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#or like when I sing songs for them and they memorize them
spocksgotemotions · 4 months
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so like to put kids down for nap I have one kid I read poems to and another kid I make up stories for. And lately the boy I read poems to has started like saying the lines along with me and the girl I make up stories for has started finishing my sentences (every story begins the same way and she knows it!!). And it’s like I tell my coworkers or people this and I’m super excited because not only are the kids being smart but it’s also like showing that I’m making an impact you know?
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castielafflicted · 5 months
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using my fucking youtube music library instead of spotify because my roommate and I are halfway through my 8.5 hour long playlist on shuffle and I refuse to have to reshuffle the playlist.
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femme-malewife · 1 year
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I think me and Duck were switched at birth or something LMAO
All of my siblings are amazing at art, don’t even need to try. But I can sing and dance. Hell, I made the highest choir that a freshman could get into back in high school choir tryouts, and then in my second year I was in the highest choir + I tried out for a “show choir” (which was singing and dancing, only 10 - 12 girls could get in and only 2nd highest and highest choir girls can try out) and made that as well.
Meanwhile, Duck’s amazing at art and their siblings are good at singing...
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euthymiaaa · 5 months
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— slow burn for friends to lovers˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
aaaa slow burn man, enjoy LOL
delicate hugs, but they linger longer the more both of you do it
"why are you staring? is there something on my face?"
gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better
handholding where your hands are intertwined tightly with theirs
late night calls where one of you accidentally falls asleep
them reading you like an open book, especially knowing when you're going through difficult times
"i can't imagine who i'd be without you in my life"
wanting more physical affection yet you don't want to overstep
yearning to constantly be in their presence
platonic sleepovers that somehow ends up with you waking up with their arms around you
buying matching jewelry, but it doesn't mean anything right?
getting extremely worried when they get physically hurt
memorizing their coffee/tea order so you can buy it for them every morning
"you're so oblivious aren't you"
accidentally staring a bit too long at their lips
watching your favorite movies together
singing your favorite love song to them as if you are truly dedicating the song to them
"you drew stars around my scars" (cardigan by taylor swift)
feeling like your complete self when you're with them
sharing each other's clothes (especially hoodies)
hearing rumors that they have a crush and desperately hoping that it is you who they are crushing on
the urge to confess to them whenever you see them, yet you fear losing them
"what are we to each other?"
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sixstringpansy · 1 year
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I am begging and pleading for the English version of Sprint by Last Alliance to be released. I am on my knees. I am BEGGING. PLEASE.
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soobnny · 10 months
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classmate au | lee heeseung
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❝ hey, i’ll go ahead. i have to walk (name) home. ❞
HEESEUNG | jay | jake | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki
look…. i know this says classmate au
BUT but but but hear me out
he’s your senior
maybe a year or two years older
AND he’s your neighbor, next door neighbor lee heeseung
do you see where i’m going with this
he walks you home to school every morning and every after class
your parents r also pretty close so you’re always hanging by each other’s house
THO he’s more of like an unattainable senior so handsome 😞😞 yall dont talk much when you’re having that little family get together
he tries talking to u tho … but you run away pretty fast
it’s always that awkward sitting beside each other while your parents talk to each other
…. awkward eye contact
SO YEAH he walks you to school every morning and after class by your mom’s request
heeseung always walks by the side of the road like the gentleman he is
will pull you by the waist when you attempt to even walk on that side so he can switch you two
and always waits for you outside your class or by the student council office to walk you home
sometimes 💔💔💔💔 during basketball practice … he does that thing where he goes home ahead so he can walk u home
the moment you walk into the basketball gym, wide eyes searching for heeseung ?!
he’s already dismissing himself .. saying goodbye to his friends and the couch and slinging your bag on his shoulder
you think he only views you as a little sister this SUCKS !!!!!
ah you are so wrong.
oh also lee heeseung student athlete and face of the school, just thought i’d mention
sometimes, he even appears in your classes to assist the teacher like what CAN’T he do
the teacher encounters some tech difficulties with the powerpoint???
“hey (name), can you call heeseung?”
you quietly slip out of the classroom and hurry to his
(he gave you his class schedule in case you ever needed anything… so you know where to find him…)
“excuse me, mr. hwang is looking for heeseung?” you’d tell the teacher
and their whole class would burst into SCREAMS and teasing as heeseung is pushed towards the door
“hey, you okay? how was your day?” he’d always catch up with you in that small time
dear god please have mercy.
he’d have a hand on the small of your waist to guide you along the hallways too
AND TUTORING
Lee Heeseung who is naturally good at everything is also smart
he tutors you at his house after class when you’re having a hard time
as a reward, sometimes, you guys would play video games
you ended up falling asleep at his house once and heeseung had to tell his mom to call yours so she wouldn’t worry
you wake up to blankets draped all over you and heeseung sleeping on the floor i’m so sad
karaoke is always fun in these family outings bc your family always makes you sing duets
atp you guys have every disney and broadway duets DOWN and memorized
though it does make you blush and all giggly when he makes intense eye contact while seeing to you
“now she’s here, shining in the starlight. now she’s here, suddenly i know. if she’s here, it’s crystal clear, i’m where i’m meant to go.”
he is a fantastic singer and he makes you forget to sing your parts sometimes
ALWAYS ENDS A SONG IN A HUG while your parents violently clap in the background
during the sports festival, the teachers ltrly let him join all the sports and he just accepts 😭😭
if he’s not playing, he’s facilitating
“do you have an event for this year’s sports festival?” he’d ask one night as he’s walking you home
“oh no. i’m just joining the cheer contest with sunoo on the first day.”
“do you think you could cheer for me?”
HE’S ASKING YOU TO CHEER FOR HIM
of course you say yes
and his eyes are on you in every sport he plays
basketball… volleyball… badminton… you name them all!
he’d look to you before serving the ball and point at you when he shoots a ball in bkb
heeseung would win every game for you
because the thrill in your smile is too wide to disappoint
and also because he has a big fat crush on you
goes to hug you after every game
“my good luck charm” as he liked to call you
BYEEEEEE bye leave me alone please
you’re HIS good luck charm
you pretend to be annoyed because he’s sweating so he teases you by hugging you even more
he lets you hold his spare shirt AND lets you wear his spare jersey ……
by the end of the week, he wins a shit ton of medals and a trophy for being the MVP
lets you wear some of his medals 😭😭 honestly maybe even all of them
would come to you after the awarding and take off his medals to put it around your neck too
OBLIGATORY SPORTS FESTIVAL PICTURE WITH YOUR CRUSH
you guys hold the trophy together … he has an arm around you … like he ltrly has the poses thought out already
asks you to be his girlfriend on the walk back home
handcrafted you a medal already in case you’ll say yes
engraved on it is “best girlfriend”
damn you’ve only been together like a few hours and he already awarded you best girlfriend
honestly congratulations
you bagged face of the school and student athlete senior lee heeseung
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note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! i just thought it looked rly cute and coherent. let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy
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wongyuuu · 3 months
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midnight rain | lsm
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pairing: seokmin x f!reader genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it. prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain He was sunshine, I was midnight rain ↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.
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Letter #1
Seokmin,
You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.
When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.
You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.
You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.
Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.
When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.
I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.
yn 
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“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”
Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.
On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.
“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”
Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.
He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.
“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”
He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.
“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”
Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.
And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…
“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”
Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.
Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.
He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.
“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.
Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.
Maybe it was trauma.
“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”
One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.
“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”
Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.
“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”
Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.
“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”
"Deal"
Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.
Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.
But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.
He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.
At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.
However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.
“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.
Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.
Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.
“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.
“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”
Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.
"I just…"
What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.
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Letter #2
Seokmin,
I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).
I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.
I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.
I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.
Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.
I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?
yn.
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It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.
Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.
For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.
You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.
In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.
When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.
Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.
You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.
He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.
Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?
You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.
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Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.
It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.
The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.
“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.
Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.
“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"
He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.
To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.
“I passed my master’s degree abroad”
Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.
Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.
“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”
Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.
He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.
He had no idea.
Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?
"What? You’re leaving today?"
It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.
“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”
And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.
It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.
Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.
He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.
Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.
He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.
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Letter #3
Seokmin,
I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.
It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years
You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.
I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.
You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.
One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.
A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.
You were sneaky, Seokmin.
When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.
yn.
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You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.
You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.
When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.
In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.
When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.
Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.
That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.
Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.
After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.
Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.
You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.
You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.
“It’s really you!”
You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.
“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.
You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.
“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”
You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.
There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.
“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”
“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”
Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.
"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”
You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.
"What do you recommend?"
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The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.
The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.
You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.
It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.
But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.
“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.
Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.
“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”
Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.
“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.
Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.
It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.
You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.
What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?
A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.
“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”
It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.
Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.
You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.
"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.
“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”
You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.
"Do what?"
"Runaway"
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Letter #4
Seokmin, 
It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.
I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.
I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.
I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.
It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.
I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.
I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.
Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.
yn.
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To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.
Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.
He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.
Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.
In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.
The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.
The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.
Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?
You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.
Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.
For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.
“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"
Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.
Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay — or at least, well enough to do the program.
“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.
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“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”
You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.
That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.
You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.
You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.
In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.
“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.
Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.
Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.
“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”
You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.
“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.
“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”
You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.
You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.
“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.
You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.
“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”
You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.
"Your question?"
“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”
Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.
“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”
“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"
“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”
You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.
You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,
“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”
“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt,  like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”
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Letter #5
Seokmin
I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.
But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.
But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.
But it's not like that for me or for you.
I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.
I'm going crazy, aren't I?
It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.
What am I still doing?
yn
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Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.
Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.
Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.
“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.
“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.
Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.
Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.
Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control. 
He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.
He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.
Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.
When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.
Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.
You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.
Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.
You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.
"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.
Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.
He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.
It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.
One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.
“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.
You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.
“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”
How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.
It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.
“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.
You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.
In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.
You never quite managed to do that.
“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”
You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.
“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”
“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”
Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.
Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.
“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.
The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.
That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.
“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”
You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.
“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.
“You always wanted to have a radio show”
“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”
You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.
“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.
“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”
Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.
“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”
You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.
You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.
“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”
Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.
Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.
“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”
You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.
“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”
You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.
Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.
“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”
Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks. 
At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.
To hell with his plan.
Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple. 
You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him. 
Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.
“Seokmin, I…”
He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him. 
“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said. 
You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire. 
You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again. 
His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before. 
He smiled over your skin. 
“At least this hasn’t changed”
It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.
“Where’s your room?”
You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor. 
Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side. 
“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck. 
“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”
Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed. 
It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn. 
It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again. 
Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful. 
Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker. 
He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.
Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time. 
He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes. 
He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then. 
"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant. 
Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically. 
You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again. 
I love you,  the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once. 
Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.
You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it. 
"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.
Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him. 
"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"
All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you. 
Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.
"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"
To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you. 
Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place. 
"Seokmin... harder"
And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room. 
Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much. 
You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side. 
Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair. 
"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him. 
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Letter #6
Seokmin,
I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.
I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.
Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.
I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.
We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.
You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.
Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.
But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.
I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.
You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?
The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.
Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.
Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?
yn
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Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.
You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.
When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.
You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.
You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.
You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.
There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.
One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.
At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.
You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.
Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.
The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.
Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.
Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.
It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.
There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.
Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.
You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.
The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.
“Say it again, but this time looking at me”
You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.
“Your nose is beautiful”
You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.
“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”
The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.
Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.
It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.
Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.
When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.
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The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.
All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.
The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.
You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.
Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.
And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.
It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.
The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.
You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.
You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.
A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.
“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.
You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.
You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.
You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.
Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.
“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.
“Let me give you a ride”
You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.
“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”
“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”
You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.
"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”
You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.
“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”
You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.
Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.
When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.
Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.
Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.
After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.
He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.
He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home. 
Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.
Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.
The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.
After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.
Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.
“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.
His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.
You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.
“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”
“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”
You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.
“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”
Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.
“I know, I read your letters”
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Seokmin,
It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.
I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well,  again.
As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.
But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.
You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.
I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.
It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.
I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.
I love you.
yn
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taglist: @wonwooz1, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @mayashu, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @k-drama-adict, @maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @roguesthetic, @sofix-hc7, @scarlet789, @moonlightgrleric, @mixling-blog, @haowonbins, @slut4donghyuck, @shuabby1994, @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan, @plumings, @shuasdrafts, @aaasia111, @bouclesdefeu
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okwonyo · 5 months
Text
seeing you perform for the first time.
ᙏ̤̫ ⠀엔하이픈 ♡ female reader & fluff love at first sight + cw. not-proofread 0.7k | ( bookshelf )
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heeseung would be transfixed, he'd be able to feel his heart jump inside his body when he sees you for the first time. “i love you..” he'd stupidly think, his eyes would follow each one of your movements— he'd be hypnotized, not only of the way you look but, by the way your body moves so smoothly to the music. he'd find you addicting, a smile slowly appearing as your performance goes. it'd be dump if he didn't talk to you right after the show.
jongseong would enjoy the performance to the maximum; from the music to the outfits and the dance, he'd love it all. he'd be the first one to stand up when the performance starts, it'd be obvious he genuinely enjoys the music. but, when you'd come on screen, it'd be like the world stops. he'd stop clapping and moving his head along to the music— breath, and a bit of his soul, taken by your groundbreaking visuals. a smirk would appear on his face, ‘yeah, this is my favorite group for now on’
jaeyun would have been stealing glances at you ever since the award show started and you were sitting in the rows. then, when he saw you perform on stage— given the fact that he'd have fallen for you the second he saw you, he'd fall even more. his eyes would be wide open when he sees you on stage at the very start then, his mouth would be found agape when he hears your voice. funny thing is, he'd keep that expression on his face until the performance ends. really, nobody ever had this much effect on him before.
sunghoon would admire your beauty quietly and try to enjoy your performance discreetly— but, still, anyone would see he is really watching and having a good time. he'd nod along whatever lyrics you are singing, memorizing the way your lips moves and the way your hair fall back each time you flip them. he'd be so focused on you, he'd smile each time you smile, raise a eyebrow each time you do to. he'd never forget that first impression of you.
sunoo would not be afraid to show how much he enjoys the performance, especially when you are on screen. he'd bop his head along to the music and, even try to mouth the lyrics although he barely knows them. his eyes would widen each time the cameras make a plan of your face, always surprised by how beautiful you are. this sweetheart would whisper to whoever is next to him how impressed he is— “she looks beautiful, doesn't she?”
jungwon would be beyond shocked, his eyebrows would furrow and his mouth would form a tiny ‘o’— because, not only the song is good, but the girl singing his favorite part his jaw-dropping. he'd find you pretty in a way that challenges reality, asking himself if you are even real.. and, i mean it. his head would move along the way you body does, in a smooth way as he bite down his lower lip to break himself out of his trance like state.
riki would be so invested in the performance, and especially in you, that he would not even move a tad. his eyes would be fully focused on you— and, he'd find you so cool; with the way you dance and the fact your visuals are a whiplash to him every time the cameraman focuses on you. there would be a moment, throughout the performance, where a tiny grin would appear on his hips when you appears on the big screen again, and will not leave.
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...
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taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @nwjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexxc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @hongincha @ashtxtrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies networks @k-films @/k-labels
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itsallyscorner · 11 months
Text
The Sour Tour | Marvel Cast
pairing: marvel cast x teen!reader
warnings: none
summary: the youngest marvel cast member goes on tour💜
a/n: this fic does not correlate with any other fics I’ve made that include the Sour album
face claim: Olivia Rodrigo
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Liked by brielarson, robertdowneyjr, and 4,618,387 others
(y/n)(l/n) The Sour Tour has finally begun! Thank you (home state) for kicking it off to an incredible start! Can’t wait to see you all so soon🥹💜
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brielarson my sweet angel baby
brielarson love you so much can’t wait to see you!!!!!!!!💖💖
(y/n)fan1 HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO
(y/n)fan2 THE SET LIST??? CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE SET LIST
(y/n)fan3 HAPPIER THEN TRAITOR BACK TO BACK???
(y/n)fan4 ITS LIKE SHE WANTS TO SEE US CRYYY
(y/n)(l/n) bc I do🧍‍♀️
(y/n)fan5 WHAT THE FUCK
tomholland2013 FINNA BE IN PIT
(y/n)fan6 HE FINNA BE IN PITTTTT🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
zendaya @/tomholland2013 bro shut up
robertdowneyjr Wishing you the best of luck, see you soon bee🐝❤️
paulbettany You’re going to do great!!😃
lifeisaloha Love you fam🫶🏼
(y/n)(l/n) All the love Jacobbbb🫶
(y/n)updates I’m ready.
(y/n)fan7 you’re the harryflorals of (y/n) stans
(y/n)fan8 where’s (y/n)scloset????
(y/n)scloset I’m hereeeee🙋‍♀️
markruffalo Wishing you a FANTASTIC and safe tour❤️
(y/n)(l/n) thank you Mark!!❤️
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Liked by chrisevans, imsebastianstan, and 5,293,735 others
(y/n)(l/n) North America tour dump✨🦋💜🎸🔮💿🎀
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chrisevans can you just pls sign my poster?
chrisevans please (y/n) I’ve been waiting outside for 30 minutes and teenagers scare the shit out of me
anthonymackie get in line
imsebastianstan I was here first
mcufan1 ya’ll are actual children
evansfan1 @/chrisevans don’t act like we didn’t just see you and Scott going off during Good 4 u👀
elizabetholsen So so so proud!!🤩❤️
mcufan2 Lizzie these are very millennial emojis
(y/n)fan9 MOTHER
(y/n)fan10 MOTHER IS MOTHERING
scarlettjohansson You are the most incredible person I know, what an honor it was to see you live❤️
mcufan3 I SAW YOU AT THE NEW YORK SHOW!!!!!
letitiawright TO EUROPE SHE GOES!!! Can’t wait to see you💜
chrishemsworth can you please do a shoey when you come to Australia?
(y/n)(l/n) no❤️
(y/n)fan11 outta them Doc Martins?💀
(y/n)(l/n) @(y/n)fan11 I swear my feet don’t smell bad
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Liked by markruffalo, anthonymackie, and 7,204,834 others
imsebastianstan ALL THE FLOWERS FOR YOU💐
tagged (y/n)(l/n)
view all 1,284,243 comments
elizabetholsen MY BABY❤️
(y/n)fan12 mother sighting
(y/n)fan13 the marvel cast is so cute
mcufan4 They really are her second family🥹
anthonymackie Wtf you went without me?
paulrudd I had a great time Sebastian🫶
paulrudd @(y/n)(l/n) you were phenomenal
anthonymackie YOU WENT WITH PAUL???
mcufan5 LMAOOOOO
mcufan6 NOT SEBASTIAN BEING UNRESPONSIVE
(y/n)(l/n) love you Paul <3
(y/n)(l/n) THANK YOU FOR COMING💜💜💜
vancityreynolds YOU BETRAYED ME.
(y/n)fan14 is his singing a lyric or is he also yelling at Seb?
mcufan7 Ryan what—
mcufan8 Seb what’s your favorite song off the sour album??
imsebastianstan Traitor and Favorite Crime
(y/n)fan15 Bucky coded.
mcufan9 i bet these are on his Bucky playlist
Chris Evans via Instagram Story:
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Liked by tomholland2013, therussobrothers, and 6,349,934 others
robertdowneyjr You little legend you💜 What an incredible show @(y/n)(l/n) put on tonight at LA! Your talent, charisma, and presence made this such a memorable experience. This show was anything but Sour, the room was full of love and it’s all what (Y/n) deserves. Proud of you always, your Pops❤️
view all 4,248,394 comments
mcufan10 “Proud of you always, your pops”🥹
(y/n)(l/n) It meant so much for you and your family to come out tonight, thank you so much I love you all❤️
(y/n)fan16 I’m crying this is so sweet😭
therussobrothers Can’t wait to document such a legend
mcufan11 excUSE ME?
mcufan12 WHAT—
(y/n)fan17 A TOUR DOCUMENTARY???
(y/n)(l/n) coming soon on Disney+😉
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Liked by zendaya, florencepugh, and 7,034,384 others
(y/n)(l/n) Quick pit stop⛽️
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zendaya face card never declines
(y/n)scloset bestie where is the sweater in the fourth slide from?
