#...but when it's chronic... when you forget your name or you forget where you're going or you forget something important daily...

[uncanny-tranny]

To people of loved ones with poor memory:

It might be frustrating when they forget something (especially if it's important), but I can guarantee you that they are already beating themself up over having forgotten yet another thing. You don't need to rub that shame, embarrassment, and humiliation in deeper than it already is.

It is scary to forget things. It's humiliating to be told that the only reason we forget things is because we think nothing is important, that we're selfish and callous. Our brains are being pulled in every direction at the same time. It's impossible to keep track of this shit every picosecond of the day.

People like to conceptualize memory issues as a matter of lesser intelligence, that we're too stupid to even remember [minor detail]. I've noticed, though, that all of our brain power is kept toward other things - keeping ourselves alive, remembering a different thing, trying to regulate emotions or other disorders. Nobody seems to care that our workload is at least twice that of the "average" person's, I guess because they often don't directly notice it, or it doesn't directly affect them?

It's fine to be upset about the situation. You can't help that reaction, but you do not have to be cruel to people with memory issues, no matter the cause of it. Whatever they forgot might have been important to you, but there may be other things in that person's life that required their brainpower.

[cbeargyu]

only the petals remain

summary: you wake up in a hospital after a tragic accident, your body broken and your soul lonelier than ever. then you meet jaehyun—the boy with a fragile heart and the only one who can see the flower blooming on your wrist, the sacred mark said to reveal your soulmate. with each tender moment you share, a new petal appears, drawing you both closer to a love written in fate. but as the flower nears its final bloom, so does time. now, only one petal remains—and he’s no longer here to see it.

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, romance, soulmate au, hospital au, slow burn, tragedy, emotional healing, psychological drama.

warnings: character death, grief, depression, medical trauma, chronic illness, disability recovery, emotional dependency, survivor’s guilt, strong language, heavy emotional themes, vivid hospital scenes, mentions of suicide ideation (implied), terminal illness, unresolved trauma, soulmate mark (body symbolism), tragic ending.

⚠ this is not proofread so pls ignore any typos or mistakes ily <3

wc: 18,4k

notes: hi babiesss!!🩷 i was feeling like writing something about jaehyun but my brain was literally fried from doing too much lately lmaoo 😭😭 then i remembered i had this old draft on my wattpad acc, i had only written up to the part where they first meet and never finished it so it just sat there abandoned in my drafts 😭 but i was like... okay it’s time. y’all know how i get carried away with ideas and end up writing wayyyy too much 😭 and still i feel like i didn’t write enough?? like i wanted to add even more scenes 😭😭 but i really hope u enjoy it and maybe cry a little like i did while writing 🥹🫶

darkness.

it's all you know when it begins. not the kind that feels peaceful or quiet, but the kind that presses against your skin, dense and suffocating, as if the world itself has collapsed in on you. there’s no pain. not yet. only the weightless sense of floating somewhere between existence and oblivion.

then a light. faint at first—like a single star flickering at the edge of a black sky. it pulses. and with it comes a voice, not male nor female, not loud but impossibly clear, resonating inside your head like it’s always been there.

"you can’t die yet."

you want to ask why. you want to scream that you're tired, that your bones feel like they've been shattered into dust, that you don't even remember who you are anymore. but your voice doesn’t work here.

"you left something unfinished. someone waits for you. your soulmate. the one your soul is tied to... you must go back."

a soft breeze, warm like a memory, brushes your skin, and as it does, something burns—your left wrist. you look down and see it: a tiny ink mark blooming into a single flower in the center of your skin. delicate, soft red like blood. no petals. just the center. incomplete.

"this will guide you," the voice whispers. "only you can see it. every time you are near them, the flower will begin to bloom. a petal for every step closer."

and then, silence.

you wake up to screaming.

your body jolts, restrained by thick straps of pain and heavy sedation. your lungs forget how to breathe. you're surrounded by flashing lights, the cold sting of needles in your veins, the rush of white coats and beeping monitors. and amidst it all, two familiar voices—your parents—crying your name.

they’re holding your hand, sobbing uncontrollably, but the moment is ripped away as the doctors push them back, their voices drowned in a sea of urgency.

“bp rising—get more oxygen in. prepare for transfusion—”

“she’s conscious. vitals climbing—get neurology—”

you don’t understand any of it. your body aches like it's been set on fire. broken. barely whole. you try to move, but your limbs betray you.

and then everything fades to black again.

a week later

you've barely moved from your hospital bed. every inch of you is wrapped, stitched, bruised beyond recognition. machines breathe for you at night. your bones are held together by metal rods and quiet prayers. you’ve heard nothing about the crash, nothing about the others. your parents avoid your eyes. the nurses change the subject. and you're not allowed to leave the room, not even to ask.

but you know. deep down. you know.

they’re gone.

jongin. seulgi. minkyung. taemin.

gone.

their laughter still echoes in the hollow parts of your memory—the roar of the engine, the way the wind slapped against your face as you screamed into the night, drunk on champagne and invincibility. jongin’s dare. your cruel smirk. the wall. the impact.

the regret swells in your chest every time you close your eyes.

three weeks later

your body is still too weak to walk. a kind nurse, seoyun, wheels you out into the hospital garden to get fresh air. she talks as if you're old friends, spilling stories about her latest dating failures while she trims dead leaves from the bushes.

you nod politely, say nothing. you don’t care. not really. the world feels dulled, colors muted, sounds distant. you drift in and out of her words until something catches your eye—your wrist.

the flower.

still there. unchanged. no one else sees it. seoyun doesn’t even glance at it as she brushes your hand. it’s small, a red spider lily, delicate and eerie, like it's been drawn with threads of fate itself. only the core is visible. no petals. lifeless.

you stare at it for a long time.

and then—laughter.

bright, clean, almost melodic.

your head snaps toward the sound before you realize why. across the garden, near one of the marble benches, a boy sits in the sun. blonde hair, grown out and soft, glowing under the light. he’s laughing at something another patient says, hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking with the effort. an older nurse leans beside him, amused.

he doesn't notice you.

your chest tightens. not in recognition, not in love—just... intrigue. something unspoken. your fingers twitch over your lap as your eyes linger on the stranger.

you can't look away.

you tell yourself it’s nothing.

just a stranger with a pretty smile. the kind of face that lingers in the memory a little longer than it should. but you don’t think about him that night, or the next day. not really. your world still revolves around recovery, the dull ache of broken bones, the tightness in your chest every time you breathe. the nights are worse—quiet, haunted. the silence presses on your ears, makes you wish for someone to talk to, someone to scream at, someone to ask why you’re still alive when they’re not.

but then, he appears again.

not by design. not because you’re looking for him.

they’re wheeling you into radiology for your scheduled scans, your body limp in the chair, head lolling slightly to the side as you try not to vomit from the motion, and there he is—jaehyun—standing at the nurses’ station like he belongs there, laughing with one of the interns. he’s wearing hospital clothes, like you, though his are looser, cleaner, almost lived-in. he gestures animatedly with his hands, a plastic cup of apple juice in one, and his laugh rises above the quiet buzz of the hallway like a song you don’t know but somehow remember.

he doesn’t look at you.

not then.

and yet something stirs in your chest again. not a feeling, not exactly. just... that itch. like the edge of a memory. something that wants to pull you forward.

you don’t ask seoyun about him that day. you think about it. the words hover at the edge of your tongue as she helps adjust your blankets once you’re back in bed. she hums as she works, cheerful as ever, a melody of someone too used to grief to let it show. but your throat tightens before the question can form. you stay silent.

and the next day, he’s there again.

this time, in the cafeteria. you’re being pushed past the open double doors on your way to physical therapy, a session you’ve been dreading since the moment they mentioned it. your legs still feel foreign. your arms tremble even holding a spoon. but the moment you pass that room, you hear him.

his voice. lower than expected. smooth, gentle. he's reading something out loud—an article? a joke?—to one of the older patients, and there’s laughter again, warm and full and effortless. the kind of laughter that wraps around your spine and squeezes.

you can’t explain it.

it’s not a crush. not an attraction. not even curiosity, not yet.

just... something about him refuses to let you go.

it happens enough times that even seoyun notices the way your eyes drift. after one long session of breathing exercises and tendon stretching that leaves your body in sweat and tremors, she wheels you back into your room and raises an eyebrow when you glance over your shoulder for just a second too long.

“you’ve seen jaehyun again, huh?” she says it so casually, like you’re talking about the weather. her tone doesn’t tease, but there’s something behind it—fondness, maybe.

the name sits strangely on your tongue. “jaehyun?”

she hums, pushing the brake on the chair before checking the IV bag hanging at your side. “jung jaehyun. he’s been here a while. longer than most. he’s... hard to miss.”

you say nothing. you don’t have to. your silence is enough of a question.

seoyun softens, her expression shifting to something quieter. she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and lowers her voice, as if afraid the walls will hear her. “he has a condition. congenital. his heart’s smaller than it should be. underdeveloped. it’s rare. not many make it past childhood.” she sighs, her gaze distant. “but jaehyun… he keeps surprising everyone.”

you look down at your lap, at the slight tremor in your hands. your flower remains the same. one red center. no petals. dormant.

“so he lives here?” you ask, surprised by the way your voice cracks.

“pretty much. his body isn’t strong enough to leave for long. he stays between treatments, surgeries, check-ups. sometimes he goes home for a few days, but he always ends up back here.” she shrugs, as if that’s just how life is. “he makes it bearable though. the nurses love him. the other patients do too. he’s… special.”

you don’t ask what that means. you’re not sure you want to know.

but from that day on, you start seeing him more.

in the hallways, on the elevators, sitting by the window in the waiting room where the morning light touches his hair like gold. sometimes he’s reading. sometimes talking to someone. once, he’s sketching something in a notebook, pencil smudging the edge of his palm. you don’t speak. neither does he. but your eyes meet once—just briefly—and he smiles.

not like he knows you. not like he wants to.

just... politely.

your heart does something strange then. not racing. not skipping.

just... noticing.

the flower on your wrist doesn’t bloom. not yet. but that center glows warmer under the sun, like it’s waking up.

and you begin to wonder.

not just about him.

but about what it means to have a second chance. about why you’re still breathing, even when everything hurts. about whether the universe really gave you another shot to find something—someone—that could make you feel alive again.

because if that’s true… maybe you already know where to start looking.

the sun is warm that morning. too warm for autumn, really. it spills over the garden like melted honey, soaking into your skin as seoyun wheels you along the gravel path, humming under her breath like always. she talks about the morning shift—short-staffed, as usual—and how one of the doctors mixed up two prescriptions yesterday but caught it just in time.

you’re only half listening.

your eyes scan the garden lazily, not looking for him exactly, but half-hoping, half-dreading you might see him again. and you do—jaehyun—sitting beneath the sycamore tree in the far corner, a sketchbook balanced on his lap, pencil in hand, head bent in concentration. his blond hair glows pale in the sunlight, loose strands catching on the breeze, and he looks so calm, so untouchable, you almost tell seoyun to turn you around.

but then she stops suddenly.

“shit,” she mutters, glancing at her phone. “i need to run to the reception—paperwork emergency. can you wait here for a few minutes?”

before you can answer, she turns toward jaehyun, waving. “hey, jaehyun! could you sit with her for a bit? i won’t be long.”

you freeze.

he looks up. his eyes meet yours. warm, honey brown. his face is unreadable at first, then softens into something polite.

“sure,” he says, closing his sketchbook gently. “no problem.”

your stomach knots. you want to protest. say no, say i’m fine, say i don’t need a babysitter. but by the time you open your mouth, he’s already beside you, dropping gracefully into the chair next to yours like he’s done this a hundred times.

“hi,” he says simply, voice low, smooth, like velvet over steel. “i’ve heard about you.”

you arch a brow. “not sure if that’s comforting.”

his lips twitch in the ghost of a smile. “the girl from the accident, right? seoyun and the nurses talk about you sometimes. they were really worried.”

you look away, the mention of it scraping something raw inside your chest. “figures.”

he doesn’t press. doesn’t pry. just sits there, watching the light filter through the branches above. the silence stretches between you, not heavy, just unfamiliar.

you glance sideways at him.

his features are sharp but softened by the gentle curve of his mouth, the kindness in his eyes. there’s something steady about him, grounded. like he’s used to sitting beside people who’ve lost things.

“you live here or something?” you ask, not bothering to hide the edge in your voice.

he chuckles, not offended. “pretty much. i’ve got a suite on the fifth floor. ocean view and everything.”

you snort before you can stop yourself. “must be nice.”

he shrugs. “could do without the needles, though.”

you glance down at your wrist, instinctive now. the flower stares back at you—still small, still centered—and for a moment, you wonder what he would say if he could see it too. if he could feel the way your skin just prickled beneath the scarred edge of your cast. the burn is sudden, like a flicker of heat just beneath the surface, and then—

a petal blooms.

right there, delicate and perfect, curling outward from the center. red as blood.

your breath catches.

“are you okay?” jaehyun’s voice is gentle, curious.

you curl your hand into a fist, hide the wrist against your thigh, heart thudding loud enough to drown out the birds in the trees. “fine,” you lie.

he watches you for a moment longer, like he knows you're hiding something. but again—he doesn’t push.

instead, he leans back in the chair, tilting his face toward the sun. “you don’t talk much,” he says after a while.

“neither do you.”

he laughs quietly. “fair enough.”

more silence. it should be uncomfortable, but it isn’t. not really. the tension in your shoulders slowly uncoils, like you’ve been holding your breath for weeks and only just now remembered how to exhale.

“so what’s your deal?” you ask finally. “you’re always... around. talking to people. laughing like you’re not in a hospital.”

his lips press together, amused. “i figure if i’m stuck here, might as well make it bearable. besides,” he glances at you, eyes glinting with quiet mischief, “i like people.”

“must be nice.”

he studies you for a second. “you don’t?”

you shrug, gaze flicking out over the flowers blooming beside the bench. “i used to. or maybe i just used people. kind of hard to tell the difference when you grow up getting everything handed to you.”

his voice softens. “money?”

“money. attention. friends with too many secrets and not enough shame.” you clench your jaw. “it didn’t matter how many parties i threw or how expensive my clothes were. i was just... bored. all the time. like something was missing and i couldn’t figure out what.”

he doesn’t judge. doesn’t even blink.

just nods, thoughtful.

“maybe something was.”

you look at him. “you believe in that stuff?”

his head tilts slightly. “you don’t?”

“i’m not sure i believe in anything.”

he smiles again, but this one’s different—smaller, quieter. sad.

“sometimes,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “the universe gives you signs. tiny ones. you just have to be paying attention.”

you think about the flower.

about the warmth still pulsing in your wrist like a heartbeat.

about how his presence doesn’t feel like a coincidence.

“what if you miss the sign?” you ask.

jaehyun’s gaze doesn’t leave yours.

“then i think,” he says slowly, “it finds another way to reach you.”

seoyun returns a minute later, flustered and apologetic, thanking jaehyun as he stands. he brushes off the gratitude with a gentle smile and a quick nod to you.

“see you around,” he says.

and for the first time in weeks, you hear yourself say it back.

“yeah. see you.”

he finds you again a few days later, sketchbook in hand, the sun already slipping into its golden descent over the garden. you’re sitting near the fountain this time, legs covered in a thin hospital blanket, watching koi fish ripple through the still water. you don’t notice him until his shadow spills over yours, soft and hesitant.

“hey,” he says, voice calm as always. “mind if i join you?”

you nod, almost before you realize it.

he sits close but not too close, resting the sketchbook on his knees, fingers absently playing with the elastic band around it. for a while, neither of you says anything. the breeze rustles the leaves, the fountain babbles on. then he speaks, eyes still on the pond.

“you said you don’t believe in anything,” he murmurs, like picking up a thread you forgot you left behind. “but you looked at that flower on your wrist like it meant something.”

your breath catches, but you don’t answer.

instead, you glance down at the mark. the red petal still curves around the center like a whisper of fate. it hasn't changed since that day, but it feels alive. pulsing. waiting.

he shifts beside you, the sketchbook now open on his lap. you watch as he flips through pages carefully, one after another, until he lands on one near the middle.

he turns it toward you.

“i wanted to show you these.”

your breath stutters.

each page is a world—soft pencil strokes bringing landscapes to life, delicate portraits of nurses, elderly patients, even seoyun caught mid-laughter beneath the pergola. the emotion he captures is almost impossible. you see not just faces and places, but moments—tiny slivers of something real that feel more tangible than your own memories.

“you drew all of these?”

“yeah,” he says, sheepish. “it keeps me sane.”

you don’t speak for a long time, your eyes traveling over every line, every smudge of graphite. you don’t want to look away. your fingers hover near the page, almost afraid to touch.

“they’re beautiful,” you whisper. “you’re... talented doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

he smiles softly. “thanks.”

when you finally meet his eyes, you see it there again—that quiet transparency in him, the unflinching way he sees the world and somehow still manages to draw light from it.

you want to ask how he does it. how he keeps from drowning.

but you’re not ready yet.

that night, back in your hospital room, everything shatters.

your parents are sitting at your bedside. your mother’s fingers are laced together so tightly her knuckles have turned white. your father stares at the floor, jaw clenched.

you feel it before they say anything.

“sweetheart,” your mother starts, her voice cracking at the edges, “we didn’t want to overwhelm you before, but... it’s time.”

your body tenses.

you know what’s coming.

“jongin... seulgi... minkyung... taemin...” she swallows. “none of them made it. jongin and seulgi died at the crash. minkyung passed in the ambulance. taemin... he held on a bit longer, but...”

the rest is a blur.

a rush of static through your ears, like the world folded in on itself.

you don’t remember crying. just the way your chest collapsed. like a building gutted from the inside.

your father wraps his arms around you when your sobs finally come. your mother presses kisses to your hair like she used to when you were a child, whispering things that don’t reach you. none of it helps.

nothing will.

the next morning, a psychiatrist is assigned to you. dr. nam. soft-spoken, patient. she says the trauma is complex, that grief moves in waves, that healing won’t be linear. she’s not wrong, but you don’t believe her yet.

you stop asking seoyun to wheel you out into the garden. when she offers, you shake your head. “not today,” you say, every time.

the sunlight feels too bright.

the air, too sharp.

even breathing hurts.

but then—

one quiet afternoon, there’s a knock at your door. not seoyun. not your parents.

jaehyun steps inside, sketchbook in hand.

he doesn’t say anything at first. just walks over and sits in the chair beside your bed. you notice his hands are trembling a little, like this matters to him more than he wants you to know.

he opens the sketchbook slowly and turns it around.

you freeze.

it’s you.

you, sitting in your wheelchair beneath the sycamore tree, head tilted toward the sky, blanket draped over your legs, the sunlight caught in your hair. the expression on your face is calm, distant, unknowable. and somehow—he captured the heaviness in your shoulders, the guarded way you hold your hands, the flicker of sadness in your eyes.

you reach for it without thinking, fingertips ghosting over the paper like it might dissolve.

“you drew this?” you ask, barely breathing.

he nods once.

“why?”

he shrugs, gaze fixed on you now, open and bare.

“you looked like someone who needed to see herself from the outside.”

your throat tightens. your eyes sting.

you look back down at the drawing, tracing the lines of your own face like they belong to someone else. something in your chest shifts, aches. no one has ever seen you like this. not even you.

when you look back at him, tears blur your vision.

“it’s beautiful,” you whisper. “i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything.”

but you want to.

you want to say thank you. you want to say how did you know? you want to say please don’t leave yet.

and maybe—deep down—you want to say stay with me.

he smiles then, warm and quiet, and something in your soul stirs again.

the flower on your wrist doesn’t burn this time.

but it pulses, faint and certain, as if it's reminding you—

you’re not alone anymore.

the silence between you stretches, and then breaks—quietly, painfully—into the sound of your own sobbing.

you clutch the drawing to your chest, fingers trembling over the soft paper edges, as if it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. your body curls slightly over the sketch, like you could shield it—or maybe, like it could shield you.

you don’t fight the tears. they come too fast, too hard. hot streaks down your cheeks, choking sobs that rattle your healing ribs. the weight of everything—your loss, your guilt, the ache in your bones, the terrifying pull of fate burning into your skin—crashes into you all at once.

your left wrist burns. you don’t need to look. you know.

the flower has grown.

but you pretend it hasn’t. pretend it’s just the drawing that’s breaking you like this.

jaehyun doesn’t say anything. he watches you with wide, soft eyes that seem to see everything and judge nothing. then, slowly, he stands from the chair and crosses the small space between you. he moves gently, like approaching a frightened animal, like one wrong step might send you spiraling further.

he sits on the edge of the bed beside you, leaving enough space that you can still breathe. his hand reaches out—hesitating for a second—and then rests on your head. his fingers move through your hair with an impossible tenderness, like he’s afraid of hurting you more than you already are.

“it’s okay,” he whispers. “you’re okay.”

his voice is warm honey, settling deep in your chest.

his hand slides down, brushing your temple, and then cups your cheek. his thumb catches a tear and wipes it away.

you shiver at the touch.

not because it’s cold.

because it feels like home.

no one’s touched you like this since the crash.

no one’s held you like this without needing something in return.

you blink up at him, still crying, and his expression doesn’t waver. calm. steady. like he’s telling you through that look that you don’t have to hide anymore. not from him.

you don’t say a word.

but in that moment, you let yourself fall just a little into him.

not all the way. not yet.

but enough.

the days stretch.

therapy begins, slowly, painfully. your body is stiff, unfamiliar. walking is like learning from scratch—muscles weak, balance fragile. you hate the mirror now. you hate the bruises, the scars, the way your reflection no longer feels like your own.

but seoyun is there. jaehyun is there. dr. nam too, reminding you gently that you don’t have to climb the mountain in a day.

sometimes, when they wheel you into the physical therapy room, you catch glimpses of jaehyun in the hallway, talking to the nurses, carrying that same sketchbook under his arm. he always smiles when he sees you. not pitying. not forced.

real.

when you return to your room, you sometimes find little sketches tucked under your water bottle, or between the pages of a book seoyun brought for you. tiny gifts—your hands resting on your lap, the view from your window, the curve of your smile when you weren’t paying attention.

he draws you in moments you didn’t even notice you were alive.

and that changes something.

one morning, after a particularly exhausting session, you sit on the edge of your hospital bed, sweat clinging to your back, heart heavy. seoyun opens the door and steps aside.

“you have a visitor,” she says.

it’s him.

jaehyun.

sketchbook in one hand. a thermos in the other.

he walks in like he’s always belonged there.

“thought you could use something warm,” he says, lifting the thermos. “it’s barley tea. not coffee, but... it helps.”

you take it, brushing his fingers by accident. he lingers a moment before pulling back.

you sip, and the warmth sinks into you deeper than expected.

“thank you,” you murmur.

he nods.

and doesn’t leave.

you don’t know how long he stays, but it feels like the rest of the world stops moving outside your room. jaehyun doesn’t talk much—he simply sits with you. the warmth of his hand lingers long after he takes it back. his eyes don’t stray. he watches you like he’s trying to memorize your sadness, like it matters. like you matter.

the burn is softer now. dull. like an ember instead of a flame. when you finally look, another petal has bloomed—just one more—but it curls with delicate precision from the center, so subtle and beautiful it hurts. you touch it gently, as if it might vanish.

jaehyun notices.

your heart stutters.

“that’s new,” he says quietly, and your blood runs cold. “the flower. it wasn’t like that before, was it?”

you look up at him sharply. he saw it. the mark on your skin that’s supposed to be invisible to everyone but you.

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. questions. fear. truth. all of it tangled on your tongue. you want to ask how. why. what does it mean that he can see it?

but instead, you look down again, and you lie.

