spot since, and there really isn’t any bad blood between them, but Jisung loves to remind Changbin how he abandoned them. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Minho says, sitting down between you and Jeongin. You took the spot at the end of the couch, a blanket covering your legs. “How’s it going?” 

“I’m okay,” you say with a smile. “What about you?” 

“Fantastic. Did you check out that link I sent you?” 

You start to talk a little - you and Minho work in a similar domain and it’s always nice to exchange ideas and anecdotes. You find yourself immersed in the conversation, the noise of all your friends chatting and laughing mixing into a background noise you can’t get enough of - it definitely helps the black hole inside your chest. You don’t feel so cold, you don’t feel so empty. You know it won’t last, and reality will catch up to you quickly, but for now you allow yourself to relax. 

“Y/N.” 

You turn towards Chan, who has stopped at your level. He’s smiling kindly at you, looking a little tired - but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Like you, Chan barely sleeps. Neither of you can stop the ceaseless train of thought in your heads - while you stare at the ceiling, Chan works. 

“Hey, Channie.” 

“You want something to drink?” 

“Yeah, maybe a soda.” 

“Cool, coming right up.”

“Oiiiii, what about me?” Minho whines. 

He asks for a can of beer, followed by Lily who has finished her previous one, and soon everyone is yelling at Chan to bring them something to drink. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and you chuckle. 

“Let me help you,” you say, standing up. “Y’all are lazy,” you add, squinting your eyes at your friends. 

Their protests all tangle together and you laugh, following Chan to the kitchen. 

Your friends. 

They are all precious to you, all in their own way. 

But Chan. Chan. 

The first time you met him you felt your heartbeat accelerate because he looked so damn charming. A kind smile, eyes like stars, and an energy that immediately soothed you. It did not take long for you to develop a crush on him. How could you not? He was kind, funny, talented, and smart. He truly cared for the people in his life and never broke a promise. Handsome, too, of course. The kind of guy that made you weak in the knees, that sent your thoughts reeling whenever he touched you. 

Your crush had always been one-sided though, which was fine. You had quickly worked to overcome your physical attraction to him and made it a priority to develop your friendship. Because Chan understood you. You found yourselves exchanging looks and agreeing on similar things often enough so that one day, you sat down next to him during a party to ask for advice and you ended up talking for hours, forgetting to get drunk like everyone else. 

You are not particularly close. You don’t know everything about each other. You mostly see each other with the rest of your friend group - rarely alone. You don’t text each other everyday - in fact, you barely do. But he’s a steady presence in your life, a friend you rely on, and you know it’s the same for him. 

Tonight, you’re especially grateful for him. 

Chan gives you a smile as he opens the fridge. 

“I like your sweater,” he says, handing you a pack of sodas. 

You put it on the kitchen island, smiling. 

“Thank you. I like your earrings. Are they new?” 

You’re used to Chan wearing his silver hoops, but today he’s sporting a simple black dot on one ear, a small lightning bolt on the other. 

“Yeah, I felt like a change,” he nods. “They say it’s good for us, right?” 

“I guess,” you answer simply. “It suits you.”

“Thanks.” 

You exchange smiles, gathering all the desired drinks slowly. You glance at him sometimes, at the angle of his nose, at the dark curls that brush his ears. Your crush on Chan eventually faded away, although never entirely. You have just buried it so deep inside you sometimes you forget it is there - you haven’t thought about it for a long time.

Then again, your heart has been entirely occupied by San. 

Heart.

Body.

Soul.

All of which lay in pieces, now. 

Chan must see the shadows in your eyes, because he frowns a little, looking intently at you. 

“Is something wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to shake the bad thoughts away at the same time.

“No, no, don’t worry.” 

Chan gives you a smile and a short nod, although he’s still frowning. He can feel you don’t want to linger on it - you hope he knows it’s not that you don’t trust him. Besides Yeji, Chan is perhaps the friend you trust the most. 

You remember every single hug he’s given you. 

Always so warm. 

Always at the right time. 

He probably doesn’t know some of them gave you the strength to hold on. The most recent one, about two weeks ago. 

“Can I have another one, please?” 

The barman gives you a nod and turns to prepare you another beer.

Besides you, Yeji gives you a long look. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” 

“Just one more,” you tell her, lifting an index. 

She smiles, throwing an arm around your neck. She keeps a close eye on you - that’s why you feel comfortable to indulge in another drink. You need it, after all. Since your breakup with San, you’ve barely touched alcohol, choosing instead to drown in snacks and utter isolation. 

So for your friend, it’s a step forward that you’ve agreed to come tonight. 

It’s just you, Yeji, Chan and Jisung. A quiet night at the local pub. 

A few beers, a board game.

When you have a new full pint, you and Yeji head back to the table and sit down. All of you decide to play another game, and Jisung starts shuffling the cards, telling you some dumb joke. You know he’s doing that to make you feel better, and it works. You find yourself smiling so much your cheeks hurt a little. 

You place your head on his shoulder, affectionately, and cross Chan’s gaze. He’s smiling, too, fondly. 

Your friends are talking and your heart hurts so fucking much.

You miss San. You’ve fallen out of love a long time ago, you now realize, but it’s still painful. You have to start over. You have to find yourself again. It’ll be long work - but you’ll do it. And as you look at your friends, you think to yourself they will make it easier. You’ve been drinking a little, and the emotion swells in your chest. 

“Y/N, don’t cry!” Yeji cries out, noticing the tears on your cheeks.

You have not even realized you are crying. You touch your skin in surprise, letting out a giggle.

“Awwww, no, honey,” Jisung says, drawing you in his arms. 

He rocks you like a child and you laugh as more tears drip down your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I love you guys so much.” 

“Nooo, you’re gonna make me cry too,” Yeji cries out, taking your hand.

“I know it’s not… Not easy for you, because San is your friend, and…” You sniffle. “I don’t want this to be difficult for you.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N,” Jisung whispers. “We’re your friends, too.” 

“We’re here for you,” Chan nods. 

Crying and laughing at the same time, your friends decide to keep playing to get your mind off of things. You’re grateful.

Yeji wins, of course. She always does. Once all your beers are finished, you agree to go. Chan will drive Yeji home - he’s only had one pint. Jisung lives close to you, so you decide to walk together. 

You say goodnight to Yeji. She places a kiss on your cheek, squeezes your hand. Chan draws you into a hug. 

It’s so loving. So steady. 

It takes the breath out of your lungs. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he says in your ear. “I’m here if you need me.” 

You’re too dumbstruck to reply. But you know you’ll remember those words for a long time.

You do. 

You still remember the words - you can still hear them. 

He’s here.

He loves you.

Like a friend, of course. 

But that is more than enough.

“Y/N?” 

Chan’s voice brings you back to the present. You shake your head and chuckle.

“Sorry. I was just lost in thought.” 

He nods, biting his lip nervously. “By the way, I wanted to ask. There’s this concert next -” 

That’s when you hear the door open - followed by a voice.

His voice.

Your blood freezes in your veins, and you stare dumbly at Chan, unable to move. 

You feel like bursting out in tears. No, no, no. 

Not him, not tonight. 

You feel Chan’s eyes on you. Yet, you don’t really see him. He delicately puts a hand on your wrist. 

“Y/N…” 

You try to gather your thoughts. You should’ve prepared, just in case. You feel so stupid. Of course it was all going too well. 

You’re startled when Yeji bursts in the kitchen, puts her hands on your shoulders and seeks your eyes. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, honey -” 

“What the hell?” you hear Chan mutter next to you. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to come.” 

“He wasn’t,” Yeji hisses. “I swear, he told me he couldn’t.” 

“Fuck’s sake, this dude…” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

Slowly, you look up at your friends, gathering a smile. 

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice clear. You take Yeji’s hands in yours, nod at her. “I’m fine.” 

“Y/N…” 

“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I’ll be fine.” 

You look at Chan next, and you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest. There’s something in his eyes you can’t identify, a spark that is also a shadow. He’s frowning, his body slightly bent towards you, like he’s about to pull you into a hug. You clear your throat and nod, praying to all you can not to let your voice tremble. 

“It’s all right,” you say. “He’s our friend. He should be here.” 

And to some degree, you mean it. 

Yeji gives you a tight hug, and you can hear Chan let out a long sigh from behind you. You can’t linger on it - you have to focus on yourself. 

Stay calm. Breathe. 

You can do this. 

The breakup was hard for the both of you, you remind yourself. You loved each other, you really did, that much you’re sure of. San was never that good of a liar. You have a much more vulnerable nature than him, which was always a source of conflict between you, but you know your breakup affected him. You remember the tears in his eyes. The vein in his neck, pulsing, as he held them back. You remember the way his hand clenched yours. The way his words came out broken from between his teeth. 