(y/n)scloset unfortunately could not find it :(
(y/n)(l/n) my nana made it <3
(y/n)fan18 we love nana😌
tomholland2013 2 MORE WEEKS TILL IM IN PIT😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
anthonymackie shut up
zendaya you’re embarrassing me🫣
(y/n)fan19 TOM FINNA BE IN PIT YALL🔥🔥🔥
florencepugh you look better in my sunglasses than I do
(y/n)fan20 besties
(y/n)(l/n) I’ll give them back to you when I’m in London😌
haileesteinfeld my baby girlll😍
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Liked by florencepugh, tomholland2013, and 8,834,238 others
(y/n)(l/n) UK BABY OI OI🇬🇧👑☕️
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(y/n)fan21 OI OIIIIII
(y/n)fan22 she’s such a One Direction fan I love it
florencepugh you mystical, voice of an angel, fairy baby I love youuuu🧚‍♀️❤️
(y/n)fan23 FLO WAS AT NIGHT 1
(y/n)fan24 I CANT BELIEVE I WAS IN THE SAME ROOM AS FLORENCE AND (Y/N)
flofan1 The fact that Flo was backstage and not at the guest section🥹😭
mcufan11 WHERE IS TOM????
brielarson my cutie pie🥰
mcufan12 (Y/N) (L/N) WORLD DOMINATION
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Liked by robertdowneyjr, zendaya, and 8,474,924 others
tomholland2013 told you guys I was finna be in pit😎🔥
view all 8,345,833 comments
imsebastianstan unbelievable
mcufan13 how was Tom even allowed in pit with all the fans???😭😭
chrisevans wtf bro
paulrudd OH so this is pit
mcufan14 not paul not knowing what pit is😭😭
anthonymackie she only let you into pit to make you shut up😒
mcufan15 Tom riling everyone up is hilarious😭😭
(y/n)fan25 I’m just as salty ac Mackie tbh..
tomholland2013 don’t be so jealous, there’s always next tour🤪
(y/n)fan26 was right next to Tom the entire concert and I swear I love the man, but he kept screaming in my ear💀
zendaya @/tomholland2013 can never take you anywhere man
(y/n)fan27 Tom’s just a fellow girly pop✨
2K notes · View notes
eumppattv · 5 months
Text
CHRISTMAS TRADITIONS | ot7 enha
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pairing ot7 x reader genre ᩍ fluff, established relationship warnings ꕁ slight cursing ➜ masterlist a/n: requests are open :)
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heeseung mario kart ☆ ⊹ ๑
christmas is the only time of year that heeseung wakes up before 1pm. the reason for this is not because of the presents under the tree, but because he gets to take out the nintendo switch, and absolutely destroy you at mario kart. your first date was during christmas, where you played the game for over an hour. so now every year, you have a little competition. at first heeseung is eager to win, but by the end he’s purposely messing up. why? because he loves when you try to be all cocky after you’ve finally beat him. he thinks you’re too cute when you smirk and boast about how you’re better than him.
jay singing by the campfire ☆ ⊹ ๑
obviously jay is going to bust out his guitar any chance he gets. that is why every year, you gather around the campfire with the rest of the boys, and he plays while you eat smores. you of course have to feed him his, because he’s too occupied. then after the boys leave, you both stay out a while, with jay singing for you as you snuggle up to him, trying to keep warm. he sings some christmas songs, and you try to join in though you always say it won’t sound as good as his amazing voice. and of course part of the traditions would be your voice cracking, and jay laughing about it for the next year.
jake dressing layla up ☆ ⊹ ๑
you’re not sure how this tradition started, but it had turned into a vital part of you day. every year, you and jake spend time shopping for christmas outfits for layla, but keep them a secret from each other. then in the morning, you take turns dressing her up and sending her running down the stairs for the big reveal. at the end you vote for which outfit was better, and that person has to pay for dinner. let’s just say; you haven’t paid for dinner in years.
sunghoon going to the ice skating rink ☆ ⊹ ๑
i think sunghoon just likes to see you suffer, because every year he swears you’re getting better at skating; and every year you fall on your ass. still, he lives for the way he has to hold your hands and guide you across the rink. first you’d make sure to wear cute matching outfits, with each of you getting to pick every other year. then he’d teach you a couple warm ups that you have memorized by heart. at the end he’d want to race you across, but he would purposely mess up so you win. he’d then brag about how well he’s taught you, and how you should be paying him back with kisses.
sunoo baking cookies in matching pjs ☆ ⊹ ๑
one thing about sunoo is he loves his matching pj sets, especially the christmas ones. he’ll get pjs with reindeers on them, and insist you wear them. so every year, you wear your pjs and bake cookies- usually plain chocolate chip. although one year he made you try mint choco cookies, and that didn’t go well. you always make the cookies on christmas eve, so you can wake up and run to the kitchen before you open your gifts. sometimes sunoo wakes up in the middle of the night and grabs a few, claiming it was santa claus or ni-ki.
jungwon decorating your tree ☆ ⊹ ๑
yes you and jungwon spend hours decorating your tree, but the real tradition comes after you have opened all your presents. every christmas, you spend the morning opening your gifts, and the afternoon out at your favorite vintage shop. there you pick out one christmas tree ornament that represents you both for that year, to signify another year together. then the next christmas you add that ornament to the tree, and the cycle continues. jungwon says it’s a symbol of your ever growing love each year.
ni-ki snowball fights ☆ ⊹ ๑
i’m thinking like that one spongebob episode where they have the crazy snowball fight. you would go out, and spend a whole afternoon in the snow. he would try to build a snow fort to protect himself, while you desperately tried to sneak attack him. then you would hit him and he’d fall down dramatically, saying it actually hurt a lot. he would wait for you to comfort him, and then when you’re getting close he would throw a snowball at you and run away laughing.
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🝮 taglist open!
@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid @dior-girlie @gigification
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melonnmiru · 6 months
Text
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haikyuu boys + acts of service !
feat. sakusa, tendou, bokuto, atsumu, ushijima
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"'omi, i can do this on my own, you know."
"you say that while not trying to move away." kiyoomi noted, almost sounding smug in a way. your words, unfortunately held little effect, considering how you were perched on the toilet lid, cheek leaning on his palm. his other hand was sliding cleanser over your skin, suds forming on it. 
you sighed defeatedly, letting him continue his ministrations. he did your whole routine with diligence, watching you do your skincare every night probably imprinted your routine into his memory at this point. 
he loved spending moments like this with you. he could just enjoy the comfortable silence while doting on you, free excuse to run his fingertips over your skin and memorize every bit of it. they were calloused, and yet his touch was more comforting than anything else you've ever felt. 
after patting the last bits of your moisturizer into your skin, he stood up to his full height, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. he wiped his hands on a towel before sliding them over to either side of your face. he tilted your face up, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. pulling away, he grimaced slightly at the feeling of your moisturizer now somewhat on his lips. 
you giggled, pushing yourself from where you sat, wrapping your arms around your waist and pressing more moisturizer-covered kisses over his face. his scowl deepened, though he didn't make any effort to push you away, he'd endure it, he enjoyed your affection a bit more than how he disliked the feeling of your moisturizer, he notes to himself. 
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"and she pulled out screenshots! god, i've never seen someone's face go so pale so quickly." 
satori let out a dramatic gasp, stilling the hand that was carefully painting your thumb. "no way." you nodded vigorously, giggling at his reaction. 
"yeah." you confirmed. it almost felt like a teenage sleepover, what you and satori were doing right now. the both of you sat with your legs crossed, facing each other as he painted your nails with experienced swipes. 
"not surprised though. he totes had it coming!" satori comments in a sing-song tone. he dipped the brush into the bottle, wiping it on the rim before bringing it to your index finger. you could tell he was focused, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as his eyes squinted. 
"y'know, you're doing a pretty good job.." you noted, admiring the clean coats on your nails. he giggled, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, careful to not bump into your freshly painted nails, then one to your lips.
he then leaned back and stared at you with a goofy grin, stretching his hand out to your face, wiggling his fingers. "now paint mine!" satori chimed. you sighed, shaking your head with a grin, though picking out a bottle of dark red nail polish nonetheless. 
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"yeah, and then i went like wham! and the ball slammed into their side!" 
you nodded along, smiling at koutaro's enthusiasm. the constant shine in his eyes when he talked about volleyball was something you could never get tired of, his hands moving around to further express what he was talking about. 
as he rambled, his gaze trailed down to your shoes, then back to your face, then back to your shoes with comically wide eyes. you tilted your head at his actions, a confused smile resting on your face. 
"kou, what's wrong?"
"hold on, baby. just gotta—" 
he dropped to his knee, shifting around to tie your shoelaces. he fumbled for a while, untying and retying it a few times. you stood there, silently watching him tie your shoelaces with an amusing amount of focus. 
he stood up, nodding and flashing you a wide grin. "wow, what a gentleman." you mused, almost dreamily before a small chuckle left you. he laughed boisterously, "can't let the love of my life walk around with untied shoelaces. that's unsafe!" he slipped his hand into yours, continuing his ramble with a proud smile. 
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you unlocked the door to your shared house with a sigh, wanting nothing more than to slip your shoes off and flop into your bed, maybe sleep for the next sixty-eight hours.
you barely had to step foot in there before atsumu greeted you, his arms wrapping around your frame as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. you buried your head into the crook of his neck and shoulders, your own shoulders visibly relaxing at his touch. 
"hi, 'tsum. is it alright if we have takeout tonight? work killed me." your eyes were already closed as you spoke, leaning all your weight onto him. "no need," he leaned back to admire your tired face, pressing a small kiss against your temple. "i already made us dinner." he declared proudly, a smirk resting on his face. 
"you cooked?" 
"mhm." he nodded confidently, you shot him an unconvinced look. "...and it's edible?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips curling into an amused smile. 
"hey!" 
you shrugged, "just thought osamu took all the cooking genes." 
"well, we just so happened to share! can't say the same about the looks department..."
