#I feel... emotions about the 33 questions thing...

[purplecatghostposts]

For the ask game... Felix and Ivan 💚? Hands you these 🌹🌹🌹🌹

(Thank you for the flowers and the prompt <33 Ivan’s Season 6 Episode actually had me thinking about him and Félix interacting so this is the PERFECT time to think/talk about them more! Félix and Ivan both having terrible, controlling fathers gives me… Thoughts.)

—

Ivan doesn’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, he really is glad to have Félix’s help. He’s been more help than anyone else actually, tracking down potential clues and witnesses and crafting theories that Ivan struggles to keep up with. Sometimes he pesters Ivan with questions, which is kinda overwhelming, but they seem to be helping Félix figure it out. Adrien says his cousin is a genius and it really shows.

He’s not ungrateful. He’s glad Félix is here. He just… Doesn’t know why he’s here.

He thought it was Adrien’s doing at first but when he tried to thank him, Adrien said, “Oh, no, I didn’t say anything! Félix is doing this all on his own.”

Ivan furrowed his eyebrows then. “Why? I didn’t think he even knew who I was…”

Adrien shrugged back. “Why don’t you ask him? Sometime he’s weird about answering certain questions but sometimes he’ll just tell you.”

His words stick with Ivan for a while. He has to work up the courage to actually ask— Félix kinda intimidates him, both in civilian form and as Argos. Eventually though, Félix sees him hesitating and tells him, “Whatever you want to say, say it.”

“Why are you helping me?” Ivan blurts out. His heart skips a beat, realizing how it could be interpreted. He all too used to people thinking the worst of him. “Not that I don’t want you to but—!”

“It’s pretty simple.” Félix cuts him off. Usually getting interrupted might irritate him but Ivan is half grateful he doesn’t need to keep twisting his words so they land right. “Adrien mentioned what your father is like and how he escaped from prison, and I wouldn’t mind putting a shitty father behind bars.”

Ivan almost wants to defend his father on pure instinct but he doesn’t. He swallows it down because he’s angry and scared and tired of being both. “You think you can find him?”

“I’ve made it my mission so there’s no point in stopping now. But I’ll need your help.” Félix crosses his arms.

“My help?” Ivan echoes, frowning. “I’m only slowing you down.”

“On the contrary, your connection to the case gives me something to go off of.” At Ivan’s continued hesitance, he says, “Look, I know a thing or two about shitty fathers. I won’t make you come with; I can ask you my questions and track him down on my own. But if you want to try and get some catharsis by tracking down and throwing your dad in jail,” his lip turns upwards, “I can help with that. I can put just a little bit more control in your corner. So, what do you say?”

Ivan thinks about all the times his dad made him feel small. He thinks about all his fears of being like him, all the times he thought he could never escape him, and how tired he is of feeling this way. Some part of him wants his dad to be a dad for once, but another part of him is angry and has always been angry.

Mylène always says he shouldn’t bottle up his emotions so much. He thinks this might help vent some of that anger out.

“…What do you need me to do?” Ivan asks slowly. Félix grins brightly.

They catch him in the end. It’s not as satisfying as Ivan would like but it’s not bad either. He feels accomplished if nothing else. Like his input might’ve actually mattered. He expresses as much and Félix shrugs and says that it did.

“I don’t know how to repay you.” Ivan confesses. Félix’s eyes spark like he’s seen them do several times over the course of their investigation when he has an idea. He leans forward, eyes locked on.

“Just answer one question. A yes or no.”

It seems innocent enough but Ivan knows Félix is dangerously clever. He nods anyways.

“Are you Minotaurox?” Félix asks. Ivan’s breath catches— it’s as good as an admission on its own.

He knows Ladybug has rules but… He has a feeling Félix already knows the answer. If he’s asking then he just wants to know for sure that he’s right. Ivan nods slightly, watching his smile grow.

“Thought so. That’s good to know. I’ll see you around then.” He taps the gold and orange brooch on his chest with a wink. Ivan waves him off as he leaves, finding his chest feels a little lighter without as many things to worry about.

Ivan’s not really sure if this makes them friends but… The next time he sees Argos, he waves, even if he gets a few weird looks for it.

(Send me two ML characters and a symbol from the list and I’ll talk/write about their potential dynamic!)

[nyan-bynary]

I think it says a lot about how every man that's the best at what they do in jjk (toji, gojo,sukuna to some extent) seem to be genuinely uninterested and unenthusiastic about life outside of jujutsu to the point of not even bothering to try to have a life even remotely separate from it (gojo's "good at everything" but he doesn't have hobbies and the author themselves can't even imagine him happy. said he'd rather be a freeloader if he lived in a world without CE, toji started freeloading off women and gambling his life away the moment things got hard after leaving the zenin clan, sukuna's... whole entire everything... especially in the last chapter) these men are overworked, dehumanized AND REALLY FUCKING DEPRESSED to the point where the thrill of almost dying everyday fighting curses and sorcerers is the only thing keeping them going...

[anonymous-existences]

DCXDP Prompt 13 :

@demonic0angel I'm gonna borrow a bit of your 'First Burn' Prompt If ya don't mind <33 just a teeny bit(cuz song hehe) and make it more ANGSTY!!

Danny and Bruce are divorced, Only Dick knew they were together, Danny and Bruce's love started in college, oh how their love and passion were true and gentle, everyone around them wished them happy memories.

But as Bruce took the Mantle of Batman, He never told Danny, neither did Alfred have the heart to tell Danny that he was always getting into dangerous situations as he roamed around Gotham as a Vigilante, Sneaking out at night from their bed.

Bruce and Danny both adopted Dick, Little Richard 'Dick' Grayson, Danny's little boy, his precious little star. Bruce saw how much Danny cared for Dick, Bruce thought Dick could be a distraction for Danny so Danny doesn't notice his secret Vigilante nightlife.

....

Danny knew. He knew everything alright. Danny tries to not cry every night as he feels Bruce sneak away in the middle of the night, every whispers of love that Bruce utters to Danny felt like lies, Danny knew he had secrets too, His Past Vigilante life as a teenager is something he never told Bruce.

But this is something Danny is slowly breaking himself into denial, His husband is a vigilante, that's fine, he was fine with that, but the way he interacted with other women made Danny's heart break, even other heroes... Too close, Too Intimate, Too Comfortable.

Danny stopped following Bruce everytime he left by that time, he felt so hurt and so insecure of himself everytime he saw 'Batman' Interact with those others so.. closely.

It made Danny's core scream in doubt and his emotions derailing into confronting Bruce.

He thought Confronting Bruce about his nightly sneaking would get Bruce to finally trust Danny with the information about Him being Batman but no, it made Danny doubt so much more, Days of constant fight and reuniting, His Little Boy, Dick , and Alfred was the last thing keeping Danny in mental order, Organized and Composed as he always should be. Even if Bruce is Acting like a Playboy Brucie Wayne.

He tried to do what Jazz would have done but nothing FUCKING worked and Danny was always on edge, he felt that everything his husband said was a lie, he loved Bruce but why won't Bruce trust him? Please... please, just tell him the truth, I won't be mad. Please. Just tell me. Tell me everything. TELL ME! PLEASE! IM BEGGING YOU! JUST TELL M—

Danny loves Bruce, But as day passes, that love slowly felt one sided.

....

Dick didn't mean it, it was supposed to be a harmless little prank, he didn't know how rocky Bruce and Danny's Marriage was, he didn't know. He really didn't.

He didn't know a picture of Batman with Selina would seal it off. He didn't know a single lipstick would finish it all. He was only a child. It was his fault. He felt that it was his fault— why wouldn't he? He didn't know.. he really didn't.

Danny and Bruce screamed, it was nothing that Dick could have ever heard before, he didn't know at all. He really didn't.... It was only supposed to be a prank.. He didn't mean it...

...

Bruce soon took in Jason, Dick noticed how much Jason looked like Danny, Dick wanted to yell, he wanted to scream at Bruce, He wanted to confront him about passing the mantle to Jason— but... It's no use fighting against someone that's like Bruce. Not like Batman.

Dick secretly kept contact with Danny and his Family, Dani And Jazz was still his aunt as they lived in Bludhaven, he could always go to them as Nightwing and they'd know to help him without questioning. Dick felt bad everytime he did. He felt as though he was burdening the family of the person who's marriage he ruined, his own Father.

The only Father who could actually handle and was a real father.

Everything passed by so quickly.

Jason Died.

Tim Was adopted and he became Robin.

Jason came back to life.

Dick immediately took Jason to Danny.

Damian Came into their lives. Dick felt his blood Boil when Damian did but he couldn't blame Damian, Dick accepted Damian with a whole heart, acting like the Danny which the Manor Lost because of Bruce.

He will be the person who loved everyone, just like Danny, even if sometimes it's tiring— he just needs to keep being the Father of these children that Bruce struggles to be, It's the only Way Dick could honor Danny.

...

Bruce misses Danny Dearly, he regrets many things.

But the one he regrets the most is...

Losing Danny.

Danny and Bruce are Divorced Because Bruce Fucked up with being Batman and didn't tell the truth, Dick wanted to do a little prank cuz a kid will do pranks and snuck a lipstick on Bruce's coat and a picture of Selina with a kiss mark on it. Danny and Bruce's marriage are rocky as fuck, Dick secretly takes the other Wayne kids to Danny and they come to love Danny as their father much like Dick is attached to Danny, Jazz and Dani are the Wayne's Therapists. Specifically Jazz, she's the Best, Uncle Dan is Jason's Favorite mechanic.

Bruce Misses Danny dearly and wants him back and will try and probably try to court Danny again, nonstop as Batman, Danny still loves Bruce and hadn't moved on, His core is very much attached and embedded in the memory and love of Bruce Wayne, thus he is just waiting for Bruce to finally step up.

Yes this was Angsty, I apologize <33 but yes.

[harrysfolklore]

BLURB ABOUT MAX BECOMING WORLD CHAMPION 😩

i wrote this in like 20 minutes it probably sucks but MAX IS THE WORLD CHAMPION AGAIN AND I LOVE HIM SM

Your hands are shaking as you watch the final laps unfold on the screens. Your fingers find the small "33" necklace he gave you years ago – before the switch to number 1, before the championships. Some habits die hard.

When Max finally crosses the line, the explosion of noise is deafening. GP's voice breaks with emotion: "MAX VERSTAPPEN, YOU ARE THE 2024 FORMULA ONE WORLD CHAMPION!"

"Fucking yes!" Max shouts over the radio. "Thank you so much, guys. This one… this one was the hardest yet. I love you all!"

You're crying and laughing simultaneously as his car approaches.Max practically vaults over the barrier, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement. "We fucking did it!" he yells, lifting you up and spinning you around. His race suit is soaked with sweat, but you couldn't care less.

"I never doubted you for a second," you say against his neck.

He pulls back, grinning. "Liar. You were freaking out after Singapore."

"Shut up and kiss me, World Champion."

He does, and you can feel him smiling against your lips. The photographers are having a field day, but this moment is yours.

After the media obligations, you find yourself in the back of a car with Max heading to the team party. The Vegas lights streak past the windows as he holds your hand, thumb absently tracing circles on your skin.

"You know what's funny?" he says quietly, the adrenaline from earlier settling into a softer contentment. "After Abu Dhabi 2021, I thought nothing could top that feeling. But this…" he brings your hand to his lips, "this one feels different."

"Because you had to fight harder for it?"

"Maybe. Or maybe because I know exactly what I want to do next." There's something in his voice you can't quite read, but before you can ask, the car pulls up to the Bellagio.

The party is in full swing when you arrive. The entire Red Bull garage has taken over one of the hotel's exclusive clubs, and someone (probably Daniel) has convinced the DJ to play "Super Max" for the third time. Max is immediately swept into the celebration, accepting drinks from every direction.

"To the four-time world champion!" someone raises a toast, and the room erupts in cheers.

You watch from nearby as Max does shots with his mechanics, his face flushed with happiness and alcohol. He keeps looking over at you every few minutes, that soft smile you love so much playing on his lips.

"He's been fidgety all day," Lando mentions, appearing beside you with two glasses of champagne. "More than usual race nerves."

Before you can respond, Max is pulling you onto the makeshift dance floor, attempting to spin you around despite his questionable coordination at this point.

"You're drunk," you laugh as he nearly trips over his own feet.

"I'm happy," he corrects, pressing his forehead against yours. "Dance with me?"

"Since when do you dance?"

"Since I'm four-time world champion and I can do whatever I want."

You're both laughing when he suddenly becomes serious, glancing around the room before taking your hand. "Come with me for a minute?"

He leads you away from the noise, out onto the terrace where the famous Bellagio fountains are creating their water symphony against the night sky. The air is cool for Vegas, and Max shrugs off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders.

"Max?"

He takes a deep breath, and you notice his hands are shaking slightly. Max Verstappen, who can handle a Formula 1 car at 320mph, is trembling.

"I had this whole thing planned," he starts, running a hand through his hair. "Was going to wait until we were back home, do it properly. But standing here now…" He reaches into his pocket, and your heart stops. "I've been carrying this around since Monaco. GP's been calling me an idiot for waiting so long, and he's probably right."

"Max…" your voice catches as he drops to one knee.

"You've been there through everything – the good races, the bad ones, all the championships. You understand this crazy life, and you make it better just by being in it. I love you more than racing, which if you know me, is saying something."

You're both laughing through tears now as he opens the small blue box, revealing a stunning ring that catches the light from the fountains.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes," you manage to say through your tears. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!"

His hands are shaking as he slides the ring onto your finger, and when he stands, you throw your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. Behind you, you hear the terrace doors burst open and cheering erupts – the entire team had apparently been watching through the glass.

"Finally!" Daniel shouts, leading the charge with champagne bottles. "I've been guarding that ring since Monaco!"

Max keeps you close as everyone surrounds you with congratulations, his arm firmly around your waist.

"I love you," Max whispers in your ear as the celebration continues around you. "Even if I needed four world championships to get the courage to ask."

You look up at him, at this man who can be so fierce on track but so gentle with you, and smile. "I love you too, World Champion. Always have, always will."

The party continues well into the night, but now it's a double celebration. You keep catching glimpses of your ring under the lights, still hardly believing this is real. Max hasn't let go of your hand, and every time someone offers congratulations, his proud smile grows bigger.

"You know what this means?" Charles says with a smirk, raising his glass. "We might actually have a chance next season while he's distracted with wedding planning."

"Keep dreaming, Leclerc," Max laughs, pulling you closer. "I'm just getting started."

[softsunnyy]

hi!!! i just saw your luke hughes thing and I LOVE IT 🥰 but I’m more of a jack girlie so could you write about jack being protective to you after some crazy devils fan is rude to you?

hi sweetie!! sorry it took me a couple days, hope u like it <33

here's some angsty and fluffy Jack just for u

the place was electric, full with fans wearing your boyfriend's team jerseys, and many wearing his last name on the back. Lights illuminating the ice, music filling your ears. People drinking, smiling children, couples in love, and friends betting. 

today would be different tho, because you'll sit close to the ice, away from your friends who usually sat higher up. Jack asked you, convincing you with a couple of kisses and sweet words that made you giggle with love. 

the Devils are facing the Flyers, and you hope it´ll be one of those games that has you on the edge of your seat, screaming and cheering. 

your boyfriend's team has been going through a rough patch, with some heartbreaking losses and others really frustrating.

you had seen Jack in a bad mood, frustrated with himself, and receiving constant talks from different people telling him to just shoot the puck.

you´re his support, even before you were a couple. You keep him grateful, reminding him why he loves what he does so much every day. You help him enjoy, but also process his emotions, giving him a safe space to be himself; away from the cameras, the press, the judging eyes and the cruel questions. 

your relationship is not that new, but for months no one outside your private circle knew about it. You both preferred it that way; private. Unfortunately, one night a video was leaked of the two of you in your car, arriving at a game when some fans stopped you. Since then you´ve also been part of his public life, where some of his fans love you, talking about how happy you make him; and others hate you, saying that the Devils' recent results are due to you and your relationship with their star. 

you usually try to avoid these comments, knowing full well that most of them come from people who are frustrated, and who are trying to find a reason, someone to blame, so they don't get angry with their team anymore. You understand it, you don't share it, but you can understand where they´re coming from, and you try your best not to take it too personally.

when the game started, the speed was incredible, mesmerizing. Your eyes move, following the players. You cheer, you get angry, you get happy. You're caught up in the game, becoming one with the people in the crowd, hoping that luck will be in your favor that night. 

the first two periods were tense. Some stupid penalties, many shots on goal, but no goals. The crowd is hungry. The chants from the fans are incredibly loud, stunning you. 

anxiety consumes you, you want the game to move forward, for the boys to win. Besides being Jack's girlfriend, you're a fan of the sport, you understand what you're watching and you get to a point where your emotions depend a little on how that game went. 

you get frustrated, you get happy, you live it as if you were playing. You even try to learn from the players, giving your boyfriend some advice when you sit on the couch to watch the replay, making him notice certain details that can help him.

that's why you feel devastated. With only 20 seconds left, in a 0-0 game, one of them steals the puck from Jack and scores the winning goal, in front of a stunned, hopeless arena, that went completely silent for a few seconds. 

you see the faces of the team as they begin to surrender, sighing, convincing themselves that in the remaining seconds they´re not gonna be able to do anything. 

but what hurts you the most is seeing Jack's face, and the way it fills with frustration. His stick crashed on the ice when he returned to the bench 

it's a depressing end to a game that everyone thought would end differently. You could already see the articles for the next few hours, or the cruel comments from the reporters. Everyone questioning Jack, like in his first season. 

with a sigh you get up, ready to buy something to drink before approaching the locker room, knowing that the boys would take a while before coming out. 

as you went to buy a coffee, you tried to be quick, trying not to be seen. You thought you won, but as you were on your way to the locker room, with your coffee in hand, someone called your name, making you turn around, with tense shoulders and somewhat confused. 

