#you know. normal things to do over the weekend

[softspokendove]

It was me

pairings: bsf!matt sturniolo x female!reader

summary: after your one night stand with ghost face, you can’t seem to forget that night. you confide in your best friend about your experience and how it’s been driving you crazy, all for you to find out he was the mystery man.

warnings: SMUT (who would’ve thought), knife play, slapping, p in v unprotected, degrading, rough kinda, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc), name calling (slut, whore, etc), biting, multiple orgasms, crazy matt kinda, fingering, little blowjob f!receiving.

Important note: this is a part two, part one is posted before this one it’s called “ghostface matt”. I do recommend reading that one before this one since it has important “plot”. I’m sorry I don’t know how to link it :(

“Are you listening to me?”

you try to rack your brain for anything that Matt has said to you in the past 10 minutes but nothing comes to mind. You’ve been too busy inside your own head replaying previous events of the party last weekend. The more you think about it, the more you can feel his hands back on you again making you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together on Matt’s bed.

You look at Matt and he has an agitated look on his face. He’s been ranting to you for the past 20 minutes trying to get your opinion on the new video idea his brothers have, he doesn’t think they should do it and he wants you to back him up on it.

You quickly nod your head trying to be convincing, “yes I’m listening.”

Matt raises his eyebrows challenging you while he crosses his arms, “okay then what did I just say?”

You don’t even think before answering, “you asked if I was listening.” A sarcastic smile written all over your face.

“Very funny.” Matt blows air out of his mouth and walks over to sit beside you. His back now rested against the headboard, you sitting criss cross while facing him. “So what’s got you in a pickle?”

You snicker a bit at his choice of words, “a pickle?” He just shrugs, not a hint of humor shown on his face. You can tell by the look he’s giving you that he expects you to answer him truthfully. You feel your face grow a tad bit warmer as you think back to what you were previously day dreaming about.

You’ve told Matt before about your past sexual experiences and he’s told you his, it was a normal thing that was brought up time to time. But this time it was different. It felt different. You truly felt like that was your best sexual experience of your life and saying it out loud to your best friend didn’t sound appealing.

“I was just thinking about the party last weekend.” It’s not a lie, more like a half truth. You could be okay with that.

“Oh? What about it?” You feel your stomach twist and try to think of something to say other than the truth. You see a small glint appear in his eyes as he adjusts himself, getting more comfy.

“Nothing. It was just fun.” You copy Matt’s movements and adjust yourself a bit too, trying to look unsuspicious. But Matt can see right through you.

He squints his eyes and tilts his head, “c’mon it’s me, you can tell me anything.” You appreciate his words but it doesn’t help with the racing of your heart or the small patch of heat beginning to pool lower and lower. You don’t trust yourself to answer him, to concerned that your voice might wobble, instead you just lower your head and stare at your lap.

Matt knows this move all too well. When you’re too embarrassed or shy to answer someone you avoid any and all eye contact. “What did something happen?” You feel bad ignoring him so you shrug your shoulders as a response. A few more seconds go by, “Did you sleep with somebody?” Matt sees you visibly stiffen and he lets a small smile slip.

He finds it adorable how open you usually are about your sex life, but you can’t stop getting flustered everytime he’s asked you about the party. He’s been prying at you all week to get your side on what happened. To his luck all he got was you either avoiding his questions or changing the topic. He’s not letting you slip away this time.

“What is that it?” You slowly pull your head up your eyes finally meeting Matt’s deep blue ones. A small ‘yeah’ escapes your mouth. “Was it that bad?”

You shake your head, “no it was good.”

Matt’s small smile grows, “How good?”

Your eyes widen in surprise at his constant pestering questions. He’s not usually this interested in sex. “Really good. Like the best I’ve ever had.” You mumble the last bit but Matt heard you perfectly. Matt feels his heart swell up in pride. He made you feel so good, more than any other man has. He knew you were made for him and this is just more proof.

“Soo do you know who the guy is?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at Matt’s question. How’d he know there was a mystery guy. For all he should know is that you just had a one night stand. He couldn’t know that even you didn’t know who it was.

Unless.

Unless he was there. Or someone told him. Like the mystery man himself. No, if you knew who was under the ghost face mask you would’ve known right? I mean you must have felt that you knew the person. But then again you carelessly let that man use you practically, it’d be worse if you didn’t know him and let a stranger do that. Right?

Matt can almost see the wheels turning in your head. Your eyes are rapidly looking all around his face as your poor little brain tries to figure out how he knew. To be honest he wasn’t going to tell you. He wanted to see if he could run into you again as ghost face and see how’d you react.

He loved it. He loved seeing your pretty face all flustered and in bliss as his cock worked your wet pussy. He came home and jerked himself off before bed, replaying the whole scene again so it was fresh in his mind. He’s had so many boners this week alone. Every time he’d cum it’d be to you, your name effortlessly rolling off his tongue. He’s had to stay in his room for most the week so his brothers can’t see the state that he’s in.

He’s addicted and it’s bad.

All he wants is you. All he can think about is you. When you walked into his room earlier for your usual movie night all he wanted to do was practically pounce on you. To kiss you, feel you, hear your beautiful moans again. He can’t stop himself.

So is he upset that the mystery man won’t be much of a mystery to you anymore? A little. Is his cock straining so hard against his pajama pants that it feels like he might explode? Yes. And that is all he needs for him to lose track of his other plan and just let you figure it out.

“How’d you know I didn’t know who it was?” Matt’s whole demeanor has changed now. His legs are spread more apart. His pupils are dark and blown. His hair is sitting messily on his head. One hand is rested on his thigh while the other one fiddles with his pajama pants string. He just gives you a one shoulder shrug, trying to let you do all the work.

“Matt how did you know?” This time you sit up on your knees and give Matt the most serious face you can manage while you’re freaking out on the inside.

He doesn’t answer. Of course not. He knew he had to give you something to lead you to the right idea. But what would be the fun in saying it? No he’d show you. See that pretty shocked face again.

Matt ignores you and instead gets up walking over to his closet. He bends down to pick something up and then walks to the bathroom, careful not to show you what he has in his hands.

What is wrong with him? He’s been acting strange all week and this is just the cherry on top. You get up and stomp over to the bathroom door. “Matt!” You go to raise your hand up and knock on the door, right then Matt whips open the door.

Matt smirks as he sees your face, your eyes wide and mouth open ajar as your eyes take him in. He’s wearing the same pj pants as before but his sweater is now gone leaving him shirtless, his arm covered in tattoos on full display. As your eyes go up you feel your oxygen get knocked out of your lungs and your legs feel wobbly.

He’s wearing the mask. The same one from the party.

It couldn’t have been him. No it can’t. He was at home that day, he didn’t want to go. Besides he’s your best friend he wouldn’t want to sleep with you.

You want to believe that you truly do, until your eyes land on an object in Matt’s hand. A knife. The exact same knife from the party. That can’t be a coincidence. Oh my god you fucked your best friend.

“Wh-Matt? It was you at the party?”

“Surprise.” His voice isn’t his anymore. It’s the same voice from all the movies and the same voice you let turn you on while having sex with him. His hands are now those same hands that you can’t stop thinking about. His cock is now the same one you’ve been needing back inside of you.

This is wrong. You slept with your best friend and you loved every second of it. You’ve been day dreaming about getting another chance with that guy and now you finally have it.

As you begin to put two and two together you clench your thighs together, you can already feel your slick sticking to your folds. Matt notices this and starts stalking towards you. This makes you back up, not yet sure if you should be doing this. This all stops when the back of your knees hit his bed, leaving you pinned between them two.

“Don’t you want it? I know I do.” Your stomach churns at Matt saying the same thing you said to him last time, giving one last confirmation that this is the man. He doesn’t let you answer, instead he pushes you backwards, letting you softly hit his bed. His fingers slip past your waistband and pull your shorts down. A dark spot on your panties giving him all the confirmation he needs to continue.

He backs away from you, walking towards the door, shutting and locking it. Now it’s just you and him, and he’s never letting you go. You’re his. He’ll show you that.

“Did you miss me?” Matt tilts his head to the side and slowly walks back over to you, admiring how puzzled and adorable your face still looks. He runs a hand down your cheek before giving it a light slap, not enough to hurt you but enough to regain your attention. “I said did you miss me?”

You feel another wave of wetness at the familiar dominance from the man above you. You want nothing but to feel his hands back on you. To cum on his cock again. To be able to scream his name now that you know he’s your best friend. You give in and nod your head, “yes Matt.”

Matt groans at the sound of your whiny voice saying his name. God he’s waited so long to hear that. He quickly lifts up his mask and doesn’t waste anytime before connecting his lips to yours. Your lips are so soft and taste so good. His hand is still rested against your cheek as his other hand runs the knife down your body. Goosebumps erupt from all across your skin as you feel a shiver run down your back.

Matt is relentless with attacking your mouth. You start needing oxygen and go to open your mouth. He feels you open your mouth slightly and he takes it as an opportunity to slide in his tongue. His grip tightens on your face and he forces you to tilt your head to give him better access. You both moan at the new feeling of your tongues sliding against one another. The sensation was short lived as you both pull away gasping for air.

Matt starts attacking your neck, kissing all over your soft skin. He then starts sucking and biting, leaving marks all over. As he gets lower he gets cut off by your shirt, grunting he pulls away to slip it off of you and then continues. He reaches your tits and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, moving his tongue in a circular motion as he sucks.

