#........yes his backstory basically starts with his birth ...........

[ganondoodle]

(wip)

some doodles that took me way too much effort; an updated design for Raal (aka demise when he was a mortal, he still uses that name when in disguise and modeled those forms after how he imagined he would look if he ever grew up as one) and a clunky doodle of both his blade spirits just after forging them

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

no doubt ── s. jy

↳ summary ── struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.

↳ pairing ── jake x f!reader, [ft. childhoodbestfriend!jungwon, bestfriends!enha]

↳ genre ── idol!jake, friends to lovers!au || angstttt, fluff, crack

↳ ✎ᝰ. 23.7k [never beating the allegations of getting too attached to my works and having too much fun writing i fear...]

↳ contains ── angst! very angsty but only after a lot of fluff...the cheesy cringe type but then it goes downhill real quick...but happy ending i swear!, mentions of insecurities, maybe one or two curse words, fic starts with jake dating og character named jenn, the use of pet names, jungwon practically plays therapist, jake is absolutely whipped for reader but is terrible at communication and a certified idiot . also jungwon is reader's best friend so the beginning sets up the context for that lolz

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── she's DONEEE [do u hear me crying in the background]...so some backstory lore abt this fic—basically two years ago i had a dream about the ~angsty scene~ of this fic and ever since then, i've had this itch of putting it into words. and when i finally decided to do it, no doubt came out and i thought it was literal fate since the lyrics match the vibe so well...don't tell me it isn't fate guys :') anyways..this is a little different than my typical writing style even though of course i had to include summm crack..but i am still nervous abt how it came out so i really really hope you guys like it :') thank u for all the support and love always <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

You and Yang Jungwon were literally born to be best friends.  

Like, there was no other option.  

Your mom? Their high school's poster child for academic perfection—top of her class, president of every club imaginable, a certified teacher's pet.  

Jungwon's mom? Their high school's unofficial social chair—life of the party, karaoke queen, probably responsible for half the faculty's headaches. 

Nothing alike. 

So naturally, of course, they were inseparable. By their junior year, they'd already started planning their futures together, including one very specific and totally realistic goal that all teenage girl best friends make when they're young:  

"We should have our first kids around the same time and force them to be best friends!"  

"Oh my gosh, yes," Jungwon's mom agreed enthusiastically. "Like, we'll make them share everything! Matching outfits, playdates, joint birthday parties!"  

But what your moms didn't realize as they were giggling over the playful promise that probably didn't hold any meaning to them at the age of 17? 

The universe was taking notes.  

So fast forward a couple decades later, and there you were, baby best friends from birth, fulfilling the shared dream of your mothers—the true puppeteers in this scenario.  

All your moms had to do was execute their promise as planned, but the rest of it? The rest of it was easy.  

You and Jungwon clicked before you even knew what words were, communicating in a series of shared giggles and unintelligible baby noises. By the time you turned two, you were finishing each other's sentences in your made-up gibberish language, and by preschool, the bond was unshakable. 

You two—just like your moms—were inseparable.  

By high school, everyone knew you were a package deal—where you went, Jungwon followed, and vice versa. So, when he announced your sophomore year that he was leaving to compete on a televised idol survival show, you were, understandably, skeptical.  

"Are you sure it's not a scam?" You had asked, rolling lazily around on his bed while he scrambled around his room, packing his bags.  

"It's not a scam," Jungwon laughed, carefully folding his clothes. 

"Did they ask for your social security number?"  

"Y/N."  

"Exactly. I'm just saying—if you end up on one of those exposé documentaries about fake talent shows, don't say I didn't warn you."  

Despite your teasing, you knew how much this meant to him. Jungwon had been dreaming about being in the music spotlight since he figured out how to work a karaoke machine at the age of six.  

So when he eventually did make his debut with his group, you weren't surprised at all—it was inevitable, written in the stars, just like how your friendship with him was.

What did surprise you, though, was how seamlessly you got roped into his new world.  

Sure, Jungwon's life got infinitely busier overnight, but there is no universe that exists in which he'd forget about you—his non-conjoined twin, ride-or-die, and ultimate life-long nuisance (his words, not yours).  

