#that I didn't feel comfortable in there anymore

[crechi]

i stare at the illustration, panicking for half a second. stress wells up in my throat, but i run my hand through my hair and sigh. i'm not the one bleeding out. i have no time to stagnate in my own inconsequential sympathy.

i crouch down, then turn the paper around to show you. ｢you've died.. either for information or satire.｣

i watch as you quickly process the grief of realizing your days were probably spent delivering letters of similar importance, tears beginning to slide down your face.

｢oh.. th-thank you.. sir.｣ you croak, dejected.

i sigh, then click my tongue to regain your attention. i smile softly; as best as i can manage watching a sad, defeated child die. ｢is a noble task.. delivering letters like this, to help someone learn.｣ you look up at me, listening intently. ｢you've probably delivered hundred of letters, right?｣ you nod.

｢then you've likely helped many people.. you've spread knowledge and made it possible for others to study, so that they may perfect their crafts. is a very honorable assignment..｣

you stare at me, your expression flooded with hope tinged with desperation. ｢really..?｣

i shrug, attempting to steal my nerves over the devostating scene. ｢in my eyes, certainly.｣

you think for a moment, looking down at the grass. you smile. ｢thank you.. a-again, mis-ster.｣

i nod, my face expressionless as my emotions whirl inside me. ｢of course, lad.｣ i don't appreciate my own voice's steadiness compared to your frail, stuttering one; the strength in it had never felt undeserved until now.

i reach out to your arm, hovering my hand over it. ｢may i touch you?｣ i ask. once you give me the okay, i carefully pick you up and hold you on my lap. i let you rest on my chest, hoping my hug to be comforting despite me being a stranger.

you don't reply, likely not having the strength to anymore, but i can feel as your once prominent tremors fizzle out, and you relax.

while your blood soaks into my shirt, i seethe. you spent your entire life wishing to be useful, to be told that you were worth it, and it's only at the end, by the word of a stranger and under happenstance, that you are given it.

your superiors didn't care about you. physically and emotionally, they left you to suffer.

you shift, weakly raising your head, and distracting me from my thoughts. your body, entirely limp as you're moments away from erasure. you can't manage a smile, unable to focus enough to move your face, you weakly whisper your third ｢thank you｣. i hold back the despair coursing through my body, and nod. ｢you're welcome, dear.｣

your nerves go dim and silent, and the blood in your veins stills. i sit there in the grass, crying in grief for a child whose name i don't know; and for all the children left to suffer, whose names i'll never know.

the people who did this to you will suffer, ten times the amount that you have. they will know the hopelessness and existential insignificance that i tried to save you from.

𝀺''𐤙 ⦂ ▍▊⃢" wasn't mentally stable at the time of writing this [moreso than.normal]. it's not.too obvious, is it?

If i was a sickly little peasant boy designated by the aristocracy to carry messages back and forth for pennies and you found me against our citys outer wall with a deep wound in my chest from a musket ball and a letter cluthed in my hand and i told you that my dying wish was to have someone read that letter to me so i would know i died for something important and you open it up and you find a single large illustrated diagram of an onion would you tell me what it was? What would you say?

[cherbii]

FRIENDS | modern!dealer! Ryomen Sukuna

summary ➜ your plug has been a lot nicer to you, and by a lot, he has you bent over sideways in his car, but you swear you two are strictly friends.

warnings ➜ language, weed use, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, high sex, car sex, choking, titty slapping (sue me), gagging, riding, spanking. mdni

You had bought weed from Sukuna a few times, and each he’d charge you less and less until you didn't have to pay anymore, something Sukuna never does.

You'd taken this as a sign that your presence was somewhat welcomed around his, so at a frat house dorm party, you see him in the corner, a bored look in his eye and a blunt dangling from his lips while he's surround by his friends, Geto, Gojo and Choso, all four looking like guard dogs, but really, they're waiting for customers.

You told your best friend, Shoko, that you're off to the bathroom when really, you just wanted to see your favourite (only) drug dealer. So with the swing of the hips, you strut towards him.

His dark, crimson gaze catches your movement and trails your body as you sway towards his group of boys, his eyes lingering on your hips for a brief moment before his eyes flick back to your own, his lips twitching up into a slight smirk as he watched you approach.

The three other boys turn to look at you too, clearly curious as to what you were going to do. "What do you want?" Sukuna asks, his voice gruff and deep as he takes the blunt from between his lips, his eyes roaming your body for a moment longer before he looks up to fix his gaze on yours once more. His friends stay silent, watching the interaction between yourself and Sukuna with curious gazes.

"Can't a friend say ‘hi', 'Kuna?" You tilt your head to the side while your fingers reach out to his chest, manicured nails tracing along his hard chest under the thin cotton of his shirt until they reached the blunt, before you plucked it out from his lips.

He gives you a slight look of faux annoyance, but can't help the smirk that appears on his face at your forwardness.

Sukuna’s friends all smirk, Gojo leaning in to whisper something in Choso's ear before looking back at you and Sukuna. Geto just looks bored, his eyes lazily scanning over the two of you.

You take a long inhale of the blunt before shifting your weight to the other foot. "You never introduced me to your friends, asshole."

His smirk deepens slightly, and he gives a small sigh. "They're a bunch of pussies. You don't 'need' to know them." He says, his voice low as he leans in a little closer, his breath tickling the skin of your exposed neck.

His friends give a small gasp, and Gojo rolls his eyes. "Rude much?" He says, his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, why don't you introduce us to your girlfriend?" A corner of Geto's lips tugged up, even under the vibrant pink and red flashing lights, you could see the piercing violet of his eyes.

A muscle twitches in Sukuna's jaw, and he turns his dark gaze to Geto. "She's not my girlfriend.” He says, his voice icy as his gaze fixes back to you, his eyes trailing down your body lazily.

The three other boys all smirk at his comment, and Gojo leans in a little closer. "You sure about that?" He asks, a hint of mockery in his tone.

You roll your eyes. "We aren't dating."

"See?" Sukuna quips, his lips curling into a smirk. "I told you."

"We are just friends. It's been nothing more and won't be anything less." You shot back, all while leaning more into Sukuna, and bringing the blunt back to your lips.

You said this, yet your mind couldn't help but go to the situation you were in just the other day, pressed up against Sukuna, on his lap in the backseat of his car while you two shared a blunt.

As the music in the car began to fill the air, he leant back comfortably in his seat. He could feel the warmth of your body against his, your scent filling his senses and making his head feel fuzzy for a moment.

He reached over and takes a long drag from the blunt, the smoke filling the car and making the air around your both hazy. His free hand found its way to your thigh, his thumb tracing mindless circles against the material of your skirt.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his touch, while you take the blunt from his lips and taking a hit yourself, eyes staring back at his slender, vermillion ones. The car fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, save for the soft music playing quietly through the radio.

Sukuna’s hand on your thigh started to inch further up under your skirt, fingers tracing the soft flesh of your inner thigh with the lightest touch possible, almost teasingly.

He's completely focused on the sight of you in his car, your body pressed up against his, and the way your skirt has ridden up just enough that he can feel your soft skin beneath his hand.

He leant in closer, his breath hot on your skin as he lets out a breath. "This skirt of yours is too short, doll.” He murmured, his voice low and thick with desire as his hand slowly moved up your thigh further.

You grin, it's lazy and loopy. "No, I don't think it's short enough, 'Kuna."

A smirk quirks at the corner of his lips, and he let out a low rumble of amusement at your words. His hand moves higher and higher up your thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"Oh really?" His breath hot against your skin as he speaks, sending a shiver of desire down your spine.

You nod. "Yeah, I think it should be this short." You tell him, while grabbing the fabric of your skirt and raising it until it's bunched at your waist, exposing your thin panties that's formed a neat wet patch between your legs.

His eyes darkened, his breath leaving him in a gasp as a possessive, feral look flashed in his vermilion irises. His hand that was on your thigh grips your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh there as he pulls you even closer to him.

He lets out a low growl, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, "You know damn well what you're doing, don't you?"

"No? Show me?"

A dark smirk creeps across his lips at your reply. With a quick and smooth movement, his hand slides from your hip to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

His grip on your waist tightens, holding you in place as he leans in, his lips hovering a mere breath away from yours. "You want me to show you what you do to me?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as his eyes rake over your exposed skin.

"Show me, and don't hold back." A low, feral growl rumbles in his chest, and he leans in to press a hot, possessive kiss to your neck. He kisses and nips at the skin there before he starts to trail down, his tongue laving along your pulse point as he murmurs,

"You don't have to tell me twice." His hand on your chin moves to the strap of your bra, his touch light and teasing as he begins to unhook it with practiced ease.

You groan, before plopping the blunt back between your lips, now with both hands free, you sink them into his cotton candy coloured hair. A low, appreciative hum rumbles in his chest as you thread your fingers through his hair, your touches and soft sounds of pleasure only serve to push his possessive nature further.

He pushed your bra strap down as his lips travel lower, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your exposed skin. His tongue darted out, tracing lazy patterns along the exposed flesh, his breath hot against your skin.

His tongue teased and probed until he's found the sweet spot where your neck and collarbone meets. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, his teeth just harsh enough to make your body shudder.

Sukuna’s hand, which had been on your chin, moves down, his fingers tracing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his touch light and taunting.

His lips make their way down your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake.

His free hand, which had been unbuttoning your shirt, pushes the material of the garment down your shoulders, exposing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. He pulls back for a moment, his eyes dark and darkened as he drinks in the sight of your body almost fully exposed to him.

“'Kuna, I wanna touch you too." You groan, handing him back the blunt.

A small, smug smile plays at the corners of his lips as he takes the blunt from you once more, his gaze slowly raking over your body as you speak.

"I have no objections to that," he says, his voice low and husky with desire. His eyes darkened as he looks over your near-nude state, and he takes another long drag of the joint as he murmurs, "But only if you ask nice."

A soft, needy sigh escapes your lips before you rock your hips forward, enough to have you balanced on your knees and your hands go to his shoulders. "Please can I touch you, 'Kuna? I wanna feel you."

A low growl rips from his chest as he looks down at you, his gaze dark and filled with desire. He brings his hand up to your jaw, tilting your head up as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip.

"You look so needy right now," he murmurs, his voice smooth and full of barely restrained restraint. "You want to touch me that badly, do you?"

You hurriedly nod. His smirk widened at your eagerness, and he let out a low hum of satisfaction as he lets his fingers trail down from your jaw, tracing along the column of your neck.

"Then come and touch me," he said, his voice low and rough as he leant back against the seat of the car, the blunt still in one hand as he looks at you with a heated gaze. "Show me how much you wanna touch me."

With quick, agile movements, your hand drops from his shoulders to his sweats, eagerly tugging down the waistband.

Sukuna’s breath hitched slightly in his throat at your sudden boldness, his eyes darkening as they rake over you. A low, possessive rumble rumbles in his chest, and he looks at you with a mixture of admiration and lust.

"Eager, aren't you?" He says, his voice husky and rough with want. He leans back against the car seat, the back of his head resting against the soft material, and he lets his hand rest on your shoulder, a silent invitation for you to continue.

"Shut up, don't act like you don't enjoy this." You mumbled, moving onto his boxers next before working to get those off.

A dark, almost predatory smile curled at the corner of his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you work.

"I do.” He said simply, his voice a low, rough rumble. He leaned back, his head resting against the seat as he allows you to take charge, his eyes dark and full of possessive desire as he watches you.

His hand that was on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, a silent command not to move too fast.

Your eyes would not and could not be pried off his aching cock that sprung free, the same pattern of tattoos that ran down his cheeks, chest and back also ran down the thick, veiny shaft, a aching, pink tip that weeped arousal.

Sukuna’s breath hitched slightly as you examine him, and a low, quiet noise rumbles in his chest as he lets you look.

You could almost feel the heat radiating from him in waves, his eyes dark and filled with desire. Tenderly, eagerly, lovingly, hastily, you crane your neck down and let your saliva dribble past your lips and onto his fat tip.

"Yeah, just like that." Sukuna groaned as you wrapped your hand around him and pumped in languid strokes. He watched you with eyes dropping shut as he brought the blunt to his lips, taking a large inhale before tipping his head back and letting the smoke chimney out.

