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songmingisthighs · 24 days ago

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[5.45] boyfriend!mingi × reader (ft. ateez, esp wooyoung)

⇀ birthday surprise gone horribly wrong

⇁ now ya'll know that i watch reddit stories videos on yt a wee bit too much

genre : angst

warning : mingi is a jerk, wooyoung likes butting in, public humiliation,

wc : 2.1 k

buy me coffee ?

"This party is so great!" Your friend squealed, giving you a side hug as you grinned widely in happiness. "I know!" you let her go to face your boyfriend, "And it's all thanks to Mingi," you leaned to kiss him on the lips but he looked away last minute and took a sip of his drink, causing you to miss his lips. "Don't sweat it," Mingi said, or more likely muttered. "I got to..." he trailed off before walking away, pointing at the direction of his friends.

It was odd for him to be so... quiet with you. It was rather worrying, actually.

Just as you were about to go over to ask Mngi what was wrong, your friend pulled you aside to a corner with an amused grin on her face. "A little birdie told me your boyfriend prepared a surprise," she excitedly whispered, almost squealing. "What? What are you talking about?" you blinked confusedly. "Well, I was talking to some of the girls who wanted to go home early because they live rather far but Wooyoung insisted that they stay because, as he said it, they're going to want to," she winked. Still confused, you narrowed your eyes at her, "And... why would that be? It's probably a cake or they want to perform a Britney Spears song in which it would make sense that Wooyoung would want them to stay." Exasperatedly, your friend scoffed and punched you lightly on your shoulder, "Dude! Mingi is going to propose to you!"

Though you didn't believe her, your face went red and you immediately shot the idea down, "No way! Are you crazy? We've been dating for like 7 months, I haven't even brought up the fact that my parents wanted to meet him! I've been so panicked over all this, I'm still thinking of ways to tell him," you huffed. In that moment, you looked sideways and your eyes met with Mingi. The way he was looking at you was like a smoulder, it sent chills down your spine due to its intensity. You shot him a smile and a small wave, hoping that Mingi would reciprocate in the creative, adorable ways he usually does. But this time, he simply pursed his lips and nodded once at you before averting his gaze, rendering you slightly confused but you try to let him be, thinking that maybe he was just over-stimulated due to the crowd of people in your place. Your friend simply shrugged, "I don't know, I know people who got married after 3 months because they just KNOW they're with the one. Or because they got knocked up, I guess. But anyway, I think something serious is happening down the line and I hope everyone's ready to see it."

"Hi everyone, thank you for attending (y/n)'s surprise party!" Wooyoung's voice caught everyone's attention almost immediately, "We have another surprise so can I please ask for your attention?" "Attention whore!" Yunho jokingly yelled from the back, causing the crowd to laugh and Wooyoung to flip him off. "Anyway, as I was saying before some BITCH cut me off, I'm really happy to see so many people here and I can only assume that it's a testament to how many people love (y/n) and if you agree, let's give a round of applause to her!" and the whole room erupted into roars of claps and people whooping you, rendering you shy as you drop your head and tried to hold in your mouth-ripping grin. The attention occupied your senses so much that you didn't realize that there was one person in the room who didn't join the mass, the one person who mattered most to you.

"That being said, I'm sure (y/n) reciprocates your love for her so in a way, we can say that (y/n) loves a lot of people," Wooyoung said and if you focus on his face, you could see a slight smirk blooming, almost taunting, "And recently we found out that there is a person that (y/n) seem to love a little bit more than others." When Wooyoung turned to cue something up with Mingi helping him, you managed to let the words sink in and when it settled, you found yourself confused. What was Wooyoung talking about? The only person who could have fit such a description was Mingi but he didn't look too happy right at that moment. But the biggest shock didn't come until the TV was turned on and you saw pictures of you that you've never seen before/

Wooyoung stepped back and grinned mischievously, "Now, we see just HOW MUCH (y/n) can love a person even if that person is not her boyfriend, my dear boy Mingi." He pressed on the laptop that was connected to the TV and showed a similar picture of you sitting in front of a guy who you had been seeing quite frequently. "Now you might be wondering, who is this well-dressed man? Where were they? What's going on here? Why were they meeting up?" There were at least three more pictures of the same situation from different angles and seeing them felt like you were being splashed with cold water. "Well, I think the right question should've been 'how long did they think they could hide this shit from her own boyfriend?' right?"

People around you started whispering while glancing at you, talking about the fact that you had just been caught cheating. The happy look on your face as you hugged the guy in the picture and the way you simply found comfort in his embrace was not making the situation any better. Honestly, the situation was worse because of it, especially for Mingi who was trying his best to not look at the pictures again. When Wooyoung came to him with those pictures, he didn't want to believe that you were cheating on him, someone as sweet as you, someone who had openly and verbally appreciated and loved him and even made a promise not to hurt him. That was a week ago and Mingi had had half a mind to cancel the birthday surprise party he had meticulously planned for you (it was mostly Yunho and Jongho because had it been left completely to Mingi, the party would just be two pizzas and some beer with streamers as decoration), but Wooyoung had another idea that he thought would be MUCH better. Wooyoung was looking proud of himself for revealing that while Mingi was glaring at you, looking visibly angry with the way he was breathing heavily. "Well, do you have anything to say to your BOYFRIEND, (y/n)?"

Your brain was on the verge of collapsing due to information rushing into your brain all at once, not knowing which, who, or where to address first.

It was then that the front door opened and closed and you heard people gasping in surprise.

How can they not? The guy in the picture in front of them was standing there with a gift in hand.

"What's going on?" he asked, confused, looking around at the people staring, pointing at him.

His voice seem to broke you out of your trance and your eyes immediately watered. Tears of embarrassment started pouring out of your eyes as you looked up at him.

"Seonghwa," you choked out, calling for him.

Seeing you in such a state, Seonghwa's eyes widened and he dropped the gift in panic, "(y/n), what's wrong? What happened?" Seonghwa was about to step forward to you when Wooyoung scoffed, "Of course he's here to hide in plain sight, throwing off people because who would imagine the accomplice to be together so blatantly, right?" Some people laughed at Wooyoung's jab and it was at that moment you completely broke and your dashed to your room. Once your door slammed shut, your best friend stepped up and pushed Wooyoung harshly, sending him reeling a few steps back. "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" she screamed, "Why would you make a spectacle like this!?" Wooyoung huffed and regained his composure, but Mingi shot back at her, "Are you seriously condoning her action? She betrayed me and you think attacking Wooyoung is okay? It's bad enough she broke my trust, she HAD to have him here too?" Mingi spat as he jabbed his thumb at Seonghwa's direction.

Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed, "Excuse me?" Mingi finally stepped up and went face-to-face with Seonghwa and his 6 ft stature easily towered over Seonghwa. Despite that, Seonghwa didn't waver for a bit. "You have some nerve coming here. Don't you have some shame?" Mingi asked. Still confused, Seonghwa could only stare at Mingi in disbelief, "What are you talking about? (y/n) invited me, what do you mean I have some nerve?" "Can you blame (y/n)'s boyfriend when you were caught getting all cosy with (y/n) behind his back? What were you even trying to do anyway?" Wooyoung piped back up/

When Seonghwa averted his eyes to Wooyoung, he finally realized the picture of him hugging you on the screen. "I was congratulating her on how serious her relationship had become with her boyfriend and I was telling her that I'd have her back when she finally decided to introduce her boyfriend to her parents," he said matter-of-factly. At the mention of being introduced to your parents, Mingi's heart skipped a beat for a moment but he kept his resolve. "And which boyfriend were you talking about, Mingi or you?" Wooyoung smirked.

Almost immediately, Seonghwa's face scrunched into cringe and he reeled back as if he had just gotten hit, "Ew! I'm her cousin!"

The whole room froze, especially Mingi and Wooyoung who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"What?" Mingi whispered, needing a confirmation.

"I'm (y/n)'s cousin. We met up because she asked me for my help to support her AND YOU when you go to meet her parents. They have been pressuring her and she thought she finally found someone she could bring home," realization dawned on Seonghwa and his initial confusion melted into disgust, "Now, I think she's wrong."

Wooyoung's eyes widened and so did Mingi's. They were left gaping like fishes out of the water, not knowing how to react as they processed the fact that they had just made themselves not only look like idiots but also assholes.

The sound of a door slamming was heard and you showed up with eyes red, cheeks wet, and bottom lip trembling. Surprisingly (to everyone and even himself), Mingi was the first one to rush to you, crouching to look you in the eyes but you simply looked to the side, avoiding his gaze. "Baby, are you okay? I-I'm- I- Can we talk?" It was practically pathetic that Mingi switched his demeanour so quickly, but it was the first thing that he could think of.

"Get me out of here," you croaked, the brokenness of your voice tugged the strings of Mingi's heart as the guilt of what he did started to accumulate. "You wanna get out of here? Okay, we can do it, I'll get you out. Where do you want to go to? I-I can find somewhere or do you somewhere in mind already? I know it's just-" "Seonghwa," You cut him off, ignoring him as you looked up straight to your cousin, "Please get me out of here."

You didn't have to say twice before Seonghwa rushed to you, pushing Mingi out of the way (obviously intentionally) to get you out. When you walked past him, Mingi finally saw the large bag you had in your hand and the sight served as concrete proof of how much he fucked up.

On your way out, Seonghwa managed to scoop the birthday present he had accidentally dropped and momentarily turned around to glare at Mingi, "I'm taking this because my favourite cousin deserves one good thing now after what you did and you can bet I'm turning this day around for her," he hissed before finally leaving with you who couldn't even spare one last glance at anyone else and no one could blame you.

Silence hung in the air for two minutes before guests started trickling out, muttering shit excuses like having a curfew or needing to relieve their cat-sitter until there were just your friends and Mingi's inside. Your friend glared at Mingi and Wooyoung with so much disgust, they might as well have been chin-deep in a vat of butcher scraps mixed with manure. "I hope you're fucking happy doing this on her birthday you sick fucks," she spat before turning and leaving, the other people in your friend group joining. After they all left, Yunho and Jongho stayed back, looking at their friends in disbelief because they never thought their friends could pull something like that.

"You couldn't have asked her first or gather more evidence?" Jongho asked, scoffing. Wooyoung flipped him off while Mingi let out a sharp exhale as he slid down the wall behind him, "Shut up man," he halfheartedly muttered.

Served him right.

network :

@sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @itasluv @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @stopeatread

@yoonjunshi @hongjoong-lovebot

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sapphiresaphics · 2 months ago

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I think what bothers me the most about a lot of the arcane criticism is how anti-creative it ends up being. Even well meaning criticisms such as “it needed another season” or “we needed one more episode for things to cook properly” come across to me as really defeatist.

Arcane is one of the most ambitious animated projects in recent memory. It’s one of the most expensive animated TV shows ever produced. It took over 6 years just to get a first season into production. It features a massive amount of talent from all over the industry from voice actors, to animators, to music producers and writers. Its narrative is challenging and complex but easily digestible and gorgeous to watch. There are tons of hidden details, a world that is fleshed out to an absurd degree, and fan service for longtime gamers. Its characters are morally grey and complicated, and the debates around said characters continues long after the show ended.

In this day and age of recycled copy/pasted mediocre products shoved down our throats to say Arcane was ambitious is an understatement. By all accounts… this should have FAILED.

But it didn’t. It’s a MASTERCLASS of filmmaking and storytelling. Nearly every episode is highly rated and ranked. It’s one of the highest received and watched shows on Netflix.

So when I see people say “it didn’t quite stick to landing” or say “it tried to do too much,” I just feel… exhausted.

What MORE do you people want? How much more perfection can they force into a product like this? If the creatives tried THIS HARD and spent THAT MUCH to make a product THIS BELOVED… and you’re STILL not satisfied… what are we even doing anymore? And by extension… what’s that mentality say to all of us smaller independent creators who just want to make stuff?

Some people are spurned by criticism to strive to do better. But in my experience that is a rare breed and more often than not when you give something your all and are received with disappointment you end up internalizing that disappointment and not doing the thing anymore.

Is it not better that the creatives tried and were ambitious and that their ambitions didn’t quite make it all the way but they still made a quality product that is more than just a sum of its parts, than if they just didn’t bother trying at all? Isn’t it better that we try and come up short than to never try? Isn’t it better they still managed to make a successful show that millions of people love, than to make a dumpster fire that alienated people and killed the franchise?

I’m not saying you can’t criticize the show. Every work of media deserves some level of criticism. But I just feel like the HEIGHTS that this show reaches for are SO HIGH that it almost feels greedy and entitled to try and bring it down to the levels of the SLOP we get from Disney or Marvel or DC every few years.

When is see intense hatred and criticism lobbied at Arcane I just feel like “why bother trying?” Why bother trying to do anything innovate or wild or creative and ambitious if it’s going to be met with such unrelenting hatred and stupidity. Why should I subject myself to that level of scrutiny and rejection?

If arcane is a master class made by some of the most talented people on the planet and it’s STILL not good enough… then what hope do I have?

Why should I even try?

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #I know this is projection #I have RSD and criticism is sensitive to me #creativity #arcane season 1 #arcane series #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends #league of legends arcane

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minkieater · 5 months ago

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tide | khj

pairing. rich!hj x f!reader genre. non idol au, toxic relationship, soulmates warnings. substances, consumption, mental health, sexual content minors dni PLS wc. 5.5k

♫ — the broken one, qm ft. jiung “when you said that you wish the two of us could die together, i just pat your head and say i know.”

the best way you’d ever described your relationship is adjacent to a children’s movie, and for that comparison you feel wrong, but nothing else comes close. when alice fell down that hole and her entire world flipped upside down, changing everything she once thought she knew, it was the epitome of years of your life spent with him. you being alice, hongjoong being… everyone else. the mad hatter, cheshire cat, the red queen, white queen, the jabberwocky, the rabbit, he was everyone, all the time, all at once. your life, the riddles, everything but nothing making sense at the same time. there was nothing else you could possibly compare it to, two emotionally adolescent humans in adult bodies.

neither of you had ever been angry people by nature. in fact, you had always been deemed quite the opposite. hongjoong, older and successful, a man consumed by his work but always made time for the people around him — he shows up for birthdays, impromptu get togethers, graduations, backyard parties… despite his ever growing workload, he always put in the effort to be there. and not just be present, either. he’s always been observant, even in the beginning, showing up when you least expected it. after the longest, hardest day, with flowers and your favorite food in tow, he’s always been a true partner.

you’re not much different. the parties hongjoong always shows up to typically had you behind the curtain. planning, decorating, even picking up the tab… you’re the epitome of loyalty. devotion, creativity, passion. you’d bettered him as a person, in his work, in his relationships, in his productivity. you love to help and you love to love, you surround yourself with people who give that back to you tenfold in a heartbeat.

in the beginning, you thrived. you worked together harmoniously, you were patient with each other, compassionate, so stupidly in love…

“would you marry me?” a starless night, on the rooftop of his ever luxurious loft. his hair is black, a cigarette between his lips, his sweet chocolate eyes the brightest light amongst the dark, empty air.

you knew you had never answered any question with such a quickness as you did that one. you don’t think you’d even muttered the word no to him in the six months you’ve been together.

he handed you the cigarette he knew you were craving, a habit you picked up from him and him alone. one habit you didn’t share before you’d met. his stare is intense, the gleam in his eyes is bold, it’s saying a million words yet not one leaves his rose colored lips. words you know, words you’ve said, words he hasn’t returned. but he does, he will, eventually.

“we’re forever then,” it could be a question but it feels more like a statement, an announcement of sorts, a promise that you could never break. you had no choice in the matter, not that you needed one, not that you could imagine a life without him after so little time of knowing him.

it made you smile through the burn in the back of your throat, a long exhale leaving your lips, gray smoke following suit. in went your solitude, out came the pact you made with him under the moonlight. like the smoke, it faded into thin air, never to be taken back.

“we became forever six months ago,” you handed the cigarette back to him, your fingers touching for a just a moment in passing. his smile reached his eyes, creases in his skin that you would run your fingers over in the dim light of his bedroom. every inch of him, burned to memory.

