#just angsty soup things

[sukunasweetheart]

Watching angsty romance films with sukuna while youre sick... biggest mistake he ever made bc hes sitting there like: 😐

while youre dramatically sobbing: 🥹😭🥺EEUEEEE 😢🥹WEEHHHHH 😭😭😭😭

Youre more emotionally vulnerable when youre sick so you start crying at every little thing, becoming a sniffling mess, especially at tearjerker films

Actually, he prefers when you cry like this, rather than your silent crying. He doesn't like you hiding things from him. Also, its funnier when youre upset in a silly way. It strikes a nerve in his chest when you're actually upset.

Imagine you plead him to feed the soup or porridge he makes for you (please? 🥺) and he does it reluctantly, even blowing on the spoon to cool it down before giving it to you. You giggle after every spoonful and he tells you to be quiet, else he's going to make you eat it yourself.

And youre awfully clingy with him, more than usual, asking to hold hands and asking him where he's going every time he stands up. "i'm just going to take a piss, jesus. Stay put."

And after he comes back, he finds you napping, having fallen into a deep sleep. Probably from the drowsy medications. Then he will freely check your temperature and change the cloth on your forehead while you're not watching him.

once you wake up again, its back to sad films. sukuna doesn't understand why you're doing this to yourself but he's not gonna put in effort to stop you if that's what you really want... the film you watch with him ends with the male lead dying, leaving his girlfriend behind...

"babe 🥹"

"what?"

"i'll never date someone else even if you die first..."

"you don't need to worry about that. i ain't dying."

"babeeee 🥹 dont die, okay?"

"i'm not dying! 💢"

you're the sick one here!! and then he demands that you go to sleep now, since youll just dehydrate yourself by exhausting your tear ducts but you say you can't yet bc youre not sleepy...

the rest of the day ends with you just doing your own thing, playing games or whatever, and him scrolling on his phone beside you until you feel tired enough

[allieebobo]

Do you have any if recommendation?

Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.

I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:

(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)

WIPs with demos

Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)

Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)

Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)

Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)

When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)

Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)

A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)

Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)

Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)

Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)

Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)

Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).

Completed IFs

Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)

Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)

The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)

Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Can I ask for Natasha x reader where one of them calls the other one by their real name and the other one freaks out because they usually call them by petnames? Thanks!

Of course! I always love fics based off this idea 💞 this is kind of angsty because I'm a sucker for that kind of stuff alright 😭 also Малыш is supposed to mean baby in Russian, but I honestly have no idea how accurate that is

Terms of Endearment (Natasha Romanoff x reader)

Warnings: mentions of insecurity/self depreciating thoughts, not really hurt/comfort but also kind of?? Idk

You and your girlfriend Natasha had always been fond of using petnames for each other, often more so than your actual names themselves. Whether it be honey, sweetheart, darling, or simply just babe, you never ran out of cutesy names to call each other. But as much as you loved hearing the never ending abundance of pet names roll off Natasha's tongue, what you didn't love was how often you got teased for it. 

You knew the other members of the team didn't mean anything by it and would stop if they knew how much it upset you, but the problem was you didn't really have a good reason for feeling that way. It seemed silly just thinking about it, childish even. So you kept your mouth shut, laughing along at their meaningless jokes as you made yourself a promise to cut down on the cheesy nicknames. 

You hoped Natasha wouldn't notice the lack endearing terms on your part, but she did, of course. She always noticed the small things nobody else picked up on. It came with the job description of being an assassin.

Although she'd noticed it, she couldn't understand why there was a sudden change in your behavior, especially when she knew how much you loved the petnames you had for each other. 

Because of this, she cut down on the petnames, too, and only used them when you were alone, hoping maybe she could solve the problem that way, even if she didn't know what it was.

It all came it a head one day when you were cooking together. It was just the two of you, everyone else either busy or in another part of the Avengers base. 

Natasha was standing by the stove, making some sort of soup. "Малыш, could you hand me the salt?" She asked after tasting it and realizing it needed something. 

The way you tensed up at the name she used for you did not fly past her, and it caused her to let out a small sigh. "Are you okay? You haven't been using nearly as many petnames for me as you used to, and I've noticed whenever I use them you seem... upset. Even when we're alone." 

You let out a sigh yourself, knowing it wouldn't do you any good to lie about it. "I... I was hoping you wouldn't notice." You began meekly, looking down. 

Natasha had a slight frown on her face as she turned towards you fully. "And why is that?" Her tone was gentle, but firm. It was clear she wasn't going to let you leave without some sort of explanation. 

"It- its not you. Or me. Its the others," you confess quietly. "I didn't really like the way they teased me whenever I called you honey or babe, so I stopped all together." 

She nodded her head, the pieces suddenly falling into place. "Ah, so that's why. At first, I thought I'd done something to tick you off." She joked, it making her heart warm to hear the laugh that came from you after. 

"No, it wasn't that, and even if it was, you know I could never stay mad at you." You said playfully, finally handing her the salt. 

She took it from you and added some to the pot on the stove before speaking again. "I'll talk to everybody, and tell them to lay off on the teasing, that way you won't have to worry about it anymore." 

You gave her a loving smile, your tone filled with gratitude. "Thanks, hon." 

She smiled back at the petname before giving you a soft kiss. "Of course, darling. Anything for you." 

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[somewhereincairparavel]

How would Jason Grace spoil you? boyfriend hcs list

author's note: ik i have an angsty jason grace prompt in my asks and i swear im working on it! But this idea just popped up on my mind and I've been thinking about it all night yesterday omgg. Let me know if you guys want a Leo/Percy/Frank version of this, I mostly write for Jason since he's my bbg but I might actually do the others this time since the idea is so cute!

I'll start off by saying, Jason is a selfcare supporter bf.

Okay so yk how the Romans in CJ have such high standards? They literally exhibit royal/regal energy, and are super fans of luxury stuff.

Jason despite being influenced by greeks would always be a roman. Whether he likes it or not, there will always be roman blood in him. So he makes these cute/simple ideas for dates/gifts but his execution is just pure sophistication. He's SO simple yet so fancy, and Ik they're contradictions but I promise I'll explain.

like this boy would make sure to run you a nice warm roman bath after you come back from a dangerous/tiresome quest to ease your muscles. Cute and simple right? Wrong. This man would buy all sorts of expensive bath perfumes, bath bombs, fragranted petals, etc to make it extra special for you.

See so this is what I mean when I say his ideas are cute, but executed in a very fancy way.

He LOVES spoiling you with self care products, like sheet masks, lotion, cleansers, hair masks, etc. like he simply does NOT care about the money, as long as his girl is taking care of herself?? That's all that matters tbh

This is mostly because Jason, as a kid soldier, never had any time for himself, the closest thing he's ever done to "selfcare" is probably take long baths + trim his hair lol

jason was blessed with his mother's ethereal actress beauty okay. So selfcare or no self care would have zero effect on him physically bc bro would still look majestic.

ANYWAYS he feels like his inner child just kinda heals when he sees you prioritising yourself and he admires it sm :((

would be ecstatic if you rope him into self care. He would be sceptical at first but then as you're applying a face mask on him he'd be like "wait this is actually so relaxing what" and you love the way his face muscles soften at that. Like he really deserves a break and some relaxation, you'd often trick him into using your skincare products intentionally bc he deserves self care.

once he felt so soothed with the lemon facemask he was wearing that he fell asleep on your shoulder and was all zzz 🥺

and would make sure to restock all your products if they run out.

he feels that the self-care has more of a mental and emotional effect on him rather than physical

Which is what matters to him

honestly?? He supports you if you want to wear makeup. Like he'd think you look gorgeous either way but if you like wearing lipgloss? So be it. You get any lipgloss you want he's paying. He just LOVES that you love yourself too :( and would do anything to make you feel comfortable.

also

Food.

This man loves investing on food. Again, it's bc he never even had the time to properly eat as a legionnaire :(

So he'd love to take you out to places and just munch on tasty food and talk. New Rome has bomb food okay. Bro just never got to eat them.

Lmao he's like everyone's grandma when it comes to food. "Have you eaten? You HAVE to eat!! I'll get you food! Go back to your room!"

would spoonfeed you soup if you're sick bc nuh uh you ain't going without eating hun 😤

hes the worried anxious mother hen bf okay fight me.

Food + selfcare = Jason Grace's love language

[deathbecomesthem]

Roomies 4 +18 ONLY

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader | 2.2K - Previous Part

*This series will/does contain smut, angst, and fluff. Each chapter will have its own warnings for any potential triggering contents.

This chapter contains some angsty feelings. The aftermath of some interesting choices between best friends.

---

The alarm is unnecessary. You didn’t sleep. You laid in this bed and let the dread build. At 3:28 in the morning, you put your vibrator back in its spot in the top drawer of your bedside table. It just laid next to you for hours, as if acknowledging it meant you had to acknowledge the fact that you and Eddie… what exactly? You don’t even know. It’s Eddie.

It doesn’t matter right now, because that alarm means you have to get up and take a shower. It means you have to get to the coffee shop and start the mundane tasks involved in over-caffeinating the general college town population. It means you can sneak out of this tiny, two-bedroom apartment before Eddie even wakes up. Thank god for the opening shift.

Except that you hear the distinct sound of the door next to your own open at exactly the same moment yours creaks open. Time stands still, both of you stare at each other like deer caught in headlights. Neither fight nor flight, only freeze. And then you realize you’re dressed in a too small bath towel and nothing else. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” you crouch a little, trying to get more coverage from the faded blue terry cloth rectangle you have wrapped around your center, “I thought you’d be sleeping. I’m sorry.”

Eddie averts his eyes after making a clean sweep from your head to your toes, and sighs, “shit, I’m sorry. I just need to take a leak. Uh, can I do that before you get in there?” Eddie’s eyes are focused on a small water spot on the ceiling waiting for your answer. The nightlight in the hallway outlet is the only illumination, but plenty to see the way the apples of his cheeks are turning tomato red.

“Yeah, I’ll wait in here,” you rush back to your room and close the door a little too hard and cringe away from it. The time spent sitting cold and naked on the edge of your bed is plenty to consider the regrets. Eddie’s seen you in your bikini, which leaves less to the imagination than the towel, but things are different.

“All clear. Have fun!” Eddie’s voice calls through the door at you, and you can imagine the grimace on his face at his own words. “Sorry, I’m just gonna go back to bed now.” You wait in your spot until you hear his heavy footsteps move past your door, and the sound of his door closing. 

What the fuck did I do. I ruined everything, that’s what I did. This is the first time you think this today, but it will be the mantra that echoes in your mind over and over. What the fuck did I do?

—

Dry skim milk cappuccino, breve latte, dirty chai, black eye. The drinks don’t stop coming for hours, and you're happy to  shut off your mind while you make the espresso machine perform for you. You ignore the way your hands tremble, over caffeinated and under rested, they still move and answer your requests without fail. Muscle memory, what a gift.

“You taking your break?” Megan points to the clock behind your head. You’ve been standing at the barista station for 4 hours, and you’ve only got 2 left for the day. You consider pushing through to the end, but can already hear your manager’s voice reprimanding you when she looks at your timecard.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in 30.” You wipe the frothing wand and rinse out the portafilters before heading to the food station for a bowl of chicken soup and a half of a stale mini baguette. Whole wheat and hard as a rock. The table in the corner is empty, so you make a bee line, grabbing a discarded campus newspaper on your way. 

You tick down stray answers in the crossword while dipping, letting the bread soak up the broth from your soup when the next page catches your eye. The classifieds. Apartment rentals. It can’t hurt to look, you think. You’d never leave Eddie in a lurch, but what if you could find something next month, let him find someone to replace you. He’d be better off anyway. He’s too sweet to say it, but it’s true.

You ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that’s yelling, this is what you always do. You run away and miss out on good things because you get scared. But you’re not just scared, you’re humiliated. A part of you thought that your little display last night would end with Eddie in your bed. That he’d know instinctively that you want him, and he’d answer your call without you having to actually say anything. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid child. 

Looking for a female roommate, no pets, 3 bedroom apartment, $175/month. You circle that one. Close to campus, nonsmoking, one bedroom unit, $250/month. A little out of your price range, but you circle it anyway. 

By the end of your lunch break you’ve got 6 leads on available apartments, a half eaten soggy baguette, and a bottomless pit of regret in your stomach. 

—

Eddie slept, but was plagued with dreams of your smiling face. That’s all that he can remember - your face accompanied by a deep longing to reach out and touch your skin. He never could, he just kept seeing and wanting, but never reaching. When he woke up for work at 11:00 in the morning, you were sitting in that corner booth at the coffee shop looking for apartments. It would break his heart to know that. 

But he doesn’t know that. He knows that he fucked up last night, even if it’s not clear how. Or why. Or what happened. If something happened. Did something happen, or did he just imagine it? Fuck this fucking noise. His mind is too busy, and it’s not saying anything that makes sense. He wants to sit down and talk with his best friend about it. Let them help make sense of things. He wants to sit with you, his head resting in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair, and tell him he’s thinking about it all wrong. He’s overthinking. It’s not as bad as he thinks.

The fact that he can’t talk to you right now means it is that bad, but he it’s useless to wallow. His work shift at the bar located beneath the hardwood floorboards of your shared apartment ends early. He’s going in before opening to do some handyman work in the bathrooms, and the prep work for the evening crew. He takes the opportunity to not work until 3:00 a.m. whenever he can, especially when Marty offers to pay him cash under the table for his troubles. It also means he can go to the good grocery store, the one that isn’t the shitty 24 hour foodmart that’s the only open joint in the tri county area at 3:30 in the morning. The peanut butter is low, and he wants to grab a can of Maxwell House - a part of him thinks he insists on keeping it in the house just to get under your skin. No Kenya AA or Brazilian Peaberry for Eddie Munson.

So, he does his work and lets his mind leave him for the hours he snakes, caulks, screws, scrubs, chops, and peels. He works in the peaceful silence of the still slumbering college town bar, and walks out several hours later with a handful of cash and grease jammed under his fingernails. The echo of your voice saying his name, Eddie!, at the height of your pleasure the night before only made his feet stumble a few times. He can let it get quieter and quieter. He can let himself forget it. What he can’t do is let one night of stupid behavior ruin something the two of you have spent over a decade building. Pussy comes, and pussy goes - but you are forever.

Pussy comes and pussy goes. He thinks again to himself. He ignores what that small voice in his head adds, but what he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you and make you his.

—

You finally come home at 5:00. It’s much later than you should be going back to the apartment. You spent the interim hours wandering the streets of downtown looking for any “For Rent” signs displayed in apartment windows. You wasted time in the used book store, running your fingers along the spines of the Science Fiction paperbacks. You sat in the arm chair in the back of the shop and looked at the battered collection of Baby-Sitter’s Club books while your eyes grew heavy. And then you decided that the only thing left to do was face the music. Of all days for Eddie to not be closing down the bar.

Eddie’s in the shower. When you open the door to the apartment, you can hear the faint sound of water running from behind the closed bathroom door. A vision of wet curls and rivulets of water running down sharp shoulder blades invades your mind for a split second, but you will it away with a sharp shake of your head. You’re tired, and you think you might be able to get away with a long evening nap that can turn into a night spent alone in your bedroom without any complaints from Eddie. Maybe. 

You spot the note as you’re hanging up your purse. It sits on the small kitchen table, red ink impossible for you to miss, in that scrawling chicken scratch that’s so familiar. 

Not sure when you’ll be home, and if I’ll be around. I ran to the grocery store earlier. I got that wine you like and grabbed a couple of cannoli. You can have 2 of them. Just 2. I swear to god, if you eat my cannoli, I will hunt you down. There’s some de-icer on the counter, since you’re incapable of getting it yourself. I grabbed your library loans while I was out. We can grab some dinner tonight if you’re up for it. 

-E

You stand holding the paper in your hand for a long time. You don’t know how long. You see the bottle of Malbec sitting on the far end of the counter next to a yellow spray bottle of de-icer. You don’t notice that the sound of the water coming from behind the bathroom door has stopped. You’re lost. Overwhelmed. You think about the time you spent furiously looking for an apartment. You think about how badly you wanted to run away - from what? From this? From Eddie? How could you ever want to run from him?

You’re still staring at his sloppily written words while you drift down the hallway. You don’t even hear the sound of the bathroom door open. When you glance up, you see Eddie. The man that bought you treats today. The man that has stepped between you and flying fists. The man that offered you a home when you didn’t have one. 

In the 5 seconds you look at him, your eyes see more than should be possible. His wet curls cling to his shoulders, drops of water traveling from their tips down his chest. Black ink and splatterings of freckles and moles. The towel, too small - just like your own - sits low enough on his hips that your eyes can travel along his happy trail and into that meadow of abundant wiry hair peeking out. His feet, long and flat, stay planted in their spot. He waits for you to look away, but his eyes stay fixed to your face. His chest does not flush, he does not attempt to hide himself.

When your eyes finally flick to the wall, Eddie makes his way towards you. You’re frozen in your spot, but your mind is racing. He’s going to come to me. He’s going to let me touch him. You think about kissing his chest, letting your tongue catch the stray drops of water left behind by the showerhead. But Eddie moves beside you, he passes you by. You can smell Irish Spring and tap water. Your shaking hand reaches for the door handle. 

“So, what do you think? Dinner?” Eddie’s standing at his door, a wide smile on his face. Your favorite smile. “Unless you’ve got a hot date or something?” He twists the knob, but doesn’t move to go into his room, waiting for your answer.

Nothing is the same, but everything is the same. From here on out, the only way this will work is utilizing double-thought. Letting two things be true at one time. Eddie is your best friend. Eddie is a man that your whole body aches for. These are two true things that matter, but one of those truths can only exist in the darkness of your bedroom. One of those things can only be acknowledged when you’re alone for fear of ruining the most important thing in your life.

“Sure, Ed. Chinese and cannoli. Roll a couple of joints.”

[etheries1015]

Hi, I hope you're well and I'm sorry to randomly pop in but I finished reading this and I just have to let my sad brain that's obsessed with Lilia go off.

You had Vil and Rook help give Mc a makeover right? What if they found out Mc got stood up. Me personally (I'm biased), I feel like they'd become subtly more protective. Not intrusive, not controlling, but they'd keep a more watchful eye on Mc because they don't want to see them get hurt again.

Okay, okay, but then my brain needs an extra layer added in with angst, so Lilia notices this change in behavior from the Pomefiore beans. At first he's glad Mc has people looking out for them, glad they have a support system. But Rook figures out it was Lilia who stood Mc up and tells Vil. The two start trying to find reasons why Mc shouldn't be around Lilia without telling them that's what they're trying to do directly, just "Oh Lilia’s in there, hey let's go hang out in the courtyard instead!" Subtle diversions.

Lilia starts becoming more aware of their behavior. He tries to convince himself that it isn't a big deal and things were awkward there anyway, maybe distance was the best for him and Mc. However, Silver starts noticing Lilia is more focused on Mc, and starts voicing that he misses their company. Silver has a general understanding of what happened that rainy day, as his father let a bit of it off his chest "Oh, Don't worry, there was just an unfortunate misunderstanding that needed to be cleared up!" Silver isn't taking any shit, he confronts his dad. When Lilia explains that he's too old for romance, much less romance with a human, Silver scolds him about how he never raised him to be that way. Why did Lilia believe so differently than he tended to in this singular instance? What did race have to do with the situation? "If Mc is undeserving of a chance with you, why did you take me in and give me a chance to be in your life?"

Kinda went on a tangent...if none of that made sense I apologize, I'm very sleep-deprived and angsty rn lmao. Anyway, take care of yourself and have a good day 😊

I absolutely love this take!!! I'll give you a little more detail below, however, you outlined it very well.

Part 2 of Lilia X reader Rejection

Time had passed agonizingly slow at ramshackle dorm. Not only had you contracted a cold during your outside endeavors of rain and heartbreak from Lilias rejection, you also couldn't bring yourself to face any other students in the state of misery you were in. This, of course, had not gone unnoticed by a few. Ace and Deuce were naturally worried for you, however Rook and Vil were also left out of the loop with what happened that day raising their worries and causing them to come to you about it.

Coming by ramshackle and seeing you in such a state of misery was truly heartbreaking for the two. You opened the door with puffy eyes and a running nose, hunched over with a blanket covering the majority of your body. Immediately Vil sprung into action, pulling the blanket off of you and preparing a bath while Rook had made soup and medicine for you. Whilst chastising you for your sudden disappearance and sickly state, you had finally broken down and had given them the rundown of all that night's events. You needed support, and luckily the two were more than happy to give it to you. After learning it had been Lilia who stood you up and then humiliate you in front of the gates of the school, by the time you had indeed returned to the school, you noticed the way Vil and Rook would try and steer you away from any places that Lilia could be. They couldn't hide this very well, I mean, you knew all of Lilias's classes and the places he often visited in the school. Who wouldn't be able to notice the way your close friends had tried to distract you from this?

They noticed how standoffish you now were, how your look off in the distance was so distracted, so empty. They were, however, not the only ones to see this change in you. Lilia would steal glances from you from across the room and the halls, and simply thinking to himself you would soon forget your silly feelings and move forward with your smile per usual. He was grateful for Vil and Rook being by your side and figured this would be for the best. Being away from Lilia for the time being while you sorted out your emotions was going to be much better for you, and perhaps you'd be able to find yourself around Lilia like you used to. The time when you stayed up late with him playing video games, how you called him at the most random of times to tell him of your day, the way you would always be surrounded by so much fun. He was excited to get back to that, to the day you forgot your romantic feelings for the fae, and he could enjoy your company once more.

however...those days did not come as he had hoped.

It can be hard to imagine Lilia regretting something he believed so strongly on initially, however, he can't stop the stinging of pain that plagued his heart after seeing you in such disarray. The way you sat in the rain alone the way the rain blended in with your tears and the way your eyes were red...from him. He caused that pain. The bitterness he had felt from your confrontation hadn't gone unnoticed, those around him had begun to realize there was a shift ever so slightly around him. The air had become thicker and his smiles seemed to be far more forced, much like this instance with his son.