“…it’s a tattoo.”

he tilts his head, curious, but doesn’t push. he smiles faintly. “it’s beautiful.”

you nod. slowly. trying to hide how your fingers are shaking.

he saw it.

he saw it.

your fate is no longer a shadow. it has a face. a voice. a heart that’s still beating despite everything.

and it’s too soon to say it out loud.

so you don’t.

you just breathe him in.

a few days pass.

you get stronger. your hands don’t shake as much when you hold the railing during therapy. your legs stop trembling after a few steps. your voice stops cracking when you speak. and jaehyun… he’s always there.

it’s a cloudy afternoon when he appears at your door, bright-eyed, holding a folded blanket in one hand and a mischievous grin on his face.

“you’re coming with me today,” he says.

you arch a brow. “to where?”

“cafeteria,” he declares. “you’ve been eating that sad porridge for too long. and i found out today’s curry rice. i’m not letting you miss that.”

you smirk, feigning indifference, but your heart tugs toward him before you even realize it.

he wheels you out, careful but confident, his hands warm on the grips of the chair. there’s something reassuring in the way he moves—not just physically, but emotionally, too. he leads without pressure. offers comfort without demanding it. and when you pass the nurses’ station, they all wave and tease him like he’s part of the staff.

you reach the cafeteria just before the rush. he finds a table near the window and parks your chair beside it. he leaves briefly to grab two trays—curry rice, fruit, soup, even a tiny strawberry milk carton.

“you have to try this,” he says, sliding the milk toward you. “they say it’s for kids, but it tastes like nostalgia.”

you laugh, the sound foreign in your own mouth. it feels good.

the food is warm. heavy. the kind of meal that sticks to your soul. you eat slowly, watching him as he dips his spoon into the curry, his gaze distant for a moment.

“you know,” he starts, “i’ve never eaten in a real school cafeteria before.”

you blink. “never?”

he shrugs. “i didn’t go to school like normal kids. i was homeschooled. mostly because of my heart.”

you pause, setting your spoon down. “…what do you mean?”

his eyes flick to you. there’s no bitterness, only quiet honesty. “i was born with a condition. my heart’s smaller than it should be. weaker. not enough oxygen, not enough blood flow. doctors said i might not make it past ten.” he chuckles softly, like he’s told the story too many times. “surprise.”

your chest tightens. “jaehyun…”

he waves it off gently. “it’s okay. it’s my normal. but… yeah. my dad couldn’t handle it. moved to the u.s. when i was nine. said it was for work. he hasn’t called in years.” he shrugs again. “my mom’s the one who stayed. took care of everything. she’s… amazing.”

you don’t speak at first. there’s nothing you can say to fix that kind of hurt.

he smiles at you. “i always wanted to go to college. make friends. stay up late and complain about exams. stupid things, you know?” his laugh is soft. “but my body doesn’t really… cooperate.”

you stare at him, this boy made of ink and softness, and for the first time in weeks, you see someone who understands broken dreams.

“…i was in college,” you murmur. “before the crash.”

he looks up, interested.

you continue, your voice distant. “my parents own the han group. real estate empire. they gave me everything. cars, credit cards, connections. i never had to work for anything. just… floated through life. partied. skipped class. bought my way out of trouble.”

you glance down. “i thought i was untouchable.”

the silence thickens between you.

“were you happy?” jaehyun asks.

you don’t answer right away. “i don’t think i even knew what that meant.”

he nods, slowly, and your eyes meet.

his are steady. unjudging.

“but you survived,” he says softly. “and maybe… that means something.”

you nod, your throat tight. the wordless acknowledgment of a second chance neither of you asked for, but both seem to be finding in each other.

he smiles.

and for the first time since the night everything fell apart, you smile back—not out of habit, not to hide.

but because he’s there.

and somehow, that’s enough.

you notice it the first time by accident. the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath the shade of the old tree in the garden, head tilted slightly back against the bark, sketchbook resting gently against his thigh, pencil still in hand. his eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, and the late afternoon light spills through the leaves above him like a broken halo. you stop in your tracks, stunned by how peaceful he looks, almost untouchable. fragile, in a way that makes your chest ache. not because he’s sick, but because he looks like a moment that could disappear if you blink too long.

you sit there for a while in silence, pretending to read a book seoyun lent you, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. something stirs in you—a pull, a question, a longing to reach out and brush your fingers over the soft brown strands of his hair just to prove he’s real. you don't. but the ache lingers in your fingertips.

the next time you’re in the garden, it's warmer, sunnier. a group of nurses walks by, chatting loudly. one of them—a new girl with pretty eyes and laughter that rings too sweet—leans down to jaehyun as he sketches something quietly beside you. she touches his shoulder, too familiar, and compliments his drawing. he laughs, easy and kind, and you feel something sharp twist in your stomach.

you don't speak, but your silence is louder than anything.

he notices. seoyun too.

when she walks away, seoyun turns to you, amused. “jealous?”

you scoff. “please.”

she grins, not pushing it, but the blush on your face betrays you anyway.

a few days pass before the next real moment. the sky is overcast, and there’s a bite to the wind even through the hospital windows. he wheels you back from your physical therapy session, a towel around your neck, your limbs heavy and sore but looser than before. progress. he says it like a celebration.

you end up in your room, seated by the window. he sits at the foot of your bed again, flipping through his sketchbook for no reason, and you watch him quietly until the words start to rise in your throat—uncomfortable, unwanted, but necessary.

“my friends died.”

he stops turning the pages, eyes slowly meeting yours.

“jongin. seulgi. minkyung. taemin. we were all in the car. they… they didn’t make it.”

his expression doesn’t change much, but something shifts behind his gaze. stillness. gravity.

“i kind of always knew,” you continue, voice raw, “but hearing it out loud from my parents just—i don’t know. it destroyed me.”

he doesn’t say anything yet, just lets you speak, which somehow makes it easier to go on.

“they weren’t… good people. not really. and neither was i. we were selfish. careless. rich kids playing with fire. we drank too much, laughed too loud, did everything we weren’t supposed to. it wasn’t just one bad night. we were always like that.”

your eyes sting, and you press your knuckles into them, biting back the sob that crawls up your throat.

“but they were my friends. and now they’re gone. and i lived.”

you whisper that last part like a confession, like it’s a crime.

jaehyun finally speaks. his voice is quiet, steady.

“sometimes… the universe chooses who gets to keep going. and it doesn’t always make sense. but maybe there’s a reason you survived.”

you glance at him, blinking through the tears. “a reason?”

he nods, folding his hands over his lap. “my mom used to tell me that souls don’t end. that when we die, we go somewhere else. not up or down, just… somewhere. and sometimes, if the bond is strong enough, we find each other again.”

your breath hitches.

he continues. “maybe your friends are somewhere better. maybe they’re waiting for you to live a different life. a better one.”

you look at him, and he looks back at you like he sees something in you—not just the guilt, but the hope, too.

“it’s hard to imagine a better life when everything hurts,” you admit.

he nods. “i know.”

“but you still smile,” you say softly. “you still draw. laugh. joke with the nurses. how do you do it?”

he exhales. “i wake up. i breathe. i try to find beauty in the small things. and some days…” he glances at you, the corners of his mouth tilting upward. “some days are easier now.”

your heart thuds once in your chest, heavy and warm. his words settle over your skin like a soft blanket.

you reach for the sketchbook he abandoned, flipping through the pages until you find one of a riverbank at sunset, the water curling like molten gold, two silhouettes standing at the edge.

you touch it, then glance at him. “do you think… do you think they’re watching?”

he shrugs, but his eyes are gentle. “i think if they are, they’d want you to keep going.”

your voice trembles. “i don’t know how.”

he leans in a little, not close enough to touch, but near enough to feel. “maybe i can help.”

the silence that follows is full—not empty. his presence feels like gravity, and for the first time in your life, you want to stay grounded.

you nod. “okay.”

and just like that, something shifts again—not loudly, not suddenly. but deeply.

as if another petal has begun to bloom, unseen.

the idea is his, of course. it always is.

you're in the garden again, the sun already dipping below the edge of the building, casting the sky in strokes of rose and lavender. you were just finishing another therapy session when jaehyun appeared with something hidden under a blanket draped across his lap and a suspicious twinkle in his eyes.

“i hope you’re not allergic to strawberries,” he says, wheeling you toward the base of the old tree you’ve unofficially claimed as yours. “because i may or may not have bribed a nurse for some tonight.”

he spreads the blanket with a flourish, revealing two neatly packed hospital meal trays, a plastic container of strawberries, and a small thermos.

“tea,” he adds with a sheepish grin. “technically, it’s not allowed this late, but…”

you laugh softly, warmth curling in your stomach. “you’re going to get us both kicked out.”

“worth it,” he says, shrugging. “you deserve something normal.”

so you sit under the tree together, knees almost touching, your trays in your laps as you eat. the food is nothing special—bland rice, lukewarm soup—but everything tastes better when you're with him. he picks out the best strawberries for you, pointing out the heart-shaped ones and acting offended when you call him cheesy. you tell him he’s hopeless. he calls you dramatic. the laughter between you is quiet, but real. it settles into your chest like something you never knew you needed.

afterward, you both lean back against the tree, his sketchbook balanced on his knees. he’s drawn the garden at night before, he tells you—once when he couldn’t sleep and the moon was full. he flips to the page and shows you: soft shadows, the leaves whispering in the breeze, the hospital windows lit up behind the trees like stars that never go out.

you trace the lines with your eyes, fingers twitching against your lap.

“you’re not just good,” you murmur. “you’re… incredible.”

he looks at you, just for a moment, and something in his gaze softens.

“so are you.”

your breath catches. you don’t say anything.

later, when it’s time to return inside, he walks you slowly back, the silence between you no longer awkward—just peaceful. when you reach your room, he lingers at the door.

“i need to tell you something,” he says.

you tilt your head. “what is it?”

“my checkup came back really good this time. better than anyone expected. the doctors want me to rest at home for a while.”

you blink. the words don’t register at first.

“you’re… leaving?”

he nods. “just for a bit. i’ll still come to the hospital for follow-ups. i’ll visit you. i promise.”

your stomach sinks. suddenly, the thought of not seeing him every day feels unbearable. he’s become a constant, the steady rhythm in the chaos of your new reality.

he must see it in your face because he smiles gently and reaches out, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“you’ll be okay,” he says.

you nod, but you’re not sure you believe it.

the next morning, his mother comes to collect him. you meet her in the hallway outside your room. she’s elegant, composed, with soft features and tired eyes that hide their sorrow beneath expertly applied makeup. when she sees you, her smile is warm but distant.

“you must be the girl jaehyun won’t stop talking about,” she says kindly.

your cheeks flush. “i didn’t know he talked about me.”

“he doesn’t talk much about himself,” she replies, glancing at her son as he signs discharge papers. “but with you… he’s different.”

you don’t know what to say to that.

before he leaves, jaehyun gives you a folded piece of paper—another drawing. this one is of the two of you beneath the tree, laughing, your hair whipping in the breeze.

you don’t open it until you’re alone.

when you do, your heart nearly cracks.

and then, as if on cue, your wrist begins to burn—low and sharp, like a blooming spark beneath your skin. you look down slowly.

another petal.

the fifth.

you touch it with trembling fingers, watching the outline settle beside the others, the once-empty flower slowly filling. it's more than halfway now. what would happen when it completes? would everything become clear, or would it only hurt more?

you don’t know.

but you know one thing for sure: he saw it.

he always saw it.

and somehow, you think… he knows.

the first few days after jaehyun leaves are the hardest. not because anything dramatic happens, not because something has changed visibly in your world, but because of the absence—quiet, cold, and ever-present, settling over your hospital room like a forgotten blanket. there's no knock at the door just past lunch, no soft voice teasing you about the terrible food or the sharp scent of pencil shavings clinging to the sketchbook he always carried. you find yourself staring at the clock without meaning to, tracing over the familiar grooves of his name in your memory, listening for a laugh that doesn’t come.

you hold the drawing he left you too tightly. the paper has started to curl at the edges, a sign of how many times your fingers have clutched it in search of something tangible, something real. you haven’t put it away. you can’t. it's tucked between the folds of your blanket or perched on the tray beside your bed, always within reach, like a talisman against the growing ache of missing him. when you look at it, you remember the exact moment it was drawn—the way his eyes flicked between you and the page, the way the corners of his mouth turned upward with each new stroke. you wonder what he sees when he draws you. if it's anything close to how you feel when you look at him.

the flower on your wrist remains unchanged for days. five petals. just five. they sit there in delicate permanence, a reminder of how far you've come... and how far there is still to go. you find yourself watching the mark when you're alone, as if willing it to bloom might somehow bring him back. but it doesn't. and you don't know if it ever will.

the therapists try to keep your days structured. physical rehab in the morning, psychiatric sessions in the afternoon. the latter are the hardest. you speak little at first. you hate crying in front of strangers, but it keeps happening. when the psychiatrist asks about your friends, your chest tightens until the words can’t leave your throat. when she gently encourages you to talk about the accident, all you can do is close your eyes and press your nails into your palms, hoping the sting is enough to keep the memories at bay. it doesn’t work.

you think about seulgi’s laugh. about how minkyung used to braid your hair while you slept on long drives. about taemin’s ridiculous playlist choices, and how jongin always knew the best shortcuts through the city. they are shadows now. fragments. ghosts in your chest that never leave.

jaehyun calls once, a few days after his discharge. seoyun hands you the phone with a grin too wide for her face and whispers, “someone’s asking for you.” your heart stumbles over itself.

“hey,” his voice says through the receiver, soft and warm, like honey seeping into tea.

“hi,” you breathe, the word small and sharp.

there’s a pause. not awkward, just... full.

“i miss the garden,” he says finally. “miss our tree.”

“it misses you too,” you reply, and you think it might be true.

he tells you his mother made kimchi stew, that he helped her with the radishes and cut his finger in the process. he makes it sound dramatic, but you know him well enough now to hear the grin behind the complaint. you ask about his health, and he assures you he’s fine—more than fine, even. his voice dips a little, like he wants to say something more, but he stops himself. you do too.

the next time he visits, it’s unannounced. you’re in the middle of flipping through an old magazine, too distracted to care about the outdated fashion trends, when the door clicks open and he’s just... there. standing in the doorway, sunlight spilling around him like some sort of divine joke. you blink, sure you’re imagining him, but he smiles and steps in.

“thought you might be bored without me.”

you don’t realize you’re crying until he’s beside you, his thumb brushing away the tears like he’s done it a thousand times before.

he stays for hours. he sketches while you read aloud from the book you’d been pretending to care about, and the sound of your voice mixes with the soft scratch of pencil on paper. he doesn't show you the drawing this time. just folds it into his bag when you're done, like it’s something secret, something sacred.

another petal appears that night. the sixth. you trace it in the darkness, heart hammering.

one afternoon, the weather warms and seoyun wheels you to the cafeteria for lunch, but something feels different—lighter. the sun is out. the garden is green again. and when you look across the courtyard, jaehyun is there, holding a tray in one hand and pointing to an empty table with the other. “thought i’d steal you for lunch,” he calls.

he insists on pushing your chair, ignoring your protests, navigating the path with ease like he’s memorized every bump and crack. when you settle into the table, trays between you, he offers you a smile that makes your chest flutter.

he had just said something about the dreams he still holds close. not about school this time—he'd already spoken about that. this time, it’s about music.

"i always wanted to learn to play piano," he says, a hint of longing in his smile, eyes cast toward the distance like he’s tracing the path of some long-lost melody only he can hear. "not for anyone else. just for me. i used to watch performances online, lying in bed during those longer stays here... sometimes i imagined myself on stage, not performing, but simply... feeling the keys beneath my fingers."

you listen closely, soaking in his words. this boy who speaks with a quiet bravery, who makes soft confessions like secrets pressed between the pages of a diary. you find yourself watching his face more than the view behind him. there’s something in the way his eyes carry a sadness too heavy for his age, but he still finds beauty in small dreams. you don’t interrupt. you can’t.

he looks back at you, and for a heartbeat, the world stills.

"thank you," he says. you blink.

"for what?"

"for making me feel a little more normal. for not treating me like i’m going to disappear. even if you think you are a bit too spoiled sometimes." a teasing smirk breaks through his gentleness.

you let out a huff, nudging his leg with your foot. "i’m not spoiled. i’m just... accustomed to comfort."

"exactly," he laughs. and it’s unfair, how that sound makes your chest feel lighter and heavier all at once. you could sit here forever. but reality has a way of reminding you that forever is not something promised.

there’s a moment, right after, when he checks the time on the corner wall clock. his face changes subtly—only slightly. you notice.

"i have to go," he says gently, the words a weight pressed between you both. "my mom’s waiting. she says i shouldn’t overdo it, especially now that i’m doing better."

you don’t respond right away. you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

he stands, folding the sketchbook in his arms. then his eyes linger on you. for a second, it feels like he wants to say something more. you do too. but nothing comes out.

"you’ll come back?" your voice is quiet, fragile in a way you hate.

he smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that tries to be strong for both of you. "i promised, didn’t i? besides, someone has to keep you in check."

he leaves with that. and as the door closes, you realize how cold the room suddenly feels.

two weeks stretch like slow waves crashing gently on the shore. in his absence, your world softens into routine. your legs begin to respond better, the nerves slowly remembering movement, as if waking from a long and painful sleep. you begin therapy sessions with more intensity, though you still dread them. muscles cry in resistance, and every step with the crutches feels like dragging your past behind you.

some days, you use the crutches, stubborn and determined. other days, you sit in your wheelchair and sigh dramatically when seoyun comes to wheel you around, making her laugh.

"you’re just lazy," she says, half-chuckling, adjusting the scarf around your neck.

"i’m injured," you counter, pouting, batting your lashes as if that could explain away your unwillingness to walk.

"you’re a brat. a cute one, but still a brat."

you roll your eyes, but inside, the warmth of her teasing eases the bitterness of healing. she treats you like a person, not a patient. still, there are days when you break in private. when you cry after failed attempts to stand too long. when you curse your past self for the recklessness that led you here. on those days, the sketch jaehyun gave you remains on your bedside table, the penciled image of you beneath the large garden tree, peaceful and whole. you reach for it more than you’d admit, tracing the lines like a prayer.

you notice the flower on your wrist again. it has five petals now.

not even half.

what happens when it’s full?

what happens if it never finishes blooming?

what if he never comes back?

but even in your doubts, a quiet ember burns. because you know the truth now, even if you haven’t spoken it aloud.

he is the one you were meant to find.

days blurred together in muted hues of beige and soft grays, the hospital walls becoming your second skin, the scent of antiseptic laced with blooming jasmine from the garden etched into your senses. mornings were quieter now, the chatter of nurses distant as you sat by the window, legs wrapped in a thin blanket, hands resting atop the worn cover of a poetry book you hadn’t opened in days. your recovery was painfully slow, each day a war between your will and your fragile body. the physiotherapy sessions had begun, awkward and frustrating, with trembling knees and unsteady steps supported by the sterile clink of cold metal crutches. sometimes, they felt heavier than your own bones. sometimes, they felt like failure.

seoyun was endlessly patient. she joked about your dramatic sighs, your stubborn pouts, calling you “little madam” as she guided you through corridors or wheeled you into the garden when you simply refused to walk. you pretended to be annoyed, but the truth was, her kindness made the weight a little easier to bear. still, there were moments you broke. the frustration built like a storm, and when your knees buckled again and again during one of your morning trials, the tears came unbidden. you sat on the tiled floor, fists clenched and voice trembling as you muttered, “maybe i’ll never walk again. maybe i’m broken forever.”

you didn’t notice seoyun step back to make a quick call, didn’t hear her whispering softly by the doorway. your breath was uneven, chest tight, when soft footsteps approached.

“y/n,” a familiar voice said, low and careful.

you didn’t lift your head at first, not until his shadow knelt beside you.

“jaehyun,” you murmured, breath catching.

his eyes searched your face, his brows drawing together with quiet worry. “seoyun told me you had a rough morning.”

you swallowed hard, blinking fast as your voice came out brittle. “i’m tired. of trying and failing. of hoping.”

he sat beside you, not minding the sterile hospital floor, knees drawn up as he leaned forward slightly. “hope isn’t weakness,” he said after a moment. “it’s the bravest thing you can do, especially when everything hurts.”

you glanced at him, the vulnerability in your chest rising like a tide. he looked at you the way no one ever had before—like your pain wasn’t something shameful. like it mattered.

“you always say things like that,” you said quietly. “things that make me feel like… i’m not lost.”

he smiled, soft and sad. “maybe it’s because i’ve felt that way too. and it’s easier to believe for someone else.”

there was a beat of silence.

“you came back,” you said, not a question, just a truth you were still holding on to.

he nodded. “i told you i would.”

“but… why?” your voice cracked slightly. “why do you keep coming back?”

jaehyun exhaled, gaze dropping to his fingers curled together. when he looked up again, there was something raw and unguarded in his expression.

“because i can’t stay away,” he said, voice low. “because every time i leave, i end up thinking about you. wondering if you’ve smiled that day, if you’re okay. i come back because… you matter to me, more than i ever thought someone could.”

your breath hitched. your heart trembled inside your chest, and that burning sensation—familiar and searing—climbed up your left arm. you didn’t need to look. you knew. another petal. six now.

your eyes glistened, lips parting as if to speak, but words tangled in your throat.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, nervousness flickering in his voice. “i just… i needed you to know. even if it’s messy. even if it’s too soon.”

you reached out slowly, your fingers brushing his, and your hand stayed there, resting against his knuckles. “i don’t know what this is yet,” you whispered. “but when you’re not here, it’s like something’s missing. i think about you, too. more than i should.”

his smile was quiet, full of unsaid things.

you leaned your head against his shoulder, both of you sitting on that cold hospital floor as if it were the safest place in the world. no one disturbed you. the moment stretched, breathing on its own, warm and fragile.

after some time, he gently helped you up, wrapping an arm around your waist as you steadied yourself on your crutches. he didn’t rush you. he didn’t speak. he just walked beside you, step by slow step, like he was learning your pace and choosing to match it.

and somehow, that made everything feel a little less impossible.

the days that followed brought a mixture of progress and discomfort. your legs had started to regain more strength, slowly but surely. you were now learning how to move with crutches, though they still felt like a betrayal of your independence. some mornings you pushed through with determined stubbornness, managing to walk short distances, while others you gave up halfway, throwing yourself into the wheelchair with an annoyed huff, your pride dented but intact. seoyun would only chuckle at your dramatic outbursts, calling you her “spoiled little princess,” gently scolding you as she handed you snacks or pushed you down the hallway like a child refusing to walk. the truth was, your frustration ran deeper than just physical weakness — it was a constant war between the life you used to have and the one you were learning to accept.

one afternoon, your parents mentioned that a few of your university classmates were coming to visit. you didn’t want to see them — you weren’t ready. but they were already on their way, and it felt wrong to refuse. so you sat there, stiff and uncomfortable in your hospital bed, as familiar faces entered your room. they smiled politely, voices gentle, eyes filled with pity they tried to disguise. their words were kind, their concern clearly rehearsed. you nodded along, offering vague answers, not wanting to seem cold. but inside, you felt nothing. not joy, not connection — only a strange emptiness. when they left, you exhaled so deeply it felt like the air had been stuck in your lungs for hours.

not long after, jaehyun showed up.

he had a routine checkup that day and stopped by your room as soon as he finished. the moment you saw him, something inside you softened — like finally breathing after holding your breath for too long.

“heard you had visitors,” he said, pulling a chair close to your bed.

you nodded, eyes on your lap. “some classmates. it was... weird.”

“weird how?”

you shrugged. “forced. fake. i don’t know. they were smiling too much.”

he didn’t laugh. didn’t judge. instead, he tilted his head, watching you with that calm gaze of his — the one that always made your walls tremble. “maybe they just didn’t know how to act. maybe they were really glad you’re alive, even if they didn’t know how to show it.”

you looked at him then, eyes narrowed. “you always give people the benefit of the doubt.”

