#you can't read them yet but it's really long so

[jweekgoji]

I just read your d-16 obsessed with famous reader and was kind of curious to think about what he would do when he became megatron like almost yandere obsessive

anyways… ily!!

Yandere!Megatron/Idol!Reader [TFO]

tw: yandere themes, obsession, possesive thoughts. word count: ~1,7k additional: gender-neutral!reader, ex-racer!reader, decepticon!reader. a/n: I did something similar before, you can read here if you want. however I would focus on different scenario here and mostly on exploring dynamic through inner feelings (if that makes sense). i think i wrote about more violent Megs before, so i wanted to write a bit softy one.

Pretty little thing.

Always on a pedestal, standing at the centre of attention, you rarely had to think about any problems. You were always surrounded by someone who would surely worry about it and solve everything at the flick of your wrist. The only thing that was needed was to just innocently clap your optics and enlighten the rest of the crowd with your beauty.

It's hard not to get used to it.

From the moment he saw you, you were amazing. No, perfect.

It seemed like every time he watched you from afar, he was looking at the brightest star in far, far away space. No matter how far away he stood, you always shined brightest for him.

Surrounded by a crowd of fans that never gave you a moment's peace, like satellites, you always stood out in the crowd. Everything in this tiny, cramped world revolved around you.

There was nothing in D-16 that could ever catch your attention, if only for a second.

And yet, he was happy. Never having seen the real beauty of the outside world, deprived of freedom since birth, at some point you always made him feel surrounded in a field of stars.

If it was safe on the surface of Cybertron again, he would surely spend cycles watching the vast sky dotted with colourful, bright lights.

‘It's not the right place for you to be,’ he would remind you every time he gets the chance of.

Away from Iacon, albeit rotten in the filth that was left behind by Sentinel the false Prime, he couldn't deny that there, you would be much safer.

Away from Iacon, you were lost. You never seemed to belong in the company of the former High Guard. Being silver spoon fed since the moment of your creation made you more naive and so painfully obvious to everyone around. It is a miracle, that there were still someone who looked after you, even though your silly little title doesn't mean here anything anymore.

He must have hated you, you would have thought. Unlike all those who joined the Decepticon resistance, everyone here was united in their hatred for the former reign of long-abandoned leader of the Iacon. Numerous attempts to hunt down, then exterminate every last one of them, only to hide the truth will forever be remembered by those whom Sentinel Prime deemed a threat to his rule.

In turn, what really united you with the idea of the Decepticons?

Did you feel as if you had been betrayed? Were born into this world only to exist meaninglessly in the depths of of your home planet, furnished for a slow, faithless death?

Something in Megatron's gaze drew you in. It was hard to tell if it was that bloodthirsty determination to free your city from the captivity of tyranny, or that look of despair and bitterness as the newly elected Prime banished him from his own city?

Either way, you followed him that day, much to the surprise of the Decepticon leader himself.

You glanced in Megatron's direction. Battered, like a wounded dog he was clenching his teeth and sitting on an equally time-worn throne. The silver frame was dotted with many scratches and dents, and the distinguished cannon still emitted a faint hint of smoke after being sliced in half.

The three members of the High Guard always stayed close by, but it seemed that no matter how hard they tried, their words always passed by Megatron's audials, that he didn't even have the slightest desire to cast his gaze at one of them.

“We can't waste time just because you're unable to move on from the last confrontation,” Starscream hissed demandingly, red optics fixed on the seated leader beside him. “We have a chance to mount a surprise attack until they secure their position in Iacon.”

The quiet scraping of metal against hard surface barely passes your optics. Fingers dig firmly into the armrests of the throne, at the mere talk about the recent defeat.

“Makes no sense. All focus should be on finding a suitable base for the Decepticons,’ Soundwave reminds, taking a single step forward towards the jet. Now, Starscream's gaze in Megatron's direction is blocked.

“So why haven't you started on this yet?” comes another, counter question. Stepping forward to meet the officer, the former leader of the guard gives his colleague only a sceptical, stern look.

“I'm working on it,” is the simple answer, not uncommon from the Decepticon's lips hidden behind the mask.

Starscream pinches himself on the bridge of his nose, closing his optics for a fleeting moment. This is what he gets after cycles of loyal service to the Primes. Total disobedience, and their new leader is hardly battle-hardened, spending twenty-four hours wasted in a pathetic attempt to soothe the yearning spark. To believe it, and this is the brat he lost to?

“Then get on it quick!” the red and white mech clucks his tongue, after which, casts a sharp glance in Megatron's direction. “If we can't keep fighting, what was the point of all this in the first place?”

Such an arrogant, son of a glitch. Doesn't know when it's the right time to shut up. That hit only deeper, after everything that happened for the past cycles. The constant whining and demands do nothing to ease his already troubled mind. He lost everything that day, the one and only time when he felt like everything. The bloody red optics darken at the words, and a soft growl escapes from him.

So, you step up.

“Soundwave is right, there will be another time for the attack, but now the top priority is to establish a base,” you raise your voice enough to catch all the decepticons around off guard. “Let our leader sort out his thoughts instead of pressing on him.”

Who could know you can speak up?

The confused sight you received from Starscream worth it in some way. If for all of Iacon you were an idol, loved by many, the old member of the high guard had no idea about you. The majority of the decepticons probably don't know either, you imagine, but does it really matter? The only look you only wanted, was from him.

An invisible, red string of fate always seemed to be tied around your wrist when it came to the unknown, small miner named D-16. After countless days of him following you around, it would be you looking out for him. How funny.

You smile.

Not a fighter, nor even build for any hard work. Your frame is neatly polished, shining pretty in the light. Even though at first of the decepticons glared and watched you with nothing but suspicion and hesitation at first, your bright charisma always let you have your way. Good on cameras, a valuable experience even at war. Somehow, you even made friends with them. You can even remember Slipstream and Thundercracker asking you about your daily polishing routine.

The same, dark red optics always trained on you. He should be glad, at least. Wasn't he concerned about your position in his new rankings? No matter how hard he tries to act so mighty and cruel, the big bad leader of the decepticons, Megatron, is still soft.