"Father," Silver approached the fae, "I haven't seen (y/n) around per usual. Has something happened between the two of you?" He inquired. Silver had rather missed your company, your cooking and the kindness you had shown him. He found you almost like another parental figure, Silver was incredibly fond of you and since the moment you had confided in your feelings for Lilia he was cheering you on from the sidelines in your advances to his father. When you had vanished without as much as a letter, Silver had become anxious and decided it be best to follow up with Lilia. The red eyed fae couldn't bring himself to meet the gaze of his child , avoiding it by staring at the computer screen had had been playing games on with a forced smile painted upon his lips.

"Don't worry, Silver. (Y/n) and I had a simple misunderstanding, and they are simply processing their emotions right now. Sometimes distance is the best cure for such fallouts," he said. The room became silent for a moment that felt like an eternity, before Silver took in a deep sigh and confronted his thoughts to Lilia.

"You rejected them?" He said quietly, Lilias head perking up in slight alarm at the sudden question. The turned on his chair to face the taller human, gaze far more serious than before.

"I see you knew about the prefects growing affections for me?" Lilia asked, attempting to keep his tone at a calm and collected manor. Silver flinched at the look his father was giving him, yet cringing ever so slightly at the idea of confronting his guardian in such a way. He nodded gently and fiddled with his fingers nervously.

"...why?" Silver asked, his gaze seemingly afraid to look into his fathers eyes. He knew he had kept this from him and indeed felt a little bit guilty, however what was he to do? He was certain Lilia returned the feelings, why the sudden change of behavior?

"They're a human, and I'm an aging fae. It simply was not meant to be," Lilia tried to quickly wave off his explanation to his son in hopes the subject would be dropped, yet the words he had used stung silvers heart. With his eyebrows furrowing and the increasingly frustrated feeling bursting in his chest, Silver began to question the fae far more sternly than before.

"What do you mean?" He asked, "So what if (y/n) is a human? They obviously are very important to you. Weren't you the one to tell me that fae and humans should live together in peace despite those differences?" Silver sounded almost desperate, hoping for some sort of explanation from the contrarian that sat before him. Lilia let out a deep sigh, he could tell that his patience for this conversation was running thin.

"Silver. This is...different. Perhaps you don't fully understand seeing as you're human as well, but we live...a very long time. I am a very old age, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to properly handle a romantic relationship, much less with a human who has time to find someone who will grow with them instead of focusing their time on a...dying fae," Lilia hesitated the final words, quickly attempting to dismiss this with a wave of his hand as he turned away from his son, however the silver-haired boy scowled with astonishment at this with a hint of sadness in his shaking voice.

"Yet you took me in as your own, father," Silver pointed out. Before Lilia could respond to his, he continued.

"I thought you raised me to see our races as equals. You gave me the chance to grow as your son, yet you won't give (y/n) the chance to grow as your lover? They care about you very much, that is plain to see as day. I think...those feelings are far more important than the way you see age. You can't throw aside how they feel because they should find another "human" to share their lives with, we both know that is not what (y/n) wants. I'm very sad you are talking like this, Father. I'm disappointed in you, I thought you were wiser than that." Leaving Lilia stunned and wide-eyed, Silver walked out of the room. Lilia let out a shaky sigh as he shook his head and scoffed at the ridiculous situation, his head burying into his hands. A moment of silence rang before his eyes closed and head lay upon his desk, muttering beneath his breath;

"I miss them..."

--

Check out my masterlist!

[prince-kallisto]

Crowley’s curious eating habits and the significance of soup

This sounds really out there, but PLEASE here @moonlightequin1 and I out 😭😭😭 We had a very impromptu “theory” collab again, but to us it felt like less of a theory, and more of like…this is what is literally happening in canon.

Edit: Link to Ray’s Twitter thread that discusses what I did above the cut! ^_^

So I’ve been noticing that Crowley has mentioned soup or stew, especially in the manga and novel which came way after the initial in-game books. In the novel, he gives a soup pot to Yuuya, his unified exam voiceline has him trying out tomato stew, and in the manga, he says he was KIND enough to not turn Grim into stew. As if implying that if he weren’t so kind, he would’ve served Grim for dinner by now- fully capable of both cooking and eating a monster like Grim.

Crowley is very raven/crow inspired, and Ray and I think it’s more literal than just his outfit. We think these are a shared trait in Raven/Crow Fae. Because…Hm??? Crowley’s first instinct is to eat Grim- who is first believed to be a monster!! Perhaps this comes off as a joke at first, but in the second Valentine’s Day card merch, Crowley says he ate the gift that we gifted him. But…the thing is, it was an inedible object, and Crowley couldn’t even tell the difference. He even calls it DELECTABLE, but apparently it wasn’t food. He tries to save face by saying “…he was joking,” but the pause is very telling in that he did indeed eat the gift.

Ravens and Crows scavenge carrion and even literal garbage. What’s also interesting to note is that Crowley’s favorite food is “Wild Game,” which is wild animals that are hunted for consumption. As Ray put it, he likes his food fresh from the hunt. It feels very in-line with Crowley being a Raven/Crow Fae, but when you think about it…isn’t it a very odd specification? Crowley comes across (or at least tries to) as a gentleman. He even made the Culinary Crucible to encourage healthy eating habits for the students. Wild game is indeed said to be healthier, but when you consider that Crowley suggests eating a monster, and eating (and enjoying) inedible gifts, it seems like he can eat just about anything because of his own nature as a raven/crow.

But what about the soup? Considering that Crowley doesn’t really talk about food much, isn’t it interesting how nearly every time, it’s related to soup/stew despite it not being listed as his favorite food? Look at the screenshots above, and notice how he mentions soup in every single medium that Twisted Wonderland has been written in so far: The game, the manga, and the novel. Each a mention of soup.

Well, when I first mentioned this to Ray, I mentioned that Crowley’s mentions of soup reminded me of how General Lilia says that Levan summoned a pot to make soup for him and Meleanor. Because…of course I did lmao, I’m one of the resident Crowley-Levan theorists here! 🤣 But the more Ray and I discussed it (Aka freaked out lmaoo), the more we realized that this connection might be more important than we thought. You see, Levan was praised for this action, as Meleanor told him that he was “the only one he could rely on.”

And circling back to Crowley’s favorite food being Wild Game, and the implication that he genuinely thought about eating Grim who is a monster…General Lilia was in the habit of eating wild rats and lizards. And even now, Lilia’s cooking is pretty much inedible- where things get riddled with liver where it really doesn’t belong lmaoo.

When putting this all together, it all feels quite strange. Crowley can eat inedible objects and think it’s delectable, he repeatedly mentions soup/stew, his favorite food being hunted wild animals, and doesn’t seem to hesitate at eating a monster. And why not, Crowley’s was interested in tomato stew as Lilia’s favorite food is listed as tomato juice 👀

Since Ray and I love Crowley very dearly haha, we naturally go to an angsty direction with him when discussing our theories. But food is very strongly associated with memories and nostalgia. The experience of eating, especially with others, includes many of our five senses. Food can have you “relive” the emotions of a time you once experienced in the past. It’s often very symbolic of the experience.

Think of what the strawberry tart meant to Riddle, for example. Of the tart’s forbidden sweetness, of how he disobeyed his mother just wanting to be with his friends. Or even Malleus with his disliked food being “full-sized birthday cake” and his favorite being shaved ice, and how these experiences came from being alone on his birthday!

TWST uses food in their storytelling very deliberately- not only for backstory/memories but for character relationships. Think of how Cater pretended to like sweet things when in actuality he despised them and only Trey noticed it (relating to his own personality of being trendy and cool, but rather detached to the people around him), and sweet things brought back memories of how his sisters used to force him to eat sweets that he didn’t even like. OR how Kalim’s least favorite food is curry, because Jamil was once put into a coma after taste-testing Kalim’s poisoned curry. But hey, even though curry was banned in Kalim’s banquets because Kalim was so terrified from the incident, Jamil’s favorite food is curry anyway! Or Azul’s favorite food being friend chicken disliked food being “healthy foods” despite constantly eating it due to his weight insecurities. Jade and Floyd’s favorite foods relating to octopus. Trey and Vil even have stories as to why they hate MUSTARD AND MAYONNAISE respectively.

I could go on and on, but I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I refuse to say that “it’s just soup” or “it’s just wild game.” There’s a wide array of foods mentioned in the game, to the point of each character having their own unique favorite and hated food listed. There’s a story behind their preferences, to the point character relationships are established and strengthened through food.

This is not just for the students, but for the staff too. Trein’s vichyssoise establishes him as a traditional and old-fashioned (and “elegant”) man, Vargas’ raw eggs and Sam’s chicken gumbo connects them to the movies they’re twisted from (frog meat is said to have the texture and a bit of the flavor of chicken. So Sam’s favorite food being chicken gumbo is a sly way to imply the frogs from the film!)

And in the end, there is the soup, the tomatoes stew and juice, and the wild game meat. If something as specific as a full sized birthday cake means something significant to a character, why not the specification of wild game? It’s just…interesting that Crowley’s mentions of food ties back in some way with the very very few mentions that Lilia makes regarding Levan. Perhaps Crowley’s mentions of soup and wild game means more to him than first meets the eye? 🥣

Anyway it’s so over for me, local theorist crying over a bird eating soup 🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎

[starrysvn]

place in me | jung wooyoung

pairing: chef!wooyoung x chef!gn reader

genre: angst, slow burn, fluff, ex2l

word count: 17k

warnings: angsty af, kinda toxic workplace, food, drinking, i know jackshit about cooking apart from hell's kitchen, masterchef and google searches, one (1) sex joke, reader is kinda dumb.

a/n: this has been in the works since march. i gotta stop procrastinating. anyhoww, i cited "m. butterfly" by david henry hwang and reworked one of my favorite quotes ever from "jane eyre" by charlotte brontë bc i luv her. hope u guys enjoy it <3

networks: @cromernet 🫶🏻

playlist: beside you by 5sos, finally // beautiful stranger by halsey, sparks fly by taylor swift, sorry by halsey, back to december by taylor swift, right where you left me by taylor swift, the winner takes it all by abba, haunted by taylor swift, amnesia by 5sos, place in me by luke hemmings

masterlist | navi

During quiet nights you worked best. It had always been that way ever since you were a student and you didn’t think things would change. Not when the kitchen was completely silent except for the slow rumbling of whatever you had on the stove and the swift swish of your chopping knife against the cutting board. You loved listening to music while cooking, but on nights like these, you preferred the muffled sounds of the city coming in from the cracked open window and the occasional humming that left your mouth. 

It was peaceful enough to remember why you loved cooking so much. Not that you ever forgot but, lately, it was hard to find joy in your job. The hustle and bustle of the kitchen kept you busy enough to render your work almost mechanical, punctuated by the quick rhythm of orders coming in. All the loud noises around you sent you into a frenzy more often than not. 

It was on nights like these - in the kitchen of your own apartment, off duty for the evening - immersed in the mellow atmosphere you created, that you wondered if it had all been worth it. The studying, the getting yelled at, Paris… If it had all brought you to this - working in a Michelin star restaurant you had only ever dreamed of setting foot in -  but could never get you anywhere past it. If this was your final dream, your last ambition, then why did it all feel so heavy? 

It was a question you could never answer. You took great pride in your work and in yourself for getting you where you were. You liked some of your fellow chefs, and the reaction your answer got out of people when they asked you where you worked. It lit a match in you, it felt like a pat on the shoulder to your younger self. But when you got home exhausted and so not ready to face it all again the next morning, doubt clung heavily to your mind. 

You turned off the burner with a sour taste in your mouth you knew only your cooking could melt away. Sat down in front of your gamjatang, you took a big breath before diving in. You had avoided the dish like the plague ever since then, but somehow tonight your hands moved for you when reaching for the ingredients. The circumstances couldn’t have been more different than when you last cooked it; you weren’t hungover, it wasn’t four in the morning, and you weren’t halfway across the world with him. 

A memory pushed and shoved to come to the forefront of your mind, one about warmth and love and understanding all washing over you in the tiny kitchenette of a Paris apartment where, with him, you tipsily laughed and slow danced to the music of your hearts beating at the same time.

It wasn’t surprising that it just didn’t taste the same. Recipe and execution-wise it was perfect, you couldn’t count the amount of times you cooked the soup. But it tasted off, somehow. And right now you didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze why. So you just ate in silence, a slight frown on your lips with every spoonful, grateful you only had to load the washing machine before going to bed, disappointed your peaceful night of cooking had been ruined. 

–

“What’s got your panties in a twist today?” 

Park Seonghwa was your favorite coworker. You two started working at Hwang’s at the same time and bonded pretty quickly. He was quiet and focused, a perfectionist when it came to his job and never really contributed to the migraine-inducing bustling crowd of chefs around you. He also would never dare to speak like this when you both were in earshot of the sous chef. You sighed. Apparently, you had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and proceeded to grill your junior chef Jongho with more bite than usual. 

“Please don’t say that when Seo’s so close to us,” you flashed him a warning look which was met with a mischievous smirk. 

“We all know you’re aiming for his spot, with the scolding you just did he can only be proud,” the sous chef in your kitchen had the reputation of being even worse than head chef Lee, truly the bane of everyone’s existence. You didn’t want to be like him. 

“Oh, lord,” you shook your head, slowing down your chopping the slightest bit. You’d woken up with a headache after a fitful night of sleep, already frustrated with the world before even facing it. Missing the bus and clocking in late didn’t help either, not when you were greeted with a murderous glare from the head chef. You didn’t mean to be snappy with your junior, but things had inevitably piled up. 

“I don’t even know if I want the position anymore,” you grunted under your breath, earning a soft giggle from Seonghwa.

“Careful saying that out loud, or the vultures will try even harder to take you down,” he knew better than to bump his shoulder with yours, lest he interrupted your furious chopping and ended up being the reason you lost a finger, but did it anyway. The sweet gesture comforted you, surprisingly you didn’t feel the urge to bite his head off. 

“Let them,” you meant the words to sound a little less disheartened than they did, but all of last night’s thinking had seemingly gotten to you. Seonghwa gave you a confused look but could say little before being interrupted. 

“Executive Chef Kim needs to speak to you,” the eyes of the whole kitchen were on you as a sort of stillness descended upon everyone. Even Seonghwa beside you looked surprised, even if less than everyone else. You knew in his head he was probably cooking up some joke about you being the next tyrant sous. 

There were two ways this encounter could go: either fire you or promote you. A conviction that grew stronger when you entered the still-empty restaurant and sat at a table were not only the executive chef, but also the owner and manager, waiting for you. Why would they do this hours before opening? 

“Thank you for joining us,” manager Na said as soon as you sat down in front of them. “As you may be aware, chef Kim and chef Lee have had their eyes on you as a possible candidate to replace chef Seo once he retires.” Her piercing eyes stared deep into your soul. You nodded, almost afraid to speak, wondering why in the world you chose to work for such intimidating people. 

“I’m afraid you will not be taking that spot.” 

A low blow. Somehow, even when you were neither too hopeful nor too enthusiastic about becoming sous chef, the rejection still hurt. It still sent a jolt of disappointment and self-doubt shooting through you. Were you not doing a good job? Were you not up to their standards? 

“However,” you looked up again, your eyes now on executive chef Kim. “Mr. Hwang is opening up another restaurant.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” you mumbled, wheels slowly turning in your head. Manager Na smiled knowingly. 

“I would like to give you the opportunity to become head chef in my new restaurant,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m told by chef Kim and chef Lee that you would fit the position better than the one of sous chef. I trust their judgment.” 

It took all you had not to let your jaw hang in front of them. Head chef? Had they lost their minds? Never had your mind taken the decision for you before you could even rationalize your thoughts. 

“Could I think about it?” 

“Time ticks fast here, you know that chef Y/L/N,” Manager Na’s intimidating eyes were on you again. “We’d like to have an answer in two days at most.” 

With a curt nod, they dismissed you. You didn’t think you had ever made a beeline for the bathroom so fast in your entire life. Surely, you couldn’t go back into the kitchen looking like your cat just died. Everybody would know something was wrong, they would know that the position as sous was still free and you had been shot down. And there was little they could do better than kicking a man when he was down. 

So you sat in the cubicle, trying to calm your shaking hands and regain composure. Act like nothing happened. Betray no emotion. Go back to dicing potatoes exactly one centimeter by one centimeter. Not a millimeter more, not one less. 

Assholes. All of them. They couldn’t have chosen a better moment to tell you this than the most hectic night of the week. And now you’d have to work through it. Through the eyes trailed on you, holding questions and spite and jealousy. Through chef Lee’s and chef Seo’s yelled reprimanding, making sure everything was just perfect for the critic coming in.

Just one more night.

Never had you held on so tightly to such meager consolation. 

–

“You look like you need a beer.” 

Seonghwa’s voice broke the silence of the back alley. After closing, you decided to stick around instead of fleeing home like you usually would. It had been a while since the last time you sat outside the back entrance of the kitchen, alone with your thoughts after hours of noise. 

“I need vodka,” you voiced, not looking up as he took a spot beside you.

“That’s stooping so low, what’s wrong?”

You knew the question would come. Somehow he had not asked anything when you entered the kitchen again with a blank face. A murmur had slithered past as you took your place and started working again. But Seonghwa had just shot you a look, resuming his work as well. 

“They want to make me head chef at Hwang’s new restaurant.” 

“But that’s great!” He was looking at you with those big, wide, excited eyes of his and a genuine smile on his lips. One would think the offer was made to him. You were almost sorry you had to wipe that happiness away. 

“I don’t know if I want that…”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled, but not surprised. You sighed. How did you explain this without sounding crazy? 

“I mean… I-” you grunted, hands in your hair. “When’s the last time you felt like cooking?” 

Seonghwa stared back with a slight frown in his brow, eyes bouncing around your face in an effort to understand. 

“Like, really cooking. Without walking into the kitchen and wanting to throw up, or dreading opening time and all the yelling. I know it’s how it is when you work for such big names but fuck. Everything’s too fast and I… it feels like I don’t care anymore, Hwa. They took my passion and stomped all over it.” 

“Didn’t you want to be a high end, gourmet restaurant chef?” 

You stared, mouth hanging open. Of course, you did. It was your biggest dream, your one ambition. It was excruciating that all the pressure was making you break, making you think that you weren’t cut out for this and you had wasted your time. 

“I did, I do.”

“But?” 

“But this isn’t it. This feels like a survival show, where everyone’s out for blood. I understand competitiveness, but I can hardly breathe when we start cooking. Chef Seo is a literal nightmare and I don’t think I can do it anymore in a place like this.” 

“I see…”

“You think I lost my mind,” you let your head tilt back, eyes on the starless night sky.

“Maybe you did,” Seonghwa said. “That doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” 

“I’ll be honest, I never thought I’d hear you like this,” he continued. “You hold such pride for what you do and how you do it. I think Seo might yell at you just because he’s irritated he’s got nothing on you. Half of the people hate you for how well you manage.”

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed.

“My point is,” he bumped his shoulder with yours. “That it’s indicative of how much this place fucking sucks if they got you breaking. A Michelin kitchen, or any kitchen for that matter, shouldn’t burn out their best chefs.” 

“Jongho is so brave for junioring here,” you deflected, allowing his words to soothe your burning wounds. 

“Hey, we did that too!”

“Yeah, and look at where it got us,” you giggled, smiling for the first time tonight. Seonghwa huffed out a laugh. 

A beat of silence passed. You were glad for Seonghwa. Even though you often joked he was just your favorite coworker, you considered him a dear friend. One of your only friends for the matter. 

“What are you gonna do?” 

“I’ll quit,” you heard his surprised gasp and chuckled. “And I’ll refuse the position. I know head chef sounds better but I know them. Manager Na and Mr. Hwang will only hire straight up assholes and I’d have to deal with it, and not even as executive chef.”

“We’re not assholes!” his hand sat on his chest in mock offense, you giggled.

“We look like assholes and do our job quietly and damn near perfectly, that’s why we’re here.” 

Mumbling something along the lines of I guess so, Seonghwa accepted the heavy truth. In the quiet alley, sitting with your friend, you felt okay. The murmur of the busy city filled your heart as you quietly giggled and remembered your first days working at Hwang’s. Goodbyes were always hard on you, but not this time. You expected gut-wrenching pain and tears and the heavy burden of failure on your shoulders as you accepted your decision. But none of it manifested, not when Seonghwa had snuck one of the most expensive bottles of wine out of the kitchen and launched himself in a perfect rendition of Chef Seo’s latest meltdown. Maybe taking a step back didn’t mean failing, something you never would’ve believed mere months ago. 

-

The sound of freedom equated to the one of your blaring alarms each morning. It had been two weeks since you had quit your job, but you still refused to get a good night’s sleep. Well, except the night you told Seonghwa and you ended up drunk off your faces. 

You rolled over, turning off the annoying alarm, ready to start another day of not knowing what to do. There were few things you enjoyed doing, apart from cooking, when all you were left with was free time and silence. It was nice getting out of the house in the early spring morning to buy groceries, go for walks, and swing by your friend’s flower shop, but it got old quickly. Mostly, you didn’t like how sometimes, while cooking, memories you tried to never think of seemed to resurface on their own. 

When you finally got to the kitchen and there was nothing but eggs in the fridge – it was shopping day – you settled on an omelette for breakfast. Only, halfway through cooking, your mind wandered back there. 

When Chef Berrien asked you to make an omelette you wanted to laugh. You didn’t though, not when you saw the serious frown he was sporting. He was being serious? The absurdity of the situation made you question if dropping everything you had back at home just to fly to Paris to master your craft had been worth it. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you were crazy. 