“you never do,” he countered gently, a small smile tugging at his lips.

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i don’t like feeling pitied.”

“and i don’t think that’s what they meant to do.” his voice was soft, his words like warm water slowly soaking into dry soil. “not everyone knows how to deal with trauma — even when it’s not their own.”

you didn’t answer, but he could see you thinking about it. you wanted to believe him. maybe not for their sake, but for yours. maybe believing in something softer would hurt less than all that bitterness pressing against your ribs.

he leaned back in the chair, arms stretching behind his head. “you looked like a grumpy kitten just now.”

“i did not.”

“you so did.”

you glared at him, cheeks puffed with indignation. “you’re so annoying.”

“but you like me anyway,” he teased, reaching out to lightly pinch your cheek. “come on, admit it.”

“no.”

he chuckled and leaned closer. you hadn’t noticed how near he’d gotten until you turned your head — and suddenly, your faces were only inches apart. the laughter in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by something deeper, something that made your heart stumble in your chest. his gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, then down again, slower this time. the space between you shrank like the air itself was pulling you toward him.

you didn’t move. neither did he. the world felt still, like time itself was watching.

his lips barely parted. “can i...?”

but before he could finish, a knock on the door sliced through the tension.

you both jerked away from each other, heat flooding your cheeks. the door creaked open and seoyun peeked in, one brow raised. “jaehyun, sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for y/n’s therapy session.”

jaehyun cleared his throat, standing up too quickly. “right. of course.”

you avoided his eyes, grabbing your crutches like they might anchor you in place. your entire body felt like it was buzzing with something unfinished.

as seoyun guided you through the hall, she couldn’t hold back her grin.

“what was that?” she asked playfully.

“nothing,” you muttered, a little too fast, face still burning.

she raised an eyebrow. “mmhmm. nothing. sure.”

“seoyun.”

“fine, fine,” she laughed. “i’ll be back later... lovebirds.”

you glared at her retreating figure, but you couldn’t stop the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. not even the dread of your session could erase it completely. something had shifted. something unspoken. and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, it pulsed beneath your skin like the quiet burn of your soulmate mark — now with six petals blooming around its center.

and though no words had been said, something had been felt.

something real.

the therapy room was quiet when you entered, the kind of hush that wraps itself around your bones and makes everything inside you feel more exposed. it smelled faintly of lavender and paper, and the lights were soft, as if trying not to disturb the fragility of your thoughts.

you sat on the couch, your crutches resting beside you like tired limbs. the psychiatrist — a woman with kind, steady eyes — offered you a warm smile, her pen poised loosely between her fingers.

“how are you feeling today?”

you hesitated. your throat felt tight. “i’m not sure,” you admitted. “it’s been… confusing.”

she nodded, as if she already understood. “want to talk about it?”

you looked down at your hands, fingers twisting nervously in your lap. “there’s this boy. jaehyun. he’s—” your voice cracked softly, and you sighed. “he’s not just anyone. i didn’t even know him before the accident. we met after. but somehow, he’s become... everything.”

“everything?” she asked gently.

you nodded, your chest tightening with the weight of your own confession. “i feel like i’m losing control. every time he’s near, i get this—this burn on my wrist, like fire licking at my skin, and i know it’s tied to the soulmate symbol. it started as one petal. now it’s six.”

the therapist’s eyes flicked to your wrist, where the mark now bloomed like a half-open flower, soft and glowing faintly beneath your hospital bracelet.

“and how does that make you feel?”

“scared,” you whispered. “because it’s not just the symbol. it’s him. the way he makes me laugh when i don’t want to. how he looks at me like i’m more than my injuries, like i’m still whole. i never believed in soulmates. i thought it was just… poetic bullshit. but now…”

“now you want it to be real?”

you looked up, your voice a soft plead. “i need it to be real. because i think i—i think i’m falling for him. and i need to know if this thing between us is fate... or just my heart clinging to the first person who didn’t look at me with pity.”

the therapist leaned forward slightly. “have you talked to him about it?”

you shook your head, lips trembling. “i don’t even know how. i feel like every time we get close to saying something real, the world interrupts us. and if i ask too soon… what if it’s only me? what if i’m wrong?”

the session continued for a while longer, but your mind remained tangled in that single question — was this love written in the stars, or simply desperation dressed in hope?

afterward, as you returned to your room, the thoughts clung to you like fog. you sat on the edge of your bed, glancing at the door, half-expecting jaehyun to walk in like he always did. but today, he didn’t. and maybe that absence made the ache sharper.

you let your head fall back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling, and let yourself feel it — all of it.

you remembered the first time you saw him. not when you met him, not when you first heard his name — but the first time. that rainy afternoon in the hallway, when you were still adjusting to the weight of your healing body and he was just a stranger. he was leaning against the wall, earbuds in, hood up, eyes distant. you’d only glanced at him, but something pulled at you. something quiet. you didn’t even know his name then, but he had this presence — like gravity, soft but undeniable.

and then you did get to know him.

his voice — low, warm, always careful with its edges. his hands — long-fingered and expressive, always finding ways to help you without making it feel like charity. the way his laughter wasn’t loud, but it stayed in the room like sunlight. the way he listened. really listened.

and his face — god, his face. dark eyes with a hint of melancholy, as if he’d seen too much but still chose softness. lips that moved with intention, like every word mattered. that little mole beneath his eye, the curve of his jaw when he smiled, the way his hair would fall into his eyes and he’d shake it away without thinking. and when he looked at you? it felt like being seen for the first time.

he made you feel safe. not the kind of safety that came from locked doors or quiet rooms, but the kind that wrapped around your soul — safety from yourself, from the guilt, from the fear of never being whole again.

you touched your wrist absently, fingers brushing over the six soft petals of the flower. you didn’t know what would happen when it bloomed completely. would it mean certainty? would it mean forever?

“do you believe in soulmates?” you had asked him once, weeks ago, in a fleeting moment when neither of you were quite ready to be honest.

he had shrugged back then. “i think... i believe in people finding each other when they’re supposed to.”

you hadn’t said anything at the time. you’d just nodded. but now, those words felt like a quiet promise. a foreshadowing.

you curled up on your side, wrapping your arms around your pillow, heart aching with unspoken truths. because you did believe now. or maybe you just wanted to believe. and that difference — that thin, trembling line — was what kept you up at night.

if he came back tomorrow, if he looked at you again like he did before the almost-kiss…

would you have the courage to ask him again?

and would he finally tell you what you were too afraid to say?

it was the middle of the afternoon when jaehyun returned. you hadn’t expected him — the last time you spoke, he mentioned his mother had scheduled more tests in another hospital, and he’d be gone a while. but there he was, standing in the doorway of your room, holding a plastic bag with canned coffee and a half-smile that faltered the moment your eyes met.

you were seated by the window, your legs propped up, crutches leaning against the wall, the pale sunlight catching on the blooming symbol at your wrist. seven petals now. soft, radiant, like delicate fire.

“you came back,” you whispered, too stunned to stand.

jaehyun nodded, stepping inside slowly, almost as if afraid he might disappear if he moved too quickly. “i missed this place,” he said, setting the coffee on the small table beside you, but his eyes were only on you. “i missed you.”

you swallowed, trying to calm the whirlwind inside you. the past few days had been suffocating. the therapy, the visits, the frustration of trying to move on legs that still betrayed you — but more than anything, the ache of not seeing him.

you reached out, wrapping your fingers around your wrist, heart pounding. “there’s something i need to tell you.”

his expression shifted immediately. concern flashed behind his eyes, and he crouched in front of you, resting one hand lightly on your knee. “what’s wrong?”

you looked down, voice trembling. “it’s about this.” you turned your wrist toward him, exposing the flower that had now grown fuller, more defined. the glow of it shimmered faintly in the sunlight. “do you know what this means?”

he stared at it, brow furrowed. “i… i know it’s the soulmate mark. but i’ve never seen one like that.”

you nodded, blinking against the sting in your eyes. “it appears petal by petal. for most people, their soulmate can’t see it. they just feel it. the warmth, the burn. but jaehyun…” you inhaled shakily. “you’ve seen it. you’ve always seen it.”

he didn’t speak. his lips parted slightly, but no sound came.

“i thought maybe i was imagining it. but you see it. and it only blooms when you’re near. not when seoyun’s around. not my parents. not even when the therapist asked about it. only you.”

he swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours.

you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “i had this dream, back when i was still in and out of consciousness after the crash. i saw this red thread tied around my wrist. it stretched endlessly, through cities, skies, time... and at the end of it was you.”

his breath caught.

“i know it sounds crazy, but… that red thread they talk about, the one that connects soulmates, it’s real. and i’ve felt it pulling me toward you since the moment i saw you laughing in the hallway. i didn’t even know your name, but my heart knew. my soul knew.”

“y/n…” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“you asked me once if i believed in people finding each other when they’re supposed to.” your voice softened into something raw and tender. “i think we were always meant to meet. even in this hospital, even through all this pain. maybe fate isn’t perfect, but it’s persistent. and it brought me you.”

jaehyun’s cheeks flushed with color, his eyes wet and glassy. “i don’t… i don’t know what to say.”

“then don’t say anything.” you cupped his cheek with your free hand, brushing your thumb across his skin. “just feel it.”

he leaned into your touch, slowly, as if absorbing every drop of your warmth. “when you weren’t here, i felt like i couldn’t breathe. i didn’t realize how much you’d become a part of me until you weren’t within reach. i thought maybe… maybe i was being selfish. coming here all the time, waiting to see you smile, hoping you’d lean on me.”

“you weren’t being selfish,” you said, voice thick with emotion. “you were just following the thread.”

he laughed softly, the sound shaky and full of wonder. “then i guess i’ll follow it for as long as it leads me to you.”

your heart ached in the best possible way, swollen with something deeper than joy. his forehead leaned gently against yours, and you felt the warmth of his breath on your lips. neither of you kissed — not yet — but something passed between you, weightless and electric.

outside the window, the trees swayed in slow rhythm. inside, time stood still.

and on your wrist, the eighth petal began to bloom.

the hospital was quiet that night. the kind of quiet that didn’t feel hollow, but sacred—like the world had paused for just the two of you. seoyun had long since gone home after giving you one last teasing smile about how suspiciously often jaehyun had been around lately, and the nurses gave their soft goodnights as they dimmed the hallway lights.

jaehyun sat beside your bed, legs curled under him, his head resting on his hand as he watched you fiddle with the blanket wrapped around your waist. you'd begged him to sneak out with you to the garden, but your legs had been trembling all day, and he refused to let you strain yourself. still, he stayed. he always stayed.

you reached for the window, tugging it open with effort. the night breeze brushed against your skin like a whispered promise. jaehyun turned toward the air and closed his eyes, letting the wind rustle his hair. he looked so peaceful, like something out of a dream.

“you ever wonder,” you murmured, “if the stars are watching us back?”

he opened his eyes, slow and soft. “maybe. or maybe they’re jealous.”

you glanced at him, amused. “jealous of what?”

“of us,” he said simply. “of the fact that we found each other.”

your heart stuttered.

“jaehyun…”

he stood then, gently tugging you upright. your legs wobbled, but he was there in an instant, holding your arms steady, lowering you into the wheelchair you now only used when exhaustion crept in too quickly. his hands on you were always so careful. like you were made of something precious and fragile.

together, you rolled out into the hallway, past the night nurse who gave a silent nod of approval, and down to the garden. the moon was full tonight, bathing everything in silver. the tree where you’d first sat together was swaying gently, leaves whispering secrets.

jaehyun helped you onto the bench, then sat beside you, closer this time. there was something in the air. a pull.

and then you saw it.

glowing faintly in the moonlight.

a thread.

thin. red. pulsing like a heartbeat.

stretching from his wrist… to yours.

your breath caught. you lifted your arm slowly, and jaehyun mirrored you. eyes wide, lips parted, as he stared at the connection between you. it wasn’t metaphorical anymore. it was real. living.

“you see it,” you whispered.

his voice trembled. “i see it.”

tears welled up in your eyes, your hand trembling as you reached for him. his fingers met yours halfway, lacing with instinctive ease. you turned to him, face flushed, the gravity between you now undeniable.

“jaehyun,” you breathed. “do you remember what you said? about wanting to know what it’s like to be loved like in stories?”

his throat bobbed as he nodded.

you leaned in, your voice no more than a quiver. “this is that story.”

he cupped your cheek, so tenderly, so reverently it made your heart splinter and swell all at once. he looked at you like you were everything he ever wanted to hold.

“can i?” he asked, voice trembling, his forehead resting against yours.

you nodded, barely.

and then, slowly, softly, jaehyun kissed you.

it was shy at first—his lips tentative against yours, unsure, gentle, as if he was afraid to get it wrong. but when your hand slid to the back of his neck and your fingers curled into his hair, he sighed against you, a breathless, stunned sound, and kissed you again. deeper. fuller.

your first kiss with him tasted like everything you'd longed for but never knew you needed. and his first kiss with you… felt like the beginning of something holy.

when you finally pulled away, your foreheads still touching, you noticed something glowing brighter than the thread—

the ninth petal.

you smiled through your tears. “i love you.”

jaehyun was still breathless, lips swollen, cheeks red.

and then he whispered, almost as if he was afraid to say it too loudly and shatter the moment:

“i think… i always have.”

everything after the kiss felt like walking on clouds. no—floating. jaehyun’s fingers laced with yours whenever seoyun wasn’t watching. he’d whisper things in your ear just to see you blush, and your smiles bloomed like flowers every time he called you his one and only.

“you’re mine,” he’d whisper while pushing your wheelchair down the garden path. “the universe made you for me. i'm not letting you go.”

his words weren’t just sweet—they were convincing, like vows whispered into existence, like every syllable was a thread woven into the invisible red string that bound your souls. seoyun would narrow her eyes, lips twitching, clearly suspicious, but you only giggled, clutching his hand tighter, savoring the delicious secrecy of it all. jaehyun was yours. your soulmate. your only one. your forever.

but nothing ever stays perfect. not when fate is involved.

it happened in the middle of one of your usual walks. the air was warm, the breeze soft, and jaehyun was humming something under his breath as he gently guided your chair. he’d just leaned down to murmur something teasing in your ear—something about your hair looking extra shiny today—when his voice broke.

you turned around just in time to see his knees buckle.

“jaehyun?”

his eyes rolled back. his body crumpled to the ground.

“jaehyun!”

panic exploded in your chest as nurses came running. one of them had already seen him fall and radioed for assistance. he was lifted onto a stretcher with swift, trained hands. you watched in frozen horror as they rushed him back into the building, his pale face slack, his name tumbling from your lips like a broken prayer.

you couldn't move. your legs trembled even as you tried to stand, gripping the sides of your chair. seoyun came running, helped you back down, whispering reassurances you couldn’t hear past the roaring in your ears.

“he's okay,” she said. “he’s okay, y/n. he just fainted, okay? we’ll find out what happened.”

but it wasn’t just a faint. not when they wheeled him straight into cardiac observation.

you found out later that night, sitting in the hallway outside the ICU. his mother arrived in a rush—elegant, though her eyes were swollen, the same warmth as jaehyun’s but dulled with worry. she told the doctors she'd already noticed signs of arrhythmia through his at-home monitor. jaehyun, stubborn as ever, had begged her not to bring him back. he said he felt fine.

you wanted to scream.

instead, you stared at the door to his room, knuckles white on your crutches. you'd stopped using the wheelchair, trying your best to follow your physiotherapist’s advice. your legs wobbled, but they worked. he even suggested a cane for short distances. you scoffed, saying you'd rather die than look like an old woman. jaehyun would have laughed at that.

but he wasn’t laughing now.

the next morning, you visited him. the roles had reversed—you were the one pushing open the hospital room door now. he was lying there, propped up against pillows, an IV snaking into his arm, ECG leads taped across his chest. his eyes lit up the moment they saw you, but the shine didn’t reach the dark circles beneath them.

“you look good,” he said, voice scratchy. “better on your feet.”

“you look like hell,” you replied, hobbling toward his bed.

“missed you too.”

he tried to smile. you tried not to cry.

later, when the nurse stepped out and you were both alone, you sat beside his bed and reached for his hand. his fingers were cold. his grip was weaker than usual.

jaehyun looked up at the ceiling, the sterile white lights reflecting in his glassy eyes.

“i’m tired, y/n.”

his voice wasn’t small—it was hollow.

“i’m tired of this... this place. this body. i never asked for this. i didn’t want to grow up memorizing the colors of hospital ceilings. i didn’t want to learn the names of heart medications before i knew what real love felt like.”

you didn’t speak. the lump in your throat was too thick.

“i watch people walk around outside and i wonder how it must feel to wake up and not worry if today’s the day your heart just... stops.”

he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, but the tears kept falling—silent, steady, as if they’d been waiting years to fall.

“i wanted to go to school like everyone else. have friends. travel. fall in love without worrying if i’ll still be here next month. now i have you and all i can think is, what if it’s too late?”

your hand curled tighter around his.

“it’s not,” you whispered.

he didn’t answer.

the door opened again. his doctor stepped inside, face unreadable, holding a chart.

“jaehyun,” he said gently, “we’re going to run some more scans. the arrhythmia needs monitoring. we’ll need to keep you here for a few more days, but we’ll take it one step at a time, alright?”

jaehyun didn’t respond. just nodded, barely. his gaze stayed locked on yours.

and even though he was the one with the failing heart—you were the one who felt like yours was breaking.

the garden was quiet that afternoon. clouds hung low over the sky like they, too, had something to mourn. you sat beneath the same tree you used to visit with jaehyun, but now the breeze felt colder, and the laughter that had once lingered here was gone.

your crutches rested against the stone bench. your legs were sore, trembling slightly from walking more than you should have, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache inside your chest.

you hated this.

hated that he was back in a hospital bed. hated that he had to smile through his pain. hated that he said he was tired, and you knew he didn’t just mean physically.

you clutched your chest, fingers pressing over the soft fabric of your hoodie where your soulmark bloomed quietly underneath. seven petals now. only one left.

and still... he was sick.

what if the thread of fate was cruel? what if it was meant to show you who you'd lose, not who you'd keep?

tears spilled silently down your cheeks. you covered your face with your hands, biting your lip to keep from sobbing aloud.

“please,” you whispered to no one. “please don’t take him away from me.”

the sky didn’t answer. only the leaves rustling above.

the next day, you returned to his room. he was sitting up again, looking better, at least on the outside. his mom had gone home for a bit, and the nurses were switching shifts. it was just the two of you, like it had always been.

you stood at the door for a moment, crutches supporting you, your heart hammering against your ribs.

he looked up. his eyes widened.

“you’re walking again?”

“hobbling,” you corrected, forcing a smile.

jaehyun grinned, and for a second, it was easy to forget. easy to pretend he wasn’t hooked up to machines, that there wasn’t a chart by his bed filled with words like arrhythmia and risk assessment.

you limped to his bedside. he reached out for your hand before you could even sit.

“you came back,” he whispered.

“i’ll always come back,” you said.

he opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it—tugging up your sleeve and showing him your wrist.

the flower.

seven petals, glowing faintly.

his eyes widened.

“it’s almost complete,” you said, voice shaking with something too big for words. “just one more. and then... maybe then we’ll be safe.”

“safe?”

“you and me. i don’t know, i just... i think once it’s full, something will change. maybe you’ll get better. maybe the universe will give us a break. i feel it, jaehyun. we’re supposed to be together. for always.”

his hand shook as he reached out to brush his thumb over your soulmark.

“i don’t deserve you.”

“you’re the only one who ever could.”

you leaned in, cupped his face.

“you’re mine.”

and you kissed him.

not with desperation, but with certainty.

his lips were soft, still unfamiliar, but yours moved like they’d known each other forever. his hand slipped to your waist, and you climbed carefully onto the bed, settling beside him with your head against his shoulder, your bodies curled into each other like puzzle pieces that had finally clicked into place.

neither of you spoke. there was no need.

you just were.

together.

you stayed like that until a nurse knocked gently and warned you to be careful. you both scrambled like kids caught sneaking out, faces flushed, laughter caught in your throats.

but the laughter faded the next morning when the results came in.

his doctor walked in with a different expression this time—one that made your stomach twist.

“we need to run additional diagnostics,” he said calmly. “his heart rhythm is more irregular than expected. we’ll conduct a cardiac MRI, possibly a stress test. there are signs that we may be dealing with something beyond arrhythmia.”

you stopped breathing.

jaehyun’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t react beyond a quiet nod. he didn’t want you to worry.

but you did.

the next day, you brought lunch to his room. he wasn’t hungry, not really, but he took a few bites of the rice and soup anyway. he didn’t want to talk about the test. neither did you.

so instead, you talked about everything else.

“do you remember the day we met?” he asked softly.

“i thought you were so beautiful. even back then. even when you looked like you wanted to kill me.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder again, your fingers tracing idle shapes on the blanket.

“you were so kind,” you whispered. “i didn’t expect someone like you to be real. and then you kept coming back, and i didn’t know what to do with all that... goodness.”

he turned his head, eyes soft.

“you don’t have to do anything with it. just take it.”

you looked up at him.

“can i kiss you again?”

he blushed, but nodded.

you didn’t wait.

you kissed him like you wanted to breathe him in. kissed him because everything about him was hope and light and love. kissed him because if tomorrow was cruel, you needed to give him all the softness today could offer.

his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“don’t leave,” he murmured into your hair.

“never,” you said. “you’re stuck with me. forever.”

you didn’t know what the tests would say.

you had left the hospital three days ago, not the way you once imagined you would. no victorious music playing in your head, no dramatic moment of running through the halls with a discharge paper in hand. no. instead, your steps were slow, accompanied by the steady rhythm of your crutches and the soft click of the cane—an item you had stubbornly refused at first, claiming it made you look like an old woman. but in the end, your physiotherapist convinced you it was the next step, a temporary aid, not a defeat.

seoyun had packed your things while humming lightly, her words gentle, her smile warm. she promised to visit often, to check in and make sure you were still behaving like the little diva she’d grown fond of. your parents were there too, proud but cautiously optimistic, helping you settle into the car with pillows behind your back, like you were made of glass. everything outside the hospital felt too bright, too loud. the city buzzed as if nothing had happened, as if your world hadn’t turned upside down.

the first two nights at home were quiet. too quiet. the silence pressed against your chest in a way the heart monitor never did. you missed the soft beeps, the nurses’ laughter down the hall, the smell of sterilized linens… but more than anything, you missed him.

jaehyun.

so on the third morning, you asked the driver to take you back. you dressed carefully, picking a soft sweater he once said he liked, something warm but not too heavy. you held a small bouquet in your hands—flowers that resembled the ones on your wrist, delicate and soft, as if plucked from that imaginary garden your souls seemed to share.

your legs were stronger now, but they still shook sometimes. the stairs at your house were your enemies, and you avoided them like the plague. but today, walking down the hospital corridor again with your cane and crutch tucked beneath each arm, you felt determined. the familiar scent of antiseptic didn’t scare you anymore. this place had become a part of you.

you found jaehyun in his room, sitting by the window, legs folded, sketchbook untouched in his lap. he looked up when the door creaked, and the second he saw you, his entire face changed. the tiredness didn’t disappear, but something warmer surfaced beneath it—something like relief, or maybe love.

“you’re here,” he said softly, as if afraid his voice would shatter the moment.

“of course i am,” you replied, stepping inside with slow care. “did you think i’d abandon you now?”

he laughed weakly, but the sound faded too quickly. you moved closer and placed the bouquet on the side table. he didn’t reach for them. he just kept looking at you.