It’s over, isn’t it? 

You fell out of love. 

It happens. 

You take a deep breath. You still want San to be your friend. You’ve agreed that you would try, and you intend to follow through on your words. 

You take a step to follow Yeji back to the living room, but Chan puts a delicate hand on your shoulder. You turn around, plunge your eyes in his. You’ve always thought of them as a haven, a night sky full of stars, both deep and bright.

He stares at you with a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow. He smells as he always has, a smell you’ve wanted on your pillow for so long - and it still makes you slightly dizzy although you know there’s no chance with him. 

“If at any moment you want to go home, tell me, yeah?” he whispers to you. “I’ll drive you.” 

You’re a little entranced by the soft lines on his full lips and the way his low voice scrapes - but you manage a nod, after what feels like a long second. 

“Thank you.” 

He nods, gives your shoulder a squeeze and lets you go. The warmth of his hand lingers there, and it gives you courage to move forward. 

San has already taken a seat next to Jisung and glances at you when you walk into the room. Your friends are kind enough to keep the conversation going, so the room doesn’t fall silent, but your heart sinks at the bottom of your chest. 

Because San doesn’t look tired. He doesn’t look sad. 

In fact, he beams. 

Eyes sparkling. 

New clothes, new watch. 

A smile so wide it slices right through your heart. 

Fuck, he looks so happy. 

You have to bite your tongue so you burst out crying. You stagger a little bit, but Chan is right behind you and it prevents you from falling back. His warmth, the voices of your friends, everything makes it better. 

“Hey,” you manage to say, although you’re not sure how. “You look good.” 

“Thanks, you too,” he tells you, but his voice is distant. His eyes are too, like he doesn’t even see you anymore. Not like he did before. 

It’s abundantly clear - your ex has moved on. 

It’s not that you still have feelings for him - you just need time to grieve what you had. San was a huge part of your life for a long time, and suddenly he isn’t there anymore. That absence, that void, that’s what is difficult to deal with. Being so goddamn alone all the time. No one to make you feel loved. No one to love, either. 

You’re still putting yourself back together. 

You’re still healing. 

Not him. He’s done it. 

You should be happy for him, and in a way, you are. You’re not mad he’s moved on. But it happened so quickly. It hasn’t even been two months. You were together for more than a year. Maybe you’re jealous, maybe you’re bitter. But mostly it hurts. 

How long is it going to take you? Why are you so goddamn sensitive? 

You breathe out and help Chan bring everyone their drinks. San’s laughter is a haunting melody and you can’t wait for the movie to start so you can think about something else. You take your previous seat, and Jeongin rubs your back affectionately, offering you the bowl of popcorn. 

Chan sits at the opposite side of the room. Pathetically, you wish he was still next to you. Instead you focus on the images that start playing, projected on the white wall in front of you. It’s a movie you’ve already seen, but that’s ok. It’s not like you can really focus, anyway. 

Because all you can see is San. Funny, clever, happy. You know him, you’d know if he was pretending, but he isn’t. He’s liberated. It’s the only word that comes to mind. You wonder for how long you’ve been bringing him down. If he realized it and hated you for it. If he couldn’t wait to get rid of you. If he was just looking for an excuse and -

You close your eyes and put a stop to the intruding thoughts.

No. It wasn’t like that. 

Was it? 

You don’t know anymore.

You barely follow the movie because your thoughts keep spiraling. Around you, your friends are chatting, making jokes, and commenting on the movie. Jisung’s laugh is so loud it takes over sometimes and you take refuge in it. But your heart feels frozen in place, in the middle of two beats, unable to go forward. You stare into nothing. You don’t even touch your soda. The popcorn, either - so you hand it back to Jeongin. His presence feels good, too. 

You hate yourself for being unable to live in the moment. For letting your mind wander like it is, dizzy and unkind. 

In the movie, people say what they think. 

In the movie, loving doesn’t seem so hard. 

In the movie, it doesn’t rain. 

It’s a blessing and a curse that everyone is watching the movie, and that you’re sitting in the corner, in the dark. Your eyes are filled with tears and suddenly one escapes and slides down your cheek. You fidget in your seat, faking a yawn to wipe it away. You pull the blanket over your trembling body. You laugh when the others do, although it’s heartless. Nobody notices - or so you think - and it’s a good thing. 

You try to focus on the movie. It’s entertaining, it’s funny, and for a minute, maybe, you succeed in feeling better. Then you see, from the corner of your eye, San pulling out his phone. He stares at the screen, and in the dark, its blue light illuminates his face. He smiles at it and types a few words. You know that smile. Fuck, you were that smile, once. 

You clench your jaw, hard, and wanting to look away you accidentally fall into Chan’s eyes. He’s looking at you, and although you can’t see his face very well in the darkness, you notice the worry in his eyes. He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t say anything - but you hear his silent question. You need to go?

You shake your head slowly, forcing a smile. I’m fine. I’m fine. 

He nods. He doesn’t believe you. 

You stand up on shaky legs and head to the bathroom. Once you close the door, you don’t even open the light. You wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of your own reflection. You just breathe out, breathe in, and then breathe out again. The tears fall down your cheeks, warm. They taste bitter on your lips. 

Why can’t you be like him? Why can’t you move on, be happy? 

You take a few minutes to collect yourself. It’s fine - you don’t mind seeing San. It’s good, if, unlike you, he’s able to rebuild himself. It’s all you wish for him, and you know it’s all he wishes for you, too. He’d probably be honestly sad to know you aren’t doing well. You can never tell him, of course. You’ll pretend as well as you can - you can’t allow yourself to be vulnerable with him for now. You’ll keep it for yourself, shamefully, selfishly. 

It will be fine. 

You’ll get over it. He did, so why not you?

Once you feel ready, you head out the bathroom, and Chan is there, leaning against the wall. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” you chuckle. “I didn’t realize someone was waiting. Did you -” 

You stop as Chan puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to him. You fall into his arms, and you’re a little shocked so you don’t move at first. Still, Chan holds you there. You stammer. 

“C-Chan, I’m okay, you don’t have to -” 

“Y/N,” he says, and there’s something about the way he whispers your name that makes your heart ache. “I saw you crying. Please. You don’t have to hide.” 

Gently, you let your head fall against his chest. He hugs you a little tighter. 

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he whispers. “You don’t have to hide.” 

You nod. He said it in such a way, you don’t know what it is. 

You are friends. 

You’ve been for a long time. 

Despite your crush on him, despite the awkward period where he was aware of it but didn’t say anything, despite all of that, you are friends. 

But Chan has always been more than that for you.

Chan is a pillar, Chan is a mess. 

Chan is both the lighthouse and the storm. 

You like the feel of his arms around you. The way his chest moves as he breathes. The texture of his t-shirt. 

Oh, God. Not again. 

You can’t let your crush come back running. You’re just sad. You’re just lonely. It wouldn’t be fair to Chan, would it? He’s your friend. He’s not a pretty face you can choose to lust over whenever you’re lonely. 

Don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. 

Don’t do that to him.

Chan is your friend and he is only trying to be here for you. 

“Do you want to go home?” he whispers in your hair. 

You take a deep breath and nod. Chan takes a step back, smiling kindly at you. You do the same, although it’s a little faint. He bends his knees slightly to be at your height, gently rubs your cheeks to remove the tears and replace your hair. 

“Let’s go, then, love.” 

You don’t have time to gawk at him for using a nickname he’s never said before, because he turns and waves at you to follow him. 

He tells your friends you’re feeling a little sick and he’ll drive you home. You say there’s the flu going around at the office, and you hate lying to your friends, because you know some of you will believe you and some won’t. Right now you don’t really care - even if they all knew it was a lie, they wouldn’t judge you. You make sure to not avoid San’s eyes and smile at him. You don’t want him to start asking questions. 

You get your things. Yeji gives you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, making you promise you’ll text tomorrow. You nod, squeezing her hand and glancing at your friends. There will come a day when you’ll be yourself again. 

You just need time.

Time and a lot of courage.

When you step outside, with Chan right behind you, you realize it’s raining again. You look up at the sky, now a profound black painted by hints of grey clouds. You run to his car, the rain heavy and cold.  

The car is clean and smells nice. Chan pulls back his hoodie, starts the engine and drives away as you look back at the apartment building. You wish you were stronger. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chan says, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping on his thigh to the rhythm of the song on the radio. 

“Do you?” you tell him with a smile. 

“I do,” he nods, matching your smile. “You’re telling yourself you should be stronger.” 

You gawk at him, feeling both embarrassed and scandalized. He shrugs. 

“Didn’t I ever tell you I can read you like an open book?” 

