Summary: Youth doesn’t
depend on numbers and Seunghyun learns that lesson quite late in life.
Request: Seunghyun has a girlfriend younger than him.
Numbers, Seunghyun even hates the mere thought of said word. If people
asked him how great he did with numbers, then the answer would be that he
doesn’t even understand them properly. Back in high school, he failed almost
all his math classes and there’s a possibility that he promised to never have
anything to deal with them for the rest of his life. Luckily, he didn’t end up
studying math, instead following his dreams with music and art, which were
subjects that he understood rather excellently; however, there were certain
numbers that he really paid attention to. For example, how old he was getting.
Seunghyun was barely reaching his thirties and that –to some- is extremely
young, but when he’s already at his early thirties, it’s difficult to not feel
bad when his girlfriend is at her early twenties.
Not that it was much, but he felt extremely old, he doesn’t even believe that
time went by that fast.
He remembers the times when he was twenty-something years old, drinking
for the first time legally, trying out different hairstyles, getting to start
his career. Seunghyun remembered that moment perfectly and he thinks back to
them as something great, but he can’t help and feel a little insecure. He had his life planned out,
in the matter of years he might want to start a family, he even might have to look at his hair closely to check if there’s any
white locks and she was still young. Wouldn’t she prefer someone younger?
Perhaps someone who wasn’t so comfortable with sitting around at home and doing
nothing. He thinks of that as he continues to sketch on his notebook, Jiyong
playing a track over and over again as he hears the voice of the younger
“Are you gonna sit there and draw all night?” He asks and the oldest
only look up at him, nodding his head quickly before returning his gaze to the
–quite funny- sketch of an animal he was doing. The youngest sits right beside
him, falling quiet for a few seconds as he looks at how Seunghyun was drawing,
but the silence is cut short when he asks a question that was normal for him.
“How’s your girlfriend?” He shouldn’t have been mad when he heard those words,
but he really was a little bit saddened at
the moment. He stops sketching so he can breathe out a small answer.
“Don’t even mention her.” Youngbae stops looking down at his phone when
he hears those words. The two of them were really a good couple, they didn’t
fight often, so if they ever got to break up…then it was going to be a big
Their Au is called Winged Child and is based on Yuya’s suffering lmao. Basically Yuya’s destiny is to create a new world of hope and happy people but the people in the world he is born are corrupted and see him as a doom bringer. His left wing is Yuto and his right is Yugo and when Yuya feels scared and can’t handle the pressure, he changes into Yuri. This of course, fuels his doubt of being a demon even more.
Okay, but have you ever considered, John wearing Sherlock’s coat? And have you thought about Sherlock’s little smile when John can’t see because he knows his coat will smell like John the rest of the day?
Being bi is so odd sometimes bc I have a preference for girls but sometimes there’s a certain boy who sticks out and I’m like “WHOA BUDDY HOLD THE PHONE” but then I see a cute girl and I’m like “oh okay I’m back”
i’m bleeding out, but at least my dress is cute, right?
my eyeliners smudged from crying
but my smile is still pretty, my teeth are still white.
my hands are shaking but my nails are cute, so it’s okay.
i’m falling apart but i’m still beautiful, that’s enough, right?
they won’t notice, right? i can’t breathe, but it’s okay,
i’ve always been told i look pretty being choked,
this is the same, right?
i’m collapsing, aren’t i? but it’s okay, right?
at least they’ll bury me in something pretty,
As a closeted biro ace gal I want to thank all the mods for fighting the good fight. I hope Mods Ash and Bethany can keep your spirits up in your situation--you are loved and appreciated and it gets better! I am y'alls age but I recently moved away to escape the 'perfect big happy family' I was born into and I am so so much happier--you can and will heal have hope. *Also--Mod Ash is SO cute omg how. Like. So. Cute. Your face makes me happy.* *sorry okay love and positivity bye*
I was keeping this in here so Bethany could see it, but it’s just too cute to leave in the inbox. Thank you, anon! My head feels full of jello right now, but I’m pretty sure that’s just my meds. We’re doing our best to keep our chins up with all that’s going on.