Still shy, you can add.

He's taller, stronger. If you easily towered over him, now the silver mech is the one looking down at you. It was odd, for some time. Your alt mode is build for speed, keeping you on the road and easily avoiding any obstacles that might get into the way. But with Megatronus' t-cog now, he's no longer that scrawny mech you were used to.

It must be so confusing to him, but so satisfying. It is no point in trying to hide it. With how tight his servos wrapped around your waist, holding you suffocatingly tight against his own frame. Like you'd run away or disappear if he let go. Funny enough, you'd do exactly the opposite of it.

The last bits of his own comfort in this Primus forgotten place. With you in his arms, he feels safe and loved, even though he doesn't understand what exactly this feeling means for him. He felt like that every time he was with Orion, playing that arcade game over and over, even as a miner, it was enough for him to be satisfied.

Megatron hides his face against your neck, closing his optics. Loved when he's with you. It was never this close until now. As D-16, all he had was glimpses of you on the big screen television, some rare, closed-door nights, when lucky.

He should be happy now, he thinks. No more hiding now, just you and him together. No more of this cursed society that stood in his way. Who would dare to oppose him at this moment? Tell him he has no chances of having you this close, however and whenever he wants it?

If only you just stood still and never moved an inch. He'd put you on the pedestal you deserve to be, so he could be the only one to be graced by your own appearance. A big, nice, glassy box will be good enough to cover you from the outside world, so maybe no Prime would even dare to lay their filthy hands on you.

Your servo gently laid on his back, moving in lazy, soothing circles. Both of you don't have to say a word; it was a comfortable silence between the two. After long, long and tiring days of work, he wants nothing but to rest next to you. Let himself fall in the long deserved recharge, so the constant, painful ache in his processor would be gone.

Such a peaceful sight for you. Having him this close, right in your arms. You would never dare to bother him at such a time. Even if his servos are fully covered in deep pink energon, wouldn't it be easy to just pretend not to notice it? If there's anything you're thankful for from your past career, it is the ability to turn blind optic when it's needed.

If you can't change him, you can definitely make him worse.

[hongjoongspoetry]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Every time I see you...chapter 1 ↰

...my throbbing heart rate spikes up

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

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

☆ Visuals ☆ 

M.list

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

Taglist: @spicxbnny @hongjoongspoetry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 >> next chapter

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[spiderfunkz]

RED MEANS I LOVE YOU

pairings. cho hyun-ju x gn!reader

cw. canon violence, blood, hurt to comfort.

author's note: the hyun-ju hype can't die down guys!! please send some requests but i'm begging atp for u guys to read this beforehand.

if you could describe what you were seeing for the past few days, it would be that your vision was tainted in red. no matter how much you itch, scratch, wipe, or scrub off— you're bloodied in loss.

it didn't look pretty either. the person you were before is just a mere reflection in the mirror, you wanted to get off whatever island you were on. it's torture, that's for sure, you couldn't even imagine how stupid you were for accepting the concept in the first place. it was too good to be true and you knew it— maybe you did, you're not sure anymore.

although, amongst all the wreck and violence, you were able to find one highlight of the entire experience. no, it wasn't the relief after surviving a round, and it wasn't lunch breaks either.

it was cho hyun-ju.

the tall woman who almost peered over you by a bit. she found you after the break of the first game, she seemed tense— almost afraid, at first, you wondered why she was. it doesn't matter though, she embraced you with open arms and soon a bond began to blossom.

lights out would be spent with whispers about your past and laughs about jokes that lingered far behind your mind. hyun-ju shared stories and tales about her life, your heart beats with empathy and also admiration. she was so brave, kind, intelligent, strong, and trust-worthy. you hope to get through this game with the chances of you two meeting each other again.

"where are you from, hyun-ju?" her own name sent shivers down her skin, you said it with such sincerity. "i'm from gwangmyeong, i've since moved out." her face has a slight smile to it, it seems a bit bitter, "hey, i'm near gwangmyeong! we were long, longggg neighbors!" everything you said seems to lighten her mood even more.

you brought a sense of comfort to hyun-ju, especially in a place like this. you don't know how much she really needed it. she didn't feel the usual gut-wrenching, almost stomach inducing pain she usually does when she's with someone.

though, right now, you could barely think about any of those without panicking or losing your sanity. the games took a twist, another one, if you will. player 456's or gi-hun's plan was clear enough for you to understand, it played off well at first, but now, you were scared out of your head for hyun-ju.

it was impressive to see her lead and teach the others, her combat knowledge seemed incredible, must've been the army. you watched her explain in the comfort of your bed, she didn't take any other answer when she insisted that you stay in the safety of the games dormitories. you couldn't argue with her, it was the last thing you wanted.

you didn't doubt her abilities. she is well-skilled, yet there was an aching knaw that something is wrong. you didn't want to lose her.

but when hyun-ju and the others left the room, you just sat and begged that she would come back un-injured and alive. the group of people near you were supportive, including some other allies you managed to make during the six-legged pentathlon and mingle. without them, you wouldn't be able to be where you are now.

though a small portion of you wished you were somewhere else, you know, preferably your home, but this time; there were no more unexpected knocks, no more piles of letters reminding you of your nail-biting ending (a.k.a getting evicted), and no more stress about the things you could've gotten done earlier in your life— if only you had your path straight then.

your thoughts were snapped when a fellow player went into the room in a state you knew too well. he looked afraid, he was repeating a sentence you couldn't seem to make out, however, soon it became clear what it was. people tried to approach him but you knew better, he needed to calm down and do his part, and their scolding will not help.

your heart wanted to ease down but couldn't when you saw hyun-ju ran in. she wasn't supposed to come back so quickly, it made you sigh— maybe from relief, maybe from dread.

but oh, did the amount of blood on her make you want to puke.

it's sickening, to be surrounded by it too. there are stains of people's death all around the place, you can't even sleep. you haven't been sleeping. not even hyun-ju's touch could bring you back to the slumber you've grown to miss so much.

you stood up from the bed, she was facing player 388, or dae-ho. he was the one who went in, the one who looked absolutely terrified. he was trembling.

she hugged the magazines he collected earlier and she was about to run off again. but her eyes met your glossy and almost tear-filled ones.