“Omelettes are the easiest thing to spoil,” he stood resolutely in front of you all. “Only good chefs make good omelettes.” 

Oh god, your mother was right. 

“Good luck,” a smug voice sounded from beside you. 

If there was someone who could push you over the edge Chef Berrien shoved you to, it was Jung Wooyoung. In just two weeks of sharing your working station with him, you discovered that his bubbly personality clashed with your silent brooding. You preferred to work in silence and, apparently, he thrived in chaos. 

“You too,” you grumbled, getting your few ingredients ready. How in the world were you supposed to prove your worth with a fucking omelette? You closed your eyes and sighed, getting to work. 

“That definitely looks… simple,” Wooyoung mumbled as Berrien walked through the cooking stations, pulling faces at every dish. You looked down at yours - a plain, french omelette - then at his - all prettily plated and definitely cheese filled - and bit your tongue.

“He asked for an omelette, not a Michelin star worthy breakfast,” you hastily whispered, wishing he would just shut up for once.

“Aren’t we training to be Michelin star worthy chefs?” came his rebuttal, getting on your last nerve with that pretty smirk of his. 

Pretty? 

You scoffed and shook your head, straightening your back and clearing your throat as Berrien came close to your station. When the chef’s eyes landed on your omelette, a slight frown pulled his lips downwards. As he walked away, you did your best to ignore Wooyoung’s silent snicker and the burning in your cheeks. After the evaluation, you kept quiet for the rest of the day. 

It sometimes happened that you would close off to the rest of the world, and focused only on what you were thinking and the task at hand. Most often when you were cooking, which both helped and hindered your work. As much as you needed to focus on what you were doing, you also needed to listen to orders while doing it. You hoped to get better at managing it, it was why you were here, after all. Though, for now, after a full day surrounded by people, you were happy sitting alone with your back resting against the backdoor to the kitchen. 

“Is the silent treatment payback for beating you today?”

The door flew open, making you lose balance for a second, then came his question. 

“You didn’t beat me, Wooyoung, this is not a competition,” you sighed, keeping your eyes set on the wall in front of you rather than on his figure sitting down beside you. 

“Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” he bumped his shoulder with yours, no doubt with a shit-eating grin on his lips. That did it.

“Just because your omelette got a nod and mine got a frown, it doesn’t mean yours was better!” You all but exploded, finally looking at him. Indeed, he was wearing a smug grin. 

“Well, Chef Berrien would disagree,” you scoffed as he looked at you with shiny, distracting, eyes. Was it the light from the lamppost reflected in them or had the lack of sleep finally got to your brain? You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thought.

“Fuck you too, I guess,” you finally said, turning back around, earning a laugh from him. 

You didn’t want to stop and think about why his laugh pulled a snicker out of you, making you feel so light and at ease. 

“Does this mean you’ll go back to talking to me then?” He asked, sounding a little small. “You’re not mad?” 

Something pulled at your heartstrings, hearing him ask something like that. Did he really think you were mad at him? You probably looked like an asshole for the rest of the day after Berrien barely passed your omelette. 

“I’m not,” you said much faster than you anticipated. “I never was.” 

“That’s good,” he smiled, and you weren’t sure you liked the warmth that blossomed in your chest. 

You avoided thinking of your training in Paris with all your might, and he was the reason why. But it seemed that now that your whole world had turned upside down, your brain could do nothing but. Add that to the list of things you hated about unemployment. A funny smell pulled you from your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the almost burned omelette in front of you. Mumbling curses under your breath, you turned off the heat and plated it. This was why you never let your thoughts take over. 

You ate your spoiled breakfast in silence, deciding to get started with your day and your grocery shopping, mentally listing all the food you’d need. Anything, really, at this point to keep your mind occupied with something that wasn’t him.

It was still hard for you to wrap your head around what Jung Wooyoung meant to you. Or rather, you knew perfectly well and tried to avoid it like the plague. He was a closed chapter you didn’t want to revisit simply because it hurt. Because there was a point in time where he meant the whole world to you, where he was your whole world, and you decided to burn it all down only to choke on the ashes of what it used to be. 

You left wondering if he was still writing pages or considered the story closed and done as you did. Like you had to not to drown in guilt. 

While walking down the street, warm sunlight caressing your face, you asked yourself why it was all coming back to you now. A hollow of confusion had opened up in your chest, and of its own volition your heart chose to fill it with such memories. When Wooyoung came into your life, he did so by taking it by storm; randomly, upsetting all you had ever known, and maybe at the wrong time. That didn’t mean he didn’t leave a sign, a permanent one, on your heart. And now that you were crawling in confusion, he was barging in once more.

Wooyoung was late. It was teamwork evaluation day and your project partner was nowhere to be seen. Chef Berrien had sent daggers flying your way upon seeing the empty side of your workstation, not waiting a second longer to start the class. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole and also to strangle Wooyoung on sight. There must’ve been a logical reason why he still hadn’t shown up when you were supposed to finish your three-day project. If the fucker left you alone to finish cooking lièvre à la royale, you were seriously going to give him the scolding of a lifetime.

Anxiety started to claw at your stomach, twisting it in knots and tugging at them in a way that made it harder to breathe. Under the chef’s pointed gaze you could only stay as still as possible, hoping he’d prolong his very unsubtle speech about tardiness until Wooyoung got here, praying he would, and yet cursing him in your head. 

He still hadn’t shown up when he gave the class permission to start working. You sighed in frustration, walking to the fridge to retrieve the hare you’d cooked the day before with trembling hands. Back at your station, you realized that working while checking the door every three seconds would get you nowhere, and you weren’t about to fail the assignment even if half of your team was missing. 

When the meat was finally cleaned of the jellied liquid it had sat in overnight, and you were preparing to cut it into exactly eighty grams slices - not one more, not one less, Berrien's voice sounded in your head -  the door to the kitchen burst open.

In came a panting Wooyoung, his white chef jacket buttoned up a little crooked, who tried to make his way to your station unseen. It didn’t work.

“Jung,” Berrien’s voice resonated in the hot hair of the kitchen, making everyone stop working for a beat. Too bad no one had time to spare. You started slicing. “I don’t appreciate tardiness.”

“I’m very sorry, Chef-” he held his hand up next to his face, shutting up your partner. 

“You may start cooking,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding the whole time, shoulders almost sagging in relief. “But don’t think I won’t keep this in mind during evaluation.” 

The frustration you’d tried to keep at bay so far flared up once more, and your grip on the knife tightened. Wooyoung silently made his way next to you, washing his hands carefully and using the time to assess how far you’d gotten into the process. You didn’t utter a single word, fuming quietly as you focused on your task and he picked up on his. 

You couldn’t afford to lose time bickering now, and for the first time in a while, you cooked in complete silence, the air around you tense and devoid of the usual jokes he would throw around to lift your spirits. No banter, just instructions and cooking for the next five hours. 

Despite everything, Chef Berrien couldn’t hide how pleased he was with your dish, which didn’t end up at the top of the class only because of Wooyoung’s mishap. As soon as the chef dismissed you, you fled the kitchen.

“Wait!” Wooyoung’s voice called after you, who were already outside and determined to escape to your apartment to avoid cussing him out in front of your fellow chefs, who had already thrown confused glances at you the whole day. 

“Hey, hold up!” He caught you by the wrist, spinning you around. If he wanted to do this here, who were you to deny him? 

“What.” Wooyoung almost flinched at the harshness of your voice. 

“I’m sorry I was late, I really am, I just-”

“Save it,” you cut him off. “Day’s over, damage is done, and we ended up with an alright grade. I don’t want to fight.” 

It was true. For how mad you’d been, you didn’t want to make it worse. You could tell he was sorry by the way he’d cooked in silence, waltzing around you as if you were a bomb ready to go off at any minute. It had taken all your strength not to. You made to turn around and walk away, but he was determined to make you listen to what he had to say. 

“Can you come with me?” He sounded defeated despite the determination in his eyes. All you really wanted was to go home, wash up and rot in bed. You were tired, physically and mentally drained by the day. But your friend – because how could you deny that Wooyoung had become more than a simple classmate in the last month? He’d quietly snuck up on you, surprising you with his cheerful smile and awful jokes, and slowly but steadily carved his own spot into your heart, now beating to the rhythm of his screechy laughter and kind words – was pleading you with his brown, burning eyes and how could you say no? 

Sighing in defeat, you nodded, readjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder and watching as his frown turned into a soft smile. Wooyoung took your hand in his, going back into the building, and guided you up the stairs. Transfixed, you stared at your hands; his felt slightly rough from all the cooking but still soft. You ignored the warmth the simple gesture sparked in your heart and followed quietly; you could only hope he wouldn’t get the two of you expelled. 

Finally, you got to the last flight of stairs, legs burning and chest heaving. You hoped he had a good reason to be dragging you up six flights of stairs and potentially getting you in trouble for trespassing. He ushered you to the small balcony, apparently mostly used for storage, and nodded to a shaky ladder perched onto its wall, leading to the roof. You often did this at your apartment too, the one perk of living on the last floor, but suddenly your mouth went dry.

“How did you even have the time to find out about this-'' you climbed the small way up, thanking your lucky star that the building at least had a flatter roof compared to yours. But the words died in your mouth when you finally got your bearings and looked around.

Wooyoung emerged as well, now leaning against one of the chimneys. You sat down, amazed at the view all around you; as the sun set in the West, tinging the bluish sky with hues of warm orange and golden light, you spotted the Sacre Coeur sitting North and the Eiffel Tower immersed in a pink blush down South. A light breeze passed by, blowing a strand of dark hair into Wooyoung’s eyes, taking your breath away. Paris was quite the show from up there. 

“I really am sorry,” slowly, he made his way over, sitting down next to you as he cast his eyes onto the breathtaking view in front of you. “I overslept, couldn’t find my keys, then had to rush here and… I’m sorry.” 

You scoffed, not believing he almost failed the both of you because he didn’t hear his alarm in the morning. Actually, you could believe it, because it was such a Wooyoung thing to do. You couldn’t stay mad for long though, not when you turned to look at him and simply seeing his face bathing in the golden sun made your heart stutter in your chest. Not when his sorry eyes were melting like honey in the light. 

“I wanted to punch you in the face when you came in late,” overwhelmed by his gaze, you looked away. Faintly, you heard him scoff beside you. “But I was also relieved. I didn’t think Berrien would let you cook.”

“I was ready to beg on my knees,” you snickered, Wooyoung elbowed your side. “No, really, lièvre à la royale is a bitch, I wouldn’t have let you cook it alone.”

“Then why did you sleep through your alarm? I was seeing red and had a knife in my hand, do you have a death wish?” You joked, heart singing when you made him laugh. 

“Hey, I had trouble sleeping last night,” he defended himself, hands up as his laughter died down. With a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes, you finally looked back at him, studying his face. Only then you noticed the purplish circles under his eyes, just a bit darker than usual.

“Why?” You asked, trying to sound less worried than how you felt. It was Wooyoung’s turn to avoid your eyes and look out at the Parisian skyline, starting to twinkle in the fast-approaching night. 

“I- well,” he sighed as you kept looking, feeling the air around you shift. The way Wooyoung was struggling to come up with an answer had you feeling like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, buzzing with expectation, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t ponder too long on why your heart was racing or why you felt like you could barely breathe. Finally, he looked at you.

“I like you.” 

Now you truly did find it hard to breathe. 

“I like you so much I can barely focus when we cook, and it’s never happened to me before because I love cooking and I always pay close attention to what I’m doing. I also don’t want to lose a finger, you know? But now you’re around and it’s like I can’t help but look at you. You’re so bright and so passionate, and when you’re chopping vegetables you scrunch your nose a little and it’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen-”

In seconds you had your lips on his, pulling him closer with a delicate hand on the back of his neck. Wooyoung froze for only a millisecond before kissing you back. His lips were so pillowy and soft, you kissed him slowly, like you had all the time in the world. Lightly, his hand traveled up to rest on yours, which had moved onto his cheek. Kissing him felt like coming home after a long day. Warm and pleasant like the flame that swallowed your heart, chasing away the menacing grip fear had on it. 

Wooyoung pulled away first if only to plant a small peck onto your lips before smiling. 

“I was speaking,” he said.

“You were rambling.” 

You both started laughing, hearts singing. 

“What I wanted to say is that you shine in your own light and I can’t help but bask in it.” 

The way he was looking at you, in ways no one ever could, could have melted you right then and there. You felt the flush rise to your cheeks, the hand that still rested on his cheek trembling lightly.

“I like you too, Jung Wooyoung,” you smiled. “More than I think I should.”

The quaint flower shop came into view, dispelling the memory, and a soft smile opened up on your lips. It didn’t look like there were any customers, so you stepped in. The colors of the pretty flowers that covered every inch of the walls always managed to put you in a better mood. You walked up to the counter, ringing the bell.

“Coming!” You heard from behind it, somewhere in the back, with a little shuffling and a loud thump. You jumped on your spot, giggling.

“You okay, Sang?” You asked, trying to peep. Your friend emerged a second later, clad in a white shirt, jeans, and his green apron, blowing a piece of his black fringe out of his eyes, a vase full of sunflowers in his hands. 

“Oh, hey, what brings you ‘round?” He smiled, setting the vase on the counter. 

“Just dropping by before going grocery shopping,” you shrugged, smiling back before you started playing softly with the leaves of the flowers near you. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m good, I should be asking how you are,” he raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, “it’s the fourth time you visit this week.” 

You rolled your eyes, used to his antics, standing to help when he nodded at you to follow him. The quietness of the shop eased your thoughts more often than not, plus, you enjoyed the company of your friend. Yeosang lived in your same apartment building and opened up his shop early in the morning, around the same time you had to leave for work. Oftentimes you shared a coffee before your obligations called. He complained about horrible customers and you complained about your horrible coworkers. 

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” busy with an arrangement, he nodded you to the water lilies to his right. You reached for them with an arched brow, passing them. “A restaurant is opening down the street, if you’re interested in paying rent this month.” 

You huffed a laugh, pretending to be offended. 

“I’ll have you know I save my money, thank you very much.” He stood again, having finished his composition, watching you with an amused expression. “But I appreciate it,” you conceded. Yeosang smiled now, going back behind the counter as you followed.

“You should really check it out, even if it’s just temporary. It’d do you good,” a customer walked in, interrupting your chat. You nodded, leaving him to his work, shooting him one last smile before walking out. His cheerful Have a good day followed you out of the shop and into the now busier street.

Yeosang was right, you knew that much, but you still hesitated as you left the flower shop. There was uncertainty in your steps as you dared to walk down the street, looking ahead to spot the restaurant. Maybe you could go later that day, you could start with something easy like the grocery shopping you needed to do, to ease your nerves. 

That was better, you decided, easing yourself into the day with your routine before upsetting it by facing something new. With newfound vigor, you resumed your walking, headed to your favorite greengrocer. A walk that lasted barely five steps, before you collided against another passerby. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t-” 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

As apologies spilled past your lips, your eyes finally caught sight of the person you so rudely slammed into. When you did, you stopped talking, just as your lungs stopped breathing for a long second.

His dark hair looked a little longer, and his smile was just as you remembered, if not a little softer. Breathtakingly dashing like the first time you saw him, even in his worst moments. Because the last time you saw him, things weren’t pretty. You threw around words you didn’t mean only to disappear from his life. Both of you were crying, eyes red and puffy, voice broken as you spoke. You thought you’d never see him again.

To your dismay, you realized right then and there that you weren’t ready to face him yet. You never prepared for the moment it would all come back, simply because you never thought it would. 

“Thought I’d never see you again,” Wooyoung huffed, his polite smile falling in seconds.

“Yeah, me too,” you croaked, still in shock. 

The moment stretched on for what felt like minutes, and was only probably seconds, as you desperately tried to come up with something to say, something that’d make sense. But your brain came up empty-handed, because what if he hated you? He should hate you. What if he just told you to fuck off and left? Just like you did years ago. 

“So, what are you up to?” 

And yet, here he was again, taking your life by storm. There was no way he was standing there, in front of you in the middle of a busy sidewalk, asking what was of your life. You blanked, producing a sort of confused and surprised noise. He had to be joking. You watched as a little amusement flashed in his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching upwards. 

“Would you like to catch up over coffee?” 

Your eyes must’ve been wide as saucers, not a single second of this was making sense to you. 

“U-uh… Sure,” you shrugged, despite yourself. 

Was this his way of showing you he was unbothered and had moved on? His long-awaited chance to brag about where he was in life? You didn’t know him as someone who would do that, but perhaps you deserved it. Maybe this was karma. 

Awkward. It was all so painfully awkward: walking in tense silence beside him to the coffee shop down the street, trying to make small talk about the weather, stumbling over your words when ordering coffee, waiting for him to join you at the table near the exit. Just in case. 

“You’re back home?” You finally asked as he sat down in front of you, desperate to find something, anything, to talk about and fill the silence that hung menacingly over your heads. After all, he wanted to catch up. Wooyoung nodded, slowly sipping his drink.

“Oh, you’ve been traveling then,” you mumbled, playing with your coffee cup, not daring to look up at him again.

“I was, yes.” It was hard to wrap your head around what was happening. In another life, this would all have been familiar. It could have been. Sharing a cup of coffee on a Thursday morning, talking about whatever, sharing cool recipes, and planning how or when to try them out. His presence wouldn’t make you want to simultaneously vomit and run and hide. Dug your own grave, huh? 

“Only big names I imagine,” you forced a smile. He shrugged with a huff, a little bashful perhaps. It was all you needed to know you’d guessed right.

“What about you? What brings you here?” Wooyoung asked, pulling you out of your reverie. Despite the small, polite smile on his lips, his eyes were unreadable. Though, deep down, you knew the answer he wanted to hear. That you traveled all around the world and did big things - still were - and worked for big names. Achieved your dreams at the expense of his. The lump in your throat made it hard to swallow, to speak. 

“Worked at Hwang’s for a while…” you managed to say through the bitterness. Wooyoung’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, jaw hanging open.

“Really? Wow, that’s… amazing! Doesn’t it have two Michelin stars?” Some of your guilt evaporated at the surprise and excitement in his voice, a lightness that was quickly crushed by your own disappointment. 

“How’s it there?” There it was, the million-dollar question. You scoffed, bitter, looking at him, watching his face fall a little. 

“I quit.” You shrugged. 

“You? Quitting? What happened to the Y/N I knew?” Wooyoung was surprised, that much you could tell, but there was something else brewing in his brown eyes. 

“Dead, gone and buried, apparently.” 

Your words were nothing but bleak, with a little bitterness still in them. Sure, you did what was best for you and you were proud, but you couldn’t help but feel like you had let him down. And wasn’t that absolutely, wildly foolish? 

“They offered me a job as head chef in their new restaurant, but I turned that down as well,” you rushed to explain, feeling like you had to, missing his furrowed brow. 

“That’s…” 

“Crazy?” You offered, cutting him off. Wooyoung scoffed. 

“Well, yeah, but there must’ve been a good reason,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to justify your choices to me, Y/N.” 

Your breathing faltered at his words and the fragility they held. Wooyoung had muttered them so softly, you could’ve lost them in the bustling atmosphere around you, and somehow both stabbed and healed your heart’s wounds. 

A moment passed before he cleared his throat, speaking again.

“So, you’re unemployed,” you almost couldn’t fathom how quickly he got back to bubbly and upbeat. You nodded, still stunned.

“Great, me too.” Wooyoung smiled while you blinked repeatedly. Was he… happy? 

“My friend told me about this one restaurant opening down the street-”

“They’re not opening,” he said, watching as your face fell. “Not yet at least.” 

You furrowed a brow, confused, about to ask what he meant when he cut you off again.

“I still need to find a co-owner.”

For a moment, you didn’t hear the car, just outside, honking at a group of teenagers crossing the street despite the redlight. You missed the way a barista made a glass fall and shatter eliciting surprised gasps around the shop. You only saw Wooyoung in front of you, his expression between smug and daring to hope, eyes shining with a little fear. All you heard were the words that left his mouth and what they implied, along with your heart ringing in your ears.

“What do you want to do? Why did you decline the head chef position?” You blanched, head spinning, brain scrambling to form coherent words. His eyes burned with a fire in them that screamed determination, one you were used to seeing as he challenged a dish he was afraid to ruin. A fire you used to love so much and that, you found, still made your breath hitch. 

“I-I just want to make good food and not run a kitchen of overworked, stressed, miserable and spiteful people,” you settled on, not daring to look away, not even when he leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips.

“How’d you like it to open a restaurant?” 

“Let’s open our own restaurant,” you laughed at his words, turning your head to catch his enthusiastic smile and bed hair all over the place. He was so beautiful, bathing in the morning light of your room, that your heart jumped and hurt and sang all at once. 

“What?! Is this post-nut clarity?” Wooyoung laughed, pulling you with him.

“Way to ruin the moment, love,” he quieted down. “I’m serious, though,” he was looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes, and such adoration that sometimes it was hard to fathom it was directed at you.

“Mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster, Jung,” you found yourself saying, giggling when he pulled you into him, his hands leaving goosebumps in their wake. It was quiet for a while and you reveled in the warmth of the moment. Wooyoung often made you feel like anything was possible, like right now, huddled in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets despite the impending class you needed to leave for. 

“I think we’d make it,” he whispered, quite believing the words he was saying. “And if it all starts falling apart we can hire chefs to cook and be the owners. Live somewhere tropical, rebuild our relationship…” 

“That’s so sad, we wouldn’t be cooking at all!” you laughed, hiding in his chest and hearing a fake offended hey! from him. “You dream too big, Woo.”

“And you dream too small, my love.” He guided your face in front of his with gentle hands, bumping his nose with yours before kissing you until you were left breathless. When you pulled away, you finally saw the stars dancing in his eyes.

