”The world is ending and i don’t think that i can take it”
my mama was right it really is the damn phone. everyday i wake up and get ungodly irritated at the amount of bigotry and blatant injustice that pollutes my instagram and honestly any of my social media feeds. yeah i’m aware enough to know people suck, they’re hateful and crash but why am i genuinely letting my cortisol spike because of these people... i want to delete all social media so bad but i also love creating and consuming POSITIVE content. social media saved my life but now it’s ruining it and idk i just think my frontal lobe is developing? human beings were never supposed to have such easy widespread access to so many individual's thoughts, especially so many negative ones, and i think the surplus of knowledge is driving me into emotional overdrive and slowly killing me. my brain cannot compute anything anymore because it’s just constantly upset
'' You can't skip chapters, that's not how life works. You have to ride every line, meet every character. You won't enjoy all of it. Hell,some chapters will make you cry for weeks. You will read things you don't want to read, you will have moments when you don't want the pages to end. But you have to keep going. Stories keep the world revolving. Live yours, don't miss out. ''
hihi poly skz long fic teaser below the cut & it's a timeloop au ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა
"did you have a bad dream?" felix’s voice is soft, coming from right beside you. you feel his hand touch your back, rubbing small, soothing circles between your shoulder blades.
"i've got you," chan murmurs into your hair, his chin resting against the top of your head as he holds you steady. "it's okay. whatever it was, it wasn't real. you're right here."
minho sets the spatula down, walking over from the stove with his eyebrows pulled together. he reaches out, his thumb catching a tear on your cheek, and wipes it away. "look at you, you're shaking. did something happen before you came out here?"
"no," you choke out, your voice thick and wet as you try to pull yourself together. you look around the circle of faces—jisung is sitting up now, his sleepy expression completely gone, replaced by a wide-eyed, anxious look. seungmin and jeongin are watching you from the table, their expressions worried. "no, i just... it was just a really bad dream. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to freak you guys out."
"don't apologize for crying, kitten," minho says, though his voice is entirely soft now, the teasing edge from his earlier bickering completely gone. he bumps his shoulder against yours, the exact same gesture from your... dream, but this time it makes you let out a shaky, half-broken laugh.
"you good now?" changbin asks, leaning over the counter to look at you. "do we need to go fight the dream monster for you?"
"i think i can handle it," you say, wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt. you let go of chan’s hoodie slowly, though your fingers feel reluctant to lose the contact.
chan gives you one last squeeze before letting you step back. "alright. let's get you some food. sit down next to jisung."
you slide into the chair, the wood cool beneath you. jisung immediately scoots his chair closer, his arm pressing against yours as he looks at you with sleepy, blinking eyes. he looks so healthy, his face clear, his hair sticking up in every direction.
"did you dream about me?" he asks, trying to bring the light mood back into the room. he breaks into that familiar grin. "you look like you dreamt about me. i bet it was a good one, like—"
the words hit you like a fucking semi-truck.
it’s the script. it’s the exact same script.
the phrase burns in your throat before he can even finish the sentence. the memory is so clear, so loud in your head, that your lips move on their own, the words slipping out in a quiet, breathless whisper before he can say them.
"—where you're a famous chef and you make me breakfast in bed."
jisung stops mid-breath. his grin falters, his mouth staying slightly open as he turns his head to look at you. his eyes widen in genuine surprise, his eyebrows shooting up toward his messy hair.
"wait," jisung says, blinking at you. "how'd you know i was going to say that? i didn't even tell anyone that joke yet."
the room goes quiet for a second, the members looking between you and jisung.
you force a laugh, but it sounds high and brittle to your own ears, completely fake. you reach for the syrup bottle, your hands shaking so hard that the plastic clicks against the ceramic of your plate. "i don't know," you say, your voice trembling as you try to keep your face neutral. "just a lucky guess, i guess. we spend too much time together, hanji. i can read your mind."
"that's creepy," seungmin retorts, though he lets out a small snort, turning back to his phone.
