#and thats not even touching on how a people are not their state and a state is not a people group
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Meet Me In the Afterglow
Pairing: Peeta Mellark X Reader
Synopsis: you’re the one who gets taken by the Capital and Peeta isn’t used to who you are when you return
Masterlist
The day finally came when you and the others taken by the Capital were brought to District 13. Peeta raced down to the infirmary as soon as he heard you were back and bumped into Haymitch.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you. Are they back?” Peeta asked.
“They’re back. But before you go in there-“
“Where is she?” Peeta cut him off and jumped in excitement. Haymitch did not share in his excitement and kept a stone cold face as he stared at Peeta.
“Kid, there’s something you should know.” Haymitch said. Peeta’s smile dropped and he felt himself get sick to his stomach.
“No.” He croaked out. “They said they found her alive.”
“No, not that. She’s not dead.” Haymitch said with a frustrated sigh.
“Well then is she hurt?”
“She’s not hurt. She’s just…she’s not doing well, okay? We’re not exactly sure what the Capital did to her but she’s not herself. I think you should give her a few days before you see her. Just until we figure out what’s going on and if it’s permanent.”
“Permanent?” Peeta repeated. “What happened to her? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Why don’t you go get something to eat and we can discuss it later?” Haymitch said and patted Peeta’s shoulder.
“No. I’m not waiting a few days to see her. I’ve waited 8 weeks. I need to see her now.” Peeta stated and pushed past Haymitch.
“Peeta.” Haymitch said warningly. Peeta ran through the infirmity and looked around for you. He made eye contact with Finnick, who solumly pointed to a room with the curtains drawn. Peeta nodded and swiftly made his way to the room. He burst inside with a huge smile and sighed in relief when he saw you sitting on a medical table with your back to him.
“You’re here.” He said breathlessly. You tensed when you heard his voice and slowly turned to face Peeta. Under the harsh florescent lighting, Peeta could see the extent of your physical injuries.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He said softly as he slowly circled around you. Your emaciated face was covered in bruises in every stage of healing. Your bloodshot eyes stared into his with an ice cold store. Peeta covered his mouth with one hand and reached for you with the other.
“What did they do to my girl?” He whispered and tried to touch your face. You smacked his hand away and as he reacted, you lunged for his neck. You slammed Peeta into a glass cabinet before throwing him onto the floor.
“What are you doing? It’s me!” He protested when you climbed on top of him.
“I know.” You said through gritted teeth and tried to strangle him again. You were quickly sedated and pulled off of him, but not before Peeta caught a glimpse of the look in your eyes. Even though he had known you for years, he didn’t recognize who he saw now. One of the attendants picked Peeta off the ground and quickly ushered him out of the room. He turned his head to look at you before the attendant pushed him out and saw you being strapped to a table. He tried to fight the people pulling him to go help you but they overpowered him. Peeta was quickly taken out of the infirmary and brought back to where Haymitch was.
“What was that? What’s wrong with her?” Peeta asked desperately. Haymitch rubbed his eyes and let out a loud sigh.
“We’re not entirely sure. The doctor said it’s called hijacking. The Capital showed her real memories and altered memories to confuse her. And they somehow made her believe that you are trying to kill her. She doesn’t know what’s real right now. Thats why I wanted you to wait.”
“Kill her? I love her. She knows that. I told her.” Peeta said through a shaky voice.
“She doesn’t know anything anymore. They completely rewired her mind. For all we know, she fully believes we’re all out to get her and the Capital is the only people she can trust.” Haymitch told him.
“What? She would never think that. How could they possibly get her to believe that?”
“They tortured her. Everyday. For 8 weeks. That’s how.”
“I told you to get her out. I told you to save her over me. You promised.” Peeta shouted at him as his sadness melted into rage.
“Getting angry at me isn’t going to fix this.” Haymitch warned. “If we want her back, we need to work with her. That means going in there and trying to remind her what’s real and what’s not.”
Peeta calmed and nodded his head. He didn’t understand what was happening so he put his trust in what Haymitch said would bring you back. The medical attendants induced you in a coma for a few days while your injuries healed and Peeta stayed with you the whole time. Even though you were unconscious and didn’t know he was there, he stayed and held your hand all day. He felt tremendous guilt for leaving you behind the first time so he wasn’t gonna leave you again. When you finally woke after a couple days, they brought Peeta to your room.
“Is this a good idea? She tried to kill me last time.” Peeta asked Haymitch.
“She’s strapped to the bed. And there will be a guard in there with you. She can’t hurt you.” Haynitch assured him.
“Okay.” Peeta nodded. The attendant opened your door for him and Peeta walked inside. When you made eye contact, you tugged on your worst restraints in an attempt to get away from Peeta. Peeta noticed this and as much as it hurt him, he didn’t mention it.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He said kindly but kept his distance.
“Why do you think you get to call me that?” You replied coldly.
“I don’t really know. I guess I’m just trying to get back to something familiar. I used to call you that in the arena sometimes. You didn’t really like it then either.” He said with a half hearted laugh. You didn’t return the laugh and instead turned your attention back to your TV. Peeta followed your gaze and realize you were watching his first interview with Cesar Flickerman.
“My interview?” He asked in surprised. You were surprised as well and looked at him skeptically.
“You remember this?”
“Yeah. That was the first time I told you I liked you. I just wish I didn’t make it so public. I should’ve told you how I felt way before the reaping. You didn’t deserve to find out that way.” Peeta said with regret as he stared at himself from a year ago on the screen. You’d been struggling to pinpoint which memories were real so to have him confirm that what he said in his interview was real made you feel slightly better.
“I wish you had told me privately too.” You said quietly.
“You do?” Peeta smiled with just an ounce of hope as he looked at you.
“Yeah. Because then Snow wouldn’t have tortured me just to hurt you.” You snapped. Peeta’s hope disappeared and he nodded in understanding.
“He tortured you because he knows I love you. Everyone knows. I was never shy about it.” Peeta said without looking at you.
“You’re just a mutt.” You sneered. “You don’t love me. You don’t love anyone.”
“That’s not true. I do love you. I always have.” Peeta said calmly. When you didn’t get the reaction you wanted from him, you disengaged.
“I watched the other interview too. From before the second games.” You said instead.
“What did you think?”
“I don’t know. Are we really married?”
“No.” Peeta shook his head. You looked confused and a little panicked to hear his answer.
“But I remember you proposing. That memory was fake?” You asked, sounding vulnerable now instead of cold. Peeta realized you were just desperate to find a few real memories to hold on to for your sanity.
“The memory was real because we staged a fake proposal for the cameras. We were never actually engaged. Or, I guess we were. But not because we wanted to be. It was a fake engagement for Snow.” He said with a tight smile.
“So there’s no baby either?”
“No. No baby. We never…” He trailed off and blushed all the way to his ears. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and then laughed meanly.
“Really? Never?”
“No.” Peeta said quietly and felt his whole face go red now.
“Wow. Whats the matter? Lover boy was too shy to get it up? Or were you just too busy making it known to everyone about how much you love me to actually take me like a man?” You asked with a condescending pout. Peeta blinked in surprise at how mean you were being and tried to remember that it wasn’t really you. It was whatever the Capital had done to you.
“That’s not nice.” He said quietly.
“Nice? I’ve been tortured everyday for the last 8 weeks because of you. So I’m sorry if I’m not nice anymore.” Your voice gradually got louder and by the end of your sentence, you tried to lunge for his neck again. Yoru restraints held you back but Peeta never flinched.
“Why aren’t you scared of me?” You genuinely wondered as you sank back into your bed.
“Because I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Yes I would.” You scoffed.
“Okay.” Peeta shrugged and walked over to your bed. You watched him closely as he undid the restraints on both your arms.
“Hurt me, then.” He said simply. Your eyes darkened and you raised your fist to swing at him, then lowered it.
“Why didn’t you fight back?” You asked quietly.
“You didn’t swing.”
“Not now. Yesterday. When I attacked you. You’re twice my size. I’ve seen you throw bags of flour one your head. I know you’re strong. You could’ve easily overpowered me. Why didn’t you?”
“Because I’d never hurt you.” Peeta stated. “Ever. I couldn’t.”
“Snow said you would. He said you’d sell me out in a second to save your own life.”
“Well that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d do anything to keep you safe. Ask Haymitch. I nearly killed him when he first told me he didn’t get you out of the arena. We had a deal that he’d save you before me.”
“Why would you make that deal?” You asked skeptically.
“Because I’d rather die than lose you.” Peeta said simply.
“Why?”
“I have nothing if I don’t have you. No one else I care about.”
“But I thought we weren’t actually together? You said it was just for the cameras.”
“We weren’t together. But I’ve loved you since I was a kid.”
“That’s just puppy love. A childhood crush doesn’t equate to love.” You pointed out.
“It was a crush at first.” He agreed. “But then I got to really know you. We became really close during training for the first games. You probably don’t remember that.”
“I do.” You admitted.
“You do?”
“On the train. We used to talk on the rooftop.” You recalled and Peeta could see the faintest trace of a smile.
“Yeah. We did.” He smiled too.
“That was before you became a soulless mutt who’s trying to get everyone in the districts killed in this rebellion.” You switched up on him and returned to your vengeful state.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do. All I care about is getting you back to normal.” Peeta told you. Something in your eyes changed and for a second, Peeta could see the real you. You looked scared and confused and most of all, trapped. Your eyes went back to your cold stare and you leaned towards him.
“Get out. Get out before I hurt you.”
“I’m not gonna leave you. I’m not gonna do that.” Peeta insisted.
“I don’t want you here. GET OUT.” You screamed at him and threw a pillow. The attendant burst in and ushered Peeta out of the room before he had a chance to react. He watched you thrashing in your bed through the window and wondered why you chose to throw a pillow and not your fists.
After another week in extensive therapy, your doctor deemed you fit to interact with the rest of the district in short increments. You were allowed into the food hall and stuck close by Johanna for a sense of familiarity. She helped you get some food and then brought you over to the table were Gale, Finnick, Annie, and Peeta were sitting. Peeta smiled in surprise when he saw you sit down but you didn’t smile back. You didn’t say anything the whole time you were sitting until Finnick and Annie got up to leave.
“Careful, Annie. If you don’t treat him right, I might try to steal him from you.” You said jokingly. No one took it as a joke because no one knew that it was one. You’d been quiet ever since being brought home minus the spiteful remark every now and then. So your joke fell flat but you weren’t looking for laughs anyway. You said it to get a rise out of Peeta and it worked because his face burned red with jealousy.
“Why would you say that?” He asked you.
“Why do you care?” You shrugged. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
“She’s right. You’re not.” Gale added. You narrowed your eyes at him when you heard this and then checked on Peeta. You could be mean to Peeta but you didn’t want anyone else to be.
“You should watch what you say to me right now.” Peeta said lowly as he glared at Gale. You smiled in delight over the drama you caused.
“Why? Give it up already. She didn’t want you before all this shit went down. Do you honestly think there’s any chance she’ll want you now? Her brain is fried. She punched a mirror this morning because she didn’t recognize her reflection. She’s just a vegetable. Let her go.” Gale said, making your smile drop. You had been told Gale was a close friend of yours so to hear him talk about you with zero regard for your feelings made you sad.
“Maybe that’s how you feel but it’s not how I feel. I know she’s in there. And I’ve loved her for years so no, I’m not just going to let her go.“ Peeta snapped and got up from the table. He was about to walk away when he turned to Gale one last time.
“She would’ve never given up on you if you were the one the Capital took.” He reminded Gale.
“I know that.” Gale said quietly with guilt in his eyes. With that, Peeta left the food hall and went to his room. He laid on his bed for a few hours and got deep into his thoughts. He went down for dinner that night and was actually relieved that he didn’t see you anywhere. When he returned to his room, you were sitting on his bed.
“Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.” He said awkwardly and stayed by the door. You had Peeta’s sketchbook open on your lap and tears in your eyes. Every page was filled with drawing after drawing of you that Peeta had made. Peeta blushed in embarrassment when he realized what you were looking at. He was even more embarrassed when you found the one he had drawn of you that morning.
“Did I love you?” You asked as you looked up at him.
“What?”
“I know you loved me, but did I love you?” You repeated. Your tone was gentle this time so he didn’t correct you for using love in the past tense.
“Honestly, I was really sure.” He admitted. “I don’t think you knew either.”
“But did it seem like I was?”
“When cameras were on us, yes. And sometimes when it was just you and me. Those were my favorite moments, actually. The ones that were just between us. I felt more love in our private conversations than in our public confessions.” He told you. You nodded as if that’s exactly what you thought he would say. You flipped through a few more drawings and touched one that was of the two of you.
“I’m sorry I was mean to you.” You said quietly. Peeta couldn’t help but laugh at that and felt himself relax.
“What?” You wondered.
“Sorry. It’s just so you to call throwing me into a glass cabinet “mean”.”
“That’s something I would say?” You smiled slightly and allowed yourself some hope.
“Absolutely.” He nodded. “You’re very smart but you have a way of getting that across in as few words as possible.”
“That’s good I guess. That I sound like me.”
“It is good. I means you’re still in there somewhere.” He smiled softly. You stared at him for a moment and then patted the space next to you. Peeta practically ran to sit next to you on the bed and gave you his full attention.
“I’m having a hard time figuring out what’s real and what’s fake. But I’m realizing that the altered memories have this shiny film over them. My real ones don’t.”
“What’s in the shiny memories?” He asked you.
“You hurting me. Leading the careers to me in the first games. Abandoning me in the area as it burnt down. Throwing bread at me.”
“That last one’s real. That was to feed you.”
“Oh. Thank you, then. For that.” You said stiffly.
“You’re very welcome. So how many real memories have you figured out?”
“I remember making a book with you.”
“Yes.” He smiled in surprise. “We made a book about all the plants in district 12. That was when you hurt your ankle.”
“Because I always hopped over the fence instead of crawling under.” You recalled, making Peeta’s smile grow.
“That’s right! You did. I never understood why.”
“It was a few seconds faster and I got less dirt on my pants. My mom wouldn’t have to wash them as much so I told myself I was less of a burden if I jumped over instead of go under.” You said without even thinking about it. You didn’t realized you had that memory in you and smiled when you heard it come out of your mouth.
“That’s good. Thats a solid memory.”Peeta encouraged you.
“I remember you taking care of me when I had to stay off my foot. And feeing me that weird soup.”
“The hazelnut soup.” He chuckled. “I never liked it either. I’m pretty sure I was feeding you that because my mother made it and I didn’t want it.”
You cracked up laughing at how honest he was. Peeta laughed as well, then felt himself tear up.
“I haven’t heard your laugh in over a month.” He said in a wavering voice.
“Me either.” You realized. You were both quiet for a moment and avoided making eye contact as you stared down at his sketchbook.
“I’m scared I’m never gonna get back to who I was.” You said quietly.
“I’m honestly scared of that too.” Peeta admitted. To his surprise, you smiled a little at his answer. You expected him to lie to you and give you the same sugar coated answers the medical attendants had been giving you about what your future held, but Peeta didn’t do that.
“You know what’s been making it hard to decipher what’s real?” You asked him.
“What?”
“If these memories of you and me are real, I don’t understand why I wasn’t in love with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean half my memories of you, the ones they didn’t alter, are just you existing. I have memories of you sitting. Or looking out a window. Or focused on your eyelashes or hands or crooked smile. We’re not even interacting in some of them. I guess I was just always looking at you. Always memorizing you. And they couldn’t touch those memories. They didn’t know they were in there.”
“Neither did it.” Peeta said in a soft voice. You looked into his eyes and this time, he saw someone he recognized.
And you did too.
Peeta taglist 🥖
@ilovetoomanymen
#peeta mellark whump#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark fluff#peeta mellark x you#peeta mellark fanfic#peeta mellark angst#peeta x reader#peeta mellark fanfiction
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hi. reminder/psa for ADHD rivulet.
i recently had a discussion about headcanoning rivulet with ADHD. we discussed about how most portrayals of it are.... Terrible. lets talk about that.
"what do you mean?"
rivulet is often seen as the "ADHD slugcat" however. most of the portrayals that ive seen of rivulet having ADHD is because theyre an "energetic/speedy/hyper slugcat" or have "big eyes that looks neurodivergent" and thats all the ADHD trait that rivulet has. in which both of these reasons are just straight up terrible.
"why is this terrible?"
this portrayal of a speedy slugcat having ADHD just because theyre energetic/hyper is stereotypical. its harmful and doesnt actually show what ADHD is. there are more to ADHD than just being really hyper and impulsive. some of the stuff ive seen even infantilizes rivulet to an "owo cute hyperactive slugcat" which is gross!
"how can i make my ADHD rivulet better?"
first off, ADHD is actually a really overwhelming disorder. it can make you extremely sensitive to things whether it be touch, sound, texture, taste etc.
it can make you have sensory overload. you can feel overstimulated because of too many things! but you can also be understimulated when theres not much stuff happening. understimulation is NOT just boredom. it can leave you irritated for hours on end, and feeling unsatisifed with the things you do. and sometimes even feeling hopeless.
your emotions with ADHD are way worse too. theyre usually more sensitive and hard to control, rapidly changing and hard to predict. and with the already overwhelming issues from the previous point, yeah, its not great.
it can make your thoughts race or blank out, which makes it almost impossible to focus. it leaves you feeling frustrated because you are unable to finish your current task, even if it seems easy, like cleaning the dishes or making the bed. they are extremely overwhelming for a pw/ADHD. again, with all of the sensory issues mentioned.
ADHD also makes you very forgetful and prone to misremember even the most important things, such as meetings, work to do, etc etc.
and of course, hyperactivity. this also just sucks because you are unable to control yourself during bursts of hyperactivities and it makes you exhausted right after it happens. you might also potentially hurt yourself because being hyper can make you impulsive and do risky things.
plus so many more! ADHD has so many issues with it that i just urge you to research about it more before headcanoning rivulet as a slugcat with ADHD. (or any character with ADHD really.) but these are the main issues that me and the people i know w/ADHD has experienced.
im not saying that its wrong to have your rivulet as energetic/hyper/silly or with ADHD in general of course, no no no!, in fact its completely fine! but just please keep in mind when you are explictedly stating that your rivulet has adhd, dont give them only the hyperactivity trait and nothing else. dont call an energetic rivulet an "ADHD slugcat" just because its.....energetic. dont make ADHD this cutesy disorder that makes you excited and silly, because in reality, its really not.
thank you for listening to me ramble. its something thats been bothering me for a bit.
#post#psa#rain world#rain world downpour#rain world rivulet#rw rivulet#rainworld#adhd#slugcat#slugcats#tbh. i was dissociating when i wrote all of this so i hope this makes sense#also i will not get into any discourse. its just what i wanted to say. thank you
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How about cuddling headcanons for Adam, Mammon, and Alastor? I'm in need of snuggles.
♡ Mammon, Adam & Alastor Cuddling Hcs ♡
Note: YESSS I LOVE SNUGGLES!!!! And ty for requesting, so here are my thoughts! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Female!Reader, AFAB
Warnings: Sexual themes, thats all!
Mammon ♡:
Always the big spoon. He is super clingy, but only a few times will he ever little spoon.
When he is a big spoon, he likes smelling you. I know it sounds a bit strange, but he likes your natural scent. So he will sniff your hair, neck, etc.
When he is rarely a little spoon, he will just lay there while you wrap your arms around his neck. It looks silly since he is so large, but you two manage to make it work. (or atleast he forces you to)
He comes home really late at night. So he thinks your so cute when he comes home and find you asleep without him. So he will place you on his chest and stomach, and fall asleep with you.
A little secret between the two of you, he likes when you baby and coddle him. Like telling him stories, etc, But if you ever mention it to anybody else, he will go full on ballistic on you.
He likes to use your boobs as pillows. If they are big or small, he just likes laying on your chest. It helps him fall asleep easier, even though he is an extremely heavy sleeper.
His favorite cuddling position is you laying ontop of him. He likes how easily he can see you, and how he can touch you, and run his hands over your warm body easily.
If he is upset, all he wants is your hands massaging or wrapping around his (nonexistent) neck :(
If you try to get up, he wont let you. He'll trap you in his four arms. Even when he is asleep he knows whenever you are about to get up. He wont let you get up to even go to the bathroom, so you might as well just pee your pants at this point. He has a certain reflex.
"Nooo stay.... five more minutes, cmon sweets...."
However, if he needs to move, he wont hesitate to get up and just let you fall.
He prefers if you are wearing less clothing while cuddling. Not like fully naked, but in a bra and underwear. He likes how your in a relaxed state. Him on the other hand, he will sleep fully clothed. He likes to feel your natural warmth, since he is naturally cold.
He also likes trapping his head in your thighs. They are nice and warm for him, and sooo comfy. Like if you two are watching TV, or if he is rambling on about basically anything that annoys him- (which is everything at this point)
Wont make anything sexual unless you initiate. Its not like he isnt horny (trust me, he is quite a bit), But he just gets lazy sometimes...
Cuddles in his webs. He will make a cute little fort for you out of pillows and webs to make you comfortable and eased for him if you are alone.
He hates when people try to get in his way of you and your daily cuddles. Will drop anything and everything to cuddle with you.
His favorite places to cuddle are on his big webs at the stadium, or alone in bed. He wont flat out cuddle you in the webs, but will get very comfortable.
He will have you snuggle up to hip, one of his left arms on top of your head, the other around your waist.
Overall, he is stubborn when it comes to getting his way during cuddling, but he makes it somewhat enjoyable.
Some things he will say:
"Babe, c'mere for a second. I need your company right now, hm?"
"Awh, your such a good girl, you're so cute layin' on me like this"
"Just gonna take one photo, hope you dont mind sweets...."
"Your gonna let daddy lay on your thighs, yeah?"
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Adam ♡:
Switch between big and little spoon. Also super clingy, even more so that Mammon. So he always has to be touching you in some way.
When he is big spoon, he likes resting his head in the crook of your neck. It relaxes him to an extent, since he has ALOT of anger issues...
When he is little spoon, he likes to feel you hold him. It makes him feel safe with you, and like all of his problems are lifted.
If you try to get up, he will start complaining and whining like a child.
"ughhh noo babe... come back...god damnit..."
His favorite cuddling position is you laying face up on his chest, with one leg up like this. Because he likes to see all of his favorite assets.
Speaking of assets, he likes your ass. Grabbing it, especially in this position. He will run his hand over it with one hand, and give it the occasional slap.
Or he will put his hands down your shirt/bra and just cup your breasts, and leave his hands there. Not even moving them.
Another one of his favorite ways to cuddle with you is by laying his head on your ass. He will literally just lay there, and act liek nothing is wrong with it. Like before bed, watching TV, he will even make you do it if he is in his office.
His favorite thing to see you wear when cuddling is an oversized t shirt w/ no bra, and panties. He thinks you look cozy, and a plus if you wear one of his shirts. Or one of his robes/any of his clothing.
He is a super heavy sleeper. He snores really really loud. You literally have to use an airhorn to wake him up. He also sleeps with his mouth hanging open.