“we became forever the day you were born, doll. just took until six months ago to find me,” the tobacco was between his lips again, wrapped around the circular stick, always glossy. never chapped, never dry, always swollen and sultry. edible.

time went on, days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. you initially thought hongjoong didn’t have a bad side, eternally a happy and exemplary lover. to be fair, you didn’t think you had one either. there’s a saying for that, right? you bring out the worst in each other? but they’re traits that are embedded in you. when the stars aligned the day you were born, you were gifted them, wrapped in sparkling wine colored paper and you just didn’t get around to opening them until someone fought fire with fire.

you’d never yelled at a friend, let alone a lover, in your life. he’d never once been angry enough to remove himself from an entire room, have to excuse himself from the woman across from him because her voice took up too much space, smothered him in his own home. the one thing that kept you two linked, from the bedroom with the door locked to the couch all the way out in the living room, was how fucking obsessed with the other you were.

it was sick, the heaviest sensation the two of you shared. lust, love, adoration, codependency, everything came right under obsession if you could even rank your feelings. most days, everything just blended together, anyways. from the moment your eyes met, really met for the first time, it was cataclysmic, the soul you knew just by his gaze that you shared. the click that linked the two of you for life.

the air of the club was humid, wet and murky, too many people in too small of a space. you were at a sponsored event for work, dressed too classy for the place you were at, all the bodies around you covered in way less fabric. you were one track minded when it came to work — always looking upward, fighting to climb endless ranks, you could never rest. never break concentration.

until the biggest distraction stared at you three people down, stood around the curve of the bar while you waited on your cocktail. he moved with a fluidity similar to water, a wave, an ocean as he waltzed into your space. behind you, he slipped his card down over your shoulder onto your tab before you could even reach for the cash in your purse.

“nice play,” you glanced over your shoulder, greeted with teeth as white as snow, glistening hues of pink and blue from the dance floor cascading over the impressive structure of his face, “thank you.”

“a pretty drink for a pretty girl,” you glance down at the red cherries sitting in your cocktail, a mixture of yellow and orange sitting in your glass, mimicking a sunrise swirling around the cubes of ice.

a laugh escaped you, “i’d rate that pick up line a 7, i suppose.”

he answers with a shrug, “anything above a 5 is a win for me. hongjoong,” his hand reaches out to shake yours and you’re taken aback, almost shocked at the gesture of a simple handshake around the bar at a more than busy nightclub. it told you more than it should, coming up on years of business under your belt, it seemed more like a proposition than an introduction.

in that moment you saw him, you saw through him, you saw deep down inside and you couldn’t crawl your way out if you scratched and clawed your nails down to stubs. he was like you, apart of your world, higher up, even. he came from class, he came from money, he came from importance. he’s handsome, he’s gorgeous, and jesus christ he’s going to ruin your fucking life if you let him. you’d let him do anything.

your work event was long forgotten the second the two of you made eye contact, your attendance was the only thing mandatory, anyhow. a night of freedom, letting go of subjugation from your company as you spent ages with your back pressed to his front, bodies moving as one to the beat of whatever song played through the speakers. one melody after another, you don’t know how many songs have passed before you've faced him, hands around his neck, one of his legs between yours.

“you’re beautiful,” he says, noses nearly touching, wanting to curse the millimeter standing between himself and the rest of his life. a moment of pressure from you stood over his knee and he decided he’d never needed something so bad, his stomach growling with a hunger he was saving for a single taste of you.

“yeah?” your smile turned mischievous, a dangerous game you were playing, he’d strip you down in front of the entire club, fuck you in front of every man in the building. that’s if he could live with himself letting anyone besides him see you like that, which he couldn’t, of course. your outfit left too much to the imagination, tight dress pants and a white top that clung to every inch of you. he needed to know what was underneath. he could imagine, picture you beneath the cotton, he could almost feel the soft plush of your thighs on his fingertips.

“prove it,” was all you said and it sold him of the only thing he had left. his pride, the thing he savored, he’d usually let anyone else take the reins with him, want him first, so he could drop them without a second thought. you wanted me, i never wanted you. always the predator, never the prey, even under the gaze of his evermore.

anyone that came before you, the several exes, plethora of playthings, he’d easily forget them, leave them all behind for a night with you. he wouldn’t settle for just a night with you, he won’t take anything less than eternity. your thin, tiny square lenses sitting low on your nose, your hair messily wrapped up on top of your head, lipstick still perfectly applied on your lips, the way you were so meticulously put together… it was a primal urge, the need to ruin it, ruin you, keep you forever, just for himself.

you weren’t doing far off, core aching for a kiss, a touch, anything to take the edge off. something about sharing a soul meant you could see his and it stood tall and red and rippled in the wind and screamed at you to let him make the first move. he needed to lay his cards on the table, make his blood stained soul turn white, let him give himself to you before you gave yourself to him. you listened, as much as it wounded you, his glossy lips begging you to close the distance, to taste him, to hurry up and move on with eternity because time waits for no one.

you could see his internal battle, there were several going on in the mere moment that lasted for hours. the battle of your beings, still separated not yet merged, yet still transparent for the other to see. the battle of him with himself, his pride, his masculinity, this routine he’s been performing for the past six years. your battle with him, begging him to give into you, to show you what he’s made of, to show you what color he bleeds. your battle with yourself, your self control to listen to whatever is telling you to let him give in first. you knew he would, he knew he would, it was a waiting game.

once he said fuck it and he raised his white flag, his soul changed color as his lips tasted yours. one kiss in the middle of a crowded dance floor, overflowed enough that other people’s sweat was mixing with your own, music pumping through your veins, the world had shifted. tectonic plates couldn’t compare, couldn’t move you the way hongjoong did in that very moment.

this combining, this merging, this tasting of his soul, the atoms that make up his very being, you consumed it all entirely. the good, the bad, the complicated, the opulent, the rough, the agonizing, you could feel all of it in him. you needed more.

it wasn’t always like that, wasn’t always intoxicating, blinding, all consuming. the obsession was beautiful, addicting, similar to the box of tobacco you now kept in your back pocket. it translated to tenderness, intimacy, warmth, it was one of a kind. one that sparked jealousy from others, one that closed its doors on anyone who dared to peer inside. it was personal, only to be enjoyed by the two of you, never shared. no one on this fucking earth could understand you the way hongjoong could, no one could read your mind, fix what needed to be fixed before it was even broken in the first place. he was a lifeline, a savior, a backbone for you. and you were all the same to him.

he’d never thought he could love anything the way he loves you. his music, his art, his life, he’d throw everything away if that meant one more second spent with you. you were water to him the way he was air to you, the sun to him the way he was the moon to you. in every single lifetime you know hongjoong has been your missing link, two fucked up pieces that finally finished the puzzle. when put together, everything made sense. you were complete.

“mm, maybe a half an hour longer?” his smile is sheepish, almost embarrassed to say the same answer he’d given you thirty minutes prior.

a knowing smile grows on your face, how could you be mad at him? your hard working boyfriend, forever sitting behind a screen, making deadlines meet. when he said half an hour, he meant two hours. when he said twenty minutes, he meant an hour. his language is exclusive to only him, it takes someone who really knows him, really understands him for his dialect to be construed.

you went to bed, surrounded by white walls with monochromatic paintings that didn’t have any real meaning. the room was big, too big to be comforting. too empty to be lived in, especially without him beside you. it’s how the whole loft felt: picturesque, a movie set, a bed, bathroom and kitchen without being a home. you could have a photoshoot here anytime with the natural light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, but could you raise a family? could you settle here, in this city?

you kept your eyes closed, searching for sleep that didn’t want to be found. pulling the comforter over you, you nuzzled in, cocooned yourself into the mongolian cashmere that threatened you with its heat.

“going to sleep this early? that’s no fun,” you heard his voice before the patter of his familiar footsteps, a rhythm you’d memorized months ago. he climbs into the california king, searching for you, finding you, kissing you. “what’s got you wrapped up like this? missed me?”

you nodded, bottom lip jutting out, feeling so small even with him here, this huge bed engulfing you. you needed his heat, his touch, his skin on yours, you wanted comfort.

“my girl,” he cooed, fingers running through your hair, messily sprawled across the silk pillowcase, “i missed you too.”

kisses that were peppered along your jaw turned heated before you could notice his mood had changed. as his tongue licked up the base of your neck you whined, pressing yourself into him, mindlessly begging for more.

“needy girl,” he teased as he pulled the blankets off of you, mongolian cashmere be damned. you wore one of his shirts, oversized enough to be a dress. he pushed it up past your stomach, pleasantly surprised with the lack of anything underneath.

“ah, my needy girl is clever, hm? planned this, did you?” his smirk stretched across his face, eyes deepening to the richest, darkest brown, reflecting the ecuadorian chocolates he bought you months ago, a gift on a random thursday.

“and what if i did?” you’d been pleading for him to come to bed for ages, begging him to fill more space in this empty room. you’d been prepared to try anything, stopped only by his mask of concentration.

“then you’re in luck,” before you knew it he’d already slipped inside you, your back arching against the texture of the percale sheets beneath you. he’d wrecked you, as he did every time, swapping spit and cum and secrets, exposing skin and feelings and truths.

every time the sex was this sweet, this melodious, he’d tell you exactly how he felt about you. he’d make you feel it.

“fuck, i fucking love you,” he was buried to the hilt, holding your face between two cold hands, “could die right here inside you a happy man.”

you couldn’t do anything but moan, clenching around him, your coming answer enough.

“want me to fill you up?” he’d asked, thrusts turning rougher, more sporadic, the finish line nearing, “yeah? give you my kids? make you a mommy?”

you locked your ankles behind his back, this wasn’t the first time you’d done this. an iud sat inside you, still working perfectly fine, his proposal wouldn’t come to fruition with you like this. you still nod, whimpers leaving your throat, low babbles of begs for him to fill you.

he always did, always carried you to the bath after, always washed your hair, your body, maybe filled you up once more if you felt like it.

“do you want to stay here? in this city?” the bath had run lukewarm at this point, but you didn’t want to separate, didn’t want to spend a moment not pressed against one another.

“for now, i think so, why?” his hand was traveling up and down your arm that hung outside the tub, your head laid against his chest.

“when we have kids… i don’t know about raising them here,” your voice was small, unsure of where his mind would go with your sudden revelation.

“we have a long way to go before then,” he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. you stayed quiet, fingertips inaudibly tapping the side of the tub.

“this been bothering you?” his other hand moves to grip your jaw, a light touch to twist your head, making you look up at him.

“i wouldn’t say it’s bothering me, but anything can happen, i was just thinking about it,” even the bathroom is too big, too lifeless to be a home. marble tile, his and hers vanities, a detached, massive shower, a bidet on the toilet. you couldn’t picture smaller you’s running around in here.

“we’re already playing with fire, i guess,” he leans his head back on the tub, “where do you dream of going? if i could build a house from the ground up for you, where? what would it look like?”

like a scene from the notebook, your heart twisted, bursting at the seams with the unbelievable amount of what you felt for him. so you told him, a rancher, a farm, somewhere quiet and peaceful. a house that felt lived in, one appropriate to raise a family, one that wasn’t perfectly dusted and organized all the time. picture frames littering shelves, toys randomly left across the house, clothes on the floor of the bedroom. you wanted normalcy, you wanted warmth, you wanted a family.

he wanted nothing more than to give you that. within two weeks he’d been in contact with several realtors, purchasing land on the countryside, finding the perfect plot for you two to raise your little family. he’d pictured you in a pair of boots, a tee shirt, an old, big pair of overalls. your stomach swollen, hair messily wrapped up, walking in the barn, feeding the chickens. his heart warmed, and his dick so quickly rose again, twitching behind your back.

how a love so beautiful, so unique could get so fucked up, you couldn’t understand, not even three years later. you didn’t want to understand, though, and neither did he. you don’t care, neither of you do, because the only thing that matters is that he is still near you. close to you. breathing your air, touching your skin, whispering the most vile shit into your ear, he is here. you needed him closer, needed him so close that you merged into one. it’s never enough, it’ll never be enough, more of him, always more of him, always more of you.

he felt the same way. your breath on his skin, your saliva drying on his neck, he wanted more. he wanted it messier, he wanted it sloppier. he wanted it to never end. but the two of you will never end because you’re meant for each other, right? there’s no one else on this planet for him, billions of people and he’s found his other half already. she’s under him, she’s breathing, she’s screaming, she’s beautiful. he’s so lucky.

which is why it makes sense to no one that they don’t see either of you anymore. usually one of you, here and there, never together. never holding hands, never smiling at each other, never touching the other one’s hair, never fixing the other one a plate. never together, but yet rarely apart. as far as everyone knows, you’re still together, they think? you are, you tell them that you are, hongjoong tells them that you are, but poor yeosang can’t understand why he doesn’t see his friends anymore. he misses their smiles, their laughs, their humor, their parties, their love. you miss it too, sometimes.

the truth is, your shared codependency turned into some warped fucking version of destruction where neither of you can stand to see other next to someone else. at clubs, at bars, at those backyard parties with your friends, god forbid you get too close to san. you swear to that same god if hongjoong spoke three more words to mina he’d be sleeping on the couch for weeks. everyone noticed, everyone could pick up on it easily. the side eye, outright glares across the room, hongjoong’s hand around your wrist like a pair of handcuffs. you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at your friend’s glances, their eyebrows furrowing in confusion, their questions that sat heavy in thin air without ever being spoken. you were too worried about what hongjoong was thinking. how angry he’d be, what it’d be like when you got home, if he’d even say a word to you the rest of the night. hongjoong was already cooking up his testimony, ready to tell you to stop being fucking insane and our friends are just friends, yet the double standard was always there. you’d use the same arguments against each other, have the same rebuttals. it got you nowhere, there was no resolution, there was just his california king and percale sheets. the cashmere blanket that laid over every argument, tucking it away tightly until the next time you unveiled it.

as much as your love fucked you up, made your brain not fucking work correctly, you couldn’t bear to think of a day where you’d be apart. couldn’t imagine your future not spent in that rancher on the countryside, children and chickens running amok.

when he told you his job was relocating him to the states, yet another huge city, you couldn’t breathe. for a full minute you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t function. your lifeline, your savior, your water, your moon, leaving you.

“i’ll start looking for a place for us,” he said so casually, too casually, scrolling on his phone, not even looking at you. the breath was sucked from your lungs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was blue.

“no, i won’t go,” you murmured out, clearly, unlike the stumbling of words in your mind, hot tears in your eyes and strain on your voice. you sat up in the california king, goosebumps raising on your bare body in the too cold bedroom.

“huh?” he finally tore his eyes from the screen, “what do you mean no?”

“i won’t fucking go, joong! you’re asking me to pick up my life and move to another country for your stupid job?” anger flushed through your veins, your voice raised, fire in your eyes. you turned to him in the bed, not even bothering to cover yourself with the sheets.

“my stupid job? my stupid job that pays for this place? pays the bills?” he sat up too quickly, his eyes were wide and oh boy was he angry, you hit a nerve there.

“i can pay the bills just as easily as you and you know that, hongjoong,” you bark back, tears close to boiling as they stream down your face, “i can’t leave my life. my career, my stability, my future, what the fuck did you think i was going to say? huh? yeah sure! let’s move out of the country! are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“your future? what the fuck am i then? just a placeholder for now?” he’s laughing with wide eyes and oh fuck it’s maniacal, ring covered fingers tugging at his white blonde roots. “i fucking knew it. you never planned a real future with me then, did you? all that talk about getting married, having kids, all of it just a fucking lie? a sick little joke to keep me with you, paying the rent? funding your little shopping sprees?”