“yes?” you asked, seeing a man, somewhat drunk, approach you.

“you should tell your boyfriend to learn how to play, y´know?” he said, slurring his words and standing a little too close for your liking. You frowned, moving away slightly as you tried not to grimace at the smell of alcohol reaching your face. 

“sure... have a good night,” you said quietly, trying to avoid the situation, feeling nervous with the interaction. 

“i always said that bitches make these players play like shit,” he said, ignoring the way you wanted to leave. “Jackie’s been playing like a pussy since he started dating you.” You tried to keep walking, but he was coming up behind you, his voice rising with every word. A few people turned to look, but kept walking, clearing that area in a matter of seconds as everyone left frustrated after that game. 

“excuse me, sir, i understand your frustration but…” you started to say, turning to look at him, your senses on alert and anxiety seeping into every part of your body. He interrupted you before you could finish. 

“no, you clearly don’t understand, you’re just a silly brat who’s ruining our star.” He approached you again, your hand gripping the coffee tighter, full of tension. 

“i’m sorry sir, i didn’t…”

“shut up!” he raised his voice, and a sharp pain settled in your chest. Your legs feel like jelly and you feel nauseous. You wanna run, scream, leave. You feel humiliated, scared, frustrated. You want to leave. You wanna throw your coffee and run to your car, away from people, away from that. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he asked you, frowning and getting dangerously close to you. 

at that moment a hand landed on your waist, fast, agile, and moved you backwards. Soon your boyfriend’s body was in front of you, facing the man, who opened his eyes wide, surprised. The man stammered, distracted, forgetting for a moment all the rage he felt. 

Jack was about to explode. He was coming out of the locker room, with Timo at his side. His head was somewhere else, and all he wanted was to take refuge in your arms and recharge his energy. It was a surprise when his teammate gently nudged him with his elbow to get his attention. 

his stomach dropped, his breath hitching. Anxiety, surprise, panic. He could see the way your body looked smaller and smaller.

he reacted automatically, moving before he could think twice. 

“man, what a surprise,” the man said, still disoriented. Jack could smell the alcohol on his breath and frowned. 

“do you have a problem?” he asked, his voice calm, although you noticed the coldness in his words. His arm stretched out at his side, preventing you from getting closer. 

the man laughed nervously and uncomfortably, not looking at you again, now with his eyes fixed on the floor. 

“i don’t wanna see you near her, if you have a problem, you can come talk to me or the coach, or whoever, but not her.” Jack stared at him. Out of the corner of your eye you saw everyone slowly getting closer. Timo had warned them. They were there, they were protecting you too. 

“yeah, i’m sorry,” the man muttered, his face and neck flushed and still looking at the floor. 

“don’t apologize to me man, apologize to her.” this time, Jack failed to hide the disgust in his voice, and he complied, looking at you with panicked eyes. 

“i’m sorry, kiddo, i actually like your relationship, i’m just a little frustrated.” he tried to laugh, but when no one laughed with him he just apologized and tried to leave as quickly as possible. They’ll have to keep an eye on him from now on, Jack thought.

when you saw him disappear behind the doors, the air left your lungs shakily, the now cold coffee almost slipping from your hand. Your body leaned forward, and your free hand rested on your thigh. Jack quickly turned to look at you, and with one of his hands he gently caressed your back. 

“are you okay, babe?” he asked in a sweet and low voice. He knew the answer, but he wanted to check that you were paying attention. You nodded in response, although both of you knew the truth. 

they gave you a few minutes to lower the tension, and then one by one the boys and your friends approached to make sure you were okay, wishing you two a good night and then saying goodbye. 

Luke isn't going to stay with you that night, since he won't be home. So before he left he came over to you to hug you tightly, almost breaking that image of security that you had tried to maintain. Whispers of comfort filled your ear before he pulled away, and with a small smile he left.

when you and Jack were alone, he took your hand and quickly led you to the car. You quickly climbed into the passenger seat, and when he sat down, it only took you a couple of seconds before you burst into tears. His arms wrapped around you tightly, moving your body and settling you on his lap. There, in his arms, was your safe place, where you could break and put yourself back together. 

Jack spent the night reminding you how important you are to him, because he would never let you forget that, but at the same time, you did not forget him, and you tried your best to comfort him. 

cuddled up in the bed you both share, you found your safe place again, where everything would be okay no matter what, because you have each other.

divider by: @cafekitsune

[g1rld1ary]

long time no see - aaron hotchner x hs gf!reader

wc: 1395

cw: minor drinking

me: first time writing for hotch so sorry if there are characterisation issues!!!! i love this pairing so feel free to send reqs if u want more from them bc they're cuties <33

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Aaron Hotchner am I dreaming or is that you?” You called from across the semi-quiet bar of some middle-of-the-road restaurant. You weren’t 100% convinced it was really him, but the upright posture and stern side profile brought back a lifetime of memories.

Aaron turned quickly, almost paranoid, but his face flashed through a thousand emotions as he took in the sight of you. He settled on what looked like joy, though it was always a little bit of a gamble with him, especially after so many years apart. The intricacies of his expressions weren’t intimacies you were entitled to anymore.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, reciprocating your warm embrace, “You look great.”

“As do you, Aaron. This suit is really nice.” You ran your fingers along his lapels. It was a gesture probably too familiar for two people who hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years, but seeing Aaron had already had an effect on you.

“Do you live around here?” Hotch asked again, a hand warm on your bicep even as you’d stopped hugging.

“Just moved back,” You answered brightly, “Spent the last decade or so in New York but, you know, my parents are getting older. Thought it was time to come home.”

“I’m glad. It’s really great to see you.”

“What are you up to now? Still—”

“Hotch!” A voice interrupted, “Our table’s ready. Who’s this?” The man was obviously a few years younger than Aaron which made you question their relationship — coworkers was the most likely answer, but they seemed awfully comfortable together. Behind them, you caught a glance of a larger group all looking at you curiously. You weren’t ashamed to say you were intimidated.

Aaron took a long look at you as he considered how to answer his friend’s question.

“An old friend from high school.” He introduced you both, and you took particular notice of the title Morgan was given.

“SSA?” You asked, “Like the FBI? I thought you were going to be a lawyer, Aaron?”

“Your friend is team leader of the BAU,” Morgan laughed as Hotch’s humble nature started to show, “He’s a bit of a top dog around the FBI.”

“I can see that.” You were impressed, you hadn’t imagined your high school boyfriend would end up as an important FBI agent.

“I was a prosecutor for a while,” Aaron conceded to make you feel better, “But I’ve been with the FBI for a while now, I feel like I’m making more of a difference.”

You shook your head with a small laugh, “You’re as good as you used to be, Aaron Hotchner. Tell me, has he developed any flaws since he’s been at the BAU?” You directed the question over to Morgan, whose interested surprise was clear in his expression. Evidently, he didn’t exactly agree with you, though you could see plainly how much he respected him.

“Let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be an incompetent local cop — I’m pretty sure he knows more insults than the rest of the team combined.”

“Will you eat with us?” Aaron changed the subject suddenly, “Unless, of course, you have other plans.”

You glanced over at the novel sitting in your now-vacant seat and didn’t think twice. You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing over to collect your things and return before the invitation could be rescinded.

You tried to stay calm as you approached the immensely intimidating table of FBI agents, all doing a poor job of acting as if they hadn’t just been talking about you.

“Hi,” You smiled, sitting down in the empty seat next to Aaron. You were immediately bombarded with questions. About yourself, your life, your relationship with Aaron. It was overwhelming, but you liked the energy and you liked seeing Aaron all grown up.

It was clear his team respected him, you could see it in every look they gave him, and you didn’t even need to be a profiler to notice it. You were strangely proud of him despite not having been in his life for the majority of adulthood, but you supposed everyone always had a bit of a soft spot for their first love.

“Why did you two break up?” Doctor Reid, the youngest of the group, asked as you all tucked into your food. You looked at Aaron for a long moment, a million memories slingshotting themselves to the forefront of your brain.

“I hardly remember,” You answered finally, “I’m sure it wasn’t a good reason — it rarely is when you’re young. I daresay I was probably jealous of the college girls getting to see Aaron every day whilst I was in AP Lang.”

“You’re younger?” Elle asked with sudden interest, a teasing smile on her lips. You nodded, picking up your wine glass.

“Two years.”

“My man!” Derek cheered and you were sure he would have tried to dap his boss up if it wasn’t so entirely anti-Hotch.

The dinner, though definitely a little strange, was full of joy and you enjoyed it immensely. The BAU were a group of such lovely people, they were immediately welcoming to you. They did, however, make you feel old.

Spencer was practically a child, only twenty-three, you and Aaron had already been broken up for a few years by twenty-three! Elle wasn’t much older, and Garcia and Morgan acted a bit like twelve-year-olds when together. You were told stories about Gideon, an older agent who’d built the BAU, but apparently he’d flaked dinner.

The meal wrapped up, and you couldn’t stop your gratitude flowing out for the wonderful night you’d had. Maybe you were a little bit wine drunk. Luckily the team all reciprocated, expressing fond wishes to see you again.

“Can I drive you home?” Aaron asked as the table began collecting their things and pulling on coats.

“That would be nice,” You beamed, “Just let me pop to the bathroom or I’ll be pissing in your car seats again. Uh, don’t ask.” Garcia giggled behind her hand as you darted off through the restaurant.

“She seems nice,” Elle said, buttoning up her coat.

“She is nice. It’s nice to reconnect with an old friend.”

“She might be nice but she’s not a friend, man. She looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky.” Hotch shook his head at Derek’s accusation, but there was definitely the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“It’s true,” Reid piped up, “Her pupils dilated significantly when looking at you, she was almost always leant towards you with open posture, and she brushed her hair behind her ear sixteen times during the meal.” He awkwardly reciprocated Morgan’s offered high-five.

Hotch was a perfect gentleman, even when you weren’t dating. He’d given you his arm as you strolled down toward his car in a nearby parking lot and opened the passenger door for you to hop in. When you’d told him the address to your flat he didn’t plug it in the GPS which was inconsequential but hugely impressive.

“Who would’ve thought after all these years we’d be back in the same city, driving around town late at night?” You sighed contentedly, watching lights and buildings pass through the rain-spotted window.

Aaron hummed in agreement, both hands on the steering wheel. You liked to watch them, you always had.

“Let’s not leave it so long next time, hm?” Aaron said as he escorted you up to your apartment door. You didn’t invite him in and he showed no indication of wanting to enter. The night was enough. “It was really great to see you.”

You smiled, a warm, genuine one that had Aaron smiling back. For a moment you saw his eighteen-year-old self in it, the image of him kissing you goodnight after his prom fresh in your mind.

“Aaron?” You called him back and he didn’t hesitate, long strides bringing him back to you in moments. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, pleased by his gentle surprise, “I really missed you.”

[fxirybun]

☕ PAC: some facts about your next partner

not my usual way of making a pac reading ‘cause this time i'm gonna use the bullet form ^_^

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ book 📓

𐙚 came from a very rich family or has a wealthy background.

𐙚 they're not into "labels" or jump into a relationship quickly.

𐙚 may possibly have a small circle of friends in their life.

𐙚 an introvert or a quite type , your next partner prefers to be lowkey.

𐙚 has this magnetic charm that makes others feel drawn by them without even trying.

𐙚 mysterious to the point you won't figure them out right away.

𐙚 may prolly be into something artsy stuff.

𐙚 very independent and doesn't like clingy people around them.

𐙚 has a resting b*tch face or rbf look.

𐙚 has a lot of goals in their life they wish to achieved now.

𐙚 is very successful with their career , earns a lot of money from it.

𐙚 you're expected to meet them in some random , unplanned way. a possibility of a friend who will introduce you to this person.

𐙚 may have issues with their family but still has a lot of fond for them.

𐙚 super practical with their things and doesn't tend to overspend.

𐙚 this person is into slow burn romance when it comes to love.

𐙚 it takes time to get to know them 'cause they be hiding something.

𐙚 your next partner has trust issues due to their past.

𐙚 they've gone through a lot which has changed them drastically.

𐙚 knows how to bounce back from whatever the universe has thrown at them.

𐙚 they're worth the effort to go for them so..

𐙚 once they're starting to open up to you , they're all in for the ride.

𐙚 geez once you got into a rs with them , they're gonna be hella flirty.

𐙚 their love language is words of affirmation , a smooth talker.

𐙚 loves giving tons of compliments to make you feel confident about yourself.

𐙚 the type to surprise you with little things that you may not notice.

𐙚 an example is trying to match with your pfp whilst you're unaware.

𐙚 emotional af 'cause they feel things deeply. once they care , they're gonna care hard.

𐙚 is into aesthetics , trying to look good about themselves 24/7.

𐙚 may into decorating their room or space that suits their taste.

𐙚 possibly into spirituality or at least has a belief on something.

EXTRAS : water , fire , & earth energies , leo , aries , cancer , virgo , capricorn , sun , venus , mercury , saturn , very intuitive or psychic , has daddy vibes / dom , puts faith in the universe , sees things that others don't , knows how to balance their schedule , 4 , 6 , 3 , 2 , E , Z , Y , B , L , 10:10 , 3:33 , 666 , 555 , 4:44 , paris , dove , leaf , heart , anchor.

ෆ⸒⸒ drinks🧋

𐙚 they're a bit guarded with their emotions at first.

𐙚 doesn't fall in love very easily , is lowkey bad at catching feelings.

𐙚 slow to open up at first but once they do they're gonna act deep.

𐙚 very active online , always stay on trends about what's going on.

𐙚 not into dating apps , you may meet them irl , or through social media. may also try to slide into your dms.

𐙚 may not be into oversharing but once they feel comfortable you'll be shocked about the things they gonna say.

𐙚 your next partner can be the type who asks a lot of questions.

𐙚 super curious to know things , can be a yapper at times.

𐙚 loves to engage in deep convos with others , they're very smart.

𐙚 their mind runs in motions ‘cause they be absorbing a lot of infos.

𐙚 knows how to create jokes or just them acting all witty.

𐙚 an info junkie , gives random facts , trivias , or conspiracy theories.

𐙚 the type who's a workaholic , they be grinding their ass off to work.

𐙚 may have multiple jobs : one main & other a side hustle / freelance.

𐙚 has a perfectionist streak , tends to double-check everything.

𐙚 always going through a glow-up process in their lives.

𐙚 your next partner can be a bit sentimental about their past.

𐙚 example is still keeping their fave hoodie back from high school.

𐙚 lowkey a romantic person but doesn't show it in obvious ways.

𐙚 a detail freak , they be noticing the tiniest things you wouldn't even think of.

𐙚 even though they're serious they still got their playful energy within them.

𐙚 not the most to be open but very loyal once they're in for a rs.

𐙚 has a good relationship with their mother.

𐙚 your next partner is wiser beyond their years.

𐙚 they do vibe checks on others due to how intuitive they are.

𐙚 can read the room and know what's going on.

𐙚 very talented in one area , whether it's art , music , etc.

𐙚 if someone did them dirty they gonna cut them off quickly.

𐙚 the type who is "forgive but never forget" kind of person.

𐙚 faced a lot of heavy situations yet they remained triumph over it.

EXTRAS : water , earth , & air energies , cancer , gemini , virgo , scorpio , moon , mercury , pluto , dealt with heartbreak before , likes to form connections , may take time to rest as a way to recharge their social battery , waiting for their efforts to come into fruition , 4 , 3 , 2 , H , O , J , C , M , 444 , 5:55 , 1:11 , 12:12 , 4:44 , 666 , clover , star , cupid's arrow , eyeglasses , unicorn.

ෆ⸒⸒ paint 🎨

𐙚 your next partner is giving golden retriever vibes , likes to hug from behind.

𐙚 the kind of person who can light up the room by just being there.

𐙚 can turn any bad day around with their sense of humor.

𐙚 this person is very responsible with whatever they're doing.

𐙚 acts ambitious and is seen as a go-getter for some people.

𐙚 is patient with everything but may tend to miss out on things.

𐙚 the reason : they think that the world runs on their time.

𐙚 your next partner always think before they do something.

𐙚 you can always rely on them when you need help with tasks.

𐙚 this person acts or seen as the “mother” of a whole friend group.

𐙚 someone who's faithful but can be a lil bit sensitive at times.

𐙚 very creative with something that is seen as an inspiration for others.

𐙚 may have a hidden talent like painting , writing , music , etc.

𐙚 there are tons of people who look up to them as their role model.

𐙚 this person could possibly be a psychic or has a good intuition.

𐙚 a sharp thinker that enjoys engaging in deep conversations.

𐙚 smart and isn’t afraid to speak up their mind about a topic.

𐙚 they take no bs from others and remains true to themselves only.

𐙚 knows how to balance their time with work and relationships.

𐙚 your next partner values honesty in communication.

𐙚 always down for trying new things or having some fun with you.