“Tsk,” you retort. “Wasn’t that when we played Mafia?” 

“Whatever applies to Mafia applies to real life.” 

“Not sure that’s true.” 

“This is.” 

You glare at him and he does the same, playfully. You feel much more relaxed now that you’re here. It was always easy to talk to Chan - never does that change, whatever the circumstances. You are much alike in that you tend to put others before yourselves, often at the sacrifice of your own feelings. For some reason, though, that didn’t work between you. The walls immediately fall apart.

“So I’m an open book, huh?” you say, staring at your hands. 

“To me, yes. When I have my eyes on you.” 

“And you had your eyes on me tonight?” you ask without thinking. 

“Of course,” he answers, stopping the car at a red light. “I stayed sober, kept a close eye on you. Just in case.” 

You wince. “Just in case I started crying hysterically or made a scene?” 

He shakes his head, looking at you. The red light reflects on his face, enveloping the car in its hue. The rain thumps on the car in soft sounds. Chan’s dark hair is messy on his head, charmingly curled at the tips. 

“More like in case he did something,” he eventually says. 

“Why would he?” you ask with a frown, assuming he’s talking about San.

“Well…” Chan sighs. “He can be a dick sometimes.” 

You’re surprised by his words - you never would’ve thought that Chan disliked San. On all accounts, they are good friends. Chan chuckles nervously at your look, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry. I know you were a thing for a long time, but… It’s just what I think.” 

“Did he do something?” 

Chan shrugs. “It’s just a feeling. Never really did anything. Except breaking up with you, of course.” 

You scoff. “He’s an asshole for breaking up with me?” 

“Yeah,” Chan stammers. “Just - like - who would ever let a girl like you go?” 

His words don’t make a lot of sense to you. They come to you muffled, as if you are plunged in a dream or in a drunken state. You honestly can’t believe your ears. 

“What are you -” 

He quickly waves his hand, looks away from you to the road ahead - and fortunately for him, the light turns green, so he has a good excuse to change the subject. 

“Don’t mind me. I’m just rambling.” 

You really don’t want to let this go. Your heart is racing, and you honestly wouldn’t know San’s name if someone was to yell it in your ear right now. All you can see is Chan, his tightened jaw, gripping the wheel of his car, driving you home. His words echo in your head, and you’re trying to put everything together. 

Did you miss something? Clearly, Chan has something on his mind, an itch he can’t scratch. Have you been so intoxicated by your grief and sadness that you blacked out? You haven’t been a good friend, that much you know. You just wanted to feel better, first. You were of use to no one feeling this sad and broken. But Chan’s agitation has clearly been there for a while. How long have you been this blind? 

You open your mouth, trying to find the right words. Chan, what is going on?

Chan, are you angry at me?

Chan, please, tell me what’s on your mind. 

You sigh in frustration. You’re silent for a while, your thoughts spiraling, and just when you’re just about ready to ask, your phone rings. You glance at the screen instinctively, and San’s name is like a slap on the face. 

Are you okay? he asks in a text. Tell me when you get home. 

Hints of your boyfriend. Remnants of the past. The text feels like a ghost is speaking to you. It makes you angry. It makes you ache. 

You might not love San anymore, but you miss him. 

“Are you okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. 

You’re about to say you’re fine, which has become an automatic response, but you remember what Chan said. I can read you like an open book. So instead, you take a deep breath. 

“It’s San,” you explain. “He’s asking me if I’m okay and to text him when I’m home.” 

Chan scoffs, and there is nothing amiable in the sound. “The guts on this guy,” he mutters. “I’m literally driving you and he knows that.” 

You frown, sensing the anger in his voice. 

“Seriously, Chan, did something happen between your two?” 

Chan shakes his head. He doesn’t want to look at you. 

“Chan,” you insist. “Tell me, please.” 

He lets out a sigh, gripping the wheel tighter. 

“We might’ve had… an altercation.”

“An altercation?” you repeat. “Like a fight?!” 

“Not a fight,” Chan sighs. “Not a physical one, anyway.”

“What the fuck happened?” 

The words escape your mouth. An uneasy feeling washes over you. Nobody has told you about this. Nobody has said a word. 

“When did this happen?” you ask when Chan doesn’t answer.

“Like… a week ago, I think.” 

“Why didn’t no one -” 

You interrupt yourself and close your eyes. Looking out the car window, you realize you’re already parked in front of your apartment building. How did it go so fast?

For how much longer are you going to keep losing track of time? 

“Chan,” you say, your voice shaking. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

He looks at you with timid eyes. They shimmer in the darkness but you can’t focus on them. You are trembling and you can’t hold on to a single clear thought. Your mind is a blurry mess.

Chan looks out through the window before he takes a deep breath. 

“I didn’t want to do this tonight. You need to rest, you -” 

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll never be able to sleep, so it will be worse.” 

You feel your hands shaking, so you clench your fists. Outside, the rain accelerates, pounds loudly on the car. The sound is almost unbearable but you don’t care. 

“If you’re trying to protect me, I’m grateful,” you add, when you see he’s still hesitating. “But I can take it. I’d rather know.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice quivering. 

“We’re friends, right?” you tell him. “That’s what you said. Be my friend, Chan.” 

He sighs and rubs his eyes. You’re scared, and yet a part of you feels perfectly calm. You hate the fact that something was hidden from you, but you’re so ready to withstand whatever storm is heading your way.

You’d rather stand in chaos than into nothingness. 

At least the chaos makes a little sense. 

“Before I say anything…” Chan sighs. “I don’t want you to take any of this on you, yeah? I know you’ll feel bad, but please, just remember -” 

“For fuck’s sake, Chan,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Get to the point.”

“He has a girlfriend.” 

You stare back at him. 

“What?” 

“San. He has a girlfriend. I thought it was too soon, that it was disrespectful of you, so I told him and it got heated, but… Yeah. Shit. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

It’s like the rain suddenly got quiet. 

A girlfriend. 

You should’ve known. You saw it, after all. The phone, the text, the smile. The happiness in his eyes. The trendy clothes, the new watch. All the hints were there. 

He has moved on. 

More than you expected. 

Everything happens quickly. Your body acts before your brain registers it, and in the blink of an eye you’re outside in the pouring rain. You slam the passenger door behind you, you forget your bag, you don’t even think about it. You just walk forward.

It’s bitter cold. 

In seconds, you’re drenched. 

Your knees feel weak and you’re sure you are going to fall.

A sob escapes your throat. 

It shouldn’t hurt that much. 

You hate your heart. 

You hate how vulnerable it is. 

You want to move on, too. 

“Y/N!” 

You turn around, halfway to the door of your apartment, to find Chan running towards you. You raise your hand slowly. It’s shaking like a leaf.

“It’s fine, Chan. I’m f-” 

“Stop saying that!” 

You’re a bit surprised at the sudden anguish in his voice. He stops inches away from you, getting soaked by the heavy rain. It slides down his cheeks like tears, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. He looks at you fiercely, his eyes blazing with light. 

“I’m sorry, I just - I see you’re hurting and it’s killing me.” 

You don’t know what to tell him. You wish he would go away. You wish he would hug you. You wish the pain would just stop.  

“Y/N -”

“I don’t care!” you scream, the sound getting lost in the rain. 

Chan frowns. 

“I don’t care if he has a girlfriend,” you cry out. “I just…” You shrug, your eyes lost in Chan’s. “I just want to heal, too. I want to move on, too. I’m sick of being sad. I’m sick of hurting.” 

There is such despair in Chan’s face you can hardly bear it. You wish you could tell him not to take the weight of your pain on his shoulders, but you know him better than that. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s here with you.

“You just have to give me time,” you say, your voice falling apart. “I’ll be fine eventually.” 

He lets out a sigh, slides a hand through his drenched hair. A raindrop slides down his face, gets caught on his lips. 

“Please, let’s go inside,” he pleads. “Let me be here for you.” 

You hesitate, but the cold rain keeps you on your toes. You want to be home, in your own space, but you also don’t want to be alone. So you nod, and Chan lets out a sigh, thanking you in a whisper. 

When you step inside your apartment you’re a little shy to turn on the lights because it’s messy, but you can’t really be bothered about that right now. Chan waits on the other side of the door, a hesitant look on his face. 

“Come in,” you tell him. 

He nods, closing the door behind him. Your place is modest, just big enough for one person, situated in the semi-basement of the building. It does not get much light, but it feels cozy and it is cheap. 

The first thing you do is get a towel for Chan so he can dry his hair and his clothes. He hangs his hoodie on a hook near the door; luckily the t-shirt underneath is only damp. His dark blue jeans took the worst of the rain. You suggest giving him some dry clothes, but he insists he’ll be fine. 