“fuck you, hongjoong, you fucking know that’s not true,” you’re sobbing now, his words hitting their mark. you stood up and walked out to the living room, pulling the white, soft blanket with you.

your dream, your future, your life, crumbling around you. hongjoong was air to you, your moon, controlling the tide that pushed and pulled you closer or farther away from one another.

you’d never been dependent on anyone before him, never needed a moon to your sun, you shone brightly all by yourself at all times. even now, with him, you could easily survive without him. financially, at least. even in this big, lifeless loft you could support yourself, you were just as successful as he was, after all. but emotionally? actually living a life that he wasn’t involved in? you don’t think you’d survive it.

you could leave here, move with him, restart your life somewhere else. you wanted to do that, but in the countryside, this situation is completely different. this isn’t a choice. this is someone else making a decision and everyone expecting you to follow suit. what about what you needed? what about your job, that you adore? spent years climbing to where you are, you now have an entire team working under you. what about that team? your coworkers? your family, living close by? your friends, oh god your friends, ones you haven’t seen in an embarrassing amount of time… only months past twenty six, you could technically restart if you needed to. you just don’t want to. you needed hongjoong to not want to, either.

a moment barely passed before he’s beside you on the couch, tears pouring down your cheeks, face buried in the crook of his neck. he’s rubbing your back, kissing your head, whispering sweet nothings that’d always calm you when you broke down like this. he knows how to fix you, always stitching back together what he tore apart.

two months later, and you didn’t end up on that plane beside him. he had you really convinced, though, in the same way you convinced yourself: you’d leave your job, find one similar to yours in LA, climb the ranks, and be as successful as you are here, but there. you’d be just as devoted, passionate, happy.

ultimately, he thought he knew best, like he always does. he thinks he knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes. he knows you love your job, love your team, your coworkers, you love your position. you spent ages crawling your way up there. you love your friends, your family, you couldn’t leave them behind and still be happy. you’re a loyal woman in every aspect of your life, with your lover, your friends, your career. every small string is attached to what makes you, you. he knows you’d never be as happy as you are in this city, but he also knows you’d never let him go without you. so he left without a goodbye, without a parting gift, a farewell kiss, a last departing whisper of an i love you.

he left you alone, broken, empty.

a shell of who you once were.

what he didn’t take into consideration is that you love him more than anything, anyone. you were inconsolable. your friends didn’t know what to do with you. they wondered why you weren’t at hongjoong’s going away party, why they haven’t heard from you, they didn’t know everything he did was in secret. how word didn’t get passed around to you, you didn’t know, you were still furious about it. they didn’t know how to help you, they couldn’t even start to make sense of why your boyfriend of years would leave you without a second word. neither could you. they couldn’t wrap their minds around how you didn’t know he was leaving. neither could you.

that one long day you spent at work, coming home to a cold, massive, empty fucking apartment. not a trace of him, not one small sign that he ever lived there in the first place. he took all his clothes with him, all of his equipment for work, even his little trinkets… all gone. disappeared into thin air. how could you not fucking know?

you took almost a week off from work. something you rarely did, you felt like you couldn’t catch up, couldn’t manage your insanely busy schedule if you did take some personal time. but this was different. it wasn’t a week spent relaxing somewhere warm, it wasn’t a vacation, it wasn’t happy at all. you thought you felt your world crumble around you when he first broke the news, this was the real thing. this was the past three years of your life that had been devoted to one singe person, the person that mattered most, the person that you’d cross oceans and go to war for and he plucked himself directly from your life.

mina, yuna, yeosang, mingi… they were at your apartment around the fucking clock. they didn’t leave you alone, it was suffocating. you hadn’t left your bed for days, you weren’t eating, you weren’t drinking, you were too busy staring at the space above your dresser where a picture of the two of you once lived.

he didn’t call. in the year you spent apart, while you built yourself again piece by piece, rewiring your very brain chemistry, he didn’t call you. he blocked your number, blocked your social medias, blocked your family. you went through every outlet at first, every friend you shared, trying again and again, begging for just a conversation with him. never once did you get through, never once did you hear how he was, how the states are different from here, how he’s been eating, who he’s been with… god, who has he been with? he’s yours, no one else’s.

you lost weight, you lost sleep, you lost your drive, you lost yourself, fifty percent of you. your soul was somewhere so far you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t access it, in an entirely different fucking country, tens of thousands of miles away from you. bottles of liquor now sat in your pantry, cartons of cigarettes sprawled across the kitchen table, every hour of your free time spent in solitude, months upon months of you driving yourself mad.

you thought your bedroom felt empty before, unwelcoming, frigid, dispiriting, you couldn’t imagine being there without him, yet now you couldn’t bring yourself to go elsewhere. you took it for granted, having him here, you felt guilty for even thinking that you’d be happier somewhere else when you had the only thing you’ve ever needed in your possession.

but a year later, he stood on your doorstep, a doorstep you once shared. a doorstep that has seen you pressed up against the frame with his hand inside your skirt, a doorstep that’s listened to your meaningless arguments on your way home from an event, a doorstep that’s watched as you bid visitors goodbye. he’s there, he’s breathing, he’s living, he’s close to you. not close enough.

the earth had turned gray, the sunniest of days couldn’t make the city look saturated in the year you spent apart. all the usual too loud noise had turned to whispers, all the business couldn’t inflict an ounce of motivation in you. within seconds of seeing his face everything was colorful, the city had sound again, it was if someone flicked a switch sewn into your back.

“you’re a real piece of shit,” you bark out, opting to shut the door in his face. his foot slides between the door and the frame, his hand lurching forward to hold it open.

“i’m here,” is all he says, and you pause, looking up to him. he is here, and he’s real, and you can’t stop the tears from forming.

hi friends! first post of my work on here <3 i have not posted any of my writing since i was probably 16... pls be nice to me

massive shoutout to @chimivx, thank you for getting me back into it and giving me the courage to post :,) love u forever

anyways i love hongjoong hope u enjoyed xoxo

love, t ｡ ★ • *

265 notes · View notes

tosomeonessomeone · 10 days ago

Text

irony in harmony.

words・ 7.9k /pairings・ Seungmin x reader / genres・fluff / warnings・ little bit spicy?

The studio was buzzing with energy, a rare kind of electricity that only came when creative minds collided. Y/N adjusted her headphones, her fingers flying over the soundboard as she fine-tuned the latest track. Her two best friends, Mia and Jisoo, were deep in discussion with the Stray Kids members, their voices a low hum in the background. The room was a chaotic blend of laughter, technical jargon, and the occasional burst of music.

Y/N was the visual director of their trio, the one who brought their musical visions to life with stunning visuals and concepts. She was known for her sharp wit and even sharper tongue, a trait that had earned her both admirers and adversaries in the industry. But today, she was all business, her focus entirely on the task at hand.

Seungmin leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He had heard about Y/N and her friends, the trio that had taken the music world by storm with their innovative productions. But seeing her in action was something else entirely. There was an intensity about her, a fierce dedication that was both intimidating and captivating.

He caught her eye as she glanced up from the soundboard, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, with a smirk that could only be described as wicked, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Enjoying the show?" she quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Seungmin chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking over to her. "Just admiring the view," he shot back, his tone equally ironic.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Cute. But flattery won't get you anywhere with me."

"Noted," Seungmin replied, his grin widening. "But just so you know, I'm not easily intimidated."

"Good," Y/N said, turning back to the soundboard. "Because neither am I."

And just like that, a spark was lit. Two sarcastic, sharp-witted individuals, each recognizing a kindred spirit in the other. It was the beginning of a friendship that would soon blossom into something much deeper.

The days turned into weeks, and the collaboration between Stray Kids and Y/N's trio was in full swing. The studio became their second home, a place where creativity flowed freely and ideas were born and refined. Y/N and Seungmin found themselves working closely together, their banter becoming a staple of the studio atmosphere.

One afternoon, as they were reviewing the latest edits for the music video, Seungmin leaned back in his chair and glanced at Y/N. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be the visual director, you spend an awful lot of time in the sound booth."

Y/N didn't look up from her laptop. "And for someone who's supposed to be a singer, you spend an awful lot of time critiquing my work."

"Touché," Seungmin said with a laugh. "But seriously, you're good at this. Like, really good."

Y/N finally looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Thanks. Coming from you, that actually means something."

Seungmin shrugged. "Just calling it like I see it. You've got a knack for bringing out the best in people."

Y/N studied him for a moment, then smiled. "You're not so bad yourself, Seungmin."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch. That one hurt."

"Good," Y/N said, her smile turning into a grin. "You needed to be taken down a peg or two."

The collaboration was a whirlwind of creativity and energy. Mia, the choreographer director, was a force to be reckoned with. Her sharp eye for detail and relentless drive for perfection had the dance line of Stray Kids—Hyunjin, Lee Know, and Felix—completely floored. They spent hours in the dance studio, pushing their limits and learning new routines that Mia choreographed with precision and flair.

"Again," Mia commanded, her voice firm but encouraging. "You need to hit that move with more power, Hyunjin. Imagine you're breaking through a wall."

Hyunjin nodded, sweat dripping from his brow as he repeated the move. Lee Know and Felix followed suit, their movements synchronized and sharp. Mia watched them with a critical eye, nodding in approval as they nailed the routine.

"You're getting there," she said with a small smile. "But don't get complacent. We have a lot more to cover."

Meanwhile, Jisoo, the musical producer, was in her element with 3Racha—Bang Chan, Changbin, and Han—and the vocal line—Seungmin and I.N. They were in the sound booth, fine-tuning the tracks for the new album. Jisoo's expertise and innovative approach to music production had the boys in awe.

"Let's try that bridge again," Jisoo suggested, her fingers flying over the soundboard. "I want to add a layer of harmonies here to give it more depth."

Bang Chan nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "That sounds amazing. Let's do it."

Changbin and Han exchanged glances, their respect for Jisoo evident. "She's a genius," Changbin whispered to Han, who nodded in agreement.

I.N, ever the eager learner, was soaking up every bit of knowledge he could from Jisoo. "Can you show me how you did that effect on the vocals?" he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Jisoo smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "Of course, I.N. Let's break it down."

While the rest of the group was immersed in their respective tasks, Seungmin found his attention constantly drifting to Y/N. She was in her element, moving between the sound booth and the editing suite with ease. Her sharp wit and quick comebacks kept everyone on their toes, but there was a softness to her that Seungmin couldn't ignore.

One evening, as they were wrapping up for the day, Seungmin found himself alone with Y/N in the editing suite. She was reviewing the latest cuts for the music video, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Need any help?" Seungmin asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Y/N glanced up, a small smile playing on her lips. "Depends. Are you any good at editing?"

Seungmin chuckled. "Not really. But I'm great at moral support."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to his ears. "Well, I could use some of that. This scene is giving me a headache."

Seungmin walked over, standing behind her chair as he looked at the screen. "What's the issue?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The transitions are off. It's not flowing the way I want it to."

Seungmin studied the screen, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "What if you tried cutting it here?" he suggested, pointing to a specific frame. "It might create a smoother transition."

Y/N considered his suggestion, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she made the adjustment. She played the sequence again, and this time, the transition was seamless.

"Wow," Y/N said, turning to look at him with a surprised smile. "That actually worked. Thanks, Seungmin."

Seungmin grinned, his heart swelling with pride. "Anytime. I told you I'm good at moral support."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Don't let it go to your head."

Their laughter filled the room, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. But then reality came crashing back as Mia called out from the hallway, "Y/N, we need you in the dance studio!"

Y/N sighed, closing her laptop. "Duty calls."

The week was winding down, and late Friday evening, the usual hustle and bustle of the studio had quieted. Most of the team had dispersed, either heading home or grabbing a late dinner. Seungmin, however, found himself lingering. Something felt off. Y/N, who was usually in the thick of things, was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t spotted her in the music studio, the dance studio, or even the editing suite. It was unusual, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He found Jisoo in the sound booth, tweaking the final mix of a track. “Hey,” Seungmin said, leaning against the doorframe. “Have you seen Y/N? She’s not in her usual spots.”

Jisoo glanced up, her expression a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Oh, she’s in her art studio. Has been since she got here. She’s probably deep in her creative zone. Trust me, it’s best not to disturb her when she’s like this.”

Seungmin frowned. “But it’s been hours. Shouldn’t someone check on her?”

Jisoo smirked, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through him. “Why? Worried about her, Seungmin?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just… curious. She’s usually around, that’s all.”

Jisoo chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, if you’re that curious, go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Y/N can be… intense when she’s working.”

Seungmin nodded, already turning to leave. “Thanks, Jisoo.”

As he made his way down the hallway toward Y/N’s art studio, he could hear faint music drifting through the door. It wasn’t the usual track they’d been working on—it was something softer, more melodic. He paused outside the door, his hand hovering over the knob. The music grew louder, and then he heard it—Y/N’s voice.

She was singing.

Seungmin froze, his breath catching in his throat. Her voice was rich and soulful, filled with emotion he hadn’t expected. She wasn’t just singing; she was pouring her heart out, her voice rising and falling with the melody. It was raw, beautiful, and completely captivating.

He stood there, transfixed, as she sang the final notes, her voice fading into silence. For a moment, he couldn’t move. He had no idea she could sing like that. Why had she never mentioned it? Why had she hidden this part of herself?

Before he could overthink it, he knocked on the door.

“Jisoo, Mia, unless the building is on fire, leave me alone,” Y/N called out, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Seungmin hesitated, then cleared his throat. “It’s me… Seungmin.”

There was a long pause, and then the sound of footsteps approaching the door. It opened slowly, revealing Y/N with a slightly embarrassed smile. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and there were smudges of paint on her hands and cheeks. She looked… stunning.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer now. “What are you doing here?”

Seungmin scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. “I, uh, was looking for you. Jisoo said you were here, and I just… wanted to check on you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a small smirk. “Check on me? That’s sweet. But I’m fine, really. Just working on some stuff.”

Seungmin glanced past her into the studio. The room was a chaotic blend of canvases, sketches, and half-finished projects. There was a record player in the corner, the source of the music he’d heard earlier. “You’ve been in here all day?”

Y/N shrugged. “Time flies when you’re in the zone. What about you? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

“I was,” Seungmin said, his eyes locking onto hers. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about where you were.”

Y/N’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer. “Well, now you know. I’m here, painting, listening to music, and… singing, apparently.”

Seungmin’s face lit up. “Yeah, about that. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that? You’re amazing.”

Y/N looked away, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not a big deal. I just… sing for myself. It helps me think.”

“Not a big deal?” Seungmin repeated, stepping closer. “Y/N, you have an incredible voice. You should be sharing it with the world.”

She shook her head, her expression turning serious. “It’s not that simple. Singing is… personal for me. It’s not something I do for other people.”

Seungmin studied her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her eyes. “I get that. But just so you know, I’m really glad I got to hear it. Even if it was by accident.”

Y/N looked back at him, her smile returning. “Thanks, Seungmin. That means a lot.”

They stood there for a moment, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Then Y/N stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. “Since you’re here, want to see what I’ve been working on?”

Seungmin grinned, following her into the studio. “I’d love to.”

As the weeks went by, Seungmin and Y/N’s bond deepened in ways neither of them could have anticipated. Seungmin, ever the diligent member of Stray Kids, would fulfill his responsibilities with the group—recording vocals, practicing choreography, and participating in meetings—but his mind often wandered to Y/N. The moment his duties were done, he’d slip away, making his way to her art studio like it was his second home.

Y/N’s studio had become their sanctuary. The walls were adorned with sketches, mood boards, and half-finished concepts for Stray Kids’ upcoming album. The air was always filled with the soft music a mix of nostalgic classics and modern indie tracks. Seungmin would sit quietly in the corner, sometimes journaling, sometimes just watching her work. He loved the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way she bit her lip when she was deep in thought, and the way her eyes lit up when a concept finally came together.

“You’re staring again,” Y/N said one evening, not looking up from her sketchpad. Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth to it that made Seungmin’s heart skip a beat.

“Am I?” he replied, feigning innocence. “Maybe I’m just admiring your artistic process.”

Y/N smirked, finally glancing up at him. “Admiring, huh? You sure you’re not just avoiding practice?”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, if I wanted to avoid practice, I’d find a better excuse than watching you draw.”

“Good to know,” Y/N said, her tone playful. “But seriously, don’t you have better things to do than hang out in my studio all day?”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Nope. This is exactly where I want to be.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked back down at her sketchpad, pretending to focus on her work. But Seungmin didn’t miss the way her hands trembled slightly, or the way her breath hitched for just a moment. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he let the comfortable silence settle between them, the music filling the space as they worked side by side.

Outside the studio, the rest of the group had started to notice the growing connection between the two. Mia and Jisoo exchanged knowing glances whenever Seungmin disappeared after practice, and the Stray Kids members weren’t much better.

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin asked one afternoon, glancing around the dance studio. “He said he’d help me with this part of the choreography.”

Mia smirked, not looking up from her notes. “Where do you think? He’s probably in Y/N’s studio, ‘admiring her artistic process.’”

The group erupted into laughter, and even Bang Chan couldn’t hide his grin. “Leave him alone,” he said, though his tone was light. “If he’s happy, let him be.”

The studio was alive with its usual energy, but there was an undercurrent of amusement that day. Everyone had noticed the growing connection between Y/N and Seungmin—everyone except the two of them. Mia and Jisoo, in particular, had taken to exchanging knowing glances whenever the pair was in the same room. Even the Stray Kids members, who were usually too wrapped up in their own chaos to pay attention, had started placing bets on how long it would take for the two to figure things out.

One afternoon, during a rare break, Mia leaned over to Jisoo, her voice low. "Do you think they'll ever figure it out?"

Jisoo smirked, her eyes flickering toward Y/N and Seungmin, who were sitting side by side on the couch, reviewing the latest edits for the music video. "Not if we don't give them a little push."

Mia raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "What did you have in mind?"

Jisoo shrugged, her smile widening. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a little nudge here and there. They’re both too stubborn to make the first move."

Mia chuckled, shaking her head. "They’re hopeless. But you’re right. Someone’s gotta do something before they drive the rest of us crazy."

Meanwhile, Seungmin was doing his best to focus on the edits, but it was nearly impossible with Y/N sitting so close to him. Their shoulders brushed every time one of them moved, and the warmth of her body next to his was driving him crazy. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume—something floral and sweet—and it was distracting in the best way.

"You know," he said, trying to sound casual, "we make a pretty good team."

Y/N glanced at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "We do, don’t we?"

Seungmin’s heart raced, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Yeah. I mean, we balance each other out. You’re all sharp edges, and I’m... well, I’m the charming one."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to his ears. "Keep telling yourself that."