You arch your back into his mouth and let out a moan. Matt can’t help but smile against your nipple at the noise, something he’s been longing to hear again. He lets go of the nipple with a pop and moves on to the other one, giving the same attention to it.

You begin to grow needier and the lust filled pit in your stomach isn’t doing much to help. You start squirming under the man and let out a pathetic whine, “Matt.”

He lets go of your tits and moves lower, his kisses getting lower and lower to where you desperately need him. He moves two of his fingers against your drenched panties, the slight pressure on your pussy causing you to gasp.

“Always so wet for me.” He moves your panties to the side and lets his fingers finally come in contact with your cunt. He gathers up some of your slick before inserting a finger into you. You moan at the sudden intrusion and let your head fall back against the bed, enjoying your best friend playing with you.

Matt feels his cock twitch at how tight you are. You’re perfectly sprawled out for him, your legs open wide to give him all the room he needs. He can see how beautiful you are when you’re so open like this. Can see your cunt clinging to his finger and sucking him back in as he motions his finger in and out. He leans down and applies a light kiss to your clit. This makes your head start to spin.

Matt wants nothing more than to insert his tongue inside of you and suck on that pretty little clit, but with seeing you subconsciously start rocking your hips to his movement he knows your not gonna last very long. That’s okay he’ll make you ride him later as a midnight snack.

He can feel your pussy start to relax a bit more against him so he inserts another figure. This time he curls them, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you let out a high pitched moan.

“Shh baby, I wanna hear you, but you have to be quiet. Don’t want anyone hearing how much of a slut you are do you?”

Without thinking you let out a no and continue to rock your hips. Your movements are on key to his, letting him hit deep inside you with the tip of his digits. You bite your lip to hold in your moans at the intense feeling.

Matt kisses your inner left thigh, opening his mouth and biting down on your flesh. You squeal at the surprising pain. The pain of the bite and the pleasure of his fingers leads you to reach closer and closer to your peak.

Matt kisses the bite mark, soothing the pain. He feels your juices drip down his hand and onto the floor. He knows you’re close when he feels your walls start pulsating against him. He licks strips up and down your clit pulling you closer and closer to the brink.

“Look at me.” You’re too much in a mind fog to listen to him. All you can think about is how good he’s making you feel and how you really wanna cum. A gasp soon escapes past your lips at the feeling of a slap coming down onto your right thigh.

“I said look at me. I wanna see my pretty girls face when she cums.” You reluctantly lift your head up and meet his masked face. His mask is still covering his top face as he works on your cunt. You notice his knife is nowhere to be seen as his empty hand soothes your skin.

The pressure gets more intense as his motions continue. You let out small moans as your come close to your brink. All that keeps repeating in your head is Matt. His fingers inside of you. His tongue working hard on your clit. Your best friend making you feel the best you’ve ever felt.

Your hand reaches down towards his empty one and intertwines itself with his. You grip his hand tightly trying to ground yourself as you finally snap. The pressure soon turned into absolute bliss. Your cum soaking his hand. Loud moans leaving your mouth.

Matt can’t even be mad at you disobeying him. You looked so good while cumming. Your walls wrapped tightly around his digits as your juices seek out around them. He slowly slides his fingers out of you causing you to whimper in protest, he takes them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around his digits and groaning at the taste of you. “God you always taste so good.”

You feel yourself getting wet again at the view of Matt sucking his fingers moaning in delight at how good you taste. You buck your hips up towards Matt's hand wanting more, "please Matt."

"Always so needy baby." He avoids meeting your hips and instead stands up, sliding down his pajama pants and his boxers follow suite. His cock springs free making him sigh in relief. The veins of his cock are throbbing as his cock twitches staring at you. The reality finally hits him that he's about to have sex with you, his best friend. He can't believe it, but he also loves it.

"Turn around for me." You obey him and turn around now on your hands and knees. You feel the bed dip behind you and Matt puts his body against yours. He puts his hand on your lower back and pushes, forcing your upper body to lay flat against the bed, leaving your ass sticking up in the air ready for his cock.

Matt takes his cock and plays with your pussy teasing you. He slides himself repeatedly through your folds hitting your sensitive clit causing you to jump. He pulls you back towards him and slaps your ass, "stay still." He adjusts his cock to your entrance and slowly pushes himself in making you whine, "ah fuck."

He shoves in his full length making you feel so full again. Your walls spasm around his cock getting used to his size. Matt lets out a few groans, "You're so tight sweetheart." He starts to slowly slide out, almost removing his whole cock from your sobbing tight cunt, then he roughly slams himself back in. The tip of his dick hitting your cervix causing you to accidentally let out a loud moan, this earns you another harsh smack to your ass cheek. "Be quiet."

Matt starts pulling his hips back then roughly slamming them back in continuously, his pace slow but hard. The slow drag of dick having a big effect on you. You feel so good, all you can think about is Matt's cock. You grab a fistful of the bed sheets and tighten your hold on it as Matt keeps thrusting into you.

His bed starts to move and hit the wall along with his thrusts, causing him to groan in frustration. His hands grip your hips tightly, almost leaving marks as he pushes and pulls your body to match his pace. Basically using you as if you were a toy. You get caught up in the bliss of his cock that you let out a few small moan, still holding back the big ones.

Your cunt starts to leak out more liquid, it mixes with Matt's movements causing the room to get filled with the wet noises of you. This pushes Matt further, the fact that you get so turned on for him and only him. Only he can make you feel this good. He is the only one that can see and touch you like this, he'll make sure of it.

He increases his pace making you have a harder time of concealing your loud noises. Matt grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind your back, holding them with one hand. He then pulls on those which forces you backwards, your back against his chest.

"I thought I told you to be quiet? Guess I'll just have to do it myself." His other hand that's on your hip moves and cups around your mouth. Your moans now getting muffled. Knowing that noise isn't much of a problem anymore, Matt increases the pace even more. The pressure in your lower stomach now returns as you practically scream into his hand.

Matt's hips constantly rutting into yours, his cock smoothly sliding in and out of you thanks to how wet you are for him. He feels your walls start to slowly clamp down around him, signaling that your getting close. "You gonna cum?" You moan back as an answer and nod your head. Matt feels himself getting closer as well, his cock gives a small twitch here and there while inside of you. He tilts his hips at a certain angle to hit just the right spot, making you scream into his palm.

"Cum around my cock. Show me how much of a whore you are for me and maybe I'll cum inside of you." Your eyes roll back inside your head at his words. You move your hips on your own accord and meet with his. You hear Matt's moans and grunts as his mouth is beside your ear. You roll your head backwards against Matt's shoulder, which he takes advantage of and bites down on your exposed neck trying to muffle his noises as he reaches his peak.

You let out a squeal at the bliss of the pain mixing with the pleasure of your best friend's dick forcing you over the edge. The pressure once again snapping and your cunt pulsating as you squirt all over Matt and his bed.

Matt realizing that he just made you squirt sends him over the brink, he lets go of your neck and groans out your name, his cum shooting out of his tip and inside of you. You whimper at finally feeling his cum fill and warm you up.

Matt lets you go to which you collapse onto the bed and sigh out in exhaustion. He watches as his cum and your cum slowly seep of your cunt. His cock twitching again at the sight, wanting more of you. He pushes it down and goes to put his boxers back on. He unlocks the door disappearing into the hallway and returns without the mask but with a wash rag to clean up the mess.

You hiss at the sensitivity which Matt apologizes for. He puts the rag on the floor to soak up that liquid, making a mental note to change his bed sheets later. He climbs into bed beside you and reaches over, pulling your body onto his. You feel yourself start to fall asleep as he plays with your hair. Before you fall into the darkness of sleep you hear Matt one last time, "You are mine."

a/n: sorry this took so long for me to post, I've been busy with work and I've been HORRIBLY sick. Hopefully I'll start posting more now and I hope you enjoyed!

tags: @hesvoid34 @sturnl0ve @princesspeachthefroggy @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut

[scatorccioswifts]

🐈‍⬛ CAITVI HEADCANONS ༄

— hi ok so caitvi headcanons yay who cheered but it’s modern so they have like phones and stuff ok.

vi’s favourite meal is beans on toast one time cait asked if she wanted it for a quick breakfast and vi said yeah because she was too tired to listen, cait made it for her and now vi just makes herself it as a snack. like she just walks around with beans around her mouth

vi will send caitlyn those ai cat dancing videos and be like “omg this one looks like you” and it’s literally some random tabby cat. caitlyn will be on the job & get a text from vi thinking it’s urgent and it’s just the billie eilish meowing audio and a homeless ai cat like “me when you leave me for work.”