You pumped and twisted your wrist, ensuring his cock was evenly lubricators before removing your hand. "Gonna ride you, 'Kuna." You told him as you leant back, about to take off your underwear when Sukuna stopped you.

"Leave them on." He told you, using his fingers to push it off to the side instead, exposing your glistening pussy, dripping out of pure want.

A whine was tugged from your lips when his thumb lifted and pushed against your pearled nub, rubbing hard circles. His painted nail got coated in your slick before he removed his hand altogether. Hastily, you say straighter and positioned yourself over his tip, letting it rub against your folds before it caught onto your hole.

Almost as eager, Sukuna thrusted his hips up, having his tip slip into you, having you groan out before allowing your weight to drop down onto him, his tattoos disappearing into your pussy, feeding you his cock. Not even waiting for the pain from the stretch subdue, you began to raise your hips, bouncing them up and down, lips falling open as your fingers dug into his shoulders.

"Yeah, like that. Show me how much you love this cock." Sukuna egged you on, greedy eyes trained on your pussy that gripped and squeezed him, ego boosting when he saw your thighs quiver from the strain it was to take him.

"I love it, makes me feel so good." You moaned, leaning back onto the backs of the front seats and swivelling your hips, switching between the circular motions and the pivot motions.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull when you felt his fingers reach out and wrap around your neck, squeezing. His other hand went around you, and squeezed at the flesh of your ass, leaving crescent shaped dents in its woke.

"I can feel you getting tired. Can't do shit properly when you're getting fucked on my dick? Stupid slut." Sukuna grinned, palm whipping your ass cheeks until his heart's content, until they were sore and tender.

"Please? Please? Please help m-me?" You managed to get out, letting Sukuna use his hand on your throat and now the other on your hip to piston you on his cock, his hips thrusting up to meet yours.

You let your one arm fall limply while the other traced around your breasts and down the expanse of your stomachs before it reached between your legs and found your aching clit, fingers swirling around to enlighten your pleasure.

"Do that, makes you squeeze around me tighter, shit," Sukuna groaned, veins popping out on his forehead as he heaved out ragged breaths. "Dumb yourself down on this dick."

Sukuna's eyes ravaged you, seeing you crumble under his touch. His cock plummeting into the funny depths of your pussy, convulsing around him, making him curse.

The blunt was discarded, now burning out on the car seat. Sukuna let his fingers unravel from your throat, and allow for them to fly in the air and land on your breasts, landing a harsh slap against your sensitive nipple. "Mm, 'Kuna. More." You blabbered, head thrown back and fingers rubbing your clit raw.

Sukuna grinned wolfishly, bringing his hand up and slapping your other breast, watching you squirm. His fingers then went to your nipple and pinched the sensitive bud, until you cried out, feeding into his primal and sadistic fantasies. He didn't give your nipple it's time to recover before he was squeezing away, groaning when you clenched down on him harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! 'Kuna 's sore!" You whined, grinding your hips onto his. You whimpered when he removed his fingers, until they were suddenly working their way past your lips, pressing against your throat and pushing your tongue down.

"Shut up, you dumb slut. Your body is just too good, it's making me want to destroy you," he bit his grin, eyes dark when he felt you squeeze him. "You like that idea? Need me to destroy you?"

You frantically nodded, breath knocked out of you when your back hit the plush seats, now having Sukuna hover over you.

His right hand gripped the seat above while the other gripping your hip, before his hips were thrusting into you, relentlessly.

The car windows steamed over with smoke and condensation. Loud moans and mewls tumbled from your babbling lips as you felt your brain become nothing short of mush, oozing out from between your legs, arousal dripping down his cock.

"W-Who knew that selling some high class princess would lead to me slutting her out in my car, h-huh?" Sukuna gloated, before a marvellous idea sprung in his mind. His fingers found the window button and pressed it, letting the glass roll down. "Gonna let everyone hear how good I'm making you feel."

His hips nearly pulled his cock all the way out of you, before it plummeted back in, leaving you to loudly moan his name.

"Yeah, tell everyone who's making you feel this good."

"You... Su...Kuna!" You moaned loudly, letting anyone and everyone hear you. "I'm—I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum! Gonna—!" A raw, loud moan ripped from the deep confines of your chest as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a brick wall.

Your nails dug into the car seat and your back arched, mouth wide open and cross eyes as Sukuna fucked you through your orgasm.

"Shit! Fuck! I'm cumming too, gonna cum deep in this pussy..." Sukuna groaned, his becoming sloppy as he spilled inside of you, filling you full of cum that began to drip out of you. "Shit, doll. Might keep you around now. Might need to make you mine."

And now you blinked up at the snowette, who peered down at you with a smirk, eyeing the hand that wrapped around your waist. "You sure? Like really sure?"

"Yep, we are strictly friends." You nodded.

"Sweet, so youre single?"

And Sukuna nearly shredded Gojo to pieces.

[embbarnes]

Roasted Chestnuts. | B.B

summary: Bucky takes to sleeping in the living room, you comfort him with hot cocoa.

warnings: Angst & Fluff | PTSD symptoms | Nightmares | Post accidental injuries

a/n: I hope this technically qualifies, even though it's sort of angsty. But there is fluff! I decided to use a few themes from the list provided and melded them together. Unedited, mistakes to be fixed later lol. ;; wc: 3.3k

Cold sweat and cold weather don't exactly mix.

Neither did the cold, wooden floor of the living room but...he insisted on it ever since he woke up choking you to near unconsciousness, his hands trembling with horror when he realized what he had done. The hardwood became his self-imposed punishment, refusing the comfort of proper bedding.

He couldn't forgive himself for that, his instability taunted him for weeks after that, having to see the bruise around your throat cause by his hand. Every morning he would catch glimpses of the purple-blue marks adorning your precious neck, each glance a reminder of how close he had come to destroying everything he held dear. The guilt ate away at him, manifesting in sleepless nights and countless apologies that could never seem to erase that moment from his memory.

He deserved it; the chill in the air making every bead of perspiration feel like tiny needles against his skin.

Especially his scars.

His shoulder hurt bad during the winter, which wasn't a huge surprise, but he would've appreciated if his body formed a bit of resistance to the cold by now.

Between endless cryofreezing, Siberian training, the prolonged exposure to freezing should have given him some sort of enhanced ability to withstand the cold but...cruelly, almost laughably, he was more vulnerable to the bite of chill now.

It pissed him off, quite frankly.

But right now, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on his annoyance.

Instead, his thoughts drifted to you as he sat there on the cold floor, his body tucked carefully against the chair that stood positioned by the stark wall. He had turned the chair into an improvised shelter of sorts, his upper body deliberately laid close beside it in a way that almost seemed to mimic having another body near him for comfort. The transition had been gradual over the course of several months, he had slowly grown accustomed to sleeping in a proper bed, and more importantly, he had grown used to having you there beside him.

Your warm, protective arms would wrap around his frame each night, and he had found himself free of any hesitation or shame as he tucked himself against your chest, letting the steady rhythm of your heartbeat become his personal lullaby, lulling him into peaceful sleep. Better than any goddamn noise machine he could dream of.

But that peace had been shattered after one particularly visceral nightmare that had resulted in him nearly choking the life from you in his sleep-addled state. He found himself unable to bear the thought of sharing a bed with you again, too terrified of what his unconscious mind might make him do.

He thought he was getting better, he was supposed to be better. The words didn't work anymore...therapy was mediocre at best but it was supposed to help him. Yet, after all of that, he still hurt you.

He's still plagued.

Frustrated with himself and the situation, he kicks the chair slightly, causing it to skid a few inches across the worn wooden floor with a harsh scraping sound. Bucky takes a deep breath, his flesh hand instinctively gripping his dog tags - those small pieces of metal that remind him of who he once was - one his own, one Steve’s.

Damnit, Steve. Why didn’t he stay?

The one man who always had his loyalty, his best friend, he felt so abandoned.

Now he had to dump his shit on you. You didn’t deserve this.

Dealing with what remained of Bucky. Dealing with his problems.

Burdening you with his issues.

All alone.

His vibranium hand nervously bundled the thin, threadbare blanket he used to sleep under. The television continued to drone on in the background, playing yet another cheesy Christmas movie that felt hollow and distant. He didn’t like these ones.

He liked the older ones.

They were simpler, easier to grasp. The fantasy of talking snowmen and flying reindeer seemed far better to lose himself in than these modern romantic tales of a cheerful woman who sings perfect carols and inevitably falls for a handsome shop owner...predictable stories that seemed to play on an endless loop.

The warm glow from the Christmas tree cast a gentle, inviting light across the sparse living room, making the empty space feel more like home. The apartment was still largely unfurnished, your current financial situation wasn’t great to say the least. Bucky's couldn’t get a job with his ‘criminal’ background, nor would anyone hire the Winter Soldier, regardless of how good he worked and how well he was with his hands. That left you as the sole provider. The weight of being the only one working pressed heavily on your shoulders, though you never complained.

You were happy to do it, if it meant Bucky could spend time relaxing and not worrying about anything.

Still, he didn’t like it.

The thought of his girl working for the both of you gave him a sour taste in his mouth, his gut tightened as he saw it as just another burden for you. A gentleman deep down, you having to work to support the two of you didn’t do anything but give him even more mental crisis.

Even when you were on the run in Romania, he found odd jobs. He brought food home. He took care of the two of you. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t think you shouldn’t be working because you were a woman, it’s just…he felt horrible. You did so much for him, and all he could do was sit at home and wait for you to come off your shifts. He felt worthless.

And despite the tight budget, you'd worked extra hours so you could afford a Christmas tree for the apartment. While Bucky had initially been indifferent to the idea of holiday decorations, his memories of past Christmases long since faded into a blur. Watching your face light up as you carefully placed each ornament made every penny worth it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the subtle creak of floorboards, and he turned to find you peering around the corner of the short hallway that led to your bedroom. "Buck Buck...what're you doin' up?" you murmured, voice thick with sleep. Your hair was charmingly disheveled, and his old henley hung loosely on your frame, the hem nearly reaching your knees. Your eyes, still heavy with sleep, blinked slowly, "I heard somethin' out here, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, doll I'm...I'm fine." He exhaled slowly, not exactly confident in his words, shoulders slumping forward as the weight of sleepless nights pressed down on him. His hand still held the dog tags, fiddling with them restlessly as his thumb pad gently traced the engraved names and numbers, a nervous habit he'd developed.

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself that?" You asked softly, sitting down beside him on the cold floor, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give him space. "Why don't you come back to bed with me? It's cold out here and that small blanket is not enough... I can see you shivering."

"No." He spat firmly, his jaw clenching with tension, "We've been over this. I'm not going to risk hurting you again. I can't...I won't let that happen."

"It was an accident-" you tried to reason, reaching out instinctively.

"NO!" Bucky snapped suddenly, his volume and tone loud enough to echo off the walls, making you flinch as it startled the sleep out of you. The fear in his own eyes matched yours for a split second.

It was silent for a few beats until finally he found the courage to break it with trembling words.

"I can't...I won't hurt you again. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face - the fear in your eyes when I came back to myself. You can downplay it all you want. The doctors told me how close I came to crushing your trachea. How am I supposed to carry on knowing what I almost did? You still have that dark bruise around your throat, oh...god..." His voice cracked and faded, heavy with anguish. The traumatic memory had carved itself deep into his psyche.

The faceless HYDRA torturers had been replaced in his nightmares, instead, visions of his own hands wrapped around your throat, watching helplessly as the life slowly drained from your eyes.

That was more horrifying than any of HYDRA's torture.

He would willingly submit himself to every cruel experiment, every brutal conditioning session, every moment of agony they had ever put him through - if it meant he could erase that one terrible moment when he had almost become your killer.

"Bucky," you interrupted his thoughts, your hand reaching out hesitantly in the dim light of the room, hovering just inches from his tensed shoulder but not yet making contact. You turned your palm slowly upward toward the ceiling, silently willing him to either take your hand or at least allow you the comfort of touching him. "I promise you, I am fine. Yes, it might've been a bit scary in the moment when it happened, and I understand why you're worried...but I know you'd never hurt me on purpose, not in a million years. It was an accident, nothing more than that."

