#hi im just musing aloud

[broodwolf221]

i love how solas is an antagonist bc... it would be so easy to make him the protagonist, instead. like, they can't, they won't, it wouldn't work in terms of what the franchise has been offering, but yknow... it could work, narratively speaking, if we played as solas in da4. seeking a restoration of the world, that's not outside the realm of a videogame plot, not at all. it would be the smallest twist to establish him as the main character - he's only the antagonist in dai bc the inquisitor - and by extension, the inquisition - is the protagonist.

but like... is it? really? they do good work, sure, but it's just... it's an arm of the chantry. it's religious fervor if not fanaticism. it's pointing at a victim and calling them a god-send and a sign of divinity and righteousness. we're meant to sympathize with them bc we play as the inquisitor and get to have a say, but even then, do we really? setting aside issues of game mechanics and focusing exclusively on the narrative for a moment...

we as the player are not given a lot of autonomy. we can make some big choices, sure, but the results are all the same. side with the mages? okay, they help close the breach. so do the templars. in the one, we get dorian early, but still get cole. vice versa for the other. it doesn't really matter to the game who rules orlais. corypheus is defeated no matter who you ally with. in fact, all the allegiances you've spent the game building up become immaterial in the final battle.

the dai protag is a cog in a machine with a narrow range of choices. ultimately, they have to be the inquisitor, even if they hate the chantry, even if they have a different faith - because of the anchor, because they're the only one who can seal the rifts and the breach. it's a burden of utility that shifts into a religious calling, regardless of their own faith/lack thereof.

so what kind of protag are they, speaking to the broader narrative? no matter what they do, no matter who or how they are, the end results are very similar. sure, they can be brutal and unyielding and leave death in their wake, but even then it barely impacts the overarching story. solas is the one shaking and shaping the narrative, far more than the inquisitor ever gets to.

the inky is a plot device we get to customize, but not much of a protag. one could argue, i dont think unjustly, that the inquisition itself, as an entity, is more of a protag than the actual inquisitor, because as an entity they have more - again, narrative, not gameplay - ability to shape things.

[unironicallycringe]

Idk if I mentioned it before, but one of the Hashtag Themes™️ I want to embed into TMM is the spirit of the saying "the only way out is through", and uhhhh BIG EMOTIONAL EXHALE CAUSE DAMN I'M GETTING A REMINDER THAT IT SURE IS TRUE

For real though, been thinking of that quote for the past few days again. Grief makes you want to squirm out of your skin and escape to a place where your reality isn't true. But that is impossible, and you have to walk with your grief and feel all the heartache instead in order to fully heal from it.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 4: John?

The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.

“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.

“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.

“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.

“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.

“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.

“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.

“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.

“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”

Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.

Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled.  “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”

“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.

“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.

“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.

“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.

“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked. 

“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.

“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake. 

“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.

“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.

“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.

“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.

“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.

“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.

“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.

-

It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.

Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).

It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.

The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.

As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.

“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…

Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.

“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.

“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.

“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.

“Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”

“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”

“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.

“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.

Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.

“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.

“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.

“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly. 

“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.

Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.

“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.

Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.

“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.

“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.

Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.

John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally

“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.

John: our names are kyle john and simon

“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.

John: johnny* sorry

They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.

you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?

“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.

“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.

He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen. 

John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?

Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.

John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.

“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.

“So did you!” Ghost retorted.

“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.

“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”

As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”

“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.

“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.

“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.

“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.

The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.

“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.

“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.

They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.

After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”

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

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[iuwon]

X ▸ yang jungwon (part i)

▸ DESCRIPTION : what do you get when you have a stupid asshole of a bestfriend (who’s completely head over heels for you, should he add) and a fucked up ego that refuses to admit any form of defeat? you guessed it: the summoning of a jealous ex-boyfriend who dumped you two years ago, and is hell-bent on winning you back.

▸ PAIRING : ex!yang jungwon x female reader (feat. nishimura riki)

▸ GENRE(S) : angst, fluff, slow burn, exes au, college au

▸ WORD COUNT : 28.5k+

▸ WARNING(S) : this is very fast-paced for a slow burn, VERY cringe-y angst and writing (pls spare me it’s my first time😭), fake-dating with riki, JUNGWON REDEMPTION ARC ON PART 2, breakup scenes, indication of hang-ups and love triangles, jealousy, profanities, mentions of a car accident, blood, flashbacks from before and after the breakup, both reader and jungwon have issues :D, this has a second part because the fic is too long, not proofread, kindly let me know if there are any more ^-^

▸ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST : here

▸ UPDATED A/N : hello!! i finished this fic on the start of 2022 and then left it like that when i went on my hiatus, so rereading it nearing the end of 2022 .. i CANNOT take this seriously LMFAOO i was high and i dramatized everything im sawry. But. this is the longest fic i’ve written so far and for that i’m sort of :D i have little to almost zero experience of writing long fics AND angst, so i really hope to any who read this won’t have any high expectations T^T pls lmk your thoughts on this one!

▸ REQUESTED! for my scorpio twin anon :)

SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST LIKE KITES.

Someone had said that once, you remember. They’re the type of people that don’t have their two feet planted anywhere near the ground. They fly, and they keep flying. They have their mind fixated on solely reaching higher and higher up the sky just to blissfully enjoy the breeze. 

They continue to fly up once the string is held securely in someone’s hand. The thought never crosses their mind that the person holding the string might ever grow tired, or that the person would only continue to hold on because it’s hard to release the string - because it’s hard to let go.

Sometimes, the kite flies away. Either the wind current was too strong, or maybe it slipped out of your grasp. In the end, the one holding the kite is always the one to blame for carelessly losing them - it’s the person who mourns of the lost kite and suffers the consequences.

.

.

.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

You were the type that always focused on studies. 

A homebody was what you were. To you, school was meant for school. The topic of boys never interested you, and Yang Jungwon wasn’t anywhere never of an exemption. 

Yang Jungwon, the notorious musical genius – the charming boy-wonder who lived in his own 4D world. People could say countless of sweet things to describe him, but you would forever see him as a person who was incapable of holding an interest for anyone for longer than his short attention span could hold – much more a romantic one.

You hissed in frustration, “Yang Jungwon, I swear to God, if you will not leave me alone -” your tone doesn’t faze him at all, as expected. He was immune to all your threats and remarks long before. A wide cheeky grin splits open his features before his hand reaches over and snatches your chemistry textbook at the mid-sentence of your threat, peeking over at it, “Chemical bonding?” he reads aloud, titling his head. 

And he irritates you further. Your mid-term finals were next week, and you were barely getting any of the subjects done at this rate. You were close to college, and you did not want to have anything, or anyone mess it up. 

You glare at him, “I’ve been at the same topic for the past half hour because of you,” trying to reach over your stolen textbook from the boy who never just seemed to leave you alone, his lips tug downwards in a musing pout. He stares at you before his eyes light up in thought. 

Without another word, he leaves his chair beside you, not before passing you your book. You immediately grip onto your textbook with relief, skeptical that he’d grab it back away from you again.

Moments pass and you have the time all to yourself to study, but it’s too quiet for you - despite being at a bustling café. You turn your head to both your sides, eyes subconsciously searching for him. You blink, where did he go? Did you manage to kick him out once and for all -?

A whisper from your left ear interrupts your thoughts, and you feel a warm figure lightly pressing against you from behind, “try to sing out the formulas, they’re easier to remember.”

You almost yelp in surprise, jumping away from him. Where the hell did he come from? “Yah, are you crazy -?” you began, but he starts to lightheartedly poke fun. “C’mon, do it. It’ll be easier to remember,” he encourages you, pulling out a guitar from behind. You didn’t even bother to question where he had the time to get his guitar. All you were thinking about were ways to make him leave.

You shot him a look, annoyed. “Do what?”

He was always so childish. So bothersome.

He randomly strums out his guitar strings before picking up a tune, “Sing the formulas out,” his eyes momentarily directed you to the textbook laid out on the table, “I’ll help you with the melody. Go on,” you were ready to throw a harsh retort at him, telling him off to how he was wasting your time and how his idea was stupid - but his eyes; his perfectly shaped eyes looking ever so purely earnest your way.

You hated it.

You weren’t a musical genius or any of that sort, that was all Jungwon. You couldn’t just whip out the best melodic high note nor could you memorize a thousand slide powerpoint discussion even with the help of music. He didn’t have to worry about his grades - hence, his carefree attitude - and he didn’t have to stress over finals week when his career in music was already made out for him. All he ever did around school was tag along and annoy you, try the most obnoxious attempts to ask you out, play his guitar, and listen to music in the earphones he never took off. 

You hesitantly look away, if you went along with him - maybe he’d go away once he got what he wanted to do. Little did you know how helpful the technique Jungwon suggested came out - or how fun it actually tuned out to be despite how awful your voice was, he was still looking at you like you were the singing like the angels. 

Barely another hour later, you remarkably managed to get it all by heart and cover the topics that couldn’t have been covered in at least three days - with the help of the one person who has been disturbing you from studying in the first place. You could only gawk dumbly at his guitar. 

Jungwon could sense your astonishment from miles away, and that made him all the more complacent with the huge beam he was wearing on his face. He wasn’t going to merely let this go. That trademark boyish look of his is back. “For my payment of very helpful service,” he starts as if you had ever asked him in the first place as he pretends to think, humming, “I’ll accept it in forms of you allowing me to take you out,” he suggests gleefully, his eyes sparkling in mischief. 

You would normally scoff at his attempt yet again, telling him off - but this time. You couldn’t keep count of the endless tries he’s pulled this trick. This time you helplessly shake your head with a roll of your eyes. You couldn’t keep count of anything anymore, nor were you going to start now.

Yang Jungwon wasn’t going to give up on you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

.

.

.

TWO YEARS LATER [ JUNGWON’S POV ]

Through the extent of his memory, you never failed to take care of Yang Jungwon.

Not once. No matter how hard you would push him aside and passively act like you didn’t care much about him, you would be there for him; you would always be there. By his side.

And then you were gone.

Jungwon was two years older now.

Checking the items in his shopping bag to see if everything was complete, he leaves the grocery store, rummaging through his purchased items when his body swiftly crashes onto something. He takes a few steps to regain his stance as he stumbles backward.

“Oh, sorry,” someone says, and it takes a moment or two before he snapped out of his daze. He turns instinctively to the direction of the voice as he tries to readjust his grip on his pile of bags.

That voice. He knows that voice. 

But for a moment, his breathing halts, body stiffening instantly at the sight of someone he’d never expected to see. Never. Never again. Because this time, it’s you.

You.

You blink, showing mild surprise. And indifference. As if you were looking straight at a stranger. Your eyes pointedly averts itself away from him while you keep the proper formalities and try to start a conversation with your composure, “Uh, hello. How are you?”

To say that he’s caught off guard is too much of an understatement.

You looked different.

You looked good.

No.

You looked beautiful.

Is he dead? No, wait. What? Air gets knocked out of his lungs and he feels like he’s been punched in the gut at the same time.

You looked more beautiful than the image that he had of you for the past years, and it breaks him.

Like nothing has ever pulled you down – as if leaving you only did you good – as if it never happened or affected you by the least. 

How could you look so well?

To say that Jungwon looked like a mess was an understatement.

He bit his tongue, cursing for choosing the greatest timing. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, subtly trying to adjust it. What should he do . . . now? How should he start? 

How were you? Why didn’t you look for him? Were you doing fine? Did you find someone else? Have you moved on? Should he move on? Did you -

In the short silence, you seemed to be relieved to receive a text message, the ding that gives you an excuse to look away and check your phone. You make a face, feeling suddenly alarmed. Expression rushed, you formally bid him goodbye, and it fucking hurts him even more. “Nice seeing you. I should be on my way now. Have a nice day.”

A strangers’ nice pleasantry. With no sincerity. 

But you walk away, leaving him – not bothering to ask him for another meet-up. Jungwon is left standing in the middle of the street, dumbfounded.

Like it ended here.

Is this it?

He wasn’t even able to get to say anything.

This was worse than being nothing to each other.

It was worse than being treated like someone you hated.

He tries to inhale. 

Jungwon has no idea, honestly. Not anymore. 

One day, he had told himself for years.

One day, he would broadly smile at you. He’d stand proudly confident, and you’d know that he’s gotten over you for good. He’d win and see that he’s no longer suffering. You would see. You would. He’d get over you.

But bumping into you for the first time in years had Jungwon rethinking if he’s ever gotten over your eyes in the first place.

.

.

.

PRESENT 

You can sulk for a little, throw a tantrum - but a kite is a kite. There’s no chance of it coming back; once you let go, it doesn’t look back at you to pause and run back to your hold. There was only one thing you could do from thereon: you could always forget about it, toss it aside like a child does, and replace it with a new one; making sure it’s a much better kind. 

That. That was something you reminded yourself time and time again for the past two years. Though the line was taken from a measly television show that you’ve watched long ago, it’s been the only line of string that kept you from looking back - like a mother telling her child to stop crying over a lost kite.

But, right then and there, it was like time itself pauses for you when you stand in the same café four years ago, hearing the all-familiar voice that you could never forget. There, when you feel your heart beating out of your control and dropping dead. There, where you’re not sure of the extent of what you could restrain yourself from doing.

You don’t know how you’re suddenly transported to the direction of the soft voice - it’s familiarity greeting you, and for a brief second, the memories you’ve burned long ago painfully flash back to mind - you almost flinch.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ train wreck by james arthur ] 

“I don’t wanna lose this, but I’m not getting through this. Hey, should I pray? Should I pray? Yeah,” Yang Jungwon.

It’s him.

Him, with his stupidly beautiful voice and his damn entrancing presence dragging you back harder than you remembered, and the pain he’s trying to immerse himself in as he ignores his physical surroundings. 

And you.

You, as you’re trying to fight away the haunting flash of memories that are slowly starting to accompany you, and you, as you could do nothing but fleetingly watch him. 

This was the second time you’ve bumped into him. You snorted, why was he always everywhere you went?

And it was like after the years of methodically stitching yourself back together, you’re transported back to the same person you were two years ago. 

A fool.

“To myself? To a God? To a savior who can …” 

You admit, there were days where you forgot his face - or in other words, days where you refused to acknowledge how he used to look at you. Days where it was too painful to even think about. 

You swear to yourself that those days are long over.

Standing across the end of the room after three years of absolutely nothing from him felt suffocating, as if there was no air to breathe. You didn’t realize you were holding in a short breath, and when you exhaled - you felt pinning, and needles, and knives stabbed deep into your lungs. 

“Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words. Find hope in the hopeless - pull me out of the train wreck,” 

When Jungwon’s eyes slowly open, the first thing he sees is you. 

Both your eyes meet, and he freezes. All too slowly. Everything in motion. You notice how his eyes widen, and how the old memories flash in his eyes all the same. 

PainMiseryHurtDisbeliefHope-

The regret.

All this happens in front of you. A dream. A nightmare. All at once. Your face remains passive and unaffected, hard - nonchalant with ease, refusing to feel bothered. Time seems slow, but you don’t hesitate to casually walk away, being the first to break eye-contact. You didn’t want to spend another second in that room.

Your grip on the drink in hand tightens in its own accord.

You’ve moved on.

But what was this sort of feeling enveloping you in?

A teasing wolf-whistle startles you on your way out of the café, ripping you out of the lethargic trance you were warped into. “Was that an ex I saw over there?” You find Nishimura Riki with his shit-eating face and his waggling of eyebrows up beside you. Grimacing at his face, you harshly nudge your elbow to his sides in annoyance. 

Breathing is a little bit easier with him around.

But you still feel like vomiting. “Is shutting up not part of how your brain is wired?” you roll your eyes, showing no effort at all to hide your agitation. He lets out an amused laugh, his playful gaze only duplicating itself as he proceeds to brutally tease you. 

Riki isn’t an asshole. Not really. He’s what you’d call your best friend … without much other choice. Though he can perfectly embody one, he knows his limits (though you may sometimes find yourself doubting it) and the extents to where he can joke around. He can be all sorts annoying and a douche whenever food is on the line, but he’s the only one who’s stuck with you since day one of what happened two years ago - and never bothered to pressure you into questions that tormented you even further.

You lost contact with the friends you had once shared along with Jungwon. It felt embarrassing and uncomfortable to hang around them with everyone aware of what happened, until it was long months later that it just didn’t seem right to suddenly start hanging around them again after your efforts vigorously avoiding them.

You’ve lost a lot.

And you just met the man behind it all.

Nishimura Riki was sort of all you had, and he knew that too. He figured everything that happened eventually through time, by himself. Picking up the little things wasn’t too difficult to do, neither was piecing everything together with a little help and slow nudge from you over the years. 

“He’s moving in this building, you know,” he looks over to your side.

Your stomach lurches, freezing in place. Your jaw nearly drops to the floor, gaping at him like your eyes would bulge out any second. 

Over your fucking dead body. 

That building was precisely the building you lived in. “What?” you nearly yell, causing passersby walking along the sidewalks to throw the both of you looks.  

He rolls his eyes, “Geez, princess, clam down. I was kidding,” he bumps his shoulder next to yours, as if he was trying to shake you up. He starts going over about how you were showing ‘hang-ups’ symptoms before you start barking a mouthful of threatening-nothings to have him shut his mouth, running after him.

Something rings different, however.

Yang Jungwon.

The name lingers in the back of your head, no matter how hard you try to push it away. It’s been three years, but when the kite you’ve lost years ago - the kite you swore you’ve already forgotten about - comes back, what then? 

.

.

.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

You weren’t necessarily the warmest type of person.

Blank faces, blunt responses, and sharp glares were all people received from you. You got others avoiding you in return, it was a give and take situation that benefited perfectly on both sides – perhaps more on your side. It worked as a repellent to kept everyone off your radar. And you liked that. You enjoyed being left alone. You found peace in your own solitude, away from other people. You were never exactly fond of people, either way.

Yang Jungwon was certainly a different breed.

Maybe it was the challenge that he liked, at first. You; the unwavering and ‘unbeatable’ challenge that provoked him – enticed him. That kept him coming. You were a brick wall, and he was someone who had the world at the palm of his hand.

But you don’t know how his intentions changed along the way.

You don’t know what made him change his mind – or what part of you that he saw that made him choose to do so, but it wasn’t of any use to figure out how.

Because he wanted you, now.

And he would ever-so-bluntly admit that.

All your efforts of shrugging him off made him fight harder for you. It was useless. The more you would curse at him with the harshest words just made him want to tag along by your side even more with that boyish grin never leaving his face.

He was a weird one.

“You know, you’re not as mean as how the people label you as.”

“And you’re more annoying than they claim you to be,” you don’t crack an amused smile. Jungwon wonders if he’s ever seen you smile – or even wear anything else of an expression that didn’t look bored, annoyed, angry, or enraged. He takes a moment to visualize how beautiful you would look when you smile and decides that he’ll do anything to see that happen. Just like that.

“You keep tossing me away,” he defended himself, the corner of his lips tugging downwards in the smallest pout.

“You keep coming back,” you retorted back, eyes shooting daggers.

By the look of his face, you realize your response wasn’t the best. “I’ll keep coming back to you,” he finishes. A lopsided grin. His brain was wired differently.

You didn’t hold back your prolonged suffering exhale.

It was a careless remark.

Such a recklessly made promise.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

[ JUNGWON’S POV ]

No one loves you like Yang Jungwon.

Whenever you’re blabbering about something with the biggest smile on your face, every time at that exact moment Jungwon knows that no one can ever be as fucking in love you like a dumb plain sheet of white paper like he can. Nor can they get to know you - or the 2 am you. They wouldn’t get to know how beautiful you look with the one side-lamp illuminating a side of your face - and the little things that come along with it, it’s only him. 

It’s only him.

But when he stares into your eyes, he knows it all too. No one is as bad for you as Jungwon is either, he believes, and it fucking destroys him as he holds onto you tighter, his hands slightly trembling. He can’t lose you, he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t know the person he’ll become if he ever does. He doesn’t know if he’ll even make a day after it. 

Why didn’t he think that there would ever be an end to a sweet dream?

Yang Jungwon is your first, but someone else is going to be your last.

Someone else that wasn’t him. 

He muffles the sound of the soft cries that escape him as you peacefully sleep next to him in his tight hold, unaware of what’s to come.

He’s everything that he promised you he would never be.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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THE NEXT WEEK

Riki must’ve placed some sort of curse on you for this to happen.

You could vividly imagine his shit-eating face with his loud laughter already.

Whatever witchcraft or shitty attempt of ‘fate’ this was, Nishimura Riki was going to be the cause of your death. Though this has barely anything to do with him, you can’t think of anyone else that brings that much bad luck to you. You’re seriously starting to think the world is unreservedly just fucking with you for entertainment.

Just when you thought you were never going to see him again.

Yang Jungwon stands at the front of the classroom, leaning on one foot with a backpack slung over his one shoulder. You almost facepalm, this was some Egyptian curse that was going to follow and haunt you, wasn’t it? Perhaps the ghost haunting you was in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

Of course, the new student had to just be him.

You never thought you would ever see him again. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice you and sits the farthest from your area. You keep your head focused on the individual work assigned to the class. If this whole thing could keep up, you could probably spend the next semester without him knowing you’re in the same class, then, you could hopefully change classes by the next - it wouldn’t be so bad. You didn’t have to acknowledge him.

That is, until the Professor starts assigning him roles and tasks. “There are the modules for you to read, and then around four individual minor projects to keep up with. The fifth individual project, however, majorly affects your grade,” he pauses, lightly smacking his lips as he scans his student list. 

He flips through papers as he continues, “since you’ve missed most of the term, I’ll be pairing you up with Lim Seoyeon,” he drags the last word, scurrying through his papers to find another name, “and Y/L/N Y/N. Both are only lacking their thesis papers, while the others are still lacking to submit three projects, so it would be most convenient for her compared to the rest.” 

Your stomach churns, feeling sick. Physically cringing, you felt like creating an uproar. Wherever Yang Jungwon goes, trouble always follows; this simply could not be happening to you. Lord, it was the least convenient to you. 

This world couldn’t hate you this much.

You wanted to curse any of the gods above you placed you in this shithole, being beyond frustrated and unwilling. Anyone but him. You could only mournfully regret passing all your projects in advance, it was ironic. You get yourself into fucked up situations for being a good student? What is this university? 

The Professor doesn’t clarify anything with you - nor does he justify the situation and the injustice, but only throws a nod in acknowledgement in your direction before he waves at Jungwon in dismissal - excusing himself from the classroom.

Your eyes could almost bulge out.

What was happening . . . ?

Jungwon’s eyes sweep over the room before he finds you, but you note how he doesn’t look the least surprised to see you. He stares, trying to discern your expression, but you once again break eye contact within a second.

You were in hell.

You had no option to stalk up to the teacher’s desk to bargain when the professor wasn’t there in the first place. You were fucking stuck with him. You felt the burning flames when he got up to make his way to you, and as he stood right in front of you. Choking to death because of a meatball in live television seemed like a much peaceful idea that kept most of your remaining dignity. 

Maybe if you kept your head buried with studies, he would go away.

“Y/N,” a voice acknowledges you.

Fuck, you could remember that voice anywhere. 

“It’s nice to see you.” Yang Jungwon. 

You made a noise in response.

The feeling was not reciprocated.

You hate the way he sounds.

Like he wasn’t the same person three years ago.

You forcefully nod curtly at him, and you’re drowning.

Suddenly, we are strangers again. An unwanted stranger. There was no other option rather than tolerating him until it was all fine. You could do this. You didn’t want to, but you had to, otherwise you’d be at the polar end of the classroom by now if you had the choice. 

But you chose to ignore him: Ignore the fact that he sat right next to you in close proximity, ignore the fact that you could smell his cologne - the familiarity of it and how it smelled like home, and ignored him like he never existed when he tried asking questions. In your defense, either they were a waste of time to answer, or they could easily be found in the textbook. 

“Hi, I was wondering if –” Ignore it.

“Do you know where the questions for –?” Ignore it.

“Don’t you think this project is pretty difficult –?” Ignore it.

And you turned a blind eye to the fact that you disregarded him because you didn’t know if you could control yourself.

Seoyeon was a lifesaver, managing to keep you sane as she voluntarily chose to step in to help Jungwon out after hearing all his questions directed to you left unanswered. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you were forced alone with him. She reads the room but doesn’t question anything. 

You tell yourself it was anger that made yourself this way.

Blind consuming anger.

You hate how Jungwon could still manage read you after all this time.

A quiet and gentle question, “Y/N, are you mad at me?”

You barely react, but your eyes squint on their own. You weren’t going to lie nor deny it, you do really wish he hadn’t chosen to interact with you. Staring blankly at your laptop screen, you don’t move. A hushed voice - a subconscious that you swore you lost long ago - in the back of your head whispers an answer before you force yourself to shove it down. You almost scoffed; are you mad at him? What kind of a dumb question is that? 

He was nothing but an ass, he hadn’t changed. 

“No, why would I be?” You answer brusquely, your tone signifying that you were keeping a distance from him without having to say it.

You hope the cue was taken.

There was no need to keep the friendliness with him – you weren’t obligated to. Formalities were all there was left. At least you would treat him with the respect that you were scraping your skin out for, right? Whatever you had with him - it was over. It was long gone. 

You refused to be controlled under the palm of his hand ever again.

You swiftly pack your belongings and left him without a work or glance to spare his way the second you hear the bell signal the end of the period right on time. You don’t even bid your classmate, Seoyeon, goodbye. You’d apologize to her later and explain things to her, hoping she’d understand and lend a helping hand.

It’s been two years and the minute he shows up, you find yourself crumbling and unable to control yourself, and that frustrates you. You’re slipping.

Being around him was a waste of energy.

You remind yourself that you feel nothing. 

He was a stranger to you now.

Once again, you walked away from him, gripping the strap of your backpack tightly in sheer annoyance and vexation. Mind racing, you try to find a reason; why was Yang Jungwon in your major and university and what in the heavens above does he want from you?

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LATER

Riki roars in laughter, his hand slapping his knee as he nearly falls off the chair. You were almost tempted to push him off. 

“You think it can’t get any funnier than that, but it does!” he pretends to wipe away a fake tear, “you ignored him all the way through!” he bursts into fits laughter once again. 

“Poor guy, getting the silent treatment from someone like Y/N on your first day at college is depressing,” he empathizes, though it doesn’t sound by any means sincere. Nothing about Nishimura Riki is sincere. “At least I’m not the only one Y/N treats like shit!” he notes positively with a beam on his face, but you’re not sure if that’s anything that’s supposed to be of positive news.

You whack the back of his head, and he whines. “When have I ever treated you like shit, you dumbass?” 

“I’m taking this as a form of harassment,” he grumbles.

You stick your tongue out at him mischievously, “Oh, boo-hoo, you big baby, ‘s not like you don’t bully the hell out of me,” you roll your eyes, “and help out and do something about Jungwon, will you?” you ask him for a favor, your tone indicating exhaustion.

He furrows his eyebrows at you, “What’d you want me to do - bury his body? Doll, I barely even know the guy.” 

You swing your arms - shooing something nonexistent away for gesturing, “Just keep him away! I don’t know, do one of those stupid ideas that you always come up with. I can’t stand seeing his face,” you complain, almost childishly stomping your feet in outrage. This was unlike you.

He lowly whistles, “I was really hoping for some real kind of exes-to-lovers type of k-drama lead coming to life,” he comments, and you muster the biggest disgusted glare at him. He only shrugs his shoulders with a mere ‘hey-what-can-you-do?’.

“However, there’s a …” he trails off, lighting up like a lightbulb with an idea in mind already. 

You raise a brow, “A what?” 

He looks at you with a grin, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, “We can fake-date.”

You were dumb to ask him for ideas. You groan. “Not again.”

“C’mon,” he probes you, tugging at your arm. Was he really that bored with his life to want to fake-date you?

You blankly stare at him, deadpanned. “You get dumber and dumber the more I talk to you,” you don’t hold back from telling him, receiving a dirty scowl thrown at you, “I’m serious! Isn’t that what people do whenever one of their exes show up?”

Squinting at him, you ask, “Just how many fanfics have you been reading?” 