vi writes caitlyn notes in the condensation on the mirror when she goes in the shower and caitlyn always complains that they’re leaving marks forever but she actually loves them

vi wants a dog but caitlyn wants a cat and they can’t decide so they just get like a guinea pig

they go swimming and caitlyn used to do it a lot as a kid so she’s like got neat strokes and can do it perfectly but vi just used to swim to get away so she dgaf about her technique she’s just racing ahead

sometimes caitlyn uses vi’s clothes as pyjamas and vi complains that they’re her “good clothes” but she likes it because she thinks caitlyn looks adorable

caitlyn washed vi’s hair everyday after the fight ended to try and get the black dye out, but never asked vi if she wanted her to cut her hair for her because she liked it longer

on weekends caitlyn would come out of her office and not be able to find vi, then walk into the bedroom and just see a blanket fort but she won’t even question it because she knows vi and jinx are in there

vi will buy caitlyn ice cream just so she can feed it her off the spoon

whenever caitlyn reads in bed, vi will lean over her shoulder and pretend to read it too but she’s just watching caitlyn read it because she thinks she’s beautiful when she’s focused. caitlyn thinks vi’s reading it so she waits longer to turn the page incase vi isn’t done reading

vi will still go around doing parkour instead of just walking the streets like a normal person and sometimes hurt herself, then come home whining as if it wasn’t her fault and caitlyn will patch her cuts for her. vi can do it herself but she likes it when caitlyn does it

caitlyns hands are always cold, vi’s are always warm

when they start living together, caitlyn realises that vi actually cried a lot more than she thought, sometimes over her parents or vander or literally just anything that’s ever happened in her life.. so caitlyn will give her about five minutes to get it all out then climb into bed with her and comfort her, but isn’t like “come on stop crying” because she thinks crying is a good outlet

vi is a very cuddly person so whenever caitlyns cooking or leaning against the counter on the phone or something vi will go up behind cait and hug her , and caitlyn never pushes her off

caitlyn loves giving vi kisses on her forehead or nose or hand and things like that because vi mentioned finding them cute so caitlyn does it all the time

caitlyn gets flustered easily when vi says out of pocket things.. like without a filter if they’re with ekko or someone vi will make dirty jokes and caitlyn will softly pinch her as in stop

[woso-story]

A Shoulder To Lean On

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Alexia Putellas stood in the empty locker room, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights her only company. The echo of her coach’s words still lingered in her mind. “You won’t be making the squad for the game this weekend, Alexia.”

She had expected it. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t ready. Her knee still felt like a ticking time bomb. It wasn’t just the physical pain anymore; it was the mental battle. Every time she planted her foot, her mind flashed back to the moment of injury, the sharp sting, the helplessness. She had worked her entire life for this—everything had been for this moment. But now, standing here, she couldn’t shake the feeling of doubt. The pressure was suffocating.

It wasn’t just about the injury. It was everything. Two Ballon D’Ors, countless trophies with Barcelona, but it never felt like enough. People expected more. She was expected to be the same Alexia she had always been: the unstoppable force, the leader. But in this moment, she was just a woman with a broken knee and a heart full of worry.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. "You’re meant for greatness, Alexia." But her father had never seen her play for Barcelona’s first team. He passed away just two months before her dream came true.

“Everything for him,” she whispered under her breath as she slowly gathered her things.

It wasn’t the game that bothered her, or the squad decision, it was the thought that she might not be able to get back to the level she had once been. That she might not be able to play again. The thought gnawed at her, every day, every moment.

But then there was you.

You, the one person who had been there through it all. The quiet strength beside her, the calm amid the storm. You had been together for over two years, and you weren't involved in football at all. It was a relief. After hours on the pitch, in front of cameras, after facing the demands of the Spanish Football Federation, you were a reminder of something normal, something simple.

Alexia walked into your shared apartment, the familiar scent of lavender filling the air. She saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in hand, a soft smile tugging at your lips when you saw her.

“How was training?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. You could see it in Alexia’s eyes.

Alexia sighed, dropping her bag by the door. “I didn’t make the squad for this weekend’s game.”

You set the cup aside and patted the space beside you on the couch. “I’m sorry. But you’re doing the right thing, Lex. You know that, right?”

Alexia nodded, though the weight of it all was heavy on her chest. She wanted to argue, to say that she was ready, that she could fight through it. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t true. The knee was still fragile, and her mind... her mind was even more fragile.

Without a word, Alexia collapsed into your side, burying her face in your shoulder. And then, something happened that Alexia never expected. She felt the tears start to fall.

The floodgates opened, and all the emotions she had been suppressing poured out. She cried about the pressure, the expectations, the constant feeling that she had to be perfect. She cried about her knee, about the fear that she might never be the player she once was. She cried about her father, about how she had worked so hard to make him proud, only to have him taken from her before he could see her dreams come true.

"I don’t know if I can do it anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “What if I’m not good enough anymore? What if my knee can’t take it? What if I’m letting everyone down?”

You held her, your arms wrapping around her tightly, offering comfort without words. You let her cry, let her release the weight of the world that had been pressing down on her for so long.

“Lex,” you said softly, once the tears had slowed. “You’re not alone. I’m here. We’re in this together.”

Alexia sniffled, grateful for your unwavering support. “But I’ve worked my whole life for this. I can’t just... give up.”

“You don’t have to give up,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “You just need to give yourself time. Your knee will heal when it heals. You can’t rush it. And you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s enough.”

Alexia took a deep breath, feeling a little lighter, though the doubts still lingered. You always knew how to calm the storm inside her. You didn’t try to fix everything or offer empty reassurances. You just were there for her—a constant, steady presence, reminding her that it was okay to take a step back.

You stood, reaching out a hand to Alexia. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You need to rest.”

Alexia allowed herself to be led to the bedroom, her body heavy with exhaustion. She lay down on the bed, curling up under the soft blankets. A few minutes later, you returned with a steaming cup of tea and a small sandwich.

“You need to eat,” you said, setting the tray down next to her. “You can’t keep skipping meals.”

Alexia managed a small smile, grateful for the care that you always showed. She took a bite of the sandwich, sipping the tea slowly, feeling the warmth seep into her body.

After she finished, you crawled into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her. Alexia nestled her head into your chest, the rhythmic beat of your heart soothing her racing mind.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Alexia murmured, her voice muffled by your shirt.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied softly, your fingers threading through Alexia’s hair. “I’m always here. Always.”

Alexia’s eyes fluttered shut, the weight of the day still pressing on her, but the comfort of your embrace made it bearable.

As she drifted off to sleep, you kissed the top of her head. “You’re not alone, Lex. We're in this together. And I’ll be right here, no matter what.”

And for the first time in weeks, Alexia allowed herself to believe that things would be okay. She wasn’t alone in this fight.

[speaking-riddlish]

An idea...

Raven spends a lot of time around mirrors. When getting ready in the mornings she lingers a little longer than normal before stepping away. She has a small round mirror on her bedside, she carries it with her at the bottom of her bag. Sometimes she can be found talking to it when she thinks she's alone. Sometimes you might catch her giving it a quick hug.

Most people assume this is vanity, a Daring-esque obsession with her looks. After all, she is destined to freak out over the idea of someone else being the fairest so much that she'd kill over it. She's supposed to be vain.

But those who know Raven know the real reason. Raven's mother is behind that glass.

Raven's relationship with her mother wasn't always so strained as it is now. There was a day when Raven was younger, too young to understand what their destiny was, too young to understand how truly evil her mom was, too young to understand what her mom had done. When her mom wasn't "the evil queen" to her, when her mom was just "mom". In these days she and her mother had been close. Raven had told her everything, and they'd done everything together. When her mom took her to go have tea every Tuesday, and they'd have salon days and smoothies on the weekends. Things may be more complicated now. Raven doesn't want to be like her mom, and says she hates her, wants nothing to do with her. But a part of her is still that little girl, wanting to run into her mother's arms for a hug. A part of her cries out to be close with her again. A part of her wishes her mother would support her in her rebellion against destiny, so they could be close again. She wishes her mother hated their destiny as much as she does. She wishes she could spend time with her mom, just the two of them, just one more time. She wishes that trying to do that wasn't an inevitable recipe for more pain, due to their different worldviews. It hurts.

Raven can't hear the other side of the mirror, but she knows her mom can see and hear through it. So when the little girl in side her is crying out, despite all her hatred and anger towards her mother...

Raven spends a lot of time around mirrors.

[cardigan-ns]

Rich Man’s World

Pairing: Declan O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were the new camera woman at Corinium studios, and after one too many guests make comments about you, Declan snaps.

Note: Reader is 21. And all the men in this story are fictional.

“Right, silence we’re live in 3…2…1…” You thumb’s upped Declan as you kept your eye on the feed the camera was getting. You were on the ground floor filming him this very Saturday at 8pm, as you do every weekend for the past 2 months since you both started this job. He was charismatic, never made a mistake with the cue cards, always argumentative with his guest, the man did his research. You were enamoured by him with every time he made eye contact with the camera, or he approached you in the halls, he was casual, like any co-worker would be, but you were mush in his hands.

Tonight his guest was a known Director, Quinn Williamson, you couldn’t give two shits about him, you were more focused on your constant muse, as he laughed and questioned his guest. You looked up at the watchtower for a second while Seb gave you a thumbs up, and Tony just glared at you, like you came with the camera when they shipped it from America. Only they didn’t, and you’ve just graduated from London university. But Tony didn’t care, not in the slightest. You signalled 3…2…1 to Declan to alert him the break was coming up and the cameras were about to run ads. “We’ll see how many more behind the scenes laughs we have from Mister Williamson after the break.”

The makeup artists went over to the freshly questioned director and you walked towards the tea and coffee table, needing some energy, unknown that Declan had the exact same idea as you. “You know, you’re getting better every week.” He spoke in his thick Irish accent which broke you from your daze of stirring the wooden stick in the cheap styrofoam cup, while you melted your instant coffee. “It’s a much better improvement from me cursing live on air, mid you interviewing the biggest astronaut in the world.” You got flustered, never living it down, it woke you up most nights from the sheer pain it brought your nervous system.

It only made Declan laugh to himself, “Well we’ve had no accidents live on air since, and I know it’ll keep that way.” He nudged you, as he leaned across from you to grab a custard crème from the tray of biscuits. “Come on, give yourself the credit.” He gave a small smile, half covered by his moustache, he then bit into the biscuit and you added the milk to the coffee. “I am, just better not to boast about it.” You toast your cup in the air as a thanks for being so kind and you stood behind the camera again, zooming it out so it’ll be back to normal for when it’s back on air.