It’s such a comfort–for me at least–to hear that your our age and escaped that situation. It gives me hope that I can get out soon.
Also, I’m trash; I’m really not that cute. I took a pic with a bow in my hair last night and like. What even is my face. It was probably because I just got back from work when I took it, but still. What even.
Can you please do a Keith confession scenario thank you.
ok so???? catboy keith and confession ??? sign me tf up
also haha as stated above, this is one of those catboy au’s so i hope it’s ok!
Today’s the day that Keith Kogane,
the cute catboy next door, is waiting for. Okay, scratch that. He’s definitely
not the catboy next door, considering that he lives not next door, but with
you, but still, he thinks that everyone can appreciate the fact that he’s still
the cutest catboy in town that anyone has ever seen regardless of the
fact that he isn’t living next door as stated in the above.
Anyhow, this is the moment he’s been
waiting for for a long while; this is the moment he’s been preparing himself for
quite a long time already. This is the opportunity he’s been wanting to get for
weeks, and Keith Kogane would be damned if he doesn’t manage to execute his
He’s currently in the living room,
sitting on one of the couches and staring at the clock placed on the wall in
front of him. His friend—okay maybe not really friend at this point, but still—Lance
is sitting on another couch that is placed directly beside the one he’s sitting
on, a video game console in his hands.
Lance’s focus is on the video game
in front of him, and yet when Keith turns his head to briefly glance at him, he
couldn’t stop the irritation fuelling his bones, traversing through his veins.
And why is that, you ask?
Earlier, Keith has asked him to
leave the confines of the living room, telling him to just take his gaming habits
elsewhere. Lance merely raises an eyebrow at him and frowns, asking him why in
the hell he’d do just that. And of course, as much as he doesn’t want to, Keith
Kogane is forced to reveal his grand plans to his friend the other
catboy, mentally praying to himself and all the Gods that they’d grant his
But Lance only smirks at him, his
eyes glinting mischievously in the evening light.
“Why should I do that?” he has
asked, his tone smug. Keith could practically feel his blood boiling in
irritation as the other boy continues his words, the smugness still oh-so
evident in the way he says the words.
“I live here too so I can play
wherever and whenever I want,” Lance continues, his black tail swishing from
side to side as if in a gesture of playfulness. Keith could almost swear that
the smirk in the other catboy’s face has widened just for a fraction. “And
besides, it would be pretty fun to watch you try and fail.”
has finished his words with so much smugness, with so much attitude that Keith has
to physically stop himself from wiping the smirk off of Lance’s face.
Keith glares at him, his ears flattening against his
head as he allows a low growl to escape his lips. “Shut up,” he says.
Lance merely laughs at his words, standing up and
walking toward his direction before giving him an encouraging pat in the back. Keith
swats Lance’s hand away before the latter could even finish the action, telling
him to back off and get his dusty paws away from him.
Lance allows another laugh to escape his lips as he
proceeds to walk back toward his place on the couch, proceeding to do his own
thing and get back to his video game once more, his ears twitching in interest
every once in a while.
Keith turns his head to glance once more in Lance’s
direction. The latter is ignoring him, still too engrossed in the game he’s
playing that he couldn’t even bring himself to pay any attention to his
Keith clenches his fist against his sides, and a look
of determination passes across his features.
Keith Kogane has to do this.
He’s waited far too long for this opportunity to
present itself, and he’d be damned if he’d allow a small nuisance distraction
to ruin everything for him.
It’s either now or never, and he’d be damned if he
doesn’t do this now.
Keith glances at the wall clock in front of him once
more. His tail begins to swish from side to side, indicating the nervousness
and jitters he’s currently feeling. You’re currently in the kitchen, preparing
a meal for the three of you, seemingly unaware of everything going around you.
Keith counts the minutes, the seconds in his head
before he finally deems himself ready to execute the plan itself. As soon as he
strikes to one, signifying the passing of another moment, he opens his mouth
and finally, finally, calls your
name, almost as if in an attempt to garner your attention.