He crosses his arms, “Make fun of me all you want, but we both know that those ideas never fail,” he huffs, “you wanted him gone, didn’t you?” he tries to resonate, “Everyone thinks we’re already a thing anyway, it won’t be too hard, or would it be much of a trouble if we just went on with it. We’re basically pros at this dating thing, aren’t we?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yes, and getting back at him would feel rightfully good as hell and all but,” you sigh in exasperation, hating to be the one to ruin the fun, “doing that would mess everything up even more, I’m sure. We’d be the ones ending up as the dumb fools in the situation. Did you already forget the time we fake dated to get that girl obsessed over you off your back? And how it backfired on us?” you stated, and Riki’s thoughtful silence justified your stance. 

You’d rather die the most undignified death than have Yang Jungwon win the second time around, and that was not happening under Nishimura Riki’s watch.

“If I could just turn into a wizard or anything like that and ‘magic’ him away,” you plopped an arm up on the desk, resting the side of your cheek at the palm of your hand, “probably turn him into a damn ugly and useless broomstick while at it, too.”

Riki lets out a humorous short laugh at the sight of you, “Cheer up, princess,” he slings an arm around your shoulder, poking your cheek, “I’ll help you too, and I’ll beat him up whenever he tries to go near you; hot sexy Nishimura Riki cares about your cute dumbass,” You bump your hip playfully toward his. I’m not leaving you alone, is what he was trying to say.

He’d excuse it as simply returning the favor that he asked from you. The time when the both of you fake-dated, and it backfired – forcing you to reach extreme measures that went on for months.

Right, you had Riki. And he wasn’t going to just ditch you, not like him. He’s stayed firmly next to you for the past two years through all the shit you put him though (and all the shit he put you through). Riki may have been a rascal, but he was nothing compared to how shitty Yang Jungwon was.

You simply just had to keep going and help Jungwon out in certain parts while interacting the least you could and ignore him (or preferably call Riki to tell him off, he’d love to finally be given the chance to annoy the shit out of someone) whenever he tries anything funny. As soon as it was over, you’d do your stay out of his way and pretend like nothing happened. After all, he was the one who left. If anyone was trying to run away, it’d be him.

Everything was going to be fine. You didn’t care.

It was no big deal; no extensive measures were needed.

A sharp inhale.

You didn’t know if you were lying or if you were telling the truth.

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ yellow by coldplay ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Jungwon liked to follow you around.

He also liked dragging you along with him with whatever excuse he could come up with. You never could really decipher what that oddball was thinking, just when you thought you caught up to him, he surprises you with something new every day. 

Lee Heeseung, your senior, was discussing that week’s event that the school was holding with you when Jungwon swoops in and drags you away without second thought, “Sorry, hyung! Gotta borrow her today ~” he throws a grin, and Heeseung could only roll his eyes, staring in playful disbelief after the both of you, “ya, that’s what you said the last three times too!”

Jungwon gives the kind of pleading look you know Heeseung couldn’t resist, “I swear I’ll pay you back with free lunch, hyung!” he yells back. You were used to being dragged away or trailed around by him; it wasn’t anything of the ordinary. He winks at you. 

No matter how hard you would try to avoid him or threaten him, he was always looking at you with the most mischievous silly and crazy ideas in mind. 

On the other hand, he didn’t really enjoy the idea of you hanging out with other guys.

Could you call him delusional? You really wanted to.

And then there was this other instance, where Jungwon had sulked behind you the whole period, making noises that surely irritated you whilst you interviewed Park Jay for a class paper, who was a part of the varsity team. It forced you to spend the entire day with him for the interview, which Jungwon did not seem to like. It came to the point where you had to embarrassedly excuse yourself from the number of huffs and noises he was making. Jay was left giving confused looks, completely distracted from the whole topic that the whole interview was pointless no matter how hard her tried to ignore Jungwon.

“What is your deal?” You hissed at Jungwon in annoyance as soon as you scurried away from the varsity team, “you completely embarrassed me over there, you rascal!” He doesn’t hear you. He seemed deep in thought, as if he was battling with himself. Jungwon faced you with the biggest frown - looking more distraught than ever, “You don’t like him, right?”

Your mouth slightly hangs open, thrown off-guard. What?

“He isn’t your type, isn’t he? He doesn’t look like it. You’d never go for a guy like him.” He looked ridiculous – and it wasn’t much of a shock to you. An idiot and a loser. You figured it’d only be a matter of time before he completely lost his mind. It was as if he was talking to himself. You lightly whacked his arm, trying to get some sense into him and snap him out, “What are you talking about, you rascal?”

He bores his eyes onto yours, “Whatever. I won’t let you, anyway. I’ll stay by your side you ‘till the day I die if I have to.” His eyes were set with firm determination, yet you didn’t bother pressing on - being sure he was up to no good, as usual.

He was speaking, but you couldn’t piece together what he was trying to imply. You didn’t really care either, he was a weird guy. Still, you were frustrated at him for just having to mess everything up for you again, “I can’t believe you,” you muttered incredulously, turning your heel to start walking away from him – you were done with this boy. 

“Hey – angel, no, wait. Where are you going –?”

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Admittedly, you didn’t hate Yang Jungwon as much when you had first met him, but the dislike started to grow at a profound rate when he started acting as a nuisance the more occasions he stuck around.

You weren’t exaggerating. Jungwon was just the epitome of overbearingly unable to understand social boundaries and your extreme dislike of having him in a 2-mile radius near you.

And you had your dignity, but Jungwon was an entirely different topic. Hiding from him in the gymnasium lockers was your last resort.

“Gotcha,” a cheery voice slides in beside you out of nowhere. Your heart almost jumped out of your body in fright, did he always have to jump-scare you out of nowhere?

“Seriously –?!”

“Stop playing hide and seek with me, angel. I’d love to play this game some other time with you but not now! We have somewhere else to go!” He has got to be shallow. Or dumb. Really dumb. You don’t know. As much as he loved blabbering endless nonsense around you that never seemed to make sense and was barely capable of leaving your side, you barely knew anything of him.

 You glowered at him, “I’m not playing hide and seek with you, you rascal! I’m obviously avoiding you –!”

He pats the top of your head before gently grabbing your hand, interrupting your nth effort to knock some sense into him. “Let’s go! It’s my turn for a Y/N day.” he points forward, leaving the library baggage hall that he found you hiding in. A Y/N day? What were you to him, an item? You groan, sounding sorrow. You really thought you got away from him this time. “Yah, we’re going to miss class!” 

You didn’t even know why you bothered.

Jungwon tilts his head, giving you a look as if to tell you to not worry, “We’re going to the river today, anyway. I brought my boombox with me,” he proudly tells you, and you aggravatedly sigh, feeling defeated. You swore you made all the measures needed to carefully avoid him, thinking you were finally left alone. 

“Why do you always bring me along?” you deadpan, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. He was probably going to insert another flirtatious line or something among those actions. Why don’t you ever leave me alone? 

You never really got it. Any of his interests, in fact. Why was he so determined to pursue you? There were countless of girls who were more of a ‘challenge’, and they were all the more interesting than you, with no doubt. What did he see in you? “Don’t you have any other friends?” you pulled a face at him. Jungwon has been by your side for such a long time that you grew accustomed to his presence, still, you weren’t going to admit that. 

“I don’t want to hang out with them, I want to go with you,” he simply explains, as if it was the most obvious answer.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, irritated, yet curious as you stress, “Why?”

He pauses, still looking ahead as he guides you forward, “Being around you makes me happy.” You simply glance at him and the look he has makes you shiver.

Jungwon was always straightforward. There was not an ounce of shame in that man’s soul. He said what was on his mind without any filter, and he also had a peculiar way of thinking, which in terms, you guess, made him intelligent. 

A beat passes, and you don’t find a retort to throw back at him.

Jungwon was like this beaming sunshine and busted in the dark hell you drowned yourself in.

Even if you enjoyed the darkness.

He always knew where to find you.

He found you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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.

Every year.

Every moment.

Jungwon was always there.

Yang Jungwon always knew where to find you, it was like his sixth sense. He could spot any of your bullshit or anything that you were hiding from him in a mile radius. There was no bother in hiding from him. He would always pop up by your side with a lopsided smile, carrying his guitar around and whining to you because he wanted to do something fun.

He was a bothersome child.

He was there in the times you didn’t want to see him, and he was there in the times where you needed someone but there was no one to turn to. It was as if you could summon him, you would always retort. 

Making up excuses was his specialty, he always seemed to disregard everything to tag along with you. He made crazily creative alibies that never seemed to run out just in order to be able to stay by your side.

Until one day he stopped.

Until one day he ran out of reasons.

So, where was he and what was he doing two years ago when he left you the moment you needed only him the most?

One day, you woke up and he was gone. You haven’t heard from him since. Not a trace left. Not a ghost left to haunt you. And somehow, that haunted you even more. 

Where did you go?

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

You liked the pastries that Jungwon used to make for you.

You remember that he made them for you a lot. Whenever you did a job well done on a simple test or if you overworked yourself, you always found a box of your favorite flavors on your desk or locker the following day. You didn’t have to question who it was from; he didn’t have to say anything.

You weren’t accustomed to having that kind of treatment. A simple job done is merely a simple job done. There hasn’t been much of a pat on a back or a congratulatory party for the little achievements, and that was completely fine you. However, that wasn’t the case for Jungwon.

Puzzled, you held up the mysterious box, “What is this?” 

“Sweets. Try them and tell me if you like them or not,” you could tell that he was anxious in anticipation. You try and hand it back over to him, “Oh, I’m not really in the mood for sweets, you can go ahead and give them to Minju though, she loves -”

“I didn’t make them for Minju,” he stands in front of you, sort of dejected and earnest. That was a new look on him. His face seemingly somewhat deflated, and somewhat embarrassed. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, refusing to meet your gaze as he shakes his head and changes his mind, trying to reach over the box to save his dignity in the situation.

Your eyes slightly widen, processing, “Wait,” you withdraw your extended arm, looking back at the box, pointing to it, “you made this?”

“It’s not really any -” Jungwon starts, reaching out for the box for him to take back but you swat his arm away.

“You should’ve said so, dumbass! I love things homemade,” you explain lightheartedly, your eyes glittering once you open the box to reveal damn beautifully decorated chocolates. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape from the blow, almost gasping.

He did that?

“You don’t have to act all that, you know,” Jungwon adds, and when you spare him a glace, you realize he’s being serious.

You roll your eyes at him, ready to punch his arm. Acting? He wishes! Was he just wanting more compliments from you, or did he really believe that his baking didn’t look like the prettiest things ever? They looked too beautiful to eat but you didn’t know if you could manage to restrain yourself from eating something that looked so delicious. “Shut up, look at that! Are you, like, a world-renowned baker or something?” 

As soon as nearly half of the box was eaten by you, you mentally felt something hit you, like a pang. Though you couldn’t exactly discern what. You felt something, a lurch of it. A swell of happiness, a swell of being seen, a swell of not being alone, not anymore. “Jungwon?” you looked at him.

He leaned his weight against the wall in the front of you, taking one of his earpieces off, “Mm.”

“Thanks,” It was casual, but you meant it. You really did. He could read it from your eyes. He probably spent a lot of time making these, you thought. Then you realize that’s all he ever did to you; spend his time on you. 

He’s sincere. A troublesome rascal, definitely. But sincere. It’s funny how it took him to just make some homemade sweets for you to see and realize, “you’re not that bad.”

You don’t know if you left him speechless, but you walk down the hallway with him staring after you. Words left unspoken.

Something new had changed then.

You didn’t know what to call it. 

But it felt good.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ meet me at our spot by the anxiety ]

THE NEXT MORNING

[8:04 am] unknown number: hi good morning

[8:04 am] unknown number: it’s jungwon :)

[8:05 am] unknown number: i just wanted to wish u a good day

[8:06 am] unknown number: i’m really proud of u

Four text messages to ruin the start of your day.

And in addition, there it was: the exact familiar box of pastries on the desk you were at yesterday that morning.

You nearly got yourself nauseous at the sight.

Were you dreaming? 

Blinking it off, you snap out of it. You scoff, Jungwon was more shameless and a lot bolder than you thought. What was the box supposed to signify? ‘I’m proud of you’?, ‘I’m sorry’?, or an ‘I miss you’? Either way, you never knew Yang Jungwon could ever stoop so low.

Two years and the first thing he does is give you a box of sweets, was he thinking it’d pay back all the shit he pulled? Bribe you with sweets and suddenly everything would be okay?

Your resentment for him grew even more.

Anger was a better feeling to experience other than any of the other emotions.

At the side of your eye, you could see Jungwon. You pretend not to, and you try so hard. You don’t miss the glances he throws you, he was probably waiting for your response.

Surely, he should expect from you that the response was going to be nothing good. Does he know you at all?

Throwing it away seemed over the top, but you didn’t know what the rest of your options were. You hesitate, eating it would only make him believe that everything’s okay. And in case Jungwon didn’t get the memo: everything is not okay. 

This won’t hurt you.

You toss the box to someone else; your hands slightly freeze on its own for a moment when you realize Jungwon was watching. Only for a moment.

You weren’t taking his bait.

You didn’t want it.

You don’t look at him, and you don’t bother to see his reaction. Biting down your tongue, you jabbed your pen down the desk forcefully - you ignore the sense of guilt. He asked for it.

It takes a bit more effort to remain nonchalant this time.

Jungwon was getting in your nerves. Again.

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LATER

You were dragged into a library group filled with people you barely knew of by Ningning and Seoyeon. You recognized Jake Sim from chemistry class, and a few others that you weren’t entirely confident you knew the name of. Jungwon was there. Of course, he had to be.

Though you were an expert at turning invitations and confessions down, you really weren’t much of the action type. Some would call you the ‘all bark, no bite’ type, but that was mostly because people who ensued and pressed on having it their way was just stubborn.

Most of your life, people went along your bark, it was rare that anyone went against it – but not impossible. Yang Jungwon.

The name flashes by your mind involuntarily as if it was a burn.

As if your mind works on its own, you find yourself staring at him – he paid no interest in the conversation as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, bored. The only word he had ever said was when he had assertively stated that he wanted the seat that was close to yours. He had also joined the conversation and firmly voted against Jake sitting next to you. What a problem boy.

[02:44 pm] yang jungwon: u look good today

You were bored, but definitely not bored enough to be willing to immerse yourself into that mess.

You were entirely out of the group’s topic of conversation yourself, immersing yourself all in your head and thoughts until a girl named Naeun – you think – waggles her brows at you. “What about you, ms. ‘most-popular-with-guys’?”

“How many of them did you turn down this week?” Lee adds into it lightheartedly, poking fun.

Jungwon’s attention is immediately averted to you – and you hate that you can feel his gaze boring into your face.

You feel more uncomfortable than ever, trying to argue with them, “What? That’s not true—!”

Ningning’s eyes glint in mischievousness, taking in your denial as something you were embarrassed about as she joins into the conversation. But it wasn’t, not entirely. 

You were highly uncomfortable. “Don’t deny it. You’re more than just ‘popular’ with guys. I swear I saw with my own eyes at least two guys try and hit you up on this exact library alone from the past few days.”

You could hear chortled laughter from around you.

You know none of the voices belonged to or were from Jungwon.

You’d rather suffocate.

“I heard you were pretty popular with the guys during your high school years too!” Seoyeon chirped. You felt nauseated. Where did they even hear that information? You incredulously retorted to yourself.

“D’you date any of them?” Lun from literature class pipes in, interested. You feel your face turn hot against your will. “Any hotties you can introduce me to?” someone adds into it suggestively, clearly enjoying the topic of discussion.

Your face starts to sour, reeking of irritation.

“Ooh! I remember hearing Y/N dated a guy during high school. That’s probably why she wasn’t able to date much?” Ningning suggests, and you wanted to kick her out of the room. Was anyone just not able to pick out on social cues? Was everyone not able to notice how uncomfortable you looked?

Seoyeon’s eyes enlarged in alarm, “Y/N dated before?” Despite the distressing situation, you almost slipped out a laugh, you were always known for your strong dislike towards romance and men and you liked it that way. You guess the impression still hasn’t changed.

He’s in the exact same room right now, you wanted to spit out. Your face hardens, but you don’t say anything. 

“What’s the big deal? We were barely anything anyway.”

Ningning does not get your clue, instead, she looks more confused than ever. “Huh? From what I heard; you both were pretty serious.”

“You never told me anything about him,” Seoyeon complains, grabbing your arm and repeatedly swinging it around. With everyone’s attention on you, your usual ‘i-hate-everyone’ façade falls into dust.

You snort, keeping your tone casual, “About what? He was barely anyone special, in the first place.”

A bunch of unanimous curious ‘oohs’ were heard around the room. “Oohlala, spill. What made the relationship end?”

You take a thoughtful pause, as if it was the first time you were giving it thought, “He was selfish.” A shrug.

You ensure that the whole table hears your answer, especially him. Ningning scrunches her nose in distaste at your answer, “Ugh, typical. Boys really aren’t shit.”

“You’d give your entire world to them, and they decide that it’s not enough. Discontented assholes.” Lee comments with a bunch of insults thrown away without regard, and the Seoyeon pretends to vomit at the mention of boys. “Dirtbags. His loss,” is all she says.

You really don’t have any idea of what to do in this situation.

A strangled noise escapes Jungwon, and he covers it up with loud coughs. He looked like he’s just been badly burned, and you try to casually shift in your seat. The rest of the group takes it as a cue to ask him the same question as well, figuring he wanted to be included.

“And what about you, newbie?” Jake notices, an effort to try to get Jungwon to feel included. “Ever dated before?”

He stares blankly in response. A glance your way, and it takes a fraction of a second for you to avert your eyes away. You hope no one caught that. A moment. Or two. Until, “No, never.” Casually, with a helpless shrug before his attention was back on his phone. He doesn’t even regard that you were ever a part of his past.

Your insides clenches on their own.

That was it. The signal. You were back to being notoriously known for your cold behavior, good grades, and popular game with men, while Jungwon was back into his reputation of being a cute and care-free affectionate and loveable brat that would never do anyone wrong. 

Everything was back the way it started.

Rewind. A start over. Where Jungwon doesn’t get to see the nurturing, caring, childish, and mischievous side of you, and where you never got to see the depth to him: his coolness and his silence. The eyebrow lifts, his head-pats, his reliability, his loyalty, his promises, his stories, his determination – everything about him that everyone missed, that was simply nothing now.

We’ll never be those kids again.

Your phone buzzes.

[02:52 pm] yang jungwon: i figured u didn’t want them to know.

[02:54pm] yang jungwon: are you mad?

Both your eyes meet in the midst of the others bickering with each other.

All the remnants of history erased.

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

[ JUNGWON'S POV: 1 YEAR AGO ]

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” she skips, twirling in front of him, “What d’you think? I figured you might like this outfit.” She had an annoying voice, and was definitely way too clingy. Black long hair or something, honestly, any of the faces he’s seen were all only just blank and empty to him.

Jungwon doesn’t even regard her existence.

“C’mon ~” The girl drags, tugging at his arm. He doesn’t even know her name. He’s probably crossed by her more than a couple times with the way she was acting.

She was annoying. Not like you at all. No one was like you.

Jungwon was already in a sour mood. “You’ve been stuck at the couch all night, you lame-dummy!” She points a dragging finger to his chest, “No one wants to be a lame-dummy, c’mon, come with me! It’ll be fun,” she tries to persuade in a sing-song voice, inviting him in.

It doesn’t shake him by the least.

He shakes his head, shortly emitting a single scoff in irritation as he jerks away the hand on his shoulder. His tense facial features say everything. Without saying another word, he chooses to leave the room quietly and awkwardly without bidding goodbye to the other friends who invited him.

These parties were useless. Everything was useless. Every day was too boring and empty without meaning.

He had no place here.

This wasn’t where he belonged.

He damn well still belonged to that person he always has belonged to.

You.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: hello bo ;]

[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: i hope u had a good day :)

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’m always here if u need me

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: just so you know 

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’ll always be there

[09:20 pm] yang jungwon: and i hope i crossed your mind at least once..

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A FEW DAYS LATER

You were beyond thankful to have Seoyeon around him to save yourself the awkward interactions.

She was the icebreaker. The only factor that allowed you to act as if Jungwon wasn’t there in the first place and ignore his existence. Given that she was an icebreaker, she was also clueless. 

She had no idea of the hatred you had for him - or the reluctance to look his way, much more interact with him. It wasn’t her fault, but you wish you rather didn’t have to explain the situation to her as the only option for her to stop trying to get you and Jungwon to talk.

“Wasn’t yesterday fun? It was nice having new people around,” she brings up as a conversation starter. Jungwon was minding his business working on his project on the side, the both of you had your free time. You politely smile at her, and you know it looks genuine. Explaining things to her wasn’t ideal – you shudder that the possibilities that would happen once you’d confess the situation.

Maybe Jungwon was a private secret of your past that you were never meant to bring up to those in your present.

“That reminds me, who’s the group you hang out with? We really should hang out more.” She slightly frowns before adding, “You’re really fun!”

“You too,” you add with a half grin, and you genuinely mean it. You kindly nod in agreement with a laugh, desperate to end the topic – but Seoyeon doesn’t cease her intent of giving up her first question.

She smiles at you expectantly as she awaits for an answer, and though you know she’s really just trying to make friends, if awkward topics were all that she was going to be bringing up around you, you would rather not converse with her at all. “Oh uh, that question,” you forced a laugh that comes out awkward, “no one else, really.”

Her lips form a small ‘o’ shape, apologizing for intruding. She softly gasps, alarmed, “Really? To be honest, I think it’s because everyone’s intimidated of you. It was until a few seconds ago that the whole campus figured you had countless of friend groups. Me included.”

You furiously shake your head at her, making a dreadful face in which she giggles at, “Oh God, no.” you comment, “it’s really just me,” you pause, “and Riki of course. Riki. Me and Riki. No one else. Kind of a loner,” you coughed out an awkward ramble, but Seoyeon never even seemed to mind.

“That’s cool, neither way! I get to have you to myself,” she teases lightheartedly as she links her arm around yours.

You were too flustered to notice that Jungwon had heard everything.

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THAT EVENING

[10:21 pm] yang jungwon: hi love

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: you must be tired i hope u rest up tonight :)

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: i’ve really missed u

[11:49 pm] yang jungwon: goodnight love, sweet dreams :) ♡

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By the next day, at the end of class, you’re forced to work with Jungwon at the library for the afternoon. Seoyeon was running late by fifteen minutes. This was the only time you didn’t mind.

The air is cold, and the tension was cutthroat, you could suffocate, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Starting a friendly conversation? Why even bother?

You decided to ask him straightforward the moment he tries to initiate conversation by asking you a question, cutting him off, “What are you pulling at?” you blankly stared at him, pokerfaced. Maybe you went off too aggressive, but his face slacks; he was definitely accustomed to your whole act of ignoring his existence, and probably never expected you to even spare a glance his way.

A long pause before he regains his composure, “What do you mean?” his voice is a lot quieter and controlled compared to the past. Now that you notice it, he’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s no longer the bright happy-go-lucky rascal that you were once familiar with. No longer the one who didn’t care about grades, but the one sitting beside you at one of the best universities. He’s … matured a lot.

“The messages?” cutting directly into it, your eyes narrowed on him, “what are you trying to pull at?” you interrogate him. Tell me lies. Tell me the truth. Tell me you’re leaving. Tell me you’re staying.

Surprise is written all over his face, catching him off gaurd, “They’re nothing,” he clears his throat, words getting caught in the midst of it. “I just thought … I, um,” he trailed off, avoiding direct eye contact.

Your hard gaze doesn’t falter, patience running thin. “Spit it out, Yang.”

He winces at your tone, and you wished you hadn’t seen that. “I just thought that you needed it. Not needed it exactly, but, well, I assumed - I wanted to let you know -” he doesn’t finish his sentence, but starts another one instead, “I just miss you,” he states, and he’s looking at you - you remember that kind of look. The kind of look that would once tug at your heartstrings.  

Once.

You don’t know what Yang Jungwon is pulling at.

Hm. 

You stare down hard at him - eyes narrowed, prospecting, judging, and surveying. You no longer tremble at his words. You don’t falter. Have you grown immune to them? Maybe you were sincerely and truly over him after all.

He was pulling at his charms. His thoughtfulness - the little aspects that’d make you believe that he actually cared; the things you so easily fell into. Not anymore. Not after you believed, once. 

Once was enough. It’s all a simple game to him, isn’t it?

The day you break down in front of him and let him hold the strings again would be the day you would die.

Not showing a flicker of emotion, you nonchalantly tsked, irritated, “Don’t bother again, will you?” 

Jungwon doesn’t say anything, but you feel his lingering stare.

Your settling glare on the textbook in front of you could burn holes. You let him go – you dismiss him, but he never leaves his spot.

Why does he always linger behind?

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[01:03pm] yang jungwon: i don’t know if we should be alone together

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[02:54pm] yang jungwon: i really can’t control myself when you’re around

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[04:23pm] yang jungwon: i miss the old you

[04:26pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

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How much was it going to take for you to admit that you felt the same?

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[05:33pm] yang jungwon: just so you know i didn’t mean it that way

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: i just noticed that you’ve changed

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: of course you’ve changed

[05:35pm] yang jungwon: you don’t look at me the same anymore

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[04:47am] yang jungwon: hi bo

[04:47am] yang jungwon: im sorry but i cant

[04:48am] yang jungwon: i really cant let you go

message delivered

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A FEW WEEKS LATER

It didn’t take much for her to piece together. She noticed the pattern of behavior from you, your sour and aggravated persona, and Jungwon’s desperate efforts, then figured you were probably his ex.

“You know,” she clicks her tongue, “the thing about love and hate is that there’s a very thin line between them.”

She squints, fingers fiddling around with a penny as she tries to explain, “they’re two sides of the same coin.”

You made a face. She’s been going about this for hours and showed no sign of stopping. Whining, you turn her way, “what are you taking about this time?”

A grin. She raises both her brows in surrender, “You guys got a lot of unfinished business.”

You give her a look, unimpressed.

“The guy nearly snapped his head yesterday the moment he heard you laugh because he wanted to know what you were laughing about,” Seoyeon stares down at you steadily, provoked that you managed to toss the fact over too easily.

You throw her a crumpled piece of paper, and she easily dodges your throw. “Sure.” you snort, barely feigning any interest.

“Cut him some slack! He was your ex for goodness’ sake, some feelings for him still have to be there at some point. You can’t hate your ex that much without actually-maybe-probably loving them,” she singsongs teasingly. This was lighthearted, you knew, but. 

You deadpanned. Feelings. 

She has got to be serious.

Some feelings still have to be there.

Your heart didn’t feel anything.

Not anymore.

She stares at you in the silence, faking astonishment.

Her mouth forms a small ‘o’, “You’ve got to be serious.”

You only blink at her.

“Stop … don’t you feel anything for him anymore? Or is it like … nothing at all?” Of course, she was talking about him, you knew that - but why were you suddenly caught off guard? This was crazy.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

No one has ever asked you this question.

How were you going to answer that?

You resented him.

You were angry. More than pissed.

You hated everything about him.

Your face scrunches up in disgust at the thought, but you answer her question after a pause, “One thing I know for sure,” you start casually, pausing in consideration, “is that I don’t want to see that annoying face of his again.”

You meant every word, this time.

You were willing to do whatever it took for that to happen.

At that moment, Seoyeon then concludes that the both of you had unfinished business. Jungwon was clearly not over you, anyone with a mile radius could see that. The boy was drop-dead crazy for you.

The more you try and repress feelings, the larger it grows.

How cliché does that sound?

She tilts her head to the side, glancing your way. But in a way, she knew it wasn’t one-sided, either.

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ all too well by taylor swift ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

“Jungwon?” you whispered incredulously. Rubbing your eyes due to your half-asleep state, you leaned your frame against your door with your worry starting to alarm you awake. “What’re you doing here?”

Standing at your apartment door, your boyfriend appeared rugged, his eyes tired and drowsy. You noticed his clothes were still of what you saw him wear yesterday morning. your heart ached to see him in such a state, concluding he had spent the whole day producing, working, and overworking himself without rest. You hated whenever he did this to himself.

Seeing you frown, Jungwon pulls you to his embrace, wrapping you around his arms with a contented sigh, “Just wanted to see my baby,” he mumbles out incoherently, fighting through sleep, “I’ve missed you.”

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You clung onto him, your face still at a cloudy state of haze – unreservedly astounded. Meanwhile on the other hand, Jungwon continues to laugh over your dumbfounded look. He pinches the sides of your cheeks, cooing over at you. As you try to wriggle yourself away, you found yourself embracing your figure back into his arms to squeeze his waist tightly in fear that he might disappear. He teases you at the action, lightheartedly calling you his little koala, but you don’t miss the endearing tone to his voice – or the way his breath hitches from your embrace.