Seungmin grinned, but inside, he was a mess. He wanted to tell her how he felt, to confess that he’d been falling for her for weeks now. But he was terrified of ruining what they had. And from the way Y/N was acting—her teasing smiles, the way her eyes lingered on him just a little too long—it seemed like she might feel the same way. But he couldn’t be sure.

Across the room, the rest of the team was watching them with amused expressions. Hyunjin elbowed Felix, nodding toward the oblivious pair. "How long do you think it’ll take them to figure it out?"

Felix shrugged, grinning. "At this rate? Forever. They’re both too stubborn."

Bang Chan, who had been quietly observing the scene, chimed in. "Maybe they just need a little push. You know, like in those dramas where the friends set them up on a fake date or something."

Jisoo, who had overheard, smirked. "Oh, trust me, we’re already on it."

Later that evening, as the group was packing up to leave, Mia and Jisoo cornered Y/N in the hallway. "Hey," Mia said, her tone casual but her eyes gleaming with mischief. "We’re all going out for dinner tonight. You should come."

Y/N hesitated, glancing back toward the studio where Seungmin was still packing up his things. "I don’t know... I was planning to finish up some work—"

"Nope," Jisoo interrupted, linking her arm through Y/N’s. "You’ve been working too hard. You need a break. And besides, Seungmin’s coming too."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, and she quickly looked away, hoping they didn’t notice the way her cheeks flushed. "Oh. Well, I guess I could come for a little while."

Mia and Jisoo exchanged a triumphant look. "Great," Mia said, her smile widening. "We’ll see you there."

As the group gathered at the restaurant, Seungmin found himself seated next to Y/N, their knees brushing under the table. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and teasing, but Seungmin couldn’t help but notice the way Y/N’s eyes sparkled when she laughed, or the way her hand occasionally brushed against his when she reached for her drink.

At one point, Y/N leaned over to him, her voice low. "Thanks for coming tonight. I know you’re not big on group outings."

Seungmin smiled, his heart skipping a beat at the way she was looking at him. "I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, it’s nice to see you outside the studio for once."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away. "Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I’m still a workaholic at heart."

Seungmin chuckled, his gaze softening. "I know. But even workaholics need a break sometimes."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. The noise of the restaurant, the laughter of their friends—it all disappeared, leaving just the two of them. Seungmin’s heart was pounding, and he could see the same uncertainty in Y/N’s eyes. He wanted to say something, to tell her how he felt, but before he could, the moment was broken by Mia��s voice.

"Alright, everyone! Group photo time!"

The night had been full of laughter and camaraderie, but as the evening wound down, the group’s plan was set into motion. Mia and Jisoo, along with the rest of the Stray Kids members, had conspired to make sure Seungmin was the one to walk Y/N home. They all knew it was only a matter of time before the two of them figured out what everyone else already saw—that they were perfect for each other.

As Seungmin and Y/N walked through the quiet streets, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They talked about everything and nothing—music, their favorite movies, the chaos of the studio, and even their childhood dreams. Y/N, who was usually guarded, found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t expected.

"You know," she said, her voice light but tinged with vulnerability, "I have this weird hobby. I collect vinyl records. It’s kind of a passion of mine."

Seungmin’s eyes lit up with interest. "Really? That’s so cool. I’ve always loved the sound of vinyl. There’s something so... authentic about it."

Y/N smiled, a hint of pride in her expression. "Exactly. It’s like you can feel the music, you know? It’s not just something you listen to—it’s something you experience."

Seungmin nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Can I see your collection sometime?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not? You’re already walking me home. Might as well come in."

When they arrived at her apartment, Y/N led Seungmin inside, her heart racing slightly. She wasn’t used to having people in her space, especially not someone like Seungmin. But as she showed him her collection of vinyl records, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. The records were neatly organized on shelves, their covers a mix of classic albums and obscure finds.

Seungmin picked up one of the records, his fingers gently tracing the cover. "This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I didn’t know you were into this kind of music."

Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me."

Seungmin looked at her, his expression serious. "I’d like to."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. There was something in his eyes, something that made her heart race. She wanted to tell him everything, to let him in. But she was scared. Scared of being vulnerable, scared of getting hurt.

Seungmin seemed to sense her hesitation. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "You don’t have to be afraid, Y/N. Not with me."

Y/N looked down at their joined hands, her mind racing. She wanted to believe him, to trust him. But it was so hard. "Seungmin, I..."

He waited, giving her the space to find the words. And finally, she took a deep breath and said, "I’m not easy."

Seungmin’s heart stopped for a moment, but he kept his expression calm. "I don’t care."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. "You don’t understand. I’m... complicated. I push people away. I don’t let anyone in. And I don’t want to hurt you."

Seungmin took a step closer, his voice soft but firm. "Y/N, I know you’re used to keeping people at arm’s length. But you don’t have to do that with me. I care about you. More than you know."

Y/N’s heart was pounding, and she could feel the walls she had built around herself starting to crumble. "Seungmin, I... I care about you too. But I’m scared. Scared of messing this up, scared of losing you."

Seungmin smiled, his thumb gently brushing over her hand. "You’re not going to lose me. Not unless you want to."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his. And in that moment, she knew. She knew that he meant every word, that he wasn’t going anywhere. And for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she could let someone in.

"Seungmin," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I... I think I’m falling for you."

Seungmin’s heart soared, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. "Y/N, I’ve been falling for you since the moment I met you."

And then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of a touch, as if he was giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But Y/N didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the music that played softly in the background. Seungmin’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss became more passionate, more urgent. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, her heart racing as she lost herself in the moment.

The air in Y/N’s apartment was thick with emotion, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every touch more electric. Their kiss had started softly, a tentative exploration of feelings they had both been holding back for so long. But as the seconds turned into minutes, the intensity grew, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt both natural and exhilarating.

Seungmin’s hands trembled slightly as they rested on Y/N’s waist, his touch gentle but firm, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he held on too tightly. Y/N, on the other hand, clung to him, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as if she could erase the space between them entirely.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts. Seungmin’s eyes searched hers, his voice soft but filled with concern. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

Y/N smiled, her hands moving to cup his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “This… you… it feels right.”

Seungmin’s breath hitched at her words, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and affection. Then, slowly, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more deliberate. It was as if her reassurance had unlocked something in him, a floodgate of emotions he had been holding back for far too long.

Their movements became more urgent, their hands exploring each other with a newfound sense of freedom. Y/N’s fingers found the hem of Seungmin’s shirt, tugging it upward until he pulled away just long enough to discard it. His hands followed suit, gently removing her sweater and letting it fall to the floor. The cool air of the room brushed against their skin, but neither of them noticed—they were too consumed by the heat of the moment.

Seungmin’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made Y/N shiver. She tilted her head back, her hands gripping his shoulders as she whispered his name, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through him. He paused, looking up at her with a mixture of desire and reverence. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him back into a kiss that was filled with all the words they hadn’t said yet. It was a kiss that spoke of trust, of vulnerability, of a connection that went beyond the physical.

As they moved toward the bed, their movements were slow and deliberate, each touch filled with intention. Seungmin’s hands roamed over her skin, mapping every curve as if he was committing her to memory. Y/N’s breath hitched as his fingers traced the line of her spine, her own hands exploring the planes of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

When they finally lay down together, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, their bodies pressed close, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in each other. Seungmin’s lips found hers again, his kiss tender but insistent, as if he was trying to convey everything he felt but couldn’t put into words.

Y/N’s hands moved to the waistband of his pants, her fingers trembling slightly as she hesitated. Seungmin noticed and pulled back, his eyes searching hers. “We can stop,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “Whenever you want, we can stop.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “I don’t want to stop,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I want this. I want you.”

Seungmin’s breath caught at her words, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his heart swelling with affection. Then, slowly, he nodded, his hands moving to help her as they shed the last barriers between them.

As the night wore on, their passion ebbed and flowed, each moment filled with a sense of discovery. Seungmin’s hands were gentle but firm, his touch sending shivers down Y/N’s spine as he explored every inch of her. Y/N, in turn, clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she whispered his name, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through him.

When they finally reached their peak, it was with a sense of completeness, as if they had finally found the missing piece of themselves in each other. They lay together afterward, their bodies tangled, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Seungmin’s arms were wrapped around her, his chin resting on top of her head as he pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Y/N stirred awake, her body still humming with the lingering sensations of the night before. For a moment, she lay still, her mind replaying the memories of their intimate connection, the way Seungmin had held her, touched her, whispered her name like it was the most precious sound in the world.

She turned her head slightly, her breath catching as she saw him lying beside her. Seungmin was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, one arm draped loosely over her waist. His face was relaxed, the usual sharp edges of his features softened in sleep. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Careful not to wake him, she shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to get a better look at him. Her fingers hovered over his face, tracing the lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips without actually touching him. She marveled at how peaceful he looked, how vulnerable. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, and it made her fall for him even more.

As if sensing her gaze, Seungmin’s eyes fluttered open, his sleepy gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he just stared at her, his expression soft and unguarded. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks as the memories of the previous night came flooding back. “Did you sleep okay?”

Seungmin chuckled, his hand moving to rest on her hip. “Better than okay,” he said, his tone teasing. “Though I think you might’ve had something to do with that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” Seungmin said, his grin widening. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead in a soft kiss. “But seriously, are you okay? Last night was… a lot.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “I’m more than okay,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “It was perfect, Seungmin. You were perfect.”

They lay there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside their little bubble feeling distant and unimportant. But eventually, the reality of the day began to creep in, and Y/N sighed, reluctantly pulling away.

“We should probably get up,” she said, though she made no move to actually leave the bed. “The others are going to wonder where we are.”

Seungmin groaned, pulling her back into his arms. “Let them wonder,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair. “I’m not ready to share you yet.”

Y/N laughed, the sound warm and melodic. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you,” Seungmin replied, his tone light but his words filled with meaning. He finally let her go, sitting up and stretching as he glanced around the room. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Y/N shrugged, sitting up as well and pulling the blanket around her shoulders. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could grab breakfast and then head to the studio. We still have a lot of work to do on the album.”

Seungmin nodded, though his expression turned thoughtful. “About that… do you think we should tell the others? About us, I mean.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twisting the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve been subtle. They’ve probably already figured it out.”

Seungmin chuckled, reaching over to take her hand. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But still, it feels like something we should do. You know, make it official.”

Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. “Okay,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s tell them. But maybe after breakfast. I’m starving.”

Seungmin laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Deal. But first, shower. You’re not going anywhere smelling like that.”

Y/N gasped, playfully swatting his arm. “Excuse me? You’re one to talk!”

Seungmin grinned, dodging her next swipe as he climbed out of bed. “Come on, I’ll race you to the bathroom.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she watched him go. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this light, this happy.

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Y/N’s apartment, casting a warm glow over the room. Seungmin and Y/N were in the middle of getting ready for the day, the easy rhythm of their movements a testament to the newfound comfort they had found in each other. Seungmin stood behind Y/N, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned slightly forward, tying her hair into a messy bun. His chin rested on her shoulder, his lips occasionally brushing against her neck in a way that made her shiver.

“Minnie,” Y/N said softly, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You’re going to make me mess up my hair.”

Seungmin chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, his voice low and warm against her ear.

Before Y/N could retort, the sound of Seungmin’s phone ringing cut through the quiet morning. He groaned, reluctantly letting go of her to fish his phone out of his pocket. When he saw Bang Chan’s name on the screen, he sighed and answered, putting it on speaker without thinking.

“Seungmin, where are you?” Bang Chan’s voice boomed through the phone, loud enough that Y/N could hear it clearly. “We’ve been waiting for you at the studio for over an hour. Are you still asleep?”

Seungmin winced, glancing at Y/N, who was trying—and failing—to stifle her laughter. “Uh, no, I’m not asleep,” he said, his voice slightly sheepish. “I’m just… running a little late.”

“A little late?” Bang Chan’s tone was incredulous, and in the background, the sound of the other Stray Kids members chiming in could be heard. “Seungmin, we have a schedule. You can’t just—”

Before Bang Chan could finish, Mia’s voice cut through the chaos. “Wait, is Y/N there too? Seungmin, are you with Y/N?”

Seungmin froze, his eyes widening as he realized the call was on speaker and everyone in the studio could hear. Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly turned to him, mouthing, *“Hang up!”*

But it was too late. The boys erupted into a chorus of teasing, their voices overlapping as they tried to get more information.

“Seungmin and Y/N? Together? Since when?” Felix’s voice was filled with excitement.

“Oh, I *knew* it!” Hyunjin exclaimed, his tone triumphant. “I called it weeks ago!”

“Seungmin, you dog!” Changbin added, his laughter echoing through the phone.

Bang Chan, ever the leader, tried to regain control of the conversation. “Alright, alright, calm down. Seungmin, are you seriously late because you’re with Y/N? Do you know how unprofessional—”

Y/N had heard enough. She reached over and snatched the phone from Seungmin’s hand, her voice calm but firm as she interrupted Bang Chan. “Chan, we’ll be there in 40 minutes. Stop yelling at him. And tell the others to mind their own business.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by a burst of laughter from the group. “Y/N, is that you?” Jisoo’s voice came through, tinged with amusement. “Wow, you’re already defending him. Cute.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her cheeks burning. “We’ll see you soon,” she said, ignoring Jisoo’s comment. “Bye.”

She ended the call before anyone else could say anything, tossing the phone back to Seungmin, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Bossy,” he said, his tone teasing as he stepped closer to her. “I like it.”

Y/N shot him a look, though there was no real heat behind it. “You’re lucky I ended that call. They were about to roast you alive.”

Seungmin shrugged, his arms sliding around her waist again. “Let them. I don’t care what they say. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she reached up to gently cup his face. “You’re such a sap,” she said, her voice filled with affection.

Seungmin leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss. “Only for you,” he murmured.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of Y/N’s phone buzzing. She sighed, pulling away to check the message. “Mia says if we’re not at the studio in 15 minutes, she’s sending a search party.”

Seungmin groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “Do we *have* to go?”

Y/N laughed, giving him a gentle push. “Yes, we have to go. Come on, Minnie. Let’s get this over with.”

As they finished getting ready and headed out the door, Seungmin couldn’t help but smile. Despite the teasing they were bound to face, he felt a sense of contentment he hadn’t known before. With Y/N by his side, he felt like he could handle anything—even the chaos of their friends.

The studio was unusually quiet when Seungmin and Y/N walked in, each holding a coffee in hand. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, all eyes turned in their direction. The silence was deafening, the kind of quiet that made it clear everyone had been waiting for this moment.

Y/N, ever the picture of calm confidence, didn’t miss a beat. She turned to Seungmin, her lips curving into a soft smile, and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth. “See you later, Minnie,” she said, her voice light and casual, as if she hadn’t just sent the entire room into shock.

Seungmin, for his part, stood frozen for a moment, his cheeks tinged with pink as he watched her walk away toward her art studio. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, even as he felt the weight of everyone’s stares.

The silence lasted all of three seconds before the room erupted.

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” Hyunjin shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

“Did she just—? Did he just—? WHAT?!” Felix stammered, his eyes wide as saucers.

Bang Chan, ever the leader, was the first to recover. He crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Seungmin. “So. You two, huh?”

Seungmin shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the grin on his face gave him away. “Yeah. We’re… together. Officially.”

The room exploded into cheers and laughter, the boys clapping Seungmin on the back and teasing him mercilessly. Meanwhile, Mia and Jisoo exchanged a triumphant look before bolting out of the room, their footsteps echoing as they chased after Y/N.

In the art studio, Y/N was already seated at her desk, her sketchpad open and her coffee steaming beside her. She looked up as the door flew open, revealing Mia and Jisoo, both out of breath but grinning from ear to ear.

“You did it!” Mia exclaimed, slamming the door shut behind her. “You finally made it official!”

Jisoo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “This is amazing! Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this? We had a whole *plan* to get you two together!”

Y/N blinked, her pen pausing mid-sketch. “A plan? What are you talking about?”

Mia plopped down on the couch, her grin widening. “Oh, you know. The late-night studio sessions. The ‘accidental’ alone time. The walking-home-together thing. All of it. We’ve been scheming for weeks.”

Y/N stared at them, her mouth opening and closing as she processed this information. “You… you *planned* this?”

Jisoo nodded, looking far too proud of herself. “Every single detail. And it worked, didn’t it?”

Y/N shook her head, a laugh bubbling up in her chest. “You two are unbelievable.”

Back in the main studio, Seungmin was still being bombarded with questions and teasing from the boys.

“So, how long has this been going on?” Changbin asked, his tone full of mischief.

Just then, Mia and Jisoo burst back into the room, their faces glowing with excitement. “Guess what?” Mia announced, her voice carrying over the noise. “Y/N just found out about our plan!”

Seungmin’s eyes widened. “Wait, what plan?”

