#their friendship means so much to me and i love them so much

[summertimesadnessirl]

I don't want that.

I want to be loved by someone who would never hurt me. Even if it means they don't get to act on their love as much as they want.

I don't want to be loved unless it's by someone who wants me to be happy more than they want to satisfy their own desires for me or to be around me or however you want to put it.

Everyone always loves me with reckless abandon but the reckless abandon always includes total disregard for my happiness or well being. Everyone who has loved me my entire life has seen me as the perfect thing to squash into the shape of the hole inside them. Whenever someone had loved me it's been like a drug addict or a cult leader.

I don't want to be loved at all.

I want all the relationships in my life to be explicitly transactional with written expectations of both side of the arrangement and consent and a way for both parties to leave with no negative financial or social repercussions on either side and no promises made that no one intends to keep or negging or gaslighting or manipulation.

Just honest fucking. Honest employment with no company culture or brainwashing. Honest friendship that consists of company.

I'm tired of getting smashed up by people and them claiming it's love.

I'm tired of people nurturing me and then taking away the things they helped me with if it means I'm less dependent on them.

I never liked being told how to dress and what to wear and what I was allowed to dislike and not allowed to say no to.

I sort of wish I was a tree so the only things I needed were sunlight and rain and being left alone. Being a pack animal is like constantly being told you're wrong and you owe it to other people to stop being yourself and you don't matter.

I want my life to be about me. Not in a way where I want to take other people's lives away from them. But I don't want to be loved because my experience of love is that it's when someone comes along and punishes you and tells you how evil and selfish you are for wanting to do anything that makes you happy except for them.

you deserve to be loved with reckless abandon even if you dont think you do

[inu1gf]

you bloom inside my heart

now playing: blooming day by exo-cbx

who: isagi yoichi

what: childhood friends to lovers, slight ooc (tag just in case but i know deep down in my heart that isagi is a yearning man when it comes to love)

the seed of you took root in isagi’s heart when you were both 4 years old.

meeting the new next door neighbors was something his mom wanted for everyone in the household to do. with him in between his parents, holding a tray of cookies, they waited patiently for someone to open the door.

“i’m coming! just a second!” a women’s muffled voice rang through the door slowly getting closer.

“hello! welcome to the neighborhood! we’re the isagi’s, your nextdoor neighbors. we wanted to come by and say hi and get acquainted. this is our child yoichi, if you do have a kid around their age we would love for them to be friends if that is alright with you?” isagi’s mom seemed to be beaming at the idea of having new neighbors and friends.

“hi we’re the [last name] and yes we do have a kid. let me call them over. [reader]! get over here! there’s someone who wants to meet you!” echoing through the home, the cute sound of pitter pattering foot steps seemed to get closer and closer, stopping behind the woman at the door.

peeking out from behind her legs, a small child with wide doe eyes that didn’t seem to stray away from isagi’s.

“isagi don’t you have something to say?” a little nudge at the boys shoulder, he moves forward and stretches out the plate full of cookies.

“welcome to the neighborhood. do you wanna be friends?” pink cheeks and wobbly hands, he wouldn’t have expected the next words to come out of your mouth.

“you have a bean sprout on your head.” isagi didn’t make the first move just to be insulted. he couldn’t help but lower the plate and loudly cry in front of the new neighbors. with snot and tears running down his face, he didn’t hear the scolding your mom gave you, nor did he hear reassurances from his parents. both not being able to take the situation seriously because it was one of isagi’s most prominent features.

and all that could be heard next was your cries and apologies. “m’ sorry. i didn’t mean it in a mean way. i promise. please forgive meeee.” oh if it weren’t for the eardrum shattering wailing from both youngsters, it would’ve made such a cute sight of a new friendship blooming.

but it didn’t stop the the small emotions that started to bud in yoichi’s heart.

from the seed started to sprout at the age of 8.

elementary was not for the weak. it took guts to survive everything everyday. sure isagi knew that at the end of the day, he got to walk home with you right next to him, but that didn’t stop the craziness around him to influence you and your whims. no matter how crazy they were or how ridiculous they sounded.

but nothing could have prepared him for your next thought process at hand.

with talks of kissing and hand holding going around, it didn’t bother the bean sprout at all. not when soccer was all he could think about… and you but that wasn’t anything special when you were always attached at the hip.

“do you ever want to know what kissing feels like?” the soccer ball that was in isagi’s hold was now on the ground rolling away for him.

“no, why would i want to know about that? that’s something you do when you’re older?” he sputters out as if the thought of kissing anyone disturbs him. if only you knew the red tinge that started to creep onto the boy's cheeks, just the thought of your face being so close to his face had his heart beating wildly faster than it normally does.

“every girl in class is kissing boys to see what it feels like. maybe i’ll try it out and see what they’re talking about. do you think if i ask who they kissed and ask them if they could kiss me, they would do it? shouldn’t be too much to ask for, right?” oh it was as if pins and needles were being used to squeeze poor isagi’s heart. he didn’t know why the thought of your face being close to another boys face made his heart squeeze out in pain, but if he could do anything to stop that from happening, then he’ll do it.

“i’ll do it!” red faced full of determination. he wasn’t going to let anyone else take this moment away from him.

“but you just sa-“ now you were confused. first he said he doesn’t care to know but now he does?

“i said i’ll kiss you!” why did you have to keep asking questions?! he thought this is what you wanted?!

even if it meant awkwardly placing his lips on yours….

that had you both reeling back because he accidentally put too much force that had you both knocking teeth together.

the full flurry of questions being launched at you both by your parents wasn’t something either of you wanted to happen right now (isagi’s embarrassment intensifying because he didn’t want to explain what happened and your nonchalant behavior toward this was not letting you admit that even though the kiss hurt it meant more to you that isagi was willing to do it for you cause your stomach to flutter).

leaves and petals didn’t start to grow out until the age of 16.

man was the second year of high school a whirlwind of emotions for isagi.

sure now he knew more about his feelings for you better than what he was questioning after almost making both your lips bleed after that failed first kiss (it still counted for him), but it didn’t make him feel any more secure when he heard all the locker room talk about girls. boys left and right asking him if he could ask you to meet them after school so that they could ask you out. all isagi did was nod, but he never did tell you.

not that you needed to know anyways. or when he noticed admirers slipping letters into your locker, he’d take them out and keep them in his bag. you didn’t need them and he especially didn’t need more competition. all you had to do was enjoy school life without any of these stupid guys trying to take his place (not like they had a chance when all you could think about was the new random last minute plans that isagi made for y’all to visit the burger joint after school).

that didn’t stop the whispers of rumors to linger around.

rumors of you being heartless.

rumors of you not caring for others feelings.

rumors of you leaving people standing alone.

sure they knew that you didn’t have to accept their feelings, but the least you could do was show up to reject them…

until they see the scene in front of them.

walking down the halls to your class, you didn’t pay any mind to the whispers and such that was going around, all you were focused on was giving isagi the attention and encouragement he needed for his most anticipated match this season. the prefectural finals.

ichinan vs matsukaze

you’ve told him time and time again. no matter what happens he’ll always be a winner in your heart, but you know that’s not what he needed right now. he just needed to know that you believed in him and that you know he can win.

and that’s what you did, ignoring the stares and giving your whole attention to him. nothing else mattered more.

and everyone could see that. that’s why no one bothered to confront you when they saw the scene of a blushing boy and his over enthusiastic friend throwing compliment after compliment at him. if they didn’t know any better, they’d think you two were already dating, just trying to keep it private.

and after the long awaited match and the devastating defeat, it was the walk back home that showed just how much he cared for you.

the silence was deafening, and you knew nothing you could say would make him feel better.

but to him, he couldn’t help but feel like he let you down. you believed in him but he couldn’t believe in himself to take the last shot on his own.

the only thing that brought you both out of this silence was the sound of him yelling out in agony, and boy was it soul shattering. here was the boy that worked hard no matter what, only to be stopped by his own what-ifs and uncertainties.

“i wanted to win…” all you could do was pat his back to soothe his pain.

it only lasted for a couple of hours until he got back home.

with the opportunity of a lifetime prompted itself, in the form of a letter, ensuring him that there’s more chances in soccer for him out there.

man he couldn’t wait to tell you about this (so much so that he ran to your house next door to share the news).

the flower of his love bloomed not too long after at the age of 16.

being invited to watch isagi play against the u-20 team with his parents warmed your heart.

you haven’t been able to keep in contact with him during his time in the blue lock program, but that didn’t stop you from continuing to support him with all your might from the outside.

seeing him zoom across the field, make plays you never got to fully see when he would play with his old team, and the all in all happiness that showed itself when he made the winning goal. you couldn’t have been more proud. watching him be interviewed and proclaiming to the world that he will bring home the u-20 world cup.

and it seemed that feelings were still running high because once he saw you he couldn’t help but run to you and press a deep heart filled kiss flat on your lips. with the whole world to see but not giving it a second to stop him from giving him a retry at a first kiss with you.

it meant a lot more when he could feel you pull him closer by his jersey.

letting everyone know just who you belonged to this whole time.

[hongjoongspoetry]

I am so ready for this series to see daylight omg!

I don't even know where to start, to be honest. You really know how to make me feel like I'm in the exact setting as the characters. The warmth of the coffee shop mirroring Mingi's personality when he gives the MC a drink, him checking up on her, the little brush of their fingers, her asking him about his glasses, her fixing his glasses for him — it’s so domestic, but with an undertone of complexity that we are still in the dark about. You don't call someone a friend who would defy gravity for your sake 😭 Also, through the first few paragraphs we can evidently see how good relationship they have, just by them knowing each other's every move, fussing and worrying about one another, it's very cute and I like how you didn't need a whole backstory to capture the weight of their "friendship".

Another thing I love about your stories, your MCs are never dull. They always have interests or occupations that are new or "unusual". I don't think I've ever read a fanfic where the MC makes jewellery for a living (that could just be me not being good at finding fics, but I stand by my words!)

“Buy some butter-flavoured popcorn, I forgot to grab some yesterday.” Mingi nodded as he unlocked the door, playfully tugging on my pinkie when I went to open it. I glanced back with raised eyebrows and he shrugged, looking down to the floor like a kicked puppy. I chuckled and squeezed his pinkie back, pulling my hand away as I finally pushed the door open, “Don’t pout, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Fuck, these two will be the end of me and we're not even that far into the first chapter 😭

She had untameable ginger hair and fiery red lips, her earrings always colourful hoops and her outfit the colours of the rainbow. She was full of energy and life, filling the shop with her radiance much like the sun filled our hearts on a cold winter day. I loved working with her, she saw beauty in everything and offered anyone a chance when they felt useless or good for nothing.

Girl, did you just pull a Stan Lee moment on us and include yourself in your fic? Because if you did, you're a genius and this is amazing 🩷

The whole scene where they are first watching a movie and cuddling together on the couch then making out is so sweet and domestic, and I think it's so funny how the MC refers to Mingi as a good friend. I'm really intrigued on what Mingi's view of this whole relationship/friendship is, and if he sees the MC as a friend too? I doubt it, but I mean, it's still the first chapter so I can't really draw any conclusions. All I know is that the MC has been through stuff and needs time to figure out what she wants/needs on her own, but Mingi is a bubble she can get lost in and not worry about other things. Yet that will probably only hold for so long because she will have to face these things sooner or later, and I wonder what support Mingi will give her then?

A great first chapter, Ari 🩷 I'm really excited to see what the other chapters will have in store for the MC and Mingi. This is just the beginning and I can't wait to see more of their friendship/relationship progress through the chapters. I'm already dying for the domestic setting and couple like exchanges between them, like I need more.

Every time I see you...chapter 1 ↰

...my throbbing heart rate spikes up

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

☆ Warning: none ☆ Word count: 5.3k ☆ Rating: sfw ☆ Genre: slice of life, established situationship, post university setting, fluff ☆ Summary: There was nothing exclusive between the two of you, but somehow you didn't mind being in Mingi's arms, in his presence. A day spent well gets rewarded by a movie night with the person you're the most fond of.

☆ Visuals ☆ 

M.list

A/N: And so, the first chapter is here! It's a slow ease into their relationship, it will pick up as we proceed, I promise. I hope you find it intriguing, let me know what you thought of this part, I'm curious to hear your opinions! I think this is very different from what I usually write, but soft!Mingi is so dear to me that I sob anytime I write for this series LMAO. The Mingi from this story is canon Mingi, and you can't convince me otherwise lol. Next chapter coming next week around this time! ^^ Check out the vision board I made for this story, as well as Giselle's Dopamine song! Taglist is open for the story! Enjoy! ^^ divider

Taglist: @spicxbnny @hongjoongspoetry

🎧 𝘭 𝒹𝜎𝑛’𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝛼 𝓂𝛼𝑛, 𝒿𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝛼𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝜎𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 / Ⴘ𝑒𝛼ℎ, 𝑦𝜎𝑢 ℓ𝜎𝜎𝑘 𝑠𝜎 𝑔𝜎𝜎𝒹 𝑠𝑡𝛼𝑛𝒹𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑒𝘹𝑡 𝑡𝜎 𝓂𝑒 / 𝛮𝑒𝘹𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝘭 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝐷𝜎𝑝𝛼𝓂𝑖𝑛𝑒 / 𝘊𝛼𝑛’𝑡 ℓ𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝜎𝑢 𝑐ℓ𝜎𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝜎 𝓂𝑒 🎧

            The scent of ground coffee was potent as the grinder disturbed the otherwise serene atmosphere of the modest coffee shop, located in the heart of the city, right under a publishing company. Thus, it was famous among bookworms, office workers, or high school students who loved to skip their last class of the day, the school was located just a bit further up on the street. I loved this area because it was always busy, littered with people and various shops on both sides of the boulevard, housing hidden gems and other popular hot spots like the Moon & Stars Coffee Ground coffee shop that Mingi worked at part-time. His back was turned to me as he worked the coffee grinder, his exposed biceps bulging as he screwed the top of the lid back shut, finally stopping the grinder. Silence fell upon the coffee shop once again, giving way to the quiet jazz music playing through the speakers. Mingi had the opening shift today, the shop wasn’t opened yet, but I had a few privileges by being his friend, so, I was allowed in as long as I helped with dusting the tables off and changing the flowers which were withering away in the small, cute, orange vases placed on top of each round table.

The coffee shop was an explosion of colours, the walls painted a deep green with low-hanging retro chandeliers that gave the place a moody vibe even during the day. Plants weren’t scarce either, giving the air inside a much-needed refresh from the polluted air coming from the outside. Abstract paintings hung on the wall from artists even I didn’t know, and the counter I was leaning against was a deep maroon, sturdy and able to withhold a few splashes of the drinks placed atop it. A few delicacies were displayed in the window to my left, most of them were still being baked in the kitchen located straight behind the counter, and I picked at the leaf of the small plant absentmindedly as Mingi’s silver rings collided against the shaker he used to combine different coffee grounds. The sun was just rising on the horizon, coating the inside of the coffee shop in an orange hue, a single sunray falling onto Mingi’s dark brown hair, making it appear lighter than it was. I continued watching him in silence, my eyes still heavy from having woken up not even an hour ago.