“You’re here,” you managed to breathe out to yourself, burying your forehead against his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you desperately hoped to the gods above that the moment you opened them, everything wasn’t just going to turn out as another dream of yours. You could barely process much more comprehend what was going on, ‘he’s here, he’s here, he’s here’ were the only notions you could formulate by the slightest, chanting through your brainwork repeatedly for you to comprehend. Humorously, you didn’t wonder how he was possibly here, or why. He shouldn’t be - he was too busy. 

You didn’t think about the fact that he’s supposed to be halfway across the world working on his production, and definitely not here. Inhaling his scent, your ongoing worries and stress had seemed to evaporate, your form relaxing almost immediately. He smelled like home.

The loud chatters and distinctive outside noise from people passing by that surrounded the both of you, along the fact that the both of you were in a public place – all had seemed to drown out and appear forgotten. You clung to his warm figure after months of being apart, out of all the days you’d secretly dreamed about him surprising you, you never figured today was going to be that day. You clasped onto him even tighter, your smile growing wider by the second, it’s been quite some time since you ever felt half this happy.

He let out a low vibrating laugh with your face pressed against his chest, engulfing you tightly around his hold whilst swaying the both of you side to side. It was little moments and acts of efforts like these that mattered most to you. You drowned yourself at the rhythm and sound of his heartbeat that spoke the words the both of you already knew; he had missed you.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

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Maybe you were always too busy for Yang Jungwon when the both of you dated.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe that was the reason why.

Or maybe he simply always seeking attention from you, constantly and childishly. He complained about you studying too much as he started sulking alone was, he wandered around the place ‘miserably’, while you were trying to place your focus on your book, refusing to give into him again.

A little later and he tossed the fact that he had to pick up some errands, and you volunteered to help accompany him since he mentioned that he’d only be out for a while.

But after picking up the things he had acquired through his errands, the rain was against your luck and poured heavily. You cursed at yourself, having brought no umbrella with you. Looking at Jungwon, you could judge immediately by then that he didn’t bring one as well.

“Running for it sounds pretty good,” you suggested with a beam on your face, but you noticed how Jungwon huffed in disagreement, not approving of the idea; worrying that the rain might get you hurt or sick as he starts pulling out deliberate excuses and reasons.

“It’s too slippery out in the rain, you might fall,”

“Car accidents happen more often in the rain,”

“You’ll get sick, can you afford to be sick at a time like this?”

You ignored all his protests when you decided to just audaciously leave the store entrance before walking into the rain without any given warning.

He doesn’t say anything, and when you glanced back at him in question, you immediately noticed how visibly irritated he was with you misbehaving and ignoring him. Jungwon was always overly protective over you.

Though you appreciated it, his over-protectiveness wasn’t something you exactly needed at this time of your mid-terms. You just needed to study, and Jungwon could simply work on his music. The place you were at wasn’t too far from home, so it wasn’t exactly too absurd to make a run for it. 

His eyes zeroed on you, giving no humor in his eyes, “Come back in here.”

You looked at him with fake-pleading eyes, “I left my notes back home,” you frowned.

“I don’t care. You are not getting sick.”

He wanted to sit the rain out, of course he did. But you didn’t know when the rain was going to stop, or if it ever showed any signs of stopping, in the first place. Just by your boyfriend’s tone itself, you knew you got yourself in trouble. That was not a good sign, he would always pull some crazy idea that would always try to teach you a lesson. 

You didn’t move an inch from your spot.

Jungwon hurdled at you once he realizes that you were being stubborn, wrapping his arms around your waist securely regardless of the hefty downpour of rain, “Step another foot further and I’ll make sure you’ll never be touching your beloved notes again.”

“Ugh, Yang Jungwon, are you crazy?” you argued, trying to untangle yourself from him but his firm grip wouldn’t let you go.

“Jungwon, I’m serious! I really need to study, I have my exams—!”

“Aish, you’d be on your deathbed, and you wouldn’t even think of me at all, you would only care about studying!” he contested nonsensically as he dramatically complains.

You scowled at his comment, your face souring as you try wriggling yourself out of his grasp even harder, “Yah, you rascal!”

“Come back inside and I’ll let you go,” he conditions, a small grin showing that he had won. You glower at him, but having no choice but to subit and wait the next two hours by the porch of the store for the rain to subside. He covers you by towering in front of you, ensuring that you weren’t going to get hit by the rain.

Jungwon was a lot of maintenance - a lot of people would say, but he was adorable.

And most of all, he was yours. 

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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PRESENT [ JUNGWON'S POV ]

Jungwon spends the rest of his night at school fixing up your science project, without an ounce of sleep.

He finds Sunoo dropping by the room, slightly jumping in surprise at the sight of him there. He covers his chest with his hand, “What the hell are you doing here?” he lightheartedly scolds him.

But he pauses squinting at him, “Were you . . .” his eyes widen, “Dude, did you spend the entire night here?” he asks Jungwon, bewildered. “Doing . . .” he tilts his head, taking a peek, and his mouth hangs open as he finally pieces things together, “-Y/N’s science lab project . . .?”

Sunoo’s eyes almost budge out of his sockets. “Isn’t this what Y/N’s been worrying crazy about –? How did you –?”

He couldn’t exactly admit that he’s overheard you complaining about your project and begging others to help you with it miserably. He knew you always took your grades seriously, but, how could he explain this to Sunoo of all people?

Jungwon looks conflicted, immediately standing away from your project. He was finished wish it, anyway. He just needed to get here undetected by you. Kim Sunoo was a problem, however. There was no way Sunoo wasn’t not telling you about this.

“Don’t tell her I did this,” Jungwon tells him, reading Sunoo’s next moves.

His eyes dart from the project to Jungwon. He frowns, confused. “Why not?”

Jungwon hesitates with his words, being careful. “Just because. Don’t.” What the hell can he say? The bell rings, and he panics. 

“She has a hell of an ego, you know this. Tell her you fixed this or something. I don’t know. Make some shit up.”

He scurries out the lab but hangs behind at the entrance door for a few seconds.

Jungwon emphasizes what he’s told Sunoo. “I’m counting on you, bro.”

He slips away like a ghost.

Sunoo tells you that Ningning and Jake helped with your final lab project, and you believed it – eyes sparkling with relief and complete utter gratitude. You wondered how they got to finish the project in a day. They were the chemistry experts of the class, anyway – who were you to question them?

Sunoo sees Jungwon at the side of the room looking at you and your project. He watches him watch you. How happy you were with the project, and the endless showering of compliments. Was he really just . . . not going to tell you?

Sunoo takes a look at both you and Jungwon and scratches his head in utter confusion. What was going on with the both of you?

He has no idea what that boy is hiding.

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A FEW DAYS LATER IN THAT WEEK

Jungwon really was getting in your nerves.

On your way to class, you did nothing but mind your own business when he swirls out of nowhere and pushes you aside, refraining you from entering the classroom. You furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, trying to wriggle away from his grasp, but his grip stays firm. He’s holding the sides of both your arms to let you stay in place, looking anxious and rushed. “Wait.”

“Yang Jungwon, what the hell?”

He tries to find words to say, but he can’t find any. “I . . . like the color of your hair. Did you dye it?”

Your stare is blank. “What?”

“I need recommendations. I might use it too, so –“

“This is my natural hair color.” you deadpan, without an ounce of friendliness, “now if you’ll excuse me –”

“No! Gah,” he lets out a frustrated noise, rushed, “. . . the speech report! I need help in –“

He was messing with you. He had to be.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you try to breathe in calmly, but you were talking through your gritted teeth. “You submitted your speech report last week,” you hissed, your patience running thin.

You finally wriggle yourself free from his grasp, and that was when the panic was evident in Jungwon’s features.

You barely get to move an inch before, “Do you still have hang-ups on me?” He rushes out of nowhere, an attempt of desperation.

What?

To say that you were at a loss for words was an understatement.

You freeze. Staring at him, dumbfounded.

Were you simply a joke to him?

What was he saying? He was desperate, willing to just have your attention anywhere else. You could not enter the room. That was his plan.

You were trying to regain composure. Clamping your jaw down hard, your eyes narrowed. “Please, kindly fuck off.”

You stalk away, pissed off.

As soon as he ensured that you were walking the opposite direction, and Jungwon heaves a small sigh of relief. At least.

He budges the door classroom open – the room he had noticed that a couple of asshats were trying to pull on harsh pranks on – and immediately, an old tray of leftover food spills from above, falling flat on the floor instead as Jungwon dodges it from anticipating this beforehand.

And you piece thing and thing together.

This was what he was driving you away from?

Because that could’ve been you.

His eyes settle on the group of bullies seated at the end of the room. He cracks his knuckles. Jungwon’s eyes have never been so deadly.

Jungwon comes in class later with a purple bruise coloring his upper left cheek, and a busted lip.

You don’t ask him the story, but instead, you assume the worst in him. Like you always do.

He’s up to no good.

He always was.

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[08:12pm] yang jungwon: are you going?

[08:21pm] you: ?

[08:21pm] yang jungwon: oh hi love

[08:22pm] yang jungwon: are you coming to gyeonju tower tomorrow? i wanted to tell you in person today but you seemed like u were in a rush to leave

[08:24pm] you: ? what do you want

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: i wanted to explain things

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: and explain myself

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[08:53pm] yang jungwon: i want to make things right

[08:54pm] yang jungwon: please let me, bo

[08:54pm] you: im busy.

[08:57pm] yang jungwon: i’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at 1pm

[09:00pm] you: i said im not going.

[09:02pm] yang jungwon: just one chance, please

[09:04pm] yang jungwon: one last one

read

You didn’t care, you weren’t going.

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THE FOLLOWING DAY

You’ve decided that you wouldn’t go.

You won’t go.

You won’t go, end of discussion.

You spent the last night considering it until two in the morning. You’ve finalized your decision. “This is a no-brainer. Who does he think he is? I’m not giving him the satisfaction,” you rant morely to yourself - it was almost as if you werer trying to convince yourself instead.

You tug at the ends of your hair in frustration, hissing. Both Ningning and Seoyeon watches you in silent amusement after being told of the situation. The two were the only ones who knew about you and Jungwon, and the only two who you’ve been ranting to for the past two hours.

“I’m not going,” you repeat aggravatedly, exclaiming as you fling your arms. You pace around the room. 

Ningning languidly lazes around the chair as you frantically pace around the room, “So you’ve told us for the past forty six times,” she can’t help but comment, fighting away her grin. You scowl at her, grabbing the strap of your bag to sling it around your shoulder.

“You guys are annoying. I’m leaving.”

Both Seoyeon and Ningning stare after you, waving you goodbye at your stressed state.

Ningning props herself up with her elbows, leaning her cheek with the palm of her hands as soon as you’ve left the room. She stares at Seoyeon, who was mindlessly scrolling through her phone, “She’s definitely going, isn’t she?”

Seoyeon tosses the bag of chips that she’s been hogging Ningning’s way - which she accepts immediately, munching down on the ones on her palm with disinterest, “Yep.”

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LATER, 1 PM

You tug awkwardly at your sleeve, eyes searching for a certain figure in mind as they bunglingly dart around the place.

So, maybe you really did end up going to the tower. Just to check things out. That was it. And maybe see if he was there. If he really showed up. Hear what he wanted to say if it was important. Nothing more. You felt bad just leaving him alone - you weren’t like him, intentionally leaving someone on for hours to wait for you. 

You had a conscience. You simply showed up because you didn’t want to be burdened by it. 

You don’t know how long you waited on the first half of the period under the heat of the sun from the tower, but by the time you take out your phone to check the time, it was half past one in the afternoon.

Tick-tok.

Tick-tok.

You stare at your phone’s lock screen, expecting a text from Jungwon to pop up any second to inform you that he was probably running late. Anything.

An hour passes by.

You figure you’d give him another thirty minutes. Just another thirty minutes. If he wasn’t going to show up, you didn’t care anymore. You would leave.

It was past 30 minutes.

Another hour passes by.

Until rain starts to lightly drizzle.

Until clouds start to darken.

Until your legs start to ache.

And until you were soaking and clothes drenched with water in the pouring heavy rain.

Again.

Until it dawns on you.

Jungwon isn’t here.

He wasn’t coming.

He was never going to.

And there you were, standing alone stupidly – a fool. A fool who never learned her lesson after two years.

He was enjoying this; toying with you, he’s got to be.

You don’t know why you really expected anything else from him.

A heavy exhale.

You don’t know why you hoped you did.

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You get a call from Jungwon by the evening. You were dumbly weak enough to easily get manipulated to answer the phone.

He sounded frantic, “Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -” You wish you could believe him.

“Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you sound too monotone for your words to sound like you meant them.

“I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -” No more promises. No more, Jungwon. I can’t take anymore.

You harshly cut him off, oppressive. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

You still had your dignity. Lies were all that you had left. You’d lie just for Jungwon to not get that sense of satisfaction from you. You wouldn’t let him.

He is silent, “Yeah, I know.”

You inhale, vexed. Your eyes flicker around the room, feeling flighty with apprehension. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?” you made an effort to sound as casual as possible bringing it up, as if you didn’t care. As if you didn’t spend the whole afternoon drenched in pouring rain waiting for him.

A long silent pause again. You could tell he was hesitating to answer.

He tries to let out a lighthearted laugh as he waves it off, "It’s nothing.” 

It was nothing, again. It’s always nothing. Were you ever something - anything - to him?

It takes a moment for you to register his response. How effortlessly care-free he was about it. Your tone appears tight, “Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.” You didn’t know what else to say other than stressing that you never came. That you didn’t care.

Lie.

“Oh,” is what Jungwon replies with, he sounded distracted - like his mind wasn’t in the conversation. He wasn’t interested in talking to you anyway, why did he bother calling? 

You grit at your teeth, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon.”

You don’t know if he’s even listening to you, you start to question. It takes long for him to respond, “I know.”

He was being as short with his responses as ever. Was this what he called explaining himself? You doubt if he ever cared about making it up to you in the first place. You try to hide your disappointment in your tone with impatience, “Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I’m busy.”

You don’t wait for his reply.

You immediately end the call and toss your phone as far as you could.

You hope that was worth it for Jungwon.

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[ JUNGWON’S POV ] . . . what really happened

Jungwon woke up three hours earlier that day.

When Jungwon was getting himself dressed, a boy from across the city was still sleeping through his alarm that he wasn’t able to set the night before. Meanwhile, a girl was waiting somewhere in the city’s lobby, waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up.

While that happened, Jungwon was on his way to a jewelry shop to buy you a gift. He was beyond excited to see you. The boy from across the city was still sleeping, but the girl’s boyfriend eventually came to pick her up. On the other side, Jungwon had forgotten his credit card, and had no other option to pay by cash.

By this time, the sleeping boy’s mother barges into the boy’s room to wake him up as he was late for class – and asking him if he spent another late night playing with his friends. The girl in her boyfriend’s car receives a text from her ex while her boyfriend stops by to pick up the cake they ordered for their anniversary.

Jungwon was nearly at the Gyeonju tower when the boy who was running late for class stumbled out of the house, got on his bike, and peddled as fast as he could. The girl was already texting her ex-boyfriend by this time, and before she could tuck her phone away as soon as her boyfriend got into the car, the boyfriend had caught her already.

All the while the couple slowly started to argue about her talking to her ex, Jungwon was stuck in traffic and anxiously waiting – frustrated. Though he had more than an hour to spare, he wanted to see you as quickly as possible. This was the moment of his life that meant most to him. The boy who was running late took a wrong turn because he was not on the right state of mind, still half-asleep.

The couple argued all the way to the girlfriend’s parents’ house while the boy in the bike running late was trying to find his way out of the unfamiliar place, completely flustered. Jungwon had already arrived at Gyeonju tower, parking his car before trying to fix up his hair. He never really cared about how he looked like, but Jungwon’s nerves were jittering. This was the first time he was so anxious to see you.

And finally, at the same time, the boy was too distracted to see the couple’s car in front of him – as well as the couple, as they were still too busy arguing. Jungwon had just gotten out of the car, crossing the road.

It all happened too quickly.

If the son had set his alarm the day before and wasn’t running late for his class, if the girl hadn’t picked up the call from her ex-boyfriend, if couple hadn’t been arguing while the boyfriend was driving, or if Jungwon didn’t take his time in the car mirror trying to make sure he looked good for you - then maybe he would’ve gotten to meet you that night.

Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten into that car accident.

Maybe none of this would’ve be happening right now.

Life is a series of multiple interactions, they said.

The next situation Jungwon finds himself in was lying still – unable to move – in the hospital emergency room with blood – his blood? – covered all over his clothes, and when he gains the smallest bit of energy to barely open his eyes, he feels like he’s lost everything all over again.

In spite of all the events, he remembers you.

Your smile.

And his promise.

But he blacks out.

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The moment Jungwon awakes into consciousness, his first thought isn’t what he was doing in an emergency room hospital, all alone. It isn’t wondering why he had blood all over his clothes, or why his body physically hurt too much for him to move.

His first thought was you.

His first thought was always going to be you. Where were you? What-? He sees the small bag settled beside him, squinting at it - before realizing it was for you. For the meeting. Today. Shit. In less than half a second, he ignores the pins and needles of his skin feeling like it was being stretched out just to reach his phone and dial your number. 

“Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -”

Your tone interrupts him midway, seemingly clipped and tight. “Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” were you mad? Guessing by the tone of your voice, you seemed upset. Lord, he begged for that one chance you gave him and he had to go through this out of all the occasions?

You pinches the bridge of his nose after running a hand through his hair, cursing inwardly. How many more chances could you give him? You would never believe him ever again. “I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -” 

Your response hits him right in the gut, harder and more painful than any of the stitches and bandages he had being freshly reopened. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

His throat constricts, eyes lowering as the grip on the phone tightens, “Yeah, I know.” He hangs his head low. 

You shrug it off with disinterest, your tone indifferent. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?”

He hesitates, glancing down at the patches of bandages and stitches. He doesn’t try to explain. He doesn’t want you to know. What could he say to cover things up? He tries to avoid sounding suspicious with a lighthearted laugh, “It’s nothing.”

God, it sounded fake.

Your indifference rings through his mind over and over again. Did you really not care about him anymore? Did you really mean it when you said you weren’t going to go? A sharp stab in the heart each time the thought rings through him.

A pause.

“Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.”

“Oh,” was all Jungwon could respond with, he was beginning to feel dizzy - overwhelmed and exhausted. A sharp buzz rang deaf through his ears.

The room started to spin as you continued through the call – unaware, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon,” you remind him. Was it really the end?

Has he finally lost you?

He doesn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t deny the fact that it hurt. Everything hurts. Fuck. A long pause, “I know.”

“Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I'm busy,” you harshly end things, not bothering to expant the conversation or on the details. You don’t push him. You don’t care.

The line went dead.

A piece of him along with it died too.

Jungwon sits at one of the emergency room’s beds alone and he realizes that the hospital could heal all his physical wounds and scars, but he doesn’t think the internal pain he’s feeling could be treated.

A nurse that was passing by finds him passed out, unconscious, and unresponsive only long minutes later.

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A WEEK LATER

Initially, you had planned to keep away from Jungwon at all costs the moment classes started again. He could suffer all he needed.

But.

You don’t see Jungwon.

Not that you cared if he was around - it was a relief to you that you didn’t have to deal with him, but didn’t you .. deserve an explanation? 

No.

That’s right. An explanation from Jungwon for ditching you was something you would never get. That hasn’t changed, and you were a fool for believing otherwise. 

You repeatedly sneak glances by his desk - anywhere, for a sign of him. It was useless to ask anyone else. His friends? When had Jungwon ever tried talking to somebody that wasn’t you? 

Not that you ever took notice, either. 

It’s been a week.

Seconds tick by slowly, and lectures drag in what seems like hours. It comes to the point where you almost decide on texting his number and demanding where he was. It took every part of yourself to manage to not do so.

Your notifications remained empty this time.

No messages. No calls.

He’s gone again.

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THREE WEEKS LATER [JUNGWON’S POV ]

With a fractured arm and multiple wounds and stitches, Jungwon had to opt to wait three weeks before he was able to attend classes again.

He only looks forward to seeing your face.

To explain everything to you.

He messed up again.

Maybe you were looking for him? It’s been three weeks, maybe you had wondered for a fraction where he went all of a sudden? Maybe you were worried? Maybe you were concerned? Or maybe you didn’t care? Maybe you were celebrating right now?

He flinches that the thought. 

He spots you by the hallways after his hour long search around the campus. You barely looked bothered at all. That was fine, Jungwon reminded himself. He walks his way towards you with the gift he had bought you weeks prior, when the accident had happened. The gift he had protected with his life to save, and had held on for weeks to give to you. If he wasn’t going to explain things, he at least wanted to give you the gift he had picked for you. 

He thinks you’d look pretty in it. 

However, as soon as he tries to open his mouth to speak to you once he was close enough for you to hear him, you coldly ignore him entirely. You pack up your things once you hear the bell, ringing just in time for classes to start. You barely even spare him a single glance.

You walk past him like was invincible.

Like you couldn’t care any less of what happened to him.

It turns out, you were never worried at all.

That fucking him hurt more than being hit by a car a hundred times ever did.

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[01:24 pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

[01:29 pm] yang jungwon: can we talk?

[read]

You blocked yang jungwon’s number that day.

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[JUNGWON . . . ]

Seoyeon made you laugh.

It was unintentional, he guessed. But she made you laugh. In a way. Other’s might’ve called it a snort. It was a goofy side-comment he made when you expanded the instructions on the chapter needed to be finished. He felt himself destructing and freezing while his heart soared and ripped itself apart. He swore he was flying while being drowned six feet under at the same time.

As someone who spent his entire life on music, Yang Jungwon has heard many sounds. Various melodies and tunes, but none of them were like yours. He’s been walking around tone-deaf for the past few years because it was like he forgot the way your laugh sounded and the way it made him feel like he could do anything.

It was like you immediately regretted it - laughing with him in the room, and maybe his emotions were written all over his face because Jungwon was losing you all over again when you disclose your emotions off once again from him. Then he’s all but greeted with a cold face - an effect of the mess he caused.

He remembers the time where you were his to call, and now, you couldn’t even stand to look at him - or be in the same room as him. He remembers the time where you would look at him and the way your eyes would light up, and now, he looks at your eyes for a fraction of a second and they’re dead. Once vibrant and easy to read - now empty and desolate. Nobody is home. They’re emotionless for him.

Your eyes only tell lies now.

You’ll never be like the way you used to be again.

To think that he ruined it. That he ruined a smile that ran so deep and had so much meaning. A smile that was always for him. A soul that had so much love and kindness for him. He shattered that. That was because of him.

He remembers the time where receiving ‘I love you’s from you were everyday like routines to you, and he compares it with the flash irritation that would cross your face and the petty tone of anger he would get from you every time he tried talking to you. 

You’ve changed.

He doesn’t know what those two years have done to you.

What he’s done to you.

Maybe he really messed it up. Maybe he should run and leave and never see you again so he would stop hurting you and fucking you up over and over again. Maybe he should let you move on and let you be happy with someone else. Maybe he should just stop hoping because the gods above know that they don’t trust him with you alone. 

It was killing him.

Jungwon couldn’t do any of that.

Getting to see you every day - it was already much of a blessing compared to the two years in the shithole he went through without you, waking up to feel nothing but empty - if it’s not endlessly torturing and tormenting himself for putting you through what he had to. 

But couldn’t Jungwon be a little selfish? Just this once? Couldn’t he ask for a little bit more?

If Jungwon could admit, he never wanted much, nor has he asked for much either. To say the truth, he doesn’t care about ninety percent of his life: fuck his gods be damned ‘career’, fuck air and water and happiness and money. 

Yang Jungwon was someone that had no interest in the world. He never really got to care about anything. But you. He met you. You were his first. You were all he cared about. You were all that really mattered.

And that was his world.

You were his world.

It’s been two years since he lost you - since he let you go for good, and that was worse than dying. Each moment was as if it was meant to come back at him and break his soul - or whatever’s left of it. All Yang Jungwon gives a damn about is you. 

He was damn well still in love with you, and he was never getting you back.

He’s lost you.

And the separating distance between the both of you proves it better than anything.

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

THE TWISTING POINT

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Jungwon wasn’t in a good mood today.

It was most likely because of work, so you didn’t want to question or pressure him into dwelling into it any further. You stayed smiling, knowing that whenever you were down, Jungwon knew exactly what to do. He needed sunshine.

You hear glass shatter, and loud clanging accompanied with it. You sprang upwards, racing to Jungwon’s aid to check yourself if he was hurt.

As you stared at the mess created, and the person who seemingly intentionally created the mess, you only stood by the doorway. 

You knew him, he wasn’t the type to let his anger consume and get the best of him, nor was he the type to physically express his anger. Especially around you. Jungwon loved the idea of you seeing him as a laid-back unique oddball, and you’ve rarely ever seen him irritated or angry. You’ve never seen him like this, however. 

You remained silent; your gaze downcast. Whatever happened in the studio today must have been seriously rough enough to affect him into a state like this. 

The room is too silent. “Won?” He loves being called that name; he’s told you. It gets him erupting with happiness in no time, but why isn’t it working now? 

Why does Jungwon’s eyes look so empty?

“Can you leave?” he asks you when you try to help clean up the broken shards of glass, finally uttering a word after the first time you’ve seen him today. 

“I don’t need you here right now.”  

Jungwon sees the way you freeze. The way confusion flashes over your face. The way your hopeful and gentle eyes crack by a fraction.

Jungwon sees it all.

You purse your lip in hesitation, worried, but you follow his request with a nod nonetheless as you quietly slip out of the room. I’m always here for you if you need me.

Jungwon feels nothing but emptiness.

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“Jungwon, you’ve missed two meals.”

He’s stuck in his music room. Again. Your lips pull into a forming frown at his state, placing the plate of food that you’ve organized for him at a table nearest to you. 

He only gives you a glance before his attention is back at his music, “I’m kind of busy here,” he blandly reminds you the obvious, and you feel yourself mentally deflate, a bit. 

A pause. You sucked in a breath. “I know, but you shouldn’t skip meals, okay? Take some rests,” you keep your voice gentle, hopeful. 

He barely gives a grunt in reply.

Why didn’t you see that he didn’t want you anymore then?

You swallow, trying in another attempt, “Um, do you need any help in -” Jungwon swivels his chair abruptly, turning completely at you. It’s the first time you see him look at you in a while, “No,” the look in his eyes is something you’d never forget, “I’m fine, Y/N.” And when he turns his back on you, you feel a jab in the gut. 

Ah.

You get the message.

You weren’t wanted around.

“Okay, I’ll uhh … I’ll …” you don’t finish your sentence, merely signaling that you were going to leave, but well aware that Jungwon was already back facing his screen. You don’t think he notices. You don’t think he ever notices anything at all.

No response. Not even a glance your way.

You felt so lonely.

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Jungwon was going out again, as he’s all done for the past week.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this, but you felt as if he was doing whatever it took to avoid you. To avoid looking at you. To avoid talking to you. To avoid spending time with you. Of course, it was all in your head. 

He would never hurt you like that, Jungwon was just busy. He was just going through things. He had it rough, you should be considerate.

It was just you alone most of the time, and you started to wonder if he was doing fine. If he needed you, at all.

“Jungwon?”

He turns to you, his body almost out of the door. “Are you okay?” you gently ask him.

He blinks. “I’m fine,” he replies after a pause.

You wanted to help him, whatever he was going through. You wanted to go through it with him together — you wanted to be there for him. “You don’t seem fine,” you try to start, “Jungwon, I’m here for you, you can talk to me if you—”

An exasperated sound of displeasure cuts you off, like a tether piecing everything together that snaps. “Can’t you do anything else other than bother me?” he waves you off, slamming the door in visible distress. He leaves you like that, and he doesn’t have to say anything else to make the wound hurt all the more.

The words left unsaid were enough.

He doesn’t come back the next day.

You wished he’d have told you how he loved you before he left, even if he didn’t mean it.

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.

The air was cold. You know that it was not because of the weather.

Your mind wanders.

Sometimes you consider the fact that there could be someone else.