"don't go, hyun-ju."

"i have to."

"you're gonna get hurt. you have so much blood on your face, oh gosh," your hand held up near her cheek, it's a hesitant move, but she leans into the touch. you wipe as much as you could off, "don't go, hyun."

she looks back and took a moment to think before looking at you again, she takes a deep breath. "okay, okay. don't get teary-eyed," she smiles, "i'm here, i'll keep you safe."

"okay, then." you were inhaling and exhaling as steady as you could. it still came out shaky, you were almost hyperventilating. "let me, just wipe this off." your hands gently trace the marks on her face, wiping away all the impurities and worries off of her.

[everestgale]

ev you will not believe who i'm about to toss your way it's an actual curveball you will not see it coming in a million years

for the ask game can i ask for,, bro ken.....

Pareidolla asking about Broken? I would've never seen this coming! /lh /j

[Send Me a Character and I'll List Ask Game]

favorite thing about them

Perhaps I'm a little boring, but my favorite thing about Broken is just how much he changes in Paranoid!Apotheosis route, and how both Hero and Paranoid are actually able to get through to him, to help him see beyond his "perfect goddess". I talked about it a lot in Paranoid's character ask (platonic ParaBroken gives me so much life-), so I'll leave it here for anyone who wanted to read it in more detail <3

It's just... very sweet and encouraging to see someone who hit practically rock bottom in the prior chapter, someone who was so blindsighted and so sure of their inferiority... being able to believe in themselves with the right support system. ARGH, new Apotheosis still lives rent-free in my head ( T v T )

least favorite thing about them

I can't think of anything I dislike about Broken now... but I will use this question to confess that I used to be Broken hater- (not actually a hater, but he was my least favorite, and I was very open about that-)

LOOK, I'M SORRY!!! I was a fool, and I realized that even before the Pristine Cut dropped. I was too annoyed by how much of a wet noodle he was during the Tower that I ignored pretty much everything else about him for my first two months in the fandom 😭 But I'm a changed person now, and I have been since maybe March or April of last year, Broken my beloved, I'm sorry...

favorite line

"But... I love her."

"But it's not enough to stop us, is it? We're going to make it to her."

These two lines from Apotheosis absolutely destroyed my heart (in a good way) and made me squeal when I played through it for the first time.

"I think we are happy, actually. We might not be part of her. But being around her is almost the same. Almost."

"I'm going to stick around as long as you need me to."

brOTP

Besides ParaBroken that I already rambled about in great detail in Paranoid's post... I think I wanna say StubbornBroken, there is something sibling-like in their relationship that speaks to me, like an "ugh, great, I have to deal with you" lighthearted attitude that applies both ways, if that makes sense. Or if anything I said makes sense, really.

Personally, I like to imagine that in the post-ending scenario, the two of them have a strong friendship, with Stubborn helping Broken to not be as mopey as often, and with Broken helping Stubborn to slow down and not get himself excessively injured (especially since in my version of post-ending scenario, voices can actually die)... I also just think it would be funny if Stubborn self-appointed himself Broken's personal trainer, and Broken was having none of that /lh

OTP

I'm not sure if I have a solid OTP for Broken; I have a few ships I kind of like, but nothing that I go crazy over like ParaHero or Skeptunist. I really like CageBroken, there are some lovely lines that Broken says during that route, he is so considerate and gentle towards her:

"The poor thing... she thinks it's easier to be detached. But buried pain is still pain, whether she knows it or not."

"She's sacrificed a lot to get here. More than we did, I think."

I also like the idea of SmittenBroken, with both of them recovering from their unhealthy devotions to their respective Princesses... But I haven't really explored that idea too much yet (SmittenBroken shippers didn't get to me yet, but they likely will succeed if they do /lh)

Honorable mention goes to CheatedBroken because of a specific, interdimensional version of it that I really, really like :]

nOTP

Don't think I have any! The closest would probably be TowerBroken, but it's such an interesting exploration of an imbalanced / abusive relationship, with room for reconciliation (especially with new Apotheosis), that I can't put it as a nOTP.

random headcanon

I headcanon that my Broken has a mild case of chronic fatigue syndrome. I keep imagining him as a low-energy person, who generally prefers calmer and less energy-intensive activities, and so making this partially be a result of a physical condition made sense to me.

Disclaimer: I'm no medical professional, and I don't have CFS myself (at least I don't think so). I try my best to do research to write it accurately and respectfully, but if I make any mistakes in my portrayal of CFS with this HC, my sincerest apologies! You are always welcome to correct me in DMs or send me an ask about it <3

unpopular opinion

I'm not sure how unpopular of an opinion it is, but I very much subscribe to the idea that post-ending Broken was greatly affected by Paranoid!Apotheosis, and I write pretty much every scenario (that's not in-game canon) from that perspective. Am I being reductive in his character? Maybe, I can't tell, and I hope I'm not, but I really, really, really like Broken's start of recovery in Apotheosis, and I can't help but want to push that line of thinking with his character ( T v T )

song i associate with them

I love Anti Beat by DECO*27 as a weird mix / duet between Tower and Broken... so not 100% Broken song, but I'll include it here anyway:

"What part of me do you like?

If you tell me, I'll do anything for you

If I’m told “I love all of you, every single part”,

I’ll just be filled with hate

I absolutely detest the “me” that you love

Listen to this selfishness of mine!"

"All that you’ve done for me, all that you’ve given me, it has turned me into such a mess"

favorite picture of them

I genuinely love and adore how my unbroken Broken during the Wild turned out. I also love sharing the fact that Broken is supposed to be a very soft, fluffy bird (in terms of his plumage / feathers) because he is based on a dove species... but as a result of the game events, he lost about half of his feathers. Poor Broken :[

[softer-sunny]

Do You Ever Laugh?