“I do have dreams,” you almost whispered, treading lightly on your own aspirations, opening up your heart for someone else to see. Someone who would understand and not call you crazy. Wooyoung nudged you, an expectant smile on his lips. “I want to travel all around the world and learn from the best of the best. Life’s a classroom, I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop.”

“Never?” he asked, not quite surprised, but more like impressed. He understood. You let out an elated giggle, almost cursing yourself for behaving like a schoolgirl. 

“Never.” unable to resist, you pecked his lips once. 

“That’s a wonderful dream, love.” 

One of his hands came up to rest on your cheek, cradling it gently, looking at you as if you were the most prized possession of his. All over, warmth wrapped you up, and rose to your cheeks that he was still grazing his thumb over, light as a feather.

“I want to open a restaurant someday, ” he whispered, so close to you, looking into your eyes and sending sparks flying in your chest. “But I think I might just follow you to the ends of the world.”

His lips crashed on yours once more, sending your heart racing more than his words had. This might’ve been the closest you’d ever felt to heaven, with Wooyoung wrapped around you, canceling any and everything else. You knew, right then and there, that the fall was going to hurt like nothing had ever before. 

Consommé was the most devilish dish you’d ever had the displeasure of cooking. And yet, its intricate cooking process demanded every last bit of your undivided attention. That was why you were sweating away in the kitchen, trying to achieve the perfect result through your rusty memory of the process, although you had no need for it. Well, except not thinking of your morning. You’d rather remember Chef Berrien’s voice as he dictated the recipe and the endless ways you could ruin it, than your encounter with Wooyoung. 

A shiver ran down your spine, tingling all the way, when his words, the ones from earlier and the ones from back then, echoed in your mind; clashing, fighting, and leaving behind scorched earth. 

You could hardly believe this was your life right now. Accepting would mean tying yourself down to this place, to Wooyoung. You let the thought simmer in your head, waiting for the familiar claustrophobia to bloom in your chest, suggesting you to run and never come back.  

It didn’t come. 

Instead, the thought of leaving pulled at your heartstrings. You liked it here. You liked your morning coffee shit-talking sessions with Yeosang, you liked meeting up with Seonghwa on his days off, you liked your greengrocers and the walk back through the park near home. You liked your apartment, you finally liked the disposition of your tools in your kitchen. You liked the thought of working with Wooyoung. 

You dropped the ladle, splashing your skin with the hot soup. You hissed in pain, clutching your hand to your chest before assessing the damage. You walked the short distance to the sink, running your hand under cold water.

Well, you thought, there goes the clarification process. 

-

You skipped breakfast with Yeosang that morning. For one, you were late despite the alarms, and, most importantly, you needed to talk yourself into actually meeting Wooyoung at the restaurant. The day before you’d left him with the promise of letting him know about the offer. You preferred not to think about how, for just a moment, you could see the determination falter in his eyes. Again. Wooyoung saved his number in your phone before letting you go. 

After taking care of your slightly burned hand, you stared at your phone for all of twenty minutes before finally crafting the perfect text saying you’d meet him at the restaurant at ten. 

And now, five minutes to ten, you were running down the street, dodging people left and right, trying to get to the closed-down restaurant. You couldn’t count the amount of sorry’s you’d thrown around when accidentally running into someone. Finally, the sign came into view, and so did Wooyoung. 

“You made it,” he sounded vaguely surprised and you tried not to let it get to you, or to let it show on your face. 

“So,” you cleared your voice after nodding. “How’d you find out about this?” He gestured for you to follow towards the entrance, producing the key from the back pocket of his black jeans. 

“I used to like this place,” he easily opened the door, leading you inside the empty restaurant. From the outside the restaurant didn’t look like much more than a hole in the wall, but the inside was spacious enough. A small restaurant, fitting maybe twenty tables at best, but you liked the idea. By the looks of it, it must had been recently renovated. Wooyoung switched the lights on, allowing you to see better. “When I got back the owner told me he was thinking of closing, and I asked if he wanted to sell. He made a pretty good offer.” 

“Huh,” you were still looking at the anonymous white walls and the few sleek black tables left behind, making your way to what you knew to be the kitchen. Stepping in, you gasped. It was perfect; an island kitchen slightly bigger than you’d imagined. Almost gleaming in its silver glory it stared back at you, inviting you in. You didn’t even mind the checkered floor as you walked across the space and took it in. Wooyoung stood by the door, leaning against its frame with his hands in his pockets, watching. It looked like he was holding his breath, and you knew why. 

“What do you think?” his voice was just a little bit hesitant. You turned around with a smile. 

“I love it,” you offered, noticing how he seemed to ease up the slightest bit. 

“Ah, I knew you’d fall for the island kitchen,” Wooyoung scoffed, walking into the space as well.

“Not my fault it’s the best type of kitchen,” you raised your hands, hearing him snort.

“Debatable,” he muttered, now standing in front of you. There was amusement dancing in his eyes, a spark you realized just then how much you’d missed. 

It hit you then, square in the chest, how much you really just missed him. He still seemed to know what you wanted even before you knew yourself. It happened then and it was happening now. Being in the kitchen with him felt electrifying, your hands itched to start cooking. You looked around once more, seeing yourself bustling around in this kitchen, Wooyoung at your side.

Never once did you regret the choices you’d made; your love for food had brought you all around the world, learning and cooking in the most beautiful kitchens, earning your praise felt like the biggest reward. Believing in yourself and your skill, your craft, and being able to perfect it was all you really needed. Maybe it was time to stop and breathe for a while, and put your experience to use. Because, no, you never regretted where your choices took you, except losing Wooyoung. Your compass, the one who never lost sight of your heart. 

“Let’s do it.”

Wooyoung looked at you as if you’d grown a second head, letting out a surprised sound.

“I saved quite a bit in the last few years and we could ask for a loan. Quite frankly, I’ve always wanted to run a kitchen on my own terms,” you could hear it in your voice, the ambition faintly coming back to it, something you hadn’t heard in a while. You smiled seeing Wooyoung straighten up. 

“We’d be running it together,” he lifted a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. You mirrored his stance.

“That’s good with me,” Wooyoung smirked. 

“Then let’s do it.”

-

Oftentimes you asked yourself how you ended up here. You believed it almost impossible that you were, once again, sitting in front of Jung Wooyoung at an ungodly hour of the night, eating food you’d made as the radio softly played in the background. What was even less credible to you was how you were sitting in your restaurant, yours, discussing menu plans. 

A month strong into the planning and designing, you were proud to say that you and Wooyoung were… friendly. Like coworkers were. Almost like long-lost friends would be. But it was fine because you got to stress Yeosang nearly every morning about how sometimes you both would slip into old habits and bicker like you used to and how that would confuse you. Then you’d talk Seonghwa’s ear off one night a week in front of your drinks, rambling on and on about how you’d catch yourself staring at him, blushing like an idiot, stumbling over your words. 

Safe to say that your friends were tired, but deep down it surprised and comforted them to see you come back to life bit by bit. 

It was all hard to wrap your head around because the last time you saw him still burned in the back of your mind. It was the giant elephant in the room you could never address, you could never pretend to not see. But Wooyoung was great at turning a blind eye, you realized. And you couldn’t really blame him either. You never expected to be in this sort of situation, you had quite literally run from it. 

But you were afraid of misstepping, of crossing a line.

So, now, there you stood, at a crossroads; talk about it and watch this newfound truce crash and burn, or pretend like everything was fine. For now, discussing the menu with your co-owner would have to do. 

“I think we should add that!” Wooyoung all but yelled, slamming his chopsticks down. 

“And I’m telling you that I know the area!” You rebutted, swallowing your bite, before carrying on with your point. “There’s at least three other restaurants that do that, what’s missing is a gourmet place.”

“Will you let it go?” He sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. “If we get there, we get there, if we don’t, then we’re still making fantastic food!” 

Wooyoung had a point, you knew he did. A valid one at that. 

“You’re insufferable,” you conceded, rolling your eyes and resuming your eating, trying to hide the smile pulling at your lips. 

“You love it,” he winked, picking up his chopsticks. 

And just like that, he threw you back into your loop. How could you simply let it go when this felt so familiar? When it reminded you so much of how you were? Light and carefree. Happy. You hadn’t noticed your eyes roaming around his figure, taking in his long dark hair pulled back by a ponytail, the way his eyes seemed to shine in the dull light coming from the stupid lamp he’d insisted on bringing in. 

This was his dream, wasn’t it? You remembered, because how could you forget the endless hours he’d spend talking about his own restaurant, managing his own kitchen, creating dishes, and cooking his favorites? You could tell by the small smile he sported as he ate, looking around the room with star-filled eyes. 

You didn’t know quite how you fit into this. You never amounted that one conversation, years ago in your Paris apartment, up to anything more than daydreaming. Though, right now, the moment felt tangible, you could grasp it in your hands if you wanted to. He'd given you a new dream to chase right when you thought you were over. 

“You’re looking at me weird,” Wooyoung waved his chopsticks in a circle around your face, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” your eyes fell back to the almost empty plate, moving the last bites of food around. 

“I didn’t say it was bothering me,” his voice was lower, almost a whisper, and you felt your heart drop. When you looked up, you didn’t know what to make of his expression. It looked like he was contemplating his following words, and you were all but hanging from his lips. He stayed quiet, eyes downcast on his plate, and shot you a short smile. 

You let the radio fill the silence between you, allowing the thoughts to pester your mind. Though, like a cup overflowing, there was little you could do to cage them and push them down.

“Wooyoung, were you-” his eyes rose to meet yours, and you stopped for a second, mulling the question over, savoring its bitter taste in your mouth before spitting it out as if it were a seed that ruined your bite. “Who were you going to open the restaurant with?”

His wide eyes told you all you needed to know, and yet his stunned silence pulled another set of words out of your lips.

“You said you needed a co-owner first…” you rasped, almost shocked you were still talking through the cotton in your mouth. Wooyoung set his chopsticks down, trying to hide the way his hands started trembling, sighing.

“We made a good team, didn’t we?” his voice was quieter, wondering. He shot you an uneasy smile, so short and so small you almost missed it. “I know you’re a great chef and we want this to be a great restaurant.”

“Yeah…” you whispered, feeling the weight of memories unloading on both your shoulders, their presence demanding the unwanted plunging into deep, murky waters. “Does it have, uhm… does it have anything to do with-”

“Let’s not open that can of worms, mh?” He cut you off immediately, sounding a tad harsher than he had before, rubbing salt into your matching wounds. 

“I just-” It felt like you were gasping for air, grasping at any lifeline you were afforded, lost in the swirling sea that were his pained eyes. 

“I know.” 

A mangled victory, or a loss, the way his voice sounded resolute. It allowed no space for you to counterattack, to try and pry any other thought out of him. And you accepted it, simple and plain, with no complaints. You had no right to. Nodding, you averted your eyes, affording him space. 

“I-” Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. The conflict in his mind was reflected on his face clear as day. Before his eyes were back on you, they looked around the room. “I missed you.”

Bearing his heart, that was what he was doing. It felt like, despite everything, he was still offering you a small piece of it. Your breath caught in your throat. Three words that held huge implications and a heavy past. One right answer, a truthful one, that could sound highly hypocritical of you. But you had to say it.

“I missed you, too.”

Wooyoung smiled, small and tentative, but still as warm as sunshine. You smiled back. 

The night was as cold as you felt despite having his arms wrapped around you, offering you shelter from the biting wind. Tonight the twinkling lights of the city below you couldn’t offer their usual comfort. You knew what was going to happen as soon as you opened your mouth to speak; you’d be breaking his heart along with yours. But you had to, hadn’t you? Wooyoung would understand. 

“Don’t you want to stay here forever?” He mumbled in your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. You kept staring out at the Parisian lights, heart sinking with every beat. 

“I-” you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing there was a way to prevent the hurt you were about to put him through. Never mind about yourself, all you cared about was him. Always him. Then why are you doing this? Sounded something in the recess of your mind. You shushed it. The lump in your throat formed out of the blue, making it hard to utter the next words.

“I wish I could,” you whispered, hoping your words would get lost in the wind, bracing for impact when you felt him tense and pull away from you. A gust blew by, chilling you to the bone now that he wasn’t holding you anymore. The look in his eyes sparked burning regret in your heart, setting it aflame.

“What do you mean?” 

He had taken a step back, confused eyes searching for yours. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when you were about to break all the promises you’d made right along with his heart. What a coward.

“I was offered a job in New York,” you began, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “I took it… I leave next week.”

When you finally mustered enough courage to look back at him, you saw betrayal shining clear in his eyes, swirling in disbelief, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. It was almost as if you could hear his thoughts, and each of them cut a deeper wound. 

How could you? Why didn’t you tell me? I would've been happy for you. We could’ve made other plans. 

“Were you just going to disappear from my life forever, then?” He spat, a little angry, a little sad. 

“No, Wooyoung, I-” you tried to reason, knowing very well that no excuse would hold. He scoffed bitterly, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jacket like a hurt kid. Already hard to talk through the burning in your throat, the tears springing in your eyes didn’t make the task any easier.

“Save it,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “I should’ve known. I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for there,” he made to go, but you couldn’t let him, not yet. 

“Wouldn’t you have done the same?” He stopped dead in his tracks; you’d said the wrong thing. But you couldn’t hide your hand now that you’d thrown the stone. “Is it not our dream to learn and travel when all of this is done?”

Wooyoung shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, and to some extent, you couldn’t either. 

“No, I wouldn’t have, Y/N. It may be your dream but it isn’t mine. Not anymore, not since I met you. So, yeah, I would’ve given it all up,” he all but yelled, each word was like a punch in the gut. Despite the noise of the city below, the beat of silence that lingered sounded louder than any of it. 

“Go to New York, love. It’s your dream after all,” he conceded, voice dying down and broken, softer, like some sort of realization had dawned upon him. He blinked away his tears, still, you refused to let yours fall. 

In a second he was close to you again, his smell and warmth engulfing you once more. A sob broke through you when you felt his arms wrapping around you tight, and another was pulled from you when one of his hands came to softly rake through your hair. Wooyoung surrounded you with all he was, holding you tight, almost as if he loved you. Almost, you thought, because you knew the difference, for you had felt what it was to be loved – truly loved – by him. But you went and broke it. Now, you had to put love out of the question, and think only of duty. You had made your choice, after all, and he knew it too. 

“Goodbye,” in an instant you were left on your own, cold, and watched as he walked away from you, his whisper resonating in your soul, breaking it with each echo.

If you chose to follow your dream, then why did it hurt so much?

-

Sundays used to be your day off. You’d wake up at midday, usually to a ray of sunlight harshly shining into your face until you could no longer bear its warmth. You’d roll out of bed and lazily proceed to tidy your apartment and rot on the couch for the remainder of the day. Now, though, you were a restaurant owner and Wooyoung insisted you should stay open on Sundays because two out of three of the restaurants in your area were closed. So, you rolled out of bed, taking just one second to admire the first rays of sunlight shining through the fading, dark night sky. You sped through your routine and breakfast, having sacrificed that slot of time in favor of five more minutes of sleep. 

Despite the fast-approaching summer, the morning air was still rather chilly, and much quieter than the rumbling of cars and city rustle that you were used to. You didn’t have to squeeze past sleepy teenagers and angry old ladies on the bus and got to choose which seat to sit in. You didn’t mind early Sundays. 

In no time you’d open the restaurant. Today you’d convinced Seonghwa and Yeosang to drop by for lunch; you needed them to test out the menu you and Wooyoung had carefully crafted. Of course, at the mention of free food, both of them agreed, so there wasn’t much convincing involved after all. A sort of test run before the grand opening. 

The restaurant stood before you in the quiet street, looking close to the eye. You smiled proudly, producing the key from your bag, opening the door, and closing it behind you after walking in. The room was quiet, the only indication of someone being in there was the rustle and faint light coming from the kitchen. 

“Hey, Woo,” he was already there, setting out pans and pots. You walked in, reaching for your jacket. 

“Hi!” Although his head was hidden in a cupboard, you could hear his cheery voice loud and clear. “Are you ready?” 

When he emerged, he was sporting a happy smile, contagious enough to make you chuckle.

“As I’ll ever be.” 

Wooyoung smiled at you, beckoning you over to the station where a copy of the menu lay. You sure had your work cut out for the day. Up until then, between the furnishing and taking care of the more bureaucratic aspect of opening a restaurant, cooking together hadn't been common. You were thrilled to finally share the kitchen with him again. 

“Hey! The rolling pin is there to keep you off my half of the counter,” you huffed, trying your best not to let your irritation show. Not while you were trying to close dumplings perfectly. 

“Oh, come on!” He protested, “I can’t believe you’d still do that, look at how much space we have!”

“Yeah, and somehow, you’re still taking up most of it,” Wooyoung grumbled under his breath, finally moving a few of his bowls and pans to make space for you. 

“Gee, thanks,” although you weren’t trying to rile him up, you still ended up falling back into old habits.

“Oh my-” he rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, moving a couple more things, “You’re the bane of my existence.”

“You literally asked me to be your co-worker!” You laughed, shocked, but amused.

“And there’s not a day I don’t regret it,” with his nose in the air, trying and failing to hide a smile, Wooyoung resumed his meat slicing. You scoffed, not really offended. It was so easy to breathe when things felt as light as they did. A smile threatened to open up on your face, but you had an act to keep up. 

Silence used to be rare between the two of you, yet you liked it now. There was no awkward space to fill anymore, not a single word to be wasted. You worked in tandem, like a well-oiled machine, chuckling at Wooyoung’s occasional jokes and exchanging instructions. It felt good. It felt like it used to. 

“Are you nervous?” You asked him as you finalized the prepping for the second course. Wooyoung looked up, flashing that smile of his that could rival the sun.

“Not really,” he shrugged. “Are you?”

You nodded, avoiding his eyes and focusing on the bowl under your nose. The sauce you prepared to marinate the fish had a pungent note it shouldn’t have had. You didn’t notice him slipping closer to you, right at your side. Wooyoung was leaning on the counter, facing you. 

“You’ve got nothing to be worried about,” his voice aimed to soothe, and it did, sweet like honey. “Are you or are you not one of the best chefs in town?” 

You looked up at him, scoffing, ignoring the heat on your face that his closeness brought along. 

“See, now you’re exaggerating!”

“I’m not.” 

“Are, too!” A soft laugh escaped the two of you, and when he looked at you, eyes so full of hope and happiness, your breathing stopped for just a second. “But you’re right, it’s gonna be okay, I’m just… I don’t know, I want them to like what we made.”

“They’re gonna,” he shrugged. Only when you gave him a questioning look he answered. “Because we made it.” 

It looked like Wooyoung still knew what to say and when to say it to put your nerves at ease.

-

“Can I have some more?” 

“Me too!”

“You can’t ask that!”

“Says who?” 

“Alright, we’ll make it,” Wooyoung quelled the discussion that was about to start quickly, coming back into the kitchen with empty plates.

Two of his friends had joined yours for lunch, not that the food was lacking, but it seemed that Yeosang and San had promptly bonded over their love for one particular dish. Gamjatang, which wasn’t even on the menu, the two were just bottomless pits, apparently. The only one coming to your aid with restaurant etiquette was Seonghwa, whose reprimanding went unheard. Hongjoong stuck to silent side-eyeing, which barely helped. 

“Should we consider adding it to the menu?” Wooyoung joked, coming over to the stove where you stood, already heating up what was left of the broth from the previous batch. You thanked your lucky star you had some ready, or else they’d had to wait hours to eat.

“Let’s make it available only after eleven, though.”

He laughed, reminding you how you closed at midnight while washing and cutting up the mung bean sprouts, crown daisy leaves, perilla leaves, and green chilies you needed to add later on. You went for the pork bones, potatoes, and cabbage leaves.

Wooyoung set his bowl of vegetables close to the stove, ready for you whenever.

“Do you need more seasoning base?” He asked as you put your portion of ingredients into the pot. 

“Yeah, there’s not much left,” you looked at him, waiting for your word to start. “Thanks.” 

He smiled, getting to work quick.

As everything simmered and cooked, the two of you stood in front of the stove, silent, side to side. Outside, you heard your friends all talk and laugh, but they sounded miles away. Once again, you thought you knew what was running through his head. The night when he taught you how to cook the dish, the way he followed your every step with an encouraging smile. How your heart fluttered when he kissed your lips right after his first bite, saying that there was no way he was ever going to cook it again if yours tasted much better. How one night you tipsily tried to cook it together, almost spilling the batch of broth you saved in the fridge and ruining it all, but could only laugh until your stomachs hurt because somehow it was the funniest thing ever. After all, they plagued your thoughts as well. 

When the timer went off and he looked at you like a deer caught in headlights, you smiled, trying to ease away the tension that had bubbled up, going to kill the flame and plate the dish. 

You passed him a full bowl with shaking hands, praying he didn’t hear the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

“Maybe you should take away the wine,” Seonghwa sported a light frown on his lips when you made your way to the table with the other bowl in your hands. You furrowed a brow, noticing the way San and Yeosang were giggling a little too loudly, and how the former was particularly flushed, only after setting the dish in front of him. 

“Good idea,” Wooyoung snickered, scurrying back into the kitchen with the bottle. You watched him go, debating if to follow or give him space. You decided to stay, asking your guests how they liked the food. 

Seonghwa ended up giving you precious input and feedback, over the laughter coming from the opposite end of the table. It made you smile. Despite how interested you were in your friend’s recap of the things he appreciated the most about appetizers, you couldn’t help but glance a little worriedly at the kitchen doors from time to time. Wooyoung was still in there.

“Alright, we should go,” Hongjoong, who had simply complimented your cooking with a polite smile, spoke up after a while. San protested a little but stopped his efforts to stay pretty quickly when his friend said he was going to have no ride home. 

The two made their way to say their goodbyes to Wooyoung in the kitchen, leaving you with your friends. 

“We should go, too,” Yeosang stood, walking over to the doors with you and Seonghwa. 