𐙚 a good support buddy for their friends , has a "ride or die" energy.

𐙚 has a knack for seeing the bright side in every difficult situations.

𐙚 this person is into friendly debates that challenges the norms.

𐙚 they're all about that getting the "bag" and they're serious about it.

𐙚 somehow i kept on getting the lyrics "i need a big boy , give me a big boy" lmao.

𐙚 lowkey has simp vibes or a hopeless romantic but they don't show it right away.

𐙚 has a chill energy or simply the type who has that go-with-the-flow attitude.

𐙚 this person can act as your safe place when life gets messy for you.

𐙚 they don't stress themselves over the little things.

EXTRAS : fire , water , earth , air energies , leo , taurus , virgo , cancer , pisces , libra , gemini , sun , saturn , mercury , moon , neptune , venus , very truthful with their words , this person is physically strong , a lover boy / girl at heart , loves the whole ides of romance in general , has a strong spiritual ties with their ancestors , 1 , 2 , 8 , 7 , C , I , V , R , S , 12:12 , 3:33 , 999 , 666 , 777 , music note , monkey , made with love , rose , fairy.

[writingsonsaturn]

safe and sound

{ masterlist } { the 'taylor swift' series }

🪐- @elliewilliamgfooc this ones for you pookie hope you like it <33

wc - 1.4k

content warning - car accident, very sad tim, blood, hospitals, hurt/comfort

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Your ears were ringing.

Everything felt loud, but muted at the same time. It took a minute for you to realize you were hanging upside down, you don’t even remember what happened - all of it was tainted and blurred.

“Miss? Can you tell me your name?” the words echoed around you but they didn’t reach you, what was your name? Oh- “Y/n, my n-name is Y/n Bradford” you forced out, jaw quivering with pain. “Okay, Y/n, we are gonna get you out of here okay? It’s gonna be okay,” the emt tried her best to keep you calm but your panic overtook your mind.

Were you gonna die?

When was the last time you told Tim you loved him?

How did this even happen?

All the questions you were asking, you couldn’t answer. Nothing made sense and you wanted Tim, Tim could answer all these questions, he could calm you down. “M-my husband, he’s a cop- please get him” you cried, tears dripping onto the ceiling of your vehicle. “We called him sweetheart, he’s on his way” the woman, you hadn’t learned the name of, assured you the best she could. 

You were starting to feel the pressure on your body, the pounding fists against the inside of your skull was agonizing. Suddenly, a voice clear as day broke through your conscience - “Where is she?” Tim was frantic, you could tell. The pitch in his voice was higher than usual. 

“Baby? Baby, I’m here!” The voice only made you start to cry harder, you didn’t know the extent of your injuries but you knew they weren’t good. “I’m scared” the sob ripped through your throat, “Shh, I know but you’re gonna be just fine” Tim laid down on his stomach, reaching out to hold your hand the best he could without getting cut by the shards of glass that littered the ground. 

Tim helped in every way he could, putting on the neck brace and keeping you calm when they began using the jaws of life in an attempt to get you out. He wanted to freak out, the love of his life was hanging upside down, blood dripping from places he couldn’t tell, and your hand was beginning to lose its grip on his - but Tim had to keep calm for the both of you.

Once the fire team got you out it was all hands on deck, they realized there was a deep laceration on your thigh, one that directly hit your femoral artery. Luckily, the piece of metal that caused the laceration stayed embedded in your leg which stopped any major bleeding from occurring. Tim had seen a lot of things in his years on the field, but nothing as earth shattering as seeing you laid out on the ground, with injuries covering the skin he was just kissing this morning. 

Paramedics worked fast to secure the metal in your thigh, you screamed in pain when they tightened a tourniquet around your leg, begging them to stop. Tim nearly pushed them off for you had he not known better, his hand finding yours again when they gave him the go ahead. “I’m sorry baby, I know” Tim felt himself getting emotional, he hated seeing you in this much agony and not being able to take it away from you.

The moment the team got you stabilized it was time to move you into the back of the ambulance, you ended up becoming unconscious the moment they got you secured. Tim knew it had been your brain shutting down to protect you from the immense pain you were experiencing but he still panicked, still watched the heart monitor like his worst fear of you flatlining would happen the second he looked away. 

His hand squeezed yours, pleading with the universe to not take you away from him. Everything he had ever wanted, the person he would dream about to escape the abuse in his own home. All of it laid with you. You weren’t just his partner, you were his one good thing. 

“Baby, if you can hear me, you fight, you fight goddamnit” his words came out broken, kissing your forehead. It was cold, why was it cold? 

“Please, stay here” 

They rushed you into surgery the moment the wheels of the gurney hit the ground, Tim forced to stay behind the OR doors, his heart being left behind with you, hoping you could still feel his presence. 

Tim called Angela, explaining in short words what was happening. She showed up within 10 minutes, pulling Tim into a tight hug immediately, “she’ll be okay, everything is going to be okay Tim, but you need to breathe,” Angela was empathetic but stern. Tim gripped his chest and closed his eyes, counting to 5 for each breath in. Angela rubbed his back, keeping him together like a loose puzzle missing its most important piece. 

“I'm gonna get a coffee, do you want anything? Angela said, standing up and looking back at Tim waiting for him to respond. “No, im okay” Tim answered, staring a hole into the chair across from him, Angela knew better than to take Tim at his word so she got him a coffee anyways.  

She convinced him to drink the steaming cup by telling him they had a long night in their future and neither of them wanted to sleep, you and Angela were like sisters - hell you were a bridesmaid at her almost wedding. 

Angela likes to think she knew you were the one for Tim way before he did, the light in his eyes would brighten when she would bring you up, or when you would text him on duty telling him to ‘be safe because i’m waiting for you.’

It was early morning when the surgeon came to give your husband an update on you, “Bradford?” Tim’s legs responded faster than his mind did, walking him over to be met with words that could destroy him forever or kissing the ground beneath him. 

“Your wife was very hit or miss for a bit, some internal bleeding, a couple of broken ribs and a mild concussion. However, we were able to get her stable, she is waiting for you in ICU room 112” Surgeon Mcflay finished with a lighthearted smile, Tim hugged the man like his life depended on it, and in some ways it had. “Thank you, thank you so much,” Tim exclaimed. “Just doing my job, Mr. Bradford” Mcflay smiled and patted Tim on the shoulder.

Angela wasn’t able to go in with him, the risk of infection was high so they limited it to one guest at a time. “Give her my love,” she waved him off before he could engulf her in his tight hug as well, knowing you needed to feel it more. 

Tim was warned you had a lot of cords hooked up to your body and the bruising was intense but he was just glad to see a heartbeat accompanying you, your body was covered head to toe but all he saw was the woman he fell in love with, safe and sound. 

He pulled the chair that sat in the corner up next to your bedside, gripping your hand and kissing your knuckles. “I love you so much,” he mouthed, lips still resting on your skin. 

Shortly after knowing you were okay, Tim fell asleep with his head resting right next to your leg - the sound of your heart monitor lulling him to rest, and allowing his heart to finally return to its place back inside his chest right where he kept yours. 

“Tim, honey” your voice ran into his ear shaking his brain to wake him up, Tim’s eyes shot open he felt a weight on his head that hadn’t been there before. He realized it was your hand, gently running fingers through his hair, “Oh baby,” Tim broke down into tears when he saw your beautiful eyes looking back at him. 

He couldn’t keep himself together anymore, “I'm okay my love, it’s okay” you reassured even though your throat burned. Tim needed you too, you might’ve been in the hospital bed but Tim just sat in a waiting room for god knows how long not knowing if he’d see you again. You wished you had been able to comfort him, let him know you were okay. 

As Tim held you, weary of your wounds, he couldn’t help but stare at you just so he could make sure this was real and not a cruel way of his mind protecting him from another worse reality.

You were real, your survival was real, and the heartbeat he heard in your chest while crying into you was as real as the air he was breathing. “We’ll get through this baby, you and me” Tim told you, aware of the months of physical therapy you might need.

‘You and me.” 

[yelenasbraid]

home to me — joe burrow

summary — bengals are now 0-3, and joe couldn’t feel worse about it. luckily, you’re there to help pick up his broken pieces

warnings — fem!reader, major angst, fluff, crying joey (SORRY)

note — surprise! and don’t come after me!

YOU WATCH WITH AN ACHING HEART the last 4 seconds of the game. you wished so badly for a miracle, for an interception, for something to turn that 33 into anything higher than a 38. offense looked great, defense? you could do better than they did without the padding.

that was your bitterness talking.

you filed out of the stadium and down to where you usually met joe; outside the locker room. you knew that this wasn’t going to be the celebration you hoped for. you knew that joe wasn’t going to have that boyish grin on his face, and it broke your heart. you felt like you haven’t seen joe smile in weeks.

you stood there, anxiously swaying as you watched player after player shuffle in from the field. those who noticed you gave you a small, sad smile. others kept going, angry at themselves and at the world.

joe appeared at the end of the crowd of players, as he usually did, with his head down. his shoulders sagged, but it wasn’t until he looked up and locked eyes with you that you saw everything.

joe was devastated, and rightfully so.

he parted from the staff member and walked over to you, a small pep in his step as he did so. no words were spoken as he threw his arms around you, bringing you as close as he could get you. you embraced him back, cradling his head as he nuzzled into your neck.

he’s never done this before, even after a win. for joe to express this level of emotion right after a game was unusual. it worried you, but maybe you were overthinking. you hoped you were.

joe separated from you, sniffling and keeping the tears at bay. you held onto his hands and watched him with a worried eye.

“i’m fine,” he answered your silent question. you knew he wasn’t, and he knew that you knew. that much was obvious.

“ok,” you hummed, but that’s all you were going to say right now. you didn’t believe him, and he knew that. joe gave you a single look, his eyes opening a gateway into his heart, the depth of his sadness. he was beating himself up, and pretty badly too.

“i might be a minute, go on home. i’ll see you later,” he told you. driving separately wasn’t abnormal, sometimes you had to. especially if it was an away game. what was odd was the way he seemed to stick around, unable to move his feet.

“ok, i love you,” you reminded him. his face softened, letting your words permeate through the tension in his chest. he just needed to make it through the press conference.

“i love you,” he replied. he gave you a lingering kiss on the forehead before he stepped away. he didn’t want to, though. he wanted to stay where it was safe, where it was comfortable. he wanted to stay with you because he didn’t have to explain himself. somehow, you always knew.

—

you were showered and in your pajamas by the time joe got home. you sat on the couch, blanket draped over your legs and your phone in your hands. you saw the comments, the videos of disappointed fans. you saw the posts all about how much of an upset the loss was. the more you read on, the more you realized that the fans didn’t think joe was at fault. they’d be right, it wasn’t his fault.

your eyes flicked up from your phone as joe made his way further into the house. his footsteps are heavy, as is the rest of his body. he’s exhausted, and there’s only a thread keeping him from falling apart.

“babe?” you called out to him, and he slowly turned his eyes towards you. his eyes were puffy, his face was red; did he cry in the car on the way home? silence met your questioning tone, but it did stop him in his tracks.

usually after a bad game, or a loss, joe needed space. he’d trudge up to his office and stay there for a few hours, pouring over film and noting strategies they needed to try next time. he was still going to do those things, but tonight was different. you knew it was the second he hugged you like he did after the game.

“i’m fine,” he replied, his voice breaking. joe didn’t like crying, in fact, he hated it. but he grew used to it, learning that just because he cried didn’t mean he was any less or he was weak. it took him a while for him to trust you with that vulnerability, but once he did, the flood gates couldn’t be locked tight for long.

“you’re not,” you hummed softly. he knew he wasn’t, and he wasn’t trying hard enough to hide it. he screwed his eyes shut, trying to make the tears go away, but all it did was make his eyes burn more.

“don’t run away from me, don’t shut me out,” you stood up from your spot on the couch, slowly walking over to him. he was battling himself as he stood there, tears sliding down his raw cheeks. his mind was waging a war against him, telling him lies about himself and about how he played.

“why?” he asked you.

“why what?”

“i’ve lost three games, and i’ve treated you horribly after two of them. why are you still with me?” he voiced his vulnerability, his fear. his heart told him you wouldn’t leave him because of a losing streak, but the malicious whispers in his mind told him a different story.

“one, you apologized to me and we talked about it,” you started, “secondly, joey, i’m still with you because you are the love of my life. you’re there to pick me up when i’m down, you’re able to make me laugh, you’ve helped me put pieces of myself back together that you didn’t break in the first place. you’re protective, and you’re a fighter, that’s why i’m with you and will always be with you,” you finished, peering into his eyes. you saw your words sink in and start to meld him back together, but it wasn’t enough.

“i’ve lost three games, three. no matter how hard i fight, no matter how well i think i did, i can’t seem to win a damn game!” joe spoke through gritted teeth, his hands going through his hair. he’s frustrated, he’s angry, and he’s beating himself up. he’s not blaming the team, he’s blaming himself.

“all of these people, all of the fans, you, i’ve disappointed them. i’ve disappointed you, i promised myself that i was going to bring home a superbowl ring, for both of us, and if we keep losing-”

“stop, joey,” you interrupted his spiral with a soft hand to his chest. he’s panting, out of breath from the amount of anxiety he’s giving himself.

“listen to me, look at me,” you tilt his chin so his eyes meet yours, feeling the soft starts of scruff against your finger tips, “you did not disappoint me, and you most certainly didn’t disappoint the fans watching you tonight. you played well, you made decisive plays, you were quick to release the ball. you did your job and did it well. and you will get that super bowl ring, i believe that, and so do you. you’ve beat the odds before, you’ve showed the world to never underestimate joe burrow, the small town kid from athens, ohio. so, show them again. show them what this kid can do,” you went on, shining light on the things that made joe joe.

“i’ve failed that kid,” he whispered, afraid to say it out loud. he’s fought so hard his whole life, and he still fought. joe’s never given up and he doesn’t plan on it, but the anger hasn’t settled in yet. the vengeance hasn’t taken root yet.

“no, no love you didn’t, you haven’t. you didn’t fail him when you tore your acl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the superbowl, you didn’t fail him when you went to the afc championship, you didn’t fail him amidst the injuries and the doubts. that kid would do anything to play football, and that’s exactly what you’re doing,” you told him, cradling his cheek with your hand. you could see the crack in his hard exterior, the way his blue eyes showed the depths of his soul. you could see glimpses of baby joey, the anxiety that ran deep, that threatened to take hold.

when joe looked at you, that anxiety slithered away. it tucked its tail and ran; you were his god given solace. he felt at home, he felt the warmth and the safety that radiated off of you.

“what did i do to deserve you?” he asked, melting into your touch.

“absolutely nothing,” you replied. you took his hand, guiding him back to the couch. you sat down, resting your back against the arm rest. you didn’t have to offer him, joe just found himself laying against your chest, his arms wrapped around you. you wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head and threading your fingers through his frosted tips.

“i’m so proud of you, you know that?” you asked.

“i do,” he replied. he melted into you, relaxing against the feeling of your fingers against his scalp and your steady heartbeat in your chest.

“panthers don’t stand a chance,” he mumbled against your chest, making you laugh.

“show em who’s boss, baby,” you chuckled. joe would always come home to you, which wasn’t always physically. sure, home was a place, but it was also a person. you were his home, and he was home as long as he was with you.

i wrote this in one sitting!!! it took some editing and some rethinking, but i’m pretty proud of it! this may not be totally accurate joe but whatevs. enjoy this lovely, angsty piece!

[itoshiierae]

How do you think situationship!Karasu would be like ?? 😓😓😩

ᡣ𐭩 notes: oh situationship!karasu???? he’s a menace 💀 idk what it is about karasu but he definitely gives off “we’re not dating but then gets mad when you breathe near someone else” energy. like sir??? you just said we’re chill??? anywayyy this one’s for the girls who are stuck in a situationship with a man who cuddles you like it means something but disappears every time you bring up feelings. stay strong besties. you deserve better <33 but also… he’s kinda hot 🤭

✧ situationship!karasu is the type to kiss you like you’re his, then laugh it off with a casual “don’t catch feelings, yeah?” right after — as if he didn’t just kiss your soul out of your body.

✧ situationship!karasu loves toeing the line between being flirty and emotional. one minute he’s calling you ‘princess’ with a smirk, the next he’s saying, “i don’t really open up to people, but with you… it’s just different.” — and then afterwards, he’ll just vanish for a few days and act like nothing happened.

✧ situationship!karasu is sooo physically affectionate when the both of you are alone — arm slung around your shoulders, kisses pressed to your temple, brushing hair out of your eyes like you’re delicate, almost as if he cares. but when someone asks what the two of you are, he goes, “we’re just chillin’. it’s not that deep.”

✧ situationship!karasu texts you “you home safe?” after late-night hook-ups. sends memes the next morning, like he didn’t make you question your entire self-worth at 2am the night before.

✧ situationship!karasu gets visibly annoyed when he sees you talking to another guy, but plays it cool. “you’re free to do what you want,” he says, but then turns cold for the rest of the night. and you know it’s because he’s jealous, even if he won’t admit it.

✧ situationship!karasu gets uncomfortable when you try to confront him about what the both of you are, he does that thing where he jokes his way out of it. “you wanna be my girlfriend so bad, huh?” but there’s a flicker in his eyes. like maybe… he wants it too, but he’s scared of what that would mean.