"yeah, you were seriously unlucky there." 
atsumu gasped, shooting you a look of absolute betrayal. "your kind, generous, drop dead handsome boyfriend went out of his way to cook dinner, and this is how you repay him?!" 
your shoulders shook as you laughed, and gingerly took his hands in yours, leading him to the dining table. there sat an uncharacteristically pristine plate of rice balls, his chest puffed up in pride as your eyebrows raised in mild surprise. 
you hate to admit it's romantic. especially if you ignore the five containers shoved in the depths of your fridge, filled with his failed attempts, and his messages with his twin, begging for tips on how to cook without burning the kitchen down. 
"are you almost done?" 
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you offered wakatoshi a noncommittal hum. "few more edits, and i'll be finished." the sound of clicking filled the room as you mindlessly typed away at your keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. 
he nodded, then turned around, and walked out of the room. you took your attention away from what you were writing for a few seconds to glance at the empty spot where your boyfriend had been sitting. a part of you had considered getting up to find him, but alas, this paper was due in an hour. 
a few minutes later, he returned. a glass of water in one hand, and a small bowl of sliced apples in the other. he placed them on your desk before moving behind you. his hands made their way to your shoulders, carefully massaging them as if pushing too hard would cause you to shatter.
it was amusing, how his large stature contrasted his gentle touch with you. you could almost forget that this was the same man ranked among the top three aces in japan, the same man with some of the most monstrous spikes. he'd trade his force for a moment of pure gentleness and care with you. 
you leaned into his touch like it was second nature, your head touching his torso. your eyes automatically fluttered shut as a content sigh left you. the dull ache in your shoulders from being hunched over your computer for hours seemed to completely wash away from his ministrations. 
"thanks, toshi." you mumbled, moving a hand from your keyboard to his hand, giving him a small squeeze. a noise of acknowledgement left him, it was deep, rumbling from his chest as he offered you a small, but genuine smile. wakatoshi knew he wasn't the best with his words, but he hoped these small actions spoke enough about his love for you.
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an irl gave me these ideas, luv u and ur big brain greyps!!!
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wildestdreamsblog · 5 days
Text
Latibule Spinoff: Elysian
Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: if this ain't the most unserious hiatus ever XD
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Masterlist, Part IV of __
“If you know in one glimpse it’s legendary…what we thought was for all time was momentary…”
You tilted your head to the side as you watched the young man mumbled the lyrics to a song, his head resting on his forearm on the table. He was holding the glass of soju on his other. His voice had a certain melodic tone in it, and you were certain that he could be a singer had he wanted to. But now, he was a man that was too drunk to sit straight.
“Still alive killing time at the cemetery. Never quite buried…”
You blinked from your seat across him before turning to the doctor beside you who was busy grilling meat. Kim Seokjin appeared to not be bothered by how his brother was acting, only flashing you a smile when he saw you looking at him. He added another one on the pile of grilled meat he kept on placing on your plate. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s was almost gone and Seokjin still prioritized your plate over his.
You leaned closer, your voice barely a whisper amidst the din of the restaurant. "Is he going to be okay?" you asked, your gaze never leaving Jungkook's slouched form as he continued to sing. The noise inside the tented restaurant made it harder for him to hear you. It was like he wasn’t thinking too hard for the first time since you came barging in his life as he leaned down his head to hear you, his ear almost touching your lips from his proximity.
This seemed right, he thought, to be near you. It was like he was finally following his urges, letting his control slip for just a little for you.
And for the second time that night, your heart beat so loud it was a miracle that he couldn’t hear it, or that you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
“Hmm?”
You cleared your throat before repeating your question. “He’s singing Taylor Swift’s new song. The album only came out this morning and it seems like he already memorized it…Is he okay?”
Seokjin looked up to watch his brokenhearted brother who was now unstealthily stealing meat from your plate, unaware of both your eyes on him. “Talking rings and talking cradles………I wish I could unrecall-“
Jungkook sniffed before eating the meat. It would have been hilarious to watch the tears falling from his eyes as he chewed, except that he looked like a child that was abandoned by the way his lips were pouted. The tattoos and the lip piercing did nothing to make him less endearing. You thought he was really just a charming person. But now he was just sad, as though he lost something he could never get back.
“-how we almost had it all.”
And then cue the endless tears.
Seokjin sighed, his eyes trained on the younger man he claimed to have raised on his own since he was thirteen. It was rare to see him cry. He always toughed it out, always had this innate need to prove himself to his older brothers despite the repeated assurance they gave him that they were tough so he wouldn’t need to. But he was stubborn. And in turn, he became a hardened man, a no-nonsense CEO and a violent leader of the underworld.
Well, until he married her. Suddenly, the sun seemed to have finally shone on his world. Seokjin could remember how happy and giddy Jungkook looked when he put the ring on her finger. He could remember how excited he was to come home to her everyday, even going as far as telling them how wonderful she was, or that cute thing she did for him, or how her cooking was the best he ever had.
Spoiler alert, though, she was the worst cook. She didn’t know that there was a distinct difference between a sugar and a salt, and no, just because they looked the same didn’t mean that they tasted the same.
See what love did to Jeon Jungkook, the pickiest person when it came to food?
Well, until she left.
“It’s not his birthday today,” Seokjin finally answered. “And eat. You’re far too thin.”
“Excuse me! I’m not!”
“Uhuh,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Are you even eating three times a day?”
“Wh- well. N-no! Who has the time?” you sputtered, cheeks warming up from the attention you were getting from him.
He raised his brows at that before pointedly looking at your plate, making a mental note to ensure that your schedule from now on wouldn’t be so tight that you forgot to eat. Or better yet, he would personally visit the head of your department to berate him for not ensuring your well-being!
“And what do you mean that it’s not his birthday?”
 “It’s his wedding anniversary today.”
Huh? Your eyes automatically went to his ring finger, only to find a tattoo that you didn’t notice before. It was a name. You thought that he must have been so in love to have permanently etched his wife’s name on his skin. However, another question popped in your mind.
“Then why is he here instead of with her?”
“She left her more than a year ago. He doesn’t know where she is right now.”
Your heart went out to the young man. He seemed to be so heartbroken evident from his tears and the sadness in his doe eyes. He was too young to be this sad, you thought. Seokjin’s eyes were on you as you looked at Jungkook. You were so soft, he thought. You wore your emotions on your sleeves, genuine concern etched on your face and he couldn’t help but marvel at your capacity for compassion despite only meeting him today.
“That’s so sad. No wonder he’s crying his heart out,” you mumbled, reaching out to pat the younger man’s broad back in display of silent support. “I don’t know how anyone can carry it.”
He nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever have to know.”
You blinked owlishly at his statement. And when you turned to him, his eyes were dark. He was now looking at the glass of soju, twirling the liquid contents slowly.
“Why?” you asked what you shouldn’t have.
He smirked before drinking. His movements were languid before turning his dark and cold eyes to you. “Because, sunshine, I don’t think I have it in me to allow my wife to leave me.”
That should have been your first warning.
And to Kim Seokjin, that was his first warning to himself.
---
He didn’t avoid you. No.
But for the following week, he was distant. He smiled at you when he saw you, but other than that, he did not engage. He greeted you when you greeted him, but other than that, he claimed to have an urgent appointment every time.
See, one step forward was two steps backward when it came to him, you thought. And perhaps, it was for the better. Had this progressed beyond a harmless crush, you would have been hurt. You would only bring him down with you. So for the next days, you threw yourself at work, saying yes to whatever assistance your colleagues needed, even going as far as offering your help to their research.
What? It was an overtime which equated to overtime pay!
That was what you reasoned to yourself, and nope, it was not because you were avoiding excess time to think about that handsome doctor.
Perhaps, what deviated in your work was the amount of free meals the department was getting. It even came to the point was when you didn’t go out of the office for lunch, the department head himself went in and demanded you to eat. You were confused as you followed him out and wondered why he looked a bit terrified. Other than that, you week was calm.
This was good, you convinced yourself as you waited in line for your turn to order, less time with him meant that whatever crush you had for him would die a natural death. You certainly weren’t hurt that your last interaction meant nothing to him when he claimed to have wanted you there with him. You nodded to yourself as you thought that Seokjin looked like a walking heartbreak just waiting to happen.
“Come on, just admit you like her! Why else would you reallocate the budget to cater the food for their department?!”
Seokjin rolled his eyes at his Doctor Seong-min and his obnoxious voice. The two doctors decided to step out for the afternoon to grab a decent coffee. He shifted impatiently in line, silently willing the people ahead him to order faster so he could physically separate himself from his colleague and escape the conversation. He had yet to forgive him for almost getting the coffee his sunshine got for him.
Wait, what?!
His?
See, this was why he needed coffee!
“I heard our branch in the far province desperately needs a resident surgeon. Maybe you want to transfer there?” he asked quietly, the tone of threat not even hidden as he smiled at the man. The mention of transferring to a far-flung province was a thinly veiled threat, one that Seong-min knew Seokjin was all too capable of carrying out if pushed far enough.
“Damn, dude. Chill. If you don’t like her, just say so. I’m just 307% sure that you do-“
“We can’t have doctors that are bad at math! What do you mean 307%?!-“
“Oh, is it 400% now?” he blinked innocently at the man who was berating him, his voice increasing and his ears reddening from his emotions. It was fun to see him like this, Seong-min noted. He was always calm and collected even in the face of emergencies. Seokjin seemed to always know what to do in every situation, and now, one mention of your name and he became like this.
With a forced smile, Seokjin turned to face Seong-min, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, though the denial rang hollow even to his own ears.
Seong-min merely chuckled, unfazed by Seokjin's attempt at deflection. "Come on, Jin. It's written all over your face," he teased, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "You can't fool me.”
He glared at him and Seong-min felt a shiver down his spine as though he was facing a dangerous person and not the peace-loving and hardworking doctor he knew since they were in university. “Fine! I just asked because my friend saw Doctor Y/N and asked me to set her up with him! I was just being a good friend to you-“
What?
See, the mention of another man was what finally pushed him to the very edge and he could feel the fragile sanity of his breaking. However, what he didn’t expect from his genius brain was stupidity.
“Seong-min, are you even using your brain? Why would I, the perfect and genius Doctor Kim Seokjin, ever like someone as bland as her? I have taste. And she could never reach my taste in women. She’s not the same stature as me. She’s so far below me that it’s embarrassing to even insinuate that I feel something for her. Besides, I only entertain her because she’s funny-“
Seong-min’s eyes went in front as the line moved, and it was because of you.