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Word Count: 3,492

Summary: Echo can't get Crosshair to laugh at his jokes. Turns out you don’t need to be funny as long as someone’s ticklish.

Ao3 link: Do You Ever Laugh?

This is a tickle fic

Thank you @iamawolfstarsimp for requesting this ages ago! Sorry it took so long but I’m excited to finally have it done ☺️

Echo was convinced no one had ever made Crosshair laugh before. He certainly hadn’t. That was really starting to irritate him. It hadn’t been too long, just over a week with clone force 99, and things were going a lot better than he anticipated. Integrating into a new group was always going to have its challenges but clone force 99 was far easier to fit in with than he expected. Tech constantly tugged him along for projects he wanted Echo’s help with. Wrecker wanted his company on trips to get supplies. Even Hunter had started asking for his opinion on their plans, giving him freedom to suggest changes where he saw fit.

There was only one glaring problem.

Crosshair. He hadn’t been cruel, nor had he pushed Echo away. They were entirely amicable if not for some petty squabbles every now and again but that was to be expected. The beginning stages were coming together well enough but Echo still hadn’t gotten a good read on him. It wasn’t exactly easy to work with someone who never seemed to crack a smile, never even budged as far as Echo had been concerned. Crosshair was the king of thoughtful looks, head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing as he thought. There wasn’t much Echo could do to make Crosshair amused. Oh, but he tried. He certainly tried. Telling stories, making jokes, attempting to connect with him on a very baseline level. All of it had been met with a careful distance. Not malicious, just guarded. That’s exactly what was happening now as Echo tried to make nice with their sniper. Making nice meant several jokes that he thought were perfectly timed, worked well enough with what seemed to be clone force 99’s particular brand of humor, that would’ve landed with any of the rest of them. However, Crosshair hadn’t cracked a single smile. Hell, he’d barely raised his eyebrow when Echo said ‘I’ll give you a hand’ while holding out his scomp to take an extra supply bag from Crosshair.

Whatever.

Echo knew his puns were funny whether the sniper wanted to admit or not. The rest of the 99 were minding their own nearby, huffing a laugh every so often, or chiming in as they talked. Crosshair was fine sharing stories, humming as he listened, but nothing - absolutely nothing - was getting him to smile.

Was it so bad to want that?! Echo had always gotten at least begrudging amusement at his puns. Interest in his stories that ended with amused smiles. Connections that felt easy and fluid. Crosshair was tough to get to know but mainly because he kept himself under a lock and key, not yet ready to let Echo in. One a level he understood that but the part of him that wanted to get along with his new squad just kept poking at him.

Yet another joke hadn’t landed - this time one at his own expense seeing as Crosshair was always tempted to poke fun at him - and now Crosshair had moved on from feigning disinterest to giving Echo a very disappointed look, shaking his head like he’d never heard something so unfunny a day in his life. Echo glared back in response.

“Do you ever laugh?” Echo asked, trying not to sound like he was complaining. His voice, however, pitched up into something closer to a whine. Maybe pleading would get his point across.

“I don’t laugh.” The deadpan reply was coupled with an eerily detached expression that Echo was just grumpily sick of seeing. With a groan Echo ignored him, huffing and he dropped his chin in his palm. Ignoring him further when Crosshair’s eyebrow twitched smugly. At this point he knew this was just to irritate him. It was Crosshair’s brand. Find the thing you wanted then refuse to give it to you, brag about it when you finally gave in and bickered with him over it.

“That is inaccurate.” Tech’s voice drew Echo’s eyes upward. Tech was standing, datapad in hand, peering over it at Crosshair. Echo watched with interest as the sniper shrugged, still leaning against the wall as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Never laughed a day in my life.” Crosshair insisted. You have! You have, you bastard!

“He’s being ridiculous.” Hunter rolled his eyes as he joined the conversation, plopping down next to Echo on the bench. With a huff Echo slumped against Hunter’s shoulder, playing up his disappointment at not being funny enough for their dear old sniper. Hunter accepted his weight, adjusting so he could hold Echo up comfortably.

“Everyone laughs.” Echo reasoned, if not a bit grumbly. Hunter grinned at him in response, a sympathetic pat to his shoulder in solidarity. Crosshair was going to torture him on purpose and he was powerless to stop it.

“Not me.” Crosshair remained unphased, moving only to lean more casually against the wall, slumping now in a way that was done only to infuriate Echo further. Smug son of a bitch always flaunting that aloofness.

“Oh, yes he does!” Wrecker accused, glaring far more intently at his lankier brother. Said lankier brother seemed to actually react to that, body stiffening and eyes widening.

“No , I don’t.” Crosshair bit out. The two of them stared at each other, both of them in a standoff that Echo didn’t quite understand. He raised an eyebrow when Crosshair started to sweat, slowly pushing off of the wall to stand straight as if he’d have to run for his life at any minute. One look at the other two 99s proved he was the only one out of the loop.

“We’ll show you how about that?” Wrecker stood, cracking his knuckles, and that was interesting. Echo looked between them like he was about to watch a fight, and maybe he was. Crosshair was already trying to scoot away, hands held out in front of him to display some kind of call for mercy. Whatever was about to happen had all of the room’s interest and Crosshair seemed mighty reluctant to let it happen without a fight. Wrecker strode forward, the other man shrinking away with a shake of his head, a silent call to stop.

Wrecker didn’t accept that plea.

“Wait. Wait, no!” Crosshair pleaded as Wrecker grabbed his wrists and yanked.

Crosshair was knocked off of his feet in seconds, so fast Echo barely saw how Wrecker got him in the hold, squirming as he was trapped in a bear hug so tight Echo felt constricted. Wriggling, Crosshair’s feet kicked out as Wrecker manhandled him into position - one arm holding him snuggly while the other could irritate at will. At least, irritating is what Echo has expected Wrecker to do.

What he didn’t expect was the other hand to go straight to Crosshair’s side and squeeze - one, two, three times - while choked off noises were forced out of his throat. With another squeeze Wrecker latched on, somewhere near the bottom rib, and wiggled his fingers in as if he’d done this a million times. Well, he probably had, considering that move had those garbled noises turning into panicked laughter.