“Thank you guys for coming,” you quickly hugged them both. “Drop by whenever.”

“You know I will,” Yeosang giggled, making you smile. 

“Keep it up!” Seonghwa said, walking out first. You waved them both off, and when you turned around, you were faced with San and Hongjoong. The former complimented your food, saying he’d bring over friends and family, rambling a bit. You giggled as he spoke, thanking him. 

“Thank you for having us, the food was delicious,” Hongjoong watched over San making his way out of the restaurant after saying his goodbyes, turning to you with a small smile. “Can I ask one thing of you?”

Your brow furrowed, but you nodded quickly. He sighed.

“I know you two have a complicated past,” he started, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. “And I see you’re doing great despite it, so, please, just… don’t hurt him again.” 

“I would never,” you were furiously nodding, suddenly your throat felt a little dry, hands all clammy. 

“Thank you,” Hongjoong smiled, walking out as well, leaving you dumbfounded and staring at their disappearing figures. 

You waited in silence for a while, mulling his words over in your head. When you turned around and saw Wooyoung leaning against the kitchen door’s frame with a bright, wide smile adorning his lips, the sight almost gave you a heart attack. He laughed loudly seeing your spooked reaction, making a smile appear on your face. His laughter only served to make your heart stutter like butterfly wings, having barely recovered from the surprise, making you giggle as well. 

Wooyoung looked so happy that you felt you could burst at the seams. 

“They liked it!” You could barely contain your excitement as you locked up and started to make your way over to him, almost with a skip in your step.

“They did,” he smiled back, eyes scanning your figure until you were right up in front of him. Not even thinking twice, you let your arms sneak around his shoulders, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. You even swayed side to side. Wooyoung laughed happily, his own arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“I’m so happy,” you murmured when your excitement quelled. Your chin was resting atop his shoulder, and his on yours. When he spoke, quietly, you could hear the smile on his lips right against your ear.

“I’m glad,” he said. “Me too.” 

It was quiet. For the first time since that morning there were no friends laughing at the table, no bickering in the kitchen along with the sizzling of the pans, chopping on the cutting board, and rumbling of the pots. 

Just you and him. 

Your heart was still racing, over the moon for the success of your menu, but also quickened by his close proximity. Once realization struck that you’d pulled him into you, you were quick to let go, though his arms around your waist wouldn’t let you wander far.

“Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay,” the look in his eyes was enough to send your heart to your feet, air stuck in your lungs, and take you back in time, just for a second. It was all it took for you to want to pull away from him as if you’d gotten shocked. You found that you couldn’t. Not when Wooyoung held you a little tighter, searching for anything in your eyes that would prompt him to stop leaning even a breath closer. 

Frozen in time, in your spot, your grip on his kitchen jacket grew impossibly strong. 

When his nose softly brushed against yours, as if he’d sensed your mind wandering far and wide and wanted to bring you back to him, and you saw how his half-lidded eyes were holding a simple question, you pulled back.

“Should we get to cleaning up?” 

Wooyoung’s eyes closed, for a fleeting second, before he started nodding.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be here all night,” he cleared his voice, arms falling from around you. He offered a smile so small that it barely showed, the moment gone as soon as it came. You watched as he disappeared behind the kitchen doors, shoulders dropping and eyes falling close. 

You gave yourself a moment, just one, to relish in his closeness. The closest he’d ever been to you in years, something that used to be so familiar and still sparked the same goosebumps, the same erratic heartbeat. You sighed, following after him. 

-

You couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t for a good week. 

Between the imminent opening of the restaurant and the newfound awkwardness between you and Wooyoung, your head was so full of swirling thoughts that, as soon as you closed your eyes, it prevented you from enjoying one singular night of rest. They just kept going, growing into a never-ending spiral of what-ifs and exploding into a hurricane of beating yourself up. 

By now you’d given up on trying to make sense of your feelings. All you knew was that you wanted to keep Wooyoung to your side, co-worker, friend, or lover, it didn't matter. Now that he was back into your life, you didn’t want to risk losing him again. Though, it got increasingly hard to ignore how you wished he would stay with you once you closed the restaurant. How you wanted him to hold you like he used to, how you wanted to tell him every day just much of your love and devotion he had. 

It was still dark outside when you closed the door to your apartment behind you. Almost without thinking, you’d thrown the covers off of yourself and gotten out of bed, put on the first clean clothes you found, and got out of the house. The cold, crisp air of the night hit you right in the face, waking you up like an icy splash of water would have. You pulled your jacket closer around your body, starting the walk to the restaurant. The keys jiggled in your hand, one of the few sounds in the lonesome streets. 

Your heart had decided the way for you before your mind could catch up.

You’d always found solace in cooking. It allowed your mind to relax, and think about what was right in front of your nose, slicing through all your doubts and worries like a knife. With each step you followed, each accomplished passage towards the perfect result, you felt lighter and lighter. Then Wooyoung came along. Never could you have predicted that something else in your life would’ve been able to bring you the same comfort and brightness as cooking. 

Whatever peace and happiness you’d found in your passion, you’d also found in him. He set you alight. You’d been dumb and wrong enough to think that the feeling that came along with him could be replaced. 

But how could it? Once you let go if it, of him, Wooyoung had haunted all of your what-ifs. All of your darkest nights could only brighten up if you thought of his infectious laugh, his soft kisses, and his kind words. 

Reaching the restaurant brought you back out of your thoughts. You were here now, by some fateful design, with him again. You’d do anything not to lose your brightest star again. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You closed the backdoor behind you with a jolt, not expecting Wooyoung to be sitting at a table, illuminated only by the light coming from his beloved lamp. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Ever so slowly, you made your way to him, trying to calm your racing heart. He raised his shoulders, avoiding your eyes a second later, shrugging as if he had no answer to your question. You sat with him, noticing just then the few papers scattered on the wood. 

“What’s on your mind?” The question fell from your lips in a quiet whisper, almost afraid to disturb the silence hanging in the air. You still knew him, after all, maybe even more than you gave yourself credit for. He sported that furrow in his brow, the one that lightly creased his smooth skin, that only showed up when something had been bothering him. 

“I-” he sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they didn’t waste a single second to find yours. Your mouth went dry. 

“You know what I hate most? That sometimes I hate you, sometimes I hate myself, but always I miss you. And I never stopped torturing myself with the same questions over and over, why would you go? Did our dreams mean nothing to you? Did I mean nothing to you?” A bitter, void laugh fell from his lips. “But you’ve gotta move on, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

Heart in your throat, you were left speechless in front of his innermost thoughts. Thoughts you never imagined could be plaguing his mind still. But how could you miss it now? His eyes were begging for answers, after all this time, as if the dam had finally broken. You couldn’t bear to see them be so pleading, so misty. 

“That’s not true, I,” the words died in your mouth as you choked on them. “You must know it,” reduced to a whisper by the weight of truth, you tried to salvage what you’d so carefully rebuilt.

“Do I?” He sounded so helpless, your brain scrambled in all directions to find a way to convey how so untrue it all was. “You left me, Y/N, and sometimes I'm still there.” 

A gasp left your lips, his words squeezing the air out of your lungs. 

“We’re doing it now, isn’t it enough?”

Wooyoung shook his head, shoulders dropping in disbelief as he scoffed. Despite the dim light, from across the table, you could see his red-rimmed eyes begging you to catch on. You did, you had the second he started speaking, but you’d still said the wrong thing. 

“You’re so dense,” head thrown back, hands on his face, you waited for him to speak again. “Tell me why did you go.”

Not a question. Up against the wall, you felt the way your heart fell to your stomach, how nerves were tugging at it painfully. He needed this, and you were willing to give answers.

“I didn’t think,” you started, feeling so small under his gaze. “The only thing on my mind was that I’d made it. Selfishly, I thought you’d understand. I… I never meant to hurt you, and I know it sounds like bullshit, but it’s true. And when you told me to go, for a split second, I thought we could make it. I realize now how stupid I was. How there were at least ten ways in which I could’ve handled it better. I wish I’d fought for us,”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I-” Unshed tears started to run down your cheeks, wetting your mouth with salt. “There’s nothing I regret more than letting you go.” 

“We were meant to be, love,” his broken whisper was a sinking stone in your chest. Lifting your eyes to meet his, you saw the tear tracks on his desperate face matching yours. 

“But we were not meant to last,” there were few ways you could describe how your heart was hurting as you muttered the words, hand reaching forwards on the table. You didn’t think Wooyoung would hold on to it until he did. Fingers intertwined, you both held on painfully tight as if by letting go you’d get lost in the current the sea of your words had provoked. Each other’s buoy in a storm of unsaid words and unresolved, muddy feelings, so strong that with nothing they could tear you apart. 

You cried immersed in the dark silence of the restaurant hall, the place that crowned your dreams, listening to the other’s quiet sobs. 

“I’m sorry, forgive me,” you choked out again, trying to find his face past your tears. Wooyoung reached out to brush them away, his hands just as soft as you remembered, if not more careful. The moment his skin grazed yours, a shiver ran down your spine, electrified by such simple contact. His hand lingered for a long second, cradling your cheek before all you felt was its cold absence.

He stood up first, only to walk around the table and stamp a kiss on the crown of your head, his hand holding your shoulder. You froze, barely hearing how he murmured something about seeing you in the morning, barely breathing. What you did hear was the closing door, a sign you’d been left alone with your thoughts in the dimly lit room, knowing your ignorance had broken his heart again.

-

You didn’t know how to fix it. 

Standing and cooking side by side felt off again. You were walking on eggshells, treading on a fine line to avoid ticking off another bomb. If the weight of apologizing had been lifted off your chest, something much heavier now resided upon it. Knowing something had changed yet again, all because of how you’d acted. What you’d said. 

“You want to make ramen noodles? From scratch?” 

In the middle of cleaning up part of the station, you couldn’t help but let surprise seep into your voice. Wooyoung stared, nodding. 

“I thought we already made enough to last us at least two days…” You let your words fade out, not wanting to start an argument. His jaw set and you realized your efforts had been in vain.

“I’d rather be safe than sorry, at least until our new hires come in,” he shrugged, going to preheat the oven. He really was serious. 

You wondered why he was going through with this; you ran out of kansui, which was already hard enough to find, let alone expensive. In its absence, you’d need to prepare a substitute for it: baking soda that had to be baked in the oven for at least an hour to act properly instead of the kansui. It was such a waste of time when you had more pressing matters to attend to. Ones that didn’t need the help of your brigade. 

Breathing in deeply and deciding that keeping peace was essential, you assessed how Wooyoung was just lining the baking sheet with parchment paper and spreading the baking soda over it. You went to retrieve the whole wheat and bread flours you’d need in an hour, trying to keep frustration at bay. You’d think about the salt and riboflavin later. When you came back with the sacks, Wooyoung was already cleaning the rolling pins and pasta machine. With a grunt, you set them down on the counter, watching as he jolted in surprise.

“I’ll go call our supplier while we wait on the oven,” you really didn’t mean for your voice to sound so clipped. He seemed not to care, simply giving you a nod and going on with his task.

You left the kitchen almost stomping your feet in frustration, sitting down at the table furthermost from it. Whatever game Wooyoung was playing, it needed to stop now. You had tried time and time again, in the last few days, to get anything out of him. To try and patch things up and salvage them as best as you could. But you guessed he needed time, and with the opening just around the corner, you decided it was best to let him be. As long as you could work well together, everything would be fine.

Except the wall he’d put up was so high that you felt it was impossible to climb it or break through. 

The sound of the door opening brought you back to reality, reminding you that you needed to find the supplier’s contact and call, murmuring something about being closed to whoever had just come in. 

“I figured,” the voice made every hair on your skin stand, plunging you back into prickly, cold, anxious times. As you looked up, you could barely believe your eyes.

“Mr. Hwang,” his name left your lips in an incredulous whisper. 

“It’s been a while,” he looked around, coming in. His eyes were inspecting thoroughly everything they could lay themselves on, scrutinizing all that might be out of place, or all that wasn’t, and had the ability to spark envy in an enviable man. “Nice place.”

“How may I help you?” 

“I have an offer to make you.”

Wooyoung nearly stumbled on his feet. When he’d walked out of the kitchen to see if anything had come of your call with the supplier, the last thing he’d expected was seeing you sat at a table with your old boss, having a chat, exchanging laughter. He’d quickly retreated, leaving you to it, seeing red. He didn’t need to know what was going on, nor did he want to. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he stared, unable to do anything else, at the timer of the oven ticking by. Every second you sat out there, was a second he needed to reason with himself and find out what the menacing grip that held his heart was. All Wooyoung knew was that he wished you’d walk through the kitchen doors, a bright smile on your face, ready to get back to work. 

And when you did, he couldn’t quite figure out the look on your face. He was dying to ask what Hwang wanted, no matter what it was, he needed whatever words you’d utter to soothe his burning curiosity. But you never spoke, keeping up your diligent work even past the timer dinging, through the kneading of the dough, its thirty-minute rest, and the several compressions through the pasta machine. He observed you carefully, like he always had, as you used a long knife to cut the noodles by hand as he was occupying the noodle cutter of the machine. Were you slipping through his fingertips again? His eyes on you had always felt like an encouraging, gentle caress. Always looking after and out for you. Wooyoung never noticed or wasn’t fully aware, that sometimes they still did. More often than not you felt the need to step away, or look away, under his gaze, caving in under his affection. 

You felt that you didn’t deserve to be looked at so tenderly, not anymore. 

He searched for words to say as the several pieces of dough were turned into noodles, but nothing came to mind. Nothing sounded right, not even in his head. Wooyoung let silence win this battle, preferring to let the whirring of the machine and the slicing of your knife talk, trying to work out all the tangled threads that were his thoughts. It was easy to mess up the noodles and have them stick together in an unsalvageable way; then you’d have to make them into dough again and put it through the machine, compressing it until it was ready to be cut up. He tried to treat his thoughts with the same care as noodles to avoid starting over. But Wooyoung wasn’t having the same luck. 

Your muttering from the other side of the kitchen prompted him to look your way, struggling to find some space in the refrigerator for your sheet-pans. He hid his smirk, tossing the last of his noodles with cornstarch.

“Why?” You turned around, hands on your hips, irritation barely at bay. Wooyoung raised a brow, doing his very best at pushing your buttons.

“Why did we make so many fucking noodles when we are stocked full?” 

“Because we need them,” he shrugged. “They’re tedious to make from scratch, it’ll make our lives easier.”

“Then you make space for them,” you huffed, hastily walking over to the dishwasher to start filling it with the utensils you’d just finished using. 

“What did Hwang want?” 

Wooyoung bit his tongue, watching how your back straightened at his question. He’d tried to sound casual, but the question turned out to be anything but. He couldn’t keep it in anymore, the longer he did, the more his nerves tested his peace of mind. Wooyoung watched as you froze, halting your movements, before turning to face him again. The furrow of your brow as you raked your eyes over him accelerated his heartbeat in mysterious ways, waiting with bated breath for your answer.

“Nothing important,” but it was to him. Wooyoung’s thoughts had taken him places he didn’t want to revisit. His heart had been swallowed with an all-consuming and unkindly familiar pain at the idea of you leaving him behind. Hwang had offered you a lot in the past, afforded you to realize your dreams, he knew that much. What could he give you, then?

“Then why did you take so long talking to him?” One way or the other, Wooyoung had to exorcize the sinking feeling in his chest along with the overpowering green monster resurfacing with all its might. The only way afforded to him now was to venomously spit his words to you.

“I’m not trying to put us in a hard place with our number one competitor,” you closed the loaded dishwasher behind you, coming closer to him, clouding his senses. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes and you lifted a brow, crossing your arms. 

“Fine, be that way,” you carelessly threw the towel that was resting on your shoulder upon the counter. “He came back to try and persuade me to work for him again.” 

And there they were, the words Wooyoung had feared the most. Someone who would whisk you away from him again as he watched helplessly, feeding into his fears. 

“I said no, Woo…” your voice put a halt to every thought drowning him, your eyes full of the same softness your voice was. Giving up the fight, extinguishing the fire of his worries, at the cost of your disappointment. You swallowed the bitter bite. “Did you really think I’d go back, that I’d leave this? That I’d leave you?”

His silence was answer enough. You nodded, pressing your lips together.

“Well, I wouldn’t.” 

You weren’t going to let him think like that, not now. 

“I wasn’t happy there, and there’s not a single thing he could offer that would make me as happy as you do.”

Wooyoung watched, stunned into silence, while you got rid of your jacket and murmured something about still having to call the supplier. The timid smile you gave him, eyes full of warm hope, moved something inside him that had been slowly waking up ever since you bumped into him down the street months ago. 

-

For so long, he’d tried to move on. In the end, it turned out that you wanted different things from him, and he had to accept that. Wooyoung couldn’t convince you to stay if you wanted to leave. So, with his heart aching and bursting at the seams with the hope that eventually you’d be back, he let you go. There was no way he could describe how he felt when he saw you again. Surprise struck him, leaving him disoriented for a long moment before his mouth spoke for him. As if his body had reacted to the presence of yours, remembering what it felt like to have you close. 

No, Wooyoung wasn’t surprised that he so readily welcomed you back into his life. You were trying, that much he could see, but he was, too. There was a battle going on inside his head that left him frustrated and confused when it came to you, to his feelings for you. His thoughts laid their armor down only in your presence. His heart knew you were the only one he’d ever truly loved. A love that bloomed at the wrong time, a fragile flower that didn’t survive the winter. Wilted and withered, you’d left him to mend the gashes. 

He did, only if it meant learning how to be without you, burning with the hope that one day, if the time was right, together you could grow flowers anew.

The chance was right there for him to take, and yet. It had taken him just a couple of hours after closing the kitchen to decide he needed to see you, and set things straight once and for all. 

“What are you doing here?” 

The sun was just about to set, gilded light flowing into your apartment from the window, bathing you in its gold. Wooyoung’s breath caught. For a fleeting instant, nothing else existed besides your confused pout and his erratic heartbeat. 

“Can we talk?” 

You nodded, opening the door wider to let him in, gesturing for him to follow to the kitchen. The sweet aroma hit him first, enveloping him, and he saw the cutting board in the sink after. It didn’t take him long to figure out you were making blackberry jam. 

“You’re stressed,” the words left his lips before he could realize he’d spoken them, your head jerking in his direction as you kept stirring the pot, only to nod right after. 

“Well, yeah, the opening’s just around the corner now and we-” your eyes fell back on the stove, briefly avoiding his. “What did you want to talk about?”

Wooyoung hesitated. He didn’t know. Rather, he was sure he needed to make things right. Clean the suffocating air of uncertainty when it came to you and what you were to him. What he was to you. You two were always good at dancing in the dark but now, in the light of day, it was hard to fall back into rhythm.  

“I’m sorry about the noodles,” he bit his tongue. Way to start. 

How could he say what he wanted to when his head was on fire? Still, you were there, waiting, occasionally stirring your jam, making his heart skip. Wooyoung sighed.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving.” 

Your hand halted its gentle movements, he saw your knuckles turning white. 

“Wooyoung-”

“No, let me say this,” he was pretty sure his lungs almost failed him when you turned to look at him, wide eyed, hanging onto his words. “I don’t really know how to act around you. At first, I wanted to be mad. Just a little bit, but found out quickly that after the anger was gone, there wasn’t much left. Just the part of me that wondered if you’d ever come back, if you missed me like I missed you. And if I push all the confusion back, it’s as easy as breathing. I never expected to want you with me as much as I do.” 

You turned off the flame, walking closer. 

“I never meant you any harm,” you were picking at your fingers, almost subconsciously, just like Wooyoung’s hand reached out to twine with yours, halting your nervous motions. “I‘m sorry that I let you down, and that I hurt you.”

“I know,” he squeezed your hand with a small sigh, eyes cast on them. “We weren’t meant to last.”

The words bitterly echo in the quiet kitchen, almost lost in the burbling coming from the stove. Wooyoung was tempted to let go of your hand and walk out the door, fragile like a house of cards, as if it cost him his whole heart to tell you the truth. To expose his confusion in fear it may be an imposition.  

“No, Woo, not when I was so confused and only put my dreams first. Not when we had so much that we would’ve held each other from,” your watery smile hit him square in the chest, your words feeding his worries. “But I think we were always meant to be. I still… I’ve always held so much love for you.” 

Wooyoung stopped breathing, letting the sweet taste of your words wash over him.

“Can we start over?” you asked, tentative, searching his face for any sign that you may have crossed a line. “I want to be by your side, at your pace, we’ll be whatever you want us to be. I wasn't ready then but I am now, and I know it'll take time but I want you to know that I'll be there. No matter how long, I'll always be there.”

The unruled hope, that he’d been fighting to keep at bay, finally broke free and sparked a fire in his chest that swallowed up his heart, holding it in a fierce grip, burning. Your hopeful, misty eyes told him more than words could, more than he could ever dare to imagine. He had longed to see them from this close again. 

“Didn’t you say that mixing feelings with work is the recipe for disaster?” 

Behind the carelessly amused shrug of your shoulders, your untamed smile shined with bright happiness. The hand that wasn’t holding his tentatively rose to cup his cheek and Wooyoung wasted no time in leaning in and basking in its warmth.

“I think we’d make it.” 

Your promise was enough for him. Wooyoung rested his forehead against yours, finding home in your sweet perfume once again. You were finally back into his arms, to hold and to love. Once your lips met his hesitantly, almost afraid at first but feverishly at last, the sweet and pleasantly tart taste of your kiss assured his head and heart that everything would be alright.

[sxftkxssxs]

hi hi! if its not too much trouble could u do M6 with an MC who rarely cries (im talking like 6 months in between each time they cry) who just breaks down sobbing one day and wont stop crying for hours? srry if this is too angsty lmaoo

i am so sorry for how late these new posts are gonna be in advance jfkdslds (also peep the new banner hehehe)

Gn!Reader

Asra

For how long he’s known you, he’d likely know that this would happen

Knowing the MC for nine years gives him the advantage

No matter what they might’ve had planned for that day they’re taking all day to comfort you

You don’t even have to ask for anything, Asra’s already got it ready. He’s got tissues on standby, your favorite food and some tea.

