florawrites-blog

[florawrites-blog]

[florawrites-blog]

sick to death of everyone being rail thin and wearing their hair in a slicked back bun. this summer and forever i'm all about big thighs big boobs big butts and perhaps most importantly big hair

[florawrites-blog]

say hello to the new white boy of the month

[florawrites-blog]

Yelena in Thunderbolts*:

And honestly, same.

[florawrites-blog]

The clouds sagged low, bruised and heavy, like they were grieving too.

The world around you was soaked in a quiet ache, the kind that made even the air taste metallic.

You stood there, shivering not from the cold — but from the war raging inside you.

Jay was already waiting.

Of course he was.

He always knew when something was wrong — like he had been carved from the same aching bone as you.

He saw it days ago, in the way you stopped laughing, in the way your hands shook when they thought no one was looking.

Now he stood across from you, the distance between your bodies a canyon neither of you had the strength to cross.

His voice cracked the silence like a whip:

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this anymore.”

You swallowed — God, you tried — but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth.

“I—I can’t,” you croaked, your voice barely human.

“Y/N, look at me,” he begged, stepping closer.

You tried — you really did — but some unseen chain yanked your head down, shame stitching your lips shut.

He reached for your jaw, desperate to hold you still, desperate to anchor you to him,

but you twisted away, crumbling under the weight of your own betrayal.

“Jay, please—don’t make this harder than it already is,” you whispered, so fragile he almost didn’t hear you.

He let out a broken, bitter laugh, running his hands through his soaked hair.

“Yeah, Y/N. Sure. But you sure as hell can stand here and spit out these lies you don’t believe, right?”

You said nothing.

The silence was heavier than any scream.

Jay scoffed, taking a step back.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice sharp with heartbreak.

“Have it your way. I’m leaving. I can’t— I can’t do this. Not today.”

He turned away, and right on cue, the sky tore itself open.

The rain poured, drenching the world in sorrow, clinging to your clothes, your hair, your skin, like tiny knives.

You stayed frozen, every raindrop digging deeper into your bones, but still you didn’t look at him.

Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Jay walked slowly — so damn slow — like he was hoping, begging, praying you would call out.

That you would fight for him.

But you didn’t.

You stood there, a statue carved out of grief.

It wasn’t until his own chest cracked wide open that he turned back, storming to you with a look so desperate it nearly broke the sky again.

His hands, trembling, gripped your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Y/N. Please. Say something. Anything. Why are you just standing there?!”

He was soaked, shaking, breaking right in front of you.

Still, nothing.

Just you biting your lip so hard you tasted blood.

Wishing you could chew your mouth right off your own face — anything to not speak the truth.

Jay saw it — the way your lip split open — and with shaking hands, he cupped your face, trying to wipe the blood away, trying to shield you even now, even from yourself.

The second his skin touched yours, you collapsed.

Your knees buckled like the earth had finally given up, but before you could hit the ground, Jay caught you, dropping with you into the mud, your bodies crashing into each other like two broken waves.

His arms formed a cage around you, his knees under yours, holding you like the world was ending — because for you both, it was.

And then you shattered.

You sobbed so violently you thought you might tear your own lungs apart.

“It’s your fault,” you screamed into his chest, pounding your fists against him with all the strength your hollow heart had left.

“You made me love you! I wasn’t supposed to! I wasn’t supposed to!”

Jay didn’t move.

He just let you break against him.

Took every hit, every sob, every word like he deserved it — because to him, he did.

Because he would’ve rather been broken by you than whole without you.

You tried to push away.

You tried to run.

But every time you moved, you ended up right back in his arms, clawing for him, sobbing for him, needing him like he was the last breath you would ever take.

The rain blurred everything — the trees, the sky, the pain — but you and Jay, you were carved sharp and clear against it all.

Two wreckages bound together, clinging to a love you were never supposed to find, never supposed to need.

And yet here you were, drowning in it.

Neither of you spoke again.

There was nothing left to say.

Only the rain, and the broken, beautiful mess you had become in each other’s arms.

[florawrites-blog]

The clouds sagged low, bruised and heavy, like they were grieving too.

The world around you was soaked in a quiet ache, the kind that made even the air taste metallic.

You stood there, shivering not from the cold — but from the war raging inside you.

Jay was already waiting.

Of course he was.

He always knew when something was wrong — like he had been carved from the same aching bone as you.

He saw it days ago, in the way you stopped laughing, in the way your hands shook when they thought no one was looking.

