Hey Stayblr, I've Been Thinking Of Ways We Can Unite To Help Palestine In The Current Genocide. With

Hey stayblr, I've been thinking of ways we can unite to help Palestine in the current genocide. With Israel closing borders again, no aid is allowed in and local organizations on the ground urgently need our help. So, i thought of rallying to raise donations for Palestine, big or small, as every dollar counts and can truly make a difference. Our initial target is to raise 1500 dollars, to be split between Care for Gaza and UNRWA. We’ll raise the target goal according to our progress!

For transparency, donations will be received through my Kofi, with daily updates on our progress. Here are the links to UNRWA’s and Careforgaza’s work in Gaza!

Palestinians are saying that this is the worst phase of the genocide yet. They need as much of our help as we can give them, so please, let’s all stand together for this.

If you cannot donate

- please reblog and share around!

- stream hind’s hall (all proceeds will be donated to unrwa!

update as of 18/05/2024- [11 p.m.] : 1035 dollars!!

More Posts from Qnqwr and Others

8 months ago

i miss you; i still do

kazuha x reader angst

a/n: this is based off promise by laufey cause my friend said told me to do it xc (not proofread btww, if there are any misspellings pls tell me :p)

wc: 902

enjoy reading!

italic for flashbacks normal for the present bold for emphasis

- - - -

They said it's easy to move on.

At least that's what I always said to myself after recalling all summer evenings by the shore. We shared our first passionate kiss as well as a night full of bliss and the thrashing waves as our musical background.

At sunset, not many people were hanging around the beach. A girl tugs a boy to the coast of the water "Wait! Don't do that~" He playfully whines as he tries to pull himself away from the calm tides, the sand imprints their puerile acts as they blithely ignore their surroundings.

"Why not?" Giggles erupt from the girl, a sweet melody that strikes a core inside the man's heart. He pulls her close to him, her back hitting his chest as they face the view of the setting sun. She gazes up at his face, realizing that her action caused their faces to be close to kissing. "Your dress is pretty. I don't want you to ruin it." he grins adoringly.

She blinks slowly, feeling her e/c eyes dreamily gape at the pair of red staring right back at her. "M'kay." she breathes, mouth dangerously nearing his. The overbearing weight of the atmosphere dawns upon them, as they shut their eyes, closing the gap between their lips and enjoying the serenity of the moment. Passion clashed at every second as if time had slowed down and everything else was thrown out the window. Just the two of them and the picturesque view of the sun below the horizon, the azure sky mirroring the grandeur of the boundless sea. 

That evening made me realize what we had was more than just a crush, you've bewitched me. 

Your compliments were sweet, but the last time I heard your praise was long ago. Up until now your pretty name— Kazuha, always brings me joy when mentioned. And as our lips met in a final embrace, the passionate fervor had me craving for more. I reached after yours as you leisurely pulled away.

Two friends lost in paradise. Stuck in their little world ensconced under the moon's silvery glow that hangs in the sky while they point to the stars as if they are engaged in a celestial dance. "Kazuha, you told me you know what the wind whispers. Can you tell me what it's saying right now?" a hand ran down through her h/c locks, gently massaging it now and then; it almost lulled the lass to sleep, but eager to hear his reply, she kept her eyes open.

"It's okay." He says with the softest tone while his hand on her hair stops moving and settles on the small of her back. An almost inaudible sound of confusion comes out of her mouth, "What do you mean?"  "Everything will be okay, that's what it said."  A radiant smile makes its way to the girl's face, eyes slightly drooping as her heart beats in trepidation and hope. She gathers her last ball of energy to voice her question, "Will I see you again?"  

The question seemed to hover in the air as if it were a foggy mist, casting an almost tangible wave of anticipation upon the girl as her eyes lingered on their now intertwined fingers, eyes filled with interest and worry. "Don't worry, I'll always be here to see you. A countless times over." 

Was that your way of saying goodbye? You hold me in your arms spouting absolute lies. You treat me like a fool— an idiot to eagerly believe that we have something more and vanish from my life like the swift air as though your lips weren't engraved on mine. As if I was but a memory stored in the recesses of your mind. 

A few weeks before, I passed by the wooded Rosemary Avenue, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries struck a melancholic memory in my mind. My steps came to a stop when I saw a boy, his cascading platinum-blonde hair that seemed to glow under the night sky, and his figure reminiscent of you.

My lips quiver as recollections of our past swirl back into my mind like a relentless wave. My body froze in place, a slight tremor betraying the rush of nostalgia; unable to summon the boldness to inch myself forward.

So I chose to flee in the opposite direction, all the while pathetically berating myself for not being brave enough to walk up to you and ask what I've always wanted to. So with each step, my heart thuds against my ribcage, threatening to leap out of my chest from how rapidly it's beating.

That day, I made a promise to myself. To forget about you. 

Now I stare at the now spacious gaps of my house after I threw all the things that reminded me of you. The amount of framed photos I had of us that decoratively adorned the walls, the shirt you willingly let me have which once carried your scent, and the beautiful magnets we collected from our trips, how could I avoid the memory of you?

But when I gathered all the boxes, I tried to throw them out, but my heart couldn't. I couldn't.

After 16 days of trying to follow my promise, I broke it. I called you, so now I hope this voicemail gets to you, Kazuha. Cause this is the last time I'll say goodbye to you, I'm sorry, but you won't see me again. 

- - - - woaah that was tuff :)) hope you guys liked it !!

3 months ago

Sukuna and His Goddess Waifu

So, how did he pull you?

Simple. He decided.