He shifted uncomfortably under your unwavering gaze, his fingers clutching the deep green blanket even tighter to his chest, drawing it close like armor against both the cold and his own guilt. You could see the slight tremor in his frame, whether from the chilly air or his inner turmoil, you weren't sure. You knew he must be freezing out here in the living room, but if there was one thing you'd learned about Bucky, it was that he could be impossibly stubborn.

No matter how much you yearned to lead him back to the warmth of your shared bedroom, you knew he wouldn't budge an inch, wouldn't dare return to your bed, not while the belief that he might unconsciously harm you still gripped his conscience.

Instead of trying the back and forth of arguing, you decided to do something else. Rising from your spot, you made your way back to the bedroom, your bare feet making soft padding sounds against the aged wooden floorboards that creaked ever so slightly with each step. When Bucky heard you walk away, he assumed you had given up and gone back to bed for the night, so he slowly lowered himself down onto his makeshift sleeping spot, trying to find a comfortable position to attempt sleep.

But your absence was only temporary. Within moments, you had returned.

Your arms were laden with an assortment of blankets and a plush pillow, carried from your bedroom.

"No, doll..." he sat up immediately, preparing to launch into reasons why you shouldn't subject yourself to sleeping on the floor, even if it might be hypocritical. But you possessed every bit as much stubbornness as he did, and you had already made up your mind that he wouldn't have to face this night alone.

"Hush. I'm staying with you, and if that means camping out in the living room, then that's exactly what I'm going to do." You insisted firmly but gently, carefully arranging the blankets and pillow beside his spot. "And if sleep doesn't come easily tonight, then we can always put on a movie to pass the time. But I don't want you to be on your own, you've been torturing yourself for weeks now..."

Bucky looked down at his lap, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his features. "You are such a brat..." He finally replied, his lips pulling into a small, almost reluctant smile. The warmth in his chest grew steadily as he watched you, touched by how adamantly you insisted on sleeping beside him, even if it meant spending the night on the cold floor.

"That's me," you replied with a playful smirk, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Now...how about some hot chocolate? If we aren’t gonna sleep, then we might as well have a little treat. Plus, it'll warm you up." You offered, already making your way to the kitchen with determined steps, your mind set on the comforting beverage. "Marshmallows or whipped cream?" You called over your shoulder, your voice carrying a hint of amusement as you deliberately didn't give him any opportunity to decline the offer.

He shook his head slowly, running his hand over his face as an affectionate smile spread across his features, unable to hide how endeared he was by your persistence. "Marshmallows...please," he responded softly.

"And that chestnut flavoring?" You added thoughtfully, observing him still comfortably tucked away on the floor, his form relaxed against the wall. Bucky gave a shy nod, a gentle expression crossing his features, and you couldn't help but smile warmly in return. "We should roast some, I hear people do that this time of year. But I'm not sure why exactly? I haven't had the chance to try them prepared that way before."

You carefully made your way back to where he sat, extending the steaming mug of hot chocolate towards him. The ceramic vessel was filled nearly to the brim, with a generous mountain of tiny marshmallows creating a fluffy white peak on top.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders slightly, reaching up to pluck a few of the dry marshmallows from the pile, popping them into his mouth one by one. "You can eat them plain as a snack," he offered simply, savoring the sweet dissolving treats.

"Yeah, but that seems a bit too plain for chestnuts. How about…a pie? God, I love pecan pie, why not chestnut pie? Or I hear they go good with apples."

"Pie would be really good...you know how much I love your baking," Bucky smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up as he fondly recalled all the delicious sweet treats you had lovingly prepared throughout the seasons. Apple pie was one of Bucky's all time favorite desserts, and he always lit up when you made it for him. You aren’t a professional baker by any means, but the homemade pastries and treats that came from your kitchen had become one of his most treasured simple pleasures in the world.

You sat nestled against him, your shoulders touching as you both sipped hot chocolate and talked about everything and nothing. The conversation drifted from the gentle snowfall outside to potential weekend activities, from dessert recipes you wanted to try together to movies you both wanted to watch.

Bucky had changed visibly since you crept out to see him, his tense shoulders had gradually loosened, the worried lines around his eyes had softened, and genuine smiles now came more frequently. You both occasionally made playful commentary about the predictable romantic comedy playing on screen, sharing knowing looks as the plot became increasingly formulaic and harder to tolerate.

"Can't we watch something else?" Bucky asked, turning to meet your gaze with a slight grimace, "I'm getting tired of these kinds of movies...at this point, I could practically recite exactly what's going to happen next, line by line."

“What do you mean?” You laughed a little, smiling at him as he rolled his eyes in return.

“Let’s see…it’s either Noel, Carol, or some other Christmas themed name for the main girl, and she always moves back to a hometown or is divorced or lonely or just…wandering through life feeling like something’s missing. Meets a handsome guy, a handy man, a baker, someone she knew from her childhood, and they eventually fall in love after this big Christmas event happens.” Bucky muttered, “And there's always singing! That’s been the plot for the last three movies, I swear.”

"Sure," you responded with another laugh, he hit the nail on the head. You reached forward for the remote and scrolled through channels until you stumbled on one specifically for classic holiday films. "Oh my god, this one! It's from, like...1960." You watched, somewhat amused, as the distinctively vintage stop-motion animation showed Rudolph trudging through the snow, the character's movements charmingly stilted by today's standards. Your finger hovered over the remote button, ready to continue searching.

"No, no...don't change it," he interjected softly, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice, "I'd like to watch this one..."

"Really? Alright," you set the remote down and got comfy. These classic films held a special place in your heart, each frame bringing back cherished memories of curling up on the couch as a child, lost in the magic of storytelling and still believing in Santa Claus. "This used to be one of my favorites," you murmured softly, snuggling closer against him. Bucky lifted his right arm, eager to feel your heat against his bare chest. He hadn't experienced watching these movies the same as you had, his past denying him even these small comforts.

It wasn't like HYDRA allowed him a tv.

Watching it now, even without the foundation of the right nostalgia, he was drawn into the film's spell. There was something touching about its simplicity, the way it managed to weave enchantment through every scene despite its less sophisticated approach. Even with its fantastical storyline, it carried an authentic magic that resonated deep within him, something pure and genuine he could instinctively recognize. Much better than the movies he had seen all day.

The first movie seemed to float by in a comfortable haze, and before you knew it, another began to play. These old ones didn’t have a very long runtime, but you forgot just how quick they fly by. The Charlie Brown Christmas movie filled the screen with its familiar charm. The gentle orchestration of the score and soothing tone of the character’s voices set a comfortable mood in the room.

While the movie played, you felt a slight shift in weight beside you. You glanced over and noticed Bucky's empty mug resting forgotten in his lap, old white foam from melted marshmallows sticking to the rim, his features softened as his eyelids had finally drooped closed. His weight leaning more against yours, and you carefully adjusted yourself.

"Oh, Bucky..." you whispered tenderly to yourself, watching as the exhausted man finally succumbed to sleep, the warm hot chocolate having done its job exactly as you'd hoped it would. Gently, you removed the empty mug from where it rested precariously on his lap and eased him down into a more comfortable position, making sure his head was properly supported by the plush pillow beneath it. You then took your time meticulously arranging the thick blankets over his body, paying particular attention to his metal arm, ensuring it was completely covered.

The winter months were especially difficult for him, the cold made the connection points of his prosthetic ache terribly, so you made sure that every inch of the metal limb was thoroughly insulated against the chill.

Damn, you should really invest in a heated blanket…they were just so expensive.

You were determined to get one for him though.

After adjusting the television volume just a little to create a soft, ambient background noise, you settled yourself beside his sleeping form. You snuggled in close, your hand moving in slow, soothing strokes up and down the broad expanse of his back.

Even in the depths of sleep, he instinctively sought out your warmth, shifting closer until his face was buried against your chest, his arm wrapping around you in a secure embrace. Though the weight and coolness of the metal arm pressed against you was initially a bit uncomfortable since the henley rode up a bit, but you quickly adjusted. Vibranium was nice, once it warmed it would stay that way for a long time.

But the same vise versa, meaning you really should get a heated blanket soon.

For now, this would do. You'd be the heat he needed, even if it meant staying with him on the floor.

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

@buck-star 's Fluffy Winter Event.

[turretistrying]

I watched a playthrough of mouthwashing and wanted to write something, sorry if it's trash

warnings; Mentions of blood, death, etc. Canon events through the lens of the reader. jimmy. Mentions of Anya's situation, Unwanted touching

Summary; You are the effectively the homebrewed therapist of the Tulpar, you are the safe space of the ship. You experience the events of the game

On the Tulpar crew, you were considered a jack-of-all trades. You helped in any area the ship needed help in, but if your being totally honest thats not what your job entails to you.

Your job is being a safe space. Almost everyone on the ship has some type of issues during the night or problems they can only ruminate on when everyone else is asleep, and so you have decide to help on that front. Your room is the best on the ship, while it's walls and floors are the same as everyone elses room, your bed in the real star of the show. You've long since replaced the standard-issued Pony Express mattress with something softer from Earth, while some of the inspectors of the ship tried to make a stink about it you generally ignored them about it. Anothing thing about your bed is the blankets and pillows, so many of them on one twin sized bed. Originally you only had 3 blankets and 2 pillows when you started to make the bed more comfortable, but as some of the crew came in to sleep you started bringing more each time. Same thing with the pillows.

A year or two ago you started to comfort and therapize members of the crew the best you could but eventually that turned into them coming to your bed. Nothing ever happened mind you, just lying on the same bed, sometimes cuddling if the mental situation is bad enough. Anya, Daisuke, and Curly were the main crew members you helped, Swansea didn't feel comfortable being in your room so you mainly talked to him at 'night'.

The only person you were wary about was Jimmy.

Ever since you met him, he's become increasing strange to you. Something has felt off. But.. because you pride yourself on not judging anyone on the ship, you allowed him in your room for comfort. Even though it made you feel like your skin was going to be peeled off, like static was injected into your veins. It made your comforting and safe space feel decidedly not safe anymore for you. Any time he spent time within your room it made every single alarm in your head go off, making you wish you could lock the door only to keep HIM out. Especially when he decides he 'needs' cuddles, him touching you and nuzzling into your body makes you sick, it makes you feel like he's violating you. Sometimes he tries to get in when you're already helping someone else out and you revel in the fact you're able to reject him and KEEP HIM OUT. On the times he tries to get in and you're with Anya, you notice how she tenses up at his voice. She almost starts shivering (from fear? from terror? what did he do to her?) no matter how many blankets are piled onto her pale body.

She's the person who comes to you the most often and you have a feeling you know why. Even though she doesn't say anything, you're fairly sure Jimmy has hurt her in some fashiom, just from how her demeanor changes as soon as he enters a room and talks to her. She shrinks in on herself. (what did he dO TO HER?!)

Curly is almost as frequent as Anya but you can tell he probably shouldn't visit you. He's The Captain after all, he shouldn't need help and should feel the way he does. You feel bad for him most times, and while he may be friends with the monsterJimmy, him being in your room doesn't make you uncomfortable. He confides in you about his troubles and how he doesn't know what to do next, he doesn't want to be what he is forever. You understand him, maybe not at the level he feels it but you get it. You don't want to be stuck as a space therapist the rest of your life, you want to be a notable creative, or something. You're still working that dream out.

~~

It's a few months into the shipment, and Curly just dropped the news that Pony Express was going under and while all 5 of your were going to be let go from the company with no additional help, Curly would be able to get opportunities. You don't resent him honestly, knowing what he's thinking about after most days, you're just. contemplative. While yes job hunting is going to be a bit of bitch, you have savings and a good fall back if all else fails. You also understand the feelings of everyone else, their sadness, anger, confusion.

While you're cleaning a hallway waiting for someone to need you for something else you see Jimmy rush past you. He seems... startled and angry, from what you tell of a brief glance at his side profile. You shrug and go back to cleaning, you don't care about Jimmy anymore frankly. Curly comes up behind you and asks about him and you point him towards the cockpit. He leaves and you once again get back to work... Until the ship starts shaking and you hear yelling from down the hall. Before you can really process anything the whole ship jerks and you're thrown to the floor.