Whilst Declan sat back on his chair and brushed away biscuit crumbs from his tie, Williamson leant over and nudged Declan, “She’s a right tap isn’t she?” If only you could see the distasteful glare Declan gave the man, how dare he speak about you in such a way, like you’re piece of meat, and expect him to agree? Oh he was livid. “I’ll have you know that she is a human being, working. Be respectful before I ask you to leave, Quinn. Wouldn’t want your fans knowing how much of a perv you are, would we?” The director shut his mouth then and there and you’d began to question why the remainder of the show was so hostile, you’d just assumed Declan had some dirt on him that he was saving for later but nothing ever happened.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The following Saturday the same thing happened, this time you were leaning over to pick up a script you’d dropped in the hallway, and Declan was walking with his new guest, Local Busker Randy Yovak, for his heartwarming claim to local fame. And he nudged Declan as Randy seemed to notice your skirt rise up as you pick up the fallen piece of paper, “fucking Christ.” This caused Declan to ignore Randy for a second and follow you as you retreated down the hall. “Darlin’” he spoke softly, causing you to turn around with a smile. “Yeah?” You asked unaware of the comments tonight’s guest made on you. “Could you work on camera number 5 tonight? It’ll give you some more experience with the newer editions.” You figured he was watching out for your skills for the different camera’s the set had, not that he was basically keeping you out of sight from Randy, so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. “Sure thing, I’ll let you know how I found it once we’ve wrapped the episode.” You nod and walk away from him, taking the conversation as nothing but a kind suggestion.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

And again, it happened while Declan was showing a possible new errand boy around the building, as an induction. Declan introduced you to him, seeing as he could be helping you sometimes, you shook the errand boys hand and exchanged a few words. After a while he’d then ran to the bathroom. “What do you think of the lad?” Declan asked, seeking whether or not you approved of the chap, that’s all he cared about, his arms crossed. You set the files on the counter and tilted your head as the guy walked away. “He’s the guy I told you about, the one that followed me home on the bus yesterday.” Declan stood there for a moment before pointing a finger at you as to say ‘one moment’ before he himself retreated down the hall.

He came back and his gelled hair was now messy with curls poking out left right and centre. “Did you fall?” You asked with a small laugh at his frustrated face. “Something like that.” He nodded assuredly, “That boy isn’t gonna work here anymore.” He walked off with a chip on his shoulder, did no fucking man have any decency anymore, it fucking angered him beyond repair.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Tonight was Declan’s big night, he had his idol on the show, someone he admired more than anyone, he was nervous all week about it, begging you to get his good angles on camera 2. Which caused you to laugh and promise him that. “Here’s to no mistakes.” He put his hand up to high five you, that’s been your motto ever since you did fuck up live on air. And ever since, the mantras worked. “Here’s to no mistakes.” You laugh as you clasp your hand with his and run to your camera as your guest walked in, An Irish singer, who flew over here because he’s such a big fan of Declan and Declan has requested he be on the show 8 separate times. Samson O’Connell. Declan looked over at you. Only you somehow knew of his school-boy excitement, he gave his charming smile then shook his guests hand. You turned round to the audience and handed them the small basket of sweets you were told to pass around before the show went live.

Around 20 minutes later the show came back from break and you were concentrated behind the camera, slowly zooming into Declan as he began to ask Samson a question. “So, Mister O’Connell, there’s been rumours of romance in the air, do you happen to be seeing anyone?” Declan spoke and you turned the camera to Samson and he was already looking in the direction of the camera, causing you to slightly jump when it landed on his face, causing Samson to give a weird smile, and Declan giving a confused one. “When I’m done this interview I will have.” Samson said like a predator catching its prey, you felt physically revolted and uncomfortable, you began to fix your dress or anything so he’d look away. Declan didn’t like that, he didn’t like the look of weariness on your face and after all this time he finally snapped, for a second forgetting he was on live television, leapt over and sucker punched Samson right in the face. Causing him to fall backwards on his chair and Declan stood there heavy breathing. “You ever look at her like that again, I’ll fucking kill ‘ya!” He spoke loudly and harshly, pointing his finger down to Samson as he laid there, his face bruised and bleeding. Declan stormed off set, and behind the camera where you stood, frozen.

“Come on, love. Let me get you out of here.” You stumbled, as you looked up at Declan’s angered face, as he gently spoke to you, the contrast making you know he wouldn’t hurt you but flattered that he defended you, even if his career was on the line and even though he decked his idol, none of that he cared about, he just cared about you and your safety.

His hand never left yours, the touch was light and loose but it showed he was here, he didn’t want to further your anxiousness by touching your shoulder or waist, so a light graze on the palm was good enough for him. And even though you could barely feel the lingering touch of his fingertips, it made you feel more secure than if he’d given you a bear hug. He was a gentle man.

He led you into the cafeteria, and pulled a chair out for you to sit down and he poured some coffee into a cup for you, adding a sugar and a drop of milk just how you liked it. He’d known that from the countless times he’d caught himself observing you doing so. “Drink up, keep you warm.” He gave a small smile as he sat beside you, rubbing your back. You seemed to calm in his presence. “What he did was disgusting. And best believe, I’m taking a break from the show for a while.” He sighed as he saw your heartbroken face gaze up at him. “Declan, you can’t do that.” You spoke softly, almost above a whisper, and he raised his brow, “I’m not encouraging Corinium’s behaviour, they let anyone walk in here. Anyone with fucking gumption. It’s despicable. I’m not standing for it.” His face contorted to one of helplessness, he’s doing all he can and it’s still happening. No matter the 4 separate times he’s went to Tony and Cameron complaining about the employers in this establishment.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he removed his touch from your back and he toyed with the sugar shaker, as a form of distracting himself from running out of there and giving Samson another few digs in the groin. You watched Declan’s hand move the shaker in a circular motion, and you fumbled your coffee as you drank it. “Yeah, I am. I’m just disappointed we made another mistake on television.” She wanted to forget the comment Samson made, and wanted to fill her brain with happiness, and she knew how to do that, by talking with Declan about their pact. “Christ, love I’m sorry.” He put a hand to his forehead with a smile. “I fucked up our arrangement didn’t I?” You laughed as he genuinely looked hurt that you’d have to start over the well crafted streak.

“It’s okay, we have plenty more live shows ahead of us. Just bring on a few more women next time, yeah?” You nudged him and he laughed and nodded.

“I will. Starting with you.” He moved a stray hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear, he then noticed the bewilderment on your face at the mention of you in-front of the camera.

“We have so many laughs to tell, I’m sure everyone’s dying to see who makes my show as good as they are.” Your smile lifted his spirits and he knew what he was doing this for, to see your happiness and spark.

“Come on, I’ll leave you home.”

[koyagifs]

𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓼

pairing: jongho x reader au: college | time loop genre: angst word count: 8.103 k synopsis: jongho thought he’ll be having a normal weekend, to be able to hang out with the boys. why he is waking up in his bed when he recalls falling asleep in his friends house drunk. warning(s): alcohol consumption, bullying, spitting on someone author note: really basing this off before i fall (hence the title lol) i’m such a sucker for angst.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝟏𝟎:𝟏𝟓𝐚𝐦

➜ Jongho let out a bored sigh, his thumb absently tapping against the pen in his hand as he tried to focus on his professor's monotonous lecture. His mind wandered, lost in thoughts of anything but the history lesson. He barely registered the words being spoken until the sound of the classroom door creaking open caught his attention.

Suddenly, a familiar figure filled the doorway, causing the room to fall silent as everyone turned to look. Standing there, dressed in a full Santa Claus costume, was none other than Wooyoung. He grinned mischievously, the bright red suit and fluffy white beard a stark contrast to the usual seriousness of their class.

Jongho blinked, snapping back into reality as Wooyoung made his way inside with a playful swagger, seemingly oblivious to the curious stares from the other students. His Santa hat sat crookedly atop his head, and he gave a dramatic twirl, causing a few students to snicker.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!" Wooyoung boomed, his voice deep and exaggerated, before winking at Jongho, who was still processing the sudden disruption.

Seonghwa's voice rang out, a touch of humor lacing his tone. "Sorry for interrupting, professor! Candy grams before winter break!" He shot the professor a cheeky smile, clearly enjoying the chaos he and Wooyoung were causing.

The professor, clearly taken aback but not inclined to fight the festive spirit, nodded his head, motioning for Seonghwa to go ahead. He returned to his desk, adjusting his glasses as Seonghwa enthusiastically began to pass out the little candy gram cards, each with a small treat and a personalized note.

Jongho, still somewhat amused by the disruption, perked up in his seat. His smirk grew when his gaze landed on Yn, who sat a few rows in front of him. She looked like she was trying to shrink into her seat, her shoulders drawn up as if wishing to disappear entirely.

The way she instinctively flinched when Seonghwa neared her desk told Jongho everything he needed to know. Seonghwa, with his usual charm, leaned over her desk with a grin. "No need to hide, badger. This one's for you," he teased, slipping the candy gram into her hand.

Jongho raised an eyebrow, watching as Yn’s face flushed a deep shade of red, her attempt to avoid the limelight clearly failing. She was trying her best to keep a straight face, but her hands betrayed her, nervously gripping the little card.