Faust will wrap around you, occasionally squeezing to give you some comfort

Asra will hold you as long as you need him to, you’re the most important thing in their life and they’ll stay there without question

He’ll recommend taking a nap together once you’re alright again, knowing after crying that long you’ve got to be exhausted

Definitely will go get you that pumpkin bread from the baker in the morning.

Julian

Immediate reaction is to panic

His brain runs at a mile a minute and in this situation it's no different

If you allow him to, Julian will hold you while you cry, whispering to you

If you don’t want him to touch you, he’ll get you anything you need!

Malak is such a good bird, sitting on your shoulder, letting you scratch his head (win-win on his end)

When you calm down he’ll ask you what exactly caused you to break down so badly

he’ll take you to Mazelinka’s after a while, hoping her motherly tendencies will help you and her soup, don’t forget her soup!

Julian definitely drags you to rest once you've calmed down though, he knows you've got to be exhausted after that

He'll make sure to be way more prepared next time (and have extra soup)

Nadia

Her first reaction is to wipe some of your tears away

She’ll keep her voice down, asking you what’s wrong and if there's anything she might be able to do 

She’ll take you both to her tower, offering to be there for you for as long as she’s able

The water in that tower is extremely calming, very effective at getting you relaxed

If you don’t want to tell her what exactly has you in this state she’ll understand, allowing you to come to her when you’re ready

Holds you very close that night, letting you listen to her heartbeat

Kisses your cheeks once you’re calmed down <33

Muriel

He’s definitely not built for this. 

He’s trying his best, and if you’re able to speak through your sobs and tell him what you need he’ll do it

Inanna just plops herself in your lap, letting you put a hand in her fur

Muriel’s not saying much, but he’s rubbing your back, getting you tissues when you run out, and silently offering to let you hold his hand

when you’ve calmed down he’ll wait for you to tell him what has gotten you so upset 

Muriel gives your hand a squeeze every so often to show he’s still there, and still listening

Muriel and Inanna agree that a snuggle pile doesn’t sound so bad for tonight 

Portia

She’s very good at comforting you

There's been times that someone in the palace needed some comfort, and she’s gotten very good at learning what everyone needs

She won’t touch you if you don’t want her to, but otherwise she’ll bundle you up in some spare blankets and sit with you and Pepi

She’ll have tissues somewhere in the room, she’d much rather wipe your tears herself

She won’t directly ask you what’s wrong until a long while after you’ve calmed down

Pepi just sits in your lap the whole time, purring as loud as possible

Portia will make sure you know that you can come to her any time for any reason 

Lucio

Before Lucio even finds you, Mercedes and Melchior find you first

Melchior is kind of all over you until he settles down (in your lap ofc.), but Mercedes just sits pushed up against your side

Eventually Lucio will find where you’re at, though he’s very confused on what he’s supposed to do for a second

He’ll sit with you and ramble a little, but that’s mostly because the silence feels quite awkward to him

Lucio will get you tissues if you ask him to (please don’t get snot on his dogs)

He’ll let you rant to him if you’d like, he will make small comments though! Things like “She did what?!” “That’s just ridiculous.”

He’s very good at hyping things up, the man did nothing but party while he was the Count and he’ll hype you up any time this happens

Good luck getting up though, the dogs fell asleep and they don’t plan on getting up any time soon

[babybluebex]

look ik that it's perv!eddie and he's a little shit but also i'm in a mushy mood and i need to know the moment that eddie realizes he's actually in love with his princess 🥺

rose omg this is so angsty, i planned for this to go one way and then it... evolved... but i promise it's not the last part!! there are a bunch more left!! cw angst, fighting, admissions of guilt, eddie lays everything on the line for princess, breakups

“Wait,” Eddie said firmly. He sat up, moving you from off of him, and your heart instantly plummeted into your stomach. Had you said the wrong thing? Were the movies right, and you had said it too soon and scared him? “Wait, wait, princess, what did you just say?”

“I-I said I love you,” you mumbled. “‘Cause I do! I love you a lot, Eddie—“

“You don’t love me,” Eddie said quickly. “It’s hardly been a month, a-and you’re just confused. You think you love me because you’re swimming in a soup of emotions right now, I mean, fuck, you just came and now you’re—!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you told him earnestly, grabbing at his arm. “I wanted to tell you the night we went to Stevie’s but I held off, but I’m done holding off! I-I love you, Eddie! I think about you all the time, I always want to be right next to you, I can’t wait to see you every day; isn’t that love?”

Eddie was quiet, watching you with wide eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered. “That’s love. Fuck, you love me, princess.”

“Uh-huh,” you said. “Um… Do you love me?”

“What?” Eddie asked sharply, and you jumped back, your hands falling from his arm as if he had burned you.

"Daddy—" you started, but Eddie shook his head quickly, silencing you without saying a single word.

"Don't call me that," Eddie said. "No, it only makes me... Makes me fall for you harder."

Your whole body went all hot, like melty ice cream, melting down Eddie's arm. "Do you..." you started. "Eddie. Please don't be mean right now."

"I'm not trying to be mean, princess," Eddie told you. "For once, with you, I'm trying to be genuine. I'm not trying to pull one over on you or take advantage of you right now, but I don't know how to be honest with you. But I love how you love me, and it scares the hell out of me because I am so not worthy of your love."

"Yes, you are," you told him. "Da-Eddie, you are so worthy of my love, because you've given me every reason to love you. You're kind to me and you respect me—"

"But I don't," Eddie said quickly. "Baby, you don't get it, I haven't done right by you, since the very first day we met. I've hurt you, in ways that you just don't understand, and I'm not sure you can ever understand—"

"Are you calling me dumb?" you asked. You didn't dare hold back your tears, and you sniffled and wiped your eyes on the back of your hand. "Maybe Nancy was right about you."

"She is," Eddie said, and your heart seized up. You expected a fight, for Eddie to call Nancy a nasty name and try to convince you that he was right and she was wrong, but his lack of fight only made you feel... Empty. "She's totally right about me. I'm no good for you, and you should break up with me right now, before you realize that I'm in love with you too now."

"Are you?" you asked. "Are you in love with me?"

"God, fuck, yes, I am," Eddie told you. "I love you so much, it makes my heart hurt. I do all the same as you described, I think about you all the time and I wonder what you're doing when you're away, and I fucking hate making you cry, I hate that shit so much. But I'm such an awful boyfriend to you, I'm an awful person to you, there's no reason why we should even be together in the first place."

"Eddie," you sobbed. "Please don't say that! I-I only wanna hear about how you love me, please just say it to me. I love you too, Eddie, I love you so much—"

"Stop it," Eddie said quickly. "Stop it, I told you, I'm not worthy—"

"You're not worthy because you've done bad things?" you asked. "I've done bad things too! I lie to my parents and cheat on my homework, and I graduate in a month and I don't know what I wanna do with my life, with college or with a job or anything, but you— You, Eddie! I feel like I have a purpose when I'm with you! I've never had a purpose before, and I like my purpose when I'm with you!"

"This is just what I mean, you don't understand," Eddie said. "You don't get it, because you're so sweet and nice, you're everything good with this world, and I've made you into something horrible. You should hate me for what I've done to you."

"What have you done to me?" you sniffled, crossing your arms over your chest indignantly. "Tell me, if it's so bad."

"I lied to you," Eddie said instantly. "The very first day, I lied to you. I lied to you to get you to show me your tits, because I'm selfish and wanted something, and I knew that I could manipulate you into getting what I wanted. That's all I've ever done to you, is lie to you and manipulate you, just so I can get what I want. I used you, baby, I used you and your innocence and your kindness to get what I want."

"What did you want?" you asked softly, hesitating to even ask. "What did you want from me that you had to lie to get?"

"I wanted you!" Eddie exclaimed. He sighed and stood still for a moment, watching you standing there, still in his shirt, your panties clinging to your hips, your legs still shaking from the beautiful orgasm he had given you, and seeing you standing there in such a state, sobbing with snot flowing from your nose, it only made him sigh again. "I wanted you, baby, and I knew there was no way I could get you if I was honest."

"That's not fair," you whined. "If I can't call you Daddy right now, you can't call me baby or princess or anything!" Your mouth screwed up in anger and the hot bubble of it was slothing in your chest, and you couldn't help the words that burst forth: "This is bullshit!"

Eddie looked wounded. "Baby, don't curse—" he started, but you brandished your finger at him, silencing him.

"I'll curse all I want!" you cried. "Because you made me this way! You used me, Eddie, you used me for your own fucking selfish wants, and you tell me that, but then you tell that you love me, like that makes it all okay? Fuck you, Eddie Munson. Take me home."

"Princess, please—"

"Take me home," you snapped. "Take me home, lose my number, you can tell Steve that I broke up with you because I finally wised up. I bet you guys had a big laugh over how stupid I am, huh?" You sniffled and mopped up your tears, and you bent down to grab your clothes, and you whipped the shirt up over your head. "Don't look at me," you told him, and Eddie sighed, looking away.

"For the record," Eddie said. "It was Steve's idea. Wanting to see your tits that night."

"Is that supposed to make it okay?" you asked. "You still went along with it."

By the time you were dressed again, Eddie had gathered his car keys, and he held the door open for you as you huffed out to his van. You pushed his hand away as you climbed up into the passenger seat, and you shut your own door before you crossed your arms and sulked.

The part that hurt the worst was that you loved him. You loved him with every part of you, every inch of you loved every inch of him, but he had used you. He was selfish and had abused you, and you couldn't find it in your heart to forgive him. The ride was quiet, Eddie taking his time with the drive, and, when you got home, you started to slam the door. "Wait," Eddie said, and he said your name. You couldn't ever recall him using your name once before— you were always his princess, his baby. "I'm sorry. Listen, I'm just sorry, alright? I know you're pissed at me, and you have every right to be, but... Call me if you want to. Okay? I love—"

You shut the door before he could finish.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

March 7th

~*~

1. There's been many fics where wwx takes his revenge, or fights for himself and his place and there are people to support him in it. ITMF fics where someone takes revenge for wwx / fights for wwx. Showing a lover love for him / brother or sister's love for him / mother's or parental figure's love for him.

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

~*~

2. ITMF:

A) War general wwx and/or lwj

B) W ar veterans wwx and/or lwj

2A)

the wei to the kingdom (is through the prince's heart) by Bird_of_Dreams (T, 4k, wangxian, Historical AU, royal family, Tournaments, Mutual Pining, WWX levels of obliviousness) features WY as a general but the war is over and doesn't feature in the story

🔒 Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending) both generals fighting in a war

The Silver Thread General by Itszero (E, 70k, wangxian, Imperial China, No Powers, General WWX, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Age Difference, Bottom LWJ, Forced Marriage, Protective WWX, POV LWJ, Childhood Friends, WWX is a Wēn, He was raised by them, WangXian Centric) wwx is a general but this isn't a fighting in war story

rebuttable presumption by sarah-yyy (WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Hurt LWJ, Enemies to Lovers)

2B)

Recovery by Unforth (G, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Rabbit Breeder LWJ, Veteran LWJ, Veteran WWX, PTSD, therapy animals, Therapy Rabbits, LWJ is an Asshole Sometimes, Doctor WQ, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Former Prisoner of War WWX, LXC is a Good Brother, Gray Asexual LWJ, Anxiety Disorder)

~*~

3. A) Hello, I'm looking for wwx centric and xz centric (this part in a YZ post ~Mod L) fics. Anything that has them as the main focus works. I'd prefer if their relationship with someone else is not main focus of the fic, rather, it's more about them as an individual???

B) Any fics where wwx leaves/runs away after everything instead of dying. Just want to see him making a life on his own, discovering himself, healing, etc. Modern aus are fine too.

Have a good day! @kthvcult

3A)

🔒 in this corner of the world by akahua (G, 4k, wangxian, Kind of angsty, Cooking, Chinese Food, Inspired by Little Forest, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Comfort Food, Sichuan Cuisine, Spicy Food, Hunan Cuisine, Suzhou Cuisine, Soup, Lotus Root and Pork Rib Soup for the Soul, Modern Setting) also fits 3B

3B)

something left to save by androids_fighting93 (E, 57k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, No Bloodbath of Nightless City, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies AU, Hurt/Comfort, single dad WWX, Sick Character, Golden Core Reveal, the lightest d/s dynamic if you squint, handjobs, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Dynamics) Does it count as alone if he takes A-Yuan with him?

Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 13k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, POV LWJ, īthis started as a crazy rich asians au but quickly got away from me, light moments of angst but mostly shenanigans)

Something Warm and Safe by Winxhelina (T, 13k, wangxian, JYL & WWX, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Warm, Friendship/Love, Love, much softer than it seems, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence)

~*~

4. Hi!! thank u guys so much for all your effort! i was hoping that in the next in the mood for (though i’d love a comp with this vibe) could i get a fic where wwx is genuinely loved by the juniors/has a good dynamic with them? I was thinking something close to what’s written in the “hills and rivers” series (and every single one where they will throw down to defend him no questions asked). Thank you! @thwispsings

Joy In the Midst of These Things series by Glitterbombshell (T, 53k, wangxian, post-canon, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, teacher WWX, trauma & recovery)

Proximity To Knowledge by ChilianXianzi (T, 7k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Married Wangxian, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Teacher WWX, Inventor WWX, And his research assistant Lan ducklings, LQR is not a good educator, the kids are alright, WWX did online learning before it was cool)

bespoke by cafecliche (G, 3k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Fluff, basically I worked in both politics and event-planning and this is what happened, LSZ is a very good boy, which is specifically a tag for the fic but also just true in general)

~*~

5. In the next available itmf post, could you/the community rec any fics where wwx is involved with activism? particularly if the fic highlights the hard and sometimes dangerous sides of the work. (I have vague memories of a few where it was LWJ who was involved, but I'm particularly interested in wwx for this request.) @balleyboley

like, comment, share & subscribe by detectorist (T, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, YouTube, Social Media, Flirting, Humour, Banter, Getting Together, First Kiss, Texting, so much texting, Youtubers For Social Justice, The Gang Gets Political, Competitive Flirting Via The Medium Of Youtube, it’s about the yearning, YouTube Rivals To Lovers) I'm not sure if this is what request 5 has in mind but these modern AUs have some element of WY being an activist

These Things Stay the Same by notevenyou (E, 30k, wangxian, Modern, Kid Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Injury, Natural Disasters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Accidents)

Keep Track of Losing Days by giraffeter (T, 74k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Case Fic, Police, Missing Persons, Getting Together, Flashbacks, Detective LWJ, antifa WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, First Meetings, Seattle, Mutual Pining, nonfatal car accident, mafia wens, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers)

Heat It Up! with Wei Ying by justpeace (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, coworkers to dating, Getting Together, Chinese Food, racism that largely happens offscreen, workplace racism, toxic workplace environment, Workplace Relationship, food as a metaphor for racism, Humor, Happy Ending, Angst and Humor, food as a metaphor for flirting, References to Drugs, Alcohol, Asian-American Character)

~*~

6. Hi ! This is an I’m in the mood for: I’m looking for a really good long and passionate Friends to lovers🩷 @red-spacekitten

See all this and more for just ten dollars a month! Series by ScarlettStorm (E, 382k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Pining, Porn, like in the writing and also as a plot point, onlyfans au, repressed lwj, sex worker wwx, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, hornt™, mental health, therapy is good actually, Nonbinary NHS, Gender Exploration, Hurt/Comfort, past trauma, genderfluid wwx)

~*~

7. hello! for the next in a mood for could i please get fics that have a similar vibe to “lynchpin” by shanastoryteller when it comes to yunmeg bros relationship, please??

🔒 to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 35k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JYL & WWX & JC, JC & LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soulmates, Chronic Illness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease, but as a curse, LWJ says fuck, Feelings Realization, obsession with interior design, JGY is bad, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Family Angst, sibling angst, LXC says fuck, He's very stressed, soft, Wedding, LQR was in love once too, Motion Sickness, sect politics, Marriage Proposal, YZY had reason to be angry, JFM feels guilty and so he should, Madam Lan was imprisoned for no reason)

~*~

8. haai! for the next in a mood for could i please request fics where jin guangyao feels the weight of comeuppance? like actually has to deal with the consequences of his actions instead of just dying outright. thank uuu UwU

~*~

9. Hello I hope you are wellI would like to ask you if you could help me find fanfic where Lan Wangji is the one who travels back in time to fix everything or where Lan Wangji Furuto travels to the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi, the genre could be Wangxian or Xianwang Could you please do me a big favor and thank you, I love your work. @alfithia

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ) Not so much LWJ time travel fix everything more LWJ time travel break things in a different way that benefits WWX

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon) LWJ time loop

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, slow burn, getting together, first time, pining, pining while fucking, burial mounds settlement days, angst w happy ending)

The Wild Geese’s Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, wangxian, time travel fix-it)

I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 51k, WIP, WangXian, Lan protective team, Time Travel, Past, LWJ oriented, Arranged Marriage, Boys In Love, Soulmates, Fix-It, Jiang siblings, not jiang parents friendly, Soft LWJ, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX)

The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 86k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, family, not lan sect friendly, canon typical violence & gore, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, mothers who live, some people live/not everyone dies)

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10. Itmf lwj protects wwx’s virtue… “only I can look at him” vibes; jealous, protective, and chivalrous lwj.

A Baby Dragon's Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing by sweetlolixo (M, 102k, wangxian, fantasy au, dragon LWJ, fox WWX, younger LWJ, older WWX, fluff, humor, happy ending) if the person doesn't mind AUs, then A Baby Dragon's Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing is the penultimate story for protecting Wei Ying's virtue.

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11. ITMF war fics. Like actual real war. Not like how people potray sun shot campaign, but war like WW1 WW2. If it could be modern , I would love it. But canon era will work too. Thankyou.

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12. this is for itmf!

does anyone know any good Xicheng fics?

(I've already read Audience of One by WinterDreams !!)

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13. hiii thank you so much for all the work that u do! ive been reading every recs for a week now >< that said, do u have any fics where wangxian are kids and are being there most adorable selves? i've been in the mood for baby wangxian and fluff lately. Thanks again!!

🔒 If You are with Me | End Racism in OTW by Starkalways1 (G, 5k, wangxian, Babyji and Babyxian story)

藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan} by Admiranda, AshayaTReldai (M, 45k, WangXian, Orphan WWX, Childhood Friends to Lovers, wwx raised in the lan clan, softer lqr, Good Uncle LQR, Good lan clan, Good Older Sibling LXC)

🔒 Hope series by RoseThorne (M, 59k, wangxian, WIP, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death, Resentment, Anger, Explosions, Yīn Iron, Grief/Mourning, POV WWX)

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14. Itmf war fics. Relationship or marriage in between war?

Not That Great a Sacrifice by Winglesss (E, 37k, wangxian, historical fantasy au, arranged marriage, marriage of convenience, elemental magic, pining, UST, forbidden love, miscommunication, weddings, fluff & humor, light angst w/ happy ending)

tie a knife with a ribbon by iliacquer (E, 5k, wangxian, Dubious Consent, Bottom LWJ, YLLZ WWX, D/s, Rimming, Frottage, a lot of smut, a sprinkling of plot for flavour, war prize LWJ)

Conquering the Emperor by catbrainedschemes (E, 21k, wangxian, Historical AU, Imperial China, Emperor WWX, General LWJ, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Historically Inaccurate, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Light Angst, Non-Graphic Violence, Getting Together, Sexual Tension, Some Plot, Slow Burn, Happy Ending)

what price is duty, what cost is love by thunderwear (G, 18k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, WWX was never adopted by the Jiang Sect, War Prize, YLLZ WWX, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, First Time, Falling In Love, eventual dramatic confessions, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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15. thanks for the hard work admins! any fics where lwj falls in love with wwx at first sight? thanksss❤️

smoke gets in your eyes by orphan_account (T, <1k, wangxian, WIP, F/F, Modern, Chef WWX) very short but very cute crush forming, wlw wangxian

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16. Itmf good madam yu fics.

A) she's always been good.

B) she grows good as fic progresses.

C) she's like - "yeah that is a nuisance gremlin, but you see that's MY nuisance gremlin " - for wwx @constellationdks

16B)

🔒❤️ the thing with feathers by RoseThorne  (G, 43k,wangxian, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Fear, Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Sexual Tension, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect)

16C)

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 78k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Only WWX Could Have an Empress to Farmer Pipeline, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, LWJ will grovel to the ends of the earth to make it up to WWX don’t worry, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan, not LWJ friendly)

🧡 Heaven Has No Rage by flipfloppandas (M, 51k, WWX & YZY, JFM/YZY,  implied wangxian, WWX/WC, WWX/others, rape/non-con, modern, hurt/comfort, protective YZY, good parent YZY, hospitals, medical procedures, vomiting, trauma) It’s a moderne AU I liked it a lot it’s a YZY pov but it is very hard to read (READ THE TAGS)

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17. Hi! 🤗

Looking for the other fic, make me want to read more fics about WWX having his own sect. I really think WWX would be a great sect leader. So this is an ask for ITMF. ☺️ Thanks again for everything! 💕 @wangxiansgirl

I think there is a yiling Wei sect compilation on this blog!

🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX's Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 3: "Betrayal"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: This one is a very angsty installment because we get Elektra in it! And I know some of you probably love her (and I have no qualms with that), but she's definitely not good for Matt and I definitely played that up in this series because, well, angst. So I hope you enjoy because this one hurts... You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here. And y'all catch that foreshadow? Because the next one is titled "All the Broken Pieces" for a reason...