© itoshiierae 2025 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ please do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[cherie-doll]

Jello! so ive been reading a lot of your works this week, they are so good holy hell! I love the way you write CoD characters in a way that doesn't mischaracterize them.

So I was wondering if you could do COD men dealing with a reader who has awful adhd burnout?? After months of being visibly "hyper" and talkative they just shutdown and sometimes tend to lay in bed for days on end, even not being able to eat cause they get so down? Its not like they are lazy but its obvious they get extremely mentally and physically drained?

This is one of my first ever requests so if u dont wanna do this that's alright, u can ignore this lol. I hope ur having a great day or week :P

woahhh, thank you!! im rlly happy you enjoy my hcs and how i write characters, it takes me a while but i see the effort is worth it :D <33

=͟͟͞♡ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

COD Men w/ Reader who has adhd burnout

:‹ Price would one day come home to find the house a little messy; maybe some chores haven't been done or there's just silence. He walks in to find you lying in bed, the tv isn't on, no music or any signs of you occupying yourself with anything. It seems you aren't asleep either though. He doesn't directly ask you why you haven't done anything, instead he greets you like usual; in his tender, loving way. He presses a kiss against your temple as he gently murmurs a greeting. You startle a bit, not having noticed him there. You thought it was still early morning, not having taken note of how the day went by and you couldn't get started on anything. It's always been a little difficult but at least you had some sort of initiative, now, you feel like you can't even think of what to do first. But he doesn't pressure you, instead enveloping you in a comfort you can recharge in.

:‹ Simon had picked up on your recent feelings of being overwhelmed; you had a hard time thinking and couldn't even do tasks. He had become cautious; not needing to ask or pry to know he had to provide some support for you. Even more when he noticed you didn't stay up an extra hour to enjoy your favorite hobby and instead went straight to sleep. It felt like you couldn't get enough rest, the night would pass by quickly and still your mind felt foggy; unable to clear for the next day ahead. Simon knew any small change would feel like too much for you right now, you could barely handle your current schedule. You just needed to recharge a bit, and he completely understood that. While he preferred staying productive he wouldn't push that onto you, if anything he would take care of some things until you felt ready to help too.

:‹ Johnny isn't great at reading you. He does his best at picking up cues on your behavior, but it really is difficult if you're just closing your eyes, trying to breathe without letting your emotions get the upper hand again. You've withdrawn; only switching from laying in bed, covered in blankets to your little space where you usually enjoy your hobbies like drawing, writing or listening to music.. but even that feels like too much. You can't even think clearly. You're so tired and you wish to sleep, but your dreams are restless and you wake up. Johnny misses you when you close up like this, he loves hearing you talk and go on for hours on end about your day or whatever other topics you ricochet to and from. But he is caring and considerate. He won't push anything onto you, or ask too many questions that might disturb you. He knows you've always been a hard worker, so he'll let you rest for a long time. And he'll be waiting to hear your enthusiastic voice again when you're feeling better.

:‹ Kyle would gently encourage you to ask for help if you feel like you really need it. Of course, he wouldn't say it right away, he would give you time and try his best to be the supporting partner that you need him to be. Eventually, out of worry he'll try to get you to talk about it with him or someone else if that's what you are most comfortable with. When you do try to take on tasks or things you need to do, he makes sure you take breaks and time to relax again if you are starting to get overwhelmed. The last thing he'd want is for you to get restarted on the cycle and go back to being unable to do anything. Not because he dislikes seeing you do nothing but because he knows how you get when you can't do anything. You almost blame yourself for feeling like this, and he wishes you could talk to him more about it. But he does what he can in helping you. He just wants you to feel alright.

:‹ Roach isn't much to talk and prefers to just sit in silence and admire you with puppy eyes when you talk. Literally how y'all spent quality time together. Naturally, he'd be alarmed at the fact that you've completely quiet and won't speak. It's been more than 24 hours and you're still in bed, not really turning to look at him and just staring into space or trying to sleep. At first, he may think you're upset at him, perhaps he did something wrong. But then he takes notice of the fatigue in your eyes, how you can barely answer him when he softly asks a question. You don't want to be treating him like this, but it's just so hard to regulate and let alone express how you feel right now. You can barely begin to describe this feeling before being able to form a sentence. Thankfully, he isn't one to take things to heart too soon because he places your feelings over his. He can see it has nothing to do with him by the way you let him lie close to you. You will be fine for now like this since he's so understanding.

:‹ Alejandro may find it hard to understand or see things from your perspective. You were fine a couple days ago; why the sudden change? You've been in this repeating cycle that you can't break out of and it has you sick. You try doing things for him, try to get yourself together but nothing is working. You can barely function and he notices this, thinks something is deeply wrong as it disturbs him to see you like this. He's immediately dropping anything he was planning on doing or asking of you to instead find out what's wrong. You weren't planning on really telling him and just shrugging him off but he asked if you needed anything and you hesitated. He can ready you pretty well so he nodded, as if there was an exchange of words in that silence. He told you to take it easy and encouraged you to rely on him as much as you needed to. It was refreshing to feel that coming from him.

:‹ Rodolfo would require some self control to not go overboard on the caretaking. He already likes doing everything for you, but when you're unable to get anything done it can be overbearing to see him want to solve everything as soon as he can. Your attempts to push him away make him realize that he needs to take a different approach. Yes, your health is important but he also needs to know how you feel. He takes a moment to listen to you if you feel ready to express your feelings. He tries to help you figure out what exactly is causing you to feel drained, maybe it was something that happened recently that you've been thinking about too much. Perhaps you just needed some time to winddown after being focused for so long on certain tasks. He still continues to care for you but also steps back some if you need some space to breath.

:‹ Phillip is always praising you for how well you treat him, all you do for him and nod along to anything you say. But feeling like you've been lacking in a department you can't quite name have taken over instead. It's not anything he's said or done that have necessarily made you feel this way. There's been no motivation to fuel you or keep you from even doing what you love. Since you can't get anything done you feel down and Phillip has taken notice. He can be soft and gentle with you. He'll ask why you haven't done something and it might make you feel worse but it truly wasn't his intention. If you don't answer he'll be okay with that too. He doesn't require a reason from you. He's always wanted you to be happy and content; it's been his motivation since you've gotten together. Obviously, he'd be wanting to intervene if he notices you being visibly upset.

:‹ Makarov isn't always around as much as you'd like him to be. So, it can sometimes be very confusing to him to leave with you being very talkative and energetic to coming back and you're suddenly very quiet. He notices how low energy you are, and he worries thinking you might be sick. It's not often he gets to see you like this unless something is wrong so he's asking what happened, if you've come down with something and might even suggest going to the doctor. Since he's noticed your physical signs of burnout he takes those as indications that you're sick. He takes more notice and worry about your headaches and pain rather than the way you clench your jaw or your obvious anxious self. Don't get him wrong, he wants to help but may not know how to give it correctly.

:‹ Keegan is used to seeing you be up and about; here and there switching from one activity to another. So he's never worried about keeping you occupied while he's away or busy. But seeing you so still and unmotivated makes him feel disturbed. Like there's something wrong but he can't put a finger on it. His mind won't immediately go to different possibilities, instead he'll want to take some sort of action but first he'll assess the situation. It's obvious there's something more troubling than just fatigue gnawing at you. You seem tired mentally too. Poor guy has been there before but he won't compare to how you feel. He values your feelings so much more and he won't ever fully know how you feel or think but the best he can do is try, right? He'll be as patient as he can to try and understand. And it's the most effort anyone has ever made for you.

:‹ König would get so worried if he noticed you weren't eating or taking care of yourself. Like you're so tired, you feel spent and can't seem to get an ounce of energy from sleeping, so you don't even bother getting up to grab anything to eat. You've only drank from the half empty water cups and bottles on your nightstand which have probably started to accumulate dust by now. König doesn't know what to do with you. He tries showing you his phone, silently asking if you want to order some takeout but you shake your head. You probably won't finish it, and you feel like it's unfair to him. He's not much of a cook but he manages to make something simple and leave it at your bedside to see if you'll at least nibble on it. You think he's waiting for you to get up soon but he stays beside you, keeping you company. He just wants to make sure you don't sink deeper and be alone during this.

:‹ Horangi knows how certain things may be difficult for you to do but that's why you two have a routine curated for you. So when he notices you acting so unusual he goes to address it right away. It's not done with the intention to get you working right away but rather to keep your feelings in check, since he knows it's likely feelings that have been brewing for some time. You've had to put in double the work and effort to be the person you are today, and he knows it wouldn't be fair to disregard your feelings to label you as "lazy" just because you feel overwhelmed. Perhaps things have been unbalanced for some time and that is why you're like this. He'll readjust anything to your current needs to get you to feeling better in no time. Won't ever overload you with responsibilities if you don't feel ready yet. He's your partner for a reason; he doesn't mind.

:‹ Nikto assumed you were coming down with a cold or something. He's not the best at noticing things, if he slows down and cares enough to pay attention you'll find that he can be quite observative at times though. "You're not sick", he'll say standing at your bedside after you've skipped dinner again. You would at least reach out for the warm tea that he has offered, but you can't bring yourself to touch the mug and leave it to cool on the nightstand. He asks if you want to do something and you say you're not in the mood when usually you'd pounce at the opportunity to do anything with him. He can't help but feel a little wounded, but this is no time to wallow in his feelings when clearly you've got more of those than he does. He's not good enough with words to provide encouragement or give you a burst of energy through communication. But his silent attempts of aid should work with time.

[ja3yun]

The Sun that Always Burns | CH.3

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: hurt and lots of yearning, mentions of alcohol and panic attack, honestly i think thats it! anything else lmk w.c: 13.2k synopsis: it has been four years since you left your old life and started building a new one. you have settled, found new friends, just about to graduate university. things are looking up. but when your best friend invites you to her sisters wedding, your new life if about to be flipped upside down. a/n: hi! it has been a loooong time but chapter 3 is here <33 a massive thank you for all your patience, i know you guys have probably forgot all about this but since i have written this part and having posted in like 3 months, it's only right i give you guys smthn! it's also my birthday so take this as a present. this chapter has no smut since it's a story arc but there are looots of emotion and plot in here so i hope you all enjoy it the same <3

chapter 2 | masterlist | chapter 4

Four years have passed since you left. Four years without a word to your family beyond a carefully chosen Christmas card, one without a return address or landmark, just enough to let them know you are alive but not enough to invite a response. Sometimes you stare at the cards before you send them, turning them over in your hands, wondering if it would make a difference if you added something more - just a sentence, a small glimpse into your life now. But you never do. You’re not sure they’d want to hear it. Or maybe you’re just afraid they wouldn’t.

Do they hate you for what you did? Would they slam the door in your face for leaving so abruptly? It’s a constant fear for you to imagine them cold and bitter because of your reckless decision.

You miss them in ways that are difficult to put into words, in the quiet moments that catch you off guard - the smell of your mother’s cooking that no restaurant has ever quite been able to replicate, the sound of your father’s laughter when he’s trying not to, the way your childhood bedroom always had a slight chill no matter the season. You missed every part of it, of your old life. 

Sometimes you allow yourself to imagine going back, just for a visit, just to see them again. For your mum’s birthday, maybe, just to see how they’ve aged if at all, changed in any way. But the thought of it makes your chest tighten. You aren’t the person they remember. They knew the girl who ran, not the woman who’s learned how to stand still on her own.

College changed you. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. And you like to think it was for the better.

Eunseo had a lot to do with that. She was the first person to make you feel like you belonged in Avanti, sweeping into your life on the first day you moved in like a summer storm, full of light and noise, already knowing where everything was, who to avoid, which cafés made the best coffee. She was god sent. 

You were a mess then, a crying, dismantled version of yourself, and she took you in without hesitation. At first, you thought she pitied you. Maybe she did. But as time went on, it became clear - Eunseo was simply the kind of person who loved with her whole heart, who saw someone in need and decided to stay.

You wouldn’t have made it without her.

Even after she graduated last year, she stayed close, finding a job nearby to remain in the city she loved. You see her often, and every time, you are more than grateful. Grateful for the nights she held you together when you thought you were falling apart after one too many pity parties, for the mornings she dragged you out of bed when all you wanted was to disappear into the blankets. She managed to turn the dark cloud that hovered over you into one with a rainbow, helping you appreciate that there is still some light even in bad weather.

Your college years have been full in the way you hoped they would be - studying late into the night, stumbling into parties you swore you wouldn’t go to, making the kind of questionable choices that are excused by your youth and recklessness. 

But one thing you couldn’t do was fall in love.

You started having flings in your second year. Just casual fuck arounds - one-night stands, situationships that never turned into anything real. It was just to get the itch out of your system. A girl has needs and even your broken spirit needed a good fucking every so often - even if it is with questionable men that have so many red flags that you could stitch them together and lure in a bull to the pen. 

Eunseo never questioned it either. “I support women’s rights,” she’d say, raising her glass with a smirk, “but more importantly, I support women’s wrongs.”

She never asked why you never settled down despite clearly being someone who craves love more than lust, she never pried, and you’re thankful for that. She was good like that.

However, even if she didn’t pry, your brain did a good job of keeping your reasoning for abandoning love at the forefront of your mind.

Jaeyun’s name hasn’t passed your lips in 1,460 days. A choice you made the moment you stepped off the bus in Pyeongchang. Yet, despite your best efforts, he never really left you. His name lived in the spaces between your thoughts, in the way every touch from another felt hollow, in the way no words ever settled in your chest the way his did. You learned to ignore it. To push it down. But it never disappeared.

Your heart still beats to the sound of his soul.

Still, you’ve built something for yourself here. You’re in your final year of University and oh so content with at least this aspect of your life. Happy, even. You found your way into film by accident, stumbling into a passion you hadn’t expected but now couldn’t imagine letting go of. An internship at Lift Media loomed on the horizon, the kind of opportunity you wouldn’t have dared to dream of before. For once, things felt like they were falling into place.

And yet, as much as your heart is filling up with other loves, you can’t shake the puppy-eyed boy out. He’s always going to take up space within your chest, always there, always loved by you.

You still thought about him every day. Wondered if he was happy. If he was enjoying Busan. If he had moved on. That last thought is the one you try to avoid, the one that leaves an ache in your chest when it creeps in late at night. You want him to be happy. Of course, you do. But selfishly, you don’t want to know if that happiness is because of someone else.

Someone who isn’t you.

“Helloooo? Y/N? Are you even listening?”

Eunseo waves a hand in front of your face, pulling you back to the present. You blink, realising you’ve been staring out of the café window, watching the way the autumn leaves gather in piles along the pavement, so free but connected. You turn back to her, sheepish.

“Of course,” you say, not very convincingly. “You were saying how much you love me and that we should get married.”

Eunseo scoffs, but her eyes are full of amusement. “Weirdly, you’re close.”

Your brow furrows as you set down your coffee. “Wait, really?” You love Eunseo, you do, but you’re not sure marrying her is on your bucket list. Sharing a bed with her for the rest of your life as she kicks purple bruises onto your skin doesn’t sound so appealing.  

“Well, not us.” She gestures vaguely, fingers splaying in the air like she’s conjuring an image. “Marriage is involved, though.”

Your stomach drops. “Please don’t tell me you’re marrying Serim after, like, three dates.”

Park Serim; strong, devoted, and the only man who has been insane enough to put up with all of Eunseo’s schemes. She likes to vet her men before committing and it is a gruelling process - another reason you don’t want to tie the knot with her. But Serim is up for the challenge it seems, not phased by the silent treatment, her list of pros and cons that she literally sent to him so he could analyse and add on anything he thought she missed…he’s a perfect match for her.

She barks out a laugh, smacking the table. A few heads turn at her sudden outburst, but she doesn’t care. “I like him, but I’m not that insane. He hasn’t even passed the pussy eating test yet,” she smirks, “I’m testing that out next week.” Her pussy eating test, aka, he can make her cum at least two times from his tongue alone. 

You shake your head as you pick up your coffee, taking a long contemplative sip. “So full of romance and wonder, Eunseo.” Your tone is light and carefree as she grunts, knowing you’ll never understand her process of finding a husband.

“Whatever, Y/N,” she leans forward, eyes burning with intent. “It’s my sister getting married.”

You nod, placing your coffee down on the table, remembering her mentioning it in passing. Eunseo doesn’t speak much about her family. Not because she doesn’t want to, but because she knows that it’s a touchy subject for you. You deflect at the mention of family or anything to do with your past, to be honest, so she doesn’t spout too much about the ins and outs of her own.

“She’s a control freak,” Eunseo continues. “Wants everything planned down to the last detail. And someone dropped out, which means there’s a spare seat at the wedding. And guess what? You’re free that weekend.”

You hesitate. You’ve never met her family. Despite her keeping her conversations about family to a minimum, she has invited you to gatherings before out of politeness, but you always declined, not wanting to impose. Or maybe, deep down, you weren’t ready to be surrounded by something that felt too much like home.

Eunseo reads your hesitation immediately, knowing you like her favourite recipe. “Come on, Y/N. Just this once. I checked your schedule and you have nothing on. I even have a dress for you. And you owe me one.”

Your eyes narrow. “For what?”

“Well, not yet,” she admits, grinning. “But I heard the best man is single, older than you and has these ridiculously big eyes that could melt stone. I’m setting you up with him.” Her face is smug and bright as she divulges her plan to you.

“So let me get this straight,” you quirk a brow, “I owe you for something that hasn’t even happened yet?”