Sukuna first saw you when he was just a small, scrappy child—a nameless orphan wandering among mortals, unloved and unwanted. Maybe you were helping someone, maybe you were just passing by, but to him, it was fate. You knelt down, offered him food, kissed his forehead with the gentlest touch, and walked away with a soft smile.

That was it. That was all it took.

"Yes," he thought. "That. That right there will be my wife."

There was just one tiny problem.

He was a nobody. A weak, starving child. And you? You were something else. Something divine.

So, what did he do? He trained. He bled. He broke his bones, healed, then broke them again. He clawed his way to power, forcing the world to acknowledge him. No longer a weakling, no longer a mere mortal—he became something more. Something worthy.

But then came the real problem.

How the hell was he supposed to find you?

Because, as it turns out, his dumbass had only seen you once in his entire life. And, to make matters worse, there was a very real possibility that he had imagined the whole thing.

Wow, Sukuna. Great job. Truly a genius-level plan.

Still, he refused to give up. He grew stronger and stronger, thinking maybe, just maybe, with enough power, he could track you down—sense you, find you, claim you. But the years passed, and doubt crept in.

Had you ever been real?

Were you just a dream? A fantasy conjured up by a lonely, starving child? Because let’s be honest—you were too perfect, too pure, too good.

The realization hit him like a boulder to the chest. The defeat, the disappointment—unbearable. And slowly, he gave up.

Besides, even if you had existed, by now you’d be too old for him. Or worse—already married. Or dead.

He had played himself. Gotten his hopes up for nothing.

And then—

He saw you.

Even more beautiful. Even more perfect. Even more… you.

It was after a long, bloody war. He had wandered into a quiet bay, stepping into the cool water to wash away the grime of battle. That’s when he saw it—soft ripples, a gentle glow, the outline of a figure.

At first, he thought it was a water spirit. Or maybe a curse.

No.

It was you.

There you were, bathing peacefully, unaware that you had just shattered the last bit of reason left in his soul. And that’s when everything clicked.

You weren’t human.

And you would—in fact—be his wife.

No doubt about it.

He had planned this moment for years. Thought of what he’d say, how he’d announce himself like the all-powerful being he had become. He’d make a grand impression, take your breath away with his presence alone.

Then—before he could even figure out how to start—you turned your head and smiled.

"Oh," you said, tilting your head slightly. "You’ve grown up."

That was it. That was the first thing you said to him.

Sukuna was waiting.

Waiting for you to say something else—anything—that acknowledged how impressive he was. Maybe a gasp of realization. A whisper of awe. A wow, you've become so powerful and handsome, please take me now.

Instead, you just… kept bathing.

Like he was a particularly large and grumpy bird that had landed nearby.

His eye twitched. "You’ve grown up? That’s all you had to say?"

You tilted your head, watching him like he was some amusing little creature. "Well, you have," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You were just a little cub when I last saw you."

Cub.

Cub?

Sukuna clenched his fists, trying to decide whether he should be offended or just sink into the ground and perish.

You, meanwhile, were still looking at him with the same gentle, unreadable expression. If anything, you seemed fond. Which was not helping.

"You—" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "You remember me?"

"Of course I do." You gave him a little smile, but to him, it felt like you had just carved your name into his soul. "You were such a sweet little thing."

He was not sweet.

He was not little.

He was a warlord. A demon. A walking catastrophe.

But to you?

Just a sweet little thing.

Sukuna gritted his teeth, taking a step forward, making the water shift around his massive frame. "Listen, woman—"

You laughed softly. "You sound the same."

Oh, that was it. That was the final straw.

Something in his brain—already barely holding on—snapped.

You were his. That was final.

And if you didn’t realize it yet, you would.

"Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" His voice was lower now, rough and commanding, but his hands trembled where they hovered near you—like he wanted to touch you but was restraining himself. "You think you can just… feed me, smile at me, and disappear?!"

You blinked up at him. "I wasn’t aware I needed your permission."

Oh, he liked you. He really liked you.

A growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, his massive frame blocking out the rest of the world. "You belong to me. You have always belonged to me."

You just hummed, tilting your head like you were considering something. "Hmm. No, I don’t think I do."

He inhaled sharply, like you had physically stabbed him.

You were toying with him. You had to be.

"You will," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I’ll make sure of it."

He had spent years searching for you. Built himself into a monster. Became something worthy. And now, here you were, looking at him like he was nothing but a large, stubborn tiger who had wandered into your bath.

By the time he was done, you wouldn’t just acknowledge him.

You’d never leave his side again.

----

It didn’t take long before you two got married.

Not because Sukuna asked—no, no. That would imply he gave you a choice.

The moment he found you, he had already decided. And Sukuna, being the absolute menace he was, did not handle obstacles well. Which was unfortunate for you, because you, dear wife, had tested him endlessly.

It wasn’t intentional, really. You were just… yourself.

And that was the problem.

Because Sukuna had spent his entire life thinking you were divine. Unreachable. Unteachable. Something he could never fully grasp, no matter how much power he amassed.

He was okay with that. Fine, even.

Because at the end of the day, you were his wife.

He had made his dream woman his wife.

And on the first night of your wedding, for the first time in his life, Sukuna slept like a baby.

———

The next morning, he woke up feeling good.

Too good. Suspiciously good.

He sat up, stretching his absurdly large frame, and glanced at you. There you were, sleeping peacefully beside him, completely unbothered by the fact that you had married a warlord, a demon, a walking calamity.

He squinted.

Were you real?

He poked your cheek.

You swatted his hand away in your sleep.

Okay. So you were real.

He flopped back onto the bed, exhaling. "Shit."

You were his. Officially. Legally. Spiritually. Cosmically.

And suddenly, his brain—already running on delusional husband energy—decided something else.