“you look good,” he murmured.

“and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

he tilted his head with a small smile. “i haven’t.”

“why?”

“dreams,” he said vaguely. “memories. fear. take your pick.”

you sighed and took a seat beside him on the bed, adjusting your position with a tiny wince when your knee clicked. he noticed, but said nothing.

“i thought maybe… i could cheer you up a little.” you pushed the bouquet closer to him. “i got these for you.”

he finally looked at them, really looked, and his hand brushed over the petals with the same reverence he once showed your drawing. “they look like your flower.”

you nodded, glancing down at your wrist. the mark was almost complete. just one more petal.

“i thought they’d remind you of what’s waiting for you,” you said gently. “what we have. what we can still build together.”

his eyes turned glassy. his lips parted but no sound came. instead, he reached for your hand. his fingers trembled as they found yours.

“i’m sorry i scared you the other day,” he whispered.

“don’t apologize. you didn’t ask to collapse.”

“i should’ve told someone i wasn’t feeling well. i didn’t want to worry you. i just… i felt so happy. i forgot for a second that i’m not like everyone else.”

you leaned in, your hand reaching to tuck his hair behind his ear. “you are like everyone else, jaehyun. you just happen to have a heart that’s a little more stubborn.”

he chuckled, then fell quiet again. the silence stretched between you, but not uncomfortably.

“i hate this,” he said suddenly. “i hate being here again. i hate the machines, the blood draws, the looks on people’s faces like they’re waiting for something awful to happen.”

you tightened your grip on his hand. “i know. but you’re not alone this time.”

he looked at you then, and his eyes were full of everything—grief, fear, longing, and something fierce. something brave. “i know,” he repeated, and for the first time that day, it sounded like he believed it.

you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. slowly, carefully, you shifted onto the bed, curling beside him like you had done once before, only this time you didn’t feel like the fragile one. your head rested against his shoulder, your legs tangled slightly, and his arms came around you, warm and steady. you stayed like that for a long time, both of you silent, watching the clock hands move as if they mattered.

“we’re going to be okay,” you whispered.

“yeah,” he said softly. “we will.”

but neither of you knew the results were arriving the next day.

and they wouldn’t be good.

the hallway outside jaehyun’s room smelled faintly of antiseptic and something warmer—like the remnants of someone’s coffee left to go cold. the light filtering through the blinds was soft, but it couldn’t soften the conversation taking place just beyond the threshold of the door.

his mother stood beside the doctor, hands clenched in front of her, knuckles pale against the beige of her coat sleeves. her voice trembled as she tried to keep herself together, the way she always did—strong for her son, for the world.

“how is this possible?” she asked, voice thin and breaking. “he was discharged with a good prognosis. you said he was stable. he’s been taking his medication, doing everything right…”

the doctor sighed, his expression apologetic, brows drawn together in weary resignation. “we ran a full cardiac panel and imaging. the arrhythmia has worsened significantly. his left ventricular function is dropping. it could be the result of an undetected progressive cardiomyopathy. this wasn’t visible on the last scan… but it’s advancing fast.”

her lips parted in disbelief, but no sound came. just silence, thick and suffocating. she shook her head slowly, tears welling in her eyes. “are you saying my son… might not…”

“we’re not there yet,” the doctor said carefully. “but we need to prepare. we’ll begin new treatments, increase monitoring. he’ll stay here under close observation. we need to reevaluate the transplant list... and time is critical.”

inside the room, jaehyun lay still in his bed, staring out the window with wide, quiet eyes. the sunlight painted soft gold against the pale blue of the curtains, but it didn’t reach him.

he could hear every word.

he didn’t move. didn’t blink. just let the noise blur into a low hum.

his heartbeat was too loud.

but not in the way he once loved when he was with you.

his fingers rested over the edge of his blanket, curling slightly as the doctor’s voice echoed again in his head—time is critical.

he closed his eyes, willing it all away, imagining the sound of your laughter instead, the soft scolding tone in your voice when you told him to stop being cocky, the way your eyes sparkled when you teased him.

you.

his mind searched for you instinctively, like a compass spinning toward home.

he pictured you standing by the edge of the garden in that hospital gown you hated, grumbling about your cane, rolling your eyes but letting him help you anyway. he remembered how your face looked when you smiled at him the day of your first kiss—like he was the only person in the world.

you’re like a vitamin, he thought. no… more than that.

you were air.

the reason he could breathe in moments like this.

his throat tightened. he turned his head away from the door, pretending he didn’t hear his mother’s soft sob outside, didn’t notice the way the doctor’s voice grew quieter in a vain attempt to protect him from the truth.

but the truth had already arrived.

and it sat heavy in his chest, aching, thudding unevenly.

he wasn’t afraid of dying.

but the thought of leaving you behind?

of not seeing your flower bloom to its final petal? of never getting to draw you again, touch your cheek, press his lips to yours under skies of warmth and belonging?

that was the kind of fear that broke him.

and in that moment, he felt like a boy again.

small.

helpless.

but still in love. so hopelessly in love with you, it hurt more than the failing beat of his own heart.

the garden was a quiet refuge, a small patch of life bursting through the cold sterility of the hospital walls. you had slipped away from the buzz of the ward, leaning heavily on your crutches as you made your way beneath the towering old tree. the branches swayed gently above you, leaves whispering with the breeze, as if carrying some secret message only the two of you could understand. you settled onto the worn wooden bench, your body trembling from the effort of moving, but your heart heavier for different reasons. the exhaustion of the day, the weight of your uncertain future, and the ache of missing jaehyun’s presence all pressed down on you.

you wiped at your eyes, trying to hold back the tears, but they came anyway—slow, quiet, a release you desperately needed. you hated feeling vulnerable like this, hated how fragile you suddenly were, but it was the truth you had to face. you were still fragile, still broken in so many ways.

inside the hospital, jaehyun lay in his room, the sterile white walls closing in around him like a cage. he stared out the window, watching the leaves move in rhythm with the wind. his heart was heavy, but his thoughts drifted to you — to your smile, to the way you moved, even on your bad days. you were a light in the darkness, a reason to hold on when everything felt so bleak. he clutched the thin hospital blanket closer, as if it could somehow shield him from the fear that clawed at his chest.

he whispered your name into the silence, a prayer, a promise, a plea. “y/n...” the word caught in his throat, fragile as a breath.

you glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “how do you... keep going? when it’s so hard?”

“because i have a reason. you.” his hand brushed yours lightly, a touch full of unspoken promises. “you’re my reason.”

your breath caught, and tears threatened to fall again. “but what if—”

“don’t say it,” jaehyun interrupted gently, lifting your chin so your eyes met. “we don’t have to face what-ifs now. we have today. and today, we fight. together.”

you didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. the doctors had warned of the risks, the uncertainty. every test, every result, was a new mountain to climb. but in that moment, beneath the ancient tree, you allowed yourself to believe in something more — in hope, in the strength of the connection that bound you and jaehyun.

you thought of the flower on your wrist, the petals blooming slowly, a symbol of the bond that neither of you could explain but both felt deeply. it was nearly complete — five delicate petals circling the center, each one a promise, a sign that you were meant to find each other, to fight together.

“maybe,” you whispered to the wind, “maybe that last petal will bloom when we’re ready... when we’ve made it through.”

back in his room, jaehyun’s eyes glistened with tears as he imagined your words. he reached out toward the window, as if he could touch you through the glass, feel your warmth. “i’ll be here, y/n,” he promised quietly. “i’ll fight to be with you. no matter what.”

neither of you could say what the future held — only that you had each other. and sometimes, that was enough to carry you through the darkest days.

the days passed with a quiet weight, each one slower than the last, carrying a heaviness that settled deep in your chest. jaehyun was still there, still fighting, but the change was undeniable. the sharp outline of his face grew thinner, his once steady hands now trembling even at rest. some mornings, he couldn’t summon the strength to sit up, his body surrendering to exhaustion long before the sun had risen.

you were always by his side — sometimes holding his hand, sometimes just sitting quietly, the silence between you filled with unspoken worries. you tried to be his rock, but behind closed doors, when no one was watching, the tears came. you cried softly in the bathroom, wiping your cheeks before returning, forcing a smile that felt like breaking glass beneath the surface.

“jaehyun,” you whispered one afternoon, your voice barely audible, “you’re stronger than this. you have to be.”

he gave you a faint, tired smile, eyes heavy but warm. “i wish i could be,” he said, voice rough. “but some days... some days my body just won’t listen.”

your heart clenched, but you reached for his hand, holding it gently as if to anchor him in this fading moment. “we’re going to get through this. together.”

he squeezed your fingers weakly, a silent promise.

a few days ago, you had noticed the flower on your wrist had finally blossomed completely — all six petals glowing softly beneath your skin. it should have been a moment of joy, a sign that maybe fate had smiled on you both. but you kept it to yourself, afraid it might feel like a goodbye, a closing chapter neither of you was ready to face.

“why don’t you tell me about it?” jaehyun asked one evening, catching the hesitance in your gaze.

you hesitated, heart aching. “because... i’m scared it means something. that it’s a sign of an ending.”

he shook his head slowly, exhaustion dimming his spark. “then let’s make it a sign of a beginning. of hope.”

his words should have comforted you, but all you could feel was the tightening grip of fear.

nights were the hardest. you stayed by his bedside, watching his shallow breaths, the way his body trembled under the thin hospital blanket. you wanted to scream, to shake the unfairness of it all — but instead, you whispered soft prayers into the dark, fingers tracing the invisible red thread you both shared.

“jaehyun,” you said quietly one morning, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, “no matter what happens, you’re the most important thing in my life.”

he opened his eyes, searching yours with a fragile clarity. “and you’re mine.”

there was so much love wrapped in those words, but beneath it was a looming shadow neither dared to name.

sometimes, when you thought he was asleep, you caught him staring at the ceiling, lips moving silently as if holding on to memories, to dreams, to you.

the hospital walls closed in around you both — a cage of uncertainty and fragile hope. but still, you clung to each other, to the small moments of laughter, the whispered confessions, the gentle touches that said, without words, “i’m here.”

and you prayed, over and over, that this thread tying your souls together would be strong enough to hold you through the storm.

the day had been quiet when you arrived at the hospital, your steps slow but steady on your cane, clutching the small bouquet of flowers — fragile, like the hope you tried to hold onto. the door to jaehyun’s room was slightly ajar, but as you pushed it open, your heart shattered instantly: the room was empty. panic flared in your chest. before you could even process, the sharp clang of wheels echoed down the hall. two camilleros rushed past, pushing jaehyun’s bed swiftly down the corridor. his pale face was barely visible, eyes closed, tubes tangled around him, machines beeping wildly.

“jaehyun!” you screamed, your voice raw and desperate, echoing through the sterile hallways. “jaehyun, wait!” your crutches clattered as you tried to follow, heart pounding violently against your ribs.

nurses and doctors shouted, their voices frantic. “code blue, code blue! prepare the resuscitation room!” you could hear the fear, the urgency. your world narrowed down to just him — the only thing that ever mattered.

a strong hand suddenly grabbed your arm, and you were stopped mid-step. seoyun’s face was pale, her eyes glistening with tears but filled with a calm you didn’t feel. “y/n, please. you can’t go in there. they’re doing everything they can,” she said softly, but her voice trembled.

another nurse gently held your other arm, grounding you. you struggled, wanting to break free, to run, to be with him. “he’s not—he can’t—” your voice cracked, tears streaming uncontrollably now, your sobs wracking your body. “he has to be okay. he has to be!”

they held you firmly as you screamed his name, your heart fracturing with every step the camilla disappeared down the corridor. voices faded into a blur, your mind caught in a storm of memories — every smile, every whispered “i love you,” every moment when his hand fit perfectly in yours.

you remembered the quiet mornings in his hospital room, the way he used to brush your hair back tenderly, the secret smiles shared over silly jokes, the soft confessions in the dark, the warmth of his embrace that made the cold sterile walls feel like home.

“why?” you sobbed to the empty hallway, clutching your chest as if you could hold your broken heart together. “why does everything I love have to be taken away?”

minutes felt like hours as you sat in the stark hospital waiting area, your hands trembling, clutching the wilted bouquet you had brought him. your tears had long since dried, but your heart hammered painfully in your chest, refusing to calm. the sterile silence was broken only by hurried footsteps and distant voices — all pulling you further into the unbearable waiting.

then, quietly but with a steady purpose, jaehyun’s mother appeared, her face pale but composed, eyes shadowed with exhaustion and worry. she approached you slowly, her hands nervously twisting a delicate handkerchief. the two of you shared a look — a mix of unspoken grief and fragile hope.

after a long moment, a doctor came into view. his expression was gentle but heavy, the weight of what he was about to say pressing down on him. he paused, searching for the right words. “mrs. park... y/n...” he began softly, “we did everything possible. jaehyun fought so hard... but...”

his voice caught. jaehyun’s mother reached out, squeezing your hand with a tremble. “he didn’t make it,” the doctor finished quietly.

the words hung in the air like a cruel fog. you felt your breath catch, your body going numb. tears welled up again, threatening to spill. you wanted to scream, to fight, to deny this terrible truth — but there was no escaping it.

jaehyun’s mother leaned close, voice cracking, “he was so brave... and he loved you very much.”

you clung to those words even as your world shattered around you, the depth of your loss crashing in waves that stole your breath and left you broken.

the day was cloaked in a soft, relentless gray, the sky heavy as if it too mourned the loss it witnessed. the air was thick, almost tangible with sorrow, as you stood among the quiet crowd gathered beneath the somber canopy of trees. the gentle rustle of leaves whispered in the wind, a fragile soundtrack to the unbearable silence that wrapped around your chest like a vise.

jaehyun lay in his simple casket, pale and peaceful, a stark contrast to the vibrant life he once held. the flowers—white and delicate—circled the edges like a halo, and for a moment, you imagined he was just resting, that he would open his eyes and smile at you, as he always did, that same shy, warm smile that had once lit up every corner of your world.

but the cruel truth was there, undeniable and relentless. the distance between life and death stretched wide and cold, and no whispered prayer or desperate wish could close the gap.

you found yourself standing at the edge, trembling, unable to speak the words trapped deep inside your heart—words you’d rehearsed a thousand times but that now felt hopelessly inadequate. the words that should have been said, the love that should have been confessed, the promises that would now remain forever unfulfilled.

jaehyun had been your light in the darkest moments, your steady anchor when the world spun too fast. he was the quiet strength behind your smiles, the gentle hand that wiped away your tears, the voice that told you everything would be okay even when nothing seemed to be. and now, the silence he left behind was deafening.

you wished you could rewind time, hold him tighter, say everything you never dared to. tell him how he was more than just your soulmate—he was your best friend, your safe place, your heart’s quiet home. tell him you loved him in ways words could never capture, how every breath you took after meeting him was touched by the warmth of his presence.

but there was only this stillness now. a stillness that echoed with what could have been.

your tears fell freely as you traced invisible lines over the casket, a silent goodbye you could never fully voice. the weight of loss crushed you, a sorrow so vast it felt as though it would swallow you whole. you whispered his name into the wind, hoping it might carry your love to wherever he was now—hoping he could feel you even as you stood apart.

around you, faces blurred with shared grief, but none understood the depth of what you felt. how a part of your soul had gone with him, how the future you had dreamed of was now nothing but a fragile memory slipping through your fingers.

and yet, beneath the unbearable pain, a fragile seed of something else stirred—gratitude. for the moments you had. for the way he had shown you what it meant to truly care, to be seen, to be loved. for the light he had brought into your life, brief but brilliant.

you pressed your hand to your chest, where the red thread still curled softly beneath your skin—its petals incomplete but vibrant—a reminder that even in loss, some connections never truly break.

as the ceremony drew to a close and the earth embraced him gently, you stood there, broken but holding onto that sliver of hope, that maybe, somehow, in another time, another life, your souls would find each other again.

the cemetery was quiet, the world hushed as if it too was holding its breath for you. the cold wind brushed gently against your cheeks, but it was the weight in your chest that truly burned—a heaviness no words could lift. you stood before jaehyun’s grave, the simple stone etched with his name, a fragile marker of a life so painfully short.

your hands trembled as you reached out to touch the cool marble, tracing the letters that felt impossibly distant, yet heartbreakingly close. “jaehyun,” you whispered, voice breaking like a fragile thread, “i’m still here. i’m still holding on, even though every part of me wants to fall apart.”

tears spilled down your face, hot and relentless, carrying every ounce of love and sorrow you’d tried to hold inside. “i never got to tell you everything i wanted,” you said, “how much you meant to me... how you saved me when i thought i was lost... how your smile was the only light that ever made sense.” your breath hitched, the memories flooding in, both cruel and beautiful. “i’m so sorry i couldn’t save you. i’m sorry we didn’t have more time.”

you knelt by the grave, placing the last wilted petals from your bouquet on the earth, petals that mirrored the half-bloomed flower on your wrist — a symbol of the future you both dreamed of but never reached. “the red thread... it brought us together, didn’t it?” you whispered, voice barely audible, “i believe it. i believe we were meant to find each other, even if only for a little while.”

the wind picked up, as if carrying your words to him, and you closed your eyes, imagining his presence there—warm, gentle, just beyond the veil. “i’ll carry you with me,” you promised through your tears, “in every breath, every heartbeat. and maybe, someday, when this pain fades, we’ll meet again. in another life, another time.”

the ache in your chest was sharp, suffocating, but beneath it, a fragile ember of hope glowed. hope that love this true could never really die.

you stayed there long after the others had gone, speaking softly to the emptiness, to the memory of him. and as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the quiet earth, you finally stood, wiping your tears away with trembling hands, and took a slow, steady breath.

“goodbye, jaehyun,” you said, voice trembling but sure, “until we meet again.”

[pineconepie]

I wonder how the yandads would react to a reader with chronic pain. Like, I don't know about other people, but I can walk for like half an hour without any major pain, but standing in the same place more than a couple minutes will have me bedridden for the next couple of days and have to be carried because even if wheelchairs were cheaper, forget about accessibility where I live. Also I wonder how the yandads would react to people bullying the reader for this kind of condition because it makes them an easier target and the teachers don't do anything because "it was just a little push, it's not like you got hurt"

Can I be ⚖️ anon?

As someone with chronic pain, I sadly understand :')

I included my favorite yandads since I wanted to be self indulgent because I relate too hard.

.

Octavian has inhuman strength, so he can carry you around anywhere. Even if you say you're okay to walk, if he sees even the slightest bit of pain, either you will stay in bed all day or he'll carry you wherever you need to go. No ifs, ands, or buts!

He also has lots of remedies to soothe your pain, even if it can't completely get rid of it. He becomes very fussy over you when these moments happen, insisting he dotes on you.

.

Vincent would make sure his penthouse has much more accessibility, and would insist on getting you any mobility aid you'd find helpful, even if you don't need to use it all the time. Expenses be damned!

And if anyone even dares to mock you for it, he'll deal with them <3

.

Seradiel also can carry you around very easily, and will also insist on doing so. Even though he can't completely get rid of your pain, he can make it duller and more manageable. In attempts to soothe you, he'll like humming to you.

If anyone harasses you, he'll act calm and explain why they are in the wrong, but if they even slightly hurt you, he'll hurt them a hundred times worse. He's your guardian angel, so he's technically just doing his job.....

.

Cullen hurriedly makes the house more accessible, picks up meds, heating packs, anything else that might slightly help you. If anyone is even slightly mean to you, he'll be yelling and calling them names, and August may need to hold him back from getting physical, even if he is also angry.

August, on the other hand, just holds your hand when your pain spikes up and murmurs soothing words to you. He'll also insist on making you your comfort meals, and would be very reluctant and nervous to leave you alone normally, but especially when you're going through this.

.

Ellis is already overbearing, but he becomes much more overbearing, since he not only worries more about you, but also because he kind of views it as even more of a justification to keep you in his sights as much as possible.

Anyone who gives you a hard time will get expelled. And if its a fellow teacher, he'll glare at them every time they're in the same room as him or you, and try to get them fired. If that doesn't work, he'll just try really hard to keep you from being around them.

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

More Headcanons: Personality Quirks

Leo:

• calm and collected but also very stubborn. it's his way or the high way until you prove him otherwise

• feelings aren't foreign but definitely aren't something he's particularly good at. he's guarded when he's confronted with someone who's heart is on their sleeve

• feelings, that being said, aren't a sign of weakness in his eyes. go ahead, be angry or be sad, but get it together cause shit needs done

• only truly comforting if you're full blown sobbing, and depending on your relationship, big bro leo or soft boyfriend leo come out

• best at de-escalation unless he's the one fighting with the other person

• hates, hates, hates being wrong (i don't make the rules) but weirdly not afraid to apologize for being wrong, in his own way of course

• he hates the word sorry and believes it's just a word. since he's a man of few words, he prefers to show he's sorry. (i've mentioned it before and i'll die on this hill, king of acts of service)

• can dish advice like it's candy but for the life of him can't take his own advice

• the patience of an absolute saint, unless you're one of his brothers

• confrontation is his middle name

• sarcastic but very thoughtful and very appreciative

• besides mikey, he gets the most depressed because he feels like his only identity is a leader at times

• he strikes me as the kind of guy that just comes up out of nowhere and says "need some help with that?"

• willing to try anything once, open minded to an extent if it's not dangerous

• extremely trustworthy and loyal

Raph:

• hothead but the most sensitive out of all the brothers. very quick to cry

• feelings, like mikey, are shown on his sleeve. he makes it everyone's problem

• bad at communication...that's all i gotta say on that

• unhealthy projector of feelings but is willing to hear tips on how to do better

• the type to start crying if you start crying

• not the most patient in the world but if you're new something he tries (keyword: tries) to be as patient as possible

• he gets awkward if he knows he hurt someone's feelings and has to apologize. very bad at words and not the best at showing he's truly sorry

• horrible at advice

• chronic gaslighter in some situations (i don't make the rules)

• he truly does try to better himself if you call him out on his bs, he's able to hold himself accountable..in his own way

• even though he's a hothead, once you start crying, immediately he stops. the first sight of your lip quivering and he's shut up cause he crossed the line and he knows it

• doesn't mind confrontation

• loyal, loyal, loyal

• type to hold a grudge forever and never forget

• the "where's my hug at" guy

Donnie:

• his intelligence is his strongest suite but sometimes it goes to his head...literally

• very awkward with feelings and has no idea what to do in situations that call for comfort

• unless he's very comfortable with you, he will send you to someone else if you're upset so he doesn't upset you more

• not emotional but also not not emotional

• doesn't like confrontation at all unless you're nice about it

• best at communication out of all the guys because if he's bothered, he makes it very known

• besides mikey, he's very easily manipulated

• chronic overthinker

• very insecure in his abilities as a ninja

• hates to talk about his feelings and bottles them up until he explodes

• not one to get angry but he is the passive aggressive king

• germaphobe (no elabortion...he just is)

• he's very kind and very helpful when the situation calls for it

• he's the most gentle of all the guys

• definitely on the spectrum (not sure which, but he's definitely on one)

Mikey:

• number one most emotional out of all the brothers and doesn't show it

• jokester but is able to have meaningful and deep conversations the best

• most empathetic and compassionate but too quick to trust

• explosive temper that only comes out when his family or friends are in life threatening danger

• feelings are worn on his sleeve and he isn't ashamed to show them

• boundaries are an extreme work in progress (do with that what you will)

• sometimes is unable to decifer when not to make a joke

• will take jokes as far as they'll go to the point where the offense level is very questionable

• apologizes until it gets incredibly annoying

• will never be afraid to share his opinion but will always be quick to point out the good

• he cries all the time with no shame

• actually a very analytical and extreme outside the box thinker

• the "i had him/her first" friend if you get into a relationship

• very good listener when needed, but selective hearing most of the time

• he has adhd. nothing further needed.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Dude I am absolutely in love with your techno fics. You and Clean liens are keeping my sanity in tact and not crashing out. Anyways, give me your top 3 tropes with techno please!