As I have said before, he will somehow turn everything sexual, including simple cuddling. You could by nuzzling into him all cute, and he would start to run his hands in your panties. -_-
Hes a chatterbox. Even when he sleeps, he sleeptalks. He will blab on about his day, how annoying some people are, how sera is a real bitch-
SO you physically have to cover his mouth with your hand.
Does not like taking his mask off, but you are a rare exeption. He just feels so comfortable around you, and he loooves the feeling of your hands raking through his hair. It gets him to shut up really fast.
But overall, he is actually really enjoyable to be around, especially when cuddling. Just don't get too attached, because then he wont leave you alone.
Some things he will say:
"Please? Lets just lay down for a bit babe, im tired."
"Ughhh just stay do you have to go to the bathroom every 5 seconds?"
"If you leave im gonna be very upset y/n." :(
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Alastor ♡:
Always the big spoon. He just likes the feeling of you laying with him, and being able to hold you innocently.
His favorite part about cuddling is feeling your skin flush again his. He in general does not enjoy being touched, but by you? You are lucky to be considered the only exeption.
He likes when you play with his ears sometimes. Most of the time he wont let you, but when he is feeling docile he likes feeling your fingers rub and scratch the base of his ears. Never his antlers though.
Or when you rest your head against his chest. He cant help but bring a hand up to your back and affectionately sooth it.
If you try to get up, he also will not let you. Unless you have to go to the bathroom, he will accompany you since he is a gentleman. (in his mind, that is a gentlemanly thing to do.)
"Sweetheart, do you need to get up? Here, let me join you."
His favorite position is the classic hold from behind. He sleeps with his eyes open, so it helps if you are not scared by him and facing away...
He enjoys holding you affectionately, and being so vulnerable around you. You can also hear gentle radio static that sounds like white noise.
Places he likes to cuddle are his bed, chair up in his radio tower, and on the couch occasionally. And only if he is sure nobody is around.
Alastor is a very private person, especially with you. He prefers to keep his love life and cuddling activities secluded.
His favorite thing to see you wear is a silk robe, either red or white. He thinks you look elegant and very attractive to him. He likes the feeling of the silk against him, which soothes him for some reason.
He never takes cuddling and makes it sexual. Even if you were to initiate, he would play dumb and act like he doesn't know what you are trying to do. He just hates ruining he moment with his darling.
Meaning he takes snuggling with you very seriously. He will drop everything to nuzzle up to you. He acts like it doesn't faze him, but really it does in only a way you can do.
Here are some things he will say to you:
"Darling, how about you and I relax for a little bit? It may ease your nerves."
"Sweetheart, are you asleep? Oh dont you just look adorable."
"Hm, how about you get up now? Its been a little while, my dear."
So overall, snuggling with him gets you really relaxed, but he has a make staring problem if you don't mind...
#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#mammon x reader#mammon x reader hb#hb mammon x reader#mammon#mammon x y/n#adam x reader#mammon hb#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor hazbin#alastor x you#adam x you#adam x y/n#adam hazbin#mammon fluff#mammon x you#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#helluva boss x reader#helluva boss fluff
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GREEN TIE / mattheo riddle
mattheo riddle x fem reader
summary: you and mattheo attend the yule ball separately after breaking up (we’re pretending the yule ball happens every year <3)
warnings: exes to lovers, angst (?), SMUT, face sitting/riding, piv, unprotected sex (they have magic, you don’t. wrap it!), mirror sex, breeding kink if you squint, praise and degradation, creampie, dom!mattheo, profanity, use of y/n, i think thats it but let me know if you notice anything else <3
words: 4.6k
“Find your partners and follow my lead,” McGonnagall’s voice rings through the room. You groan internally. Who the hell are you supposed to dance with?
At the dancing lessons for the Yule Ball throughout the past few weeks, you and your perfect boyfriend, Mattheo, had practiced together. The two of you had gone together last year as well, and the night was quite literally magical. It’s safe to say that last year’s experience really set your expectations as high as possible. The idea of experiencing that same magic again made your heart flutter with excitement. You couldn’t wait.
That was until Mattheo Riddle crushed those dreams.
Yeah, he broke up with you last week. Completely crushed your spirit. Now you have to go to the ball alone.
He’s not even here right now. Merlin knows how the hell he got out of dance practices, but he’s not here and to be honest, you’re grateful because if he was, you’d have to dance with him and that just would have been awkward.
Adrien Pucey takes notice of your lonely presence from across the room and quickly approaches, somehow oblivious to the clear grimace on your face. What choice do you have? Everyone else already has a partner.
So, you give in and try your best to keep up a polite front, taking his hand and stepping to the music, despite the burning sensation on your skin every time he touches you. It’s not a good burn like when Mattheo touched you. It doesn’t make you want to ignite the rest of your body with those flames. It makes you want to drown yourself in the Black Lake just to get away from this guy. Dancing with anyone but Mattheo feels inherently wrong. Mattheo’s hands were always cold. Pucey’s hands are warm and it’s nauseating.
You’d never really spoken to Adrien too much before but from this single dance, you’d learned one thing about him: he never stops talking.
Practically beaming with relief once it’s over, your feet carry you away before you can even realize where you’re walking, ears unconsciously tuning out the sound of Adrien yelling after you.
When you and Mattheo were dating, the whole school knew that you were off limits, Mattheo had made that abundantly clear. Boys were nervous to even think about you in the wrong way, afraid that Mattheo would somehow sneak into their minds and find out. Once the news that you two broke up spread, people were practically throwing themselves at the two of you. You could only hope that Mattheo wasn’t interested in those girls the same way you still weren’t interested in other boys.
“Get me out of here,” you whine as you grab Astoria’s wrist tightly in your hand, dragging her out of the crowded room.
After dinner in the Great Hall, you’re speed walking down the corridors back to your dorm. This was actually a great feat. For days on end, you’d been so wrecked that you could hardly get out of bed, much less leave your dorm for anything other than classes with your red eyes and messy haired state. Astoria and Pansy had been bringing you your meals. So the fact that you finally went to the Great Hall today is an accomplishment.
“Y/n! Wait!” You freeze in your tracks. God, please no. Please tell me that’s not his voice.
“Slow down. I need to talk to you, dove.” Shit, it is him.
Wait, how dare he call you that? He knows how much that nickname makes your heart melt. He can’t just go around calling you that after breaking your heart. It’s not fair.
“Do not call me that. What do you want?” You say, careful to keep your voice cold as you turn around to face him.
“Don’t be like that, dove.” Oh, screw him. “I just… I heard you’re not doing well. Hardly eating, barely sleeping, you never leave your dorm. I didn’t mean to—”
“Well, you did. That’s kind of what happens when you get dumped with no explanation.” You snap and he flinches.
“I did give you an explanation.” He counters and you feel like your head is going to explode. “Did you? My bad, it felt like a dumb excuse to get away from me. Maybe I just heard it wrong,” The sarcasm in your voice is unmistakable.
“We were toxic and you know it. I’m toxic. You deserve better.” He says softly, giving you the same shitty excuse again.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. If you’re bored of me, just say that. Don’t make up some idiotic excuse about how you’re not good enough for me because if it was really that way, you’d love me enough to be better for me.”
He looks like a kicked puppy. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are soft and vulnerable and he has the cutest frown on his face that you just want to kiss away. But you can’t. He sighs, gathering the strength to speak again.
“Take proper care of yourself, please. If not for yourself, then for me.” And with that, he leaves. You’re left alone in the empty hallway, your hand over your heart that seems to be aching harder than it was before.
The ball is tonight. Mattheo has a date, you heard. Hardly 2 weeks after the breakup and he’s already got another girl hanging off his arm.
Your mind refuses to process the information. He dated you for a year. He still seems to be concerned about your well being. So how did he move on so easily? It’s not fair that you’re hurting while he’s enjoying his time with some other girl.
You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of these thoughts. Your beautifully styled hair cascades over your shoulders, emerald green dress flowing around you. You’d considered not going to the ball at all, but eventually decided against it, your girls telling you that you couldn’t miss out on this just because of your ex.
“You look beautiful as ever, Y/n/n.” For someone who can’t go 10 seconds without being sarcastic, Astoria sounds uncharacteristically genuine right now. You give her a soft smile. “Thank you, Tori. You look beautiful too.”
“Come on, we’re gonna be late!” Pansy ushers the three of you out of the room.
By the time you get down to the ballroom, Mattheo’s already there with his date. You’d tried your hardest not to search for him in the crowd, knowing it’d only hurt, but of course, you gave into temptation. The girl was completely unfamiliar. You’d never seen her before. Could he really not have found anyone less irrelevant?
Still, your face falls and Pansy follows your line of sight, falling on Mattheo who has his arm around some girl in a red dress. You’d worn a red dress to the ball last year and you can’t help but wonder if he remembers.
Pansy steps in front of you, blocking your view. “You look better than her.” This makes you giggle. You know it’s wrong to say things like that, but in this moment of insecurity, the reassurance feels nice.
“Don’t let it get to your head. He’s not worth it.” She takes your hand and leads you to your table, but not before you take one last glance in Mattheo’s direction. This time, you notice something that makes your heart stop.
He’s wearing a green tie.
His date is in a red dress. He’s wearing a green tie. And you… you are in a green dress.
Oh my God?
Before you’d broken up, you’d planned out your outfits for the ball and obviously, his tie had to match your dress. But you didn’t expect him to still wear it after he dumped you.
Maybe you’re reading too far into it. Maybe he just couldn’t find a red tie? Maybe he couldn't find any other tie at all? No, it can’t be. He had to have done it on purpose.
You tear your eyes away from him and walk away. Mattheo, meanwhile, is dying on the inside. The second he stepped into the ballroom, his mind was flooded with memories.
Memories of last year at the Yule Ball with Y/n, his Y/n. Her long red dress with the slit on the side and the off the shoulder sleeves and the sparkles at the top. He remembered every detail of that dress. She was always gorgeous, but he was sure she'd never looked more beautiful than she did that night, and it wasn’t only because she was all done up. It was because she had this excitement that night, this dazzling smile on her face. He was hypnotized.
No other girl compared to her. Every other dress looked like a damn dishrag in his mind compared to you. All night, the only question in his mind was, “How did I get this lucky?”
He remembered dancing with you that night. It was early in your relationship, you hadn’t even had your first kiss together yet. It was still easy for him to make you blush. You giggled at every stupid word, every corny pick up line he whispered in your ear.
“That dress looks uncomfortable. You should let me take it off of you.” He’d whispered with a wink as you waltzed and you’d blessed him with the angelic sound of your laugh, shushing him. He kept stepping on the ends of your expensive dress, but it was even because you kept stepping on his shoes with your heels. You blushed in embarrassment every time and he’d have to pry your hands away from your shy face.
You’d bumped into people while dancing but you were too wrapped up in each other to be embarrassed or to even notice. Mattheo flipped off anyone who stared or gave you weird looks for laughing too loud.
“Don’t mess up my makeup. I spent an hour on it.” You’d told him, to which he’d smiled mischievously and ended up kissing your cheek. It was only at that end of the night, after he’d walked you back to your dorm whilst carrying your heels, that he’d kissed you for the first time with his hands on the soft, supple skin of your face. The way you’d stared at him with your cute doe eyes, full of wonder and joy, after he’d pulled away is forever engraved in his brain. Your eyes were wide and your cheeks were red and in Mattheo’s opinion, you’d never looked more adorable. He remembered looking down at you and seeing the glow of your makeup in the dimly lit dorm halls. God, you had him mesmerized.
But that was over now. He has a different girl on his arm now. He should at least try to enjoy his night, right?
He looks at the girl only to find her already staring at him and as guilty as he feels for it, all he can think is that she can’t hold a candle to Y/n. Not to her beauty, her wit, her humor, her soft voice, her captivating eyes, her radiant smile. Nothing.
His eyes mindlessly wander around the room and land on Y/n for the first time and suddenly he’s floored. He’s frozen, butterflies flying from his stomach and up his throat.
He hadn’t seen you in your dress before. He thought that you in your red dress at last year’s ball was the most beautiful you’d ever looked. Oh, how wrong he was.
You look unreal tonight. He can’t help but wonder if you even came from this planet. Is it possible for a human being to be so perfect?
The only thing missing is that radiant smile you showed off last year, the one he was so used to seeing grace your pretty face every time he walked into a room with you in it.
Now, you just look… bored. Empty, even. And he wishes he could put back the smile that he stole from you. You look incomplete without it.
His own stupid self-sabotaging tendencies are the reason why he’s not dancing with you right now and he hates himself for it. He knows he’s nowhere near good enough for you, but is it so wrong to be selfish? He is just a man, after all.
The night goes by miserably for the both of you. You, sitting alone at your table, occasionally walking over to get some punch, and Mattheo, dancing with a girl who he guiltily pretends is you.
Occasionally, you’d make eye contact and you wouldn’t even bother to hide the pain in your eyes, looking from him to the girl beside him. You hope he feels bad.
He does.
Picking at your freshly done nails, you huff in boredom. Glancing up, you notice something strange. Pansy’s talking to Theodore in the corner of the room? Well, it’s not too strange, I guess, but it’s interesting. Pansy stopped talking to Theo as a sign of loyalty to you, since Theo was Mattheo’s best friend. So what could they possibly be talking about?
The night is filled with tension filled staring and lingering glances with Mattheo and suddenly, you’ve had enough of sitting around, informing Pansy that you’re leaving. She frowns in disappointment.
“Hold on, just one more dance. Please?” She gives you her puppy dog eyes and you sigh, giving in. Pansy drags you to the dance floor where the two of you move together to the upbeat music, when suddenly, a slow song starts playing. You sigh, turning to leave when Pansy grabs your hand. “Nuh uh, just dance with me.” She tells you, putting her hands on your waist.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion but don’t object.
Her smile turns from gleeful to apologetic within a second. “Hey, I’m really sorry.” She winks at you and now you’re more confused than ever. “What?” You ask but before you can get a response, you’re being shoved away. You stumble over your dress and your back crashes into some guy's chest, his hands instantly finding your shoulders to steady you.
“I’m so sorry, I—” You start but cut yourself off when you recognize the scent of the cologne behind you. You turn around to find your ex-boyfriend who seems to be glaring at Pansy behind you. You weren’t supposed to push her that damn hard, He thinks.
“Sorry,” You repeat bluntly before trying to walk away but he catches your arm. “Don’t walk away.” He tells you, his voice firm but you can hear an underlying sense of… desperation?
“Having fun with your date?” You ask bitterly, a petty smile on your face. It seems you couldn’t care less that you were on the dance floor in the middle of a bunch of people. You were ready to argue right here, right now. His jaw clenches in frustration. “No.” He answers simply.
“No? Seemed like you were enjoying yourself to me.” You tell him. You know that’s not true, even you could admit that he looked miserable all night, but you were caught up in jealousy. What could you do?
“Y/n, she’s nothing to me.”
You just scoff. “Yeah, right. You know, I actually don’t doubt that. Clearly you have a way of getting girls to believe they mean something to you only for you to drop them like they’re nothing.” You practically rip your arm out of his grasp and walk away, leaving the ballroom. He follows you outside into the courtyard.
“Dove, please. Listen to me,” he begs.
You don’t reply as you just keep walking.
“I love you!” He shouts in a desperate attempt to get you to stop running from him.
And you stop in your tracks. You can’t move. Your limbs are frozen. Why can’t you move? Move!
Taking advantage of your solid state, he walks to you and stands in front of you, taking your face in his hands. Suddenly, you’re teary eyed.
“I love you.” He reiterates in a whisper. “I still do.”
You swallow hard. Why is your chest burning? Is it hope or is it anger?
“Let me explain, okay? I wanted to be here with you tonight. That girl… She’s just a distraction. I thought… I thought that if I came with someone else, maybe I’d get you out of my head, but it only made it worse, baby.” He says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Your stomach flips at the pet name.
“I hate that I took that beautiful smile off of your face. You look fucking stunning, dove. But you don’t look right without your pretty smile… I’m so fucking sorry I broke your heart. I thought I was doing it for your own good but you’re hurting now and that hurts me. Look, baby, I’m not good enough for you. I know that. But for once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna let myself be selfish. Please come back to me.”
You’re left in silence, stunned, lips parted to say something but you can’t fucking speak.
“My arms feel empty without you in them.” He whispers. “Say something, please. Don’t let me get my hopes up.” He sounds so sad but his eyes are so big and hopeful.
Fuck. Did you ever really believe you stood a chance against his charm? Of course, you’d give in.
You lean up and place the softest, most tender kiss possible on his cheek and his eyes widen. The most beautiful smile graces his lips and he kisses you as if he’s never done it before, like he’d never get the chance to do it again.
You kiss him back feverishly, hands running through his tousled curls and his hands squeeze your hips. The kiss quickly becomes hungry, passionate, desperate, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck. When you pull away, it’s only because you need air. Breathless, you rest your forehead against his.
“Baby… Let me show you just how much I love this dress on you. Let me show you how beautiful you are.” His voice is husky and raw and you can’t help the heat that rushes between your legs.
You nod vigorously and he takes your hand, walking you towards his dorm but your heels are slowing you down far too much for his impatient self. Without warning, he picks you up bridal style and takes you to his dorm, holding your heels in his other hand.
He lets you down and locks the door the second you get in before walking you over to the floor length mirror by his bed, standing behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder as you stare at yourselves in the mirror. His hands run up and down your body, running over the silk material of your dress.
“How did I survive two weeks without touching you?” He murmurs in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. “You see how fuckin’ beautiful you look? You couldn’t expect me to control myself all night.”
His hand goes to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulder before undoing the back and letting the dress fall down, the green silk pooling around your ankles.
“Two weeks without this sight… Why did I do that to myself?” You’re sure he’s practically talking to himself at this point, but you don’t mind, enjoying the feeling and the sight of his fingers grazing over your hardening nipples in the mirror.
“I’m gonna fuck you right in front of this mirror so you can see how perfect you are… So you can see that no other girl, especially not my little date that you were so jealous of, could ever compare to you…” Standing behind you, his chest pressed against your now bare back, he placed kisses on your neck and down to your shoulder before shedding off his jacket and button up.
His index and middle finger travel to your jaw, turning your head to the side so he can kiss your perfect lips. His tongue grazes over your bottom lip while his hand squeezes your tit, eliciting a gasp from you and he slides his tongue in between your lips, exploring your mouth.
He kisses you as if to make up for the time that he couldn’t, as if those two weeks were an eternity of being away from you. To him, that’s what it felt like.
His mouth trails down from your lips to your jaw and to your neck, lightly sucking and leaving wet kisses. One hand stays firmly placed on your breast while the other wanders down your belly, to between your legs. You gasp, watching in the mirror. His fingers push your panties to the side and run over your soaked folds, teasing and stroking lightly but never entering you.
“Mattheo…” You murmur, staring at his biceps in the mirror, your eyes wandering down to the bulge in his pants, making it obvious that you want him naked too.
“Shh, baby. We’re gonna take it slow this time, okay? I’m gonna show you just how much I missed you.” He kisses your temple before laying down on the bed, flat on his back.
“You know what to do, dove.” He murmurs and your breath hitches. You quickly strip off your panties and move to straddle his face between your legs. You hover over him hesitantly and he senses your uncertainty.
“Relax, baby. I’ve got you.” He encourages you, rubbing his hands on your thighs soothingly. “Sit.” He demands, his voice gentle but firm.
You give in, slowly sinking down and his hands are instantly on your ass, urging you closer to him. He groans appreciatively as he feels the full weight of your pussy against his face. His tongue flicks against your clit before licking a long stripe up your slit, exploring deeper. His hands move to your inner thighs, kneading the muscle gently as he continues to worship your womanhood. You stare at yourself in the mirror as you ride his face.
“Fuck, Matt,” You lose yourself in pleasure, grinding against his face and he moans into your pussy, the vibrations driving you wild. His tongue circles your entrance and you let out a soft gasp.
His ministrations never falter, it seems like he could never get tired of tasting you. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of it in the mirror and you feel like you could cum just looking at it.
His tongue darts in and out of your pussy bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He sucks on your clit, sending waves of ecstasy through your body, your moans and cries of delight only encouraging him to continue his sensual assault on your cunt. Your breathing turns shallow, struggling to hold yourself back as he fucks you with his tongue.
“ ’m gonna cum, Matty,” You mumble, too dazed to think straight. Mattheo’s mouth waters as he feels your juices drip down his chin while he continues to feast on your cunt. His hands squeeze your ass tight, encouraging you to ride his face harder, savoring the taste of his work. “Cum for me, baby.” He whispers sweetly, hot breath against your cunt.
You let go and come all over his mouth while he works to swallow every drop. You pant, finally looking away from the mirror as you get off of him. He smiles at you from below before sitting up and kissing you deeply, making sure you can taste yourself on his lips.
“You taste like heaven, dove.” He tells you, stroking your cheek gently as he watches your pretty face in its post-orgasmic grace.
“Need your cock, Matty.” You mumble.
“Oh, do you, now? Two weeks and you’re this desperate to be fucked? You really are my little cockslut, aren’t you?” He coos at you and you look away, embarrassed knowing that he’s right.
While he strips off his dress pants, you get on all fours, ready for him to take you from behind, facing the headboard. His hand finds purchase on your hip and flips you over to the other side of the bed so you’re facing the mirror.
“Know just what to do, don't you? Such a good girl. But, now I want you to watch me as I fuck you so hard, you can’t see straight.” He tells you, positioning himself behind you. His hand presses down on your lower back, urging you to arch.
“You ready?” He asks, running his tip over your folds and teasing you. You nod desperately. “Words, baby.” He commands.
“I’m ready, just please fuck me, Matty.” You whine desperately. He gives a dark chuckle before sliding in without warning, watching carefully in the mirror as your face scrunches up in pleasure.
He leans down to place a tender kiss on your head as his thrusts speed up. You feel a shift in motion as Mattheo starts to move faster inside you, his hips slamming against your ass. Your head falls forward as you feel your brain turning to mush in mind-numbing pleasure. His hand grasps you by the hair and pulls your head up so you’re forced to watch him fuck you from behind in the mirror. His other hand slides down to your chest, rolling and pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefingers.
“You see how fuckin’ pretty you look like this?” He asks, his voice soft yet hoarse as he stares you in the eyes. “Couldn’t ever live without this.” He groans.
“Talk to me, princess. Tell me how it feels.” He says it like he absolutely needs to hear it from you. “So good… Y’fuck me so good, Mattheo.” Your words come out in incoherent babbles and he smiles, loving how dumb he can make you.
His hand travels down your body, finding its way between your legs and rubbing at your clit while each movement of his thrusts push him deeper inside you.
“I’m close.” You warn him. “I know. I can feel your pussy fucking squeezing me.” His voice sounds strained, like he’s holding back.
He lets go of your hair to bring his hand down to your stomach, just below your navel, pressing down on the bulge in your stomach made by his dick. “You feel me, baby?” He pants, his voice husky.