With the steaming cup of hot coffee in your hand, you turned to them. You didn’t say anything. You just watched as Seokjin continued his tirade, completely unaware of your presence, adding lashes to your heart and ego.
God, you were so embarrassed. How could you have thought that he was anything but a rich man who looked down at people beneath him? How could he hurt you where it hurts?
“Honestly, the least she could do is to move faraway from me. She’s nothing-“
It was only when Seong-min pushed his shoulder that he finally noticed you and your tear-filled eyes. He blinked repeatedly as though he was just starting to understand of your presence here, that you were not just a figment of his worst nightmare came to life.
He called for you.
He knew he did.
But instead, you stalked away from him as you tried to salvage whatever was left of your dignity.
“Seriously, Seokjin, you’re an idiot,” Seong-min said, shaking his head in disdain. Seokjin had no choice but to agree.
He was the biggest idiot.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
Note
i don’t know if I’m allowed to ask right now and feel to ignore this but I just really like your shit so here I am :D
anyway
I love the thought of Fanny being the ghost king and the crown not fitting on his head so it falls to his neck line where it hangs off his neck and is either the spikes(idk what the call the pointed bits-) are short enough to see his face or they are thin enough to see though and then when he’s in his human from the crown turns into a black neck tattoo that’s really pretty and stuff!! So imagine this, Danny in Gotham and he’s a singer for Penguin and some rouges or something and he’s irritated so instead of running he continued to sing and it actually sways the course of the fight in favor of his allies while the enemies ears or like bleeding or something as his hair turns white and his eyes go green as the crown shins around his neck and let’s say that his outfit is quite androgynous and nice looking but he’s really pissed because it was a gift and it got damaged or bled on and this starts a rumor that Danny is a meta so the bats and birds go to investigate
Hope you like it and do a little Drabble :)
They hear about the Siren for the first time after a bit of trouble happens to go down in Old Man Rob's. At first, they were a little shocked that anyone would dare give Rob any sort of trouble, seeing as it was a general unwritten role to leave the old man who made clothes for the working girls/boys and for the Gotham Rouges well enough alone.
His work was so well appreciated that the Rouges would even send their minions to outfit them with the standard hire goon outfit. Joker swears by his purple cloth that only Rob could make his men look good.
Old Man Rob made the clothes right out of his home, so anyone who went to him would have a hot cup of tea and soft music from Rob's home country playing in the background. Everyone agreed that Old Man Rob's was welcoming and neutral grounds.
So imagine the uproar when some stupid out-of-city punks attempted to follow some working girls into the house and trash the place. The girls had taken refuge with Old Man Rob after realizing the punks were much more dangerous than they first thought.
When Rob tried to defuse the situation, things turned ugly as one of the men punched the old man to the ground- injuring his back. They had then attempted to take the screaming girls, gone about the house for anything valuable, and smashed everything that wasn't with a bat.
That's when Siren walked in. The androgynous being looked around before throwing themselves onto the men like the snaring mystical creature they earned their name from.
Siren had taken care of the men and had even had them hand-delivered to Penjuin when the supervillain caught wind that the fools were responsible for Rob not being able to complete his latest suit due to his back injury.
One of the working girls had texted her boyfriend, who was employed with Penguin, and that meant the Rouge, with a group of men, had rushed over to help not even ten minutes later.
Once everything was settled, Rob had enough time, as he was being transported to the hospital, to give Siren their outfit as a gift, and Penguin overheard the old man wishing Siren luck on his audition.
After a bit of question, Penguin gave Siren his card and told them to swing by the Iceberg Lounge for an audition if the one they were going to didn't work out.
That was all the Bats were able to gather from the last working girl, who is Jason's informate. Since Siren had no other known sighting, the Bats let them fade into obscurity until rumors of a hot new singer began to feature at the Iceberg Lounge.
Their voice left hundreds of clubgoers memorized, even those who didn't often prefer slow seduction songs when going to the club. The Iceberg does have a more classy feel about it but Siren could make anyone stop for their voice.
Bruce thought it was wise to investigate the meta after rumors that Siren would often help security when someone got too rowdy by singing a tone that could make human ears bleed. So far, there wasn't much information past rumors, and Penguin hadn't made the singer a member of his crime yet, but it was only a matter of time.
No one that powerful could remain neutral with the company they kept.
That's why Dick, Cas, and Jason all dressed to the nines and visited Iceberg Lounge with Brucie Wayne's unlimited credit card. They are treated VIPs- as the Lounge is a legitimate business despite everyone knowing the owner is Penguin- and are seated right before Siren's stage.
The lights drop, and the music tickles to a stop so the live band can get into place. Dick adjusts his cuffs, presses the record button on the hidden video camera on the metal, and leans on his hands to point it to the stage.
They are all wearing earplugs, hoping to stop Siren's powers, but it's better to have someone far away who won't be effect by the sound watching just in case the three get mind-controlled.
The singer who takes the stage is beautiful androgynous in everything from their outfit to their features, but none can deny their beauty of them. They stand in a shimmering black suit resembling a modern king attire, with a half veil dripping from their shoulders. A particular ice crystal snowflake design tattoo circles their neck in a breath-catching upturn of their head.
Once Sirens opens their mouth in the first verse, Cass can understand why the mythical creatures could lure sailors to their water deaths. The voice is as beautiful as the singer, and she can't look away.
She rises with the tempo, falls with the beat, and flouts into the rhythm of Siren's voice. It's not until the singer descends the stage to sing to the lucky few upfront does she realizes she has forgotten why she came here tonight.
Jason carefully presses his foot against her, and she struggles to take her eyes off Siren to look at her bother. His face is relaxed and cocky, like the wealthiest man son can be, but his body language screams worry.
Worry for her.
Shoot, had she allowed herself to fall under Siren's spell?
The singer struts back to the stage, arms raised before slowly lowering on the last long memorizing note, and the lights drop. She clasps politely along with the rest, her heart fluttering.
"That was amazing!" Dick cheers, whistling like a loon. His civilian persona does resemble Brucie the most. "Encore! Encore!"
Siren looks at their table with a bashful smile, and Cass's heart falls. Before she can do anything knowing what that means, the doors to the lounge get blown right off the hinges, and screams erupt through the room.
A rival gang is tearing through the room. Cass hits the ground with her brothers, mentally cursing they can't blow their cover as the thugs quickly round up hostages. One grabs Siren's veil, ripping it right off as the singer tries to run. The action causes them to trip over the stage's long walkway before falling into a table stacked with wine glasses.
She fights to urge to scream when Siren falls. Cass needs to focus on finding a place to change and get control of the situation. Siren could be hurt, they could be-
"You asshole!" The siren screams, standing up and neck tattoo flaring a bright blue. "You ruined my suit!"
The man scoffs, pointing a gun at their head "So what? It couldn't be that expensive for Penguin's little plaything to offered."
"It was a gift!" The siren screams in a sound voice as cold as ice and as unforgiving as death. Cass feels the air freeze over, and suddenly, Siren is signing. But it's not the sweet song from before; now, it's a dead melody that promises death.
She presses herself against the floor more, trying to escape the sound. Her heart is beating so fast that she wonders if she is dosed with Fear Toxin. Cass doubts the others are fairing better as sobs break through the room.
The man holding the gun drops to his knees, screaming and clutching his ears.
Siren remains standing, hair bleeding into white, eyes a blazing green, and his neck tattoo expanding into a crown that seems to cover the lower half of their face. It's a beautiful sight as much as it is terrifying.
Cass can't look away.
Just as quickly as it started, the signing ends when the man falls unconscious and Siren looks human again. They fret over their suit uncaring of the stares from the rest of the club, and make their way to the changing room without a by-your-leave.
Cass is in love.
"We have to report this to B," Jason hisses. "That was Lazaurs Wails."
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lydscare · 1 year
Note
Hi! Could you make a preferences/hc of the pro/hoo characters how they cuddle and/or sleep with there s/o?
cuddling hcs with pjo/hoo characters
a/n: these kinda went into general pda hcs, but hopefully it's still good tho
warnings: possible hints of angst + trama, cause who dosen't have it :')
reader tends to be gender-neutral //  my masterlist
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annabeth
i feel like when cuddling w/ annabeth that there's not really a big spoon or little spoon posistion
it's mainly just your arms wrapped around each other, just a tangle of arms and limbs
dosen't really hug you too much in public but always needs a goodbye hug from you before you go somewhere
she also likes acting out as your pillow with you head on her chest/lap (she probably reads you a book too :))
bianca
her hugs are really comforting and warm
she always knows when you need one
she can just tell
she's memorized your body language to a t
might whisper some comforting words here and there
could make any surface feel soft when her arms are wrapped around you
calypso
i think she likes to be held more than to hold someone
she can hold you tho, and she's great at comforting you
likes to hum or sing you little songs and melodies
she likes when you play with her braid too
overall good experience
clarisse
i feel like she gives good bear hugs
she has some meatystrong arms so her hugs are kinda firm, like she's reminding you that she's there and no one can hurt you
her hugs are also surprisingly warm so they're extra comforting
connor
connor's hugs are a little more firm then travis's but still all the more comforting
he likes taking his time with hugging and cuddling
he likes spinning you around too when he gets excited
travis
travis hugs are very playful and warm
likes to come up from behind and give you a surprise hug
also moves around a bit when cuddling but it's fine, he just wants to get in a comfy position :))
also loves spinning you around
ethan
i kinda feel like he's a side hugger
so not too big on cuddling
he's not exactly avoidant of pda but he's not looking for it
might put his arm around you every once in a while
when cuddling he likes to be the big spoon, he finally feels like he can be of use and protect you from the cruel world :')
frank
gives the best bear hugs (both literally and metamorphically)
at first he's pretty awkward w/ hugging but grows to love it
he can shapeshift into just about any animal to have a different cuddling arrangement
one day you're being snuggled by a dragon, who's wrapped protectively around you, and the next you're holding a cute lil labrador puppy in your hands
needless to say it's an overall wholesome expierence :)
grover
the first time you hugged him, poor goat bby didn't know what to do
like where is he supposed to put his hands??