"I need to build her a temple."

———

The next time you saw him, he was pacing back and forth, talking to his men.

"The biggest," he was saying. "No—bigger than that. If it’s not visible from the godsdamned heavens, you’ve failed me."

You stared at him, unblinking. "Sukuna."

He turned, eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Wife."

"Why are you terrorizing the architects?"

"I’m building you a temple."

You blinked. "A temple?"

"Yes. The biggest. The most magnificent. Something worthy of you."

You crossed your arms. "Sukuna, I don’t need a temple."

He stared at you like you had just spoken complete nonsense. "Of course, you do. You’re my wife. You deserve the best of the best."

"I think a nice house would be fine."

"No."

"Sukuna—"

"No."

He folded his arms, looking at you like a very stubborn, very large child who refused to compromise.

You sighed. "Fine. If you insist. But make sure it has a good kitchen."

His eyes narrowed. "…Why?"

"Because I want to cook."

He recoiled. "YOU want to cook?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Sukuna—"

"No wife of mine is cooking. That’s what servants are for."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I like cooking."

"I like destroying entire armies, but you don’t see me asking for permission, do you?"

"That is not the same thing—"

"You’re my goddess. You should be worshipped, not slaving over a stove."

"Cooking is not slavery—"

"Debatable."

You sighed. "Fine. Then I’ll cook in secret."

He squinted. "I’ll know."

"No, you won’t."

"Yes, I will."

"You won’t."

He pointed at you. "I will."

You stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills.

Eventually, he huffed. "Fine."

You raised a brow. "Fine?"

"Fine." He scowled, looking away. "But only when I’m not around."

You smiled. "Deal."

He narrowed his eyes. "I feel like I just lost something."

You patted his arm. "You did."

---

Sukuna had seen many things in his life. But watching a golden celestial chariot descend from the sky, carrying beings who radiated power beyond reason, was new.

Your parents stepped out first, looking like they just owned the entire universe—which, to be fair, they probably did. Your mother, a glowing figure draped in cosmic silk, gave Sukuna a once-over and sighed, like she was disappointed her daughter had married a mortal warlord. Your father, a towering being with burning stars in his eyes, simply nodded at Sukuna like he was approving a pet.

Then came your brother. Mars.

He was huge, arrogant, and immediately tried to fight Sukuna on sight.

"Ah, so this is the man who stole my sister," Mars sneered, cracking his knuckles. Sukuna blinked. "I didn't steal her, you overgrown meteor." "You married her." "...Yes?" "FIGHT ME."

The entire village was watching as the god of war (your brother) kept lunging at Sukuna while your parents casually observed, judging Sukuna’s performance like it was some royal tournament.

You, meanwhile, were busy playing with the village children, completely ignoring the chaos behind you.

At some point, Sukuna turned to you—panting, shirt half torn, arms bruised from fighting an actual god—and yelled, "WOMAN, CONTROL YOUR FAMILY!"

You just waved at him cheerfully. "You’re doing great, babe!"

At dinner, Sukuna finally got a moment to sit down—only to learn even worse news.

Your mother sighed dramatically. “I was hoping our daughter would marry someone divine, but I suppose this will do.” Your father sipped his celestial wine, eyeing Sukuna. “He’s strong. And stubborn. I like that.” Mars just scoffed. “I still think we should throw him into a black hole and see if he survives.”

Sukuna was about to cuss all of them out until he noticed—

You were glowing.

Not like metaphorically. No. You were literally glowing, like the moon had chosen to radiate directly from your skin. The villagers whispered about your true form, about how no one is allowed to look upon you unless you grant them permission.

And it hit Sukuna like a ton of bricks.

He had always known you were divine. He had just never fully processed what that meant.

He married a literal celestial being. His in-laws were gods of the freaking planets. His brother-in-law was trying to kill him every five minutes. And now there was a rumor going around that mortals couldn’t even look at you.

"...Am I—" Sukuna paused, rubbing his temples. "Am I the only mortal who’s allowed to see you?"

You blinked innocently. "Well, yeah. You’re my husband."

The villagers gasped.

Mars choked on his wine. "WAIT. HE’S SEEN YOUR TRUE FORM?" Your mother narrowed her eyes. "So that’s why he’s still alive." Your father chuckled. "Interesting. I suppose he’s truly worthy, then."

By the end of the night, Sukuna had:

Survived three fights with Mars.

Been subtly threatened by your father.

Judged by your mother.

Accidentally started a cult because now the villagers worshipped him as your celestial consort.

The next morning, as your family prepared to leave, Mars gave Sukuna one last death glare. "If you hurt her, I will personally rip you from the fabric of existence." Sukuna rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Get off my planet."

As the golden chariot ascended, Sukuna let out a long, suffering sigh.

Then he turned to you.

"...I need a vacation from your family."

You just smiled, completely unbothered. "Aww, but they love you!"

---

just shut up and enjoy it and the super bowl is kinda good the halftime show is about to be elite.

1 year ago

HES SO FINEEEEE

240516

Changbin X Dolce & Gabbana by WKorea

1 week ago

To those who keep scrolling... this is not just another link ⚠️.

This is my home—bombed and reduced to rubble🏡❤️‍🩹.

This is my room—crushed until its height became less than 30 cm💔 🧱.

To Those Who Keep Scrolling... This Is Not Just Another Link ⚠️.
To Those Who Keep Scrolling... This Is Not Just Another Link ⚠️.

This is my teddy bear and the cover of my bed—pulled from under the debris with my own hands🧸🥹.

To Those Who Keep Scrolling... This Is Not Just Another Link ⚠️.

We spent over a month clearing rubble just to build a tent beside the ruins ⛺.