You wonder where everything started to change, and somedays, the thoughts get heavy and immensely difficult for you to carry. Sometimes they hurt too much to think about. You can’t help but wonder where your love lacked for him, in where you gave him everything. Even if it costed more than you could afford, it was worth it. But was it not for him? Was it not anymore?

It’s hard to fight what was fated.

But you would’ve still ruined yourself to fix him.

Even if there was another person, you think, you just wished he told you - so you would stop foolishly hoping and trying to convince yourself that this was all a sick phase of his that would eventually pass. So, you would stop foolishly assuming that there was ‘together’ and ‘forever’ for the both of you. You wouldn’t insist on it anymore, if that’s what made him happy. Watching him torture himself like that and choosing not to say anything to you was more painful than anything else.

You knew you were not the one in his heart.

This was all going to pass, right?

Jungwon, talk to me.

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.

Jungwon can make it better.

He always has. You could never remember a time where he didn’t come to swoop in and save your day.

Was this the timing in where you realize that things were permanently going to change?

A simple month changes you a lot.

You believed, but you were slowly losing the light.

You gave so many signs.

So many warning signs.

He walked past every single one of them.

You couldn’t be the only one fighting for something that was already gone. Something that was thrown away and given up on. Because you have been, for as long as you can, and you don’t know if you can still continue to allow yourself to put yourself through it - because you don’t know if you can take it. Even if it was just one last time.

But still, you were willing to offer him anything he wanted the moment he needed it. You were ready to run to his side even if it killed you. Waste my time, waste it all.

The painful fake smiles, and pretending if everything was perfectly fine, as if you were okay, and the desperate pair of eyes that he always seemed to ignore.

You don’t know when it would stop.

You could only wish he would stay a bit longer to savor before he was going to make it hurt for you.

You felt the fatigue, then.

It’ll get better soon.

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THE BREAKING POINT

It was all about him.

You don’t know if you could take this any longer.

“Jungwon?” you called out to him - through the empty house, “I’m tired.” Faintly.

You were washing the dishes after immediately arriving home from your part-time job. No time for giving yourself a rest, or for catching up on the upcoming exam the next day. It was eleven o’clock at night. You heard the door slam, and you knew Jungwon was home.

He could mope around and throw things around. He was entitled to treat you harshly because he was going through a rough time. He could do absolutely nothing. That was how everything worked.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t cry. You couldn’t pause and rest. You weren’t entitled to feel angry or irritated because you weren’t going through whatever he was going through. You had to take care of him, and you had to endure getting treated that way our you could leave and walk through the door.

The shuffling of footsteps stops. You don’t move. You leave the faucet water running, eyes staring distantly - somewhere. But you don’t look over at him. You know that the courage that you’ve spent months trying to build up would come crashing down the moment you do.

There is no noise, only the running of the water. You know he’s listening.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you bat an eye, and your shoulders ease up a little. There is a certain stillness in the air.

“I feel like I’m just wasting my life in this relationship,” you’ve thought about this. You’ve tried to shrug the feeling off, but you wanted to know if you wanted to fight for him too. “I’m always looking stupid. I’m always left behind,” Isn’t it exhausting for you too, Jungwon? 

Nothing. Silence. No response. 

He wasn’t pushing you.

He wasn’t begging you to stay, like he always did.

He wasn’t going to even just try to change your mind.

He’s letting you go.

That infuriates you further, and you hate that he’s making you feel like you’re being too unreasonable without having to say anything. You hate the words he’s saying to you without even him having to open his mouth. Silence is all you’ve been receiving, hasn’t it? It’s always turning his back. It’s always the cold shoulder, whatever he had to say - he wouldn’t say it. It’s always been that way. Itwas always you that had to adjust. 

You hated this.

You hated this so much.

It was him leaving you alone to your degrading thoughts that would break you more than he ever can, “It’s all about you. It’s all just about your sufferings, isn’t it? It’s all just yours!” 

Why wasn’t he stopping you?

Why wasn’t he trying to fix this?

You wanted him to explain himself and assure you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted to work this out. Good God, you did. More than anything. But what happened to the day when you missed the most important exams for him just because he was too in his head to take care of himself? Where was he? What was he doing? Where was he when you were called to the school’s office because you were nearly falling off school? Where was he when you cried countlessly from overwhelming stress because of that?

Where was he when you were pacing back and forth at four in the morning without a wink of sleep, waiting for him to come back home and wondering to the heavens what the hell had happened to him? Where was he when you felt so isolated and alone? Where was he when your parents turned your back on you for you giving up everything for a boy who already seemed to have given up on you? Where was he to fight for you? Where was he to look you in the eye and give you a reason to keep fighting - to stay?

Jungwon was going through shit. That was something you understood. Something you wished he never went through, something you know he doesn’t deserve. And you were there for him. Every step of the way. But that didn’t mean that you had it all easy, either - did it? Didn’t he know? Or did he just not care? 

You wanted to work this out. But … did he?

Soft, too soft. You could barely hear. “So desperate,” it was murmured. A pause, a shift in movement, and he was gone. 

He was gone. He walked away. Like it meant nothing to him.

It stays, lingering. But he leaves.

You can’t believe him.

So monotone.

So emotionless.

Like it doesn’t mean anything.

He breaks you.

You crack open.

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t fight for you. He doesn’t feel anything for you. He doesn’t find a reason to stay. 

He finds a reason to leave.

That was it. And you weren’t even sure if he said it. Maybe it was a flicker of your imagination. Maybe you were going insane, was what it was. Did he leave?

He couldn’t have.

It was the end.

End.

The end of the both of you.

After that end, there was … nothing.

It was the end?

Your weight leans against the counter table in support, breathing heavily. Your heartbeat racing, your mind processing. A minute passes by, and you still stand frozen.

No. The stillness was too much to handle, you needed Jungwon, even if the only words he was ever going to say to you would hurt. You stumbled, rushing after the door as you tried calling after him. You didn’t want him to go. You couldn’t let him, you won’t give up on him. You needed him there. You were tired, and you needed Jungwon.

“Jungwon.” Where was he off to the moment you finally told him how you were feeling? Was it a mistake? Should you have stayed quiet instead?

“I didn’t mean what I said, come back and we’ll talk this out,” you called after him. You would take it all back.

He was gone. 

You turned, and you turned, and you hoped. Nothing. Pitch black. Darkness.

“Jungwon?” you were crying now, crumbling a little. “Jungwon, I’m sorry, please come back, please.” you begged. And you kept calling him, until even the gods above could hear you. But where was he? No, he was going to come back for you. He was. 

He was going to explain that he was sorry and that he never meant to hurt you. He was going to pop up right next to you like he always used it. He was going to smile at you with a cheeky grin and make fun of how you fell for his sick joke. He was going to give you a reason to stay and you were going to be okay.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” you shouted after him, numbly trying to follow his footsteps that weren’t there. Footsteps that were erased. The footsteps of someone who promised he’d never leave your side. It was pathetic. Your desperation was pathetic.

Where did he go? Which way did he go? Please show up. Please. Please.

You shivered at the cold. Why was it raining so hard? You could barely see a thing. It was too dark. Not a single light in sight. You didn’t even realize it was raining. But it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t go home until Jungwon was back. And safe. Everything will be okay.

Moments pass and you don’t know if it took hours. Jungwon wasn’t there and you were losing him the way you were losing yourself. “Please,” your voice came out a whisper as your legs gave up on you, falling into your knees, “come back to me,” your body shakes, and that was the end. 

All you were left with was the memories. 

The both of you were nothing but memories now.

Ended because of happenstance.

He was still gone the next day.

And the next.

And the next after the next.

And the week after.

And the month after.

And after that.

You waited.

He promised.

You believed.

Ah.

You felt it, then.

The light you held onto exhaled and took its last breath.

Expired.

When things are expired - when things pass its due date, no matter how much big of a waste it is, or how much you were looking forward for it; you can only throw it away.

Because your relationship wasn’t the only thing gone and lost to disappear that day. It wasn’t only him - or it wasn’t the one thing you cared most about. It was you. You came along with it. You; a simple crumpled worn-out paper thrown away. A rough draft. Scrapped and forgotten. 

He wasn’t coming back. 

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ skin by sabrina carpenter ]

PRESENT TIME, THE FOLLOWING DAY

The group was chatting with each other as usual. You were with Ningning and Seoyeon, catching up with the latest most random topics while you were making it a point to ignore Jungwon’s longing stare. Until Jake Sim takes a glance his way and points out of nowhere, “What happened to your arm?”

He immediately replies, “Nothing.”

When you sneak a glance over at Jungwon’s arm, he catches you and straight away tucks his arm away from your side’s view as casually as possible. Why did he have bandages? Your brows furrowed at him, skeptically surveying him.

What was he hiding this time? 

.

.

.

It was in the middle of individual study period when Ningning queries out of nowhere, “Y/N, Is Jungwon trying to win you back?”

A few glances your way at the sudden uplifting noise through the quiet room.

You almost choke. You wish you did. “What?” Loudly whispering, you snap your head over her direction, eyes blazing down at her incredulously.

“He isn’t?” Seoyeon pipes in, questioning incredulously, all the more surprised than you. The both of them were never going to let her newfound discovery of exes that were quote “fated back together” end quote. You stare blankly at the both of them, unamused.

She shrugs innocently. “He looks like it,” she answers her own query and peeks over his way. Explaining, she heaves a casual exhale, “He keeps looking over at you every five seconds with those starry hopeful eyes as if you’d change your mind.”

Your face hardens at the mention of it. You hadn’t told what happened between you and Jungwon to anyone. Once both Seoyeon and Ningning had asked for the details of what happened, you simply brushed it off, not wanting to talk about it. They had assumed something went wrong.

Whatever Seoyeon had in mind to be out of a romantic film - this wasn’t the case. You had no idea what he was up to, but it was most probably something that would put up some entertainment to aid his boredom before he fleets away again. 

She playfully nudged you with the edge of her elbow, “So, what made you dump him?”

She laughed. Loud. She was talking quite too casually that you speculated Jungwon could hear the conversation. His head was bowed, supposedly reading. You couldn’t read his facial features. You don’t want to.

“Poor dude, he looks like he’s had it rough.” Of course, everyone would assume it was Jungwon who was dumped. That it was him who was hurting. That it was him who got the mistreatment. You were the bad guy. In the end it’s your fault.

A chill runs down your spine. You dumped him? You almost laugh aloud in sarcasm, but it comes out as a snort. Waving her off teasingly, you motion the both of them to shoo away, “Shove off.”

Seoyeon gives a toothy beam before scribbling something down her notebook, Ningning peeks over to read it and giggles. You barely catch a glimpse of it.

‘Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath.’

.

.

.

LATER, AT THE LIBRARY

Another day. That meant another meeting with both Jungwon and Seoyeon in the library. After long hours, the group meeting was finished. All there was left to do was to submit the chapter’s draft for corrections to the professor; it had been decided already that Seoyeon and Jungwon were to do it.

You were leisurely taking your time packing up your stuff when Seoyeon hurriedly scurries out on her way to exit the library. “Hey, Jungwon, I’m really busy today, so I can’t accompany you to pass the papers. I just realized I have soccer practice,” she forms her lips into a pout, faking a thought. It occurs to you then that Seoyeon doesn’t have varsity. 

Your eyes narrow at where this was going. “What about ask Y/N to do it? She has nothing to do anyway!” she winks, lightheartedly hitting Jungwon’s arm. He was taken aback, looking confused and somewhat lost himself, but having no choice left other than nodding, he agrees. “Uh . . . sure.”

Seoyeon turns your way and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at you as soon as Jungwon had himself distracted with the papers in the meantime, giving you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you can do this!’ before slipping out of the room - faster before you could protest.

You scowled darkly, clenching down your jaw. If looks could kill. That girl.

On the other hand, Jungwon continues to arrange the pile of papers with a shuffle before quietly handing them to you, he then started on packing up his things. It was suffocating. Would leaving the room make it seem like you lost this nonexistent battle between the both of you? 

He cuts you out of your trance of thoughts, “You were there that day at the tower, weren’t you?” he asks you out of the blue. He doesn’t even look your way as he stuffs a few books in his bag, and he doesn’t have to give context for you to know what he was referring to. not a look of uncertainty was evident in his eyes, “I know you were.”

Anger starts to boil inside. You have to remind yourself that this is what he wanted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you casually dismissed.

He inwardly huffs out a breath. “Was it tough for you?” he changes the topic, and you swear it was only a matter of time before he gives you the biggest whiplash.

You were raging with endless anger and fury, yet you keep your face was void of any emotions – standing in front of him as his form blocked your path, stressing you even further. You gripped the strap of your backpack tightly, “Move out of my way, Jungwon.”

“Answer me, first.” he pleads with you. “Was it tough for you, then?”

He doesn’t budge and stubbornly remains rooted to his spot.

You grit your teeth, ripping apart your poorly concealed anger bit by bit. Jungwon didn’t care. He wanted you to feel emotion. Any emotion. Even if it was blinding rage. To scream at him and punch the living lights out of him. It was better than receiving your blank emotionless stare all the time. He couldn’t take it.

He was definitely testing your patience carelessly. Was it tough for you? You laughed humorlessly. A stab to his gut. A knife filled with poison. “I don’t know what you want, but let’s be mature people here. You do whatever hell you’ve been doing the last two years, and I’ll continue do the same. Okay?” you spoke, your tone hostile. You take the folder placed beside him before leaving him there, disinterested.

It wasn’t as simple for you as it has been for him to simply walk the relationship off down the drain. 

Not when he promised the world.

Not when you believed him.

Not when he was standing there right in front of you acting as if he didn’t know anything about the shit you had to go through without him. As if he was just innocent. As if he had nothing to do with it. As if he cared. And especially not when he was the one who put you there and left in the first place. 

This is what had become of the both of you. Jungwon and you. Worse than strangers, haunted by what’s left of something that was long gone. 

All he had to do then was apologize. Actually, he just had to come back, and you would do the apologizing for him. You were always the one who gave in, in the end, anyway. 

You would’ve accepted him.

You would’ve even begged for him.

The things you would have done.

None of this would’ve happened.

But.

None of that would work now.

None of that mattered.

It was all too late.

The both of you were just so different now.

.

.

.

LATER

Riki was confusing, truly.

“Didn’t you make fun of me two years ago about how much of a dumbass I was?” you rolled your eyes incredulously at Riki picking at you to how rude you were being to Jungwon, “You hated him, what’s with the change of attitude?” you snort.

Riki shifts his weight, fixing the strap of his bag, “You were a dumbass,” he agrees, pulling a face at you, “and I still hate that guy,” he continues, his expression turning sour at the thought of him, but pauses.

“But you were happy,” he looks over at you deliberately.

 A happy dumbass. You could cringe, that was the old you. The desperate old you. Long gone.

You were most definitely not having it, your facial expression hard. “Did you have a head trauma or something? A fever? Are you forgetting the past two years?” you press the back of your hand to his forehead, checking his temperature and warmth for dramatic effect.

He pushes your hand away, “I’m just saying,” he starts, talking to you as if you were a child, “he left, but he’s back, isn’t he?” he throws his hands around for emphasis.

Then he shrugs, like he doesn’t know any better either, “He’s gotta be back for a reason.”

You don’t care. You don’t care what reason he’s back, or whatever he wants from you. “He can’t just come and go as he pleases, idiot,” you forcefully shrug it off, grumbling. “that jerk made his decision that day. He made his bed and now he has to lie in it.”

And Riki gives up on how stubborn you are, “You really do hold grudges, don’t you?” he ruffles your hair up, amused. 

Strangling a sound, you kick the back of his leg, but he dodges.

Oops, your eyes slightly widen, anticipating a fall. You lose your balance, nearly tripping - but luckily, Riki notices within a half of a second and catches you before your face plants flat on the ground, hoisting you back to his chest by the grip on your waist.

You were going to laugh at your mistake, your face already breaking into a smile - but your eyes catch someone a few feet away.

You blink. Your smile slowly starts to drop at the sight of him.

Of course, it had to be Yang Jungwon.

For a split second, your shock doesn’t allow your eyes to leave his. 

Riki snaps you out of it, releasing you from his grasp and guides you to his side as he slings his arm around your shoulder - like he always does. You’re sure Riki knew well enough and had an idea of how Jungwon looked like. He recognized him straight from the café, and you never questioned how he knew. How were you going to walk out of this one?

Riki doesn’t look at you in confirmation - you have no idea what shit he’s going to pull, but you’re sure as hell it isn’t going to be good.

He nods once in acknowledgement over at Jungwon, but Jungwon pays no mind and choses to ignore him as his eyes flicker onto the arm around you.

Riki notices it.

You don’t know what to do.

“Hey, I’m Riki,” he starts - and for some crazy reason, he sounds as if he was gloating, “who are you?” he throws back casually. Too casually. You would be irritated to talk to him, if you were in his place. The dislike in Jungwon’s features is evident enough. You don’t know what Riki was playing, but he extends his hand out for Jungwon to bro-shake, whatever that could even signify.

A long pause. Jungwon barely glances at it before his attention is back on you, ignoring him beside you as a whole. 

“Why are you with him?” he tries to casually question you - as if he was trying to create small talk - his voice is calm - but Jungwon’s eyes never lie. He could never hide anything from it. You knew that look, and you didn’t like it. It made your blood boil. The guts of this self-centered arrogant asshole. 

Riki answers in your stead, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to answer. He laughs, throwing his head back a bit, “Oh, don’t mind us,” he curtly replies, “my girl over here ‘s just really clumsy.”

You forgot how much of on asshole Nishimura Riki really is.

Riki effortlessly sighs, openheartedly shrugging as if to say ‘what-can-you-do?’. It was friendly, but you understood the underlying meaning. He was testing him. Picking at him. Provoking him. You wanted to facepalm. Provoking was the only thing he was ever good at, why did you even bother? What was this, some fighting-for-the-alpha-spot werewolf shit?

Nishimura Riki, you asshole! 

Jungwon understands the message. A muscle up on his clenched cheek twitches, his eyes slightly narrow. Was he threatened already? You were in a state of disbelief, Riki was barely even doing anything. Seriously. He never changes.

“Why are you with him?” he asks you again, this time his voice comes out somewhat strained in the end. The old Jungwon would’ve probably started a fight right then and there, lacking any sort of composure. Jungwon changed, hasn’t he?

But you have, too.

Riki peeks at you, “Babe? Do you know him?” Confused. Curious. Innocent.

You had to give it to him. Riki was an amazing actor, he could’ve fooled you if you didn’t know any better yourself. 

You merely glance at Jungwon, barely a pause before you answer, “No.”

No hesitation in your tone. A ‘no’ as if he was simply a stranger standing before you. Nothing. You observe how your answer hits Jungwon. How the simple word destructs him. You could only watch. Everything was different now. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?

But where was the sense of satisfaction?

You tug at Riki’s arm, “Let’s go, you promised me to bring me home today.” 

You leave Jungwon like that. You leave him with the uncomfortable feeling that was bubbling up. Riki is surprised. And confused. You don’t know if he’s still continuing the act when he affectionately waves Jungwon goodbye before immediately following after you.

Yang Jungwon strikes again.

.

.

.

You whacked Riki at the back of his head the moment you were as far from the gods-be-damned-scene and as far from Jungwon as possible, “Idiot!” you hissed, “What the hell was that?”

He rubs the back of his neck soothingly, glaring at you. “You know, just a little ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

“’Thank you’, my ass! I told you to not pull any stupid shit!” You threaten to hit him again, vexed at the stunt he pulled. The situation was only going to get worse from there and you couldn’t take back anything at this point. You retreated your arm, groaning in horror of what’s to come.

“The moment called for it!” was his only excuse.

You scowled at him, as if your eyes could annihilate him at the spot.

You got Jungwon, you had to admit. A few more of these blows and he would leave your sights. This was a bad idea, but your mind didn’t seem to pay any care. 

Hurt him.

Right then and there, your ego allows Riki to participate in whatever crazy-sick game this was. You just needed Jungwon far away.

Riki smirks at you and flashes you a winning smile. He knows you’ve agreed to his idea without having to say anything else. You had no other option, either way.

“You won’t regret this, ___. It’ll be fun!” he singsongs, draping his arm around you.

It’ll be fun, you echoed.

You’ve been lying to yourself for two years, what’s a couple days more to you?

.

.

.

THE NEXT DAY

Jungwon finds you asleep, leaning your head on the desk with your cheek pressed up against the table. 

And Nishimura Riki was by your side, reading gleefully. Mostly watching you sleep. A fucking weirdo, Jungwon inwardly comments. His stomach turns at the sight. His mood has already dried.

He stands there for what seems like a torture of infinity before Riki sees him there. He just grins at him. Jungwon would want to do nothing more but throttle him and that shit-eating look off his face.

“Here for the thesis paper?” was all he asks, he starts collecting himself and his things, preparing to leave, thankfully, Jungwon praises.

But when Riki decides to act like the biggest fucker to piss him off all the more when he leans in to gently tuck back the hair covering your face as as you sleep, Jungwon defensively takes a step forward to you by instinct, ready with a handful of swear words.

Riki notices it, and only press his index finger on his lips, indicating to keep his voice down. Jungwon’s jaw slightly ticks as he stays in place - not risking your sleep.

He pats Jungwon’s shoulder on his way out, but he stops by the door. He motions him closer, as if he were to tell him something hugely important. Jungwon presses his lips into a thin line, walking up to him and trying to keep it as civil as possible.

He holds up a finger, as if to gesture ‘and-one-more-thing’, “Oh, and tell her to keep the hoodie she’s wearing, will you?” 

Jungwon raises both brows in question, and instantly regrets it.

Riki further explains himself, "She likes stealing them from me. God knows she has a whole rack of them on her closet.” He shrugs, a growing smirk on his face. “But eh, I like it on her, it suits her better.”

That little shit.

He was about to give him a phony nod and thumbs up to let the whole agitating conversation over with when Riki presses his luck even further, “She’s pretty.”

God. Jungwon’s patience was running thin, his jaw flexes.

“Oh, and tell her -”

Jungwon nearly slams the door on his face.

He wondered what you saw in that guy.

Walking back with his hands stuffed in his pockets - something he does when he was definitely pissed off, he yanks a chair, face displaying irritation at its finest when he arrives back at your table. He doesn’t bother to spare you a glance your way, he knows you too well.

“I know you’re awake,” he says out of nowhere, his voice tight. “Stop pretending.”

It takes several moments before you start faking a yawn. You could easily fool anyone, but sadly for you, he knows you too well. His glance is blank as you outstretch your arms as if you had just woke up, you greet him as if you hadn’t expected to see him there, “Oh . . hey.”

Jungwon had already looked sour from his encounter with Riki, his pissed off gaze averts away from yours. A muscle from his jaw ticks as he huffs, “Your boyfriend left.”

You nod, blinking as if you were slowly trying to register everything. Jungwon wanted to ask you a flood of questions: what was he doing here? Were you already awake when he was being a creep and staring at you while you were ‘asleep’? Why are you wearing his hoodie -? “Okay.”

That aggravates him even more, and his tone turns curt and strained. “I’m going to work on the thesis. You do whatever.” he dismisses you, heaving a short breath.

He stalks off, but not before grimacing at your outfit up and down - more than fumingly horrified, spitting out through gritted teeth, “And take off that hoodie. It looks horrible on you.”

.

.

.

THE WEEK AFTER

You wake up in Monday morning with aching pins and needles, not being able to move an inch of your body. Your eyelids were too heavy to keep open, weighing tons of your effort.

Of all days, you were sick.

Lord.

Releasing a cough, your hand reaches for your ringing phone. Riki, the contact label name displayed. You try to clear your throat as you answer the call, in effort to not sound as sick as possible. “Hello?” your groggy and hoarse voice could be depicted from miles away by a total stranger. Much less Nishimura Riki.

“Princess?” His voice answers through the call, perceptibly worried, “what’s wrong? You sound . . . off today.” You could tell he was squinting as he said this.

“Uh. . .” you sniffed, trying to come up of a lie, “just watched a sad film. Cried a lot.”

Riki hums, giving no humor in his voice. “Mhm. And that’s why you’re late four hours to class?”

Your stomach lurches. You were what? You had classes today, and you didn’t even remember. Were you missing on anything important in university today? Shit.  

Racing for the most reasonable excuse, “I wanted to . . . enjoy a day off?” Bad liar. You were nothing but a bad liar. You were too exhausted to create a better and more creative lie.

Riki, being way too observant on things he shouldn’t be, clearly wasn’t buying it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m coming over. Don’t go anywhere. Stay in bed,” he orders you shortly before ending the call. He doesn’t scold you or lecture you, and he leaves it at that. 

You moan at the surge of pain once again located in your stomach, you had no plans of leaving the bed even if you wanted to anyway, given your current state.

.

.

.

Riki texts you that he was outside around less than ten minutes later.

If you could complain, you’d rather have Riki come in your room to help you up. Like he always did. You found him not doing so rather odd, as he would always make the weirdest reasons to come drop by your house. Moving the slightest inch was hard as it already was. 

It takes you what seems like hours for you to get out of bed, and even more for you to bag your bag and head outside. You were ready to grumble about how efficient and less painful this would’ve been if Riki had come to help you until more than one figure greets you outside your yard. 

Riki and . . . hands stuffed to his pockets, head bowed - you know that side profile -Yang Jungwon?

Both stayed at opposite ends, standing in front of their cars, awaiting for you with the hardest glares sent the other’s way. What was happening? Jungwon was most likely the reason Riki wasn’t able to go inside your house to pick you up. That was the only factor that made sense - the rest was something you couldn’t connect the dots of. 

Both their cars parked out of your house, and you could feel the tension slicing you in half the moment you step foot outside. These two could never stay in the same room, sticking around to wait for you was strictly meant for you.

Jungwon is the first to break the glaring match as soon as he sees you, being the first to approach you while gently holding you up. 

“Love, are you okay? Let me bring you to the hospital - come on,” he pleads with you, gesturing towards his car. 

“This isn’t the time to joke about something like this in her state,” Riki forces a fake smile through his gritted teeth, irritated as he sneaks his arm around your waist, holding you up himself all the better with a single hand, “just so you know.”

Jungwon’s gaze darkens, “It isn’t about fighting for who gets her, just so you know,” he mimics, “I don’t trust her with you, you dipshit.”

Riki scoffs to himself, shifting his weight as he continues to press you tightly against him, not budging an inch of you to Jungwon, “And look who came to talk.”

Jungwon opens his mouth, his eyes ruthlessly set on Riki’s before you try and weakly cut in from your lack of energy. However, your weak knees give up on you and you almost stumble down, not before both Jungwon and Riki reaches out their hand to grab your arm within half a second. Riki half-yells your name, all the more uneasy and concerned than you were.

“Y/N? Love? Are you okay?” Jungwon’s hostile tone towards Riki not seconds ago immediately dissipates, conveying his tone of worry and panic at your weak state.

“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Jungwon additionally suggests, trying to have you lean his weight on him for you to stand property, and in that way he could easily carry you back to his car.

“Hell no,” Riki growls, in the other hand.

You notice Jungwon’s eyes darken at the corner of your eye, “And who exactly are you to her to begin with-?”

“Her boyfriend, nice to meet you, you dipshit,” Riki retorts.

Jungwon lets out a low noise, pissed off at a topic that was seemingly sensitive to him. “Over my dead body would you ever be her boyfriend.”

He rolls his eyes in disinterest. “Still going through the stages of grief? Is this the denial stage?” he taunts, clicking his tongue with a tsk.

“Bo,” Jungwon calls you - candidly ignoring Riki’s shitty statements, but his sharp eyes never leave Riki’s, “let’s get this over with and tell us who would you want to -” 

This was getting too prolonged, you were so close to vomiting again. You definitely did not want to vomit here of all places. “Riki,” you called out faintly, interrupting Jungwon, “please take me to the hospital.” 

All parts of your body ached painfully, and you were too miserably ill to deal with this situation. You imagine Jungwon’s expression crumbling, deflating. 

Riki straightens, visibly surprised, but he doesn’t hesitate. Not before giving Jungwon a final look, he carries you with you gently, making sure you were watching your step as the both of you left the defeated Jungwon without another word. 

You were too weak to look back at Jungwon – he helplessly stares after the sight of his girl - his girl - being taken away from him when she needed help the most. 

Again.

.

.

.

You spend three days in the hospital for a diagnosed viral infection.

Thankfully but not surprisingly, Riki stayed by your side through every minute, only leaving for a shower, buying take-out, and for getting you new packs of clothes. It was Ningning and Seoyeon who came over to take care of you during Riki’s leave.