but after a while gets used to them
not to big of a hugger but enjoys it
has to get over the awkwardness of it at first tho
but afterwards enjoys it
just never sneak up on him
hazel
i don't know how else to describe her hugs other than sweet
her hugs are super comforting and grounding
just sneak up on her and give her a surprise back hug
she lets out the cutest giggle whenever you do it :')
even though she probably heard you coming
always wants to make sure you're comforting when cuddling, she dosen't want to overstep any boundaries of yours so
jason
not exactly looking for cuddles or pda in general, but he's not going to hate affections either
he'll most likely be wanting cudddles after a long day of praetor duties, helping at chb, or school
he won't want anything else, just to be held by you for a few good long minutes
with that being said however, he is more of a big spoon type of guy
leo
he's like a human furnace
always super hot warm
very comforting and cozy
he loves snuggling
in general he's a very touchy person so a arm's usually always around you
loves holding you
after a long day of working on little trinkets and fixing up things he likes to be held by you (arms around your waist, face on your shoulder)
play w/ his hair pleaseee it's very soothing
luke
sturdy?
he has some pretty strong arms so his hugs are a bit firmer than he'd honestly prefer
likes to put his hands around your waist with your hands placed over his
also he likes when you just play with his fingers or stroke his arms lovingly
((also has a really good grip
nico
he isn't much of a hugger, to other people anyways
but with you, he practically craves your touch
it always has to be in a closed off space tho
he's not the biggest fan of pda, but alone with you,,
he practically clings onto you like a lil koala bear
loves wrapping his arms around your waist and burrying his face in your neck
he just needs someone to touch every once in a while to keep him grounded :')
side note: he is pretty cold, like ALL the time so ye
percy
percy the pillow jkjk
fr tho, he likes just placing his head on your chest as his arms around your waist when cuddling
also is a fan of getting his hair played with
he goes back n forth between lil spoon and big spoon
he also just finds your presence itself very comforting
and your smell
goes to sleep with the biggest grin on his face
piper
another hummer
she likes it when you braid her hair
she also like brushing her nails through your hair and scratching at your scalp
she likes holding you more than being held
can be very comforting
a quick hug from her also brings a great feeling
rachel
appreciates signs of pda in general
enjoys holding you and playing w/ your hair
can just walk up to you, give you a hug and walk away randomly
she is moreover a quality time person sooo
reyna
not really a hugger tbh
she has lots of walls built up sooo
she's also not much of a physical person
but she might be good with a hug or two after a long day
if she were to cuddle she'd be pretty stiff at first and need to ease her way into it
thalia
likes wrapping her arms around your neck and just looking at you with so much adoration in her eyes
she really likes being held from behind when sharing a bed
also likes to play with your fingers
will
his hugs are so warm and comforting (obvs)
i feel like he'd be the type to just be gossiping w/ you while you two are tangled together, he's playing with your fingers and all but still has your undivided attention
probably majority of the time os the big spoon but would like being the little spoon on especially hard and stressful days
zoë
as much as i looove zoë, i don't think she is much of a hugger :'(
she's very stiff at first bc she isn't really used to soft touches or touching in general
but then eventually relaxes and will end up not wanting you to leave her
she likes when you play with her hair
she can give good back rubs
she proably will end up being the little spoon on most days tho
also gets tired and ends up wanting cuddles
it helps give her a space of calmness after a long day out hunting
it's soothing
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mysteryshoptls · 2 months
Text
SSR Malleus Draconia - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines
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When Summoned: This was quite the special invitation. Let us celebrate this auspicious 100th year together.
Summon Line: Just as the rumors have said, this truly is a vast museum. I am elated that I have this opportunity to walk these halls.
Groooovy!!: Do take care not to act discourteously while paying your respects. That is, if you do not wish to incur any unwanted curses.
Home: My blessings on 100 years of history.
Home Idle 1: I hear the Asim household has enough paintings to rivals this museum. I do hope to receive an invitation someday.
Home Idle 2: It seems that Rosehearts has memorized a plethora of anecdotes so as to be able to respond to any question. How very enthusiastic of him.
Home Idle 3: It is said that the subordinates of the Thorn Fairy were unwaveringly loyal. Seems as though they all held her in high regard. We are quite similar in that regard.
Home Idle - Login: Allow me to show you around the museum. I have an affinity for art appreciation. You'll be in good hands.
Home Idle - Groovy: Spade seems to have a very straightforward personality. He spoke his mind without any hesitation... Fufu, that was quite the pleasant encounter.
Home Tap 1: That's some furrow in your brow. Each person will glean different impressions from the same painting. There's no need to figure out a correct interpretation.
Home Tap 2: The King of Beasts would turn to his chamberlain for a song to soothe his woes, I see. That chamberlain's singing must have been superb.
Home Tap 3: While I was gazing upon a painting of the Fairest Queen, Hunt began to recount her stories and his opinions on them in rapid-fire succession. His intensity was quite something...
Home Tap 4: The painting depicting the Thorn Fairy's castle is spectacular. It is quite a useful reference for the style of gargoyles of that time period.
Home Tap 5: I cannot say I'm accustomed to this silvery-white color, or your human formal attire, but... From what I gather of your reaction, it does not seem like it is ill-suited.
Home Tap - Groovy: Have you found a work of art you like? Your eyes are glittering just like a child's.
Duo: [MALLEUS]: Follow me, Spade. [DEUCE]: This will be a good experience, Draconia-senpai!
Birthday Login Message: So, you've come to wish me a happy birthday. You certainly know no fear, it seems. Most people are too frightened to even say one word to me... If the people of Briar Valley were to see this, they would be quite taken aback. Heh, I don't mean it as a rebuke in anyway. I only am reminded once again about what a strange human you are.
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Requested by Anonymous.
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sameschmidtdiffname · 1 month
Note
Hey I love your work so much!!
I was thinking of maybe a Mike Schmidt x reader where the reader is all like “I’m not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you” stuff and then like Mike makes it up to the reader to show them that they are more than enough 🫶
Sure, but it's gonna hurt!
Blue Sunrise
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: All is well, yet you aren't. A fact that disturbs and irritates you so, even if it shouldn't.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, SFW with brief mentions of smut, pre-established relationship, set during the movie but that's honestly not very relevant, hurt/comfort, Reader and Mike both have PTSD, this isn't projection, bed rotting, depression, self-loathing, night terrors/nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, mentions of medication, lack of self care, slight self-harm (scratching), breakdown, nosebleed.
Notes: *in sonic snapcube dub voice* heyyyyyyyyyyyy what's upppppppppppppp it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (STOP!!)
                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎
6:34 A.M.
The dawn is gentle, the sky a soft blue behind the thin, cheap blinds that cover the bedroom window not that far in front of me. If I wanted, I could get up and open the window, revealing the surely beautiful and gorgeous sunrise that waits for me just outside the blinds.
But I don't. And I won't.
Birds sing gently outside, waking up and fliting about here and there. It's my favorite part of the day, quite frankly. When I can, I open the window to allow in the fresh, cool air, moist with the morning dew, unmuffling the bird's songs as I drift off to sleep, my schedule mostly in tune with Mike's for his night shift. Sometimes I manage to stay awake to greet him when he returns home. It's always nice when I do. His smile is lazy, his strides long and slow as he makes his way to the bed, peeling off his work clothes and crawling under the covers with me. Sometimes he'll press himself against me, his lips finding my neck as his hand dives between my thighs, his fingers trained on one goal as he murmurs against my skin how much he's missed me. Sometimes I wake to this.
There's a part of me that wishes he'd do this today just so I wouldn't have to think.
The lock on the front door rattles as someone attempts to insert a key into the hole. It doesn't matter how long he's lived here or how he uses those keys every morning, he still takes a moment to make sure he's using the right one, and on the first try he usually isn't. So it takes him a solid minute to unlock the door and enter the house. If we had dogs, they'd surely drive us insane from his routine. It slightly drives me insane already. But I'm technically not even supposed to be awake, so I never mention it.
When Mike finally enters the house, the first thing I hear after the satisfying break of the doors seal ringing throughout the living room is a deep sigh as Mike's backpack lands in front of the coat rack. He should be quieter about setting it down. I would be. But I think he assumes we should be so deep in sleep it really wouldn't matter, and it honestly doesn't make much noise. Just a slightly dull 'thud' against the thinly carpeted floor.
Next I can hear his car keys land in the bowl they're meant for. Again, he's a bit too loud with it all. At least, while people are sleeping. But it's not really a bother. In a way, I like it. It gives me a routine to memorize, his sounds before he'll trail to our room and come press himself against me.
The rocking recliner creeks softly as he sits in it, lazily undoing the laces on his boots before he tosses them towards the coat rack. And next he'll duck his head into the fridge I'm sure and look for the leftovers I put into a big bowl for him to warm up - which he won't, because he's a psychopath who likes cold food. - and then when my alarm goes off, he'll come to wake me up, rising from the old couch where he's very quietly reading his book while he eats and do whatever he has to do to prevent me from slipping back into sleep. He's very good at that job. Especially when he uses his tongue.
But today there's a break in the routine. Today, his footsteps are padding towards our room, the door quietly opening as he slips in. I can hear him let out a soft sigh as he tugs on his hoodie, pulling it off and then discarding of his jeans, which muffle the clack of his belt buckle as he slips them off. Left in his undershirt and boxers, he crosses the room to open the blinds and the window, letting in the fresh air and leaning against the thin windowstill for a moment. Now, I can see him.
He looks rested, a little more than he should for having just finished a night shift. I keep telling him he's going to get fired, but he always wiggles his way out of that conversation. The bags usually under his eyes aren't too deep this morning, which while problematic is relieving. His skin is pale blue from the dawns light that pours into the room. His dark curls are more thick on the top of his head, clumped together from him not brushing them after his shower. He must've used too much conditioner, because his hair also looks thicker than it usually does. The breeze blows his oversized pale blue shirt against his chest as he leans forward, allowing his eyes to close as he takes in a deep breath. It feels like an overly private moment. Like I've intruded by watching him. I don't see him like this much when he isn't alone. When he's with me or Abby, he's alert. Somewhat on guard. It's like he's watching us to make sure we're okay. He's too used to things falling apart in an instant. But when he's alone, physically or emotionally, the walls crumble away to reveal a man who enjoys peace. Who smiles softly as he bends down low, resting his chin upon his arms, letting the dawn greet him and being the supposed first in the house to greet the dawn. And I feel like a stalker for watching him. A scene that feels as if I've stolen what will now only exist deep in my mind for when I want to remember one of the few times he has truly ever looked at peace with the world. It's a scene out of a painting. As private as a prayer. I should grant him more privacy, but I don't. In a captivated and enchanted way, I can't.