Jisoo grinned, crossing her arms. “The plan to get you two together. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Seungmin stared at them, his mouth hanging open. “You… you *planned* this?”

Mia nodded, looking far too pleased with herself. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Seungmin groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I knew we could’ve stayed in bed.”

The room erupted into laughter, the boys doubling over as Seungmin buried his face in his hands.

“Seungmin!” Felix gasped between laughs. “You’re killing me!”

“Stay in bed?!” Hyunjin repeated, clutching his stomach. “Oh, this is too good.”

Epilogue

The studio was alive with its usual energy, the hum of creativity filling the air as the group worked on finalizing the album. Seungmin, however, found his attention drifting. His eyes kept wandering toward the door of Y/N’s art studio, his mind replaying the events of the morning. The way she’d kissed him in front of everyone, the way she’d confidently walked away, leaving him to deal with the chaos—it all made his heart race in the best way.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He excused himself from the vocal booth, ignoring the knowing smirks from the other members, and made his way to her studio. When he reached the door, he leaned casually against the frame, his arms crossed as he watched her work.

Y/N was seated at her desk, her sketchpad open and her headphones on. She was completely absorbed in her work, her brow furrowed in concentration as she added intricate details to the album cover design. Seungmin couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was so focused, so passionate, and it was one of the many things he loved about her.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, catching her attention. Y/N looked up, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before a soft smile spread across her face. She pulled off her headphones and set them aside. “Hey,” she said, her voice warm. “What’s up?”

Seungmin pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Just wanted to check on you,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes filled with affection. “You’ve been in here all day.”

Y/N shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Just trying to get this design finished. You know how it is.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence as Seungmin stepped closer, his hands resting on the back of her chair. “So,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone, “I was thinking… tonight. Mine or yours?”

Y/N looked up at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

Seungmin smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know. Where are we sleeping tonight? Mine or yours?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh. “Seungmin!” she exclaimed, swatting his arm. “You can’t just say things like that!”

Seungmin chuckled, leaning down so his face was level with hers. “Why not? It’s a valid question.”

Y/N shook her head, though she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

His grin widening. “But seriously, what do you think? Your place is closer, but mine has better snacks.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing as she looked up at him. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

Seungmin shook his head, his expression softening. “Nope. Not until you give me an answer.”

Y/N sighed, though there was no real annoyance in it. “Fine,” she said, her voice teasing. “Yours. But only because I’m curious about these so-called ‘better snacks.’”

Seungmin’s face lit up, and he straightened, looking far too pleased with himself. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m not sharing the good stuff.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “You’re such a dork.”

Seungmin leaned down again, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss. “Your dork,” he murmured.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she reached up to gently cup his face. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Mine.”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly outside the door. They pulled apart just as the door swung open, revealing Mia and Jisoo, both wearing identical smirks.

“Are you two done being adorable yet?” Mia asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve got work to do, you know.”

Jisoo nodded, crossing her arms. “Yeah, save the lovey-dovey stuff for after hours.”

Seungmin groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You two are the worst.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she stood up.

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hannahssimblr · 4 months ago

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Beginning // Prev // Next

Hi Evie!

God, I’m so sorry it’s been so long. Life is chaotic. I’m doing stuff all the time and I really haven’t had a minute.

College is great. It’s intense. It’s so different to what I expected, although now that I’m saying it, I’m not sure what I expected at all. I’m not sure that I really thought about what it was going to be like.

There’s art, obviously, a lot of it, and all of the time. We have drawing classes and painting classes, classes about composition, sculpture, art history and theory, and other stuff too that I can’t even recall off the top of my head. We were on a trip last week, out across the city drawing buildings and things like that, and it’s given me this new appreciation for how interesting Berlin really is. I’m learning about all of this history, and then recording it on the page by drawing it. I can’t really overstate how amazing it is to be surrounded by so many people who love art the same way that I do, and I’m thinking about you when I’m living my life like this, about how much you’re going to love it when you’re finally free from Tullamore, and you can go to art college. You’re going to have the best years of your life, so don’t worry about all that’s going on at school right now, and with Kelly and whatever. Things are going to get so much better.

I go out a lot these days. Drinking, yes, but it’s not really like the way that we used to party and drink in Dublin at all. It’s so much more vibrant and fun, and there are all of these amazing bars and clubs with different themes. I got out with my friends like, three or four times a week, and sometimes I don’t even drink, I just dance, and that’s enough. I meet plenty of interesting people when I’m out, too. There’s always someone new to get to know.

We did go to this club last week, though, it’s famous. Berghain. Jonas and some of the others like techno, which I’m not sure about yet, and sometimes they go there to dance. It’s open a few days a week, and you can go literally any time of the day, which is crazy. I mean, you can go in at seven in the morning if you want to, and you can get lost in there for three days. Jonas told me all these stories about the kinds of things you can do and… I don’t know if I want to repeat it. I honestly feel like you wouldn’t want to know.

I mentioned we went, but really, they went. As in, some of our friends. Not me. Apparently, the bouncers are really strict about who goes inside. Jonas explained something about needing to have the right “vibe”, which sounds insane, but anyway. I have the wrong “vibe”, because the bouncers saw me and my friend Elias in the queue and they yelled “No!” at us from, like, a twenty metre distance, haha. It’s fine. We went to another club instead, and we had fun and met some more cool people, so I can’t complain.

I also can’t say I’m not curious about what it’s like to get into Berghain… Maybe one day. If I do, you’ll be the first to know, and I’ll share all the crazy details when I’ve experienced it. I think the day I get in is the day I can say I’m a real Berliner.

It’s Halloween soon, and I’ve recently learned that they don’t celebrate it here. Can you believe it? I hope you’ll be doing something fun, at least, to make up for my loss. Send me a picture of your costume if you are! I have a feeling you’ll come up with something dead creative, because you’re good with your hands. I think I remember seeing a picture of you dressed as a bee on your Facebook? Am I mixing you up with someone else? I don’t think so. It was so cool.

Shane is coming to visit next weekend. Did he tell you that? It’s half term, or reading week, or whatever they call it now. I would have mentioned it to you before, but he’s coming with some college friends on a boys trip. I didn’t think you’d be up for coming. I think they’ve booked this dingy hostel somewhere, and I just can’t imagine it being your thing. Especially with you still being seventeen and all of that, it’s like, you wouldn’t be allowed in to any of the clubs and bars. You should come in the spring, though! That’d be fun. Maybe if you wanted to plan a trip for your 18th?

I feel like I just spewed a load of information on you there, sorry. I should have emailed you earlier, but I’ve had this project due, and when I’m not socialising I’m working on it.

Hope you’re taking care of yourself!

Jude x

#lucky boy 2011 #much to unpack i guess #and yes i know he's nasty for doing this on a shared couch in a common area #but unfortunately this is on brand #sex tw #nudity tw

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lillyspeakz · 20 days ago

Text

crawling back to you.

a/n: so it’s been a hot minute so this might be rough! But if people like this, I will do a part 2 !! So enjoy! This takes place during the sorry boys video with sorry burger and all of that!! Bonus points if you know the movie reference at the end-

warnings: Wilbur and reader yearning, awkward Wil, female reader with they/them pronouns, lowkey just fun!

wc: 2k

“Get out of my sight. Go find us some customers!” Wilbur yelled at the two men dressed as hot dogs, turning towards the camera behind him to give a motivation speech once more while he ate his… 3rd hotdog? He lost track.

“Cmon Charlie! Let’s go find some hot women!” Tommy exclaimed as he ran towards the park, Charlie laughing behind him as he followed.

As Tom and Charlie ventured further into the park, going away from the truck as they searched and offered flyers, Tom stopped in his tracks as Charlie ran into him.

“Dude wh-“

“Shh! Look over there- they might want one.” Tom pointed over towards you, sitting on one of the benches that surrounded a garden with a small tree in the middle. You had broken converse on, rips and color faded all around as the ties wore thin. Blue jeans fit around your legs as your shirt labeled ‘The Smith’s’ underneath the trench coat wrapped around your body. You had headphones around your ears, one left off just in case with a book in your hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Tom they look busy- Tom? Tommy-“ Charlie shouted quietly as the blonde took big strides towards you, a smile bearing his face as he did.

As you heard leaves crunch and grass shuffle with the sound of feet, you hesitantly looked up, eyes not wanting to look away from the intense plot change that just occurred. You were met with a younger man with bright blonde hair and a teal sweater on, with a.. hotdog suit on? The man behind him had the same costume on….

“Hello?” You asked, taking your headphones off fully and placing them around your neck as you placed your bookmark back in your book.

“Hi! Um- I’m Tom and this is Charlie. Would you want a free burger?” The guy, Tom, asks as he handed you a flyer.

As you took the flyer, looking at the small advertisement that held a dog in a hotdog bun, you laughed at the concept. ‘Smart’ you thought as you looked back up at the men who were whispering to each other.

“Are you sure they aren’t hotdogs?” You asked, a confused smile on your face as to why he said burgers as well as the flyer.

Tom laughed a little as he shook his head, Charlie not containing his own laughter as he turned away. “No no! They are 100% burgers.” The blonde said as he gave you an over exaggerated wink making you laugh at his antics, shaking your head while grabbing your bag.

“Ok! So where is this burger place?” You asked, shoving your book in your bag and getting up to follow the two men.

They both looked at you with surprise and excitement, Charlie telling you to follow him as Tom sparked conversation.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked as you looked at him with a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’m off the clock as of right now so- I’m Tommy and you are?” Tom joked but he seemed genuinely intrigued to get to know you.

“I’m y/n! Nice to meet you both!” You smiled at the pair as they reciprocated the feeling.

“So are you from America? You have the same accent as me so I presume-“ Charlie asked as you saw a food truck a couple yards away with a group of people crowding it.

“Yes I am! I just graduated college and decided to move here recently for a new beginning. I like it so far, definitely new but not anything too bad.” You shrugged as you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, hugging your coat around your body tighter as the wind blew.

“Really? What’d you major in?” Charlie asked once more, interest peaking as he moved to the other side of you, putting you in the middle of the two men.

“Creative Writing and minored in editing.” You smiled at the man who wasn’t much taller than you, making it easy to look at him.

“That’s sick! One of our mates Wil-“

“Tom! Charlie! Where have you been?” A tall man came over to us, a mask covering the bottom half of his face and his hair covering the rest.

‘Why are they so tall?!’ You silently thought as he ran over to the group you made, walking backwards as he did.

“We’ve been looking for customers! That’s our job, and look! We got one.” Tom said as he looked down at you, a proud smirk on his face as he did.

“Looks like you guys have been busy-“ Charlie pointed at the food truck that held a group of young adults waiting for food. You caught glimpse of another man inside the truck, he seemed to be your height with blonde hair, smiling down at the group as he handed out the hotdog.

Smiling to yourself, you shook your head at the situation you got yourself in, never imagining your afternoon for relaxation to turn into this.

“Oh yeah! Wilbur called a bunch of people over here randomly say and they were interested so!” The tall man said, finally making it to the food truck and waiting behind the group.

“There’s another one? How many of you are there?” You asked, eyes furrowed at the men in front of you.

“Oh yeah! We should probably explain… we’re content creators and we have an improve channel called ‘Sorry Boys’, as to why it’s called ‘Sorry Burger’.” Tom explained as he pointed at the logo on the flyers he held.

“And there’s 5 of us! Me, Tom, Ranboo, Phil and Wilbur. And this is also for a video so- You should check it out, it’s pretty fun.” Charlie explained the rest as you nodded along.

“So I’m going to be in this video?” You asked, a smile on your face as they all nodded. “Cool! I’m gonna be famous before I do anything!”

The boys all laughed at your comment, making jokes of how they’re your big break and how you should just join the group at that point.

As you waited, the boys talking your ear off as they asked numerous questions, a man running with bags and a chefs hat on caught your interest.

You continued to look at him with furrowed eyebrows, curious as to what he was doing. You soon saw the camera person running with him, laughing at what was being said.

As he stopped at the door, he turned to look at the group that had slowly spaced out over time, seeing the boys crowding around something…. Or someone. He couldn’t tell.

“Ranboo! Why are you out-“ the tall man stops abruptly as he sees you. His eyes rack over you slowly, examining you, all of you in the most gentle way a person can. His eyes soften as he makes eye contact with you, a small smile making its way on his face as you smile at him.

Your eyes got lost in his for a few moments, the chocolate brown hues grabbing you in their hold and drowning you in a sweet kiss. There was so many things you could say about him but not enough to describe him, and the presence he brought in that moment. He was interested. He cared. He wanted to know more and so did you.

“Earth to Wil! Mate what’s up?” Wilbur quickly blinked and turned towards Tommy as his hand was pulled away from his face.

“Shit- sorry! Ranboo we need you in here! Tom and Charlie just- keep being yourselves because if you could get them to come then, it’s working.” He gave you one last smile before stepping back into the truck, Ranboo following as he did.

“So that’s Wilbur?” You asked Charlie as he stood next to you, smiling at you as your interest grew in the tall man as he whispered something to Ranboo frantically.

“Yeah, he’s a lead singer in a band too! I don’t know if you’ve heard of them but it’s Lovejoy!” Charlie said as you quickly brought your phone out to investigate this new band.

Pulling up their discovery, you followed them and left the app open for later. “I think I just found my new favorite band.” You said to the man next to you as he chuckled at the comment, walking up with you to the front as Phil greeted you with a warm smile.

“Hi! Can I get you a burger?”

“Yes please!” You smiled back up at him, peaking behind him at the brunette who was talking with Tom now, the blonde smiling at you as he also whispered something into the man’s ear.

“Want any onion?” The blonde man asked you, breaking you out of your trance and over to where he stood.

“Oh- no thank you! But can I get ketchup and mustard? Please and thank you! How much is it?”

“It’s free, on us if you will.” Wilbur told you as you looked back over to see him leaning on the counter. You smiled at him once more, nodding as you continued to reach into your bag.

“Cool, um- wait Tom?! You were going to tell me something earlier and got cut off.” You asked the blonde boy as he smirked back at you.

“Oh yeah! I was just going to say how our buddy Wil over here graduated with an editing major!” He said as he grabbed the man by the shoulders and shook him, earning a groan from the brunette.

“Nice! I’m an editing minor. But i majored in creative writing. I also heard your in a band, yeah? Lead singer?” You asked the man who laughed at the question, nodding his head as he did.

“Yeah, Lovejoy’s the band. I also play rhythm guitar but that’s not important..” He trailed off at the end, putting his head down as he silently cursed himself for being awkward at the ripe age of 26.

“Gives me an idea on who to hear when I listen to you guys later, so yeah it is…” you reassured him as you smiled, grabbing a pen from your bag while taking a napkin that lied in front of you. “I sadly can’t stay, I’m meeting up with someone later tonight but… text me. I’m free anytime.” You clicked your pen shut as you slid the paper across the counter towards the man.

“There’s that for you!” Phil offered you your hotdog as you and Wil both looked away from each other, cheesy smiles on your faces as you did.

“Thank you! It was nice meeting you all!” You smiled at all of them, making eye contact with Wilbur one last time before turning away.

As you walked away, Wilbur looked at the napkin with a smile as all the boys cheered for him.

‘You intrigue me. Text me and we can figure out a time to maybe go on a little date…

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx’

He silently laughed at the message you left, grabbing his phone and adding the contact information.

“Hey Tom, what was their name?” Wil asked, typing in the girls contact name.

‘The Smith’s girl’

It seemed suiting to him in the moment, but knowing him he’ll change it 1,000 times until he liked it.

“Y/n was their name! They were really cool-“ Tom nodded his head as Charlie agreed with the blonde.

“Y/n… pretty name.” Wilbur whispered to himself as he started typing out his message.

‘Y/n right? You like the Smith’s?’

‘I love the Smith’s :)’

#lilly writez.#wilbur gold x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #sorry boys x reader #chef wilbur x reader #x reader #william gold x reader #yuh!!

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seramilla · 8 months ago

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Okay so I’m on a SeraMilla binge rn. And it is mixing with my hyper fixation of Vaggie. So I know you do a lot with them but could you imagine. Sera being sort of mother figure to Vaggie while in heaven. In a way that Sera is a mother figure to all of the exorcists being aside from Adam she is the only one who knows about them.

So Vaggie grows up with an absent mother in Heaven that checks in with her every few years. And then goes to hell to then forge a mother daughter bond with Carmilla. Though this is still in the beginning stages.

So one day Vaggie comes over with another training session and sees her absent mother and new mother being a little to friendly with each other and just has to sit there with this information.

Idk how the interaction would end so I’ll leave that to your creativity.

A Seramilla binge with a Vaggie binge is a combination of the best binges to be in, hehehehe. Let me see if I can help...