To Those Who Keep Scrolling... This Is Not Just Another Link ⚠️.

But even the tent wasn’t allowed to stay... ❌

We were forced to leave—by an order from the occupation ⚠️🥹.

It feels like every trace of life is being taken from us, again and again 😔 .

I’ve shared. I’ve begged. I’ve screamed💔.

But the silence around me is louder than my pain🥹.

This isn’t just a donation campaign—this is a cry for life ✊.

If you can’t donate, share 🤝.

And if you can’t share—don’t look away like nothing is happening👌🏻.

Some of us are being buried alive—under the world’s silence🔥.

Donate to Amira's Story: Between Hope and Resilience - A Call for Soli, organized by Abdallah Alanqar
gofundme.com
When sorrow and difficulties strike hard, hope becomes the lo… Abdallah Alanqar needs your support for Amira's Story: Between Hope and Resil
1 year ago

Skz makes a bet on you Maknae Line

Pairing: OT8 SKZ x GN!Reader

Genre, AU: angst ofc, lovers to exes!AU

Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, many mentions of insecurities. I think that abt it

Summary: you happened to learn one day that the never really loved you and only made a bet with the other members to see if you would fall in love with them

A.N: Not proof read at all and this is the maknae line to the previous one. Both part twos will be coming out soo I promise🤭

Parts: Hyung Line Part 2

Skz Makes A Bet On You Maknae Line

HAN JISUNG It was his birthday and you were more than happy to surprise him. The members were in on it too. To suddenly stop during practice and sit him down.

For the whole day you were preparing. Making a cheesecake for him and baking a cake for the rest of the members. You decorated the cheesecake in some little quokka cake pops. After you were done, you began cooking his favorite meals and packing them up. When all the cooking, making, and cooking was done, you found that you had more time on your hands. So you felt the need to clean the house so it’d be all tidy when he got back.

You checked the time before heading out. The house was clean, food was ready, now all you needed to do was get a gift and drive to the company. As you strolled through the store a very particular item caught your eye. A small clip earring with a feather at the end. It was perfect. Jisung always called you his, quote on quote, “Little Dove.”

So you grabbed it and put it in a little box with a bow.

You drove to the company excitedly. Giving the food to the staff before making your way to the practice room. You were just about to step in when you heard it. The color drained form your face and the excitement you held earlier, gone.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since me and y/n started dating and we made that bet.” You heard your boyfriend say.

Bang Chan tried to stop him. “Jisung, I think—”

“You guys have to remember! We made a bet to see if I could pull y/n. Y’all made me go up to her and ask if she wanted to date me because she seemed lonely and if she agreed then I’d get 20 bucks from each of y’all.”

You could hear the boys try to stop him since they knew you were here but it was too late. They turned to see the door to the practice room slowly creak open. Standing there with the cake in your hands and tears in your eyes.

“Happy Birthday, Baby.” You said as tears fell from your eyes. Quickly wiping them away since it was supposed to be a happy occasion. Placing the cake into a staff members hands, you shoved the box into your pocket. “I-I-I guess I’ll give you what you want for your birthday gift.” You turned and ran as far as you can. Dropping the gift into the trash can on your way out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LEE FELIX He knew you were this insecure so how could he say that. You’d always hated your figure since before you could remember. Whenever you met someone new, that was the first thing they noticed. The size of your body. You hated the way you looked but Felix always told you different. He made you believe you were as beautiful as you are and you slowly gained your confidence.

That was until today. The confidence he helped you build, he tore down himself.

Today, you came home a bit earlier than usual. When walking through the door, you announced your arrival but Felix was nowhere in sight. You could hear the slight mumbling coming from another room. You had forgotten. He had told you that Minho was coming this morning.

After taking off your shoes and hanging your coat, you walked over to the door. Just so happening to hear what they were conversing. The cat-like boy began first. “You remember that bet we made?”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend replied.

“You’ve got to give it to me that you and y/n started dating in the first place.” “Ohhh!!! That’s what you’re talking about. The bet, right?”

“Yeah, when I told you I’d give you one hundo if you got the fat girl’s number. Now it’s been two years since you guys started dating.” Too immersed in your own shock, you dropped the items you were holding. Tears filled your eyes. Both, Felix and Minho’s, heads jerked in your direction.

“Y/n? How long have you been standing there?” Felix asked you in a panic.

“N-not long…”

You picked up your things from the floor, reput on your shoes and coat, grabbed your keys, and headed out the door. You didn’t know if you could stay any longer. You felt hurt to hear that. He helped you through your insecurities just to make it worse than before he arrived. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ KIM SEUNGMIN Your whole world fell apart. And so did your oh so perfect relationship with Seungmin.

It was just a petty argument that came from stress and the lack of sleep but it still hurt you. It actually hurt more than you thought it would. But what hurt most of all was what you had to find out.

Seungmin returned home after tour extremely tired so you did your best. You made sure he had every meal and wasn't overwhelmed. But apparently, you didn't do enough. He began to berate you for even the smallest things and it tore your heart apart.

One day, as you laid on the bed the two of you shared, he slammed the bedroom door open. You flinched and looked up at him. A little bit annoyed you asked, "The hell was that for?"

He sighed and glared at you.

"You want to know? This comeback has been stressful and all you do is lay in bed all day. You never clean around the house even though you're only doing a part-time job. I mean seriously, are you just going to be that FUCKING LAZY!?"

You looked at him in disbelief. Never in a million years did you ever expect to see this side of him.

"I literally just got done cooking and came to lay on the bed. I was waiting for YOU to get home. I washed our clothes, folded them, put them away, then cleaned around the house. I did all this because I know you like your place tidy. Plus, a clean space is better for the mind."