You nod, a few tears streaming down your face, makeup ruined. “Feels so good, Matty.” You whimper.
”Who does this tight little cunt belong to?” He asks.
“You!” You moan, his length stroking your walls. You can feel his head brushing your cervix repeatedly.
”And who does this cock belong to?” he asks. You’re so cockdrunk that you can hardly think straight but you know you have to answer his question if you want him to let you cum.
“Me. It belongs to me.” You tell him. He smiles, watching as your eyes roll back in your head.
“Let go for me, baby.” He tells you and you immediately do, cumming all over his cock. He keeps fucking you, working towards his own orgasm and soon enough, he shoots his load deep inside of you before pulling out and peppering soft kisses all over your bare back.
“I missed you, Matty.” You mumble, letting yourself collapse forward on the bed, to which he chuckles, gently running his fingers down your back. His eyes are trained on your pussy and he uses his fingers to stuff his cum back inside you before it can leak out, your body jolting at the sensation.
“Not as much as I missed you, baby.” He kisses your cheek, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.
Your eyes fall on his discarded green tie on the floor next to your green dress. You smile.
He never stopped being yours.
first fic! i lowkey hate it and this is my first time writing smut so i apologize if its a bit awkward or confusing 😕💔 thank you sm for reading !! 💘
#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys#benjamin wadsworth#marcus lopez arguello#slytherin#harry potter#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#theodore nott#theo nott#mattheo riddle x you
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𝐄!𝟒𝟐 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
Prowler Miles x shy Fem!Black Reader
Including: aged up!characters, sweet yet flirty miles, use of nicknames/pet names: mami, ma, doll, baby, princesa, uncle Aron being funny, overprotective miles, use of Spanish
🎸: 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐦- 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝐟𝐭. 𝐘𝐆
FIRST WEEKS DATING
Makes sure your okay and comfortable 24/7, he might look scary but nonetheless he always makes sure your safe.
Always picks up on the 2nd ring when you call him, no matter what time of day (unless when he’s out being the prowler) he always picks up even if its just you calling because you can’t sleep.
Gives you self defense weapons, he almost laughs when he sees you holding a heavy Bo-staff making you pout slightly before he eases up on the teasing and just gives you a taser an alarm.
Tells you to not be out late at night without letting him know (so he can avoid that area)
Acts as your guard dog whenever you two go out, making sure that whenever you step into a place people know your with him
When you finally sat down with Miles’s mom and Uncle for dinner, Rio was happy to see that you spoke Spanish as well. (And of course you called her Ms.Morales)
Uncle Aron winked at Miles when he told everyone he was happy he brought home, ‘A pinky pie.’ Which made him roll his eyes, before discreetly holding your hand from under the table.
Teaches you a bit of self defense which then led to him pinning you to the wall, and your first kiss. Which was shortly ended by Aron, who interrupted the kiss to remind miles to pay up for losing a bet. (Aron said that miles was soo whipped for you that he couldn’t go a month without kissing you, which an defensive miles denies. Which started the bet that he inevitably lost)
Doesn’t tell you he’s the prowler unless you find out, besides that he waits to tell you until wayy later.
FIRST COUPLE MONTHS
Gets more comfortable with you, starts calling you his girl more openly
Becomes more soft around you: Starts pulling you into hugs randomly and kisses for no reason, kissing your knuckles when your first waking up.
Like hobie he has to be touching you in some type of way, if you both have a sleepover or he falls asleep while hanging out with you, his arm has to be around your waist/ holding your hand. He feels more comfortable knowing that your locked in his hold.
Very very very light sleeper, since yk prowler biz and all. If your trying to creep out of bed in the middle of the night forget abt it, the slightest feeling of you leaving his grasp wakes him up. And you’re met with a, “What you doin doll?”
Leaves his hoodies and shirts at your place when he’s out being the prowler, he knows you like wearing his clothes especially the smell of the expensive cologne on them, and he loves seeing you in them when he inevitably comes back to check up on you.
SPOILS TF OUTTA YOU, little did you know he was making bank in his line of work, until you started to notice the one to many expensive gifts he would buy you almost daily. Whether it be a necklace you told your boyfriend you would ‘die for’ that you magically saw on your bed the next afternoon, or some red bottoms heels that you saw in a store window.
“Ve a divertirte, princesa, y muéstrame lo que compraste cuando vuelva.” (Go have fun princess and show me what you bought when i get back)
Eventually you asked how he’s getting the money for all of these things, and thats when he sat you down and told you everything. You were shocked at first but it made sense, you told him you would always love him regardless of what he did, as long as he didn’t get too hurt. Which made him chuckle before stating, “Mami, I never get hurt. Don’t worry about me, now get ready I’m taking you out in an hour.”
He loves spending money on you mainly because you look good in anything you try on, whether it be dresses, heels, skirts, whatever it is. As soon as he sees you in it consider it sold.
4+ MONTHS
Finally says ‘I love you’
Those three little words aren’t something that miles says a lot, so when he said them to you one lazy afternoon while you were snuggled into his side, your eyes widened and you sat up to look at him. “You love me?” Humming in response, you quickly sat on his lap before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him. Your face buried into his neck.
“I love you too amor.”
After that day, you became wifey in his head.
Though keeping his stoic demeanor you could tell he changed a little after that, being more meaningful with his kisses and hugs.
he became a little bit more overprotective in the process but you reassured him that you’d be safe and always wold tell him whenever your going somewhere.
Bought you a promise ring on your anniversary </3 (it was very nice for a promise ring, it almost looked like a wedding ring but miles said your wedding ring would be much nicer </333
He gave you a credit card with ALOT of money n it, he hardly wanted you to use your own money so you had almost 20K+ saved on your cards because of it. (Mind you he paid for ALLL of your expenses: Cars, apartment, student loan, etc.)
Uncle Aron started to realize how much miles loved you and started to give miles a little little bit more time with you. Which was greatly appreciated by the both of you.
Overall you were wifey from the start </3
#🎸.𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌#atsv fluff#atsv x you#earth 42 miles x reader#42 miles x fem!reader#prowler miles#atsv prowler#prowler x reader#miles morales prowler#atsv x black reader#atsv x reader#atsv miles#atsv headcanons#atsv hcs#PROWLER X BLACK!READER#earth 42 miles morales x reader#42 miles morales#miles x y/n#miles x black reader
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The lack of hostility between Chuuya and Dazai is probably one of my favorite things to come out of the new chapter. I have seen some bsd fans touch on this subject but I want to join in as well!! :)
Some people have stated that the reason they are acting quite calm and less aggresive to each other has to be due to the fact that their alone, and while I think thats a plausible reason, I think there's more behind it.
Chuuya and Dazai have only been calm around one another when they are alone + when they are TIRED. And I got to say, it's telling that both of them went through hell and back (drowned, shot, injured, etc.) and they are so exhausted at a point where they can't even pretend that they hate one another lmao.
Like, they are actually in a situation where they are under extreme stress and preasure, not having any time to even put on a play and act like they want each other dead.
past chapters provided us with how over the top and exaggerated their "hate" for each other is (although we all know how in reality, they are fond for each other), but in this new chapter, all masks are off.
For starters, Chuuya shows concern for Dazai multiple times and even tries to reasure his worries, telling him Fyodor is dead and he shouldn't be anxious anymore.
I also want to mention, Dazai's openess around Chuuya and how of course, this isn't the first time Dazai has had these sort of emotional/anxious outburts infront of him.
Dazai is comfortable around Chuuya, comfortable enough to show his much more vulnerable side. And sure, Dazai is understandably tierd and stressed but even then he wouldn't show this state to anyone but Chuuya.
All in all, its clear that Chuuya and Dazai are in a place where they both know hostility and facades are the least needed at the moment. They are alone, which gives them an open chance to be honest with one another without fear of betrayal.
I think the sheer trust they have for each other has always been shown in past chapters/light novels but this is defiently some of those rare times where they are showing nothing but honesty and care for one another.
What are your thoughts? let me know!
#soukoku#soukoku analysis#bsd manga#bsd manga spoilers#bsd ch 114#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs#manga
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THINK YOU THE SH💩T BITCH,YOU NOT EVEN DA FART💨
THIS IS YOU TO THE OLD MINDSET!
Don’t hate the 3D
It’s an assumption bitch!
That same assumption caused by your OWN THOUGHTS
Which take place in your 4D
The 3D is a result
Of the 4D and the 4D is your consciousness your mind
CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS
If you don’t want
👇🏾
4D-“ My life is so hard I’m such a failure!”
*Two years later*
“I know about manifesting so why hasn’t anything changed!!!!”
3D-“ight bet”
*Ten years later*
*YOU LIVING THE SAME FUCK ASS LIFE YOU WERE AFRAID TO LIVE BECAUSE YOUR ASS WOULD NOT PERSIST*
☝🏾
So if you don’t want what’s up there
CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS
When your assumptions about the 4D changes the 3D changes
DO YOU NOT SEE THE PATTERN
YOU ARE THE REASON
THAT EVERYTHING WORKS OUT
OR YOU COULD BE THE REASON THAT EVERYTHING DOESN’T
Some of you like I was
Are too afraid to get your desires because you’ve chosen the assumption of failure over the assumption of success
Reason being is because you’re comfortable you may not be comfortable to yourself you may want out but if your doing nothing to prove you want OUT then your comfortable you like living like this knowing about manifestation the void shifting etc but not taking action is like saying you love your partner but never being there for them or saying you love yourself but continuing to allow people to abuse and hurt your self confidence
You have found comfort in being uncomfortable because being uncomfortable is all you know and it’s the only thing that makes you comfortable
YIKES
I know I touched some people with this
Trust me I use to be JUST like YOU
So if you don’t want this
CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS
Imma keep screaming at you til you do!
4D-“ Yo I look good today and nobody’s gonna tell me I look anybody cuz I’m pretty”
3D- ight,bet
4D-“I’m rich life is easy the void is within me”
NOTICE HOW THE 3D CONTINUES TO RESPOND THE SAME WAY
Because it’s simply a RESULT
If you took a test
You’re gonna use your mind thats full of knowledge to get a good result right?
So USE YOUR MIND
Your 4D USE IT!!
It’s not hard babe
It’s you
You created the void
You over complicate something you made?
If you made a school exam
You’d make it easy right????
For you and for others
So you created the void already
You have the rules
YOU MADE IT EASY
So why assume it’s hard?
You’re contradicting yourself
If you could use your mind to daydream you could use it to manifest
Make it fun
Fuck methods
Do what you want
I’m not gonna sugar coat shit baby
DO WHAT YOU WANT
Methods are tools
Use them if you want
METHODS SUBLIMINALS ETC ARE WANTS NOT NEEDS YOUR DESIRES ARE NOT NEEDS THEY ARE YOURS BECAUSE YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM
You keep
Falling asleep when lucid dreaming or entering the void
WHO SAYS YOU GOTTA BE SLEEPY BABY???
YOU CAN BE WIDE AWAKE LIKE KATY PERRY
If you feel yourself getting sleepy or drowsy
THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE PERFECT MOMENT TO START AFFIRMING
Pls in this moment
You’re like “ahhhh I’m soooo sleepy how do I stay awake”
BITCH START AFFIRM
CUZ YOU DEADASS ABOUT TO GET IN!!!
By “getting in” means becoming aware of your pure consciousness state cuz you’re not
“Going anywhere”
You’re becoming aware that it exists
You know it does cuz you’re the reason it exists
But you’re becoming aware
Like you know outside there’s people
And stores
But when you go out there to experience you’re aware of it
But why would you be surprised you already knew it was people outside?
Your conscious mind is always active
So you could do rn if you really want to
It’s there
You being alive is powerful
Because you being here is the reason the void exists in you
You control it
Not the opposite
I LOVE YOU
Deadass
Much love Honey🩵💕
Close your eyes until you see specs like this
Hypnotize your mind block out all the noise and enter the void
#law of assumption#law of attraction#void state#law of manifestation#manifesting#void#manifesation#subliminals#loassblog#loassumption#loa tumblr#loa blog#loa success#desired life#law of the universe#dream life#loablr#robotically affirming#reality shift#reality shifting#desired reality#shifting community#shiftblr#void success#manifesting affirm and persist#guided meditation#motivation#meditating#meditation#GOGETYOURDREAMLIFEILOVEYOU
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gold rush
❛ everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ❜ ━gold rush, taylor swift
word count | 19.2k (19,220)
genre | fluff, angst, slowburn, exes to lovers, summer au ━ gn!reader
though there is no denying that kim mingyu was once a big part of your life, you believe that the pain he’s left you with is long gone; he is a memory, and that is all he will ever be. but then you get home, and he’s there, and maybe you have to reconsider just how much you’ve moved on.
★ warnings | brief mention of injury/scars/blood, alcohol consumption, suggestive if u squint, seokmin and minghao meddling, i think thats it tell me if i missed anything
★ author’s note | it’s finally here!!! this took me longer than i thought it would, i really thought it’d only be on the shorter side (shorter side in dkfile means >10k words) but. this is literally 19k. i lied to myself i guess. hope u guys enjoy tho !! lmk your thoughts :D
In movies, summer signifies new beginnings. The sun’s radiance is bright enough to blind, the ocean glimmers underneath its attention, the sand is warm to the touch. Ice cream drips down your fingers and makes them uncomfortably sticky against the humid breeze. Some people come home, others leave, but they all have the intent of starting their new chapter right. Summer is about growth. It is about moving on.
It is not supposed to be about Kim Mingyu.
seok ☀️
> can you pls pick up the phone
> i’m sorryyyyy that i lied to you ☹️
> forgive me!! 😓💔🙏
> do you need me to grovel? because i will
You scowl.
When you came back from college, welcomed home with open arms by your family and childhood friends, you were reassured that a certain boy — with golden skin, starry eyes, and your crushed heart in the palm of his hand — would not be back in town. Foolishly, you looked past the mischievous quirk of Minghao’s eyebrow, and the sheepish wince painted across Seokmin’s face when you expressed your delight at having them all to yourself.
There would be no ex-boyfriend to thwart your plans, no boy to drown your summer in gasoline and set it aflame.
But then your shopping cart bumps into someone else’s at the store, and when you look up, the bane of your existence is staring at you, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
You vaguely remember the rather sharp inhale Seokmin took from behind you before you scoffed, incredulous and irritated, and harshly stated that Seokmin could finish grocery shopping by himself. You do not want to associate yourself with the traitor and the liar your so-called best friend has become.
Seokmin claims you’re being rather overdramatic. He swears he didn’t know Mingyu would be home so soon.
(“So soon?” you repeated when you picked up Seokmin’s fifteenth call ten minutes ago. “What does that mean? That you knew he was always going to be coming home?”
“…Listen—”
You hung up).
You find yourself sitting in the skatepark a few blocks from the mart, legs curled up on the bench and your chin resting on your knees. As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the occupants slowly pack up and leave, until the sounds of wheels against concrete is replaced with the murmur of cicadas and the laughter from the occasional passerby.
The warmth of the wood seeps through your denim shorts, percolating across your body until you are hot underneath your clothes. Despite the heat of the day giving way to the mellow cool of the evening, sweat forms on your upper lip and hairline, an indicator that it’s too hot to sit out here and contemplate every choice you’ve made up until this moment.
Still, you stay; you’re not sure why. You never quite liked it here, had only enjoyed it when you were surrounded by your friends and their saccharine laughter. The scars on your leg are painful reminders of the multiple falls you took when he was teaching you how to skate.
(Sometimes, on bad nights, you still feel the ghost of his fingers on your waist and your wrist, guiding you on his board while children much younger than you zoom by).
You never left this area without a new injury, whether it be a bruise on the shin or a scrape on the knee.
Memories of what once was linger.
You do not remember what you had for breakfast this morning, or what show Seokmin recommended to you a few hours ago, or what car your dad was planning on buying.
But you remember Mingyu. You remember his smile and his sweet cologne and the way his hair fell into his eyes whenever his shoulders shook with laughter. You remember what it feels like to be in his bubble; it feels like you’ve been dumped into molasses — you become aware of your every move, and time begins to move just a little slower, as if you are trying to savour every moment before he disappears.
You feel him before you hear him.
That’s why you’re not surprised when he talks, his voice soft from where he stands behind the bench. You imagine him with his hands tucked into his pockets, staring at the empty ramps (he is not looking at you. You would know if he was looking at you. His gaze would burn more than a thousand wildfires).
“I thought they told you.”
Your voice comes out hoarse. “They told me you weren’t coming home.”
“Oh,” he doesn’t sound surprised, but he stills offers an apology. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? You’re not the one who lied.”
A quiet heartbeat passes. “Right.”
Your fingers drum against your calf. “How did you find me, anyway? Did Seokmin track my location?”
“No,” he murmurs. His voice has been quiet ever since he arrived. “I just… figured you’d be here.”
You swallow a large lump in your throat. “Oh,” you say weakly.
“Yeah,” he responds. There’s a brief moment of contemplation. He knows there’s a line he cannot cross, but he tries anyway. “Do you want a ride home?”
Your response is immediate and firm, and its harshness is enough to break the calm façade he unintentionally built around the both of you. “No. I’ll walk.”
“It’s hot,” he argues.
“I don’t need you, Mingyu,” you bite back. He clamps his mouth shut as unease settles in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t— I’ll be fine.”
He seems to hesitate; you aren’t sure how long he stands behind you, searching for a response.
Then, as if it pains him to say: “Okay.”
“Damn,” Minghao falls into Seokmin’s shoulder as they both laugh at your stumbling, “You suck!”
“Hey,” Mingyu barks, though he looks more like a puppy than the intimidating boy he imagines himself to be, “it’s not like you’re any better!”
You know Mingyu’s only saying this to make you feel better — Minghao is, arguably, the best on wheels out of the four of you — but the sentiment still warms your heart. At your smile, Mingyu’s annoyed mien is replaced with a grin of his own. He reaches over to squeeze your cheek.
“I believe in you,” he declares.
“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing,” you begin, stretching out your arms to balance on the board, “I don’t think I’m ever going to master this.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Mingyu huffs, hands hovering over your sides once the skateboard begins to move, eyes trained on your feet. “By the time we get out of here, you’re gonna give Minghao a run for his money.”
You sigh. Mingyu was always one for wishful thinking.
“You really think I’ll be able to do this by myself in half an hour?”
Mingyu hums hopefully.
The sun has already begun to set, and you had promised your parents you’d be home for dinner. With fall around the corner, the days are slowly becoming shorter, a constant reminder that your last year of school is upon you. Next are college applications, then admissions, and conversations about your future that you aren’t quite ready to have.
But you’ll worry about that when you need to.
Because right now, there is the skate park, the late summer breeze, and Mingyu, who shrieks along with you when you lose balance. His arms grab onto your waist, bringing you back to the ground as the skateboard continues to roll down the concrete. Right now, there is the furrow of his eyebrows, the mixture of disappointment and amusement swirling in his eyes, and his forehead pressed against yours.
“I thought I told you not to zone out,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
You shrug, pecking his nose before pulling away to chase after the skateboard. “You’re so dramatic. The worst I could’ve gotten was a scraped knee.”
Mingyu scoffs. “So? I don’t want you getting hurt under my watch.”
“You’re my boyfriend, not my babysitter.”
“Well, I might as well be,” he argues. “You’re more accident prone than me.”
Laughing, you jokingly say, “Guess that means you’ve finally met your match, Kim.”
People used to say you and Mingyu were made for each other.
It is something you’ve tried to forget, but the fact follows you around like a shadow. This town, small and aware of the breakup, can’t seem to wrap their heads around the fact that you and Mingyu are no longer extensions of one another.
At some point, you hoped that people would understand your discomfort whenever he’s mentioned, but the fact of the matter is that you and Mingyu had been a package deal from when you were in diapers up until the end of senior year, and when you’re intertwined with someone for that long, it’s just as hard for you as it is for everyone to forget that part of yourself.
When you stop by the pharmacy, you don’t ask about him (you have no reason to), but the pharmacist still informs you that you’ve just missed him; when you see your mother’s colleague, she gushes about how nice it must be to see him after all this time (you do not have the heart to tell her otherwise); when you buy a pack of Sprite bottles for Mrs. Boo’s annual summer barbecue, the clerk asks if you know if he’s going to be in attendance (you say you have not talked to him in three years, and the clerk tilts his head in confusion).
Your patience has been worn thin by the time you arrive at Seokmin’s house.
“Hello, sunshine,” Minghao drawls when his attention settles on you. He watches you scowl before setting your bag on the armchair and taking a seat beside him on the couch. “How was your morning?”
“I’m ditching,” you declare, brushing off his question.
“Ditching what?”
“The barbecue,” you deadpan. “What else?”
“Now, why the hell would you do that?”
“Minghao,” you say blankly, “would it kill you to use your brain for once?”
“Are you calling me stupid?”
Seokmin enters the living room, carrying three cans of iced tea, all of which he places on the coffee table. He throws you and Minghao a look of annoyance. “If you guys are going to argue, please don’t do it under my roof,” he gestures around the room, “it kills the vibes.”
You roll your eyes but mutter an apology under your breath. Beside you, Minghao quips, “Y/N decided ditching the barbecue would be a good idea.”
You’re used to Seokmin’s mannerisms by now, so you don’t even flinch when he waves his arms around in disbelief. “What?” he exclaims, crouching in front of your legs and taking your hands into his. “Why the hell would you do that?”
Minghao hums. “That’s what I said.”
“Put that brain of yours to good use.”
“They said that to me, too.”
Seokmin huffs, knowing better than to let your quips deter him. “Please don’t tell me this is about Mingyu.”
You quirk an eyebrow, to which Seokmin scoffs, letting go of your hands before plopping down in front of you, even though there’s a free spot on the other side of Minghao. They scrutinize you for a moment, Seokmin’s eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a frown while Minghao stares blankly, showing no emotion or an indication of what’s going on inside his head.
It does nothing to make you feel comfortable.
You aren’t a stranger to Minghao and Seokmin’s examinations — they’re experts when it comes to breaking you down with analyzations and calculating eyes. But you haven’t been home in three years, and being on the receiving end of something as intense as this is startling, if not a little troubling.
(Being the only one enduring this, absent of a certain boy, is unsettling as well, though you’d rather die than admit that).
Seokmin nudges your ankle with his knee. “You know you’ll regret not going to this thing,” he says, eyes sparkling with amusement when you bristle. “You haven’t seen the Boo’s in forever, too. They’d be sad if you miss it.”
“Imagine how Seungkwan would feel,” Minghao adds, poking your arm to look at him, and continues to do so when you don’t. “He’d be miserable.”
You pout. “I doubt it.”
“You were in the same badminton club for five years,” Minghao argues softly, “I think he would be.”
Seokmin states, “And you’re not the type of person to let someone down, are you?” He pauses for a moment before adding, “Well, other than me and Minghao, on occasion.”
You cross your arms, leaning further into the couch as you avoid eye contact. You’re adamant on skipping, but Seokmin and Minghao know you better than anyone else, so they know exactly how to word their sentences and fabricate their bribes to get you to agree. They know, as long as you keep this up, the entirety of your summer will be spent in the four walls in your house, the only place in town guaranteed to not have Kim Mingyu.