Growing up among the Exorcists had been a lonely existence for Vaggie. Even with all of her other "sisters" around her, and the forced sense of camaraderie Adam imposed upon them every day, Vaggie never really felt that she...fit in with the other soldiers. She was great at what she did; fantastic, even. She had some of the highest kill counts among anyone in her squad.

But everything about it was so cold. Unrelenting. Unfulfilling. It was seeing the same faces day in and day out, having her body pushed around and shoved face-first into the dirt during their training drills, and eating the same boring, unchanging meals on the same schedule every week. She hated Taco Tuesday. Before she even met Charlie, she almost wished she'd never have to see another fucking taco for the rest of her immortal life. That slop in the cafeteria could barely be called food, let alone meat!

The only respite Vaggie got from the monotony was when the Seraphim came to visit. Every year or so, High Seraphim Sera and her sister Emily would stop by to make sure the Exorcists were being cared for. Vaggie liked Emily. The other girl was easy to talk to, and Vaggie warmed up to her much quicker than her sisters ever did.

Emily's sister, Sera, while a little more aloof and standoffish than the younger Seraphim, was kind once she got to know her. None of the other Exorcists ever bothered to do so...so Sera would sit and talk with her, and ask her how she was feeling. Vaggie can't even remember if anyone had ever asked her that before. Certainly not Lute. Certainly not Adam.

Maybe it's because Vaggie has always been a little smaller than most Exorcists. Nothing can help that. It's how she was made. But when Sera showed an interest in her, and returned every year to catch up with her, gauge how the Exterminations were going, and ask if she was getting enough to eat, it was almost like a reunion with an absent parent. Just asking the barest of questions, but enough to make Vaggie feel that at least someone cared about her. Even if only marginally.

After Vaggie fell, Charlie had kind of taken up that roll in her life. Not to say that Charlie behaves like a mom; she is very maternal in the way she fusses over people, but she does that with everyone, not just Vaggie. It took Vaggie a while to get used to her girlfriend's...intense feelings for basically everyone she ever meets. But that's just Charlie. She cares so much. And that's what Vaggie loves most about her.

And then Vaggie had met Carmilla. Now that had been an interesting turn of events. Carmilla Carmine reminded her of a taller, older version of every other Exorcist she'd ever met in her squad. She's got the same ramrod posture, the same eyes that could kill a person with just a glare, and that same stubborn will to protect those she cares about, like Vaggie possesses. She's also taken a particular interest in Vaggie lately. Like something shifted in the overlord's perception of her after that first "training" session. That first one had led to more, and more training led to Carmilla opening up a bit.

There had been something very...familiar about Carmilla in the beginning. Vaggie had chalked it up to her battling her sister Exorcists down here for so long, that she's just become Hell's resident angel expert. But boooooy, had Vaggie known the actual source of Carmilla Carmine's angelic knowledge, she might have been more prepared for the absolute spectacle that was about to play out right in front of her.

It's just a day like any other. Carmilla has gotten used to Vaggie just popping in when things are slow at the hotel, so Vaggie hadn't seen the need to call ahead. It's the end of the week, so Odette and Clara are likely out in the warehouses getting ready for weekend shipments. Those two work their asses off, and honestly, she kind of admires them for it. It reminds her of Charlie.

Carmilla can usually be found in her office on Friday afternoons, so that's exactly where Vaggie goes. The path to the office is now so familiar, she doesn't even need to ask directions anymore. She makes her way there on her own. When she faces the door, she knocks lightly to be polite. When Carmilla doesn't answer, she knocks again. Still no response.

Wondering if Carmilla is just having trouble hearing her, Vaggie lets herself in, because she's done it before. That's probably her first mistake. Familiarity breeds complacency, and that's a trap she vows to never fall into again. Not after what she sees in that office.

Carmilla is seated at her big executive desk in her big executive office chair, right where Vaggie had expected her to be. What Vaggie hadn't expected, however, is the tall (very tall) woman with hair like clouds and wings like fluffy down sucking face with the esteemed Carmilla Carmine. The woman is practically sitting in Carmilla's lap, and the two of them are necking like teenagers hiding under the bleachers after school. Vaggie is standing there, with the door open, gawking at the two women because she's simply too stunned to move.

That had been her second mistake, and the one that ultimately sealed Vaggie's fate.

Carmilla must sense she's being watched, because she looks up, and then immediately pulls away. Once her eyes meet with Vaggie's across the room, she launches the other woman out of her lap, who falls backward onto the desk in surprise, making a little "Oomph!" noise as she makes contact with the hard wooden surface. The woman's not hurt, but she definitely lets Carmilla know exactly how that felt.

"Carmilla!" the woman shouts. "What in the Hell did you do that for?!"

That voice. Vaggie knows that voice. Her brain works like a supercomputer trying to recall old memories, working out where she knows it from...

The barracks in Heaven. The training yard, during the semi-annual Exorcist inspection. Her conversations with Sera, when she'd felt like an actual person for once in her immortal life...

Vaggie's fears are confirmed when the woman stands, reaching her hands around to rub at her wings where they'd gotten squished beneath her when she fell, and then turns to face the door.

Golden eyes first meet the grayish blue of the other woman's, and then Carmilla's red eyes as Vaggie looks between the two of them, back and forth, over and over like her brain is still desperately trying to work out a complicated puzzle.

Except this puzzle isn't that complicated. It's 64 pieces at the absolute fucking most. Child's play.

It's Carmilla, and it's Sera, in Carmilla's office, kissing like love-struck teenagers at Carmilla's desk, as if this is just something that they do on a Friday. Like it's just normal.

"Carmilla?" Vaggie asks, speaking to the arms dealer with so many other questions implied in her voice. "Sera?"

The former Exorcist's vocabulary has been stunted to only a first-name basis. Vaggie pleads with them in name alone. The anguish with which she says their names...and all the confusion and frustration she feels at seeing her former, and current, mentor together, like this...without her knowing...

Both older women realize exactly what must be transpiring in Vaggie's mind at that moment. Carmilla stands, and starts moving toward the door, perhaps to try and explain herself, or justify whatever Vaggie saw before she gets the wrong idea...

"Vaggie," Carmilla pleads. "I can explain."

Vaggie doesn't know why she runs. It's the exact opposite thing that she should do, if she actually wants answers. Which she does. But it's almost like instinct. Nothing in front of her own eyes makes sense anymore. And when the sense is lacking, all Vaggie can do in the moment is escape.

She hears Carmilla, and then Sera, both calling after her. It isn't her choice to run, but her body forces her, like it has a will of its own, with so many of her other problems.

The last thing Vaggie hears as she practically leaps to the bottom of the staircase is Sera's voice shouting. "Vaggie, please stop!" are the last words her ears can catch, before she's out the front door and running down the street. Forgetting for a moment that she even has wings, she bolts back to the Hotel, and the safety of Charlie's arms, like the little pathetic coward that she is.

This was getting long. Let me know if you want more.

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #sera hazbin hotel #seramilla #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #lute hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #emily hazbin hotel #ask #fan theories #mentors together au

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punkpandapatrixk · 1 year ago

Text

Full Beaver Moon in Gemini ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

(I’m ultra-sorry for this PAC being ultra-late!! I’ve been in deep, intense spiritual rehab🙏🏻Also, y’all have NO idea how much psychotic psychic ‘opposition’ I was fighting to get through with this PAC! It was plain insanity at this point. If you’ve found this PAC and you resonate, please, PLEASE, take care of your spiritual wellbeing and amp up your psychic protection for next year!)

☆♪°・.

Collectively speaking, the whole of Mankind is being prepared for a massive transformation that, hopefully, will lead to real, lasting harmony and prosperity. It is high time Mankind grew up and learnt to be responsible for the choices it makes in regards to co-Creation with the Universe. Where attention goes, aenergy goes, right?

Every man’s priority and perspective hold the power to shape—and reshape—Reality. For realz. For we are all part of that same fabric of Reality, we are constantly, with each other, co-Creating various spectrum of experiences that affect each other’s wellbeing. It’s inevitable. Your attention is what gives power to the Matrix. If you want to beat the System, you need to learn its mechanism and ultimately, stop giving your attention to Reality creation that doesn’t serve the highest good of all of Mankind.

Full Beaver Moon was on November 27. Its effects can still be felt by most peeps until at least April Fool’s next year (funny). This full moon is second to last before this year’s final Full Cold Moon on December 26, which will be in Cancer; and so the meaning of this Beaver Moon is for us to gather as much resource as possible before the cold winter.

For this Beaver Moon is in Gemini—the sign of thinking and learning—this implies gathering info, perspective, knowledge, intel as much as possible for us to study and digest all throughout winter. Sounds funny but trust me this will be SO relevant by spring next year. The aenergy I’m tapping into is super intense as the whole of Mankind is being ushered into a phase of rapid growing pains that will affect societies on a global scale.

Death of an old paradigm. Death of the 3D Self. It’s all happening. If you identify as a Lightworker or a Starseed, the message you find here could potentially be more relevant to you than most other peeps you know in your circle. You’re in gestation mode. Get ready because spring might be…weird?

It’s high time Mankind learnt to be responsible for its real power of co-Creation. Those who are more spiritually attuned have always had a craving for a freer, more authentic existence. Use this time to rest your heart, your mind, your soul, and let your Higher Self show you the way towards new avenues and grounds for things and pursuits you’ve always felt a calling to.

Even your weirdest hobbies and interests are no coincidence, hon. 2024 will probably not allow anyone to have a stagnant time—for better or worse… But you? You’re going to have a blast! I just know it🥂

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Spread Your Wings and Fly Away

resource – 3 of Pentacles

I hope you acknowledge just how resourceful you are as a person. On top of that, you’re naturally courageous. If you feel like you’re not that brave, it must’ve been your environment and the people you’ve met that have dimmed that fire in you. It is now time to reclaim your authentic voice. And you need to begin with acknowledging just how much your environment is stifling your creativity and/or originality. It is only by understanding the patterns that have shaped the way you view yourself can you then unravel that false perception that, you could say, was imposed on you.

Don’t kill your inner child to please the adults around you—no matter who these adults may be (they could be your peers if you’re already an adult yourself). When you were born into this world you carried seeds of courage, creativity and invention. All of these are such precious gifts for Mankind. You were supposed to develop yourself as one of the new builders of New Earth. You may have forgotten the minute details of your blueprint, but I know that you know it in your heart of hearts that this is the truth of your reason for being born :D

recollection – XVII The Star

You’re literally the only Pile that’s gotten a Major Arcana. Surely you know you’re a Starseed? :D If you don’t, you soon will. Perhaps your parents know something about the ‘waves of volunteers’ that was quite a topic back in the 60s or 70s? (I’m not duper sure about the timeline lol) At any rate, you have a great destiny ahead of you and it is imperative that you acknowledge this of yourself first before you’re launched into initiation*. What’s that about, you ask?

Many of your latent talents that may still be offline right now will gradually be uncovered for you. Throughout 2024, I’m sure you will experience many awakenings of sort that will propel you into remembering bits and pieces of talents you had acquired in other lifetimes. All of these gifts, are your gifts to Humanity. There is a divine reason why you’ve had to work so hard for your own personal transformation before you could assist others in helping themselves transform their paradigm. OK?

respite – 10 of Cups Rx

It is rather common for Starseeds to feel like the family they were born into, isn’t the family they belong to. Many Starseeds even find themselves look quite visibly physically different from the rest of their family. There’s just something there that seems to act as a bridge between your entire existence and theirs. You don’t think the same way; your moralities totally clash; the essences of your values are worlds apart; and so on. You’re right, these people aren’t the people you’re meant to call ‘family’. Their only purpose is to show you how ‘crazy’ develops in people, all for you to learn to navigate it and put an end to generational curses on Planet Earth. And thus it begins at ‘home’.

I have a feeling that for many of you reading this, there is an elder in your family—a much older elder—whom you could actually talk to, who would be able to share information about circumstances surrounding your birth or the bloodline you are born into. In another scenario, this person may not be older but simply possesses immense knowledge pertaining to your raison d’etre or even Life Purpose. In yet another scenario, it may not necessarily be a family member but rather, a teacher, a divine someone you meet serendipitously, or some random-ass wise Boomer you watch on YouTube who holds ideas and perspectives that make you feel seen and validated.

The period from this Full Beaver Moon until at least April next year may involve a lot of healthy grieving. Let yourself feel those emotions and feel Human. You deserve a safe space to be yourself and see all your dreams manifest. You’ve got this, OK? One day you will be serving the Light by sharing your stories😊

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

*I’ve included further technical interpretations of what this ‘initiation’ means for Lightworkers and Starseeds in the bonus content🐛

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Where Have You Come From and Where Are You Going, Dear Traveller?

resource – 7 of Cups Rx

In your childhood, I feel like you were forced to grow up faster than your peers. Your environment was not exactly friendly to the dreams and imaginations of a child. So you grew up to become practical, pragmatic and responsible rather quickly. But it was really hard to grow up like that because you, the real you, are a visionary. A visionary is someone who has many dreams and wild ideas, and in the right environment, a quality like that would’ve been much, much more celebrated! In the wrong environment, a dreaminess such as that is stifled.

This FM in Gemini invites you to revisit this dreaminess of yours because in your imaginations and daydreams lies the map of your Soul. Where have you come from and where are you going, dear visionary? Understanding your place in the world helps you gain insight about your Life Purpose, so to speak. What gifts have you brought into this world to share with Humanity? What challenges have you come face to face that have shaped your unique skills and perceptions?

recollection – 6 of Cups

Your home environment, your family and society have shaped the person that you are. It is important to understand your ‘roots’, kinda, so you know your strengths and weaknesses when standing in the midst of society. The rich kid from the upper echelons of society will possess skills and knowledge the poor kid from the hood wasn’t fed with. But likewise, the poor kid from the hood will possess perspectives and street smarts that are very unique in comparison to the shielded experiences of most privileged kids. Something like that.

One is not necessarily superior to the other. It’s mostly about understanding where you’ve come from and where these experiences, skills and perspectives could get you. Know your own uniqueness and use that to serve Humanity as you use that to take care of yourself and those you care about. A true sense of success can only come from being useful to other people, for the most part…unless you’re a psychopath XD

respite – King of Pentacles

You have so many natural talents that could make you money, that much I’d like to reaffirm. But more importantly than money, it’s that you have such a strong penchant for true leadership. If you work with your Throat chakra, you could become a very appealing public speaker. You could convince people to join your causes. But to become a true leader of the new world, you must possess good morality, so don’t forget to take care of your Solar Plexus and Heart chakras, so you don’t fall into the trapping of manipulation through speech.

Honestly, I think you are such a good person in spite of all the mental/psychological hardships you’ve had to grow up with. Calm your nerves down and enjoy slow moments with, idk, camomile tea or lavender bath, every now and then? Relaxation practices like breathing meditation, or even just fixing your sleeping pattern/schedule, could help you get in touch with your inner child again and I feel that this is something that will be important for you throughout this winter☃️Everything about your Life will become a lot clearer by spring, trust that😉

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Pile 3 – Let the Past Die and Live on For Your Soul Tribes

resource – 3 of Cups

Honey, it’s time for you to rejoice. You’ve been through so much disappointment, so much heartbreak, and people have betrayed and abandoned you, and you’ve come through nevertheless. Surely that deserves some kind of karmic reward? Your Spirit Guides, your Soul Family, are applauding you for all you’ve been through. I think you’ve worked hard on yourself. Releasing yourself from past pains, distancing yourself—to the best of your ability—from toxic people and environments, and you’re about ready to serve your Dharmic Purpose.

I know many of you reading this will resonate with having worked on transmuting a lot of generational karma, but plenty of you tapping into this reading have even worked on transmuting geological karma and curses. The geographical location you were born into or the race you were born into, collectively speaking these kinds of things also carry generational curses based on terrible things that have happened on that location. I’d like you to know that you’ve done so much just by existing! You are the magic, the miracle that you’ve been hoping to see in the world🐣

recollection – Page of Pentacles

You’re an individual of many talents, but I’m sure there’s like 2 or 3 things you’re INSANELY good at. Do you know what they are? If you focus all of your aenergy on just these few main talents, you will literally shift your whole Reality to a much higher bandwidth! Try it. By focusing on just these few main pursuits, I sense you will be attracting your Soul Tribes at a much faster rate. I’m seeing these pulsating energetic vortexes that represent you and your Soul Tribes currently incarnate on Earth. These vortexes are spinning and expanding so rapidly that you and your Soul Tribes are magnetising each other into your morphogenetic fields—essentially, your Realities.