And so naturally, you became an honorary member of this new life of his. The boys' practice studio might as well be your new home—the endless days camping out on the floor of their dance studio with your head in your textbooks while they drilled their choreography for the hundredth time proved that. Or maybe how you crash on their dorm couch so often that Sunoo coined you your new nickname: their unofficial eighth member.  

Which brings you to now: a marketing major by day, unofficial idol by night, and, as always, a certified magnet to chaos.

Case in point? Whatever madness was happening around you at this exact moment.  

"Okay, but hear me out," Heeseung says, gesturing dramatically with his pizza slice—one of many scattered across the coffee table everyone was sitting around. "Pineapple is the perfect combination of sweet and savory���"  

"It's a crime against humanity," Sunghoon cuts in. 

Tomorrow? The boys leave for their five-month tour.  

Tonight? Tonight is tradition: the pre-tour pizza bash.  

Naturally, it's chaos, as no one has bothered with the last-minute packing they're supposed to be doing.  

Not a single bag is packed.  

"It's fruit on bread," you scrunch your nose, taking a bite of your own normal pepperoni pizza. "This isn't dessert, Hee."  

"Thank you!" Sunghoon reaches across the table to high-five you. 

From the couch behind you, Jake chuckles and nudges your back with his knee, "Big talk coming from someone who claims pickles belong on everything."  

"Uh, because they do," you whip your head around to glare at him. "Pickles are versatile."  

"Versatile my ass," Jungwon mumbles from his spot beside you. "I love you, but you're deranged."  

"Look who's talking, Mr. 'I-put-hot-sauce-on-everything'," you shoot back, eyes narrowing at your best friend. Everyone chuckles from around the table at your dramatic, yet endearing, overreaction. 

"Hot sauce is different," Jay chimes in without even looking up from his phone. "It's an enhancer."  

"Pickles enhance flavor too!"  

"By making everything taste like vinegar," Sunoo deadpans from your other side. "Gross."  

"Whatever," you roll your eyes. "You're all uncultured."  

"And you're a menace," Jake quips from behind you, his voice dripping with amusement. You don't even have to turn around to see the smirk on his face—you can hear it loud and clear. 

"Careful, Sim," you say with a sly glance over your shoulder. "Keep talking, and I'll start adding pickle juice to your coffee."  

The room fills with laughter, but before Jake can fire back, his phone buzzes aggressively against the couch. You watch him glance down at his screen before his playful smile instantly fades.  

"I'll be right back," Jake mutters, getting up and heading towards the kitchen without another word.  

You frown as you watch him disappear around the corner, the sudden shift in his mood gnawing at you, and you can't help but wonder what's gotten under his skin. 

After a few more minutes of heated debates over pizza toppings—and yet another round of everyone ganging up on your weird pickle obsession—you decide it was time for a drink refill.  

Excusing yourself, you step into the kitchen, only to find Jake leaning against the counter, his arms crossed and gaze fixed on the empty wall in front of him. His phone sits abandoned on the counter, screen dark.  

"Jake?" You call out softly, approaching slowly. 

Your voice breaks through his haze, his expression flickering as he registers you standing in the doorway, your brows furrowed in concern.  

"What's going on?" You ask, moving closer to stand in front of him.   

"Nothing," Jake says too quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

You give him a look and he knows that you know he's lying, "Jake.."  

He exhales, his expression crumbling as he runs a hand through his hair, "Just...Jenn called."  

Ah. Of course. Jenn.  

You almost flinch at the sound of the name, the weight it carries instantly souring your stomach. Jake's on-again, off-again girlfriend of two years was a constant source of heartbreak—not just for the poor boy, but for the entire group who helped pick up the pieces of his broken heart after every messy break-up…and even messier make-up.  

"She broke up with me," Jake admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "For real this time. Something about me leaving for tour and how it wasn't going to work out."  

Your heart hurts at the sight of him in front of you—shoulders slumped, hands nervously twisting the hem of his shirt, as if trying to distract himself from the conversation.  

"Oh, Jake...," you murmur, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as you lean against the counter next to him.  

"I'm fine," he insists, waving it off, but the expression on his face clearly betrays him.  