Jongho watched, a soft chuckle escaping him as Yn hastily opened the candy gram, her eyes flicking between the small note and the class around her. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tore the paper, but the moment she read whatever Seonghwa had written, her face turned an even deeper shade of crimson.

Without skipping a beat, she swiftly grabbed her things—a notebook and her bag—and stood up, clearly trying to avoid lingering any longer. She left the note behind on her desk, too embarrassed to even acknowledge it.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung, of course, couldn’t contain their laughter. The two exchanged glances, their eyes twinkling with mischief. Wooyoung let out a loud, exaggerated laugh. "Looks like someone’s running from the truth!" he teased, clearly enjoying the reaction.

Seonghwa, never one to let an opportunity slip, leaned toward Wooyoung with a grin. "She’s practically sprinting from it." His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper, just loud enough for a few students nearby to hear. "Do you think she read the part about Jongho?"

Jongho’s smirk turned into a knowing smile, but he didn’t miss the glance Yn threw his way before she dashed out of the classroom. Her cheeks were still flushed, her hurried pace leaving no doubt that she wanted to escape the teasing.

The professor, finally regaining some control over the class after the brief disruption, cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. "Alright, class," he said, his voice much firmer now, "Let's get back to the lesson. Wooyoung and Seonghwa left, much to their dismay as Jongho laid back into his chair.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 10:36p𝐦

➜ Jongho chuckled softly, his arm around Emma’s waist as she sat on his lap, clearly enjoying the aftermath of the earlier chaos. She took another sip from her mixed drink, her eyes still sparkling with amusement.

"I wish you had been there too," Jongho replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Yn’s face was priceless—she turned about three shades of red and practically ran out of the room." He couldn't help but laugh at the memory.

Hongjoong scoffed as Emma and Jongho raised their eyebrow in confusion.

"What's your deal?" Emma asked, her voice tinged with annoyance as she glanced at Hongjoong, her curiosity piqued by his sudden mood change.

Jongho mirrored her expression, his playful grin faltering just slightly as he shifted to face Hongjoong. "You got something to say?" he asked, though the question was more casual than confrontational.

Jongho watched as Hongjoong disappeared into the crowd, muttering something inaudible under his breath. He wasn’t sure what had triggered the sudden shift in his friend’s mood, but he wasn’t about to press him for an explanation—at least, not while Hongjoong seemed determined to stay distant.

Emma, seemingly unfazed by the brief tension, continued her conversation with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, the two of them laughing about something unrelated to the earlier incident with Yn. Jongho found himself sinking further into the couch, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on his drink as he tried to shake off the strange feeling that had lingered since Hongjoong’s departure.

Despite the festive atmosphere around him, he couldn’t ignore the knot of unease in his stomach. It wasn’t like Hongjoong to just leave a conversation without a word or a joke, and it felt odd for him to suddenly pull away like that. But instead of dwelling on it, Jongho decided to let it go—for the moment, at least.

Yelling can be heard as Jongho just now realized Emma is not on his lap anymore. Looking around, his eyes landed on Emma clearly yelling at someone. Rushing to her side, Jongho eyes landed onto the person who is now on the ground. Jongho’s heart dropped as his gaze flicked from the woman on the ground to Emma, his eyes widening in disbelief. The woman, who had their hair covering their face, was none other then yn.

His mind raced as he rushed toward Emma, taking in the scene before him. Yn was sitting there her face a mix of humiliation and shock. She looked completely caught off guard, not expecting any of this.

"What's going on?" Jongho asked, his voice strained as he stepped closer, trying to get a better grasp of the situation.

Emma, who had been glaring at Yn with fierce satisfaction, turned toward him, her smile prideful and triumphant. "This bitch thinks she can waltz in here like she was invited or something," she snapped, her voice dripping with venom. "She should have known better than to try and sneak in."

Before Jongho could react, one of Emma’s friends, standing nearby, grinned wickedly and poured the rest of their drink onto Yn’s lap, the liquid splashing across her clothes. The room fell into a hushed silence as everyone watched the scene unfold.

Jongho's stomach dropped. "Emma, what the hell?" he said, his voice firm now as he took a step toward her, trying to get between them. His gaze shifted from Yn, who looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole, to Emma, whose expression showed no sign of remorse.

Emma squatted down in front of Yn, her tone harsh but controlled. "You think you can show up here uninvited and not face the consequences?" She leaned in closer, her voice low. "You don’t belong here."

Jongho barely had time to react before he was shoved hard by Hongjoong, his body stumbling back slightly as the older man stepped forward, fury radiating from him. The force of Hongjoong's push caught Emma off guard, and she was quickly shoved aside, her eyes wide with shock.

"That's enough, Emma!" Hongjoong's voice was loud, his tone filled with raw anger as he stood between her and Yn. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped, his eyes blazing as he faced her down. His usual calm and collected demeanor had completely evaporated, replaced by an intensity that made the entire room fall silent.

Emma opened her mouth to retort, but Hongjoong wasn’t having it. "Don’t," he warned, his voice hard.

Jongho blinked, momentarily stunned by Hongjoong’s sudden outburst. He was surprised—he’d never seen Hongjoong this upset, especially not over a confrontation like this. The energy in the room had completely shifted, everyone now watching, waiting to see what would happen next.

Emma’s expression flickered between anger and confusion, but she didn’t say anything. For a moment, it seemed like the tension was about to boil over again, but Hongjoong’s glare was enough to keep her quiet.

Jongho stepped closer, finally finding his voice. "Hongjoong, what—" But Hongjoong cut him off, his eyes still fixed on Emma, as if daring her to say another word.

Jongho’s heart clenched as he watched Hongjoong gently lift Yn to her feet, his hands steady and reassuring as he helped her stand. The sound of Yn’s choked sob broke through the thick tension in the room, a sound that echoed in Jongho’s chest like a painful reminder of how deeply she’d been hurt. He hadn’t realized how much it would affect him, but now, hearing her cry, something inside him snapped.

His eyes widened as he took a step forward, his pulse quickening. There was an overwhelming mix of anger, guilt, and helplessness flooding him all at once. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this. She had been pushed into a corner, humiliated in front of everyone, and now all he wanted to do was protect her from feeling that pain.

Jongho’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. He had never seen Emma like this before. But what hurt even more was the helplessness gnawing at him, knowing there was nothing he could have done to stop it from happening in the first place.

Jongho’s breath hitched as Yn, after a moment of stillness, finally moved her hand up to wipe the hair from her face. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, locked onto Emma’s, and for a brief second, everything seemed to freeze. The tension in the room was so thick that it felt like it might snap.

And then, without warning, Yn did something no one expected.

A scream tore from Emma’s throat as she recoiled, her hand coming up to wipe the spit off her face in disgust. The sharp sound echoed through the room, drawing everyone’s attention to the chaos that had just unfolded.

"You—!" Emma’s voice was high-pitched, full of anger and humiliation as she wiped her face, her body trembling with fury. The sight of Yn’s defiance, the boldness of her action, seemed to cut through the haze of everything that had happened, shattering the facade Emma had held up until now.

Yn didn’t wait to see what Emma would do next. Her eyes glistening with unshed tears, she turned and ran, her feet pounding against the floor as she fled out of the house. The front door slammed behind her, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

Jongho’s heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat. His mind raced, the shock of the moment still gripping him as he turned toward Hongjoong, who was watching Emma with a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

Jongho’s hand ran through his hair again, his mind still reeling from the chaos of the night. His thoughts were split between wanting to find Yn and the mess Emma had caused. The muffled voices of the crowd around him felt distant, but he could hear Emma’s voice cutting through, her tone venomous and full of frustration.

He glanced back at her, but his gaze remained distant as he muttered under his breath, "Are you okay, babe?" He didn’t know if he was asking Emma or if he was just speaking out of habit, the words coming more from a place of tension than actual concern.

Emma gave him a quick nod, but there was no real warmth in her response. Her expression was cold, her eyes filled with bitterness as she wiped at her face again, though it wasn’t clear if she was trying to rid herself of the shame or just reassert her dominance.

"What a fucking freak," she muttered under her breath, the words dripping with disdain. She turned away slightly, as if trying to distance herself from the situation, but the damage was already done.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏9𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 2:06a𝐦

➜ Jongho lay there, the weight of the night pressing heavily on his chest. He could feel the soft, steady rise and fall of Emma's breathing beside him, her body curled up in a peaceful, almost innocent way that contrasted sharply with the storm raging inside him. He kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, the faint glow of the streetlights outside casting shadows on the walls. But no matter how still the room was, he couldn't quiet the thoughts racing through his mind.

The events of the night played on an endless loop, flashing before his eyes as if his brain couldn't process everything fast enough. Yn’s sobs. The look in her eyes when she’d finally spat in Emma’s face, the final act of defiance. The sound of Emma’s scream as she recoiled, the disgust on her face as she wiped her skin, as if Yn’s actions were somehow the issue.

And then, the way Yn had run out of the house, her feet pounding the pavement like a frantic animal, escaping from the very people who should’ve been there to protect her.

Jongho winced, his chest tightening. What had he done to stop any of it? Nothing. He had been too stunned, too caught up in the chaos, to step in sooner. He had watched Emma destroy any chance of peace, and he had let it happen.

His thoughts shifted back to Emma, to the way she had dismissed everything that had gone down. The way she’d turned her back on Yn, even when the girl needed someone to stand up for her. Emma’s words rang in his mind like an accusation: “What a fucking freak.” It made him sick to think about it, but the more he thought about Emma’s behavior, the harder it was to ignore the gnawing feeling that maybe he had been too blind to see it before.