Now he stood across from you, the distance between your bodies a canyon neither of you had the strength to cross.

His voice cracked the silence like a whip:

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this anymore.”

You swallowed — God, you tried — but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth.

“I—I can’t,” you croaked, your voice barely human.

“Y/N, look at me,” he begged, stepping closer.

You tried — you really did — but some unseen chain yanked your head down, shame stitching your lips shut.

He reached for your jaw, desperate to hold you still, desperate to anchor you to him,

but you twisted away, crumbling under the weight of your own betrayal.

“Jay, please—don’t make this harder than it already is,” you whispered, so fragile he almost didn’t hear you.

He let out a broken, bitter laugh, running his hands through his soaked hair.

“Yeah, Y/N. Sure. But you sure as hell can stand here and spit out these lies you don’t believe, right?”

You said nothing.

The silence was heavier than any scream.

Jay scoffed, taking a step back.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice sharp with heartbreak.

“Have it your way. I’m leaving. I can’t— I can’t do this. Not today.”

He turned away, and right on cue, the sky tore itself open.

The rain poured, drenching the world in sorrow, clinging to your clothes, your hair, your skin, like tiny knives.

You stayed frozen, every raindrop digging deeper into your bones, but still you didn’t look at him.

Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Jay walked slowly — so damn slow — like he was hoping, begging, praying you would call out.

That you would fight for him.

But you didn’t.

You stood there, a statue carved out of grief.

It wasn’t until his own chest cracked wide open that he turned back, storming to you with a look so desperate it nearly broke the sky again.

His hands, trembling, gripped your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Y/N. Please. Say something. Anything. Why are you just standing there?!”

He was soaked, shaking, breaking right in front of you.

Still, nothing.

Just you biting your lip so hard you tasted blood.

Wishing you could chew your mouth right off your own face — anything to not speak the truth.

Jay saw it — the way your lip split open — and with shaking hands, he cupped your face, trying to wipe the blood away, trying to shield you even now, even from yourself.

The second his skin touched yours, you collapsed.

Your knees buckled like the earth had finally given up, but before you could hit the ground, Jay caught you, dropping with you into the mud, your bodies crashing into each other like two broken waves.

His arms formed a cage around you, his knees under yours, holding you like the world was ending — because for you both, it was.

And then you shattered.

You sobbed so violently you thought you might tear your own lungs apart.

“It’s your fault,” you screamed into his chest, pounding your fists against him with all the strength your hollow heart had left.

“You made me love you! I wasn’t supposed to! I wasn’t supposed to!”

Jay didn’t move.

He just let you break against him.

Took every hit, every sob, every word like he deserved it — because to him, he did.

Because he would’ve rather been broken by you than whole without you.

You tried to push away.

You tried to run.

But every time you moved, you ended up right back in his arms, clawing for him, sobbing for him, needing him like he was the last breath you would ever take.

The rain blurred everything — the trees, the sky, the pain — but you and Jay, you were carved sharp and clear against it all.

Two wreckages bound together, clinging to a love you were never supposed to find, never supposed to need.

And yet here you were, drowning in it.

Neither of you spoke again.

There was nothing left to say.

Only the rain, and the broken, beautiful mess you had become in each other’s arms.

[florawrites-blog]

The clouds sagged low, bruised and heavy, like they were grieving too.

The world around you was soaked in a quiet ache, the kind that made even the air taste metallic.

You stood there, shivering not from the cold — but from the war raging inside you.

Jay was already waiting.

Of course he was.

He always knew when something was wrong — like he had been carved from the same aching bone as you.

He saw it days ago, in the way you stopped laughing, in the way your hands shook when they thought no one was looking.

Now he stood across from you, the distance between your bodies a canyon neither of you had the strength to cross.

His voice cracked the silence like a whip:

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this anymore.”

You swallowed — God, you tried — but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth.

“I—I can’t,” you croaked, your voice barely human.

“Y/N, look at me,” he begged, stepping closer.

You tried — you really did — but some unseen chain yanked your head down, shame stitching your lips shut.

He reached for your jaw, desperate to hold you still, desperate to anchor you to him,

but you twisted away, crumbling under the weight of your own betrayal.

“Jay, please—don’t make this harder than it already is,” you whispered, so fragile he almost didn’t hear you.

He let out a broken, bitter laugh, running his hands through his soaked hair.

“Yeah, Y/N. Sure. But you sure as hell can stand here and spit out these lies you don’t believe, right?”