The world was still quiet outside, but those who started their jobs early or had to travel longer were out and about, all quiet and not bothering each other as they walked down the sidewalks. The coffee shop had half an hour before it would open, and by that time I would be gone, headed to the store I worked at. We were lucky that our workplaces were relatively close to each other, if we were in a hurry, we could make the walk last roughly ten minutes. The thought of having Mingi just around the corner was comforting for some reason, perhaps knowing that if I texted him that I needed him for something, he’d come running around the corner brought a sense of security with itself. I was used to having Mingi by my side, ready to drop everything if I needed his help or assistance with something. He was a good friend, dependable and trustworthy, loyal beyond what could be considered healthy. I smiled as Mingi lightly swayed his hips to the music, the dark green apron tied around his waist accentuating the tininess of it. The sweet scent of salted caramel made saliva gather in my mouth, and I knew Mingi’s intention before he had even turned around.

“You haven’t dozed off, sleepyhead?” He asked with a chuckle, his voice quiet and a deep rumble in his chest. It had always been like that, gravely with a rasp to it, yet warm in tone and used with gentleness. Mingi wasn’t the type of person to shout, perhaps if he got too excited his voice would raise a few octaves as he was carried away by his exhilaration, always eager to share it with someone as his eyes sparkled like the stars on a clear stary night.

“Not yet,” I answered, chin resting in my palm as Mingi leaned his hip against the counter, searching for the right lid for the cup he held, “It would be a bit difficult while standing up, I’m not like you.”

That made Mingi chuckle as he threw me an amused glance, his heavy and sharp eyes friendly as they crinkled at the ends. He found the right lid for the cup and placed it on top of it, pressing down thrice to make sure he had placed it on correctly. Then, he slowly pushed the warm container towards me and I smiled, accepting the coffee wordlessly. Our fingers brushed together and I felt a rush of warm tingle through my hand, making my smile widen as did Mingi’s, his eyes becoming smaller with the action.

“Thank you,” I muttered as I raised the sweet coffee to my lips, taking a cautious sip since it was still hot. Mingi hummed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and his taut chest muscles pulled at the form-fitting white tee he wore. It was warm inside the coffee shop, but I wondered how his exposed arms weren’t covered in goosebumps yet. My cardigan was warm, yet I didn’t look forward to when I’d have to step outside into the crisp morning air once again. Mingi’s necklaces were nicely layered, his outfit simple but put together with a good eye for fashion, “Did you forget your glasses at home once again?”

Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and he reached up with a hand to touch the bridge of his tall nose, having to check physically that his glasses were missing or not. I shook my head with amusement as I took a small sip of the salted caramel-infused drink, “Seems like you are the sleepyhead.”

“No, it’s here,” Mingi argued, leaning down and reaching forward, arm getting lost in the counter as he felt around for his glasses. His thick eyebrows furrowed, and from his position, they framed his eyes, making his already sharp features sharpen even more. He liked wearing his hair brushed back and out of his eyes lately, the length not quite ready to require a cut, but annoying enough to make Mingi complain about it every once in a while, “See?”

He stood up straight, his height almost intimidating as he leaned forward, shaking the glasses in front of my face before he wore it, the rim thick, boxy, and black. The shape suited his face and softened the intimidating features he was born with, making him look cute. I reached forward, hip digging into the counter, to push the glasses further up on his nose because he had a habit of looking above the glasses instead of through like he was supposed to. Mingi pouted at the action but leaned into my touch, his plush lips jutted out reminding me of our adolescent days when he was nothing but a sulky boy, hating his round-rimmed glasses and always complaining about his school uniform, which didn’t fit him because it was a hand me down. It had taken a few years of maturing for Mingi’s muscles to grow out, strengthened by Pilates, his guilty pleasure as he liked saying. The few classes I accompanied him had me convinced that Pilates was invented for those who craved to have their muscles burning for days, a sort of masochism that I found no joy in.

“You should wear it more often,” I noted, raising an eyebrow as Mingi playfully rolled his eyes, “before your eyesight worsens, of course.”

“Right,” He mock-saluted, leaning just a bit over the counter to be closer to my face, “You’re starting to sound more like my mother each day, Y/N, it’s a bit freaky.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, reaching out to flick his forehead, but he knew me too well and dodged my inoffensive attack in time. But before I could retract my arm, he grabbed my wrist with his large hand and brought it down to the counter, gently keeping it in place as his larger hand caged mine against the surface. It was a small effort to make physical contact and I didn’t hate it, I rather enjoyed the small moments of intimacy we could share freely when it was just the two of us. Mingi was an affectionate person, he didn’t shy away when he needed a hug or just a little bit of support, arms wide open and eyes soft as he batted his long eyelashes at you. I hummed and basked in the peace that enveloped us around, something we both enjoyed on quieter days. There was no need for loudness or boisterous behaviour, we already knew who the other was, and there was no need to show off anything.

“Let me play the role of a concerned mother for a bit longer, then,” Mingi snorted, glancing at the clock on the wall to make sure he didn’t keep the coffee shop closed for longer than the program said, “Did you start your research on your final coursework?”

Mingi liked to stay ahead of his assignment deadlines, but sometimes laziness got to him like to any other person. But he hated having to hurry and half-ass his work so that rarely happened. Unless he was loaded with coursework, his assignments would be handed in weeks before their deadline.

“Yes and no,” Mingi sighed, his soft fingertips gently tracing my skin, “I’m supposed to meet with my coordinator this week so that we agree on a subject, I have too many ideas to choose from and I know he’s not fond of research that goes past the twentieth century.”

I nodded, taking a larger sip of my coffee, I could already feel it rejuvenate me, the sleep was gone from my eyes and my body felt less sluggish. It’s a wonder I even managed to get out of bed today, “And let me guess, you want something that deals with the nineteenth century, huh?”

“You know me too well,” Mingi chuckled with a shake of his head, taking his hand off mine as he reached out, swiping his thumb over the corner of my mouth. I looked down at my cup of coffee and ignored the skip of my heartbeat, my cheeks feeling a bit warmer than before, “Maybe I’ll manage to convince him, who knows…what about your day? Do you have a lot of work to do?”

“Not that much, we got three commissions this weekend for five pieces, I’m hoping to get the larger necklace done today,” I answered, glancing at the clock on the wall, and realised I’d have to leave in five minutes if I wanted to make it to the store before it opened.

“You’re always quick, I’m not worried about it.” Mingi winked with a bit of a struggle and I smiled, humming because I knew he was right. I had been making jewellery for a long time now, I was becoming faster and faster at crafting lately, it was rather a blessing since we could have plenty of orders coming in on busier days.

“I’m going to go now,” I said as I grabbed my bag off the floor, throwing it around my shoulder as Mingi nodded, grabbing the keys to come and unlock the entrance door for me, “Are you coming over tonight?”

“Yeah, want me to bring anything?” Mingi asked as he came around the counter and linked our pinkies together while we walked to the door. I quickly did a mental check if I had everything we’d need for our movie night, then remembered that I was out of popcorn…the most important snack of the night.

“Buy some butter-flavoured popcorn, I forgot to grab some yesterday.” Mingi nodded as he unlocked the door, playfully tugging on my pinkie when I went to open it. I glanced back with raised eyebrows and he shrugged, looking down to the floor like a kicked puppy. I chuckled and squeezed his pinkie back, pulling my hand away as I finally pushed the door open, “Don’t pout, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Mingi hummed as he came to the door and leaned against it as I exited, giving me a small smile, “See you, have an easy day.”

“You too, Mingi.” I waved before turning around to head down the street, which was slowly filling up with cars and people as the city awoke, the sun higher in the sky. I could feel Mingi’s eyes on the back of my head, and I didn’t have to turn around to know he’d stay in the doorway, watching me until I crossed the crosswalk and turned the corner, disappearing from sight. The thought of having someone who cared for my safety and looked out for me wasn’t too bad, but I thrived on my independence and wouldn’t have struggled if Mingi wasn’t so sweet to look out for me. Even so, the lingering warmth in my chest due to his attentiveness wasn’t too disheartening.

            By noon, the city had fully awoken and was bustling with restless people going on about their day. The jewellery store I worked at was on a side street, so, we were away from the rambunctious traffic and the impatient drivers that honked their car’s horns at the smallest inconvenience. That didn’t mean, however, that our store was one filled with quiet and calm, it was quite the opposite if our clients proved to be teenage girls looking for beaded friendship bracelets, or colourful rings with gemstones of which attributes they didn’t know about so they asked me or my boss, who was a lovely lady in the forties. She had untameable ginger hair and fiery red lips, her earrings always colourful hoops and her outfit the colours of the rainbow. She was full of energy and life, filling the shop with her radiance much like the sun filled our hearts on a cold winter day. I loved working with her, she saw beauty in everything and offered anyone a chance when they felt useless or good for nothing.

Her store, much like herself, mirrored the same brightness its owner carried. The walls were a light orange with yellowy rays painted on the opposite wall to the entrance, mimicking the warm sun beaming down on Earth through the clouds. Wooden shelves were set up across from the front desk, framing the walls with quirky designs that held the handmade jewellery we worked on day, and sometimes even at night. The floorboards were a rusty copper, and much to everyone’s surprise upon a first encounter with the store, a gorgeous Persian carpet was laid down with intricate design that just brought the aesthetic of the whole place together. The back room was small and hidden behind a beaded curtain right behind my back, offering a perfect escapade when the day was getting too long and the customers were too demanding. Incense always burned, coating the store in a woody scent that felt refreshing but sometimes nauseating if my boss left it on for too long, the ceiling fan thankfully dispersed the strong scent evenly.

The store wasn’t huge, but it felt inviting even upon one glance, and our customers felt cared for whenever they entered and we listened to their requests closely. Having landed this job was just as random as me deciding one day that I wanted to attend a Fine Arts course, focusing more on crafts and clay making. The few vases I had designed were displayed on the higher shelves where it was harder to reach and accidentally break them, my boss was more than happy to sell those too in her store. We both contributed with a little something of ours to the store and that’s why it worked out so nicely, just two fundamentally different people who enjoyed the same arts were brought together to attempt to make something beautiful and long-lasting.

I was tying the knot to the custom-made bracelet one of the teenagers had asked for when her friend walked up to the front desk, eyebrows furrowed and phone in her hand. She held two crystals in her palm, looking at them sceptically.

“Which one is the rose quartz?” She asked, her voice loud and a little rough as she let the crystals fall onto the glass counter. I glanced down at them and pointed at the clearer one on the left.

“That’s a clear quartz, the other one,” My burgundy nail pointed at the pinkish crystal, “is the rose quartz. Which one are you looking for?”

“Rose quartz,” She answered quickly, pushing at the rose quartz with narrowed eyes, “Is it true that it attracts love? Will I find a boyfriend if I wear it all the time?”

“Depends, are you a Taurus or Libra?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair, my boss was on her break and, meanwhile, she knew more about crystals, I had learned this and that from her throughout the years I’ve worked here.

“Not really…” The girl muttered as she shared a look with her friend, who had taken the bracelet I made for her to try it on. The strings I used were yellow and brown, a nice combination of colours, personally not my favourite, but it worked well with her complexion and it was also what she had asked for.

“Well, I heard it’s better if you have Venus in your chart if you want to wear a rose quartz,” I hummed, looking up at the ceiling in thought before I shrugged, “Rose quartz is good for emotional healing too, not just attracting love. But if you think it will help, you could try it out…”

“Do you believe it works?” The girl asked, her eyes just slightly widening. I chuckled, deciding to be honest with her.

“No, but that’s just me. Maybe it’ll work for you.” The girl just nodded, looking at her friend for another opinion. She just shrugged and told the girl to do whatever she wished. Their third friend walked up to the counter and told them that she wouldn’t buy anything today, so they could head out if everyone was ready to leave.

“I’ll buy it.” The girl said as she placed the crystal on the counter and I nodded, grabbing a small plastic wrap for her to store it in until she got home. I scanned the items and told the two girls the price of their purchase, watching them with amusement as they left the store in a hurry, words leaving their mouths in a hurry before they were even out of the store. I settled back into my chair and grabbed my bottle of water to take a gulp, my fingers aching just slightly from the various jewellery I had managed to make until now. The shop was rather busy today and my boss was excited as she whirled around, helping customers out with choosing items for themselves or as gifts.

My phone pinged before I could reach for it, and Mingi’s name lit up my screen as I unlocked it. I tapped on our messaging app and opened our conversation, gasping quietly when I was presented with a picture of a black and white spotted cat, emerald eyes staring curiously into the camera, head tilted to the side in wonder. Its ears were pointed backwards and I could practically hear Mingi cue at it. He loved kittens more than anything and had always wished to buy one, but he thought he was too busy right now to care for another little life besides his.

Mingi: Look how cute she is!! I’ve been feeding her for two weeks now, I’m 100% sure she knows who I am. I’ve named her Genie, isn’t she just so adorable? Me: Man, she really is adorable! I wish she was around when I’m at the shop, pet her in my place too! Genie because she grants wishes?

Mingi: Not more adorable than me, right?? I bet she’d love you too…but I’m her favourite, I just know it. I wanted to name her Greenie at first, but that felt weird. Genie, however, isn’t too bad. No reason for why I gave her that name, though… Me: I think she might be more adorable than you, Mingi��� Wait until she meets me, you won’t be her favourite anymore, mister… Your mind sometimes is a mystical place, Mingi, I wonder what goes on inside of it

Mingi: Well, right now I’d like to be in your arms sitting on the couch or something… Something like…being the little spoon because I fall asleep faster when you wrap yourself around me… That’s what I’m thinking about right now instead of making sure I don’t burn the next batch of apple pies, do you want me to put some aside for tonight? Me: You are so cheesy, Mingi, anyone else would block you… I knew you liked being the little spoon, now I even have receipts of it, hah! I had muffins yesterday, so no thank you! Now stop texting and focus on your work, man. Mingi: Right, see you later, woman. Muawh

I chuckled and shook my head, setting my phone to the side with a smile on my face as I opened the new email we had gotten while I was texting Mingi. Seems like the week just started and we’d barely have any time to breathe between all these commissions.

            My living room was covered in darkness aside from the flashing lights of the TV, the movie playing at an acceptable volume to not disturb the neighbours or deafen us. The blanket was fluffy and draped over our legs, mine pulled underneath me while Mingi’s were propped up on the coffee table. His legs were long enough to reach it if stretched out, and I might have envied him for that for a long time. Our hands were intertwined underneath the blanket and placed on Mingi’s thigh, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing against my knuckle every once in a while. Our shoulders brushed together and I would shift around from time to time, to try and keep my ass from going sore. Mingi, on the other hand, had no issue keeping his initial posture for hours on end. The blackout curtains were drawn together to offer us privacy since I only lived on the second floor, and the butter-flavoured popcorn Mingi had brought had been long eaten.