Emma, the girl he had once found so captivating, had shown him a side he couldn’t reconcile with the person he thought she was. He had always assumed her confidence, her sharp words, were just a part of who she was, something he admired. But tonight, he saw how easily that mask could slip into something darker.

And Yn? She had been nothing but a victim in all of this—a target of Emma’s and his cruelty. And now, she was out there somewhere, alone, maybe still feeling the weight of what had happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way she had looked at him before running away, her face etched with pain and humiliation.

Jongho’s fingers tightened into fists, the frustration building in his chest like a pressure he couldn’t release. He had to make things right. He had to find a way to fix this. He couldn’t stand the idea of Yn feeling like she had been abandoned by everyone.

But there was Emma, lying beside him, her presence a constant reminder of the conflict that churned within him. He cared for her, he did, but the way she had acted tonight… it wasn’t something he could just overlook. His heart was torn between the two of them, but there was no denying the growing certainty that he needed to be there for Yn, to support her in a way he hadn’t before.

Jongho shifted slightly in the bed, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep—not while the echoes of the night still haunted him. He wanted to talk to Emma, to figure out where things went wrong, but right now, his mind was too clouded. He couldn’t make sense of it all.

All he knew was that he couldn’t stay silent anymore. He had to make things right with Yn, whatever it took. And for the first time, he wasn’t sure where that would leave him and Emma.

Jongho's eyes fluttered open to the harsh sound of his alarm blaring, the beeping ringing in his ears. He groggily reached out, expecting to feel Emma’s warmth beside him, but his hand only met the cool sheets of the bed. His brows furrowed in confusion as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and scanning the room around him.

The familiar surroundings of his own room didn’t match the hazy memory of last night. His mind raced, trying to piece together the events that had led him here. Hongjoong's house, he remembered vaguely. He had fallen asleep in the spare bedroom there, after everything had gone down.

Jongho's thoughts scrambled, trying to make sense of the fragments of the night before. The chaos. Emma's outburst. Yn running off into the night. He’d been consumed by worry for her, but somehow, in the blur of everything, he must’ve ended up here. But where was Emma?

Jongho jumped slightly at the sudden sound of the door busting open. He looked up to see Hongjoong standing in the doorway, holding a plate of food with his usual easy smile on his face, as if nothing had happened the night before.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Hongjoong said cheerfully, stepping into the room and placing the plate on the nightstand. "We have class in about an hour."

Jongho blinked, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, his mind briefly caught between the fog of dreams and the reality of everything that had happened. He glanced at the plate of food—eggs, toast, and a few slices of fruit—and then back at Hongjoong, who didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

He recalls this happened yesterday before heading to class.

" what happen last night?" Jongho asked, making hongjoong turn to him in confusion.

" last night? nothing more then the usual. OH, which reminds me, party is still on for tonight," Hongjoong said, taking a piece of fruit and popping it into his mouth.

Jongho looked at him in confusion, " didn't we just have one last night?"

Hongjoong looked at him, an eyebrow raised as he reached towards Jongho forehead. Jongho shoved his hand away, as Hongjoong chuckled.

“No? We studied last night,” Hongjoong said with a chuckle, still looking amused. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re acting like you’re hungover, but we didn’t even drink.”

Jongho frowned, his confusion deepening. Studied? That didn’t make sense. His memories of the previous night were vivid—Emma’s sharp words, the way Yn had run out of the house, Hongjoong stepping in to defend her. It had all felt so real.

“Studied?” Jongho repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. “You’re telling me we just sat around and hit the books last night?”

Hongjoong nodded, popping another piece of fruit into his mouth. “Yeah, you were complaining the whole time about how boring it was. I remember because you fell asleep halfway through one of the chapters, and I had to wake you up.”

Jongho blinked, the weight of Hongjoong’s words crashing over him. What the hell is going on?

A wave of nausea hit him like a freight train. His stomach churned violently, and his hands began to tremble. He felt frozen, his mind desperately trying to process what Hongjoong had just said. The memories of the night before were so vivid—Emma’s sharp words, Yn’s devastated expression, Hongjoong stepping in with uncharacteristic anger. It had all felt so real. But now, Hongjoong was acting like none of it had ever happened.

“Are you okay, man?” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the haze, his tone tinged with concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Jongho opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His throat felt dry, his chest tight. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Jongho?” Hongjoong crouched in front of him now, his carefree demeanor gone. “Hey, you’re freaking me out. What’s wrong?”

“I—” Jongho finally managed to force out, though his voice was shaky. He stood abruptly, pacing the room. His steps were erratic, his hands running through his hair as if trying to pull out the confusion clouding his mind.

Hongjoong watched him, his expression shifting from concern to outright confusion. “Jongho, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with worry. “You’re acting... I don’t know, off. Talk to me.”

“I don’t know!” Jongho snapped, though the frustration wasn’t directed at Hongjoong.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, then turned away abruptly. “I’m going to go finish getting ready,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his things and rushed out of the room. “I’ll talk to you later, hyung.”

Hongjoong called after him, concern evident in his tone but Jongho didn’t stop. His steps echoed down the hall as he headed toward the bathroom, needing a moment to himself. The walls felt like they were closing in on him, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t pin down. This doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.

He splashed cold water on his face, gripping the edges of the sink as he stared at his reflection. His own eyes stared back, wide with unease. “Get it together,” he muttered to himself, his voice trembling. “You’re overthinking this. It’s just stress. That’s all it is.”

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t just stress. Something was wrong—something he couldn’t explain. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Whatever was happening, he needed to keep it together. At least for now.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, the hallway was empty. Hongjoong had probably gone ahead to class. Jongho took a moment to gather his thoughts, his resolve hardening.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏8𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 10:15a𝐦 day 2

➜ Jongho’s stomach churned violently as the classroom door swung open. His heart sank as he saw Wooyoung and Seonghwa walk in, Seonghwa still dressed as Santa, the stack of candy grams in his hands. The familiar cheeky grin spread across Seonghwa’s face as he called out, “Sorry for interrupting, Professor! Candy grams before winter break!”

The exact same words. The exact same tone. Jongho’s grip on his desk tightened as a wave of nausea washed over him. He tried to steady his breathing, but the overwhelming sense of déjà vu was suffocating.

His gaze darted around the room, watching the reactions of his classmates. They were all the same, down to the smallest details. The laughter, the whispers, the way one student rolled their eyes and muttered something under their breath—it was all exactly as it had been before.

Then his eyes landed on Yn. She was sitting quietly, her head slightly lowered, her pencil tapping anxiously against the desk. Jongho knew what was coming next, and his stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa began moving through the rows, handing out candy grams and cracking jokes. When Seonghwa approached Yn’s desk, Jongho’s heart was pounding so loudly he could barely hear anything else. Seonghwa handed her the candy gram with a wide grin, and Jongho could see Yn’s shoulders tense as she hesitated before taking it.

Jongho’s stomach churned violently as he watched Yn crumble the note in her hand, her face flushed with humiliation. Without a word, she bolted from the room, her footsteps loud and hurried against the tiled floor. His heart sank further when Seonghwa and Wooyoung burst into laughter, their amusement echoing through the room like nails on a chalkboard.

The professor cleared his throat loudly, his disapproval cutting through the laughter. “That’s enough,” he said, his tone stern as he turned back to his desk, attempting to regain control of the class. The murmured whispers that followed didn’t do much to ease the tension in the air.

Wooyoung leaned over to Seonghwa, still grinning. “She’s way too sensitive, huh? Always making it a bigger deal than it is.”

Seonghwa shrugged, smirking. “Can’t take a joke, I guess.”

Jongho’s stomach twisted at their words, the casual way they dismissed her pain making his blood boil. But the worst part was the nagging voice in his head, accusing him.

As the professor continued his lecture, Jongho could barely hear a word. His mind was racing, replaying the scene over and over, each detail cutting deeper than the last. Yn’s crumpled expression, her hurried escape, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor—it was all too vivid.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 10:36p𝐦 day 2

Jongho leaned against the wall in the corner of Hongjoong's crowded living room, nursing a drink he hadn’t even taken a sip from. The music thumped around him, and the room buzzed with energy as everyone mingled, laughing and talking over one another. Yet, despite the lively atmosphere, Jongho felt suffocated, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his chest.

He had been quick to avoid Emma, who had made her entrance earlier, laughing loudly and drawing everyone’s attention as usual. The memory of last night—or whatever version of “last night” this was—was still fresh in his mind. Her cruel words, the way she and her friends had humiliated Yn, played on a loop in his head. He couldn’t face her, not now.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa had been relentless in trying to pull him into their antics, but he’d dodged every attempt.

“Come on, Jongho,” Wooyoung called out, holding up a shot glass as he weaved through the crowd toward him. “You’re acting like an old man at a high school party. Lighten up!”

Jongho shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Not tonight.”

Wooyoung groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “Not tonight? You’ve been like this all day. What’s wrong with you?”

Seonghwa appeared beside him, holding a drink of his own, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. “Yeah, what’s the deal? You’re usually the life of the party.”

“I’m fine,” Jongho muttered, his gaze darting around the room, searching for Yn. He didn’t know if she was even here—part of him hoped she wasn’t. Maybe she’d decided to avoid the party altogether after what had happened in class.

“You’re not fine,” Seonghwa countered, his grin fading slightly as he gave Jongho a curious look. “You’re acting weird. Did Emma say something? Or—wait—” His eyes widened, his grin returning. “Are you into someone here?”