And it may be pathetic, really, to continue letting him affect you like this.
(But it has always been you and Mingyu, Mingyu and you. He is part of your soul. There is a void in your chest that’s the shape of him. How are you supposed to erase all memory of someone like that?)
A painted fingernail pokes your side, a knee bumps your shin. Your friends look at you, hopeful.
A sigh.
“Okay, fine.”
“Can I ask you something?”
You hum, collapsing on the bench beside Seungkwan, his newly dyed platinum blonde hair appearing orange under the setting sun. Sweat trinkles down his frame but his breathing remains even, showing no sign that he just finished playing a rather intense badminton game a few minutes prior.
“What are you guys doing after you graduate?”
You take a sip from your water bottle in hopes the liquid will make it easier to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You have never minded these types of conversations, though the reminder of the future creates a pit in your stomach that only continues to grow larger with each passing day. And, knowing Seungkwan, you know there is more to his question than college applications and major declarations.
“What do you mean?”
“You, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin,” Seungkwan elaborates. “You’re all going to different colleges, right?”
Pursing your lips, you risk a glance at him, only to find that he’s staring ahead. “Minghao’s going abroad, yeah, and Seokmin’s thinking of staying here,” you explain, voice low. “Mingyu and I are going to be together, though.”
At this, Seungkwan turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. “You two are going to the same university?”
There is something about the way he asks this — unsure, withdrawn, and cautious. You see the flare of uncertainty in his eyes, and it’s enough for your heartrate to quicken.
“Yeah. Why?”
He opens and closes his mouth. There is war in his head. Very rarely do you see Seungkwan at a loss for words. He is usually so quick on his feet, so witty, so talkative, and the silence that falls between you both is painful and nerve-wracking.
Should you be worried?
“Nothing,” he eventually settles for, ignoring the silent question in your eyes. “I was just thinking about how nice that would be.”
You decide to believe him. It is so much easier to be ignorant, you think.
(But it is also much more painful later. You do not allow yourself to dwell).
“Why’d you ask, anyway?”
“I was just talking to Vernon and Chan, and I realized we all want different things,” Seungkwan sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “We won’t all be together much longer. It feels… weird.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you guys will be able to stay in touch?”
You shrug hopefully. “I think so,” you say, shifting your gaze to the horizon, “we’ve been friends forever. It’d take a lot to break that up.”
The scent of tangerines and aftershave fill your nose as you’re ambushed by a boy bursting with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he resides in your arms, squeezing you tight as he spews angry statements that all come from a place of love.
Seungkwan is grinning by the time you pull away, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you further into the backyard to catch up with other people. He doesn’t dare leave your side — he’s convinced you’ll slip away and disappear if he does — and you’re thankful; you don’t have the energy to steamroll through conversations today.
Though it’s humid, the warmth you’re engulfed in is a product of the Boo household. It is homely and welcoming and an embodiment of everything you’ve ever missed about home all in one lot. You should be happy to be here, surrounded by people you haven’t seen in years as a consequence of your avoidance, pulled into an endless pool of memories and nostalgia.
But you cannot shake it, the uneasiness.
You feel it as soon as the gate swings open and he enters, carrying two large Tupperware containers, one filled with brownies and the other with lemon squares. You feel it when he flashes his signature smile, canines as pearly white and blinding as you remember, and it still fills you with a sickening sense of joy.
“I’m gonna go get a brownie,” Seungkwan announces, loud enough to snap you out of it. “Do you want one?”
“No,” you decline, forcing yourself to smile even when you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. “Thank you, though.”
Seungkwan nods and makes his way to the refreshments table, but not before wagging a finger in warning, “Don’t leave without saying goodbye!”
You frantically search the backyard, looking for any sign of Minghao or Seokmin, or maybe a superhero of some sorts to pull you away so you don’t disintegrate in the presence of Mingyu.
In your periphery, you see him excuse himself from conversations, eyes flickering towards you with a determination you aren’t unfamiliar with. It’s remorseful and desperate, and it reminds you of an instance in the skatepark a few years ago, you in his sweater and drowning in heartbreak and sorrow.
Someone swings their arm over your shoulder.
“Hey,” Minghao murmurs, steering you further into the backyard, away. You can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. “You okay?”
“Fine,” you grit your teeth.
“You’re gonna have to talk to him at some point,” he says, dropping his arm once he’s decided you’re far enough. “I feel like it’d do the both of you some good.”
“I have nothing to say to him,” you protest. “And I’m sure he has nothing to say to me.”
“I really don’t think that’s the truth.”
“It is.”
“You were in love with him,” he says. It slips out of his lips so easily, as if he were talking about the weather or the shapes of the clouds. You wish you could mutter an admission like that — accept something like that — the way he had. “And he was in love with you, and it ended badly. That is more than enough of a reason to talk.”
It ended badly. You always associated a statement like that with relationships that ended in screaming matches or slamming doors. Ones where a simple argument escalated into one that finalized a conclusion, ones where there was nothing in the room but anger and exhaustion that overpowered the love.
You’ve never associated it with how your relationship with Mingyu ended. The sun was rising, and birds were chirping, and you were standing in the same spot you asked him out, the same spot he asked you to prom, the same spot he murmured three simple words into your ear before you fell asleep on his shoulder on the park bench.
It didn’t end because of a fight. Sometimes, you wish it had — maybe then you’d feel differently about everything, about him.
It just came to a halt, and he had been the one to step on the brakes.
“Talk to him,” Minghao urges again, sympathetic but firm. “You don’t have to do it now, but just do it before you leave. Don’t you think you deserve some closure?”
You find him talking to some of your classmates from your graduating class. They hang onto every word he says, face alit with curiosity and admiration, because some things never change, and he has been put on a pedestal since birth. In the hallways of the high school, his name is on the trophies, he’s beaming in most of the pages in the yearbook, he is this town’s pride and joy.
But you know him.
You see him smile and you’re not blind to the discomfort and falseness behind it. He doesn’t want to be there, you think, and your thoughts are proven correct when he glances up to look at you, and his mask slips by a fraction. For a moment, you see sincerity, a glimpse of the Mingyu you once knew.
Someone taps him on the shoulder and, as you predicted, he puts the mask back on.
You hate that you still know him like the back of your hand.
He is leaning against your frame, playing with your fingers, when he asks the question.
“How do you do it?” he wonders, looking up briefly to meet your questioning gaze before returning his focus on your hands, tapping them to the beat of an overplayed pop song.
His head has dipped down, allowing you to rest your cheek against it. “Do what?”
“Talk to everyone like that,” he says, using his free hand to gesture towards the backyard filled with the people you’re currently hiding from. The both of you sit on the staircase by the front entrance, away from any prying eyes. “They were hanging onto every word you said. They’re practically in love with you.”
You snicker. “What, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
Mingyu matches your teasing tone with a playful lilt of his own. “Oh, I am. I’ve got some competition.”
You nudge him with your shoulder. “Don’t be too upset when I pick Mrs. Boo over you.”
He hums. “No promises.”
A blanket of comfortable silence falls over you. He fidgets with your hands, brushing his thumb over your nails, and tracing the lines of your palms with his index finger. You close your eyes, listening to the fading chatter of the town and the faint sizzling of meat on the grill.
“I should be asking you that, y’know,” you eventually mumble. Mingyu’s movements stop. “You’ve got the whole town wrapped around your finger. I’m pretty sure everybody loves you.”
To get you to open your eyes, he pokes your cheek. “The same could be said about you,” he responds. “Besides, people only like the idea of me. What would they say if they found out my room’s never clean and I cycle through the same two pairs of socks year-round?”
You wrinkle your nose. “God, remind me to buy you a pack of socks from the store next time I’m at the mall.”
He laughs, an unpleasant snort involuntarily escaping his nose. “I’m serious. They don’t like me. They like the illusion.”
You finally look at him, meeting his softened gaze and mellow smile. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“No, not really,” he shrugs, but there is a minuscule halt in his voice that you don’t catch. “The only opinion that matters to me is yours.”
You’re convinced Seokmin and Minghao are saints.
(You would never admit this, though. They would never shut up if you did).
For the entire 40-minute car ride, they manage to keep the calm, filling the silence with anecdotes about people you have only heard about through irregular video calls, and arguments about who should be in control of the music. Eventually, they settle for handing the aux over to Mingyu, who meets your gaze through the rearview mirror before clicking on a familiar playlist and looking out the window.
After the first five songs, your face heats up as you remember bashfully making him a playlist back in high school. You settle into your spot, hoping the battered polyester of Seokmin’s car seats will swallow you whole.
When you agreed to tag along on their trip out of town and into the city, Minghao and Seokmin didn’t bother hiding their surprise, especially since they made it clear Mingyu was going to be in attendance. Seungkwan even offered to let you carpool with him, Vernon, and Chan, but you declined — you might as well suck it up, seeing as you and Mingyu are going to be in the same vicinity for the rest of the summer.
Still, you can’t help but regret your decisions as you squirm in the backseat behind Seokmin, who’s fiddling with the A/C, listening intently to a story Minghao’s telling about some scandal involving two classmates he’s never talked to before. You’re thankful for their nosiness, because it gives you some level of comfort and helps you ignore Mingyu’s fleeting glances from the passenger seat.
“The professor’s a hardass so everyone was convinced they were fucking,” Minghao says, leaning forward in his seat. “Turns out he was just her stepdad, who suffered from a chronic case of favouritism.”
Seokmin snorts. “Out of all the conclusions to jump to, that’s the one they picked?”
Minghao quirks an eyebrow. “You of all people should not be saying that.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
As Seokmin and Minghao begin to bicker for the nth time that evening, your gaze slides from the window to the Snoopy trinket hanging from the rearview mirror to the mirror itself, and you can’t find it in you to be surprised when you see Mingyu already looking at you. An unsaid question dances in his eyes, wary and timid.
Are you sure this is okay?
You gulp, worrying your lips between your teeth before shrugging. Yes, it’s fine.
He raises his eyebrow. This is the first time you’ve acknowledged him tonight.
Really?
You shrug again. Really.
And you leave it at that, turning again to look outside.
Seokmin takes fifteen minutes to find a decent parking spot, so when you finally enter the nightclub, you’re prepared for the scowl on Seungkwan’s face when he spots the four of you. He scolds Seokmin first and receives a flick to his forehead in response, which only angers him more. Before you can meet his wrath, you slip away, moving to enter the booth and letting Mingyu and Minghao get the brunt of Seungkwan’s rage and disappointment.
“Y/N!” Chan exclaims when you settle next to him, wrapping his arms around your torso to give you a brief hug before sliding you his unfinished pint of beer. “I haven’t talked to you in forever!”
When you take a sip of the alcohol, you try your best to hide your grimace when the lukewarm liquid hits your tongue. “I talked to you at the barbecue two days ago.”
“Well, I missed you. Sue me,” he throws his hands up in exasperation. Across from you, Vernon hides his amused smile behind his own pint. “You come home after, what, three years? Forgive me if I’ve become clingy.”
“Didn’t know you missed me so much.”
Vernon’s eyes are dripping with mirth. “He went broke from using all his coins at the fountain in town square,” he says, laughing when Chan shoots him daggers. “He went there whenever he was free and was wishing you’d come back—”
“He’s exaggerating,” Chan huffs. In retaliation to Vernon’s teasing, Chan takes his friend’s pint of beer and chugs it down until there is nothing left. “I only wished whenever Mingyu was home, he was so mopey, he would’ve been happier if you were here.”
You freeze.
“Okay,” Vernon interjects, pushing himself out of his seat to move all the empty glasses away from Chan, as if doing so will help the situation. He throws you an apologetic look, though it lacks his usual sincerity. “That’s enough for tonight.”
Chan whines. “But I wanted to do tequila shots with everyone.”
“Drink this first,” Vernon instructs.
Chan grumbles but accepts the glass of water Vernon gives him.
Before you can say something about Chan’s offhanded comment, the rest of your friends climb into the booth, and Vernon and Chan ease their way into their conversation as soon as everyone’s seated. You lean back, cowering behind Minghao and Chan’s frames as Seungkwan makes a joke you barely catch and Minghao repeats every story he told on the journey here.
You try your best to engage in the conversation, really, but it’s been so long since you’ve been with this group of people. As they discuss events you were never there for, snippets of a summer you weren’t part of, the awkwardness begins to build in your stomach, because it was never supposed to be like this, you were never supposed to feel left out.
If the person you were a few years ago saw you now, you know they’d be a little disappointed. Maybe they’d pity you, too.
The consequences, you suppose, of never coming home.
Sighing, you gesture for Minghao to slip out of the booth so you can get out. You say something about going to the bar to get another drink, and he nods, squeezing your shoulder — his silent way of telling you to stay safe — before letting you go.
You try your best to avoid any stumbling individuals, wrinkling your nose and murmuring apologies that get lost in the noise when you can’t avoid bumping into someone. With a glance over your shoulder, you make sure your friends aren’t paying any attention to you before making your way towards the exit.
It’s a warm evening, but it’s cooler than it is inside, and you relish in the temporary peace before you have to inevitably make your way back. They’ll notice if you’re gone too long, and they’ve always been easy to worry.
“Hey.”
A tall frame enters your periphery, clad in a loose white t-shirt and light-washed jeans, staring ahead at the passing cars. You ignore the way his face falls when you shuffle further to the side, away from him.
Your history aside, Kim Mingyu has always run hot. Before, you wouldn’t mind — before, you would’ve been clinging onto him — but time has passed, and you aren’t the same people you were back in high school.
A part of you misses it. There is something so comfortable about Mingyu that you can only describe in insignificant memories, like when he moves you to the side furthest from the road, or when he wraps his scarf around your neck because the cold is nipping at your nose, or when he buys mini versions of your skincare products to keep in his house for when you’re too tired to drive back home.
It's almost homely. Like a hug, maybe.
(You missed it a lot, at first, his aura. Whenever you needed it most, you’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, and instead of sheep lulling you into slumber, it’s him. Way back when, he’d rub circles into your wrist to help you fall asleep, and you think of it then, because it used to bring you so much comfort).
(In your dreams, you murmur his name — Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu — like a prayer, like an incantation).
“I’m sorry.”
You jolt in surprise. Not at his voice, but at the apology. “Why?”
“You’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m not,” you protest with a frown. “I’m just… I couldn’t think of how to contribute to the conversation, that’s all.”
“Oh,” Mingyu says gently. He looks relieved. “So, you’re okay that I’m here?”
“Yeah, I mean, they’re your friends, too.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
A quiet moment passes, and you see the relief begin to crumble.
“Yeah, I don’t mind that you’re here,” you offer. The next sentence slips out before you can stop it, “I’m glad, actually.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “You are?”
You shift uncomfortably on your feet, wincing. “A little. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Before this month, you only saw him through Instagram, glimpses of his life that were curated to make his life seem special and happy and void of any worries. You only heard about him — the real him — when his name accidentally slipped out of your friends’ or your family’s mouths.
You can’t help but think that it wasn’t enough.
“How’s school?” he asks, subtly moving so he’s slightly facing you.
“It’s alright,” you answer. “Stressful, but that’s a given. My roommate got a boyfriend, though. He leaves his shit everywhere and he acts like he lives there.”
A soft chuckle leaves his lips. “Yeah, I know, Minghao told me.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Oh? Why would he tell you that?”
“I asked,” he shrugs. You finally, really look at him now, and your confusion is evident. He seems unfazed by it, but you can see the crimson slowly climbing up his neck. “I ask about you sometimes.”
“Why?”
You know why, you think. What’s the point in asking when you already know the reason behind his actions and intentions? Your soul is intertwined with his, it has been for a while, but you can’t seem to accept it.
You still hurt.
Minghao’s right. Maybe the closure is needed.
“Because I care about you,” he confesses, trying his best to hide his yearning. “You were my best friend, and I want to know if you’re still doing okay.”
Your fingers shake, so you stuff them into the pockets of your sweater. “And what do they tell you when you ask?”
He hesitates, scanning your face while he plans his best course of action. The wounds haven’t closed, the stitches were poorly sewn, and blood spills out of the cuts he left like the damage he’s done is fresh.
“They tell me that I should ask you myself,” he says, “But sometimes they take pity on me, and they’ll tell me things you’ve told them. Like the roommate situation, or the barista who fucked up your order, or how you scored the highest on an exam— congratulations, by the way.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “Thank you,” you reply meekly.
“It’s no problem,” he responds. Contemplation flickers across his face before he adds, rather reluctantly, “I’m proud of you, you know.”
You feel the same way you did when he first confessed, like an immature and blubbering teenager, full of hope and optimism and dreams of what could be.
“Mingyu—”
“I mean it,” he interrupts. “I’ve seen the stuff you’ve posted, and I should’ve congratulated you then, I know that, but—”
You give him a small smile. “Better late than never.”
He flashes you a grin, the same one you’d longed to see, the one you used to humiliate yourself for. You would’ve done anything to see him smile like that — a smile that isn’t put on just for show, but one that’s genuine and blinding. It’s something reserved for certain people, those who have seen through the illusion that was created for him, those who have seen it and still love him for who he is, despite his faults and imperfections.
He nods. “Better late than never.”
Despite your best efforts to squash your delight, your heart escapes your desperate grip, and it soars.
It’s cold.
The ground has frozen over, leaving jagged pieces of ice all over the concrete. The snow, previously a crisp white, has turned brown due to its contact with cars. The wind is cold, persistent, it refuses to let you forget about its existence with each gust.
On the other side of the parking lot, you see your friends whisper amongst themselves before one of them throws his hands up in exasperation and stomps over to his car, a beat-up vehicle with torn polyester seats and discarded bubblegum wrappers on the floor. He’s grumbling something under his breath as he settles into the driver’s seat and leaves without so much as a goodbye.
It’s cold, and something’s wrong.
Your eyes find Mingyu’s and your stomach sinks.
Something’s wrong, but you’re unsure whether you’ll find out what it is tonight.
“Hey,” you say once he’s in earshot. He stiffens at the sound of your voice. “Is Seokmin okay?”
“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I’ll just apologize tomorrow morning.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing big.” He tightens the scarf around his neck and turns to walk towards his car. You follow, because with Mingyu you always do, and look at him over the roof as he digs in his pockets for his keys.
You clench your jaw, uncomfortable (when was the last time you’ve felt unpleasant around him? Things have started getting weirder since everyone started sending in their college applications). You wonder if you should push for answers, but you stop yourself before you can open your mouth. You’ve never done something like this before — Mingyu has always told you everything; secrets between the two of you are scarce.
He unlocks the doors. “Is it okay if we stop by the convenience store before I bring you home? I gotta buy some ramen for my sister.”
He looks tired. Maybe you can ask him about what happened another day.
“Yeah, sure.”
He nods in thanks and enters before another gust of wind hits — it’s harsher this time, as if it’s sending you a warning.
You really should’ve brought your own scarf.
When your family yells for you to open the door, the last thing you expect to see on the other side of it is Kim Mingyu.
Your ire is gone in a flash.
“Um…”
Mingyu winces. “Hi. Sorry, I— your brother called me, he said it was an emergency, and I was worried, so—”
“Mingyu!” your brother yells excitedly, running out of the kitchen before throwing his arms around Mingyu’s torso. “You’re here! Thank God, Y/N was ruining the cake—”
You scoff loudly. “What the fuck, Daeshim? You’re the one who put in salt instead of sugar—"
“Get in, get in!” Daeshim says cheerily, throwing you a glare. You narrow your eyes in return, ignoring how Mingyu’s hands brush against yours when he makes his way towards the kitchen after toeing off his shoes. Daeshim pokes you. “I’m telling Mom you swore.”
“What are you, five?”
Daeshim sticks his tongue out. “Add some money in the swear jar.”
“I hate you,” you deadpan. Your eyes flicker to the white sneakers neatly placed by the other footwear, worn from years of use. “Why did you ask him to come here?”
Your brother shrugs. “He usually stops by, anyway, to help for Mom’s birthday.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah,” he says sarcastically, gesturing for you to move so he can shut the front door. “Are you sure you guys broke up? Cause when you didn’t come home for the summer, he would still check up on us and stuff, and he’d always ask about you. It was so weird. It felt like I was a child of divorce.”
You smack him on the head. “Can you not say that about my relationship?”
“Well, it’s not a relationship anymore,” he quips.
You tense, crossing your arms so you don’t give Daeshim the delight of seeing your clenched fists. “You know what I meant.”
“If you don’t want to stay, then go. But he’s not going anywhere until Mom’s cake is done.”
“Why not? We were doing just fine without him.”
“Are you serious? You know he’s better at baking than you ever will be.”
“Okay, rude.”
“It’s true—”
“Uh, guys?” Both of your heads snap to wear Mingyu peeks around the corner, his amusement thinly veiled behind his distress. “Your kitchen’s a mess.”
Daeshim grins, pointing his finger at you. “Y/N’s fault!” he exclaims before heading to the kitchen.
You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance, watching your sibling nonchalantly disappear from your line of sight before you focus on Mingyu. He’s leaning against the wall now, hands shoved in his sweatpants and his head tilted to the side. He looks at you like he’s studying you, trying to find a sign of any kind that he needs to leave.
He must’ve found nothing because he stays.
You clear your throat, straightening your posture. “It was not my fault.”
His lips quirk up. “Oh, I’m sure.”
He disappears before you can retort.
(He’s always been good at that — leaving before you have a chance to fight).
When you finally join them in the kitchen, there’s a familiar baby pink apron around Mingyu’s neck, already splattered with cake batter as he whisks something in a steel bowl. Daeshim is crouched in front of the fridge, putting containers of leftovers on the floor in search of something. You kick his leg with your foot, throwing him off balance, and you both give each other matching scowls.
“Don’t put the Tupperware on the floor.”
He rolls his eyes but picks them up without argument, placing them on the empty counter by the fridge. You don’t understand why he couldn’t have done that in the first place, but Daeshim is notorious for making terrible decisions.
You don’t miss the way Mingyu’s eyes soften when he sees you. “You’re gonna help?”
“I came with the intention to supervise Daeshim and make sure he doesn’t accidentally set something on fire, but…” you shrug, “I could help, yeah.”
“Perfect,” Mingyu grins. “Can you get the baking pan?”
You do as he asks, handing it over to him over the kitchen island. “You’re gonna put it in the oven already? Daeshim was complaining about the batter so much he almost convinced me there was no saving it.”
Mingyu snorts as he cautiously pours the mixture into the pan. “He was just being overdramatic—”
Daeshim snaps from his spot near the fridge. “Are you guys just gonna talk about me as if I’m not here?”
“—it was only a little runny,” he assures, making sure not a drop of batter ends up on the floor or the countertop. Once he’s done, he brushes his hands on the apron and wipes his forehead with his arm. “Can you put it in the oven? You guys preheated it, right?”
You hum in confirmation, carefully placing the tin in the oven as Mingyu steps over Daeshim to try and get to the sink. You frown at your brother, who’s been scouring for something since you walked in. “What the hell are you even looking for?”