We had been watching the movie in silence for over an hour now with the occasional commentary coming from Mingi about how cool Captain America was. No matter how many times we’ve seen this movie, it never got old or boring. Perhaps it was Chris Evans’ face that made the viewing more pleasurable, alongside Scarlett Johanson, but we were both pretty hooked on the plot despite knowing what came next. There were small easter eggs that we hadn’t noticed before, so there was always something new that one of us accidentally discovered during our rewatches. I felt warm all cosied up next to Mingi, a bit even sleepy as his familiar cologne eased my tense muscles after the long day I’d had. My wrists were sore from all the crafting at the store today, I had even brought home a bracelet that I had to finish for tomorrow. I was too tired to work on it now, but I could thankfully get it done in the morning in thirty minutes.

As if Mingi had read my thoughts, he grabbed my wrist with both hands and slowly started rubbing it, creating heat and gently massaging the tense muscles of my hand. I smiled and playfully grabbed at his fingers, making him chuckle under his breath as the Winter Soldier appeared on the screen for the first time, the car the characters had been using now nothing but a mess of scrapes. I could see Mingi angle his body towards mine from my peripheral, and he licked his plump lips before he cleared his throat.

“I’ve been thinking…” He started quietly, his forehead slightly creasing as his eyes bled into the side of my head. I turned my head away from the TV, familiar with the scene already. The light lit up Mingi’s face, his glasses creating a tiny shadow over his face as I raised my eyebrows at him to prompt him to continue, “So, we’ve both been working hard, and I could use a vacation before my last exams come up. I know I should be studying, but at this point, I feel like I could recite any textbook you hand me, I really need a break. You’ve also been working a lot, and you didn’t take vacation off last year, so…”

I hummed, curious as to where this was headed, “So?”

“Let’s get away for a few days, I’ve been looking for a nice little cabin somewhere in the mountains. Not too far though, I know you don’t like long car rides.” Mingi grabbed my other hand and started massaging that one too, making me sigh in contentment as my hands now tingled with warmth, the tenseness gone from them.

“Just the two of us?” I raised an eyebrow, the idea actually sounded appealing. I could use a break from the hustle and bustle of the city.

“Yeah, just us.” Mingi nodded, smiling a little as I contemplated his offer for a second. I would have to visit my mother before we left, and I’d have to let my boss know in time, but other than that, it sounded like a plan to me.

“Sure, I’d love that.” I smiled and Mingi’s eyes lit up, fingers intertwining with mine as he squeezed our hands together. I chuckled at his excitement and let my eyes run over his face, taking in the softness in his eyes and the curve of his gorgeous mouth. Something in my gut coiled as my hands continued tingling with electricity, and I licked my lips as I leaned forward, eyes set on Mingi’s parted lips. He mirrored my actions and leaned forward, closing the distance between us confidently. His lips were warm as always and faintly tasted like the marshmallows he kept stuffing himself with not even half an hour ago, another guilty pleasure he seemed to have. This one, however, I could understand and even support.

Our bodies leaned closer as I raised my free hand to hold his jaw, tilting his head slightly back so that our lips pressed together a bit firmer. Kissing him always brought a wave of excitement, an electrifying spark running up my spine as our lips moved languidly, taking their time since there was no reason to hurry. He was sweet and gentle even with his kisses, always allowing me to set the pace as his teeth nipped at my bottom lip, his long nose digging into my cheek. Mingi wasn’t a messy kisser but he had never shied away from a little saliva, and there was nothing he loved more than tracing his tongue against mine, sucking on it to deepen the kiss even more as he brought me halfway into his lap. Our hands parted as I grabbed his shoulder and swiped my tongue against his, a content sigh catching in the back of Mingi’s throat as his hand pressed into the small of my back, warm and burning through the fabric of my thin blouse. I could never get tired of his lips, sometimes kissing Mingi was so disorienting that we’d lose track of time, our lips almost as if glued to each other.

Inhaling through my mouth, I let Mingi press small kisses to my chin and mouth, muttering something I couldn’t understand before I captured his lips again, adding just a bit more passion into it as I felt a suffocating emotion build in my chest, heavy and demanding as if having Mingi like this wasn’t good enough. I had always craved more despite having everything I could ask from him, it seemed that I hadn’t been fully satiated just yet. It was a peculiar feeling, but I couldn’t ignore the fire and knot in my stomach anymore as he lapped at my tongue, his fingers gently holding my jaw as if he was afraid I’d slip away. Tonight was a slow evening, I was content with being in his arms, content in wrapping myself in a cocoon of safety that helped me forget the hardships the day had brought with itself. Pulling apart, I pressed a chaste kiss against his swollen lips and cradled his cheek, feeling how warm it was. Before I could completely pull back and sit back next to him, Mingi grabbed my arm as he readjusted himself on my spacious couch, opening his legs up so that I could sit between them. I climbed over his leg and settled down, adjusting the blanket around us so that it would keep his legs warm too as Mingi’s arms wrapped around my torso, nose nuzzling into my nape as he exhaled loudly.

“Do you think Natasha and Steve should’ve ended up together?” He asked quietly, mumbling it into my skin, and I laughed, looking back at the TV.

“I think they were too different for it to work out, and Steve was still in love with Peggie,” I answered truthfully, watching Chris Evans lean against the doorframe in nothing but a muscle white tee, a few bruises here and there, jeans, and a white towel to clean his hands in.

“I think Natasha would’ve been able to show him a new world, I wanted them together.” I didn’t have to look to know that Mingi was pouting, I could hear it in his voice.

“You say that every time we watch this movie.”

“Right, my thoughts won’t change on a random afternoon.”

I chuckled as silence fell upon us once again, wrapped around in the blanket and Mingi’s warmth, with his arms around my body, I felt the safest. It was a weird feeling that never developed into something I could completely understand, but there was something about Mingi’s presence that made me feel at ease, like the earth outside us would keep on turning around its axis and we wouldn’t miss out on anything because here, in each other’s arms, we had everything we needed. It was something I had never felt with anyone else, not even with my ex-boyfriend I thought I would end up marrying. There was something so gentle about the silence between Mingi and me, the understanding without spoken words, the warmth of a simple caress, the reminder that we were there for each other by the simplest things only made my chest tighten as the TV screen blurred, making me wonder whether I had gotten teary-eyed or just extremely sleepy.

Here in Mingi’s arms, in a dark living room lit up by the movie that we were watching for the nth time, I wondered if I could ever again trust that love existed, trust that there was indeed a person that was yours, meant to be with you without hurting you. I wondered if Mingi ever thought about it, if he wondered where his person was. Perhaps he didn’t care about such things and that’s why he wasted his days away by my side, smiling from ear to ear with glimmering eyes full of hope and something I could never truly understand. I grinned when I felt his feet rub against mine playfully, it was his way of letting me know that he wasn’t so lost in the movie that he wasn’t aware of me anymore. I sighed and relaxed into Mingi’s body, letting the doubtful thoughts and feelings simmer in a deep cavern of my heart for the rest of the evening.

 >> next chapter

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[frostbiteisthenewjackieshauna]

Hiiii, can you please write your dating shauna hc please? thank youuu 🤓

shauna shipman my cutiepie!! (sfw, pre crash/no crash!au)

Lemme take it from the top

she’s wayyy too shy to ask you out

she kind of eyes you all the time and can barely pay attention in classes that you have together

and Jackie bugs her to just ask you out!!

what’s the worst that could happen? you saying no?

but that is what she feared most

yearning was something she did great, and she’d rather do that then deal with rejection, so she just stays quiet

which does turn out to be very difficult once your history teacher assigns seats to everyone

and just her luck, she’s right next to you!!

believe me, paying attention was hard at first too, but now it’s downright impossible

that’s why she starts doing worse in history

which is surprising, she’s a straight A student

so the teacher gives her a tutor

you!

your guys’ first tutoring session was awkward as hell

you thought she was rude (even though she never seemed that way to you) since she barely talked or memorized anything you said

or tried to teach her

she’s a little embarrassed too, it’s usually her that tutors others

however with a big push from Jackie she does apologize, saying she’s always weird around new people

which is true, but this was a bit different, definitely

still, the tutoring gets funner and less dreaded, and it ended pretty fast- as soon as Shauna broke the ice with you, she could finally pay mind to class

and you two do become friends

you’re one of her only friends, really

until she blurts it out while you were having coffee

“I mean I do like you. Not as a friend.”

she said, trying to convince you she was joking

it was obviously not supposed to come out, but you guys were rambling about falling in love with friends

and she YAPPED

which made that thought that was supposed to stay buried deep come out

and you went through with it until the rest of the date hangout

and then kissed her before getting out of her car

it was a hurried peck, neither of you being all that experienced

she gave you those eyes.

you know the ones.

which made you kiss her again

I mean how could you not??

this time it was deep and passionate, and it turned into a full blown makeout session with you in her lap

the kind of sesh that you both enjoyed so much you felt no need to go further

after that day, she was officially your girlfriend!! yay!!

“I’ve wanted to make you mine for a long time.” you said

“You- yeah uh, sure! Of course, yeah, yours.”

you and Jackie became total besties, playfully making fun of Shauna together

you probably heard Jackie saying “Get a room!” more then any other words in history

but on a serious note, you knew how important their friendship was and made no effort to get in the way of it

but Shauna just wanted to be around you always

calls you over to just chill and do nothing

she just relishes being in your presence, no matter what you do or who else you’re with

short lil makeout sessions while waiting for Jackie to emerge from the house when you go to pick her up for school in the morning

also I cannot stress this enough: wearing. her. flannels.

she has a bizarre amount of them

and she notices that they keep going missing…

doesn’t even try to ask for them back, because she melts as soon as she sees you in one

plays you her “weird” music

is ecstatic when you end up liking it

baking together!!

i have a feeling she’s an amazing baker

you guys do it for fun, to try out recipes or sometimes for charity!!

in the beginning she only lets you measure dry ingredients but relents as soon as you pout

most of your dates are intimate like that

she loves being personal, maybe not secret but does like privacy

not big on PDA at all

the most she’ll do is hold your hand

back to date night though

since dating you, she got so much closer to Tai and Van because you keep going to double dates!!

omg Tai and you listening to them ramble about their nerdy shit

it’s so cute really, you guys shoot each other knowing looks across the table

other then them, you meet all of the team

but still, Tai, Van, and Jackie stay your favorites (other then Shauna obviously)

also! half her journal entries are about you

how pretty you looked, something you’d told her, writes down little details of the stories you tell her that she knows you’d appreciate her knowing

she’s completely devoted to you, and can do nothing to help it

(you feel the same way)

and you love how cute and shy she is around you

especially in the beginning

but later on, she can be more then bold, trust

overall, dating Shauna would be super soft and intimate in every way shape and form

it’s not all that thrilling, but cozy and comfortable

[kacievvbbbb]

i do love how one of the main themes of spy family is motherhood, and the emphasis that there’s no wrong way as long as you show love. i also love how it treats its more “feminine” characters like becky, it doesn’t feel to me like the series is laughing at her for being girly, the humour is from the juxtaposition of her and anya, or because she takes it way too far (her thirsting for loid)

it’s a low bar, but spy family is good at having women who feel like people lol

Yes! I completely agree with this! I like how the series expands on what it means to be feminine even within the tight constraints of the society they live in. Most of the female characters are infact just people. even the less "hyper-feminine" ones like Martha and Yor and even Anya still have very feminine hobbies and such they just arent constrained to them. And I agree about Becky it feels like the joke is less haha she's a girly girl and that's lame and more she 6 but she's trying to pretend she's this high society woman and that's adorable not because of the things she cares about like romance and fashion are intrinsically ridiculous but because she speaks with so much authority on them and is trying to educate a gremlin and she's six. Anya doesn't necessarily like the same things as Becky but that's never stopped them from having fun. A big part of Becky is that she always stands up for herself, her beliefs, and Anya. She is literally a day 1 you can't speak badly about Anya in her presence. I love her I love their friendship it's great. But yeah the strength of mothers does seem to be a recurring theme in the manga and I like that. It's in Loid's memories of his mother, Yor trying to be a good one and, Melinda Desmond trying to overcome her own fears for the sake of her children, the handler and her yet-to-be-revealed past. Spy x Family focuses a lot on the connections we form with people and just how those connections give us strength and its really beautiful and fitting that the threat always on the horizon is war because nothing else tears apart family and connections like war and how every character in their own way is fighting for the right for people (not just the ones they love) to make those connections freely even if it means they are excluded. It's a really good story.

[yvaineseleneposts]

Love me like a friend

Requested: no

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Words: 604

Warning(s): none

The snow fell softly over Newark, blanketing the city in a quiet hush. (y/n) pulled her coat tighter around herself as she walked toward the arena, her heart pounding against her ribs. She shouldn’t be here, but she couldn’t stay away—not from him.

Nico Hischier stood near the players' entrance, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on her.

"(y/n)," he said, his voice carrying that familiar warmth that always made her weak.

"Hey," she whispered, unsure of what to say, unsure of why she had come.

They had been everything but what she truly wanted. Late-night talks, easy laughter, lingering glances—he was her constant, her closest friend. But that’s all they had ever been. Friends.

Except it had never been enough.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his breath visible in the cold air.

(y/n) hesitated, biting her lip. "I don’t know. I just... I needed to see you."

A long silence stretched between them, the kind that carried unspoken words and unanswered questions.

Nico sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "(y/n), you know how much you mean to me. But—"

"But not like that," she finished for him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He didn’t answer, and maybe he didn’t need to. The truth was already there, hanging between them like the snowflakes that refused to settle.

(y/n) took a step back, exhaling shakily. "I should go."

Nico reached for her hand, just for a second, as if he wasn’t ready to let go. But then he did.

She turned and walked away, knowing that loving him like a friend was the only way she could keep him. Even if it broke her heart.

(y/n) walked through the snowy streets, her breath coming in short puffs. She wanted to believe that leaving was the right choice, but her heart ached in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She pulled out her phone, staring at their old messages, the ones filled with inside jokes and late-night confessions. The warmth of their friendship had been everything, yet it felt hollow now.

She had almost reached the subway when she heard hurried footsteps behind her. Turning, she found Nico, slightly out of breath, his cheeks pink from the cold.

"(y/n), wait."

She froze, her pulse racing. "Nico, you don’t have to—"

"I do," he interrupted, stepping closer. "I don’t want to lose you."