“Details, details.” She waves a hand. “Please, Y/N. I want you to meet my family. Think of them as yours, yeah?”

That tugs at your heart a little. Your best friend offering you a place in her family is a privilege you don’t feel worthy of.

“Eunseo-” You’re about to decline, the words on the very tip of your tongue, but she’s already pouting, eyes big and imploring. She knows how to get you. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost before you’ve even begun. “Fine. I’ll come.”

The sun shifts, its light spilling through the window, warming your skin.

“Great!” Eunseo claps, practically bouncing in her seat. “We leave tomorrow.”

Your head snaps up. “Tomorrow?”

“Yep.” She stands, grabbing her bag. “We need to be there early for fittings and all that wedding stuff.”

You groan. “I thought the wedding wasn’t until Saturday?”

“Yeah, but I figured I’d drag you along early. Or, you know, you could drive yourself.” Her grin is wicked and knowing, teasing you.

You deadpan as you stand up to meet her eye level. “Fuck you. You know I can’t drive.”

She laughs, taking your hand. “And I still don’t understand how you’re 23 and can’t even handle a go-kart.”

You roll your eyes but smile. Maybe this will be good for you. Maybe, for once, you can let love surround you without thinking about…

Him.

___________

You fold the last of your clothes with carelessness, stuffing them into your suitcase as if cramming fabric into the confined space might also quiet the noise in your head. It’s been years since you last packed for anything, and as you stand in your small flat, staring down at the open case, it occurs to you how little you’ve really needed to.

Pyeongchang became your sanctuary once you left. The mountains, the crisp air, the rhythm of city life on the outskirts of something wild and untamed. It gave you a semblance of purpose or at least the illusion of one. Between coursework, bakery shifts, and your occasional attempts at being social, you never felt the urge to leave nor have you had the time. Every corner of this place holds something new, something untouched by your past. 

And yet, here you are, packing. Again.

Your fingers brush over the worn handle of your suitcase, the same one you clutched so tightly four years ago when you boarded that bus and never looked back. It’s one of the few relics you’ve kept from that life, the only piece of baggage - literal or otherwise - that made the journey with you. Even now, just the sight of it stirs something uneasy in your stomach. The ghost of who you were then lingers in its scuffed corners and fading stitching, a silent witness to your agony.

Something about packing and the memories of your teenage self resurfacing makes you queasy and regretful that you accepted the invitation from Eunseo.

A wedding. Love. Commitment. Things that once felt sonin reach, but now only seem distant and abstract. Love, as you once knew it, is buried within the past, and the thought of surrounding yourself with it, watching people promise forever, eels like an exercise in masochism.

You experienced a love so potent with Jaeyun that it became part of your DNA, something that rooted itself in your bones and refused to let go, like a ghost haunting the walls of their old house as it tries to find its purpose before crossing over to death. It was unfiltered, all-consuming. It was real. Now, you see couples around you, holding hands in coffee shops, sharing quiet laughter in the bakery queue, and it all feels…less. Their love is not your love, not close. It never will be. You tell yourself it’s unfair to think this way, that you’re projecting a lost love onto theirs, planning the failure of each couple in your head to make you feel better about your own dead relationship, but that doesn’t stop the feeling from creeping in.

The ‘what ifs’ come next, as they always do. What if you had stayed? What if you had gone with him? Would you have a ring on your finger? A life mapped out together? Would you be standing in Eunseo’s sister’s place, preparing for your own wedding instead of just attending one? It’s a dangerous path to wander down, and you force yourself to step away before you drown in it.

You check the clock. 10:23am. That gives you roughly seven minutes until Eunseo arrives.

Your eyes drift across the room, checking for any loose ends before landing on the navy hoodie draped over the back of your chair. CERRITOS, bold and white, emblazoned across the chest. You don’t even remember putting it there - it usually stays tucked away, hidden from sight. Out of sight, out of mind. But of course, it never really is.

This was Jaeyun’s. His favourite. The one he pulled over your head when you were cold, the one he gave you after long nights tangled in his sheets, the one that smelled of him long after he stopped holding you. Eventually, it became yours in a quiet, unspoken exchange. He never asked for it back, only ever taking it to refresh his scent on the fabric before returning it to you, as if making sure his presence lingered even when he wasn’t there. He liked knowing you smelled like him - he told you once, with a grin and a kiss to your shoulder, that it made him feel like a wolf marking his mate.

Now, the fabric has lost its scent, but not its hold over you. You still wear it on the nights you miss him most, wrapping yourself in memories you can’t seem to shed. You tell yourself it’s just a hoodie. Just an object. But it’s not, and it never has been.

Your hands tighten around the fabric, pressing it to your chest for just a moment before you throw it into the suitcase. If this trip is going to be difficult - and you already know it will be - you at least deserve some small comfort.

Then, before your mind can spiral further, a car horn blares outside, the sound lingering just a second too long.

Eunseo.

You snap the suitcase shut, zipping it up with a finality that feels like sealing away something far heavier than clothing. With a deep breath, you grab the handle and step towards the door, forcing your feet to move forward. Whatever awaits you at this wedding, you’ll face it head-on.

Or at least, you’ll try.

_____

The drive to Eunseo’s parents’ house is smooth, the kind of journey that allows your mind to wander without urgency. The road bends gently, framed by towering trees that murmur in the summer breeze, their rustling leaves forming a soundscape of whispers - soft and full of life. You roll down the window, resting your head on your arm, letting the wind tangle through your messy hair. The air is thick with the scent of sun-warmed earth and pine, soothing in a way that makes your chest feel lighter, if only for a moment.

Eunseo is quiet when she drives, her usual stream of chatter absent. It’s one of the rare times she lets silence settle between you without filling it. You appreciate that about her - the way she understands when to pull you into her world of relentless energy and when to let you sit in your own thoughts. She knows you love a quiet drive, taking the time to just be. She hums under her breath to the Noah Kahan album she selected as she steers with one hand, the other drumming lightly against the wheel.

The further you go, the more the city thins out. Towering buildings are replaced with green fields, the occasional farmhouse dotting the landscape. It’s the kind of place that makes you forget about deadlines, unread messages, the gnawing ache of old memories. The sun feels warmer here, sinking golden fingers into your skin. You wonder if it’s always like this or if your nerves are just making you hyper-aware of everything.

By the time Eunseo pulls up to her family home, your breath catches.

House doesn’t feel like the right word. Estate, maybe. Mansion. Something too grand for you to comprehend. The building is decorated in cool ash-coloured stone, its towering windows reflecting the afternoon light. Ivy creeps up the sides in a random sprawl, woven with clusters of pink flowers that look bright and inviting. The driveway is lined with cherry blossom trees, their petals fluttering like confetti as Eunseo’s car disturbs the stillness.

The sheer scale of it is mesmerising. You knew Eunseo came from money - she’s joked about it often enough - but you didn’t realise she was this kind of rich. The kind that makes your worn-down suitcase - and you - feel even smaller against the backdrop of something so opulent.

Perhaps you should have known you were walking into boujee territory when you were passing by houses with more than one car in the driveway. 

She grins at your expression, tapping the steering wheel. “We’re here!” Her voice is alight with excitement, eyes gleaming. You nod, making a silent promise to mirror her enthusiasm, even if a part of you still feels like you don’t belong here, or want to be here; you can’t ruin her time by being a debbie-downer 

You step out, stretching your legs that grew stiff from the drive. The stairs leading up to the entrance are wide, a pristine white door waiting at the top like something out of a film. There’s a moment - just a passing flicker - where the sight of it triggers a memory. Not of this place, but of a conversation.

Those rich bitch houses are so ugly with their grand doors that look like you’re reaching heaven. I want as small a house as possible so I’m always close to you, no matter what room I’m in.

Jaeyun’s voice is so clear in your head it makes you pause mid-step. His bright smile and promise of a future you ripped away from him sit heavy on your heart. But you shake him off quickly, forcing your legs to move, dragging your suitcase up each step while holding your dress bag straight. Halfway up, you curse every rich person’s need to be extra and bigger to flaunt their money because your thighs are already burning.

The door swings open before you reach the top, revealing a broad-shouldered man with a beaming smile. “My baby!” Eunseo’s father’s voice booms, warm and full of unmistakable joy. He pulls her into a hug so tight you wonder if she can breathe.

You miss your father. It’s not a thought you allow yourself to dwell on often, but moments like this make it impossible to ignore. His comforting words, the piggyback rides, the way his oddly spiced cinnamon body wash would cling to his clothes - things you never realised you’d long for until they were no longer within reach.

“This must be Y/N! It only took four years to meet you,” Eunseo’s father laughs, deep and rich, before pulling you into a hug just as tight as the one he gave his daughter. There’s something about the way he embraces you that makes your throat tighten - a quiet kindness, an unspoken welcome. You return the hug with one arm, the other stretched outward to keep your dress from creasing.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honour to be part of your daughter’s big day.” The words are easy, overly polite, but genuine. He steps back, his eyes crinkling with a warmth that makes you feel fuzzy inside. You understand where Eunseo gets her kindness from.

“You’re more than welcome here. Our home is yours.” He says it so definitely that you can’t help but feel for even a second that you belong here. “The party is in a few hours,” he tells you, gesturing towards the house. “The happy couple aren’t here, off running last-minute errands, but you’ll meet them tonight.” Then he turns, pointing up the grand staircase inside. “Eunseo will show you where you’re sleeping. If you need anything, me and the wife will be hovering around.”

She didn’t mention a party.

You barely have time to react before Eunseo grabs your wrist, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re going to love them,” she gushes, dragging you inside. “They’re super nice, especially her man, literally like someone out of a hot cowboy Elsie Silver book - minus the cowboy and more geeky.”

You smile at her description. It’s nice that her sister has found someone with so many green flags. You’re not really one to hang around with good men these days, your rendezvous is strictly for men who don’t expect anything more from you than a quick fuck.

Although, if they’re as good as your best friend makes them out to be, you’re in for one loved-up week…Not the greatest outcome considering you still can’t look at a heart themed anything without bursting into tears at what could have been for you.

Still, you push it down, letting her pull you along and up the mansion’s stairs, her voice spilling over with enthusiasm as she titters about the night ahead.

Despite yourself, you smile. Maybe, just for tonight, you can let yourself exist without the weight of the past pressing down on you.

___

A few hours later, the hum of conversation and clinking flutes drifts up from the party below, a telltale sign that the engagement celebration is on full blast. Laughter rises but up here, in the quiet sanctuary of the bedroom, Eunseo is focused, curling a wispy strand of your hair with precision. The soft scent of heat and hairspray lingers between you.

You glance up at her, taking in how effortlessly beautiful she is. The way her bangs frame her face, how her naturally pouty lips curve into a smirk - she’s flawless in that unbothered way only she can be. You’re jealous.

“If you keep staring, I’ll literally take you on the bed,” she teases, flicking your forehead gently.

You laugh, shoving her shoulder in protest. “You wish.”

Puckering her lips dramatically, she leans in close as if she’s about to kiss you. You play along, tilting your chin up just enough to humour her. Life is easy with Eunseo, like floating down a calm river in a dingy, no effort, just the gentle push of the current guiding you forward. You used to be this way with Jaeyun.

Perhaps it’s the similarities between them that make you gravitate towards the girl so effortlessly. 

“Alright, go get changed. I need to see my masterpiece complete.” She steps back, admiring her handiwork before marching over to grab the dress. Without warning, she thrusts it against your chest, eyes gleaming. “You’re gonna look amazing. That babe of a best man is gonna fall at your feet. Now, go.” She shoos you toward the ensuite with an exaggerated wave of her hand.

As you take the dress from her, a thought creeps into your mind. You hesitate, gripping the fabric a little tighter before asking, “How many people are actually going to be at this party?”

Eunseo turns back to you with an innocent blink, lips pursed as if contemplating how to break something gently. “Oh, you know,” she hums, twisting a curl of her own hair between her fingers, “just a few people.”

You narrow your eyes. “Eunseo.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” She throws up her hands. “A lot of people. Like, a lot a lot. The bride and groom are crazy popular. And I mean, not just with family - we’re talking old classmates, colleagues, some of their industry friends, all of our cousins… It’s basically a mini wedding before the wedding.” She claps her hands together in excitement.

Your stomach tightens. “Eunseo, I thought this was just a small gathering. Like, a family thing.”

“Oops?” She grins, clearly unbothered by the panic creeping into your expression. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun, and a good 80% of these people are only here for the party tonight, not the entire time.” The reassurance is welcomed but lacks the impact you need. If there are a lot of people down there, you need to find the quietest corner and hope the night passes quickly. 

Parties are fine, you like them. It’s the ones where you can’t get wasted and fall over your own feet that are the issue.

“You’ll be the hottest one there, aside from me, obviously,” Eunseo smirks, eyes landing on the bag that contains the mystery dress. You let her pick it because you’re semi-hopeless at picking appropriate clothes for special events. Even in high school, if Yeji wasn’t picking your outfits for occasions, you were not going.

That’s one thing that hasn’t changed.

You groan, pressing your fingers against your temples. “I swear you do this on purpose.”

“Of course I do.” She winks. “Now, get changed before I dress you myself.”

You sigh but comply, stepping inside and locking the door behind you. The mirror greets you, reflecting the version of yourself that Eunseo has carefully crafted tonight.

Never in your life have you looked this beautiful.

For a moment, you just stare, taking it all in. The soft curls, the expertly blended makeup, the way your features seem more refined yet still wholly your own. It’s strange. You feel like you’ve shed something - some old version of yourself left behind to make way for…this.

With careful fingers, you unzip the garment bag. The fabric spills out in a cascade of deep, sultry red. You gasp.

“Um, Eunseo?” you call out hesitantly, holding the dress up against your body. It’s stunning. Silky, form-fitting, allure dripping from the seams - but far too sexy for a family event. “This dress is…”

“Hot,” she finishes for you from the other side of the door. “Now shut up and put it on. My cousins will be wearing something way sluttier, so you’re fine.”

Her nonchalant tone does little to reassure you, but it’s either this or the more conservative dress meant for the actual wedding. So, with a deep breath, you slip it on. The material hugs you in all the right places, cinching at the waist and draping over your hips like liquid. It’s been months, more like years,  since you’ve worn anything this beautiful, since you’ve felt this beautiful.

Your fingers absentmindedly reach for your necklace, the familiar weight of the sun settling against your collarbone. The gold glows softly against the red fabric, a stark reminder of everything you’ve carried with you, even when you tried to leave it behind.

Honestly, you wanted to get rid of the necklace and replace it with something that had far less meaning than the burning orb and etched date attached to it. But you couldn’t. This wasn’t a massive blue diamond that you could through into the ocean, this was much more. This represented love.

When you open the door, Eunseo is waiting, now changed into a pastel blue dress that fits her like a glove. It’s modest in the arms and neckline, but a daring slit runs high up her thigh. Your jaw nearly drops at the sight of her.

She eyes you up and down with an approving nod. “Look at you! A literal goddess.” She takes your hands, giving them a little squeeze. “You ready to upstage my sister at her own engagement party?”

Your stomach flips. “Eunseo…you didn’t pick these outfits just to stand out, did you?”

She scoffs, feigning innocence. “Of course not! We’re just naturally hotter than everyone here - including her.” She grins mischievously before grabbing a shoebox from the bed. Inside is a pair of gold heels - the exact ones you had admired earlier while she was unpacking. She holds them out to you.

“Take these. You can kick them off whenever, but for the grand entrance, you need to be complete.” She waves a hand over you like an artist admiring their finished painting.

You shake your head with a chuckle, but there’s warmth spreading in your chest. Maybe, just for tonight, you can let yourself feel good about being seen.

Putting on the gold heels, you instantly gain four inches, rising to Eunseo’s eye level. You wobble slightly, adjusting to the unfamiliar height, but she steadies you with a firm grip on your arm.

“Ready to rock this bitch?” she asks, flashing you a devilish grin.

You take a deep breath, smoothing down the silky fabric of your dress before giving a resolute nod. Without hesitation, she latches onto your arm and drags you toward the staircase.

The moment you descend, you feel it. A shift in the air. Eyes - far too many of them - turning toward you with quiet intrigue. Conversations falter for the briefest moment, and though it lasts no more than a heartbeat, it’s enough to make your skin prickle. You feel like Hilary Duff when she cascades down the stairs at the Halloween Dance - beautiful and awe-stopping 

Some gazes are appreciative, admiring even, but others linger in a way that makes your stomach turn. The ones that belong to men at least twice your age. The way they lick their lips makes you recoil. You resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest and focus on the buzz surrounding you instead.

God, you could use some Tequila Rose right about now.

It’s a scene straight out of a film - elegant and absurdly extravagant. Waiters weave effortlessly through the room, trays balanced with hors d’oeuvres so delicate they look like they belong in an art exhibit rather than in someone’s mouth. Champagne flutes glimmer under the glow of a massive chandelier, its crystals refracting light like a sky full of stars. Every surface is polished to perfection, from the marble floors beneath your heels to the sleek, gold-trimmed furniture arranged in intimate clusters throughout the space.

You try not to think about how much this all costs. The thought alone makes your bank account whimper in greed...or is it envy? 

“This is insane,” you murmur under your breath, leaning slightly toward Eunseo.

She hums in agreement, though with far less concern . “Yeah, my parents don’t half-arse anything. Wait till you see the wedding.”

