#BUT I LOVE?? how they parallel each other in like?? almost everything??

[clemencetaught]

"No matter the battles we fight, it's side by side that we stand." From Deva.

this one definitely has standards :'D ( platonic bingo for patrick ( verse three ) w/ @uroborosymphony )

"Quite right too. If there is such thing as heaven and hell, our ride down there would come in a two-seater." He snorts, refusing to admit there is a certain...comfort that her presence provides. It's not one that say, Hyuk or Felicity has given him, one that brings him peace, but with Deva- it's companionship in the viper's nest. A comfort that makes the worst of circumstances...more bearable. "Now you wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you, would you? I ran out on my commute over."

[mamawasatesttube]

just thinking out loud here but i feel like a lot of popular perception of kon esp in online fandom spaces is colored by his joie de vivre and all the times he's silly and goofy. which i do of course adore!! i love when he's silly and goofy. but comparing that perception to, that of like, clark or kara, i feel like kon gets shunted into the box of "dumb comic relief character" a lot more easily. lots of factors probably contribute to that (sb94 having a bad rep, while no other kon comic really goes into a lot of his tragedy; conflation with the side of the fandom that doesn't read comics; the fact that comparatively postcrisis kara doesn't have a team the way kon has yj and clark is seen as a more capable adult, so other characters in the jl get the "dumb comic relief" short end of the stick more often; etc) ...

... but what really gets me about him is that he does embody a lot of the same traits as the rest of the kryptonian superfam. he's so extremely kind. he's got that same noble heart as the rest of them; he cares about everyone and he wants to protect everyone. and he's so, so lonely. he struggles between cultures and worlds where he feels like he doesn't belong to either. he is so strong and capable and holds so much power that it scares him.

cradles him gently in my hands. he contains multitudes... come closer don't you want to love him 🥺

[sincerelybubbles]

could you write something where the reader is listening to reid going off on his tangents and when he gets insecure, just straight up saying. "no, go on. i like the sound of your voice." ? ty! 🤍

Don't shut up // no warnings as far as i can tell? lmk if not <3 pure fluff!! ty for the request <333

"They usually called her the Limping Lady but there's really no way to tell how many pseudonyms she used," Spencer is saying, dragging his hand through your hair where you lay on his lap, His other hand is busy grasping at the air while he talks.

"Because of the prosthetic leg?" You ask, urging him to continue talking. You're nearly asleep, eyes heavy and chest loose with the comfort of his proximity.

"Yeah. She actually nicknamed it 'Cuthbert' when she got the wooden prosthetic. It's actually pretty interesting - people have been using prosthetics for a really long time. We don't know exactly when people started using them in modern medicine, but the first evidence we can find of them dates all the way back to ancient Egypt where they found a prosthetic toe."

The documentary Spencer put on over an hour ago about World War II has long since been paused, Netflix's blinking "Are you still watching?" hovering uselessly on his laptop screen. He paused it ages ago to discuss the inaccuracies about Hitler's past, then Italy's involvement in France and the parallels between the almost French famine and the Irish famine, leading him to Virginia Hall.

All in all, you're in heaven. He's been stroking your hair, blunt nails scratching every so often, voice rumbling through his chest and stomach where your ear presses against. He's talking calmly, even, if not slightly rushed, like he can't wait for even a breath to keep telling you about everything he knows.

"I just want you to know all of the things I know, too, you know?" He told you once when you urged him to slow down. He's learned to take his time with you, eventually, realizing that you're not waiting for your opportunity to jump in. You don't spend your time with Spencer figuring out when it'll be your turn to talk next; instead, you lull in the comfortable space of listening while knowing he'll return the favor the moment you have something to say.

"Sorry, are you trying to sleep? I can shut up and turn the movie back on," Spencer says suddenly, hand stilling in your hair.

You open your eyes slightly to find him looking down at you, lip caught between his teeth, a hesitant look in his eyes.

Spencer doesn't often get insecure like this around you - you've spent plenty of time convincing him that there's no need - but moments like this still happen. You suppose it's a natural product of constant teasing and bullying through childhood.

"I don't mean to ramble," he mutters when he catches your eye.

"No," you say, interrupting him and reaching up to brush your fingers across his cheekbone and up to his eyebrows. "No, Spence, I literally love the sound of your voice. Please, keep going."

You watch him melt, afraid for a moment that his liquid brown eyes will start to water. You make a concerned noise, about to sit up and comfort him further, when his hand moves to press down on your collarbones. He holds you in place as he looks at you for a second, heated gaze causing you to feel warm. Slowly, he bends to press a kiss on each of your eyelids, right below your eyebrows. He rests his lips on the bones there for a few moments before moving to the next.

"I love you," he murmurs, the truth of the statement oozing out too sincerely to ignore.

He doesn't give you a moment to breathe before diving right back into his explanation of how ancient prosthetics were integrated into modern medicine, hand resuming its path in your hair and voice slowly bringing you to a calm half-nap.

[mostly-imagines]

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.” 

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    

Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”

“I’d hope so.”

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

[hwanchaesong]

Ephemeral (Second Chances)

pairing: Yang Jungwon X F!Reader

synopsis: You sat and listened to the silence, the time ticked and you watched him walk down the aisle full of strangers. What scared you though, was the fact that everyone was blurry except for his dimples that you used to kiss.

word count: 12.1k

genre & warnings:fluff, angst, suggestive (borderline smutty), summer break setting, pet names, cursing, drinking, lots of arguing, bickering, tension and jealousy, themes of engagement and marriage,miscommunication, Yeonjun of TXT as your brother (his gf here is unnamed), other idols' names are used, making-out, slight dry humping, tell me if i missed some

a/n: first up is our jungwon bc why tf not lmao. next up would be probably be ni-ki's. this is a part of Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels. enjoy the ride! all likes, comments & feedback (esp this one, i love love love reading y'all reactions. legit gives me the serotonin boost) and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

The revival of the scorching sun is the mark of your independence from the tiring university life. Yet here you are, head hotter than the temperature outside that the air-conditioning couldn't cool it down.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" you whisper-yelled at your brother with a staggering amount of self-control not to slap him silly for failing to tell you a very important information beforehand.

He held his hands up in defense, guilt written on his face and you almost forgave him when he gave you the puppy eyes.. but no can do.

"I take back what I said, I won't do it anymore." you solidly declared, turning around on your heels to leave the kitchen where you dragged your brother to have a 'private' conversation with him.

"Y/N! I really need you for this one." he held you back, latching onto your arm and if it's not a consequential deal then you'd probably guffaw at how he comically dropped on his knees, begging you for a favor.

"Yeonjun! I- let me go!" you tried pushing him away to no avail, his yowling further annoying you.

"No! Not until you g-"

His fussing were cut off when an eerily familiar voice resonated throughout the room, putting an end to the squabbling that is currently taking place on the shiny, vinyl floors of the kitchen.

"Yeonjun-hyung, is everything okay?" the intruder asked, making your sibling stand and fake a smile, waving his hand nonchalantly and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Jungwon! Hi! Um, yeah, superb haha! Don't you think so, sister?" your fumbling brother turned to you, grinning but you take note of his googly eyes, silently notifying you to play nice and go along with him.

"N-" you yelped when you felt a stinging pinch on your arm, again, doing your best to conceal the unwavering indignation you're feeling. "Yes, don't mind us. You can go back to wherever you came from. We'll be out there shortly."

You felt his eyes on you, but you were adamant to not meet it, focusing on a piece of apple that was sitting on the counter instead.

The younger boy shrugged, muttering a small 'okay' before walking towards the living room again.

You face your brother, and he knows based on the shine in your eyes that you're pleading him to spare you, to look for another person who can help him because you don't want to go through this.. you don't want to go through him.

'High school sweethearts', was the category of your relationship back then.

The president and vice-president of the student council. The academic achiever and the sports champion. Yang Jungwon and L/N Y/N, a match made in heaven.

That's what everyone thought, if they want to talk to you, they just have to look for Jungwon and bam! You'll be right there as well. It was a common notion for you two to be inseparable, a matching set, the missing puzzle pieces that completes the picture.

You both knew that you were too young to be settling down, yet the assurance of being each other's endgame outweighs any lingering doubts.

Then on one fateful day, an incident happened. You dramatically gave it the title of 'Graduation Encounter: The Blessing of the Year.' (your friends were actually baffled on how you're able to name it like that, but they gaslighted themselves into thinking that maybe, this is your coping mechanism for dealing with heartbreak.)

You wanted to give him a gift after the ceremony, then you found him talking to his friend in the student council's room. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, and you're glad you did.

"Jungwon, do you see a future with Y/N?"

"No."

You heard his answer loud and clear to that damned question, and that was adequate for you to be crumpled, like the precious handmade present that you were holding.

That same night, you broke up with him through text. Not brave enough to face him in person but courageous enough to send him a long ass paragraph about what you learned before blocking him for good.

Then you did your best to avoid him like he's the plague. To forget him like that one sock you've probably hid somewhere but really didn't bother to look for until it flew outside your memory. Really, a vision of him brings you nothing but hurt and anger, also a terrible headache because you cannot fathom how he was once your beloved.

You did think that God loves you because Jungwon actually went to a different city to pursue his dream major in college, freeing you from his shadow. He won't be associated with you anymore and he'll be nothing but a mere nightmare that once haunted you in your peaceful slumber.

And now, you feel like the cycle is back to zero since you've had a glimpse of him. Like, all of your efforts to move on from him were nothing but trash, washed down the drain. Seeing him once more had you reeling into the hate shackle that he'd put you in.

"Y/N." Yeonjun called your name in a gentle manner, patting you on the head while he speaks to you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I regret that, but please, you're the one I trust the most. I can't possibly ask anyone else. Besides, you don't love him anymore, correct?"

... He has a point.

What the fuck are you even grumbling about?

How could you forget the promise that you made to yourself while you burn the letters and photos that he gave you, watching the fire engulf the memories that you previously held dear.

'The next time I see him, no more feelings are attached. He won't affect me anymore. I'll act casual, make him realize that I can live without him."

You concurred, steeling yourself from the upcoming escapade that you're about to embark on.

"You know what Yeonjun," you removed his hand on your head, crossing your arms as you gave him a poised smirk, "get your ass ready 'cause imma bestow you a showstopping wedding proposal."

You're confident, it's been a year since you've hung around Jungwon. Surely, you can keep all of these as strictly professional. You're mature enough, probably him too, it's not like he's gonna go and be a total hazard.

Right?

....

Wrong.

You were severely mistaken because the man is insufferable.

He's cocky and assertive, always has something to counter your suggestions and not to mention, a huge basher.. and you're getting tired of it.

He got your number yesterday when you stupidly agreed with your brother's pleas, thus, you're sitting here in a comfy café with a boy that you've assumed to never cross paths ever again after he messaged you last night for a meet-up and brainstorming session.

You kind of understood why your brother got him to assist with the proposal, given that he is Yeonjun's best friend, automatically making him the best man for the future wedding.

But still, he doesn't have to be so passive-aggressive about this. You're doing your best to be civil with him, so the least that he could do is treat you with respect as well.

"Okay, we're getting nowhere with this." you muttered, taking a deep breath and getting yourself ready to say another proposition when he interrupted your train of thoughts with a rather sarcastic reply.

"I mean, it's you so.." he trailed off, taking a sip of his iced coffee and you are so tempted to choke him at this point.

"Dear god, Jungwon you-"

He cuts you off when he suddenly whipped up the surprised pikachu face, "Finally! You've decided to call me by my name. That's the first step."

You squint your eyes at him, losing your cool at his unreasonable attitude, "What the hell is your problem?"

He feigned shock, clutching his chest as some sort of what you'd like to dub as tasteless acting, "My problem? Oh, miss, it pains me to know that you're blissfully unaware of your rude tone, sassy mannerisms, and not to mention the stink eye you've been giving me ever since you arrived here."

You straightened up from your seat. Were you really acting that way?

Pride must be your greatest friend, letting it fly high that it made you neglect the ethics that you've recited in your head a million times in order to be in a state of zen for this meeting.

"Don't play games with me now." you muttered, glaring at him and it drove you up the wall to see him scowl at you.

You haven't been in contact with him ever since the.. separation, and magic happened it seems, suddenly he appears in front of you out of thin air like a bunny hidden inside a fancy tall hat.

Except that the bunny is a complete 180 of what was supposed to be a sweet and little cutie patootie. You are well aware that change is inevitable. Yang Jungwon won't be the same person as he was before. What's infuriating you though, was the fact that he has the balls to be this brusque.

He sighs in defeat and it makes you even more confused, irritatedly staring at him as you wait for him to spout some more nonsense.

"I owe Yeonjun hyung a big one." he speaks, tone calm and it irks you how he's able to compose himself that fast, "I know we did not end on good terms, but I want to help him as much as I can. He's an important friend to me."

First, you'll give him some credit. He does acknowledge that the whole situation sucks because your past is something that one cannot simply overlook.

Second, Yeonjun is your brother, of course you'd want to lend a hand for him too.

Third, if this guy can go to great lengths for a person that he values then why didn't he-

You blinked, stopping yourself from continuing that thought. There is no fucking way you'll complete that dreadful rumination you're brewing inside your precious brain.

"Then what do you suggest?" you watch him smile in triumph, the first since your rendezvous. And as much as you hate to admit it, you did miss that joyful vibe he'd always emit.

Finally, he laid out the plans that he had painstakingly plotted the moment Yeonjun asked him about the perfect wedding proposal.

You listened intently to Jungwon, mindful of the schedule and divvying up the work, also making a mental note of your own ideas that you might pitch in later on.

Your brother will ask his girlfriend next Wednesday, during her birthday party celebration. That means that you only have a what? A fucking week to get everything done.

"That's it." he finishes his rambling, glancing in your direction and giving you ample time to take in his word vomit.

You are willing to put the bitterness behind you if it means that you'll see your brother happy and satisfied. He deserves that much, after all the love and support he has given you, it is only natural for you to return the benevolence he had showered you with since you were born.

You stood up from your seat, extending your hand to the curious man in front of you, "We'll do that and the things that I will also say at some point." you smile, having half a mind to compliment him for the meticulous planning, "You never lost your touch when it comes to creating blueprints, Mr. President of the Student Council."

He smirks at your unforeseen flattery masked in irony, accepting the handshake and not missing the chance to throw a jab in, "And you're still good at heeding my orders despite your nature of splashing it with your own ideas, Ms. Vice-President of the Student Council."

Your eyes widened, caught-off guard by his witty teasing.

Amidst the quiet coffee shop where the calming classical music surrounds the serene space, an imminent cyclone forms as the two former lovers, turned partners-in-cupid, stand with their hands clasped in harmony, regarding each other in a pique.

Game on.

---------------------------------------------------

Day 1: Choosing a venue

You scanned the area thoroughly, a sense of merriment filling your heart while you observe the shades of green colliding in the small yard. Butterflies scattered around, the variety of plants and how they're trimmed and grown to perfection created a scenery of paradise. Not to mention the elegant fountain in the middle. (You could only chuckle at the thought of your brother gawking at the said piece of art.)

You're currently standing in a garden, the chosen location for the upcoming surprise, waiting for Jungwon to finish his business with the owners. He's the one who found the site in social media, thus, you made him do the honor of negotiating.

It was located in the countryside (2 to 3 hours drive from home), near the beach and the way the wind carries the ocean breeze brings a nice touch of freshness. It's tranquil in here, away from the bustling city and no gossip girls will appear out of nowhere.

You sat down in the wooden bench, taking a sip of your earl grey tea and sighing in contentment. Yeonjun would love it here, you also do think that the place is nice, and if you would be given the chance to choose a location for your own wedding engagement, this will definitely be your top pick.

"That's great! Thank you so much for giving us the spot next Wednesday."

Jungwon's distant jabbering snapped you out of your reverie, turning on your seat only to find him already focused on you, then he made a tiny gesture, telling you to come and meet the owners of the garden. You gave him a blank stare but obliged nonetheless.

You straightened your outfit, walking in his direction and coming face to face with the kind-looking elderly couple who's strangely gazing at you two with mirthful expressions.

"Good afternoon, I'm Y/N and-"

The older lady spoke, her sentence bamboozling you to no end.

"Is this the wife-to-be? Oh my god, she's gorgeous! You have a nice taste young man." she exclaims with a big grin, taking your hand in hers and shaking it vigorously.

"I have to agree with my wife here. You two are lovely together." her husband smiles as well, having the same opinion as his spouse.

"Oh no. Ma'am, sir, we are not- that's not..." you trailed off, awkwardness coursing through your veins and you had to get help from the equally bewildered man beside you, your whole body language begging for him to say something.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, Mr. and Mrs. Shin, but we're not together. It's actually her brother who's going to be engaged soon." Jungwon finally clears the confusion, a perplexed demeanor coming off from the pair.

After a while of explaining, the owners apologized for the misunderstanding, to which you easily accepted and even made a lighthearted joke about it. When everything's been settled, the place booked for next week's agenda and the duo promised to accommodate you to the best of their abilities, it was time to say farewell.

You made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat of Jungwon's car, peeping behind the tinted windows and being intrigued as to what they were discussing on the porch.

Right as you were about to leave, Mrs. Shin pulled Jungwon back to ask him a really important question. He had to usher you to go back first, but your inner detective conan was about to be let out of prison when you saw his scandalized facade just as the old woman whispered in his ears.

You witnessed how his ears turned red, the usual shy mien he had always sported back during highschool making an appearance, his adorable dimples showing when he pursed his lips to stop himself from laughing at what you can assume are ridiculous questions coming from Mrs. Shin.

You're a cat, a curious one at that, so you gaped at him when he entered the vehicle without so much of a word, revving the engine on and driving away.