You said nothing.

The silence was heavier than any scream.

Jay scoffed, taking a step back.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice sharp with heartbreak.

“Have it your way. I’m leaving. I can’t— I can’t do this. Not today.”

He turned away, and right on cue, the sky tore itself open.

The rain poured, drenching the world in sorrow, clinging to your clothes, your hair, your skin, like tiny knives.

You stayed frozen, every raindrop digging deeper into your bones, but still you didn’t look at him.

Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Jay walked slowly — so damn slow — like he was hoping, begging, praying you would call out.

That you would fight for him.

But you didn’t.

You stood there, a statue carved out of grief.

It wasn’t until his own chest cracked wide open that he turned back, storming to you with a look so desperate it nearly broke the sky again.

His hands, trembling, gripped your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Y/N. Please. Say something. Anything. Why are you just standing there?!”

He was soaked, shaking, breaking right in front of you.

Still, nothing.

Just you biting your lip so hard you tasted blood.

Wishing you could chew your mouth right off your own face — anything to not speak the truth.

Jay saw it — the way your lip split open — and with shaking hands, he cupped your face, trying to wipe the blood away, trying to shield you even now, even from yourself.

The second his skin touched yours, you collapsed.

Your knees buckled like the earth had finally given up, but before you could hit the ground, Jay caught you, dropping with you into the mud, your bodies crashing into each other like two broken waves.

His arms formed a cage around you, his knees under yours, holding you like the world was ending — because for you both, it was.

And then you shattered.

You sobbed so violently you thought you might tear your own lungs apart.

“It’s your fault,” you screamed into his chest, pounding your fists against him with all the strength your hollow heart had left.

“You made me love you! I wasn’t supposed to! I wasn’t supposed to!”

Jay didn’t move.

He just let you break against him.

Took every hit, every sob, every word like he deserved it — because to him, he did.

Because he would’ve rather been broken by you than whole without you.

You tried to push away.

You tried to run.

But every time you moved, you ended up right back in his arms, clawing for him, sobbing for him, needing him like he was the last breath you would ever take.

The rain blurred everything — the trees, the sky, the pain — but you and Jay, you were carved sharp and clear against it all.

Two wreckages bound together, clinging to a love you were never supposed to find, never supposed to need.

And yet here you were, drowning in it.

Neither of you spoke again.

There was nothing left to say.

Only the rain, and the broken, beautiful mess you had become in each other’s arms.

[florawrites-blog]

Ghost of the Past The night was suffocating. Not with heat, but with the kind of silence that swallowed sound, stretching every breath into something deafening. The abandoned warehouse loomed ahead, its broken windows barely catching the pale light of the moon, casting eerie shadows against the cracked pavement.

San had spent the last three years chasing ghosts—tracking trails that had long since gone cold, looking for answers that refused to reveal themselves. He had followed lead after lead, but every path ended in the same cruel reality.

You were gone.

Taken.

And now, after all this time, the search had brought him here.

His grip on the gun tightened, the flashlight in his other hand cutting through the darkness as he stepped forward, his vest pressing firm against his chest. His team was close behind, but he barely heard them.

Then—movement.

A whisper of air. A shift in the shadows.

And before he could react, a figure dropped from above.

San barely had time to raise his weapon before the attacker crashed into him, sending them both to the ground. His gun slid across the concrete with a sharp clatter. He struggled to get the upper hand, but whoever this was—they were fast. Strong. Their blows were precise, ruthless, every move calculated to incapacitate.

But San wasn’t weak either.

He fought back, flipping them over with sheer force, pinning them down beneath him. His hand locked around their wrists, forcing them still. But then—

Something familiar.

The way they moved. The way they breathed.

And when his fingers brushed against their skin, his chest tightened.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Heart pounding, he reached forward, gripping the edge of their mask. The moment he ripped it away, the air left his lungs.

His world—his entire reality—shattered.

It was you.

San went still, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch you, afraid to break the illusion in front of him.

You.

The person who had once stood beside him in every mission, the person he had fought for, protected, loved.

The same person he had lost.

“Y/N…?” His voice was barely a whisper, fragile, uncertain.

But the way you looked at him—cold, unrecognizing—made something inside him snap.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t flinch. You only stared, your expression unreadable.

And then, in one swift motion, you struck.

San barely reacted in time, his grip tightening as he twisted your wrist, forcing the hidden knife from your fingers before you could drive it into his side. The struggle sent both of you tumbling again, but this time, he was faster.