"You call this clean!? It looks like a pigsty." You felt the tears blazing at the corner of your eyes. "Don't fucking say that. I'm trying my best to not say anything right now." "Say it then!!" He yelled. You huffed and turned away not wanting to argue any longer. "Yeah... turn away like you always do. I should've just left you as a bet. Never loved you in the first place."

It was a slip of the tongue. He didn't mean it. Or did he? Either way, it hurt you. Seungmin knew he was wrong but didin't want to admit itin the heat of the moment.

You turned to face him, finally letting the tears out. "Fuck you..." Was all you said before grabbing your phone and leaving the house. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ YANG JEONGIN It was accidental. Jeongin was so flustered in the moment that he confessed everything to you. He didn't intend for you to find out like this but how else were you suppose to?

The both of you were at dinner with the other members. They all teased Jeongin for being such a simp for you. You just chuckled at their antics. It was cute to see the youngest member get teased by his hyungs and you were glad to witness it all in first person.

Jeongin, being fed up, accidentaly let it slip.

"Well it was because you guys made a bet with me that if I could pull y/n then y'all would buy me the new Bruno Mars album."

Everyone went silent as you slowly faced him. "What did you say..?"

Jeongin immediately placed a hand over his mouth. Tears brimmed your eyes. You stood up, excusing yourself. "I-I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." None of them even tried to stop you. They knew that they'd be devastated in your situation too.

Were you being a little dramatic? The answer was yes. You could've heard Jeongin out instead of hiding in the bathroom. But at this point, you weren't so sure. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ taglist: @lolareadsimagines @garrixer-06 @bandolls @chansbabygirlsstuff @camilagonzalex @mariteez @beccaskz

2 years ago

this made me feel 😫🦋✨

Let's all appreciate this man right here <3

Our night together (y.jh x reader)

"The sea seems like it's longing for something.." you quiver, the cold breeze meddling with your skin as your eyes gaze upon the weeping sea. "It's a very lovely sight." You added. Jeonghan fumbles over the blanket laid on the grass, trying to find a comfortable position before deciding to sit up and lay his head on your shoulder.

"Y/n, it's getting a little bit too late. Let's go home." He mumbles, but you didn't seem to hear his remark. He watches as you stare deeply into the sea like you're trying to find something that'll satisfy your visual perception.

Not until he snaps you back to reality, by just laying his head down on your lap, leaving you startled and flustered. Chuckling, you caress his dark locks and sung a short lullaby. He hums the melody with you contentedly, his soft angelic voice slowly drifting off to a deep sleep.

"Sleep well, my dear." you whisper, sitting back on the tree behind you. With one last look at the sea, you, as well, have dozed off.


Tags
1 year ago

changbin the things u do 😔

CHANGBIN SKZ CODE, EP.45
CHANGBIN SKZ CODE, EP.45
CHANGBIN SKZ CODE, EP.45
CHANGBIN SKZ CODE, EP.45

CHANGBIN SKZ CODE, EP.45

1 year ago

THE MAN YOU ARE.

Oh, My God, Man.
Oh, My God, Man.

Oh, my God, man.

10 months ago

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓. | 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓. | 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

— when your greatest love throws itself at you at a time you’re not meant for it, do you risk it all, or keep your peace?

content/warnings: romance, angst, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, unrequited love (misunderstanding), emotional cheating, has a timeskip, modern au. unedited.

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓. | 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

Deep into August, the sun extends its arms over the horizon to caress your bare legs. Your arm is thrown across your face to shield you from the sun, the narrowed eyes contrasting with the equally blinding grin you wore. Toes curled into the sand, you buried yourself deeper into the lap of the person as grim as the dark shades he wore, a handsome frown visible on his agitated face. You couldn’t help but smile wider and reach up to pluck the shades from his nose, appreciating that he accompanied you to the beach despite being uncomfortable with crowds.

“Xiao?”

“What?”

“Am I deep winter or smooth spring?”

Brows furrowing, he licks his lower lip before closing his book, the tip of his index finger squeezed between the pages. Sweat trickled down his skin, sure to have the ink staining his damp fingers until the words slowly tattooed itself onto his skin. Sitting up, you steal his free hand into yours and watch as Xiao’s gaze zeroes on your fingers looping through his, cheeks tinted red either from the heat or your gesture.

“You’re summer August, and I’m deep winter,” he answers vaguely, retracting his hand before shielding his eyes with the shades sat at your lap. “Does that answer your question?”

“It does, but I have another one. Why am I summer August?”

Xiao’s nose scrunched–a rather adorable sight, if you were asked. “You’re warm. If the color yellow or orange became a person, it would’ve been you. Bright. Radiant,” the concentration on his face mirrored the ones he wore when working. You wish he’d relax a little bit on your rare day off’s–the sun is out, children are laughing around, and there’s a nearby shaved ice stand; everything is beautiful in this moment but you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand Xiao’s stoicism.

There’s warmth pooling in his eyes, one you only witness when you’re in his presence.

It makes your heart skip a beat until it comes tumbling down the hill of unrealistic thoughts over the hopeless desire that maybe one day, he’ll like you back.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Smirking, you wiggle your eyebrows and tease him. “Like what?”

“I don’t know! You look weird, like... like–”

“Like I want to absolutely kiss you right now?” Because you did. His cute little hat sits on top of his head so endearingly that you so badly want to take a picture. You want to stare at him a little longer, admire the redness spreading from his nose to his cheeks, watch the way his lower lip curls into his mouth each time he gets flustered, and burn the image of him at the back of your brain.

Xiao, your best friend since the first August of university, and the man you’ve always foolishly pined for despite his constant rejection.