You're so real for that, Techno-centric fic is what keeps me going too <3

UGH, picking a favorite trope with Techno is like picking a favorite child, it's so hard. I'll name three I really enjoy, but honestly it's just scratching the surface and I'm probably forgetting other tropes I love an equal amount.

One: Hiding an injury/illness. This trope is one of my favorite in general for any fandom but it definitely fits perfectly with a character like Technoblade. I love when a character either is too stubborn to admit they're sick or hurt, don't feel like they're deserving of being cared for, simply are awkward about it because they never had people care for them before, or are used to pushing their own health aside for others (like in a combat scenario where they'd prefer to focus on a hurt friend even if the friend's injury is not as bad as their own) - all of those arguably apply to Techno. Bonus points for combining it with a dramatic or inopportune reveal like ignoring the injury until he faints or something. Very tasty.

Two: 'Just a guy' Techno or 'odd one out' Techno. This one arguably is more AU focused but I think my fic history can attest I'm a big fan of fics where Techno is just a guy. Especially if he isn't necessarily less badass than he is in canon. With 'odd one out' I mean content where Techno is like, a different species than the others. I'm a big fan of human!Techno on the origins server or any AU where Techno is human but sbi isn't (human!techno with alien SBI, vampire SBI, fae SBI, etc). Or sometimes he's the only nonhuman, that's fun too (siren!Techno au my beloved)! Or where he's like, the only commoner while SBI is royalty, or a civilian/hero when the others are villains. That vibe basically. There are a lot of different ways you can play with this trope AND it lends itself especially well for dark SBI which is like, my favorite subgenre of Techno fic lmao.

Three: disabled!Techno. Bit of a self-indulgent one ofc because I love projecting onto my blorbo. But also it just makes sense to me in dsmp canon like, it seems unlikely somebody could have gone through all the stuff Techno goes through and not have it leave some permanent marks. I enjoy giving him chronic pain, migraines, maybe amputated fingers. For bunnyblade there's the obvious leg amputation too. But you can get creative for AUs or just for fun. Seizures because of the anvil!!! Put that man in a wheelchair!!! Again, lots of options.

[hectsliveblogblog]

So, I'm going to abandon all attempt to discuss these games in a linear order because it feels a bit limiting. I wanted to talk about this scene in Volume 2 because it hit home very strongly. This is the scene where Hedwig returns to her cell for the first time in Love Thyself.

Yes, okay, bullet point of the scene is Hedwig is getting horny and masturbating (technically just autoeroticism?) and doesn't even know it. But, to me at least, this whole scene is a very vivid description of what it's like to come out of a dissociative episode. When I have them, my primary symptom is that all of my senses and emotions feel dulled. I can hardly feel anything, whether it's the smell of a scented candle, the taste of a good meal, the impact of a good drum beat. I could tell the music was playing, but it sounded either faint, on the edge of my perception, and if I turned it up too loud is started to sound fuzzy and overwhelming. It's a response to stress, basically - the mind is protecting itself from perceived threats by dulling the perceived pain, but if it turns the pain knob down then it turns everything else at once.

I can remember when I escaped chronic stressful situations, like at the end of a college term, or moving from my parent's house for the first time, that everything suddenly felt vivid. I could feel parts of my body that seemed to have been long dormant. I can remember particularly being cognizant of my feet, the way having my socks off and laying on nice sheets felt. The feel of my fuzzy slippers. The chill of snow on the tips of my toes as I walk outside. The irritation of a pebble in my shoe.

Hedwig at this moment has been through an extremely stressful few weeks. She's been dragged out of her home against her will, thrown into an incredibly complicated social situation, pushed into becoming an amateur detective, witnessed threats against her life and a severe injury, and possibly has been drugged multiple times (often a trigger for dissociative symptoms). She has to keep track of a complex web of lies and promises to the whole rest of the abbey. To return to the cell is to trigger memories of peace, of a simpler life, to let the cortisol levels drop to the point where more complex emotions than "need for survival" start to creep in.

And when you do start to relax and come back to reality, when your hypervigilance starts to die down, there is often a forgetfulness that creeps in. Your senses are restored and become your focus rather than whatever catastrophe you're trying to prevent. Sometimes it has gotten me into trouble as I've forgotten my responsibilities and gone a bit wild, but after I've merely existed for months, feeling like I'm in a foggy dream and being able to barely feel or want anything, why would I want to do anything but feel and live?

I think part of this scene is to demonstrate that many people get horny (although not everyone!) but not everyone has the ability to put a name to it, but to me it also reads as a strikingly accurate depiction of the experience of escaping a dissociative episode. It almost never hits you when you expect it, it can be shocking, it can be gratifying, it can even lead to a panic attack since the sheer amount of sensory information you're suddenly flooded with can be utterly overwhelming.

I think Xeecee has done immensely well in depicting dissociative symptoms in Volume 2. I don't have any dissociative identity symptoms so I can't speak to that, but I've been experiencing derealization/depersonalization for a very long time without having seen much media that really gets it right, and I think that's amazing.

There's one other moment I'd like to bring up from the trek to the fishing spot in Gone Fishing.

This moment also seems to me to be a very close description of escaping depersonalization/derealization. It really is like you can feel more. When you get out of your head and into your senses. Sometimes I describe it as, when you're in DPDR mode, your body is in survival mode. It tries to shut out all extraneous detail from your senses. You get tunnel vision, your body blocks out pain and minor irritations, your sense of touch is dulled, and when you start to get those senses back to full working order it can be overwhelming. Particularly when you don't have the vocabulary to describe it to yourself.

[inbokutowetrust]

... Celebrating your 6-Month Anniversary!

how the haikyuu!! boys celebrate your 6 month anniversary online/msgs!

please follow, like, and/or reblog, that'll give me more energy to make these 🥰 i might also take requests, feel free to shoot me an anon like "hq boys (or mha) reacting to ___"

Includes Atsumu Miya, Kei Tsukishima (w/ Babe), Shoyo Hinata, Hajime Iwaizumi, and Rintarou Suna, 🥺

Atsumu 100% tweeted this, then knocked on the door with flowers and chocolates 🥺🥺 this is the man who’ll forget your one year anniversary but remember every small thing 🥺 “You ok baby?” he’ll ask; “no, not after the flowers!” is what you say

tsukki haha!! this is kinda of an AU, not gonna lie, with a y/n reader, but it's kind of...like, she has a nickname, ok, and that's what she's referred to by (bcs I hate the name y/n). basically, her name is Babe, and she’s like…the “outgoing” version of Tsukki. Think very Atsumu into a girl? She’s definitely the one to suggest fun meetings (kinda like Mina Ashido from MHA/BNHA) and as a result, Tsukki teases her endlessly about how it sometimes fails (with cuddles). She’s outgoing and sarcastic, but she cares very deeply!!  Fun fact, she’s only called “babe” because that’s what she always called tsukki when flirting, but then he twisted the tables!

haha so hinata is definitely one to use a lot of kamojis/emoji combos a lot. like, he spams. plus, you cannot tell me he uses lyrics to convey stuff - it's so hinata-coded it's ridiculous! Anyways, Hinata is a happy go-lucky lover who's so excited for 6 months, he goes all out! (and for a year, 2, 3, etc) (ninja shoyo reference anyone?) particular song is "kings & queens" by Ava Max, btw

the chocolates 😭 anyways, Iwaizumi is just the chill dude ✨ i feel like he's definitely one to not use emoji combos but to feel so...good? inside when you send him them. this guy 100% would slam the chocolates if you made him wait too long. yeah, you've been dating 6 months, but like...thats nothing in the run of things? he's so straightforward...i feel like that's miscommunication ready to happen??

suna's the kind of boyfriend where he pretends not to know your anniversary but he's secretly already ordered everything- only for the plan to be hijacked by japan's delivery system. for some reason, i headcanon that suna is so chronically online that his phone is never under 90%. you on the other hand...he gets so pissed when he's trying to talk to you and you're not answering (your phone is dead...) basically, he cares and shows it off softly 🥰

[sol-consort]

HAIII HELLO i had to just fist fight tumblr and win cus i forgot ur name but im excited cus ur blog got me into ME and i just bought mass effect legendary edition on sale n im so happy abt the fact that i will get my heart broken and maybe fuck few aliens here n there BAIII

I hope you fuck many aliens to your heart's content. I'm really happy more people are giving ME a chance because that game is hands down really, really fun. Like at its core, it's genuinely just having a good time, entertaining, funny, engaging, badass, a soap opera of action at times, but oh, so beautifully done.

Like I would've never given this game a chance because:

it's super older gen (relative to my age)

Fandom is basically dead

The og fans can get... gatekeepy and obnoxious to newcomers

But I tried the first one, not expecting shit, thinking it's another COD or boring ass fps game where. But I literally couldn't put it down even when I tried. It's so fucking fun? Interesting and loveable characters? Cool aliens and worldbuilding? Being a kickass commander? Having choices in how you approch things?

NOT TO MENTION HOW BEAUTIFUL IT IS! ALL OF THOSE PICTURES I TOOK INGAME.

I do mean ingame, as in "in the open world" and not in a cinematic cutscene. The game has an inbuilt photography mode for a reason! They know the galaxy and planets are breathtaking! The know space is beautiful! They know you'd want to stare at the cosmos in between gunshootings!

And because it's old gen, it runs perfectly even on our present low-end pcs. Hell, it runs like butter on high graphics on my steamdeck, while I can't get Veilguard beyond low textures without the game having a seizure.

I was so worried when playing it, prepared to be treated horribly ingame because I picked the femshep, I was fully convinced that I'd be forced into a typical hetro romance and accepted that grim fate. Because oh what can you do? It's an old game. It's just how things were back then.

BUT NO! IT DOESN'T DO ANY OF THAT! It's so easy to forget that someone has had to lay the first stone in this long path of progress, and Mass Effect was one of those games that pushed the boundaries of its time! Not only is femshep equally strong, stoic, and badass. But you're completely free to pursue a gay relationship from the start. Even the straight romance choice doesn't follow the cookie cutter of hurr durr men strong, women submissive. Ashley is direct and upfront about her feelings for maleshep, she is strong headed and confident, she weilds a shotgun and dashes to the frontlines.

While Kaidan is softer, more coy and elusive with his feelings for femshep. He stammers and lags in speech with "uhh" a lot. Not to mention a good representation of a character with chronic illness! I saw myself in him whenever he spoke of his chronic migraines, how it felt like a geniune part of him and not simply crossing a checklist of character traits to meet the quota of "good writing"

The game is beautiful, interesting, and vaired, but also silly and it owns that. it doesn't attempt to be genre changing deep, it's embodies the spirit of superhero comics. It's just really fun. You don't have to pay attention, you don't have to look for clues, you don't have to do anything or collect anything! Shoot things, things die, get money, talk to crewmates, spend money on pet fish, rinse and repeat. And somehow that cycle never gets stale because there is never a repeat of a mission type, stages are set in different planets with different characters, you pick the companions you take and each of them sprinkles flavour text on your merry adventure.

YOU'LL HAVE A BALL ANON! Playing it feels like what going to the amusement park felt as a kid, except this time around your parents give in and buy you that overpriced animal-shaped balloon the guy is selling next to the exit gate.

As great as the romance was, I was simply having too much fun with the interactive world to really focus on it. Oh and your past choices actually shape the world a ton! You start a fresh save in ME1, make choices, game ends, now time for ME2, and you get to directly import your ME1 Shepard into the new game and the world you created! So if someone died in ME1? They stay dead. If you romance a character, then you're still dating. If you spare some criminals or make deals with certian people, they will remember it!

The same goes for ME3, you import you ME2 savefile and it follows the story branches you chose. Every side quest, every detail of your Shepard. You leave your mark upon the world and on every person you interact with, and they remember you in return.

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

I'm in my mid 20's and I noticed last year and a half I started being very forgetful... I'm afraid it's health related. Sometimes I feel like I have dementia. I know we all forget things but I forget things multiple times per day. It's not just small things like forgetting where your keys are. Example: I could wash the dishes, go to my room and 20 minutes later I would go to the kitchen because I can't remember if I washed it or not.

I'm worried what is happening with me. I tried to keep track of how many times I forget something and I always forget more than 5, 6, 7, 8 things every day (depends).

A lot of times I would do something and in the next 5-10 minutes I would forget if I did that thing or not.

Some people say they have blackouts because it's stress related. Idk... it wasn't so bad a year and a half ago... keeps getting worse. My memory truly sucks. But I don't want to go to the doctor yet.

The thing is, there are A LOT of different conditions which can trigger or worsen memory issues, and dementia is not among the most likely. At your age especially, the culprit is far more likely to be named stress, or depression, or trauma, or ADHD, or a chronic illness that causes brainfog, or- Like we're not exactly lacking potential answers. That being said, I do recommend that you get it checked out when you can in order to rule out stuff like dementia, especially if you're really scared

[vincentsleftear]

Get To Know Your Moots

Thanks for the tag @randomfoggytiger

What the origin of your blog title? I was going through a bit of an art history phase when I first came up with it. 1) I was reallyyy into Van Gogh at the time. 2) I also knew I wanted something a bit funny/off beat. Thus, “vincentsleftear”. It’s been a while since then and I’ve moved on from the url on other platforms but I’ve kept it here. Idk, it just feels special :)

OTP(s) + ship names: ugh, where to start!! Right now Siuan and Moiraine (siuarane aka fishwives) have me in an absolute CHOKEHOLD. Of course, there’s Alicent and Rhaenyra (rhaenicent). I’ll be a Gerri and Karolina (Gerrolina) truther till I die and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think about Agatha and Rio (agathario) and NOT go crazy. If I’m remembering correctly, my first real introduction into the world of shipping was Narcissa and Lucius (Lucissa), though I don’t really interact with the source material anymore for obvious reasons. Of course, I’ll always return to the two who INVENTED the game, Mulder and Scully (MSR).

Favorite color: Love blue but if we’re looking at the evidence it’d probably be green lol. I’m surrounded by it! My phone, my computer, my headphones, my bedspread, my decor! All green! On the other hand, my friends and family are always clowning me because apparently I almost exclusively wear white. I mean, they aren’t WRONG but istg it isn’t intentional! Idk, I must be subconsciously drawn to clothes in that color lol. I’ve heard everything from “it’s like you’re a cartoon character with a signature color palette” to “…did you join a cult and not tell us?”

Favorite Game: Will yall kill me if I say Minecraft. Cause it’s Minecraft.

Song Stuck in Your Head: Sara by Fleetwood Mac!! I cannot tell you how many times I’ve listened to that song today alone lol

Weirdest habit/trait: chronic nail biter. Not exactly “weird” but it’s a bad one. Definitely should have grown out of that one a while ago smh.

Hobbies: I think I’m deep enough into the playlist making game for it to be considered a hobby at this point lol. You can pretty much track my hyoerfixations through my Spotify account bc the first thing I do when I’m enjoying a peice of media is run and make a playlist inspired by it. Right now I have 140 in total…😅. The NEXT thing I do is make a Pinterest board inspired by it lol.

If you work, what’s your profession? Full time student, part time at a library :)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Get me in the US House of Representatives!!

Something you're good at: public speaking! Not to toot my own horn but it’s definitely a strong suit and is something I actually enjoy!

Something you’re bad at: math. lying.

Something you love: Coffee!! Gay tv shows!! My siblings!! Sleep!!

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Honestly, anything lol. I’m a certified yapper. I would gladly ramble on about the plots of my favorite books/shows for agesss.

Something you hate: Sweet Potatoes! Slow walkers! Miscommunication!!

Something you collect: playlists LMAO

Something you forget: my head if it wasn’t attached to my body

What’s your love language: acts of service and quality time

Favorite movie/show: The Prince of Egypt (1998) is a cinematic masterpiece and my all time favorite. MINARI (2020) is one that I regularly recommend. If I try to list my fav shows we’ll be here all week lmao.

Favorite food: PASTA!!! Spaghetti specifically! But really any and all forms of pasta if we’re being honest here

Favorite animal: I’ve had a fascination with Orca whales ever since I was little. They are sooo interesting and incredibly intelligent and DEEPLY terrifying. The Blackfish (2013) documentary definitely left an imprint on my psyche.

What were you like as a child? Super chatty, incredibly hyper with a complete inability to sit still, and loud. I wasn’t a bad kid but it was things like this that got me into trouble at school *quite* often. In the beginning, I tried really hard to be a teacher’s pet but I found out quickly that it just wasn’t in the cards for me. So I became the class clown lol.

Favorite subject at school? I really enjoyed English and Literature but my favorites were definitely my social studies classes. History, human geography, government, politics!! Those were my thing!

Least favorite subject? MATH. Geometry was (and still is) my mortal enemy.

What’s your best character trait? always authentically myself

What’s your worst character trait? Chronic procrastinator. I tend to withdraw or getting a bit mean when I’m stressed/overwhelmed but that’s something I’m working on!

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? The weather has been soo bleak recently. No sun, just rain and cold. Also! Over the past few days my government has been repealing protections (some of which have been in place since the 60s) that prevent discrimination on the basis of race, sexuality, and gender. Consequently, as a Black gay woman, I’ve been living in a constant state of intense anxiety and panic. So. That. I’d change that.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? An aunt that passed before I was born

Recommend one of your favourite fanfics (spread the love!): Little Pitchers by dionaeamuscipula on AO3!

lowwww presssure tags 💌: @bakedbakermom @thursdayinspace @calimanc @picklejarred @ragnarockz

[awakentrashpanda]

Welcome home incorrect quotes

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Eddie Dear: Every time I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke. 
Frank Frankly: Okay, but what is updog? 
Barnaby Beagle: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish. 
Howdy Pillar: No, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released. 
Wally Darling: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden. 
Poppy Partridge: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter. 
Eddie Dear: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs. 
Howdy Pillar: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current. 
Barnaby Beagle: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway. 
Frank Frankly: What’s a henway?? 
Eddie Dear: Oh, about five pounds.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Eddie Dear: Say no to drugs. 
Barnaby Beagle: Say yes to drugs. 
Frank Frankly: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

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Barnaby Beagle: Look at the buns on that guy! 
Eddie Dear: *lying on the floor, covered in hamburger buns* 
Julie Joyful: This is the comedy police! The joke's too funny! 
Barnaby Beagle: I'm not going back to jail!

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Julie Joyful: I’m not so sure you’re stakeout material. 
Wally Darling: I’m a chronic insomniac, I was born for this.

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Barnaby Beagle, about to leave the house: Don’t spend all day painting and talking to yourself, okay? 
Wally Darling: I FORGE MY OWN PATH!!

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Howdy Pillar: Hello, I'm Howdy Pillar. I run a store now. Here to help. Look, they gave me a badge with my name on it in case I forget it. Very helpful, as that does happen.

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Sally Starlet: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

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Barnaby Beagle: Would you take a bullet for me? 
Wally Darling: ...yes? 
*Sally Starlet angrily burst into the room* 
Barnaby Beagle: *running away* Great, thanks!

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Wally Darling: State your name, species, and intention. 
Julie Joyful: Julie, rainbow monster, fun.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Barnaby Beagle: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions. 
Frank Frankly: Ridiculous. Give me some examples. 
Eddie Dear: Wasps? 
Howdy Pillar: Terriers? 
Barnaby Beagle: Wally.

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Poppy Partridge: The odds of this happening by coincidence are vanishingly small. 
Frank Frankly: I would say infinitesimally. 
Wally Darling: And I'd say teenily-weenily. We all know words.

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Wally Darling: PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT UPSEXY IS! 
Barnaby Beagle: Could you rephrase the question, in like, two words maybe?

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*Julie Joyful falls over* 
Barnaby Beagle: Julie! Are you alright? 
Julie Joyful: Is that you, God? 
Barnaby Beagle: What? 
Julie Joyful: It's just, you sound a lot more like Barnaby than I expected.

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Sally Starlet: Hey, Barnaby? Can I get some dating advice? 
Barnaby Beagle: Just because I'm with Wally doesn't mean I know how I did it.

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Wally Darling: Where’s Sally? 
Barnaby Beagle: Doing stuff. 
Wally Darling: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s Poppy? 
Barnaby Beagle: Trying to stop Sally from doing the stuff. 
Wally Darling: And Eddie? 
Barnaby Beagle: Trying to stop Poppy from stopping Sally from doing the stuff. 
Wally Darling: I see. And what are you doing here, Barnaby? 
Barnaby Beagle: I’m supposed to stop you from stopping Eddie from stopping Poppy from stopping Sally from doing the stuff.

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Frank Frankly: I’ll be famous one day, but for now I’m stuck in this neighborhood with a bunch of morons.

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Eddie Dear: Julie, what do you have? 
Julie Joyful: A KNIFE! 
Eddie Dear: Okay, have fu- 
Frank Frankly: NO!

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Barnaby Beagle: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet? 
Wally Darling: What? Like J F K W S Q X- 
Barnaby Beagle: No, like, U R A Q T. 
Wally Darling: Awwww!

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Sally Starlet: That’s the key slice of truth we need to complete the entire truth pie. 
Julie Joyful: Ooh, can we get some actual pie? 
Sally Starlet: I like the way you think.

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Frank Frankly: Do you want to be the Sun in my life?

Wally Darling: Yes.

Frank Frankly: Good, then stay 92,935,700 miles away from me :-)

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Eddie Dear: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? 
Frank Frankly: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

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Frank Frankly: I wanna die. 
Wally Darling: We all do, you aren't special!

✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️

Wally Darling: The ritual. To preform it requires a sacrifice. 
Barnaby Beagle: Sacrifice? I nominate Frank. 
Frank Frankly: Wait, what? 
Barnaby Beagle: Because you're little, you'll fit on a barbecue. 
Frank Frankly: I'm 5'9, it's like average height in most of the world! 
Wally Darling: Its not that kind of of sacrifice guys!

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Wally: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. 
Barnaby: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely* 
Wally: That one. I want that one.

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Wally: My hands are cold. 
Barnaby: Here, let me hold them. 
Wally: My lips are cold too. 
Barnaby: *covers Wally's mouth with his hand*

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Eddie: Uhh…Sally just asked if we want to… 
Eddie: “Fell the mighty before their time and display their carcasses in our homes?” 
Howdy, not even looking up from his phone: she’s asking if you wanna cut down Christmas Trees. 
Eddie: Oh, that makes more sense.

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Eddie: One time I went to hand Barnaby a bowl of soup. I wanted to say “Careful, it’s hot!”, and “Here’s your soup!”, so instead I blurted out “Careful it’s soup.”

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Jullie: What is the one thing I told you not to do? 
Sally: Burn the house down. 
Jullie: And what did you do? 
Sally: I made dinner. 
Jullie: 
Sally: 
Jullie: 
Sally: And burnt the house down.

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Eddie: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. 
Frank: *Sipping their drink after accidentally adding salt* I just like the way it tastes.

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Howdy: What are you getting Barnaby for the holidays? 
Wally: I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your partner when they already got everything they could've ever wanted when they married you. So I'm not sure yet. 
Frank: I'm getting Barnaby a divorce lawyer.

✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️

Eddie: Why doesn’t Frank find me sexy when I bite my lip? 
Poppy: What do you look like when you bite your lip? 
Eddie: *bites lip* 
Poppy: ...Have you considered biting your bottom lip instead?