Jungwon's right eye twitched when the irk of your not so subtle leering at him eventually provoked him to actually start a conversation with you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You puffed and glared at him, "The only thing that is wrong here is your attitude."

Jungwon visibly seethed through his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tighter, "Y/N." he called your name firmly, and believe it or not, his tone managed to create shivers down your spine. "Speak, we don't have all day."

"Well.." you bit your lip, suddenly embarrassed by your petulant behavior a few seconds ago.

"Well what?" Jungwon urged, momentarily glancing at your feeble figure.

"I was curious about what you were talking about with Mrs. Shin back there." you admitted with a small pout on your lips, evading his deriding eyes as you busied yourself with the enchanting terrains outside.

The sun had begun to set, casting a bright orange color across the skies, painting even the blue water seas with its beauty. A magnificent landscape, but your anxiety obstructs you from enjoying the view.

You heard Jungwon chuckle, and you were about to protest when he reassured you in the calmest way possible, "She was asking regarding Yeonjun hyung and his girlfriend. Nothing for your pretty little head to overthink about."

A certain word caught your attention, rotating your head a bit too fast that you almost had a whiplash, "Pretty? You think I'm pretty? Jungwon?"

He's smart enough to realize that you're doing this to rile him up.

"Y/N, I need you to shut up."

Day 2: Decoration and props

"No, we don't need that." you pinched the bridge of your nose when Jungwon picked up another set of balloons on the shelf, turning a deaf ear to his childish complaints when you rejected another item that he had deemed critical for the party.

"No fair!" he grumbles, pawing the objects in the cart, "All of the things in here are the ones that you've picked! You've never given me a turn to select at least one decor!"

You fight the intrusive necessity to abandon him in the aisle, personally wanting to save your crumbling image as the people around you begin to murmur at the commotion that Jungwon is causing.

"Alright! Alright!" you felt routed, you can never win against his juvenile stubborn personality, always having you at its mercy and if you tried to resist it, an impending doom is bound to happen.

"We'll pick one decoration of your choice, okay?" you showed him your index finger, shoving it into his face to reiterate your point, "Just one."

The way he cheered was akin to that of a child who was allowed by his mother to eat ice cream after winning a spelling bee competition. You shook your head at his antics, slightly laughing at his peppy steps as he sauntered towards the kids' birthday area of the store.

You begrudgingly followed him, grimacing at the item in his hand. You were about to nag the hell out of him, to question him the purpose or importance of some multicolor whistle blowout in a formal event.

But you stopped when you felt a tiny tug on your pants, squealing in delight when you were greeted by the cutest human being on earth.

"Hello little guy." you crouched down to match the child's height, your former frustration melting at the sight of his puffy cheeks and red eyes, probably from crying. "Are you lost?"

The youngster nodded his head a yes, and you couldn't help but coo when he made grabby hands at you, letting you know that he wanted to be carried. And who are you to say no to an angel?

At this time, returning the kid to his parents becomes your priority, "What's your name?" you gently asked the boy in your arms, swinging slightly from side to side in an attempt to further pacify him.

"Sunoo." he murmurs from your shoulders, sniffling and for a moment he gazes at you like he's in some deep thought, then he slapped your cheeks in his chubby hands, "You're young mommy."

You don't know if this is a compliment or not, but you smiled either way, thanking him and you're about to proceed to the security when Jungwon went and made his forgotten presence known again.

Sunoo shrieked when Jungwon blew the damned party horn, the tube unrolling and hitting the child in the face. For a minute you were so tempted to chuck Jungwon into a ditch, getting nervous at the thought of Sunoo crying... thank god he didn't.

The young one liked an element of surprise it seems, clapping his hands excitedly and spurred Jungwon (the child called him young daddy and you nearly gagged) to do it again, to which he did, causing Sunoo to erupt in a fit of giggles.

Something in your heart clenched while you watched the two interact, it was thumping rather loudly in your chest, reminding you of the dead and buried daydreams that you once had.

You'd be lying if you said that you never imagined a family with Jungwon. You'd be fooling yourself if you said that you've never pictured Jungwon as a part of your future.

The future that he said he couldn't see with you.

Rage suddenly shoots in and replaces the melancholic emotions you're in, and Jungwon felt that when your eyes are literally shooting him through his skull. His play time with Sunoo came to a halt, peering at your upset form and he frowned, inquiring if you're okay.

You refrain from meeting his brown orbs, giving only a hum in response and that made Jungwon's frown deeper.

The kid pouts, looking back and forth at the two adults, "Is young mommy and young daddy fighting?"

"No," you answered immediately, "we're not. Everything's fine honey." you tried your best to smile, albeit strained, "How about we find your parents, hm?"

You found the perfect way to escape Jungwon's piercing gaze, leaving him alone with his thoughts. You wouldn't be able to keep up with his interrogation and you'd rather die than be upfront with him.

This is not supposed to bother you. You must remain poised and rational at all times, a reminder that you kept on repeating inside your mind while you escorted the child to the security, having them announce the presence of Sunoo into the intercom.

After a few minutes of waiting, his parents finally arrived, thanking you profusely and as a way to show their gratitude, they happily paid all of your bills in the shop. (Jungwon stayed in the halls, giving the reason of not wanting to leave your cart unattended.)

You bid your goodbyes, promising Sunoo to visit him when you have the time. His mother and father were kind enough to give you their phone number and address, and it was your turn to thank them for giving you the opportunity to see Sunoo whenever you wanted to. They waved it off, saying 'our son was attached to you, he'll surely cry his heart out if he's not able to see you again.'

After the parting, the worst part that you're abstaining from followed, the stillness inside the vehicle was suffocating, and anybody with eyes can clearly tell how palpable the tension is.

You distracted yourself by counting the droplets of rain that fall on the window, listening to the buzzing radio, anything to brush the unsettling vibes aside.

The car went to a halt on the side of the road and you were stupefied at the abrupt break, you turned to reprimand the driver but you noticed that he was doing nothing but to stare ahead of the empty, wet pavement.

"Are you uncomfortable with me?"

He was direct, not fumbling around with his words and it made you hate him. How can he be so brave when it comes to confrontation?

"Let's just go. We're wasting time here."

Sidetracking was what you were best at, and that made Jungwon clench his jaws hard, will you ever change?

"Y/N, answer me." it was a ticking time bomb, the sudden change in your mood a while ago was a big mystery to him, and he'll never lay it off until he learns the reason why.

"Why should I?" you deadpanned, acting clueless to genuinely irritate him.

"Because we're not leaving until you answer me. You have two choices, Y/N." he's motionless, but you weren't, and you're about to do the most clichéd shit out there.

Yes.

You glanced at him for a second, gave him a resentful smile, then you exited out of his car, not paying any mind to Jungwon's shouts for you to come back. You were adamant to trek your way home if it means that you won't have to stay in that asphyxiating conflict.

A yelp escaped you when Jungwon harshly jerked you to cease your movements, your back bumping into his sturdy chest as he held you by the arm.

"Let me go." you demanded, not having the energy to struggle in his grip, you reckon that it'll be useless because Jungwon is much stronger than you. Ain't no way you're squandering your energy over a futile endeavor.

"Is it really that difficult for you to be with me?" he whispers and you've gone frigid, did he really say that with such dejection?

"If you are not comfortable with me, I could tell Yeonjun hyung. You wouldn't have to spend your time with a person that you.. hate."

It physically pained Jungwon to utter that dreadful word, but if it makes you feel better then he would gladly swallow the numbing pill, he won't say it out loud, but your happiness will always be his priority.

And you think you're being selfish, of course, the break-up did not only affect you, it must have damaged him too.

Undeniably, you need to knock some sense into your brain.

"I'm sorry," you shuffled around until you were facing him, "I'm being absurd. I was-" you took a deep breath, "I was reminiscing, okay?"

You didn't have to tell him more, he understands. He always did, even during your darkest times, he was the only one who could bring you out of your emotional shell.

Jungwon held his pinky out, "Tell me when your reminiscing gets too much, I'll give you space. For now, let's be casual, yeah?"

A hint of the corner of your lips quirking up made him feel like a champion, intertwining your pinky with his in a small-scale pledge.

It's thorny for it was not attended for the longest time, but the residual connection can be made as a starting point to fix a rift.

Under the heavy droplets of the heavens, soaking through your shirts, what matters the most in this solemn atmosphere is this: the neverending solidarity to Yeonjun's imminent marriage proposal.

Day 3: Food and catering

You were never a fighter, you have counted yourself as a lover, but right now, your fist itches to land a blow on a random girl's face... a broken nose suits her the most, you think.

She keeps on twirling her hair, her fake high-pitched voice is sickening, and the way she stands is so vexing.

Yeah, you do understand where she's coming from.

Jungwon, for some reason, was all dressed up for today's schedule. An outfit that hugs his lean body exquisitely, dynamic enough to tuck his long-sleeved button up in a black trouser, said sleeves of the button up were rolled up to his elbows. He was no doubt showing off his broad shoulders, rich man arms and slim waist, heck, even his hair is styled flawlessly.

You on the other hand weren't severely outclassed, aware of the fancy catering service that you're visiting. A simple dress and a pair of boots sufficed you, then again, you were never the fashionista in this tandem.

What you're pissed about is an enigma, but you do know that you want to thwack Jungwon in the face too. He eats all the girl's recommendations, and he has the audacity to giggle at every word that she says!

At first, you were ecstatic to test the foods presented to you, as time goes by, you lost interest because the host didn't bother to give you the fucking time of her day, focusing entirely on Jungwon.

Hence, you find yourself sitting in the corner of the room, boring holes into the pair as you nurse your glass of Cheval Blanc 1947.

"Here are our cheese section!" the woman speaks in an unnatural cheerful tone, and you couldn't help but grimace at her dying whale sounds. Just then, Jungwon turns on his heel and beckons for you to come.

"Ah, sadly I'm lactose intolerant. It's okay though, my girlfriend here can taste it for me." he motions in your direction, to where you stand dumbfoundedly at the most shocking news of the day.

He lied and he used the godforsaken title on you.

"Baby? Are you okay?" Jungwon asked, hurrying in your direction while resting his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the long table where the enormous amount of dishes are laid out. He then softly murmurs against your ear, "I'm getting tired of that girl, please help me get rid of her."

You raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Weren't you enjoying the attention from her?"

You almost winced, you sounded like a jealous girlfriend back there, but Jungwon was too appalled to even notice the slip-up.

"The fu- No. I was being polite but one more of her screeching and god, I'd jump off a cliff."

His nauseated visage made you snicker in amusement, yet you acknowledged his scheme and you are ready to bring your inner Julia Roberts out.

"Yep, I'm fine.. baby." you intentionally made your voice louder, adding the bit after a millisecond of self reflection, pressing your body closer to his and boldly landing a palm over his chest, "So, what about the cheese?"

From your peripheral sight, the attendant was obviously fuming at the blatant display of affection. She did well at concealing her rage though, keeping an impassive guise in spite of her clenched fist.

Jungwon grabbed some pieces of the dairy products (no, not by his hands, they are conveniently skewered), inspecting them and as usual, lady whale in clown make-up happily expounds each and every last one of the cheese to him.

He was unfazed by the unsolicited trifling, instead fixing his whole attention on you, his hands clutching yours when he felt your grip on him became tighter at the girl's attempt of flirting with him.

"Here, taste it for me." he prodded you, gently feeding you each cheese, completely disregarding whatever chatter was happening around the room.

The delicious milk excites you, unconsciously doing the dance that you used to do whenever you find a magnificent dish.

Jungwon beams, finding your actions endearing, then it fell down when the attendant who couldn't take a damn hint pitched in some cynical comment towards you.

Oh, he was about to berate her, but you stopped him from doing so, wanting to deal with the mini but pointless battle.

"Miss, may I ask what's your preferred cheese?" you detach yourself from the boy, squaring up to the attendant.

You're about to give her a taste of her own medicine, except you are preparing it to be more bitter than a gosam tea.

She eyed you sassily, feigning a cheerful expression before pointing at the Ricotta.

"I knew you were a basic bitch." a depreciating giggle was heard from you, facing Jungwon and throwing your hands around him which he naturally returned, "Wonnie, we should get the Brie de Meaux."

"Hm? Okay then, we'll order that. We expect everything to be fresh and that it will arrive on time next week." Jungwon utters with finality, his words directed to the food presenter but he did not batted her with any ounce of regard.

You craned your neck, smirking at the aggravated woman.

Sweet victory. Well, it's not like she had any winning odds. She had it coming to her either way, fighting a losing skirmish.

Today's events should've scared you to your wits. The manner in which you and Jungwon held, talked, and looked at each other.. it was too innate. It did not feel like you were putting on a show to make that witch act accordingly.

It's peculiar that the day ended in a carefree manner. Both sides were satisfied and radiant, no bickering and no ill intentions whenever the other had their back undefended.

Maybe the soliloquy under the rain washed the remnants of black smoke and withered petals away, creating a blank canvas that can be painted with the daylight colors of a blossoming friendship.

Yeah, that must be it. Friendship.

Day 4: Flowers

"Red roses are good. Also, please add some white lilies and pink carnations into the roster, she'll love it." you rambled to the florist, but she merely gave you an understanding nod and proceeded to work with your request.

A yawn was heard from the corner of the shop and you suppressed the urge to punch the suspect of the offending sound, you chose the peaceful option of ignoring the person, continuing to mind your own business not until someone broke the silence that you've been enjoying.

"What's taking so long?" he asked, boredom lacing his tone, and that's when you whipped around to give him a warning look.

"Jungwon, picking the perfect flowers takes some time. If you want to go home, then go. No one's stopping you." you sassily replied, gracing him a tight lipped smile in the process.

It irked you even more when he rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you're sure is a snide remark towards you.

He was fine the last few days, so why on earth is he acting like a brat now?

You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pondering some ways to de-stress later. Surely, planning a proposal with your ex-boyfriend is something that you, a sane person, wouldn't do during your free time but here you are.

What was your brother even thinking, sending you with this jerk (which is conveniently his best friend), to help and prepare for the upcoming surprise for his girlfriend. Of course you'd love to do whatever you can for your dear sibling, but this is ruthless.. and plain torture.

While yes, you agreed to your brother's request, days like this where Jungwon is being unbearable made you question your decisions in life.

Just before you go deeper within your thoughts, a handsome man holding a bouquet of your chosen flowers emerged from the back room. He beamed at you, his eyes crinkling adorably and his dimples poked through his cheeks.

"Hello there!" he greeted you with joy, polite but bright and it made you naturally smile as well. Like they say, happiness is a virus that can easily infect anyone.

"Yes, hello uhm.." you trailed off, looking at his name tag, "Soobin?"

"That's me." he giggled and dear lord, were you about to burst at his charming facade, "I'm the floral designer here and I wanna ask if you're okay with this presentation?" he raised an eyebrow, showing you the beautifully arranged bunch of flowers, wrapped in an abaca and tied with a pink ribbon.

"Oh, it's gorgeous! You're great at this." you exclaimed, making the tall man blush, getting shy at your compliment.

"Ah, not really. The flowers are doing most of the work here, which I'm guessing are your favorites?" he scratched the back of his head, gazing at you with a soft smile.

Jungwon on the other hand frowned, like, what the fuck is this exchange of flirting he's seeing?

Not. Fucking. Tolerable.

He stood up from where he was seated, slamming his hand on the counter, effectively startling the two people who were conversing which gave him immense satisfaction.

"That's good enough. We'll take that." he feigned a charming smile, allowing the dent on his cheeks to show as well.

That Soobin guy can go to hell, his height and deep voice (that were a stark contrast to his own traits) do not matter, he's not the only one with dimples here.

You were shocked, surprised, disturbed, all adjectives out there are not enough to describe the bombshell that Jungwon dropped, but you weren't gonna stand there and let him be rude. Right as you were about to tell him off and apologize to Soobin, he managed to leave an impact again.

This time, it's fatal for your poor, weak heart.

"And those aren't her favorites. It's a combination of lilac, purple peonies and white tulips, actually."

You bent your neck to look at him, realizing the small proximity you two are in. He's mere inches away from you. Too close that you're able to see his sharp side profile and inhale the scent that you've tried to desperately forget during the sleepless nights where all you've wanted was to be held by him.

You have forgotten about Soobin by now, the vow that you took, the walls that you've built, everything. The only thing that you care about as of the moment is that Jungwon remembers.

Jungwon still knows the flowers that you wanted for your own wedding.

"Jungwon.." his lowly muttered name from your lips made him aware of his surroundings, noticing how close he was standing next to you, quickly distancing himself so as to not make you uneasy.

"I'm sorry." he cleared his throat, sparing Soobin a glance before making an ungraceful exit from the flower shop. A half-assed excuse of having to do something and that he'll leave the decision to you.

When Jungwon was out of the establishment, you turned to Soobin and shot him an apology as well.

"Nah, it's fine. Seems like I crossed a line." he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you teasingly afterwards, "He might come off as a passive one but he's actually possessive. That's hot."

You snorted and rolled your eyes, bluffing an expression of indifference and denying whatever the florist was trying to imply.

"He's not a boyfriend?" he asked, listing the order and other details so it'll be delivered on time for the celebration.

"No, not a boyfriend. He's a friend." emphasizing the latter, though it was clear that Soobin wasn't persuaded, given by the knowing smile he sent you.

"If you say so."

You hummed, eyes trailing to the cat-like boy outside, having finished his 'business' and is now leaning against his car, patiently waiting for you.

Having him as a friend is a good thing, yeah, you'll convince yourself that.

Day 5: Engagement ring

"Thank god Yeonjun actually did something for his own wedding proposal." you groaned, threading through the people of the jam-packed mall, spotting the familiar male in front of the jewelry shop that you've been finding for the past five minutes.