Still, you trail around him like a lost puppy, ignoring his confused yet shy stares each time you announced your presence, and basically decided that you were now going to be his friend, which is the best decision of your life. Xiao isn’t someone you needed to get out of his shell; you had to learn how to enjoy the silence of his life, and respect it.

It’s entirely contradictory to your summer August bumbling self. You’re clumsy where he is always ready to catch you. He’s firm when you are swaying side to side after enjoying too many mimosas from the beach bar. He’s quiet and forever gentle in tucking you under the covers before pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you think of how his lips are summer August hot when it comes to contact with your skin. You think about the young man who sees himself as deep winter, clad in the knitted sweaters you had given him as a gift walk through your door, and hesitantly looks around as if he hasn’t been here a hundred times before.

Where he is deep winter and stiff as a rock when you dance with him under the Christmas lights, you’re the bonfire easing him to relax his muscles, and just enjoy the beat. “We look silly dancing,” he says, then follows up on how he doesn’t like being less of what he deems proper.

But he dances. He twirls you and smiles whilst you laugh, cuts the cheese and swirls the wine in the glass while you drunkenly send him flying kisses – you’re as passionate as he is emotionally numb, and he is the muted version of all your raging emotions.

Whereas you are the definite yes, he is the hesitant no.

“Xiao.”

“If you’re going to tell me you love me again, thank you. I love you too, but you’ve been babbling it non-stop for the entire night. I think I get your point.”

“Do you?” you giggle, mouth hid behind your hand before you grow more serious, head tilted to the side. “Do you truly? If I said I love you right now, and I’ve always been in love with you, are you still going to reject me?”

Xiao’s frown deepens even more. “There’s nothing to be loved about me.” “There’s plenty.”

“Maybe that’s just you,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “The familiarity of having me around might be confusing you. We’re best friends, but that’s all there is. I don’t really see any logical reason for you to develop such deep, sincere feelings for me when I’m not even an ideal lover, so if I were to reject you, it’s not because I don’t want you. A relationship with me would just ruin our friendship, and...”

“Complicate things?”

“Complicate things, yeah.”

“But would you let me love you?”

He doesn’t respond right away. He mulls over it–you can tell by the slight pinch of his brow, the way his back droops down as he stares at the ground as if to ask himself if he’s even worthy of the affection you badly wanted to give him. The only problem is he doesn’t see this. Not just with you, but with everyone else. Xiao is deep winter; reclusive, cold, unaffectionate. It’s impossible for him to see himself the way you do.

“I think you’re drunk, so I don’t take you seriously,” is his response after several beats, hooking his arms under your armpits to guide you back into your room. “Sleep it out. Then we’ll talk.”

You never have that talk. The unspoken words hang like the mistletoe in the air which Xiao deliberately ignores. Head hung low, lips pursed and pale as if locks held back the truth he wished to convey and begged to set free. But Xiao was the living epitome of self restraint–he quietly slithers next to you in bed instead when he thinks you’re asleep, unaware that you’ve steadied your breathing through the drunken haze–and says nothing else.

No I love you’s like you wish to hear.

But there goes his face slowly moving next to yours, his lips pressed at the top of your hair as his gentle hands reach for the blanket to cover your chest. Arms snaking through your waist to hold you close when close is not close enough, and the space does nothing but grow wider the harder your heart yearns, you begin to close your eyes.

This moment will not last. Moments are called such for they are fleeting and experienced shortly, yet lives on forever in faulty memories that eventually fades away. So you clutch it and engrave it to your bone–the shape of his body next to yours, the foolish hopes tying you to a future where it couldn’t exist–and desperately hope that you get to keep at least this minute where you feel his heart caged with yours.

And when his side of the bed (your bed, truthfully, but he’ll always have a place next to you) grows cold in the middle of the night, and his shoes disappears besides yours on the porch, the true winter begins and August ebbs away.

The ice melts.

Not a peep could be heard in the deep winter. There’s nothing but warmth emanating from the remnants of his vulnerability, which for once, you liked to believe he also feels the same way even when he’s not yours.

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓. | 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

You believe people will always have that love which never comes for them no matter how hard you chase for it. You could go to the ends of the earth, bang on someone’s door, go down on your knees and make promises of the happiness you can ensure, but all is useless when the house is empty. There is nobody to open the door. No one to welcome you when you walk through the space, or arms to fall into after a long day. The lavatory would be too spacious for a single person when it could fit two pairs of hips standing next to each other as you brush your teeth together.

But there is Thoma, and the house has never been more brightly lit than you’ve ever seen it. It doesn’t have to be Christmas deep in winter when fairy lights are strewn everywhere, giving a magical aura to an even more stunning home decorated by framed photographs of you and him on walls like you were his proudest memory. And you are.

From the moment you’ve met Thoma, it’s been summer all year throughout. His kisses are heated as they are honey-like. The words he spoke are like poetry blotted in brown paper with the promise of a lip stain on a napkin corner. He is perfect and real, and loves you more than you could ever imagine yourself to be loved, and you are getting married.

Wedding preparations, amidst its chaos and stress inducing events, felt fulfilling. You and Thoma would be occupied day and night planning things to perfection, followed by a kiss on the cheek to reassure you nothing had to be extravagant if you wouldn’t prefer it. You’re already perfect, your fiancé would whisper between exchanged breaths, there’s nothing you need to worry about. But his efforts leave the opposite effect when your fingers land on a certain invitation printed with a name that has been echoing in your head for years.

Cruel as it may be, you begin to wonder if you’ve fully mourned the loss of someone who has never been yours.

“Wow. You’re getting married.”

“Yeah, I am.