He sticked around from the moment you were submitted, to the insertion of the IV, through your countless trips to the bathroom to puke and for him to hold your hair back, and through your dischargement.

The both of you were on your way to the car to load your things. Riki had all of his hands filled. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, thanks for the wanton noodles,” you mention immediately as soon as you remembered, “How d’you know they were my favorite?” You don’t recall ever brining it up to Riki.

Instead of bursting up his signature winning smirk, Riki furrows his brows at you, “Wanton noodles? What wanton noodles?”

You perked up a brow, “The one you left by the door earlier when you were paying the discharge bills?”

Riki had nothing. He blinks at you as if you had been hallucinating. “Why would I leave food by the door?” he shakes his head, “Doll, what in the hell are you talking about?”

“The wanton noodles that you –“ You stop mid-sentence, freezing. Realization dawns on you then. The note, you recall as you piece things back together.

Stop skipping meals. I got you your favorite. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.

Yang Jungwon.

There was no name from who it was from, you had simply assumed it was from Riki. This wasn’t your first time realizing that Jungwon had never dropped by, you had simply figured he didn’t care. Your stomach sinks, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me’. The double implications.

Riki waves his hand in front of your face, “Earth to princess? Hello?”

Ah. Right. You blink, shaking your head – you meet his eyes with a smile, “Nothing. I just thought I remembered something.”

.

.

.

WEEKS LATER

Jungwon was a lot quieter than usual ever since you’d been discharged.

Since . . . the night he and Riki were there. You slightly wince at the memory.

You almost managed to successfully spend a thesis discussion with him without having to say much - to your great pleasure - until he just had to ruin it for you. He was filling in his part for the thesis paper while you were scanning through the pages of the book you were reading, skipping to the ending.

“Hey,” he starts, humor laced in his voice. “D’you still read the endings of books like you used to? I remember –“

Your head snaps up. You don’t smile. You don’t flush red in embarrassment. You don’t laugh like the way he’d expected you to. The way you always did. You stared harshly down to his eyes. It wasn’t the heart-fluttering kind - nor was it the passionate or the fierce or the loving kind of stare. No, it was a heart-piercing glare - so full of pure hatred, the kind that had his breath hitching up his throat in the worst way possible and his heart sinking into your stomach.

“Don’t.”

Ah.

No double meanings. Nothing else. The essence couldn’t be taken as a mere mistakable, conveyed with just one simple word that held the heaviest weight, yet it was enough for him to understand. He doesn't try to catch himself or his smile as it fades - along with the antagonizing agony that accompanied it.

The light in your eyes has gone.

They were so dark.

It doesn’t shine the way it used to.

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He struggles. It takes him two more tries. Two more times of you opening and closing his mouth for him to finally unknot his tongue and drag the words to the surface.

“You have a …” he hesitates to say it, “boyfriend?”

It was so close. A few seconds until you would leave, and he just could wait. Stuffing your university belongings back into your bag, you exhaled, your lips tightening into a hard line. “What is it to you?”

A second or two passes, “Oh,” he replies, “I didn’t know, so -”

“What difference does it make?” you rhetorically question him, your patience running thin, “if you didn’t know or if you did?” You were being absurd - you knew that, but you wanted anything but the idea of having to talk about that subject with him and act like it was fine. 

Being snappy at him wasn’t the greatest idea, but you know Jungwon was trying to get at somewhere. You would do whatever it took to defy him. That quiets him down, only forcing a painful nod.

You needed to leave. You couldn’t stay away from him, especially whenever he was near. God knows only a few words from Jungwon would be all it would take for him to manipulate you back into his strings.

Painful silence.

Until, “Does he make you happy?”

You find yourself freezing.

A sick feeling in your stomach.

Does he make you happy?

Happy.

Why was he asking the question like he meant it?

Your eyes flicker his way, and there is no hint of humor or taunting mock in his face. Was he serious? The man who broke you to pieces and disregarded you stood before you and asked if another man was making you happy, as if he cared. As if he ever did.

You don’t say anything.

You don’t have anything to say.

Jungwon knows that.

You try to breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

You walk away, and he lets you. You walk away because walking away was the only thing you’ve ever done. Because walking away was the only thing you could ever do around him. Because you can’t risk another goodbye from him.

You were done gnawing back at the past.

.

.

.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ spring day by bts ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

AFTER THE BREAK-UP

.

.

.

And the both of you became back to being nothing.

Just like that.

You told him your secrets, and you let him in. All the good, all the bad. You trusted him and brought down your defenses. You let him know your weird thoughts or funny inside jokes and the deep insecurities. 

But he never got to know the little things, you realize the moment it’s over. The little things that infuriated you. The little things that made you laugh. Or the little things that would always put you on a better mood - the little bits and pieces of you.

You barely got to know him at all.

Was that the reason?

Was the fact of loving him just as plainly as that - nothing more, and nothing less - the root of it all?

Or was it just the big things that held the both of you together, and the small things that caused you to fall apart?

.

.

.

You don’t believe it’s over.

Because it’s not.

You’ve been stuck inside the house for longer than you could count. You’ve memorized the number of tiles on the floor and seen every miniscule crack on the wall. You know how many steps it takes to walk from here to the door.

And you know just how many steps Jungwon took to leave.

Your eyes remained fixated on the door, waiting at the dining table for him to come home.

Like every other day.

He was still finding his way back home, you reminded yourself.

Busy. He’s busy.

Tick-tock.

He’s on his way.

He'll come back. He always does. He promised.

You form hundreds of thousands of excuses for him.

But the door doesn’t swing open to reveal Jungwon in all form and glory beaming down at you, apologizing, telling you that it was a mistake, telling you that he didn’t mean it. Every day is the same.

But nothing.

Nothing.

.

.

.

Riki knows it’s one of your days.

He reaches for your hand to grab and the fact that you have no response alone proves his assumption even further. 

He doesn’t mind, Riki decides to walk you home.

You have those days where you go completely silent. Worse than ever. So quiet that he could never guess what you’re thinking or if you’d ever come back from it. Eyes empty as if there was no one home. He doesn’t know how he could help you specifically, how he could make you snap out of it.

The only thing he can do is talk. Talk and talk and talk and talk. He talks for hours about anything on the top of his head, and Riki himself is surprised he could somehow manage to not run out of topics to tell you about. 

Even if you don’t respond. Not even a flicker of recognition to any of his comments or jokes.

Riki never knows what you’re thinking.

But this time, that day, he knows it’s about Jungwon.

Someone asked you about Jungwon today. How he was doing, where he is, and what happened to him. As hard as Riki would shield you away from situations such as these, it wasn’t hard enough.

Riki was so close to making you smile the other day. He was finally doing it.

And then he’s back again to square one.

After his efforts of trying to get your attention by the food stalls the both of you passed by, Riki starts to go quiet. 

There is no noise - nothing between the two of yoou. Only the rustling of leaves. The cool breeze of air. The sound of footsteps on cobblestone. Cars driving by. Indistinct chatters. 

“Why are you still holding on?” quietly. So quietly, but you easily catch on Riki’s question. Then your hands slightly tremble.

You don’t answer him, you’re afraid of saying too much. You’re afraid. 

He never said goodbye.

That was your reason.

He never said goodbye.

Jungwon always bids you goodbye, you’d explain to Riki if you could.

What makes this time any different, right?

He won’t leave without saying goodbye. He wouldn’t. Only you could understand.

He never said goodbye.

A part of you still believed that meant he was coming back.

.

.

.

When Riki tries dropping by like any other day - a sneaky reason to check on you, from the start of early morning, he sees you there. 

You spend the whole day stuck in the kitchen.

Riki knows what day it was without having to ask.

By the evening, you bring out the cake that you’ve been preparing for and set it down the table, in front of an empty chair. The chair you never let anyone sit on. It’s still belonged to someone else. 

Riki knows who it’s for.

Your eyes are distant, as if they were caught up in a dream. Light. You were there - physically, but you were far away. Far, far away. Riki started to wonder if this was just how you were. He wondered if there was ever a time where you were really alive. 

He wondered the extent to how much this guy did to break you. 

Your eyes looked so empty.

But you were still holding on, weren’t you? You’ve never responded to him, but he knew. Riki made no noise, but he clenches his hands into fists. You don’t acknowledge him standing there.

You set the candles down the cake with the lighter.

You only stare at the cake, expectantly. Waiting. Waiting for someone to blow the candles off. Waiting to sing the cheerful ‘happy birthday’ song and make a wish. But it wasn’t just anyone. 

He doesn’t attempt to do anything - or say anything. But he stands near close to your proximity. Watching over. Silently. He doesn’t leave you that day. 

You take a seat next to the empty chair, simply and patiently letting time pass as your eyes affixed themselves with the dancing fire.

Until the candles blow out themselves hours later from the cold air. 

That night, Riki also knew who it was for when he heard your uncontrolled crying and broken whimpers pass from your room for the first time.

.

.

.

There was a period wherein you stopped leaving the house entirely. And Riki stopped pushing you to.

Everything reminds you of him.

The house has never felt so big.

Alone.

You miss the way he smells.

The overbearing feelings starts to compress, and you feel it expanding within your chest. It gets hard to breathe. You feel helpless.

Jungwon won’t like it if he sees you like this, wouldn’t he?

You keep reminding yourself.

He might come in any second, and you wanted to be at your best.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry.

You won’t cry.

You’d make it up to him.

You don’t want it to end.

He’ll come back.

He’ll come back.

.

.

.

You don’t know how many months it has been.

That’s a lie. You do.

You find one of the notes he wrote for you in an old shoe box.

It reminds you that what you had was real, that what you had wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t a dream. 

You picked up the first letter, your fingers tracing through his handwriting.

It was painful. A shard of glass piercing through your skin.

To my one and only girl,

You couldn’t breathe.

It was merely the first line of the long letter, and you couldn’t breathe.

This time, you don’t pretend to forget that you aren’t Jungwon’s anymore. You don’t pretend that this was all a phase. A nightmare. A joke. 

This time, you don’t pretend to wait at the living room for him to come back home, swinging the door open with a grin and greeting you from a long day like he used to. Not anymore. Even if you had so much to tell him. So much news to show off to him. So much news to be happy for. To celebrate. But you weren’t.

This time, you almost suffocate.

You torture yourself even more this time. You open the letter again and it rips your heart out. It stabs you and leaves you bleeding. You read the last line. Sealed with a promise. A broken promise that meant nothing now. 

I’ll make you the happiest girl, I promise. I love you :)

You could imagine his cheeky smile as he wrote this, sealing the promise - among with every other one that he’s made. Every single one that he didn’t claim responsibility for. 

Liar.

He was a liar.

He was reckless and a liar.

He broke you to the point where you couldn’t even manage to bring yourself to say his name.

You wish you were brave enough.

What a fool you were.

A dumb, useless fool.

.

.

.

“Kant’s metaphysics?” Riki answers, lying on the edge of your bed. He lounges carelessly with a review paper clutched on his left hand. 

You rest a hand on your hip, pacing around your room. “No, but you’re somewhat close. It’s categorical imperative.” You corrected, recalling your philosophy lesson by memory through mentally singing a tune to yourself. 

 The philosophy oral examination was this coming Thursday that next week. It was Saturday. Riki complained, saying he needed help and tutoring, and you, other than staying cooped up at home debating your life choices and burying yourself in academics, there wasn’t really anything else you did. 

He squints his eyes in confusion, “But how does that relate to the second follow up question after that?” you pause, staring hard at the desk beside you to remember the answer, you take minutes - but nothing.

You run a hand through your hair, visibly frustrated and stressed. You had all the more topics to go through. Hell, you had to go through the whole book and you couldn’t get past the second lesson yet.

Releasing an exhale, you shut your eyes tightly. Shit. Shit. 

Jungwon always knew what to do. He knew how to calm you down and rile you up and make you laugh right after like he was born with it. He’d drop everything at the sight of you overthinking and over-stressing school work, embracing you and telling you that you didn’t have to worry. That he was there. He’d let you cry it out, vent out your frustration and stay by your side through it all, running a hand through your hair soothingly to comfort you.

He knew exactly how to take care of you. 

You need him.

You needed him.

Just for this moment.

How much longer?

Biting down your lower lip forcefully, you chant the words over and over again. 

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

You know he’s not coming back. 

You know.

You’re back to pacing across your room, back and fourth. ‘”I don’t know, I really -” you cut yourself off, irritated. At this point, you’re ready to erupt from the heavy weight of his absence. At this point, you want to drop to the floor and stop time to give yourself a breath. 

Riki has sat up at this point, silently watching you. He’s probably either thinking that you were worrying and stressing over the amount of workload given to you like the usual. Or, does he know that academics isn’t what you were worrying about at all at that moment?

You try to level your breathing.

Come back.

Jungwon, please.

Come back to me.

.

.

.

To: won 😚🙄

[03:46am] you: hi i’m graduating this wednesday. i’d really like it if you could drop by. 

error. message undelivered. try again?

[03:50am] you: hey did you know my graduation is nearing?? haha you should come :)

error. message undelivered. try again?

[05:18am] you: jungwon

[05:18am] you: are you there?

[05:19am] you: you’re gone and i really need you.

message sent.

do you want to delete this message? 

message successfully deleted.

Contact user: [ENTER] 

Contact: yang jungwon

by pressing [Confirm] you are allowing the name changes to be saved.

changes saved.

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.

.

“The sun’s so clear out. Lighten up, princess ~” a voice calls you out of your thoughts and you realize you were trapped in a dream.

Identifying reality with dreams seemed entirely difficult to you. There was something fiction in the way reality was going to you.

Reality was as crazy as dreams were.

“Your moping is bad for my skin,” Riki comments lightheartedly, scrunching up his nose.

It’s been a week or so since he came along. Since he bumped into you and started to grow interest towards you. You don’t ask him, and you don’t really care. Nothing that every happens around you matters to you as much anymore.

You only blink in regard to him. That was more than a sign of acknowledging his presence that he was used to.

Riki is used to this. He doesn’t mid this type of behavior, nor did he expect anything else. He self-proclaimed himself as your guardian angel – two days after he’d met you – who’d look after you “since you lack the ability to look after yourself” end quote. Which was true. You couldn’t look after yourself. Especially due to the past circumstances that he pieced together himself.

You were probably someone’s ex-girlfriend.

To him, Y/N was a detached-from-reality schoolmate of his who was definitely more than what meets the eye.

You were someone he wanted to get to know, until you stopped becoming that person, one day.

Until you became someone he wanted to protect.

Sliding himself into the seat next to yours, he pouts at you. “Y’know . . . I think it’s time for you to . . move on,” he struggles finding the right word for it. You know it takes a lot in him to try and be gentle, as he probably would’ve been teasing you with a bunch of insults.

Your throat encloses, and you feel like burning up.

Moving on meant accepting that he was gone. Gone from your life. Accepting a future without him, and that wasn’t something you were ever going to be ready to do.

He was long gone.

Jungwon was long gone.

The magic you once felt with him wasn’t there anymore.

He wasn’t there anymore.

And neither were you.

Waiting for someone is painful.

Letting go from someone is painful, too.

But not knowing whether to wait for someone or let him go?

It hurts more than anything.

.

.

.

You were out inside the bathroom for the first time in hours since you’ve left your seat from blankly staring at your phone.

It was all pure coincidence when Nishimura Rik stumbles upon the open phone screen that you’ve been torturing yourself endlessly with.

It was all pure coincidence.

And coincidence just happened to align with his curiosity. 

you: S.O.S. [7 hours ago]

you: come back [7 hours ago]

[Read]

Riki doesn’t have to read the contact name to see who it was.

.

.

.

It must be Riki’s professional job; being the only one around able to spot where you are when you suddenly disappear from the face of the earth.

“Princess?” Riki finally finds you along the benches, alone. He figures it weird, he’s not exactly sure what you were doing there exactly.

Until he sees your face. Your tear-stained cheeks.

Ah.

“It hurts.” Out of nowhere. He has never prepared himself for this. Your voice cracks a bit, “Riki, it hurts.” You plead with him as if he power to take it all away. Small. Helpless. That was what you sounded like.

He offers his open arms to you, and you bury yourself in them. He lifts you up from the darkness, even if it was just by a centimeter.

“I’m in so much pain, can you stop it?” you tell him in a managed whisper, your voice hoarse.

He’s afraid anything he’d say would only break you even further. He only hugs you tighter.

Fuck, why did he give too many shits about you? This wasn’t the least like him at all. What in the world have you managed to do to Nishimura Riki? He stares at you, not being able to do anything.

“Why does it hurt so much?” a small vulnerable child whimpering in pain – pain they were forced to believe was their fault. That was how you sounded. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s frozen, in fact. “Riki I want to –“ you pause, trying to start again, “I’m tired,” you struggle with your words, your eyes closed shut, “Please make it stop.”

His eyes flicker.

Please make it stop.

Riki isn’t much of a person who really cared about anyone else’s business. He never poked his nose around because he never bothered enough to. Everyone was black and white to him.

You were a quite peculiar one to him, though. It drove him crazy, what was so good about you? You were clearly dead hungover your past ex. Barely talked. Barely did anything, at all. 

But he saw the most beautiful and vibrant colors when he looked at you in the whole life that he’s been walking around colorblind to any other.

He was just being pulled down deeper.

For the first time, all Riki wanted from someone was just their happiness. Purely. Passionately. Their happiness for his happiness. He just wanted you . . .

He just wanted you.

Nishimura Riki is done for.

If this was what he thinks it is, he’s done for. Because Riki was ready to be anyone you wanted him to be.

You gave be something I’ve never had, he wants to tell you. And I have nothing special to give you - but I will give you everything I have.

He doesn’t break promises. Especially if it’s you.

Riki will mend what was broken.

Whatever it takes.

One step at a time.

He was getting himself into the biggest mistake in his life, God, he sure as hell knew that. But Riki was never going to regret what was to come.

He was going to make it stop. All of it.

.

.

.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

PART TWO

[kiirotoao]

Thoughts on Byler and pet names that I wanted to make a video on but ended up writing because they’re quite specific and frankly a little embarrassing to say aloud:

Baby: Mike uses this one when he’s in a very flirty mood. Will uses this teasingly and very sparingly.

Babe: Mike uses this all the time. Will uses it sometimes around the house.

Sweetie/Sweetheart: No. These are Joyce’s terms of endearment only.

Darling: Both use and don’t realize how often they do. They’ll readily deny using this one, but they love flirting with it.

(My) Dear: Both use this often. Mike uses it when he’s writing and/or being poetic (AKA cheesy and sappy) and Will uses it when he’s happy.

(My) Love: Both use this all the time. It makes them sound a little prosaic and cute at the same time, and they absolutely love it.

Handsome: Both use when flirting, so pretty often.

Hot Stuff: Only Will uses this one because he somehow makes it not sound overly-cheesy. Mike can pretty much only use this one ironically with finger guns and everything (Will finds it cute, though, so no losing with this one).

Cutie: Only Mike uses this one, usually when Will’s wearing a cute outfit or his hair is getting a little too long. When Will occasionally does use this one, Mike is left blushing out of his mind.

Lover Boy: Both use this one, usually when they very obviously want to get the other person to blush.

Angel: Too cheesy for them both. Maybe only when Mike is down bad.

Sunshine: Again, too cheesy, but Mike uses this sometimes first thing in the morning.

Casanova: Will uses this teasingly when Mike is being cute or romantic.

Prince Charming: Both use very rarely, maybe when the other is being, well, very charming.

Cuddle Bug: Mike used this one first and then Will picked up on it. Both sometimes use when they’re cuddling.

Sugar: No.

Pumpkin: No.

Honey: No. Maybe after a few years into their relationship? Maybe.

Bonus: Mike calls Will “O Great And Wise” and Will calls Mike “My Knight/My Knight In Shining Armor” sometimes, too ;)

ADD-ONS!!! TY GUYS IM. EVEN SOFTER THAN I WAS WHEN I WAS FIRST MAKING THIS.

(My) Muse - credit to @holyvirgilscriptures: Both use very sweetly, especially when they’re in their craft (Will painting, Mike writing), another prosaic one that they absolutely adore.

Beautiful - credit to @camel-casing: Both use, mostly later in their relationship. I love picturing this one as another morning greeting along with sunshine, like, “morning, beautiful,” or just when they feel in love.

Pretty Boy - credit to @c4ntbr36th: Both use, mostly Mike, though, in my head. Sometimes they use this teasingly when the other is pointedly a mess (crazy bedhead, coming home super late and frazzled, etc.) or exceedingly well put-together and when they’re all-around smitten.

[babygorewhore]

Divine Ruler. Kai Anderson smut.

Kai has been so mean lately. But you couldn’t resist him…could you? WARNINGS! Corruption. Use of the word daddy. Slapping. Fingering. Oral! Fem receiving. PnV! Cream pie. Overstimulation. Choking. Mean! Kai.

Okay. Okay. I know! I KNOW I SAID IM TAKING A BREAK! AFTER THIS IS POSTED I SWEAR I AM. BUT I WORKED ON THIS SINCE LAST NIGHT. ENJOY MY LITTLE LAMBS.

You heard the front door slam. Shuffling downstairs, waking you up from deep sleep. Then you heard yelling. You exited the room, hearing the commotion in the basement. As you walked, you overheard Kai screaming at Samuels. “Motherfucker. Don’t you know that you could have ruined this whole thing?” He yelled, raising his hand to slap the man.

“I’m sorry, divine ruler. I was thinking with my dick. Not my brain.” Kai lowered his hand. Changing his mind.

“Get him out of my sight. I’ll deal with him later.”

That wasn’t the last of it.

You were making coffee in the kitchen but you accidentally dropped a cup. It didn’t break but it made a loud noise. Kai slammed his hand down on the counter, right next to you.

“If you’re not more careful, I’m going to lock you in the fucking closet.” He hissed before ripping away from you. You breathed harder.

The next time, you were in the basement sitting on the couch next to winter as he was telling one of his deranged stories. You ached for him. You missed his touch and kisses. You wanted his attention but you were forbidden to speak during these moments.

“And that’s why…men lead. Women bleed.”

“Kai. That’s absolutely cruel.” You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking. Kai froze and so did you. You broke a rule.

“So, this is what you’ve decided to do in front of my faithful men. Disrespect me. Question my words.”

“No. I just think…” you continued.

“What? You think, what?” He growled.

“I just think that’s wrong. Is all.” You finished.

Kai shot up, faster than you anticipated and reached forward, locking his hand around your neck. “Beg. Beg for my forgiveness.” Your eyes widened as he grip tightened.

“I’m-im- I’m sorry.” You whimpered.

“That’s not fucking good enough.” He yelled but he did let go. You inhaled deeply as he sat back down, continuing to share his ideas.

Later, you waited in the bedroom for him. Planning on getting on your knees to apologize. Some sort of contact was better than none. But as the hours grew later, you realized he wasn’t coming to bed. You laid on your side and started crying. You missed him so much. But you didn’t know why. He was distant more than he was affectionate. He was so determined to succeed that you often went neglected.

You sat up and wiped your tears. Set on finding out what was going on with him. As you walked through the house searching, everyone was asleep. You opened the door to his parents room and you saw him sitting beside his mothers corpse. You held your nose and stood at the doorway.

“Kai?”

He didn’t look at you.

“Are you going to come to bed?” You asked him.

“My father wasn’t a good man.” Kai said aloud, as if he wasn’t talking to you. “He was the reason my mother killed herself. He deserved to die. More than her.”

You nodded, enjoying the rare vulnerability he was showing. “It gives me pleasure. To literally see him rot for what he did.” Kai said before standing, letting go of his mother’s skeleton hand.

“Why did you come to look for me?” He demanded.

“Because I miss you.” You sniffled. “I miss you and I want you back.” He looked at you unimpressed.

“As you know, I must bring progress to this movement. I can’t allow my personal feelings to get me distracted.”

“But I’m your girlfriend! Talk to me. Show me how you’re feeling!” You respond desperately.

“How am I supposed to show how pissed off I am without hurting a little girl like you?” He mused and walked closer to you, tilting your chin up. “Just a little precious, innocent girl. Too senseless to walk away from a man as dangerous as me.”

“I’m not senseless. I love you, Kai. I want you.” You leaned forward to kiss him but his hand locked around your jaw. Squeezing it too tight.

“How badly? How bad do you want me?” You swallowed, scared to reply.

“You’re still young…ten years between us. I still have so much to show you.” He whispered, getting closer to your lips.

“Please. Touch me.” You pleaded, ignoring the pain in your jaw. Kai let you go, but his brown eyes impossibly darkened. His hands wrapped in your hair and yanked you against him, his teeth bared.

“Get on the floor. And crawl. Crawl back to the bedroom. And don’t fucking get up until I tell you too.” You nodded rapidly, terrified to disobey. You got on your hands and knees, crawling back down the hall and into his bedroom.

You stopped when you felt his foot, knock you over, making you fall on your forearms. You gasped. “Did I fucking say to move?” Kai barked at you. You immediately returned to your position.

“Fuck. Look at that pretty ass. Should I fuck it? Spread my cum all over you and make you show everyone who exactly you belong too, little girl?” His hand grazed your lower back before he pulled you back by your belt loops.

“Stand up.” He ordered and you did. Like a personal puppet. Your back was pressed against his chest as he leaned down, his nose going against your pulse point. His tongue darted out, licking the warm flesh.

“You taste so good. But I wonder…how wet are you for me?” He shoved his hands in your pants, shoving aside your underwear, his pointer finger gathering your slick.

“You fucking dirty girl. Wet for me when I treat you like a doll. But you like that don’t you?” He shoved his finger in your mouth, making you taste yourself.

“Taste that? That’s mine.” He turned you around, his height over yours as he looked down at you like you were pathetic. “Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.” He spits in your mouth before he nods towards the bed.

“Get on the bed. And spread those pretty legs.” You listened to him with your heart in your throat. You laid on the mattress, still wearing your leggings as you spread your legs, feeling your wetness drip down your legs.

Kai peered down at you, looking bored. “Take off your leggings. I wanna see that little pussy.” Your cheeks flushed as you shimmied out of your pants, exposing your bare lower half.

“Fuck. You’re dripping. Such a bad girl.” Kai kneeled down, flexing his fingers before he shoved two inside, you cried out at the sudden fullness. “Oh. Can you not take it? Are you too innocent for my fingers?” You breathed harder as he pumped inside you. You wanted to touch your clit but you hesitated.

“What do you want? You want me to make you cum?” Kai asked you, you could feel his breath. “I think you’ve been a good little princess for me. I think you deserve a reward.”

His tongue laid flat against your clit. You moaned as he spread you further with his fingers, flicking his tongue as he made out with your pussy. You felt his teeth graze against your walls as you threw your head back. “Kai-“ You shuddered as he replaced his fingers with his tongue inside and started circling your clit with his thumb.

“You know what’s not what you call me. Do you want me to stop?” You shook your head, ashamed at how desperate you were for his touch.

You searched in your head for names he liked. .

“No, daddy. Please don’t stop.” He slapped your pussy. You winced.

“That’s good. Really good. But not what I’m looking for today.”

“D-divine ruler?” You whimpered as he increased his speed. Kai smirked against your pussy.

“Atta girl. That’s right. Say it again.”

“Please don’t stop, divine ruler.” You groaned, getting close to your release.

“Do you want to cum?” He asked, softly running his tongue against your folds.

“Fuck. Please, please, please.” You begged before it hit you. Your warmth spread along his face as you rolled your hips, chasing your orgasm.

You started to settle but Kai lurched forward and wrapped his hand around your neck. “Did I fucking say you could? You always wait until I say you can. And you disobeyed me. Again.” He tapped your cheek with his hand, not hard but enough to get your attention.

“But you said-“ this time. A slap came. Harder.

“Don’t fucking interrupt me.” Kai yanked down his pants, down his thighs and his boxers followed. He pumped his shaft a few times before lining it up with your entrance. “Just for that. You don’t get to touch me.”

“Oh god. Kai wait- I need a minute.” You begged but he slammed inside you, causing you to nearly scream.

Your pussy clenched around him as he thrusted hard and deep inside you. His hand gripped your throat as his other pinned your hands above your head. Keeping you still.

“What’s a soft little girl doing? Being so wet for me.” He groaned against your neck as he pressed sloppy kisses against your throat. You could hardly breathe but you felt yourself getting ready for another orgasm.