You and your Soul Tribes literally have unique missions on Earth and when you meet and collab, everything is going to make sense for you. These seemingly different groups of people are doing things (or exist in industries) that are similar to your own interests and visions for the world. I sense you may have felt a calling to be part of a certain industry and you’ve been studying and preparing yourself for that. ATTENTION! THIS. IS. NOT. RANDOM. You are being manifested by that industry if anything LMAO You have a place there so keep going!🌾

respite – 2 of Cups Rx

With all of that said, let this reading be your confirmation that you can make the choice to die to everyone and everything that doesn’t align with this vision in your mind that you know comes from your Soul. Be a ghost. Hustle in quiet. Don’t spill the beans until they are ready for planting. And when you plant, plant with your Soul Family and not those who are only pretending to be there for you so they can take advantage of you later!

Connections with your real Soul Tribes are going to feel effortlessly uplifting on top of being respectful of boundaries. Interactions and exchanges with your real Soul Tribes are never going to make you feel icky. Trust your gut instinct when you feel that someone you’ve come to trust is probably manipulating you with kind or sweet words imbued with some dishonourable intent. You’re probably right but let’s not take chances; you’ve had enough, so keep your brains about you, too. Best to use this time to build—or rebuild—your world of everything that makes Life worth living🎂

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tigreblvnc · 4 months ago

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YOUR LIFE IN BLUE LOCK — @nikonautic

BACKGROUND HEADCANONS;

♤ As a kid you had good academics, i’d assume your parents put much care into your activities.

♤ So naturally, selecting a sport/extracurricular was expected as well. Soccer was pushed on to you, but you weren’t against it as you were able to use your creativity in a more physical manner than usual.

♤ Eventually you were scouted by Ego, since he caught on to your desire to make an impact, and wanted to see just how hard you’d work for it.

♤ His answer is a lot.

♤ In bluelock, you met a few people who you connected with. And knew that there’d be more along the line. If there was any place where you could meet people who you felt most comfortable with, it’d be in bluelock.

♤ So you endured and adapted through everything they put you through.

♤ And it paid off!

COLOR AURA;

♤ Yellow.

♤ A nice dandelion yellow

♤ A perfect mix of your socialness, weirdness, and ideals.

♤ You want a color that’ll leave an impact? Can’t think of anything better. The brightness of yellow is often used to balance out other parts, and can often do so on its own, without relying on other colors.

♤ Yellow looks amazing in so many palettes. It can work in many situations, even ones you think it may not look good in. But if you darken or dim it too much, it becomes much harder to appreciate.

♤ Because of that, for yellow to look its best, it must be used in usually similar tints and tones as its surroundings. As long as there aren’t too many mismatches within an environment, yellow can always pop out and support the picture in the best way.

TEAM SELECTION;

♤ Bastard München

♤ With understanding being one of your main strengths, it makes sense that you can quickly gather the details of a situation.

♤ Whether it be emotional or logistical details, both help you understand the whole situation on the field

♤ No one on BM handles failure well, there you’ll be fighting with people with the same underlying fear of losing. Although things may vary between you guys, that will remain the same.

♤ Emotions aren’t something you have to worry about either. BM is the last team to judge you for getting overly intense on field, it seems to be the case with everyone.

♤ The lead players on BM all have incredibly strong goals, and will put almost anything on the line to achieve them, spectacular plays are the expectation.

♤ This I feel you would link into very quickly.

BEST FRIEND;

✦ What a magnificent duo, Niko :)

✦ I'm not only talking about your BFF… but about your overall dynamic, not just with your BFF but with your rival as well.

✦ Not to mention your position on the field.

✦ (Although, I am going to talk about it.)

✦ I think Isagi is perfect for supporting you in your desire to grow and affirm yourself through your successes. It's a strong trait that stands out in your entire description: you seek recognition for who you are through your achievements.

✦ Isagi is very skilled at analyzing and understanding every type of player, as we've seen multiple times in the manga.

✦ And I believe he quickly grasped your intentions, how you play, and why you play that way.

✦ We also know he's someone who performs better in a tandem than alone. I'm convinced that with you, he forms a formidable duo on the field.

✦ He not only helps you achieve your goals but also makes an excellent companion in your growth. It's entirely mutual, as he also learns from your game and personality.

✦ In short, one of the healthiest duos in the lore.

RIVAL;

✦ I didn't choose your rival by chance.

✦ I find that Kaiser is one of those characters who craves recognition more than almost anyone else in the Blue Lock cast.

✦ There's a huge identity quest behind why he plays. He seeks to define himself through his achievements, through his victories. He's someone who wants to be acknowledged for what he can accomplish on the field.

✦ And like you, he has doubted himself a lot. His self-esteem is complex, even damaged by his past. These are things he hides, trying to repair through everything he's building in the present.

✦ Seeing someone else on the field, motivated by similar intentions, could hit him like a lightning bolt.

✦ Understanding someone's intentions because you share them doesn't make that person a friend. This can even spark a rivalry, as a form of ego establishes itself: "It'll be me, and me alone."

✦ At the same time, I also think you’re both capable of recognizing each other's worth. You just don't openly admit it. On the contrary, I even think you tend to hold back from each other in public.

✦ But I know that in private, you both acknowledge that you have a formidable opponent who can teach you, even indirectly, how to surpass yourselves. How to turn weaknesses into strengths.

POSITION ON THE FIELD;

✦ Striker.

✦ The first striker of this matchup series :D Pleased to meet you. 🤝

✦ It's not a position for everyone: it requires boldness, courage, and an initiative that not everyone has.

✦ This position further amplifies the dynamic between you, Isagi, and Kaiser.

✦ You become the eye of the storm during the tense moments of the match.

✦ On one hand, you're supported by Isagi. On the other, you know that the threat of a Kaiser pushed to his limits could cost you the victory.

✦ In this particularly stimulating environment, you can give your best, highlight your qualities, and challenge the greatest opponents.

✦ The emergence of Niko in front of the whole world :)

#suo matchups #yourlifeinbllk #blue lock matchups #bllk matchups #isagi yoichi x reader #bllk isagi #blue lock isagi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #blue lock kaiser #kaiser x reader #bllk kaiser

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 month ago

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hello!! i recently saw one of your MHA matchups and it was written so well!! i was wondering if I could ask for an MHA matchup as well?? i was hoping for a romantic matchup with a male character :) teachers/villains preferably if that’s okay!

i’m 20, and i go by they/them pronouns! as for my physical appearance, i have very long, black hair and i’m really pale (i struggle with going out bc of some mental health issues, so i tend to coop myself up all day and work from home). i have a bunch of piercings as well as tattoos, and i tend to lean towards a more messy “mall goth-ish” aesthetic in the way that i dress and do my makeup!

as for hobbies/things i enjoy, i really love cooking. i spend a lot of time finding new recipes and trying them out. i really like music and tend to lean towards bands like Slowdive and Nine Inch Nails! i love video games, (specifically old 2000’s horror games lol), horror movies, and the macabre. i love to collect odd trinkets and bones as well as vintage video game consoles! i also draw quite often and love making little crafts for others out of my drawings like stickers and stuff :)

thank you so much for taking the time to read my request even if you may end up unable to get to it!! <3 have a wonderful day!

Hello, I'm sorry for the bit of the wait! And thank you for the compliment! <3333

I really hope you like your matchup!

I made sure it was only a teacher or villain.

Though I was struggling between two characters, I found your match after further pondering! <3

Enjoy!

Romantic Matchup: My Hero Academia

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

My Hero Academia;

Shota Aizawa -

You were the newly hired art teacher at U.A.

You were taking on the role of helping students explore their creativity amidst their rigorous hero training.

You considered your class a breather for them, possibly even art therapy.

It wasn't exactly easy for you to step into such a lively environment, given your preference for solitude, but the idea of sharing your passion for art motivated you.

You first met Shota during a staff meeting.

His disheveled appearance, tired eyes, and overall 'I don't want to be here' demeanor immediately intrigued you.

He, on the other hand, noticed your unique look - long black hair, your goth-inspired attire, and the confident way you carried yourself despite the situation - and found himself oddly drawn to your quiet intensity.

Your first real conversation happened in the teachers' lounge.

Shota caught you sketching during your break, his tired eyes lingering on the intricate details of your work.

After a moment of silence, he muttered, "About time they hired someone who knows what they're doing. Guess the kids might actually learn something for once."

His tone was dry, and he didn't say much more, even when you gave him a smile.

Shota wasn't the type to forge fast friendships, but you found yourself becoming his regular lunch companion.

You bonded over your shared love for quiet spaces and introspection.

Often, you find comfort in just sitting in silence together.

He was one of the few people who truly appreciated your crafts - aside from Hizashi. When you gifted him a sticker of his cat.

He totally would show you pictures of his cat.

(He has a cat now).

Not talking about Sushi here.

Anyway!

When you gifted him a sticker of his cat, he couldn't stop himself from smiling faintly and sticking it on his reusable water bottle.

You introduced Shota to your love of cooking, often bringing him homemade bentos during long staff meetings or little treats for your shared lunch.

He wasn't much of a cook himself, but he started picking up little tricks from you, eventually learning how to make your favorite type of coffee because, "You deserve better than the sludge in the teachers' lounge."

Movie nights became a tradition between the two of you.

Shota was surprisingly open to your collection of your old horror movies, though he'd often fall asleep halfway through - his head resting on your shoulder as you tried not to die of cuteness overload at how cute peaceful he looked amidst the chaos on screen.

The shift from friendship to something a bit more was subtle.

Shota found himself looking forward to seeing you every day, noticing the little things about you like how your eyes lit up when you talked about your latest art project or when you got another vintage video game console to add to your collection, or how you would hum softly to a 'Nine Inch Nails' song while preparing food or snacks.

For you, it was the way he always seemed to look out for you, from ensuring you didn't overwork yourself to subtly stepping in when you struggled in social situations

His quiet protectiveness made you feel seen and cared for.

Neither of you was particularly expressive about your feelings - Shota most definitely - but the tension between the two of you grew palpable.

Little touches; like his hand brushing against yours while passing a coffee mug or the way his gaze lingered for a bit too long. The way you would play with his hair when watching movies or the way you would take extra care when preparing his food, trying to make it perfect... It all hinted at what neither of you dared to say.

For now...

The confession came after a particularly stressful day for you.

You were venting to Shota about how overwhelmed everything felt, and he quietly listened, offering his calm presence.

He didn't know when his mind began to wander, but it did.

"How did you get your makeup that perfect like that?" He would himself ask himself. "I really want to hold your hand."

Before he knew it, he was blurting out, "I care about you."

You stopped ranting, pausing, turning to look at him.

He looked nervous, surprised that the words just flew out of him, but he continued, "More than I should for a colleague."

You were stunned at first.

"I care about you too, Shota," You admitted, your cheeks flushed.

That moment marked the beginning of something beautiful.

Shota frequently surprises you with little acts of service, like cleaning up your workspace when you're too overwhelmed or leaving small, thoughtful notes in your lunchbox.

You both share quiet mornings together, sipping coffee while you sketch and he reads or grades homework,

It's a domestic bliss that neither of you ever thought you'd enjoy so much.

He takes you on low-key dates to places he knows you'll love, like antique shops where you can hunt for trinkets or quiet museums where you both can admire paintings

You often cook together, with Shota trying his best to follow your instructions.

While he’s no master chef, he enjoys the intimacy of the activity, especially when you sneak a kiss on his cheek for encouragement.

You both adopt a stray cat together, naming it "Void" to match its dark fur.

Void and Shota's cat are the best furrrrends furever...

Sorry.

They are both your fur babies.

Your home becomes a cozy blend of your two styles.

You love braiding Shota's hair, it helps both of you calm down and relax.

He's incredibly protective, always making sure you feel safe and supported.

If anyone ever dismisses your interests, personality, or opinions, Shota has no problem setting them straight.

And the same goes for you protecting him.

Shota would go out of his way to learn about your favorite things, even trying his hand at drawing to make you things, that would make you smile.

On tough mental health days, he's patient and understanding, knowing when to give you space and when to pull you into his arms for a hug.

You'd draw him in your sketchbooks, multiple pages just of him; his hair, his hands, his eyes, his mouth, just him.

Shota, half-asleep, mumbling, “You’re too good for me,” As he pulls you closer during one of your late-night movie marathons.

You'd smile softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Says the guy who’s literally perfect,” You whisper, pressing a light kiss to his temple. “Now go back to sleep, you sap.”

You trying to paint his nails black for fun, only for him to sit still for ten seconds before smudging them accidentally.

He'd offer his scarf when you forget yours, wrapping it snugly around your neck and muttering about how you need to take better care of yourself.

Lazy afternoons spent on the couch with Void and his other cat sprawled between you, your fingers gently running through Shota’s hair as he quietly drifts off to sleep.

Lots of lunch naps together in his sleeping bag.

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epersonae · 8 months ago

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Hi - good morning.

this may be a weird, out of place message.

I was mutuals with Ryn (when they went by Kath) many many years ago. We interacted briefly, but Ryn was one of my favourite follows. They got me into Mass Effect, which is now my favourite franchise. I deleted tumblr years ago, but would think of Ryn and the passion for Tess from TLOU often. Though I was not a TLOU fan, the stories and world Ryn created for Tess really stayed with the me.

Ryn came to mind recently and I was curious to know their thoughts on the live action Tess. I remade tumblr to find their blog as I had forgotten the url. I found their tumblr because of the joel miller "foxy grandpa" profile pic, which still made me laugh even years later. I was devastated to find Ryn had passed.

I know I am just a stranger on the internet, but I wanted to share that is not infrequent that Ryn crosses my mind. Ryn's love for Tess, their creativity, and their humour really stayed with me through the years. I will think of them for years to come.

I am so sorry for your loss. Ryn was truly a bright light light in this world that we have lost.

Not weird, not out of place -- I teared up when I saw your message, and thank you for this.

I always feel so honored when people reach out about their experiences with Ryn. They had such an effect on so many people who I never met and probably never will meet, and I especially love hearing from friends from other fandoms. We met through fandom, we became friends and creative collaborators and then fell in love, and our first date was a liveshow for The Adventure Zone. And so I treasure that this was such a huge part of their life.

They were restarting Mass Effect, the new (? remastered?) version that came out in 2021, the summer before they died. I got to see them play just a little bit, and they were going to show me all their favorite things and share the lore, and what they loved about it. (I am terrible at most video games, so I probably won't ever play it myself, alas.)

I know they loved Tess from TLOU - I also got a little bit of their hot takes about Joel, and iirc about people woobifying him? I had no idea what the hell the "foxy grandpa" Joel Miller icon was about when we first became friends, but I also associate it so much with them.

I don't know if the live action was any further than having been announced by the time they died; if it was, I don't remember their thoughts. (@adreamingofguns can you check me on this? between it not being my thing and 2021 being entirely consumed with the Horrors and the wedding, I cannot remember) I thought about watching it for them, but got warned off on account of a variety of themes that are a little too close to my various traumas, but I have vicariously enjoyed it through various mutuals who were watching.

Thank you thank you thank you again for the ask. I got a bunch of messages on various platforms when I posted from their accounts, including some folks who I am still mutuals with now. We had such a short time together, in the grand scheme of things, that it brings me both intense joy and intense sorrow to encounter other people who cherished their passion, creativity, and humor.

#and this week of all weeks #our wedding anniversary (legal) is this coming week #so I have been thinking of them extra lately #so silly and earnest and bitchy #I carry them in my heart #I'm glad you do too #not all exits are made equal

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babymockers · 1 year ago

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I was going through my drafts the other day when I found this, written in the peak of my Graham Coxon obsession, a couple of years ago. Since it's so long, I had to cut this story into two parts (I was very creative 🙄).

I don’t know why I’m sharing this, but enjoy!

"I can’t see what you see in me"

Graham Coxon x female reader.

Prompt: Graham was having a really hard time with himself during a photoshoot and you had a great idea to cheer him up. Heavily inspired by Blair and Serena stealing Eleanor Waldorf's clothing line clothes on Gossip Girl (s1, e4).

Place/time: during the late 90's.

Reader description: reader is a French model trying to make herself a name in the industry, while being reduced to be in her boyfriend's shadow.

Fluff.

Part 1.

Graham was alone.

He was sitting on his stupid chair, drinking tea from his stupid cup, feeling even more stupid than he did before.

Now, for the amateur eye, he didn't seem that much alone. He was surrounded by people: make up artists, stylists, cameras, all that stuff. But he was, in fact, alone. Alone and bored.

Also, it was a terribly cold winter and a storm was probably coming at any time while they were stuck there working outdoors in a park.

So he was falling asleep on his stupid chair. Again.

Suddenly, he heard an excited voice calling his name, a voice that he knew a little too well from the person that he loved the most.

"Graham!" you shouted and he quicky turned his body towards the direction of the sound, standing up. You ran onto his arms and hugged him tightly making him almost lost balance. Even though he was surprised, his arms reached out for your body instinctively.

Still in his arms, you took his face with your soft hands and placed a sweet kiss onto his lips, him melting at the touch.