A smile finally - begrudgingly - split Crosshair’s face in half and Echo, delighted, couldn’t help but match that expression. After days of trying, days of hoping he could get that stubborn man to laugh just once he was getting everything he wanted in minutes with one very simple thing.

“See, told ya.” Wrecker called, brightness in his voice. His fingers moved to spidering up Crosshair’s ribs and that got him to jolt away, his hand desperately grasping at Wrecker’s wrist and pulling.

“Are you tickling him? Is Crosshair ticklish?!” Echo asked, trying not to sound so excited. He knew the answer, obviously, but he needed to get his disbelief out in the open. There was the man that plagued him on purpose, squirming and kicking and laughing while his limbs swung wildly in the air. Tickled! He was being tickled! Echo couldn't believe it.

He’d seen the 99 tease each other, poke at each other to irritate, but they hadn’t done this yet. This was entertaining for sure. All that bubbly playfulness started to grow in Echo’s chest. A familiar tingly feeling that he always got when a fight like this broke out among his old squads.

He hadn’t even realized he missed it until now.

“We often do and yes, he is. That seems obvious.” Tech interjected, much to Crosshair’s chagrin. He choked out a disgruntled ‘Tech!’ but couldn’t get much else out otherwise, falling back into nervous titters as Wrecker continued to dig into his side. Tech’s datapad was sat down out of the way now and he sidled up to the two of them as if studying a particularly wiggly specimen. Tech reached a hand out that Crosshair immediately tried to slap but Tech, good ol’ Tech, was faster. He gripped Crosshair’s wrist then dove his own fingers directly under Crosshair’s arm, fingers moving in a way that made Crosshair screech. Echo felt himself pull his own elbows to his sides, subconsciously hiding in Hunter’s shadow. Someone remind him never to get on Tech’s bad side.

“This is torture!” Crosshair complained before falling into breathy laughter once again. It almost looked like he was getting electrocuted, or a fish out of water, flopping about in the hold as if it would change anything. Wrecker’s hold was firm, unbreakable, and he was stuck whether he wanted to be or not.

“We were taught how to withstand torture you will be fine.” Tech added and Echo laughed in shock at Tech’s casual humor. Whether he meant to or not he always seemed to pinpoint the exact right thing to say.

“Imagine that. Big, tough, sulky Crossie being so sensitive.” Echo couldn’t help it. Teasing was natural, grinning when a glare - as heated as he could manage while laughing like a maniac - was aimed in his direction.

“Don’t call me that!” Crosshair bit out. His body flung to the side when Tech changed tactics. His hands found a spot right above Crosshair’s knee, squeezing quick little bursts into the area without breaking his careful concentration.

“What? You don’t like Crossie?” Hunter was teasing now, too, getting up from the bench to join the little group that seemed intent on making Crosshair a mushy little pile of goo. Without preamble Hunter started poking over his stomach which made his knees yank upwards to try and cover it. Crosshair’s head shook back and forth, a bubbling laughter accompanying each and every poke.

He nearly knocked Wrecker in the nose with his head when Hunter ran gentle fingers over the center of his stomach, dancing over the fabric of his shirt playfully.

Oh Echo could practically feel those tingles. Dancing across skin that was so vulnerable like that, held in the air without a way down. Echo could remember getting ganged up on like that. The dominos often played like this, finding a target and all attacking at once. Hell, even Rex and Cody had a tendency to take him down a notch if he was getting under their skin. Some very giggly wrestling matches were all it took to remind him of who really had the upper hand when sparring with his COs.

A particularly loud cackle got Echo’s mind to focus again, tuning back in to watch as Hunter kneaded at the spot on Crosshair’s lower belly. That must tickle like hell with the way he started thrashing.

“I can’t stop smiling.” Echo commented only to cover his mouth with his hand a second later to hide it. It was too easy to throw out remarks that made Crosshair’s ears burn more, embarrassment flaring under his skin. This was something Echo could get on board with.

“Just wait until we get to his neck.” Hunter’s casual threat hit right where he wanted it to as Crosshair’s eyes went nice and wide.

“Don’t you dare-” The scream that cut him off nearly knocked Echo off of the bench.

“Too late.” Wrecker’s fingers were there in an instant, wiggling gently into the soft skin under Crosshair’s ear. Now the man was red faced, giggling mad, squirming at every single touch no matter how gentle. Wrecker’s big grin matched the look on Echo’s face for sure, his eyes meeting Echo’s. “Don’t worry. He’s just being weird about laughing because you’re new.”

Discomfort flashed through Echo’s body in an instant. If that were true, that Crosshair only acted aloof because he didn’t know Echo well, then maybe this wasn’t as fun as he thought it was. It wasn’t fun if they were causing some kind of distress, although he hadn’t picked up on any just yet, that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Echo rubbed the back of his neck.

“He doesn’t have to endure this in front of me if he’s uncomfortable.” Echo’s voice came out quiet but he was clearly heard, Tech peering over his shoulder but stopping his fingers entirely. Hunter was next, sensing the change in tone and pausing. Even Wrecker stopped teasing at the skin on his neck. While it did seem reluctant they let Crosshair go, allowing him to get his feet back on the ground. He didn’t last long, knees giving out so he could drop onto the ground by their feet, breathing harsh puffs of air into his lungs.

Echo watched with worry, unsure if this was typical or not, as Hunter crouched down. Did they go overboard? He just wasn’t sure yet. Briefly, he thought about how it would feel if someone pushed him too far. Not listening when he clearly wanted it to end. That wasn’t what he wanted at all.

Hunter flattened his hand over Crosshair’s now messy hair, taming some of the strands that stuck up every which way. “What d’ya think, Cross? Newbie gave you an out.” Hunter asked, patiently waiting while Crosshair got his breathing under control. Would Crosshair just answer?