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Poppy: A butterfly! Hey, little guy, gal or nonbinary pal! 
Eddie: Can a butterfly be nonbinary? 
Poppy: I mean, maybe? I don't judge. 
Frank, staring dreamily out of the window: Ah, have you ever imagine having butterfly wings? Then- 
Howdy: Then it would be inconvenient as fuck. Your wings would smack every doorframe and your clothes would have to have holes in the back. 
Sally: Also, your wing's paper thin, so even a six year old aimed a NERF gun at it would... Yeah... 
Wally: *sips coffee* According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a- 
Frank: No, nononono. You fuckers have already shattered my dream, you don't get the fucking privilege to make that reference. 
Eddie: Also, it's about a butterfly, not a bee... Why would you make that reference? 
Poppy: You clearly have not lived with them long enough.

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[orangeprotogen]

I say this all the time but conservatives and transphobes and the like are literally the only people who have the whole "But what if-" problems with pronouns. "Oh so if someone wants me to call them 'god' i just have to call them that?" name ONE person who has asked you to call them god. I know a lot of people, I've seen a lot more people than I've met, I'm chronically online for christs sake. I have yet to meet or see one person who does that. And the fact that so many of them use strawman arguments like this all the time means that we have to point it out all the time. It gets to the point where "Strawman" loses it's meaning and the conservatives don't take it literally anymore, they forget why we keep calling it that. Because that's what it is. I tried explaining to my mother about pronouns once, which was difficult for sure because she's one of those "Keep an open mind! Not me though, I'll never consider your side of the argument because Ben Shapiro told me that's what liberals do" types of conservatives. Anyway, she pulls out the whole "So what, if some random person at a convenience store happens to want to be called 'master' all the time, I have to just call them that?" and like...mother...no. You don't know that person so 1, you're not going to interact with them 2, you can just walk away if you don't like it 3, nobody has that as their neopronoun and if they do i guarantee you they don't force it onto randoms at the store because they know just as well as you should that you two are never going to meet again! Anyway, back on topic, terfs and conservatives also like to call us "Obsessed" because we want to explain simple fucking 3rd grader concepts to legal adults rather than leave them blind. WE'RE obsessed, apparently. Yeah, I've never seen anyone more obsessed with anything than Conservatives / Terfs are obsessed with trans people and pronouns. Genuinely. I have multiple autistic friends, my sibling is also autistic. They all have their interests and obsession, hyperfixations, the like. For my sibling, it's tanks. They've L O V E D tanks and tank related things their whole life! They have like over 3000 hours on War Thunder purely because they like the tanks. They've spent hundreds of dollars on tank figurines and....well, you get the point. But you know what they haven't done? Start a podcast about how much they like tanks, while talking about them 24/7. They aren't going on the internet to rant about tanks, or going up to random people and saying "Well clearly you don't know how tanks work" when tanks weren't part of the conversations. They don't randomly insult someone else or insinuate that the person is inferior because of their lack of tank info. They don't vote for people purely because the person likes tanks. They LOVE tanks, but they're not an asshole and they're not stupid. You know who DOES do all those things? Conservatives and terfs. Just replace "Tanks" with "Trans people". I haven't heard a single Ben Shapiro episode (I hear a lot of them, my parents are binge-listeners) that didn't mention trans people. That man is a walking Cognito hazard because he makes my brain rot with how much he talks about trans people. I'm literally trans and i don't even talk about it that much.

[sockori]

shmupdate 🧦

very long, hastily written, but a look is appreciated

greetings- to those who are somehow still lingering around this account or came up upon it during my desolate time off. it is sock. or sockori.... or raven... my name is actually raven (they/it, 20 yo disabled autistic goth nerd whatever the fuck). howdy

im still on the 'undetermined hiatus' so to speak that i described in my leaving post, but i will say right now that i have no near future plans on returning. in the tags on my newest art, i mentioned my naruto hyperfixation (of like. 6 years i think) finally died out and other interests have long since captured my autism full force. for me personally, when i lose a special interest like this so drastically, i just full on abandon it for as long as it stands. however, this isn't the only thing that made me leave, and i think its time for me to be completely honest & get some weight off my chest.

i made this account around the cusp of turning 14, during a god awful pubescent era where i acted as any other edgy teen does and i'd much rather like to forget these days. what im saying is i was not in the right mindset at all when i exposed myself that much & got the attention that i did. a dismayingly giant coping mechanism i had in my youth was being online 24/7 because i had no one in reality to lean on let alone feel comfortable talking to about anything that was happening at that time. this of course leads to what the kids call these days being 'chronically online'- desperate for some sort of assurance or interaction, i crawled into internet spaces i shouldn't have been for an also incredibly unsupervised child using the dangerous worldwide web.

yes, naruto was apart of this, as well as other interests i had at the time. throughout my journey i met unsavory people, suffered abhorrent things like stalking & gr---ming, saw things i didn't deserve to see, did a bunch of stupid shit an angsty teen does, i believe you understand the rest. i am in no way proud or gleeful about any of these years and have some very sour memories tied to fandom as a whole, not just naruto, and i really don't like reflecting on them. so, unfortunately, this account sorta became a bitter reminder of what i went through as i grew up & finally matured and sought to recover. that's the first part of why my activity fizzled away & i began backing off from internet use entirely.

the second part is sasori. yes, the puppet man. sorta the sole reason i made sockori in the first place. as the sasori enjoyers following / who followed know, this puppeteer has an incredibly unhealthy philosophy and worldview (if the carefully preserved corpses turned puppets and complete lack of humanity didn't give that away), and is safe to say entirely detached from his reality to a nhilistic and suicidal extent. when you autistically fixate on a character like how i did, sometimes this character's rhetoric can seep into your own without you even realizing; Especially when you're a spot where you are incredibly vulnerable and psychologically unstable, as i was in my youth. now i didn't go around believing you should uhhh murder people and preserve them Obviously- actually i began to believe that perhaps there was some peace in obtaining a robotic existence. maybe emotions were useless, perhaps nothing truly mattered, my life didn't matter, art in eternal in the sense that death is scary and i should avoid it at all costs, why make connections with people when they just die or leave, cant trust people at all to help me, xyz. anything in these lines. without going too uncomfortably deep for everyone's sake and mine, it fucked me up severely. i suppose in a way it relates to how he uses poison. his toxins got right into my nervous system, but the pain i felt from those toxins was the only thing i could really rely on at the time, so i just let it happen. such is the depressing case of coping in the worst spot of your life.

cant help but feel incredibly strange telling the tale, as it sounds so obscure doesn't it, but media can truly get inside your psyche like this if a consumer isn't careful. not sure if anyone else out there fell into a similar headspace dealing with interests in this nature- but regardless. what i mean to say is, sasori is now a kind of content i cant consume anymore. i am in a way better place now, have grown wise and balanced with careful recovery and patience, and of course have grown out of whatever teenage nonsense i was on. sasori, who was once the only thing my autistic traumatized ass could lean on, is now an extremely dark shadow on my life. yes i see this homicidal anime puppet dude from a fantasy ninja anime and get psychological distress. he's somewhat of an aggressor or abuser to me now, which is tragic. ive been actively avoiding everything even vaguely relating to him, be it the art of puppetry, anime clips, robotic/sci-fi genre, whatnot cause i just. man. i dont wanna go back there. shouldn't have to explain why at this point. ptsd at its finest

feel like ive been honest enough. sasori enjoyers out there who were just around to enjoy what i made, anyone i happened to be good friends with during my time on this account, this doesn't have anything to do with you guys. i appreciate everyone dearly for supporting me and cheering me on in whatever i made despite all the hell & anguish that was taking place beyond the keyboard. im just glad that i managed to find some way out and get the help i need before i gave up & took my own life, which depressingly i almost did a handful of times. carrying the horrors is an exhausting burden to bare sometimes, but that does not mean i can't look back on the good parts of the era too. and seeing you all happy and sharing my memes or whatever made me ecstatic and at least a little bit hopeful for the future. fortunately that little spark of hope grew into something more. thanks for being a light in a very, very dark room.

that being said, i leave you all with this: i am not dead, just greatly changed, a new person at last freed from apathy & exhaustion, with now enough room to finally grow. the memories will never truly fade & my disabilities will be a part of me until i pass on, but at least now i can manage them a lot better than ever before, surrounded by way better people who love me for who i am. i will hang on the best i can. i wish for you to do the same. find freedom and happiness wherever you are. take care. happy trails

trans rights. i eat fascist souls. free palestine

[kelsikriitmaa]

How to Set Boundaries and Avoid Burnout as a Social Impact Consultan

You got into this work because you care- about people, communities, justice, systems, and change. You know how powerful mission-driven consulting could turn out to be. You have helped organizations grow, scale, reflect, and rebuild. However, your calendar filled up along the way. Your evenings disappeared. Your weekends are blurred with work. The passion that once sparked everything is sitting next to a growing pile of unfinished to-do's and chronic exhaustion. 

Burnout in the social impact space is not just about overwork. It is about over-caring without adequate boundaries. It is about absorbing the urgency of your clients, the weight of the issues, as well as the pressure to always get more done. 

This article will talk about how to shift that. Because yes, you can do meaningful work and still protect your energy. You can be a powerful consultant and have a life outside of client calls. It starts with boundaries. 

Let go of the guilt.

For many social impact consultants, boundaries feel tricky. 

You are not just managing projects, you are helping causes that matter. Saying no, limiting your hours, or pushing back can feel selfish, or worse, like letting people down.

You can't support others if you're constantly depleted. 

Boundaries are not barriers to impact. They are the structures that sustain it. So if you have been running on fumes, you need to pause and not feel guilty for it.

What Boundaries Look Like

Boundaries do not mean becoming unavailable or rigid. They just mean being clear with yourself and your clients. It is about knowing how you work best. 

The good news is that I knew habits can be changed. It takes practice and time to switch a habit, but it is undoubtedly worth it. The development and maintenance of a habit of setting boundaries is the single most powerful way I know to bring your life back to the proportions you want. For consultants just starting, this is the best time to set boundaries because you will teach your colleagues and clients how you do and don't operate from the very beginning. That is easier than trying to retrain them later.

Name what you value

Before setting boundaries, get clear on what you are protecting. We only defend what we truly value, whether it is time with family or simply peace of mind. Writing it down and speaking it aloud helps anchor values so you do not forget them when it matters most. Every 'yes' could also be a 'no' to something else. 

Be the boss of your choices!

If you do not protect your boundaries, no one else will. Learning to pause before automatically agreeing to something is powerful. Ask yourself what you want. Owning your choices is how you step into your power and stop living on autopilot. 

Watch Yourself

Your habits reveal your hidden motivations. You might say yes to please others or because you fear letting people down. But every unconscious ‘yes’ costs you something else- your time, your energy, your joy. Awareness is the first step to reclaiming your choices.

Specific> General Boundaries

Vague boundaries are easy to ignore. Saying “I don’t miss my kid’s soccer games” is more actionable and defensible, than “I want more family time.” Specificity transforms intention into practice, making it easier to live by what you value.

Weigh your Boundaries

Not all boundaries are created equal. Sacred ones are non-negotiable. Firm ones should rarely be bent. Knowing the difference gives you clarity and helps others understand where the line truly is.

Say it, but don't oversay it

Your boundaries don’t need a defense case. Say them simply and directly: “I’m not available Friday.” That’s enough. Over-explaining invites debate. You don’t need permission to protect your time or peace.

Plan for your Weakness

Know where you're likely to cave. Is it hard to say no to clients? To protect your downtime? Anticipate the challenge and plan your response. And if you slip up, don't shame yourself; learn from it and try again.

Trust Your Gut

If something feels off, trust that feeling. Whether someone is knowingly pushing or simply unaware, it’s still a boundary being nudged. You don’t need proof or permission to stand your ground.

So Now, What Are Some Boundaries in Consulting?

Time and Availability

Define your working hours, and stick to them. Block out ‘deep work’ time when you are available for meetings or messages. Communicate when you are offline (and don’t apologize for it).

Scope and Expectations

Be specific in your contracts about what is included (and what is not). You could use phrases like "That is outside the current scope. I'm happy to explore an additional proposal for it." Do not simply assume that clients will know your limits; spell them out early and often.

Communication

Set expectations around how you prefer to communicate. Do not feel pressured to be instantly responsive.

Choose one platform for work messages; no one would like to check Slack, WhatsApp, email, or text.

Emotional Labor

This one's subtle but real. Social impact work often comes with intensity, especially if your clients are dealing with trauma, injustice, or burnout themselves. Ask yourself- "What emotional weight am I carrying that isn't mine?" Set internal boundaries; what energy will you give, and what will you let go of at the end of the day? Create rituals for transition: a walk after work, journaling, meditation, or saying to yourself, “I’ve done what I can today.”

What Will Happen if You Do Not Set Boundaries as a Social Impact Coach?

We don’t set boundaries until we have to. But waiting for burnout to force your hand? That’s a rough road.

Here’s what a lack of boundaries can look like-

Saying yes to every request because you're afraid of disappointing people

Letting work bleed into evenings and weekends because "it's just one more email."

Taking on emotionally heavy client issues without support

Feeling resentful, depleted, or checked out, even though you love the work.

How To Start Small?

Significant shifts take time. You do not need a total life overhaul. You could start with a small boundary and build from there. Boundaries are a practice, not a one-time event.

Boundaries Create Space for Better Work.

Boundaries don’t make you less available. They make you more sustainable.

You show up more fully for the work that matters.

You serve your clients without losing yourself in the process.

You have time and energy for your ideas, relationships, and rest.

You begin to trust yourself to protect your peace.

You Deserve To Thrive-Not Serve. 

If you're feeling the edge of burnout creeping in, it’s not because you’re weak. It's because you've been giving a lot, likely for a long time.

It's time to shift from survival mode to sustainable impact.And if you're not sure where to begin? Coaching can help. You don't have to navigate burnout or boundary-setting alone. Reconnect to your values, your capacity, and your 'why' without losing your well-being in the process. You deserve a career that supports you, too.

[gratefulearth]

How Lion’s Mane Coffee Enhances Brain Health: What You Need to Know

In today’s fast-paced world, maintaining mental clarity and focus can often feel like a daily challenge. Whether you're dealing with memory lapses, brain fog, or the constant pull of anxiety, these issues can seriously impact your quality of life. But what if there was a way to naturally support your brain health while enjoying your morning coffee? Enter Lion’s Mane Coffee—a brain-boosting brew that’s gaining popularity among health-conscious individuals for its potential to enhance cognitive function and long-term brain health.

Understanding Lion’s Mane Mushrooms and Brain Health

Lion’s Mane mushrooms (Hericium erinaceus) have long been used in traditional medicine, particularly in Asia, where they are praised for their ability to support mental well-being. The secret behind their brain-enhancing benefits lies in their unique compounds, particularly their ability to promote the production of nerve growth factor (NGF).

NGF plays a crucial role in the development, maintenance, and survival of neurons—nerve cells that transmit information throughout the brain and body. By supporting NGF production, Lion’s Mane mushrooms help protect the brain’s neural network, promote regeneration, and prevent age-related cognitive decline.

How Lion’s Mane Coffee Can Help with Memory, Focus, and Anxiety

One of the main appeals of Lion’s Mane coffee is its potential to combat issues like memory loss, mental fog, and anxiety—three pain points that often go hand in hand with stress, aging, and modern lifestyles.

1. Memory Loss

Memory issues can range from simple forgetfulness to more severe cognitive impairments as we age. Lion’s Mane mushrooms have been shown in several studies to improve memory and learning abilities. By supporting neuroplasticity (the brain’s ability to form and reorganize synaptic connections), Lion’s Mane can help improve both short-term and long-term memory. For those who notice themselves forgetting names, dates, or tasks more often, incorporating Lion’s Mane coffee into a daily routine may offer a natural, preventive solution.

2. Mental Fog

Have you ever sat down to work and found yourself unable to focus, even after a good night’s sleep? Mental fog is a common complaint, often attributed to stress, lack of sleep, or nutritional deficiencies. The compounds in Lion’s Mane mushrooms stimulate brain cell growth, leading to better cognitive performance, increased focus, and clearer thinking. By sipping on Lion’s Mane coffee, you may find it easier to concentrate on tasks, think more sharply, and make decisions with greater ease.

3. Anxiety

Chronic anxiety can wreak havoc on your mental and physical health. Lion’s Mane coffee offers a natural way to soothe frazzled nerves. Studies suggest that Lion’s Mane mushrooms help reduce feelings of anxiety by modulating the levels of certain neurotransmitters, including serotonin and dopamine, which are key players in mood regulation. If you’re someone who deals with stress on a regular basis, switching to a brain-supporting brew like Lion’s Mane coffee can help you feel more centered and calm.

Lion’s Mane Coffee as a Preventive Measure for Long-Term Brain Function

The long-term benefits of Lion’s Mane coffee go beyond temporary relief from memory lapses or mental fog. Regular consumption of this mushroom-infused brew has been shown to protect against age-related neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. By promoting the production of NGF, Lion’s Mane coffee supports the regeneration of damaged nerve cells, helping to delay or prevent the onset of cognitive decline.

For individuals who are concerned about preserving their mental sharpness as they grow older, incorporating Lion’s Mane coffee into their daily routine may be a proactive step toward safeguarding brain health.

Why Choose Grateful Earth Coffee?

When it comes to choosing the right Lion’s Mane coffee, not all options are created equal. Quality matters, and Grateful Earth Coffee is a brand that prioritizes both the efficacy and flavor of its products. Grateful Earth Coffee combines premium coffee beans with high-quality Lion’s Mane extract to create a delicious, brain-boosting brew that seamlessly fits into your daily routine. Whether you're looking to enhance mental clarity or prevent cognitive decline, Grateful Earth Coffee offers a balanced and convenient option to support your brain health naturally.

Lion’s Mane and Chaga: A Powerful Duo

Many Lion’s Mane coffee blends, including those from Grateful Earth Coffee, are enriched with additional medicinal mushrooms, like Chaga Coffee. Chaga mushrooms are known for their antioxidant properties, which can help reduce inflammation, support the immune system, and further protect brain cells from oxidative damage. Combining Lion’s Mane and Chaga in your daily coffee provides a double benefit for both brain function and overall well-being.

By pairing these mushrooms, you’re not just giving your brain a boost but also supporting your body’s immune response, making this coffee blend a powerhouse for holistic health.

What to Look for in a Lion’s Mane Coffee Blend

If you’re ready to make the switch to brain-enhancing coffee, here are a few key factors to consider when choosing a Lion’s Mane coffee blend:

Quality of the Coffee Beans: Make sure the blend uses high-quality, ethically sourced coffee beans. This will ensure that you’re not compromising on taste while boosting brain function.

Potency of Mushroom Extracts: Check the potency of the Lion’s Mane and Chaga extracts. A higher concentration of these mushrooms will deliver stronger brain health benefits.

Third-Party Testing: Look for brands like Grateful Earth Coffee that have their products third-party tested for purity and potency, so you can trust that you’re getting a clean and effective product.

FAQs

1. What are the benefits of drinking Lion’s Mane coffee?Lion’s Mane coffee can enhance memory, reduce brain fog, and lower anxiety. It also supports long-term brain health by promoting nerve growth and preventing cognitive decline.

2. Is Lion’s Mane coffee safe to drink every day?Yes, Lion’s Mane coffee is generally safe for daily consumption. Its natural compounds support brain health without causing jitters or crashes, making it an excellent alternative to regular coffee.

3. How does Lion’s Mane coffee compare to Chaga coffee?Lion’s Mane and Chaga both offer unique benefits. While Lion’s Mane focuses on brain health, Chaga supports the immune system and reduces inflammation. Many blends, like those from Grateful Earth Coffee, combine the two for a well-rounded health boost.

4. Can Lion’s Mane coffee help with Alzheimer’s disease?While Lion’s Mane coffee is not a cure for Alzheimer’s, studies show it may help delay cognitive decline and protect brain cells, making it a preventive measure for those concerned about neurodegenerative diseases.

5. Where can I buy high-quality Lion’s Mane coffee?Grateful Earth Coffee offers high-quality Lion’s Mane coffee blends that are both delicious and effective for boosting brain health.

Is Lion’s Mane Coffee Right for You?

If you’re looking for a natural way to support brain function, combat anxiety, and enhance mental clarity, Lion’s Mane coffee could be a great addition to your daily routine. With its unique ability to promote nerve growth and protect against cognitive decline, it’s a smart choice for anyone invested in long-term brain health. So, will you give your brain the boost it needs with a cup of Lion’s Mane coffee?

[dannythedog]

Collage by @stardust-chords-enthusiast

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x fem!reader

Word Count: 11.1k

Summary: You've grown up with Sam Kiszka as a best friend. As the two of you get older, you realize your feelings may be morphing into something more. What will happen when Sam finally invites you to the annual Kiszka lake trip where a string of crimes have taken place?

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, alcohol consumption, swearing, body image issues, talk of death

A/N: I just want to thank @gretavanfran for encouraging me to run with this idea and offering to help me write. We've never written something like this before so we're a little nervous to post this lol but feedback is appreciated and let us know if you want a part two!! We have so many more ideas for where this can go and would love to share with you guys

_

“Let’s go!” Sam calls from the front door of your house. The patience in his voice is wearing thin and it makes you zip your bag faster, accidentally pinching the skin of your forefinger. It’s time for the annual lake trip the Kiszka family takes at the beginning of summer. Sam usually opted to take his other best friend Danny, leaving no room for you, but this year there was an extra space. You’ve known Sam since seventh grade, the both of you meeting on the junior debate team. He was the only student who actually challenged you and he liked your passion, so you two quickly became inseparable.  

Heaving your duffle up, you rush to the door. “Sorry,” you breathe. “Just had to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”.

 “Yeah, yeah, just give me the bag so we can get going.” Reaching for the bag on your shoulder, Sam lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Wait, Sam, I ha-,” you were quickly interrupted by the long haired man.

“I already checked the back door, walked through the house and unplugged everything. Bug, everything’s going to be okay. Learn how to relax a little, alright?” 

“I’m always relaxed,” you mumble in a grumpy tone. 

“Oh really? When’s the last time you genuinely had fun without having to worry about anything?” He got you there, you were always anxious - anxiety was practically your name and overthinking was your game. You couldn’t help but think about if everything was going to plan, constantly worrying about safety. Except for when you're with a certain golden retriever boy. Sammy. He was fearless and lived life without a care in the world, that’s why you believed that you two quickly became friends. Opposites attract after all - he made the overthinking disappear in you and you made him pay more attention to the things that surrounded him.

After tossing the bag into the back seat of his beat up Jeep Cherokee where his own luggage rests, he clambers into the driver’s spot. “My mom’s gonna be so mad if we’re super late. She only agreed to let me drive as long as I was semi on time.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve let me drive,” you tease. The entire Kiszka family had a bad habit of being late, something that irked you to your core. Turning your head to look at the man in the driver seat, you watch in amusement as he lets out a scoff, throwing the car in reverse. He places an arm on your seat and checks for traffic both ways before entering the road.

“What, so we could be there four hours early? Leave at six am? No thanks, I’d rather sleep.”

“You know, backing into a main street is illegal right?” Now turning to face you, Sam dramatically rolls his eyes and flashes you that beaming smile of his.

“Bug, I want you to relax on this vacation. Mommy and Daddy won't be there to make sure you dot your I’s and cross your T’s.” 

As much as you hated to admit it- Sam was right. It’s been forever since you’ve actually relaxed. On top of your chronic over thinking - your parents watched you like a hawk. They always told you the strictness was because they wanted you to get into a top of the line college. Ever since you got the acceptance letter from the University of Michigan, you were expecting them to ease up. Wrong - if anything they tightened the reins more. Even though you were eighteen and freshly graduated high school, you had to practically get on your hands and knees begging them to allow you to accompany Sam all while reassuring them a million times that Sam’s parents were going to be there. 

“I am relaxed. Let’s get going. You know we'll never hear the end of us being late from Jake,” you breathe out, crossing your arms across your chest. As if his smile couldn’t get any bigger, it was practically ear to ear as he watched you slowly come to the realization he was right. 