“Strawberry milk.”
“I drank it all.”
Daeshim huffs. “Of course you did.” He stands, slamming the fridge door with a dramatic flick of his wrist before hastily making his way out of the kitchen and towards the exit. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store to get some.”
“Wha— No, you have to help clean—”
“Can’t hear you!”
There’s a few more footsteps and the sound of Daeshim struggling to put his shoes on before the door inevitably slams shut.
You don’t let the shock of your brother’s irritating audacity bother you for too long. The way your fingers swipe through your phone to find his contact is lightning quick, but the first call is sent to voicemail and before you can even try his cell a second time, you find that you’re blocked.
Prick.
Mingyu’s humming catches your attention. You look up from your phone to find him with his back against the sink. “Voicemail?”
“Blocked.”
Mingyu snorts. “Of course.”
You send him an awkward smile before turning away so you don’t have to face him. You and Mingyu haven’t spoken since last week on that trip out of town; after the two of you slipped back inside, no words were exchanged except for an apprehensive goodnight when Seokmin dropped you off at home.
With friends as nosy as your own, privacy is hard to come by, but now, in their absence, there’s nothing more you want than a buffer. The tension’s become more palpable without a third party, and your palms are getting clammy at just the thought of searching for an excuse to kick Mingyu out of the house without hurting his feelings.
(Why do you care? He hurt you first, didn’t he?)
“Hey,” Mingyu calls out tentatively. “Do you want me to help clean up? It’s a mess in here.” When you don’t reply, he adds, “I don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”
You take a look at the kitchen around you and decide that you don’t want him to leave, either.
“Okay.”
Mingyu grins. “Okay.”
It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a system that’s not messy or chaotic or involves stepping into the other’s path — you and Mingyu have always been like that, like a cohesive unit. The feeling that shoots through your veins at the realization that you still are is nothing short of euphoric.
Before you know it, the kitchen is clean. The surface sparkles as Mingyu swipes a finger at it to see if there’s anything he’s missed, looking up at you with fleeting disappointment.
You think he’s about to announce that it’s time for him to go, but he surprises you when what comes out of his mouth is a question instead.
“Can I ask you something?”
You press yourself against the counter, thankful for the kitchen island acting as a barrier between you both. “Sure.”
“If we…” he pauses. Regret already begins to fester in his skin, pulled down by the weight of his frown and the pinch in his eyebrows. “Uh, never mind.”
Your heart lurches in your ribcage. “Mingyu—”
“It’s fine,” he assures but his smile is tight, and his tone says otherwise, “I should probably head back. I’ll — uh — I’ll see you?”
You gnaw at your bottom lip. “Yeah,” you say, ignoring the way your heart begins to crack as Mingyu unties the apron and slips it over his head. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”
A worrying cloud has attached itself to you, nibbling on every last bit of your sanity like a parasite. Because something is wrong, you’re sure of it, even if everyone around you acts otherwise. Seokmin still laughs and makes bad jokes, Minghao still scolds you for not bundling up more when it’s so cold outside, and Mingyu still attracts attention and reaches for your hand and pokes your cheek whenever you’re not paying enough attention to him.
Everything is normal.
(But…)
“Does this look stupid?” Mingyu asks, staring at the banner he’s hung up.
Minghao grabs a macaroon from the table and rearranges the assortment, so it looks like he never laid a finger on it. “Yes.”
Mingyu huffs before turning to you. “Is it really?”
“It’s a little crooked,” you say, taking your eyes off him for a moment when Minghao presses the macaroon into your palm after making a face to suggest he doesn’t like it.
As Mingyu assesses the best way to fix the Happy Birthday! banner, Minghao starts poking at the pile of presents. You frown, kicking his ankle with your foot in an attempt to get him to stop. He only flicks your shoulder in response.
“Don’t touch those,” you hiss.
“I’m just trying to guess what other people got him,” Minghao retorts.
You deadpan, “You’re sizing up the competition.”
“Yes,” he confirms, “I need to make sure my present is better than all of these.”
“You got him a gift card to Party City. I didn’t even know they had those.”
“He can use it for Halloween!”
“Halloween is nine months away.”
“Oh, whatever,” Minghao grumbles. “Seungkwan will find some sort of use for it. All that matters is that my present isn’t the worst one.” He turns to you, jabbing a finger at your shoulder. “Hey, wait, what did you get him?”
You push his wrist as a scowl takes over your previous amused expression. “What’s it to you?”
“You’re a horrible gift-giver.”
“That’s not true!” you object, immediately turning to walk over to Mingyu, who’s staring at the banner in distress. “Gyu! I need to ask you something—”
“Nuh-uh, you can’t ask him, he’ll agree with you!”
You mockingly pout at Minghao before tugging Mingyu’s sleeve. “Hey, babe, question.”
Mingyu’s more than happy to have his attention on something else, letting his hands that were previously taping up the banner fall onto your shoulders. “What’s up?”
“I’m a good gift-giver, right?”
A moment passes. You scoff. Minghao cackles.
“Listen—”
“What the hell?”
“I love you and everything,” Mingyu begins, “but you really aren’t.”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t,” he says quickly. “You love me. Even though you gave me a terrible birthday present last year.”
“You said you liked that apron!”
Minghao pipes up, “There’s a reason why he leaves it at your house, Y/N.”
You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend’s chest. Before you have a chance to defend your honour, Seokmin comes barrelling into the rented community centre, carrying two boxes of used decorations.
“Hey, guys,” he exhales, out of breath, dropping the large containers on the floor with a relieved huff. “So, the guests are coming in, like, twenty minutes, and Chan’s getting Seungkwan here in forty-five, so that should give us enough time to finish decorating… Mingyu, I thought I told you to deal with the banner?”
“It’s not cooperating with me,” your boyfriend whines.
Seokmin rolls his eyes before stomping over to the wall to fix the banner himself. Mingyu follows, grabbing the tape on his way so he can help. They don’t talk, at least not at a volume that allows you to hear what they’re saying — it’s only heated whispers that are exchanged, and you catch a glimpse of Mingyu’s nervous expression before it disappears completely.
He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a smile and it’s the same one you’ve seen him give everyone else. It’s a mask.
This isn’t something you should be on the receiving end of.
You open your mouth to say something — to say what, exactly, you aren’t sure — but Minghao tugs at your wrists and holds up a packet of balloons.
“We should start doing something before Seokmin gets mad,” he says before dragging you out of Seokmin and Mingyu’s earshot.
It’ll be okay, you think. This will pass over and your friend group will still be as close as you can be once university comes and you and Mingyu pack your bags, leaving this small town behind.
(But your worries refuse to let go; they’ve seeped into your bones, and you think their weight may crush you until you’re broken beyond repair. But ignorance is bliss, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve always said to yourself. And you’ve never needed to worry about something like this, whatever it is, before).
Everything will be fine.
Everything will not be fine, and you aren’t sure why Minghao thought it would be, but he was unbelievably wrong.
A rainy day has caused a picnic in the park to turn into a board game night at Seokmin’s house, and a homicidal game of Monopoly (a skit between Chan and Seokmin had been the last straw before Minghao flipped the board over) quickly transformed into a homicidal game of Twister. Before you is a jungle of limbs, and you’re glad that you were fast enough to volunteer to spin the wheel so you wouldn’t be caught in the inevitable crossfire.
“Left hand, red.”
Chan’s complaints come immediately.
“Chan,” Seungkwan warns, “I will kill you if you try to push me off.”
“I haven’t even moved yet.”
Seungkwan mocks his words with a high-pitched tone that barely resembles Chan’s voice before Minghao scolds them to cut it out and hurry up. Chan scoffs indignantly before moving his hand to a free red circle, struggling to find his balance.
“Are you good?” you ask blankly.
“Fine,” he grits out, “Just go so it gets to my turn faster.”
“Go slower!” Vernon exclaims from beside you, the first to be eliminated with his phone in one hand and a handful of popcorn in the other.
“Fuck you, Vernon!”
You spin the wheel. “Hao, right foot, green.”
Minghao huffs, but his new position, although uncomfortable, has given him the perfect opportunity to sabotage Seokmin. Almost as if they can sense your thoughts, your friends look at each other, one mischievous and the other in warning, before Minghao fakes a move, successfully luring Seokmin into his trap when the latter flinches and flails like a fish out of water before landing on his side.
Seokmin groans, sitting up and rubbing his ribcage as everyone laughs. He looks to you, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that always manage to worm him out of any undesirable situation he’s ever found himself in, but you only shrug helplessly in response. Seokmin sighs, flicking Minghao’s forehead, before making he settles beside you in all his pouty, wronged glory.
“It’s okay,” Vernon says from your other side, phone speaker pressed against his ear as a video of what just occurred plays on the phone. The sound of Seokmin’s yelp of surprise from 30 seconds ago causes your lips to twitch upwards. “You’ll get them next time!”
Seokmin leans into your shoulder. “Y/N! He’s making fun of me!”
You pat him reassuringly. “You’ll survive, don’t worry.”
“Hey!” Seungkwan interrupts. “Spin the wheel! It’s my turn.”
“Okay, okay! Right foot, blue.”
Much to your surprise, the rest of the game goes by smoothly with Seungkwan as the victor. Chan is beside himself, grumbling with his arms crossed as Seungkwan mimics the fall that led to his demise. When Chan opens his mouth to snap back, Minghao reaches over Vernon’s lap for the remote to increase the volume of the TV.
Once their argument has died down, Chan suggests, “Does anyone want to play Cards Against Humanity?”
“Lame, absolutely not,” Seokmin replies instantly. “I’m hungry.”
Seungkwan makes himself comfortable on the armchair. “Pizza should be coming soon. Who ordered it, anyway?” Mingyu raises his hand. “What did you get?”
“One cheese, one pepperoni.”
Chan boos, making a comment about the mediocre order which Mingyu skillfully brushes off, immune to his friends’ instigations after years of receiving them.
Minghao pokes Mingyu with his foot. “Can you check to see what time it’ll get here?”
Mingyu unlocks his phone while Vernon begins complaining about having to register for classes first thing tomorrow morning. His whines are halted, however, when Mingyu sharply inhales a breath and clears his throat sheepishly.
You raise an eyebrow. Everyone in the room knows what that means.
“Oh, what did you do now?”
“Seungkwan! What makes you think I did something wrong?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Mingyu shakes his head before turning his phone so the screen is facing all of you. The screen says the order’s been good to go for the past five minutes, but— “I accidentally ordered for pick-up, not delivery.”
Chan rolls his eyes. “Then go pick it up.”
“What?”
“Well, it says the order’s ready, right? Go pick it up.”
“But I’m so comfortable here.”
“And we’re hungry.”
“Why does it have to be me?”
“Whose fault is it that the pizza guy isn’t on Seokmin’s doorstep right now?”
Mingyu huffs, clearly having run out of retorts. He’s quick to admit defeat, pushing himself off the couch and adjusting the hoodie that’s ridden up his torso. You watch his every move, ignoring Minghao’s gaze.
Just as he begins searching for his car keys, Minghao pipes up, “You shouldn’t go alone, though.”
Mingyu frowns. “Huh? Why not?”
“Because you’re clumsy and you’ll drop something.”
“Can’t you guys put some faith in me—?”
“Y/N could go with you.”
Mingyu closes his mouth, trapping any more complaints behind his teeth. You stare at Minghao like a deer caught in headlights.
Vernon is the first to protest, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I don’t—”
“Mingyu’s clumsy and he’ll drop something,” Minghao repeats impatiently. He shares a glance with Seokmin, who seems to understand Minghao’s intentions in milliseconds.
“Yeah, and we can’t let Y/N go by themselves because the last time they drove they ran over my mailbox.”
You squawk in protest. “That was when I was sixteen, I—”
“And I’ve feared you every time you’ve gotten behind a wheel ever since,” Seokmin says. He swiftly dodges Seungkwan’s questioning nudge and Chan’s panic, giving you the biggest smile he can muster before letting his eyes land back on Minghao.
Minghao looks at you, apologetic and stern all at once. “The ride will only be, like, ten minutes. Five minutes there and back,” he shrugs, turning away to face the TV. “You’re both adults, you’ll be fine.”
You think you might strangle them.
“Okay,” Mingyu says from behind you. You look at him, he stares back. “We’ll be okay. Right?”
He’s offering you one last final chance to back out. Your fingers twitch at your side before you gulp, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”
You’re shoved out the door before you can even blink, wearing Seokmin’s old Crocs instead of the sneakers you had arrived with (“These are faster to put on, make haste, make haste! Get out of here, I want my pizza!”). You sink further and further into the passenger seat as Mingyu pulls out of the driveway, trying your best to focus on anything besides him.
But it proves to be impossible. The air freshener is the same as it was all those years ago, the same cheap dog bobblehead is on the dashboard, the pack of gum he’s left in the cupholder is the same one he used to buy in bulk at the supermarket. Nothing in here has changed, as if the vehicle is stuck in time, refusing to move forward despite all the years that have passed.
Mingyu must’ve noticed you staring at the gum because he picks it up and hands it to you in silent offering. You shake your head, and he puts it down.
The awkwardness might as well eat you whole.
The radio does nothing to ease the tension when the next song that plays is about heartbreak and being left behind while everyone moves on. Your sanity is hanging on by a thread that might snap if you’re in this car any longer.
In the corner of your eye, Mingyu opens his mouth to speak, but he decides against it when the pizza parlour comes into view. He swiftly parks by the front entrance, and once you get out, you notice that the car is centred perfectly between the lines.
You suppose he’s gotten better at driving over the years. The last time you were here, he’d parked so crookedly your stomach hurt from laughing.
“Hey,” Mingyu says, staring at you quizzically. “Are you good?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, slipping past him when he holds the door open for you. “Thanks.”
He walks up to the counter, saying his order number to the employee and nodding understandingly when she explains that one of the pizzas had been dropped on the floor and they’ve gone to remake the order. He returns to you — beside you, as if it has always been his rightful place — hands tucked into his pockets as he sways on the balls of his feet.
This must be some form of torture, you think. Minghao and Seokmin have done this in retaliation for every bad thing you’ve ever done to them.
(“Seokmin and I love you both,” Minghao confesses over the phone, face blurry due to your unpredictable wi-fi, “You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“And we really think you should talk to each other,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at your phone, you can tell he’s staring at you in that analytical way of his while you try to finish an assignment. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.”
You sigh. “Hao—”
“It’s been three months. Let him explain.”
“I did,” you hiss. “He was the one that left.”
Silence. You rub your temples.
When you finally look at Minghao, he’s remorseful. “Sorry,” he murmurs, flopping onto his bed and letting his camera pan up to the ceiling. You can no longer see his face, but you can hear the despair in his voice. “It’s just hard, being in the middle of this.”
“I’m not asking you to pick sides.”
“I know that,” he argues softly. “I just want everything to go back to normal.”)
You dig your nails into your skin as Mingyu begins humming to a song playing over the speakers. It’s one that they’ve been playing for years, a pop song that will have to be pried out of a radio host’s dead, cold hands.
It’s a song Mingyu despises.
(It’s so catchy, though, he used to tell you, ashamed. You need to save me from it).
When Daeshim had called you at the end of the semester, the first thing out of his lips was a question about your return. You had agreed with reluctance, and he said something about how long it’s been, how time heals all wounds, that nothing should hurt anymore.
But three years cannot erase a lifetime.
You foolishly thought it could. When you arrived, you pretended you didn’t see an old photo of him taped on your closet door. When you first saw him at the supermarket, you ignored the way his hand twitched to reach over to you. When he talked to you outside of that nightclub, you evaded the familiarity of his warmth like it was a virus.
You foolishly thought it was enough. You built a wall of indifference around yourself, but it had begun to chip away just as quickly as you constructed it. It was never foolproof. It was never made of stone, but of cards.
One glance from Mingyu and it all comes tumbling down.
“Minghao told me a few days ago that you wanted to talk,” Mingyu says once the song has ended.
“Yeah.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“Not yet, no.”
“Well,” he says, taking a step towards the counter when the employee calls out his order number, “whenever you’re ready to, I’m here.”
“Something’s wrong.”
He understands what you mean. You’re not referring to the TV that won’t play the movie or the takeout that tastes a little off. You look at him nervously, afraid to break the flimsy spell of calm he’s enchanted on everything he touches.
“Yeah,” he replies, gripping the armrest tightly.
You blink at him, waiting for something he won’t offer. For a moment, he thinks you might push, but you have never been one to do so; you have always believed that doing something like that only throws you down a road of hurt.
So, he shouldn’t be surprised when you eventually nod in defeat.
“Well,” you say with a smile reserved for strangers you can only pretend to care about, “if you need to talk about it, I’m here.”
Four friends occupy a small corner of the skatepark. One of them is on the ramps, appearing in the air to do a trick before disappearing from sight. Another is rolling down the concrete, hands stretched out to maintain balance.
Two sit in the shade, watching.
“Do you think they’ll talk soon?” one of them asks, a taller boy with light brown hair and a beauty mark near the apple of his cheek.
The other, dressed in all black despite the sweltering heat, runs a hand through his mullet. “I don’t know, Seokmin. Probably. Hopefully.”
“Do you think they’re mad at us for forcing them to get the pizza?”
“Yes.”
Seokmin snorts, but his amusement is short-lived. He continues to observe his friends as they stray further and further from each other. He catches the way they glance over their shoulders in concern.
“They’re stupid, aren’t they, Minghao?” he finally says. The boy beside him hums in agreement. “Were they always like this in high school?”
“I don’t think so,” Minghao replies. “If they were, I don’t know how I managed to survive.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“Hypocrite.”
Seokmin sticks his tongue out. Then, quietly, as if the other two friends will hear, he says, “Well, they need to hurry up and talk. I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he grumbles. “Maybe if I just told Y/N about it sooner, or pushed Mingyu—”
“Probably,” Minghao interrupts before Seokmin can concoct any more what-ifs from his brain. His stomach churns at the numerous possibilities he will never see. “But there’s nothing we can do it about it now.”
“Maybe things would be better if we did things differently.”
“Yeah, but the past is the past. Besides,” he sighs, watching one friend trip on his way towards them and the other struggle to stop themselves on the board, “this isn’t our problem to fix. I don’t think it ever was. We’ll just leave it to them.”
“You really think they’ll work it out?”
“God. I really hope so. It would put all of us out of our misery.”
Spring has long since bled into winter when you find yourself at the skatepark, wearing a sweater that was never yours with your heart dangling from its sleeve. It’s chilly at this hour of the morning when the world is quiet and your denial is prominent, and it gets even colder when your name falls from Mingyu’s lips and his touch is uncharacteristically icy against your skin.
You rip your wrist from his grasp and hurt flashes across his face before he takes a step back.
“I—” he gulps, “you shouldn’t run out like that.”
He purses his lips, and you notice how chapped they’ve gotten over the past few days. Everything about him has roughened up — it goes farther than his dry hands and the unruly state of his hair; he’s grown distant. He looks at you with a mixture of emotions you can’t explain, his words have are clipped, and you aren’t sure how long this behaviour would’ve gone on for if you hadn’t caught him signing up for classes at a university he never told you he was going to attend.
“You lied to me.”
He exhales shakily. “I know. I’m sorry, I—” he rubs a hand over his face because he doesn’t know what to say. Mingyu isn’t like this. People would kill to own even a sliver of his charisma; it’s so easy for him to talk himself out of things, but the words have died in his mouth before they even reached the tip of his tongue.
“You—You should’ve told me,” you stammer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mingyu has never felt this moronic before, standing before you and stretching his hand in your direction only to watch how, every time without fail, you take a step back as if any contact from him will result in third-degree burns.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “But you were already so worried about all of us growing apart after graduation, and I didn’t want to add onto that stress. So I kept putting it off, and I shouldn’t have, I know that, I just—” his face falls, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
It takes everything in him not to flinch when your anger flares. Your resolve is rotting away to dissolve into the morning air; he thinks, offhandedly, that the molecules of your decaying calm have collided once again and found purchase over his head. A cloud to loom over him, made up of your melancholy and his guilt.
“You didn’t want to hurt me,” you say incredulously, in a tone so hurt that Mingyu’s heart drops. “Well, look where we are now, Mingyu.”
He doesn’t like the position he’s put the both of you in. He doesn’t like how this conversation is tainting every happy memory he ever had at this skatepark. He wonders if he’ll see your hurt expression every time he closes his eyes.
This could’ve been avoided, he’s aware of that. Seokmin made sure to voice his disapproval every time they crossed paths, Minghao’s veil of indifference was slowly crumbling with each passing day, and Seungkwan — who made the mistake of being around when Mingyu let it slip that his post-graduation plans didn’t match yours — grew more nervous than all of them combined.
For as long as he can remember, everyone he knows has never done well with secrets. He’s always been a firm believer that they’re parasitic, the reason behind every downfall he’s ever had the displeasure of witnessing. But that was before he had a secret worth keeping.
(It does not matter if it’s worth it or not. At the end of the day, he was right all along. They are infectious, deadly little things).
Soon after he was born, it was common belief amongst townsfolk that he would change the world. It did not matter how; they would support him regardless. He thinks his entire being may as well have been made from diamonds with how he was created to be the star of something he never asked to be part of.
It’s exhausting.
The university you two had chosen at fifteen-years-old was perfect for you. When you took the virtual tours and exchanged messages with its students, you looked like you had stepped right out of a fairy tale. But it was two hours away from this town, so far yet so close to the very thing that’s been draining him of energy, and he quickly came to realize last summer that your dream school was the last thing he wanted.
But you would’ve followed him anywhere. If it weren’t for his, Minghao, and Seokmin’s insistence, you would’ve chosen to stay at home, because you never liked the idea of leaving everything behind.
That’s where you and he differ.
And he couldn’t take that from you.
Because you and him were always believed to be cut from the same cloth — model students, the perfect fit — but everything he touched tarnished and everything you touched turned to gold dust. He’s hidden behind an illusion all his life, but he knows for a fact that you’re meant to go above and beyond every expectation that’s ever been set for you.
Who is he to get in the way of that?
(He’s sure the only thing that’s setting you back is him. It has always been him. It’s only a matter of time before you realize it, too).
“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, startling you to your core. “And I’m so sorry.”
You look at him warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I fucked up,” he says.
“Yeah, you did.”
“But…” he trails off. When your eyes meet, something ignites inside of you.
(You have always known him better than any of them ever could).
“Mingyu—”
“Maybe it’s for the best if we—”
“Mingyu.”
He closes his eyes and hopes it’s enough to push the tears back. “I love you,” he says again, but his lips are quivering, and a sob threatens to escape the confines of his throat. “I love you so much that it physically hurt to do that to you, but it was for the better—”
Disbelief engulfs you in an instant, and you take a spontaneous step towards him in your surprise. “You’re not making a lot of sense right now,” you say, frantic, “I’m still really fucking mad at you, but we can talk this out, because I have no idea what you’re—”
“Just listen to me, Y/N, I don’t think—”
“You listen to me, because—”
“You deserve so much better than this, don’t you know that?” he snaps, shrinking into himself seconds later. His voice shakes with frustration. This hurts him beyond your imagination, but he’d do anything for you, even if it ends with him sporting wounds that will never heal. “And I’m holding you back, and I— I can’t do that to you. Not anymore.”