Before you could escape, before you could strike again, he had you pinned beneath him. One hand locked around both of your wrists, the other pressing against the ground beside your head. His breath was ragged, his body shaking from more than just the fight.

The warehouse doors burst open as his team flooded in, weapons raised, voices shouting commands. Within seconds, they had you restrained, pulling you away from him.

San didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

He could only stare, watching you stand between two armed agents, your posture eerily relaxed, as if none of this mattered.

Three years.

Three years of searching, of hoping, of aching.

And now, here you were—alive, breathing—but not you.

“You’re alive.” His voice cracked.

You tilted your head slightly, as if considering his words. And then, in a tone so unfamiliar, so empty, you finally spoke.

“Who is Y/N?”

San’s blood ran cold.

His body, still tense from the fight, suddenly felt weak. Like something inside him had been yanked away, leaving him hollow.

No.

No, this wasn’t happening.

His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms as he took a shaky step forward. “Don’t do this,” he whispered. “Don’t—don’t pretend.”

Silence.

The team was waiting for orders, but San barely heard them. His pulse roared in his ears, his mind screaming at him to wake up from whatever nightmare this was.

“You killed him.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them.

The air shifted.

The warehouse felt smaller, the weight of his own words pressing down on him like iron chains.

Yunho.

Yunho, who had been his closest friend, his partner—the one who always had his back.

Yunho, who had died.

And the one responsible…

San swallowed hard, his throat burning.

It had led to you.

You had attacked him. You had moved like an enemy. You had looked at him like an enemy.

So was it really you?

Or were you just a ghost—someone wearing your face, someone he had failed to protect?

But no matter how much logic screamed at him, no matter how much evidence pointed to the truth, San’s heart refused to believe it.

Because he remembered.

He remembered you.

The way your laughter used to echo in his ears after a successful mission. The way your hands would find his in the quiet moments, fingers brushing softly against his palm. The way you had once leaned into him, trusting, warm, his.

A memory surged forward—one so vivid, so visceral, it almost knocked the breath out of him.

It had been late at night, long after a mission had ended. You were standing by the window of your shared safehouse, looking out at the city below. San had approached quietly, his large frame moving behind yours before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest.

“You did well today,” he had murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You had smiled, leaning back into his embrace, your hands resting over his. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

He had nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in, letting the moment stretch, as if holding onto you like that could keep time from slipping away.

And now—

Now, he stood here, staring at a version of you who didn’t know him.

Who didn’t remember.

Who might have been the one to take his best friend’s life.

His heart twisted painfully.

“Take them in,” one of the agents finally commanded. “We need answers.”

San watched as you were dragged away, your eyes lingering on him for just a second—just long enough to make him wonder.

Was it really all gone?

Or was there still something left of you buried beneath the surface?

And if there was…

Could he bring you back?

[florawrites-blog]

For the first time in years, Jungwon had the chance to spend his birthday indoors. No grand celebrations, just peace and quiet. At 21, he figured he deserved a real break, especially with you away, caught up in your own demanding schedule.

Draped in loose plaid pajamas, he lounged on the couch, the silence of the dorm lulling him into a drowsy haze. But as his eyelids drooped, the doorbell rang—once, twice, then multiple times. He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck before sluggishly slipping on his slippers. Since he was the only one off-duty today, he assumed it was one of his members who had forgotten their keys.

With a tired sigh, he pulled open the door—only to be met with an impact that nearly knocked him off balance.

"Y/N—?!" His breath hitched as you launched into his arms, holding onto him as if you’d never let go. "Wait, what? How are you—?"

His words were cut off by the flurry of kisses you peppered across his face—21 in total. The last one, placed on his lips, was too fleeting for his liking, so he seized the moment. Without hesitation, he pulled you in deeper, his hands securing you in place as he kicked the door shut behind him.

Your arms curled around his neck, fingers threading through his hair, while his strong grip lifted you slightly, pressing you against the nearest wall. The kiss grew deeper, breathless, urgent—until, in your eagerness, you lost your balance.

With a startled gasp, the two of you tumbled onto the floor, tangled together in a mess of laughter.

"Happy birthday, baby," you whispered, brushing back his outgrown bangs.

Jungwon’s grin stretched from ear to ear, his heart swelling at the mere sight of you. "This is the best birthday gift ever."

You gasped suddenly. "Oh no—your actual surprise! I left it outside!"