You tell him to get comfortable and go to change in your room. Your limbs feel weak as you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a crewneck. You cannot stop thinking about Chan's words. 

San has a girlfriend. 

He has opened his heart to love again. 

The rain keeps falling. 

It’s time you heal. 

When you come back to the living room, Chan is anxiously staring at his phone. He puts it away when he sees you, smiling a little timidly. 

“Feel better?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Want a drink?”

“Sounds good.” 

You give him a gentle smile and you both head to the kitchen, where you fill two glasses of soju. He takes one, clinking it against yours. You drink it in one go. 

“Now that feels better,” you sigh. 

Chan smiles at you fondly, and you nudge his arm. 

“Chan. It’s all right. It had to happen.” 

“So quickly, though?” he winces. 

“We all heal at different paces,” you say softly. “Or maybe it’s his way of healing. Either way I’m happy for him.” 

Chan leans one elbow on the kitchen counter, giving you a long look. You hold his gaze, confused at the sudden calmness you feel.

“You said you can read me like an open book,” you remind him, pouring yourself another drink. “Am I lying?” 

He smiles briefly. “No.” 

“Cheers.” 

He takes another sip, and you imitate him. 

“How about we sit down?” you propose. 

Once in the living room, you sink into the couch. Chan sits at a comfortable distance, twirling his glass between his fingers. It’s strange to see him at your place - because of the size of your apartment, you rarely have friends over. You remember him driving you home a couple of times, but he must have been inside only once or twice in the three years you’ve lived here.

You talk a little, about everything and nothing. You drink some more, perhaps a little too much, but the soju warms your body. Chan relaxes, too. The bottle is quickly empty. 

You both fall silent, and you stare at the bottom of your empty glass. The tears come back too easily. 

“Chan?” 

“Yeah, love?”

You peck your lips. Hearing him say that feels too good. It’s so new, but you already don’t want him to ever stop. 

“Is she pretty?” you utter.

“Y/N…” 

“She must be. Pretty and smart.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Do you know her?” 

You look up, and Chan shakes his head. His hair is untidy, his cheeks a little red, his full lips as inviting as ever. 

“I don’t. Ji told me they met at a party.” 

You let out a shaky sigh. “So everyone knows?” 

You hate the way your voice shudders, but you can’t help it. Chan shuffles closer to you, gently taking your hand in his. It’s warm and familiar. 

“No,” he answers in a soft voice. “Just a few. We wanted to wait for the right moment - well, actually, I thought San should be the one to tell you.” 

You laugh, wiping your tears. “No offense, but that would’ve been worse.” 

Chan snorts amusingly. “Oh. Good thing it didn’t happen, then. I thought it’d be a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” 

You both end up giggling, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand. You sniffle. You don’t let go either.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you say. But why are you so invested in this?”

“In your breakup?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m not invested in your breakup,” he shrugs. “I’m invested in you, you’re my friend.” 

“But it’s - you don’t have to, you can just be like the others, not take a side, you don’t have to fight anyone.” 

“Why wouldn’t I speak out? It bothers me, you know me, I don’t shut up when it comes to people I care about.” 

“But San is your friend, too.” 

“But you’re -” 

You frown. “I’m what?” 

“You’re Y/N.” 

The tenderness in his voice takes you by surprise. It seeps through his lips, echoes in his eyes. You feel your heart twist and turn - and just like that, his fingers slip away from yours.

“Sorry, I…” He closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Hell, I’m doing it all wrong tonight. And I should really stop drinking. How the fuck am I supposed to drive back home?” 

“Chan, wait,” you say, ignoring him. “What are you trying to say?” 

He sighs heavily. His face falls in his hand, and he breathes there for a second before he looks back up at you. He looks so tired.  

“I know you had a crush on me,” he breathes. 

You smile nervously. “Why are you bringing this up?” 

“Because I have a crush on you, too,” he says. 

You blink, and it’s like the world tilts. You haven’t been drinking that much, it can’t be the soju. Still, you feel dizzy and warm. Chan is looking at you with fondness and anguish. 

He didn’t say had.

He said have.

His words are right there, still on the tip of his tongue. 

In his eyes. 

So damn bright. 

No - he’s here because he’s your friend. That’s it.

Isn’t it? 

“I don’t understand,” you breathe out.

“I never acted on it because San had wanted to ask you out for a while,” Chan explains with a shrug. “And you know me. I never put myself before others. And although I sorta knew you had a crush on me, I convinced myself San was better for you.” 

You look down at your hands, feeling completely overwhelmed. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” you whisper. 

“Because you were so happy with him,” Chan says, his voice shaking. “You found each other and it was good, and who was I to say anything? At one point it didn’t even matter anymore, and I buried it deep inside of me, told myself I was over you. You were over me, after all. It was just a crush, anyway. I was so sure you’d be in this with San for the long run.” 

So did I, you want to say. Your throat feels so dry, however, you can’t say anything. You can just stare at Chan. He smiles at you almost carefully. 

“When I heard about your breakup… Everything came rushing back. The other night, after we got drinks, and I saw you crying… I was just so worried about you. So gutted to see you hurt, it was almost unbearable. And then he said he found someone else and I couldn’t understand, and we argued. It was heated, but it’s fine now. We’re good.” 

You close your eyes because the world can’t stop spinning. You were so cold earlier, but now you’re almost sweating. You’re too warm. The world is ablaze. 

Chan is your fire.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I can’t say I am. But if I let myself go…” He stumbles on his words. “I just might.” 

Time has stopped. You can barely breathe.

You feel the sting of shame.

The delightful warmth of Chan’s confession.

You’ve been so blind.   

“You just mean so much to me,” he says, his voice both low and soft. “I just want you to be happy. I just want you to be loved as you should be loved.” 

When you open your eyes, it feels like he’s sitting closer to you although he hasn’t moved. He’s not touching you, but his smell overwhelms your senses. You can’t look away, and he watches you back.

“How I wish I could,” he breathes, his eyes drilling into yours. “Fall into you. Show you how you could be loved. ” 

You drink his words like they’re the essence of life. You feel, in each one, a wish, a hope, a possibility. Ropes that were drawn and never knotted together. Lifelines, waiting to be grasped. 

“I never was,” you breathe. 

He frowns. “What?”

“Over you,” you explain. “I never was over you. I’m not.” 

He closes his eyes. 

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t tell me that.”

“It’s true,” you say, voice trembling. “I loved San, of course I did. But you were always in my heart and you will never not be.” 

Chan’s eyes drip down your eyes to your lips. You feel an ache inside your chest. It’s like it’s starting to rain indoors. What an odd feeling. 

“You don’t love him anymore?” he asks carefully, weighing every word.

“No.” 

Your voice comes in a whisper, but it’s full of certainty. 

“But Chan, I…” You swallow. “I can’t - I can’t listen to what my heart says about you, it’s not fair, you’re not… You’re not a stand-in, you’re not - you’re more important than that, and…” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

The question catches you off guard. 

“Just once,” Chan smiles. “I want to taste your lips. Just once.” 

What could you say to that? How many times did you dream about Chan’s lips on yours, wondering what they felt like? Were his kisses kind, delicate, hungry? You’d see him drink whiskey and wonder if the taste would linger on them. You’d see him kiss another girl and picture yourself in her place. 

And now he was offering you a kiss.

Hell, he wanted to kiss you. 

So you find yourself nodding, and Chan takes a long look at you, as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind. You remain immobile, lips parted, awaiting his. Slowly, he plucks them, grazing them against his - and they sink into yours, soft, like a cloud, deep, like the ocean. 

You collapse in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. He slides his fingers through your hair, his other hand embracing your waist to pull you closer. You can’t hold back a sigh from escaping your lips, and Chan responds by kissing you deeper, the movements of his lips getting almost feverish. 

“Chan,” you moan when you gasp for breath.

“Fuck, I can’t stop,” he growls, placing small kisses on your lips.

His fingers dig in your skin, and you desperately want to disappear against him, so you move your leg so you can straddle him. Chan wraps himself around you, and you feel the dampness of his clothes but you don’t care. You take his face in your hands, plunging back into a needy kiss. Chan’s hands wander on your back, on your hips, on the back of your neck. You can only lean into him. His tongue teases your lips and you open your mouth to let it in. It plays with yours, and you can feel walls tighten. 

By now you are fully making out, your hips grinding against his. You can feel him getting hard, and it sends your mind reeling. 

“God, you’re so perfect,” he moans around your lips.

“I’ve thought about this so often, Chan,” you admit.

“Same,” he grins. “I… Fuck, I can’t tell you this.” 

“Tell me,” you insist, trailing kisses alongside his jaw, on the delicate skin of his neck. It makes him shudder, and can almost feel his cock pulsating under you. 