“Aye aye, Captain. No more funny business. Wouldn’t want to keep Jacob waiting,” he replies to you in a teasing tone, while throwing the car into drive.

A warm breeze pours through the windows as the journey starts. It rustles the haphazardly placed locks on Sam’s head, a messy bun being his go to for the summer, and it somehow manages to make him look softer. Your eyes trail down to his plump lips, only landing there briefly before moving onto his outfit. He dons a denim button up that only has the bottom few buttons done, a pretty tiger’s eye pendant resting on the exposed skin of his chest, a pair of the tiniest khaki shorts you’ve ever seen, and of course his trusty Birkenstocks. While his outfit was casual, it still made you feel a little frumpy. You just wore a pair of black biker shorts and a tie-dye shirt, two sizes too big, with some black Tevas. 

“So why couldn’t Danny go this year? Not that I’m complaining, I’m really happy to be invited.”

His brown eyes glance over to you for a moment, lips forming into a small frown. “His family planned their own vacation. It’s kind of ass that I’ve never invited you before, huh? I’m sorry that I’m an idiot.”

You wave him off, trying to play it like you never felt an ache in your chest when you watched the family drive off every year. “I get it, it’s a boys thing. No biggie.”

He still looks guilty despite your casual reassurance, but doesn’t press any further. Sam really did feel bad that he never invited you before. He wasn’t sure if you would like hanging out with him and his family for a week straight, emphasis on his brothers. His older twin siblings could be a lot sometimes. Josh was a little over-friendly and Jake could be too cold. Inviting anyone on vacation was asking for trouble - especially a girl and most definitely if that girl was you. The twins have known you for just as long as their little brother had. But Sam knew that they wouldn’t let up on the teasing - it would be relentless.

 Unbeknownst to you, they would wait until you left the room or have your back turned and would always make kissy faces at the younger boy - mocking him about how in love he was with you and how you were his ‘little secret girlfriend’.  Sam could take the teasing one day at a time, but he felt like a whole week’s worth of teasing would be too much for him to handle. So, he always opted to bring Danny. Plus, he wanted you all to himself, but no one had to know that.

“Hey, you know what I brought?” He grins a little too widely. “Check my backpack. The small pocket in the front.”  

You reach into the back, very obvious suspicion settling across your face. Pulling his beat up tie-dye bag into the front with care was not an easy feat. It was stuffed full and piled under a bunch of other luggage. With just a bit of grumbling, you dig into that small pocket and pull out a baggie filled with joints.

 “Sam!” you hiss. “Did you forget your parents are going to be with us?”

He reaches over and gives your arm a gentle shove. “See? This is what I was talking about earlier. You never have fun without worrying about everything.”

 “I’m sorry,” you sigh and put the baggie back. “You’re totally right. I don’t know why I got weird about it.”

Your face flushes and you feel embarrassed. He was right. Why couldn’t you let loose and just enjoy this time being close with Sam? Don’t ruin this for yourself. 

“Hey,” he says softly, that same frown from earlier returning.

“No, it’s okay. You are right. It’s not often I’ll admit that, so take it while you can,” you grin.

The few hour drive is peaceful, filled with laughter and good music. Sam never fails to keep you entertained. That was another checkmark on the long list of things you adore about him. You weren’t sure how Sam didn’t realize you were falling for him. You didn’t try to make it obvious, but you figured he would at least see the little things - the way you’d always make sure to have his favorite snacks around, wake up at absurd hours to make Walmart trips, how you’d do just about anything he asked. Honestly, you’d probably follow this man to the depths of hell if he asked you to.   

“Where are we?” you garble, not noticing that you drifted off at some point, finally waking when Sam turns onto a rather bumpy back road.

“About five minutes from the house. Our place is in a pretty secluded spot, not many neighbors.”

The road is covered with rocks and potholes, making it impossible for your bodies to stay still, rocking side to side with each bump and sway of the vehicle. Lush trees fill the spaces on either side of the road and overtake your senses. It’s hard to see through the thick greenness of the vegetation, but it’s beautiful and makes everything feel so serene. Like you weren’t still in your home state of Michigan. The trees began to thin the closer you got to the house, opening to a small clearing with a great view of the sparkling lake. You could see an expanse of sandy beaches spread out at the back of the property with a hole dug out near the house as a makeshift fire pit.  There’s a small dock a bit further down with an old rowboat attached to it, gently bobbing in the mild waves. 

Sam parks his Cherokee next to the family’s Suburban and shoots you an excited smile. “Ready for the chaos?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you scrunch your nose at him. 

The both of you pull yourselves from the car to collect your bags. The thick summer air soothes the goosebumps that formed from the air conditioning that Sam insisted on blasting. He claimed the AC barely worked at the lake house. 

“OI!” a voice rings from above you, disrupting the gentle call of some sparrows. Your eyes flick up to see the long haired twin  leaning dangerously over the railing of a balcony. 

“It’s about time you made it!” Jake spins around and heads back inside before either of you can answer. Your eyes trail from the balcony to take in the rest of the house. It’s a moderately sized cabin-esque looking building with sloping green roofs that match the color of the doors and window frames. The rustic vibe is a little cheesy and slightly outdated, but it’s welcoming. 

“Hi, Bug,” Jake grins when he emerges from the front door. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

 You think you can hear Sam grumbling about how that’s his nickname for you, but you ignore it. 

“C’mon inside. We saved a room for you two.” Jake takes the bag off your arm and offers a side hug, giving you a gentle squeeze. 

You flush at the thought of sharing a room and possibly a bed with Sam - you hadn’t considered that when you agreed to come along. His parents were pretty lenient but you figured you’d be sleeping on one of the couches. 

The house offers reprieve from the unforgiving sun. Despite being quite cold only minutes ago, you can feel a bead of sweat trickle down the back of your neck. The inside isn’t as cheesy as you thought it would be. There were picture frames hung up along the walls, displaying memories from previous trips. One of young Sam catches your eye and brings a small smile to your face. He’s submerged in the lake with a bright orange life jacket on that looks like it could strangle him at any moment, smiling widely with little gaps in his teeth. 

“We’re here!” Sam calls out and ventures towards the bedrooms. 

Just like clockwork, the shorter twin pops his head into the hallway. “This one is your room.” 

The three of you meander to the room Josh was currently in, only half wondering why he was in your room anyways. 

“Shut up!” Sam gasps and almost drops his bag, trying to think of something else to say but his mouth just hangs open. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see the twins beaming - not wanting to be left out, you poke your head into the room and see a lanky, curly haired man lounging across the queen sized mattress. 

“Hey, guys,” Danny says with a shit eating grin. “Heard you might have extra room.”

Finally over the shock of seeing his best friend, Sam turns to his brothers with confusion written all over his face.

“Mom and Dad didn’t come this year. They figured since we’re ‘all grown up’ that we’d want a week here alone. We coordinated the Danny part just because it was fun,” Jake speaks nonchalantly. 

Sam simply can’t contain his excitement any longer and bounces on his best friend, rambling on about how much fun they’re going to have.

“That was sweet of you guys,” you murmur to Jake, watching as his face twinges pink. He simply shrugs and sets your bags near the dresser. Once the enthusiasm calms a bit, the other three clear out of the room to let you and Sam unpack. Your eyes travel over to the queen sized bed over and over, worry settling deep into your chest.

You clear your throat. “I can take the couch if you want. Or I could see if maybe Danny wanted to switch rooms.”

Sam doesn’t even look up from putting his shirts into a drawer as he chuckles a bit. “Why would you do that?”

Your face scrunches in embarrassment. You’re not sure why you’re embarrassed about this discussion. It’s just Sam. Just your best friend who you are hopelessly falling for and now have to share a bed with. Not a big deal at all.

“Just wanted to give you options, that’s all,” you say a little too defensively, praying that he couldn’t see the pink blush starting to cover your face. 

“I think you’re trying to get away from me. I can’t stop you from taking the couch, but I promise I really don’t mind if you sleep with me. In fact, I think I’d like it if you joined me.” Sam flashes you a smile as he finishes unpacking. With that he walks out of the room, leaving you to internally panic about what his words could possibly imply. Was he just flirting with you? Or perhaps it was just your feelings muddying his statement.

Fingers tug on the hem of your shirt, startling you out of your panicked daze. It’s Jake inquiring if you’ll come out to swim with everyone since it’s ‘hot as balls outside.’ Not giving you an option to say no - or to even give him an answer, he makes his way over to the door and slams it shut. Rolling your eyes at the loud noise, you head over to your bags, silently thankful you brought your good bikini.  Lifting up your shirt in hopes of changing into the swimwear sooner than later, you found yourself being interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Startled by the intruder, you whip around at a lightning speed to find Sam and Danny casually standing in the doorway. 

“Don’t you guys know how to knock?” you huff out at the boys. 

“Sorry, we didn’t expect you to be changing already. Sammy boy just needs to grab his trunks,” Danny speaks softly, shooting you an apologetic smile as he makes his way into the room sitting down on the bed. Sam, on the other hand, seemed to be frozen in his spot. Geez, what is up with him today. 

“You going to come in or are you going to keep standing there like a creep?” Danny chuckles out at Sam. It worked. You watch Sam as he keeps his eyes on the floor, heading over to the dresser, reaching in one of the drawers and pulling out his favorite pair of red bottoms. 

“I…Sorry. C’mon Danny. Let’s go downstairs.” Sam ignores your eye contact and walks over to the long haired curly man sitting on the bed, pulling him by his shirt sleeve over to the door and making sure to close it. 

Deciding not to think about the way Sam was acting, you quickly change into the baby blue and white floral print bikini. Standing in front of the mirror, you take a second to study your reflection. This swimsuit was new and if you were being honest with yourself, you were absolutely terrified to bring it at first. After all, this was supposed to be a ‘family trip’ and you didn’t want to have Sam’s parents look at you in an ill mannered light. Why would they? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact your boobs were practically spilling out of the cups and the bottoms are leaving little to the imagination. 

You couldn’t help but to have some insecurities cross your mind when you thought about if Sam would like this specific suit on you. Sure, you’ve been around him countless times in the water, but you always wore a one piece. After graduating high school, you felt yourself trying to be a little more bold in your outfit choices. Not to mention that Sam always likes his girls to be on the skinnier side and you just so happened to be a little bit more curvy.  Fuck it, what do you have to lose. You trot down the stairs, slowly building up more and more courage to walk out to the lake where you could see the four boys splashing around through the window.  

“Ooh mama! Looking good!” Josh yells as you approach the lake, making the other  three boys turn around to take a glance at your form.  

Their watchful eyes make you feel bashful, especially after Sam’s weird reaction in the bedroom. You try to fight the urge to cover your body up but it’s slowly winning. Every dip, bump, and stretch mark suddenly feels like a neon sign that reads, ‘Look at me! I’m insecure!’. Feeling defeated, you grab your towel and begin to wrap it around your torso as walk slowly to the beach.

The sun’s rays are vicious. Sweat is already beading at your brow and the tops of your shoulders feel hot. A small breeze ripples through the trees and gently caresses over your heating skin, giving slight relief. 

“Put your towel down! Get in!” Danny calls out as he splashes water at an unsuspecting Jake. This earns him a punch to the shoulder and a small grumble.

You hesitate, insecurities still running wildly through your mind. What if they laughed at you? What if Sam was disgusted by your flaws? You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle that. 

“Hey, let me see you,” Josh encourages. “I’ve never seen that bathing suit on you before. Is it new? Do a little twirl for me!”

“It’s just a bathing suit,” Sam bites at his older brother. This makes you clutch your towel tighter to your body and cast your eyes to the sand. You knew it. Sam thinks you look hideous. 

Watching the boys in front of you - you couldn’t possibly think of actually going into the water and exposing yourself to them. You know that Sam takes after his older brothers when it comes to finding his type in women. 

Plopping down into the grass and giggling to yourself, you watch as Josh rolls his eyes and smacks the back of his younger brother’s head.

Trudging through the shallow water in your direction, he lifts his chin as a beckoning gesture. “C’mon, Bug. Get in the water.” Your knuckles were practically white from how hard you were gripping the towel now that Josh was stalking through the sand.

“Josh, I don’t feel like it.” 

“I will carry you in there if I have to.” 

“You and I both know that’s not a possibility,” you spit out at him, trying not to let your insecurities show. Instead of replying, Josh moves even closer to you and starts looking like he was trying to figure out where to place his hands to hoist you up. 

“No. No. No. Stop right there,” you protest. 

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you. Just come into the water.” Josh looks to you with pleading eyes. Fuck those, baby cow eyes get you everytime. Reluctantly nodding your head, you get up - but not without making sure the only thing keeping your sanity was wrapped around you securely. 

“You won’t need that in the water,” Josh hums at you as he takes your hand in his, leading you over to the dock. 

“I know. I just want to leave it on the dock.” He looks like he doesn’t want to believe you at first, eyeing you suspiciously, but ultimately choosing to drop the issue at hand. 

While you’re distracted with Josh, Sam’s eyes are glued to the two of you. What the hell is he doing? Why are his hands on her like that? Sam didn’t care that you were friendly with his brothers. He actually loves that you get along with them, but his fear was steadily coming to fruition. You were his person and his brothers seemed to have no problem robbing you from him just as they did with Daniel. 

As he watches you sit on the edge of the dock he hopes and prays you’ll look at him, but only sees your eyes follow Josh’s form into the water. His chest tightens when Josh grabs your legs. “What are you doing?” you panic slightly. The older twin simply gives you his widest smile before pulling you into the depths. 

The lake is colder than you expect it to be and it shocks the air from your lungs. It’s a good few seconds before you can let out a screech at Josh. He clutches you tightly to him, not caring that you’re desperately grabbing at the sopping fabric of your security blanket as it drifts away with each of his movements. “See? Not that bad, huh?”

He was right. Being submerged covered you in a way and it felt nice to cool off. “Okay,” you break. “It’s not horrible, but you’re a real dick for pulling me in.”

Sam can’t stand seeing his older brother’s hands on you. They way they hold you so delicately. It feels far too intimate to Sam. There’s this horrible clawing in his stomach that pulls him to the shore and up to a grassy area, listening to your giggles as you splash around. Having fun without him.

Your eyes finally drift over to Sam when you notice him get out. Water droplets cascade over his tan skin like rivulets and his thin frame is stretched out to soak up the sun. He’s completely in his element. You think he looks most beautiful like this. Sam has always loved nature - he begs you to come on mini hikes that turn into impromptu picnics of trail mix and granola bars, long trips to the beach where you spend your day swimming and kayaking, hell, he even loves it if you just come lay in his hammock with him.

“Alright! Me and Danny will be partners, so that leaves you and Josh,” Jake declares. You tear your eyes from your best friend and look to his older brother - that honestly could be his twin - to give him a questioning look. Jake rolls his eyes. “I just said we’re playing chicken.” 

The insecurities begin to creep back into your mind and you quickly glance to the sunbather only feet away. 

“Stop that,” Josh murmurs. “Climb on my shoulders. I’ll swim under water.” You don’t know how he knows what you’re thinking, but you don’t have too much time to question it before he’s swimming between your legs and hoisting you into the air. The curly one lets out a warm chuckle as he hears the shriek leaving your lips. You think you see Sam start to sit up as he sees his older brother securing his hands around your thighs even more- claiming it had something to do with ‘safety’. 

“She’ll need all the safety she can get,” Danny teases. “Jake and I are gonna kick your asses!” “Are you sure about that? What if we have a plan?” You grip onto Josh’s hair, knowing you don’t have a plan. You just hope it’s something easy to go with. “Like a sneak attack! Get them!”

Josh lurches forward and your hands fly up to push at Jake’s taut shoulders. Surprisingly, his spontaneous plan does work and you manage to knock the opposing team over. Unsurprisingly, this lights a fire inside of Jake. The next half hour is constant games of chicken, switching teams, hitting the water a little too hard, but still no Sam. One final stinging slap against the small waves does you in. You put up your white flag and head to the beach, fingers and toes beyond pruny anyways.

“Decided to come join me?” The brunet sunbather mumbles as he senses your presence - eyes still closed.  

“How’d you know it was me?” 

“I always know when you're around.” 

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you mock him. 

“Peter Parker has spidey senses and me? I have y/n senses.” Your best friend sits up, grabbing your hand and giving you a little tug. It seems like he was trying to get you to lay down with him, but you weren’t budging, the insecurities creeping back in. Sure, you’ve laid down next to Sam before, but that was then and this is now. Something about the air in between you two feels different. The only problem was that you weren’t sure if it was good or bad. 

You try to pull your hand from his soft grip. “I’m gonna go grab another towel.” 

“There’s room on mine,” he replies, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“No there’s not.”

Sam wasn’t going to waste another moment. He needed to stake his claim in front of his older brothers, you’re his. Suddenly you feel the air leaving your lungs as you’re pulled downwards. Expecting to hit the ground, instead you are met with a soft groan and the feeling of hot skin. 

“See? There’s room.” Opening your eyes from the sudden impact, you’re face to face with a tan chest. Slowly lifting your gaze, you see Sam with his eyes shut, smiling sheepishly at you. 

“Sam, I’m on top of you.” 

“I know, I like you like this.” Peeking an eye open, Sam was met with the visual of your mouth parted in shock, trying to find the right words to say. He could see the gears turning in your head. You felt the boy beneath you taking a deep sigh before parting his lips. 

“Bug…don’t act so shocked.”

“Sam, just let me go please,” you try pleading with the man.

“No, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this….and now seems like the perfect moment.” 

Trying to move yourself into a sitting position, you’re met with failure as sunkissed arms wrap around your back tighter, holding your body close to his. You could feel your chest getting tighter as the nerves course through you. He has no idea what kind of effect this is having on you and you really don’t want him to find out.

“Awww look at the love birds.” Of course Jake would have to ruin a moment like this.

“Yeah right,” Danny snorts. You hated to admit it, but that single laugh alone had you ready to cry. 

“Shut up guys. You know it’s not like that,” you mumble, pulling yourself out of Sam's embrace. You swear that you see Sam’s eyes glaze over with hurt, but that quickly disappears with him chuckling and smiling. 

“I’m hungry,” Jake whines, rubbing his stomach - looking over at his twin slowly making his way over to the group.  

“That sounds like a you problem,” Sam grumbles as he sits up. What is up with his attitude today? 

“No, it's Bug’s problem.” Jake makes a move towards you to grab your hand and hoist you up, but is stopped by his younger brother swatting his hands away. Josh and Danny let out eerie chuckles trying to ease the awkward tension that was forming. 

“How is it my problem?” 

“Cause I want one of your grilled cheeses.” 

“I told you the re-“

“Zip it.” Jake grabs your arm, pulling you to your feet. “We can’t have Sammy knowing that I’m the only person you trust with the recipe. Think about how jealous he’ll get.” 

The two of you start towards the house. “You know he heard that right?” You whisper to Jake as he loops his arm into yours.

“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing, Bug. Trust me,” Jake winks at you. 

You grip his arm tighter and don’t speak until you’re in the safety of the kitchen. You find that Sam was right, the AC doesn’t work very well in this cabin. 

“Alright, spit it out,” Jake says, not bothering to look at you while he grabs the ingredients. “I can see it all over your face.”

Other than Sam, you were the closest with Jake. When he was younger he was very quiet and wasn’t in your face like Josh was and you found comfort in that. He made you feel comfortable. That meant you could tell him the things you couldn’t tell Sam. As your feelings for Sam grew, Jake could see past your little unbothered facade. He’s been there through every up and down.

“I don’t know,” you groan and plop into a chair. “He’s just being so weird. One minute he’s normal and happy, then the next he’s moody and avoiding everyone. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you purposefully put Sam and I in the room with one bed. You’re setting me up.”

He laughs and flits about the kitchen preparing the meal for everyone. “I thought you’d appreciate that. You could always share with me.”

Flipping him the bird didn’t feel like it would be enough, so you throw a random pair of socks that you see balled up on the floor at his head. He ducks and lets a belly laugh fill the room. “Come on, y/n. It won’t be that bad. I really was just trying to help you out. How about this,” he sets an old, worn spatula on the counter and approaches you. “I’ll help you this week. We’ll get Sam to notice you the way you want him to.”

You eye his outstretched hand. This could potentially end your friendship with Sam if it goes badly, but you decide you couldn’t pretend much longer. So you grasp Jake’s calloused hand, putting all of your trust into this shake. “Deal.”

———————-

After some much needed food and a couple of beers, the boys decide that it would be a good time for them to go down to the pier and do some fishing. You opt to read the book that’s been sitting in your bag forever, figuring you could sit on the front porch so you have a perfect view of the boys on the dock. ‘Life can’t get better than this,’ you think and let out a big sigh. The buttery beams of the sun wash over you, bringing the feeling of sleepiness that you knew oh so well. Hours must’ve passed, you found yourself waking up to the feeling of someone trying to pry the book out of your hands. 

“A Court of Roses and Thorns? I didn’t know you read fantasy,” Sam smiles in small victory when he peels the book away from you, closing it and moving it to the table beside the chair. 

“I know, I usually read nonfiction but I’m trying something new. Don’t hate,” you mumble to him as you slowly stand up from the chair, stretching out your back in the process. 

“Hate on you? I could never,” Sam whispers. It was almost as if he was terrified of you hearing the little confession that left his parted lips. 

“How long have I been out?” 

“Well, considering it’s dark now, I’m gonna say about a few hours.” You look the boy over and see that he put his hair back into a low bun. You were always a sucker for that hairstyle. You take advantage of Sam being quiet and study his face some more. He looks good. It was only day one of this vacation and the sun gave him a kissable tan. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to survive the rest of the six. 

“So...what do you think about a movie night?” Sam suggests, throwing you a side smirk when he notices that you were checking him out. You silently thank god that it’s dark out, you didn’t want Sam to see how flushed your cheeks are. 

“With your brothers?” 

“No. Just you and me. Jake said he wants to have a bonfire,” he points towards the direction of the small pit that sits in the middle of some thoughtfully placed chairs. 

“I mean, sure. Yeah, we can do that.” 

A loud voice nearly has you jumping out of your skin. “Nope. Nada. Not happening. You have to be joking with us. I don’t want to be an uncle yet,” Jake bursts through the door of the cabin, protesting the movie night idea. Casting a glance over to Sam you see him rolling his eyes. You could tell he was starting to get fed up with his brothers interrupting everything. 

“Jake, c’mon. It’s gonna be so comfy inside. Can’t I join you guys tomorrow?” You ask the man, with a little bit of confusion lacing your voice. He was supposed to be helping push you and Sam together, not keep you two separated.  He gives you a look that lets you know you won’t be winning that battle, so you let the older man drag you over to the pit where the other two boys were standing. Looking over your shoulder, you could see Sam trudging behind you, obviously not wanting to participate tonight. Maybe he was hoping just to have alone time with you. 

“Bug, we’ll make you a weiner!” 

“Josh, I don’t want a hot dog right now.” Your body betrays you by letting out possibly the loudest stomach growl the group had ever heard. 

“Clearly that’s a lie. Plus, we know how much you love sticking them in your mouth,” Danny tries to speak in between laughs. You could tell that he’s proud of himself for that joke. 

“Relax, Sammy boy, no one’s gonna try to steal your girlfriend,” Jake teases as he slaps his back, trying to change his little brother’s mood. Based on what you could see through the flames of the fire, Sam’s face was red - beaming with frustration. 

Sam seems to ignore his brother’s ‘girlfriend’ comment as he sits down in the seat directly across from yours, separated by the fire. Jake plops himself into the chair next to you, mysteriously pulling out an acoustic guitar. 

“Where’d you get that?” you nod towards the guitar.