"No, you're not," you say, trying to catch his eyes. "And that's okay."  

Jake lets out a shaky breath, finally looking up from the ground to look at you, before shrugging, "I don't even know why I’m surprised. We've been...really off for a while now. Like, more than usual. But still, it sucks."  

“Of course, it sucks," you nod, agreeing softly. "You guys were together for a long time. You cared about her."  

For a moment, the two of you sit in a heavy silence with an unspoken understanding, the only sounds coming from the muffled chatter and laughter in the other room. You stay close, letting him process without pushing further.  

Still, you can't entirely suppress the annoying flare of emotions bubbling in your chest—a tangled knot of sympathy and…something else. Relief, maybe? Not that you would ever wish any sort of pain on Jake—but you hate the way Jenn always leaves him like this: drained, doubting himself, and trying to piece together what went wrong, where he went wrong. 

"Come back to the living room," you say finally, nudging his side gently. "Ni-ki is freaking out over which hoodies to pack. And I swear, they're all the same black hoodie."  

Jake lets out a small, tired laugh, "You don't need me for that. He's gonna end up packing all of them, just watch."  

"You don't know that," you tease. "Besides, I need someone's back up to help me convince him he's not actually going through an emo phase."  

His eyes carry a faint smile as he looks at you, the corners of his lips lifting just enough to remind you of the warmth he usually carries.  

"Okay," he says in a whisper, pushing himself off the counter.  

You start towards the doorway, forgetting about your drink refill entirely, but his voice stops you.  

"Y/N?"  

You turn to find him still standing there, his eyes filled with warmth and appreciation.  

"Thanks," he adds, a small smile on his face. It's such a simple statement, but the way he says it—soft, sincere, and maybe just a little desperate—makes something twist in your stomach. "For just...always being here."  

You smile back up at the boy, "Of course, Jake. I'll always be here for you. You know that."  

For a moment, he holds your gaze, as if taking a mental note of something. Then he nods, his shoulders relaxing.

"Okay," he says, exhaling as he gestures toward the doorway. "Let's go.”

You follow behind the boy back to the living room, silently hoping he knows just how much you mean your promise to him.  

Jake's body is on autopilot at this point.  

Another city, another show, another string of flashing lights and deafening cheers. It's a month into tour, and the endless loop of responsibilities has left him no room to just breathe.  

And he loves this life—he really does. But tonight, for reasons he can't explain, the adrenaline that usually keeps him afloat isn't enough. Pure exhaustion lingers in his bones, heavier than the applause and screams echoing in his memory, and he just can’t seem to shake it. 

When his head finally hits the stiff hotel pillow, Jake exhales with a heavy sigh. The city around him is alive, the neon lights brightly dancing against his windowpane, but he feels none of it. 

Instead? He just feels the weight of homesickness and the ache of being alone. 

Normally, he would push through, shove these thoughts into the back of his mind, call it a night. But tonight, the ache feels different—sharper, louder—and before he knows it, his phone is in his hand before he can talk himself out of it, his thumb hovering over your name on his screen. 

A familiar battle wages in his mind, one he’s been battling more recently ever since tour became a little heavier on him. Slowly, the quiet yearning has been creeping in, and he’s been missing home more and more, craving the feeling of familiarity. But it isn’t just the physical places or the comfort of his regular routine that he craves. 

It’s something else, something harder to name. 

And for some other reason he can’t seem to explain, he thinks it’s you. 

Jake doesn’t know when it started. Maybe it was hearing the sound of your voice through the phone whenever the guys called you to check in every now and then. Or maybe it was the way you would text in their shared group chat, your messages always tinged with humor or a sense of calm that somehow made everything feel a little less overwhelming. 

Whatever it was, it stuck with him. He finds himself craving that unexplainable comfort only you seem to bring. He tells himself it’s nothing special, just the natural pull of familiarity. You’re back at home, the place he misses the most, so obviously, through association, it makes sense. 

It’s logical. Nothing more. 

That’s what he tells himself as his thumb hovers over your name. It’s not about you specifically—it couldn’t be. It’s just the connection to home. The grounding warmth of your voice. The way you somehow make the distance feel a little less suffocating. 