His brows raised in amusement. "Oh? Did my beautiful girlfriend get me a present?" He teased, his doe eyes twinkling with playful curiosity.

"Of course, your beautiful gorgeous girlfriend did," you huffed dramatically, before slipping out of his hold to retrieve it.

To his utter shock, you had spent an entire month learning how to bake and decorate a cake—just for him. When you unveiled it, his eyes softened. The design mirrored the very park bench where you had once shared a deep conversation, a moment so precious to him that no words could ever do it justice. Instead, he spun you around in delight, overcome with gratitude.

"You really flew 14 hours just to be here?" he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

You nodded, smiling. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

The rest of the night unfolded in pure bliss—dancing, singing along to Disney songs, even braiding his hair as he chuckled at your determination. The other members eventually returned, joining in to enjoy the cake you had poured your heart into.

But as the evening stretched into the early hours, exhaustion crept in. Nestled together on the couch, your limbs intertwined like koalas, Jungwon held you close, cherishing every second he had with you.

Even if you could only stay until morning, this—being with you—was all he needed.

[florawrites-blog]

love bites

It all started with his dimples.

Jungwon had been chatting away, his voice soft and rhythmic, but you weren’t paying attention—not to his words, at least. Your focus had zeroed in on the way his dimples effortlessly appeared with each syllable, charmingly etched into his cheeks like little craters of pure perfection.

He noticed the shift instantly. The way your eyes glossed over, pupils dilating like a predator locked onto its prey. He stopped mid-sentence, tilting his head, not even confused—just purely intrigued.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he murmured, studying your expression.

But before he could get an answer, before even you could register your next move—chomp.

His breath hitched, body freezing as your teeth latched onto his cheek. For the first few seconds, he simply sat there, stunned, trying to process what in the world had just happened. But then—your teeth sunk in deeper.

"Y/N—what is this behavior?!" He burst into laughter, instinctively pulling you away with the gentlest grip, making sure not to hurt you. His dimpled cheek now bore the mark of your adoration.

Meanwhile, you? You were a wreck. Tears brimmed in your eyes from sheer overwhelmed emotion, hands gripping your own head as you dramatically collapsed onto the couch.

"JUNGWON, I CANNOT! YOU'RE TOO CUTE, I CAN'T DO THIS—AHHHHHHH!" You shrieked before bolting out of the room, leaving him to dissolve into another fit of laughter.

And that? That was the moment your habit started.

At first, Jungwon thought it was a one-time thing. A burst of chaotic affection, never to be repeated. But oh, how wrong he was. It became a pattern—whenever his dimples made an appearance, you attacked. His cheeks, his shoulders, sometimes even his hands if they looked too soft for their own good.

And what baffled him most? He secretly loved it.

There were moments he wouldn’t even try to hide it. Sometimes, he’d casually lean in a little closer, purposefully puffing out his cheeks just to trigger your cuteness aggression. He’d sigh dramatically, feigning innocence.

"Oh no, Y/N, my poor defenseless cheeks are right here, what ever will you do?"

And of course, you’d fall for it every single time.

[florawrites-blog]

6 a.m. Sharp.

Your first shift at the coffee shop. You were nervous—scratch that, you were a trembling mess. The weight of responsibility, the unfamiliar register, and the caffeine-deprived customers who definitely weren’t going to be patient with you—it was all too much.

And then he walked in.

A tall stranger, draped in an oversized hoodie, mask concealing most of his face, except for those boba-like eyes peeking from behind his blondish bangs. Broad shoulders, a relaxed yet purposeful stride—he was the kind of person who carried an air of effortless coolness.

Your stomach sank. Oh no. Not an attractive customer. Not at 6 a.m.

You already knew. You just knew you were going to mess up.

As if the universe wanted to prove you right, the moment he stepped closer to the counter, pulling down his mask to reveal a dazzling smile—dimples and all—your brain completely short-circuited.

He hadn’t even spoken yet, and you were already doomed.

"Yes, I can serve you. Let me serve you forever, please."

The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

Jungwon blinked. “I—”

Your soul left your body. “Um—I mean, oh! What can I ser—sorry, sir. Um. I think my shift just ended.”

"...But you just opened?"

“No, no, actually, we’re closing. Good day, goodbye—oh my god, please don’t go, I want you—I MEAN—nope! Yep! I’m going.”

Your hands slammed down on the counter as you internally screamed, your body already moving to escape this humiliation.

"Wait—"

But before he could say another word, you yanked off your apron, shoved it toward him, and declared in full-blown panic, "You know what? Here. Take this. Make your own drink. I’m gone."