It took a few moments, his face turning back to a semi normal color the more time he spent free of their tickling fingers. Crosshair swallowed, cleared his throat, then finally looked up. An almost calm look was on his face now, the lines that showed his glare softening into something that made him appear younger than he was.

“If you think I’m admitting defeat you don’t know me at all.” Crosshair croaked out, much to Echo’s immediate amusement, biting the inside of his lips to keep a grin from immediately splitting his face. Damn, he could take a beating. Echo wasn’t sure he’d last that long if it were him.

“You asked for it.” Wrecker laughed, kneeling down just as Hunter’s hands found Crosshair’s rib cage, wiggling the tips of his fingers between them. All that fight was renewed now, squirming and laughing with all his might now that he could really move. It was funny to see them go back to attacking him now that he’d given a green light, not holding back.

Echo slipped from the bench to sit in front of them, perfect view of the gleeful expression on Crosshair’s face. All those hands attacked him without mercy, scribbling into crevices, poking into soft spots, squeezing along his thigh so his legs kicked out against the floor. Echo was mapping a perfect plan of attack for the next time they got this chance, committing it to memory so he could threaten and start a fight later on.

“You should try.” Tech said, eyes watching the way Echo’s fingers twitched. He had to admit that he was tempted to join but would it cross a line? They hadn’t been exactly chummy lately and Echo couldn’t afford to piss the grumpiest 99 off. “He will not be angry, if that’s why you are holding back.” Dammit, Tech, stop reading his damn thoughts! Echo sighed through his nose. Well, if Tech thought it was okay.

Scooting closer he tried to find an in, somewhere he already knew worked, somewhere not that intense. Crosshair was already wheezing, much more and he may just pass out. That wouldn’t be very fun. Hunter, actually, made the decision for him.

“Right here. We’ll let you do the honors.” He pointed to the crook of Crosshair’s neck, fingers barely touching skin but making him shiver regardless. Echo reached out, trying to mimic the way they had done it earlier. Crosshair flinched away from the finger tracing his skin, and Echo smiled to himself, pleased to be able to join in and get an immediate reaction.

“Real gentle.” Wrecker suggested, tugging on his own ear like it was a hint, a wink thrown in Echo’s direction. Echo hummed, fingers tracing upwards to the shell of Crosshair’s ear, hoping it was as much of a hint as he thought it was. It got an instantaneous squeak, scrunching up as he dissolved into gentle tittering. The rest of them slowly started to pull away, hands leaving with a last squeeze, one last scribble, one last poke, until it was just Echo. His gentle traces were well received - Echo noticed - still giggling but much softer now, arms wrapped around himself. He rolled around on the ground, scrunching every so often, but he always uncurled himself to allow more of those traces. Scratching his nails got a particularly loud laugh, curling so his back was to Echo. A stroke of genius made Echo scribble his fingers over the back of his neck, laughing when Crosshair immediately turned back over, head shaking to rid himself of the sensation.

He could imagine this would be a good way to coax laughter out of Crosshair in the future. Have him lay his head in Echo’s lap and trace gently over his neck and ears, hear him laugh in a way they rarely ever got to, leave him to recover then surprise him with a sneak attack when he was settling down again. Part of him knew Crosshair wouldn’t tug away but he left that to tease about on a later date.

While letting Crosshair go was necessary, it was with regret. Echo pulled away, finally removing all those sensations from the man now panting to get his lungs working properly again. Hunter sat cross-legged next to him, rubbing firm circles on his back as a soothing tactic. Echo made note of that too. Fine with being touched after if the touch didn’t tickle. Good to know.

“You’re all bastards and I will get revenge.” Crosshair croaked, eyes closed.

“I’m sure you will.” Hunter agreed, even if he rolled his eyes. It took a few minutes for Crosshair to recover, surrounded in his little cocoon of mean, cruel brothers who had clearly tickled him to death.

Tragic, mean, so horrible.

Damn, he’d missed this. These playful fights were a simple joy he hadn’t quite realized were something he had been craving. The simple connection, careful affection, gentle ways of irritating each other. It brought something brighter to Echo’s chest.

Eventually Crosshair peeked out at them, studying Echo’s face.

“What’re you staring at?” Crosshair complained, although he didn’t move from the hand petting him. He didn’t even sound cross for the most part, just curious. All that laughing had left him sounding less broody, even if it was still under all of that calm.

Echo shrugged, still fighting that smile that wouldn’t remove itself from his face. “Just plotting for the next time you piss me off.”

Light flickered in Crosshair’s eyes, something dangerously playful. “Oh, I’ll be plotting, too.” Now Crosshair was smiling for completely different reasons, evil flashing through his gaze. “You ticklish, Echo?” Just as Crosshair had earlier, Echo’s body tensed, flashing hot in a way that he knew would bring a blush to his cheeks. How were you even meant to answer that question? No answer was good. Yes only invited people to try it but No just meant they’d attempt to anyway. Regardless it was a question you were meant to be stuck between, no way to navigate it casually. Instead of answering Echo pressed his lips together, a move that still had Crosshair grinning menacingly at him.

When Crosshair pushed up off of the floor to sit up, Hunter’s hand falling away, Echo couldn’t help but flinch backwards, away from the possibility that he could be next. He heard Wrecker chuckle, an interested hum from Tech, and couldn’t shake Hunter’s knowing grin.

“I’ll get you next time.” There was a threat so clearly on Crosshair’s tongue but Echo ignored it, huffing instead as he wrapped his arms around his middle. Crosshair made note, clicking his tongue, but left him be.

He may have to be on the lookout for sneaky and underhanded payback but Echo couldn’t find it in himself to care. No, he had to plot his own rascally attacks. Maybe this was how they finally broke through that leftover wall. Playfully tearing down any space between them brick by ticklish brick.

[fakemagicjaye]

previously i was all nooo i can't draw liren wearing that people will think i'm some kind of pervert BUT I HAVE TO FOLLOW MY HEART u____u

[haru-chi]

Now that Miharu's arc is done and I gathered my thoughts and my strength, I feel like talking now for a bit ...