You were about to yell at him, but then you noticed he was busy with his phone. He was texting someone, with a small smile.. and dare you say that it was a smitten one.

The world slows down for a while in your perspective, you have to remind yourself that yesterday's ruckus, and the other days before that were nothing but a sham. A mere helping hand and concern for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

You told yourself not to be envious, in fact, it could be his sister or friend or a relative! Yada yada, no, it doesn't really matter even if it's a prospective lover.

Totally none of your business.

You inhaled, gripping your bag rigidly and stiffly walking towards him. Your silhouette must have caught his attention as he hastily closed and hid his phone in his pocket, acknowledging your presence with a tasteless hello.

Today's task is not a laborious one, you just have to check if the engagement ring is done and if it'll fit the finger properly. After that, you can take it back home, give it to Yeonjun so he could sneak it and voila- simple as that.

Entering the shop had your eyes bulging, the prices of the ornaments had you gagged. The fuck you mean an engagement ring can go up to a whopping 2 million won or more?

"These are expensive." you gasped, "Who would've thought that getting married can be this costly?"

"It's a precious gemstone, carved and refined into amelioration. It shows how much one cares about their partner, don't you think so, mademoiselle?" a voice startled you, clutching your chest, the jeweler behind the counter gave you a dazzling, apologetic smile at his suddenness.

"Gosh no, don't get me wrong. They are divine!" you raised your hands up in defense, "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"It's no problem." he laughs it off, placing a velvet red box on the glass counter, leniently opening it and you were blown away at the visuals of what was inside it. "By the way, this is the jewelry that you requested."

You were amazed to say the least. Yeonjun might be an idiot when it comes to art, but you can guess that love does strange things. He chose the perfect ring that his girlfriend will surely love.

"Is this ready to go?" Jungwon asked, startling you for the second time of the day, which was partially your fault because you did forget that he was beside you all this time while you're busy gawking at the trinkets.

He carefully studied the ring, the golden band with a cut of rose quartz on top glistens under the lighting of the establishment, it is truly sublime.

"One last step, monsieur. We have to make sure that it fits, you should try it on our mademoiselle here." the jeweler motioned to you, and you were about to reject him, apprehensive of the idea but you saw Jungwon hold his hand out.

You gaped at the boy, not expecting him to concede right away.

Time ticked by yet he's not showing any signs of trickery, the pressure weighs on your shoulders but you complied, cautiously covering his palm with your own.

It was electrifying, the way his fingers grazed your knuckles and his softened gaze on your skeptical mien. Goosebumps run across your arms, tickling the sentiments that you've locked in a vault as he slides the metal that was supposedly filled with promises on your ring finger.

"Gorgeous." Jungwon breathes, and you'd think that he was pertaining to the jewelry only if you did not miss the elusive starred glance he sent your way.

You surveyed your clasped hands, zooming on the ring and damn it to hell, it's too real to ignore and you're about to make a grave mistake if this continues.

A cough pulled you out of your self-absorbed hallucinations, separating your hand from Jungwon's and swiftly removing the ring on your finger, returning it to its proper place.

"It's excellent, we'll take it." you pretended to be fine, like your heart isn't about to pop out of your chest due to tachycardia that was rightfully caused by the person who is currently cooking you with his heated stare.

The jeweler gave you two a once over, a strange smile on his face before excusing himself and disappearing at the back of the shop, probably to pack the ring.

"What?!" you snapped when he remained steadfast on his staring, not having enough patience at Jungwon's antics anymore, crossing your arms in an unsophisticated stance, ready to drop kick the mixed signal giver.

He cackled at your aggressiveness, patting you on the head, "You're adorable when you're flustered."

He's bad news. He's dissolving your resolve and you think it's funny how he's able to scratch your surface easily.

Have you always been this weak? Or are you delicate only in his company, as if it's second nature to you after being with him for the longest time?

You'll never know and you're dead set on not knowing.

You'd live in this bliss called ignorance if it means that you can carry on with the denial, because there is no fucking way you're regaining the ardor you once held for this dumbass who broke your fragile heart.

You'll blame the bygone familiarity.

Flicking his hand off, you mustered the most arrogant expression you could do, "I was born adorable, Yang."

Day 6: Music

"Your obsession with Taylor Swift is unhealthy."

"And you think that BTS will do the trick?"

Jungwon lets out an affronted wheeze, "Yeonjun-hyung loves BTS."

You side eyed him from your position on the floor, "And his girlfriend's whole anthem is Taylor Swift."

You glared at each other, having a silent clash on which music should be played during the proposal.

"Can't we have a common ground here?" you went over the counter, refilling your empty glass of cheap wine that you found in Jungwon's cabinet and chugging it in one go.

The two of you are currently conceiving the ideal music to be played during the actual proposal in his flat's kitchen. It's 7 PM, he invited you over, you accepted, and now you're giving each other shit for the difference in music taste.

You understand the assignment. It should be romantic enough that it'll set the mood, love will fill the air and possibly make the girlfriend cry. Thus, you recommended a song that fits the occasion, yet your nemesis begged to differ.

Jungwon clicked away on his laptop, scouring through youtube but it 'coincidentally' ends up in the same audio that he's been fighting for.

"Open your ears and listen, Euphoria is the real deal here." he sassed, and you couldn't help but scrutinize him, making your way over to him and tapping on his keyboard aggressively.

"Daylight is what we're looking for, buddy." you played the song, making Jungwon groan in distaste.

He was yapping about how picturesque the celebration would be if Euphoria echoes in the background while Yeonjun goes on one knee, professing his undying commitment to the love of his life.

You put a hand under your chin, pondering over the concept, then a light bulb went off.

You slapped Jungwon on the back, shrugging his pained mewls off and telling him the great idea that you got. He was tentative at first, but he still did it when you threatened him that you'll eat his last stored curry if he didn't do your request.

Finally, a mash-up of two love songs in piano versions was made.

You listened to it, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the back at your once in a blue moon stroke of genius.

Euphoria is a good option during the actual proposal, but what about after it?

Slow dancing under the fairy lights, foreheads touching with lovesick smiles, knowing that you're on the road to forever with your soulmate is equal to Daylight.

"If we're talking about a slow dance then Serendipity would do the job." Jungwon intercepts, emotionless at the compromise that you made.

With your hands on your hips, you started chiding him for the unsought disrespect, "Boohoo, if you tried dancing to this then maybe you'll realize how amazing this is."

You shrieked when you were suddenly whisked to your spot, landing in the middle of the kitchen as Jungwon stands in front of you with an unwavering determination.

"Show me then maybe I'll understand your point." he mumbles, then you pause, is he actually telling you to dance with him? Right now? In his kitchen?

This is so random and ridiculous. What made him think that you'd do such a thing just to get your intention across a river of crocodiles to him.

"I don't have to do that!" you whined, glowering at him, crossing your arms in disdain.

You don't know what kind of evil spirit possessed him to act like this, but you don't like it. Simply because it's making you incredibly perturbed.

"I won't settle for Daylight then."

And like fate is by your side, the lights in his kitchen, without notice, sparked and then poof! Gone.

It was pitch black, and you'd think that this is the divine intervention that you needed to flee the nerve wrecking condition he's put you through.

You heard Jungwon cuss, sputtering some 'Jay-hyung' and 'fixed it my ass' before ordering you to stay right where you are.

Some shuffling was heard, you'd be astounded at how he's navigating in this blackout but you gathered that he'd probably memorized the layout of his own house by heart.

All of a sudden, the classical melody of Daylight plays loudly on his gigantic speakers, then a dim yellow light covers a small area to illuminate.

Mr. Smartpants used the refrigerator to cast a glow in the darkness, and now he is right there, situated right where he used to be, meeting you face to face and you're lost.

Lost in his eyes, in the way he saunters to you, his palms landing on your waist as he begins to move in sync with the velvety melody.

He speaks in the softest decibel you've ever heard, feathery touches scorched you despite the clothes that separate the tiny space between his hand and your skin.

"Show me, Y/N, and I'll believe you."

You could've pushed him away, but no, you just had to hold onto his broad shoulders, letting him swing you back and forth, delicately following the rhythm of the music in accordance to the beating of your heart.

The lyrics got stuck in your head when you dared to peek at him through your eyelashes, the truth dawning on you— Yang Jungwon is your daylight.

He was intertwined with you by destiny itself. Your black and white cinematics became golden when he entered your story.

Why did it have to go all wrong instead of the one that you prayed for?

"Y/N," Jungwon hushed, "you have no idea of how much I've missed you."

Each word was heavily punctuated with a certain yearning, and it may be the intimacy of the atmosphere or your unholy alcohol consumption, but you suddenly have this desire to cradle his face.

So you gave in to it. You only live once, so why not make the most of it when an opportune moment appears.

"Did you really?" he leaned into your touch, dangerously close yet you paid no heed to the warnings, choosing to relish in his warmth.

He mirrored your smile, dimples poking through his cheeks, and you're unable to refrain yourself from poking it. Fingers gliding on his smooth skin, digging on the inherent dent that the angels sculpted and gifted him with.

His arms are now fully wrapped around your waist, the tip of your noses tickling each other, his hot breath blows over your dry lips every time he exhales, a contrast to the icy ventilation generated from the opened refrigerator.

"I did. So fucking much that I asked your brother to set us up."

What did he do?

You dropped your arms to your sides, appalled at his confession, forcing you to move back from him, creating a minimal margin with furrowed brows, "What do you mean by that?"

He held you back, securing you in his arms because there's no way he's letting you go like he did before. No more blunders that he'll inevitably repent at a later date.

"My love, please, hear me out." it was his turn to cup your face, dropping all formalities and going back to the endearment that he used to call you.

When you didn't answer, he took that as a cue to continue, "You broke up with me through text, you avoided me, and I.. I thought it was done. That it really was the best for us to separate ways. I thought moving on would be the best option, but it wasn't. I went to a whole other city to forget you, but even there you followed me."

You were breathing rapidly, trying to cope up with the information that he was spilling, you opened your mouth, barely managing to utter a single question, "How come?"

"Because you are here," he grasped your hand, guiding it to his temple, "here," to his chest, "everywhere really." finally bringing your hand up to peck the back of it.

"Everything that I see there reminds me of you.. of us, but I endured the pain of living without you until I saw a photo of you with a guy on your social media." he chuckles, murmuring against your skin, "That shit got my head spinning and I knew I had to get you back."

In a flash, you were outraged, hearing his impulsive decision rooted from his ugly green monster. Your memories have been refreshed, the dead case now reopened from the grave. How dare he decide that he'll walk in your life again after the bullshit that he had carelessly spat.

"Wow! The audacity that you have." you mused, completely disengaging yourself from him in spite of the aching protests of your consciousness to stay still in his arms, "After telling people that you don't see a future with me? Now, you want me back?"

Your over the top 'Ha!' at the end of your sentence had Jungwon reeling in anger. Here you go again, acting out the stubborn lioness made out of sheep's wool.

He took slow but gnarly steps towards you, his eyes that held daggers pierced through your soul and that unlocked a new fear within you, causing you to take your own steps backwards. The cycle went on, until your back hit the counter.

You cursed at the deities of fortune for their inadequacy at today's chapter of 'Y/N escaping confrontation with Jungwon part 2.'

"You never let me unravel whatever shit you're thinking or hearing." Jungwon sneers with steady footsteps, and you had the conviction to stare right into his own orbs only to be thrown into the rabbit hole.

There he was, treacherous vibe and clenched fists but all you could distinguish are his porcelain features and glassy eyes. Never had you ever thought that anyone would look divine with only a somber gleam and shadows casted over their face.

Yang Jungwon had a great ability of proving your theories erroneous.

Finally, he towers over you, caging you with his hefty and sullen stature, "You didn’t hear the full conversation and you're quick to judge."

You gulped in anticipation, closing your eyes shut while gripping the marbled countertop and bracing yourself for the wave that will crash upon you.

"Y/N, I do not imagine you in my future." that stings, that shit hurts to the point that tears begin welling up, then your eyes are wide open at his next words, "You are not in my future because you are the future. My future. Do you get it? I don't imagine. I, indubitably, want you to be at the center of it all."

He speaks nothing but the truth. Seriously, what is the point of all this if at the end of his sail in the sea, he doesn't have the reason why he even went on the journey beforehand.

You are stupid, you think, willing yourself not to cry at your own ignorance.

Two things were validated: you are a very bad eavesdropper and an even worse decision-maker.

"W-won..I ruined everything we had, didn’t I?" you sniffed, lowering your head in shame.

"Baby, my flower," Jungwon whispers, hugging you tightly before tilting your chin so you're able to look at him again, "don't cry. Shh, it's okay."

"How can you sa- hmpf!" your sentence was cut short when a pair of lips went and shut you up.

It was a searing and soulful kiss, more than sufficient to convey the flickering love that kept on shining even during the seasons of yearning and ache.

It was the assurance that you needed, that you are and will always be forgiven despite the conflicts that you've caused. All is well, all is fine because as far as Jungwon is concerned, it's okay if the mess turned out to be an arson you orchestrated.

People might brand him as the batshit crazy kid in town, but he couldn't care less. You are his mess and he is your crazy. Thus, he will gladly burn for you if it means that his ashes will stick on you like a tattoo.

You unintentionally moaned when Jungwon bit your lower lip, aggressively shoving his tongue down your throat as he hoisted you up on the counter. His hands went to your exposed thighs, courtesy of you wearing shorts, while yours landed on his tuft of silky hair.

He situated himself in between your legs, tracing lines on your thigh and in stupor, you vaguely made out the 'mine' and a mini heart he drew beside it... or that may be your imagination taking a toll on you since his ministrations are definitely making you intoxicated.

Jungwon explored your mouth like a hungry beast, swiping over your gums, your teeth. It was a temporary fight for dominance, to which you gave in easily, allowing him to massage your own tongue in his.

He momentarily pulled away for oxygen, instructing you to stick your tongue out, and he managed to elicit another moan from you when he sucked on it, a sensual exchange of saliva occuring, causing you to tug on his hair.

A groan escaped from him, kissing you some more before detaching himself on your bruised lips, opting to slide his head down the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and smooching all over that had you giggling.

He smiles against your skin, mumbling something that kind of sounds like 'Gosh, I love hearing you laugh.'

It was such a sweet moment, then the man went wild. Licking up a stripe just below your ears, lightly nibbling on your lobe to make you squeal before dipping his head in your clavicle, sinking his teeth on your collarbone before soothing it with a kiss. He then kicked it up a notch, skidding your shirt on your left shoulder to uncover more of your skin for him to feast on.

He trailed kisses on your shoulder, up to your weak spot until he decided to bite and suck on it, making you gasp in pleasure. You whimpered his name, which basically egged him to paint you more in purple, marking you as his.

Jungwon's hands can't stay in place, roaming around your body until it slips inside your oversized shirt. His calloused palms set your skin ablaze as it snaked over your bra-clad breast, palming it for a while before moving towards your back, unclasping your under garment and removing it expertly out of your shirt.

His hand groped your chest, the other one almost ripped your shirt in a haste to reveal the upper fats of your mound, his mouth immediately attaching on it to suck some more hickeys.

You were getting antsy in your position, wiggling and moving around to find some friction due to your growing needs. One that was found on Jungwon's jeans, pressing your lower half on his in a desperate attempt for relief.

"Fuck, baby." Jungwon cursed when you grinded on his clothed hard-on, his heavy panting covering the expanse of the room, "If you continue doing that, I won't be able to control myself anymore."

Your hooded eyes made contact with his dark ones, then you made a conclusion, pulling him in for a few seconds of make-out session.

"Don't control yourself then, Wonnie. I'm yours."

His smirk tells you that you don’t have to say anything anymore, swooping you off the counter princess-style, "I'll show you what it means to be mine, then."

Day 7: Finalization

It was safe to say that Jungwon was losing his mind throughout this ordeal.

He was set to wake up with you by his side, but to his dismay, no trace of you were left the next morning after your.. eventful night.

Jungwon was so sure that he'll straighten things up with you.

He already made a promise that he'll take care of you, that he'll love you more than he used to. He clarified your misunderstanding, reassuring you that communication will be the key this time around.

All those honeyed and candid pillow talk for this tomfoolery to happen?

Jungwon is not known for bragging but heck, you were, without a doubt, sent to heaven back on earth when he showed you how much he misses, loves, and owns you.

So where the fuck are you and why did you leave him alone and cold in his bed?

You didn't block him per se, his messages and calls going through but he did realize that you're actively avoiding him again.

This is literally making his blood boil, add to that the piling stress of overseeing the venue and other things for the proposal tomorrow alone.

"Jungwon!"

Well no, technically he's not alone. Yeonjun graciously called another friend to assist him during your unexcused absence. (He was being dramatic because you're not here with him.)

"What!?" he snapped, looking at the shocked but amused older male.

"Damn, did someone spit in your coffee today?" the man cackled, nudging Jungwon with a teasing grin.

"I'll spit on you if you don't drop it." Jungwon scowled, not in the mood to play around, "What do you need, Jay-hyung?"

The American smirked, biting his lower lip to withhold himself from tittering and possibly further annoying the moody sheep, "The workers are asking where to put the cut outs. They need instructions."

Jungwon groaned, that was meant to be your job!

"Okay, I'll go there." he says, stomping his way into the middle of the garden, and if you look closely, you'll be able to see the popping veins in his forehead and the fuming smoke coming out his ears.

Jay shook his head, truly, you have no idea how much you affect Jungwon, don't you?

D-day

Jungwon was 100% sure that you wouldn't attend, but then you got him flabbergasted when you appeared in your splendid glory.

Oh, what a gem you are. Your make-up and hair are elegantly done, and he thinks you're taunting him when you wore that godforsaken backless blue dress that you hauntingly paired with black pumps.