She shook her head, sadness pooling in her eyes. "You’re not losing me, Nico. You never have. But I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t hurt. I can’t keep being just your friend when my heart wants more."

His jaw tightened, the weight of her words settling over him. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I never knew how to be without you."

(y/n) let out a small laugh, one tinged with exhaustion. "Then maybe it’s time you figure that out."

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it wasn’t filled with unsaid things—it was filled with realization. They had been dancing around their feelings for so long that neither of them knew how to step away without falling apart.

Finally, Nico reached out, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "(y/n), if I asked you to stay, would you?"

She swallowed hard, her heart warring with her mind. "Only if you mean it."

He searched her face for a long moment before nodding. "I do."

And maybe, just maybe, this time, they wouldn’t let fear get in the way of what was meant to be.

[sideblogdotjpeg]

Extremely small spoilers for the c3 ending warning

But I think a really fun bit of Sol's character that I kinda didn't notice until the final episode is that ever since Irondeep (or maybe even before?), Sol has just been learning how to sew and crochet. And I have extreme respect for Murph letting Sol use that knowledge in the final episode to redistribute the magic of his displacement cloak amongst the party. I just really love those kinds of small character details in fantasy - the hobby they pick up randomly that slowly becomes more and more of a skill as the story progresses.

YES ! sols background knitting/crochet hobby (theyre used kind of interchangeably) is one of my favourite little quirks of his to think about... and if you keep track of its offhanded mentions, it actually weaves (hehe) a really sweet mini-story about sols character !

(teeny tiny mini essay under the cut, because i. have. thoughts)

so! a minor um actually is that sols knitwork is actually brought up pretty much at the VERY start of his character intro;

"...I'm wearing a homemade sweater that is in the same pattern as the standard issue synth knight sweater, but that one didn't fit me, so ive crafted my own as a replica - the sleeves are a little long, i'm still working on it, i like to knit in my spare time to quell my thoughts a bit..." (ep 1)

so we establish 1) he likes to knit, 2) knitting is an almost meditative practice, a very physical-based method of dealing with his thoughts, 3) he wants to fit in with his cohort of synth knights, even though their 'standard' has excluded and rejected him 4) he takes on this rejection without any bitterness, and instead with an optimism that his own personal inadequacies can be overcome by trying his darn best, 5) he's a cute frog in an oversized sweater

it's a pretty small & overall NOT important line that doesn't mean anything, but you COULD interpret it as the introductory, basic threads of meditative practice, community, belonging and identity that return as pretty major elements in sol as a character!

other, pretty major encounters with the knitting/sewing motif:

ep 7: Callie "we're sort of entwined now, right? i mean, our fates are somewhat braided at this point" + sol "if you're saying that we're friends then yes!" (this isn't a sol knitting moment, but good GOD 'our fates are braided' + them later discovering they're peregrine + sol sewing peregrine patches - we LOVE unintentional foreshadowing)

ep 27: Before the king durretar fight, sol gives everyone a peice of black yarn to wrap around their arms, a symbol of the living will they made to each other. Later in the ep, he holds up the band just before he goes down

ep 39: Right before he leaves to return to irondeep, sol gives swag "a little bracelet of yarn, just so we can feel connected" (literally FUCKING RUINOUS when you think about this being THE LAST TIME THEY SEE EACH OTHER FACE TO FACE and all the other moments sol gives his loved ones threads/bracelets. god. actually ruinous)

ep 53 (short rest!): This requires maybe a bit of context... but essentially, its caldwell describing sol's conflict of wanting to save the people he loves VS the growing reality of his inability to do so as, "no matter how big and thick and fluffy a sweater he knits, it always unravels itself"

ep 57: sol plants a piece of thread on the two ice swags (red and purple) as a way to tell them apart

ep 61: sol takes the black band from the king durretar fight and weaves it into a design that he made of the peregrine symbol/callie's sigil so that they can all wear it as a team (and one for a squire too, of course!)

ep 72: sol shreds his displacer scarf & patches up everyone's track jackets with it, to share the protection magic (this does end up saving calder's life i think.... THAT'S THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP BABY.)

finally, also in ep 72: galactic swag returns the night sky to the faewild, and sol comments "now that's knitting..."

I think. All in all. It's like. sol is this guy who, perhaps more than anything else, longs for family, home & community. He found this in launchpad and mothership, and their promise that if he could just work hard enough to prove that he meets their standards, then he CAN fit in and be worthy, and belong, and be part of something big. And over the course of campaign 3, he finds this with duck team.

All these desires for connection are expressed through the small things he knits for the people he loves. It keeps coming up over and over again, sol trying to stitch pieces of himself into his friends. Have this yarn, and this thread, and this bracelet, so you can remember you have someone to fight for and someone fighting for you (i have THOUGHT about this being kind of like a Lady's favor to a knight.... i've THOUGHT about this...) In ep 39, he gives swag a mushroom with the stated purpose that it might let sol know if swag dies. In ep 41, he tells hardwon that "there haven't been many people that I've met that have stuck around and meant something to me". I think you could interpret.... sol's habit of giving little knit gifts to his friends as maybe kind of a manifestation of that worry. that people are going to leave him, and he's going to end up alone again. so the thread of the living will comes back over and over again... no matter where you are, dead or alive, we'll be connected somehow.

You can also interpret all of this in the context of his childhood! in the waterpark ! A place where he was cold, and in danger all the time, and alone, and nobody made any 'big and thick and fluffy' sweaters for him. That the way he responds to this is... by making sure the people that he loves never ever have to feel like that. Here's something to keep you warm, and to remind you that i Know you, I Think of you, and i Love you. Sol just wants to protect all his friends by knitting them up in a big comfy sweater (and by the finale, in a way, he does!)

anyway ! those are my um. my. very minor thoughts about sol & knitting. i think about it a normal amount i promise. it is really REALLY a very fun bit about his character and it is. wonderful to see it evolve over the campaign.

Also since I accidentally went whole hog and wrote a full essay. Um. more sol knitting mentions that I personally find very delightful, although less relevant to this specific analysis:

Ezry arc: "i haven't had a chance to knit in a while, that really mellows me out" < sol's explanation for nearly punching a salamander to death because he kind of reminded him of a completely different salamander guy who had the audacity to go to the movies with albin, once. Really cute because awww he knits to mellow out. and also. god sol is fucking Insane. frog who is for sure possessive a normal and healthy amount

Living Woods arc: the living woods arc has sooo many cute lil sol knitgifts. sol gives calder a reversible beanie that has the initials CK (for calder kilde) and KC (for kalder cilde)... he says he was making it for calders birthday! (i didn't check this particular moment for accuracy, but i DO rmb calder saying smthn to the effect of "this is the nicest thing anyone's ever got for me") ..... this also has the famous callie crochet bra + i THINK sol's knit boots for calder

Irondeep arc: sol makes the infamous knit hammer cover with pompoms for kenna. (he later also makes i think.. a cloth for kenna to clean her hammer? he's trying guys....)

Tsunare arc: callie asks sol to make a gunk bindle

Ice knife arc: EVERYBODY IS REALLY MEAN TO SOLS KNITTING. SOMEBODY DEFEND HIM HE DOESNT DESERVE THIS....

Faewild arc: after calder gives himself a crop top , "i will Happily be your tailor"

Conclusion? this frog loves his friends!!!!!

[junedenim]

2013

beneath the boardwalk, part 11 (series masterlist)

do i wanna know?

warnings: depression & desperation

word count: 3.7k

I moved in with Jackson at the end of January. It was sudden and maybe too soon, but I liked Jackson and his place. I had known him long enough and slept (plain old sleeping) with him long enough to know I could live with him. I felt I had grown out of my old apartment. I had expanded so much like I had eaten a Wonderland cookie that the windows were bursting, shattering glass onto the street, and cutting into me.

It was a form of self-harm that unfortunately hurt Jackson in the process as well. I felt early on in living together that we weren't perfect matches. We didn't talk very often about unrelated things, only ourselves. My narcissistic tendencies were often inflicted on him, but he did the same to me, something I didn't mind because we rarely saw one another, only at nighttime.

It didn't help that he was still my agent. I shunned myself from writing a memoir again because there were unavoidable subjects that would expose me to him in unkind ways. I began writing short stories, thinking I would make a collection of them. Jackson found the idea to be dumb but was polite enough not to phrase it like that.

I started to think about my death in horrible ways. I was convinced I'd get pushed onto the subway tracks. I started seeing my dead grandmother around New York and thought I had developed schizophrenia. I wrote a story about it and labelled it as fiction. Jackson called it "depressing" and found it to read like a science fiction mess. Both were true and criticism I could take back when he was my agent, but not as my boyfriend.

I told Fennel and Kaka about the problem and they told me to go see a therapist. I didn't until I got so high one night that I was convinced I was going to jump out the window by accident. Dr. Varma was thirty, blonde, and had these ugly side bangs. The day after my first session I had Opal cut bangs, full-frontal ones, into my hair. They turned out rather well for someone who has unstoppable shaky hands. I got put on an SSRI, which stumped my creativity until I got used to it around March.

I thought about moving back to London but only ever told Dr. Varma this because I figured it would hurt every New Yorker I knew. In general, things felt aimless. Winter tends to have that effect on me. It's consuming and feels like my stomach has a parasite on it and my brain is being squashed between someone's hands. I was also 26, anxious, and terrified by the thought that I was suddenly going to be 27 that year.

It feels anti-feminist to say a man made everything make sense, so, I'm not going to say that, but certain people make everything make sense. Even though Alex and I didn't talk much, the thought that he'd be 27 too made things feel less troubling. Things made sense in his mum's car driving in circles. 

I don't mean to discourage the power of my friends in this process. Opal comforted me more than anyone. I was often disillusioned with how the start of the year had turned out, mostly with my relationship with Jackson, and despite her close friendship with him, she was always understanding. She never pushed ideas on me. Never toward breaking up or staying together. She felt like Dr. Varma sometimes, her words pointing me in a certain way, but I never had to pay her for it. I always knew she just wanted the best for me.

One evening, we watched The Sound of Music and I cried in her arms while Christopher Plummer sang Edelweiss. I declared Captain Von Trapp would be my husband. I sounded the same way I did when I was 6 but he sang with a tenderness I love so dearly to this day. I found comfort in childish things. I realized how disconnected I had become from that part of my life, with the people who gave me life, the land I grew up in, and how much of a tailspin every chapter had felt. The most normal I had ever felt had been 10 years ago. It belonged in a world I never knew.

I knew I had to get out of New York.

*

I bought a plant in February. One that doesn't need much attention and can sit on your windowsill for a year at a time and not die. It made the act of having a plant a lot less beautiful but I felt like a proper starting point for taking care of things, including myself.

During this time, Jackson and I were still together. We would break up in April where I would be accused of using him, something I did partially do. For a long time after I felt ashamed of that because Jackson had been a person who had changed my life, brought my happiness, and had a beautiful friendship. Our relationship began out of insecurity of my singledom but was also built on the foundations of those traits.

I did use Jackson, but in the same way everyone uses a relationship to fulfill a part of their life. If I didn't need a use for him then we wouldn't have been together. However, I admittedly did use him as a rebound, something I confessed to him when I started going to therapy.

Jackson and I didn't talk much about anything other than ourselves, so we never got to the topic of what we wanted from a relationship. I never had any intentions of marrying Jackson, not to say he had any with me either, but he took it a lot more seriously than I did. Frankly, I didn't take anything seriously and that was starting to scare me.

I had maintained the difficulties of a romantic relationship with near-consistency from the age of 18 to 25, which is particularly rare in the 21st century, especially two people like Alex and I. I took my work seriously during that time and when the relationship fell apart, almost everything else fell to the side.

The proper levels for taking things seriously I'm not sure of, but for me, I didn't feel like I showed up, other than with Opal and Jackson. The only two other people I was as close with were an older gay couple that fed me once a week. I was dependent on everyone. Opal went through a lot of shit in 2012 that I disappeared away from and took Jackson with me. I knew I did it but I was too ashamed to make a change or even say sorry for it. Yet, she took our friendship seriously and still showed up for me.

I decided that after my birthday I would take a trip to upstate New York. I picked dates I knew Jackson couldn't accompany me and rented a car. I wanted to be alone. When I told Opal this she asked me if I wanted company. I thought I didn't need it but her question made me realize that what I desired most was genuine socialization.

Even though she hates suburbia and hiking, Opal came with me.

We drove for four hours up to Watkins Glenn. Opal drove us the first two hours out of the city and I drove the remaining four to our hotel, The Colonial Inn & Creamery. Creamery meaning it had a built-in ice cream parlour, which saved us from many late-night snack runs.

The State Park, which was the main reason I went, had these gorgeous waterfalls. Since it was early spring and the air held a slight drizzle, the park was fairly empty. We stopped at the gorge, right where the water falls down, not in some rushing force, but just like that drizzle of rain that surrounded us on a work up to it. It was gradual before forming a small lake at our feet. I squatted, dipping my hand in, and patting the cold water on my face.

"Should we take a break here?" I asked Opal, who was standing beside me.

She loudly sighed, "Yes. Please!" She sat beside me and took chapstick out of her purse. "It's very beautiful," she said while placing it on. "Thank you for taking me."

I smiled over at her. She wasn't elegantly dressed, something out-of-the-order for her. She looked tired from the walking and her jeans were dirty at the bottom cuffs. She placed her arms on her legs and I felt calm. "Thanks for coming with me," I said. 

We didn't talk after that. We had talked the whole trail and we had many words left to say but we watched the water drizzle down the stone, not a sound made.

She stood and began taking pictures. She had begun dabbling in photography at the end of last year when her boyfriend bought her a camera. (Is that a gift most boyfriends get their girlfriends?). I took out my notepad, small and dainty, and a gift from Jackson.

I drew the waterfall. It was two circles to signify the gorge with a bunch of lines cracking down the middle. On the next page, I wrote, Eroding for a billion years until, one day, water spilled out, and here I am now looking at it. How many paths were walked until the water found this one? I'm not good a poetry, clearly, but it was a respectable description of what my mind was ticking through. I found it to be dumb, even when writing it, but paired with the awful drawing I had drawn and more importantly the photo Opal took of me sitting on the rocks, just me and the water. All together it embodied a piece of me.

On our way back to the hotel we bought peach Schnapps. We drank it while we flicked through the television. It undeniably felt like two kids who broke into their parents' liquor cabinet. We each sat on our individual queen-sized beds and I turned to Opal across the gorge that divided us and said, "I think you're my sister."

She giggled while swallowing, trying to keep all the fluid in. I could tell she almost said something snarky but she softened by the time she could speak. She was an only child and she said to me, "Yeah. It feels that way for me too."

*

After Jackson and I broke up, I briefly lived with Fennel and Kaka while I tried to figure everything out. I was writing more ever since Watkins Glen and Jackson, through his kindness and belief in me, set me up with a different agent. There was no promise to be friends, but we knew we'd run into one another again, especially because of Opal. We ended amicably and he helped me move out. We hugged each other goodbye and I didn't see him for a while after that.