~~

The ship crashed. Foam covers all areas of the ship, your room was one of the lucky few that was spared from the crash. Other's weren't so lucky.

Curly is covered head to.. knee in bandages, only one eye still intact. You don't quite like going into the medical room anymore. It smells of burning and rotting flesh, mixed with the chalky smell of painkillers. But you visit at night and simply sit there with Curly, offering him a blanket. He never wants it, you assume it's because of how his 'skin' is still exposed even with the bandages and it could cause worse pain if it got stuck to it. Some nights he tries to talk, others he doesn't.

Daisuke and Anya are now the most frequent visitors of your room. They both cry, Anya more so. You don't know what to do now, you're almost.. numb to it all. Jimmy still comes by but you're grateful for Daisuke and Anya needing you, it keeps him away. But on nights no one comes by, HE does. Somehow it's gotten worse, he cuddles far too close for your liking and mumbles things into your collarbones you can't make them out but his mouth on your skin makes you want to cry. It makes everything so. much. worse.

~~

It's been months since the ship crashed and you don't leave your room anymore. You just. Can't. Everything is too much and not enough. You hope you die in your sleep.

~~

You hear commotion outside, it sounds like Daisuke and Jimmy. You slowly peel yourself off the bed, and take off the 6 blankets. Uncovered feet touch the metal flooring, you don't flinch. You stand up on shaky legs and make your way to the hallway. They're running towards Utility so you make your way over to the living room, to see whats happened since you stashed yourself away. The tv is shattered and it seems like everyone made their beds out here, mouthwash litters the floor. You turn to medical and hope to see Anya.

....

The door is locked. You give a soft knock.

"Anya..? are you-" you quickly cough, not used to talking anymore "are you okay?"

You receive silence.

"... Yeah, I'm sorry that was a stupid question. You're not okay, you haven't been for months, especially with... him here and yelling at you nearly every day." You rest your forehead on the door,

Silence.

"I'm sorry Anya."

~~

Daisuke is dead. Jimmy tried getting him into the damaged vent and it impalied the poor kid. You almost cry, you know so much about him, his hopes and dreams. But you decide to stay quiet and observe, Jimmy isn't aware you've finally left your room. Swansea looks downright murderous, after mercy killing Daisuke by cutting right into his head with the fire axe, he stares at Jimmy in a way you once wished you could. If looks could kill.

Swansea gets up and chases after him.

You hope he gets the monster.

~~

Swansea is dead too. Jimmy somehow got a gun and killed him. You watch from the shadows as he sets up the dead bodies of people you knew so, so well. A mockery of a party you were so excited for so long ago.

He brings out Curly and sets him on the table, he grabs the knife and cuts into Curly's thigh as if it's cake. You want to vomit. You want to cry. You want to do so many things but. You simple stand there.

You want to kill Jimmy. He's killed your friends, so you want to avenge them. None of them deserved this, none of them.

You go look for that axe.

~~

You found it in utility, it has weight but you can carry it well enough to take the swing at the man that's made this into hell itself. You hear footsteps coming towards the room so you make your way behind some foam. You wait.

And wait.

and wait.

You take action and run right towards Jimmy as he's about to kill himself.

He deserves pain, he doesn't deserve the easy way out.

You swing right into his arm holding the gun and it comes clean off.

Blood comes out from it in waves.

He needs to take responsibility.

You swing once more at his other arm, another clean cut.

needs to take responsibility.

Another swing.

tAKE RESPONSIBILITY.

One last swing.

RESPONSIBILITY.

he's not dead, but he looks just. like. curly.

you pick him up, his blood gushing onto you and place him in another cyropod.

he was have to face his actions, whenever that may be.

whenever someone finds him and curly.

~~

you walk to your room, one last time.

blood trailing behind you as you slowly walk.

your time is up and you'll get to end it the way you wanted to.

in bed.

you pull all your blankets onto yourself and close your eyes,

one.

last.

time.

[sagesturns]

Quiet Ache

Summary: Chris zones out thinking about old times, only to be hit with a reality check realizing he will never be able to to relive the past anymore.

Warnings: none. Angst.

Your soft giggles filled the low lit room, blending with the low hum of the movie playing on the screen. The room was comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold night, the lamp casting an orange hue in the room. Chris looked over at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you settled into the blankets, curled up beside him. You always loved just how comfortable and easy everything felt when it came to him. But the couch was a mess, covered with pillows and half-empty mugs and cozy blankets, but none of that mattered. With Chris, nothing ever really seemed to matter except his hand resting against your side, his warm touch, and the light of the TV glowing soft on his features.

"You're impossible," he teased, his voice low and playing. "How do you always laugh at the most random moments?"

You leaned in closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "It's just a funny scene. I can't help it."

Chris chuckled and the sound was low and mellow and you could feel the tension in his body melt away as he relaxed into the couch, his arm slipping around your shoulders. His touch was warm, familiar, the kind that made your heart skip a beat even after this long. You could feel his breathing, steady and soft against your hair. His presence, his scent, the way his body naturally curved into yours-it felt like home.

The movie kept going, but neither of you were really paying much more attention anymore. Every now and then, your laughter rises again, as you crack little jokes or notice silly stuff in the film. For Chris, these were the moments-quiet, without apparent effort, filled with your presence-that mattered the most.

His thumb traced light circles over your arm and for one brief moment, it was as if the world had finally set things right. In an instant, the peace found its place, then shifted just as fast. His thumb halted, his breathing slowing in a manner that grasped your attention. You raised your head slightly, looking up to him.

"Chris?" you asked softly, the slightest hint of concern in your voice. He doesn't meet your gaze straight away; his eyes stare at the screen, though it's obvious he isn't watching anymore. The distant look in his eyes matched his thoughtful expression. His thumb, which had been tracing soft circles on your arm, had stilled, and his entire posture had shifted to tense and distant, like his mind was somewhere far away.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him, waiting for him to snap out of whatever it was that had caught his attention. The silence was extended, and the unease in his body grew. It wasn't like him to zone out this way, especially at a time when you guys were so close, when you could laugh together, when you could enjoy each other.

Chris?" you called again, a little louder this time, with soft concern laced in your voice. It sounded like a faint whisper, reaching for him across a great distance, yet he showed no reaction.

"Chris!" The voice called again, this time louder, and Chris finally seemed to snap back into the present.

"Yo, what's up with you, man?" Matt asked; his voice codified concern and impatience. "You good?"

Chris rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly as if trying to shake off the fog of whatever thoughts had swept through him. It had all happened so fast, and yet the emotions that flooded him felt so much older, like ghosts from the past.

The question came as a shock to him, the sudden turn back to reality. For a, he didn't know how to respond. He had been lost in thoughts-memories of times when life was so much simpler, when things felt right and you sat on the couch next to him, listening to some silly jokes and feeling like everything in this world was in its rightful place. But that was before.

Now, sitting in the car with his brothers, it all felt like a distant dream.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Chris said quickly, his voice more clipped than usual, trying to mask whatever had just taken hold of him. He forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want them to know how far his thoughts had drifted.

Nick didn't seem convinced. "You sure?" he asked now softer. "You were, like, zoning out there. For real."

Chris's hand fisted on the seatbelt, his knuckles white. For a while, he didn't know how to answer him. He had been lost in thoughts-memories of times when life was so much simpler, when things felt right and you sat on the couch next to him, listening to some silly jokes and feeling like everything in this world was in its rightful place.

The moment held in a tight circle of awkward silence in the car, the tension palpable. Matt looked sideways at Chris, knowing that for some reason he had upset him, but didn't push. Nick shifted uncomfortably in the backseat, not knowing how to respond next.

Chris could sense the weight of their concern for him, yet it only made him feel more withdrawn. How was he to explain what was going on inside his head? How was he to put into words the heartache every time he thought about you, about the way things used to be between you two?

It has been months now. Months since everything changed. Months since the breakup. And no matter how many distractions he surrounded himself with—his brothers, work, the videos they filmed together—it would never seem to be enough. He could never forget what it felt like when you were there, how your laughter filled the room or how your touch made things feel just a little bit warmer, just a little bit easier. All he had now were pieces of his memory, scattered bits of what had once been.

Nick leaned in his seat, looking sideways at Chris. "You are sure you do not want to talk about it?" he asked, his tone softer and understanding. "You have been acting different lately.

Chris’s heart ached at the question, but he shook his head, trying to force the feelings down again. He didn’t want to burden his brothers with this—didn’t want them to see how broken he still felt.

“I said I’m fine,” he repeated, a little more forcefully this time, trying to convince himself as much as them. “Just… lost in thought, that’s all.”

Matt hummed thoughtfully, but the conversation changed course and they moved on to another subject. Chris didn't say anything for the rest of the ride, just looked out the window as the city lights whizzed by, the world outside going at a breakneck pace, yet somehow to him, time stood still. No matter how hard he tried to shake it away, his mind kept slipping back to you.

I miss you, he thought, but the words never passed his mind. They buzzed in the muffled silence of the car, in the silence of his heart-heavy, unspoken. He did not know, for one thing, how to move on, how to let go of something so right, so natural.

But it had passed, leaving him with only its pieces, jumbled like confetti in his head.

The car chugged forward, but Chris's mind remained lost in time, backward to that place when life was simpler and felt right.

And all that remained now was the quiet ache.

word count: 1.6k

tags: @sweetshuga

a/n: heyy! I got random motivation last night at 4am to write this. It's a bit choppy but hope its okay! As you can see my last 2 stories are aslo about Chris angst. Love breaking my own heart lmao. Anyways bye for now! Tysm for all the love, i appreciate and love you all!

@queenshet

[ilovedinodino]

…i was so miserable? l. hc smau

26. different (written) wc: 1515

Haechan, as usual, came to the studio first and very early. In fact, he didn't want to come today at all, because he needed to tell you what he knows, otherwise Renjun would do it, and then things would get even worse. But the main reason he didn’t want to come and see you was fear. He was scared and shy to look you in the eyes after finding out you had feelings for him. Of course, he had feelings for you too—very strong ones—but for some reason, your mutual feelings frightened him yesterday. He had been so sure that you would never like him in that way and that he would never have a chance with you. He was prepared for rejection and had accepted that you would never be together. But yesterday, you proved him wrong, and now his head was spinning with emotions. He was overwhelmed and nervous.

Every training session with you had been fun and comfortable, which surprised you. Falling for Haechan after just seven practices wasn’t something you expected. But he truly was special. Haechan was always kind to you. Even when you made mistakes, he never got upset but patiently helped and supported you. He took charge of everything, you could say that he was the leader in your duo and a very caring leader.

Haechan was different. He wasn’t like your ex.

After your breakup with Chanhyun, you were convinced that you didn’t deserve love and that you would never find someone who could truly be a good partner. He never listened to you and pretended that nothing was going on with you and that you didn't have any problems. Chanhyun never cared about you, ignored your feelings as if they didn’t exist. He saw your diaries and notes in secret and hid about it until one day you saw your diary out of place. It broke your heart that even though he saw everything, he didn't try to talk to you. Even when you tried to talk to him and show him how much you were struggling, he remained indifferent.

Haechan was different.

After that experience, you closed yourself off, even from close friends, and only shared your thoughts and feelings online, where no one knew you. You kept telling everyone you were fine, and most people believed you. But not Renjun. Renjun always knew you better than you realized. He saw how unhappy you were with Changhyun and tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen. After your heart was broken, he was the one who stayed by your side. He saw your tears and the depression you sank into. That’s why Renjun became like an older brother to you, protecting, caring for you and didn't let suspicious guys near you. You didn’t mind. At that point, love wasn’t important to you anymore.

You left the café, holding two cheesecakes and a coffee, feeling happy. Today, you and Haechan were finally going to finish your choreography, and you couldn’t wait to show it to your team.

When you entered the studio, you heard familiar music. “Ateez?”

Haechan was sitting on the couch with his phone in hand. Hearing the door open, he looked up. “Oh, Y/N!” “Hi!” you smiled, sitting next to him and placing the cheesecakes and coffee on the small table. “I got one with strawberry and one with chocolate. I hope you’ll like them. This café always has the best cheesecakes!” you said with a sweet smile.