A sob melts into your words before you can stop it. “So you think the best way to fix that is to move across the country?”
“There were better ways to go about it,” he admits. “Ways that wouldn’t have ended like this, but I stand by what I said, Y/N.”
“Don’t do this, Mingyu. You don’t get to—” you stutter, inhaling hastily to regain your composure before looking him through your teary vision, “—you don’t get to break up with me over something as stupid as this.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he says it like a mantra, like it’s engraved into his brain and there’s no use trying to rid him of it.
“You don’t get to decide that!” you exclaim. “And even if that was true, it doesn’t matter to me. We love each other, Mingyu, isn’t that enough?”
You go to cup his face. This time, it’s he who takes a step back, and his heart screeches in pain at the sight of your crestfallen face.
“Maybe if I—” he runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the strands, forcing himself to continue, “Maybe if I loved you less, I’d let myself be selfish. But that’s not the case. That’s never been the case.”
That day you do not leave the skatepark with a scrape on your knee or a new bruise on your shins. But you don’t leave unscathed, either.
Your heart has been ripped from your chest, and Kim Mingyu carries the remnants of it with him.
Mingyu always liked people-watching.
He’d tell you it was nice to be on the other side of the microscope; to observe, not be observed. On the trips out of town, he’d sit anywhere that was bustling with people and make up stories about anyone who caught his eye: he’s cheating on his wife with his high school sweetheart, or she’s talking to her estranged cousin and she’s threatening to get a restraining order, or that little boy was meant to be a twin but he ate his sibling in the womb.
“That guy’s still in love with his ex-girlfriend even though they broke up a decade ago,” Mingyu says, subtly nodding towards a man supervising his child on the ramps.
The snort that escapes you dents the discomfort hanging in the air. “He reached out to her on Facebook, and it turns out she’s coming to visit.”
“They’re going to meet in the city. He told his wife he has work stuff.”
“His wife’s suspicious. She’s definitely hiring a PI.”
“But the PI sucks, he’s a fake and a scammer. He ends up tailing the wrong guy.”
“And the wife spent good money on him, too.”
“But she doesn’t really care since she paid the investigator using her husband’s money.”
“Good for her! It’s what he deserves for cheating.”
You smile, pressing your legs against your chest as you watch the kid soar through the park on her rollerskates. Her laughter’s loud, and you allow it to ring in your ears to momentarily distract yourself from Mingyu.
It’s overwhelming being here next to him. You’ve been here multiple times since you’ve come home, but the nostalgia and ache of watching him from afar does not compare to what you feel now that he’s by your side, sitting stiff on the park bench with his hands clasped in his lap. The dull throb in your chest becomes more prominent when he glances and catches your eye, hiding his yearning beneath a thin veil of indifference.
You turn away, and that’s enough for him to adorn the last bit of confidence he has. “Why’d you call me here?”
Resting your cheek against your knee, you murmur, “You know why I called you here.”
It does not matter that he’s known you almost as long as you’ve been alive — a room full of newborns would realize that he’s here because you want an explanation.
Closure really would be nice.
“Okay,” he breathes. “Ask me anything.”
When you slipped out of your house this morning, full of anticipation, you thought that it’d be hard for you to find the words. But you’ve stuffed the curiosity down your throat long enough. For years, all you could feel was a weight on your esophagus; the air you’ve been inhaling and expelling is nothing if not tainted with heartbreak, and you crave the feeling of fresh air again — something that’s free from the insecurities and the anguish and everything in between.
“Back then, did you tell Minghao we fought?” you ask. “Because he seems to think that we did. Every time he called me that’s all he would ask. Have you and Mingyu stopped fighting?”
He tilts his head. “Would you not say that was a fight?”
“Well, no,” you reply. “You just ended it, and I was trying to get you not to.”
Mingyu flinches but he’s quick to recover. “Nothing could’ve changed my mind back then.”
“Why?” you demand, unable to hide your despair.
Mingyu finally looks at you without tearing his gaze away. He’s exhausted, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of how early it is or if he’s just as drained from all of this as you are. The limbo between forgiveness and disdain was never made for the weak.
“Listen, I—”
“You told me you didn’t deserve me,” you say, “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I thought I could’ve been enough for you — I tried to be. But you always had everything planned out and I didn’t, I was living with a façade and you weren’t, and I— I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
Clenching your jaw, you say, “So, you moved.”
“I loved you,” he says quickly before you have the chance to ask him otherwise. “That was never the problem. I was scared. I guess part of me wanted to let go while you still thought I was worth it.”
“Don’t say that, Mingyu.”
“I know, I know,” he replies. “I’m working on the self-worth. It’s hard to come by.”
It hits you then, like you’re standing in the ocean as a large wave of water looms over your figure. You used to watch as everyone fawned over Mingyu as if he was untouchable, a divinity amongst men. You used to watch and lust for the days where you would turn out to be exactly the person he deserved to love.
But while Mingyu ached to be the person everyone made him out to be, you saw past your own desires and those who desired him. Through all that was carefully crafted, you saw him for who he truly was.
And you loved every inch of him. So much so that you’re convinced you’ll never be able to feel this way for anybody else.
“For what it’s worth,” you say, “back then, you were it for me. I would’ve loved you regardless.”
His gaze softens and, for a moment, sitting next to you is the same boy from all those years ago, who accepted your proposal for a date, who asked you to prom, who tattooed eight letters into your skin before slumber took you over.
“If we…” he begins carefully, “If I did things differently, do you think we could’ve made it?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d like to think that we would’ve,” you nudge his shoulder in hopes that being playful will lighten the mood. “But none of that matters. We’re here now, and we talked.”
“We talked,” he nods. “We used to be terrible at that.”
“Not the best at communication, sure,” you smile softly. “But at least we fixed it. Better late than never.”
He bites the inside of his cheek to stop his own smile from growing any larger. “Better late than never.”
The sun envelopes you in a warm hug the moment you sit down, a companion in the serene summer’s day. Sand sticks to your skin, adhered to it by the sweat, clinging to you as if you’re its last hope to live.
The tranquility is interrupted by a screech, and you bet with closed eyes that it’s either Mingyu, who left a while back to get some ice cream and probably dropped it, or Chan, who decided to build a sandcastle close to the ocean despite the various protests he received in response.
You crack an eye open just as the water retreats from the shore. Chan stands before his unfinished monstrosity, staring in distress, while Vernon gives him a look as if to say I told you so.
From where he lies beside you, Seokmin announces, “If it makes you feel any better, it was a little ugly.”
“You said five minutes ago that it was good!”
“I was lying to you.”
“Yeah,” Seungkwan agrees, toeing the area where the castle once resided. “The moat was fucked up, too.”
“It was a moat.”
“And yet you fucked it up.”
Chan gives them an unsavoury gesture before instructing both Vernon and Seungkwan to help him make another. Reluctant but compliant, they take the pails you’d bought last minute at the dollar store and settle themselves farther away from the shore.
Seokmin salutes them for good luck before glancing at his phone. “Is Mingyu still at the boardwalk?"
Minghao hums. “Yeah, the line for ice cream’s probably long.”
“Okay, good,” Seokmin says before poking your shoulder aggressively, ignoring your complaints about how easily you bruise. “Gives me time to interrogate you.”
“Interrogate me?” you ask incredulously. “About what?”
He raises his hand, and you prepare yourself for the worst. It’s over for you the moment Seokmin begins listing things off his fingers. “You willingly sat in the backseat with Mingyu on the way here, you willingly talked to him for the entire car ride, and you willingly offered to go with him to get ice cream.”
“Hardly things to interrogate me over.”
“Hardly things to interrogate me over,” he mimics. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you guys dating again?”
“What?”
“Ah. Have you two eloped?”
Minghao snorts as he opens the cap to his sunscreen. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re just engaged.”
Seokmin places a hand on his chest. “Oh, thank goodness—”
“Are you guys insane?” you shriek, briefly scanning the beach in hopes nobody heard your friends’ remarks. “We just talked yesterday.”
“Oh,” Minghao muses, throwing the sunscreen over your head for Seokmin to catch. “And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” you confirm. “What else would there be?”
Minghao shrugs as he rubs the cream onto his arms. “Nothing, I guess.”
A noise escapes Seokmin’s throat, something akin to disagreement. You whip your head to face him as he raises his hands up in defence. “What is it?” you ask him.
“I just…” he waves his hand in the air with a small pout on his lips. “I’m confused, I guess. Everything’s resolved now? Just like that? We’re all friends again?”
“I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” you huff. “I don’t know what we are, either. But we have the rest of the summer to figure that out, so why the rush?”
Seokmin leans back on his elbows. “Well, whatever the two of you are, I’m glad you two talked, it was long overdue.”
Minghao nods in agreement.
From a few feet away, Seungkwan’s voice is loud amongst the waves crashing onto shore, the families relaxing under beach umbrellas, and the seagulls soaring through the sky. “Mingyu!” he exclaims in disbelief. “You didn’t drop any!”
You can’t catch a good glimpse of him without craning your neck, but his voice alone is enough to quicken your heartbeat. “Yeah, I know,” you hear him say, “I told you guys I’m not completely hopeless. Seven Drumsticks, all in perfect condition. Vernon, did you want the original flavour?”
It only takes a couple moments before he’s in your line of sight, standing in front of you with the sun’s blinding rays crowning his head like a halo. He grins, letting his sunglasses slip down his nose so you can see his eyes, and hands you a cone.
“Thanks,” you say.
His grin widens, just a little. “Don’t mention it. Hao, which one do you want?”
Once everyone’s finished their ice cream (and after a long debate that occurred due to Chan innocently asking for advice on what to do about his roommates back at his on-campus apartment), Seungkwan manages to find a beach volleyball court that’s unoccupied and persuades everyone to participate.
One set to ten points turns into the best out of three, and when your team begins to buckle under the pressure, Seungkwan suggests something with a sinister grin. “Losing team has to get buried under the sand and stay there for fifteen minutes.”
“Ten,” Seokmin negotiates.
“Twelve.”
“Five.”
Seungkwan squints. “You can’t go lower, that’s not how a negotiation works.”
“One person from the losing team gets buried under the sand for ten minutes and has to pay for dinner,” Chan says.
Seungkwan snaps his fingers before pointing to him. “Deal.”
It all ends, as expected, with Seungkwan’s team victorious. The three boys on the other side of the net exchange high-fives before returning to you and your sullen teammates with cocky grins. Minghao urges all of you to play a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide the true loser of today, and though you feigned indifference when you fumbled the last ball, the mask speedily cracks when the last two people left is you and Mingyu.
(“A duel between lovers,” Chan sighs dramatically. Minghao pinches his side).
Your eyes meet his, and something flickers in his expression. Gone too quick for you to decipher, but something in the back of your mind tells you that you should know exactly what he’s about to do.
Seokmin booms, “Rock, paper, scissors!”
You ball your hand into a fist and Mingyu curls his fingers into his palm except for two.
“Scissors beats rock,” Vernon slaps him on the back sympathetically before pointing at the ground. “Get comfortable, dude.”
With the amount of eagerness your friends exhibit, Mingyu is buried in minutes, stiff under the copious warm dust he’s under. Seokmin, with sand sticking to his hands, ruffles Mingyu’s hair and laughs when the latter crinkles his nose in disgust. Taking his sunglasses from his bag, you place them on the bridge of nose and brush off anything that got on his face.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Don’t mention it,” you echo. “I’m sure you’ll have fun here.”
He kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Oh, I bet. Once I get out of here, I’m gonna have tan lines on my collarbone.”
You smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can stay here with you.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“You’re here for ten minutes by yourself and the reason we lost is because of me,” you say, wincing at the memory of Seokmin and Chan shouting for you to retrieve the ball despite it being too far away for you to save. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs. “Since I let you win rock, paper, scissors.”
You blink at him. “I’m sorry?”
“You always choose rock.”
“What? Then why’d you choose scissors?”
Mingyu attempts to shrug and scowls when he can’t.
You flick his forehead. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“I wanted to.”
“Of course,” you snicker. “And how are you finding it underneath all that sand?”
He doesn’t even bother to pretend to be nonchalant. “Oh, it’s the worst. It’s slightly better with you here, though.”
You turn to look at the sea. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” he pouts. “I thought we were going to tell each other stuff from now on. You know, communicate better.”
“Well, still.”
“I’m just saying what I’m thinking!”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He laughs, loud and boisterous and it heals something in your very being. There’s a mirth in his eyes you haven’t seen in a long time, and you yearn to hear it again. Mingyu has always been beautiful, but he’s even more so when he’s happy, a boy so golden he could rival the sun and the stars in its beauty.
And he would win, you think.
(What you don’t know is that Mingyu thinks the same of you. Many things have changed, but one thing that never will is how much you shine. The sky and all its confidants, try as they might, would never rid you of your luster. To him, they’ll never prevail).
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question.
He smiles. “No reason.”
Considering the fact that you spent a good part of your childhood running around the mall and giving into the urge of buying things you’ll never need, it’s a surprise that you forgot just how busy it gets during the summer.
(“Wow,” Mingyu had said. “You avoid me and this town for three years and suddenly you forget everything about it?”)
(He, along with everyone you’ve grown up with, will never let you live this down).
It’s a miracle the four of you even found somewhere to sit in the food court — a booth, no less. Part of you wonders if Seokmin sweet-talked a family into giving up this table for him, and you feel only a sliver of pity for whoever has to eat in an area that’s affected by the vibrant rays of the sun.
Once Minghao and Seokmin have returned from buying their food, they send you and Mingyu off to get your lunch with the promise that they’ll wait for you both before they start eating. Mingyu walks ahead, careful not to trip over anyone as he observes the signs of each food joint you pass, and glances over his shoulder to make sure you haven’t gotten lost in the crowd amid his indecision.
“What are you getting?” he asks once the two of you can hear each other above the many mallgoers.
“Don’t know. Pad Thai, maybe.”
“Nice. I was thinking getting a burger at Burger King, but…” he gestures towards the long line and winces. “I don’t have the patience for that.”
“So?”
“So, what?”
“What are you going to eat then?”
“Oh,” Mingyu frowns before shrugging nonchalantly. “Pad Thai it is, then. I think that has the shortest line.”
“Really? When we passed by KFC it didn’t look too bad—”
Mingyu turns, pointing to the Thai place across from you. “Pad Thai! Let’s go before the line gets any longer,” he proclaims, wrapping a hand around your elbow and gently tugging you towards the smell of stir-fry.
It’s easy to fall back into rhythm with Mingyu — so much so that it scares you, just a little. While you assumed it wouldn’t have been too weird once the barrier of the old relationship was removed, you hadn’t thought it would’ve been this comfortable. You assumed everything would be stilted for a short period before the puzzle pieces returned to their places, but this was unpredictable. This is familiar (everything with Mingyu always is); more familiar than riding a bike, or the scar on your knee, or your mom’s tendency to hover over you now that you’ve returned.
His skin against yours all while offering to lend you his jacket and pay for your food could be seen as simple acts of friendship — and if it were anybody else, you would agree, but your ties with each other, since the beginning of time, have regularly toed the line of romantic. It is a fact you cannot deny, and trying to do so would be like saying the sky is green or oxygen isn’t a requirement for survival.
The void in your chest used to be in the shape of him — freshly eighteen and brought down by his expectations along with everybody else’s — and you have tried other remedies to heal it: avoidance, sinking into other people’s sheets, tossing every physical memory you have of him in a box that you never ended up donating.
Who knew that the void would be filled by the same boy who caused it? Only this time, he’s standing in front of you, a little taller, sporting a different haircut, and learning how to live on his own terms.
“Fuck,” he says as he digs through his wallet. “I think I don’t have any cash to pay with. Man, I really didn’t want to use my credit card today.”
“It’s fine,” you say. “I’ll pay. You already gave me your jacket even though I said you didn’t have to.”
“You were cold,” he argues. “If you didn’t want me to give it to you, then maybe don’t get cold next time.”
You scoff. “Well, tell whoever’s managing the A/C to turn it down. It’s like stepping into a freezer in here.”
Mingyu mutters — something along the lines of so dramatic — before he shifts the position of his open wallet in his hands and continues digging for bills that aren’t there. What is there, however, is a photo all too familiar.
You place a hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “Hey, is that a picture of me?”
Mingyu freezes. Then, he pulls away from your grip. “No.”
“Okay. Then who was it?”
You stare at each other for a beat too long, interrupted by someone asking if you can move up the line, and it’s only then that Mingyu turns away, bashful, and murmuring, “Okay, fine. It’s you.”
You try not to let the giddiness get to you. “And why, exactly, do you have a picture of me in there?”
“It’s not just you,” he lies. “Minghao and Seokmin are also in there.”
“No, I don’t think so,” you reply matter-of-factly. “I got a good glimpse, and I think it was just me.”
He tuts. “Believe what you want to believe.”
“I’m choosing to believe the truth.”
He sulks, taking another step towards the register. “You’re finding this too funny for my liking.”
“I’m not! I think it’s cute,” you object. “Why is it in there in the first place?”
“Maybe I just wanted to put it in there, it’s a good photo!”
“Of course.”
“You’re photogenic,” he adds. “Besides, what’s wrong with keeping a photo of my friend in my wallet?”
The question escapes you before you can think twice. “Is that what we are?”
Mingyu quietens, uncertain. Then, after rapidly fighting an internal battle, he says, “Before everything else, you’re my best friend.”
You nod because that’s the case for you, too. “But?”
His digs his teeth into his bottom lip before he opens his mouth, the answer on the tip of his tongue.
“I—”
“Next, please!”
Mingyu flinches, but it only takes a glance at the long line behind him before he’s grabbing his credit card. “C’mon,” he interlocks his pinky with yours. “Order what you want, it’s on me.”
“Mingyu—”
He gives you a smile. “It’s fine,” he assures quietly. “I want to.”
(In his wallet is a candid polaroid — a person on the beach, laughing at a joke made by someone who hasn’t been photographed. The picture has no crinkles, either because it’s deeply cherished or because it’s new — maybe both is the case.
It replaces an older photo, one that’s years old, taken while he was in high school of the same person. Still candid, still radiant, still laughing. He’s treasured it for years, but he decides it’s time to relocate it. Maybe when he gets back to his apartment, he’ll put it on his fridge. It was looking a little empty, anyway).
Mingyu doesn’t particularly like it here. It brings up old feelings he’s working to retire as well as a medley of insecurities and unease.
But he would be lying if he said that the bad was the only thing this town has to offer.
The skatepark brings comfort, a corner of the world where freedom comes from touching the sky in the seconds his board lifts from the ground, a playground of cement and ramps and splintered benches found under trees that have been alive far longer than he has. It comes from his friends’ homes; Seungkwan’s spacious backyard and Seokmin’s living room where drink rings litter the coffee table as a consequence of never using the coasters.
It comes from the people. It comes from his family, who hugs him tight and listens to every concern he has under the sun. It comes from his friends, a group of rambunctious people who he has too many inside jokes with, and who drag him into shenanigans he has no option of backing out of.
It comes from you. Comfort always comes from you.
From where he stands in the corner, he watches you scour the karaoke song book, protesting all of Chan’s suggestions before entering a number onto the TV. Then you squint at the lyrics on the screen before you begin singing.
The others in the living room are in awe, captivated despite your inability to hold a note. Your gleeful smile makes up for what you lack in the singing department, and Mingyu supposes he’s no different than everybody else when you meet his eyes in the crowd and his palms begin to sweat. You hold his gaze for far too long, causing you to lose your spot in the song, and you sheepishly turn away before trying to make up for your mistakes.
He stays until the end, the loudest to clap despite your score being nothing exciting (it’s exciting to him, and that’s all that matters), and raises his hand in greeting with a silent promise to see you later when you’re pulled into a conversation with someone you used to play badminton with.
He ducks into the kitchen before he’s forced to engage in more small talk with another person. His footsteps quicken along with his growing desire to grab another beer, hidden behind the soda cans Seungkwan shoved inside for the party.
(Mingyu doesn’t entirely know what or who this party is for. He only recalls the texts between him and Minghao three days prior:
hao 👨🎨
> party at seungkwan’s on saturday
mingyu
> not coming
hao 👨🎨
> 😐 ok ur loss
> y/n is tho
mingyu
> … i’ll bring my mom’s brownies).
Mingyu opens the can the moment it’s in his hands, relishing in the temporary sound of fizzing before taking a sip. The only straggler in the kitchen is him; everyone gathered in the living room the moment Seungkwan turned the karaoke machine on. He situates himself so he can see just through the threshold, keeping an eye out for the moment you’re free so he can pull you aside to talk.
About what, he doesn’t know. Winging it has always been his thing.
“Yo, Mingyu,” Seokmin greets as he makes his way to the fridge. “What are you doing in here?”
“Hiding.”
“It’s nice to know some things haven’t changed,” Seokmin quips, digging through the variety of drinks, “you’re still a loser.”
“You love me.”
“Oh, of course, that was never in question. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a loser.”
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”
“Uh-huh.���
“What are you looking for?”
“Sprite for me, beer for Vernon.” He stands to his full height and cranes his neck to look at Mingyu around the fridge door. “Was that the last of it?”
“I think so, yeah.”
Seokmin doesn’t look that defeated when he grabs two cans of Sprite. “Maybe that’s for the best. He’s drunk enough as it is.” Off Mingyu’s confusion, Seokmin adds, “I know, he never gets wasted, but he’s on the waitlist for a screenwriting class, so he’s upset beyond repair.”
“And he’s always saying everyone else is more dramatic than he is.”
“Right? He’s only second on the waitlist, too.”
Mingyu laughs but his eyes involuntarily flicker back to the door to see if you’re still talking to other people. He frowns when he notices you’ve disappeared from where he spotted you last, and he debates taking out his phone and texting you to ask where you are.
Seokmin kisses his teeth. “Are you sure you want to stay in here by yourself? Y/N probably wants to talk to you.”
“They’re talking to other people. I’m fine waiting it out.”
Seokmin looks like he’s going to oppose Mingyu’s decisions, but he opts for shrugging instead. “Alright, if you say so. Don’t wait too long, though.”
“I won’t,” Mingyu promises. Seokmin begins his trek back to the living room, one soda dangling from each hand, when Mingyu suddenly calls out, “Hey, wait.”
Seokmin falters awkwardly in his step before turning around with furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“I, uh,” Mingyu rubs his neck, wincing. “I don’t think I ever apologized.”
The confusion on Seokmin’s face is wiped away to be replaced with triumph. He points an accusatory finger at his friend while his voice echoes in the four walls of the Boo kitchen. “I knew it! You did steal my beanie, you liar, the next time I visit you, I’m taking it back, and it better be in good condition! I can’t believe you took it with you across the country, that’s so fucked up—”
“Huh? No, what?” Mingyu says in disbelief. “For the last time, I didn’t steal your beanie—”
“Okay, sure, then who was it, then?”