Tag list: @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @acharliecoxedfan

"Dude, no, how can you possibly think ramen sounds better than pizza right now?" Foggy asked.

"Because," you began, shooting Foggy a pointed look as the pair of you exited the elevator onto the floor of his dorm, "we had pizza last Saturday night. It's been over a month since we've gotten ramen. Therefore, ramen sounds better."

"There is no way soup trumps pizza!" Foggy disagreed.

The pair of you turned the corner of the hallway, Foggy and Matt’s dorm room coming into view. Shaking your head, you readjusted the weight of your backpack on your back.

"Ramen is so much more than just soup , Fog," you argued. "That's an absolute insult to ramen."

"It's glorified soup at best," Foggy stated firmly. "But pizza reigns supreme–especially supreme pizza."

The two of you came to a stop in front of his dorm room door, Foggy pulling his key from his pocket as he waggled his eyebrows at you, clearly proud of his joke. You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as he turned and unlocked the door. 

"Okay,” Foggy conceded as he opened the door, “how about we just order–"

But the sight before you both in the dorm room immediately cut him clean off. Your jaw dropped as you witnessed Matt, who was clearly naked under the covers, quickly rolling off of his very clearly naked girlfriend. Though she looked less bothered by the intrusion than Matt as she leisurely pulled the sheets up to cover herself. 

"Oh, shit, sorry buddy," Foggy apologized in a rush, his cheeks turning pink. "I didn't–didn't realize you were here and doing things of a particular nature."

Matt held the sheets over his lower half, his bare upper torso exposed. His shoulders were heaving as he tried to catch his breath, an uncomfortable smile spreading on his flushed face as he focused his attention by the door where Foggy had spoken. All the while you tried hard not to stare at Matt’s exposed bare and muscled chest–something you noticed Elektra noticing. 

And then jealousy abruptly unfurled in your gut once the scene before you really settled in over the surprise of seeing Matt shirtless. You hated Elektra. And you knew the sight of catching them having sex was going to be forever painfully seared into your mind now. Your heart felt like it was withering in your chest as she settled in comfortably beside Matt in his bed. Stomach twisting into knots as you tried to regain your composure, you closed your mouth and clenched your jaw. You were not going to cry in front of Elektra.

"Uh, didn't realize you would be coming back so soon tonight," Matt said awkwardly.

"Or with your little girlfriend," Elektra added, gesturing a hand at you. 

"She's not my girlfriend," Foggy stated, his annoyance at Matt’s girlfriend only just barely contained.

A very sly smile slid onto her red lips as she watched you intently from across the room. You crossed your arms over your chest as you tried hard to fight back the heat steadily growing in your cheeks. She was so infuriating, you couldn't understand what Matt saw in her to keep her around as his girlfriend. And you didn't understand why he would have a relationship with someone like her when he so often had praised you for your kindness and compassion–things she greatly lacked that he seemed to greatly admire. 

It had also been awhile since Matt had really hung out with you and Foggy. Three months, to be exact. The exact length of time he'd been seeing her . Elektra Natchios. Or the Soul Sucking Snake Devil as Foggy and you had both taken to referring to her whenever Matt wasn't around. Because that's exactly what she'd done the moment she popped into Matt's life. 

He'd been different ever since she'd shown up. He often prioritized her above his class work, on occasion even skipping classes. And if it hadn't been for Foggy staying on Matt's ass about it, his grades probably would've slipped by now. He was always out late with her doing who the hell knew what –you could only guess. Foggy had even told you that sometimes he would wake up to find that Matt wasn't even in his bed in the mornings. And you both noticed how Matt had been drinking more with her, too–to get drunk, not even just the social drinking the three of you usually did. He'd also been quick to anger, and he certainly never had much time for you and Foggy anymore. 

You’d honestly barely seen Matt much since she’d appeared. He was hardly ever around when you were here with Foggy, especially on Saturday nights, which used to be a weekly ritual for the three of you. Even at mealtimes he was oddly missing from the dining hall. The last time you’d seen Matt was over a week ago, and it was just in passing as he was leaving his dorm to go meet up with his soul sucking girlfriend.

"You still seem quite prudish, darling," Elektra called out to you in that irritating accented voice of hers. "It's like you've never walked in on two people fucking before. Which, by the sounds of your roommate, shouldn't be such a shock."

Slowly your hands curled into fists where they were crossed over your chest, your nails biting into your palms. Anger burned in your blood, the urge to punch her growing steadily the more she continued to look at you. As if she knew exactly what you were thinking, she flashed her teeth at you in a very threatening smile.

"Maybe you should take some pointers from your roommate," she purred. "Then maybe you'd get out of the friend zone with whoever it is that's got you crying so much."

One of her dark brows rose high up onto her forehead, a knowing smirk pulling the corner of her lips upward. Her hand reached out to Matt’s chest, her nails running along the length of his torso in a clearly territorial manner. 

Your eyes had slowly gone wide when her words registered in your mind. Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes flew to Matt. An ache hit you right in the heart, white hot and painful, as he sent you an abashed, apologetic smile. 

"You told her that?" you asked in disbelief. 

"She was asking about you the other week," Matt admitted awkwardly, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. "If you were seeing anyone. I didn't think it was a big deal–"

"You didn't think the personal details about myself that I shared with you in private weren’t a big deal and that you could just share that information with whoever the hell you wanted?" you asked, your anger only growing. 

"Dude, that's not cool," Foggy pointed out, shaking his head.

"Well she wanted to know if you were seeing anyone!" Matt defended. "How was I supposed to know I couldn't tell her the situation?"

“Because I told you that in confidence , Matt!” you yelled. “You’re a fucking law student, you’d think you’d know what the fuck that meant!”

“Oh darling,” Elektra said cooly, her arm wrapping possessively around the back of Matt’s neck as she spoke, “maybe if you’d just told this gentleman what you thought of him sooner, instead of pining for months , you wouldn’t be in this situation, hmm?”

Your lip curled back in disdain, watching the smug smile she sent your way. She damn well knew this 'gentleman' was Matt. You swore she'd known months ago when you'd first met her, and then she intentionally tried to goad you whenever you were around the pair of them. Only Foggy ever seemed to notice, Matt somehow not believing that she was being intentionally cruel to you. 

And now once again you found yourself fighting back tears because of Matt. You were so tired of crying over him. You didn't want to feel like this anymore.

Spinning on your heel, you stalked off away from their room, no longer in the mood for pizza or ramen. Or social interaction. You were going to go find somewhere quiet where you could cry, which you couldn't even do in your dorm because your roommate was no doubt there with her new boyfriend. 

Hands tightening around the straps of your backpack, you hurried down the hallway. You felt the tears coming now despite how hard you were struggling to keep them back. She was such a bitch . So heartless and callous. And you hated that Matt somehow fell for her, that he somehow couldn't see what she truly was like. You knew he was blind, but how was he that blind? What the hell did he see in her that made her more desirable to him than you? 

Slamming your finger into the call button for the elevator, a soft sob fell out of you. She somehow always managed to make you feel like shit, but you couldn't believe Matt had told her something so personal. He'd occasionally asked you about your crush on and off for months ever since he'd first found out about it after that night at the bar. He knew how much you didn't even want to talk to him about it–because it was him you had feelings for–so how could he have thought it was okay to share that with Elektra? 

You heard footsteps coming down the hall behind you and you straightened, sniffling loudly as you wiped a hand across the dampness on your cheeks quickly. You didn’t need someone to see you crying, that would only make you feel worse. And you didn’t want some awkward elevator ride where the person beside you was pretending you weren’t crying while you stood awkwardly beside each other.

But then you heard your name uttered from Matt's lips and your eyes slowly closed. You wanted to disappear at the sound of his voice. Just fucking melt into the floor and avoid whatever awkward and uncomfortable conversation this was about to be. You didn’t want to have it.

"What do you want, Matt?" you asked, an edge to your tone.

You didn't bother turning around because you didn't want to look at him; you didn’t think you could. The moment that elevator came up to the floor you wanted to jump in and close the doors on him. What he'd done, betraying your trust like that, hurt you.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't think it was a big deal," he said gently. "She just asked because she was curious if you were seeing someone. She thought maybe the guy you were interested in was Foggy. I mean, I sort of always wondered that myself."

You pulled a face, surprised at what he'd said. He thought the guy you were upset over was Foggy ? All this time?

"You think I like Foggy?" you asked in shock. 

"I mean, it makes sense," he answered slowly. "You two are always together. You have a lot in common. And you are good friends," he finished weakly.

Eyes widening, you spun around to face Matt, about to tell him that he was wrong and that you and Fog were strictly friends, but you faltered the moment you took in the sight of him standing there. He'd only managed to throw on a pair of jeans, his torso still bare and exposed–you would be lying if you said your eyes hadn't lingered on the sight of his bare chest yet again. You saw that he hadn't thrown on his glasses either, apparently in a rush to chase after you. His hair was a disheveled mess on his head, mussed no doubt by Elektra's hands. That knowledge only drove the knife further into your heart and twisted it. 

He was so unbelievably handsome that it physically hurt to look at him right now. It didn't help that you absolutely hated who he’d become because of Elektra these past three months. When he hadn’t been with her he was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, always considerate of you; he was even considerate and incredibly kind to strangers he didn’t know. And the way he talked about wanting to use his degree in law to help those who weren't fortunate enough to be able to afford good legal representation, especially with that inspiring passion he always spoke about it with, had only ever made you want to just grab him and kiss him senseless. He was so goddamn smart and so well-spoken. So passionate about what he was doing and so driven when it came to his education. And he had the most beautiful heart you had ever seen in someone on top of it all.

Which was why it absolutely killed you to see him with Elektra. She had ruined all that goodness in Matt the moment she appeared and sunk her claws into him. She didn't even look at him the same way he looked at her. He always gazed at her with a warm affection that lit up his entire face whenever she was near; and you’d often thought what you wouldn't give to be the one he looked at like that, to have him feel like that for you. Instead you saw how she looked at him like he was a toy to wind up and play with, which is exactly what she was always doing with him. Calling him at all hours and demanding he drop everything for her. And he would go running to her like a lost puppy every goddamn time, not caring how it was destroying his friendship with you and Foggy or beginning to affect his grades. And you swore she had only mentioned you being interested in Foggy as a way to push Matt further away from you, though you didn't understand why considering she already had him.

"Foggy and I are just friends, Matt," you stated firmly. "Always have been. He likes that girl Marci. Which you'd know if you were ever around anymore."

"I'm around," he said defensively.

The elevator opened behind you with a ding and you forced your attention off of his half-naked body, turning and stepping into it. Matt instantly rushed forward, throwing a hand out and holding the doors open. You exhaled sharply, irritated that he was drawing this out as you reached out and roughly pressed the button for the main floor.

"I'm around," he said again more firmly. 

"I don't even remember the last time you joined us for a Saturday night," you told him.

"Because you and Foggy openly dislike Elektra!" he snapped. "Both of you are so rude to her. You make her so uncomfortable that she doesn't want to spend time with either of you."

Your jaw dropped, shock written all over your face at what he'd said. And then a bitter, humorless laugh flew up out of you. Matt's lips curved into a deep frown at the sound, his left eye twitching a little.

Of course she made it seem like you and Fog were the ones being hurtful and cruel. She would do anything to try to shove a bigger wedge between Matt and his friends, making it so he’d just be all hers. It was such an Elektra move that you were more shocked you hadn’t realized she was doing that to begin with. 

“Foggy and I don’t like her because she’s not good for you,” you shot back. 

“What are you talking about?” he countered, his brows furrowing. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She understands me like no one else ever has.”

You winced at his words as if they’d somehow struck you themselves. Elektra was the best thing that had ever happened to Matt? That sure as shit fucking hurt to hear. Especially considering the way she treated him and how she was slowly but surely tearing apart his life.

“Foggy and I have known you far longer, Matt,” you said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “I think we understand you a little better.”

Matt shook his head instantly, his lips thinning out on his face. “No,” he replied. “Neither of you get me like she does. She’s the only one who truly understands me.”

“Wow, ouch, Matt,” you snapped.

His eyes narrowed as he focused along your chest. You shifted your backpack, the weight of it starting to bother you as he silently scrutinized you, his hand still holding the elevator doors open. You wished he’d just let them go already.

“I’m tired of the way you and Foggy treat her,” he finally said, his voice almost a low growl. “She deserves better than that. And I’m sorry I told her about your little crush and that it hurt your feelings, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

His words felt like they’d cut you, your breath catching in your throat as you stood there speechless. It felt like you couldn’t take a full breath, your ribcage feeling like it was collapsing in on your lungs at the callousness in his words.

And I’m sorry I told her about your little crush and that it hurt your feelings, but it’s not that big of a deal.

This wasn’t Matt before you, not the Matt you knew at least. Not the one you were head over heels for, the one who’d often walked you back to your dorm or understood all of your ridiculous jokes. The one you’d had serious conversations with when Foggy inevitably passed out early on Saturday nights, the pair of you side by side on Matt's bed. You didn’t know who the hell this version of Matt was before you, glaring and saying such hurtful things, the one who so clearly didn’t care about your feelings. 

You hated the way your lips had begun to quiver, that pain and hurt causing tears to once again form in your eyes. Anger and heartache mingled inside of you, boiling in your blood and twisting in your gut. You let out a deep breath, one that shook as it left your lips. Matt’s expression swiftly changed at the sound of it, as if he’d suddenly realized he’d upset you.

Taking a step forward, you grasped his wrist on the hand he was blocking the elevator doors with. You glared back at Matt, jaw clenched as you grit your teeth. You never thought there’d be a time you’d want to hit him, but right now you certainly wished you could.

“You’re a shitty friend, Matthew Murdock,” you spat.

Yanking his hand from off the elevator doors, you tossed it back towards him. He’d been so surprised by your outburst that he hadn’t even reacted. And as the elevator doors finally started to close, the last thing you saw was Matt’s stunned face.

Your back had begun to ache from its place against the tree trunk, the bark rough through the thin fabric of your sweatshirt. It was cold this evening, Fall really starting to settle into New York City now. You assumed it was still a bit too early for you to head back to your dorm, but since you’d turned your phone off, you didn’t really know what time it was or how long you’d been sitting under this tree. After awhile you’d eventually stopped crying, though that hollow ache in your chest seemed to be taking a permanent residence tonight.

“Hey, thought I’d find you here.”

Turning at the voice, you looked up to spot Foggy slowly lowering down to the ground beside you. You shifted, making room for him against the tree trunk. For a few minutes neither of you spoke, Foggy just sitting beside you as you continued to stare at the distant traffic on the nearby street that was just a little past Columbia’s campus. 

“I’m sorry about Matt,” Foggy eventually said, breaking the silence. 

You shrugged. “Not your place to make apologies for him,” you muttered.

“I know, but I feel bad,” he replied. “He shouldn’t have told Elektra you had a crush on someone. He knows how much it's torn you apart for months now. Even if he doesn't know that it's about him. That was still an incredibly shitty thing of him to do.”

“It was,” you agreed. “And his apology about telling her was fucking terrible.”

Beside you, Foggy nodded. “Yeah, he ended up sending Elektra away when he came back from talking with you. He seemed pretty hurt and upset, especially with what you’d said.”

“Good,” you growled. “He deserves to be the one hurting for once. He was an asshole.”

“He was,” Foggy agreed. “But I think there’s just something about Elektra that’s gotten into his head. He hasn’t been himself lately. I don’t–don’t think that’s Matt. I don’t understand what she’s doing to him, but…he’s not acting like the guy I’ve known for a while now.”

“She’s definitely sucked his soul out of him,” you grumbled, toeing the grass with your shoe.

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” Foggy said, exasperation evident in his tone. “I can’t break them up, and Matt clearly can’t be reasoned with lately. But he’s slipping. I’m worried about him. And I’m worried about what’s going to happen when she breaks his heart, because I think we both know she’s not going to stick around for the long haul.”

Your heart twisted at the thought of the inevitable day where Elektra broke up with Matt. Foggy was right, there was absolutely no way Elektra was the long term girlfriend type. It was a shock she’d been with Matt for three months already. It felt like the expiration date for their relationship was fast approaching, and you weren’t looking forward to the mess she was going to leave behind in her wake.

“It’ll kill him,” you mumbled.

Foggy let out a deep, dejected sigh as his head fell back to rest along the trunk of the tree beside yours. 

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “And he won’t even see it coming.”

“Nope,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Because she’s perfect . She could never possibly do any wrong by him.”

“And in the end, we’ll be the ones left picking up all the shattered little broken pieces,” Foggy said. “Trying to piece our friend back together. Despite how he’s treated us for the duration of this relationship.”

Your eyes closed, the sting of tears once again returning. Because you knew Foggy was right. You’d still be there with him, helping Matt pick up the pieces of his heart that he willingly let Elektra smash to tiny bits. 

Because, like the incredibly foolish idiot you were, you’d gone and fallen in love with him. And for some reason you were too stupid to just walk away.

“Yup,” you whispered, a lone tear falling down your cheek. “We’ll still be here. Doing what friends do.”

[gunwookies]

cute things zb1 does in a relationship

pairing: zb1 x gn! reader genre: fluff! suggestive at hao's, lil angsty at taerae's warnings: slightly cringey word count: 3.5k notes: I tried to write every character based on my interpretation of the members! also for yujin's I assumed the reader goes to school since he does too.

jiwoong:

he always makes sure that you are well fed!

jiwoong always asks you if you’ve eaten. just like he cares so much about his health, he cares so much about your health! when you’re stressed you often forget to eat so he’s the one that always makes sure your tummy is full! he lovesss to cook for you! when you come home from work tired, he knows that food is the way to your heart. so he always welcomes you home with a plate of rice or a bowl of soup ready to listen to you talk about your day. if you’re too tired he’ll even feed you because he finds you so cute.

you unlock your apartment door, trudging through. your nose is hit with the strong smell of garlic and chili oil. your eyes find their way towards the kitchen, where jiwoong’s back is facing you as he spoons some bibimbap into a porcelain bowl.

“you’re home?” jiwoong asks, his back still facing you as he finishes preparing the food. you smile to yourself as his voice gives you the comfort you’d been longing for all day. you drop your bags on the couch as you head towards the kitchen. you wrap your arms around jiwoong’s waist, snuggling your cheek into his back. you feel jiwoong slightly giggle and look up to see the cute crinkle of his eyes. “are you tired?” he asked, looking down at you over his shoulder.

 “mhm,” you affirmed. he turned around to face you, your arms still around his waist. his hands reached your face, fingers cupping your cheeks as he placed a small peck on your forehead. his fingers lightly caress your ears as he places his forehead against yours.

“how about you have some of this bibimbap i made you and then we can watch a movie and cuddle? yeah?” he whispers. you nodded enthusiastically before stealing a quick peck on his lips.

zhang hao:

constantly praises and compliments you

hao is your number one fan and he always wants you to remember that. he literally cannot go an hour without praising you. he’ll randomly stop you when you’re walking together down the street to just tell you how beautiful you look. as soon as you wake up next to him, hair all messy and face puffy, he doesn’t hesitate to tell you how attractive you are as he looks straight into your eyes. he loves seeing how shy you get at his words, but even more how you gain confidence when you are around him. he definitely feels pride from having such an amazing partner as you.

you wrapped a towel around your body as you stepped out of the shower. hao had booked a dinner reservation for the both of you as it was your three year anniversary. you were so excited as today was such a special day and you were ready to spend it with your boyfriend in such a romantic way. as you walked out of the bathroom, you saw hao leaning against the bedframe, scrolling on his phone. his gaze raised as he saw you from the corner of his eyes. a small smirk formed on his lips as his eyes were glued on your frame. he shoved his phone into his pocket as he walked towards you. you didn’t pay him any mind as you walked towards your closet, looking for something to wear. as you stood in front of your clothes, you felt hao’s arms snake around your waist. 

“you look so beautiful, right now,” he whispered, placing a small kiss on your neck. he continued to place kisses all across your neck and shoulders.

“come on, hao. i need to get dressed.”

“but you just look so gorgeous like this. i can’t believe i get to see this beauty with my own two eyes,” he whispers into your ear, before he places a kiss there. you turn around, hiding your blushing face into his neck. 

“we’re gonna be late.”

“ i think we should just stay home and do… other things,” he smiled innocently. and of course, you could only agree.

hanbin:

loves to spoil you

hanbin just loves to see you happy, especially when he’s the reason. and he’ll do anything to achieve that. he always notices the twinkle in your eyes when you see something you want. he doesn’t even think twice about buying it for you, because he just want to see you happy like that. you never even ask for anything but hanbin just always knows exactly what you want. even just going to the convenience store, he always brings something for you. even when you don’t ask for anything. more than anything, he loves giving you meaningful gifts. like how he once gifted you a weighted blanket because you complained that you weren’t sleeping well. 

you rushed down the stairs of your apartment, still in your pjs. hanbin had texted you that he was outside of your apartment. you were completely confused as you had just seen each other for breakfast this morning. but it was still an opportunity to see your favorite person, so you were delighted. as you walked outside in the windy cold, you noticed hanbin leaning against a tree. he broke into a sweet smile as his eyes met yours. you walked towards him and noticed his hands hidden behind his back. 

“hey, love,” he smiled as you reached him. you waddled in front of him, placing a peck on his lips. you noticed how his arms didn’t even reach to touch you as you kissed him. you looked down to see he was holding something in his hands. hanbin noticed your gaze and hesitantly stretched his arms towards you. flowers. he bought you a bouquet of flowers. you broke into a smile, noticing how they were your favorite flowers, camelia flowers. 

“what is this for?” you asked, as you grabbed the bouquet, placing it against your chest.

“i just saw them as i was walking home and i had to get them for you. pretty flowers for such a pretty person,” he said, smiling shyly, his ears growing red. you giggled, leaning into his embrace. 