Before you, your best friend, Xiao sits. He’s clad in a suit, all firm lines smoothed into perfection with every move of his muscle as he leant back in his seat.

You couldn’t fathom the emotions flittering through his handsome face. A pinch of the brow, his lower lip jutting out, index finger anxiously tapping at the table as if to call your attention to the empty finger just a space beside it. And truly, you’re as cruel as you can be, hiding your uncontrollable smile by ducking your chin at the thought he’s been unmarried this entire time.

“I… I didn’t know you were dating, but congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” you respond almost robotically, since everyone seems to repeat the same phrase over and over again until it got tiring. “I would really love if you were our best man. Thoma’s best friend, Ayato, was the original best man but I requested if it could be you instead since the maid of honors are already Thoma and Ayato’s friends. It would’ve been nice if I could have you there.”

Xiao offers a tight lipped smile. The years that have passed start to show in his face, yet his beauty only sinks deeper within his bones. Shoulders broad enough with the strength to carry the entire world from it, lips thin and perhaps just as soft as you envision if you’ve only ever kissed it – seeing him again after how long felt surreal. Unfathomable. So much has changed, yet you still stayed the same. Fighting the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl whenever your crush was in your presence, and him being completely oblivious to your affection.

The only difference now is that you’re to be wed, and for the first time ever, Xiao looks mildly displeased at something you say. “Sure, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Your gut tells you he doesn’t mean it. Thoma’s face disappears for a moment at the back of your mind, and your belly churns as you lean forward. You shouldn’t be prying into other people’s lives when you’re about to spend your entire one with another. It’s common sense, yet you’ve not always been the brightest when you smile up at him fondly again, heart aching beneath your clothes it became difficult to breathe.

All because your silly heart still longs for the one person you can’t have.

“So how have you been?” is nothing but a silly excuse of tell me everything I missed. Let’s condense the years into this few minutes the universe allows us before the time stops ticking and we need to part our separate ways again. Tell me, from the slightest detail of your most mundane day, and I’ll listen.

“The same as always. I’m doing just fine.”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m content.”

“Those two things are different.”

Xiao shakes his head in amusement; you still haven’t gotten rid of that stubborn head sititng between your shoulders. “Not much has changed about me or my life, Y/N. There’s nothing exciting to tell,” one of his shoulders lift in a shrug before he gestures to you, “You’re getting married, though, and I didn’t hear or see this coming at all. It sounds like you have more stories to tell than I do.”

“I’ve always tried telling you about Thoma, you were just… busy. All the time.”

You were never there, but Thoma was. Resentment and hurt leaves a bitter taste in your tongue that Thoma’s sugary lips could barely coat them between kisses.

“We’re grown adults. We both have jobs. You understand my line of work is demanding and I can’t give you dating advice whenever you need it. Not to mention, I’m not the best to approach for those kinds of things considering my lack of experience.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for that, I just wanted to talk to my best friend.”

Xiao takes a moment to study your face. Pursing his lips, he gives you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I should’ve made more time for you.”

Silence hangs in the air. So much time has been wasted–you’ve graduated university, established your own careers, and have had your fair share of meeting and leaving people who come into your life. Xiao, on the other hand, simply drifted off into thin air. Hanging out at the beach no longer seemed like a possible occurrence when it’s been tradition, and you eventually had to get used to being left on delivered. There’s a magnanimous amount of gaps left in between these spaces, and you want to be greedy. You want him to be in every page you’ve written, every ending you’ve created, if only he was there. But he wasn’t. Thoma was, and he’s colored your canvas in colors you haven’t seen before when your summer August only knew the silence of deep winter.

The what if’s linger deep until it settles onto the blank snow, blanketing you both with the thoughts of what could’ve been if Xiao had only replied to your texts one by one.

Would Thoma have remained in your life? Would you be getting married to someone you never expected to meet? Would you have slowly forgotten what the beach looked like since there’s no point digging your feet in the sand when you didn’t have Xiao who constantly nagged you to stay still?

All these rhetorical questions, and Xiao still manages to take you aback when he chuckles to himself, the sound dry and exhausted. The shoulders who carried the weight of the world sags in defeat. “You know, it’s funny. I always imagined I’d be marrying you.”

The world crashes. The café you met up in goes silent, the people moving about rooting frozen from their spots yet your tea goes cold from the forever of beats that passed between words.

“What?”

“I remember you were always teasing me when we were younger. I thought it was cute, and I often dreamed that we’d end up together, but now you’re getting married and it’s far from everything I expected,” glancing at your engagement ring and the invitation letter sitting hauntingly between you, Xiao falters in his words. “But… I am happy for you. I can’t be happier now that I know you’re with a good man.”

“What… how… how can you say that, Xiao? Do you really have no idea how much I love you?”

“What do you mean?” he laughs nervously, “You were messing around back then.”

“I wasn’t. I meant every word I said.”

Shrugging, he looks down at his coffee with a frown so forlorn he embodies deep winter with not a warm body around to keep him company. “None of it matters now, does it? You are to be married, and I’ll go back to living my life once this all passes.”

“Passes? You think everything is that easy?”

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. Our feelings are exactly just that; feelings. They’ll come and go,” Xiao reassures, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “You’re about to be married, and I want nothing but for you to be happy. Thoma is the kindest man you’ll ever meet so you’ll live a great life. You don’t need to look at me like that–you haven’t lost a thing.”

You haven’t lost a thing.

Not at all. How could you ever lose something you were never quite certain was yours to begin with? But now, it rested at the palm of your hands. Curled up like an innocent creature soaking up the warmth of your fingers until you’d been bled dry and iced to the bone, the rhythm of your heart bringing back to life what had never been dead, rather frozen in time.