“I don’t know!”
“Then what are you apologizing for?”
“For not listening to you!” Mingyu exclaims. “Back then, you told me to tell Y/N the truth and I didn’t listen when I should have. If I did, you and Hao wouldn’t have been put in the middle of everything.”
“Oh,” Seokmin makes a face and waves him off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But—”
“You made a mistake. A stupid one, yeah, and I’m probably never going to let you live it down, but,” he smiles gently, “we’re okay now. Just focus on what you’ll do about… you know.”
“…What?”
“You know,” Seokmin parrots. “Y/N. I mean, you still love them, don’t you?”
Without hesitation, Mingyu responds, “Well, no fucking shit.”
Seokmin makes a noise of satisfaction before turning on his heel. Over his shoulder, he singsongs, “Don’t fuck anything up!”
Mingyu scoffs. “I won’t!”
With each passing minute, the night gets livelier, and Mingyu ends up re-entering the living room and talking to other people despite his internal insistence not to. It keeps him busy, momentarily distracting him from the way his heartrate spikes at the thought of speaking to you tonight.
In the middle of his conversation with a former basketball teammate, a microphone ends up in his hands, and before he can blink, he’s pushed in front of the TV. It takes him a moment too long before he realizes that he’s been forced to sing a duet with you.
(Behind the couch, Minghao snorts at Seokmin’s devilish grin.
“I thought I told you to stay out of it.”
“I am!” Seokmin says, “I’m only giving them a slight push in the right direction!”)
The timer begins counting down.
Five.
“Just so you know,” you begin, “Seungkwan and Chan are going after us. We have to score as high as possible.”
Four.
“I don’t think we can manage that, to be honest.”
Three.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re great at singing, so you can make up for how bad I am.”
Two.
“I don’t—”
One.
“Believe in yourself, Mingyu.”
You bring the microphone up to your lips and begin to sing, and he can only follow your movements.
It takes an unfathomable amount of willpower to stop himself from staring at you for the song’s entirety. He clenches his fist as he recites the lyrics, but when it gets to the bridge and it’s your turn to take the reins, Mingyu lets his guard down, his hand falling limply to his side as you laugh through your part.
He has never been an expert in love — few of the decisions he’s made in the name of it have seldom ended well — and when he was younger, the only thing he ever knew regarding it was you. Before, he thought that wouldn’t have been enough, that in order to be the person you deserved, he had to know more.
However, he’s older now, and things change with time.
You glance at him and the butterfly in his stomach rapidly flaps its wings.
(Other things don’t).
He doesn’t even know the song’s ended until arms wrap around his neck. He stumbles backwards before he forces himself to find his footing so he can properly return your excited hug. Mingyu pays no mind to the score flashing onscreen, nor the claps coming from everyone else; all he can smell is your shampoo, he feels your breath on his skin, and that is much more important than a karaoke score ever will be.
Seungkwan says, “That’s not even a good score.”
You loosen your grip around Mingyu so you can look at Seungkwan, and he immediately yearns for more. “Be quiet, this is the best I’ve gotten all night,” you retort. You turn to face Mingyu again, shaking him by the shoulders. “We did good! I told you to believe in yourself!”
Before he can reply, you’re pulled apart by Chan, who’s itching to take his turn. He rips the mics from his and your hands, and you slip from Mingyu’s fingers once again when Vernon asks you if you can help him look for another can of beer.
He exhales in defeat, accepts Chan shooing him away with grace, and slips outside.
He leans over the porch railing, staring at the watercolour sky, a mixture of pink and orange and yellow.
Mingyu hangs his head, wondering just how many more times you’ll get whisked away before he even has a chance to utter a word. He prefers smaller gatherings, because at least then he’d be able to talk to you with ease.
He’s not quite sure how many more times he’ll be able to stand by and watch you go before he loses his mind.
Behind him, the door slides open, and he assumes it’s Seokmin telling him to get a move on. But the footsteps sound different than his friend’s, and he immediately perks up when a familiar scent reaches his nose.
“Hey.”
Your frame enters his periphery, your university jacket hanging on your shoulders with the sleeves covering your hands.
Mingyu straightens. “Hi.”
You settle beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and Mingyu immediately relaxes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, “what makes you think I’m not?”
“You’ve been hiding from everyone since the night began,” you answer. “You don’t wanna be here, huh?”
“Of course I want to be here.” You raise an eyebrow at his lie. “Okay, fine, I don’t really want to be here.”
“Then why’d you come?”
“…I thought it would’ve been fun.”
“Really?” you snort. “Do you even know what this party is for?”
“Well… no.”
He expects you to roll your eyes, but instead you sigh in relief. “Okay, that makes me feel better, because I don’t either.”
“Well, I only came because Minghao told me you’d be coming,” he confesses.
You tilt your head in confusion. “I only came because Seokmin told me you’d be coming.”
He furrows his eyebrows and spares a glance through the glass doors at his friends. “…Huh.”
You huff, following his gaze. “I swear they always have their nose in our business.”
Mingyu looks back at you. “You have to admit, though, they’re pretty good at luring us into parties we don’t want to attend,” he smirks good-naturedly. “Who knew you still had a soft spot for me?”
Turning away from him, flustered, you grumble, “Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t come here because you wanted to see me.”
“I’m not!” he proclaims. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I make it pretty obvious that I like seeing you.”
“You’re so cheesy.”
“Only for you.”
You lightly punch his arm when the laughs that escape his lips grow louder. “I thought I told you that you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” he hums. “I mean what I say, Y/N.”
“I’m not saying you don’t, it’s just…” you place your arms on the railing, leaning forward to avoid eye contact, “It’s confusing, that’s all.”
Mingyu faces you while you face away, watches how you stare at the setting sun instead of him, and his heart clenches. When you went your separate ways, he craved to be near you again, but even next to him, you still feel so far away.
(In hindsight, maybe he should’ve planned out how to go about this beforehand).
“You used to say stuff like that all the time,” you explain. “You know, before, uh—”
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
A million scenarios flash through his mind; different results depending on what he says next. He’s typically so good at saying the right thing — his words got him out of trouble and charmed his neighbours — but he’s found that his voice fails him whenever he needs it the most. When he tried to muster the courage to tell you about everything, he was never able to, and he gave into the false reassurances his mind offered that all would be alright in the end.
But none of that matters, you had said. We’re here now.
“You know what I never understood?” you ask.
“What?”
“You don’t like it here. Not a lot, anyway,” you start, “so why did you keep coming back?”
“Well, my family’s here, you know. So are our friends,” he gulps. “And I thought you would be, too.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” He nudges your elbow. “Can I ask you something?”
You chance a glance at him. “Sure, yeah.”
“What you said the other day,” he murmurs, unblinking, “about how I would’ve been it for you, has that changed?”
“Why are you asking?”
He bites the inside of his cheek as his cheeks begin to redden. “Do you really need me to say it?”
You frown. “Say what—?”
“I love you,” he blurts out. “And I know that might be kind of weird, since a lot’s changed since we last saw each other, but that’s the one thing I haven’t been able to shake. Not that— not that I ever wanted to— I just… I think it’s a part of me. Like I was born with it.”
You look at him, eyes glassy, unable to speak.
“But y’know what’s weirder?” he adds. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never get sick of it.”
It’s his turn to face away, turning towards the sun as you stare at the side of his face. The silence drenches the backyard like sudden, thunderous rainfall. For him, it’s unwelcome, and his eardrums echo with his confession.
He tries his best to hide his lovesickness, but the intensity of his longing prevents him from doing so. For the entire summer — perhaps for years, really — he’s been pushing it all down. He’s tired of it all. Of hiding, of pretending, of brushing off his esurient desire for you.
“It’s not weird,” you say, finally, saving him from his misery.
“Sorry?”
“You said it’s weird that you still love me,” you muse. “But I don’t think it is. It wouldn’t be fair of me to.”
His lips part. “What do you—?”
“Of course you’re it for me, Mingyu,” you tell him frustratedly. “You have been since the beginning of time. I don’t want you to go a day without believing it. I know what it’s like to live with you and to live without you, and I really prefer the first option.”
Mingyu’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits.
With quick movements, he inches closer to you, eyes flickering down to your lips before he asks, “Really?”
“What do you mean, really? Why would I—?”
“Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, slowly moving his hands closer to your face. “Please?”
He’s sure the longing in your eyes is wild enough to rival his.
(What an odd turn of events, is it not? Despite being on opposite sides of the country, you used to believe there weren’t enough miles between you and Mingyu for you to heal properly. But now, with his lips hovering over yours, you’re beginning to think that he is not close enough).
You take his face into your hands, and you kiss him.
Mingyu stumbles, surprised by your fervor, but matches it with ease. His hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he moves to have his back against the railing. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he surprises himself with a moan at just how much he’s missed it — your hands pulling at his locks, his lips against yours.
He used to pray for this.
When you pull away to catch your breath, he chases you, too dazed to acknowledge your amused mien. You go to peck his lips to soothe him, but he makes sure to hold you against him, his hunger far from satiated.
He stops himself for a moment, breath hot on your skin. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
You smile against his mouth. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”
“I feel like you’ve been faking it.”
“I have not.”
“You definitely have. Skateboarding isn’t that hard.”
Mingyu throws his arm around you in defence. “Hey, give them a break, Minghao.”
“Yeah!” Seokmin pipes up, “Y/N was just terrible at it because they can’t balance at all.”
“You know,” you grunt, crossing your arms, “I thought you guys would be proud of me for finally managing to skate across the park without actually falling.”
“I’m proud of you,” Mingyu says, pecking the side of your head. “And I think that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, I can always count on you having my back,” you say, leaning further into him and pointedly glaring at the other two boys in front of you.
Seokmin waves you off. “Hey, I think this might be the first time ever you didn’t get injured at the skatepark.”
You go to protest before frowning. “…I think you’re right, actually. That’s so weird.”
Minghao snorts. “Maybe we should teach you some tricks then.”
You glance at Mingyu, and he seems to really be considering it. “Oh, absolutely not. Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’ll teach you the easy ones!” Mingyu begins, standing in front of you so he’s all you see. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them in reassurance. “You’re already a pro at just skating around, so this should be a piece of cake!”
“Mingyu,” you whine.
“Please,” he matches your tone. “I like teaching you stuff! It’ll be fun!” he lets go of your shoulders and rolls the board so it’s by your feet and offers you his hand as if you’ll need help getting on. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Your wariness is squashed the moment he flashes you a soothing smile.
You sigh. “You promise?”
He crosses his heart. “With everything that I have.”
Without a second thought, you place your hand in his.
He squeezes it immediately in a silent vow:
I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.
© dkfile, 2023. do not translate or copy my works.
#fic: gold rush#seventeen#svt#mingyu#kim mingyu#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#kim mingyu scenarios#mingyu scenarios#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#kim mingyu angst#mingyu angst#seventeen angst#svt angst#kim mingyu fluff#mingyu fluff#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#kim mingyu imagines#mingyu imagines#seventeen imagines#svt imagines
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i just know (from personal experience i swear) that ellie would be sooooo touchy when she’s high.
her eyes half closed and hands aimlessly roaming your body in small patterns. you ramble on about whatever high thought you’re having, paying no mind to anything but the bright pink slipper in front of you and the bag of cool ranch doritos. ellie’s head is fuzzy, finding it hard to blink, but the one thing she’s sure of is that she wants-no she needs to touch you right now. in any way. or she may just die.
as she lazily nods her head to whatever you’re saying, her calloused fingers roam around your arm, your leg, your back, and up into the base of your neck. “mhmmm…” she says as you say something extremely profound (thats only profound in your mind).
“oh my god, babe…” you mumble, still staring at the slipper, “we should…i have this like-“ you giggle for a few seconds, “no no no, listen…” you interrupt your giggles, as if ellie was shooting down your plan. even though she had just been staring at you the whole time, unmoving. a small smirk creeps up on her face as she watches you, nodding slowly to urge you to keep going.
“there should like…totally be a-like a… oh my god! wait…i-i forgot…” you pause for a moment and then giggle even harder, so hard it turns into a full on cackle. you finally breakaway from your trance of the pink slipper and cool ranch doritos to find ellie staring at you. her eyes are bloodshot, squinting slightly, and her gaze almost causes you to let out a little yelp. ellie’s hands continue their pattern, and you’re finally suddenly aware of it. goosebumps follow in her trace, she’s smirking at you slightly, “it’s okay…” she smiles fully “you’ll remember…and you’re hot…so s’okay i think,” she mumbles and shrugs.
“damn right, baby,” you laugh hard and look her in the eye. you’ve never noticed just how green they are. like the trees outside jackson, strong and resilient. the grass in the fields, flowing without a care in the world. the moss covered rocks you find in the river. your eyes slowly move to her freckles, counting each one. you reach up to trace constellations in them, creating a full sky of stars. your fingertips drag to her lips, feeling them softly. they’re chapped, but soft. under your fingers your feel a smirk form. you finally look her back in the eye and giggle again.
“holy shit…” you whisper and slowly straddle her lap, a different feeling...desire, overtaking your hazed state. luckily, she graciously accepts the new position, she has been waiting all night for this after all. with deep breaths from the both of you, you analyze the other’s face, from their worry lines to their pores, and it’s all just…beautiful. it’s perfect. you slowly and gently place your lips on ellie’s, and she sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around your waist tightly, gripping you. the kiss is full of love and adoration, nothing else. nothing else matters except you two, like you’re the only two people in the world. as your lips collide and tongues intertwine you’re positive that you were made precisely for this moment. you swear. and no, it’s not the weed. you promise.
#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#the last of us#tlou#ellie x reader
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anakin doesn't like people touching his hair and you just love teasing your boyfriend
i just know how angry ani gets when someone who isn't you comes anywhere close to his hair.
its not because he spends hours doing it in the morning, because lets be real. anakin has better things to be doing with his time, like betraying the jedi order. he simply hops in the shower every morning with you, using your birthday cake shampoo that you scold him for every-time you see him use way more than he needs to, gets out, drys it with a towel and then goes on with the rest of his day. if he's taking you out someplace special he might go over it with some gel, but thats about the extent of it.
the second someones hands come close to anakins hair, he struggles to resist the urge to pull out his lightsaber and slice them clean off. like that one time obi-wan decided to congratulate anakins success in his duelling victory with another padawan when he was 16. lets just say that obi-wan never touched anakins hair again.
but of course when it comes to you, ani yearns to hand your hands in his hair constantly.
<3
after a hard day at the jedi temple, you watch as ani slumps beside you on the couch while you're watching you're favourite reality show on television. after taking off his heavy robes, he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, nose and lips before resting his head on your lap. you know what he's asking for, but you decided to test his patience.
you smiled to your self and your new plan, your hands still resting beside you. as seconds pass and anakin doesn't feel your long acrylic nails raking through his scalp, he turns to face you. with his head still squished against your thighs, he frowns at you.
"what ani? why do you look so grumpy?" you giggle, taking your thumb and swiping is across the pout on his lips. "you know why." he states sternly. "do i though? because it seems my mind is blank." you tease.
what he does next is unexpected in the moment, but is so in anakins style. he pushes himself up by his hands, and grabs your hips. you squeal as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, placing your body onto his lap so you're straddling him on the couch.
this is how he liked it, because even if you were on top of him, he was in control. you never like to admit it, because you strive yourself on being strong and that no one has the higher ground in the relationship, but you both know thats not the case.
anakin thrived off of your dependency on him, he loved that more than 99 percent of the time he knew that he was in control of a situation. and that reflected greatly on how your relationship dynamic was. anakin was brooding, protective, arrogant and didn't take shit from anyone. and you, well you were like a ray of sunshine, you really went where ever the wind took you and you didn't really mind much about what other people said about you. you didn't hate many things and you had always seen people saying bad things are that they were learning, and that it was really a reflection of how they were feeling on the inside.
you did however find pride in your self in a certain moment when a man on the streets of downtown Coruscant whistled at you suggestively, and that he cowered when you gave him a lecture on respect and quietly apologised before scurrying off. what anakin would never tell you though is that, in the moment he stood behind you, all tall, dark and powerful, moving to rest his hand over his lightsaber and staring straight into the eyes of the man infront of you.
anakin was a force that wasn't to be reckoned with, but you liked to tease him everyonce in a while. and you always paid for it.
ani's rough large hands ghosting over your sides snaps you out of your thoughts quickly. remembering what you were doing, you giggled at how little it took for you to piss off your sweet loving boyfriend. placing your hands on his rock hard chest, you voiced softly "im not joking ani, i really don't know why you're all grumpy"
"hmm, how am i not believing a word thats coming out of your mouth pretty girl" he rasped, trailing kisses down your neck. he knew you would break when he started kissing you, but you persevered. you just wanted him to admit he liked when you scratched his head, how hard was that?
"i don't know ani! maybe if you tell me what you want me to do then i can help you." he wasn't buying your act, at all. anakin was secure enough that he didn't care that he liked when his girlfriend played with his hair, shit, he would tell the whole world if he had to. but he cared when you were teasing him, and he loved putting you back in line.
"well, if i didn't know any better, id think my good girl was teasing me" his kisses now moved from your neck down to your chest, your tiny laced floral tank not giving much coverage to your cleavage from his lovebites. "im not ani" you whined, his jaw ticking at your choice of tone. "maybe you just need to start taking control in this relationship"
you knew you were done for the second those words left your mouth, ani didn't like when you used your so called 'bratty voice' and he really didn't like it when you questioned his authority. you were sending prayers to every god you could think of as his jaw clenched tightly and his fingers gripped the fabric of your tank top.
he stood up unexpectedly, you legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he held your thighs up. you couldn't help but let out a small 'oh my god’ as he started making his way towards your shared bedroom.
"no baby, no god. just me.”
<3
yall this is a mess im so sorry... feel free to not count this when you think of my writing thankq <33
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker drabble#star wars imagine#anibear
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for this disability pride month, i want to highlight a couple of things with autism and ahdhd, particularly in girls.
if your teen girl is staying up every single night until 3 am doing homework, and she's been at it since 230 pm when she got home from school... that needs to be acknowledged and addressed. thats not normal, even the insane amounts of schoolwork that a white rich school would require for students in those college level courses wouldnt require almost 12 hours of studying a night. especially if her grades don't reflect that level of attention.
if your teen girl forgets things constantly, if she makes mistakes in sending the right documents or doesnt buy what you tell her to at the store, she is not lazy, stupid or malicious. these are symptoms that need to be acknowledged and addressed, this is not normal brain behavior. there is something going on cognitively.
if your teen girl is amazing and lovely until she's explosively angry, she's not an evil person hellbent on ruining the family. this is emotional disregulation, she needs help. these are symptons that need to be acknowledged and addressed.
if your teen girl is talkative and likes being around you until she doesnt, and if she goes silent until she's allowed to go to her room and sleep off the grumpiness, she's not being hateful towards you. she is likely burnt-out socializing and needs to gain her energy back, let her be. this is a symptom that needs to be addressed and acknowledged.
if your daughter constantly needs to chew on gum, even after you berate and shame her for doing so, to the point where her jaw often hurts, this is not her being defiant. this is a symptom and needs to be addressed and acknowledged.
if your daughter walks funny, laughs funny, dances weird, cries too much at commercials that are overly dramatic, and you make her feel bad for displaying any of these traits, you're harming her. let her exist in this world without feeling the need to box in her behavior into "acceptable" mannerisms. unlearn what it means to walk, laugh, dance "funny" and examine why you feel the need to bully people who don't behave in ways you've approved beforehand.
if your daughter has had trouble making friends her entire life and if you often catch her talking to herself in rehearsing full on conversations, she is most likely exhibiting symptoms of autism and these need to be acknowledged and addressed.
if your daughter learned to do things early on and had an extensive vocabulary or skipped the crawling stage and walked immediately, or if your daughter never learned how to "play properly" i.e. she loved having toys but only to organize and line them up and refused to let anyone else touch them, your daughter is exhibiting symptoms of autism that need to be acknowledged and addressed.
if your daughter often refuses to acknowledge her tone or states that "i didnt say it like that" "i didnt say that" or "thats not what i meant" and if she repeatedly tells you "i dont understand what tone you're talking about" she is not gaslighting or manipulating you. she is not being stubborn, she is not lying. she is exhibiting signs of autism that need to be acknowledged and addressed.
if your daughter only likes to eat certain things, to the point that it affects her health, she is not a picky eater. this is a symptom that must be acknowledged and addressed.
if your daughter is black and white in her thinking, to the point where she will argue with you about things that she thinks are objectively unfair or wrong to her, she is not doing it out of spite. she is exhibiting symptoms that must be addressed and acknowledged.
if your daughter loses her shit at not being allowed to sleep in on the weekends, especially if you know she's been pulling 12 hour "study sessions" all week, she is not being spoiled and ungrateful. she is exhibiting signs of autism/adhd burn out and she biologically needs to sleep more than other people to begin with, let alone in the situation that she is currently in.
please stop demonizing the behavior of your teenage daughters and start looking at each individual situation as pieces to a larger puzzle. if your daughter shows a majority of these signs, please start looking at these behaviors as manifestions of the symptoms that are distressing your child in that moment.
autism in girls is often treated as "bad behavior" that parents often try to "discipline" out instead of symptomatic behavior of a disorder that has gone unmanaged and unaccomodated for probably over a decade and half at that point. please treat your daughters with respect, love and dignity even in their worst times because that is when they need the most.
it doesn't help when you demonize your child as being purposely spiteful and hateful towards you, especially if you feel like you've communicated with them sufficiently and they aren't listening or compromising with you at the very least, because your children *do not* want to hurt you. your children are begging to be heard and you refuse to help them.
please research autism and adhd, especially how it can differ in girls versus boys, and please start treating your teenage girls with more love, kindness, and empathy.
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im back with my chad requests
youre at the party and youre dressed like a cowgirl to match chad but you have his leather man on cause we love a good leather man moment and either your ex or some random dude pops up and just wont leave you alone and youre like on the verge of tears at this point and mindy is like nuh uh get tf away and gets chads attention and chad just digs into him then you have a sweet lil kiss scene
you and your chad asks but how I love you for them.
BACK OFF
chad meeks martin x reader!!
parties were supposed to be fun, especially this one. its a Halloween party and what did you do? you matched with chad as a cow girl, he was a cow boy, it only made sense.
however you had his lettermen on to show people that even during Halloween you were his and would always be his. he liked to see it on you and you liked to wear it, it was almost a reward for just simply being his girlfriend.
"hey im going to get a drink , do you want anything?" chad asked you from behind, his hands were on your waist and you turned your head to look at him
"just a water thanks babe" you said as you leaned up and kissed him, he kissed you back with a smile on his face before he walked away.
"god youre so in love its gross, I'm going to find anika" mindy said as she walked away. you leaned against the wall as you looked around,
"y/n y/'l/n is that you?" you heard and you turned your head to see your ex boyfriend making his way over to you
"hey sean" you said uncomfortably
"hey, how have you been?" he asked as he looked you up and down with a smirk on his face.