Haechan froze, staring at you. You were so beautiful in that moment, and he felt his love for you grow even stronger. Wait. Love? Did he love you?

“I’m sure they’re the best cheesecakes,” he replied warmly.

You stood up to go change, but suddenly paused as you listened to the music. “Wait, Ateez? Why are you playing them?” “They just had a comeback, so I decided to listen. Plus, you like them.”

You nodded, heading towards the changing room, but a thought crossed your mind: How does he know I like Ateez?

You stopped in the doorway. “Donghyuck?” “Yeah?” “How do you know I like them?”

The air in the room felt heavy. You weren’t smiling anymore, and Haechan noticed, becoming slightly anxious. “You told me! I remember you mentioned them once, so I remembered!” he said, trying to sound confident. “Oh, really?” you replied awkwardly,already believing in his words, but then he added: “I even remember that your bias is Yunho.”

What?

“Yunho?” “Yeah, you like him a lot, don’t you?” “I never said Yunho was my bias.” “You did.” “No.” “Yes, Y/N, you…” “No. My bias is Seonghwa, not Yunho. And, by the way, I’ve never even mentioned Seonghwa before. Yet you’re claiming I talked about Yunho.”

Why was Haechan so sure about this? What made him think that? How did he even know you liked Ateez? Did you ever tell him?

You froze. “Y/N, are you okay?”

Haechan’s behavior was suspicious. You started recalling all the moments when he unexpectedly showed up when you needed something. You thought he was just attentive, but no, that didn’t seem to be the case.

You remembered how he suddenly gave you chocolates. How he comforted you when you were anxious. How he unexpectedly suggested going for a walk. How someone "randomly" transferred you money when you needed it. How you suddenly started hearing Ateez songs and that your bias is Yunho. And finally, you noticed how Haechan’s attitude toward you had changed. He became more cautious and caring. If he used to joke around and tease you often, now he was entirely different.

Haechan had changed. Haechan knew.

“Do you know about my Twitter?” you asked sharply, looking at him.

Haechan froze, panic spreading across his face. “T-Twitter? Of course, I know. Everyone knows. You know mine too, right?” He let out an awkward laugh, trying to play it off.

“My private account.”

From his reaction, you realized everything. He knew about your Twitter. He knew all your thoughts and struggles.

Haechan swallowed hard and stood up, looking you in the eye. “Y/N, I...”

“You know about my account, Haechan.”

Haechan froze. You never called him Haechan; you were the only one who always used his real name. Hearing his nickname from you in such a cold tone hurt him deeply. “No, no... I’m Donghyuck, not Haechan,” he stammered.

“And here I thought you were just attentive, but instead, you stayed silent and kept it all to yourself?” Your eyes welled up with tears as you stepped away from him.

Haechan panicked and stepped closer, trying to take your hands in his. “Y/N, let me explain everything... It was an accident...”

“God, Renjun was right...” You stepped even further away and lowered your head. Haechan saw tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N, Y/N, I didn’t mean to. I came across it accidentally, please hear me out.”

“You seriously read everything about me, and...” You raised your head, and Haechan froze. “How am I supposed to dance that choreo with you after this?”

Haechan’s heart shattered. “Please, Y/N, hear me out. I didn’t find out that long ago. I wanted to tell you, but I was scared. I was afraid you’d shut me out. We were never that close, and I thought this was a good way to understand you better. I genuinely wanted to help you.”

“You wanted to know me without asking me directly? You know, maybe it’s my fault for not locking my account. It’s not your fault—it’s mine,” you said bitterly.

“No, Y/N, you’re not to blame. Please, don’t say that.”

“Haechan, I just don’t know how to talk to you now, knowing that you know everything about me. Knowing I..." "...I was so miserable?"

“Y/N, don’t say that. Please. You’re not awful. There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“It hurts to know that you now know my worst secrets, but I don’t know anything about you except the image you show to others.”

Haechan stood there, stunned. He watched you breathe rapidly, and he himself was on the verge of tears. “That’s not true! You know a lot about me already, and if you want, I can open up to you even more.”

“So you know that I have feelings for you,” you interrupted, recalling your tweet.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, but I want to go home. I can’t dance,” you said as you started gathering your things.

“Y/N, please don’t shut me out. We need to talk...”

You stayed silent.

“Do you want me to tell Jeno that we can’t show our dance? I’ll tell him it’s my fault. I won’t mention you.”

You still said nothing, a lump in your throat stopping you from speaking. Haechan wanted to hug you but feared crossing another line.

“I...” you stammered. “Tell him whatever you want,” you said and walked out of the studio.

Haechan wanted to run after you. He didn’t want to leave you in such a state, knowing he had caused it. But he stayed frozen, staring at the door, tears welling up in his eyes.

Was Haechan different?

-------

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note: I put my soul here. It was so funny to me when you all thought that renjun was jealous and in love with her😭 renjun is my favourite here btw

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[yeahspider]

goodnight n go ❄️

a/n- finally finished this draft from 11 months ago. (yeah I suck ik) but then I didn't really finish it bc the ending is a tad abrupt. but that's just kinda how I am. this is a cute lil angst/comfort fic featuring felix (my beloved) very sfw and gn reader. enjoy and feel free to stop by my inbox with requests!! happy reading beloveds <3

Long distance was never easy. You both knew this when you started dating. But Felix was convinced you could make it work.

You met him accidentally. Spending a semester in Korea was turning out to be a more lonely experience than you ever could’ve imagined. You often found yourself counting down the days until you could leave. But then you met Felix, and all of a sudden, you wanted to stop the clock.

But unfortunately, freezing time wasn’t a skill you possessed. So as you packed your final items in your bag you thought about the first time you met him.

It was a warm day. Sun was shining occasionally through the clouds as you leaned your head against the cafe window. Today was going terribly. You were late to your classes because you overslept and then your professor was kind enough to let you know that you were one bad grade away from falling the semester. Not even your favorite green tea latte could brighten your day. Until he asked to sit with you. And all of a sudden you didn’t need the sun . he shined brighter than it ever could. Smile sparkling in the light of the cafe. He was gorgeous, so of course you said yes.

Laptop open you tried to concentrate on your lecture notes but the way he smelt was distracting. Consuming your inner monologue, oranges, and vanilla swirl together in a strikingly pleasant way.

His fingers waved in front of your face snatching your attention. Apparently, he had been talking to you for the past five minutes while you were absorbed in your thoughts about him. Laughing when you gave him a confused look. You had no idea what he had just said. It didn't seem to bother him too much. Restating himself with a smile on his face. His teeth were perfectly white and straight. Did he not own a single flaw?

But that was five months ago. In those months you fell in love with everything that was Lee Felix. You had never known a love so warm and positive. With his help you fixed your grades, even making the dean's list. He took you around Seoul showing you sites you never would've visited on your own. Meeting his friends who welcomed you with open arms. You felt so accepted. You weren't alone anymore.

Zipping up your last suitcase you had five minutes to say goodbye to your apartment that held so many memories for you. The kitchen where you shred your first kiss. That same day you burnt a batch of cookies together. More your fault than anything, but Felix didn't make you feel bad for it. Even taking a bite out of one to make the smile return to your face. The door you crossed so many times with him in tow. Body on body as you fumbled your way to the couch. Laughing when he tripped on the rug.

It was all over, for the foreseeable future at least. Your visa expiring forced you to leave behind the only love you've ever known. Felix wasn't even able to see you off at the airport. He had a strict schedule he couldn't stray from, not that you would let him. He had already done so much for you. You wouldn't risk his job just so you could have a few more moments of comfort. You weren't that selfish.

Stepping on the plane and finding your seat you wondered what would happen if you had never met. Would you be spared from the pain squeezing your heart with every breath? No. You don't regret him. You couldn't, not after all the kindness he showed you. Not after all the love

Closing your eyes, you lay your head back on the seat. The window blinds were closed so the sunlight wouldn't touch you. It reminded you too much of your own sun. Seats all around you filled up, but the two next to you remained empty, just reminding you of how lonely you were becoming again.

Suddenly you felt a dip in the seat beside you. Causing you to jolt up, ready to make room for the newcomer. When you looked you saw the familiar blonde that warmed your days.

"is that seat taken?" Felix asked with the biggest grin on his face. You quickly pulled him down into the seat and hugged him as tight as you could. Not believing it was really him. gently wiping tears from your cheek you didn't even realize were falling. He hushed your cries as he pulled you close.

"I convinced the company to let me work from home. So I can follow you anywhere. You didn't think I was seriously going to let you leave without me were you?"

[whump-imagines]

Stomach Flu

Buddie x reader

Wc: 1700 ish

You laid in bed trying desperately to fall asleep. Some kind of stomach flu had found you and was clearly trying to kill you. All night you’d been fighting blankets because you'd be hot and then freezing and then hot again. And when you'd thought maybe you'd gotten comfortable the nausea would hit.

The toilet was your new best friend. You’d spent a decent amount of time clinging to the bowl for dear life. It was worse than any bad night of drinking you had ever had.

So now you were momentarily a comfortable temperature and not as nauseous so you didn't dare move as you begged for sleep to come.

Next thing you know the bed is jostled aggressively as Buck jumps onto the mattress and asks, “You're still in bed?”

The sudden movement sends a jolt of pain through your skull and nearly causes you to puke. You launch yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Falling to your knees, you empty the non-existent contents of your stomach.

Eddie is knelt beside you a moment later. He takes your hair in one hand and rubs your back with the other.

“Ugh. My best friend, we meet again,” you mumble into the toilet bowl.

“Again?” Eddie asks. “What do you mean again?”

Rolling your forehead across the arm supporting your head, you glance at him and notice Buck in the doorway. “Well this is like the thousandth time I've been here since yesterday. I think I'm dying.”

Eddie runs his hand over your head then presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “Baby, why didn't you call us?”

“You were working. I didn't think I needed help puking my guts out.”

“One of us could have come home,” Buck says. “Or we could have brought supplies home.”

“Supplies?”

“Soup, Tylenol, tissues, maybe…” Buck listed.

“I'd just puke it back up. Everything in comes right back out.”

“Alright, are you done for now? Do you want head back to bed?” Eddie asks.

“Moving makes me more nauseous. And my head hurts.”

“Have you had any water?” Eddie asks.

“Tried. Failed.” You lean back and the world spins. “This sucks.”

Eddie shifts you so you can relax back into him. “I bet. We're going to get you back into bed and get a bucket so you don't have to come lay on the floor in here anymore. Okay?”

“‘Kay.” You snuggle into him, enjoying his warmth.

Eddie manages to get up and lift you without too much jostling. “Can you go lay on the bed and I'll give her to you?” He asks Buck.

“Okay.” You hear the jingle of Buck’s belt and then the clank of it hitting the floor. Next, your set gently on the bed cuddled close to Buck, his arm your pillow.

“You're warm,” you announce and you press yourself even closer and move your head into his chest.

“I'll be back soon,” Eddie says. “Try to get some sleep if you can.”

You whine, not wanting him to leave. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the station. We need an IV kit, fluids, zofran, and probably Tylenol.”

“I don't want an IV.”

“Sweetheart, you're very dehydrated,” Eddie explains. “If you can't keep down water then you need the IV.”

You sigh. “Fine.”

Buck chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Eddie leans over and kisses your head then a quick parting kiss to Buck’s lips. “Love you guys. I'll be quick.”

“We love you, too.” Buck says.

A minute later you hear Eddie’s keys jingle and then the front door open and close.

“Sorry I woke you like that earlier.”

You snort a laugh. “Not your fault, you didn't know.”

He runs his fingers up and down your side and shoulder in random patterns. “Try to sleep,” he suggests.

“Can you tell me a story?” you ask.

“What kind of story?”

“I don't care. It's just soothing to hear you talk,” you tell him. “Might help me sleep.”

He starts to tell you all about flamingos because he knows how much you love them. He explains everything from how they get their color to their migration patterns and before long you feel yourself sinking into a peaceful sleep.