“Divine ruler-“ you moaned. Trying to loosen his grip. But he was stronger than you.

Kai settled into a fast and rough rhythm as you both grew close. Your eyes saw stars as you felt yourself break. Kai let out one last deep moan before you felt his cum spill inside you, and you followed suit.

He slid in and out of you, still not removing yourself. You couldn’t bare the overstimulation and you tried to wiggle from him.

“Too fucked to talk?” He asked you, as sweat gathered on his forehead.

“Please…” You pleaded through gasps.

Finally, he released you. Kai shuddered before he pulled out of your slickness. He fell next to you, breathing hard as you tried to collect yourself.

You reached down, sore from him as you saw blood on your fingers. You weren’t a virgin, thanks to Kai several weeks ago. But he still took you so roughly.

“A little blood never hurt anyone.” Kai chuckled. He scooped you in his arms and you curled around his chest. Your legs tangling with his.

Kai stayed silent as you kissed his cheek, allowing you to show him affection as he ran his hand across your arm.

Taglist. @spill-the-t @evanptrss @evanpetersfansblog @randodummy @icannot3

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Wait im sorry if like youve talked about this before but what is everyones roles in the fantasy au 👁️👁️ or jobs?

i've just Thought Aloud in bits and pieces but hey. i feel like talking today so i'll put it all in one place with Updated Thinkings

(i like to imagine that they all kinda Quit their initial jobs/lives to go adventuring with each other, either by choice or... not. except Howdy, who's a multitasking king). the Neighborhood party earns their wages by completing jobs/quests, though some of them have minor supplemental ways of adding to the coin collection

Wally, of course, didn't really have much of a Before. he didn't intend on becoming a warlock/wizard - that choice was kinda made for him by the circumstances of his existence. but Wally had to pretend to be a wizard for his own safety, and wizards have a sort of societal expectation to be Helpful and Magical and Wise and Existing For Public Service. so while Wally would have rather just been a painter, he's obligated to be a wizard - that's technically his role/job. within the Neighborhood party, he's a bit of a distance fighter/support! he doesn't really do the whole up-close / physical aspect of battle, though he technically knows how. He casts spells from afar, which tend to be widely benign. artsy little cantrips and inconveniences to make it harder for the enemy to fight. he's also a bit of a bloodhound - illusions don't trick him, he can "see" most magic, and he's really good at getting around unnoticed. if they're stuck somewhere, Wally can probably get them out

Barnaby's "job" before going adventuring with Wally - it started out as just the two of them! - was just working on the farm with Ms. Beagle, where he had been his entire life. Sure he'd sometimes do public performances/acts in town, which would earn him extra coin, but that was more of a paying hobby than anything (a paying hobby he will Continue) in the Neighborhood, he's... uh. their cheerleader? that's not entirely inaccurate! he's not big on combat or effort i'd reckon, so he prefers to just keep morale high. offer background music, funny commentary, jokes to lighten the mood, mediate tensions, etc. if necessary, he makes good backup - he has his illusions of course, and he Does pack a mighty punch if need be! he's also very helpful when retreating - he can grab the smaller party members and run

Wormie is the group mascot <3

Sally was a bit lost before joining the party - i like to think that she was constantly on the move as part of a traveling theater troupe, but she wasn't the star or director. she was just part of the group, uninspired and with a full well of untapped potential. one day she up and left (dramatically) to find her own inspiration/muse & path to stardom, which ended up being several years of wandering until she happened across the budding Neighborhood and went "this! this will be the source of my stories!" as for her role, she's a bit of an everyman. front lines fighter, entertainer, mediator, etc. she views herself as the party "leader", or rather, their Manager. she keeps the party entertained with stories, and bolsters their reputation in the same manner. in a battle she's a bit of a powerhouse - her light magic is useful both in combat and entertainment! she keeps a "book" of the Neighborhood's exploits (she swears it will be edited/published someday) holy shit she's moominpappa, and in their Extended downtime she writes and throws plays inspired by their adventures at their home base (town).

Eddie was still, originally, a mailman. or i suppose in a fantasy setting - a courier! until one day he saw a group of people being attacked by some bandits, managed to fight them off, and immediately got roped into helping rescue the folks' entire town from the bigger group of bandits. then they told others about Eddie's help, they wanted his help too, one thing after another and now he's got a full set of armor, a sword, a shield, and his whole thing is saving people. huh? how did that happen? he was delivering letters a month ago! if i had to give him a title... i'd say he's a Protector! he seems like the type! he always has his fellow adventurer's backs - i bet he has his hands full trying to cover everyone at once. outside of combat, he's still very helpful and does whatever is asked of him / needed. collecting firewood! pitching tents! stirring soup! getting Frank to remove a centipede from camp! in downtime he probably takes small bodyguarding gigs. he also is a minor healer - he took some sorta oath for some sorta god (or virtue) that he can't remember, but he has minor healing/cleansing powers. he's also good at sniffing out evil & dark magic! some would joke that he's the party's guard dog

Frank was raised in a monastery that believes in "using your body to fight for the greater good". this was not his job when they became old enough to actually Act on his training! nah they ran away in his mid teens because they wanted to fight things on his own terms. also they want to study bugs more than anything, which he does! for a long time! then they meet a certain princess, befriends her, and helps her run away. he only joins the Neighborhood because Julie wants to, and it's a good way to travel - read: study more arthropods - and earn coin. fighting is a bonus aspect Frank's role is... front line fighter, bookkeeper, and the Guy Who Knows Things! what monster are they dealing with? what are its strengths/weaknesses? Frank probably knows! can they afford a room or two at an Inn? Frank knows (no, they cannot)! who's throwing themself into direct mortal danger with gusto? it's Frank! no but really, Frank is like their resident nerd who can beat pretty much all of them in hand-to-hand. in downtime he probably has a garden purposefully full of plants that can be left alone for long periods of time... maybe they sell half the things grown for extra coin!

Julie, of course, was a princess! that was her whole job! it was incredibly boring and restricting, so she ran away with the help of a funny nerd. after that her whole life was just "avoid getting recognized while figuring out how to live in a world without the comforts/ease of castle life". i'd think she much prefers her new one! as a role, Julie joins Barn and Sally in the "entertainment category". while they entertain with humor/stories respectively, Julie goes straight for games and activities to fill the lull between action. keep the blood pumping, spirits high, and bonds Solid! camp games, road games, locked-in-a-dungeon games! in combat, she's on the front lines with her oversized sword. i think another fitting role would be "navigator" - she can ask plants for directions! technically Julie is a secret powerhouse. her flora magic is insanely powerful, though she prefers not to use it for several reasons

Poppy, i like to think, did indeed have a bakery. it was well-loved in her community, her staff were wonderful people, and it all burned down in a night due to raiders. luckily for Poppy and her town, Eddie was nearby and got on the case to get rid of their problem - maybe Poppy felt obligated to help in some shape or form, and Eddie wound up inspiring her to learn healing magic. She moved into the town that would become the not-yet-existing Neighborhood's HQ to try and restart her business, but it just wasn't the same, and she had gotten a taste of what it would be like to directly save/heal people Poppy is the party's cook, healer, and ultimate voice of caution! the most she'll do in battle is sprint into danger to drag an injured person to safety for healing - she doesn't have a combative bone in her body i'd guess! does she enjoy being in the Neighborhood? eh... it's stressful and terrifying, but she couldn't live with herself if she let them all brave the wild without an adequate healer OR an adequate cook. i like to think that she saw the state they were traveling in and went "oh no"

Howdy, of course, has his tavern! it's a popular hub for travelers, townsfolk, pretty much anyone and everyone. of course it helps that it's the only tavern in town! the only reason Barnaby managed to convince Howdy to join the Neighborhood on one of their jobs is because Howdy realized that he can widen his net & sell to new people On The Go. finally, a use for that magic backpack collecting dust in his room! Howdy got a taste for adventuring and joins the Neighborhood every once in a while, usually only for shorter jobs - he doesn't want to be away from his tavern for too long his roles are support, professional haggler, sarcastic commentary. he doesn't have a crumb of magic in him, but he's clever! he's learned how to make his own support items - including his fancy revolvers with magical crayonsbullets. Howdy rarely fights, choosing to watch over his pack, dole out items when needed, and listen to Barnaby's running commentary. when it is necessary that he join in on combat, he can usually clear the playing field in a matter of moments. he's skilled with both the revolvers and using his own items - he's a one man four armed army!

Home's job is "keep Wally upright and powered". they prefer to be an observer in all situations, even after their existence becomes common knowledge to the Neighborhood. the most Home will do is nudge Wally in the right direction or alert him to something important. Home's literally just hanging out behind Wally's eyes w/ a bucket of popcorn. unless something happens to his beloved little puppet, in which case Home becomes the biggest baddest bitch around and sends everyone else to the bench

tl;dr: Wally: support fighter, magic geiger counter, escape artist Barnaby: entertainer, backup Wormie: mascot Sally: storyteller, fighter, Manager Eddie: protector, minor healer, "paladin" Frank: bookkeeper, fighter, scholar Julie: activities director, navigator, fighter Poppy: cook, healer, overthinker Howdy: tavernkeeper, inventor, support Home: just keeping an eye out

[wooahaes]

under the sun [joshua]

pairing: non-idol!joshua x gn!reader

prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.

word count: 11.4k~

warnings: slightly suggestive at the very very end, but its left up to interpretation whether anything happens!! (its just two idiots in love making out for a minute). so, so much skinship and platonic-ish kisses between joshua and reader throughout. depictions of nightmares + mentions of vague illness and injuries within said nightmares. food mentions. more straight forward, flirty joshua throughout fic. mentions of joshua being mr gentle sexy.

daisy’s notes: men i am down bad for after writing this........ also sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but wasn’t: several names didn’t pop up when i tried to @ them !! (plus tumblr for some reason hates when i try to have a taglist so if it DOES show that u were @-ed but didnt receive a notif, im so sorry!! ive had this issue for a while and i have no idea how to fix it...)

< day 3 || masterlist ||

summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world… and between you and one of them.      

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that Joshua already had a soft spot for you.

This, however, was normal in his eyes. Every time a new person came from maybe either Soonyoung or Wonwoo onward, Joshua found himself doting on people a little extra. When Jun came, it simply felt like they were a tiny group of people living together. But something about that number ticking over from four to five or five to six felt... More, in a way. Although he didn’t dote heavily on Soonyoung, or Wonwoo for that matter, his affections were obvious from day one. The amusement he found in Soonyoung’s jokes, the gentle way Joshua made sure to keep Wonwoo (and later Jihoon, Minghao, and occasionally Hansol when he wasn’t feeling the chattiest) acknowledged in conversations (never forcing them to speak, but making sure they felt regarded as a member of the group), his friendly competitions with the others... He found ways to make sure people felt involved. Jeonghan was better at listening and giving advice, Seungcheol’s job was to lead, and therefore Joshua kept people feeling loved. Whether that be with casual conversation or the occasional mischievous prank he pulled. With you, he expected more of the same: he would dote on you in the beginning, and then it would fade into that same love and care he provided everyone with. Truthfully, Joshua enjoyed caring for people. There was a reason he was called gentle sexy, after all (... even if it was semi self-imposed).

And at the end of your first week living with them, Joshua saw how stressed you were becoming for one reason or another. So he decided he’d get to the root of the problem sooner rather than later. Once he finished hanging laundry with you and the others, he offered up a little picnic lunch--just the two of you. He’d packed up the sandwiches someone else (Mingyu, he thought) had made, and sliced fruit for you. All that was left was for the two of you to find a nice spot to sit in. He carried his bag with food and water bottles inside of you, while you had been tasked with the very important job of carrying the blanket he’d found for you.

He’d suggested the spot the two of you eventually settled into: half underneath the shade of the tree, and half underneath the sunshine. He spread out the blanket for two of you, gazing up at the cloudy sky above for a moment. He looked at you after a moment, gently patting the spot next to him. Yet when you sat down, he didn’t notice the way he slightly shifted to be closer to you without much thought. It felt... natural in a strange way.

“Like my second day,” you mused aloud at one point as Joshua was pulling the securely wrapped food from his bag. He looked up with a hum, but realized what you meant a second later: the two of you had lazed together under the sky that day, too.

His fingers grazed against your own for a moment, acutely aware of how the side of your hand pressed against his own that day. “It wasn’t that long ago,” he gently teased, a warm chuckle escaping his throat. “But you already fit in with us.” Just like we knew you would, he wanted to say, but he held back. Would that be a little too bold to say...?

“I do?”

He smiled. “You do,” he said, his hand already finding a home with your own, your fingers already lacing together with his. “I wouldn’t lie. I think we all care about you a lot, even if it’s in different ways.”

He could see the way you bit back a thought. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushed over his.

“Even Jihoon and Minghao,” he told you. He noticed the way you raised your eyes, already caught. And oh how cute your expression was. Maybe he’d catch you in silly little moments like these again if he could see that wide-eyed look again. “They’re just taking their time. They were like this with Seungkwan and Chan, too.”

It didn’t take you long to piece together the missing name there. “What about Hansol?”

Joshua’s eyes seemed to light up a little as he smiled. “Jihoon liked him almost immediately,” he said, “but he’s the exception. Jihoon likes you enough, and so does Minghao. They just take a little longer to warm up to people.”

“What about Jun?”

“Jun’s looking out for you, too,” Joshua said. “He’s also a little quieter about it. But... you know that Chan likes you. So do Hansol and Seungkwan...” His thumb ran along the side of your hand. “And so do I.”

He could see a flustered smile cross your lips, and you turned your face away from him, looking to the sky instead. But you finally spoke a tiny, “Thank you,” a second later. He laughed a little, warm and vibrant, at how adorable you truly were.

“So... What else is inside that cute head?” He smiled at you, tilting his head as though it’d allow him to peer inside and see said thoughts. “Anything new?”

Your smile slowly dropped, and you let out a quiet sigh. “Nothing so far.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said, gently squeezing your hand. “It takes time. I think once you stop worrying about it so much, it’ll come to you.”

With another sigh, you turned back to face him again. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s easy after a while,” he said, pulling his hand free from your own. He reached for the sandwiches he’d brought the two of you, offering one up. Your fingers grazed his again when you accepted it, and he turned his attention to unwrapping it slowly. “When you’ve been here as long as some of us have... You learn to accept each day for what it is.” He went quiet, staring down at his meal. 

And you watched as proud, bright, warm Joshua turned into someone... quieter. Like the volume had been slowly turned down, number by number, until his melody could barely be heard while still being there. He said nothing for a moment, just staring blankly, brows drawing together as he gathered his thoughts.

“Sometimes... I pray,” he finally said. “And I think it helps. I grew up Catholic,” he looked back up at you, “That much I remember. I remember singing in church....” He went quiet again for a moment, idly pulling at a piece of the bread. “Singing’s really important to me, actually. Sometimes I don’t know why, but it is.”

You weren’t sure what to say to someone so pensive, so quiet compared to the version you knew most days. So you opted for what you knew was true: “You’re good at it.”

A smile crossed his face, even if it didn’t fully seem to be him again. “You’re sweet,” he said at first, eyes meeting yours after a second. This time, his smile actually met his eyes. “Thank you. But you should hear Seungkwan. And Seokmin, too,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich, as if to distract himself from whatever thoughts had washed over him before. “Jeonghan and Jihoon are talented, too,” he said after swallowing his bite, “but you really, really need to hear how Seungkwan and Seokmin sound--especially if they sing together.”

That seemed to bring back the Joshua you were most familiar with. Not that you didn’t like this quieter, more thoughtful version of him: you thought that maybe, in time, you would learn how to speak to him in moments like that. It was strange, though... He always seemed so carefree so far, most days enjoying the freedom that this life could give him. It almost felt as though he was made for it. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t think Joshua could have those quieter moments: you were sure everyone there had them--even Soonyoung, who seemed to carry the most laughter with him, or Mingyu, who’s silly, goofy nature spoke for itself most days. Yet with Joshua... It felt as though you weren’t prepared to see that side of him peek out so soon.

It was cute, though, to see the way he happily hyped up the others and their talents. Soonyoung loved to dance--as did Jun, Minghao, and Chan, and Joshua was happy to sing the praises of everyone there. He’d let you see too much of himself, too soon. Maybe when the two of you were closer (and, truly, he hoped you would be), he would confide in you the way he confided in Jeonghan. He hoped you would feel the same safety in confiding in him, too: he might not be as warm as Jeonghan seemed to be, but he wanted to give you a warm place to land if you needed it, arms wide open and ready to embrace you when you needed it.

That night, he woke up from a far too vivid dream. The memory seemed to fade away soon, slipping from his grasp as he sat forward, a hand running through his hair. He’d been somewhere... crowded and loud, making his way through throngs of people. He remembered being approached, yet the face seemed... blurry and distant. Like he should remember it, but something in his mind refused to let him make out specific features.

“Joshua?” Jeonghan quietly mumbled from beside him, sleep laced into his voice. He stifled a yawn, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, slowly settling back into bed as he turned onto his side. “Just had a weird dream,” he said. “Nothing bad. Don’t worry.”

Jeonghan accepted the answer easily enough, eyelids drooping shut as he snuggled back into the space next to him. He’d talk to him about it in the morning--no need to wake Jeonghan up over something so silly. He slipped back into slumber as easily as he had pulled his blanket back over him, and was left with nothing else he could remember that next morning. He made his way to breakfast with the others, stopping long enough to glance at himself in a mirror. He looked the same, so why did he feel so... Different?

He’d waved at you on his way in, and noticed your shy smile as you waved back before returning to your conversation with Seokmin. Joshua went to get a glass, his focus purely on getting a glass of water. Maybe that’d help settle him, centering him on something other than what he dreamed about last night. Seungcheol had stopped beside him, though, his own glass in hand.

“Everything okay?” He asked in a quiet voice. “I felt you jolt last night.”

“You did?” Joshua raised his eyes to meet Seungcheol’s. “Just had a weird dream. It felt... real.”

Seungcheol slowly nodded, taking in each word with care. “Like a memory?”

“I think so.” Joshua paused. Yet... The other memories never felt so vivid. Not like this. They felt real in the same sense, but what made this one feel so intense...?

He saw you again, giggling at something Seokmin had said, and he could see the way he pressed kisses into your cheek with a smile.

Well. There might be his why sitting right there. All that was left was to chase after it.

“Today, I’m going to teach you something very important.”

Joshua’s hand was holding yours as he walked alongside the river with you, more-so to guide you than his casual form of skinship. He’d invited you along with him for a small walk through nature--something he enjoyed doing on his own sometimes, but today wasn’t just leisure. He’d left you waiting in anticipation after he finally decided to break the news to you as to why he’d suddenly invited you out again barely a few days after your picnic.

“The art,” he said, with a purposeful pause to build suspense, “of living one day at a time.” He let go of your hand after a moment, slowing to a stop as he turned to you. “I think you could use it.”

He was slightly teasing you, and you could tell from the way he was smiling at you. Yet you agreed easily enough to ‘take these lessons,’ since he’d casually offered you a ‘once-in-a-lifetime deal’ when he invited you out earlier. If there was anything Joshua was good at, it was keeping you entertained. Whether that be through playing guitar or singing, or building up to moments like these... You definitely found him charming in plenty of ways.

“It’s hard,” he said, “but I learned a while back that it’s better to accept each day as they come. It helped me relax, at least--and it helped a few of the others, so I think I’m an expert now.”

Charming and cheeky. A deadly combination, in your humble opinion, but you liked Joshua’s company too much. If he would be the death of you, then c’est la vie... At least Chan would hopefully avenge you, maybe with Seungkwan and Hansol at his side.

(Not that you had any worries with Joshua: he was strong and safe in the same way the others were. The only fear you truly ever could have was of impending heartbreak, if you let yourself fall for his charms.)

Joshua drifted away from you, plucking a few flowers from the ground before he turned back to you. “There’s a lot of beauty in nature. I think I knew it before, but living here really makes you appreciate it a lot more.” He made his way over, carefully placing the flower behind your ear.

It was at this point that you realized he’d placed the other behind his own, and he smiled at the way the two of you matched now: little yellow flowers almost making it seem like the two of you were a pair. He turned, starting off talking about his own walks he goes on sometimes, enjoying the scenery even though he’s seen it an endless amount of times by now, and you followed behind him like a duckling.

Eventually, he found a spot to sit. He nodded toward the spot next to him, the corners of his lips slightly upturned as he watched you sink down into the spot next to him.

“What do you see?”

You raised a brow at him. What?

“Humor me,” he said. “Just tell me what you can see.”

So with a long exhale, you looked around, and began to list off things. The river ahead of you, stretching toward the lake at the end of this path. The trees that surrounded both of you, having reached the more wooded area. If you looked close enough, you could see fish underneath the water, scales shimmering in the sunlight that peeked through the trees. Tiny flowers dotting amongst the grass: some pink, some white... and others yellow, like the ones you and Joshua still had behind your ears.

Your eyes trailed him up. “I see you, too,” you said after a moment.

It earned a smile from him. “Well,” he said, “I see you as well. Now tell me what you can hear.”

Part of you wanted to roll your eyes. It felt like the kind of lesson you might have as a child learning about their senses for the first time, but you began to list off things nevertheless. The sound of water rushing past (and, if you listened closer, you could hear a fish leap and land in the water again), the sound of birds fluttering through the trees. Joshua’s breathing. The wind as it rustled leaves. Your own quiet breathing, too. Part of you wondered if you could hear the others, had you been close enough to home: the sound of Jun’s loud laughter, or Seungkwan ranting at something Soonyoung joked about...

And when he prompted you next, you continued on: you could smell the flowers, light and sweet on the breeze. Feel the way that the grass was poking into your skin, the feeling of the flower, weightless, behind your ear. The warm breeze as it kissed your skin. The warm feeling of his hand brushing against yours.

“That’s it,” he said in a low voice. “The art of living a day at a time.” He was smiling again, eyes twinkling. “Living in the present moment and accepting it as that. The book Wonwoo brought back called it mindfulness, but I prefer my name for it.”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. Even if it was a mouthful... You thought you preferred his name for it, too.

The next day, you and Joshua were tasked with cooking dinner. Conversation always came easy with Joshua: even if you had moments of being unsure what to say, he could easily fill the air and keep things flowing as the two of you worked. He always seemed to use chores as a way of checking in with you, too, just to make sure you were adjusting well. He noticed how close you’d become with Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan--although he’d noticed that a few others had a soft spot for you (namely Mingyu... and Seungcheol, but for the sake of his friendship, he’d leave his name out of it for now).

“Joshua?” You looked up from the veggies you’d been chopping for him, and he merely hummed in acknowledgement. “So... What started this whole ‘art of living one day at a time’ thing?”

He hummed to himself for a moment, mulling over the exact moment that led to it. He’d come up with the silly little name for it after he started practicing mindfulness, sure, but... “Sometimes,” he started, “I’ll get stuck in my own thoughts. It was maybe a few weeks before Jun showed up, but Cheol and Jeonghan took me out for a picnic. And--I dunno. We just sat together, just kinda observing how peaceful everything is.”

“So you had a picnic with your friends, and you started to appreciate... everything?” 

Joshua nodded, not looking up from his work. “Yep. It helped.”

“Would you do that with me?”

He paused, turning to see that you’d grown more flustered at asking your question aloud. Before you could apologize and try to backtrack, he merely nodded, “Sure. I’d gladly steal you away for a picnic if you don’t mention it to anyone else.” He went back to stirring the pot, the scent of spices heavy in the air. “I like having alone time with you.”

His heart stirred at his own words, aware of what he meant: I like being the object of your attention.

Right as he went to apologize for being so forward, you spoke up, “Then you can’t tell anyone, either.“

Joshua’s eyes were shimmering as he turned to you again, sharing a smile between the two of you as he realized that maybe things weren’t so one-sided for him. “Then... We can call it a date. If you want.”

“And if I do?”

Oh. Oh. This felt... fast. “Then you can pick our spot.”

Two days later, Joshua let you take the lead, a basket and blanket in his hands as you lead the way outside. The two of you had agreed to a little picnic lunch together, to reduce any risk of someone trying to tag along with you. Everyone would be scattered now, doing their own things as Joshua let you take the lead. He could hear the sound of Seungkwan and Chan bickering in the attic as he climbed up and into the church, and the tell-tale sound of Hansol’s warm laugh at an argument that was anything but serious. The two of you had passed Mingyu and Wonwoo on your way out, and he’d seen Seokmin go searching for Jihoon with Minghao tailing alongside him. Some of the others must still be out, finishing up their chores for the day. Joshua saw Jun on the way out, making his way back inside with an empty basket from doing laundry in his arms, and merely gave him a small wave.

You guided him out and to the same shady spot he sat with you on your second day. Together, you spread the blanket out before sitting together, chatting idly for a while..

“Joshua?” You suddenly said. “Tell me what you can see.”

His eyes crinkled a little with delight. Oh, how cute of you. He began to list things in a calm, even tone: the trees that grow thicker down the path to the lake, the river that ran near the two of you (and the shimmering of scales that are easier to see now, with the sunlight hitting them), the pebbles that were pressed into the dirt. He could hear the sound of your breathing, leaves rustling, the babbling brook... And he could feel the plush fabric underneath the two of you, the warm breeze as it kissed his skin in a way he wished would be replaced by something (someone, his mind corrected) else...

And even though the two of you had moved on from that sense, he smiled as he looked at you: “And I see you.”

Over two weeks of you being there, and Joshua felt as though he’d fallen for you too quickly. Too easily. Maybe in another life, this would have taken far longer. He would have courted you the right way, with dinner dates and long walks where he had to build up the courage to ask if he could hold your hand (out of respect for you rather than insecurity for himself: not all people enjoyed the kind of casual skinship that Joshua often saw Seungkwan partake in with...well... everyone). Maybe he should have asked you on the walk back how you felt, exactly...Yet his confidence had dwindled slightly. He felt something for you, yes, but how was he to be sure that it was love?

So he’d give himself a little longer instead. Enough time to know for sure that the enamored feelings he was almost certain of were what he thought they were. Every time a new person came, there was always this honeymoon period of adoration for them. For Joshua, it was the warmth of a need to welcome and care for a new person, and he knew himself well: it’d only last a week or two, three at the most, before it became something comfortable in his chest rather than an ever present flutter that punctuated his every action. Even if his gaze would drift down to your lips (a sign, in his eyes, that this was not the normal love he felt for new people)... He needed time to be sure.

Barely into your third week of living with them, Joshua woke up to the sound of you panicking.

He was far from the first person awake, though. You had curled up across the room, happy to be in Seokmin’s warm embrace since he was feeling particularly cuddly tonight, and you’d startled several of the others closer to you. He jerked up, running a hand through his hair to comb it back to his face as he watched you panic. The others had already taken to comforting you to no success. Seokmin kept an arm around you, trying to calm you down while your words were slammed together in this endless dribble, like water from a faucet coming out all in one heavy blast. Chan had reached out, trying to take your hand and wipe your tears as you kept trying to talk about the dream you’d had. Seungkwan spoke over you plenty, alongside Minghao, as they all tried to get you to slow down and breathe. You could talk afterward, yet you didn’t seem to listen. All Joshua could tell was that you had fought with Minghao in this dream, and then you ran away and ended up hurt, terrified no one was coming for you.

He kicked off the blanket, pulling himself free from the space between Seungcheol and Jeonghan with ease. Several others had woken up at this point, too, and he could hear Seungcheol mumbling something to Jeonghan as he was roused, too. Joshua, on the other hand, was more focused on getting over to you, falling to his knees in front of you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s okay. It’s okay,” he reached for your hands, and, through your tear-filled gaze, your eyes met his own. “I’m here--”

All within seconds, you’d begun to move in for comfort, and he easily pulled you into his chest. Soon enough, he had sunk down to where he was sitting, letting you sob into his shirt as he stroked your back. His head leaned against your own, eyes fluttering shut as he focused on comforting you.

“It’s okay,” he said again in that low, soothing voice, “I’m right here. Just breathe for me, darling, okay?”

As if the words finally broke through to you, this time carrying some meaning to them, you gave him a shaky nod before squeezing your eyes shut tight. Your breathing staggered, and Joshua began to take in slow, deep breaths with you. Just to make sure you didn’t feel like you were alone now. He raised his head as you kept breathing, and he looked around at the sea of concerned faces that surrounded him now. Some of them were still half asleep (Mingyu and Hansol, Joshua noticed, and maybe Soonyoung, too), but they’d gathered around. They were a community, after all. This was far from the first time someone had a bad enough dream to evoke such a strong reaction (Joshua remembered plenty of incidents right offhand), and it created this understood feeling between them all: we check on each other, and we go from there. If you didn’t want to talk, they wouldn’t force you to.