“If it’s meant to pass, then why have I been in love with you for as long as I can remember?”

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓. | 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

“Hey, welcome home!” Thoma greets the moment you enter your shared apartment, helping you get rid of your boots and hang your coat while you stare at the ground numbly. “How was your meeting with your friend? Did everything go well? Come tell me all about it through dinner–I made your favorite.”

You lean against the wall for support.

Your life is perfect. Every sane person would die for what you have: a loving, handsome fiancé who comes home early everyday to cook the food he knows you like, a cozy place to spend forever in, the scent of almond tofu screaming home and comfort. And then there’s Thoma, eagerly setting up the table and taking a chair for you when he notices you standing idly by the doorway, his smile creasing into worry as you swallow audibly.

He could tell from just one look of your face that tonight isn’t as good as he hoped. “Thoma…”

He’s beside you in the blink of an eye. Wrapping you in his strong arms, your fiancé rubs his hand up and down your back, easing you as the tears release like a broken damn. “Oh, darling, what’s wrong?”

“Thoma, there’s something I need to tell you,” you pull back, using the hem of your sleeves to wipe away the tears. He’s so beautiful, so kind that you couldn’t have possibly have the heart to hurt him. But your heart belongs to someone else, and you can’t lie to an honest man. He deserves the truth and the truth you tell, nails digging at your thighs as each word that comes out of your mouth drives a knife deeper into his soul. You tell him how you’ve never moved on from a summer love, from an eternal longing, to this craving of a person who left a hole in your heart in which only they could fill.

And you can’t do anything except let Thoma take a step back from you, furiously blinking back the tears that threatened to push through. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Thoma sniffles. “Hey,” he tilts your chin up, warm eyes glistening.

The sight of him, so forgiving even without his words, still so gentle in the way he caresses your cheeks like you hadn’t just stomped on his heart a thousand times nearly made you question if you’re doing the right thing. You wait for it, the hesitance, the slight skip of your heart signaling when a bad decision was to be made, yet there’s none. Nothing but silence lingers at the back of your mind now that Xiao’s face lingers as it has been since the day you learn to love a little more and hope a little less.

“I’ve always known.”

“What…?”

“At the back of my mind, I always knew there must be someone else. You always felt so… distant. You didn’t quite see me in the times you looked at me, and I wondered if you were imagining someone else before you. I won’t deny that I’m hurt and it would take me a while to recover, but you’ve seen me, Y/N,” delicately, he slips off the ring off his fingers and tucks it into your palm, hidden and stored away for eternity like a promise meant to be broken. “This is the first time you’ve let me meet you as you are. So go to him; I won’t hold you back.”

Bringing your fist to your lips, you attempt to muffle your sobs. “I-if you knew the whole time, why did you p-propose to me?”

Thoma smiles, his eyes crinkling. “I love you, and I hoped you felt the same.” “But what about us?”

“Don’t worry about that anymore,” he rises to his feet, his car keys spinning around his finger as he turns to you with a bright, wistful grin. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go find your best friend.”

He doesn’t need to say more before you’re reaching for his outstretched hand, the gesture as familiar as breathing and your hand fitting perfectly with Thoma’s. You hold on extra tight when you beam up at him, both from disappointment and excitement, the both of you aware this is going to be the last time you’d ever hold each other this close. So you hold onto him for dear life as he opens the car door for you, revs the engine like you’re running out of time and perhaps you are, because Xiao always seems to be slipping through your fingertips and you’re not deep August under the blazing heat of the sun anymore.

It’s deep winter. The snow is getting thicker with each passing minute, the road covered in white until the snow begins to flake in your lashes when you step out the car.

Xiao lingers outside his apartment, his breath coming out in small, heated puffs with his brows knitted in thought. When he hears the crunching of your boots, his head spins to your direction, eyes wide at the breathless figure of you. “You,” he breathes out, blinking aghast as Thoma leans over the car door with a supportive smile. He pieces two and two together, and laughs in disbelief. “You’re insane–”

“Xiao, I’m in love with you. I always have been, but now I don’t want to let you go now that I know what you feel. You… you’re all I ever wanted. I couldn’t possibly imagine what my life would be like without you.”

His lips thin. It’s enough to make your heart lose hope again–you’ve seen this scenario happen to you before, how he shuts himself off the world after convincing himself he’s not worth the affection and love people give him. He calls himself names, degrades himself into a smaller, lesser being who’d be best off alone before people realize he’s not as great as people make it out to be. The solace of never seeing people frown at him has been the only way he’s ever known life, but you ever so lovingly smiling up at him since the day you met makes him feel this is a risk he can take.

Maybe now, it’s time to let his walls crumble and let the ice thaw, to let deep August bring warmth to his life.

Studying your ring-free finger, Xiao lets his shoulders drop before crushing you into an embrace. “You’re too damn stubborn, you know that?” he rasps into your ear, and you wrap your arms around him, the biting cold making it painful to cry–the world’s own way of telling you there should be no gloom on the day you’ve always been waiting for. “You forced your way into my heart and I don’t think I can ever close it for you again.”

“Don’t you dare,” you sniffle into his shoulders, “I’m staying with you until you don’t want me anymore.”

Xiao knows he’s never said it before. Every night, he tosses and turns in his sleep, replaying the memories of his youth where he rejects your not-so subtle confessions of love. Even as he grows older and his eyes grow more weary, there’s still that young man inside of him hoping it’s real. He runs away and hides in little corners in hopes he’d get you off his mind. Too afraid of the hurt love might bring, and this is the first time he can confidently say, “I’m not going anywhere. I stay right where you are.”

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