And just like that, you ran.

Jungwon stood frozen in place, blinking in pure disbelief. The only sign that he hadn’t hallucinated the entire ordeal was the apron now resting in his hands.

After a solid moment of processing, he let out a breathless chuckle, dimples deepening as he shook his head in amusement.

And from that day on, every single morning, he returned—same time, same order, same hope that he’d catch another glimpse of you.

But you? Oh, you were prepared. You hid behind coworkers, ducked behind counters, and strategically planned every possible escape route to avoid another incident.

And yet—every time, without fail—he showed up anyway.

[florawrites-blog]

Boyfriend!jungwon whom lets you almost crawl into his skin....

It had been too long since you last saw Jungwon. And by too long, you meant an absolutely unbearable amount of time that made you feel like a hollow shell of a person. FaceTime and texts were not enough. You needed him. Needed to see him, touch him, breathe him in, or you were about to start doing backflips and rolling on the floor like a child who had their favorite toy stolen.

So, when you stepped into your apartment, exhausted and ready to wallow in your deprivation, something changed.

A scent—his scent. Familiar, warm, and so distinctly Jungwon that your entire body shut down for a second. The air suddenly felt different, thicker with something real. Your heart stopped. Then started again—twice as fast.

There was no way you were hallucinating. No way.

You bolted.

Practically tearing through your own home, you searched desperately, heart pounding, and then—there he was.

Sprawled lazily on the couch, back resting against the cushions, a Nintendo Switch in his hands, completely oblivious to the storm that was you.

He barely had time to react before—

Boom.

Your full weight came crashing down on him, knocking the air out of his lungs as you buried yourself into his neck, inhaling deeply like a woman starved.

Jungwon immediately broke into laughter, his entire body shaking beneath you. "Y/N, please—" his words barely came out through the giggles, his hands instinctively grabbing onto you.

You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. You just nuzzled in deeper, mumbling into his skin, "I’m not fcking Jeremy Fragrance, but I can tell you—you smell like mine."

His laughter doubled. "What does that even mean?!"

You didn’t explain. Instead, you gripped onto him tighter, as if trying to absorb him, hoping that somehow, someway, you could just fuse together and never part again.

Realizing you weren’t about to let go anytime soon, Jungwon sighed—happily. Adjusting his position, he stood up effortlessly, but you? You stayed latched on like a koala, your limbs locked around him.

He didn’t even question it. He didn’t even try to make you let go.

Because, truth be told, he had missed this just as much as you had. Maybe even more.

You were home to him in ways you would never fully understand.

[florawrites-blog]

boyfriend!niki whose your actual biggest cheerleader

The entire arcade had their eyes on you.

Ten minutes in, your arms were still locked on the pull-up bar, your grip unshaken, and your resolve immovable. The air buzzed with anticipation—gasps, whispers, and murmurs spread like wildfire as people gathered around, watching you defy expectations.

"She's actually gonna do it," someone whispered in disbelief.

"If she lasts ten more minutes, we all get teddy bears," another murmured, gripping their friend’s sleeve.

The arcade worker who set the challenge was beginning to look nervous, realizing she might actually have to follow through on her promise.

And then there was Ni-ki.

Leaning against the arcade game behind him, arms crossed, a knowing smirk resting on his lips. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t on the edge of his seat. He wasn’t surprised.

Because of course you were going to win.

He had seen your competitive streak before, knew that when you had your mind set on something, nothing could shake you—not even the growing burn in your arms or the eyes of the entire crowd.

Still, while he looked cool, Ni-ki was silently praying to the stars that you weren’t secretly in pain. His casual stance betrayed nothing, but inside? He was rooting for you harder than anyone.

"Two minutes left!" someone yelled, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

You gritted your teeth, legs swinging slightly as you focused on keeping steady.

One minute.

Thirty seconds.

And then—

Ding! The timer went off, signaling your victory.

The arcade erupted.

People cheered, jumping up and down, celebrating their win just as much as yours. The worker sighed in defeat, already reaching for the stash of teddy bears as the excited crowd lined up.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki?

Still acting unphased, still leaning against the machine, but this time, his smirk had stretched into something slightly bigger, his eyes gleaming with the pride he wasn’t outright saying.

And as soon as you stumbled off the platform, feeling just how heavy your arms had become, he was there—wordlessly turning around and lowering himself so you could hop onto his back.