That night, he was certain you were shunning him away for whatever reason you have... and he's going to uncover you.

Jungwon was basically a walking thundercloud in there, but thankfully, the celebration and proposal went on without a hitch.

It was an enchanting scenario, the way Yeonjun dropped on one knee, professing a lifetime of a home filled with happiness and prosperity. It made you tear up, especially when his girlfriend said yes, their genuine smiles and love touching you to no end.

Then a minute speech ensued, the couple appreciating everyone who was with them throughout their relationship, a special shout out for those who helped Yeonjun with the proposal, which included you and the name you don't wanna hear.

His girlfriend suddenly cleared her throat, announcing an unusual tradition that she wanted to do for a while now, "I know this is done during the wedding but I want to do this uniquely."

She then walked up to you, thrusting the bouquet in your hands, "I love you like you're my own sister. Y/N, I want you to be happy too, to get married someday. I know that you'll find the right man soon."

You gripped the bundle of flowers with resentment. You're drowning in the flood of doubts but you still managed to thank her with a small smile. She merely gave you a cheeky wink, returning to her former spot and throwing herself in your brother's arms.

The gathering continued, visitors dancing, eating and drinking while you stood there at the side, contemplating whether to join in on the fun or be the kill joy of the day.

A rookie mistake that you did though was when you looked up, directly staring into the chocolate orbs of the man that you recently gave your purity to, only for him to drop it on the floor to watch it shatter into pieces.

You hated yourself for giving in, but you hated it more when your heart rate sped up at the meager eye contact with him. You hated the fact that the world seemed to cease its rotation when you're hit with the reality that you're in his presence. 

Your vision might have gone bad because how come that he's the only thing that you could emphasize on while the others are nothing but bleary images.

This is incorrect, an imprecision. it made you sick to your stomach when his dimples revealed themselves, much so when you were compelled to kiss it.

You had to get out of here and take a breather.

Thus, you find yourself standing in front of a pond, back in some alley in the garden. Good thing that the venue is spacious, having this kind of area as a getaway car from the rambunctious spell that the gods have cast upon you.

"You should join a marathon for being such a good runner." a sarcastic voice had your body stone cold, anxiety enveloping your whole being at the looming adversary that you have to face.

"Thank you for the advice that I won't engage in." you tried to sound strong, but your voice box failed you when your sentence came out meek and shaky.

Jungwon chortled at the ridiculousness of the situation. He finds it funny how the progress went from 0 to 100 then back to 0.

"What are you laughing about?" you lifted an eyebrow, cautiously peering at his abrupt change in mood.

"You." he mutters, gnashing his teeth while he eyed you incredulously, "You're a whole circus, from giving me false hope to stepping all over my heart. Real clown right here."

That made you scoff, bewildered at his rude attitude, accusing you of these things when in your perspective, he was the one playing games all along.

"Aren't you aware that you are the embodiment of a personified clown?" you're an erupting volcano, and you couldn't hold it back anymore, "I trusted you! Then I wake up in the middle of the night, see a text message on your phone from an unknown number saying that your baby misses you."

Jungwon opened his mouth to speak, but no, you weren't done yet. This film is something you have seen before, except tonight, it's not through a cowardly text message, you'll say it directly to him.

"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."

A moment of silence. Then Jungwon gave you a bittersweet smile, turning around so you're now facing his back.

"Mrs. Shin asked me if I was lying to her about us not being together. She said that the way I looked at you was comparable to a devotee, like you are the reason for my being."

What? What is he talking about?

"When you were doting on Sunoo, you recall that kid back at the mall? Yeah him, I had this epiphany of you being my wife, the mother of my children."

This isn't the answer that you've been looking for, but it has you stunned to the core.

"That flower guy was annoying. His dimples got me jealous, got me carried away. When you acted as my girlfriend to fend off that presenter, I wished it was true. Then I couldn't shake the butterflies in my stomach when I put that ring on you. And during the fateful night, I really thought we had something going on there."

Jungwon's shoulder shook, his head moving upwards as an attempt to dry the moisture away. If this is how it's ending, then he'd let you go. But not after spilling his endless rumination and sentiments for you.

When you broke up with him, it felt like he was dying. He was an empty shell without you. He hated you for not giving him the chance to explain himself, but he hated himself more when he gave up and moved away to cover up his wounds.

Then he saw an opportunity to be with you again, and so, he begged Yeonjun to help him, but his efforts were all in vain, it seems.

"Y/N, I dreamt of you in a white gown, walking down the aisle of the red carpet. I've always prayed for you to be my endgame. But if I really don't have a chance with you anymore, then I'll bury all those dreams away."

He finished, letting the stream out, tired of holding it back. Tired of fighting a losing battle. He'll leave your life for good, heavy footsteps crackling under the pebbles. Then he stopped, "By the way, that message you saw was from my sister's new number. And the baby that was mentioned was my dog."

If there's an award for the best lunatic out there, it must be given to you. An amateur snooper that knows nothing but to misinterpret people.

You gulped and made a run for it, throwing the bouquet that you are still holding to fully embrace Jungwon from the back, burying your face in his expensive cashmere suit.

"The chance never left, Jungwon." you muttered softly, hugging him tighter to prevent him from leaving, "It never left, and it wants you to stay."

Jungwon lets out a weak laugh, "If you're doing this out of pity t-"

"No!" you cried out, because you're tired as well. Tired of hiding things from him, for foolishly keeping it all in when you could've talked it out.

You poured the stashed secrets. From the handmade paper ring that you were about to give him when you heard him in the student council room. to how you're afraid that college life might bring a fissure in your relationship, so you wanted to give him something that'll remind him of you and your love.

You told him that you cannot see a future without him, so you prematurely went into a heartbreak episode when you misunderstood his words. Every fault is a series of your insecurities and skepticism of a happy ending with him.

You confessed to him that you have always loved him, that your heart still belongs to him. You're just a plain idiot that couldn't communicate well but you swear, he's the only one that you'd choose in a room full of other men.

You spewed out promises of telling him whenever you're overthinking or overfeeling things. That you wouldn't get ahead of yourself next time, that you'd trust him more.

Your wrongdoings are not to be tolerated, but you'd do your best to make it up to him.

Jungwon finally turns around, his dried tear stains on his cheeks pains you, yet he's a sweetheart, wiping your own salty tears in lieu of his.

"The paper ring." he mumbles while bolstering your cheeks on his palms in a silly manner, pressing his forehead on yours, "Make me that paper ring again, this time give it to me."

You nod with the full intent of handing him the gift with the oath of staying by his side until you have both achieved your dreams and aspirations in life. 

Pinky promises are mainstream, adorable yes, but the best is sealing a promise with a kiss.

The buzzing noise of the party in the garden turned into white noise, the focal point is on the subject of your affection. The man who is currently kissing you under the stars. 

There is this one term that you read once, ‘Ephemeral.’

It was a pretty word, but its meaning is sorrowful. 

Yet with Jungwon, seeing the silver lining of the word is easier than studying for an exam.

The pain, arguments, hugs, kisses, and life itself is short-lived. Fleeting memories forgotten when you’re gray and old. Still, that gives you more reason to rejoice the moments as much as you can.

Besides, if Yang Jungwon is by your side, then every ephemeral will last perpetually.

taglist

@yzzyhee @maymarrylhs @dreamiestay @moon4moony @vixensss @star4rin @heelee-01 @ramenoil @lilyuwon

[55szn]

lacy - mv1

max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max

wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)

warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry

a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah

YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.

She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.

YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.

The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.

The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.

She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.

But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.

Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.

It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.

She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?

She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.

Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q2, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.

The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.

He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?

He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.

She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.

"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.

"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."

YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?

When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."

"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.

Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."

"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.

The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."

He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.

"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.

Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.

"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."

The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.

But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven 4 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)

My masterlist is here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of fear and worry, pregnant!reader, ansgt

You were happy. You were feeling like everything was as it should be. You even started to forget about this whole story of Bruces being switched from parallel universes. The children too. The Justice League saw a difference in Batman but they didn’t press the subject when they also noticed how the children were acting around him. You were a real family. 

The “new” Bruce was always a little bit worried that the “real” Bruce would come back, but with time, he slowly let his guard down. He had a nightmare about it a few nights ago, but when he woke and found you by his side, he calmed down. He had wrapped his arm around, his hand resting on your belly. You were pregnant with his child and he was the happiest man on Earth. He was certain it was going to be a baby girl. You woke up a little before happily humming into his embrace, intertwining your fingers with his.

“All good, my love?” you whispered

“Just checking on my darlings” he murmured back as he kissed your shoulder

“Love you” you smiled

“Love you too” he replied with a smile matching yours

Your bedroom door cracked open then and you both saw Damian peering inside the room.

“Come, baby” you gestured to Damian to come closer

Damian was still a little bit unsure around this new version of his father. Of course, he seemed more caring and more protective, while still being a genius detective and an amazing warrior. But he still felt like he was betraying his original father.

“Everything alright?” Bruce asked

“Just a nightmare” Damian whispered, almost ashamed

You made room for Damian who settled against you. Bruce gently stroked his hair until the child fell asleep under his touch. You smiled even more. Your lover was going to be such a good father to your child.

You were at the hospital for a little check up on you and the baby. Bruce was supposed to join you there once he would be done with a quick meeting at Wayne Enterprises.

The real Bruce Wayne saw an opportunity. He knew his plan was drawing attention and that his other self and children would quickly understand… But he needed to reach you. He easily hacked the security of WE and he made sure that the breach would be seen and a problem to take care of as fast as possible. He hoped it would allow him to come find you while the other Bruce would have to deal with the little mess he created.

You were still in the waiting room when your actual husband showed up. He was glad he had bought several safe houses and that they held enough money and suits for him to look good. Your eyes instantly lit up when you saw Bruce, even though you could tell something seemed different. Bruce smiled back and leaned to kiss you. He so happily cupped your chin to deepen the kiss. He was a starving man who just wanted his wife back. Gosh, he almost forgot how good it was to get his lips on yours. You chuckled before gently pushing him away

“Come on, Bruce. There are people around us” you said, a little bit surprised

“Sorry, love. Missed you so much” he whispered to you

“We saw each other this morning” you replied, you were refusing to understand what this meant

“We really haven’t” Bruce replied

Your first thought was to worry about your lover. If your husband was there, did it mean that he had been sent back to his own world? You felt sick. You felt your phone buzzing in your bag and checked the notification: “Sorry, my love. We’ve got a security breach, I’ll do my best to be at the hospital as soon as possible”. You calmed down a little bit, even though you were unsure about what to do.

“What is going on?” you murmured

Bruce was about to say something when the nurse came to find you. You both followed her. You tensed a little when the man placed a hand on your back and he felt it. He moved closer so he could whisper into your ear.

“Come on, darling, it’s me” he tried to reassure you “Don’t be afraid, I’ll make things better very soon. I just need your help” he added and you didn’t answer

You settled in the room for the echography. Bruce stayed by your side the whole time, until the nurse asked him to go out so she could have a chat with just you. She had noticed you were a little bit stressed out today and she wanted to make sure everything was alright.

You apologised to the nurse.

“I’m sorry, I received a message before the consultation… I’m just going to make a very quick call, is it alright?” you asked and the nurse nodded.

You instantly took your phone and called your lover. As usual, the man answered right away.

“Is everything alright, my love? Are you out of the hospital already?” he asked and your silence instantly worried him “What happened?”

“He’s here” you simply said and your Bruce instantly understood what it meant

“Alright, my love. Take a deep breath, the stress is bad for you and the baby. I promise you I’ll make things better very soon” he told you “I just need you to come back home and relax, okay?” he added

“But he’ll probably follow me home” you worried

“When you’ll get out of the hospital, go find Alfred in the car and call Dick. Give him the emergency code and he’ll quickly come over. Can you do that for me, my love?” he instructed you

“Yes, okay. See you later” you said

“Keep me in check, my love.”

“You too”

You hung up before going back to the consultation. The nurse finished the tests she wanted to do and finally let you go. Bruce was waiting for you. He grabbed your hand and gently kissed the back of it.

“Let’s go home” he hummed and you nodded

Your silence was breaking the man even more

“I know you must feel very confused” he started “and it must be a shock that there are now two Bruce Wayne in town. But I’m your husband, I’m the real one. You have no idea how hard it has been to come back home. And even though the child isn’t really mine, I’m so excited to see you pregnant. I can’t wait for this new addition to the family” he said, thinking you were stressed out because of you discovering you cheated on him with another self

“How do I know you’re the real one?” you asked, you were trying to gain some time. “Look, I just need to call Dick. I promised him to do so after my consultation at the hospital and he’ll worry if I don’t”

“Of course, go ahead”

You grabbed your phone and called Dick, as you entered the car. Alfred was a little bit surprised by your gloomy face before noticing that Master Bruce wasn’t wearing the same clothes as this morning. There was a crazed glitter in his eyes as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dick answered

“It’s just to let you know that everything is alright with the baby, but I’m not too sure I’ll be able to make it at tonight's party.” you replied and you heard Dick getting up and grabbing his coat

“Where are you?” he replied back

“Soon home” you hummed, relieved your eldest son was always so ready to help

“I’ll be there”

--

PART 5

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

Taglist for this series <3

@bat1212

@karakento

@kneelforloki

Thanks for the ideas & the comments <3

@motherofdragons1998

@silverklaus

@optimisticmoonunknown

@alishii

@kazuko-stuff

@makanirock05

[absolutebl]

Top 10 Most Underrated BLs of the last 3 years

(mid year 2021 - end 2023)

This list will not include BLs that ended their run in 2024. I need some distance to know if something is actually underrated (We Are maybe?) or justifiably ignored.

1 I Cannot Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan 2023 Netflix?)

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, increasingly unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life, which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen. Full review.

2 My Ride (Thai 2022 Gaga)

Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever pulp to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest, and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi rider in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple. Full review.

3 Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan 2023 Gaga)

A lonely salaryman (+ talented cook) gets accidentally adopted by a college kid (and his little brother). I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the original yaoi (which is very dear to my heart). And they did! Paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

4 About Youth (Taiwan 2022 Gaga)

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit. Full review.

5 Step By Step (Thai 2023 Gaga)

This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This office romance between a stern boss and sweet subordinate felt more authentic to cubical work than previous Thai BLs of this ilk. That authenticity added tension to the narrative and its characters development (how novel). I also really enjoyed the charming side characters and the brothers' relationship to each other (although I could have done without that brother's side BL). Full review.

6 DNA Says Love You (Taiwan 2022 Gaga)

DNA deserves extra marks for an upbeat approach to a queer story arc that other shows have systemically mishandled with sadness (in the guise of realism). There is a twist, which I found predictable, but knowing what would happen didn't spoil this show. The leads are luminous and engaging, and it’s full of queer found family representation and an unexpected amount of domesticity, plus it’s Taiwan, so the kisses are great. The first few eps are rough going but have patience, it's worth it I promise! The second half is really special and life/love affirming - and the end is big-grin charming. Full review.

7 Unintentional Love Story (Korea 2023 iQIYI)

Of all the BLs on this list, this is probubly the MOST underrated. OMG the plot! Uke forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the PAIN in those gorgeous eyes. Gah. Okay, so: A boy loses his job due to trumped-up corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back, if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). Full review.

8 Dear Doctor I'm Coming for Your Soul (Thai 2022 iQIYI)

This is a romance between a doctor trying to save his patients and a reaper who is both his enemy and (eventual) lover (basically the genius premise of a gay Doom at Your Service). High concept looks good on you, Thailand. It’s lovely to see KarnNat back on screen together and they are still great, and Karn is just as painfully beautiful as ever. I enjoyed this one more than its ending deserved, and the best I can say is that it’s not strictly HEA but if you’re okay with Life: Love on the Line, you’ll be okay with this BL. It’s set up well, there’s no surprise unpleasantness like HIStory 3: The BL that shall not be named. Full review.

9 Destiny Seeker (Thai 2023 WeTV)

A darn near perfect pulp featuring 3 likable grumpy/sunshine pairings with uncomplicated iterations of enemies to lovers. At least one half of each does a decent amount of pining and there’s good chemistry, classic tropes, and excellent communication rep. It’s fun and full of linguistic jokes. Sublimely cheesy but a good rainy day offering with tons of rewatch potential. (Also WAR PEANUTS!) Full review.

10 Make a Wish (Thai 2023 grey)

A doctor who can see the dead strikes a bargain with a wish-granting irreverent tree angel - naturally they fall in love (from Sammon: Manner of Death & Triage). Stars Fluke Natouch opposite not Ohm, but who cares because Fluke has chemistry with everybody. Once again the Thai afterlife is incredibly bureaucratic but I enjoyed the premise and the unfolding of the story (it’s not predictable but still satisfying and with nice little twist). I like that the doctor is just gay AF - fag hag bestie and made of swagger. The cast is excellent but the comedic stylings are a bit overblown and tonally off. It has sad parts and did make me cry but is ultimately happy with a great sex scene, good smiley kisses, and all the agency.

10 others I rarely see anyone talk about:

Triage - Many would put this at the top of the list, but I don't find it very rewatchable and that weighs a lot in my assessments. Still it is GOOD and very underrated. BL does Groundhog Day featuring a doctor stuck in a time loop who must save a poor little rich boy from death by seducing the stuffing out of him, then PLOT TWIST, poor little rich boy must do the same for doctor! Unfortunately… stuffing keeps leaking. I thought the plot was engaging if a little redundant and occasionally exhausting. The pairs were all well done, low heat but with decent chemistry and the support characters were likable (or unlikeable, as required). My reason it's not in the top 10? If anything, the romance arc detracted and distracted from the main plot, but that doesn't stop this from being a genuinely good show it's just time loop is not a trope I personally enjoy. Review here.