-contain manga spoilers-

Firstly, what the anime has done wasn't so bad at all, in fact I think they did the best they can without changing much which's I'm kinda surprised with for this season overall, it has the least changes out of all seasons so far (?), even the production value is far better than the last two season which was something I worried about tbh yet was pleased in general despite few little things 👀

With that being said and out of the way .. what come next isn't "hate" at all, so don't mistake it so :)

I found the anime version just lacking something .... it just didn't feel the same for some reason ... maybe the perfect word I find to describe what I feel is "detachment" ?

I don't know, was it because they simplify things which made things lose its gravity? Was it because they omit certain lines which had moved me the most in the manga ? Or was it that their interpretation of certain scenes was different than the manga vibe I got ? or they put emphasize on not what I thought they should've been ?

It's like, I felt Seiji/Miharu's burden, longing, wishes didn't hit that heavily ? Even Natori's inner struggle and action ... It's like I'm detached in certain way from their emotions which I don't even know if that's the perfect word to use but can't find a better word for what I felt ...

Hmmmmm, it's like, in the anime you feel like an outsider watching those people's story and struggles while in the manga you're an insider seeing all of this firsthand because of those little details etc thus you'd feel/understand it all better >>> don't know if this is a perfect example ><

I wondered if this was because they didn't do an extended hand before it, but as a manga reader this doesn't matter much for me so that's not it ...

But then I realized that this actually an on-going anime issue I always noticed and felt ... I even experience it firsthand being an anime-only way back then in the distant past ....

I feel the anime treat Natsuyuu's stories as standalone more than they should .. like aside from big arcs (mostly exorcist) then it doesn't matter what order everything else goes to ..maybe most fans think so too .. they don't realize that there IS a seamless story-flow under it all .. not all story follows it yet most stories can rely on it for building up be it on-going issues or questions and answers around it be it indirectly or directly (take an extended hand and Miharu's stories for example)

I was under this same misconception too back then, which's why when I jumped to the manga I was shocked by its depth and way of storytelling that genteelly indirectly connect most of its stories, which's why it resulted in Natsume's growth ...

His growth wasn't because of that certain story you just noticed it in it but was a result of the small ones before it which you thought was unrelated yet in fact it was a build-up and added depth to his character (maybe I'll talk in depth about it in different post?)

What I'm trying to say is, most story's order is important than some people think, and Midorikawa pay close attention to that and it's part of her storytelling and style which I really admire and love ... how there is an unspoken rule or something that put into attention few details or add more depth to the world/characters without directly saying so and that easily to miss ....

Do you remember how Homura's arc was something she wanted to do from early on yet because Natsume wasn't ready so she withhold for a very long time ... or how she didn't reveal Seiji had a sister before revealing that Taki had a brother (Seiji's sister arc was the next vol from Taki's brother reveal if no one noticed btw which's something I love and always wanted to mention and talk about)

That's why I said the anime treat Natsuyuu's stories as standalone more than they should and alot of things can gets lost ....

Miharu's arc didn't happen until an extended hand story happened before it .... and those stories are too important to each other ...but since I talked about this in a different post, I won't go about why that is here...

But this anime mindset results in Miharu going first which even after watching it I still find it a weird decision since there was room to do an extend hand then finish the season with Miharu's arc ....

I'm here thinking how such a simple thing can change your perception of things greatly or how can omitting or putting emphases on certain thing can change your view of them... I find that interesting but in the end that's why because of this the anime can never reach that same depth, that same unspoken indirect beauty ....

I really wonder why ? I feel like they had an idea or certain view about Natsuyuu which isn't wrong per say but can be harmful or a hindrance in the long run ?

Miharu's arc in the anime had me just setting here thinking and trying to understand why I find it lacking or feel this detachment and absent of gravity or weight from it that I felt in the manga ....

I'll stop here, it just I don't get it and kinda feel disappointed ? Sad ? Tbh I really don't know what I should be feeling other than I wanted something more for one of my best arc, it wasn't the worst yet wasn't that great either :)

[the-busy-ghost]

"Oh it would have been more satisfying if the humans had invented a technology which defeated the Martians rather than have them killed off by accident just when humanity's impotence in the face of disaster seems to be confirmed". I

To me that's just a fancy way of saying "Yeah but humans could totally handle the Martians and the writer has a duty to reassure the audience of that!"

Sir we cannot even handle climate change and I'm sorry to tell you that it's not entirely due to a lack of technological expertise

[theokusgallery]

Since you have a lot of opinions about Sunflower fics, do you have any recommendations :p? I do generally agree with you about the derth of good works on them - kind of hoping for something I've maybe slept on.

Okay, I'll try,

First of all — I want everyone, and I mean everyone to read Coda for a Crestfallen Caitiff by MercuriallyApathetic, who also wrote The Strange Summer of Sunny Whatshisface (still one of my favorite longfics to this day but a lot more lighthearted). Coda is a masterpiece, it makes me insane, it is criminally underrated, I want to inhale its essence, and when I first read it it gave me a panic attack and a mental breakdown that lasted three straight days (/pos). Definitely read the tags and prepare yourself mentally but JESUS CHRIST I need everyone to read it. Please. You will regret it for a few hours but it is... an experience. To me at least. And to the two people I recommended it to who gave me feedback.

Then there's sunflower seeds in the rearview mirror by @andrewwtca which remains probably my favorite multichapter OMORI fic of all time (you might spot my essay-comments in the later chapters, I love this fic so much. I didn't end up writing one for the last chapter but man did it hit me hard). Very intriguing with a captivating style and an unreliable narrator mechanic that I am absolutely in love with. Everything by that author is excellent.

We have, of course, literally everything by BetweenDisorders. Arsenic is partly inspired by one of their fics ! (you know the one.) Their characterization of both Sunny and Basil (but especially Basil, because I'm gay) makes me froth at the mouth. Their style is very recognizable and honestly one of the best I've ever seen. But more generally, they have really original and intriguing ideas (like communication, in which Basil and Sunny are two computers... Did I mention how I'm a sucker for original/unique plots and premises enough yet) and everything they do is something you've never seen before. It's amazing.