“What is it?” you ask him from your spot in the
kitchen, making your voice loud enough to be heard. He could tell by the tone
of your voice that you’re distracted, seemingly a bit occupied by the dish
But he couldn’t wait for you to finish it. He’s scared
that if he does wait, he’d lose all the courage he’s tried to build up over the
weeks. And so he calls your name once more, and when you ask him whatever it is
he’s needed, he opens his mouth and answers, loud enough for you to hear.
“Come over here for a bit!”
“Okay,” he hears you say. There’s a subtle hint of
cheerfulness in your voice as a hum escapes your lips. “Wait just a second.”
As soon as he hears you approaching, Keith tries not
to let his nervousness show. He tries to calm his rapidly beating heart,
mentally telling it to calm down and stop palpitating too fast, too quick, and
commands his tail—swishing from side to side with so much force and power that
it’s almost dizzying to watch—to stay still.
It takes you another moment to finally arrive in the
kitchen room, and as soon as you do, you have a pleasant smile on your lips,
the most dazzling smile that Keith has ever seen.
“What is it that you need, Keith?” you ask, placing
your hands on your hips and looking at him. “Is there something wrong?”
Keith could feel Lance staring at him, too, watching
his actions, his movements. Keith tries to ignore him, trying to completely
block his presence out and opting to focus on a more important manner.
His ears twitch against his head, almost as if in
unease. He doesn’t seem to notice it, though, as he is too concentrated on
readying himself to say the next words. He takes a deep breath, almost as if to
brace himself, before he breathes the words out, his voice coming out a little
softer than he originally intended.
“Will you…?” he begins. He pauses for a moment,
licking his lips as if to give himself another pump of courage. He doesn’t even
seem to notice how his tail begins flicking from side to side, a definite sign
of his nervousness; he doesn’t even seem to notice how his ears keep twitching
every now and then, a mannerism he’s developed whenever he feels antsy.
It takes him a moment to continue, though he’s so
focused on trying to say the right words, the right sentence, the right
question that he isn’t able to watch the next words that come out of his lips.
“Will you go out of my house?” he asks suddenly,
seemingly not even realizing his words. Keith looks at you expectantly, waiting
for a reaction, waiting for a reaction, and seemingly still unaware of the
words he’d just uttered.
He sees you blink at him, once, twice, thrice, looking
almost like you couldn’t quite believe his words.
“Excuse me?” you say after a moment, sounding almost
disbelieved. “Last time I checked, this house actually belongs to me?” You make
it sound as though your words are a question, like you’re somehow uncertain,
unsure, as you utter them, but there’s also this subtle harshness in it, as
though Keith has just managed to hit a sensitive nerve in you.
It’s only until after he hears your words does he
begin to realize the nature of the words he’s uttered. His eyes widen in alarm
and he mentally curses himself for being stupid and managing to fuck everything
“That’s…” he begins, and he licks his lips nervously,
almost as if he’s afraid to continue to speak. His ears twitch once, twice,
thrice, and it takes him a moment to continue. And when he does, his voice is
soft, almost as if it were a whisper. “That’s not what I meant at all.”
Keith briefly turns to glance at Lancee……, who’s watching the situation
unfold before his very eyes with a smirk plastered on his features. Keith narrows
his eyes into a glare, wordlessly telling the other catboy to shut up.
“Oh, really?” you say, and Keith whips his head around
to face you once more. You’re looking at him, staring at him as though he’s the
only one you could ever see, looking at him as though he’s the only person
existing in the world. It’s almost as if you couldn’t notice anything but him;
it’s almost as if you’re blind to anything and everything happening to your
Keith could notice that there’s a light in your eyes,
something fiery, something ablaze. He could almost swear that it’s a mixture of
rage and annoyance, and he almost winces as he hears the next words slip out of
your mouth. “Enlighten me then. Tell me what you originally meant.”
“I meant…” he begins, oblivious to the fact that his
tail has begun swinging around once more, moving from side to side as if to
signify the unease he feels. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, as
though he’s struggling to find the right words to say.