I'd never tell him this, but in this moment he looks like his mother. And not in the sense of him being her son. No, based off of the few photos I've seen of her in more private, intimate instances, like when she was holding a very small Mike on her lap on his second birthday, or when Mike's father had stolen a photo during their honeymoon when she wasn't looking, Mike looks just like her. Quiet, serene, not hiding anything from anyone because there's no need. At this moment it is just him and the gentle, late winter breeze that makes my nose begin to sting. He's beautiful. Just like she was.
The moment comes to an end, and now it is just a moment that exists only within my mind as his eyes open. The blue dawn brings out the green in his eyes that's usually hidden by artificial light that overpowers the amber, turning them mostly black in some instances. That's the color I thought they were until I saw him in proper daylight. His long lashes bat once, twice in an almost sleepy manner as he shifts his focus, now turning his head to look at me. I shut my eyes quickly, my canines biting into my tongue to force myself to keep a straight face. But it's too late. We made eye contact, even if it was only for a second, and now he knows I'm awake.
"Sweetheart?" He whispers softly, his voice low and slightly gravelly in the way it always is. His 's' and 't's just a tad sharp, clear as always when he speaks. I hear the floor groan as he pads towards me.
I don't speak. I'm not supposed to be awake. I should be asleep, he would rather I was asleep. I tried to be asleep.
He stops in front of me, I can hear the floor groan louder as he crouches in front of me. He's trying to decide if I'm awake or not, if maybe he'd been tricked into thinking we made eye contact. But something convinces him he hasn't, and the bed sinks as he places a hand upon the mattress to support his weight while he kisses my temple.
"Hi," he whispers against my skin, placing another kiss just above the curve of my brow. "Good morning." He places another kiss on the space between my brows, his lips now trailing up to the middle of my forehead. "You look so pretty like this."
Like what? My skin shining with oil, my nose dirty, my body heavy from not having moved?
Something makes him pause when his lips find my cheek. He keeps his lips pressed against my skin for a moment before he pulls away, licking his lips as he looks closer at me.
"Hey," he whispers softly, a finger finding my chin. "Open your eyes."
I don't want to. When I do he'll instantly know what I've been doing, and I don't want to handle it. I don't want to deal with it.
His hand slips under my head, between my cheek and my pillow.
"Sweetheart, your pillow's wet," he says in quiet surprise. "Open your eyes, talk to me."
Hesitatingly, I obey. Cracking my eyes open and trying not to reveal how horrid the dryness in them feels after allowing them rest for a few moments after keeping them open for what could have been hours at this point. Mike's face is inches from mine, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scan for other obvious signs of distress.
"Hi," I croak in a tired, unused voice as I try to pretend all is well. Mike unfortunately knows better.
"What happened?" He asks concerningly, taking in the tone he does whenever Abby is upset, fretting over me like I'm an injured child as both of his hands cup my face, his lips finding what he's confirmed are thin, itchy and salty tear tracks, placing several, feather-light kisses along them.
"Nothing," I answer honestly, my voice still cracking. "I'm fine."
"Your eyes are red, baby," he says softly, pulling away to look at me again while his body inches closer. "You look like you've been crying for hours."
Ha. I wish. If I had been, maybe I'd feel better about everything. But instead, I've been lying here since Abby went to bed, feeling numb and dead internally as I willed myself to be upset about anything. Work, bills, the color of the walls. I'd succeeded maybe twice, little tears streaming down my face for a minute or two. But then they would stop, and it would feel as though I couldn't cry. Really cry. Like there was some emotional, maybe physical block preventing me from just truly letting all of my emotions out in a possibly hysterical fit. One that would mean I could connect to my humanity. I don't know what's wrong with me. So, instead I just say "I haven't cried."
Mike opens his mouth to call bullshit, but his brow furrows tighter as he thinks. "What's wrong?" He asks again, now lifting my head to allow one arm to slip underneath so I can lay upon it.
"Nothing," I answer again, truly unsure of what to say. "I'm really okay."
And I am. Work is fine, I am fine. Friends are fine. I don't have entitlement to be upset.
"Is it another episode?" Mike asks softly, now pulling his body onto the bed to lie next to me, fully committed to being partner of the year over here. Ugh. Great.
"No," I answer quickly, averting my gaze. Mike's hand cups my cheek, his body cool compared to mine. I'm soaked in sweat from sleeping - read: laying motionless on the bed since 9:30. - in too warm of clothes in too warm of a room under too warm of blankets. I probably stink. Meanwhile the morning air makes Mike feel refreshing. He's perfect. I'm a mess.
"It's okay if it is," Mike says softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of if-"
"I'm not having an episode," I say firmly, cutting him off as though it will solidify my statement more than his if I finish mine first. "I'm just not."
I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm not, and I never will be. I know that's okay. I know episodes happen, and that I'll be okay. I've been so much better lately on my new schedule. I'm working, I'm happy.
I have absolutely no good reason to be in the midst of a depression episode. One where the memories won't leave my mind, where I can't sleep, can't think about anything but the past. It plays in my head over and over again, and I can't stop it. Even though I try. I read, I journal, I bathe. But I don't feel real. People don't feel real. Mike is disorienting in the sense that he is the only thing that truly feels real. Where the pale color of the sheets seems hypnotic, his slightly tan skin contrasts to remind me this place really does exist. The furniture and details of the room seem as real as something from a video game, renderings that aren't as realistic as they could be that blend into the wall more as you look. Flat. Nothing. But the freckles on his nose are real. Strikingly real. Overly real. It's as though someone took their time to place each one, carefully deciding their color, their opacity, their placement. I want and love each one, but at this moment they slightly torture me by drawing me into a comforting trap.
"I haven't had an episode in over a month, I'm better," I attempt to say in a firm, solid voice. But I'm too tired, too worn out. My chest burns both from anxiety induced heartburn and how shallow my breathing has been for the past several hours. Mike looks sad, and I hate that. Deeply.
"You have been doing better," he says softly, like a reassuring parent. "I've seen that. And I'm so proud of you."
But I still have this. I'm still like this. I still can't have people wrap their arms around me from behind because I'm instantly taken back to when it would end in me collapsed on the ground, panting, crying, calling out for help that just wouldn't come. I still can't wear shirts with too tight of collars because it always end with me half naked, ripping the shirt off while hyperventilating. That was how I had to tell Mike. For our first Christmas together he bought me this beautiful turtleneck, knowing I liked the style but didn't own many. A dark evergreen color, affordable but a lovely tight-knit material, I adored the thing. But the moment the shirt was over my head, the neck felt like a hand suffocating me, and though I tried to tolerate it fie as long as I could, it only took one casual graze of his hand along my back to send me reeling into a corner, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering like a terrified child as I clawed at my neck while he tried to get it off of me.
'I'm so proud of you.' The statement feels like a backhanded reward. It feels as though I'm an idiotic child who just can't learn their ABC's or basic fundamental math. It feels like I'm a small toddler surrounded by adults looking at me full of pity in their eyes while they think 'well, you'll never be normal by any means. But maybe one day if you're lucky, you'll work in a Subway.' But they don't tell me this. They just praise me for existing. 'You woke up today! You put on clothes today! You didn't kill yourself!' It makes me want to scream. Yes, even at him. I want to grab him by his shirt and scream until my voice is shattered 'don't praise me for the bare minimum! I'm not a child!'
But I know he's not. I know he feels the same way when he slips back in progress as well. There was a solid month last year where Mike's insurance refused to pay for his sleep medication due to some paperwork slip and such, something they eventually realized was a complete blip on their end. But that month was hell for Mike, who could barely sleep well even with the medication. His easy smirks were replaced with cracked lips, skin raw from constant biting. His eyes were filled with paranoia from lack of sleep, and worse were the night terrors. Mike didn't even know he was still capable of having them, usually sedated by his meds well enough that if there was a nightmare, he just stayed asleep. At worst he'd wake up in a haze, maybe a very short yelp if anything. But without his meds, it was screaming. Constant screaming. There were nights he would wake after only an hour and he'd start, his voice shrill and reverberating off the walls as he thrashed in the bed. You couldn't console him, touch made him worse. When it happened, you simply had to leave the room and pray he would be okay. The episode could last anywhere from five minutes to an hour, and you would know it was over when all you could hear was broken sobbing, quiet and childlike in nature. Then I would return to the room, and there he'd be. Sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes his shirt torn off of himself. Usually sitting either in the dark corner of the room or on the floor of our closet. Red, angry marks would trail along his skin from clawing at himself with his uneven nails, some of them being actual cuts he'd managed in his terror. I'd carefully clean his cuts with cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide while he silently stared ahead, too ashamed to speak or make eye contact with me. And too terrified to sleep again.
Sleep deprivation didn't help, either. One day I saw him with a Redbull stuck in his hand, seemingly never empty despite how much he drank from it. At first I thought it was one, than I realized it was three, then I realized I didn't really know what number he was on. It was surprising how well he could take the new, unusual load of caffeine that tastes sickly sweet without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't realize he was trying to starve off sleep until the next morning when his leg was bouncing a mile a minute and he was snapping at every little thing. That day he had a breakdown over dropping an unpeeled onion. And that's when it slipped out.
I didn't judge him. I was terrified for him, but I didn't judge him. And I could tell the same was true for him when I would have my slips, though mine looked different. Mine looked like a lack of self care and rotting in our bed, staring pointlessly ahead until he would lift me off the bed and carefully guide me to a warm bath, where he'd gently wash my skin with a soft rag like I was a newborn while I stared ahead at nothing. At this point we had learned to tell the oncoming signs of each others episodes, and how to starve them off. And if we couldn't, how to help each other through them.
Usually, I don't mind. But today, it hurts. It all hurts.