See You After Quarantine? - This under appreciated gem is Taiwan’s answer to Gameboys and is just as charmg and adorable yet still as quintessentially Taiwanese as one might hope. It features a Japanese love interest and the cutest most confused disaster gay. Slow burn because the two have almost no actual screen time together and yet manage some truly amazing chemistry. Honestly how does Taiwan do it?

The Tasty Florida - I don't know, maybe it's Speed nostalgia, but I love this one, classic Korean BL with all those strengths and flaws... but The Prettiest.

You Make Me Dance - it's Korea but somehow they got this one, maybe by featuring mature characters and a real world crisis? Also they both ve hot.

Blueming - at the time it got a lot of attention but it seems to have faded into obscurity under the shod of The 8th Sense and Love of Love's Sack. This was a precurser to both and well worth a watch if you like it when Korea gets a little gritty.

Love Stage!! (Thai version) - I liked this IP alerady more than most. But this is the best of the 4 adaptations, and the first full Thai version of Japanese IP. It's both charming and notable in the industry. Hard to find and that's why it gets so little creddit but I think it's well worth the effort to track down.

Oh! Boarding House - I think most who watched this din't jive with it because it's an ensamble piece witha wicked love traingle. But I really enjoyed it. It felt like the move Kdrama BL that Korea has given us and I like me some Kdramas.

What Zabb Man! - one of the better BLs to come out of Star Hunter in the last few years. I like this pair a lot more than most, and the sides are wicked great. This is probably one of my favorite food themed BLs, actually.

2 Moons The Ambassador - possibly the lowest scoring BL to appear on this list but I just really like the leads. Nothing else is good, but they are kinda awkwardly fantastic. I also like how gay af the seme is.

Stay By My Side - This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Despite a strong initial premise it ended up mostly being enjoyable for sappy domesticity but nothing more. Still, I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity.

Requested by the lovely @l1xyz

FYI: I judge “underrated” on the strength of what I see people talk about (or more precisely not talk about) on social media, MDL reviews, and YouTube watch numbers (when available, as compared to comparable shows from the same country). 

Because of this, statistically, there will always be quite a few BLs that are difficult to get hold of.

Here's my pulls of the Top Underrated BLs prior to 2021. Considering the amount of content generated over the last few years, the pool to draw from is likely about the same.

My Top 10 Most Underrated BLs prior to 2021

Seven Days

Restart after Come Back Home

Wish You

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding

He’s Coming to Me

Oxygen

My Day

Most Peaceful Place

HIStory 2: Right or Wrong

HIStory: Obsessed

I'd throw Great Men Academy in there, but I always dither over whether it actually is a BL.

[wilcze-kudly]

Aang is great because almost every ship you can put him in instantly becomes top-tier.

Like:

Kataang- they literally make me cry every single time I think of them. Their love story is wonderful and genuinely heartwarming. It symbolises healing and peace for both of them and the literal world. He showed her the world and he's her biggest supporter and she always defends him and they find solace in each other because they understand what it's like to be the last of their respective kind. And they're each other's hope and just... ahhh. They're so much more than the vanilla hero gets the girl ship people paint it as. Haters stay mad or smth.

Zukaang- the symbolism? They're the actual Ying and Yang of the show! The Rozin parallels? Them standing in a vortex of rainbow fire as two dragons (the blue one like Aang's tatoos facing zuko and the other one, red like Zuko's general colour scheme facing Aang) forming a heart shape around them? Zuko was literally searching for Aang and found his redemption in Aang and Aang made him a better person and Aang is literally the only person who genuinely experienced Fire Nation culture before the war and he clearly values it and he's helping Zuko bring peace to the world and the nation...

Taang- The og tomboy x soft boy dynamic. He's literally the person that helped her free herself from her parents and Air is the element of freedom? And she teaches him when to stand firm like the Earth? And I love when they do synchronised earthbending it's so satisfying and they work so well together. Toph having lost her face in one of Aang's nightmares is also a nice parallel to Ummi and Kuruk. (One caveat though: i hate taang being used as a "get Aang out of the way" side ship to Zutara)

Sokaang- they kinda come out of left field for me but the more I think about them the more obsessed I become. It's all about a teenage boy who has been forced into a role that demanded way too much of him finally learning to trust and rely on others. It's about Sokka finally living out the childhood that he was forced to grow out of. Sokka also has such a cute bond with Momo and more importantly, Appa, Aang's animal soulmate. The fics write themselves.

Sukaang- ok, I know Suki and Aang barely interacted in the show but like Hear me out.Suki is so connected to one of Aang's past lives. And she saved Appa, which would totally bond her and Aang (genuinely distressed that this was never discussed in canon). And they both value a sense of community so much, and Aang was one of the people who inspired Suki to leave Kyoshi to help others. Plus, there could be some amazing Rangshi parallels if Suki became Aang's bodyguard instead of Zuko's, which could be very plausible.

Azulaang- I adore this ship because I genuinely think Aang could really help Azula find her redemption. Hell, he was so nice to her in The Search and she literally killed him. Plus I've already laughed about how it would absolutely kill Ozai. The mental crisis Azula would go through due to fallingin love with Aang would be hilarious, and also the guilt over everything she's done, as Aang's kindness makes her realsie she was on the wrong side this whole time. He's one of the only people who can beat her at her prime and he doesn't seem to fear her at all, which is rare for her. Aang could give her the unconditional love she so desperately craves and needs.

Maiaang- genuinely adorable to me. Other than the obvious grumpy x sunshine trope, Maiaang has a lot of potential. Mai seems to genuinely like Aang in the comics, which is really cute. I also think Aang would be able to help Mai express her more positive emotions, other than just anger. Also something about the girl who was forced to remain silent and passive her whole life learning to finally let go and allow herself to just live with the help of probably one of the most active and expressive characters of the show has me by the throat. Plus, he got along great with her lil bro!

Tyaang- They're so similar and cute and bubbly! They'd have tons of fun together and I just know Ty Lee would teach Aang some gymnastics and he really enjoy it! I think he can also find Ty Lee's chiblocking very cool, since it is essentially a great way to deal with a conflict without causing permanent damage. Very airbendery. Speaking of which, Ty Lee is also very airbendry herself. I can genuinely see her finding herself in Air Nomad culture and be excited to help revive it.

Onjaang- i just find this ship so funny because imagine being a random schoolgirl in the fire nation and not only rizzing up a demigod but rizzing that demigod up successfully. This ship can also go so many ways depending on On Ji's reaction to that random cute guy who threw a cool dance party is actually the Avatar, so it's certainly interesting.

Yuaang- the ultimate cinnamon roll x cinnamon roll ship. But more than that, there's of course the Yue becoming the Moon Spirit and Aang getting lowkey possessed by the grieving Ocean Spirit. There's Yue appearing when Aang needed her most, while he's stranded in the middle of the ocean and helping him. They both understand sacrifice and responsibility, and maybe they could comfort each other through it. Also Aang being the bridge between the spirit worlds and Yue being a Spirit could lead to a very interesting romance, depending on how much the Avatar could interact with the Moon Spirit.

Jetaang- ok, Aang was just as infatuated with Jet as Katara was, right? And I think Aang was heavily affected by Jet's actions and behaviour. Also Aang really not wanting to hurt Jet while fighting him (twice!) was really cute. And Aang helping Jet snap out of the Dai Li brainwashing could be a really cool ship moment the more you think anout it.

Teoaang- Honestly their little one sided rivalry at the beginning of the episode was really cute. And I think there could be some interesting symbolism between them. Aang symbolising the old and Teo symbolising the new. They compliment each other like that. Teo comforting Aang by showing him that the critters of the temple are still alive and well is also sweet. And Aang admitting that Teo has the spirit of an airbender is so sweet.

Kuzaang- they're adorable. I loved the comic about them. Aang calling Kuzon "Hotman" is really funny. Aang helping Kuzon make a bigger flame with airbending is also really sweet. I especially like this ship in combination with Zukaang. It's such tasty symbolism.

Aang may just be the most shippable charater of this franchise, argue with the wall. He's so filled with love I have no choice but to multiship.

[fivelasanctum]

Everything is real

S03 ep.07 and S04 ep.06 parallel: Been doing my rewatch of the series and noticed this gem inside Lila's psyche when she was talking to Allison being reminiscent of her yelling that her and five's life in the alternate timelines wasn't real. A blatant contradiction to what she mentioned here. "This isn't real Five! None of this is real!" -Lila S04 ep.05 Events when time travelling are real and still impact you, just can happen quickly and feel like a whirlwind. She also goes to mention to have something or someone to focus on to essentially keep you sane and grounded.

Five comes in right after they have this conversation, zooming in on him as he came to fetch them for the plan. Hmmmm...xD When Five and her get lost in the subway time travelling system, her focus point is her kids. Just as Lila became Five's purpose for surviving. To protect her and try to get her back home to them. Five also became her focus point. Just secondary to their shared goal. Being together, relying on the other for survival (initially), comfort and affection. Eventually falling for each other since they can sit down and have time to see how they are mirrors of each other in many ways. Lila has shown she has mental barriers both around her heart and mind. Self preservation. Much like Five with his own control over his emotions and keeping others at a distance from all his years alone and serving as an assassin. Lila has the same trauma... with being brought up by the handler and living in the same life. She lied about Stanley to Diego as a way to test him if he would be a good father because she was scared and didn't want to be rejected. Possibly lying about being with many people to make him jealous. Mind games that she probably was taught by the Handler.

In the above images you can see that lila is a very human character with inexplicable flaws. Seeing herself far too broken to have a family and cowardly. She tends to go for the jugular to hurt when she has been harmed or upset emotionally. She goes into denial and tries to run away from her problems to a certain extent. Whereas Five has always cut to the quick with his brutal honesty. Telling her Diego loves her but also the cold truth of how her mother never did. Making her almost cry so she lashed out by diminishing his experience by calling Dolores out for what she actually was. Something to note from their argument in season 4 leading up to their return to their present timeline. He confronted her about what they shared in all those years and that the marriage was broken. Lila lies to herself sometimes and wanted to run away from having to think about anything outside of seeing her kids.

I strongly feel she said those words to Five about it being all about survival and it not being real because she felt betrayed with his lies. Even though his words weren't wrong. She couldn't say anything to his reasoning for doing it. "You know why." Still - it's true to her character. When she saw the hurt on her lovers face...think that's when most of the anger faded from her. Replaced with a sense of powerlessness, sadness and resignment. Yearning to stay there in their happiness bubble (it was still their Anniversary when all this went down) but needing to have her kids back. She appeared as though she was ready to cry because in her heart she didn't want anything to change regarding the two of them. Just trying to push him away yet can't stand hurting him. Perhaps it's difficult for her to hold herself back from that defense mechanism.

This is the look of someone eager to get back to her old married life with the kids right? Again, ready to cry with the situation weighing heavy on her heart. Think why she had tunnel vision to focus on just seeing her kids again was because she didn't want to ponder what happens next with her relationship with Five, talking to Diego...figuring everything out. Damn. This was suppose to be a short post but turned into a mini essay. In short...she was lying about what they have not being real. Just tried to push it away due to in the moment anger with the reveal.

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 12 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, some angst, DESCRIPTIVE SMUT with maybe 1 pet name and 2 jokes, a bunch of reminiscing and relentless flirting (bc jungkook is dowwnnnn badddd), praise kink if you squint?, minors please don't interact

words: 7.6k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 12 ► fall into your eyes like a grave, bury me to the sound of your name

You and Jungkook were silent for a solid fifteen minutes after you let him into your hotel room. You were both sitting on the bed, but with so much distance between you that it felt like you were on two different floors.

After your phone on the bedside table lit up for the sixth time in the last fifteen minutes, Jungkook finally spoke up.

“Your phone keeps buzzing,” he pointed out helpfully.

“Yeah.” You sighed. Being silent with Jungkook oddly felt less draining than dealing with whatever was happening on your phone. “It’s Kai.”

Jungkook nodded, remembering your brother’s misadventures the last time you two talked. He was almost happy to use that as an excuse to dance around the elephant in the room a little longer.

“How is he?” he asked. “With his broken…”

“Leg, yeah,” you finished, leaning your head against the headboard. “He’s home. Mum’s grounded him. She’s turned off the router and taken his Xbox, so he’s texting me because he’s got nothing else to do.”

Remembering how angry you were when your brother got himself into trouble and upset your mum, Jungkook asked with a small smirk on his lips, “and you had nothing to do with the Xbox?”

You shook your head. “I don’t believe it’s an appropriate punishment to withhold things from your children. I think it makes them withdraw from their parents, especially when they’re seventeen like Kai. And it makes them annoy their siblings instead,” you paused. Then shrugged. “But I’m not a parent, so easy for me to say.”

Dignified, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“You’ve contributed greatly to raising your brother,” he said in a voice full of contempt for your family’s general tendency to use the nine-year age difference between you and your brother as an excuse to have you babysit for free.

Although your heartbeat increased at the sound of his confidence—and his almost reflexive habit of defending you from yourself—your outward appearance remained composed. It was easy to appear collected when you weren’t looking at him and he felt so far away.

“And look at him now,” you said, an ironic smile on your face. “A mess.”

Jungkook snickered. “He’s really not that bad.”

Sighing again, you ran a hand through your hair and felt your fingers get caught in the last strand, only adding to your frustration with your brother.

“Sure. He’s a good kid,” you said, looking up at Jungkook. “But he tries too hard.”

Jungkook saw the parallel, he felt it. You might as well have said that about him.

At last, it seemed like the time had come to address the real reason he’d come to your room. He knew that this casual chit-chat was only temporary anyway. But if he wasn’t careful, it would be the last time the two of you spoke to each other with such ease, such familiarity.

He cleared his throat and said, “this might be the hardest conversation we have.”

He didn’t need to elaborate, you understood. And still, you thought about his words for a moment and decided to disagree.

“Or the easiest,” you said. “I mean, everything important that we could have said, we’ve pretty much said already.”

He blinked, surprised at first. Then dizzy.

There were several things he wanted to say to you, but he expected to listen to you first. He knew you wouldn’t initiate a conversation about your feelings, but he’d hoped this was different, especially considering all that you’d said to each other on the street.

It wasn’t different. You sat across from him on the bed and you looked a little uncomfortable, but not particularly confounded.

He’d expected to find you grappling with questions, armoured with rightful accusations, but you appeared settled.

Maybe it’s because it’s been four years, he realised suddenly. He hadn’t been there to watch you build your defences. He hadn’t seen your walls grow.

He worried, suddenly, that nothing he’d say would mean anything to you. He worried that the only reason you let him into your room was to deliver the finishing blow—to tell him that you were done one more time.

He switched the arm he was leaning against the bed with; his right arm was slowly going numb. Actually, so was his left, and, if he was completely honest, his whole body felt a bit like it was floating away from him, but he tried to focus on the moment.

“Uh, w-we haven’t said everything,” he said.

You looked at him. “What else is there?”

“Two things.”

Inhaling sharply, you turned away. You did not really want to continue the discussion you’d had by the canal. In fact, you didn’t think there was anything to continue at all.

You’d walked away as soon as you realised that you’d come face-to-face with your break-up. And this was it. You’ve found the reason why this could never work. Why you and him together could never work. And it was truly simple: it’s because it hadn’t worked before. You already knew it, but you enjoyed the leisure of pretending that you didn’t.

All that you two had to do now, in your opinion, was reach a formal agreement that this would be it. You’ve explored each other’s boundaries enough during this tour. The time has come to stop. To go back to your normal lives, your regular jobs and duties.

However, now that he was here, there was hesitation behind your closed eyes. You had learned that the two of you had different ideas about why you broke up. And you’d spent four years boiling in them, convincing yourselves you’ve moved on from them, then facing them head-on when you really looked at each other again.

Perhaps there were a few more things you had to talk about, after all, before you could truly put this behind you.

Finally, you nodded your head once and told him, “okay. What’s the first thing?”

“The first thing,” he started, “is that I'm sorry.”

It was well known that “sorry” wasn’t always a heavy word. People threw it around like a pebble and watched it bounce off the surface of the water, rarely ever intending for it to sink, to reach the depths not visible to the naked eye. Jungkook had been one of those people many times in his life.

But the word he used here felt different.

It carried a weight that forced him to lower his head as he said it. As if all his thoughts had been poured into this sentence – this fateful “I’m sorry” – and the heaviness of it was difficult to bear. As if he’d assigned different meanings to each “sorry” in his head, and all these little pieces suddenly added up to one big word that took up the whole room.

“For not realising what I was doing back then,” he said, dissecting the apology, “and what it meant for our relationship.”

He figured there wasn’t much that you could say that would make it easier for him to breathe – the conversation by the canal, the bet, the apology, all of it was too significant to leave much room for oxygen in his lungs.

But you said, “I forgive you.”

And it felt a lot like you were performing emergency resuscitation and successfully maintaining his brain function.

He wasn’t certain if you’d said that because it was the right thing to say, or because you’d meant it. If it was the former, Jungkook would have rather suffocated.

“You do?” he asked, unsure if he was prepared for your explanation.

“Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t know that you weren’t—that you didn’t realise why—why we broke up the way we did. And it sucks that you didn’t, but…”

You faltered here and Jungkook was keenly aware how you’d said it sucks, but you’d really meant it hurt me. It hurt that he’d been dismissive, negligent, and heedless – and had the audacity not to realise it.

He closed his eyes while you finished, “it sucks more to know that, all this time, you thought I’d just walked away for no good reason.”

An apology was on the tip of your tongue, he could sense it. Although you had many reasons to be angry with him for being so impossibly stupid, you also felt guilty because all this time, he had thought you woke up one morning and suddenly decided you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Like it was your fault that he didn’t realise he’d been taking you for granted every day for months before you broke up.