No hesitation. No teasing. Just an effortless motion, like this was second nature.

You clung to him, head resting against his shoulder as he started walking. "Where are we going?" you mumbled, still slightly breathless.

"Your favorite ice cream shop," he said smoothly, as if this had been the plan all along.

You smiled against his shoulder. "So you do care."

He scoffed. "Tch. I just don’t want you passing out before I get my teddy bear."

Liar.

But you let him have that one.

[florawrites-blog]

boyfriend!jay who likes to plan your future together even when your dreams are too big

You lay comfortably on Jay’s lap, looking up at him with bright eyes as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair. The conversation had started with simple house plans—what kind of kitchen you wanted, whether to have a big backyard—but, naturally, it had spiraled into something much more important.

“Wait, wait—so you’re telling me,” Jay started, raising an eyebrow, “that even after we get married, my members are still gonna haunt us?”

You giggled, reaching up to poke his cheek. “Jay, are you kidding? They’re our children. And of course Uncle Heeseung will have his own suite—show him some respect.”

Jay sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Of course. How could I forget? Uncle Heeseung.”

You nodded proudly, but then, suddenly, your expression turned serious. You lowered your voice into a whisper, eyes darting side to side as if checking for hidden cameras. “Actually… Maybe we should also decorate his room.”

Jay’s brows furrowed. “What?”

You lifted your head slightly, still speaking as if revealing top-secret information. “Since he kinda doesn’t know how to, y’know… d-decorate.”

Jay burst out laughing, but you quickly shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips. “Shh! What if he’s listening?!”

��Oh yeah, you’re right,” he teased, eyes filled with amusement. “Heeseung’s probably hiding under the couch right now.”

“EXACTLY.”

Jay wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, still chuckling, but then his expression turned playfully serious. “You know what, baby? How about we also sing them lullabies before bed?”

Your eyes lit up. “OH MY GOD. YOU’RE A GENIUS.” You sat up excitedly. “We should also do, like, story time before bed—”

Jay tilted his head back, laughing so hard his dimples popped out. He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You grinned. “And yet, you’re still so down bad.”

Jay hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah… I really, really am.”

And if that meant listening to you happily rant about interior design and bedtime stories for his grown-up members every night, then he’d do it forever.

[florawrites-blog]

boyfriend!jay who likes to plan your future together even when your dreams are too big

You lay comfortably on Jay’s lap, looking up at him with bright eyes as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair. The conversation had started with simple house plans—what kind of kitchen you wanted, whether to have a big backyard—but, naturally, it had spiraled into something much more important.

“Wait, wait—so you’re telling me,” Jay started, raising an eyebrow, “that even after we get married, my members are still gonna haunt us?”

You giggled, reaching up to poke his cheek. “Jay, are you kidding? They’re our children. And of course Uncle Heeseung will have his own suite—show him some respect.”

Jay sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Of course. How could I forget? Uncle Heeseung.”

You nodded proudly, but then, suddenly, your expression turned serious. You lowered your voice into a whisper, eyes darting side to side as if checking for hidden cameras. “Actually… Maybe we should also decorate his room.”

Jay’s brows furrowed. “What?”

You lifted your head slightly, still speaking as if revealing top-secret information. “Since he kinda doesn’t know how to, y’know… d-decorate.”

Jay burst out laughing, but you quickly shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips. “Shh! What if he’s listening?!”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” he teased, eyes filled with amusement. “Heeseung’s probably hiding under the couch right now.”

“EXACTLY.”

Jay wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, still chuckling, but then his expression turned playfully serious. “You know what, baby? How about we also sing them lullabies before bed?”

Your eyes lit up. “OH MY GOD. YOU’RE A GENIUS.” You sat up excitedly. “We should also do, like, story time before bed—”

Jay tilted his head back, laughing so hard his dimples popped out. He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You grinned. “And yet, you’re still so down bad.”

Jay hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah… I really, really am.”

And if that meant listening to you happily rant about interior design and bedtime stories for his grown-up members every night, then he’d do it forever.

[florawrites-blog]

despite whatever situations happened in our community, i want you to PLEASE TAKE ATTENTION TO THE FOLLOWING POST.

DONALD TR*MP JUST ANNOUNCED A PROJECT FOR THE ETHNICAL CLEANSING OF THE GAZA STRIP.