Jongho rolled his eyes, pushing past the two of them. “I said I’m fine. Just drop it.”

He slipped through the crowd, ignoring Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s protests. His heart was pounding in his chest, the frustration and confusion from the day bubbling dangerously close to the surface. He needed to find a quiet corner to think, to figure out why this day kept repeating and what he could possibly do to stop it.

As he moved through the house, he caught a glimpse of Hongjoong, who was busy talking to a group of friends near the kitchen. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Jongho felt a flicker of something—concern? Recognition? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Jongho’s gaze kept flicking back to his watch, the minutes dragging on with each passing second. His hand shook slightly as he chugged whatever he could mix into his cup, a desperate attempt to drown the restlessness gnawing at him. The weight of the same recurring day, the tension of everything that had happened—and everything that hadn’t—pressed down on him.

The sound of laughter and music, a constant blur of voices and movement, only added to his disorientation as he paced through Hongjoong’s house. The walls seemed to close in around him as he tried to push down the anxiety that bubbled in his chest.

" jongho are you okay?"

Jongho’s pulse quickened as he looked up at Hongjoong, the tension in his shoulders creeping higher. The loud buzz of the party around him seemed to dull, and suddenly Hongjoong’s voice cut through the noise.

“Dude, seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Hongjoong’s voice was lower now, his tone far from playful. The faint haze of alcohol was evident in his eyes, but there was something else—something more concerned behind the question.

Jongho’s stomach dropped as his gaze snapped toward the growing commotion at the far end of the room. The voices grew louder, more aggressive, and the distinct sound of shuffling feet echoed through the space. Hongjoong was already moving before Jongho could process what was happening, and without thinking, Jongho followed closely behind him, his heart pounding in his chest.

As they rounded the corner, the scene unfolded before them, the familiar feeling of dread curling in Jongho’s gut. The same chaos, the same tension—it was all happening again, but this time, something felt different.

The voices shouting at each other were growing more heated. It was Yn. She was standing in the middle of the commotion, her back to the wall, her face flushed with a mix of frustration and fear. Around her, a small group of people were arguing—Emma's friends. Their words were cruel, venomous, and the atmosphere was thick with hostility.

But what made this scene feel different from before was the way everyone else in the room had fallen into silence. The partygoers, the ones who had been dancing and talking moments ago, were now watching in hushed awe as the confrontation played out before them. Jongho’s eyes searched the crowd, looking for Emma, but she wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Jongho’s stomach twisted violently as the sickening sound of a body hitting the floor echoed through the hallway. His eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, everything felt like it slowed down. His gaze snapped to where Yn had been heading, and his heart sank as he saw Emma standing over her. The anger that boiled inside him surged uncontrollably as he saw Emma shove Yn to the ground, the force of it leaving her sprawled across the floor.

Yn winced, her hands scraping against the cold ground as she tried to push herself up, but the insults continued to fly from Emma’s friends, their words cruel and cutting.

"EMMA!" Hongjoong’s voice thundered across the space, and the crowd immediately quieted, their attention shifting to him. The air was thick with anticipation as everyone waited to see what would happen next.

Emma’s head snapped around at the sound of Hongjoong’s voice, but before she could even say a word, a loud, shrill screech pierced the air. It was a sound of rage, and Jongho felt his chest tighten, the anger that had been simmering just below the surface threatening to boil over once again.

The reason for Emma’s outburst became immediately clear. Standing before her, Yn had once again spat directly in Emma’s face. The group of onlookers gasped in unison, the silence amplifying the tension.

Emma stood there, frozen for a moment, completely taken aback, her face contorted in pure fury as the spit dripped from her cheek. Her friends stood stunned behind her, unsure of how to react to the sheer audacity of Yn's actions.

"YOU—!" Emma's voice cracked with indignation, but she was cut off by Hongjoong's harsh tone.

Jongho’s mind raced as the crowd murmured among themselves, their voices barely reaching him over the pounding of his own heartbeat. Yn was gone again—just like the last time, disappearing into the night, leaving him standing there with nothing but the aftermath of the chaos.

Jongho’s hands trembled as he grabbed the nearest bottle from the counter, his throat burning as he chugged whatever it was without a second thought. The cold liquid didn’t help to numb the storm raging inside him. It felt like everything was closing in—his confusion, his anger, the overwhelming sense of helplessness.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 8:30a𝐦

Jongho laid in his bed, his alarm already shut off and his door locked. The darkness of his room enveloped him as he stared at the ceiling, the faint hum of the outside world barely penetrating the silence. His body felt heavy, the weight of everything pressing down on him—his mind, his emotions, the unresolved tension between him and everyone around him.

The soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Jongho sighed, a mix of frustration and exhaustion sweeping over him. He had been lying there for what felt like hours, trying to make sense of everything, but the questions swirling in his mind were relentless. How’s my family? How are my friends? Am I even going to graduate?

" jongho, are you okay? you dont usually lock your door," Hongjoong muffled voice rang through.

Tears stung Jongho’s eyes as he stood, his legs weak as he made his way to the door. The weight of everything—the isolation, the overwhelming pressure—felt too much to bear. His hand shook as he reached for the lock, the cold metal under his fingers somehow colder than usual.

When he opened the door, the sight of Hongjoong standing there with the same plate of food. The food that should have been comforting now made his stomach churn violently. His body recoiled from the sight, the nausea creeping up on him as the scent of the meal only made everything feel more suffocating.

Hongjoong’s eyes softened when he saw the look on Jongho’s face, instantly realizing that something was wrong. He stepped forward, his hand holding out the plate, but his gaze was searching, reading the exhaustion and pain etched all over Jongho’s features.

“Jongho,” Hongjoong said softly, his voice filled with concern as he stepped closer. He watched his friend, clearly struggling, and it hurt him to see Jongho like this—broken and vulnerable.

But before Hongjoong could say anything more, Jongho’s emotions erupted. His chest heaved with quiet sobs, and tears poured from his eyes uncontrollably. It was as though all the pressure, all the pain, that he had been holding in for so long finally came crashing down on him.

Hongjoong acted quickly, moving forward and gently guiding Jongho back into his room. His arms were firm but comforting as he helped his friend sit on the bed, his hand never leaving Jongho’s shoulder to offer a sense of stability in the chaos of emotions.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Hongjoong whispered, sitting beside him. He gave him a moment to cry, to release everything that had been pent up inside. Jongho’s whole body trembled with the weight of his emotions. Hongjoong could feel the hurt radiating from him, and it stung to see someone so strong reduced to this.

" hyung," Jongho sniffled, wiping his nose.

Hongjoong hummed, patting his back as Jongho tried to regulate his breathing.

" would you think i'm crazy if i told you that i've been reliving the same day over and over again?" Jongho mumbled.

Hongjoong’s hand paused on Jongho’s back as the words left his friend’s mouth. The confession hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. He pulled back slightly to look at Jongho, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Reliving the same day... over and over again?” Hongjoong repeated, his voice soft, trying to process what Jongho had just said.

Jongho’s gaze was distant, like he was lost in his own mind, his fingers nervously clutching the edges of his blanket. He wiped at his nose again, his face flushed from crying.

“I know it sounds insane,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “but it feels so real. Like... I’m stuck in some kind of loop. Like everything keeps happening again and again, but I can’t change it. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it’s like I can’t get out.”

Hongjoong stayed silent for a moment, his mind racing. Was this just a manifestation of Jongho’s stress? Was it some kind of mental exhaustion from everything that had been happening? Or was there something deeper at play here? He didn’t know, but one thing was clear: Jongho needed someone to listen.

“You’re not crazy,” Hongjoong said, keeping his voice steady and reassuring.

Jongho nodded his head, " hyung...do you like yn?"

Jongho’s question hung in the air, delicate and loaded, as the silence between them grew thick. Hongjoong’s hand hovered for a moment, not quite knowing what to do with himself. He cleared his throat, his eyes avoiding Jongho’s as he processed the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

" what does yn have to do with your ' time loop' situation?" Hongjoong asked, looking away from Jongho.

" she comes to the party, tonight and Emma.."

Hongjoong's attention shifted slightly, his posture stiffening as he processed Jongho's words. His brows furrowed, as though trying to connect the dots in his mind. He turned back toward Jongho, his voice low but with a hint of curiosity.

" what does emma do Jongho ?"

He gulped, standing up from his bed as he went towards his window. " emma and her friends attack her but! I had no idea that she would! Seonghwa, wooyoung and i decided to pull a prank on her with the candy grams and-"

Hongjoong held his hand up, " you guys did what?" his voice now harden

Jongho stopped mid-sentence, his heart dropping at the sharpness in Hongjoong's voice. He turned slowly, meeting his friend's gaze with a mixture of guilt and confusion.

"We... we thought it would be funny," Jongho mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "We thought Yn would laugh along with it, but—"

Hongjoong shook his head, his body clearly showing how anger he is. " figure your stupid time loop and you three leave yn alone. Understood"?

Jongho winced at the harshness in Hongjoong’s tone, but the seriousness behind his words hit him hard. Hongjoong was right—he couldn’t keep repeating the same mistakes, not with Yn, not with anyone.

“Understood, hyung,” Jongho replied, his voice steady despite the knot of guilt in his stomach.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝟏𝟎:𝟏𝟓𝐚𝐦

Jongho’s gaze lingered on Yn, who sat at the far end of the classroom, her attention focused on the front as if she were trying to avoid everything around her. His chest tightened when he noticed Hongjoong seated beside her, his usual calm demeanor unmistakable even from a distance.