You should have been angry with him. Instead, you thought you were responsible for not explaining your reasoning properly before you left.

He couldn’t even begin to describe the ache in his chest. He wanted you so much, but more and more he realised that he didn’t deserve you.

“I didn’t try to stop you,” he said before you could say anything else, because this was another element of his initial apology. One more thing he had to be sorry for.

You shrugged with one shoulder. Over the years, you’d come up with several reasons why he never fought for your relationship, not even considering that he might have assumed you had fallen out of love with him. At the end of every day, you simply thought he didn’t care anymore.

“I thought you were okay with it,” you said. “When I told you we were over, you just stood there. You didn’t ask why and I didn’t... answer.”

“I wasn’t okay with it,” he replied. “But I didn’t think there was anything I could do.”

With a thoughtful nod, you agreed, “there probably wasn’t.”

“Yeah, but I felt that way because I assumed that you—you didn’t want to be with me. That you didn’t care about me anymore. And you, uh,” he stopped here and waited for a long minute. Finally, he inhaled deeply. “You thought the opposite.”

You probably should have shouted at each other as you discussed this, you thought abruptly. That would have been appropriate. Maybe even healthy, all things considered.

But then, perhaps the realisation that you both had different views on why you broke up was precisely the thing that softened the impact. His hurt because you’d left him without an explanation, and your anger because he made you do it—they both took up outstanding amounts of space in your chests. They weighed you down. And they almost balanced each other out.

Perhaps you weren’t ready to shout just yet. Or not anymore.

Perhaps you’d left most of the shouting in the past four years ago. Now you were finally on the verge of closure.

That was the point, after all: the two of you boasted—really, there was no other word for it, you were both proud of it—that you’d never spoken to anyone about the details of your relationship.

That could have been admirable, of course, this utter devotion to each other and no one else. Except that, you didn’t talk about your relationship with each other, either.

“Do you think this is our own fault?” you asked. “We were good at talking about everything except… well, us.”

“I know,” Jungkook was quick to agree. You had both been like this from the very beginning—that’s likely why he was never fully aware of his behaviour. You’d always argued, but never about the things that really mattered. “I nearly threw up before I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

You did a double take, your mind racing to supply you with a memory that matched his words, but coming up short.

You squinted at him. “Did you actually ask?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but let it hang there, no words coming out for a good minute.

“You don't remember?!” he accused, his voice so high-pitched that it could almost shatter glass.

“I remember going on at least five dates before someone called you,” you explained, “and I heard you say into your phone, ‘sorry, I’m with my girlfriend.’ And that’s when I assumed that, huh. I guess I’m your girlfriend then.”

Jungkook could remember this exact moment. It was Sid who had called him because the two of them were working for Sid’s grandfather fixing his Camaro at the time. Jungkook had needed the money, while Sid simply enjoyed the ‘69 classic car.

The memory sent a shiver down his spine because he recalled turning Sid down. He had prioritised you over everything back then. What had happened to him later?

Regardless – in Jungkook’s mind, the timeline of your relationship was different.

“I vividly remember asking you on our second date,” he said.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you attempted to remember the very beginning of your relationship.

Your first date was the traditional movie and dinner—although it turned into a movie and the rain when you got stuck in the park. You recalled the whole day with near-perfect clarity.

Your second date was a week later, at the carnival in town. It took you three hours to get back to your dorms, because the event was held across the forest that separated the university campus from a small town nearby. Jungkook had insisted that you could walk home, he had claimed to know the way. And then he proceeded to get you lost within a few seconds of entering the forest.

All you could remember him asking you back then, was, ‘I know where I’m going, so trust me, okay?’ and that certainly did not include any terms that specified your relationship status.

Confused if you were remembering this wrong, you asked, “when we got lost on our way home from the carnival?”

“Before that!” he was even louder now, both of his hands in the air as he frantically explained, “on the Ferris wheel! I can’t believe you don’t remember!”

“On the Ferris—Jungkook, you had motion sickness the whole time we were on it,” you reminded him.

“I wasn’t sick,” he argued. “I was nervous.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “All you said to me during that entire ride was ‘please’ when we were at the very top.”

“That was me asking!”

“That was—” You laughed in surprise before you could finish the sentence. “Okay, well, you can see why I wouldn’t remember that, considering you didn’t use a lot of words to explain what you meant. I thought you were asking me to end the ride. Not that I could have ended it, but—”

“You said yes, though.”

You didn’t think you heard him right, his tone noticeably lower compared to the agitated screaming before. “Hm?”

“When I said, ‘please?’,” he spoke, “you said, ‘yes.’”

You watched him, considering it.

“I think I was asking,” you said and demonstrated, “yes?”

“No. You made a statement,” he disagreed, showing you, “yes.”

You pursed your lips, choosing to quit before this escalated into an argument.

“Alright, fine,” you said. “Maybe I read your mind, then.”

He scoffed, turning away. “And forgot about it…”

Nevermind taking the high road.

“Well, I didn't think it meant anything,” you argued, “you were—”

“I had a different plan. I was going to fully embrace The Notebook and dangle from someone else’s seat to ask you,” Jungkook said, “but for that to work, you would’ve had to go on the ride with someone else. And at that point, I couldn’t let you sit in that cabin with someone who wasn’t me.”

You could feel your cheeks stretching as an involuntary smile spread across your lips.

“That’s a little crazy,” you said gently.

“Please,” he replied, lowering himself on your bed until he was lying on his back. “It’s just crazy. I went on a binge-watching session of romantic films before our first few dates. I did my research.”

You knew him too well not to point out, “was it really only for research?”

“Alright, after the first few, I started to really enjoy them,” he admitted, earning a knowing nod from you. He smiled in response and continued, “but then I got to know you better, and I figured that if I serenaded you like Heath Ledger did in 10 Things I Hate About You, you’d break up with me immediately.”

Your laughter sounded so sincere and calming that Jungkook felt his smile widen as he turned his head to look at you from where he was lying on your bed.

“So I became a singer instead,” he said, encouraged by the lightness in your laugh. “You can’t break up with me if singing for you is my job.”

Your stomach performed an intricate Loop-the-Loop and then dropped, seemingly down ten floors, all the way to the lobby of the hotel.

Desperate, you tried, “you’re not—it’s not—”

Noticing you were about to downplay his words—either because you didn’t think he meant it, or because you didn’t feel comfortable knowing that he did—Jungkook changed the topic instead.

“Were you angry at me?” he asked. “For not chasing you after you left that time?”

Struggling to collect the remains of your thoughts, you spoke very slowly, “I... I was angry that you didn’t put in any effort while we were still together. After that, I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

“I did,” he said. Then, realising, he corrected himself, “I do. And I didn’t want to make the same mistake again today.”

Hesitantly, you asked, “how do you mean? Because I left today?”

He nodded. “I'm not going to wait another four years before we talk about us.”

“Jungkook...” you said, but the sound of his name on your lips caused your thoughts to jumble once more. Your words stuck to your throat as your heart threw itself against the walls of your chest. You hoped to divert the topic, “y-you said there were two things. What—what’s the second thing?”

“The second thing is that I love you,” he said in one quick breath. “I took everything we had for granted, and I’m sorry. But the truth is that even then I was—I-I’d never stopped loving you.”

A sense of déjà vu clouded your mind, while the rest of your body reacted as if this was the first time you’d heard him say this. As if the four years you hadn’t been together were long enough to start a new lifetime, and now you’ve met again, reincarnated into different people – Jungkook, the vocalist of a rock band, and you, the manager.

But, buried deep in your subconscious, locked away in a box that your brain dared not touch even in a dreaming state, was the memory of the first time he’d said these words to you.

It was spring. You’d been together for about five or six months at that point, and you’d skipped class together to go to the same park where you’d had your first date. You’d spent the whole day walking around hand-in-hand, reminiscing about the past, dreaming of the future, taking pictures of the freshly bloomed cherry blossoms, and picking up the pale pink leaves from the grass to throw them at each other.

During the car ride back home, you were so exhausted that you could hardly keep your eyes open. The two of you had been running around so much—his energy was infectious, you’d both acted like Golden Retrievers set loose—that your legs felt wobbly and unsteady.

After a few more minutes, you had lost the battle against yourself and settled more comfortably into the passenger seat, closing your eyes. Your mind was already beginning to fill with the bliss of sleep when Jungkook stopped the car at a red light.

He glanced at you, seemingly asleep on the seat beside him, and leaned in to press his lips to your forehead. When he pulled back, he noticed a pale cherry blossom in your hair and a soft smile on your lips.

It was nothing more than a whisper—“I love you so much”—that slipped from his lips because he thought you were asleep. Nothing more than an overwhelmed confession as his heart drowned in his feelings.

But, to this day, nothing has ever come close to making your heart beat nearly as fast as it had in that car when the light turned green and he drove back to your dorm, still thinking you were asleep. That first confession of love remained a secret between you, him, and the stray cherry blossom nestled in your hair.

Slowly, you opened your eyes as the memory tugged at each and every cell of your skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface. You looked around the hotel room before you dared to look at him again.

Contrary to what Jungkook believed, you didn’t appear collected because you were done. Or because you didn’t want to fight with yourself about wanting him anymore.

It was because you were tired of still wanting him so much in spite of everything.

You were tired of forcing yourself to let go. To move on. To be rational and responsible.

Tired of feeling happy about things that were probably inappropriate.

Tired of finding those things inappropriate.

But rationally, you knew that you had to leave this behind and return to your normal lives after this, regardless of what you wanted.

It’d be much harder—to an infinite extent—because this wasn’t how you’d imagined this conversation going.

Quietly, you broke the silence, “I’m sorry, too.”

“Why?” he asked, sitting up on the bed.

“We can’t...” the words trailed off before you could catch up. You tried again, “I can’t—we can't do this.”

He observed the battle behind your eyes and then spoke, very softly, almost inaudibly, “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“We’re—"

“We’re the ones who put meaning to things,” he continued. Not to contradict you, but to reassure you. “If we say it doesn't mean anything, then it doesn't.”

You shook your head with a sad smile, the situation vaguely familiar.

“It’s never that simple,” you said. “There’s so much more than just you and me to consider.”

“It is simple,” he insisted. Then, just like back in your bunk on the tour bus, he asked, “do you want me to leave?”

Just like back then, you answered without hesitation, “no.”

“Then this can have as much or as little meaning as you want it to. I don’t give a fuck,” he said. “I’m yours. You are all I’m considering. And I’m staying.”

In less than a second, the determination in his voice made you realise that rational didn’t always mean reasonable.

Rationally, you knew you should have drawn the line. You should have left or told him to leave. Should have distanced yourself from him for the sake of your heart. Your job. For the sake of the atmosphere backstage.

You were aware of all the damage this could do. You were aware of the risk. Of the questions. Of the pain.

You were aware that you were having the very conversation that you’d stopped him from pursuing a few hours ago on the street. But your response to him was vastly different now.

Really, the situation felt different, too.

The second thing is that I love you.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—

You couldn’t imagine yourself leaving.

There was no place in the whole world that you would have rather been in right now. And no one else you would have wanted to share that place with.

It felt reasonable to stay. And wish for him to stay, too.

Jungkook had to scoot closer on the bed to reduce the distance between you two, and as soon as he did, he leaned in right away. He’d hesitated before, got scared, panicked and changed his mind. Tonight, he would do nothing of the sort.

His lips touched yours before you could formulate a single doubt and his kiss effectively silenced all the noises and echoes in your head.

Truthfully, he knew that there was a third thing he didn’t tell you, but when you kissed him back, less tentatively than the first time on the bus, he couldn’t imagine ever saying anything to you again. Speaking seemed like an immeasurable waste of time.

Instead, he pulled you closer, his lips locked on yours as one of his hands held the side of your face. His gentle fingertips contrasted with the coldness of his lip ring against your lips as he touched the skin of your cheek like he wasn’t sure, not even now, that it was really you he was holding. His other hand found its way around your waist and settled there—the gesture so intimate, so familiar.

He kissed you and it felt inevitable. Like everything you’d been doing up to this point was meant to lead you here – even the break-up four years ago.

As Jungkook felt your hands on his chest, careful and barely there, he mentally cursed himself for wearing this white shirt yet again—the fabric was too thick for him to properly feel you.

Still, he recognised the ghost of your touch as though he’d never been apart from you. As though you’d always stayed like this, locked in a desperate embrace in the tenth-floor room of a hotel in Amsterdam.

There were endless somethings bursting persistently in his chest as he tasted you, deepening the kiss by bringing his tongue over yours. Fireworks and flames and entire conflagrations all wreaked havoc on his heart.

This time, there were no promises of five minutes, and no curtains to separate you from everyone else. When you whimpered quietly, in response to him pulling you up until one of your legs was thrown over his and you were seated firmly on his thigh, he was the only one who heard it. The only one who felt your heavy breathing on his lips as he kissed you.

And if, by a lucky chance, there was any oxygen left in the room, neither of you needed it as your holds on each other grew tighter, hands grasping whatever materials they could reach and pulling—until he took your shirt off, until you took off his.

Every single one of your nerve endings was focused solely on him—his taste, his scent, his touch, his warmth, the roughness of his dark jeans underneath you, the softness of the skin on his chest. Your body instinctively drew closer, prompting him to clench his thigh as he wrapped his arms around you even more tightly.

His lips gently trailed kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, and it was as intoxicating as it was overwhelming. He remembered your body—how could he forget when it haunted his dreams almost every night?—but he yearned to create new memories, to trace the lines of your figure that he’d memorised and bring them to life in a new and different way.

You helped his eager hands find the edge of your sports bra and had to briefly pull away from him to slide it over your head. He pulled you back to him as soon as you did, needing to get lost in your touch, to feel your skin against his.

Your hotel room was filled with so much electricity, the two of you could have lit all of Amsterdam up.

“There’s so much I want to say to you. So much I have to say,” he breathed against your lips while his hands caressed your exposed sides, tracing the familiar maps on your skin.

You pulled him closer by gripping the back of his neck and exhaled, “show me instead.”

The meaningfulness, or rather, meaninglessness, of the moment seemed secondary. You wouldn’t analyse what this symbolised or where you stood.

Instead, you’d analyse how kissing him—touching him, feeling his skin, hearing his breathing—felt good. How it felt right. Like you’d been lying to yourself by doing everything else but this.

Sitting on his lap as he held you firmly in his arms—essentially trapping you in his grip, in his scent, in him—you could feel the rest of the world fade away into the recesses of your mind that you didn’t consider important at this given point.

Focusing on the feeling of his tongue against yours and the firmness underneath you, you allowed the scorching heat of the moment to take control of your movements as you instinctively moved your hips against his and forced him to suck in a shaky breath.

You undid the buckle of his belt and he had to pull back just a little, breaking the kiss. His head was spinning, overwhelmed by your closeness and the rapid beating of his heart. It wasn’t the first time you had been this close, but it had been so long, and he’d wanted this so much, that it felt like he’d never done this before.

Noticing your trembling hands, he helped you with his belt by loosening his grip on your waist. As soon as your fingers reached the zipper of his pants, he grabbed your forearms—successfully halting your progress in ridding him of his jeans—and swiftly flipped you over onto your back on the bed.

Your eyes met for a split second as he hovered over you, silently exchanging a conversation that neither of you dared to voice.

He leaned in to kiss you again and allowed you to get back to the previous task. Kissing him back, you finally managed to lower his jeans to his knees, and the simple feeling of your touch on the back of his thighs nearly made him see stars. Leaning his forehead against yours, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to regain his composure.

He briefly sat up to kick off his jeans—as quickly as he could, because the room temperature fell a hundred degrees when he wasn’t touching you—and you took a moment to trace the patterns of ink on his arm with your eyes.

You were with him when he got his first tattoo.

He acted tough in the tattoo parlour, but once the artist took you both down to the basement, all of his bravery faded. It was rather chilly down there—Jungkook was pouting when he took his jacket off, revealing his shivering skin—and he’d chosen his knuckles as a place for his first tattoo. It was going to hurt.

He knew that, in theory. But the way he squeezed your hand and bit his lip when the needle pierced his skin for the first time still surprised you both. You weren’t sure who was in more pain by the end of the session—him, from the fresh ink on his hand, or you, from how hard he’d been squeezing your hand.

Now, he had a full sleeve. And you felt a pang of pain in your chest, because there were so many tattoos that you hadn’t seen him get.

You hadn’t been there when the needle pierced his skin again and again. You hadn’t seen the way he closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and placed a hand on your knee—for support, for reassurance, for overwhelming love.

You hadn’t helped him apply lotion on the fresh ink, hadn’t teased him for being a baby, hadn’t been shut up with a kiss. You hadn’t traced the intricate lines on his skin with the tips of your fingers—careful, gentle, loving.

You hadn’t been there for four years.

But you were here now.

Just as your gaze reached his shoulder, your eyes locked on the patterns you’d never touched, Jungkook turned to you and caught you staring. The dazed look in your eyes before he had even done anything affected him in more ways than he could count.

With a wide, shameless grin and a raised eyebrow, he leaned into you again. You noticed right away that he was about to say something that would surely ruin the moment, but you pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before he could.

“Don’t,” you warned. There was humour and light and excitement in your eyes.

Chuckling as if you’d read his mind, he pressed a kiss to your lips and mumbled, “wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Liar,” you exhaled against his mouth as he quickly slid your biker shorts and panties down your hips, your back barely leaving the bed.

“Honest,” he countered in a soft whisper, his lips hovering over your neck as his hands returned to your waist and he aligned your hips with his. “I have better things on my mind.”

It was hard to determine which one of you was to blame for ending this unnecessary bickering by inhaling too sharply – you, who reached the edge of his boxers and pulled them down, removing the last layer of clothing between you; or him, who gently caressed your thighs, drawing deliberately slow, teasing circles that inched closer to your core.