"Have you eaten?" Mike asks me gently, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone as he wraps me in his embrace, careful of where he places his hands on my person. Like I'm a bomb.
I don't want to be treated like this anymore.
"Yes," I sigh in an irritated voice, like it's the most inconvenient thing he should ask me such a question. But I haven't. I feel empty and yet too full at the same time, and guilt pounds behind my left eye with the ferocity of a headache that I can't just mother myself.
Mike doesn't believe me. He'll pretend he does, but the press of his lips betray him as he takes a deep breath in like he's trying to tell what wire to cut next.
"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He asks softly, his thumb still stroking just below the raw corner of my eye. It burns. All of it.
'No,' I snap in my head. But I just tighten my jaw and press my own lips together.
"I'm not really hungry, but thank you," I say in a tight voice. Now he's going to pretend that's okay, and he'll go get his breakfast. Then he'll pretend he can't finish it all, joke lightly and say I gave him too big of a portion even though he eats like he's still a growing teenager, and offer me little bites as he "tries" to finish the rest, then eventually trick me into finishing it. He isn't slick, and I'm not a child.
"Hey," he says in a light whisper. "I was thinking maybe we could go out today? All three of us? Or I could call Max, see if she'll watch Abs for a little bit so we can get away?"
Distraction. Cute. I don't need it.
"That could be nice," I admit through half gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "Where to?"
"Anywhere," he says too quickly, obviously relieved to have a straw to grasp at. "Your choice."
Guilt twists in my chest like an alien creature settled in my lungs, burning as it begins to slither its way towards my throat to suffocate me on its wrath. He doesn't need to do this. Can't he see how well I'm doing?
"How was work?" He asks me in an attempt to keep me talking. Mike doesn't like silence, not like this. Not really any time. There's always noise throughout the house, whether it's a show on in the background or white noise from his cassette player. He can't stand silence. Especially from people.
"Work was..." Fine? The usual? Non-eventful?
"Good," I decide. Mike presses his lips together again. Stop doing that.
"Yeah?" He asks in a slightly tight voice.
"Yeah," I confirm in a tighter voice.
"You didn't... call out or anything?"
My bottom left back molar feels like it might snap from how tight my jaw is. "Why?" I ask, venom unintentionally creeping in.
"Just asking," he says quickly.
"Why?" I press harder, wanting to know who told on me. Abby hasn't even had the chance to speak with him.
'It's because he knows your patterns,' I think. 'He's trying to gage how serious this is.'
"Maybe we could go out for breakfast? We can wait until Abby wakes up, go get some Waffle Hous-"
"I'm not having an episode," I snap quickly, more harsh than I intended. My tone makes him flinch slightly, his eyes shutting for a moment as he takes another breath in. Now I'm scared he'll pull away.
"We... don't have to talk about this right now," he says softly, opening his eyes again and wrapping his arm around me tighter. "Let's just focus on breakfast."
The guilt pounds in my kidneys, which are sore since I haven't left the bed since I laid down after putting Abby to sleep, but I did have a full water bottle around 3:00 in the morning. It's not Mike's fault I backtracked. He's just trying to be nice. I'm the asshole here.
"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, dropping my gaze and biting my tongue between my canines again to stop the tears that are now willing to come freely to burn my eyes during such an inappropriate moment.
"It's okay," Mike says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't even think about it."
'Don't even think about the fact he's just trying to be a decent person and you can't even say 'thank you,'' a grating voice in my head chides me. 'What, you're too good for a free meal?'
"I'm sorry," I repeat softer, my nails digging into my wrist that I'm holding to keep control over myself. Mike's hand is searching for mine, ready to pry it away to prevent me from doing what I need to to prevent the waterworks.
"Hey." Stop with the 'hey's. "I said it's alright, you're okay."
It's all bad. Everything's bad, and it's not going to get better. I keep thinking I'll get better, I keep thinking I'll be okay. But every two steps forward is one step back and I can't keep doing this redundant bullshit for the rest of my life. Am I going to be 40 at the office Christmas party sneaking off to freak out in the bathroom because something triggered me and I just can't get a grip on things? Am I even going to make it to 40?
Mike is comforting me, cradling my head to his chest and rocking me back and forth. And his shirt is wet. I don't like that his shirt is wet, it should be dry. Why is it fucking wet?
"It's okay," he's whispering in my hair while horrid choking sounds come from somewhere around us. Maybe the other room? "You're alright, it's okay."
I'm aware it's alright, I'm aware it's okay. Why are you wet? Why does my head hurt?
"I can't- sleep," my voice chokes out between guttural sobs, my face pressed into his chest. "It's all nightmares."
Oh. Shit. That's me. The wetness, I did that. My bad.
"I know, it's okay. How long?" Mike asks softly. What, are you gonna call my therapist?
"A week," I moan into his chest. My ribs expand with each recycled breath I steal from against his chest, and I can feel him trying to gently tug me away so I can get one with fresh, cold air instead. I don't let him. My lungs burn more. "They just won't stop."
"It's okay, it's only temporary," he says softly, his hand pushing away some of the blanket to relieve me of the boiling warmth underneath. The cold air is refreshing against my skin, even through my clothes are soaked with stinking sweat.
"No, it's not!" I cry hysterically into his chest. "They don't go away. None of it goes away. I want it to go away!"
He's nodding, rubbing circles on my back as I grip his shirt hard enough it may stretch.
"It'll get better. It did for awhile," he reminds me.
"But I'm back here. I always end up back here. I was doing so good!" I sob, feeling the wetness on his shirt begin to slightly thicken, probably due to snot. I try to sniff it back into my sinuses, but I think that just draws his attention to the new fluid he's covered in.
"That's okay. You'll do even better next time. And if you don't, that's okay too." Don't say what I think you're going to say. Do not. Michael, I'm serious, don't- "I'm still proud of you."
Fuck. Ooooooff!
This is the real release of my emotions. Now I'm gasping, choking, sobbing, making horrible sounds that sound like a European ambulance siren wailing through the streets to announce someone's dying on the way to the hospital. My head throbs with the pain from the heavy crying, and I may give myself a nosebleed from the passion of it all. And Mike, his patience thick and durable, just holds me through it all. Letting me soak his shirt, dirty his skin, grab at him blindly while I wail like a spoiled child, just repeating the phrase over again. 'Proud.' What pride. What honor to be had at such a breakdown. Yes, very understandable.
"I should be better," I sob into his chest. "You deserve better."
"What?" He laughs lightly, and at first it feels mocking, but then he's pulling my head away fron my soaked enclosure and his eyes are so gentle for a moment I know the light laughter is simply from surprise. Then his eyes widen and he's back in parent mode.
"Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I choke out while gripping his shirt. At first he thinks I'm talking about our relationship, then he realizes I'm not letting him pull away.
"Sweetheart, you're bleeding," he gently explains. "Let me wipe your face. I just need tissues. I'm not even leaving the bed."
But that's too much. Let me bleed, let my head throb, let this headache take the vision away in my eye from how bad it hurts. Let anything happen so long as I can stay in this moment. Don't break the spell. Don't let me go numb again.
"Don't leave me," I cry pathetically, my eyes all scrunched together in the same manner as wailing infants, my grip on his shirt not breaking. Sure enough, there on the wet spot of his shirt is a dark stain of blood that should hopefully come out if we wash it fast enough.
"Let me do that," I'm saying as I try to peel off his shirt now. "Let me wash it."
He's gently guiding my hands away. "Don't worry about it," he says gently, kissing my hands and wrists like they might break even from the delicate graze of his lips. "Let me take care of you."
He does this all the time. He always takes care of me. I should do more. Be more. For him.
"You deserve better," I choke out, feeling like I may suffocate from the tears. Mike's brows furrow in concern, and he grips my chin very carefully as he makes me meet his eyes.
"Hey, no. Get that out of your head, it's all okay," he tells me softly, staring at me like if he can't verbally convince me, his hard stare will do the trick. "I don't want to hear you talk like that."
"I should be better," I repeat, my crying lessening slightly as I try to hold eye contact.
"You're getting better," he reminds me. "This is the happiest I've seen you since we met. You'll get back to that. Hell, you could feel the same way tonight. It's okay. Take a day off. We all need one, even normal people," he says softly, stroking my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Can you just let me take care of you in the meantime?"
No. Go away, let me rot.
"We can still go out for breakfast," he offers gently. "I can still call Max, or we can all stay in. I'll set up a nest in the living room so you can watch TV. Works you like that?"
Stop. Stop being nice to me, stop trying to make me feel better. It all just feels awful. I don't want this guilt, someone takes it away.
Mike must sense my overwhelmed emotions, because he places another kiss on my forehead before asking if he can clean my face again, and this time I say yes. He pulls away, which is still upsetting but less so. I don't make a deal out of it this time at least. He opens a drawer, searching for wipes and pulling them out before turning back to me.
"Do you want to sit up?" He asks gently. I bite my tongue to prevent another mocking thought directed towards me and nod. Bones crack as I do, my kidneys hurt worse. But at least I finally moved.
Tears still streak down my face as Mike wipes away the snot and blood, his large hand gently cupping my face as he does. There's a soft smile on his face, though I'm not particularly sure why. And when he's done, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip before placing his own lips on top of mine. They're chapped, one spot raw from excessive biting. But there's still some leftover chapstick on them, and it tastes like grapefruit.
I tug on his shirt, one hand sneaking under it to feel his cool skin underneath. He gently takes my wrist once more, then pulls away. A silent rejection. He knows that I'm just looking for a distraction from my emotions, and in a moment he'll offer a much healthier one. He does discard the shirt, leaving his chest bare, but only so that he doesn't smear my fluids back onto me as he pulls me in for another embrace.
"We'll be okay," he promises. "Everything will be okay."
"What if it's not?" I ask in a quiet, strained voice.
"Then it'll be okay later. You can take time to not be okay," he says.
There's a short silence before either of us speak. And when I hear his voice hitch in the way it does when he's about to say something, Abby's alarm rings crystal clear in her room. Then the sound of a truck rattles by on the road in front of the house. Birds continue to sing. And my pours feel so clogged I'm sure my skin will be lashing out for days.
But it'll all be okay.
                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤
"Can we have some fluff to reco-" no. Suffer.
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