You wake to the sounds of Buck and Eddie laughing. You can tell they’re trying to be quiet but the giggles are shaking you and the whole bed. “What's so funny?”

“Crap. Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you,” Buck says.

“It's fine. I need to pee anyway.” You shift to roll onto your back but end up leaned against Eddie. “You didn't tell me what was funny.”

“Just a dumb video on TikTok,” Eddie explains. “How're you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider your answer. Your head still hurts but not as much. You still have nausea but it's much more bearable. “Shitty, but kind of better.”

Buck rolls and then stands before offering you a hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You reach over to take his hand, noticing the IV line for the first time. “I slept through that?”

“Bathroom,” Buck answers.

“Exhaustion will do that,” Eddie answers your second question.

Buck helps you up and your muscles protest the change in position. He wraps an arm around your waist as you sway slightly.

You take a deep breath and blow it out. “I'm good. Let's go.”

Eddie stands and grabs the bag of fluids you hadn't noticed hanging on a command hook on the wall.

All three of you head to the bathroom together and as you sit you look around. “I like this view of the bathroom much better than the other.”

“I prefer this, too,” Eddie says. “Especially the knowing you're not as dehydrated.”

“Yeah, you already look so much better than this morning,” Buck adds.

You slowly make your way back to the bed and as you're making yourself comfortable you catch a glimpse of the clock. “Holy crap! How is it almost 11?”

They both just chuckle. “That's what happens when you sleep for three hours,” Eddie explains.

“I think that's more sleep than I got total all night. Guess I needed a better pillow,” you laugh as you look at Buck.

“You could have had that all night if you'd called us. I'm going to go make you some soup,” Buck announces as he leaves the room.

“I'm not hungry.”

Eddie sits down beside you. “You have to try a few bites at least, okay?”

You pout at him. “I don't want to puke anymore.”

“You shouldn't. I gave you some zofran,” he tries to sooth you.

“Fine.” You roll your eyes “But you better have that bucket close by.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “It's on the floor right here, but you're not going to need it.”

“You're awfully optimistic given that I'm still nauseous.”

“You said you felt better,” he chastises. “Is it still as bad?”

Leaning back into him, you explain, “I said I feel shitty. Shitty is better than feeling like death. I'm less nauseous, but still nauseous.”

“I'm sorry you feel shitty,” he intertwines his fingers with yours and lifts it to kiss your knuckles. “The soup should help you feel less shitty. Hopefully you're just nauseous because you have nothing in your system. So just try a few bites, okay?”

Buck returns with a tray in his hands. “I have soup, the old fashioned chicken noodle just like you like. I also have saltine crackers, oyster crackers, sprite, and water.” He sets the tray in front of you and then leans in to kiss you.

You pull away quickly. “Don't kiss me. You'll catch this plague.”

“I'll risk it.”

You lift the spoon and drink a spoonful of the broth and then you pause, waiting for the nausea to get worse. When it doesn't, you continue slowly with more broth and then eventually the noodles and a couple crackers.

Eventually you manage to eat almost half the soup and a few sips of water before you set the spoon down. “I'm done. I can't handle any more right now.”

“That's fine. You ate way more than I expected,” Eddie says.

Buck takes the water and sprite off the tray and sets them on the bedside table before taking the rest away.

“Can I have my hand back yet?” You lift the hand with the IV line and give him your best pouty face.

He shakes his head. “No. I will unhook the fluids when that bag is gone but I want to keep the IV lock for now until we're sure you're going to keep all that down.”

You roll your eyes. “Fiiiiine.”

He laughs. “Do you want me to have to poke you again if you do puke more?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No.”

“Thought so.” He boops your nose. “Glad to see you're feeling better.”

Buck returns and snuggles in beside you on the bed. “You want to pick a movie to nap through?”

You smiled and they both groaned. “Sleeping Beauty! Oh, wait, Enchanted… no, I actually want to be awake for that. Sleeping Beauty for sure.”

“Why do you make us watch princess movies when you know you're only going to watch ten minutes?” Buck complained.

“Because it's fun.” You shrugged. “Plus, then I get to dream I'm a princess.”

Buck raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying that if we switch to football as soon as you're asleep you're going to dream about that?”

“Probably.”

“Sleeping Beauty on one condition…” Eddie started.

“What?” you asked.

“Next time you get sick while we're at work, you call us immediately.”

“No,” you argued. “Because there won't be a next time. This is awful. I don't want a repeat.”

“Fine. If! If by some small chance it happens or if you just get the sniffles… you call.”

“Deal.”

Eddie gets the movie set up and you make yourself comfortable. This time you use Eddie as a body pillow and Buck drapes his arm over your waist.

The movie starts and you almost instantly feel yourself drifting. “Love you guys.” You mumble as you close your eyes.

They chorus an “I love you too,” as you fall into a dreamless slumber.

[celestie0]

hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

[reader-wandering18]

Re:Zero Yuu

— Yuu?

His eyes that were looking straight ahead, slowly moved to his side observing those young first years.

— Did something happen? Why did you suddenly shut up?

— If you don't hurry up and eat your slice of cake I'll eat it for you minions — Grim threatened expecting a typical annoyed reaction from Yuu but… Yuu just watched, with a lost look until he suddenly covered his mouth.

His body began to tremble, while he heard how his heart was beating so quickly and his pupils dilated as if he had busted something really scary.

— Hey Yuu, what's wrong?! — Deuce shouted which made him get the attention of Trey and Carter

— Supervisor, what's going on?! Was there something wrong with the sweets?! — Trey asked, who had stood next to him, touching his back in search of comfort since his tea seemed pale.

— An allergic reaction? Was it too much sugar? Supervisor! What's wrong?! — Carter also seemed to be worried but also somewhat scared since he didn't know what was wrong with him and could only guess in search of any sign of agreement from Yuu.

"I feel nauseous…" "I feel bad…" "Please, please…"

— Supervisor!!

Riddle's voice was heard throughout the place, not caring, he dropped his staff, as well as his crown and ran towards Yuu once he noticed the commotion at his table.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE!!!!!"

A series of memories flooded his mind. Again and again

He had, DIED.

How did that happen?

His curse began when he arrived at Night Raven College, a prestigious four-year academy with a focus on magical education. A school that chooses promising students in magic with a great future and trains them to be great magicians. Because of that, the students were proud, selfish, and competitive, but with great qualities.

Strangely, he had been chosen.

HIM, a human without magic from ANOTHER WORLD.

For a while, he didn't understand what the mirror of darkness saw in him to take him so far to a world like Twisted Wonderland. But now he seems to get an idea.

He is a boy of only 16 years old, with a normal life. No girlfriend, no friends, not at all popular, unattractive, and not at all athletic. A boring life. That's why he always read novels or watched isekai anime to distract himself from his boring life.

He dreamed of being that hero summoned from another world. With great strength, many people who love him and a Harem of all kinds of women.

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.

He had been awakened by what he thought at the time was a really weird raccoon, ran away, met Crowley and returned to the classroom where he received a shocking revelation.

He was in another world.

At first he felt excited, to which he acted as usual by filling the director with questions and introducing himself to everyone with kindness, although when he noticed that the awkward silence produced in the classroom and the mocking laughter from other students, made him simply shut up. He hoped to humiliate others with his great power, but the mirror's word about his lack of magic only made the mockery towards him intensify.

That's when it happened.

That raccoon had broken free from the director's whip and began to spit fire around the place.

Due to his lack of reflexes, he was enveloped in those blue flames. He could only feel pain, pain, pain, until he simply stopped feeling anything.

He had died.

A truly pathetic death after having arrived in another world. That was his last thought until he was awakened again by those blue flames. He had returned to the moment when Grim opened his attack.

He didn't know how it was possible. Was there really a god in this world that looked after him? Is that his powerful ability? It sucked since he was absolutely terrified of death, especially with the horrible way he died, it was simply something he would never be allowed to forget.

His skin burning, bubbling from the heat, melting like ice cream.

Although he was grateful for that second chance, he never wanted to go through that again.

A really naive thought

The next day, he had met Ace again.

After getting into trouble, meeting Deuce and going to the dwarves' mine, he had finally managed to take the magic gem without letting anyone die. Even if Ace had initially shown himself to be a complete conceited, Yuu didn't have the heart to leave him abandoned in the mine with that ink monster. And he wanted to return Deuce's favor of helping him catch Ace.

Crushed, Buried, Beaten, Drowned in ink, Pierced by the pike…

That was attempt number 9 but he had succeeded, it had all been so painful, but those three were alive so it didn't really matter.

He enjoyed spending time at that school even if it didn't contain a shred of magic, so he started meeting more people and hanging out with those guys for a while.

It was fun

Now, he found himself once again facing one of the dorm leaders he saw at the entrance ceremony.

Rosehearts Riddle… in Overlord

The bodies of what he knew as his friends, his first and only friends, were found on the ground.

Time and time again, he had seen Ace torn apart by the roses, Carter stabbed by the cards, Trey pierced by numerous roses, and Deuce crushed by the terrifying shadow behind Riddle.

He couldn't help but wake up and vomit every morning at such memories.

It was 24 times until he had managed to defeat the Crimson Tyrant.

He hoped, no rather, wished with all his heart even to the god who had given him that ability that he would stop, but that didn't seem to be the end.

Before his eyes, he witnessed how his hand turned into sand.

Before his eyes, he witnessed how everyone was crushed by those tentacles.

Before his eyes, he witnessed how he had lost control of his body and attacked others.

Before his eyes, he witnessed how they bled from that poison in the air.

Before his eyes, he witnessed how again and again they were consumed by the blots.

Before his eyes, he witnessed how they all ended up in a deep sleep.

In each situation a different death, but he couldn't let any of them die. They were, HIS FIRST AND ONLY FRIENDS.

So I go back, once again, and save them all.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

The group seemed to grow so there came a point where he decided to ignore everything. But playing blind wasn't enough to make it just stop.

He just couldn't let them go.

Tried to tell about his ability. But before he could say a word, the world would stop around him and turn black and white.

Like it was an old movie.

But what was really painful were the times when he felt like his heart was being squeezed by an unknown force, as if he were locked in a cage that grew smaller every time he tried to say a single word about his resurrection.

Over and over again, it didn't matter what medium he tried to tell them through.

So just stop trying.

Everything around him was destroyed, the room where the large mirror was located was in ruins and the dark mirror itself was already on the floor, broken. Not only did Yuu find himself surrounded by large blue flames, but also by numerous bodies of all the people he had ever known.

All 7 leaders of the dormitory had fallen, including Malleus. That fairy-dragon who was said to be one of the strongest magicians in Twisted Wonderland, was already on the floor, bleeding and surrounded by those people who once swore to protect him.

He was the only one standing.

— Gri.. puag

His voice was cut off by the blood that began to come out of his mouth. Due to the silence of the place, it could be heard as it hit the ground and created a small puddle at his feet.

It had been a massacre.

Yuu began to laugh as he looked at that monster with gray fur, blue fire, chicken legs and a snake tail. That monster showed its teeth before him and opened its large faucets ready to devour him.

—Let's do it again… Yes, Grim

— Son of man?!

Yuu raised his head and saw Malleus.

They were both close, due to him being in Malleus' arms, however, he completely ignored that and looked into his eyes for a while.

— Is something wrong, Malleus? — Yuu said with a smile.

— …That's what I want to know

A moment ago Malleus was talking to Yuu about gargoyles, there was a beautiful smile on his face. So he was excitedly about proposing to go looking for gargoyles when suddenly Yuu jumped and looked around in despair.

Because of that regretful agitation he was about to fall so he quickly caught him in his arms to prevent him from getting hurt.

As his friend, he must PROTECT HIM.

The moment their eyes met, Malleus froze in place. It was for a moment until Yuu began to smile at him again, however, that smile did not seem to be one of embarrassment or happiness that he had given him before, but rather an expression of madness.

Tried 10.000

It's been a while since I wrote anything, I haven't really felt inspired and because of the evaluation week I've been working 24/7 but I finally managed to find some time to make a little fanfic.

Re:Zero wow the theme of this anime has caught my attention a lot, very different from how it is painted on its covers although I prefer to read the light novels than watch the anime or manga, but the gore is good so I'm encouraged.