You had realized that you disturbed everyone soon enough, and already began to apologize over and over, trying to make up a good enough reason to justify getting so upset over a bad dream. Joshua gently shushed you instead.

“It’s okay,” he repeated again. “You just had a bad dream. It happens to all of us.”

Which was enough to prompt Chan into bringing up how he woke up with a scream his first week there. He couldn’t remember what the dream was anymore, but it was bad enough that the others had to calm him down, too. He thought it was something to do with his life before, but Joshua remembered what it was. Chan had dreamed that he’d been kicked out of the group because he failed them in some way. Seokmin reached over, taking your hand in his, gently running his thumb across your knuckles as he shared his own story: he fought with Mingyu early into the latter’s first days with the group, and had a bad dream a while after of the fight getting worse.

They shared their pain with you without reluctance. They were human, too, after all: they had bad dreams and bad mornings, and sometimes they’d wake up crying like this too. Joshua just cradled you to his chest the entire time, though, tracing slow circles onto your back as you listened. Despite the stories being shared, you didn’t share your own now that you were calm enough that you could get it across better. No one pushed you to, though, past Wonwoo’s gentle question of whether you wanted to talk about it more. You had shook your head, curling up closer to Joshua before saying that you felt better now, thanks to all of them. They’d all started to go back to bed, Seungkwan telling you to wake him up if you needed to talk; he would happily listen if you needed him (or the two of you could go on a walk, too, if that’d help).

Joshua gently nudged you to get your attention. “What do you want now?” He asked softly. “You wanna go back to bed? I can get you some water if you want.”

You shook your head. “Can... Can I sleep with you, actually? You holding me helps...”

The surprise of your request made him grow a little flustered. He’d always be open to cuddling with you, but for you to say something like that...

He nodded, though, and brought you back over to where he’d been sleeping. Seungcheol wordlessly shifted over to make room for you, already grabbing extra pillows and blankets to help make you as comfortable as possible. Soon enough, you were curled up in Joshua’s arms again.

Over your head, Joshua had met Jeonghan’s gaze. His eyes flickered down to you for just a moment, and Joshua...

Well. He knew what Jeonghan was trying to ask. He merely nodded, and he watched as his friend nodded in return, understanding. A moment later, he’d seen the way you shivered slightly, and Jeonghan slid a little closer to ensure that you would be warm between the two of them.

Joshua loved you. Plain and simple. And now he was sure that both Jeonghan and Seungcheol knew (as well as every other person in that room). Everyone but you, hopefully. If he was going to tell you soon (and he would, he knew he would if he thought he had a chance), he wanted to do it right. But only when you were ready for that kind of relationship with him.

(And maybe he should call it overconfidence, but... Joshua had a pretty strong feeling that you loved him back.)

As much as Joshua didn’t want to leave you the next morning, it was Mingyu who gently nudged him awake, asking in a low voice if he’d come help with breakfast. He agreed, watching you sleep for a moment longer after Mingyu left him, and he slowly untangled himself from him. When you began to stir away, he gently shushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he told you to go back to sleep for a little longer. You’d ended up turning over, reaching over for Seungcheol, who barely roused before he cuddled a little closer to give you further comfort. Joshua pulled himself from his blankets, watching the wordless way that Jeonghan filled the space he was leaving, eyes meeting his for a second in a silent go on, I’ve got them.

Mingyu was already working on breakfast when Joshua came in, his conversation with Seokmin coming to a halt. The two greeted him casually enough, and Joshua was put to work soon enough.

“Josh?” Seokmin said after a few minutes, earning a glance from him. “You and Mouse...”

Joshua said nothing at first, working on. Oh. It must be obvious now, then. Is this something he’ll have to address with everyone? “We’re only friends.”

“We know,” Mingyu said. “That’s not what we’re asking.”

You don’t need me to say it out loud, Joshua wanted to say. Because they knew: everyone had to, right? Last night was just... proof that the initial affection he held for you within your first days never went away. That it merely blossomed into something stronger. Barely a few weeks into you living with them, and you’d somehow captured his heart so easily. He didn’t want to call it all-out love, because love took longer to sow. Infatuation fit better. He, for the lack of a better word between “infatuation” and “love,” liked you.. a lot.

He waited until everyone, save for you, had filed in for breakfast. They were quiet, a few whispers about you flying around the table, and Joshua... Well. Joshua wasn’t an idiot: he saw the concerned glances people kept sending him. The way no one addressed him, but kept clearly talking about him.

And then he finally spoke up, “Don’t tell them.”

No one spoke. They merely exchanged looks, all knowing at this point.

“Not now,” Joshua said. “I’ll tell them when they’re ready.  I’m not putting that burden on them this soon.”

It was still tense, but Seungkwan was the one who finally looked up from his breakfast. “Joshua... I think they like you, too.”

He wanted to say something. Anything. His face grew warmer at someone actually speaking the thought aloud. He thought you did, too: but he didn’t want to define your feelings in his mind. It would set expectations on you that he wasn’t comfortable setting: if you liked him back, then he’d want to hear you say it out loud. Not now, of course, but when you were feeling better. He knew the effects of a shitty dream all too well.

Chan barely touched his food before he excused himself, saying something about taking a walk before he’d start on his share of the chores. Joshua saw the concerned look Hansol and Seungkwan shared, and the gentle nod toward where Chan had left that Seungcheol gave them: go on. The two excused themselves as well, getting up and following after him quickly.

Joshua wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t the only person who felt more for you. He knew Chan did. He thought Cheol did, too, but Joshua knew that neither would stand in your way of pursuing who you loved. Whether it be them or someone else, they would accept it and learn how to move past their feelings. Joshua would do the same, after all. He loved you and your happiness. And if you would be happier with someone else.. Then Joshua would support you wholeheartedly while he took the time to heal.

That’s what love was supposed to be, wasn’t it?

Something weighed in the pit of your stomach for most of that day. Everyone had been concerned at breakfast that morning (which, to be fair, hadn’t surprised you in the slightest), and you had waved them off. You weren’t ready to talk about your dream quite yet, not until you tried to focus on the center of it all. By some stroke of luck, you’d found Minghao painting by himself--sitting at a bare space of wall that’d only been painted green in preparation. He’d been painting a circle of blue, merely glancing up as you came closer before greeting you casually enough.

You slowly sank down next to him when he invited you to. “Um... Minghao?”

He heard the caution in your voice, and it made him lower his brush, turning to you. “Is something wrong?”

“Did... Did I do something?” You said slowly. “I mean. I don’t think I did, but--I had a dream that you were mad at me, and--and I just started overthinking and--”

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, plain and simple. For a moment, his gaze flickered past you, but before you could turn to see what he was looking at, he spoke up again. “If I was, you’d know. We’d talk about it eventually.”

Relief hit you all at once, and you let out a sigh. “Good...” You’d toyed with your sleeve, still feeling a slight nervous edge as you sat there with him. “I just... I had this dream where everyone seemed upset. But you--”

His gaze flickered up again, and then back to your face before he finally looked past you one final time. “Stop standing around and either sit with us or go.”

You turned, and Joshua had been lingering nearby. “Oh. Shua...”

“I can go--”

“No,” you said, “it’s okay. You can stay if you want. I don’t mind talking about it now.”

Joshua slowly nodded, making his way over before he sank down next to the two of you. He watched you for a moment, waiting to see if you would continue.

And soon enough, you did. “Anyway... I don’t know why everyone was upset, but you were the only one who spoke up and said whatever happened was my fault.”

Minghao furrowed his brow, looking up. “But you don’t know what happened?” When you shook your head, he continued. “I can’t say I wouldn’t be mad if something bad happened--”

“I ran away,” you said. “I don’t know why, but I just decided I’d leave for good since you all were better off before I came here.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. He merely shared a concerned glance with Minghao, who, too, seemed to be at a loss for words.

“We love you,” was what Minghao said a second later, voice softer than before. “If something bad happened, we wouldn’t kick you out.”

“He’s right,” Joshua said. “We wouldn’t--”

“You didn’t,” you said. “I decided to just... Remove myself from the equation.”

That... was different, to be fair. But what could cause them all to be so upset that you felt that was the only option? To run away and live on your own instead? They were a community: no one should have to live a life of complete isolation. Seungcheol was always adamant about that after his own time alone.

“I know I wasn’t warm to you when you first came here,” Minghao said after a moment, “but I don’t want you to leave. You’re one of us now.”

With a slow nod, you let his words sink in. Us. Although you knew they’d all embraced you with open arms, letting you into this community, this family they had so lovingly come together to form... It still meant a lot to hear that you were a part of it. That they loved you.

Minghao looked back at the scene he’d been working on, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Do you have any ideas on what I should paint? I wanted to paint a pond, but...”

Joshua looked to you. “Mouse?”

“How about... ducks?” You suggested casually enough. “A little family of ducks.”

Minghao nodded after a moment, taking your suggestion into account before he began to wash his brush. “A family of ducks it is, then.”

You stood up, thanking Minghao for the talk as you went to leave him and Joshua behind. Yet Joshua rose quickly, following after you and stopping you once you were far enough to not be overheard by Minghao.

“Did you have any more bad dreams?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t. Thank you for being there, though. It felt like cuddling with you was all I needed.”

He chuckled. “Well,” he said, “all you have to do is wake me up and I’ll be there from now.“ He took your hands in his, swinging them slightly. “I always have room for you, alright?”

Your nose had crinkled when you smiled, giggling. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You slowly let go, taking a drifting step back. “Thank you, Joshua. I’ll keep it in mind.”

It was strange. Sure enough, you woke up that next night, sobbing again. It wasn’t as bad as the first time, but Chan had woken up Joshua for you when you asked him to. Instead of merely trying to soothe you back to sleep then and there, he glanced around before he gently pulled you to your feet, guiding you out of the room to make both of you a warm cup of tea. He sat next to you, watching the slow sips you’d take, cheeks still wet with tears. Despite the urge to go ahead and ask, to figure out what upset you this time, he let you have your space. The tea seemed to calm your nerves, and he merely waited for you to make the next move: if you wanted to go back to bed, he’d offer the spot next to you again. Or you could go back to Chan, who Joshua was sure was still lying awake, waiting to know if you were fine. When you finally lifted your head, meeting his gaze, you asked to talk about it.

This time, your nightmare was about Wonwoo. He’d fallen sick--really, really sick--in your nightmare. You swore you could still feel his feverish skin from when you were checking his temperature. It was almost as if he was going to die, and the thought of that had been enough to throw you out of your dreams and back into the reality you were living in. Wonwoo was okay: that was something you could see when you first woke up. Chan had stirred, asking what was wrong, and you merely asked him to get Joshua.

“If it helps... No one’s ever been that sick before,” Joshua said, his hand on top of yours. His thumb grazed the back of your hand. “And we know how to take care of each other. I’m sure Wonwoo would have been okay.”

Something about his presence seemed to calm you easier than the others did. He sat with you a little longer until your cups of tea were empty, and soon enough he’d made a space for you once more, letting you curl up in his arms again.

The same happened the next night: Mingyu had burned his hand in that dream. The next, you were lost in the forest with an injured ankle and you were scared no one would come for you. In another, your shoulder had been injured horribly... And all Joshua could do was be there for you each night. Sometimes he’d make you tea, or the two of you would go on a short walk to clear your head, but it always ended up the same: with you in Joshua’s arms, feeling safer than you had been before. He would wake up the next morning, feeling the weight of your body against his, sleeping peacefully.

(You finally gave up after that night and started sleeping next to him permanently until you worked out whatever was causing these nightmares. Not that he was complaining: he liked having you close to him.)

Seungcheol had been watching you one night after dinner, while the group was all still together, biting his bottom lip. Joshua wondered if he thought he could figure you out had he stared intensely enough, studying your entirety as much as he could from his place across the room. Yet his calling of “Mouse,” had been enough to catch your attention, followed by, “are your dreams still bothering you?”

You looked up from the puzzle you were working on with Minghao and Seokmin, a little more flustered at the outright question. “Not really...”

“Aren’t dreams a subconscious thing?” Hansol said from his spot on the couch, curled up with Jihoon next to him. “Maybe you’re just worried about something.”

“I’m not,” you said, a little too quickly in Joshua’s opinion. “I just had a string of bad dreams. It’s nothing serious.”

“Are you sure?” Seokmin frowned. “You can talk to us--”

“I’m fine,” you said, standing up. “I’m gonna go wash up for bed.”

They let you go without a fight. No need to push you now when you were already starting to get upset. Joshua merely said he’d go try to talk to you, just to make sure you were fine--even if you weren’t ready to talk. He’d found you brushing your teeth, and you’d pouted a little at the sight of him in the entryway.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said after spitting into the sink. “Maybe tomorrow, Shua.”

He slowly drifted closer to you. “That’s okay,” he said, slowly stopping next to you. “Do you know what’s bothering you, though?”

Reluctantly, you nodded after a moment. “I think I do. But... I don’t wanna think deeply about it before bed.”

He could understand that. “As long as you aren’t bottling it up,” he said. “We love you a lot.” He reached out to brush a stray hair back into place, and his fingers lingered at your temple for a moment before he drew his hand back. “I just want you to know that.”

“I love you guys, too,” you met his gaze. “Really, Joshua. I’m okay for tonight.” You leaned in, pressing a tiny kiss against his cheek. “Just tired from doing laundry with Soonyoung and Seungkwan earlier.”

He chuckled airily, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I understand. Just don’t be afraid to tell us things, alright?”

“I won’t.” You promised. “Goodnight, Joshua.”

With you heading to bed early, Joshua... knew what he needed to do. The group was starting to disperse when he returned, and he went ahead to stop Chan before he could go with the others.

“I was thinking about going for a walk,” he said. “Do you want to join  me?”

Chan shook his head. “I’m good, Shua. Thank you--”

“Chan,” he said, a little more serious this time. “I think you should.”

Chan looked toward the others, and let out a sigh, before nodding. He understood what this was, and the two of them grabbed their shoes and began to make their way outside. Once the church doors were securely closed behind them, Joshua let out a sigh and looked up to the stars overheard, twinkling in the clear, dark sky... and then he nodded out toward the river. He and Chan walked in silence at first, making their way down the hill with slow, heavy steps, neither sure how to begin this conversation.

“I really like them,” Joshua said outright. “And I know other people do, too. In the same way, I mean.”

Chan didn’t look at him at first. “I know. I was there when you asked us not to tell them how you feel.”

“I just want to clear the air,” Joshua said, “because I know you love them, too.”

Chan met his gaze, and Joshua could see something (confidence, perhaps) waver in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it, looking away. “We’re all adults here,” he said. “I’m not going to treat either of you differently.”

“I know that,” Joshua said. “I trust you. But I don’t want any bad blood between us... and I don’t want to hurt your friendship with Mouse, either.”

With a heavy sigh, Chan shut his eyes for a moment, slowing to a stop. “As long as they’re happy, then I’m happy. I love them, Joshua, and I want them to be happy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, turning away again to kick at a pebble along the riverside. “I’d be happy no matter who they love. It’s not like they can date all of us.”

“Can’t they?” Joshua said, only slightly teasing. “You know how we are with each other. I think if we all wanted that, we’d work it out.”

Chan’s face grew bright red, even in the low light. “Don’t say things like that!” He said, pouting, “I--I don’t want to think about it when they only like you.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I mean it, though. We’re all more than just a group of people living together, though. Who knows,” he shrugged, “maybe in another life, we’d all be something together.”

“Maybe.” Chan sounded wistful as he stared off into the distance. “But they love you.”

But they love me, Joshua repeated mentally, turning the phrase over in his mind over and over. You loved him... “I think they do--”

“I know they do.” Chan said. “It’s kind of obvious now.” He pulled his hands from his pockets, looking back to the church. The two began their return up the hill, faster this time to get back inside now that they’ve cleared the air. “Are you going to talk to Cheol, too?” He paused, “I mean... It’s obvious. Isn’t it?”

Joshua let out a warm chuckle as he pulled open the doors. It was a bit obvious that Seungcheol felt... a lot for you. “It is. I’m not sure I’ll talk to him, though.”

“Why?”

“You admitted to your feelings,” Joshua said, following Chan inside as he turned to secure the door. “Cheol is the kind of person who’d rather deny them either until his feelings are gone or until the world ends if it meant they’d be happy. He’s just going to give them up--”

“And I will.” Seungcheol stood up from his chair, making his way over. “Are you two really talking about me?” He chuckled a little at the startled expression on Chan’s face. “It’s fine, Chan. Hansol mentioned the two of you left, and I had an idea why.”

“So you decided to just wait in the dark to scare us?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I thought it’d be funny. And it was,” he nodded toward Chan, “very funny to see his face--”

“But that’s not fair!” Chan suddenly cut in. “Cheol... It’s not fair that you have to give up your feelings.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Chan stammered for a moment, “I--But--It’s not--” And then stopped, collecting himself. “It is, but... You give up a lot for us already.”

“They don’t love me,” Seungcheol said, plain and simple. A fact that he had long since accepted. “They love Joshua. We’re both giving up our feelings because we care about them and want to see them happy.”

Joshua felt his heart sink a little. While Joshua would have done the same for you... It felt awful to hear it said aloud, especially from someone who felt so much for you. “Cheol--”

“It’s silly,” he said. “How hard I fell and how fast it happened... But they love you, Joshua. And I know you love them, too.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. “Cheol, I’m--”

“Take care of them.” Seungcheol tucked his hands into his pockets. “I know they’ll do the same.” He turned, musing aloud, “You know who to see about signing up to perform on their day...”

So Joshua nodded, already knowing what he needed to do. Chan walked ahead, following after Seungcheol. He needed to tell you soon, but... Surely, you could wait a little longer, couldn’t you? Just long enough for him to say it the way he felt he needed to. He made his way down, through the long passage until he came into the main room... Where Jihoon had been curled up, reading a book on the couch, humming to himself as he drummed his fingers against the edge. He wasn’t tired yet, but Joshua knew he wouldn’t go to his guitar until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He called out to Jihoon, already bringing up the song they’d been working on with Jeonghan and how he was going to try and finish it. He’d need help with getting it right, but...

Joshua knew how to make his feelings for you clear. Even if you couldn’t answer him in the moment, he’d sing it proudly, just so you knew where his heart fell.

Sometimes, all you had to do to find Joshua was follow the sound of a guitar being played. It always would lead you either to him or to Jihoon (or, rarely, Hansol), and once you came close enough, you’d be able to hear the soft way he mumbled his way through lyrics as he tried to figure them out. You peered around the entryway to the room he was in, watching the way he quietly worked on. He’d yet to notice you, and you watched the way his fingers moved to make each chord. Something about the way the sunlight flooded into the room and illuminated him made it feel as though you were looking in on a masterpiece. If only you could paint it--committing it to memory didn’t feel like it was enough to capture his beauty. Those soft brown locks fell into his face, eyes half-lidded as the lyrics he were working through (Should I talk to you or not? / I thought for a while...) barely audible. Was this, you wondered, what Eurydice felt when she looked upon Orpheus? Or how the stones felt when he traveled to bring her back, parting the way with ease, so moved by his song? Even if you couldn’t hear every word he sang, there was something so genuinely beautiful about how he seemed to lose himself in his music. It was similar to the way Jihoon did, too, as well as Hansol: they loved it so deeply, it was as though they were meant to sing in some way. Like music was one of their greatest loves, and it’d be cruel to abandon it completely.

Joshua looked up soon enough, though, and the music stopped as those pretty eyes softened when they saw you. “Hello, darling,” he called out, thoroughly amused that he had caught you observing him. It was just as love-filled as when he called you that during your second day there, too. “You can come in, if you want.”

As if bewitched to move from your place, you drifted across the room toward him, heart guiding you more than anything. Joshua always seemed to have room for you, no matter where he was: there was space by his side at dinner, at bedtime, or in conversations... and even now, when it was the two of you alone, he was happy to bring you in.

“Do you know how to play?” He asked, turning his attention to tuning his guitar--one of the chords must have been slightly off, since he’d kept trying to tune and retune it as he worked.

You shake your head. “Hansol offered to teach me once, actually,” you watched as he worked on, humming in acknowledgement.

“And?”

“I turned him down.”

Joshua lifted his head, this pretty, amused glimmer in his eyes. “You don’t want to spend time with Hansol?”

With a giggle, you gently bumped your shoulder into his. “Of course I do. I’d just... rather learn from someone else.”

He merely chuckled. “I see.”

Wordlessly, as he finally finished tuning the guitar, Joshua moved in closer to you so that he could reach around you. He brought in your hand to lay on the strings, the weight of it mostly on him still. His fingers are rough as they guide yours into place, and it made you wonder how long he’d been playing guitar.

“This is how you do Em...” His breath hit the back of your ear, and he paused to make sure you were pressing down the strings firmly enough. Then he strummed, and you could feel the vibrations through those strings. “Hear that?” He said, and when you looked at his face again, you could see this proud glimmer in his eyes. “And if you move your fingers to these chords,” he was already moving on, “you can get C...”

Joshua gently instructed you as he could. Em to C to G to D, always guiding your fingers and helping you keep them in place, and punctuating each with a strum to let you hear the difference.

“You’ll get better with time,” he said, “we’ll work on it.”

“So that means there’s a next time?”

He shifted away from you, returning to the position he’d been sitting in before you came. “If you want there to be one. I like spending time with you, you know.”

“Good.” You rested against his side. “I like spending time with you, too.”

He chuckled warmly. “I won’t tell Hansol you said that--”

When you whined his name, he merely laughed a little more, head tilting back as his eyes scrunched up with joy. Yet soon enough, he went back to what he was working on, no longer softly singing lyrics under his breath. He merely hummed along, trying to figure out the part he was working on.

“Y’know...” You began to toy with a stray strand of thread on your sleeve. “I talked to Cheol yesterday.”

“Mhm?”

For a moment, you weren’t sure how to bring it up. So you sucked in a quiet breath, before finally looking up to watch his face and try to gauge his reaction. “Joshua. What do you think love is like?”

He didn’t seem to hesitate. “I think it’s putting someone else’s needs before your own. Wanting to be close to them, too. Caring for them in a way that’s different than caring for other people.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued to speak:

“It’s the way you make me feel,” he said outright, voice softer this time, as if someone would overhear if he said it any louder. He watched the way you went wide-eyed in response, clearly not expecting him to be so forward. “I was going to tell you differently. I mean, I still will, but--”

“You love me?”

He grew surprisingly sheepish, averting his gaze before giving you the tiniest nod. Strong, warm, outgoing Joshua had been reduced to a shy schoolboy because of one little question from you. “I think I do.”

His heart hammered in his chest, and he felt as though you could hear it from how silent the room had become.

“Oh.” It wasn’t flat. Or disappointed. It was warm, and a little confused, but he could hear the tiniest thread of joy laced into it. You gently bumped against his shoulder again. “Do you want to know how I feel?”

“I do,” he said, “but...” He met your eyes again. “Will you wait?”

... Wait? You’d thought that waiting was a little pointless when the fourteen of you were living this life together. What if things were over tomorrow? Why wait forever? Wasn’t that what Seungcheol told you, too? That you shouldn’t wait to confess to him? “Why?”

“I want to say it right,” he reached out, setting his hand over yours. “Okay? Let me sweep you off your feet.”

He didn’t expect you to laugh so warmly, so full of love at how cute he truly could be. “Okay,” you said, this teasing lift to your voice something he thought you’d gotten from hanging around him so much. “Then do it.”

Joshua set aside the guitar. He stood up, turning to you and offering his hand, and he nearly chuckled at your startled reaction.

“Wait, now?!”

“Nope,” he smiled. “You’ll just have to wait for what I have planned.” He nodded his head toward the doorway, “But I don’t want to give up alone time with you yet. Do you?”

You didn’t, either. With a smile, you accepted his hand, and happily let him lead the way. Although a few others had greeted the two of you, inviting you into a game, Joshua merely told them that the two of you had already decided to go for a walk together. Before someone could try to tag along, he’d already swept you away, happy to steal you all for himself for a bit. Not that he was the only one being greedy: you liked having Joshua all to yourself, too. The way he loosely intertwined his fingers with your own, just enough to keep your hands together but not enough to trap you with him, was sweet. Although when you tightened your grip a little, just to squeeze his hand, he wordlessly squeezed back.

And if he let go of you, just to sit in a shady spot under a tree, who were you to say no when he happily offered the empty space next to him to you?

(Even if it would later net the two of you teasing from Jeonghan when he eventually found you together, hours before dinner rolled around, comfortably sleeping hand in hand.)

Celebrations were always a highlight of having this group. Yes, there was plenty of manual labor that came first... But it would always be worth it to see someone light up, getting attention dedicated to them for a night. If he could see the way you smiled every night for the rest of his life, he’d be happy with that alone. Chan had held your hand as he brought you in, bright petals filling the air as they welcomed you into the group officially. Seungkwan had placed the flower crown upon your head, lips grazing your cheek for just a second--just as everyone else did. Joshua let his lips linger against your skin for an extra second, and found himself feeling a little greedy for doing so... and for wishing that he could steal you away again. He nodded along as Seungcheol eventually did his usual toast, and smiled at the sight of Chan with his arm around your shoulder, ever the dutiful best friend to you. It was clear that everyone there loved you. If nothing else, Joshua knew that you would be loved no matter what. And if his love for you faded into something akin to friendship, it’d still be love nonetheless.

Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had performed their little song and dance routine--and Joshua had beamed the entire time. Maybe it was because you eventually settled into the seat next to him, letting him drape an arm around the back of your chair and press his side against yours. He loved the sound of your laugh, so full of genuine love for the three as they performed. Jihoon performed a medley of his songs--some new, some old, but these medleys were normal for him. Even with broken leftovers of songs he could never find it in him to complete, Jihoon made a complete experience for everyone to enjoy. Even Hansol had a song to perform, incomplete yet so uniquely him. Jun’s monologue had been written by him, Minghao’s art piece unveiled in the same dramatic flair that he always did...

Joshua pressed a kiss right in front of your ear. “Wait for me,” he said, getting up, “This is for you.”

He watched the realization cross your face as he drifted away, getting a guitar as Jeonghan came to join him. He let Jeonghan introduce the song as he prepped the stage: it was something the two of them had worked on with Jihoon, yet only recently finished together. Soon, he was sitting on one stool with Jeonghan on the other, already playing. You recognized the song soon: it’d been the one he had practiced when he told you that he thought he loved you.

I’m falling for you / falling for you... / it’s too late to escape

(And Joshua, in that moment, was certain he never wanted to. Especially when he fell asleep next to you, smiling at your sleeping face and caressing the white rose that Jeonghan had painted onto your skin.)

The song had been part one. Part two began the next day, before most of the others were asleep. He’d departed from your side early--not early enough to beat the others, but early enough that you were still comfortable in your bed. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, already moving to make his plans. He’d be making dinner with Seokmin and Mingyu tonight, and that meant he could get everything ready without looking too obvious.

It would be hard to avoid you for most of the day, but the others were a welcome help. Jeonghan would point you to him when the time came, but Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan had been tasked with distracting you for the rest of the day. That meant staying away from the garden once chores were over, and letting him take the time to make everything perfect. From the string lights that Seungkwan had found for him to the plush blanket he spread out onto the ground... He had to make this perfect.

Seungcheol had found him while he was working. “You’re telling them, right?”

He smiled. “Is it so wrong to make it romantic?”

“No,” he said, leaning against a tree. “Like I told you... Take care of them.”

“I will--”

Yet he had let out a loud, long sigh. “Seriously... They’ve been staring at you for the past few days. How can you not say something sooner? I think I’d break if they looked at me like that.”

Joshua felt the opposite, actually: Seungcheol was in love with the group. It’d take a miracle for him to tell you how he felt, and even then... He’d probably take a thousand years to do it, too. Not when it made him look as though he was playing favorites. Joshua wondered, for a moment, if that was why Seungcheol seemed so okay to give up his love for you. To let you be happy with someone else. He pushed the thought away: maybe, in another world, Seungcheol wouldn’t have to struggle with his feelings... It made Joshua feel guilty, for a moment. But he reminded himself what they both knew: you loved Joshua.