I heard Arctic Monkeys would be headlining Glastonbury again around this time. The announcement had been made weeks prior but I hadn't paid much attention to any news, let alone my other ex-boyfriend. I sent an email to Alex because we were old losers who still primarily communicated through it. If Alex ever got Facebook I think we would still be communicating on it to this day.

In the email, I apologized for not sending my congratulations sooner and that I was excited about the next album. On the whole, it sounded sterile and formal. It came off as something a person he’s never met would send as congratulations in hopes he’d throw some money their way.

Alex politely wrote back a thank you and then asked if I had suffered a stroke because I used “your” when I should have used “you're.” I wrote back how I was rolling around in embarrassment from the thought of it alone. He wrote back a note of laughter. After that, things were dry and I didn't hear from him until June.

*

When the band headlined Glastonbury that year, I didn't watch. You can't get the BBC stream in America, which was beneficial for my well-being. I had decided to move on and not be so absorbed with him. Something I never really did. He was hard to avoid.

I had thought the moment I moved out of the apartment Alex and I used to share that all old wounds would feel healed. I had thought leaving New York City would dissipate all the aches in my bones. Every absence was fleeting. However, I needed to go somewhere that didn't feel so loud.

I settled in New Lebanon, New York for two weeks. It was cooler than the heated cemented city. The house I stayed in was an old sawmill with a garden and stream nearby. Since I was staying there alone, I only had make-believe to keep me company. It wasn't the healthiest but it made for good writing.

It also forced me to learn how to cook because there were very few places to eat. Alex called me when I was in the middle of making pasta. I had just gotten a new phone (my first iPhone, the 5) and had yet to transfer all the contacts. 

I picked it up and felt like an old lady with my inability to pick up the call. "Hello. Who is this?"

I knew it from the chuckle alone. "We've really fallen out enough that you don't remember my name."

"Oh." I embarrassingly laughed. "Hey, you. I've just gotten a new phone. It's Apple. The new one. I'm feeling very posh right now. I'm cooking dinner."

"You're cooking?" It's like we had skipped thirty chapters. I had broken up with my boyfriend, started therapy, temporarily moved out of New York City, learned to cook, got a new phone, and learned how to do a cartwheel since we last talked. I had yet to register all of it too.

"Yeah. I've got a house too. Well, temporarily. I'm in New Lebanon, New York. It's a writing retreat. A personal one with no other writers."

"That sounds nice. You've always liked seclusion. You've got chickens too?"

"No. It's making me want to get a dog. Or a cat. Or maybe a cow. You'd hate it here."

"Why?"

"It's quiet. You're alone with your thoughts the whole time."

"Yeah. I would hate it." He grew quiet, like he believed I could read his thoughts across the call line. I probably could. Something along the lines of terror and isolation. He wracked through so much and tried to bleed the rest of it out.

I switched. "It's also home to the Shaker movement."

"What's that?"

"It's these Christians that don't have sex so they don't have babies and they've pretty much all died out but three. I've been to the museum here way too many times because there's nothing else to do."

"You thinking of joining?" He posed.

It would make for an interesting experience. If I ever ran out of topics to talk about I might vow to the Shakers in hopes of getting another book out of it. "At this rate, I might as well. Everyone is either married or dying out here." 

"You can't do that,” he insisted. “It would be a loss to humanity."

"Me having sex?" It was crossing a line. He had a girlfriend and was my ex-boyfriend and I was lonely and thinking about taking a lifelong vow of celibacy. 

He avoided. "Where's Jackson?"

I sighed and stirred a fork through the boiling noodles. "We broke up a few months ago. Nothing big. We're going to stay friends and all that." I said it not quite believing it, dripping my words with sarcasm.

He plainly said, "Sorry about that."

"Eh," I voiced, "what can you do? Que sera, sera is my new motto. I'm becoming a housewife to myself."

An ugly snort sounded through the phone. "Are you high?"

I giggled. "No. This is what happens when I'm left alone in nature for too long. I'll be joining a nudist cult soon. What about you and Arielle?" 

"Fine. You know, I'm touring and all that." He didn’t talk about her with me ever, which was the appropriate thing to do, but I took it as a sign that they were like Jackson and me: never seeing one another and on the edge of a breakup. 

"I know," I said. "How's that going?"

"Good. We're having fun."

"I'm liking the new stuff."

He was short and wanted to change the topic quickly. "Thanks." He was evasive. I don't know what that meant about the subject matter of "Do I Wanna Know?" and I won't write who he had in mind when his pen hit paper. But I have written the history here and you can deduce what you want.

"How's your new material?" He asked. I couldn't remember the last time I had sent him any of my writing. Our art had become separated. He didn’t ask for my opinion. I didn’t ask for his. I think that’s when our relationship died. We were so attached through our love of creating and not sharing that with one another was proof that whatever was left was necrosing.

"Fine, I think. Just short stories for now. I don't know what else to write. Nothing much has happened."

He outwardly laughed. "Seems like a lot has happened."

"Maybe. It doesn't feel like it." He was on the outside looking in, but from within, everything played out slowly, and it all went down in an inevitable nature.

"I get it. I'll leave you to dinner."

So, we faded away from one another once again. We were barely a blip on one another's radar. I went back to the city and lived with Fennel and Kaka until I was done "figuring everything out." I wondered why Alex had called me. If it was just to catch up or he had something to tell me. Despite my loneliness and desperation, I never called Alex. He was always the one reaching out.

I submitted the collection of short stories to my new agent and began renting a studio apartment in Downtown Brooklyn. I began writing freelance again to exercise my writing muscle and get the additional paycheck. 

The night AM was released I listened to it and tried my best not to dissect it. My brain imagined who the muse of the songs but when the album finished I went to bed and decided that all it would be to me was an album. It was nothing more than a collection of good songs.

The Monkeys passed through a week later and I got a text from Katie that we should get lunch. I had a meeting with my agent then so she asked if I wanted to go to the show. I liked the idea of it. Of just being able to enjoy the music again, but I knew my presence didn't exhibit that. I went anyway.

I tugged Opal along with me and we went to Webster Hall. We would enjoy the show. I would get drinks with Katie and that would be it.

It was wishful thinking that I didn't even believe in. I enjoyed playing with fire too much for that to be the case. 

I sat on a couch with Opal squished next to me. Alex sat in a chair to my side and we knocked knees with one another. "When I moved I found all those guitar picks that you misplaced," I told him. I held some drink and leaned on the arm of the couch. "They were behind the couch and under the bed. I found one in one of the kitchen drawers."

He plucked a smile and fell further back in his chair. "Yeah, I was never good at keeping track of those."

"I know," I laughed at him. "I lived with you. It was very annoying."

"I probably left that one in the drawer just to annoy you. I did that sometimes."

I crossed my brows and faked a sternness. “You enjoyed pissing me off?”

He took a deep breath and sank back in his chair. “Well…” He didn’t say anything else. Our conversation conjoined with the group’s and we never discussed how much meaning sat in that single word. Well.

As my time apart from Alex grew, I wondered how much of him I truly knew. He had these secrets he buried deep. Those guitar picks were tokens for me to collect. It was his own game he never told me about. He got a kick out of getting a rise out of me in the same way as when he would call me posh just to get an eyeroll. More and more I felt Alex to be a closed book that I only got to experience a few pages of.

The night grew later and we didn’t feel the need to linger. I felt the doors closing. I felt a need for it to be over. When we got on the subway home, I didn’t know when I would see Alex again. I didn’t know if it would be next year or another decade but I knew it wouldn’t be either of us reaching out. We would run in the same circles. Weddings, birthdays, babies, but we wouldn’t share those with one another. We wouldn’t be plus ones and we wouldn’t be giving presents to one another.

We said goodbye with a wave. I felt stupid for going in the first place. There was a feeling I had held onto what could have been for long enough. When I went to bed that night, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t think about Alex. There was no pit. I didn’t do anything wrong. It just wasn’t right. I was comfortable. 

When I spoke with Alex, every word was spoken with a tinge of hesitance. I was holding myself back. I couldn’t live in that awkwardness and I don’t know why I was fighting for so long to be able to do that. I had invaded his territory for nothing but a few words and a drink. I had surrendered now. Happily.

*

a/n: well, sorry for the wait, followed by the shortness, but i suppose the length illustrates the point. the next part will be much longer and much sooner. i'm luckily in the writing spirit (for now). thanks for reading!

[the-unconquered-queen]

I had a realization about my Blades MC x LI dynamics which means absolutely nothing but has been living rent-free in my head all day regardless. Here goes:

TyrilMC/AerinMC - Lovers who happen to be best friends

MalMC - Best friends who happen to be lovers

Ramble I had to add under a read more because it was originally going in the tags before I realized I was approaching 30 tags with no end in sight (it's gonna show):

Look, I can't speak for y'all's MCs and pairings and playthroughs, but that's literally how it is in mine. And I'm not favoring one type of dynamic over the other, it's just a difference I've noted and this is how I finally put it into words. And I can't speak for all LI/MC dynamics either, which is why I'm limiting this to the LIs I personally romance.

I was just thinking that Mal's scenes often feel like they have a bit more of a friendship element to them even when they're romantic compared perhaps to the others, if that makes sense? I mean, MC is literally said to be Mal's best friend regardless of whether you're on his route or not, whereas for my other two LIs, there is definitely a strong friendship, but it feels like it is strengthened by their relationship with MC.

The more obvious example of the two is Aerin. Lbr, who is his best friend if not MC. And I feel like being on his route emboldens his being intimate with MC, and I'm not even referring to physical intimacy, just in an opening up kind of way, an expressing himself more freely kind of way. 'Cause if you're not on his route, there's no real reason for him and MC to be particularly close as a duo within the larger group, and they are not portrayed as one by the book either. MC is often not even particularly nice to him outside of his diamond scenes. So while my MC does genuinely enjoy Aerin's company, I know their bond is harder to justify on canon alone if they're not dating.

And then in Tyril's case I think his romantic relationship with MC really propels their specific Kilvali, even though I think there'd be a special kinship between them regardless if he and MC are the only elves in the party (which is the case in my pt) and they nevertheless would grow closer by virtue of him being a link to MC's lost culture and heritage that he enjoys teaching her about, but I think their love is what makes them such a close duo and therefore reinforces their friendship. I mean, consider how long it took for Tyril to recognize his relationship with MC as Dinvali vs how much longer it was for Kilvali, even though they had a blossoming friendship before it turned sexual.

Meanwhile, with Mal, it's like their relationship was the natural progression to their friendship, making it the other way around for MalMC—as in, their friendship strengthens their relationship. Because if I take away all romantic elements of my MC's relationships with them and leave only the platonic—and also strip personal headcanons about their dynamics and personalities to focus on what the books actually wrote (because, for example, you can hc an MC who has basically the same personality as Tyril/Aerin which is why they get along so swimmingly, so maybe a sarcastic, blunt MC for Aerin or a cool, sort of stoic MC for Tyril, who then is a perfect fit for their respective LI, but that doesn't mean that's how the writers wrote MC, who, like it or not, does still have a canon personality that is closer Mal's and not much like the other two), anyway yeah, so strip all of that and Mal would likely be the one of the three MC is closest to. I think that canon MC personality is a big reason why the MalMC dynamic is pretty effortless, while I feel like if I don't make the active effort to include TyrilMC/AerinMC in my playthrough (with romance being the more effective method imo, bc it leads to coded moments instead of just vanishing entirely as soon as a diamond scene is over), the game will not do it for me and they will not be as prominent.

And this is something that I think works for these LIs' personalities! Because Tyril and Aerin are more reserved characters who need to be close to someone (in this case, through a relationship) before they are comfortable letting loose and truly being themselves. As in, you have to get past their initial lack of charm to get to their actual charm. Whereas Mal is the opposite because he is very charming and charismatic right off the bat, so you don't need to tease that out of him, but it's within the relationship that he can be more real, such as him admitting to MC after a b1 hookup that (before her) he wasn't used to wanting certainty, a home, and someone to share it with, plus the rest of that vulnerable conversation. So then, instead of Mal starting out more serious and having the relationship show him how to let loose, he starts out casual and the relationship emboldens him to be serious, I think is a way it could be put.

Aside from personalities, it's possible that the timelines play into this as well, when you think about it. Yeah, all three of these LIs have stated at different points throughout the series that they were attracted to MC upon meeting her, but Mal was the one who was a friend the longest before the dynamics took a turn for the romantic. Because while Mal's and Tyril's relationships with MC were both taken to another level that night they had their first kisses in the lodge, Mal had been traveling with MC longer (consider how long it takes the group to get from one location to another off-screen) and therefore had more time to grow platonically before something else was added to the mix.

And Aerin, of course, took the fastest track, given that MC could kiss him the very day they met, and, if romanced since book 1 (which is the case in my playthrough) at no point has their relationship ever been solely friendly as a result, and even when they grow back together in book 2, MC learning to be friends with him post-betrayal happens simultaneously as MC and Aerin rekindling their past romance. Considering his characterization, I'd like to point out that Aerin seems to have an easier time with romance than friendship, as (so far—shoutout non-VIPs) he doesn't really show hesitance when it comes to being with MC romantically (aside from worrying—completely reasonably, may I add—that she wouldn't want him after the stuff he's pulled) and does often take the lead in that regard, but it's the idea of budding friendship that sent him running for the hills. Even now, as of b3 ch 11, he's said he's "not there yet" about his closeness to the party, but didn't even hesitate before proudly introducing MC as the "love of his life" to his mother. In his case, it's definitely the relationship helping the friendship progress.

To finish this off, I'm not saying all of this stuff I've been pointing out is exclusive to the romance routes. Certainly someone who's not romancing these LIs can have moments in their playthroughs where they let down their guards to their MCs, but I feel that, within my playthough in which they are romanced, this is how their dynamics appear, and this recontextualizes scenes and dialogues that any player can get outside of their romances. So yeah, I'm not trying to minimize whatever friendships other people's MCs might have with these LIs and I'm definitely not implying that either friendship or romance is inherently better or more profound than the other. But just that ever since I came to the conclusion that the MalMC friendship feeds and elevates the MalMC romance while the TyrilMC/AerinMC romance feeds and elevates the TyrilMC/AerinMC friendship, I feel like I'm seeing their dynamics in a new light.

[universefcb]

◎﹒⚽ . ❛ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 ❜ ━━━ My first time writing here, hahaha. I'm so happy.

◎﹒⚽ . ❛❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜❜ ━━━ English is not my first language, sorry if there is a mistake!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜ ━━━ Your comment and like are very important, don't be a ghost reader!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜ ━━━ OH MY GOD, I love this boy so much!