You scan the room, taking in the sea of impeccably dressed guests. Men in tailored suits and women draped in silks, their jewellery glinting as they gesture animatedly in conversation. The hum of laughter and clinking glasses creates a steady, lively backdrop.

Your eyes land on an older couple near the grand piano, deep in discussion. The woman wears a string of pearls that likely cost more than your entire tuition, and for a brief moment, you wonder if there’s anyone here generous - or drunk - enough to pay off your student loans.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eunseo says, nudging you playfully. She had a knack for reading your mind and as soon as she sees your eyes bulge out with dollar signs, she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You scoff. “What? One of these rich dudes could be my knight in shining Prada.”

Eunseo barks out a laugh before snatching two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, pressing one into your hand. “If you pull that off, I’ll personally bow at your feet and kindly ask you to get your new money bank to pay off my credit cards.”

Perhaps that’s one reason why you never knew just how wealthy Eunseo is. She never got handouts, everything was in her name which meant everything she bought, everything she owned, was entirely through her own hard work. She could easily ask her father for money -  you can see that quite evidently now as you stand in the grand living room - but she never does.

Grinning, you clink your glass against hers before taking a tentative sip. The bubbles tickle your tongue. Definitely not the cheap kind you’re used to. You don’t know if you can go back to Tesco’s extra dry prosecco.

“Hey, Eunseo?” Your voice is steady, curious. “I just realised…I don’t know Yeoreum’s fiancé’s name.”

She pauses mid-sip of her champagne, then bursts out laughing, smacking your arm lightly. How could she forget to tell you? “Oh, that’s right! It’s Jaeyun.”

Your heart stutters. There are a lot of Jaeyuns in Korea. Jaeyun from TO1 could walk through that door for all you know. The name alone isn’t enough to set you off balance, not yet.

“Jake is what he goes by, though,” she adds, completely unaware that she has just set off a grenade inside you.

Jake.

Your stomach drops, so fast and so violently you feel like you might actually be sick. There might be a hundred Jaeyuns in this country, but how many also go by Jake? The odds feel astronomically slim, but you tell yourself, desperately, that maybe - fucking hopefully - it’s just a really strange coincidence. Maybe it’s some other Jake. Some other Jaeyun.

But then, the voices in the archway grow louder, and you know you’re out of time.

Yeoreum enters first, radiant and poised, her beauty effortlessly eclipsing every photograph Eunseo had shown you. And then behind her.. he steps in. Jaeyun.

Your Jaeyun.

The air leaves your lungs. Static floods your ears, drowning out the noise of distant conversation and glee. He’s greeting guests, shaking hands, smiling that easy, beautiful smile and all you can do is stand there as panic claws up your throat, like a cat clinging on to a curtain for dear life. Each step he takes towards you feels like a countdown to something catastrophic.

If your body would listen to you, you would be running, bolting out of the nearest exit, disappearing before he could see you. But you can’t move. You can’t breathe. You can only watch, helpless, as he draws closer.

He looks different, yet exactly the same somehow. Sharper, his boyish softness long gone. His face has hardened in the way time does to people, more defined now, but those eyes, fuck, they haven’t changed at all. He’s wearing a black suit, tailored to perfection, he’s wearing no shirt under his low-cut v-neck blazer, exposing tanned skin and the chain resting against his collarbone - the same chain you’ve had dangling in your face as he made love to you. His hair is slicked back, though a few strands have rebelliously fallen forward, framing his face in the way they haven’t before

He looks expensive. He looks effortless.

He looks like home.

Eunseo says something to you, her voice getting lost to the sound of your thumping heart. Because now, Jaeyun’s gaze lands on you, and in an instant, everything shifts.

His body stills. His expression freezes, and just for a second a flicker of recognition, disbelief, and unreadable awe falls over his features. He turns toward you instinctively, as if the force pulling you two together still exists, still lingers after all this time. And that realisation terrifies you.

“Eunseo!” Yeoreum’s voice breaks through the tension, bright and oblivious to the cloud of thick anguish as she rushes forward, throwing her arms around her sister. “Oh my god, I missed you!”

Eunseo grins, squeezing her back. “Missed you too, brat.”

“Jakey, come here,” Yeoreum calls, beckoning Jaeyun closer. He moves without breaking eye contact with you, his steps measured, cautious, like he’s approaching something fragile. He doesn’t quite believe you’re real, you can tell it in the way his eyes are screaming in confusion and adoration, like you’re some sick pre-wedding prank.

“You must be Y/N,” Yeoreum says, beaming at you. “Eunseo talks about you all the time!”

She is stunning. Warm and kind in a way that feels effortless, her presence somehow golden, just like her sister. She is perfect. 

Perfect for him.

The realisation claws at your insides, and you feel like you might actually fall apart at any moment.

Still, you plaster on a smile, pushing every emotion deep, deep down. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, voice just barely holding steady. You hug her lightly, stealing one last glance at Jaeyun while she can’t see you. His expression is unreadable, his lips parted slightly like he wants to say something, but no words come out. His eyes…they are still the same. Still looking at you like you are everything.

You force yourself to turn back to Yeoreum, ignoring the burning in your throat. “Congratulations,” you say quickly, like ripping off a plaster, your skin tearing as the word leaves your lips. How can you be happy when she’s the one holding the love of your life’s heart in their hands.

“Aw, thank you!” she smiles so appreciatively, and you want to scream.

It’s too much. All of it. The weight of the past, the suffocating closeness of him, the way your body still reacts to him like no time has passed at all. It’s too much.

“Excuse me,” you blurt, already stepping back. “I’m just going to the restroom, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t wait for a response. You don’t care if anyone calls after you. You just turn and leave, weaving through the crowd, heart pounding in your ears. Each breath feels too shallow, your chest tightening as you break into a near-run up the stairs.

The moment you reach the guest room, you push the door open and slip inside, shutting it quickly behind you. And then finally, you allow yourself to exhale. A shuddering, ragged breath as you clutch your chest, fingers trembling.

How? How out of every man in this world, out of every best friend’s sister’s fiancé, did it have to be him?

You stand in the middle of the room, eyes squeezed shut as you replay the last five minutes over and over again, like a nightmare on a continuous loop. The sound of his voice, the way he looked at you, the way your body responded before your mind could catch up.

The past was supposed to stay buried. But now, it’s here. It’s him. And there is nowhere left to run.

“Y/N?”

The Australian accent cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. You turn slowly because moving too fast might shatter you, seeing him too quickly might make your bones dissolve and heart shatter all over again. And then there he is. 

Jaeyun. The boy you once knew, now a man, standing mere inches away. His eyes lock onto yours, widening in disbelief, and before you can react, his hands are on your face, fingers trembling as they cradle your cheeks, his palms pulsing with fear and excitement, joy and apprehension. His body presses against yours, so close you can feel the warmth of him, the steady, aching pulse of a heart that once beat only for you.

“Baby,” he breathes, the word breaking apart in the space between you. His eyes scan your face like he’s trying to commit you to memory, to prove to himself that you’re not a cruel hallucination. “Where did you go?”

The anguish in his voice nearly undoes you. It’s raw, unguarded, desperate. That way this is his first question, no anger or disdain towards you in the slightest - even if you did deserve it. No. It’s pure love still laced in every syllable. Somehow, you wonder if it would be easier if he just blew up, told you to fuck off and never come back because right now, the way he’s drinking you in like you’re his entire world still, makes everything much harder.

Instinctively, your hands fly up, gripping his wrists as you squeeze your eyes shut. The weight of the years crashes over you, the memories pressing into every crevice of your being. You have missed his touch. Although his hands are a little rougher, they still hold the gentle fondness they used to.

“Princess,” he whispers out the pet name so easily, like not a moment has passed. His forehead presses against yours, his breath unsteady as he finds words to plead. “Please talk to me.”

Jaeyun’s hands drift from your face, tracing down your shoulders, his touch hesitant, reverent yet firm like he’s afraid you might disappear again. His eyes flicker over your features, drinking in the changes, the subtle marks of time. You are older, wiser, perhaps a little more guarded, but you are still you. Still the girl he once loved. The girl he still-

His voice cracks. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, fighting to steady your breath. And then, finally, you speak, holding in a gigantic sob. “You’re...engaged.”

Probably not the first thing he was expecting you to say after four years.

The words land between you like a grenade, blowing up the fairytale and bringing him back to reality. His hands drop from your skin, leaving behind a coldness that seeps into your bones. He stares at you, mouth parted slightly, struggling to process the weight of your statement. 

He can’t deny it or pretend it’s not happening. He is marrying someone. Someone who isn’t you. The last time he looked into your eyes, felt you under his fingertips, he had promised you were the girl he would get on one knee for - he even gave you a ring as a placeholder for when the day would come. 

“She seems nice,” you add, voice barely above a whisper as you try and act put together.

His jaw tightens. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend.” His voice is quiet, but there’s a storm of anguish brewing beneath the surface. “Don’t act like this doesn’t hurt you too. Don’t make it seem like I’m the only one breaking right now.”

Your breath catches. He’s so raw with his feelings and you can still read every single one of them. He’s upset, delirious, confused, and still stricken with love. That’s why it hurts to watch you pretend that this isn’t affecting you too. In fact, this should be affecting you more yet he’s the one with trembling hands and a bruised heart.

Jaeyun exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before gesturing helplessly toward you. “I looked for you everywhere,” he says, his voice raw. “I spent months trying to find you.”

You knew that already. Of course, you did. Deep down you would have guessed that his threat to search over the country for you was more than a false promise. But for months? You thought maybe a few weeks, a couple of sleepless nights before he would have left for Busan and moved on. But months?

His voice wavers. “What did I do?”

Your heart clenches. “Nothing.” It’s the first question you truly answer and it only leads to more queries in his fragile heart.

Jaeyun shakes his head as he refuses to accept the answer. “You don’t just abandon people you love, Y/N. Not like that. Not us.” He hesitates, his eyes searching yours. “There had to be something I did to make you fall out of-”

“Jake!”

The voice cuts through the moment like a knife though distant in the hallway. You flinch, your head bowing instinctively as your heart pounds against your ribs.

Jaeyun turns slightly, his body still half-angled toward you as if reluctant to pull away completely. His eyes beg you for something - an answer, an excuse, anything. But you have nothing left to give him.

“Y/N, please,” Jaeyun wants to hold you, kiss you, to have you wrapped up in his embrace the way you should be. He needs to understand what happened but he can’t. Not right now. Not at his fucking engagement party. “Don’t leave me again, baby, please.” His voice is quiet, despair etched within his tone as he cuts you off. He cannot lose you again, not without some semblance of an answer.

His gaze flickers downward, landing on the delicate gold chain around your neck. His chain. The one he gave you years ago, the one you never stopped wearing. He inhales sharply, his eyes tracing the familiar shape of the pendant. There is still some hope within him, the gleam of the necklace in the light mirroring his faith that you still love him somehow. When he looks back up at you, he looks undone but resolute.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs as though it’s a secret just for you, scared that the girl he’s promised his name to downstairs might overhear. “Just like always.”

“Jake, your dad’s about to give a speech-”

Heeseung’s voice carries through the room but Jaeyun doesn’t move. Neither do you. 

Stepping inside, Heeseung’s footsteps falter as his eyes land on you. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to something darker. For years, Heeseung tried to let go of his anger, convinced himself that seeing Jaeyun happy with Yeoreum was enough to forgive the past. But now, the resentment simmers beneath his skin, clawing its way back up as he stares at you. The audacity of you.

“Y/N?” His tone is cutthroat, his disbelief barely contained. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

You don’t look at him. You don’t dare.

“You should go,” you murmur, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Jaeyun pleads, eyes blown out with panic. “Don’t walk away again…”

You shut your eyes. You can’t do this. Not now. Not here.

Brushing past him and Heeseung, you make your way to the door, ignoring the way Jaeyun’s fingers graze your wrist in a desperate attempt to hold onto you. You don’t stop. You don’t look back.

The moment you step out into the hallway, the world feels unbearably loud. His family is here. His friends. People from a past you wanted to erase. Your vision blurs, the weight of it all pressing down on you as you rush down the stairs, each step echoing in your ears.

You aren’t paying attention when you collide with someone at the base of the staircase, the impact jolting you back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, bowing quickly, hands trembling at your sides.

“Y/N?”

This time, it’s Mr. Sim’s voice that grabs your attention. It quivers with astonishment, his eyes widening as they land on you. “What are you doing here?” He steps closer, his head tilting slightly to level with yours as if trying to confirm that you are, in fact, real, much like Jaeyun had just done. “What-” His voice falters, words escaping him as he looks at the girl he once believed would marry his son.

You swallow thickly, forcing yourself to bow respectfully. “Mr. Sim, it’s nice to see you again.” You speak evenly, though you avoid his eyes. “I’m sure you’re very proud of Jaeyun.”

“Sweetheart, we thought something awful had happened to you.” The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, forcing you to meet his gaze. Heartache carves deep lines into his features, the weight of unspoken words pressing between you. “Your mum and dad haven’t stopped worrying about you.”

Those words almost cause you to break, hearing about the pain you’ve put your parents through, but luckily a gentle hand touches your shoulder, grounding you. Eunseo - your saving grace.

“Girl, there you are! You took one long bathroom break.” She laughs, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling inside you. She bows politely to Mr. Sim. “Ready for your speech, Sir?”

Mr. Sim studies you a moment longer before returning Eunseo’s bow. “I’ve been preparing this speech for years,” he says with a tight-lipped smile, “only needed a few minor tweaks.”

His eyes flicker over you one last time before he heads down the stairs. You know. You know exactly what he meant - he had once imagined giving this speech at your engagement party, the one that everyone who knew you and Jaeyun had already planned - he didn’t think someone else would be in your place. 

Eunseo’s grip tightens on your hand, guiding you toward the dining hall, where the room is fully alive, unaware of the inner turmoil you’re facing. Your chest tightens as Jaeyun strolls in behind Heeseung, hands casually tucked in his pockets - until he sees her. His future wife - Yeoreum. A soft smile graces his lips as he pulls her into his side. The action is effortless, instinctive.

And it shatters you.

It should be you.

You should be marrying him, taking his second name, waking up to him every morning for the rest of your life. Your body quakes with a need to be close to him, that quick taste of his touch on your skin clearly not enough to curb your appetite for his love.

A fork clinks against a wine glass, drawing everyone’s attention. Mr. Sim clears his throat, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’ll keep this short, considering I’m sure you’re all sick of us talking - especially with a free bar in the room.” Laughter erupts, and you watch as Yeoreum beams up at Jaeyun.

It’s unbearable.

“My son,” Mr. Sim continues, “has always been someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, who gives one hundred percent of himself to the person he loves.” His eyes find yours, and you stop breathing. “Jaeyun deserves someone who loves him unconditionally, without prejudice, without pride, and always with his best interest in mind. And I believe he’s found that.”

The walls close in. Your vision blurs, and suddenly, the air is too thick, the weight of the past and present crushing you all at once.

You bolt.

Bursting through the entrance of the house, you gasp for air, chest rising and falling in erratic movements. Your fingers claw at your collarbone as if that alone will release the unbearable pressure, but nothing helps. The panic sets in quickly and you find yourself falling onto the steps, the cold stone under you doing little to wake you from this nightmare.

This cannot be happening. It can’t be. You’re sick, you’re hurt…and it’s all your fucking fault.

A hand touches your shoulder, warm and steady. Words reach your ears, muffled by the chaos in your head. You don’t understand them at first, but then the voice becomes clearer.

“Breathe for me, Y/N. He-He-Hoo, or whatever.”

You blink, dazed, as you look up to find Heeseung crouched in front of you. His Bambi-like eyes soften as he rubs soothing circles into your arms. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Just keep breathing.” The world slowly steadies and your vision clears enough to focus on him. “Keep doing that for me, okay?”

Tears well in your eyes, the lingering pressure of it all threatening to drown you. Heeseung notices. He always does somehow. “Hey, look at me, Y/N. Tell me about that band you used to love back in the day.” His voice is gentle, coaxing you away from the edge - it’s a contrast to how he acted a mere few minutes ago in the room. “The one Jaeyun was always jealous of because you had that rapper as your lock screen?”

A small, watery laugh escapes you. “Monsta X?”

His lips twitch into a grin. “Yeah, them. They still together?”

You nod, sniffing as you wipe at your face. “Yeah, some are still in the military though.” Your voice is quieter now, calmer as you focus on something other than the hell surrounding you. 

“Sucks, doesn’t it? I felt the same about ONF.” He chuckles, and somehow, you do too - though it’s accompanied by a sharp, aching sob.

“I didn’t mean to come here, Hee,” you confess, voice cracking. “Her sister is my best friend.”

His expression shifts, a flicker of understanding crossing his face before he removes his jacket, placing it over your shivering shoulders. “Y/N,” he sighs, knowing that his next words will tear you open and leave you bleeding on the cobbles, “you can’t be here. He finally moved on.” His voice is heavy with meaning, with quiet pleading. As much as he is angry at you, he still harbours a fondness for you from all those years ago. 

“He’s happy.”

A lump forms in your throat because every piece of your heart has just fallen from you, mushed together, and formed a suffocating clog that you can’t dislodge. So instead of words, you nod and pretend to accept it. What else can you do? You know he’s right, Jaeyun is happy, if he wasn’t happy, he wouldn’t be set to marry Yeoreum on Saturday. He moved on.

“Heeseung?”