Obviously. Nothing more. 

He presses call.  

Two rings. That's all it takes before your voice cuts through all the static in his head. Groggy, soft, and achingly familiar. Like home.  

"Jake? It's late, is everything okay?"  

Jake glances at the clock. 10:13PM where he is. Much later for you, he imagines. Guilt stirs, but...  

He doesn't want to hang up. 

Hearing your voice feels like the first breath of air after surfacing from deep water. He instantly feels more comfortable despite the heaviness in his chest.

"Hey," he mumbles, his voice quiet. "I'm okay. Just...needed to hear a friendly voice, I guess."  

"Wow, are the boys that bad that you need to call me?" You tease warmly, despite the sleepiness lingering in your words.  

Jake chuckles, the sound low and tired, "Nothing against them, really. It's just...sometimes you need someone who reminds you of home, you know?"  

The other end of the line goes quiet for a moment. He can hear you shuffle, and he braces himself for a teasing comment about him being sappy and sentimental. But instead, your voice softens.  

"Well, I'm glad I could be that for you," your voice telling him you're smiling brightly on the other side of the screen. "Though if I had a private jet, I'd send it right now. Bring you back instantly."  

"A private jet, huh?" Jake's eyes flutter close as he's engulfed into the usual, playful rhythm that's always there between the two of you. "You'd do that for me?"  

"Only if you bring back goodies, preferably snacks," you quip back, and the warmth in his chest grows.  

There's another pause, the kind that feels comfortable rather than awkward. Jake shifts in his spot and before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “How do you do that?”  

“Do what?” 

“Make everything feel...lighter. Like, I can’t explain it, but just hearing you makes me feel like I’m not carrying all this stuff by myself.” 

Your voice softens at his sudden vulnerability. 

“Because you don't have to carry it all on your own, Jake. You know that, right? That’s what friends are for."  

Jake hums in response, a low sound of acknowledgement as he keeps his phone pressed close, your voice instantly soothing the heavy emotions he's been carrying. 

"You sound exhausted," you say after a beat, your tone cautious but filled with genuine care. "How are you holding up? With everything—the tour, the...break-up, just...you?"  

Jake lets out a low groan, his fingers brushing through his hair. "You sound like my mom."  

"Well, someone has to," you tease lightly, a relieved laugh slipping into your voice, as if you'd been afraid you overstepped. "Seriously, Jake. Are you doing okay?"  

Jake hesitates, the question catching him off guard. He hadn't let himself think too much about Jenn or the breakup since leaving for tour a month ago. The boys knew better than to bring it up, and Jake had been grateful for that—for the distraction.  

But now, with you, it feels different. 

Safer, easier. Natural.  

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he sighs, the sound heavy through the phone. “Some days it feels like I’m fine, like I’ve moved on, and other days...it’s like I’m stuck in this loop of ‘what ifs.’ Like, what if I did something different? Or..."  

He trails off to a pause, his throat tight, before he finally admits to you, and himself, "...what if I just wasn't enough?"  

“Jake,” you say gentle but firm, cutting through his spiraling thoughts. “You are enough. You've always been enough. Jenn...she just wasn’t the right person for you. That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.” 

He swallows hard, your words settling into the cracks he didn't even realize were there. 

"Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. It's just...hard, you know? Haven't really talked about it since it happened. But talking to you helps—a lot."  

“I’m glad." He can hear the quiet sincerity in your words. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing an amazing job. With tour, with...everything. You've got this, Jake. I’m really proud of you.”

Jake lets out a breathy laugh, the warmth in your words settling something in his chest—a knot he didn't even realize was there. 

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” 

“It’s a gift,” you easily reply, and he can hear the grin in your voice, the easy banter making him feel lighter.  

"I missed this," the words tumble out before he can stop himself. Then he quickly adds, as if to explain himself, "It's weird not having you around. The boys are great and all, but you give the best advice. Don't tell them that."  

You giggle on your end, the sound making Jake's lips curve into a small smile and his heart twists.  

In both a comforting and terrifying way. 

"I miss it too," your voice quieter now. "But I'm here. You know that, right? Even if you're on the other side of the world, or if you call me at four in the morning like you're doing right now."  