(In another world, if you loved everyone alongside him... Joshua thought he could live with that. He loved everyone else, too, after all.)

He returned inside to bring out the picnic dinner, dessert packed as well in the form of sliced fruit. Especially strawberries, which he had carefully cut the tops off of and sliced in half. It was a simple enough gesture, but one he hoped you would love.

And when you finally came to him, you laughed. “Seungkwan refused to let me leave him until Chan finally told me what was going on.”

Joshua had been sitting on the blanket, but he rose to his feet, hands outstretched for you. “Does that mean you wanted to see me?”

“Silly...” You placed your hands in his. “I’ve been dying to talk to you all day.” With ease, you slipped your fingers in-between his. “About the two of us.”

“Does that mean there is a ‘two of us?’”

He could see you grow flustered, averting your gaze for a moment as you pressed your lip together. “What do you want?”

Joshua began to lower himself down, bringing you with him to sit together. He let go just long enough to push things aside, scooting forward so that he could be closer to you. He gently took your hands in his again, squeezing them as he gathered his courage to say what he needed to say. He knew he felt something for you, that you felt something for him, and yet saying it out loud was scarier. It made it more real.

“I want us.” He ran his thumbs over your knuckles. “I want to love you while we have the chance. I’ve thought a lot about it, and... I don’t know what brought us here. I-I don’t know what brought you to me,” he squeezed your hands, “and I’m okay with whatever it is, no matter what it is. Because you’re here,” he reached forward, fingers curving around your cheek, “and I’m with you. And... And I think that’s where we’re supposed to be.”

“Joshua--”

“I love you.” His heart was racing as he said it. The words felt at home in his mouth. “And it’s okay if you can’t say it back. But... I think I’m yours if you want me to be--”

You’d lunged forward, kissing him hard and nearly sending him toppling back. His hands fly to steady you, and he shut his eyes as he kissed you back. You threaded a hand through his hair, the other cupping his cheek as you smiled into this kiss. Deep down, there was a tiny urge to just lean back. To let you take over and kiss him and... more, if you wanted it. He let his mind go blank for a moment, savoring how soft your lips felt against his own... And then he remembered.

“I,” he said as he gently pushed you back, smiling. His hair was a little messier now. “I made us dinner. And as much as I want to kiss you again...” He cupped your face, “I don’t want it going to waste.”

It earned a giggle from you, and you pecked him on the lips one quick, final time for now. “Right,” you said, leaning away. “We have time.”

That the two of you did. He’d already begun talking about how he’d been working on this earlier with the others, just to make something that would hopefully taste delicious. The others would be leaving you alone tonight, which was ideal. He wanted to be the sole object of your affections tonight and tomorrow and every day that came after, if you’d let him.

“Maybe that makes me selfish,” he said, drawing you in once more, “I can’t keep stealing you away forever, after all...”

Yet your lips slanted against his, and it made him feel free. Maybe he was never the one stealing you away. After all.. You’d stolen his heart within days of coming here. How could he steal you when he was always yours? He’d have to learn how to share you with the others again, the tiny need to keep you close to him building inside him. Just to link you to one another, like puzzle pieces that have fallen into place...

Truthfully, as long as you stood side by side with him in life... He would be happy no matter where you were. Alone or with the others, all he knew was that he wanted you with him until the end.

general taglist: @twancingyunhao​  @wonuziex​  @synthetickitsune​ @cinnamoroxie [unable to tag?] @cherryredcheol [unable to tag?] @gyulbabie​

under the sun taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx @twogyuu @strawberri-uyu @bbmyungho @thedeeppoet @heeseung-lover686  @jeonncafe  @bfwonu @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dreamhannies @yourfavoritefreakyhan  @amethyistheart @jeonnyread  @nap-of-a-starr @anidolecalledaoife [unable to tag?] @vernxnsfool

[neverchecking]

You could consider this a request but the idea was too good to pass and I'm sure you'll be feral and foaming at the mouth if it wasn't in ur req box the moment it actually opens. So I'm writing this here for you to keep in your inbox before I forget and you'll mull it over and keep it preserved until it's time for requests to flood in again—

Remember Sadistic Reader? I bring u this: Dom! Sadistic! Reader x Sub! (Any of the chain) 🧍‍♀️

A reader who, after their little vixen side is revealed, it comes into play in the bedroom. ESPECIALLY in punishments. Maybe darling goddess wasn't pleased at the method they used to rid off a vermin, or rather maybe they were upset how nearly reckless their way of handling the pest was that they nearly got themselves caught. Sure, they didn't get hurt or get caught in the end, but their safety was on a tightrope and Reader couldn't help but be concerned and if the poor Link brushes it off as it's fine? Boi are they having it in the bedroom.

But the twisted part is that they probs did it purposely too, because they were much too starved for reader's attention. Too bad Reader knows this as well, oh they know. But did they really have to go through such unnecessary lengths? It's a bit unfortunate, but none of them really thinks it's as unfortunate anyway; Reader knows they enjoy being edged for a long time like the freaks they are until when the time that they deemed fit to let them come undone comes, and Reader will sit back and enjoy them wither under her touch until the sun rises.

She could only wonder how Hylia, much less Zelda even— would think of seeing their chosen champions a withering mess before them without her even lifting a finger to touch them. But whether or not the musing was said aloud only falls on deaf ears, leaving Reader to relish the show of seeing her feral handsome guard dog be reduced to a pathetic puppy.

(u can make it freakier and make this the entire chain being punished and Reader is just watching them—)

Alright I'm out bye—

Bestie. My cinnamon apple. The absolute gem of my life.

This. Every part of this. I didn't necessarily do request more imagine-

So, imagine Reader just giving them the look the second they step back into the inn they've chosen to stay at. A look that just spells danger in bright flashing letters along with a sharp frown that shoots of a matching flare.

Imagine the Link immediately knowing that he's in deep shit the moment he sees that look. His ears are going back and his shoulders are hunched. His steps immediately become slower and he debates dropping to his knees then and there, begging for forgiveness right then and there.

Imagine Reader silently watching him, assessing him, waiting to see his reaction. When he doesn't give her one, she's scoffing softly before turning on her heels, beckoning him to follow with one finger calling him forward.

Imagine Link stumbling over his feet, staying just one step behind his Goddess, watching her ever neutral expression. It doesn't shift though. Doesn't give away anything. It's frustratingly even and doesn't give him anything to go off of. Should he plead with her? Beg her? Kiss the very ground she walks on for just an ounce of mercy?

imagine the Link tries to brush it off, heaven forbid, or even go as far as insisting that it was no big deal. He's waving a hand flippantly all while feeling a bead of sweat tickle his spine. This feeling of not knowing eats him alive. He hates it. But he wouldn't dare question, much less talk back to his Goddess. That would be a field day for the rest of the chain.

imagine the Reader's gaze turns razor sharp and her steps suddenly stop. He's stumbling over himself in an effort to keep the distance between them. She's stepping closer and closer before her fingers, intricately delicate but just as iron clad, are pinching his cheeks and pulling him closer to her own face. There's a look in her eyes that tells him everything he needs to know. She knows.

Imagine the Link immediately bowing before her, his face scrunched in terror as he tries to think of a way to fix the situation. He knew he was being sloppy. He knew that it would come back to his Goddess because he ensured it would. He just didn't expect for it to feel this way. Of course, he never wanted to worry her, never- that would be sacrilegious- but he had just felt so...withdrawn from her presence. Like an addict who had gone too long without a hit. And It was brutal.

Imagine Reader is doing nothing but watching him for a tense second. Determining what punishment is worthy enough of this crime. She cannot be too cruel. That would make her no better than that wretched Hylia. Or, heaven and hell forbid, Zelda. No, this had to be as fair as it would be memorable. Something that could be seen as enjoyable at first before the overstimulation buzzed their veins and poisoned their minds.

Imagine Reader tying their hands to the bedposts, along with the Link's ankles before teasing them unlike ever before. Dragging feathers up and down their dripping shaft. Circling the head of their cock with a small shard of ice and watching it melt in delicious little drips. Maybe even letting candles burn and fall around the plain of their stomach, watching it harden before doing it again.

Imagine Reader doing this over and over and over again, until the Link is little more than a whimpering mess, pleading with her for forgiveness. Crying that he would never do it again, never dream of worrying her like he had done. Singing his hail Mary's and howling her hymns. Being nothing but a broken soul for her to weave and knit into whatever she wishes. Whatever suits her cause.

Imagine Reader tauntingly cooing over how shattered he is beneath her. How she had him so tightly wound around her finger, ready to snap the second she let him. How she knows he knows that he is nothing like the hero Hylia had crowned. That Zelda had deemed worthy. He is nothing to them, but everything to her. And she'll cherish their souls and hearts. He knows she will.

Imagine Reader making damn sure the lesson is truly sticking before letting up even just the slightest.

Imagine the rest of the chain (Minus Wind of course) being able to do nothing but watch. To simultaneously both learn the same lesson and acknowledge a new one.

One being that Their Goddess is just as benevolent as she can be strict. Never malicious, and never vindictive, but insistent on them learning and living with the knowledge that she views them as worthy. Not as Heroes, but as people. Her followers.

And she would never let anything happen to her followers.

Someone recommended calling this the Sweet but Psycho AU and I'm kinda digging it.

[84reedsy]

Okay but picture Scott, Roddy or whoever you think fits this best saying this to you " You know i love you right? Good, because im about to fuck you like i don't"

Yeah...I went with Scott...

Scott Hall was in one of those moods. One that told Michele to steer clear of him until he cooled down.  He would never hurt her,  but to avoid a fight or making things worse,  she kept herself busy in the bedroom, folding clothes,  organizing the bathroom and finally settling on reading a book she'd been putting off for way too long. 

A heated call with his ex, a contentious conversation with his boss, and her credit card statement arriving in the mail - all three within the matter of an hour understandably set him off. Making herself scarce was the best move. 

She could hear him stomping around,  mumbling to himself as he moved through the house as if his little tantrum would solve his problems. She smiled behind the pages as she turned them.  Scott could be such a hot head,  but he always more than made up for any cold shoulder. 

She felt bad that part of it was her doing,  but if he'd just let her get the mail, he'd have never even seen the bill. The dark stare over the top of the creased paper directed at her as she'd walked in his office made her shiver even now as she thought back to it. 

“When were you going to tell me about this?” He had dangled the paper in front of him.  She'd fidgeted, knowing she'd broken her promises to watch her spending. 

“I was gonna…”she lied through her teeth.  Scott only huffed an annoyed sigh out of his nose as he stood,  nearly slapping the paper on his desk. 

“Just my fucking lucky day isn't it….” He'd growled, walking away to blow off steam. 

She could hear him now in his gym, weights being racked, music playing loudly,  and even his strained grunts echoed through the halls as he tried to burn off his frustrations. He hadn't even bothered to come to the room to change into workout clothes.  He had to have been pretty upset to work out in jeans. 

Michele tried to think of ways to make it up to him - she could get a job to work while he was gone to help pay it back. She wrinkled her nose,  rereading the same page a second time due to her own distraction. She would apologize and mean it of course…but that probably wouldn't be enough. 

“He likes a good steak…” she mused aloud, wondering if a nice dinner reservation might help.  But her trying to throw money at a problem seemed to be part of the issue,  so she scratched that idea, “Maybe a little excursion to The Landing Strip…” Scott still enjoyed a visit to a strip club or two. Michele had to admit she didn't mind him going and she loved going with him even more. 

Of course being around that many naked women turned him on. She did not feel jealously when he'd slip a few dollars in a g-string or ample cleavage, because only she was what his hands touched. They'd barely make it to the car before he was inside of her in some way. 

Michele grinned thinking about the time they only made it to the car…but not in it.  It was a miracle they weren't arrested. Perhaps there might be a private room available for her to reserve. 

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

Scotts muscles bulged under the heavy weights. He pushed himself past his limits. His negative energy was coursing through him. He pressed the heavy bar upwards a few more times before racking it safely above him.  His chest was taut and sweaty,  rising and falling quickly with each labored breath. He sat up,  raking his hand through his damp hair. Grabbing his discarded shirt, he dried the sweat from his face. 

Adrenaline and testosterone were fueling him now,  the irritation he felt dictating both. He had a lot more things he'd thought of to say to his ex.  He had a few choice words for his boss that he honestly hoped the tiny man would choke on. 

And as for Michele, while she didn't purposefully push his last button - she'd sent him over the edge today. Whether or not she had so on purpose, she was here and she'd have to deal with what he wanted. 

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

Michele hung up the phone,  knowing the room she'd reserved might have been a risk with the deposit she'd put down. But she seem his cares all melt away before with a good lap dance.

She was feeling proud of herself, smug as she tried to find where she left off in her book. She jumped though when the door to their room flew open and Scott stalked in, slamming it behind him with his foot. She looked at him wide-eyed and holding her breath a little. 

There was a hungry look in his eyes and it was anything but gentle. 

“Scott, I-” she started with an almost meek voice,  but he cut her off abruptly.

“I don't want to hear it,” he said bluntly. She felt her mouth grow dry as her book fell to her lap slowly. 

“You know I love you, right?” He asked, already knowing the answer as she nodded slowly, not taking her eyes from his. Her heart hammered heavily against her chest,  knowing what he wanted and what he would do to get it. 

“Good,” he undid his belt roughly, slipping it out of the belt loops in an aggressive, swift move,  “because I'm about to fuck you like I don't,”

[dichotomousvariable]

hiiiii! i'm kat (she/her) and this is my son wooseok!

i'm super excited to be here and really looking forward to plotting!!

i will probably be faster to reply on disc (thegongoozler) but tumblr ims are fine too if you prefer. you can find his about here. i'm still working on his bio, but it's in a sort of bulleted form here for a basic timeline!

y'all know the drill. infodump and potential plots under the cut!

wooseok was born in new york city and lived there until he was about 12, so he's fluent in english as well as korean (his parents raised him speaking both).

wooseok is an only child, and as such, his parents were always heavily involved in his business, for better or for worse. (usually for worse)

he's still kinda scared of his dad but that's another story.

as far as they know, he's just doing a single program for comp sci, but he picked up the dual degree for music theory ... haha oops

follow your passions, kid (he feels very guilty for lying.)

wooseok's power is telepathy, it manifests for him in two ways: hearing others' thoughts and memory viewing

hearing others' thoughts happens automatically (when he doesn't have a patch), and can very quickly get overwhelming

as such, wooseok likes to keep the patch on as much as possible. it's really hard to enter a room and hear like 20 people as if they're talking aloud

"hey wooseok, you ok?" "I Can't Hear You" (the room is silent)

he's trying to get better at dealing with it/tuning some voices out, because he knows using the patch as often as he does isn't safe. when he really focuses, he can sometimes get them to quiet to a manageable level, but it never completely goes away, and it takes a lot of brainpower.

he doesn't know this for sure, but practice does make perfect in this case! come, be his friend, help him grow! make him practice instead of just hiding!

so the first time he used a patch was like the first time he experienced silence and he's still chasing that high

the secondary application of his telepathy--the memory viewing--is more of an ordeal. it requires sustained physical contact, is very tiring, etc

for subplot, he's the treasurer for together for daehan! realistically, his thoughts/opinions fall somewhere between the two groups, but he's been in this position for a while and... he doesn't like change.

generally he's a friendly guy, and he wants to make more friends.

he can sometimes come across as standoffish though because when that patch starts to run out he has a short period of time before things get too overwhelming (or he's just focusing really hard on keeping others quiet)

potential wanted plots...

wooseok needs friends, particularly friends who won't let him get away with cancelling plans as much as he probably does

as mentioned above, friends that help him to practice being okay without nullivi could be fun!

people who are musically inclined to do jam sessions with and bond over music!

he really loves video games and WILL play them with your muse! he will also ask if they want to play fun little games he coded as projects.

friend who would see him slapping a fresh patch on super fast and be like "dude is that safe"

idk there's always shenanigans with telepathy/hearing thoughts. if your muse so much as thinks a compliment he's gonna blush so that's fun

i'm cool with pre-est, discussion, anything! i love plotting so please come at me with anything and everything

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone… 

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did. 

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right. 

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched. 

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny. 

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks. 

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then? 

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[iamaslutforcoffee]

Home Sweet Home chapter eight

Tap tap tap tap

That's all she could hear in her first period class was that ever so faithfully annoying tapping sound.

Tap tap tap tap

"Eddie for the love of fuck could you stop?!" She yelled at him in a hushed voice.

"I'm not doing anything, m'lady!" He replied, turning his head to look at her.

She frowned and continued on listening to what ever english lesson Mr.Lay had planned for the day.

She shook her head and continued trying to pay attention when she heard the infamous tap tap tap of Eddie's pencil against his desk and she turned once more staring him down.

"Is this freak bothering You, Eloise?" She heard a voice whisper to her. She turned to the other side of her and saw that the voice belonged to none other than Jason Carver, school jock and king dick head of Hawkins High.

"Totally is, im just trying to learn" she mused, waiting for the right moment. Eddie scoffed in shock, knowing very well what was going to happen.

"Just say the word and ill take care of him. He's probably trying to recruit you into his satanic cult!" Jason replied, staring Eddie down.

"Eh, too late. Already recruited me when he was balls deep inside me couple years back" she sat back against her chair, smiling as she said it. Jason looked at her like she was satan incarnate and sat back defeated.

"Freaks..." he mumbled, not realizing that both Eddie and Eloise had superb hearing.

"Atleast its interesting. Must be really boring trying to fuck a basket ball hoop" Eddie scoffed back. Then Mr. Lay peered at the three, giving a silent warning for them to knock their crap off or they'd be in detention.

Eloise looked back at Eddie's journal, seeing drawings and what was obviously plans for DND that following Thursday.

Curious, she started to talk to him about  the game.

"Where do you even find motivation and inspiration for this kind of stuff Eddie" she spoke, peering at his drawings and notes.

"I really don't know, it just comes to me."he replied, smiling at her.

His imagination persistently amazed Eloise, and she could only hope that Harrison got some of the dreamer attitude that Eddie had.

"Well, Eddie. I think this'll be your year. We're getting you to graduate if I have anything to do with it!" She spoke, the bell finally rung and as students scrambled to get their things and get out the door, Eddie watched Eloise leave the room and his heart beat just  a little faster in that moment.

~~

As the school day continued on, it was finally time for her last period before school ended. She liked to take the time to spend the last hour with Harrison, seeing as it was her study hall period and she was aloud to go to the children's section of the school to do so if she wished.

She walked up to the counter, greeted by their secretary.

"Hi, I'm here to see Harrison" she spoke confidently, running a hand through her hair and smiling.

"Oh, he's just outside the doors with Eddie. You're free to go on back, Eloise." The older woman spoke kindly, and Eloise knodded walking through the doors to see Eddie and Harrison outside on the swing set.

Their backs were turned to her, and she simply leaned against the doorway watching them with content broad across her heart.

This by far is exactly what she dreamed for all those nights alone. While she prayed her mother healed from the cancerous cells in her body, she dreamed of a family with Eddie. She dreamed about how rambunctious he would be, how he would incorporate being a father into being a dungen master. The whole idea brought tears to her eyes most nights because she thought that she would never be able to see it, but here she was. Watching as it unfolded right before her very eyes and again it brought tears.

Eddie and Harrison were on the swing set, Eddie pushing Harrison and the boy laughing and smiling.

If there was one thing about Harrison Wayne, he was enamored with his father.

Eloise smiled and pulled her phone out, taking a rather great quality picture of the two and saving it for later. She watched as the two absent-mindedly played, Eddie getting worn out by the young child's energy.

"Ya know, kid. Id say your mother and you were the best thing that had ever happened to me." Eddie spoke gently to Harrison, his eyes never leaving those of his son's.

"The feeling is mutual, Eddie." Eloise spoke, moving from her position and walking towards the pair.

Eddie looked at her, Harrison on his shoulders and smiled.

"There you are, I wondered where you were. I figured since you always have him I could give you a break and let you actually study and I spend time with him.. seeing as I have a LOT of catching up to do" Eddie spoke gently, his usual goofy smile adorning his face.

Eloise smiled, and stood on her toes to give Harrison a quick peck on his cheek.

"Hey, what about me?" He began to pout, and she laughed.

"Jealous of a toddler, are we?" She spoke, cupping his face.

"Of him? Of course. Have you seen his jawline and dimples? Kids gonna be a Heartbreaker forsure" Eddie mused, and Eloise kissed him. She got lost in his lips for just a moment when Harrison leaned down, wanting his mother.

She smiled and plucked him from Eddie, holding him on her hip. The final bell wrang, signaling the end of the school day much to the amusement of Eloise. 

"Say, how about we go on a proper date some time? Just you and me?" Eddie asked, helping her wrangle Harrisons and hers things together and getting them to her car.

"Sure, Eddie. I'd like that a lot" Eloise smiled at Eddie, his usual boyishly cheesy grin returning to his face once more.

"Great, what do you say uh.. Saturday? I'll come pick you up. Wayne wants to watch his new nephew so we can give your brother and dad a break" Eddie spoke, leaning down into the driver's side window.

"Saturday is perfect, babe." Eloise replied and smiling. Eddie gave her quick peck and she pulled off in the direction of their home.

She was quite exited that for once, things seemed to be going right for her and her son. She was happy that Eddie seemed to be stepping up, that Wayne didn't hate her for not keeping in contact and telling them about Harrison. Life was getting to be great for her and she couldn't be more happy.

~~

1027 words.

[gcldfanged]

💋

The warm glow of paper lanterns strung up on wires drowned out even the darkest shadow, colorful decorations and advertisements posted on each stall lining the winding alleyways of Sector One's immigrant district. There was hot food and cold drinks, various games of chance available to be swindled by as the night stretched on- Everything illuminated by the distant pop and crackle of fireworks against a backdrop of hazy indigo.

Jae-hyo couldn't help but smirk as he watched Angeal apply the same focus and single-minded concentration on goldfish catching as he would with a serious sparring match, eyes narrowed and steady hands poised. The wire paddle of sorts was covered by a thin layer of translucent rice paper, prone to breaking if too much moisture soaked into the delicate material.

"Ah, you're trying to go about it the wrong way- There's kind of a trick to it that they never tell you, of course..." he explains, handing over a few gil to buy his own catching net.

Slowly, he slips the paddle into the water at a shallow angle and does nothing, waiting for the right moment to strike. Before Hewley can ask what the trick is, a small black and orange fish swims over part of the rice paper, prompting Yoon to flick it into his waiting rice bowl full of water. He manages to land three more before the paper finally gives out, tearing in the middle.

"It takes a little practice, but once you get the hang of it, it's actually pretty easy."

He guides his hands over Angeal's and attempts to help him better understand how slowly to move the paddle, keeping it close to the surface of the pool, but deep enough so the fish won't notice it.

"Okay... Now- Go for it, man!" he barks out, gesturing to a rather ugly black moor with telescopic eyes. Jae looks about as invested as an extreme sports fan might be as the SOLDIER seems to get the timing just right, landing the fish into the small plastic bowl in his left hand.

"You got 'im, nice! See, not so hard, right?" Yoon laughs, handing off the quartet of little orange and black goldfish he'd won to Angeal. The First traded him for the single black fish, Jae-hyo peering down at the big-eyed thing.

"Oh man, it's so ugly, it's like he circles right back around to being kinda cute..." the Turk muses aloud, glancing back at Hewley and flashing a toothy sliver of a grin.

It was normally pretty difficult to catch Jae unawares, but having a good looking guy roughly about the size of a king behemoth gently push back the loose curtain of his wavy hair made his next funny comment dry up and die in his throat.

It's a blink and you'll miss it touch of soft lips against the corner of his mouth that really throws a wrench into the constantly turning gears of his calculating mind, so he pulls a stupid face and he's absolutely going to strangle the other man later for making him blush like a freaking girl.

"That... just reminded me of when a over-affectionate auntie goes in to buss your cheek, but you turn at the wrong moment and get it right on the lips," he deadpans, mustering up enough ire at his current predicament to glare daggers at Angeal.

"Shiva's frosty tits- Do I gotta teach you how to kiss now, too?" he asks, not anticipating an answer because he's tugging Hewley forward by the collar of his shirt to show him how they 'do it in the big city'.

[adamnagaitisnews]

Okay, it's like i have to break my promise not to write publicly, i hate it. but this one, i really want everyone to see it. first of all, i want @carolsfeelgoodstuff to read it bc she won't leave me alone and won't contact me personally.

We'll talk the concepts of YouTube and self-sufficiency.

1)YouTube.

YouTube is the world biggest platform for videos, it allows to upload the largest and the best quality videos possible. Also, YouTube is the first place anyone would go searching. I cut my vids to pieces to be able to upload every second available without violating the copyright of the original owner. Sometimes my vids get blocked, sometimes the rightholders unblock them, it's a very complicated system, and we're not talking about it today. but i always try to make everything stay on the channel the longest time possible. Why? It's done for the fans who may come not today, not even tomorrow. A year, 5 years, 10 years, whatever. It's an archive of everything in one place available for everyone from everywhere in the world. That's it. That's why i care about quality so much. Everything is categorized by folders (for the times when he is super famous ehehe) for quick search.

So, it's YouTube.

Now your favourite part. The word 'EXCLUSIVE' (my ass ™). That's where we come to the concept of

2) Self-sufficiency.

When i first started it, i was different, let's say so. I thought im gonna do something and people will love me (i know, ridiculous, ive grown up since then). It was not about archive, it was about me wishing to be included. Long story short, it failed. (i strongly believe everyone knows this story of me attacking people out of the blue like a rabid dog. Am i proud of it? No. But what's done is done.)

I had two ways. To stop doing what i was doing or to go on alone. I chose the latter :). This channel was the first thing in my life i didn't abandon after 5 minutes. I enjoyed every second of it. Editing, making covers, avoiding blocking and deciding what im gonna do next. Adam turned out a perfect muse for me. I never get tired of his face and he always inspires me to try something new. Months later, I understood that i didn't need to be included anymore, it was so enjoyable that i knew even if everyone unfollows me today, im gonna start from scratch tomorrow just because i love it. Even when it sux.

I stopped asking people here and on twitter to subscribe (i do ask on yt but it's a common practice). I became self-sufficient.

Wow! You ve read up to this! EXCLUSIVE (my ass ™).

When i discovered Branwell's vids, i was sooo excited (my ass ™), i posted an extract on twitter immediately but no one seemed interested. I won't describe the circles of hell i went through to upload it to yt in THREE, CARL, pieces to make it available all over the world. And i still wanted everyone here and on twitter to see it. The word EXCLUSIVE (my ass ™) seemed to fit the best to draw attention, bc i was absolutely sure no one saw it before. Then @wifeofbath asked me where i got it, but i was still pissed (not proud), and never responded. As simple as that.

You gonna ask me why i said no to you. Speaking both Louvel and Hamlet, when i do something i find especially appealing, i feel an urge to make a post here and on twitter. Even if no one likes it. it's a ✔️ for me. Like mission completed or something.

Speaking Hamlet in particular, first, because i wanted to gif this one myself. Hamlet is a really big deaI for me. Second, i was dumb and it took me longer than expected to find it (on rutracker, my ass!). Third, im so so so sorry to say it aloud, and please don't take it personally and for fuck's sake dont stop giffing, but like i said, i have nothing to lose. Im a rabid dog :). i stopped visiting tumblr as often as i used to because i couldn't find other people's posts through the mass of your gifs. I got irritated and just left quietly and went into post'n'go mode. Tbh i was embarrassed when you wrote me here through the question form. Also, later i found you annoying, and im sorry for that.

So these were all cases when anyone asked me for a source of anything.

Everything i post i found in open sources, it's like a sport for me. First you find it, then you post and then there's this russian roulette moment - will it be blocked or not? Or will i have to cut the shit out of it to make it available all over the world? With those videos, Im concentrated on yt only, i dont aim to upload it anywhere else, bc see pt. 1. I don't own them, i dont care who else posts them and where. Ive learned my lessons and i wanna go on in peace.

Thanks for reading this,

Seems like im finally free now,

If there are any questions, please ask, im gonna answer.

❤️,

Al

[gothsic]

hi all - just a reminder that i DO NOT condone jo's actions and he deserves to be called out for the shit he's done because he's a serious fuck up who has HURT PEOPLE and also deeply wounded any chance of getting back into people's good graces!! jo's choices are his own and he has royally fucked up his life and a lot of other people along the way. like, a lot...