In fact Subaru's theme reminded me of those crazy theories about Yuu.

Like the one who can get caught in a loop in Twisted Wonderland to try to save the school over and over again. And every time he dies he goes back to the beginning (the entrance ceremony).

there are a lot of really crazy theories, but at the same time they make some sense.

Also Yuu seems to be the kind of protagonist like Subaru, he doesn't have magic or anything other than Grim that makes him stand out. HE'S JUST A HUMAN SURROUNDED BY OTHER HUMANS OR EXTRAORDINARY BEINGS. And he lets himself be carried away by the leaders' Overblots even though he has no way to protect himself from them. Who wouldn't lose their minds at the sight of them?

[arcane-ish]

I think that is a really interesting speculation and it doesn't seem to me that unlikely, especially since Amanda loves Caitlyn and I presume she was heavily involved in the culmination of their relationship. I can easily picture her making time for that.

It would also make a lot of sense with the themes of the show, especially for those of us who see some visual parallels between Caitlyn and Silco this season and Silco was a character heavily shaped by trauma.

That said, irregardless of what happened between Jinx and Caitlyn, I doubt it will change the critique of people who critique her from the "systemic" POV. Who approach it as "everybody has trauma, but because Caitlyn is in such an exalted and oppressor position, she just has completely different levers to pull, ways to make other people suffer for it than Jinx or Vi have". Because Caitlyn can just terrorize an entire city without even having to put in much personal effort. (and just because the show might not be about political issues doesn't change that certain people will insist that it should be understood that way, regardless of whether the characters or the writers understand it like that. ie just because maybe the writers didn't mean a save the damsel or fridge the girlfriend story to be sexist doesn't mean that people will see it as being part of a larger sexist narrative)

I feel like in the end, the people who already sympathize with her will sympathize even more deeply with her and the ones who don't likely won't be impressed just because Caitlyn's trauma was slightly worse than just losing her mother.

(which in the end is maybe another parallel to Silco, having had genuine trauma in his past and genuinely loving Jinx doesn't magically make him not a bad person anymore, so why would it be different for Caitlyn if she had genuine trauma and genuinely loves Vi)

The more interesting aspect is probably the character level. If Vi hears about it and she loves Cait and she sympathizes, does that mean that Vi will never forgive Jinx or never feel comfortable around her again?

From a shippy point of view I just don't think that it can work for Caitlyn to tell her story and for Vi and stand up and make excuses for Jinx. So the only thing that could work would be if Caitlyn got to a point where she learned to sympathize with Jinx (ie no longer blame Jinx because she sees it as Jinx having a mental illness).

I just have a hard time picturing that on a show as violent as this they can really do much to "impress" people. I just think that there's a low chance that they would go for something like rape. I guess Caitlyn could reveal that she has scars on her body that are underneath her clothes (which certainly would be a good setup for CaitVi in my ways), though I personally that doesn't seem like Jinx's typical modus operandi? I guess there could have been something related to drowning (to parallel Silco) or gas (as this is something that has been done by several characters on the show by now). But just Jinx saying cruel things to her and dragging her around is not going to impress the Cait-dislikers.

Even if it's still going to be a powerful moment for Caitlyn and Vi, less for how what Jinx did was particularly awful, but for how Caitlyn kept it bottled up (with the timeskip at least a couple of weeks, maybe months) and is finally opening up about it to Vi. (could maybe fit nicely into Cait having issues being emotional with Vi/always pulling back, back in s2Act1)

Basically, I assume the emotional performance will be excellent and it's going to be serve as a great and satisfying explanation for Caitlyn x Vi shippers as to why Caitlyn broke up with Vi in Act 1 (and pacifiy the people whose main anger against Cait was that she hurt Vi). But it might not move the needle for people who think Caitlyn sucks for using The Grey on Zaunites.

In this interview Amanda said something that caught my attention. Do you think that in ep 8 Caitlyn will talk about what Jinx did to her when she kidnapped her? Bc Amanda said that in ep8 there's a Caitlyn line that will make us say "Oh so that's why"

Amanda means this line that Cait is going to say will let us know why she was so mad at Jinx in ep 3 and how Caitlyn went completely blind when she saw Jinx in her target and bc of her anger and also her fear and terror of Jinx, Cait has completely lost control of herself in this moment. (there is someone who made a post on this topic @loycos and talked about what happened to Cait in ep3 and how Cait didn't see Vi or Isha in front of her bc of her anger and her deeply terrified of Jinx) I mean look at her eyes and the expression on her face, yes she looks angry but she is also terrified.

This is a natural reaction. I mean for example, imagine that you see something that scares you so much. There are two reactions, either flight or fight, and these reactions always come without a person thinking. At this moment the person is only thinking about getting rid of the thing that scares him, and he does not focus on what is around him bc these strong feelings control him.

Anyway, what makes me sure that this scene might happen in ep 8 (Caitlyn talking about what happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her) is Reed Shannon (Ekko VA) comment when he saw the drawing and said "I thought this was a leak" Reed might be joking as usually, but why this particular drawing and why he chose this word "leak".

But honestly if this scene actually happened and we knew what happened to Caitlyn, it would make us understand more why she was so angry and scared of Jinx when she saw her in front of her and it would also explain why she literally went blind and didn't see anything around her at that moment, neither the child nor Vi, all Cait saw was Jinx, she just wants to bring down Jinx. I mean look at these pictures she is so terrified of her

Again Caitlyn's insistence on killing Jinx in the scene in ep 3 was not only motivated by revenge on Jinx, but also out of fear and terror of her.

And not like those idiots who say that Caitlyn wanted to kill the child on purpose to get to Jinx or even say that she wanted to kill Vi too, or bc she's a cop and the cops kill children and blah blah... That's really ridiculous and annoying!! Bc if we focus a little bit on the period that Caitlyn went through we will see that Cait didn't have time to process all these things that happened to her, from the torture that happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her, then the killing of her mother, then the attack on the memorial ceremony. (I know that Jinx is not the reason, but from Caitlyn's perspective she thinks that Jinx and the Silco followers are the reason)

And in the end I hope that no one comes who doesn't like the post bc I am defending Caitlyn's character. If you don't like this character I don't care, there is no need for you to write a stupid comments. Please don't tire your little fingers if you don't like my post block me this is better for you and me. I will not waste my time responding to you, I will delete your comment and block you immediately.

I am a student at the Faculty of Psychology, and when I talk about trauma and the interpretation of human behavior and reactions, I know well what I am talking about. Bc most of the characters' reactions in this show are very realistic and need to explanation, writers do not want to explain everything in the show, they want viewers to occupy their mind and explain the events themselves (And I still repeat the point that the show focuses on the development and complexity of the characters more than anything else, and does not focus on solving political issues, the show is not about politics, okay)

And btw some people ask me about my opinion of Jinx's character, I have no problem with her character at all, I like her and I understand her condition, when I criticize her actions, it doesn't mean I hate her.

One day I may do a post about her character development and her condition, but I see that there are many posts about her and her actions, and I feel like I won't say anything new about her. Unlike the rest of the characters like Vi and Caitlyn, there are not many people talking about them. And maybe I will make a Viktor post bc I really like the development of his character. When the show ends, maybe I will.

[aceingonthecake]

Very Personal Take on Good Omens

I've always related more to Crowley. It has always been easier for me to understand them than Aziraphale, especially in s1. Don't get me wrong, I've adored Aziraphale since day one too, I just think that, personality wise, we have less traits in common.

However, since the end of s2, I've been able to really feel for Aziraphale and immediately found myself defending them and their final decision. I won't lie and tell you that, at the beginning, I didn't feel angry and even a little betrayed at all, but once I cooled down and thought about it with a clear mind I got it. And, later, I also got the reason why I was feeling so defensive about Aziraphale.

Last year I broke up with my partner, with whom I also had a lot of mutual friends. I was the one to call it off and I did it because there were some dynamics I couldn't tolerate anymore, but I still loved them and I suffered a lot (still do sometimes). Still, I knew it was the right thing to do for the both of us and I never regretted it.

The thing is, the friends we had in common never really bothered to check up on me: I was the one to call it off and I was the one who'd always appeared emotionally stronger, so why would I be suffering? However, they comforted my ex multiple times, sometimes right after I'd gone home, because they just burst into tears in front of everyone. Obviously, I was very sad and cried a lot too, I just avoided doing it in front of our mutual friends to avoid creating sides (when we broke up we promised this to each other).

Connecting all of this to Good Omens, I believe that something like that is happening in the fandom too. A lot of people are hyper focusing on Crowley's pain because it's more obvious and understandable to them, while they're painting Aziraphale as the "bad one" who broke their heart and doesn't care about them just because they were the one who made the difficult decision. And, while I understand it's easier to see it that way, I also think it's not actually that hard to dig a little deeper.

Just because someone's pain is more evident doesn't mean they were the only one to get hurt and didn't hurt back too. Crowley hurt Aziraphale too, even if we might not see it immediately or as clearly as the other way around. They're both suffering, there is no right and wrong side, they both made mistakes and, nonetheless, it's no doubt they love each other and deserve a happy ending.

I hope this makes sense. It's a very emotionally charged analysis so, even if you don't agree, be polite about it please. I know I didn't get too much into what happened in the final 15, but I've already made (and I'll make) other specific posts about it. This one was more of an emotional take.

I'd also like to underline that none of this is a contest about who's hurting more. It's an invitation not to take for granted other people's feelings but actually try and understand both sides of a situation, even if we naturally relate to or understand one more than the other. (Of course, this doesn't apply to toxic relationships).

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 27: ~

No Hard Feelings:

And, here we are, the final chapter for season 1. Yes. You read that right. There will be a season 2, but it won't begin until after Christmas. Until then, I have another announcement and I'll be focusing on my own project as well.

I also want to thank everyone who's been following this story, and hopefully will continue to do so going forward.

The glow from the fire pit greeted Suze and Rennick. Caz waved them over as Trots and Simon began to serve everyone. Suze headed for her husband and took her spot on the steps. Rennick awkwardly sat between Gibbo and Roy, unable to look them in the eye. He wanted to be with Suze. In just ten minutes, she had become a source of comfort for him. Letting out all his feelings and washing away his 'King' façade, which was both a blessing and a curse, because now he was just Davey Rennick. But, who was Davey Rennick?

Gibbo handed him a bowl of casserole, which he took with a quiet 'thank you.' He could feel everyone's eyes on him. Soon, they all took their seats around the firepit. Small chatter filled the air. Rennick stared at his food. He didn't have the appetite. One last thing weighed on his mind. Now, it was his turn to be brave.

'I know,' everyone stopped and turned. They saw the anxiety in Rennick's eyes. Too late to go back now. 'I've been more than a shit manager to all of you. And, what I did has caused us all to be here. Because of me, you lot,' referring to the infected. 'Will never be the same again, and I can't fix that. You all had to deal with who I was for so long, and, looking back, I'm surprised you didn't throw me overboard.' An empty joke no one laughed at, but Rennick made another empty chuckle. It was his way of finding strength. 'And I'm sorry you had to deal with who I was for so long. I just...' A sigh. 'I dunno. Turned into something you all had to see.' He paused to catch his breath. 'I don't want to be that man anymore, but I don't know where to start. And-'

'And we want to apologise.'

Rennick flinched when he felt someone touch the top of his head. It was Gibbo. That surprised Rennick. He thought Gibbo would never speak to him again. The last time he did, he split his cheek and brow open.

'...F-For what?'

'For not supporting you. You got us here, and we never thanked you for it.'

'No. You don't need to-'

'We're also sorry for not noticing how you've been feeling,' Brodie interrupted. 'We're in this together, and we should have seen what you're going through.'

Rennick was stunned. He glanced to Gibbo, then to everyone else. He didn't understand. He saw their kind eyes, causing his to widen. No one's looked at him like that in a long time. He didn't know what to say.

'Ah, King Rennick,' Roy hummed, breaking the silence. 'Well, if he's officially gone, then...' He moved to grab a beer, opening and handing it to Rennick. 'I'm happy to finally meet you.'