Jaeyun’s voice strikes you like lightning. Your body tenses, the warmth of Heeseung’s jacket no longer providing a comforting warmth as chills creep up your spine.

“Can I talk to her?”

Heeseung sighs, standing to face his best friend. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, man.”

They speak like you’re not even here, like this doesn’t involve you at all. But you can’t bring yourself to interrupt. The tension thickens between them, and for a moment, you think Jaeyun might argue. He’s always been stubborn when it comes to you.

But tonight, at least, he listens. 

His gaze lingers on you - just for a second - before he turns back inside. You watch as he disappears into the crowd, as if this moment between you had never happened at all. And it kills you.

Because for the first time in four years, you saw the love still lingering in his eyes.

And for the first time in four years, you knew it didn’t belong to you anymore.

The party continues without you. The laughter, the speeches, the celebration - it all blurs into background noise as you make your way to the guest bedroom, brushing off questions with a simple, “I’m just tired from travelling.”

But the truth is, the real exhaustion isn’t from the journey.

It’s from loving him.

And knowing you can never have him back.

________

The house is silent now. That heavy silence that comes after a long night of music, laughter, and regret. You wake up abruptly, your throat gasping for a drink and your lips dry because even in sleep, your body has been fighting against itself. You can’t remember your dream - or nightmare - but your body feels heavy enough for you to work out that it involved a certain someone.

For a moment, you think the past couple of hours have been a delusion, you forget where you are as you glance around the spacious room. The unfamiliar plushness of the mattress beneath you, the gentle sway of the curtains in the night breeze, the faint scent of Eunseo’s lingering perfume in the air - it takes a second too long to piece it together. The guest room. The party. Him.

It wasn’t just a dream, unfortunately. 

A dull ache pulses behind your ribcage, a reminder of the past few hours, of the words left unspoken and the memories that had clawed their way back to the surface. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, but it’s useless. Heeseung’s voice echoes, Jaeyun’s eyes blaze into yours - the weight of it all clings to you like damp clothes.

You sigh, shifting onto your side, trying to force yourself back into sleep but the dryness in your throat is unbearable now, no amount of conjured-up saliva doing the the trick. You need water…and a gun at this point.

Slipping out of bed, your feet meet the cool hardwood, a biting contrast to the warmth of the thick duvet. The house feels different now - no longer alive with conversation and celebration, but resting, like a small village unfearing of a giant. The floorboards don’t creak under your careful steps, but the occasional rustle of your own movements sounds far too loud. Everything sounds louder when it’s quiet.

The hallway is dimly lit by the moon, the only illumination coming from the large windows at the end of the corridor. Shadows stretch long across the walls, elongating the picture frames that hold memories of a family that isn’t yours. You see Yeoreum, Eusneo, and their parents in different life scenarios - ones you can’t relate back to your own family. They’re so far removed from you in every way. 

As you pass by the slightly ajar door of the bedroom, you hesitate. For no real reason, no real thought, just a flicker of something deep in your chest. You know this is Jaeyun and Yeoreum’s room, you heard them retreat into it after a long night of smiles and congratulations. 

You move past it quickly, refusing to let your brain make the decision to barge in and confess your love for the engaged boy and kidnap him back to your boring, mundane life. Honestly, you didn’t think you had a simpleton life but after speaking with the Son family and seeing the extravagant guests tell their stories about weekends to the Maldives and owning football clubs, you realise very quickly that you’re just…normal.

Maybe that’s why fate put Jaeyun into Yeoreum’s arms. Because she is far from normal.

The stairs are bare now as you take them slowly, gripping the polished wooden bannister to alleviate some of the pressure from your feet. Each step is measured to not cause loud creeks. The house is old, and though elegant, it has its age showcased in the wood.

When you reach the bottom, the remnants of the night come into full view. Empty wine glasses left abandoned on tables, a few smudged lipstick stains marking their rims. The long banquet table by the staircase is littered with stray napkins and a couple of shattered glasses, carefully lined up as if waiting to be dealt with in the morning.

It must have been a wonderful night for them. And if things were different, you might have enjoyed it too.

Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric of your sleeve as your eyes drift toward the kitchen. A leak of light bleeds from the space, a soft glow pooling onto the fancy marble floors. Probably an under-cabinet light left on, a small remaining spark of the party’s electricity. You step forward, your feet scuffing lightly against the cold tiles, but the moment you enter the threshold, you stop short.

A broad back stands in front of the sink, shoulders slightly hunched, head tilted downward. The navy and yellow plaid pyjama bottoms he’s wearing are loose around his hips, contrasting the casual black T-shirt that clings to his form. They don’t match - not in style, not in intent - just something he must’ve grabbed without thinking before bed.

A creak sounds beneath you, alerting them to your presence. The figure stiffens before slowly turning around.

Jaeyun.

His face is softened by the haze of sleep, one eye still half-shut, the other squinting slightly as if trying to determine whether you’re real or just some cruel trick of his half-awake mind. His dark hair is tousled, flattened in places but still holding onto the remnants of styling wax from earlier. There’s something achingly familiar about him like this - undone, caught in a moment where he’s just Jaeyun. Just yours.

Except, he isn’t.

The air shifts between you, thick with words neither of you can say. His gaze never wavers, locked onto you with an intensity that tightens your chest.

“Hi,” you whisper, breaking the stillness as you step past him toward the fridge. 

It’s safer this way. To act like this is nothing. Like his presence doesn’t send electricity skittering all over your body. Like Heeseung wasn’t right when he warned you that this conversation - any conversation - was a bad idea. Because Jaeyun was never the kind to yell, never the kind to explode in anger. That wasn’t his way.

No. His love was always the dangerous part.

“It’s late,” he murmurs still hoarse with sleep. It reminds you of early morning rises for school where he kept you in his arms for just ‘5 more minutes’. 

“Or early.” You shrug, focusing on pouring yourself a glass of filtered water. “I guess it depends on whether you went to sleep or not.”

Your attempt at small talk feels flimsy and hollow, but it’s all you have. Anything else would break the fragile thread keeping you tethered to reason. You know it will be far too easy to just fall back into his arms. You saw how quickly he went to being your teenage love in that room.

When he held your face in your hands, he looked like he would still give you the entire world, still move mountains to make everything simple for you, and still love you despite your betrayal. It’s better to just…pretend.

Jaeyun watches you, unmoving as he memorises the way your fingers curl around the glass, the way the light catches on your cheekbone, the way your shoulders rise and fall with the shallow gulps.

For him, this moment feels unreal. You - standing here in this kitchen, looking like you belong, like no time has passed, like his world hadn’t crumbled all those years ago. It’s a cruel illusion, a cosmic joke. Because as much as you haunt him, he has never felt more at home than he does right now.

Just you. Just here.

“When did you get engaged?”

The question lands between you like a strike to his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. It forces him back into reality. 

With his head hanging low, Jaeyun traces the rim of his coffee mug with his middle finger, the slow, absent-minded motion showing his hesitation. He exhales sharply, the weight of his own words is too heavy to bear.

“A few months ago.” His voice is quiet, not wanting to admit his new relationship out loud. 

He feels like he’s cheating on you. When you left, he didn’t get closure. All he got was a ripped-open heart and no materials to heal it, wounds left open for the world to hack away at. When he started dating Yeoreum, she patched some of those holes but just your presence in this house has opened it all back up again.

His heart bleeding for you.

You nod, lips pressing together as you grip the cool glass of water in your hands. There’s a tremor in your fingers, but you ignore it. You have no right to feel this way, no right to let your heart ache at the revelation. He’s engaged. You knew this. And yet, hearing him say it makes it all the more real. 

Jaeyun shifts slightly in his seat, his knuckles tightening around the ceramic mug before he exhales again. “What about you?” He hesitates, scared of the answer. “You seeing anyone?”

“No.”

It’s sharp, clipped, too direct to be casual. You don’t want to elaborate, don’t want to give away the truth - that there hasn’t been anyone, that no one else has ever felt right. That even after four years, even after all this time, he is still the measure against which all others have failed.

Jaeyun sucks in a breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he wants to say something. Tell you he’s relieved? That it makes him happy you’re not with someone. That’s too cruel considering he’s the one promised to another. 

In his hesitation, you find your own voice instead. “Eunseo…she’s my best friend,” you offer, the words tumbling out like an explanation, almost an apology. “I didn’t know it was you getting married to Yeoreum. I promise. I’m not…I don’t want…”

You will him to look at you, to see the sincerity in your eyes as your words fail you. But he doesn’t. He just nods, slow and mechanical. 

“I’ll make up an excuse to get out of here before the wedding.”

At that, his fingers still. The room, once thick with words made of small talk and tip-toeing around the main issue, suddenly feels suffocating. And then, his voice sparks up, soft but laced with something raw, something close to heartbreak.

“Why did you leave, Y/N?”

The question freezes you in place.

“Tell me why,” he continues, breaking at the edges. “Because for four fucking years, I still haven’t been able to figure it out.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. You don’t even know where to begin. How do you begin? You couldn’t tell him when you needed to most, so how could you now? 

Instead, you bite down on your bottom lip, forcing yourself to steady the tremble in your breath. Suddenly, the thought of him looking at you is unbearable. But of course, now - now of all times - his eyes are locked onto you, unwavering.

“You owe me that much.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the counter as you grip it, focusing on the feel of it as your mind twists and turns. The glass of water is forgotten as you force yourself to speak.

“I…” The word barely makes it out, caught in the tightness of your throat. “I just left.”

“Bullshit, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s voice is sharper now, frustration creeping in. He shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he leans forward. “You don’t just leave. You don’t just disappear without a word, without a fucking explanation to the people you love.” His hands press against the counter, knuckles paling as they mirror your terrified ones. “I waited. I called, I texted - I even went searching. I thought something happened to you at first.”

His voice dips lower, quieter, but it doesn’t soften the way it cuts through you. “I thought you were hurt. I thought you were dead because that was the only way my mind could comprehend you leaving me. Leaving us”

Your breath catches.

“Then your mum showed me that letter and I…I still can’t wrap my head around it Y/N. We were so fucking happy. Then poof! You’re gone without another word. I have lived four years of my life worrying about you, wishing that you would call. I haven’t even changed my number just in case you finally decided to reach out and we could be us again.”

The hurt in his words fill you with dread. You hadn’t thought about how it must have taken it’s toll at first, but you didn’t really think about how it would still effect him, not in the way he must have lived through it. The sleepless nights. The unanswered questions. The fear.

You feel like a fucking idiot. A selfish one at that. 

 “I didn’t get into any colleges that I applied for. None near Busan.” Saying it to him, admitting it after all this time feels…less significant than it did when you were eighteen. 

Jaeyun’s brows knit together, confusion crossing his face. “What do you mean? I thought you only applied to schools near Apollo. We had planned-”

“My grades weren’t good enough to get into any colleges in Busan.” There’s venom in your tone, but it isn’t directed at him - it’s at yourself.

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “If I had told you I wasn’t going with you, I was scared you’d give up your dream school. That you’d just - fuck it all off to be with me.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And you would have, Jaeyun. You would have thrown everything away if I asked. I couldn’t do that to you. I would’ve lived with the guilt every day, watching you settle for something less than what you deserved. I loved you, Jaeyun - I couldn’t do that to you.”

Jaeyun flinches at the past tense in your confession. 

But he doesn’t linger on it. Instead, he rewinds, his mind struggling to make sense of it all. “So you left our relationship because…it would be long distance?”

You swallow hard. “Jaeyun, it wasn’t just that. I thought about it, I did. But I knew you would grow at college without me. And I kept thinking about what you said…”

His expression shifts slightly, confusion washing over his features. “What I said?”

You nod, blinking against the stinging in your eyes. “About how people grow apart when they’re in different places. How they slowly break away from each other because they become different people.” You laugh, but it’s hollow, tinged with pain. “You said ‘I can’t do long distance’ and it got in my head. I couldn’t bear to slowly lose you. So I-”

“So you thought leaving me without a word was the right way to go?” His voice cracks and the hurt is so evident; the way his eyes are shaking, his voicebox now with a slight trill, the ragged breath escaping from his chest.

Jaeyun stands up, pushing his chair back with a quiet scrape that sounds like a foghorn in the dead night. He crosses the small space between you, hesitant yet resolute. His hands flex at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you, to touch you. He made that mistake earlier, your soft skin leaving a lasting impression on the palms of his hands and tips of his fingers.

God, he missed how you feel.

“Y/N,” his voice is lower now, pushing his urges down. “We could have worked it out. We would have found a way.”

His hand moves before he can stop it, despite the screaming in his head to tell him to back off. His fingers brush against your cheek -  reverent, afraid you’ll recoil. But you don’t pull away and his heart skips. A single tear slips down your cheek, and his thumb twitches, resisting the urge to wipe it away, the act feeling too intimate. 

Shaking your head, you finally look up at him, eyes glazed in regret. “I was stupid,” you admit in a whisper. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. You already had so much going on - school, work, your whole future ahead of you.”

Jaeyun says nothing, just watches you with that same tragic expression.

You inhale shakily, willing your heart to stop pounding. “But look at you,” you say, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You went to college. You grew up. You moved on. Look at what you have.” Your hands gesture weakly upstairs, to where Yeoreum sleeps peacefully, unaware of the storm brewing in the kitchen below.

Jaeyun doesn’t look toward where his bride-to-be sleeps.

He just looks at you. Always at you.

“We could have had this, Y/N.” His voice is meek but the meaning behind his words is heavy. “You could be the one I’m marrying - if you just let me take care of you like a partner is supposed to. If you trusted me enough.”

Your stomach knots, your fingers curling into your palms painfully. “I did trust you, Jaeyun.”

“Not enough.” Jaeyun exhales, frustration bleeding into his words. “Not enough to tell me what was going on when I gave you that ring.”

You look away because you know he’s right. You hate that he’s right. That night when he gave you that ring, that is when you should have confessed your plans and worries. It was cruel of you to promise him a happily ever after and then ditch him the next morning.

That is something you will never forgive yourself for.

“Y/N,” He huffs out loudly and drags a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. “That should have been your opening to talk to me about all this. I love you so much - I would have made long distance work.” His voice is edged with desperation, his dark eyes searching yours in the dim kitchen, waiting for something. Maybe a sign that you regret it, maybe a sign that you still love him the way he so clearly still loves you. “When I gave you that ring and made that promise to be yours forever, I wasn’t fucking around, okay? I meant it.”

You don’t realise you’re shaking your head until he lets out a dry laugh, reaching for your hands.

His fingers slide over your skin, warm and familiar, and you hate how easily you let him hold you. Hate how your body reacts to him before your mind can protest. This is a man who is getting married and yet your body thinks he still belongs to you.

“Baby,” he murmurs, voice softer now, raw. “I love you.”

Your breath stutters. Each time he says he loves you it’s in the now, not the past. Your thoughts twist and turn, reading between every line. It’s obvious his feelings are heightened with the shock of you, that’s why he’s acting this way…not because he actually means it.

Right?

“Jaeyun…” you whisper, but there’s nothing else you can say.

The kitchen hums with an unbearable silence, save for the soft buzzing of the refrigerator and the sound of your own pulse roaring in your ears. Jaeyun notices the way your gaze flickers down to his lips, sees the way your breath shudders as he licks them wet.

He leans in, just enough that his breath fans against yours.

If he kisses you, if you let him - there will be no going back. You’ll melt into him, you mere ice and him the burning sunlight. 

His forehead almost brushes yours, your hands still locked together, his fingers tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. He doesn’t want you to leave him. Not again.

Your heart lurches. This is wrong. You know it is. Yet, that gravitational pull brings your lips impossibly close to his.

And then - footsteps. Loud and unexpected, echoing into the suffocating quiet.

Your body reacts before your mind catches up. You push Jaeyun away, stumbling back a step just as another presence enters the kitchen.

Jaeyun barely moves. Even with the interruption, his gaze doesn’t leave yours. Your eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill, and his lips part like he wants to say something - to call you back to him, to fix this. 

But he doesn’t get the chance.

“Baby,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear.

You shake your head, barely able to breathe. Without another word, you turn on your heel, shouldering past him and heading back to the guest room.

“Y/N?” His tone is defeated, lacking hope.

Your feet falter for the briefest moment, but you don’t turn around. You’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to Jaeyun - you can’t make this one.

Jaeyun begins to move, following you, reckless abandonment overtaking his better judgment, but an arm shoots out, gripping his shoulder and halting him in place.

Jaeyun looks up, breathless, still reeling from everything that just happened.

Heeseung, his best friend, stands there with an expression that immediately sends a wave of nausea through Jaeyun’s stomach. Heeseung’s grip is firm. Unrelenting. He didn’t need to be present for the conversation to know what transpired. He can feel the electric charge that still lingers in the room. He can see the heartbreaking gaze in his friend’s iris’. He can feel love bouncing off the tiles.

“Jake,” he murmurs, warning him. “Don’t.”

“Heeseung-”

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head, his hand tightening briefly before he lets go. “Not tonight.”

Jaeyun’s jaw clenches. “You don’t get it.”

Heeseung’s eyes flicker toward the doorway where you just disappeared, then back to Jaeyun, something knowing and sad in them.

“I do,” he says. “That’s the problem.”

Heeseung knows better than anyone the connection you both have. It’s all consuming and the kind people go to war for. That kind of love is dangerous, especially in this environment.