“thank you, hanbinnie,” you muttered, kissing his cheek.

matthew:

he loves taking pictures of you

matthew just loves admiring your beauty. anytime he can, he just takes out his phone and snaps a picture of you. he especially loves doing it in secret. whenever he wakes up before you in the morning, he loves to sneak pictures of you sleeping because you just look so peaceful and beautiful. he even has a picture album named after you where he just has pictures of you. whenever you guys go on dates he always makes sure to take a picture of you, wether it be from across the table or in front of a beautiful scenery. whenever you’re not with him, he’ll go through the photo album and smile at the beauty. 

you walked hand-in-hand with your boyfriend over a bridge that overlooked the han river. 

“aw, come on! i was not that awkward,” matthew whined as he recalled the day he confessed to you.

“matthew, you were stuttering and you couldn’t even look me in the eyes,” you giggled, leaning your head on his shoulder. it was true, you had never seen matthew look so nervous until that day three years ago. 

“okay, i definitely was nervous. but, you can’t blame me. i liked you so much that i probably wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if you rejected me.” you giggled, pinching his cheek. you settled back into comfortable silence as your eyes wandered around your surroundings.

“the river looks so beautiful with all the lights reflecting on it like that,” you noticed, stopping to stare. 

“it really does look beautiful. here, go stand there. let me take a picture,” mathew says, taking out his phone. you walked over towards the edge of the bridge, standing awkwardly in front. you didn’t really know what to do so you just threw up a peace sign as you always did. “come on, y/n. you can do better than that,” matthew says. “you should look at my instagram for inspo,” he grinned behind the camera. you giggled, before throwing your hands back into the peace signs. what you didn’t know is that matthew was able to capture that beautiful smile of yours. “you look so cute!” he praised as he looked at the pictures he took. 

taerae:

takes care of you even when he’s mad at you

you’re taerae’s number one moodmaker. so when you fight, it really hurts him. because of that he tends to give you the silent treatment. if he tries to talk to you he knows he’ll break down into tears so he just waits for you to come up to him. but, you can be just as stubborn as him so this could mean whole days without talking. however, taerae feels responsible for taking care of you anyways, so he does so in small and quiet ways, like leaving you coffee in the morning when you wake up, throwing a blanket over you and turning the tv off when you fall asleep on the couch, or folding your laundry just the way you like it without asking, which usually cause you to give in and forgive him. 

you had locked yourself in your room for hours, silently crying in your bed as you replayed the scene over in your head. you had never fought so bad with taerae and it was all for nothing. it was stupid. you hated fighting with him. why’d he have to overwork himself so much? why couldn’t he just come home and rest with you? it wasn’t fair that his agency was taking your boyfriend away from you. but it was also his dream, and you couldn’t take that away from him. you just wanted to run into his arms and hug him and tell him everything was okay. but then the scenes of him yelling at you, eyebrows furrowed replayed in your head. you were too stubborn to forgive him so easily. suddenly, you heard a knock at the door. you jolted in your bed, standing up to head to the door. you hesitated before opening it, as you weren’t sure if you wanted to face taerae like this. however, you wiped your tears and opened the door. to your surprise, there was no one there. but you looked down and noticed a cup of tea on the floor.  as you picked it up, you noticed there was a note stuck to it. 

“i love you no matter what. i’m sorry - taerae”

ricky:

he loves to make you nervous

ricky is such a naturally flirty guy, but only with you. so, he just loves doing little things that he knows will make your heart flutter. you’re usually pretty shy when it comes to physical affection, so ricky loves to catch you off-guard. he loves to see the way your breath hitches and your eyes panic when he does something risky. he doesn’t care if you’re alone or surrounded by people. but secretly, it affects ricky just as much as it does to you. he would never want you to know how fast his heart beats or how his hands shake, when he does these kinds of things.

“hahah loser! i’ve beaten you three times now,” you say as you stick out your tongue at your boyfriend. ricky pouted as he threw the game controller onto the bed. 

“it’s just because you’re distracting me!” he whined, throwing himself back on the bed. you shook your head in disbelief.

“what do you mean? i’m just playing mario kart fair and square! i haven’t even talked to you!” you mirrored ricky’s pout, crossing you arms against your chest. 

“yeah, well you’re so cute i can’t focus,” he mutters. your breath hitched just the slightest.

“ricky… th-this is just your way of sidetracking me so i’ll lose. guess what? it won’t work!” ricky chuckled, sitting back up as he gripped the game controller.

“we’ll see about that? if i win this next round, you owe me ice cream,” he proposed. 

“deal. you won’t win though,” you affirmed. this time you were completely determined to beat ricky, this was ice cream on the line. as the game started, your eyes were focused on the screen. you were pleased to realize you were beating ricky! though he was only two places behind you, you were sure that you could beat him. that was until an overwhelming force pushed your back into the bed. less than a second later, a pair of lips attacked yours. they moved swiftly against yours, his tongue lightly licking your lips. you could feel your heart beating a thousand miles per hour. without realizing it, you became completely captivated and forgot all about the game. but, ricky didn’t. just as quickly as he kissed you, he parted from you, getting back into the game. and before you knew it, he had won.

“RICKY!” you whined, lightly punching his bicep. 

“you were totally into it,” he smirked. “and you owe me ice cream.”

gyuvin:

he’s literally attached to your hip

apart from being your boyfriend, gyuvin is your bestfriend. that’s why he wants to do absolutely everything with you. he also thinks you’re literally the cutest person on earth, so he tends to baby you. no matter what you’re doing, gyuvin either has an arm around you, his hand in yours, caressing your face, your hair. there is absolutely no scenario in which gyuvin isn’t touching you in some way. and you’ve become absolutely dependant on his touch, to the point where you’ve become just as needy for his touch. 

you were laying on the couch of your shared apartment, gyuvin’s head laying on your lap. your fingers played with his hair, gently ruffling it as your eyes stay stuck on the tv screen. suddenly, you felt a storm in your stomach. gyuvin turned his head to look at you, the corner of his lips pointing upwards. 

“are you hungry?” he asked, a cute downward smile on his lips. you nodded slowly, a shy smile on your lips. gyuvin then got up, sitting down next to you. 

“how about we go down to the convenience store and get some ramen and snacks?” he suggested, a mischievous smile on his lips. 

“you go. i don’t wanna get up,” you whined, leaning against his shoulder.

“come on! you know i can’t do anything without you. plus, you’ll have so much more fun with me than alone here with your tv,” he grinned, standing up in front of you.

“alright, kim kwaja. let’s go,” you sighed, giving him your hand to pull you up. 

you walked along the street, your arm locked in gyuvin’s. 

“i’m so cold,” you grumbled, snuggling into gyuvin’s chest. “i should’ve just stayed inside.” gyuvin giggled at how cute you looked, all grumpy and annoyed. he took your hands in his, warming them up with friction and placing a kiss on the back of your hands before putting them in his pocket. your cheeks heated up at the sweet act. 

“better?” his voice asked, lovingly.

“yeah,” you muttered, cheesing to yourself. 

“see. how can you live without me?” 

gunwook:

he gets jealous

gunwook’s biggest pride is you. so when he feels like that is being challenged, he tends to get a little irritated. however, he never makes it your problem because he understands that you’re such a charming person that it’s only natural for others to flirt with you. that doesn’t stop him from feeling a little jealous on the inside, though. he’s not usually a confrontational guy, gunwook is such a cutie, especially for you. but when he feels threatened, he tends to puff up his chest and pretend he’s all cool and mighty. you think its the cutest thing in the world. 

gunwook had taken you on a date to the amusement park. you’d been nagging gunwook for forever to go and he’d finally complied.  after going on all the rides you wanted to go to at least three times, you were both so tired. 

“how about we go get something to eat?” gunwook offered, squeezing your hand in his. you nodded enthusiastically. 

“how about we get some churros? ooh, and a milkshake?” you you asked, giving gunwook those puppy eyes that always worked on him. 

“yeah, yeah, alright. let’s go,” he said, melting completely. 

“ooh!” you gasped as you saw a couple wearing matching headbands. gunwook noticed the way your eyes lit up and immediately knew. 

“ok, you go get the food and i’ll go get us some cute headbands,” he said with a low chuckle. you giggled, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek before heading to get the food.  as you approached the food booth, you noticed a familiar face. your childhood friend, jungwon, was standing in line. as soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up.

“y/n!” he yelled, waving you over. “it’s been so long,” he said as he embraced you in a hug. as you got your food, you engaged in a long and enthusiastic conversation with him.

when gunwook arrived, wearing pink bunny ears and holding another pair in his hand, he didn’t like the view. he didn’t like the way jungwon was looking at you, or the way he kept touching your shoulder when he talked to you. he sped up walking to you and surprised you by wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“oh! hi, gunwook. this is jungwon,” you said, smiling. 

“hi. i’m her boyfriend, gunwook. nice to meet you,” he said with an unusually deep voice, placing the bunny ears on your head before shaking jungwon’s hand without cracking a smile.

“well, nice to meet you too! i'll get going y/n. it was nice to see you,” jungwon said, giving you a pat on the shoulder before walking away. you smiled at him, then turned towards gunwook. 

“you didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you scolded him.

“i just didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he pouted, wrapping his arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck. 

“you’re just the cutest, aren’t you?” you whisper.

yujin

he’s always blowing up your phone

yujin will literally relate anything he sees to you. because of that he’s always sending you pictures of things that remind him of you, or tiktoks, or memes that will make you laugh. he just sees you in every little thing and wants you to know. when you get home from school, you go straight to your phone to watch all the tiktoks yujin’s sent you and one by one respond to them. he’s also the type of boyfriend that would call you in the middle of a school day. he’d be obsessed with you.

you were able to sneak into the bathroom during math class, since you knew he wouldn’t notice you were gone. you quickly entered the bathroom stall in the far left, and rang your boyfriend. he immediately picked up.

“hi,” he said, all giggly. your cheeks warmed at the sound of his voice. 

“hey yujinnie,” you replied, warmly. “how’s your day been?” 

“i haven’t seen your face yet, so not that good,” he complained. you laughed lightly, but enough to make yujin smile. “it’s not fair that i don’t get to see you laugh with my own two eyes right now.”

“don’t be so whiny, yujin. here, i’ll turn on my camera,” you gave in. you turned on your camera, your smiling face being the first thing yujin saw. he gasped.

“what is this golden light that’s blinding my eyes? is it a goddess? an angel? oh wait it’s just y/n’s beauty” he announced dramatically. you chuckled, shaking your head.

“hey! now you turn on your camera!” you whined.

“alright, alright,” he complied. instantly, his face filled the screen. you gawked at how beautiful he look under the horrible bathroom lighting. his hair slightly fluffy, and a few strands falling over his eyes. he looked so cute it made you mad. 

“you’re alright,” you shrugged. 

“after i just compared you to a goddess? just ‘alright’?” he frowned jokingly.

“okay! i guess you’re pretty handsome,” you mutter. 

“i’ll take it!”

“sooo, do you wanna go to the movies after school? there’s this really good horror movie i wanna watch!” you suggested.

“sounds good, i’ll meet you there at three? maybe we can grab something to eat beforehand.”

“okay. i’ll see you later!” you said, sending him a kiss through the screen. he grabbed it in the air, holding it against his heart. 

“see you later, y/n.” you thought you saw a semblance of pink on his cheeks before the call ended.

[hami-gua]

永别了，亲爱的 Farewell, My Beloved

Long overdue since Qingming has long since pass (oops).

Blade x gn! Reader

Takes place in game — not canon though

Warning: Chinese is used (English translation provided), angst hurt no comfort (first time writing this angsty)

Please read to the end for credits and reference.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━

Shoes echoes through the barren halls. The figure moves through the doorway, his steps slow. And then he stops. Right in front of the wall of name plaques. His red eyes scanned the whole wall, searching for a particular name and walking to it right as he spots it. He carefully pulls out a clean cloth — and with care, wiped down the plaque. It didn’t need to be cleaned, as workers everyday made sure all plaques are cleaned out of respect. Once he was done, he placed the bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of it then sits down.

The figure couldn’t help but think of their death. Of the three that had to pay a price, he alone had to pay the biggest. He made a promise to them and he broke it. The what ifs began to speed through his head. He’s died once, and he wants to die again. He wishes he can be with them in the afterlife. That is, if Mengpo doesn’t make him drink her soup. Not that he could see them anyway. Not after what he’s done.

He places two cups and pulls out a jar of wine. After filling both cups, he took his and raised it — drinking it all after.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said to them, “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

He wants to apologize but no matter what he says, he knows no explanation could cut it. It was his error in action. In emotion. There was no way words can express his regrets.

“我与你的记忆损乱了，“ a tear slips from his eye, “你长得什么样，我也记不了了。我也记不住你的声音了。我只能记得你的名字，但也记不了多久了。“ [Memories of me and you have been messed up… The way that you looked, I cannot remember. I also cannot remember your voice. I only remember your name, but I cannot remember that for long either.]

The figure sat in silence for a bit before starting once more, “当年，如果不是我，也不是丹枫的话，你今日该会是什么样了？你还会像以前一样跟景元玩象棋吗？跟丹枫看书？跟镜流和白珩逛街？或者跟我练功？” he drank another cup full of wine, “可惜，三个付出代价去了，一个早已离去，最后一个孤独的留在了罗浮。不知你和白珩有没有相遇。我想是。我们当时挣扎了好久，现在平安多了。你若在的话，肯定会喜欢现在罗浮的环境。“ [That year, if it wasn’t for me, and Dan Feng, what would you have been like today? Would it be like it was then, with you playing xiangqi with Jing Yuan? Reading with Dan Heng? Shopping with Jing Liu and Baiheng? Or would you have been sparring with me? …. Sadly, three paid a price, one has departed, and the last one is left lonely on Luofu. I don’t know if you and Baiheng have caught up. I’d like to think you guys did. Our time was so messy, but Luofu today is much peaceful. If you were here, you’d definitely like Luofu today.]

Amidst his rambling, another figure approached. She stood right behind him, gazing up on the plaque.

“It’s time you wrap it up, Bladie.”

Blade hummed in acknowledgment, “Just a little more time.”

The lady stared at him a bit longer before sighing and heading out, saying she’ll be waiting for him at the entrance. After he was sure he was alone again, he spoke softly.

“是时候该走了。如果我没有捅你一刀，你今天应该还会在吧。对不起，这是我最后一次能看你了。仙舟没有我的地方了。在这个人生里，可能再也不会有人像你一样叫我的名字了。我永远也不可能是应星了。” [It’s time I should get going. If I didn’t stab you that day, you would probably still be here. I’m sorry, this is my last time seeing you. There’s no longer a place for me on Xianzhou. In this life, there will be no one to say my name the way you do. And I will never be able to be Yingxing anymore.]

Blade gets up and places the jar of wine next to the filled cup. After, he bows to the name plaque three times. Then, he turns and walks out of the room — leaving Luofu till his death arrives.

永别了。。。[Farewell…]

亲爱的。[My beloved.]

─── ∙ ↤THE END↦ ∙ ─---

I've been thinking, should I make banners specifically for the characters I write? Or would that be too much? Cuz right now, I can't decide on a banner for each story.

Qingming 清明: Called Tomb-Sweeping day in the west. People visit the graves of their deceased love ones. Even going as far as cleaning and retouching graves. It’s customary to offer food and wine (or other beverages they loved).

White Chrysanthemums: White flowers, mainly white chrysanthemums are placed during funeral and the dead. Don’t gift these to people please (unless you desperately wish for that person to perish).

Mengpo 孟婆: A deity in the underworld that gives passing souls her specialty called 孟婆汤 (mengpo soup) that would wipe their memories for their journey in their next life.

Bowing three times: I was taught this at a young age, but when bowing to gods and ancestors, you bow three times. Usually it’s very quick, but I like to take it slow (cuz I think it shows deeper respect).

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to thoughtfully respond to these anon messages. I work in dc w a fairly wonky set and i cant overstate how haunted the DC Professional Thought Havers are by the spectre of the "low propensity voter." I think these ppl (myself included LOL) thought we had everything figured out ahead of the 2016 elections and then never recovered from the way it ended up going......i feel like in all the years that followed.....the liberal bubbles.....the coastal elites.......the hillbilly elegies......the real america....the ohio diners....the pennsylvania diners.......the polls......the 2020 horserace....while part of an earnest attempt to understand What Happened, were primarily self-indulgent, self-flagellation for being "out of touch" bc of a self-diagnosed "elite" status that then turned into ANOTHER myopic view of the world, just opposite, where the "libs" are hapless and everyone else remotely to the left are primarily victims to the unstoppable supernatural forces of the Right. Then in 2020 the narrative flipped AGAIN and once again, instead of taking the opportunity to expand a worldview and having the bravery to confront their own shortcomings, the opinion havers and wonks and beltway pressers have decided to groupthink their way into writing off democracy altogether. Its BEYOND frustrating to see! Like damn volunteer at a soup kitchen or smthn instead of being obsessed w the fact that i vote lol

Yes, and there are several reasons for that. First, despite all the factors that contributed to Trump's shock win in 2016 (anti-Clintonism, white backlash to Obama, general low voter enthusiasm, Russian disinformation, etc) we should never forget that until James Comey decided to announce 10 days before the election that he was reopening the EEEEEEEMAILS case, even though we all knew there was nothing there, she was leading fairly comfortably in the polls. And while we will never know how the 2016 election would have gone without that, which imho was one of the most unforgivable acts of blatant sabotage by a public official in American history, it's also true that we saw her poll averages start sliding almost in real time, as people who hadn't really been keen on voting for her anyway decided firmly not to and Trump was able to scrape out 16,000 votes across PA, MI, and WI to take the Electoral College. Which... we all remember how we felt that night, right? (Or in my case, early morning, since I was overseas?) We don't, we really, really don't want to feel that way again. Just saying.

As such, the media (which had already beat up Clinton nonstop during the BUT HER EEEEEMAILS saga) drastically overcorrected and as you say, began writing endless angsty handwringing pieces about Trump Voters in Rural Ohio Diners and giving endless sympathetic airtime to how "economically left behind" they felt, regardless of the fact that open racism, especially Obama backlash, was and remains the principal animating feature of Republican politics (since their only economic platform is that which makes very rich people even richer and Democratic economic policies are the only ones actually targeted at helping ordinary people). The hangover was so strong that even when Democrats had a massive 2018 midterm result and flipped the House blue for the first time since the post-ACA backlash lost it in 2010, the Conventional Wisdom was now beyond any doubt that Democrats were doomed for a generation or something, and not that Trump had squeaked out a fluky win (while losing the popular vote) due to endless Russian/Comey/third party-etc interference and wasn't actually that powerful. Even in 2020 when Biden was leading fairly steadily and things were going to hell with Covid, etc. etc. TRUMP IS UNSTOPPABLE, TRUMP IS GOING TO WIN.

(And now. Like. I know Trump thinks Trump won in 2020, as do a large majority of his cultists, but that doesn't mean he did.)

Even after that, when Roe went down in 2022, that made no difference to the RED WAVE COMING!!! narrative, and the amount of smug white male pundits insisting that abortion just wasn't very important and people weren't going to base their entire vote on it reached truly disgusting levels. We're now seeing the same thing with the constant "people won't vote for democracy and/or abortion rights" blast, when as you say, this narrative has just been completely made the fuck up by a lot of groupthinking DC media who are determined that this time, Trump really is going to win and then they get to be principled chroniclers in opposition or something. Not to mention, the basic principle of "democracy and abortion rights are good" do in fact win by thumping margins every time they're on the ballot, including in deep red states. But there is literally not a single piece of empirical evidence despite the massive amounts of it supporting the truth (i.e. that Democrats are doing historically well in competitive elections since 2018 and there's not really a major reason to think this will change in 2024) that will get the media to change the "Democrats in disarray and Biden Iz Doomed" horserace BS they so love. They don't like Biden because he's boring and competent and just does the job without being insane, because it's totally a great idea to treat American government like a reality show! (Recall the infamous comment by the CBS CEO who literally said that Trump was bad for America but great for CBS, because he pulled in high ratings and therefore lots of money and visibility for CBS. We live in the worst timeline.)

As such, the mainstream media has a vendetta against Biden, is determined that this time Trump is super definitely going to win and everyone will see how genius they are, and not-so-secretly wants Trump back because a) he's good for money and ratings, and b) because the media conglomerations are owned by oligarchs who have a vested interest in making sure that Democrats and their policies never get too popular. Notice how the once self-proclaimed centrist independent Elon Musk has turned into a rabidly alt-right fanboy ever since the Democrats really got serious about taxing billionaires as a key part of their platform. Likewise, insisting that Biden Iz Doomed makes Democrats nervous (and thus more likely to tune in) and Republicans gleeful (and thus more likely to tune in), so there's literally no incentive for the media to even try to report things accurately. You could create a very different narrative of the 2024 election if you just remotely bothered to write about things that have actually happened as they have actually taken place, rather than bending over backward to insist that Biden being four years older than Trump is a worse crime than 91 felony indictments, 2 impeachments, 1 insurrection, 450 million dollars and counting in punitive jury verdicts, more major criminal trials coming down the pipe, and just demonstrably being the worst human being alive in so many ways. I mean. Wow.

The good news, as I said in my other post, is that when people actually vote, these utter bullshit narratives get routinely blown out of the water, and that's a good thing. Because it turns out that unlike Super Smart Beltway Pundits' Super Smart Predictions, the average American does actually like democracy and freedom for women to make their own personal healthcare decisions, and they vote accordingly. So while yes, it's being made harrowingly much harder than it needs to be because of how much the media simply refuses to report that basic fact, and there is no amount of evidence that will convince them otherwise, at least we're trending in the right direction and, if we all pull our weight, can do it one more time. I realized the other day that I hadn't heard a fucking peep about Ron DeSantis in the last two months, and oh, how glorious it was. I yearn beyond words for the day (God willing, soon) when the same is true of Trump as well.