“I thought about your lips,” he breathes out. “Your body. How you would sound moaning against me…” 

“Fuck, Channie…” 

You clench at his words, pressing your core on his erection. He grunts, his fingers slowly making their way under your shirt. You tug at his, and suddenly, like a flash of lightning, you realize what you are doing. Your heart skips a beat, and your mouth dries. Everything rushes back. You stop, and he does the same, leaning back. 

He looks more attractive than ever with his hair tousled by your fingers, his full lips red and wet from your kisses. 

“I’m sorry, I just -” 

“Is this going too fast?” he asks you gently. 

You hesitate. “It’s not that. I just - I don’t want to give the wrong impression.” 

Chan frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like you’re just a rebound or something,” you shrug.

Chan smiles - that cheeky grin of his, his eyes sparkling at the same time. It toys with your heartstrings. How could anyone not adore this man? 

“I don’t care,” he answers. “I’ll be your rebound.” 

“Chan, I’m serious,” you sigh.

“So am I,” he says, twirling a strand of your hair around his index. “If it’s something you want, then I’m here. I want to. And it doesn’t have to mean anything tomorrow, or ever. We’ll always be friends.” 

You breathe out, briefly closing your eyes. All you want is to keep kissing him, to forget the world in his arms. To be desired, to be loved. 

It’s all you want.

But your heart still aches.

So much has happened tonight - you feel so heavy. 

You sigh again. “I just… Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Chan cups your cheek. 

“It’s okay, love,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It’s all so fresh. I can leave if you -” 

“No,” you quickly interrupt him, pushing a finger against his plush lips. “Please. Stay with me.” 

Chan nods, his eyes not leaving yours. You should move. You should get going - get a glass of water, sleep it all off. But you can’t move, lost in Chan’s gaze, your body a bundle of nerves. You lean forward, settling your forehead against his. 

“It’s killing me,” you chuckle nervously. 

Chan giggles, and the sound is delightful. “We have time, love. I won’t let you go, now. I got you.” 

He places a soft kiss on your lips.

“If you’ll have me.” 

As an answer, you give him another kiss. You slide your fingers through his humid hair, inhaling his scent. 

“Will you sleep here tonight?” 

“I’m here, baby.” 

The word makes something melt inside of you. You shiver, and instinctively, he sprawls his warm hands on your back. 

You’re overwhelmed by the tenderness and the hurt. 

You feel so loved. 

So abandoned.

So alone.

So supported.  

So seen. 

Your lips find him again like a magnet. You kiss him deeper than before. You’re losing your mind. 

“Y/N,” he breathes in your mouth.

The words escape your lips. “Fuck it, I want you.” 

He groans, his fingers diving in your skin. His cock twitches under you, making you lose all sense. 

“I want this, Chan,” you sigh, biting his lip. “But I don’t - I don’t want you to think I’m using you, all right? You’re my friend, I care about you, I -” 

He laughs. “You can use me all you want.” 

He starts kissing you again, feverishly, as if it hasn’t just been a few seconds since he last did it. You arch your back, closing all distance between your bodies. Chan starts placing kisses down your neck, his tongue teasing your thin skin. 

“I’ll make you feel good, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’ll make you forget for a little while. Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s just you and me tonight. Let the rest fade away.” 

He puts his strong hands on your ass, and slowly moves it. You sway your hips, and the friction of his erection against you makes you moan softly. You plunge your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his shoulder blades. 

“Just you and me, yeah?” he whispers.

“Just you and me,” you nod. 

In a swift move he removes your shirt, groaning at the sight of your bralette. It’s made of a thin lacy material, so he can perfectly see your nipples, and immediately leans in to brush his lips against them. You shudder, your nails digging in the back of his neck. 

He removes your bra to gain access to your breasts, gently massaging them in his hands and sliding his tongue around them. Meanwhile, you caress his cock above his jeans, loving the way he tenses at your touch. 

“Hold on to me,” he tells you in a breath.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you up, only to gently lay you down on the couch so he’s on top of you. 

“Let me see you,” you breathe, grabbing his t-shirt. 

He obliges, removing the piece of clothing so you revel in the sight of his toned chest. You take off your sweatpants and stare as he removes his jeans as well, giving you a better sight of his athletic body. His boxers do nothing to hide his erection.

“Before this goes any further,” he says, and his voice sounds so raw it sends shivers down your spine. “Do you have -” 

“Bathroom,” you say with a nod. 

He smiles, bends to steal a kiss and disappears. You look up at the ceiling, suddenly very aware of your nakedness, of what you are about to do. 

It feels like you’ve been through ten days in one. 

This morning you woke up with dread. 

Now you are filled with hope. 

Is this going too fast? Should you wait? 

Maybe. 

You don’t want to. 

This feeling in your chest, that Chan helps surge, that threatens to burst - all this light, all this love. It’s been a while since you’ve felt that. From someone else, from yourself. 

So what if it’s too fast? You want to live. 

And if there’s a person you trust, it’s Chan. 

“Got it,” you hear him say as he reappears. 

You don’t really know what to say because you have all this love and light inside your chest and words would not feel enough, so you stay silent, only pull him back into a kiss. He lays on top of you, warm and a little unsteady. You can feel he’s a little nervous, just like you, but you don’t mind. You need his softness. You need his realness. 

You push his boxers down, feeling his cock touch your stomach. The sensation is enough to clear your mind, and you bite Chan’s lower lip a little. He answers with a slight chuckle. 

You want to tell him how crazy he makes you. How nice it is to feel him so warm and hard. How much this means to you. But for some reason, you can bring yourself to say anything, and neither does he. You just breathe together, febrile and eager. His fingers graze your wetness, and you shiver. Sensing your pleasure, Chan applies some pressure on your folds, leaning two fingers on your clit. You arch your back, moaning a little louder than you expected. Your hands reach for him, palming his cock, your own fingers brushing his tip. 

“Fuck,” Chan grunts. “Y/N…” 

“Channie, please,” you whisper. 

“Wait,” he answers. “I want to do something first, if this is my only chance.” 

You frown, opening your eyes as you feel him move. You quickly understand what he means, however, as his lips trace a path of wet kisses on your stomach and your thighs. Soon his breath is against your core, and you forget how to breathe. 

When his tongue touches you, it’s like a hundred sensations at once, and you can’t hold back a shaky moan. Your fingers grab the couch as Chan pushes your legs further apart. He kisses you, pressing his tongue into you, attentive to your reactions. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know?” he says, although you barely hear him. “Keep moaning for me, baby girl.” 

A surge of pleasure goes through your body, enveloping you in silk, and you grab Chan’s hair, instinctively pushing him against your clit as his tongue encloses it. 

“Fuck, fuck, Chan, I’m…” you whimper.

“Are you coming?” 

You nod, and he buries his nose in you, embracing your sensitive spots. Your orgasm makes your whole body tremble against him, and he holds your legs as you do, making sure to accompany you throughout. 

As you come down, slowly, you blink back into reality. You look at him a little timidly, realizing your fingers are still tangled in his hair. You place your palm against his head, caressing it tenderly.  

“I’m so sorry,” you mutter. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Not at all,” he chuckles. “It was beautiful.” 

You bite your lip and he moves so he can kiss you. Your taste is on his lips and his tongue and it’s making you a little dizzy. 

It’s been a while since you’ve felt as good as this. 

Not that the sex with San was bad - but it faded at the same time your love did. When you broke up you had not touched each other like that - barely kissed, even - for weeks.

Although you’re sensitive, you really want to make Chan feel good. You need him inside you, stretching you, making you whole. You align your legs so his cock falls between them, and you grind slowly. His breath hitches against your lips, and you take it as a hint he likes it. 

“You made me feel so good, Channie,” you tell him in between kisses. “I want to do the same for you.” 

“Fuck, you’re so warm,” he lets out. 

“I want you inside me,” you say. 

He nods fervently, puts on the condom he got from the bathroom and aligns himself with your entrance. You feel so relaxed and tense at the same time, tucked in his arms on the couch, the rest of the world faded away. He enters you slowly, letting you time to adjust to his size, and you breathe out slowly. 

He feels so different. He feels so right. You are a bundle of nerves he unmakes.

He thrusts his hips at a measured, exquisite pace. Each time he goes deeper, and you cry out in pleasure, your fingers digging in the skin of his muscled back. You feel the fever, you feel the want. He breathes heavily against your neck, holding you tight. 

“You okay?” he asks in a whisper. 

“Don’t stop,” you tell him, arching a little to facilitate his movements. 