◎﹒⚽ . ❛❛𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒❜❜ ━━━ 1.1k Of words

The girl placed the box on the counter and looked at Irene, her best friend. They were both organizing a surprise party for Pau, and since Irene wasn’t getting any help from her parents, she decided to rely on her best friend. The girl was two years younger than her, but that didn’t stop them from having a great friendship.

“All set, now we just need to fill up the balloons and hang them!” The girl said, clapping her hands together to remove the dust from the cardboard box that had been stored in the Cubarsí family’s storage room.

“Thanks for helping me; I don’t know what I would do without you,” she laughed, looking at her friend. “You can go home, take a shower, and come back. I’ll take care of the balloons.”

“What do you mean, come back?” she asked, shaking her head in confusion.

“Come back for the party, s/n,” her voice sounded obvious.

“I’m not close enough to Pau to be at his party, Rene,” she shrugged, walking toward the living room with Irene following behind.

“But you’re MY best friend, and you’re helping organize the party. You have every right to be here.” They both sat down on the white couch in the living room. “Besides, Pau likes your company.” Her tone was teasing and mischievous.

“Don’t be silly, Irene.” She placed a pillow on her lap and fixed her gaze on the enormous TV. “He’s just polite to me, something you aren’t.”

Irene rolled her eyes and gave her friend a light slap on the back of the head. They both laughed, and Irene turned to look at her best friend more directly.

“Go get ready and come back looking gorgeous!” She stood up and pulled you by the wrists, dragging you to the door. “Bye-bye, baby.”

She closed the door in your face, and you just sighed, not having much choice but to go home. You took an Uber back.

Calmly, you got ready, running your hand through your hair, checking if everything looked perfect. You didn’t want to admit it, but you didn’t like being around Irene’s family. Actually, you didn’t like being around her younger brother, knowing that you’d never have a chance with him.

The garage door was open, and she stepped inside, seeing the backyard decorated in blue and red. Her eyes landed on Irene, who was chatting with some of Pau’s club friends. She smiled shyly, lowering her head in embarrassment as she felt all the boys’ gazes fall on her.

“I definitely wasn’t going to come,” she muttered, fidgeting with the hem of her floral white dress, shifting her feet awkwardly.

“Don’t be like that, grab the present, and let’s go talk to the kids.” Irene pulled her wrist, but she stopped.

“How do you know I bought something for him?” Her neck burned with embarrassment at the thought of Irene knowing about her feelings for her younger brother.

“I know you like the back of my hand. You spent three weeks going to the jewelry store at the mall, staring at the necklaces with the letter P. I’m not stupid.” She linked her arm with yours.

“I hate you,” she murmured as they approached the boys.

“Hi,” you said shyly, sitting on the chair next to Irene, which, coincidentally, was next to Pau.

You greeted him briefly, feeling embarrassed to be so close to him. Your hands were sweating and trembling. You were an extremely shy person, and even more so when it came to boys and anything related to them.

“I need some help inside; would you guys mind helping me?” Irene looked at Hector and Yamal, who exchanged glances before smirking.

“We’d be happy to help,” Yamal said, getting up, and Hector followed. The three of them left, leaving the “couple” alone.

“Well… Happy birthday!” She smiled, lowering her head to rummage inside her bag until she found a small black velvet box. “I know it’s not a big present… but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

She mentally cursed herself for blushing as he flashed a beautiful smile upon seeing the box. Pau took the small object from her hands and opened it, revealing a beautiful silver necklace with the letter P. He chuckled, and s/n’s stomach churned, unsure if he liked it or if he was laughing at her for being pathetic.

“This is the best gift I’ve received.” He lifted his gaze, looking at the girl in front of him. She had a surprised expression on her face, uncertain if he would like it. “Will you put it on me?”

Pau handed her the necklace, turning his back to her. The girl fastened it around his neck and watched as he turned back to her. Her eyes sparkled upon seeing the smile on his face, and she felt her stomach flutter as butterflies danced in a calm, happy melody

“It looks perfect on you,” she whispered, too shy to say it louder. “I should go inside; Irene probably needs help…”

She stood up, wanting to escape, but his large hand grabbed her wrist, making her stop and look at him—at those green eyes that appeared darker due to the night and the dim lighting.

“What is it?” she stammered, watching him rise from his chair, towering over her without releasing her wrist.

It was no secret that Pau was incredibly tall, and she looked tiny beside him, barely reaching his shoulders. She had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze, which made her blush even more. The warmth of his touch made her feel hot; everything about him turned her red.

“I can’t miss this chance,” his voice sounded anxious and breathless.

Before she could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She gasped in surprise, unable to believe HE had done that. He noticed she didn’t immediately respond and started to pull away, but she pulled him back, rising onto her tiptoes to kiss him. His lips were soft and warm, like clouds. His hands moved to her waist, gripping it and pulling her even closer.

They pulled apart, breathless and flushed. He smiled at her, gently running his finger across her cheek, making her smile.

“Be mine, please…!” She looked into his eyes, seeing them shine, and she smiled at that.

“I already am.”

As soon as she said that, it was all the encouragement he needed to kiss her again—this time, even more passionately.

[channiesunshinx]

𝐹𝓇𝒾(𝑒𝓃𝒹)𝓈

Day 2 of Jeongin's birthday week fanfics

Pairing: Jeongin x F!reader Genre: Fake dating, friends to lovers, drama, angst, romance, fluff, Idol!jeongin x idol!reader Warning: Media pressure, emotional conflict

Jeongin leaned back against the plush sofa in the dimly lit party hall, taking in the music, the chatter, and the drinks flowing freely around him. It wasn’t his scene, but the other members of Stray Kids had convinced him to come. And, honestly, there was someone here he wanted to see—Y/N.

Y/N was a member of a newly rising girl group- Astral, known for her captivating voice and stunning stage presence. They'd met during a variety show, and while they hadn't spent much time together, there was something about her that kept Jeongin intrigued. They'd talked a few times, hung out at industry events, and became friends.

But that night, their friendship was about to take an unexpected turn.

The paparazzi were always lurking, but Jeongin hadn't thought much of it as Y/N slipped beside him, laughing lightly at something one of the other idols had said. It was natural, comforting even, and Jeongin couldn't help but feel at ease in her company. They were talking, just as friends, when suddenly, flashes erupted.

Jeongin froze, but Y/N was quick to grab his hand, pulling him toward a more secluded area. The reporters didn't seem to care—they were all too eager to capture the story. Jeongin, now holding her hand as they dashed away, could feel his heart race, but not from the excitement of escaping the paparazzi. Something about their closeness felt... different. He didn't have much time to analyze it as they quickly found refuge in a corner behind some curtains, out of sight from the cameras.

“I think they got us,” Y/N said breathlessly, still holding his hand. She glanced up at him, and their eyes met. “This is not good.”

Jeongin could only nod. They both knew the consequences of getting caught in a compromising situation like this. But Y/N, always the professional, quickly thought of a solution.

“Let's just say we're dating,” she suggested, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “It's easier to control the narrative that way.”

Jeongin blinked in shock. “What?”

“I mean, they'll keep running with whatever they want, but at least if we say we're a couple, it won't spiral out of control.”

He hesitated. It felt wrong, but Y/N was right. With the media so eager to make up stories, their best bet was to take control. And so, they made a quick decision that night: they would fake date.

Weeks passed, and the media didn't stop. Every sighting, every conversation, every shared glance between Jeongin and Y/N was turned into a headline. “Stray Kids’'Jeongin and Astral's Y/N: K-pop's New Power Couple!” the articles would say, showing off their supposed love story with carefully crafted pictures that made the world believe they were inseparable.

At first, Jeongin had simply gone along with it. Y/N had a natural charm about her, and they were, after all, friends. It wasn’t so bad pretending to be in a relationship, even if it was for the cameras. But soon, Jeongin couldn't deny the feelings stirring in his chest. Every touch, every shared moment, seemed to make his heart beat faster. What was once an innocent ruse had slowly turned into something more—something Jeongin didn't understand.

Then came the argument.

It had been a small thing at first—misunderstandings, petty disagreements, and stress piling up. But suddenly, it escalated. They were backstage after a joint performance, both exhausted, their nerves frayed, and one comment turned into another.

“You don't get it, Jeongin!” Y/N snapped, her voice sharp. “I'm not doing this because I want to be with you—I'm doing it for our careers!”

Jeongin's chest tightened, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “Then why do you act like you want to be with me, huh? Why does it feel like you're doing this for more than just the media?”

Y/N froze, eyes wide, then a bitter laugh escaped her lips. “So, you think it's real? That we're actually... this?”

Jeongin's face flushed. “You're the one who suggested it. But now you're acting like I'm the one who's confused?”

They both stood there in silence, tension thick between them. Jeongin could feel his pulse racing, but Y/N just turned away, shaking her head. “I don't want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Jeongin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“This whole... fake thing. I don't want to be your friend if it's like this. I just can't anymore, Jeongin.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, like a punch to the gut. He wanted to reach out, to tell her he didn't know what was happening, that he didn't want to lose her, but he didn't know how. Before he could say anything else, she walked off, leaving Jeongin standing alone with his racing thoughts.

Later that night, Jeongin found himself pacing in the Stray Kids dorm, unable to shake the feeling that everything was slipping through his fingers. He needed advice—he needed someone to make sense of this mess.

The other members were scattered around the living room, some on their phones, some playing video games. But Jeongin went straight to Bang Chan, his leader, his friend.

“Hyung,” Jeongin began, his voice low, “I think I've messed up.”

Chan looked up from his phone, sensing the seriousness in Jeongin's tone. “What's going on?”

“I... I think I'm in love with Y/N,” Jeongin admitted, his heart pounding. “But everything's a mess. We’re supposed to be faking it for the media, but I can't stop thinking about her. And now she's mad at me.”

Chan nodded slowly, his expression softening. “Jeongin, I think you've been in love with her for a while now. But it's complicated, right? You need to be honest with yourself first. If you care about her, don't wait for the perfect moment—just tell her how you feel.”

The words hit Jeongin like a wave. He had been so focused on the fake relationship, so caught up in the public image, that he hadn' realized he was already in love. With Y/N.

That night, Jeongin couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about her—her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the way her hand felt in his. He realized that he didn't want to just be her friend anymore.

He gathered the courage, grabbed his coat, and left for her apartment. He wasn't going to let this fear hold him back anymore.

Y/N wasn't expecting a knock at her door at 2 a.m., but when she opened it, there stood Jeongin, looking both nervous and determined.

“I'm sorry,” he said before she could speak, his voice shaking. “I don't want to be just your friend. I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for a while now. And I don't care about the media, I don't care about anything. I just want you.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart racing. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Jeongin's confession hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N didn't feel like a public figure. She felt like herself—just Y/N, the girl Jeongin cared about.

“I—” she began, but Jeongin stepped closer, taking her hands in his.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it,” he said quietly. “But now that I do, I don't want to hide it anymore.”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes as she pulled him into a hug. “Me too,” she whispered against his shoulder. “Me too.”

And in that moment, with the weight of their secret lifted, Jeongin and Y/N knew they weren't just pretending anymore. They were in love—finally, and for real.

Taglist: @mihoonz, @toasty0703, @lplondynnwoo, @loxgirl2004

[sasukeless]

What's Sasuke and Karin's friendship like?

i can’t tell if you’re asking me for hcs or use canon? anyway i guess they both the same anyway because i don’t like changing stuff. so yeah they are a very subtle friendship since karin is a side character and not meant at the center of sasuke’s arc the way itachi and naruto are but i still find them very precious.

like imagine you’re karin and you have no family and no village and you’re basically the lab experiment of some freak and there’s this boy that saves your life and is the only person kind to you (you can notice is taka’s interactions sasuke defends karin from suigetsu which i find really nice of him). it makes perfect sense to me karin grows very attached to sasuke. he’s also the one to kill her abuser (more because orochimaru is his abuser as well but yeah) and free her of duty, and trusts his back to her. the way jugo tells sasuke they have to leave karin behind because they won’t make it otherwise but sasuke stands his ground and does everything to save her it’s so telling and debunks any argument people have of sasuke just seeing her as a tool.

in fact, i find hilarious ppl use him stabbing karin at 5ks as their proof when the whole point of that scene is seeing how far gone sasuke was and his mental instability when faced against the responsibility for itachi’s and his clan massacre that he ended up hurting a friend that gave all to help him. obito literally calls karin sasuke’s favorite out of taka during that fight, do people just assume kishimoto added that for no reason? but anyways back to them. i also love that despite his crush and flirting, karin also can talk back to sasuke and isn’t meek. she isn’t scared to call him out when she wants to. sasuke also apologizes to her and ik shippers of all kind love to say he didn’t mean it but there’s no indication he wasn’t sincere unless you try to push an agenda lol. i also love that sensing sasuke in danger got karin to unlock the uzumaki chains technique so she could get to save him, it shows how much she cares (and it kinda parallels him saving her during the killer bee fight). and lastly karin just wants sasuke happy like for all her crush can be annoying at times she really cares more for sasuke’s happiness than “winning” him and doesn’t try to generate pity with her feelings to get him to stay with her and i think that’s why sasuke doesn’t find her annoying lol.

so to summarize it, i adore their friendship even if it’s not in your face and you have to pick it up. i think they care about each other and like each other presences. i can also see them bonding over their traumas being victims of orochimaru’s grooming and being understanding. i like to think even after moving on from her crush karin still acts clingy and annoying w sasuke but instead of being confused like before he just now is like Whatever and lets her because they both know it’s not serious.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

I love your stories so so much and your writing is AMAZING I just disconnect of the world and feel like I’m just right there! I was wondering if you could write a Dave x reader smut story? The reader and Dave knew each other because she was friends with Metallica before they kicked out Dave and for that reason he didn’t like her at all, but a long time after they meet again when Dave is in Megadeth (maybe the 90s?). She tried talking to him but he act’s distant because he doesn’t want to show his feelings to her because he felt betrayed by her too even though she had nothing to do with the band decision, but as the time passes by, the tension grows and… you know 🤭

P.S: ROUGH DAVE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE 🙏

Sorry if I didn't posted, but last week I coudln't even breathe.

Hope you like it!❤

Warnings: NSFW, mature themes, sexual themes

Unforeseen Feelings

Walking into the bar, the familiar scent of stale beer mixed with the sweet aroma of forgotten dreams hit me like a wave. The low hum of classic rock filled the air, and for a moment, it felt like I was stepping back in time. Yet, the past carried the weight of memories and a certain man who occupied so many of my thoughts—Dave Mustaine.

I scanned the room, my heart racing with anticipation and dread. There he was, slouched at the end of the bar, a whiskey glass halfway to his lips. The years had been unkind, but they hadn't dulled his rugged charisma; if anything, the hard lines on his face only enhanced it. He had changed, yet there was still that recognizable spark of defiance in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, I approached him, my feet feeling heavier with each step. Memories of our past flashed in my mind—a friendship that had been twisted the moment Metallica's betrayal had taken him down. What had once been camaraderie had splintered into silence and distance ever since.