In his words : “The U.S. will take over the Gaza Strip, and we will do a job with it, too. We’ll own it and be responsible for dismantling all of the dangerous unexploded bombs and other weapons on the site, level the site and get rid of the destroyed buildings, level it out, create an economic development that will supply unlimited numbers of jobs and housing for the people of the area.” “I don’t want to be cute. I don’t want to be a wise guy. But the Riviera of the Middle East, this could be something that could be so — this could be so magnificent.”

i'm genuinely tearing up as i write this, and i beg you from the bottom of my heart, PLEASE, don't let this go unnoticed despite the things happening on enhablr or any other community. tr*mp is literally threatening to wipe gaza and all palestinians from the map.

there's an ETHNICAL CLEANSING AND DISPLACEMENT threatening to happen despite other country leaders avidly going against it. please, please don't ignore this, and don't ignore the fact that he said this right after a CEASEFIRE was announced. even then, gaza keeps being bombed and there's no sign of stopping or good news.

no matter where you live, i BEG YOU BOYCOTT ANYTHING THAT MAY FUND ISR*EL.

boycott ANY brands that you can find near you. don't buy from them. don't buy from food chains you like if they support isr*el. don't buy from your favorite clothing brand if they support isr*el. don't watch a movie from disn*y or any other entertainment source because they support isr*el.

a guide on how to boycott (almost) full list of brands you should boycott

DON'T STOP SHARING.

SHARE news from RELIABLE SOURCES about the things happening in gaza on your social media, DONATE, go to RALLIES, ATTEND to everything and any kind of event or parade that supports palestine in your city. EDUCATE yourself and the ones around you. DON'T DENY HELP to the ones here on tumblr. DON'T BE AFRAID of showing your support to gaza and palestine. the people there are the ones who should be frightened for their lives.

here is a long list of gazan aid.

additionally : DAILY CLICK

ESIMS FOR GAZA

PETITION FOR FREE PALESTINE

WPF PALESTINIAN CHILDREN FOOD EMERGENCY

CAREFORGAZA SUPPORTING DISPLACED FAMILIES

SOME GFMS THAT NEED DONATIONS MORE VETTED GFMS (please check the tumblr tags #vetted gfm #gaza gfm and similar for more gofundmes)

some accounts to follow :

@.palestinianyouthmovement @.qudsn @.pslnational @.jewishvoiceforpeace

[florawrites-blog]

boyfriend!niki whose your actual biggest cheerleader

The entire arcade had their eyes on you.

Ten minutes in, your arms were still locked on the pull-up bar, your grip unshaken, and your resolve immovable. The air buzzed with anticipation—gasps, whispers, and murmurs spread like wildfire as people gathered around, watching you defy expectations.

"She's actually gonna do it," someone whispered in disbelief.

"If she lasts ten more minutes, we all get teddy bears," another murmured, gripping their friend’s sleeve.

The arcade worker who set the challenge was beginning to look nervous, realizing she might actually have to follow through on her promise.

And then there was Ni-ki.

Leaning against the arcade game behind him, arms crossed, a knowing smirk resting on his lips. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t on the edge of his seat. He wasn’t surprised.

Because of course you were going to win.

He had seen your competitive streak before, knew that when you had your mind set on something, nothing could shake you—not even the growing burn in your arms or the eyes of the entire crowd.

Still, while he looked cool, Ni-ki was silently praying to the stars that you weren’t secretly in pain. His casual stance betrayed nothing, but inside? He was rooting for you harder than anyone.

"Two minutes left!" someone yelled, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

You gritted your teeth, legs swinging slightly as you focused on keeping steady.

One minute.

Thirty seconds.

And then—

Ding! The timer went off, signaling your victory.

The arcade erupted.

People cheered, jumping up and down, celebrating their win just as much as yours. The worker sighed in defeat, already reaching for the stash of teddy bears as the excited crowd lined up.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki?

Still acting unphased, still leaning against the machine, but this time, his smirk had stretched into something slightly bigger, his eyes gleaming with the pride he wasn’t outright saying.

And as soon as you stumbled off the platform, feeling just how heavy your arms had become, he was there—wordlessly turning around and lowering himself so you could hop onto his back.

No hesitation. No teasing. Just an effortless motion, like this was second nature.

You clung to him, head resting against his shoulder as he started walking. "Where are we going?" you mumbled, still slightly breathless.

"Your favorite ice cream shop," he said smoothly, as if this had been the plan all along.

You smiled against his shoulder. "So you do care."

He scoffed. "Tch. I just don’t want you passing out before I get my teddy bear."

Liar.

But you let him have that one.