Note to Self: Don't Be Gay in Faraway Town by witheredahlia is also very, very good. It's a lot lighter, but it still made my gay little heart ache, because I'm a sucker for misunderstandings done correctly (fight me).

Detective Sunny by Det_Sun is genuinely one of the most creative, fascinating OMORI fics I've seen, and also way too underrated. It's an excellent read, and there's a bunch of ideas in it that you know go deeper than what is shown, and it makes my brain go at the speed of light. Many many thoughts about this one. (Side note: I fucking love it when there's unexplored ideas in fics. Makes my brain go brrr. Not everything has to be shown and when I see hints of "behind the scene" thoughts and character background that isn't discussed much but still implied, my brain becomes a feral animal. I don't know if that makes sense...)

[lesbiansanemi]

I'm so tired

[sskk-manifesto]

What a good episode. Maaaaaan

[shidoukanae]

*rereads Paris and Helene's second meeting for the nth time*

me every goddamn time: THEY HAVE SO MUCH CHEMISTRY HOW THE FUCK DO THEY HAVE THIS MUCH CHEMISTRY

It's so so so SO fun watching this entire meeting and how they both seem to constantly be in a little dance of sorts wherein Paris openly declares his interest in her and Helene keeps shutting him down ("You should come to Kylon. We won't overwork you the way your family does" -> "I don't have time to indulge in a life with people who don't think" -> "well that's good because i think about you so much i can't sleep"-> "and? get to the point already". like jfc he's not fucking vague about this At All).

But the best part is, for offstandish and disinterested as Helene is towards Paris (with her words cold and blunt towards him), it's really hard to deny that there isn't some interest on her part without there really being interest on her part (which is. confusing i know but. in context. oh. my god. she's a queerplatonic icon around Paris and i adore her for it)

My favorite thing to see in this scene is the way Paris reaches for Helene's face, casually brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek and through her hair (while commenting on how being this close to her makes his instincts spike with unease), and the moment Helene downs him she does the same exact gesture to him, lifting up his chin and brushing the back of her fingers against his face similarly. Which. Wow. I need more female antagonists to do this shit it is literally so cool to see.

Also the way Helene and Paris constantly are gauging each other is so neat. The way Helene tells Paris to "not long for what he can't have" (i.e. herself) is so neat. The way Paris is clear about his interest in Helene and she in turn matches that interest by toying with him in a way she's done with no one else in the cast is just. there is sooooo much there between them and i greatly enjoy whatever the fuck kind of chemistry it is they share because it is literally the epitome of what i crave in ships

[alo-officialgf]

it's a personal choice to have three alo drafts and none of them written yet 🫨

[xinganhao]

🫶 svt reacts to you saying 'i love you' on accident.

★ prompt: Ot13 reaction to you saying I love you for the first time (possibly kind of by accident) 🥰 c/o anon

��� friends to lovers vibes, flirting, pet names. headcanons under the cut.

🫶 read more?

seungcheol tries to take it in stride. really, he does. he's convinced he can be very normal about this, even though it will probably have him preening the whole day. he's always thrived most on words of affirmation, and what's more affirming than the truth?

jeonghan's joking, of course. he knows deep down that your little slip doesn't immediately entail a relationship, but he's definitely intent on going out swinging. the light teasing is an attempt to get you to think about a time where you can freely say 'i love you' to him every day.

there's a fair amount of sincerity in joshua's reaction. his first thought is to make sure that you're okay with it, since he has some idea that you've probably tripped on the words. but give him that leeway and he'll take it in a heartbeat. you've started saying it; he'll never let you hear the end of it.

if junhui manages to feign nonchalance, it's because of his acting prowess. he's smug and giddy, though he's not about to let you know that. he's the type to pull the rug underneath you a couple of days later, right when you've probably forgotten it. "so…" he'll drawl. "how much do you love me, hm?"

to no one's surprise, soonyoung is decisively not chill about it. this is A Big Deal to him! an 'i love you'? something he's wanted to hear for ages? he needs to make sure he's not dreaming. there's the dopiest smile on his face, because you love him. it's the best thing he's heard.

wonwoo's hands are shaking. his throat is suddenly dry, and he's relatively sure his brain has short-circuited. it's— just an offhand thing. at least that's what he tries to convince himself. the reality: he's going to be replaying the words in his head for weeks on end.

it doesn't strike jihoon immediately. maybe it hits him once you're gone; maybe it occurs to him when the moment has already passed. one thing's for sure: he's not going to let it go unanswered. he's a little late, not on time, but that doesn't mean he doesn't mean it. you know that, right?

the words make something bloom and blossom in seokmin's chest. they take root like a promise, and even though he tries not to get ahead of itself, it's hard. he's so, so happy to hear it from you that he'll be walking on clouds for the days to come.

mingyu doesn't hate you. that much is certain. he just hates the power you have over him— how you can upend his entire day with a couple of choice words. he had thought he'd be stronger than this, but here he is. panicking because of 'ily'? god, he can't afford to be in shambles like this.

ever the rational type, minghao will be the type to press, "how do you love me?" he can't afford any missteps, needs to know you're on the same page. if you love him as a friend, then so be it. but if there's a prospect for anything more, even just a minute worth of it… well. he would like to know.

joking about it is a coping mechanism. that's something seungkwan subscribes to, at the very least. it gives him time to gather his wits, this whole keeping-up-a-facade thing. (ask anyone: he had been smiling a little too hard at his phone when your text came in. the eyes never lie.)

rarely is vernon thrown off his game like this. he's not supposed to be melting over a flippant 'ily', and yet here he is— trying (and failing) to be cool about your slip-up. can you blame him? he's wanted you for so long, and the words can be as good as a promise if he really wanted them to be.

you're not playing fair. chan has half a mind to make you suffer, to not give you the satisfaction of a reaction. alas, he's always had a soft spot for you. that extends to unquestioning forgiveness, and reciprocity where it matters. yes, even in accidental confessions.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[thecherrygod]

Hm

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.