“Hey, Dave,” I attempted to sound casual, but my voice betrayed me—a waver slipped in as nervousness took hold.

He turned slowly to face me, his expression unreadable. “What do you want?” There was an edge to his tone, sharp enough to make me take a half-step back.

I bristled at the coldness, crossing my arms defensively. “I came to see how you were doing, but clearly, that was a mistake.”

His derisive laugh echoed around us, a bitter sound steeped in old wounds. “Just because you’re friends with them doesn’t mean I want to talk to you,” he replied, casting his eyes away from me.

The words stung, igniting a flash of anger within me. “You know I had nothing to do with that decision, Dave! You never even gave me the chance to explain.”

“Why would I trust you?” he shot back, disappointment lacing his tone. “You were close to them. You had every reason to side with them.”

I took a deep breath and leaned closer, my determination flaring. “But you didn’t even ask! You just shut me out, like I was part of the betrayal.”

His shoulders tensed, the defensive wall he’d built around himself thickening. I saw the doubts and hardships wrestling within his eyes; the conflict was palpable. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, looking away.

“Try me,” I urged, my heart pounding as I drew closer.

The silence stretched, filled with unspoken words and emotions. He hesitated, and just for a moment, I saw a glimpse of the man he used to be—the one who smiled easily, the one who found joy in every riff. I remembered all those carefree nights we spent together, laughing and enjoying life.

Flashback

It was only a year before everything changed; we were hanging out backstage while the band prepared for a gig. The energy was electric, and the freedom of youth felt like a never-ending promise. Dave had flung his arm around my shoulder, his laughter echoing.

“You know what? Once we make it big, we should go on a trip together!” he exclaimed, a wild grin spreading across his face. It was the perfect night—music playing, laughter ringing through the air.

But soon after, shadows began to gather. The tensions I hadn’t noticed were festering. When Metallica’s betrayal came to light, it shattered him; it shattered us both. I could see it in his eyes but had no idea how deeply it would ripple through our shared world.

End Flashback

I took a sharp breath, feeling the weight of that memory press against my chest. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain,” I said softly, reaching for his hand, but he withdrew it before I could make contact.

“You’re friends with them. Why would you want to help me?” he retorted, his voice a mix of hurt and anger.

“Because I care about you, Dave,” I confessed, my heart racing, desperation filling my voice. “I never wanted to be caught in the middle of your pain.”

He continued to look away, the inner battle clearly visible on his face. “Then why are you here now?” he finally asked, his tone softening slightly.

“Because I’ve missed you!” I said, the exasperation in my voice ringing out clearly. “I can’t stand this distance between us any longer. I want to talk to you—not about the past, but about now.”

His eyes met mine, and within that moment, something shifted in the air; the hardness of his expression faltered, presenting a vulnerable side I hadn’t seen in years.

“I…” he started, but words failed him. I could see he was torn between the walls he’d built around himself and the longing that had lingered beneath the surface.

In an impulsive moment, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his, yearning to bridge the chasm that had formed between us. His body stiffened in surprise, and for a few heart-stopping seconds, time seemed to freeze as a whirlwind of emotions swirled around us.

When I pulled back, my heart raced at the surprised expression on his face. “You’re so stupid; couldn’t you see I wanted you?” I breathed, searching his gaze for any recognition of my feelings.

He blinked, still stunned. “You shouldn’t have done that, Y/N,” he murmured, recovering from the shock.

“Maybe I wanted you to notice,” I replied, feigning bravado even as warmth flooded my cheeks.

A slow smile crept onto his face, a dangerous spark igniting in his eyes. “Maybe it’s time you learn how this really works,” he growled, pulling me closer so our bodies crashed together. The heat radiated between us like a force of nature.

“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested, the urgency of the moment urging me to act.

He took my hand, and we stepped outside into the cool night air. The ambiance of the bar faded behind us, but the heat between us only intensified as we wandered onto the dimly lit street.

“Where to?” I asked breathlessly, glancing up at him.

He looked down at me, his expression softening. “My apartment is just a few blocks away. We’ll be alone there.”

The thrill of his words sent a spark coursing through me. I nodded, and we walked in a comfortable silence, anticipation crackling between us.

When we finally arrived at his apartment, the door barely had time to click closed before he was upon me again, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. His hands found my waist, drawing me possessively against him, and I melted into him, feeling the years of unresolved desire ignite like a flame rekindled.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured between kisses, breathless and wild.

I leaned into him, feeling emboldened. “Then show me how much you want me.”

His hands slid from my waist to grip my shoulders as he kissed me deeper, any remnants of hesitance dissipating. In that moment, he moved us through the dimly lit space of his apartment, not breaking our kiss, until our backs hit the wall near the door.

The coolness of the wall contrasted starkly with the heat radiating from our bodies. He pressed against me, and I gasped, feeling every inch of him—hard and desperate for my touch. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as I relished the feeling of his body against mine.

He broke the kiss, taking a step back to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, genuine concern mixed with lust in his voice.

“Yes,” I breathed, my heart pounding. “I want you, Dave. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

With a primal urgency, he grasped my waist and lifted me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his hips, holding on tight as he carried me to his bedroom. The passionate energy crackled between us, charging the atmosphere as he set me down on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” he said, running a hand through his hair. His eyes were ablaze with desire, and I felt the intensity in the air between us.

Neither of us wasted time; the moment felt too precious to lose. He leaned in, capturing my lips with his once more, and I could feel every kiss building the tension that had long been held at bay.

As he kissed me passionately, his hands roamed my body, exploring the curves he had longed for. I pulled him tighter against me, feeling the heat of his body seep into mine. Everything else faded away; there were no past betrayals or anger, only the two of us entwined in this moment of pure desire.

With a surge of confidence, I began to undress, feeling liberated and free. Dave watched, his gaze hungry, and I could see his chest rise and fall with need.

“Let me,” he murmured, taking my hands and guiding them away, before leaning down to press heated kisses along my neckline. I shivered, my body responding instantly to every gentle touch.

“Dave…” I gasped, feeling a rush of pleasure as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses along my collarbone and heading towards the fabric of my shirt.

“I want to savor this,” he whispered against my skin

As his lips danced along my collarbone, I marveled at the way he explored me with both tenderness and urgency. My heart raced, and every kiss sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. The mix of desire and anticipation had me teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Dave…” I gasped, feeling his warmth envelop me as he peeled away my shirt, revealing my skin to the cool air of the room.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he took a moment to drink me in. The sincerity in his tone sent a thrill down my spine, igniting an overwhelming desire within me.

He leaned in, claiming my lips once more, and I could feel his need mirrored in every touch, every kiss. I ran my fingers through his hair as he explored my body, revelling in the way he savored every inch of me. Moving with a confidence that came from years of pent-up longing, he gently pushed me back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said, a teasing grin on his face that sent sparks flying through my chest.

Then, with a sudden burst of playful energy, he kissed a path down my body, his hands exploring my curves with a reverent touch. My senses lit up as his mouth moved lower, and I could hardly contain my moans as the heat between us intensified.

“Just like that,” I urged, feeling the tension building within me, the anticipation overwhelming.

With careful precision, he took his time, making sure to ignite every nerve ending as he worshipped my body with his lips. The world outside faded away, and nothing existed but the two of us, lost in our own private paradise.

“Dave, I need you,” I gasped, arching my back against the sheets, all too aware of how close I was to the edge.

“Then you’re gonna get me,” he replied playfully, shifting his weight and joining me on the bed, his body pressing against mine.

There was something incredibly liberating about our closeness. I felt a mixture of exhilaration and urgency as he maneuvered us into the right position, the playful glint in his eye making my heart race even more.

“Are you ready?” he asked, the hint of vulnerability mixed with eagerness brightly shining through his words.

“Yes,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just… just kiss me, please.”

He smiled against my lips and then kissed me deeply, the connection between us growing sharper with every beat of our hearts. It was a kiss filled with everything we hadn’t said before—the longing, the frustration, and now a promise of passion.

With a swift motion, our bodies intertwined, and I gasped as he filled me completely. The world shifted around us, and all I could focus on was the way our bodies melded together, driven by a shared heat that exploded into an undeniable rhythm.

He set a pace that was both passionate and sweet, losing himself in the sensations we created together. Each thrust was met with little gasps and soft moans, building toward a crescendo that I felt reverberate through every part of me.

“Just like that,” I urged, drawing him in closer. “Don’t stop.”

He smiled, his breath quickening. “I could get used to this,” he remarked, a teasing tone creeping into his voice as he continued to move within me, his warmth enveloping me entirely.

Moments turned into minutes, and as our bodies moved together, the world outside faded into insignificance. We became lost in one another, two souls finally finding their way back to the connection we’d lost for so long.

Our breaths intertwined, punctuated by the occasional laugh or whisper. I felt free, liberated in a way I never expected. It was raw and passionate, the way we connected driving us both to heights we hadn’t thought possible.

Finally, we reached that sweet climax together, the world around us blurring into a haze of pleasure and warmth. I could feel the electric spark of ecstasy wash over me as we both collapsed against each other, panting and blissfully spent.

After a few moments, I felt Dave's arms wrap around me, pulling me close. I smiled at the warmth that radiated through us, content with the closeness after the fire we’d just shared.

“I can’t believe we finally did that,” he chuckled softly, a goofy grin spreading across his face.

I laughed, burying my head against his chest, reveling in the way my body molded against his, feeling utterly safe and happy. “Me neither! I thought I’d have to throw you a laundry list of reasons for a while.”

“Well, you definitely sold me on it,” he said, a playful glimmer in his eye. “And I’m glad I took the plunge.”

“Just remember that I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” I teased, looking up at him. “No closing off anymore, okay?”

“I promise,” he replied earnestly, leaning down to kiss the top of my head before settling in against me, his warmth soothing. I could feel the tension of the past beginning to melt away, replaced by a sense of genuine comfort.

As we lay there, I felt him relax, his breath evening out as he nuzzled closer. There was something amusingly endearing about how he somewhat resembled a large, sleepy cat curled against me, his large frame contrasting with the gentle intimacy we shared.

“Are you laughing at me?” he muttered, half-asleep.

“Maybe,” I smirked, running my fingers through his hair. “You just look so adorable like this.”

“Adorable?” he repeated, the teasing tone back in his voice, even beneath the haze of sleep. “I’m a legendary rock star.”

I chuckled, the sound escaping my lips like a breath of pure joy. “And now you’re my legendary rock star, who is also a little spoon.”

“Little spoon?” he echoed, opening one eye to look at me incredulously. “You’re not supposed to tell anyone that!”

With a laugh, I tightened my hold around him. “Oh, it’s too late for that! I’ll spread the word: the great Dave Mustaine loves being the little spoon—”

“That’s it!” he interrupted, mock indignation clear in his voice. “You better watch out; I’m going to need to redeem my rockstar reputation.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” I asked, leaning closer, fully embracing the lighthearted banter.

But he didn’t reply. Instead, his breath deepened as he settled in, and I could feel him drifting off to sleep. I couldn’t help but smile, pulling him closer as I realized how far we had come—from distant friends caught in turmoil to two souls finding solace in each other.

There was something undeniably sweet about moments like these, and I felt secure in the knowledge that this was just the beginning of our new chapter—a chapter filled with laughter, warmth, and maybe a little bit of mischief.

[captain-gillian]

thank you to @thisbuildinghasfeelings for starting the fandom memories tag, i am, as always, late to this.

i've been procrastinating making this post for two reasons; firstly i didn't want to admit the show was ending, which i know sounds silly but this show has brought so much joy into my life over the last five years, i don't think I'll ever be ready to say goodbye. and secondly, some of my fandom experiences recently have been, to put it lightly, negative and unwelcoming, but I don't want to let one coward sending lesbophobic anon messages stop me from apprecating what has otherwise been such a welcoming joyful fandom experience.

while I didn't find the fandom until 2022, i've been watching since the first episode aired, and this show has brought me so much happiness (and heartache, it is a drama afterall) over the years.

anyways these are some of my favourite memories from this fandom:

finding community

the thing for me that will always stay with me from this show and fandom is the community built around it. this show at it's core celebrates diverse imperfect characters, and the queer community and on the whole the fandom does too. from the moment i started interacting with the fandom, both here and on twitter i felt welcome and accepted and safe to be myself. this fandom came into my life in a difficult time when i was quite isolated and i will forever treasure the connections and friendships i've made through this show, whether we've never talked one on one or whether we talk every day, I'm so grateful for all of you. it's so beautiful that this silly little firefighter show has brought together so many people from so many walks of life all over the world and brought friends into my life I couldn't imagine my life without (shoutout to @nancys-braids & @fallout-mars) thank you for being a space where i feel free to be myself, even while i'm not able to be irl.

getting back into writing

in june of 2022, I wrote my first 9-1-1 lone star/tarlos fic after a long break from writing, and instantly realised how much I missed it. i'd been a bit hesitant to share the fic, but the kindness from this fandom was an incredible confidence boost. i've now written 23 lone star fics (and counting) and connected with so many people over writing, wether it be my fics or theirs and grown so much as a writer and honestly as a person in that time.

the creativity and talent of this fandom

i've never been part of a fandom as creative and talented as this one, it's been such a joy to read so many incredible fics, see so much beautiful art (from pencil drawing to digital art to anne's creative cross stitching) and watch so many great edits and so much more.

live watching/re-watching

being an international fan i can't always live watch, but the times i've been able to live watch or rewatch with friends, here, in dms or on twitter have always made the watch experience so much more enjoyable. these stories have so much more impact when you can share them communually and react together. watching the tarlos wedding live with friends on twitter will always be a cherished memory.

queer nancy being canon

this moment meant so much to me, I saw a lot of myself in nancy from the very first season, and I always saw her as queer but never expected it to be confirmed in canon, especially in such a beautifully casual way. the way this show treats queerness as something expected, and casual instead of the big dramatic reveal it so often is on television will always mean so much to me.

and finally nancymarjan

not to be dramatic but finding a community of likeminded people who understand and also love my favourite rarepair wlw ship was life changing. the fandom experience can be lonely at times as a lesbian and when shipping femslash ships and i'll be forever greatful for nancymarjan nation <3 the best part of fandom will always be sharing the things you treasure the most with people who treasure them the same way.

thank you @everlastingday @nancys-braids @welcometololaland @reyesstrand @tellmegoodbye @bonheur-cafe for the tags, I loved reading your favourite fandom memories.

open tag because i'm so late <3

[waynes-multiverse]

Ooooh I'm so excited what you came up with!!! That prompt still makes me snort lol

I love the whole premise of pranking Dean 😆 My deep-dive down below 👇

The beans in your pocket jingled merrily as you sat on the bench in the warm sunlight, soaking up the beams like a happy cat on a stoop while the small town of Belleville woke up.