Chan doesn’t stop. As he makes love to you - because it is what he is doing - you sense his thrusts getting a little more erratic. In the quiet of the living room you hear nothing but the sound of him plunging inside you, his cock smeared by your wetness, his breathing mingling with yours. It is so erotic, so loving, your second orgasm is building quickly and deliciously. 

Chan accelerates. You pant, moaning nonsense. 

“Come with me,” he breathes, and that is the last thing you need to come undone. 

It’s enthralling how your soul escapes you and yet stays right there, against Chan, around him, with him. As you clench around his cock, you hear a delightful moan escape his throat, rough and hoarse, and it keeps you right above the clouds with him as he comes inside of you. You feel him twitch before he relaxes slowly. 

His lips find your forehead and he plants the softest of kisses there. 

As you sink into the couch, he removes himself from you, and lays down on top of your body. You don’t mind the weight - in fact, it feels just right. His nose is in your neck, his breath tickling your sweat-covered skin. Your fingers slide in his hair, and you close your eyes. 

You give yourselves time to recover. As the high fades, you feel Chan’s breathing relax and get more steady. 

“Channie,” you whisper with a smile. “Don’t fall asleep.” 

“Hm?” he groans, lifting his head to look at you. 

With his hair all over the place, his small eyes and swollen lips, he looks ready to pass out. It elicits a large smile from you, and you tenderly caress his cheek. 

“Let’s get to bed,” you tell him. 

He nods. You stand up on shaky legs, and help him on his feet. Together you close the lights in the apartment, and then you take his hand to guide him towards the bathroom. You take the time to clean up and head to the bedroom. The lights are off except for the fairy lights hanging above your bed. Once you’re there, you open a drawer, take out a t-shirt that will fit him. 

You slip under the sheets, Chan next to you. He pulls you into his arms, and you put your head on his shoulder. 

The rain has slowed to a drizzle.

Who knows what the sky will look like tomorrow? 

For now you just want to sleep against Charm’s warmth.

“Get some rest, love,” he whispers to you. 

“Goodnight, Channie.” 

“Goodnight.”

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment or reblog with a word in the tags if you can. It's truly appreciated ♡

[moonyswritinq]

Hi!! Could you possibly write a Obi Wan x Male reader (or gender neutral if you want) where Anakin and Ashoka (maybe even Rex if you want more chaos) accidentally find out about Obi Wan’s relationship with the reader? Of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to! Thanks!!

caught in the moment — obi-wan kenobi x male reader

❝ CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ You and Obi-Wan have been sneaking around for months and you're long overdue being found out. It was only a matter of time. It's only fitting it would be by the three people who knows you best and are the most obnoxious about it.

PAIRING ➢ obi-wan kenobi x male reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ secret relationship, swearing, tension, suggestive content, generally just idiocy, hints of Anakin x oc, idk kinda angsty? kissing, making out, rivalry, slight ooc Obi-Wan, a stupid Jedi council

WORD COUNT ➢ 3.2 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ thank you so much for this request! it was very fun to write. i wanna apologize for taking so long to write this though. i wrote half of it like a month ago but i've been so busy with my job and moving and now i have a little time before uni starts so i thought why not catch up on my writing. this is not my best work but i am still kind of proud. if you pay attention you will notice an original character in this fic — Emrys. He is based on one of my best friends and this will not be the last you will be seeing of him. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The view is amazing. Blue skies, as far as the eye can see, threading the edges of the city’s buildings carefully. It is full of life; blinking neon lights, aircrafts speeding between the tall buildings. You’re amidst it all, enclosed in a circular room with high windows on all sides, chairs directed to the middle. You’re sat in one of those chairs, figures at your sides clad in the same robes as you are.

Your attention is to the middle, where a tall woman is stood, back straight, arms at her sides. She doesn’t look faced by being in a room surrounded by Jedi. Instead, her gaze is steady as she meets every one of your eyes, and her voice clear.

“Word has been sent from the Kamparas system, the Separatists is apparently closing in on their bases. Without help, they will have fallen before the end of the week.”

You tilt your head, leaning against the palm of your hand. That really was an issue. Kamparas held a lot of support for the Jedi and everything against the Separatist forces was precious. Their technology had also proved to been an asset in the past. In your opinion, there was no question in the matter, but others seems to have different opinions. 

“I say we fight, send troops down ‘ere. Crush the Separatist bastards,”  Master Kit Fisto, a green-skinned Nautolan, exclaims, slamming his fist into the chair.

Master Agen Kolar shakes his head. “It’s too risky. We send troops down there and our people will be spread thin, too vulnerable to the Separatist.”

“A decision difficult, it is,”  Master Yoda, a small creature with green, wrinkly skin, says with his usual inquisitive tone. Your eyes widen in disbelief. A difficult decision, really?

“We’re talking about whether to let hundreds of our people die, not what you are having for supper this evening.” You can’t keep your anger from your voice, disbelief written across your features. “There’s no decision to be made; we have to help them.” 

Your eyes search the other members’, trying desperately to find anyone in your favour. Your eyes catches on a pair of blue ones — ones belonging to none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. He’s sitting with one leg on the opposite knee, hair perfectly laying against his head and gaze steady on you. He says nothing but a subtle nod of his head in your support, something that manages to warm your cheeks.

“It is difficult,”  Master Stass Allie says, “We are deciding the fate of thousands of lives here.” You opened your mouth to respond but she cut you off. “It is not simply about the lives on Kamparas. It is the lives of the whole galaxy. What we do affects everyone, y/l/n. We have to decide if it’s worth it.”

You let out a humourless laugh. Are they serious? 

“The Jedi swore to protect the galaxy. That includes every single life on Kamparas. We do not get to pick and choose whose lives are deemed to be worth it.” You can feel your pulse quicken in your ears, surprised that the other Jedi cannot hear it. “We do not just abandon our people in difficult times. That would make us no better than the Sith.”

Master Allie grits her teeth, opening her mouth to counter you but stop herself when Master Yoda lifts a three-fingered hand. 

“An interesting argument you make, Master y/l/n. Help, we will.”

You sigh in relief, relaxing against your chair. However peaceful the Council says they are, it is surprisingly difficult deciding on something. 

“Clone troopers on a spacecraft we will send, accompanied by a Jedi Master,” he continues, directing the information to the messenger still stood in the middle of the room. She nods, immediately turning to walk out.

“That is not enough,” you object, straightening in your chair. “They need more help than that!”

“Master y/l/n!” Master Mace Windu interrupts, holding your gaze steadily. “We have sent the help we can. Any more and we will jeopardise the other systems that are in need of our help. We cannot help everyone at once.”

You grit your teeth, muttering, “Fine.” 

Without waiting for the meeting to come to a conclusion, you stand up and rush out of the doors, letting them slam shut behind you. You feel winded, as if you have just run a hundred miles, your pulse throbbing in your ears. You lean against the closest wall and close your eyes, letting the coolness calm you down.

“That bad, huh?” 

You crack an eye open, watching as your Padawan, Emrys, steps closer. You let out a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. “When isn’t it?”

“Well, there was that one time—”

The doors to the chamber open, Obi-Wan’s long strides echoing against the floor, his cloak billowing behind him. He stops short when his eyes land on your apprentice, looking between the two of you.

You push yourself against the wall. “Emrys—”

“No need, Master. I was just about to leave. It’s getting late.” His gaze jumps between you and Kenobi, eyes narrowing slightly. You wish you could read the expression on his face. “Kenobi, you don’t happen to know where Anakin is? Or you know what? I’ll find him myself. I’ll, er— see you later, Masters.” 

Your gaze follows his retreating form, before finally turning towards Obi-Wan. “How can they deny the aid for help? I swear, they are all selfish bastards.” 

Obi-Wan catches your attention with your name softly falling from his lips. “I know how hard this is for you, it is for me too. But we cannot let our feelings get in the way. You know we cannot help everyone.”

“I know. It’s just—“

Your words trail off, your gaze instantly softening at his expression, stepping closer as his hands reach for your face. You have the sudden urge to fall against him, to let him bear your weight. You almost let yourself. The sound of echoing footsteps further down the hall make the two of you freeze, just now realising how exposed you are.

“Not here,” you mutter, turning to walk down the opposite corridor. He follows at your side, matching your strides, expression indifferent, almost bored. You would be impressed were it not for the shallow breaths he’s releasing..

You take a sharp turn, taking ahold of Obi-Wan’s hand in the process, dragging him against you into the empty chamber. As soon as the door closes behind the two of you, you allow yourself to sag against him. His arms circle your back, pressing you even closer to him. 

You let him. Just this once, you tell yourself. 

You’ve told yourself that for months now.

It first started with a kiss, a spur in the moment sort of thing. You had been sparring together, head to head, a lightsaber each at hand. You were both equals, meeting the other with every attack made. Every move countered. Every comment with a quick retort. It amused you to see how much you could step on Obi-Wan’s toes.