He managed to kick off his boxers without letting go of you—which was a talent that was difficult to advertise, but a talent nonetheless—and kissed you deeply. One of his fingers slid over your thighs and traced over your folds, causing your body to twitch in anticipation as you gripped his forearms for support.

His touch felt foreign and familiar at the same time – he knew how to find every single one of your nerve endings, but your body seemed to have forgotten that he knew.

It was almost frightening how he sensed exactly how to touch you to elicit a response—the pillows of his fingers effortlessly reached the bundle of nerves on your clit at just the right time to make your back arch off the bed involuntarily, seeking more friction. Your breathing grew louder every time he applied more pressure to his touch.

It really didn’t feel fair at all—the way he appeared to know your body better than you did, even after all these years.

A frustrated whimper escaped your lips when he added another finger, picking up the pace. He alternated between gentle rubs and teasing caresses, and his touch made your head spin, but you wanted more of him. All of him.

He only inserted a finger for a fraction of a second before lightly brushing it over your folds—the motion so sweet and then suddenly not enough. Your nails were about to draw blood from how tight you were gripping his arms.

“Don’t tease,” you exhaled, more a plea than a command. “Not now.”

There was a hint of promise here, and Jungkook smiled before nodding. He kissed your lips, but instead of pulling away, he increased his pace—toying with your clit with just enough pressure and at just the right angle that you could have cried out if you hadn’t been biting your lip so hard.

“Fuck,” was all you could respond with as your eyes rolled back from the intense sensation. “Jungkook—”

This time his name was encouraging. It was begging. It made him groan as he leaned in, already almost painfully hard as he rubbed your clit, spreading your wetness with his fingers.

“Hmm.” He touched your neck with his lips in a sloppy, wet kiss that sent shivers down your spine. “You look so beautiful.”

“Fuck,” you repeated, the relentless ministrations of his fingers rendering you incapable of a more coherent sentence. “Fuck.”

And just when you felt the pressure in your stomach building, he pulled away abruptly.

The loss of contact made you exhale with enough agitation for it to resemble a whine. This earned you a smirk from him as he pulled back slightly, convinced he was just doing what you’d asked because he did indeed stop teasing.

To be fair, it was for his benefit, too. Your body, your warmth, your heavy breaths—he knew it all teased him more than he could ever tease you.

Struggling to maintain his composure, he bit his lip and reached for his length, giving it a few languid strokes.

The first glimpses of concern started to creep in when he realised he had no protection, but he saw you nod at the pile of suitcases by your bed. Confused initially, he rolled off of you and approached what appeared to be a welcome basket on top of the pile.

“Don’t tell me…” he mumbled in disbelief as he picked up the wicker basket—decorated with an appropriate white bow.

“Yeah,” you confirmed his thoughts and sure enough, among complimentary bottles of shampoo and tubes of toothpaste, he found a box of condoms.

Under different circumstances, he would have embraced his inner teenager and dropped everything to giggle at this, but he tried to stay composed. That is, until he looked at you and saw that you were biting your lip in an obvious attempt to hold back laughter.

“Well, this is quite convenient,” he remarked, encouraged by your amusement, as he climbed back on the bed. “Almost meant to be, no?”

“Don’t spoil the moment,” you warned, pressing your lips together to conceal your smile. “Just hurry.”

“Say that again for me?” he teased. “I love it when you beg.”

Undeterred by the punch on his shoulder that he received in response, Jungkook laughed and ripped the bag open. He unrolled the condom onto his length with relative ease despite the slight shake in his hands.

You reached out to help him, and he realised he might actually pass out when he felt you touch him. The tips of your fingers were on the tip of his length as he brought it closer to your entrance.

He shook his head and warned breathlessly, all of his previous confidence gone, “I’m not—not going to last long.”

He could tell as much even before he entered you, but after you nodded—giving him voiceless permission—and, slowly, almost agonisingly, he slid inside, he realised he may have miscalculated.

He might not last at all.

Lowering his head as he paused, not even halfway in, he bit his lip in concentration and closed his eyes. He couldn’t get himself together when you looked like that under him—almost too lost in the feeling of him, in the pleasant stretch, in the way you couldn’t help but clench around him as your walls anticipated fitting all of him in.

“Fuck,” he exhaled shakily as you tightened around him. He really needed to get a grip. More sternly, he repeated, “fuck,” and, with a more forceful thrust of his hips, he fully bottomed out.

You threw your head back at the sudden motion, needing a second to adjust to the stretch. This was helped greatly by one of his hands as he caressed your hips, your waist, your breasts while he gave you as much time as you needed. Hė toyed with your nipple between his fingers and the gentle touch and the utmost admiration in his dark eyes sent sparks straight to your core.

After you quietly urged him to move, it still took him a whole minute before he felt confident enough to pull almost all the way out and then push back in, testing both of your limits. He looked at you—because he couldn’t not look at you underneath him, not even if it meant he’d lose himself right away—and the expression on your face was so dreamy that he didn’t even realise he shuddered in exhilaration.

Your head was still thrown back as you held your lower lip in a tight grip between your teeth. When you slowly opened your eyes, your gaze met his right away. And there was barely anything—fuck it, there was nothing—that he could have done to prepare for it.

He thought he may as well have died then and there because nothing in his life would ever compare to the colour of your eyes when you looked at him.

Swallowing the groan in the back of his throat, he leaned in to press his lips to yours as he began to move. It was slow at first, then his hips gradually gained more speed as he felt your warm walls pulling him in. Your fingers found their way to his hair, getting tangled in the dark strands as his hips pressed into yours harder—not just faster, but with more force, too, each brush of his length igniting a new fire inside of you.

He made it impossible for you to catch your breath as he kissed you with as much fervour as before, not once slowing down the pace of his hips. Everything he did was in response to you—the way you arched your back, your whimpers in between the messy, open-mouthed kisses, the way you pulled his hair, the way you held onto his shoulders.

He knew that if he lost concentration, he’d unravel immediately. It’s been so long, too long. He’s wasted far too many nights in foreign beds, chasing highs that had always felt forced and artificial. He wasn’t prepared for the real thing. He wasn’t prepared for you.

“Fuck. I’d missed you, my love,” he whispered hazily between kisses, each word accompanied by a thrust of his hips, “so fucking much.”

You felt shivers run down your spine again. If you could have formed a sentence—let alone voiced it—you would have reciprocated.

You would have told him that you missed him too. And you would have told him how much it scared you, the way this feeling was so intense that you seemed to disregard everything else.

But you couldn’t focus.

His length stroked your walls with an exemplary balance of force and tenderness. His tongue was in your mouth, the kiss hot, heavy, messy. His hands were all over your skin, warm, eager, relentless.

He filled your head with stars.

You could not speak, you could not say anything that wasn’t a breathless whisper of his name every time he pulled away to give you both a chance to inhale.

He understood you without words, however. And the response you had to him was about to tip him over the edge. His movements became too fast to be precise, his thrusts grew sloppy, his breathing got heavier, his groans louder.

The knot in your stomach formed much faster than you would have liked. You wanted this to last longer, but all of it felt reckless—dangerous and outrageous—and so good—too­ good—that you broke the kiss, a strangled cry of his name passing your lips as a warning that you were close.

“Yeah?” he whispered, kissing your jaw as he pressed his thumb on your clit. The rubbing motion matched the speed of his hips and the intensified pleasure caught you so unexpectedly that you could no longer control how loud you were.

Your heavy breaths mixed with curses and broken fragments of his name—he knew these sounds would echo around his mind for every waking moment—as your back arched off the bed and into him.

And when he heard you cry out, when he felt your grip on his arms tighten as your body jerked forwards, your hips meeting his, then lowering again in uncontrollable muscle spasms, when he felt your walls clench around him so much that they nearly stopped his movements, he almost whined, sensing his own high, brought on by the feeling of yours.

There were curses spilling from your lips as you came and you held onto him so tightly that he knew he’d have bruises on his arms tomorrow morning. Already, he couldn’t wait to look at them. He couldn’t wait to do this again.

His hips drove into yours—sloppily, accompanied by loud sounds of skin slapping on skin—until he fell over the edge, groaning loudly as he spilled himself into the condom. His body twitched as he pushed into you—one final stroke of your soft, sensitive walls—then he stilled completely.

His face was inches from yours, and you were the one who reached out to connect your lips, turning his groan into a dangerous whimper. Your kiss burned through him like electricity and, impossibly, seemed to prolong his climax.

He kissed you back like it was the first time, still powerless from his high, still feeling like he was floating, unable to come down, to pull out, to stop kissing you.

Breathless, you whined against his mouth and felt him stir inside of you, sparking a sudden new fire in your stomach before the previous one could fully go out.

He wanted you, needed you still—maybe he’d never stop. But it was the way you responded to him, the way he felt you need him as much as he needed you, that made him growl into the kiss as his hands reached for the parts of you that he'd touched hundreds of times tonight already.

It was almost desperate, the way you were still clinging to one another—like you’d never touched each other before and never would again.

Finally, you pulled away to inhale. And to, hopefully, recover.

“Fuck,” Jungkook whispered, summarising all that you were about to say.

You both chuckled, giddy, excited, almost euphoric.

He rested his forehead against yours and pressed another soft kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out, and stepping back to discard the condom.

In no more than three seconds, he was back on the bed next to you, pulling you to his side and kissing you once more.

It was three seconds then, he decided, that he could survive away from you.

For a good minute after that, the two of you just watched each other, your chests rising and falling as your bodies tried to fathom something that your minds failed to grasp.

Suddenly, you shook your head.

“What?” he asked. His lips were stretched into what felt like a permanent smile.

“Nothing, I just… it would be very difficult to explain where we were if someone noticed us missing,” you said—your words humorous, but the meaning behind them serious.

Even though you smiled as you spoke, Jungkook swallowed and nodded, solemn all of a sudden.

“I know,” he said. “And I don’t care if anyone knows. I only care that we do.”

You ran your tongue over your swollen lips, preparing to say something that he knew he wouldn’t like. But he was paralysed as he watched you. He swore your lips were the colour of his dreams, and he had to clench his jaw so he wouldn’t lean over and kiss you again.

He forced himself to roll onto his back and spoke up before you could, making sure his voice was as nonchalant as possible, given the hurricane inside his chest, “can we—can we not talk about that right now? Can I just stay here instead?”

You looked at him—which was incredibly easy when he wasn’t looking back at you—and forgot, for a moment, that you had to reply.

He looked almost ethereal like this, with his head resting on the pillows next to you, his hair tousled, stray curls sticking to the droplets of sweat on his forehead, his lips pursed slightly as he stared ahead. A part of you wished to take a picture, to hold onto this moment forever. But a different part of you didn’t want anyone else to witness him like this, not even the lens of your phone camera.

He suddenly turned his head to look at you and you blinked, averting your eyes as you remembered that you hadn’t spoken.

“Hmm. Yes,” you said, the word scratchy as it caught in your dry throat. You cleared it and tried again, “okay.”

Jungkook hummed somehow ambiguously and looked away.

“What?” you asked, confused by the look on his face.

“I thought you’d still tell me to leave,” he admitted.

You sighed. “You should. But I want you to stay. I’m fine with doing what I want tonight, however stupid that might turn out to be.”

He ignored the doubt in your voice—he was getting good at that—and looked at you again. He knew you probably couldn’t even begin to imagine the sort of fire your words ignited inside of him, and just how far the sparks travelled on his skin.

“Then I hope you know,” he said, “that I’m fine with only getting ten minutes of sleep tonight.”

Quietly, you replied, “I think I’m fine, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, briskly turning to his side and propping himself up on his elbow with renewed excitement.

His abrupt jump made you chuckle despite your best attempts to remain serious, and his grin widened as he brought his hand to the side of your face and leaned in to kiss you once more. Then, twice more. Then three more times—in perpetuity, he hoped.

He knew that he was blessed to have experienced a lot of happiness in his life. But nothing came close to the feeling of your lips on his as the two of you played around in your hotel bed in Amsterdam, two nights before his band’s inaugural performance in The Netherlands during their first European tour.

This was a dream, it had to be.

And he was determined to do everything to make sure he never woke up from it.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “like that”

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[bittersnsweetz]

ohhh my god i just realised why i love narumitsu so much, despite the obvious (mutual pining, slow burn, one-sided enemies, to friends, to distant friends, to close friends, to lovers all that good stuff)

its BECAUSE they have a shared emotional journey that is so narratively satisfying to me that as im typing this im barely able to contain my stimming

phoenix defends miles, so convinced he can save him and is almost blinded by that fact because he knows edgeworth as so good and so pure and he totally definitely absolutely would never willingly hurt anybody and then he ghosts him for a year which phoenix obviously interprets as yet another person abandoning him, leaving phoenix to pick up the pieces, and that whole time phoenix is beating himself up because wow this is just like when he put all his love on the line for dahlia and it turns out she was just using him this whole time and the absolute mess of emotions that arises when edgeworth comes back, alive, with no apology whatsoever.

and then two years later phoenix loses his job and edegworth is trying so hard to help and be there for him while also juggling his prosecutor job and the challenges that arise from adjusting to a new justice-driven mindset, but phoenix is already closing himself off and refusing to talk about it because hes stingy and secretive and edgeworth has seen the stingy in passing but never to this extent, where he can tell that phoenix NEEDS someone but apparently that someone isnt going to be him. and he's on call with him one night and he hears trucy for the first time and hes mortified because so many complicated emotions and questions arise from that alone: "wright are you sane" "wright are you seeing someone" "wright why didnt you tell me about this so i could help you" and i do think edgeworth gets overwhelmed by all this at once, the secrecy, the daughter, the friend who visits phoenix every now and again, the lack of healthy communication. and suddenly everything that he thought theyve worked so hard to build together has come crashing down and theres nothing phoenix will let him do to help

and its the shared parallel of the initial proposal to help "let me defend you"/"let me be there for you" being completely rejected and the repeated efforts to do so being met with a sudden shift (prosecutor miles edgeworth chooses death/i have a daughter and a new friend who helps me now) and how its so difficult for the both of them to realise at the time that its for their sake that they're doing it, that neither of them are doing this to hurt the other intentionally (although for phoenix i definitely think theres spite involved, but not to the degree to which edgeworth ends up experiencing what he does emotionally), and the idealisation that gets completely shattered by reality

just. UGH. the full circle that is them, after everything is said and done, finding closure in each other again, however non-linear that journey is, and, this is important, CHOOSING to still stay with the other through anything and everything that comes to pass, and truly SEEING the other behind their professional masks. Seeing them entirely and not just the attractive parts. im rabid.

[punchitmrsulu]

Omg, man, Danai is an absolute, goddam FUCKING GENIUS!!! That was one of the best episodes I have ever seen on television! Just let her write everything there is!! All the movies, all the TV shows, all the books, just let her run EVERYTHING!! I don't even know where to begin!! I need to watch it like 74 more times!

God, that was perfect, that was so fucking perfect! Us Richonners have been fed so good! SO GOOD!!!! They gave us EVERYTHING!!!!

I have so many things I need to comment but my mind is going insane!!

The way he ran after her at top speed, completely desperate after she walked out the door!!

The parallel the did when he told her to leave without him on the boat and she was like "Fuck, no!" And then in this one she gets trapped under the chandelier with the walkers coming and she tells him he has to leave her and he's like "Fuck, no!"

The apartment being a smart apartment and as soon as that wide shot of the two of them looking at each other happens, it goes "Welcome home!" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT WAS FUCKING GENIUS!!!!!! DANAI IS A FUCKING GENIUS!!!!!!

The way he watched her get undressed, that's how you do the male gaze, guys. Take notes.

The love making...OMFG the love making. THE LOVE MAKING!!!! I can't even begin to explain it, guys. I have no words. It was just...beautiful. It was just absolutely beautiful. I don't even know how to talk about it because it was just perfection. PERFECTION!!!

I mean, he cried, you know?! He cried in the middle of it because of how much it overwhelmed him, he had given up on feeling that happy and complete and loved a long time ago. I can't I can't I can't I CANNOT!!! It was like he was finding the way back to himself and to her and to them through it and it was just too much. DANAI IS A FUCKING GENIUS!!! I just have to say it again!

And on that note, the way they handled his trauma. I mean, this is 8 years of conditioning this man has been through. EIGHT FUCKING YEARS. He is 100% TRAUMATIZED. He doesn't know who he is anymore. I mean "I found a way to survive even though I was dead" HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! I love how they didn't just brush past that, they showed the toll it took on him and how it's not that easy to get out of a prison even after the doors are open. OMG just, chef's kiss.

Back to the love making for a second, after he goes after her and they're able to get back to the apartment, bickering all the way through fighting the walkers (amazing), the way they did it, how slow it started. He wasn't sure he could approach her but he wanted to, needed to, so he does it carefully, he starts by gently pulling her by the waist and it's slow, almost unsure kisses and then it's full on UGH!!!! INJECT IT INTO MY VEINS!!!!

Just everything about this episode. Literally every single second. Give them all of the awards, ALL OF THEM!