Had he always been there? The question swirled in Jongho’s mind as he tried to recall the classroom seating arrangement, but it felt like an insignificant detail compared to everything that had happened over the past few days. But something about the way Hongjoong was sitting so close to Yn made Jongho feel uneasy.

Hongjoong had always been protective of the people he cared about, but why was he just now noticing it towards Yn. The fact that he was now sitting beside her, close enough to be a physical presence in her space, stirred something in Jongho—a mix of guilt and a hint of jealousy. But more than that, it made him feel like an outsider in a situation that should’ve never escalated this far.

Jongho tensed as Seonghwa and Wooyoung entered the classroom, both dressed in their ridiculous Santa costumes, making their usual rounds with the candy grams. The sight was enough to make Jongho’s stomach twist with a mix of guilt and frustration.

Jongho’s breath hitched in his throat as Seonghwa and Wooyoung continued their rounds, their laughter echoing through the classroom. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread building in his chest as he watched them approach Yn. But something unexpected happened. As they walked past her, he saw the slightest shift in her posture.

Yn, who had been so tense just moments before, visibly relaxed, her shoulders dropping as if a weight had been lifted. And then, just as he was about to exhale in relief, he saw it—Hongjoong. his arm casually wrapping around her shoulders. Yn didn’t flinch, didn’t resist. Instead, she leaned into him ever so slightly, as if grateful for the familiar comfort.

The sight hit Jongho harder than he anticipated. There was something about the way Hongjoong was holding her, something gentle yet protective, that made Jongho feel like an outsider.

➤ 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 2:15p𝐦

Jongho's gaze lingered on Yn and San as they laughed and sang together, the sound of their voices blending in a melody that seemed to echo through his mind. He stood there, frozen, feeling like an outsider, even though he had always been part of this group.

It was strange, seeing Yn so effortlessly comfortable with his friends, especially San. He’d never noticed how natural their interaction was, how easily they fit together. The way they exchanged glances, their shared jokes—it all seemed so familiar, so effortless. But it left Jongho with an uncomfortable knot in his stomach. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Why hadn’t he seen how close they were?

He swallowed, trying to shake off the feeling of jealousy rising within him. I don’t have the right to be jealous, he reminded himself. I haven’t exactly treated her like I should have.

He watched them for a moment longer, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t bothered by their chemistry. But the truth was, it stung. Maybe it was because he knew he had messed up so many times, and now, seeing Yn with others—people who seemed to care for her in a way he hadn’t—made him question his place in her life.

His heart ached as Yn laughed at something San said, her smile so genuine, so unguarded. Jongho couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her smile like that around him, not without a hint of hesitation, not with the same warmth. He clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the urge to walk in there and interrupt, to somehow prove that he belonged, that he could still be the one to make her smile that way.

Jongho’s steps faltered as the mention of his name sliced through the air, and he hesitated, turning to glance over his shoulder at San. He wasn’t sure how to respond. His heart skipped a beat—did Hongjoong talk to San about him?

He stood frozen, waiting for the conversation to unfold.

San casually passed Yn a bottle of water, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness as he asked, "Has hyung talked to you about Jongho?"

Jongho felt his throat tighten. The question made it clear that Hongjoong had indeed been discussing him with others, and now it was out in the open.

" no but he said he wanted me and him to talk things out tonight at the party." yn said, avoiding eye contact with San.

San patted her back, " what even made jongho hate you so much?"

yn shrugged her shoulders, " you tell me" she mumbled.

Jongho felt a sting at the mention of his name again, his heart sinking. He didn’t know what to say to that—what had made him act the way he did? How had things gotten so out of hand with Yn? And why hadn’t he been able to fix it?

San looked at Yn, his expression softening slightly as he noticed her discomfort. “You don’t have to answer that,” he said gently, noticing how she avoided eye contact with him. “But if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Yn didn’t respond at first, her eyes focused on the water bottle in her hands. She was silent for a long moment before she spoke up, barely above a whisper, “I don’t know what he wants from me anymore. One minute, it’s like we’re fine, and then the next…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.

San nodded his head, " what is even worse, his girlfriend would litterally kill you if you even glanced at him"

yn rolled her eyes, a giggle leaving her body as Jongho cringed as the though of emma. " now she really hates me for no reason. I'm the reason they got together anyways. "

San chuckled as he grabbed his bag, Jongho realizing they were heading his way. Rushing to get out the way, he had bumped into Emma. The one person he was trying to avoid.

" there you are! I was looking everywhere for you, Seonghwa and Wooyoung told me that the prank on the freak was cancelled. What the fuck happen?"

Jongho froze, feeling a chill run through him at Emma's words. Her voice was loud, demanding, and the anger in her tone immediately put him on edge. He glanced at her, his heart racing. She stood in front of him, arms crossed, looking ready to tear into him for whatever reason she had cooked up in her mind.

"I—I didn't want to go through with it," Jongho muttered, trying to find the words to explain without getting sucked into her wrath. "It wasn’t right."

Emma’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "What do you mean, 'wasn’t right'?" she hissed, her voice low and threatening. "We’ve been planning this, Jongho. You’re just going to back out now because of some... what? Guilt? Did that freak do something to you?"

Jongho hissed in annoyance, guiding Emma away from the music door. Her protest going unnoticed as Jongho tried his best to hush her.

" can we not do this now?" Jongho hissed.

Emma rolled her eyes, " whatever. I don't know why you're flaking out now when we planned this weeks ago."

" i changed my mind," Jongho said, rather quickly.

Emma tsk, " was it hongjoong? Have you noticed how much he's been spending time with her?"

Jongho froze for a moment, his stomach tightening at the mention of Hongjoong. He quickly shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. "No," he said firmly, his voice betraying none of the unease he felt. "It’s not about Hongjoong. I just don't want to do this anymore."

Emma gave him a skeptical look, clearly not convinced. "Really?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're telling me it's not about her, yet you're over here trying to play the hero? What, are you in love with her now?"

Jongho winced at the accusation, but he didn’t back down. "No. It’s not like that. I just realized it’s all messed up. We’re hurting people, and for what? A stupid joke?" His voice was quieter now, the weight of his words sinking in.

Emma's expression soured, her eyes narrowing as she took a step closer to him. "So now you're all about feelings, huh?" she spat, incredulous. "You think you can just back out and expect everything to be fine? We’ve got a plan, Jongho. You don’t get to just decide you're done."

Jongho shook his head. "I don’t care about the plan anymore, Emma. I care about not making things worse for Yn. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore."

Emma let out a frustrated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. "Unbelievable," she muttered. "You really are pathetic, you know that?"

Jongho stood his ground, his frustration mounting. "I don’t care what you think about me," he said, his voice hardening. "I’m done. You can go ahead with your plan, but count me out."

For a moment, Emma just stood there, glaring at him, before she let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Fine," she said, her tone cold. "Do whatever you want. But don’t expect anyone to take you seriously after this."

Without another word, she turned and stormed off, leaving Jongho standing there, his heart pounding. He felt a sense of relief, but also dread. He had finally made the decision to stop going along with Emma’s plans, but now he had to face the consequences. He wasn’t sure what would happen next, but for the first time in a while, he felt like he was taking control of his own life.

[cantheykillmacbeth]

Could Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream kill Macbeth?

Unfortunately, from what I could find, pretty much every classic folkloric interpretation of fairies/the fey doesn't specify how new members of the species come to be, and this extends to the fairies in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. I even looked into the supposed inspirations behind Puck specifically, and none of them clarify this either. This means that UBC and BPC are ambiguous and therefore off the table.

As for the Gender Clause, Puck doesn't seem to apply for it either, at least from the research I did on it; Puck is generally referred to with he/him pronouns both in and out of the play's text. If someone more knowledgeable on A Midsummer Night's Dream knows of a point where Puck is explicitly stated to not be a man (in context of gender, not species), or any information about Shakespeare's take on fairy reproduction, then that would be great.

For now, though, until any evidence surfaces saying otherwise, Puck will be categorized as not being able to kill Macbeth. He would most likely be able to get someone else who could to do it for him, though.

Sorry! Thank you for your submission!

[halorvic]

[blueskittlesart]

cold fruit in a hot kitchen (so i had this great watermelon last weekend)

[butterflieswhisper]

looping echidna beastlife gif from trying to figure out toonboom

[mylittleredgirl]

fyi how long it takes me to post a m*a*s*h update makes it SEEM like i have a lot of self-control and am only watching one episode a day but that is incorrect. i'm watching everything like three times and rolling around in the details like a ferret let loose in the snow. i grew up in the vhs-recording 90s where you'd get two star treks and an x-file every week, and i'd get up at five in the morning to rewatch one of them before school every day AND tune in for every rerun and that has not changed. sometimes i get comments on fic like "wow your dialogue sounds just like them" YEAH it fuckin SHOULD some weeks i hear these people talk more than my own family. this is completely normal and healthy by the way

[count-woe-laf]

Hi guys! I'm so normal!!

[izzy-b-hands]

My doctor messaging me at 12:30 in the morning to tell me she wants to do a telehealth visit abt the side effects I'm having with my new Lamotrigine dose (including worse insomnia than my usual insomnia, as u may have guessed lmao) is. something.

[iamthemaestro]

screw caspari pegs all my homies hate caspari pegs

[brazilian-whalien52]

I am so upset that my host family told me they brought tickets for the ice cream festival and in the end they didn't

[aeolianblues]

being around party people when you’re not one will make you feel like the lamest piece of shit ever