He had been cold the past few weeks, icing you out. He had been distant. You knew he had been avoiding you, even though he tried to deny it. What you didn't know was why. Why did he avoid you like the plague? It doesn’t matter, you had decided. What did matter was getting him back for it. The only way you knew how, that is.

“Come on, Obi-Wan, you can be quicker than that,” you teased, bringing your lightsaber to meet his with a nonchalant swing of your wrist. He gives you a roguish grin, forcing you backwards. With a jerk of his chin your legs give out underneath you, sending you sprawling to the floor.

Obi-Wan walks into your line of sight, his lightsaber pointer at your neck. “Quick enough for you?”

You chuckle. Your foot makes contact with Obi-Wan’s legs, kicking them from underneath him. He tumbles to the ground, dropping his lightsaber and begin rolling to a crouch. You’re quicker. You move to grab your dropped lightsaber, throwing yourself against him, pinning him to the ground. His eyes widen, painfully aware of your touch against him. He tries to rip free from your grip, but you don’t budge.

You grin, leaning closer. “Not quick enough, apparently.”

“Get off,” he pants in that perfect accent of his, chest heaving from the exertion. You take notice of his messed up hair, blue eyes glaring into yours. You have the urge to lean closer but restrain yourself, instead removing your knees from either side of him and standing up. You offer him a hand, one of which he takes gratefully.

“You have improved a lot since last time,” Obi-Wan says as he brushes off the dirt on his robes.

You smile, a genuine one this time. “You as well. Who knew there really were muscles underneath all that clothing?”

He lets out a huff of a laugh, meeting your gaze with that special twinkle in his eye. He steps forward, one hand clutching yours and bringing you closer. You clasp a hand on his shoulder, smiling. 

The sun’s setting, casting deep shadows around the two of you. It makes Obi-Wan’s hair appear golden in the light, the contours of his face highlighted on all the right places. Something shifts. You don’t know what it is, but suddenly the air seems warmer, your breaths coming in shallow. You meet Obi-Wan’s gaze and there it is. 

His pupils dilated, his breath hitched and his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. You’re too stunned to move. He tentatively reaches a hand for your cheek, hesitating when you make no move. When he begins to draw back you finally come to your bearings, grabbing the front of his robes and tugging on them. You meet him halfway, your lips finally pressing against his.

The kiss was hurried, both of you chasing to release the tension from training. You let all of your pent-up frustration, uncertainty and rage bleed into the kiss, letting Obi-Wan know exactly how you felt. He gasped into the kiss, allowing you to deepen it. You bit his lip lightly and it took all he had to not moan against you.

You hadn’t realised how much you needed this. Needed him. Obi-Wan knew, had tried to suppress it too, but to no avail.  He knew what it meant for a Jedi to indulge in these sorts of things. Now it was too late for regrets.

You had promised yourself that it was only one time, that it wouldn’t happen again. Unfortunately, one time turned into ten times, which turned into fifty times. You couldn’t resist Obi-Wan’s soft lips on yours. The way he throws his head back when your lips meet his neck, biting at that sensitive spot. His beard scratching your skin. His hands roaming your back and shoulders.

Hands currently clutching your robes, chin resting against your shoulder. Obi-Wan knows that you just need some time to let your rage settle and, while you may not admit it, he knows you feel better with him around. Your relationship had been one existing of trial and error, trying to figure out what works for the both of you and coming to terms with the fact that you’re very much breaking the Jedi Code. The two of you had not escaped the suppressing of feelings, hesitancy and fear completely yet, despite the long way you’d already come. 

However, right now, nothing felt better than to be pressed against Obi-Wan’s warm chest, feeling his heart thud against it. A steady beat against the turmoil that are your thoughts. You sigh into the embrace,  Obi-Wan pulling away just far enough to have a proper look at your face.

“You’re going to be alright,” he whispers. You smile at his words, an unwelcome warmth spreading in your gut. An instant later, his expression shifts. “You looked pretty hot in there.”

Your smile grows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like seeing you get all riled up.”

You feel your cheeks begin to warm, shifting your gaze between his eyes and lips. You beckon him closer. “Maybe we will have to do something about that, then.”

Obi-Wan brings his lips to yours, not withstanding another moment without the feel of you. You groan into him, welcoming the touch. It’s not a tender kiss, nor a rough one. It’s one full of tension and unspoken words, just like your first one. It seems to be what you and Obi-Wan excel most at. 

A groan of the door is what pushes you and Obi-Wan apart, terrified to have been caught together. You cannot help but expect the worst; a fellow Jedi having just witnessed your treachery, already on their way to report the falseness to the council. Or worse yet, a council’s member witnessing it themselves.

Instead, three smaller figures are standing by the doorway, the same wide eyes and agape mouths on each face.

“Told you,” your Padawan says with a smug grin, his gaze jumping between you and Obi-Wan.

“Gotta give it to you, man, I did not believe you.” Anakin, Kenobi’s former apprentice, reluctantly hands Emrys a fair amount of credits with a shake of his head. He sends Anakin a wink to which he glares back at.

Ahsoka’s eyes are almost as wide as saucers, trying and failing to smother a laugh. You try not to let your current predicament fluster you, instead rising to your full height and letting the weight of your gaze pin them to their places.

“And what exactly are the three of you doing out of your quarters at this hour?” Obi-Wan’s tone is sharp and filled with all the confidence you cannot seem to find right now. To their credit, the three of them does not back down.

Emrys crosses his arms, cocking an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same, Master.”

“This is not the time to be snarky, Emrys,” you snap, narrowing your eyes at the young man. “You may be nearing the end of your training but you are not a Jedi Knight yet — you still have to abide the rules for Padawans.”

“They may not be Knights, but I am,” says Anakin. Your gaze turns to him, as does Obi-Wan’s. “And I do not think that us being awake late is worse than what our poor eyes just witnessed. Not in the council’s eyes, at least.”

“Oh, how melodramatic you are.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes as Anakin fixes him with a glare. “Neither of you witnessed anything tonight, understood?”

“I don’t know,” Emrys says, tapping his finger to his forehead. “With how much you two like to preach about the Jedi ways I think it’d be wrong to ignore something like this. After all, doesn’t this go explicitly against the Jedi Code?”

“I agree with the idiots, you’re always saying feelings are a Jedi’s undoing,” Ahsoka chimes in, voice full of accusation.

Obi-Wan stutters, mind drawing blanks. It’s all he can do to turn his gaze to yours, question written in his eyes. “I— honestly don’t know anymore.”

“Obi, what— of course we’re in the wrong. What are you on about?” You can’t focus. All you see is Obi-Wan’s helpless eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his hands stretched out in confusion, unsure of what to do with them. 

Resolve shifts behind his gaze, his voice growing steadier. “These past few months have been the happiest time of my entire life. Now, don’t you think that says something about the Jedi Code? Tell me, y/n — tell me you don’t feel the same.”

“I—” Your cheeks begin to heat up, feeling the eyes of the entire room on you. Why is he putting you on the spot like this?

“Er, maybe we should leave.” Emrys discomfort is clear as he starts to reach for Anakin’s arm.

“No, wait,” Obi-Wan says, turning to the three youngsters. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

Anakin cocks his head to the side. “As I said, Master, it would be hard to ignore something this big. It would take a lot for me to forget.”

“A hit on the head would do the job,” you mutter.

Obi-Wan ignores you, “What do you want, Anakin?”

You dislike the smile that starts to grow on the young man’s face. “Why don’t we start with something small? Like you taking care of some of our chores and boring duties. We’ll continue from there.”

“Or,” you start, glaring at Emrys and Anakin, “we don’t tell the council about your relationship either?”

“What!?” Emrys exclaims at the same time as Anakin practically shouts, “We’re not in a relationship!”

Ahsoka turns to the two men, hands on her hips. “Am I the only one here not breaking the Jedi Code? Unbelievable, all of you!”

Emrys’ fixes you with a glare, lowering his voice to a hiss. “I can’t believe you.”

You lower your face to his level. “I can’t believe you either.” Your eyes shift to Anakin, noting how his body shifts and his gaze keep flickering back to Emrys. With a sigh, you straighten. “Now, get out of here and forget this ever happened.”

“Because that’s likely to happen. God, my poor eyes,” Ahsoka mutters. Anakin smirks at her, too smug for his own good.

“Sure, whatever you say, Master,” Emrys grins, grabbing Anakin’s arm and turning to the door. You can see him whisper something in Emrys’ ear, to which his cheeks redden. They really thought you wouldn’t notice? At least you and Obi-Wan were more subtle than that.