Yup, that would be me 😂 Love me some pranks. I probably wouldn't be able to hold in my cackling, though lol

Dean had told you to sit in Baby and wait for him before he strode down the street to the newsstand on the corner to pick up a fresh copy of the newspaper to see if there was anything weird happening in this little town.

Uh-oh... 😂 (I'm legit on the edge of my seat, waiting to read about his stupid face like a maniac lmao)

The same diner where he’d stolen the last bite of flaky goodness from your plate and shoved it into the black hole he called a mouth and earned a slap on the shoulder by you.

He is such a Joey 😂💚

This morning when you’d taken too long in the bathroom, Dean had shoved a giant plastic spider under the door to smoke you out. It had led to an unfortunate incident with you racing out of the bathroom screaming for him to kill it, clad only in a towel while Dean filmed you on his phone and laughed until he had tears in his eyes.

Yeah, he deserves this... lol

“He carjacked you?!” Dean shouts, eyes widening. His body tenses and you watch him begin to look up and down the street frantically for some glimpse of Baby.

I'm already laughing so hard help 😂😂

They were still the same shade of green like the ferns that lived on a well-watered forest floor, the color of a pine tree that unfurled it’s leaves in the warm summer months and reached to the sky, and they were lecked with gold that caught in the afternoon sun when it hung directly overhead. 

This is probably the most amazing and beautiful description of Dean's eyes I've ever read. Like WOW 😍👏

“You sold my car for magic beans?” Dean shouts so loud that you’re sure somewhere in the midwest a murder of crows all rose from the earth in an angry swarm. You can imagine them, black plumage running together into the sky, ink over paper, oil on water. 

I was already dead during this whole scene, but this description brought be back to life and then killed me again 💀🤣

“That doesn’t matter if he had an eyepatch and a peg-leg! You sold Baby! You sold my car! How would you like it if I took your first child?”

OMFG stitches! stitches!!! The drama 🤣🤣🤣

“It means that they are worth a million times what Baby was! I could get you a hundred Impalas with these bad boys! And I’ll demonstrate!” You hold them up triumphantly before hurling them to the warm soil underneath the tree to your left.

Oh, she's going full in! Love the commitment 😂

“Oh for the love of- CAS!” Dean’s eye is still twitching when he roars the angel’s name, not looking away from you as he does.

YAY CAS!!! 😍

“Nope.” He shakes his head, determination flashing in his eyes. “I’m just getting started.”

Oh no... Of course he can't let it go 😂 I imagine they'll still prank each other when they're 80 lol

The ending was so absolutely sweet, though. You could really witness the depth of their friendship 🥹 I also loved the paragraph how the world keeps spinning and it's just another beautiful day. There was so much beauty and realness in that. Tugged on my heart 😭🫶

Thank you so much for writing this for me and congrats again on 1k followers. Truly deserved and more for so much talent 🩵🩵🩵

PS: Please add me to your tag list. Thank you 🫶

This Isn't Over

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader (platonic?), Reader POV

Prompt: "You sold my car for magic beans?"/"Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything."

Requested by: @waynes-multiverse

Tropes: Established friendship

Summary:  When Dean plays a prank on you, your only option is to retaliate, but maybe you took it too far. (This can be read as platonic or as a friends with benefits situation- whichever you want it to be 😊)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Some cursing, Ridiculous Pranks, Friendship, Prank Gone Too Far? Reader and Dean being menaces to one another? Fluff? Reader is described as having hair long enough to put up in a bun.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

A/N: Second fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the lovely @waynes-multiverse ENJOY!

The beans in your pocket jingled merrily as you sat on the bench in the warm sunlight, soaking up the beams like a happy cat on a stoop while the small town of Belleville woke up.

There was a kiss of fall on the wind that played with the hair at the nape of your neck, winding through the strands and pulling them out of the messy bun at the back of your head. 

But it was a good day. 

You’d met Dean here yesterday, your paths crossing as they always did when the two of you were out looking for jobs and it was a happy coincidence. Your friend looked a little more worn around the eyes than he usually did, a few gray strands in his golden brown hair, but he had the same smile that crinkled all the lines on his face and made you feel special. 

Dean didn’t smile like that at everyone, you supposed after ten years of friendship you’d earned that. The two of you had been through quite a bit together and you guessed that there was more than enough to come. 

You smiled to yourself, leaning against the wooden back of the bench with a content sigh.

The leaves on the trees hanging over your head and lining the streets were just starting to brown, slipping into yellows, reds, and happy oranges to herald the changing of the seasons.

Dean had told you to sit in Baby and wait for him before he strode down the street to the newsstand on the corner to pick up a fresh copy of the newspaper to see if there was anything weird happening in this little town.

In your experience places like coffee shops, grocery stores, and diners were usually breeding grounds for the best gossip, where people would congregate and talk in hushed whispers about the happenings in town. 

But not here. There was nothing but smiles and happy chatter that caught on the wind from the cafe just within ear shot that also brought the warm smells of cinnamon and coffee with it. 

The best thing Dean and you had discovered here was the apple pie at the diner he’d taken you to this morning. The same diner where he’d stolen the last bite of flaky goodness from your plate and shoved it into the black hole he called a mouth and earned a slap on the shoulder by you.

Your lips curl slightly on the ends mischievously thinking that Dean had what was coming to him. 

The pie wasn’t the only reason why you’d decided to play a harmless prank on your friend. 

This morning when you’d taken too long in the bathroom, Dean had shoved a giant plastic spider under the door to smoke you out. It had led to an unfortunate incident with you racing out of the bathroom screaming for him to kill it, clad only in a towel while Dean filmed you on his phone and laughed until he had tears in his eyes. 

Your revenge would be swift and merciless.

As soon as he had rounded the corner you’d slid across the worn leather front seat, put Baby in reverse, pulled out of the parking spot and backed her into the adjacent alley, just out of view. You’d then crossed the street to the small grocery store and asked the shop owner if you could borrow five loose dried beans. He’d obliged you with an odd look on his face, but you didn’t care. 

You’d never cared that people thought you were weird, you hunted creatures that no one believed, weird was every day of your life. Not to mention you were sure that you'd go stir crazy if you were stuck anywhere "normal."

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean calls walking towards you, a fresh newspaper crinkling in his hand and a coffee carrier with two mugs sitting snugly inside. His smile drops as he surveys the empty street. “Where’s Baby? Did you take her to a car wash?”

“Dean, the most amazing thing happened!” You bounced from the bench, a wide smile on your face. “I was sitting here minding my business and this guy showed up-“

“He carjacked you?!” Dean shouts, eyes widening. His body tenses and you watch him begin to look up and down the street frantically for some glimpse of Baby.

It was like your best friend to jump to the worst conclusion, and given what the two of you did for a living it was a valid assumption. 

“No, let me finish!” You wave a hand with a laugh. “He complimented the car, asked me what year she was, what engine she had under the hood- etc. Finally, he told me that he wanted to buy her.”

“This better not be where I think it’s going.” Dean’s eyes narrow, suspicion swimming in the familiar green hue. 

Over the years as the two of you aged, Dean’s eyes never did. They were still the same shade of green like the ferns that lived on a well-watered forest floor, the color of a pine tree that unfurled it’s leaves in the warm summer months and reached to the sky, and they were lecked with gold that caught in the afternoon sun when it hung directly overhead. 

You continue hiding your amusement at his reaction with much difficulty, trying to channel the laugh bubbling up into false excitement. 

He really had this coming.

“So I told him. This car is worth more than money and he goes, ‘oh it’s sentimental?’ and I said yes, and I thought he was going to leave, But then he says ‘well I don’t have cash but what I do have are-’“ You reach into your jacket pocket, it’s really Dean’s, but he’d put it around your shoulders at the diner when a blast of air-conditioning made you shiver. “BAM!” 

You hold out your palm and show Dean the five dried beans from your pocket, pausing for effect.

Dean’s gaze drops to your hand, not quite comprehending what you were trying to say. “What the hell are those?" 

“Magic beans!” This time you wiggle your fingers mysteriously, allowing the smile you were trying to hold back stretch over your face.

Dean’s eye begins to twitch. “Please tell me that you stole them from him and you took Baby to a carwash.”

As if Dean would let anyone other than himself wash his car.

“Nope. I told him that he had a deal.” You smile wider. 

Your friend looks like he’s about to faint and spontaneously combust at the same time when he realizes exactly what you said. His expression freezes somewhere between horror and realization, looking from your open palm to the empty street as if to confirm what you’ve already admitted aloud.

 “You sold my car for magic beans?” Dean shouts so loud that you’re sure somewhere in the midwest a murder of crows all rose from the earth in an angry swarm. You can imagine them, black plumage running together into the sky, ink over paper, oil on water. 

The people walking by stop and look at the two of you.

“Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything!” You argue, again fighting a smile. “I’m sure that-”

“That doesn’t matter if he had an eyepatch and a peg-leg! You sold Baby! You sold my car! How would you like it if I took your first child?” The coffee in the carrier sloshes with Dean’s gestures so much that he thinks better of it and puts down the carrier on the bench you vacated to tell him the “good news.”

“Calm down Rumplestilskin! These are magic beans!” You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

It wasn’t so hard to fake it given that you were still angry from the spider prank this morning. 

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you understand what it means!”

“It means that they are worth a million times what Baby was! I could get you a hundred Impalas with these bad boys! And I’ll demonstrate!” You hold them up triumphantly before hurling them to the warm soil underneath the tree to your left. 

You wait a beat, pretending to be interested in the reddish brown kidney beans that turn a burnished orange in the light of the sun. 

A car drives by, the clouds continue to float above your head, the wind picks up to sift through your hair, but nothing happens to the beans

Predictably.

“Huh.” You muse, biting your lip to keep yourself from giggling. “Maybe they’re slow acting?” 

“Or you sold my car for a bag full of shit!” Dean runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands so hard you think he'll pull them out.

“Maybe I’m using them wrong? They didn’t come with instructions.” You say, pating your pockets as if looking for something and continuing to ignore Dean. "Maybe we need to sing or something. Quick, pick a song!"

Your chest was burning from keeping the laugh at bay, jaw aching from keeping the smile that wished to break through. 

I have to be strong. Just for a few more seconds. This will be worth it. 

Honestly, it already was. 

You begin to hum the beginning of ACDC's Thunderstruck, pinching your lips together as you do and avoid Dean's murderous gaze.

“Oh for the love of- CAS!” Dean’s eye is still twitching when he roars the angel’s name, not looking away from you as he does.

“What?” Cas says, appearing behind Dean with his usual frown, eyebrows furrowed together. His trenchcoat is pristine, billowing slightly in the breeze that picks up at his appearance.

“Take me to my car.” Dean demands to the angel, who looks at him like he’s crazy. 

“That’s why you called me here?” Cas raises an eyebrow.

“Yes! Take me to my car CAS!” Dean shouts even louder.

Some of the people at the coffee shop two doors down lean back in their chairs, staring in your direction, curious about what's going on.

“He’s not a lojack system.” You clear your throat to hide the giggle. 

Oh this is so much better than when I changed out his shampoo with blue hair dye.

“I don’t want to hear it from you.” Dean points an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“I don’t know where you car is Dean.” Cas replies.

Dean’s eye continues to twitch, until finally he lets out a high pitched. “Son of a bitch!"

Dean takes off in a dead run down the sidewalk in the direction he came from, shouting "I'm coming Baby! Hold on!" His voice echoes over the buildings that line the street as he almost crashes into an older man who's out walking a small dog in a bright pink sweater.

The laugh finally breaks free from your lips in a strangled cackle as you film Dean running away from you, before sending it to Sam. It was the same thing that Dean had done with his video of you and it was only fair for Sam to give him as much crap as he'd given you when he called to laugh at you after receiving Dean's text.

“You didn’t really sell his car did you?” Cas asks, while you continue to wheeze, gasping for breath on the sidewalk. 

“Nah-" You choke out. "I wouldn’t do that. I know how much he loves her. She’s in the alley.” You gesture with your head back behind you. “Bastard put a plastic spider under the bathroom door this morning. Scared the shit out of me.” 

Cas looks confused. “A plastic spider?”

“Yeah, he knows I hate spiders.” 

“But if you knew it was plastic why were you frightened?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t know it was plastic.”

“Oh.” He still looks confused so you reach over and give him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder to reassure him. 

You didn’t have many interactions with the angel, but you took it as your job to make sure he understood some things about human life.

So far it didn't appear to be helping.

“It’s alright Cas, you can go back to whatever it was you were doing.”

He nods once and vanishes before you can say anything else. 

You sit back down on the bench laughing to yourself into your coffee mug while Dean comes running back up the street.

“Why the hell are you still sitting here? We have to find her! Who knows what that freak could have done to her!” Dean exclaims, shaking your shoulders.

“How does it feel to be faced with your worst fear?” You smirk while taking a calm sip of your coffee. “Payback is a bitch isn’t it Winchester?"

Dean’s face goes from worried to angry in a heartbeat. “Are you friggin kidding me?! You pretended that you sold my car because of the shower thing?”

“And because you stole the last bite of my pie!” 

“I’ve stolen the last bite before-”

“Then you had it coming.” You take another sip of coffee with a triumphant smile.

“Wow. Just wow.” Dean frowns at you. “I hate you.”

“I know.” You smile wider, patting him on the back. “I hate you too buddy. Now come on let’s go see if there’s anything here to do."

“You do realize this isn’t over right?” Dean says as you begin to walk towards the alley where you hid Baby.

You stop to look over at your friend. “Wait, what?”

“This isn’t over.” Dean repeats.

“I think it is-”

“Nope.” He shakes his head, determination flashing in his eyes. “I’m just getting started.”

You stand there for a moment, taking in the serious expression on your friend’s face. You saw all the hardened edges of his jaw, dusted with scruff that made him look just a little more wild. 

Fine. 

You step closer to him, so close you can smell the shampoo he stole from you this morning, without blinking an eye at his display. “It’s cute that you think you can win.” 

Dean’s smirk grows wider, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I always win, Sweetheart, one way or another.”

The world continues to spin, the birds above caw and flap their wings, the wind brings the smell of coffee and autumn, but Dean’s eyes remain on yours, unmoving, unwavering.

It didn't scare you.

“Then bring it on, Winchester.” 

A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write! Imagining Dean running down the street screaming "I'm coming Baby" made me cackle 🤣 But thank you so much again @waynes-multiverse for giving me this prompt!

If anyone else would like to ask me for a prompt for my prompt celebration there are still some left!

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰 Also, if you'd like to be added to one of my taglists for the characters I write, please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies

[butyouaremymess]

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