Alex, sitting next to that romantic scene, looked at you with genuine curiosity, trying to make something of your face. Wondering if you two have met before.

The truth was: you haven't. It may have sounded strange considering that in the past couple of months, you had been omnipresent-like to the Blur guys. Your name was always there, filling not only the empty spaces of the rehearsals but filling Graham's mind completely. You were present whole-heartedly in Graham's dreamy smiles and little giggles that came out of nowhere and in every new song that came with a dumb look of im-so-in-love. Present in the purple-ish marks on Graham's neck or like a stolen kiss from his plumped lips. Present in Damon's laugh every time he made fun of his best friend's infatuation but secretely holding an enormous respect for you that made him feel almost rotten to jealousy. "He doesn't need me anymore. He's got Y/N now. She'll take care of him" Damon used to say. But he didn't meant it. Not really.

You were great, the best one Graham ever had. The other ones were either boring or pretentious cunts, in the singer's own words. But he couldn't help to feel overprotective towards his best friend and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit jealous of the fact that Graham was so in love with you.

Damon loved attention. And Graham's attention was like crack because it was hard to make him interested in someone for real.

And the other times, you were there in body and soul, sitting in a corner taking pictures of whatever you founded interesting enough or simply hanging out.

So it was really weird for Alex to not have met you yet. Sure he heard the name, but Graham had been smart enough to make Alex and you not cross any paths. He knew Alex too well to trust him.

Dave chuckled and wolf-whistled, making Graham's cheeks turn red and he separated his lips from yours, unable to hide the big smile plastered on his face.

He never had anyone loving him like you do. So intense and passionate, so caring and gentle like a little child, rushing into his arms and calling his name for the whole town to hear it. Making him feel special, wanted. You could have anyone but, and here's the big but, you wanted him. And proudly so, as you always said.

"W-what are you doing here? I thought you weren't in England" He asked in confusion.

Your smile turned into a frown "And I thought you'd be happy to see me...”

"No, no. Please don't get me wrong. I'm just confused. I mean..." He started to panic.

You cut him off with a big smile "I'm joking, Gra. Turns out i don't have to work this couple of days because the collection got ruined by the rain and the photoshoot had to be rescheduled. The CEO was so angry, you should've seen him. He treated us very badly and that left me feeling sick to my stomach. So I remembered you were having a photoshoot here and I took the plane and well... I got an impulse. It's okay, right? I won't bother you. Just here for moral support" You said in a rush. "Oh, hi Dave". Dave waved his hand. Then you turned to Alex "I believe we haven't met yet. I'm Y/ N". You offered him your hand. "Alex, right? Heard lots of things about you".

He took your hand and gently placed a kiss on it "Good things I hope. So you're the famous Y/N". He turned to Dave but shot a quick look towards Graham, who was eyeing carefully at the exchange that was occurring in front of him, looking quite uneasy. "I must say I never expected that our little Graham was shagging such a pretty bird. Where are you from, Love? You've got a lovely accent". Graham tensed.

The awkwardness of the situation was only intensified by him pointing out your accent. You knew Alex didn't mean any harm, but that didn't sooth the rage in Graham's throat.

You've been officially named "Graham Coxon's New French Girlfriend" by the media and while you've told Graham so many times that it was a honor to be his girlfriend, he knew you were more than that stupid title. After all, you had a career of your own. You coincidentally met him at an event and now you've been living together in England for almost a year. But it just sort of happened. It wasn't your problem the media became obsessed with you.

And also you really wanted to get rid of the accent.

You opened your mouth to say something but before anything came out, Graham spoke in a condescending tone:

"She's french, Alex. You should know since you seem to get along so well with the french gals".

"Well... Alex begun.

"Where's Damon? I thought this was a group photoshoot" you interrumpted him trying to distract the tension away.

As if summoned, Damon appeared with a lopsided grin, always in his very own world. He kissed your cheek in a scandalous way and put his arm around Graham, although his best triend didn't even look at him. He was too busy shooting Alex with his gaze.

"Graham, it's fucking cold out here, put something on, mate. Jesus, you look like you're going to kill someone and I'm not in the "hiding a corpse" mood" Damon said completely oblivious to the fact that he was the one wearing only a suit and Graham was wearing a big jacket. Classic Damon. Then, he continued: "Well, the photographer, that bastard, just said he needed both of us, Alex, in front of the camera 'cause, I quote him: "Alex could make the suit work 'cause he's a good looking fella". I told him he could kiss my ass or my face, whatever. I quite fancy him. But not like I fancy you, Graham" He said battling his lashes, kissing Graham's temple. "You look sexy when you're angry. Love it".

Alex rolled his eyes, tired, and grinned at Graham

"Don't be mad at me, you twat. I was joking". Then he said to you: "Nice meeting ya, doll".

"Careful there, Alex. He's not playing around when Y/N is involved. Quite jealous he is" Damon laughed before the two of them started walking towards the photographer, who was already waiting for them. Damon rushed onto him, giving him a kiss on the cheeks.

You laughed at his childish behavior.

Dave patted Graham's shoulders and excused himself before making his way towards the improvised trailer the team managed to put together.

Graham lit up another cigarette letting the nicotine calm his burning insides and peered over the working crew to see Damon and Alex both wearing 1930's suits and posing as camera flashes exploded in their faces. He sat in a little bench, you by his side: "They look great. I didn't look as great as them".

You took his hand in yours. "You okay?"

"What is it like?" He said after a moment of silence, not looking at you but somehow giving you all his attention. "To be a model, you know. To have all of those people looking at you and telling you to make faces or something".

"Well, it's definitely not as fun as it may look. I used to think that it would be easy, that you only needed to be pretty and you'd be fine. But it's exhausting, actually". You smiled sadly "I often think l'd be better behind the cameras, being the one taking pictures”.

"You took some lovely pictures the other day..."

You smiled. "And how's it like being a rockstar?".

"Don't let Damon hear you say that. He says Blur's not a rock band. I say Blur's whatever the fuck Blur wants to be". He laughed humorless.

"And what does Blur want to be?" You asked.

"I'm not quite sure. Probably not a rock band".

You both laughed.

You moved your body closer to him. "And what does Graham wants to be?"

"I don't know. He certainly would prefer staying in bed cuddled up with you. Take me away from this big bad world and agree to marry me". He said while he leaned back on the bench, resting his head on your lap and putting your hand on his head, practically forcing you to stroke his hair.

You giggled "Mmm... You just made that up?" He nodded. “It sounded like a song". You said while he looked up at you with a sly smile. You leaned in and kissed his forehead as you started: "Alex..."

He interrupted you: "Alex is a bastard, you should know that. He's far up his arse and thinks he's got the right to do anything 'cause he's sexy or whatever. It doesn't sit right with me sometimes. Let's forget about him". You nodded.

A couple of minutes went by with none of you talking and you thought he was falling asleep. You loved watching him sleep. It was like all the darkness there inside of him left his body and he was finally at peace with himself. Then he broke the silence: "Do you find him a handsome bloke?"

You struggled, trying to find the right words "He's alright. Big egos aren't really my thing, though. I think you're way more handsome than him".

He frowned "You can't possibly think that. It doesn't take too much to see that Alex and Damon are more attractive than me. I'm awkward and too self conscious. They're the handsome ones. They could "sell the product". And I-I-I'm not, you see? I don't sell the product. I’d probably won't look half as great as them in those ridiculous 1930's suits. I don't sell what Blur wants to be. Fuck, I don't even sell myself. I'm just here...”

You took his hand in yours, leaving a kiss in it "I think you're all those things you said about them. You're there being yourself with all your flaws and strenghts. And I think that's beautiful about you. You don't need to sell the product because there's no product at all. You're Graham Coxon, not the guitarist or the guy from Blur. You're the person and you're the most attractive to me because you feel and you love in a way that none of them do". You looked at his eyes intensely. "And you also look quite sexy when you're jealous, Damon's right, I must say”. You added, trying to relieve the tension on his shoulders.

He gasped, pretending to be offended "I wasn't jealous".

"Sure you weren't" You said mockingly causing him to laugh.

Then he went silent again.

He sighed "I just can't see what you see in me".

You looked at him. The tenderness in his factions. His big brown eyes full of the melancholic feeling that consumed him daily.

You just knew he was more than enough. You knew since the first time you met him. He was incapable of holding your gaze yet somehow he managed to got you blushing all night. He didn't knew a single word of French yet you understood him so well. You communicated through your souls. Words were unnecessary.

Graham, so fragile and so broken. Yet, he put together the broken pieces of yourself, the ones left bruised. Now you were glowing, sparkling.

You wanted to do the same for him.

Part 2 here

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #blur band #damon albarn #alex james #dave rowntree #Graham Coxon au #Graham coxon x female reader #blur au #graham coxon fanfic

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peachii-nitenite · 13 days ago

Text

Whipped Into Shape- Chapter 1 Muse and Maestro

summary: you reminisce about your beautiful friend, and she reminisces about you in return.

Mel x Reader Centric Chapter

chapter contents: mutual pining, fluff

fic masterlist

ao3 link

◈—-*——☆——-*——◈

Now Playing: She- Dodie

◈—-*——☆——-*——◈

You met Mel for the first time in your first year, second semester Art Basics class, when you had been paired together for a warmup sketch exercise.

And she was the most beautiful girl you’d seen in your life. Blindingly so, like the sun, like a star-

Like a Muse.

When you broke free from your trance of admiration, you plucked up the courage to stiffly introduce yourself. When she smiled, you briefly thought you had finally died of exhaustion and met a real life angel. She laughed prettily too.

It was hard not to stare. Not when she was exactly the kind of girl that sparked inspiration.

There were murmurs, eyes from around the room flickering towards her. It wasn’t the same sort of look you usually got, not in the slightest. There was awe, admiration, disbelief- but nothing blatantly negative.

You could tell right then and there she was someone important, even before she graced you with an introduction.

“I’m Mel, Mel Medarda. So…shall we get started?”

Her voice was smooth, warm, accented, and had no hint of malice or apprehension. It was more like she was assessing you, rather than judging you.

You liked that about her.

And she liked that you treated her like a normal person. You weren’t awestruck by her family name or who she was related to, you were simply in awe at her as a person. An individual. A peer.

You were equals as artists, and you were shocked to learn it wasn't her major after seeing the quality of her still-life sketches. She preferred painting landscapes, backgrounds, and design plates.

“I find faces oddly difficult…so my models never have proper heads-” she giggled after showing you her sketchbook. Fashion design was her minor, her “indulgence”, she called it.

You smiled and admired her work with starry eyes.

“Maybe we should work together then!” you pulled out your own sketchbook for her to page through.

You give her an eager grin.

“I’ll admit, my weak spot has always been landscapes…”

You hit it off quickly, becoming more relaxed and comfortable as you chatted your way through the warm up. Despite her elegant and regal bearing, you found out she was much more nonchalant than you expected- after all, she was basically a princess, and such a weighty legacy would stress anyone out. You would talk for hours swapping stories, talking about the way you see the world, about your creative pursuits, about your dreams-

About anything and everything you could think of- the conversation always came easy with her. And it was intensely refreshing to talk to someone who wasn't speaking to you strictly out of necessity or courtesy for once. You could be yourself, and that meant everything to you when it came to your friendships.

People often called her mysterious, or hard to read. Those people didn't know her.

Sketches of her littered your sketchbooks; of the face she made when she was trying not to laugh, of the face she made when she was focusing on fine details- endless doodles of her enigmatic eyes. She was easy to read when you really knew her. She preferred gold over silver, warm tones over cool tones, and detested the feeling of charcoal pastels. She was mischievous, a sucker for gossip, easily grossed out by insects-

And you found that the two of you were very alike.

She was a princess- sure, but she was always a Person first to you.

And that's what she loved about you. You were her reprieve from the weight of the expectations placed upon her. She made sure to tell you frequently.

She often found the Piltover elite tiresome, vapid, and endlessly boring. You were a breath of fresh air, as she had told you during a wine drunk night of gossip.

“Tell me, are they all… like that?” she whispered as you lounged in your tiny living room

“Are all who like what?” you looked up from your near empty glass with a quizzical brow

“The Piltovans. Are all of them so hopelessly dull or is it just the ones that I have to see every day?”

You snorted as you took another sip, moving to refill her glass as well.

“I ask myself the same thing almost every day, thank god I'm not the only one!”

She shot you a catlike grin, conspiratorial and satisfied as she clinked her glass against yours.

She was elegant in every way. She was everything you wished you could be.

You’d be envious if you didn’t enjoy her company so much. Or the special feeling of knowing that, as important as she was, she had chosen you to be friends with.

It meant a lot to you.

So despite the gap between you, it wasn’t jealousy that filled you when you spent time together. Just pure admiration.

She was simultaneously very close to you, but seemingly always a hair out of reach.

Like a muse.

You couldn't wait for her to come back.

Not when you had such big plans for this school year.

A new philosophy-

“Take Chances, Take Opportunities, and Take No Shit”

It was the sort of thing that would make her chuckle if you said it out loud.

Sometimes, you got bashful when you remembered just how astounding the few friends you had were. It made you feel so….normal in comparison. And growing up with so many expectations on your shoulders, it actually did more help than harm to your self esteem.

You were surrounded by gleaming, unreachable stars. But you were happy just to see them.

Your fond reverie was interrupted by the sound of the bus screeching to a halt, jostling you in your seat.

You took out your earbud to assess the situation. The driver was cursing loudly as he laid a heavy hand on the horn. Some idiot had run a red light and clipped the front driver’s side of the bus. You looked at the time on your phone and sighed in despair. Judging by the familiar street you were on, you weren't too far from campus. But if you lingered, or tried your chances catching the shuttle, you would probably be late.

Your best bet was to run.

Aw hell.

It was gonna be a rough day.

You texted Mel, getting up and settling your school bag on your shoulder.

—-

Messages: Mel✨👑

You: Pray for me. It's gonna be a long week…

—

Across the sea, your muse smiled sympathetically at her phone as she texted you back under the table. Anything you had to say would be vastly more interesting than whatever the mouldy old politician schmoozing up to her mother was currently spouting.

You. One of her dearest friends. Who she admired so dearly.

You were like the wind on the beach- free, clean, and fresh in comparison to the stale air of old mansions and stuffy networking events.

She wondered how your eyes would light up when she came back, and furthermore when she showed you the new pieces she had been working on.

Especially the fact that she had been practicing how to draw faces better.

Starting with yours.

“—But of course, her studies do come first, but I’m sure she could spare some time, so she and my son could—“

She rolled her eyes discreetly. She was so sick of these false, strategic friendships with the spoiled, vain, grown children of diplomats:

She was one of them, after all. She knew what could lurk beneath the veneer of perfection.

Smile when journalists bark and hound , pose when the cameras probe, and make nice with whoever provides the best optics at the moment.

It was exhausting.

She had seen the article about you before you had met. She often kept up with the local news of the places she visited for long stretches of time.

Your art caught her eye before your picture did.

There was something so dynamic, and passionate about it, even simply seeing it secondhand through her phone screen. Like dreams put to page, or like raw emotion finally processed.

Flawed, real; human, above all else.

She became something of a fan, rather quickly.

When she said she was pleased to meet you, after having met the intriguing artist in the flesh— it was one of the rare times that semester she had said it to someone and actually meant it.

In you she had found her very own, real, friend.

She kept that to herself, almost out of a fear that something or someone would keep you away if she were too open about it. After all, her status did come with burdens she’d never want you to shoulder.

But never in her life did she think she would yearn for school so badly.

But here she was. Dreaming of essays and late nights in your dorm living room that was the size of her closet. With no expectations, no facade to uphold.

A greedy part of her wanted to keep those moments all to herself, hidden away from the eyes of the world. To hide away with you for as long as possible in the little bubble of your cozy room.

Just her, her favorite artist, and her own pencil.

A landscape to hold your portraits.

She could not be greedy, and wouldn’t dare interfere with your social habits.

You were like the clean wind of the ocean. She could not harness you, even if she truly desired it.

So close, against her skin; but ultimately out of reach.

She smiled at the old man across the table as she texted you back discreetly, her face unchanging despite her disgust with the old coot’s leering gaze.

“Mel darling, what do you think? I’m sure you and his son would get along quite well”

Her mother’s scheming tone did not go unnoticed.

Another inevitable photo op. Another political pawn on a chessboard.

She smiled at the old man across the table as she texted you back discreetly, her face unchanging despite her disgust with the old coot’s leering gaze.

“…of course mother, one can never have too many friends…” she responded, coolly and with her usually elegant flair as she hit send on her message.

——

Messages: Maestro💛🎨

Mel✨👑: I will💛 I may need some prayers from you as well 🫠💫

—------------

#mutual pining #fluff #arcane #mel x reader #peachii fics #my fics #arcane netflix #friends to lovers

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