When you hear the door close behind the three youngsters you turn to Obi-Wan, finally meeting his gaze. 

“So—” he begins.

“So.”

“We finally got found out,” he chuckles, trying to hide his own awkwardness. “Long overdue if you ask me.”

“Did you really mean that?” you blurt out, unable to stop yourself.

“Mean what?”

“About being happy? With me.”

“Yes,” he says in a shaky exhale.

“Obi—”

“Just listen, y/n. I’ve followed the Jedi Code strictly as long as I can remember, word by word. No feelings, no attachments — all because the Code said it makes us vulnerable to the darkness. And yet, I’ve never felt stronger than in your presence.”

A slow smile spreads across your face. “Who knew you were such a cheeseball?”

His hands reach for your face, taking ahold of it. “y/n, I don’t know what you do to me but I adore you. I cannot let you go now.”

“I think that may have been what the Code is referring to.” You let out a chuckle despite yourself.

His lips press against your neck, leaving behind a trail of featherlight touches. “Forget about the Code. Just— tell me you want this. Us.”

You pull away to look him in the eyes. Those ocean blue eyes that seem to hold every secret within the universe, that glint that always tells you his mood. God, how you loved him.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, I want you.”

And there it is. The secret is out. The words are said. No more pretending it wasn’t real, that it was a one time thing. 

No point in turning back now.

[electricbluebutterflies]

something beautiful

The more I write pre-series Marc/Layla the more questions I have about the dynamic and the more I admire exactly how much Layla is implied to put up with... also they’re cute and I love quiet domestic moments, SO. PG-ish and also on ao3.

Prompt - kiss under a full moon (as always and eternally thank you @apple-grass-and-smiles)

She adapts, in her way. Reclaims what she can how she can. Tries.

There is no helpful waiting-room pamphlet on how to deal when your Person has supernatural obligations – not that Layla would read it even if there were, but it would be nice to at least glance at the cover and know that for once in her little life she is not as alone as she feels. That’s the thing of it, really. There has never been an easy place for her, never a narrative she fits, never other people who get her, never anything more than acquaintances that balance on a sharp edge, and then she goes and lets herself get tangled up with someone and… of course there’s a catch, because it’s her, because she’s pretty sure she can’t have nice things and-

In the grand scheme of things, she reminds herself, this is all both weird as hell and not anything worth ruining a relationship over. Maybe, someday, she will get over the fantastically bad timing under which she found out – it has been over a year now, and more time will pass, and her frustration will fade. Someday it will be alright. Right now it is not, and right now she is still trying.

She wonders sometimes how other people do it – she can’t help but see the news stories every once in a while and wonder if the bodies in fancy suits and armor have anyone back home waiting and worrying for them. What must it be like to do this on a larger scale, to have the whole world aware of what your lover can do? At least her own situation is quiet enough, at least it’s more likely she herself will end up in the eye for something gone wrong and oh isn’t that a frightening thought sometimes, at least-

She feels so alone right now, standing on the fire escape of this apartment that is not quite home yet but will hopefully become something like it if she ever feels able to put down roots, if they both get there, if-

She hears the door behind her and turns her head and oh this is the part she never prepared for back when she thought the loneliness would take a different form, the familiarity of having someone else around and wanting them there. The vulnerability of a heart in human form, snatching days at a time when they can, when their respective lives are both quiet and how rare that is and how hard they have to fight for it and-

“You’ve been out here a bit.”

She has, perhaps. It’s a comfortable night and a decent view and maybe the last of either of those she’ll get for a while, she’s been waiting a few days for a phone call that will send her off again and-

“I’m okay,” she says, because she has to be, because she can never be the difficult one. She has never had that chance, really, and she will not start now, she will not complicate their balance, she will not-

Instead of words Marc drifts closer and reaches for her hand and for a moment, for one precious heartbeat of a moment she can almost forget how rare these moments even are. They are comfortable in quiet – this is what she gets for falling in love with a man who hides his heart, she thinks, this love that is expressed not with words but with presence, with the unspoken understanding that this is where they both want to be right now. Together, safe, outside world at bay and respective phones left inside and right now no idea how long anything lasts and-

She reclaims what she can, she reminds herself as her husband’s fingers trace the symbols on her bracelet. There are probably a few different ways of handling their delicate situation and Layla has somehow chosen all of them, directing her anger where it belongs and not at her partner and trying to turn as much of this as she can into something beautiful. She can carry as much of that weight as he’ll let her, as little as that is, and find what she can in it, and-

Moon phases on her wrists in delicate cheap mystery metal, beautiful full moon above, there is no easy narrative for this side of her life and she will make her own.

She turns her head and takes a kiss and it’s one of the most cliché things she’s ever done she’s pretty sure, and maybe it’s a little desperate and maybe she doesn’t care and-

This is the part she likes, when she can feel her husband smiling against her skin and her eyes are closed and she remembers that she chose him because he made her feel safe and he still does despite everything she now knows and she wonders if those other people out there waiting up at home for other people doing big brave things have any idea what this part feels like.

“I’m okay,” she says again as quiet as she can, and she really does mean it. “Just want quiet while I can get it.”

“Tomorrow, huh?”

“Hopefully. If nothing else falls through.”

Best-case scenario, they won’t see each other for a month; more likely, if he takes some contract while she’s gone and she knows he probably will, it could be more like six. Technology is a beautiful thing and distance is survivable, but there is a part of her fragile heart that hates this and why couldn’t she have fallen for some nice boy with a stable normal life and-

Right. Because she herself doesn’t know how to do stable and normal, and… it’s easier this way. Somehow, complicated as it is, this is still easier.

Layla takes another kiss, and above all else and as much as she wishes things were different this is still what she wants. Always, always what she wants.

“Wake me up first?”

“Of course.”

[pure-kirarin]

Kiku / Denjiro x f!reader - Lazy mornings~

A/N : heyaa- ! second request done aaand honestly it’s my first time writing for these characters and I’m kinda living for it haha. It’s cute and adorable. So much fluff ugh @lazybutsmexy​ thanks for requesting ! enjoy :3

KIKU

She always wakes up before you, even though she falls asleep after you. It’s definitely a mystery...Does she even sleep or does she pretend ? Is she even human ?

You wake up to her soft humming voice in the bathroom. She will be putting on make up and preparing herself already. Definitely a morning person.

Yet, still wearing her long kimono robe. 

When you wake up, she slides back under the sheets just to cuddle with you and wake you up with a kiss. On your forehead, and cheeks. Her hair would be tickling your face gently, easing you into waking up.

She doesn’t want to be too abrupt with you. 

Morning Kiku is extremely snuggly. Waking up to her gentle smile makes you feel ready to face anything in life, knowing that at night, you will be sharing your bed with her. 

“Good morning my angel, how did you sleep ?” - you open your eyes, still half asleep and you are met with the blue infinity of hers. You can’t help but burry your head into the crease of her neck. She always makes sure to ask you how you slept, every single morning. 

And then, she snuggles with you, sometimes for half an hour, in bed, while caressing your hair. 

Whenever you are too lazy to get out of bed, Kiku loves to offer her help in picking your outfit and doing your makeup or hair. 

She absolutely loves to do matching makeup or outfits. It could be a kimono with similar colors, or matching shades. She won’t say it openly to you, but it’s noticeable to everyone. 

She is also the type to bring you morning tea in bed. She absolutely loves to pamper you. Especially on the week-ends. 

You are her precious princess after all~

DENJIRO

Only you get to see him -a samurai- in that vulnerable state ; lazy mornings. He is just so soft whenever he wakes up. He is in that state between dream and reality and he just wants to enjoy those few moments of peace for longer. 

He isn’t necessarly a morning person, however, when he is still in bed, he wants to have you there with him till he wakes up entierly.

You can’t go out of bed, no, what if he needs to squeeze you, to feel your presence beside him ? You need to be there. Because you are the only one that is allowed to sleep next to him. 

That privilege doesn’t come without a cost ; you are his personal pillow. He adores your soft, feminine figure, so different from his. 

He loves how small you are compared to his three meters frame, how perfect you fit into his arms, like a doll or a stuffed toy. 

“No, don’t go away, stay a bit longer, (Y/N) You can’t go away now, it’s still so early--” His sleepy voice is something else. A bit lower and sensual. 

The only way to have him out of bed is to take a shower together. 

These moments he gets to spend with you are sacred. They set the tone for the day. It’s what keeps him going, what keeps him motivated to go on with his duties. Your soft embrace feels like the safe space where he can just be his true self. The only place that feels real, that feels like home. 

He is really open with his emotions when he first wakes up, so expect to get a lot of compliments. “You feel so good in my arms--” or just about how soft your hair, or skin, or any part of your body feels.

Morning sex is also another option