“Darling, I’m full of tricks,” Jake shoots you a wink, absentmindedly strumming the guitar. Looking around, you notice there was a black guitar case lined with a maroon velvet laying on the ground - instantly feeling dumb for asking him where got the acoustic from. If anyone knows Jake, then they always know there’s bound to be a guitar somewhere around him. Sure he was in college for business, but everyone knows being in a band was his true dream. 

“Jake you gonna play us Wonderwall? Or tell us all about how you’re meant to be a rockstar?” Sam snickers at his brother. What has gotten into him today. 

Sam was truly fed up with his brothers. Especially Jake. Every fear he ever had about bringing you to the lake had happened. Why couldn’t they just let him have something good for once? Sam had fully been planning on telling you about his feelings at multiple points in the day. He even made it obvious that he was being serious, but no one cared. 

Looking across the flames, you sat in awe of your best friend. A pain forms in your chest as you think back to a certain night sophomore year where you were sat in the same position. 

“Wooooo!” 

“Sam, stop yelling! You’re gonna get us in trouble.” 

“C’mon, Bug! Live a little,” Sam slurred at you, slinging his arm around your shoulder. He was drunk off the bourbon that his older brother just had to provide him with because it was ‘homecoming’. You rolled your eyes every time Jake said that. Maybe it was something that your parents engraved into your brain. God, you could hear the lecture from them already. Bitching at you for letting yourself be surrounded by ‘drunken idiots’.

You weren’t positive about the exact moment you started to like Sam, but one thing was for certain. This year you realized you were in love with him. It happened in between all the study dates, the late night texts and the random phone calls to see what you were up to.  

But tonight? Tonight felt different. Granted, you guys were each other's dates to homecoming, but something just felt different. You couldn’t quite place what the emotion was. Maybe it had to do with the way you two slow danced tonight - your arms placed delicately around his neck, while his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. His toffee colored eyes staring into yours-giving you soft smiles all night, not to mention all the little touches and forehead kisses. 

Your mind kept wandering back to those moments as you looked up at the man, watching the soft orange glow flicker across his face. His eyes were closed and he was starting to sway, you knew what this meant - you had approximately five minutes to get him up to bed or someone would have to carry him up there. You look around to see if there was anybody sober enough to help you get the lanky boy up the steps with no avail. 

“C’mon, Sammy. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Bug, are you trying to seduce me right now?” Rolling your eyes, you let out a huff as the tall boy leaned more of his weight onto you, trusting that you would be able to get him upside and to bed safely. 

“Sam, I know you're plastered, but you’ve gotta help me out here.” 

“I always help you out. You’re my girl.” 

You knew better than to believe his words, after all he was drunk and just rambling. Hearing the words ‘my girl’  was your downfall. You hated the way it made you blush. You silently thank god that you were able to make it into his room in one piece. After plopping the boy down onto the twin mattress, you were wondering how on earth you were going to get this boy changed. Finding a pair of sweats and grabbing a loose shirt, you turned around to find Sam standing in front of the bed. 

“I thought I told you to stay on the bed.” 

“Ooo. Bossy. I like it.” You knew he was a lot to deal with when he was drunk, but this was new. 

“I’m not being bossy. I just want you to go to bed. I’m tired.” 

“I don’t want to go to bed.”

“And why’s that?” You replied back, mocking the way he was whining. 

“Cause you’re not gonna be here for me to cuddle.” 

“Sam. Stop. You don’t mean that.” 

“I do mean it,” Sam responded, stomping his foot like a two year old having a tantrum in the middle of a grocery store. 

“No you don’t.”

“Stop telling me what I think,” he demands.

“Sammy, I know you. You don’t mean it. I’m not the girl you go for. Just please go to bed.” Your heart is aching with every word you speak.

“You can’t see it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve had a thing for you for the past two years.”

“No you haven’t,” you scoff. As much as you wanted to believe him, you just couldn’t. 

“Yes I have,” he insists. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Sam, look at you and then look at me. We don’t go together.” Your arms were crossed and your eyes found purchase on anything but him. His gaze never let up.

“Bug, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

“Please stop.” You could feel your breath slowly leaving your body as the young boy made his way to stand in front of you, placing a finger under your chin tilting your head up - silently begging for you to make eye contact with him. 

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” Sam whispered as he licked his lips. He leaves your eye contact briefly to look at your lips and then looks back into your eyes. Closing your eyes trying to find the right words to say - you were interrupted when you felt a pair of chapped lips meeting your soft ones. 

Not believing what was happening,  you opened up your eyes, only to be met with the sight of Sam’s eyes still closed focused on the task at hand. Closing your eyes, you could feel yourself melting into the kiss and slowly kissing the boy back. Sam could finally feel you relaxing into him - taking it as a sign to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer, running his hands through your hair. Not pulling or tugging, he was just holding you there. 

Sam shoved you away when he heard the wooden bedroom door being opened and slammed against the beige wall. Looking over at the intruder, you could feel your chest tighten up again when you saw that it was Sam’s other best friend. 

“Did I interrupt something?” Danny quizzed the couple in front of him, noticing the swollen lips and rustled dress shirt. 

“Nope,” Sam replied nonchalantly.

 After going to the bathroom that night, you decided to crash out in the boys basement, not being able to find it in yourself to face Danny after he walked in on the tender moment in between best friends. Waking up the morning afterwards, it took a couple of minutes for the realization of what happened- Sammy kissed you. Not only that, but he told you that you were the most beautiful person he ever saw. How were you supposed to address this situation with him?

Part of you wanted to run for the mountains and never face him again. Realistically you probably could live off the grid - but that would never happen, your parents would forbid it. Deciding that you needed to just talk to him, to figure out where you guys stood, you found yourself climbing up the steps of the quiet house. Placing your hand on the doorknob to turn it, you stopped yourself upon hearing muffled voices on the other side of the door. 

“So you kissed y/n last night?”

“Dude. I fucked up.” 

“But I thought you liked her?”

“Y/n? No, I think it was just the alcohol talking.” You could feel your heart breaking in two as you registered the words being spoken. 

“How are you gonna fix this?” 

“I just gotta tell her that it was a mistake. It meant nothing. I regret it.” 

If only you could be in the room and see the raven haired boy shaking his head at the lanky haired man laying on his bed hungover. 

The sudden feeling of a warm hand squeezing your knee brought you back to reality. Following up the arm of the man touching you - you were met with Jake’s coffee irises giving you the same sad sympathy look  he had given you the morning after the kiss.  You didn’t mean for any of Sam’s brothers to get involved with your relationship with him, but it just happened. After hearing Sam say the word ‘regret’, you ran outside onto the back porch in hopes of calming yourself down. 

Instead you were met with Jake smoking a cigarette and asking if you wanted to talk about it. Did you want to talk about it? It just so happens that your brain was telling you not to, while your heart had the opposite. You needed someone just to listen to you and the mysterious twin just happened to be there. That was the moment you and Jake became close. He held you as you cried - repeatedly telling you that his brother was a ‘fucking idiot’ and ‘if he doesn’t see how amazing you are, fuck him’. 

After that much needed pep talk from Jake, you pushed your feelings deep down inside and kept things as normal as you could with Sam. Meanwhile you and Jake were growing closer, but it was nothing in comparison with his little brother - the only issue is, Sam doesn’t know that. You were unaware of the fact that there were countless times the boys had been fighting over you. Well, more like it was Sam screaming at his  brother to leave you alone and to stop trying to ‘fuck you’. Jake would just look at him and give him a little smirk that would just push Sam over the edge. 

Jake moved his hand from your knee as a twig snaps in the dense woods just feet away from the group. Everyone’s attention is focused on the sound and you could feel your heart rate pick up. “What was that?”

“Probably just a deer,” Sam mutters as he peers into the darkness of the foliage. 

“What if it’s that killer?” Danny says all too casually. Your palms begin to sweat and you shoot him a death glare, challenging him to tell a cruel joke again. 

“What, you didn’t hear about it? It was on every local radio station around here.”

Sam meets your eyes then looks back to Danny. “No, we didn’t listen to the radio on the way here. I had my road trip playlist going.”

“You know how he is. ‘The radio is too mainstream,’” you roll your eyes, quoting Sam perfectly. 

Josh’s grin almost makes it seem like he could be the killer. “Oh, so you really don’t know then, huh? Well, when we got here we heard that there were several dead bodies found in the woods and the lake. They’d all been murdered.”

Your skin begins to crawl. You had just swam in that lake. The woods that once felt so serene now seem dark and foreboding. Like something was lurking, waiting for the right time to slip through the darkness and into the house of some poor, unsuspecting vacationers. 

“That’s not funny,” you mumble. 

Josh’s head snaps to you, looking near evil. “No, it isn’t. Not funny at all.”

“Cut the shit, Josh,” Jake scoffs. “Josh is just being a dickhead, but they are telling the truth. There were bodies found around here and they never found the killer.”

“What do you mean they never found the killer?” The hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you felt like something or someone was watching you through the trees. 

“Guys, knock it off. You’re scaring her,” Sam orders and moves his chair to sit next to you. “Hey, they’re just being douchebags. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

“All jokes aside, the story itself is true.  They never found the killer.. Rumor has it, one lady was slaughtered. Completely butchered. I guess the killer left a blood trail, the cops followed it into the woods. It stopped after twenty feet….whoever it is….they know how to hide. There really were bodies found around here, about three miles north.  But, I doubt anything will happen to us. He probably left town. Well, I’m hoping he did,” Danny attempts to comfort. 

“Danny,” Sam reprimands.

While you’re appreciative of Danny’s efforts, your stomach is queasy with fear. You don’t feel happy and carefree anymore. The moon shining down on the lake isn’t comforting like it once was, it’s ominous and holds secrets. The blowing wind seems like small whispers filled with said secrets.

“Can we go inside?” you ask quietly, eyes frantically scanning your surroundings. Feeling a hand cover your own, you recognize it immediately as Sam’s based on the way a crooked pinky finger is grazing against your own. 

“Hey, it’s okay. We can go in,” Sam murmurs as he laces your fingers together. It doesn’t take more than a small tug to get you out of your seat and heading towards the house. The rest of the guys decide to join you, hastily cleaning up their mess.

“Now you two can have that movie night,” Jake ribs. “We’ll be joining you, though.”

Josh immediately launches into a list of movie suggestions, but you can’t find it in you to care. Between the scare of the murders and the jumble of feelings for Sammy, you just needed to stare mindlessly at a screen for a while. 

The boys settle on the movie Psycho. You’re not sure if they’re intentionally trying to be dicks or not, but your mind is too busy to scold them. After gnawing on the skin of your thumb for a solid fifteen minutes, Sam slings his arm around your tense shoulders. The room is dark save for the glow of the tv screen and lamp that was hardly ever turned off, everyone is quiet. It could’ve been one of those world stopping moments you had with Sam whenever he danced along the boundary of friendship and maybe something more. The atmosphere was all wrong though. With the tension in the air and Jake’s worried eyes glancing at you periodically, there was no way you could indulge in this sweet moment.

Halfway through the movie, Jake stands abruptly. “I don’t remember if I put the fire out.”

“It’s been long enough. It probably went out by itself,” Josh mumbles, almost entirely distracted by the movie. 

“Do you really want to be responsible for a forest fire that could kill all of us? I’m going to check.” 

He moves through the living room and grabs his pack of cigarettes before breezing through the door. Your gut twists at the thought of Jake going out there alone. What if that killer was still around? 

You know you’re probably overreacting, but the sinking feeling in your chest wouldn’t let up, so you start to pull from Sam’s grasp. He only wraps around you tighter, shooting you a half smile.

“I wanna go with Jake,” you whisper, trying not to disturb the other two boys.

Sam’s full brows furrow, grasp still not letting up. “Why? He’s fine out there. We can see him through the window so we’ll know if something happens.” Standing your ground with a pointed look, the boy sighs and rubs your arm. “I would really like it if you would stay with me. I’ve missed you today.”

Oh. Your resolve melts a bit at his statement, some warmth returning to your heart. The puppy dog eyes he’s giving you are absolutely killer. How could you deny him? You sink back into your spot, safely tucked into his side and decide that Jake could wait until the movie was over. After all, you were being a little ridiculous about all of this. 

But when the movie is over, Jake is no longer in sight. Anxiety nearly consumes you as you lift from the creaky old couch and press your nose against the dusty pane of the window closest to you. “Guys? Why isn’t Jake back? Why can’t I see him?” 

Josh groans as he stretches out, foolishly opting to take a seat on the hardwood floor for the entire length of the film. “You know Jake. He’s probably off on one of his late night excursions.” The eldest joins your side after a moment, brown eyes scanning the darkness. “Look, he’s right there at the dock.”

There is a silhouette standing along the edge of the water at the beginning of the dock. It was far enough away that you couldn’t see any features, but the outline was there. You strain your eyes looking at the form. Was that Jake? You couldn’t tell.

“Are you sure?” you worry. “How do you know?” 

Josh claps you on the back, an amused smile gracing his youthful face. “I’m his twin. I think I could pick him out of a crowd of probably like, a thousand.”

“Let’s go to bed, okay? You’ll see Jake in the morning.” Sammy comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your midsection pulling you away from the window and towards the stairs. 

“None of you guys are going to check on him?” You ask them, trying not to be annoying but you just can’t shake this unsettling feeling in your gut. 

“Bug, he’ll be okay. Besides, we have this cool thing called twin telepathy. I know when something is wrong,” Josh tries to reassure you. 

“Y/n. He’ll be coming in at any minute. He’s gotta help me with the kayak’s tomorrow and you know he hates getting up early.” You took a deep breath continuing your journey up the stairs, trying to have faith in Danny’s sentence. Maybe I’m overthinking this. Deep Breaths y/n. 

Sam left you in the bedroom alone for a total of five minutes to change before you found yourself calling out for him frantically - you’ve never heard the man move faster. At lightning speed Sam came crashing through the door searching for your figure. Nestled into the wall closest to the window, the boy could see your hands shaking uncontrollably. Stalking his way over to you, wrapping you up in his arms, whispering ‘you’re okay’ into your hair. 

“S…Sam. There’s something in the woods over there,” you tremble into his chest, shifting all your body weight onto him, seeking as much comfort as you possibly could. 

“Bug, there’s nothing out there.” 

“Yes there is! I just saw the bushes move. There’s something out there watching us.”  

“Y/n it’s pro-”

“Don’t tell me that it’s just a deer. It’s the killer Sam. I know it is,”  you cut Sam off desperately. To be fair, your intuition never lied to you when it came to things like this.  “We need to leave now.”

“Look at me.” He didn’t give you a chance to object as he put his fingers under your chin, firmly tilting your head up. “I will not let anything happen to you. Okay? I’m gonna kill the guys. They shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well, I’m glad they did. Sam I'm not crazy, there’s someone watching us.” Your gaze returns to the forest. You know you saw something. You hadn’t imagined things like this before after hearing your fair share of campfire ghost stories. There was something different about this time. Something sinister. “Let’s go to bed okay? I think today’s just been long and we just need to sleep it off.” 

“Okay,” you sigh and feel his hands tugging you towards the bed as you keep looking out the window. Your intuition was screaming at you to get out of there as fast as you could. Crawling into bed, you opted for the spot closest to the door incase you needed a fast escape tonight. 

“Nuh-uh. Move over,” Sam grins, towering over your figure that’s already nestled into the sheets and slowly dozing off. 

“I’m comf-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. Move it missy. I need to be by the door.” Sam starts pulling the comforter away from you, acting like he was about to sit on top of you in hopes that he would make you giggle. He knew your mind was racing about the possibility of the killer breaking into the lake house - he needed to try to take your mind off of it, even just a little bit. 

“Okay, okay. Bossy.” You find yourself starting to get nervous as the reality kicks in that Sam is laying next to you. Flinching as you feel his forearm rest against yours, you take it upon yourself to roll over onto your side, facing the wall. You couldn’t possibly bear to face him in such a moment that seemed as intimate as this. 

If you were facing him, you would’ve seen the way that he was staring at you, having a fight with his inner monologue that told him to roll over and pull you into him, but he was scared - scared that it would ruin the friendship although Sam knew that this was his moment. Now or never. Everytime that he tried to tell you how he felt, one of his brothers had to interrupt the moment.  Following his heart this time instead of his head, he pushes himself up against your back, throwing his arm over your midsection. Your eyes fly open at the action, you knew that you were going to be in close proximity - you just never expected this. 

“Relax,” Sam murmurs into your ear. Fuck maybe he felt me tensing. 

“I am.” 

“No you’re not. Just let me hold you for a minute.” 

“I’m going to go look for Jake,” you mumble, moving his arm off of you. Trying to find an excuse to get away from him. Thinking about how he must’ve drank in those five minutes you were parted, there was no way Sam was sober and speaking to you like this. Finally succeeding and moving his arm, you sit up, getting ready to crawl out of bed when you hear Sam letting out a groan behind you.

“Why are you so worried about Jake?” The boy explodes. Shocked by the sudden outburst, you turn around to find him sitting up, red in the face. He was pissed.

“Sam, he’s outside by himself.” 

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” At this point you were out of the bed making your way over to the dresser, looking for a sweatshirt to throw on before you went outside. 

“I said bullshit, y/n. Just tell me that you’re into my brother instead of leading me on.” 

“Instead of leading you on?” You whip around to face him, hands trembling from the confrontation.

“Wow. Do you need a hearing aid or something? Do you know how obvious it is that you like Jake? The way you’ve been hanging all over him since sophomore year? You’re supposed to be the person that’s closest to me, yet you still decide to go after my big brother. Newsflash, y/n, he’ll fuck you and leave!”

Sam’s posture is rigid, face and bare chest flushed with passion of the moment. You hate yourself for thinking he looks pretty.

“Sam, what are you talking about?” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Sam spits out at you in a venom laced tone. 

“Me? Me? I’m the unbelievable one?”

“That’s what I just fucking said.” 

You scoff and tug your sweatshirt over your head. You can’t believe what he’s saying to you. He had the audacity to call you deaf, yet didn’t realize just how blind he truly is. 

“Tell me,” you seethe. “Tell me when I’ve been all over your brother, Samuel.”

He rattles off different instances, starting with sophomore year and how you suddenly grew close with Jake. He told you his perspective of those secret moments with the older Kiszka, not knowing you were actually lamenting over your own best friend. Sam suddenly grows quiet and his chest heaves. “I just wish I could be that person for you. I want that to be me. I have looked up to Jakey for so long - my entire life - and somehow I keep falling short. Even with you. I just want you to feel the same feelings I feel for you.”

Your lower lip trembles and your nails dig into the flesh of your palm. “Don’t,” you say through grit teeth. “Don’t say that to me. Especially when you regretted it so much last time.” 

His honey eyes that are darkened with distress flick from the comforter to look into yours, pink lips shaping into a small ‘o’. He stares at you for a moment before whispering, “You heard that?”  

“I had my hearing aids on that night.” 

“Y/n…I didn’t mean it.” 

“Please stay over there. Don’t come closer to me,” you plead with Sam as he gets out of bed and starts moving towards you. As much as you want the comfort of him holding you - you have to stand your ground and admit to him how much he destroyed you at that moment. 

“Please...just listen to me.”

“You’ve got two minutes,”  you bite, leaning back against the dresser and crossing your arms. 

“I was fifteen. I was scared, y/n. My brothers would tease me about you being my secret girlfriend all the time and I just- I don’t know, Bug. There’s no excuse for it. I don’t regret our kiss at all. If anything, I regret not coming to you the next day and kissing you again…this time sober.” 

You hate to admit it - your heart is aching as Sam expresses his feelings. Maybe this is the universe finally bringing us together. 

   “I came downstairs that morning looking for you. You know where I found you?” You shake your head at the man in front of you, trying to hold back tears as he makes his way slowly over. His large hands cup your face, gently rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. 

“I saw you outside with Jake. He was holding you…something I should’ve been doing, not him. I got closer to the screen door and I realized you were sobbing into his chest. I thought you regretted the kiss. I figured the tears were because you didn’t want me the way I want you, so I just pretended that it never happened. I stood by on the sidelines, hiding how bad I wanted you, y/n.” 

“You want me?” You try blinking away the tears and Sam catches the single drop that rolls down your right cheek, gently wiping it away.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been in love with you for the past two years. Thanks for noticing by the way.” Sam presses his forehead against yours, letting out a soft chuckle. 

“I’ve been in love with you too,” you whisper, looking into his honey irises. 

“God, we’re idiots.” 

Both of you softly laugh whilst staring at each other, trying to press this memory into your mind. You silently wish that you could see this look of love on his face everytime you close your eyelids. 

“Hey, Sam?” 

“Yes, bug?” 

“Kiss me.” Your heart is pounding, but not in the uncomfortable way it had been for the last hour. Any worries you had are thrown out the window. Your mind is enveloped with Sam’s presence, his scent. He consumes you.

“Well, if you insist.” You find yourself closing your eyes as Sam leans forward, finally capturing your lips in his. It was short and sweet - nothing less than electric.

Pulling away, you two start giggling uncontrollably. 

“Can’t believe we haven’t done that since we were fifteen,” he chortles and pulls you flush to his chest. His visage grows serious as he gazes down at you, strands of hair falling and framing his face. “I’m not gonna run away this time, I promise. This time I’ll show all of them that I love you and that you are mine.”

The electric feeling flows from your lips down to your toes at his confession. This situation didn’t feel real. “I believe you,” you whisper. “Now let’s go to bed.”

The two of you lay side by side, but quickly end up being wrapped in each other. You’re almost certain that you’re flying, floating through some dreamland that only your brain would cruelly make up. You’re terrified that you’ll come crashing to the ground and none of this will be real. But in the morning, he’s still there. His soft locks are splayed around him after having fallen out of his bun in the night. Supple lips are parted as gentle breaths escape him. He’s an angel. You decide you wouldn’t leave his side until he woke. This is the perfect time to admire him uninterrupted. 

“You know it’s rude to stare right?” You flush with embarrassment knowing that you just got caught in the act. 

“Sorry.” 

Sam grins, looking down at you laying on top of him with your face as red as a tomato. He loves watching you get flustered.“Why are you apologizing? I didn’t say I hate it.”  

“How’d you sleep?” you mumble as you tuck your head back into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing tight. You couldn’t believe that this is real. Sam is yours. 

“Really?”

“What?” 

“We’re doing small talk now?” Sam giggles. 

“I’m nervous. I don’t know what to say.” 

“Stop. It’s just me, Bug. I told you last night I'm not going anywhere.” 

You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by the sound of pans hitting the floor and a loud ‘fuck!’ from the kitchen. Both of you laugh out loud at Josh’s exclamation.

“We should probably go down there.” You pull yourself from his arms and slowly make your way over to the door, pausing to look back at the god-like man in bed. “You coming?”

Sam moans out a small protest. “Why? We can stay here. We don’t need to interact with them.” 

“He’s gonna burn the house down without supervision. You can stay here, but I’ll be damned if we all die in a house fire,” you joke and head out of the bedroom. It’s only a few seconds before you hear the padding of feet behind you and a set of bony fingers rest on your hips. He presses a kiss to your hair and descends the creaky stairs.

“Morning,” Josh grins as he spreads out ingredients for a large breakfast. “Day two at Camp Kiszka! How are you feeling?”

You steal a glance at Sam, forcing back a secretive smile. “I’d say we’re feeling pretty good.”

Before Josh can even ask why, the screen door is slamming open. Danny rushes in, looking pale and frantic. That same dreadful feeling from last night returns and his expression sends shivers down your spine.

Sam steps forward. “Dan, what’s wrong?”

Danny stands there shaking and wide eyed then nearly chokes over his words. “J…Ja..”

“C’mon, Danny, spit it out!” Josh moves beside the six foot man, slapping him on the back.

“Jake’s dead.”