He accepted with a small yet genuine smile. 'Let's hope this one isn't a prick, eh?' They tapped the bottom of their bottles together before taking a swig. Still weaker than piss. The robin flew and perched on Rennick's arm, softening his eyes. Everyone noticed, and seeing their manager smile, whilst different, was nice to see.

'Okay then, Davey, tell us a bit about yourself?' Trots smirked.

'What?'

'Oh God,' Caz snickered under his breath.

'We do it with anyone who joins the friend group.'

It took Rennick a moment to realise what they were saying, and he just laughed. Yet again, it was different but nice to see.

'So, we know you like to laugh,' Trots joked. 'Good to know.'

'Oh, and what about you, Campbell?'

'He's trained in ballroom dancing,' Simon answered without hesitation, causing Trots to snap his head to his lover and nudge him in the arm. Everyone except O'Connor, Mary, Gibbo, and Irene was shocked. They knew he was into classical music from the 40s, but he never told anyone that he swayed around on the dance floor.

'And you never told us,' O'Connor teased, causing Trots' face to go red, who now realised he's been played at his own game.

'So, you do have a personality outside of a Union,' Gibbo continued.

'Come on,' Addair encouraged, putting on a terrible Scottish Accent. 'Do a little jig.' For once, everyone agreed with him.

'Okay, next!' Trots yelled a little too loudly, making Simon laugh, earning another small nudge. 'You're on the naughty list,' he whispered.

'Oh, you tease,' Simon whispered back, before sneaking in a small kiss on the cheek.

'Well, actually...' Raffs got to his feet and went inside the house. Rennick didn't expect anything and just thought the young lad was going to get more drinks. Until he returned with a dart board in his hands. 'We'd like to know if you can play?'

For some reason, that got Rennick to laugh again. He didn't know where it came from. Was it nerves? Maybe. But, the man was happy, and his smile grew wider.'Got any darts?'

The crew and their families had learned three things about Davey Rennick.

One; He loved to laugh. Sometimes, it fell into a mischievous giggle, which was rather infectious.

Two: He adored the bird. A tendril was always stroking the top of the robin's head, and she didn't seem to mind. Roy, however, had a feeling he was an animal lover. The food he always gave him would quickly vanish with a clean plate, knife and fork, and seagulls loved to perch around his office.

Three: He was really good at darts, beating Brodie's score with flying colours, causing everyone to cheer and hug him. Something else for Rennick to be surprised by, freezing up his body and just allowing it to happen. His mind wandered back to the final night on the rig, when Caz confessed what he did to Billy. Although he wasn't there, he completely understood Caz's feelings and the high spirits everyone felt. It then flashed to when Brodie won the darts. Again, he understood the feeling. How wonderful it was. No wonder he was jealous. Thankfully, it wasn't a mosh pit, but he, too, had to hold back his tears again.

'Alright, get off. I need another beer.' That wasn't going to be so easy. Muir, just like he did with Brodie and Caz, lifted the man up above his head as if he was holding a cat under their arms. Rennick yelped in surprise before begging to be put down. Wish granted. He moved away from his crewmates, who were now setting the dart board up for another round, because Brodie wasn't losing his title after working so hard to get it.

With a content sigh, Rennick sat near to the firepit and watched from afar. The robin landed on his nose. A beer came into his peripheral vision. He turned. It was Caz. Rennick accepted whilst the leccy pulled reposition a chair and sat beside him.

'Thanks.'

'Nae bother.' They tapped the bottles together and took a swig. 'I see Suze got through to you.'

'Aye. You chose her well.'

'Nah. She chose me, and I nearly fucked it up.' Caz felt Rennick wrap a tendril around his shoulder for support. 'But, I think we're back on track now.' He then noticed the robin still resting. 'What's her name?'

'Still debating on that.' They watched the bird fly and nestle on the crown of his head. 'But...' Rennick didn't have any personal memories of her, but the name was fitting. 'I like the name Ruby.'

'Ruby it is then.' Another tap of their beer bottles. 'See, Rennick?'

'What?'

'Does this mean we're okay, like? No hard feelings?'

Rennick was quiet for a moment. He looked at Caz. Deep down, he expected some feelings to bubble to the surface. The hatred and anger he felt when he read the letter. That feeling of betrayal from someone he did respect. His blood boiling. How he wanted to give the leccy the same treatment he gave Billy during their 'meeting.' How he wanted to crush every bone in his body when he chased him throughout Administration. But, none of that happened. Not even the pain from transforming entered his mind. The man was content. Finally at peace. The pair turned back to watch the darts game.

'Aye. No hard feelings.'

[a-spes]

DEVIOUS LIES — MASTERLIST (27.842 words)

| Summary (anon request) — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room. Tags — Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!R, Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!R, Avengers x Avenger!Reader, Angst Without Comfort, Bittersweet.

| Part one. — 3.842 words. Warnings - Cheating, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-depreciation.

It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.

| Part two. — 8.792 words. Warnings - Mentions of Cheating, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-depreciation, Mentions of SA&SH, Manipulation, Toxic Relationship&Friendship, Revenge Porn, NC Use of Drugs.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

| Part three. — 8.929 words. Warnings - Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Ideations, Self-deprecation, Depression, Manipulation, Toxic Friendship, Severe Injuries (R), Mentions of Death, No Happy Ending.

“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further.  Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.

| The scars in our hearts. - 6.279 words. Warnings - Self-doubt, Self-depreciation, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Bad&Unhealthy Copism Mechanisms, Toxic Relationships&Friendships.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

[brotherwtf]

Hello, I'd like to ask for 15. "Your silence speaks more than you ever have. And, I'm not sure why it took so long for me to notice", Buck and Bucky in canon universe :)

oh my goodness yes, Bucky can read Gale so well when he's silent, he's one of the only ones who can truly understand what Gale is going through even when he doesn't talk

----

When Buck went silent, it usually explained more than Gale could ever explain through words alone.

He didn't talk much to begin with, it was either casual banter with John or orders to subordinates, but he didn't run his mouth like John did. Whenever John was distressed or anxious or exhausted he would talk until he couldn't talk anymore. Gale wasn't like that, and John had to learn how to read Gale like no other.

Even now as the flares went off and people cheered for the end of the war; Gale was silent. All he had done was reach for John's flask and delicately bring it to his lips, John knows that was his first sip of alcohol in a long, long time. He didn't say anything, not until the flares had long died down and the sounds of cheers grew distant. Gale just kept looking up at the sky, almost like he was expecting it to open up and drop bombs on them. It didn't seem like he believed it.

"Can you believe it, Gale? All of this, all of the fighting, it's all done," John says and he hates that his voice wobbles ever so slightly because he's not sure he believes it himself. He's waiting for the red light to glow again, for Colonel Harding to order him on another mission. This couldn't be real.

Gale, of course, stayed silent, but he looked over at John and sighed something heavy. His eyes were searching, and John mustered a smile just for him. He reached a hand across and held Gale's chin while he kissed him gently, just the short press of lips on lips. But when John moved to pull away Gale's hands shot out like a gunshot, grabbing onto John's arm and pressing their foreheads together, eyes squeezed shut as he inhales long and deep.

"Gale? Something wrong?" John asks and he can see Gale take a breath, another big one that tried to fill his chest, and shake his head. He stumbles on some words, but his grip on John's arm gets tighter.

John nods, moving his hand so he can hold Gale's bringing it up to his lips and pressing a short kiss to the back of it. It's dangerous, they're out in the open on this control tower but John doesn't care. It's the end of the fucking war, people can turn their eyes away from a private moment for just a minute.

"Do you want me to stay? Because I can, doll, I'll stay with you as long as you like," John whispers and feels some comfort when he feels Gale nod his head against his face.

Gale's grip on his hands gets tighter and his face screws up again, pushing his nose into John's cheek as if he's trying to fit into John's skin. John takes Gale's head and presses their cheeks together, pushing his own nose into the hair that had started to grow on the nape of his neck. He didn't smell like his aftershave anymore, and it hurt John to realize how different everything was now.

"I'll stay, I swear I'll stay. Even when we're back in the states. I ain't never leaving you again, Buck," John whispers, and it's a confession if he's ever heard one.

Gale turns his face to press himself further into John's cheek, and John can't help but huff a laugh.

"Your silence speaks more than you ever have. I'm not sure why it took me this long to notice," John whispers and he can feel Gale smile against his cheek.

"I don't know, John, what took you so long?" Gale says, voice breathy from not speaking for hours.

It makes John smile, and he needs that. He needed to smile and he hides a small laugh into Gale's cheek again, arm coming up to wrap around Gale's body so he can hold him in an embrace.

Everything was different now, but in some comforting way, everything remained much the same.

[lovelyshu]

HOW CAN I WRITE LOVE INTO REALITY? — with jeongin

description. who knew that a study session could lead to love confessions.

tags. gn!reader, best friends!reader and jeongin, not proofread, short(?)

comments. hii, had this idea from these pictures so uhhh, enjoy??

You and Jeongin have been friend for years now. Ever since middle school, you two never separated from each other.

And some people even went to the point of shipping you two. I mean, he's always looking for you and vice versa. It's not hard to think that you're dating him.

Well, maybe you even enjoyed it.

Not that anyone else needs to know that. Especially Jeongin.

The more you spent time with him, more those feelings would get harder and harder to ignore.

And lucky for you, today was going to be one of your studies sessions with him.

You were waiting for him to arrive, already reading some of the content so you have an idea on what to do.

Not even a few moments later, you heard knocking, and you felt a bit embarrassed from how quick you got up to open the door, even daring to stop in front of it so it didn't sound like you were desperate for him to come.

I mean, you obviously weren't.

“Hey, come in.”

There wasn't a need for extended or formal greetings anymore, so you usually just say the same thing and he nods with a smile.

You two walked to your room, which was a bit messier than usual from all the intense studying from the last days.

“Please excuse the mess, I have been focusing too much on these tests and a clean room isn't my top priority right now.”

The only reason you stopped talking was because you heard him laugh, already making himself comfortable on your bed.

“It's fine. You don't need to die from nervousness. We're friends, in case you've forgotten.”

You know he meant that in a way that you're not strangers.

But his words still made you sad for a moment, that you sure as hell hoped he didn't noticed.

“Yeah yeah, let's just start this please. I feel like I'm going to fail even my name on this subject.”

That only made him laugh even more, which eventually, made you laugh as well.

After an hour or two studying non stop, you started to get tired. Which Jeongin noticed right away.

“Let's have a break. You look like you're going to sleep on top of those books.” — he was trying to make a joke, but what he said was true. You were looking very tired.

“No, let's continue. I think I'm starting to understand this.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and before your brain could process it, Jeongin was standing right in front of you.

“There's no 'no'. We're taking a break now.”

There was no reason to try to protest, your body might be okay, but your mind was basically shutting itself down and refusing to read anything.

Jeongin sat down next to you, hesitantly moving your head to his shoulder.

Which surprised you, and honestly, even himself.

It's not like you haven't been in this position before, but this time it felt different. It felt more..

Intimate.

And you're pretty sure he thinks the same, since he's been pretty quiet and that's a rare occurrence between you two.

The half awkward silence stayed for a little longer, until he poked your side, getting your attention.

Jeongin didn't say a word, only putting something on your lap and looking away.

You saw what he had handed you - a letter. Listen, you were by no means someone too delusional or anything, but you were almost sure this was a love letter.

Your eyes were focused solely on the paper, carefully opening it and slowly reading what was written.

With each word you felt your heart beating faster, a soft, but noticeable tint of red creeping on your cheeks.

You were about to say something, but Jeongin was faster.

“I know this isn't the best moment and all, but I'm not sure when will I have the courage to give this to you again.”

Looking at him, you couldn't help but smile. This was one of the rare moments where he was truly embarrassed and even flustered. Because of you, nonetheless.

“Before we do anything about this, just know that.. I love you too.”

Now, it was a shock he didn't broke his neck from how fast he turned around to face you.

You two stared at each other, not sure on what to do or what to say. Well, until you pulled him for a kiss.

It wasn't by any means a long kiss or anything, but it was enough to pass the message.

He smiled at you and you mirrored his smile, feeling zero interest in going back to study.

Wanting to only enjoy this moment.