[crackedhrglass]

i got this ask on my strawpage and was gonna type it up in my notes app and post it to twitter, but i really couldn't figure out a way to say it concisely, so i'm answering it here bc it's prob gonna be long lol.

do i think stancest is actually canon? simply put, no. despite how often i'm like "STANCEST IS CANON!!" i truly don't think that AH and the writers intended stan & ford's relationship to be seen through an incestuous lens.

their relationship is def the heart of the show, second only to dipper & mabel's own bond. they are the center of each other's worlds, their story & character arcs revolve almost entirely around each other, and their happy ending is literally the two of them sailing off into the sunset to spend "the rest of their days" together (ford says this almost word-for-word in journal 3).

but i still don't think all of that was meant to be taken romantically.

in my opinion, where things start to get a little weird is, surprisingly enough, ford's relationship with bill.

the rest is under a cut bc HOLY SHIT this got longer than i expected.

there's no denying that bill was written to deliberately parallel stan in a number of ways, from his mannerisms, to his conman status, to the fact that he calls ford the same name stan did when they were kids.

he's written in a very intentional way that makes him serve as both stan's parallel and his foil, especially in their respective relationships to ford (bill feeds into ford's ego and encourages him to aspire for greatness alone, stan has always been a direct obstacle & challenge to ford's ego, accidentally ruining his chances at WCT & encouraging him to live out their childhood dream together; bill valued infinite power over his own family and destroyed his dimension as a result, stan valued his family over everything, and saved ford and his dimension as a result).

normally, this wouldn't be that big of a deal to a stancest shipper like myself. but as the book of bill & the accompanying website all but confirmed in big, flashing neon lights, ford & bill have a romantic history and are exes.

having the two people closest to ford be compared to one another is one thing. having ford be drawn to bill because of how similar he is to the brother he secretly misses is one thing.

having ford be romantically involved with said character is what makes me raise an eyebrow lol.

again, do i think ford is literally a brocon who's got repressed sexual/romantic feelings for stan?

no.

i do, however, think he has unresolved Brother Issues that led him to subconsciously find comfort in a romantic partner that reminded him of stan (right down to bill calling him stan's nickname for him) in much the same way a person with "daddy issues" may seek out affection & intimacy from someone who reminds them of their father (or is just "fatherly" in general).

that much, i believe, was actually intentional. it's just too blatant to not be lol. it'd be a completely different story if either

bill & stan were nothing alike (untrue) or

ford & bill's relationship was strictly platonic and didn't have any romantic implications (also untrue)

i've said this before, but this isn't just a case of "oh, ford fell in love with someone who just coincidentally reminds him of his brother." bill's use of the nickname "sixer" during their first encounter was a deliberate attempt at appealing to a part of ford that was repressed, vulnerable, and aching, in order to get ford's guard down and make it easier for ford to trust him, and it worked.

billford is a ship that, to put it bluntly, would not exist without ford's buried feelings for stan, even disregarding shipping/incest/etc. ford's desire to be close to stan even platonically is what allowed bill to needle his way into ford's heart in the first place.

and all of this wouldn't be that weird if, again, bill hadn't continued to feed into ford's longing for stan even after they'd established a romantic relationship, by still calling him "sixer" and trying to permanently sever the relationship he had with stan specifically, once he and ford broke up (the phone call he tried to make while in ford's body that was described in tbob).

to put it another way, imagine if wendy was basically an older, taller mabel, or if any of mabel's crushes were eerily similar to dipper. people in the fandom would def take notice and view it as a little strange. so i don't get how people can look at ford dating someone so blatantly and intentionally similar to stan and think to themselves "ah yes, this is normal. ford is completely Normal and definitely doesn't have any underlying issues whatsoever" lmao

to conclude: no, i don't think ford & stan's relationship is actually canonically romantic, nor do i think ford falling in love with bill was incestuous, necessarily.

but i do think that he had a desperate longing to reconcile with stan buried DEEEEEEP down, and it manifested itself in the form of being attracted to bill, which is probably why he never bothered correcting bill's use of the nickname "sixer" since their very first meeting, or ever expressed that it made him uncomfortable.

[i-heart-hxh]

I just want to say I appreciate you for staying positive about killugon. Admittedly, I’ve given up on them. Maybe it’s too many angsty fanfics or metas I’ve seen that basically make it seem like they’ll never be close again but it’s nice to see some people still going strong with this ship! Hopefully one day I can enjoy this ship again the way I used to. Currently everything I read about them in fandom just depresses me.

Hi anon!

I'm sad to hear the negativity has gotten to you to this degree! It actually surprises me how much the fandom seems to think what happened between them can't be fixed. I've been into HxH for almost 8 years now and as time has gone on and I've revisited the series and analyzed it deeply and discussed it with others, I've only grown more certain that things between them will be okay--assuming Togashi can reach that point in the series. And right now is a great time to be hopeful about the future of HxH, with Togashi working so actively on the series the past few months.

Sooo many of the messages in my inbox amount to "Is there really hope? Are Gon and Killua really going to reunite and reconcile? Or is their relationship hopelessly broken?" so even though I feel like a bit of a broken record addressing this topic so much, it seems like it's a topic people really want addressed, so here's some more of my thoughts. (Trying to make my answers on this topic at least a little different each time even if some repetition is inevitable...!)

Here's this post I made of some of the reasons I anticipate a Gon and Killua reunion and fixing their relationship. And here's this eye-opening analysis post of the separation, yet again, which also offers hope.

So much of HxH is about second chances. It's about how love and human connections transform people and make life worth living, no matter how painful and difficult it may be. At the end of Chimera Ant Arc, Meruem and Komugi (who are, by the way, absolutely parallels for Gon and Killua) find their meaning for living in each other, and decide to stay together even knowing the only way they can be together is in the afterlife. If you trace back this scene to all the factors and character moments that made it possible, it goes all the way back to Gon extending kindness to Killua and changing his life. I believe Gon and Killua are on a path wherein they will ultimately find their meaning in each other and vow to stay together again (albeit without the dying part).

Gon and Killua are the protagonists of the series, and they are emblematic of the themes of HxH. Looking at the themes of HxH and the worldview it presents, it doesn't make sense for Gon and Killua to experience this horrible traumatic incident as the young teens they are, then never ever get to fix and resolve it even though they're both clearly upset to have to leave each other and they definitely have more to say to each other. Why show them feeling dissatisfied and unhappy to separate if they'll never get a chance to fix things and be happy together again? Do you really think that's the direction Togashi wants to go in, with the focus of the series and the repeated emphasis on how the hope we can find in a cruel, painful world rests in the connections we have with the people around us?

It's meaningful that they make each other so happy and transformed each others' lives. It's meaningful that even now in merch and artwork and such, they're portrayed as a pair. It's meaningful that a huge chunk of the audience so desperately wants to see them together again, and I'm certain Togashi is well aware of that. These two are at the heart of what makes HxH so wonderful and moving.

It's okay to take a break from the ship if it's not bringing you joy. Sometimes I get frustrated by takes and interpretations I see about it, too, trust me. Ultimately, it's here for you whenever you want to revisit it, and there are plenty of fanworks with happy endings and reconciliation between them if you need something to tide you over until canon hopefully resolves things between them. But do what feels right for yourself--it's okay to focus on something fluffier and less complex if that's what you need for now. I hope eventually you can come to see it with more hope, as I have lots of hope for their future--and I don't think it's unwarranted at all. 💖

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#3: The Getting Back To You (1.01)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Let me just start this one by saying - we been knew. 👌🏽 We knew Rick’s sole focus would be getting back to his wife and daughter, even when some incessantly begged to differ. But in case anyone didn’t believe it back then - something I’ve always applauded and will always appreciate about the character of Rick Grimes is that he too is gonna let everyone know that Michonne is his everything and the one who's been fueling him to get home. She is home, so it makes sense. And in these next few scenes, Rick’s letter voice-over makes that sentiment loud and clear...

So Rick wakes up from his dream and just has a quiet lonely moment to himself in his room. And then we hear him speak and I love that he’s speaking to Michonne. As he’ll say later, this is the only way he’s able to feel something in the CRM, by reaching out and speaking to his wife. 🥺

And as he’s forced to endure another day in the CRM, he lays in bed and even sorta holds himself in a way that reminds me of when Michonne held herself on their bed after putting on his shirt.

These soulmates and even their subtlest parallels move me. We know from the main show Rick and Michonne are so used to waking up in each other's arms and it’s almost like now they both hold themselves in the way the other would have had they not been separated. 🥲

It’s also sweet and heartbreaking that both Michonne and Rick still talked to each other like they were still in every way partners while they were apart. Michonne did so by talking aloud to him in their bedroom and Rick did so in the abundance of letters he’d write to her. 

Episode 1 really showed that Rick has stayed as deeply and loyally in love with Michonne as she was in love with him while apart. Like they both acted as though they were taken and fully married to each other still.

So with helicopters in the background, the voiceover starts with Rick saying, “I always thought I would wait to tell you everything when we were finally back together.” 

This is definitely the saddest of the TOWL episodes and hearing Rick say he thought he’d be able to tell Michonne all these things in person when they were back together but now he’s realized he just has to tell her now in a letter he knows she likely won’t receive. 😢

One; I just know Rick is so aware of how much he and Michonne both long to be together. Like during season 9, their union was the most solid and flourishing thing in their life and then it was abruptly taken away and all they want is to get back to that.

Two; I also love how in these letters Rick was basically like 'I don’t care how much the CRM loves their secrets, I’m spilling all their tea to my wife. She gets to know everything y’all got going on because...

#DirectQuoteFromRicksMind 😋 (and that’s how we know it’s always an unhealthy Rick whenever he’s keeping things from her.)

And then he says, “That it’d just be a story on the porch after the sun went down when we could barely see each other.” So sweet and sad. 🥲 He was so convinced that this wild experience would be swiftly handled and he’d be home to her, likely never expecting it would take years and years.

I also love what he says here because I had hoped that TOWL would give us some little insights into aspects and memories of Richonne’s relationship we didn’t get to see on screen and I love learning one of their things was sitting on the porch just talking with each other into the late hours of the night. It reminds me of their canon ep and how they clearly always enjoy ending their day talking and decompressing together. 

Rick says, “But I have to tell you now. Not everything. I can’t face everything.” as he takes out several letters and phones of Michonne and a younger and older Judith from the couch cushion. My heart. ❤️‍🩹 I love that he has so many phone drawings of his wife and daughter and their images are so accurate. Rick remembers his girls so vividly and clearly describes them well considering the artist even got the details right of how Michonne would wear her hair in different styles. 😊

gif cred: @kris-lulu

After being plucked from his home, these phone images are the only things really tethering Rick to who he is. 😢 He never made himself at home with the Civic Republic all these years and you see it through his barren apartment.

It’s not until he opens the couch cushion, where he essentially hides himself, that we see there is any true traces of Rick Grimes in this place, and of course, those traces are through illustrations of his wife and daughter and the letters he writes to Michonne.

It’s sad that he’s had to hide that part of himself to protect them. The hidden phones and letters feel symbolic of all the other ways Rick has had to hide himself in this place. And his wife and daughter are the most treasured parts of himself alive. They’re his heart. 

The phone illustrations include the one of Michonne that Rick looked at in the teaser. One of older Judith in front of a home. (Idk how the older Judith image was so spot on but Benjiro did a good job 👌🏽) One of Michonne with her hair pulled back like she wore in s9. And my favorite - one of Michonne and younger Judith together. Just precious. 🥹 This family man Rick forever has my heart and his girls' forever have his.

gif cred: @kris-lulu

Rick makes the mindset he's held while he’s been away crystal clear when he says “This is most of it. But all of it, it was always about getting back to you.” It doesn’t get any clearer than that where his priorities lie.

It’s like I’ve said before - Michonne and Judith (and RJ he just doesn’t know it yet) aren’t just on top of a list of Rick’s desired reunions, they are the list. And I love how Rick wants Michonne to know that every single thing he’s done in the last few years was motivated by his desire and his fervent need to be with her again.

Even before the announcement of TOWL and before the trailers we knew Michonne would be a priority to Rick while he was away. Rick loved team family of course, but of all the adults in his life, Michonne is far and away the most important to him. Like completely in a league of her own. And just like how Glenn and Maggie were solely focused on getting back to each other after the prison fell (and Maggie had a blood sister missing and still was focused heavily on reuniting with her husband) of course Rick feels the same about getting back to his wife. The man is a family man to the core and that means his immediate family - his wife and kids - will always come first.  

Rick goes on to say, “What happened on the bridge, I didn’t think I’d survive.” He then explains how he woke up in a military hospital to learn that an army with a force of thousands had found him.

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick let’s Michonne know about the military and the huge hidden city it protects. He tells her the army’s code is “security and secrecy above all...” And in some ways, Rick adopts that same line of thinking even when he reunites with Michonne. He becomes hyper-focused on securing her safety to the point that it makes him act out and keep secrets from her, thinking it’s the only way.

The letter continues with Rick saying “...so no one can leave ever." He further gives the rundown on the place and how the people they rescue have to work killing walkers for energy or growing food. And then we see Rick on his walker-killing shift as Okafor observes him.

gif cred: @arabellas

Rick explains it takes six years before people are accepted into the Civic Republic and during that time they’re called consignees. But he assures Michonne, saying, “And I was one of them but I was never gonna go in. I was gonna get away. I was gonna get back to you,” and then he passionately emphasizes that getting back to her is what he was determined to do.

This scene was giving love story and Rick is the greatest yearner to walk the earth. I love how adamant he is in saying that he was never going to lose sight of his ultimate goal and that’s getting to her.  Again, not just home, but her. 

Like had Rick escaped the CRM and made it to ASZ and team family told him 'oh yeah, Michonne and Judith live in Oceanside now,' Rick would be knocking on Oceanside's door before they could even finish the sentence like...

You know he'd be letting the ladies of the community know a man is now moving in lol. Because wherever his wife and daughter are is where home is. 👌🏽

Rick starts killing walkers with one hand and then he falls and Okafor approaches saying “Could have used the other hand, huh?” Okafor proceeds to say he came down here because he spoke with Major General Beale. Rick asks “About me?” And Okafor says “Yeah. You are lucky you have a friend in high places.” Rick casts some doubt saying “You’re my friend, huh?” as he continues working.

Okafor suggests he’s possibly the best friend Rick ever had for the way he’s lobbying the head of the most powerful military on Rick’s behalf. Rick isn't exactly moved by that and instead inquires about what caused the scar on Okafor’s forehead. Okafor says “Someone like you happened” as he segways to suggest Rick will be good for his program. From Rick's response, you can tell Rick doesn’t want to sign any papers in this place.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Okafor tells Rick “You think that staying out here gives you a better chance to get away. It doesn’t. It just gives you another chance to die. You may have noticed I don’t want to see that happen.” Rick listens but he’s really not trying to hear all that so he says he’s going back to work.

Okafor asks if he heard what he said but Rick cuts him off frustrated and says “You don’t have to do this anymore,” indicating this recruitment has been unwantedly recurring. Okafor walks away and there's a shot where you can see that a different person holds the kill record on that brick wall...but Grimes is about to change that. 👌🏽

As Rick’s letter to Michonne continues he says, “First time I tried, the army didn’t know what to do with me. Because no one tries to escape. No one wants to.” That’s because no one has a whole goddess to try to get home to like Rick. Just saying. 🤗

Rick expresses that he wasn’t sure if they’d put him in jail or kill him for escaping. And even that shows his immense determination to get home to her because, without even knowing what the consequences would be, he still had to take the risk and try to escape. He shares that Okafor convinced the CRM to make him a consignee and how even then he kept trying to escape. A determined king. 😌

Rick says, “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t get back to you. I kept trying to get away. So they put me on a leash when we went out into the world. I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t get back to you.” I love how often he says “get back to you” in this. That��s been the theme of his life these last few years. And as he says this he grows more frustrated killing walker after walker and declares “I was trapped.”

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick ‘Built Different’ Grimes then takes out a ton of walkers one-handed before letting out a yell. (Also, I just noticed while Rick is killing all those walkers, the other consignees are in the back watching and cheering him on cuz he’s breaking the kill record lol. 😂 And Rick and Michonne really are cut from the same cloth cuz they both had consignees watching them in awe while they worked. The famous Mr and Mrs. Grimes. 😌)

Rick leans against the brick wall exhausted as his voiceover says Okafor protected him because he saw something in him and wanted him to join the army and his program “to use my life for them.”

Okafor walks up to Rick again and stoops down to say the line heard in the TWD series finale “There’s no escape for the living.” And Rick looks up at him like he wants to rip out his jugular.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Okafor says he left a uniform in Rick's apartment and adds “It’s time to accept things for what they are. It cost your hand last time. Next time it’s your life. Do something with it.” And as Rick sits against the wall breathing and upset he just looks so empty and exasperated by this existence. 😔

gif cred: @rcsitastark

Then he walks back to his apartment, scowling and covered in blood. Seeing Rick walk around like this, you can see how consignees and CRM folk might view him solely as a crazy gruff intimidating guy even tho we know him as having the biggest heart.

Rick takes note of a helicopter flying off with chlorine bombs and then Pearl Thorne makes her more official introduction to TOWL when she tosses a glass at Rick's feet, to which I was like, Thorne...

Pearl basically thanks Rick for showing her she can’t get away from this place and Rick just stays quiet as he walks back to his apartment as it's clear these two don't yet have a bond.

gif cred: @rcsitastark

Then in a moment of some excellent silent acting, Rick returns to the apartment and sees the CRM uniform on the table. He looks back out at the cold view from his window and I definitely get the sense that he loathes seeing that view every day. It's a reminder that he’s so far from home.

Rick proceeds to lean against the wall and then sits against it going through a gamut of emotions and walking the thin tightrope of sanity.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

He first closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and then he starts to laugh to himself before putting his hand to his head like he’s nursing a headache of conflicting thoughts and frustrations.

gif cred: @clonecaptains

He stands up and looks at the CRM gear and then angrily tosses the whole table and uniform showing he still wants to refuse to accept this fate. The poor man is going through it, and all alone. 🥺

gif cred: @nat111love

It's clear Rick hates so much about this place and the way it's kept him from the family that he needs to live. At this rate, I was like my gosh for Rick’s sake I hope there’s been at least one thing lighthearted in his life here because so much of his situation is depressing and heavy. And sure enough, there is at least one lighthearted aspect to Rick's time here and he goes by the name of Esteban Garcia. 👌🏽😌