Jaeyun sucks in a breath, his fingers tugging at his already-messy hair. His body is still warm from where you touched him, from where he held you, and he hates how much he still feels you even when you’re no longer in the room.

Heeseung watches him carefully before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face.

“She’s here because of Eunseo,” Heeseung says. “Not you. Not…this.” He gestures vaguely between Jaeyun and the empty space where you stood just moments ago. “She’s not part of your life anymore, Jake. She hasn’t been for a long time.”

Jaeyun looks away, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You think I don’t know that?”

Heeseung doesn’t answer.

For a long moment, neither of them say anything. The moment envelopes them thick in the air. How the fuck did all of you end up in this situation? 

Then, Heeseung sighs again, softer this time. “Come on,” he says, voice gentler. “You should get some sleep. Back to your fiance.” His eyes are stern albeit understanding.

Jaeyun lets out a humourless chuckle at the not-so-subtle reminder. “Yeah. Sure.”

Despite his need to see you, to keep talking this out with you - to kiss you - he retreats, ready to fall back into bed. But sleep is the last thing he’s going to get tonight.

---

taglist: @yzzyhee @dollyyun @sunpov @dreamy-carat

@ioveseong @katarinamae @viagumi @jakeswifez

@shuichi-sama @m1kkso @no1likeneo @pshfan0812

@fancypeacepersona @hoonieyun @jaepen @lovingvoidgoatee

@parksunghoonsgf @capri-cuntz @yvnempire @mei3425

@enhastolemyheart @ikeulove @riribelle @nshmrarki

@firstclassjaylee @ikeuwoniee @ang0308 @jaykesgirl @addictedtohobi

@jayeoniee @jakessrealwife @zyvlxqht

[cxffecoupx]

our little thing

chwe hansol + bickering over which christmas movie is superior wc: 672 warnings: vernon being a cutie, gets a little emotional at the end (i think) author's note: todays exam was shit. this was made in a haste. please bear with me (me for the 23456th time). but i kinda like it a little. also basically i've tweaked the prompt a little i guess. but this was the general idea. hope you like it <33 winter wonderland masterlist

"sol, stop sulking; it's been more than an hour now!"

hansol just huffs once more before crossing his arms across his chest and looking away. you walk over to him to sit beside him.

"it was just a silly debate, non. i didn't even mean it that seriously."

"silly?! you mean to tell me, that movies are silly?!" he mocks a hurt expression before pressing his palm to his chest to drive his point home. you can only roll your eyes at this drama queen of a boyfriend.

two hours ago, vernon posed a question that he explained was 'in the spirit of the holidays'.

"what's your favourite christmas movie?" he asked while you were looking at decoration ideas through pinterest for seungcheol's christmas bash.

you actually had to judge him for that. for asking you that question, when he very well knew the fact that you were: 1) not a movie person, and 2) not a holiday person (two things that emotionally hurts vernon every time you express it, he claims).

so without much thought, you say what could have been the worst answer anyone could ever give to a movie person who likes the holidays:

"i dont know; i never really cared."

vernon swears he heard something break into a million pieces at that moment. if he were half as dramatic as his best friend seungkwan was, he'd have faked a faint and fell to the floor with his hand to the forehead (you say this in detail because this has happened before - when you answered the same way when he asked what your favourite christmas song was).

you thank whoever is up there that your boyfriend is nonchalant.

but this answer was enough for your stoic boyfriend to pout (a pout!! that you has to resist kissing), and move to the other end of the couch, far away from you, with the same worked up expression as right now.

for a whole two hours, he stayed huffing and puffing across from you.

you try to get him to look at you, but when that doesn't work, you climb onto his lap and hold his face between your hands. his face felt cold to the touch, nose a pretty pink and lips still in a pout.

this time, you don't resist your urge to kiss.

you lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips. you could feel him melt under you, leaning into you while trying to deepen the connection. when you pull away after some time, he rushes to chase your lips. you place a finger to his.

"sol," you take a breath and continue.

"i've never really celebrated the holidays before. i mean, we did have some quality family time during the meals, of course. but we've never shopped for ornaments, or decorated the tree and put up a star. i've never sat down with them to watch christmas movies."

you smile when you notice his nose become even red, and smooch it.

"so, i've never really found the appeal to it. i'm grateful for all the holidays i've had, i really am. but there are just some things i silently wish for at times."

he takes a deep breath and pulls you in for a hug.

"let me fulfill that wish for you. we're a family, you and i. we can make new traditions, you know? i've watched a lot of holiday movies, we can watch them together ever year. make it special with some wine, or some hot chocolate. some caramel popcorn. a warm blanket around us."

he pauses to smile before going on.

"and you'll fall asleep in the middle of it, but i won't wake you up because then i'll get to have your share of the popcorn too. and i can tease you about it till the next year, when we do more things to tease each other about."

vernon presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

"you and i can slowly make it our little thing, just like you've wanted."

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

[revlw]

requests….. open…? i look down to my hands and smirk, it…. it must be my destiny…

HII!! hello there :J  I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THE WAY YOU WRITE WHAT?  drags my hand down a window longingly, can I so very humbly request something with Forsaken’s one and only Noob? </33 

could be whatever, fluff, hurt/comf, yan, GEN WHATEVER go crazy,,, i feel like i’m starving over here, clawing at the bars of my enclosure for the SCRAPS, help a guy out and my life is YOURS 🙏

𓏵 NOTICED

NOOB X READER

Warning ! : Emotional Vulnerability & Trauma Responses , Mentions of panic & fear , Physical content

Note ! : THANKU SM WHAR!!!! Art : @/eurymun on X

Noob drinks it slowly. They always do. Not because it helps them run faster or shakes off the slowness of dread, but because it’s the last thing in this world that still feels like before.

Before the maps.

Before the Others.

Before Sixer was a scream in the fog and not a hand in theirs.

Noob hides under the collapsed floorboards of the maintenance shack, knees tucked tight to their chest, ghostburger still clutched in trembling fingers. The wrappers crinkle when they shift, and the sound is too loud in the dark.

They’re not crying.

Their health is questionable. Their face disagrees.

The killer didn’t even hit them this time. Just got close. Close enough that their aura flashed red with that jittery, pixel-deep burn and Noob froze up. The panic sets in before pain ever does.

They hate that.

They hate being the kind of survivor who panics first.

Even though they’re trying so hard. Even though they haven’t used their potion yet. Even though they mapped every generator before the round started. Even though they whispered to you, just before the countdown:

“Y-You can hide behind me if you need to. I-I can… I can take the hit…”

They meant it. They meant it.

They always mean it.

You find them there eventually, tucked away with a white-knuckle grip on a half-bitten snack and their tears quietly pooling at the edges of their face. They don’t hear you at first.

They only look up when you gently kneel next to them, offering your own Bloxy Cola like a peace treaty.

“Here,” you whisper, “it’s the kind with Speed II. Trade?”

Noob’s lower lip wobbles. Their expression flickers like a dying signal: guilt, confusion, soft hope.

“B-But… this one’s mine…”

“You can have both.”

A pause.

And then they sniffle, blinking too fast. You’re not sure if they’re stunned by the kindness or stunned that it came from you. Maybe both.

They take the cola.

“Th-thanks…”

The fizz cracks softly in the quiet. You sit beside them, not saying anything more, letting them sip in peace. And when their shoulders stop shaking, when the crying-face fades from their status bar, when the tension bleeds out of their limbs just a little—they finally speak again.

“…I used to like these ‘cause… S-Sixer always saved me the cherry ones.”

You blink.

“Sixer?”

They don’t answer for a while.

Just sip.

And then:

“I… I never sent the letter.”

You don’t know what letter they’re talking about.

But you know it matters.

So you listen.

Noob fidgets with the wrapper on their ghostburger, tracing the edges with a trembling thumb.

“W-We used to be… always together, back then. N-Not scared. Just—j-just us. They’d run ahead, a-and I’d catch up. Always caught up.”

“Then we got caught. I— I d-don’t know if it was my fault or theirs or just—just… something. I ran. They didn’t. I thought maybe if I just… if I wrote it all out, I’d be brave enough to fix it.”

A shiver runs through them. Not from the cold. From memory.

You place your hand over theirs. Carefully. No sudden moves.

And to your quiet surprise—Noob lets you. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull away.

“Y-You think… Sixer remembers me? Or— Or if it’s like everyone else now. Glitched and gone and… different.”

You squeeze their hand.

“I think they remember.”

They don’t speak again after that.

But you sit together for a long while, tucked into the dark of the maintenance shack, two survivors with shared soda and mismatched wounds, the static hum of the round pressing in just far enough to remind you you’re still in danger—and still alive.

And maybe that’s enough.

Maybe, just maybe, surviving with Noob means healing, one cola at a time.

That night, when they lay curled on their bunk in the dim survivor quarters, the finished can sat on the floor by their pillow. They didn’t drink it.

They just… looked at it.

And smiled.

@revlw 2025

[suempu]

Hiii can I either get a kabru/mithrun x gn! reader who's likes to be femmine it can be nsfw or just fluff.

I'm just curious to see how they will behave with a reader that can be feminine at times, thanks. These boys can't get of my mind!! /affectionate

(Also I'm new here but I'll be anon 🌻!!)

-> welcome !!! i hope you've liked it here so far anon <33 -> kabru and mithrun included. post canon! mithrun. possible ooc. i kept it as fluff only !!!

kabru finds it endearing, some of your mannerisms remind him of his mother with the way you dote on some of the party members. he loves your sense of style and mannerisms, you're level headed and skilled in battle even with your frills and ribbons.

you're mostly seen as someone level headed within the group, sometimes he would seek you out for advice and input whenever he's having a tough time making a decision.

"here." kabru lets out a surprised 'ah' at the flower crown suddenly placed on his hair, you smiling from above him. "you made this?" he gently holds a petal. you hum a soft 'yes' at his flushed state. kabru glances around and sees that you've decorated most of the other member's heads with crowns of their own, kuro sneezing right into mickbell's head after breathing it in. he laughs. "thank you, they're beautiful."

once he realizes that he's actually into you, he has a strong urge to be seen as your protector. something about you has him feeling beautifully masculine— not in a traditional way but he wants to care for you, be there for you, and provide for you. he's entirely devoted.

he wants to hold your face whenever you cry, kiss your scars and cuts right after a battle, and chase away any disgusting bugs for you.

when you two get together, he sometimes finds his things decorated. a baby blue ribbon right on the sheath of his sword, a flower in his satchel, small gifts that you leave and scatter around that makes his heart bloom.

"pots and vases? are you starting a shop?" you stand in the middle of his bedroom, watching him fuss around with their placements. kabru wipes sweat from his brow, breathless from the carrying, "you always bring me flowers, i thought i could put some of them here." you coo, placing a hand on your chest. "aww, really?"

he's the type of lover that would support and actively participate in the things you enjoy, and although frills and lace look anything but pretty on him (his words, not yours) he'll don it with grace if it would make you happy.

<3

elves don't really discriminate towards feminine attributes so he hasn't really minded. he loves your softness, the way you seem to smooth over his rough edges and light up the seemingly meaningless tunnel he's been walking ever since he lost his desires.

mithrun wouldn't be aware of his feelings, he knows he holds a strong sense of familiarity and concern for you, but only after the main story would he be willing to actually dig deep into his heart in order to find an answer.

he's lost a lot of motivation to do certain things he used to enjoy, so he can't help but feel his heart ache whenever your hands card through his hair, delicate fingers treating him as though he is something to be cared for.

you put up his locks in a half braid before donning your work with hairclips embellished with flowers and butterflies. he feels his chest burn, his head hurts as if he's forgetting a vital part of who he is. like a memory he cannot remember.

your eyes meet through the mirror, a hand brushing and smoothing over his head. "do you like it?" holding a proud smile on your face, his skin tingles at where you touch him. tilting his head slightly to the side, he examines your work. "it's pretty."

after bagging the guy in a relationship (lol), he's felt lighter, chest heavier— filled with warm emotions that you've blessed him.

mithrun is... casual. in a way that he's very chill. he'll let you do almost anything to him without question. he accepts whatever you give or show him, making an effort to think well before replying with words and sentiments he thinks you might appreciate or be happy with.

you gift him various ornaments, bracelets, and headpieces. he keeps them tucked away in a small chest near his pillow in the canaries' bunker to safeguard.

he once asked why, mithrun is always on missions, always in battle. why take the time to love someone like him? he feels shame, especially after everything he's done and been through.

his heart has buried his emotional turmoil, his resentment and envy. with the insecurity from his brother's success and him being robbed of the woman he used to love, he has a hard time accepting your affection sometimes.

its hard. progress is slow, especially for long life spanned species such as him to finally grasp his flaws. you take the time to reassure him, supporting his growth with overcoming his deepest fears. and although he's lost a lot, been robbed of what he had, you're the one thing he can't bear to lose.

[glowettee]

hiii! i love your acc, it's so cute :3 i was wondering if you could do a post about self-love, it's something i've been struggling w/ lately. thank youuu

uncommon but life-changing self-love practices (that actually work) 🎀

posted by: glowettee

hey angel! thank you for this question in my mailbox! and ahhhh thank you so much you're so sweet!! i'm sorry this post was a little late, self-care is soooo important, i want to give you some tips that you don't hear to often that i do in my self-love journey! i'll share some not-so-obvious self-love practices that literally changed my life! ♡

♡ redefining your space psychology because your environment shapes your self-perception:

bedroom makeover with intention:

rearrange furniture to face the sunrise (this literally changed my morning mindset!)

create a "victory wall" with tiny achievements (i put up a photo of my first B- grade that turned into an A-)

place mirrors strategically (not just for selfies, but for daily affirmations)

use color psychology (i painted one wall rose quartz pink in my room and it actually improved my mood)

create a dedicated self-love corner (mine has fairy lights, positive letters from friends, and little trinkets from my childhood, along with printed photos from pinterest with self-love affirmations/lists.

♡ morning practices instead of basic routines, try these instead:

the "main character energy" morning:

write how your day went (successfully) and about yourself in third person (like "mindy gracefully picked up her pen, to conquer calculus, she did all her chores, and even studied japanese for 2 hours.")

practice "mirror dating" (spend 5 mins having an actual conversation with yourself - it's weird but works!)

create a "today i choose" list (instead of a to-do list)

dance to one song before doing anything else (i do taylor swift, or newjeans obviously)

write a love letter to a body part you're struggling with (i wrote to my uncooperative hair and now we're besties <3)

♡ digital self-love (but make it intentional) because we live online but need boundaries:

phone transformation:

change your passwords to affirmations (mine is a variation of "mindyisworthy2025")

create a folder of your awkward photos (embrace the cringe! and laugh with your friends, its so fun)

record yourself modeling, or pretending your a celebrity or k-pop idol

take selfies without filters (document your real smile)

set random alarms with love notes to yourself

hide little sticky notes with cute reminders about yourself in your room, so when you stumble upon it a month later it'll make you smile!

social media rebellion:

post the photos you'd usually delete (even if it's made private)

share your real study space (messy notes and all)

document your growth journey (even the uncomfortable parts)

create a finsta for your completely unfiltered self

make reels about your self-love journey (even if they're private)

♡ physical self-love (the weird but effective version) not basic bubble baths:

unexpected body appreciation:

thank your body parts for specific things ("thank you hands for letting me write my study notes")

have a private dance party in weird places (i do this in elevators when i'm alone)

wear your prettiest clothes to study, or even to the grocery store (even if no one sees)

make up your own choreography to your favorite songs

make your own workout or stretching routine with different stretches/exercises you make up yourself

comfort zone expansion:

try eating alone in public (start small - i began with coffee shops)

wear that "special occasion" outfit to class

speak up in class even if your voice shakes

send yourself flowers to your dorm/apartment (I LOVE DOING THIS EVERY VALENTINES <33)

take yourself on cute dates (let a coin flip decide where you go! or ask google.)

♡ emotional archaeology dig deeper than surface-level feelings:

create an emotion museum:

keep a "weird thoughts" journal (mine has my 3am existential questions)

make a playlist for each mood (even the uncomfortable ones)

collect "emotional souvenirs" (me and my grandmother had a cafe date a few years ago, and i still keep the receipt today)

document your crying sessions (trust me, looking back at these helps)

write letters to your past and future self

validation exercises:

practice saying "my feelings about this are valid" in the mirror

create a "proof of worth" folder on your phone

collect screenshots of nice messages

record yourself giving pep talks

keep a "wins" journal (especially tiny ones)

♡ advanced self-love techniques for when you're ready to level up:

relationship building with yourself:

schedule weekly "self-dates" (i do wednesday coffee dates with myself)

create a personal manifesto (update it monthly)

develop inside jokes with yourself

celebrate monthly self-love anniversaries

create traditions just for you

growth documentation:

take progress polaroids (not just physical)

voice record your daily thoughts

measure growth in unconventional ways (like "times i chose myself")

create time capsules every season

write monthly letters to yourself

self-love isn't just face masks and bubble baths (though those are nice too!). it's about building a deep, weird, wonderful relationship with yourself. it's about becoming your own best friend, confidante, and biggest supporter.

some of these might seem strange at first, but that's okay! the best relationships often have their quirks. start with what feels right and slowly expand your comfort zone. it's not just about practicing self-love, it's also about creating your own unique love language with yourself!

you're doing amazing things just by being you, and i'm so proud of you for prioritizing this journey! remember, the relationship you have with yourself sets the tone for every other relationship in your life.

xoxo, mindy 🎀