"im fine and how are you?" you just wanted him to leave
"im good, you know i miss you a lot. we should hang out soon" he said and he put his hand on your shoulder
"dont touch me" you said as you shoved his hand off of your shoulder and he laughed.
"okay come on y/n, you know you miss me" he exclaimed and you shook your head
" i am so better off without you" you told him and he sucked his teeth.
"you dont mean that" he faught. you looked around where was chad?
"youre not getting out of this baby, just accept this" he tried to lean in but chad showed up after mindy had told him that someone was harassing you and wouldn't leave you alone. chad walked over and shoved him off you
"back off fuckface" he stated and sean looked at chad who looked down at you in worry.
"are you okay?" he asked as he looked you over.
"yeah yeah im okay" you told him and sean scoffs.
"hey man, i didnt know she had a boyfriend. she came onto me" sean said and chad turned to look at him
"i suggest you walk away before i beat the shit out of you and no one stops me" chad said as he stared into seans eyes. sean looked at the ground and walked away
"are you sure youre okay?" he asked and you nodded
"i promise im okay. im just happy you showed up at the right time" you told him and he smiled
"I am too" he said and he leaned in as he kissed you and you kissed him back.
he had you and thats what made you feel safe. he had you
a/n: BOYFRIEND CHAD
#chad meeks martin angst#chad meeks martin x you#chad meeks martin x y/n#chad meeks martin x reader#chad meeks martin#mason gooding#scream 6#scream#scream fanfic
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SO I JUST SAW FALSETTOS LIVE FOR THE FIRST TIME
HOLY SHIT OKAY. HEY GUYS I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING FALSETTOS. LIVE. MY FAVOROITE MUSICAL EVER. I HAVE WORDS TO SAY.
So firstly I of course have to say this musical is fucking phenomenal and if u havent seen it even on youtube you HAVE to. onne of the best musicals ever wrutten. ignore any typos in this my hands r still shaking and im not editing htis. OKAY.
The actors. It was a college level production but the actors were so so talented. My favorite performances were from Mendel and Jason, who both pulled off their roles INCREDIBLY. Mendel was like a carbon copy of Brandon Uranowitz he had his mannerisms DOWN. All the nervous ticks, touching his face, being generally so awkward all the time, even his face was just perfec t for the role. And Jason was played by an adult femme-presenting person but they were so good as him!!!!! their voice fit him perfectly and she also perfectly encompassed Jason;s awkward childlike nature. The entire cast was incredible but those two really stood out to me!!!! Everyone's singing voices as well were fantastic, especially Trina's—she KILLED the high notes and even sung up the octave on a few lines !!!! including the "but still the bastard divorced me" and she still belted the "you must exorcise a devil" even AFTER Im Breaking Down. In fucking sane.
THAT BEING SAID THOUGH. Even though i enjouyed every second of it I do wanna make some more analysis-related directing critiques because im fucked up and evil about this show . im so sorry just let me speak here meaout. Stating right now though I've only seen the 2016 revival (about 2 dozen times) and not the original 90's version (been meaning to watch it just havent gotten the chance) so i reserve all TRUE judgement until after I see it!!! maybe some of these choices were in the original but tbh if they were i still like how the revival did it better. okay i swear im not just one of those ppl who is like "tHaTS noT hOw ThEY dId iT On BroADwAy" calm down. thanks <3
First of all. Some of the scenes lacked energy !!!!! Thrill of first love had no homoerotic choreography!!!!! they just kinda sat there on the couch looking morose and barely looking at each other as if they truly just hate each other and feel ANYthing towards each other anymore at all. But thats not the point!!!!!! They dont fully hate each other theyre just lacking the excitement that they once had and it's been replaced with nothing but disagreements and sex. When Whizzer and Marvin do their gay little dance theyre not just dancing and being gross and sexual theyre also FIGHTING!!!! they still care about each other they just dont know how to act!!!! and marvin's a bitch of course. Marvin was still very much a bitch. But because of the lack of energy in this song there was a bit of a lack of chemistry between the two as well, which carried through the whole show. I feel like it's important to see just how gross fucked up n nasty these two are about each other to see how its truly affecting the other people in Marvin's life. Even their chemistry during the chess game was lacking. They just kinda felt like they really hated each other. Which isnt the pointtttttt. Guh
Trina (or the directors idk) also made some choices I wasn't 100% on board with but they were more subtle. Mostly in her tone about Mendel. Up through Please Come To Our House she seemed to really really like Mendel. Like it was clear she was attempting to woo him. But then when he was proposing, and when they were maknig their home together, she just seemed. Unenthused. I know Trina truly doesn't really love her life, and just needs the stability of a nuclear family, but it was odd to see her not even attempt to keep up the facade on her own. Her and Mendel were similarly lacking in a lot of chemistry because of this, which, maybe to some of you makes sense but to me i do want to see them be close even if Mendel isn't absolutely the best.
LAST CRITIQUE OKAY. This one is BIG SPOILERS if u havent seen it yet but probably if ur reading this far youve already seen it okay. The fuckign bar mitzvah!!!!! There was no acknowledgement from Whizzer to Jason as he was reading his Torah !!!!!!! He just layed there in the hospital bed, facing AWAY from the audience so we could only see the very top of his head (which was on purpose for a quick change but) and he didnt get up at all to thank Jason or even acknowledge him :( for all the audience knows maybe he didnt even see Jason get bar mitzvahd. screaming crying throwing up.
OKAY IM DONE W BEING MEAN HERES A BIG CHANGE I REALLY LOVED !!!!!! as well as some smaller changes that i also really liked or were jsut neutral things i noticed
For most of act 2, up until Days Like This, They had this really cool circus imagery? Now once again idk if this is in the OG, but they had a picture of each cluster of characters set up on either side of the stage, and each of them was doing some sort of circus act both in the pictures and on stage, especially during A Day in Falsettoland. When a character was having their point in the song, they'd sometimes cut the lights briefly and suddenly the characters would be struggling to perform their little circus act, and each of them had a differnt one respectively and they all represented their immaturities/flaws/struggles:
Jason was on stilts, representing his need to grow up and perhaps his perceived mental maturity compared to the other characters
Trina was balancing/spinning plates on sticks, representing her need to keep balance and order in her life
Marvin + Whizzer were fencers because of their lingering animosity, yet newfound respect, for one another. Fencing isnt a dangerous sport, like you dont actually hurt your opponent in it, but it;s still a fight and youre still pointoing a weapon at them. guh. (AND BTW they did this during the racquetball scene and HOLY SHIT. I just gotta describe this one. Racquetball number 1 They had their little racquets as they were singing to each other but then when they got really into the game the lights would cut and then theyd be FENCING each other instead!!!!! and then the lights would cut again and itd go back to racquetball!!!! BUT THEN in the racquetball number 2 when it cut to them fencing ONLY MARVIN HAD A SWORD. WHIZZER STILL HAD HIS RACQUET. GIUUHUHGGHGHGHGHGH.;..,.,/;;'.';.;'[[[.)
Then the lesbians from next door were like a duo balancing/acrobatics act where they were always leaning on each other and picking each other up which was cute but also like. Charlotte would start falling in one direction and Cordelia would have to scrambke to catch her. I always hail them as the healthiest couple in the show but sometimes i forget they have problems too, like Cordelia;s insecurity and Charlotte's stress over the virus of course.
And finally Mendel!!!! was the fucking ringmaster!!!!! He had a hoop and a top hat and every time he was trying to calm down Jason (Everyone Hates His Parents), or Caroline, or Trina (A Day in Falsettoland), he would appear with his hoop and top hat, to show that HE is the one who needs to "control" other people's lives, or at least he feels the need to direct them. Mendel of course needs to feel like he's smarter than everyone else and like he's the only one who can help people. It really drove that home and it was an insane realization to come to. Phenomenal directing choice idk who came up with that but. bravissimo to you
Now miscellaneous stuff i liked or noticed!!!
They didn't have the big ol foam block. just some couch ends that they moved around to be diff pieces of furniture. If you've ever seen Waiting In The Wings' analysis on falsettos you might have seen a comment in the youtube section discussing how in the set design for the revival, the lack of real furniture through most of the show represents the lack of maturity of the characters, and as things get serious for them, more real props and set pieces get added. Like the chess board, the decor for Mendel + Trina's home, Whizzer's suitcase, the whole hospital room, etc. They didn't lean into that with this but i think that's fine! its not a necessary detail in my opinion and they did their best with what they had!!
Marvin didn't hand whizzer the suitcase after the chess game. He just grabbed it, and packed it himself. I was waiting for him to slam it into whizzer's chest or something. but no. Whizzer just picked it up and walked off. okay. Neutral bad change imo
Marvin's performances of What would I do and What more can i Say were. Breathtaking. Marvin actor if you're out there reading this your voice is lovely and carries so much emotion in your solo numbers. I Did Cry. a little bit
god their group number harmonies were AMAZING. All of the cast members' voices blended together so well and it was absolutely beautiful. the whole show was beautiful and i adored it i swear. I jsut need somwhere to put my feelings
THE ORCHESTRA FUCKED. IT FUCKED
Okay its getting late now and im fading quickly BUT IF U READ THIS FAR UR INSANE. This is for me and nobody else i just eneded to feelings dump. tl;dr: i fucking lvoe falsettos this was one of the best nights of my life i love you actors i love you pit i love you lighting i love you run crew i love you sound crew i love you musical theatre
#falsettos#falsettos 2016#musicals#musical theater#musical review#rambles#ramblings#shiksa caterer#short insomniacs#hypochondriacs#yiddish americans#spiky families#radiologist#intellectuals#nervous wrecks#sigh#falsettoland
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Hi hello since the states are gonna get blasted with cold soon I figured I'd shave some Helpful Cold Survival Advice I've absorbed as someone who lives in an area that hits -50C/-58F temperatures periodically
-Starting with a somewhat obvious one, but HOLY SHIT DO NOT BRING BARBECUES, GENERATORS, OR ANY OTHER FORM OF OUTDOOR HEAT SOURCE INSIDE FOR WARMTH. CO poisoning WILL kill you if you don't accidentally start a fire in the process.
-If you wanna stay in your car and turn the heat up for warmth DO NOT do it in the garage. Again. CO poisoning.
-You can turn up your stove/ oven and crack the oven door open in an emergency if you have zero other heat sources available, but only if its electric (Gas stoves will generate carbon mono...yeah you get it already), and even then its going to be much less energy efficient than a normal space heater, and you're gonna want to stay nearby while it's on to make sure you don't start a fire.
-Don't plug a space heater into a power bar or extention cord unless you're 100% sure it has a high quality cord. They need an absurd amount of power to run, and most extention cords in particular aren't insulated enough to handle those levels of power without becoming a fire hazard. And for the love of God, don't run multiple heaters on one power bar.
-Candles don't actually do much to generate heat unless you're ina very small area, but they ARE an excellent light source should power go out
- tragically, the best way to keep warm in the absence of home heating is through boring ol layering, especially on your feet and head. Avoid jeans, as they're somehow terrible at heat retention despite how thick they are, and throw on a pair of long underwear/leggings if you have some. Also feel free to pile as many blankets as you own on top of yourself, you deserve it.
-Youre gonna want to stay well fed, too. Keeping your body temperature up in the cold is pretty calorically demanding, AND the digestive process tends to heat your body up as well. Its a win/win.
-Also unfortunate: another excellent way to stay warm is through your enemy and mine, physical activity. Every half hour or so, pace around your living space to get the ol blood pumping a bit.
-If you get wet outside while it's substantially cold out, get inside as soon as possible bc that WILL suck the heat from your body. This goes for sweat too, so layer responsibly if you're out shoveling
-Electric blankets are a scam, don't buy them.
-heating pads and heated mattress covers are less of a scam, but don't fall asleep with them on bc once again, fire hazard.
-If you have any faucets in your house that don't see a lot of use/you live somewhere that doesn't usually see cold weather, keep all your faucets on just a bit so your pipes don't freeze and/or explode. This WILL cost thousands of dollars to fix.
-Likewise, if you're traveling for the holidays see if you can have someone come by to turn the faucets on every day or two so you don't come home to find your house sunk into the ground
-ALSO if you're traveling and think "hm, I think I'll turn off the heat while I'm out to save some money that is the devil speaking, do NOT listen. (Heating helps keep the pipes warm and unfrozen)
-Fill your bathtub up with water and/or stock up on bottled water if you're gonna be getting unusually cold temperatures in case your pipes DO freeze, since you're probably not gonna want to hit up the store should this occur
-Stay off the roads if you can help it. Turbocold weather makes cars periodically fail to start, and also the second snow touches the ground people somehow forget how to drive.
-IMO If it's below -38C before windchill, you have a substantial commute, and you have any PTO/can afford to miss a shift at work, don't bother going in. Just lie and say your car wouldn't start.
-If you absolutely need to go to work/go out for whatever reason, take public transit if possible. If thats not possible, keep some blankets, food, candles, and a lighter in your car in case the battery dies on the road so you can stay toasty and Alive until help arrives.
Probably gonna add more as I remember it, but thems the basics! Stay warm!
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AAAAAAA I WANNA GIVE YOU A BIG PLATONIC SMOOCH I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH
ok ok recently I have been infected with eustass kid and was hoping you could write for him with a male reader nothing specific I feel like he would be so angry if his testosterone filled crew made fun of him for it. Love your work ❤️
AWWW THATS SO SWEET OF YOU DEAR! 💗
PLATONIC KISSES 😚😚
thank you so much!! I’d love to write for you but I simply don’t know much about kid!! I’m on the marineford arc- 😭😭 I usually turn down characters I don’t know much about him but you seem like such a sweetie! After having done some research..Here ya go!~
As stated I’ve chosen to research as much as possible in fandom and other’s headcanons! This may not be the most accurate but I sincerely hope your satisfied with my attempt dearest!~
I feel Kid would think of food as a sort of affection
so technically gift giving??
but it’s like his love language is food
his favorite is cabbage rolls right?? Welllll he loves to eat them together!
not…together together
he buys it for y’all separately
I doubt he’d want to share his favorite food 😭
if you beg for his in a case where he didn’t get you some...
“what?! No! This is my food get your own!….ugggghh FINE! You get a half! This was supposed to be for me”
(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾
I also feel he’d be better off witth someone who’s either all for his rambunctiousness or (somehow) able to calm him down (like killer)
if your just as reckless as him great! Your adventures are now considered dates :)
not necessarily, but he’s fond of them as if they are
he’s always recalling on past times you’ve fought together
you know how people say someone you’ve fought a war with knows you better than a friend?
yeah, I feel like that’s why he has such high respects for his crew
And of course because they’re his crew
so yeah he feels closer to you every time you fight together
if you want you can listen to the song ‘one thing’ by amerie- the lyrics remind me of him idk why (keep in mind I don’t know this guy well :3)
kid would allow you to ride on his shoulders
you could just kinda hop up there casually and he won’t say anything
privileges
but I feel like if he’s in a foul mood or busy he’d grab you buy the waist and sit you down somewhere LOL
another way to spend time with him would be to do your make up at the same time (if you wear it)
(love that it’s casual for men to wear make up in one piece)
he seems like he would be anal about his so you’d be doing your own and he does his, but it’s still fun to do it together
he’s kinda like that with most things
which now that I realize it that could count as quality time
so the conclusion I’ve come to?
his love languages are gift giving or quality time
but thinking about it now I feel he may also do acts of service
now this isn’t as intentional
he just takes pride in likes to help you with things he knows he could do better
aw man you broke your ___? Well I’m sure he could fix it! 😼💪
If you initiate physical touch his reaction will range based on where you are/who’s around and how much it is
if there’s barely anyone/no one around and you give him a peck on the cheek? Fine. He’ll just half smile at you
if it’s a public area and your trying to kiss him on the lips? “Cut it out! Don’t get distracted we’re here to (xyz)!”
he can’t display the weakness of not being masculine
besides he hates cute n’ cuddly crap 😒
he’d be so proud if his boyfriend physically strong
It even boosts HIS ego
especially since your his ♥︎
he takes care of you in subtle ways
such as making sure your eating, not over working and getting enough sleep
”hey! I haven’t seen you eat all day! Get in the kitchen and tell killer to make ya’ somethin’!”
”how long have you been at that!? Get up and come over here!”
”what on earth are ya’ still doing awake?! Go to sleep! Captains orders..”
killer occasionally asks how your relationship is going
kid’ll tell em a few things but he tries not to get sentimental
trust that’s a lot more than what he tells other people..”
”screw off! mind your own business..”
this is really random but he seems like the type of guy who’s always grumbling
idk I just had to say it..
would enjoy headrubs (IN PRIVATE)
and it has to be casual, don’t baby him about it :P
”your hairs’ really fluffy/soft” *casual headrubs*
like that
you have to compliment stroke his ego so he won’t get angry then pat him
to be more specific about reader being a male :
Even if you don’t hc kid to be straight (idk what i hc him to be idk em enough)
his ego is HURT when he realizes he’s in love with you
love?! What is such weakness?! such DISEASE?!
the fact that he’s in the lgbtq bc of one guy kinda makes him angry
cuz like now (some) people are gonna categorize or even ridicule him for even liking you
even though he’s angry about it, it’s not for the same reason
he’s upset because he fell weak to love in general
homophobes may be upset because he likes a man
what does it matter?! He sure never cared..
you can tell the first thing this guy sees is NOT gender
it’s—threat? Or no threat?
so ya- essentially what I’m saying is he doesn’t care for gender- except when it comes to homophobes
then he’s angry 🙂☝️
and as for his crew making fun of him?!
oh he’s absolutely livid. 😄💥
”SHADDUP’ YA STINKIN’ MAGGOTS! I AM NOT WEAK!!”
Actually- they didn’t call him weak. That’s just what he hears 😂
btw that is not what he said I censored it bc I headcanon him to have a potty mouth (and I don’t)
his skin and hair is the same color from how angry this dude is
HE’S LITERALLY LIKE ‘😡’
HAHAHAH
He always storms off whenever they bring up his ‘sOft SpOt” for you 😋
he’s not even soft really he just goes out of his way to do stuff for/with you
its not they’re business anyway?!
right killer?!
while I was researching I saw that the flower he resembles is a tulip! That’s my favorite flower!! 🌷♥︎♡
Enjoy! I did my best 😅
#anime#anime and manga#luffyvace#anime headcanons#fluff headcanons#fluff#one piece#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#i tried my best#my attempt#kid pirates#eustass kid#kid one piece#kid op#eustasscaptainkid#captain kid#one piece kid#kid x reader#kid x you#kid x male reader#male reader#x male reader#masc aligned#one piece x male reader#enjoy <3#dear anon#thank you anon#answered
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speak nowww
Slytherin Boys as Speak Now Songs
*in perspective of their relationship with you AND their personality. and why*
here's speak now (tv ofc), 1989 is on the way; which taylor swift album should i do next?
(mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, theo nott, lorenzo berkshire)
slytherin boys masterlist nav
mattheo riddle as Better Than Revenge
best lyric(s) - "she should keep in mind there is nothing I do better than revenge" + "she underestimated just who she was stealing from"
explanation - so, as stated in ttpd version (here), mattheo has a lot of pent up frustration and anger. so he's really good at getting back at people. especially when he gets into a relationship with a partner he really cares about and they ask him not to be mean or attack people for no reason. then he has to channel all his efforts into just getting back at people who bother him. (even though sometimes bothering him is just looking at him even slightly sideways).
w/ his partner - with his partner, mattheo has absolutely no regrets or qualms about being an absolute menace to society. since he began dating them, he's been much less volatile than his normal self, but whenever people get a little too cocky and do absolutely anything at or to you, all bets are off. then mattheo feels that its necessary to step up and remind people that he's still the dark lord's son and he will be the dark lord's son if he has to.
draco malfoy as Speak Now
best lyric(s) - "don't say yes, run away now, ill meet you when you're out" + "horrified looks from everyone in the room but i'm only looking at you"
explanation - I feel like draco is the kind of guy who would totally 1000% crash your wedding if you were ever marrying someone other than him. (*I just read this theo fic abt him crashing readers wedding, ill try and find it and link it here*) But anyways, he would totally crash your wedding. like at first he would feel really bad for even thinking about it but then he would legit just stroll into the chapel like "you can't marry him, you're supposed to marry me" even if he like never mentioned anything about his feelings for you. he mentioned them in his way aka glaring at you slightly less intense than he does everyone else. how could you not notice that he was in love with you?
w a partner - def more silly and cute than anything, but i like to think that when you first started dating (esp if youre a gryff or a huffle) draco would make it his personal mission to embarrass the hell out of you by saying the most out of pocket things in front of like the other slytherins or just in the middle of class as loudly as possible. he just likes to see the little blush on your cheeks whenever he says something that he most definitely should not be saying out loud.
theodore nott as Electric Touch
best lyric(s) - "all I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life" + "I'm tryin hard not to look like I'm trying"
explanation - theo is that guy thats scared of commitment. (sorry to all the theo girlies me included but we gotta admit it at some point). it's not that he doesn't care about his partner, it's just that he's terrified of commitment. there's way too much that could go wrong. he learned very early on that you could do everything right, love someone completely, treat them wonderfully, and then they could just die. but bc his mother passed at such a young age he has a very distorted point of view on this because in his head, he's like but what if they just die???
w/ a partner - that being said, when theo finds that person that's like the one for him, he wants to commit so bad. and he puts all of his effort into it, like he'll call you his girlfriend, he'll spend an exorbitant amount of money on you, he'll even buy you a damn ring, but he won't let you get emotionally close to him. and it kind of freaks him out when he finds himself wanting you to know him in that way. when you finally confront him about one day and he's like, what if you just like died?? and you're just sitting there across from him like '...'
theo, wtf? i'm not just gonna like keel over one day.
after that he kind of lets you in a little and after a few months when he's sure you're not just gonna suddenly fall over, then he's completely fine and continues on like nothing ever happened. (its a little amusing in the hindsight of it all)
lorenzo berkshire as Dear John
best lyric(s) - "don't you think 19's too young to be played by your dark twisted games" + "cause you burned them out, but I took your matches before fire could catch me"
explanation - I don't think it's really talked about enough how much emotional support that enzo needs. his own family aside, he still grew up around death eaters and that surely cannot be healthy for a guy. so when he finally is an adult, i like to think that he looked into some kind of therapy option wizard, muggle, or otherwise. i think that he probably also struggled a little with the friends that he lost during the entire ordeal that he wishes he could've saved (almost like survivor's guilt)
w a partner - so when it comes to a partner, i really think that he needs someone who sees him. that's really important to him that he's with someone that he could just let go with and not have to worry about always being either grinning or stonefaced. He'd like to be able to feel his entire range of emotions without hindrance and he's only really gonna feel safe to do that with a partner.
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4.25.24
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#slytherin boys#theodore nott#slytherin#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys x reader#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire x reader#draco malfoy x reader
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