He shoots another glance at the catboy sitting on the
other couch beside him, and Keith narrows his eyes into a glare when Lance only
gives him another teasing smirk. He turns back to face you and sees that you’re
still looking at him, hands crossed over your chest and seemingly waiting for
the answer to come out of his mouth.
Keith lowers his head and glances down on the floor
beneath his feet. He seems to be thinking about something. It takes him a
moment to continue speaking, and when he does his tone is different, back to
the normal, cocky tone you’ve always heard from him and slowly come to adore.
“You have to get out of the house,” he repeats and
when you look at him with incredulity in your eyes, like you couldn’t quite
believe whatever it is he’s saying, he only smirks at you.
“And why should I do that?” you ask him, narrowing
your eyes into a glare.
“Because,” he begins, and he turns his head to look at
the catboy sitting on the couch beside him. This time, it’s his turn to shoot
him a smirk. Lance, who’s holding a glass of water in his hand and trying to
drink his beverage in peace—and wherever he got that from Keith has no
idea—narrows his eyes at him and gives him a suspicious look, almost as if to
wordlessly ask him whatever it is he’s planned to say.
“Because,” he repeats again, in that same tone that
he’s used to utter his previous words. It’s the tone that tells you he’s up to
no good and that he’s not afraid of anything. Keith could feel Lance glaring
daggers at him, as though he’s already caught up on his plan. Keith pays him no
mind, though, choosing instead to continue.
“Because Lance has managed to lose his collar again,”
he finally says. Lance, who’s currently drinking his water in peace, suddenly
sputters in disbelief, making water spill all over the floor. He shoots Keith a
glare afterward, to which the latter promptly returns with another smirk.
“Really?” you say, interest suddenly piqued. You turn
your head to look at Lance, raising an eyebrow at him. The corners of your lips
tug down into a small frown as you speak your next words. “Is that true?”
Keith turns his head to look at Lance as well, suppressing
a smirk as soon as he does. Lance’s mouth open and close, similar to a gaping
fish. He struggles to say something, anything, but before he could even do so, Keith
has already beaten him to it.
“Yeah, it is,” he says. “If you’d look closely, you
can see that he isn’t wearing one.” A few moments of silence pass before Keith
decides to add, “You may want to check up on whatever it is you’re cooking.”
“Why?” you ask, turning your head to look at him. You
tilt your head to the side, curious.
“I can smell something burning,” he replies in a
monotone, his face stoic and devoid of any emotion. On the inside, though, he’s
probably definitely smirking, a bit glad that he’s manage to tear your
attention away from the subject once more, regardless of how evil his tactics
And besides, if it all comes down to it, Keith knows
that Lance would definitely blurt out his secret plan the moment he’s
questioned about it. Okay scratch that. Knowing him, Lance would probably blurt
it out without even being asked, seeing as the boy doesn’t know when to keep
his mouth shut sometimes…
You allow a small shriek to escape your lips and
before he could even blink, you’re already sprinting toward the kitchen, never
turning to look back.
As soon as you’re safely out of the kitchen, Keith
puts his face in his hands, seemingly dejected. He could hear Lance making
accusatory remarks from beside him, but Keith simply ignores him in favor of
being alone in his head, with only his own thoughts to keep him company.
Soon, he thinks
as a soft disappointed sigh escapes his lips.
He’ll have to think and devise a new plan to
successfully ask you out, but for now… he’ll just wallow in his own
disappointment, attempting to forget this day, attempting to forget this
Soon, he thinks
again, almost as if to remind himself, almost as if to encourage himself. He
nods his head at his own thoughts, hoping it’s true.
He’ll have more time to figure this out; he’ll have
more time to sort everything out, but for now, he has something more important
to take care of. And that is to shut the other catboy up, who’s now resorted
into teasing him about his so-called “lovesickness”.
Yep, he thinks
as he slowly stands up from his place in the couch, about to walk toward Lance
and beat him into a pulp put him in his place. Definitely soon.