Jake lets out a chuckle followed by a sleepy groan, "Sorry about that. But...thank you, Y/N. For picking up."  

"Always," you reply, and he hopes you mean it.  

A beat passes. Jake knows he should hang up, that he should let you sleep. He tries to convince himself that you need the sleep more than he needs this call.  

But he can't help himself.  

"You'll yell at me if I don't sleep, won't you?"  

"Absolutely. Go to bed, Jake. Or at least try. Zombie mode doesn't suit you."  

"Fine," he sighs dramatically, but his eyes feel heavier and he knows he's falling asleep, the tension in his body from before easing away. "But only because you scare me sometimes."  

You laugh. "Good. Now get some rest. And call me whenever you need to, okay?"  

"Okay," he mumbles into his phone quietly, his mind already slipping into a deep sleep. 

"Goodnight, Y/N."  

"Goodnight, Jake."  

"Don't you have a bedtime, Sim Jaeyun?" You tease, answering the call. The clock reads 1:27AM, and you should be asleep—you really should—but you smile anyways when Jake's name appears on your screen.  

"Bedtime? I don't know her," his voice slightly groggy, but as usual, still warm. "Besides I knew you'd be awake. You don't sleep like a normal person either."  

You roll your eyes, knowing fully well he can't see it, "Yeah, well, I don't have to dance around a stage for two hours tomorrow."  

"True, but you do have to deal with my constant calls and keep me entertained. That's way harder."  

"Oh yeah, obviously," you say with mock seriousness. "Being your emotional support human is a full-time job." 

“Emotional support human,” Jake repeats, chuckling softly. “You’re right. I guess I really owe you, huh?”

“Oh, 100%,” you shoot back, a grin in your voice. “I want one of those tour hoodies you guys keep posting with.” 

“Done. What size?” 

"The oversized one."  

Jake pauses. “Let me guess—so you can sleep in it?"  

You hesitate, suddenly sheepish at how he knows you too well, “Hey, it's only cozy if it's oversized!"  

You hear his soft laugh on the other end of the line. 

“Cute. I’ll make sure to steal one for you.” 

You try not to overanalyze the way your stomach flips at the word cute, and the easy way he says it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  

You shake the thought off immediately. This wasn't new, after all, Jake's always warm and easy to talk to. But lately—over the past month of phone calls—the way he says certain things, the tone he says them in, and the way they make you feel? It carried a weight you weren't sure how to hold.  

In both a comforting and terrifying way.  

“So, how was your day?” you suddenly bring up, trying to redirect your thoughts. 

"Tiring," Jake sighs, his voice muffled as he shifts around in bed. "And Jungwon keeps beating me at Mario Kart during our break time. My pride is in shambles, Y/N."  

"Let me guess," you smirk, repeating his words from earlier. "He picks Yoshi, and you keep picking Toad because you think he's underrated."  

"Excuse me," Jake scoffs. "Toad is underrated. But, for your information, I choose Toad because your go-to character is Toadette."  

Your heart does that stupid flip again. His words are light—I mean, you guys are talking about Mario Kart for god's sake—but it's stuff like that that keeps you questioning the true meaning behind his words.

You ignore the feeling, instead, a laugh bubbles up in response, an attempt to sound unaffected.

"You're so weird."  

“But you like it,” he quips, voice dipping just slightly, like he’s testing the waters. 

You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, but you recover just as quickly. 

"Debatable."  

“Liar.”

His tone is teasing, but there's something softer behind it, “You wouldn’t still be on the phone with me if you didn’t like me at least a little.” 

“Maybe I’m just bored,” you shoot back, though your cheeks are burning at his sudden forwardness, questioning if he’s serious or just messing with you. 

You hear him hum in response, "Then I guess I'll have to work harder to keep you interested."  

“Oh yeah? How are you planning to do that?” You try to match his teasing tone, but internally, you feel unsteady under the implication of his words. 

“By being my usual charming self, duh,” he says, his voice dropping into a smooth tone. “And, you know, calling you every night so you don’t forget about me.” 

Your heart squeezes. "You already do that, stupid. You think I'd forget about you?"  

“Never,” Jake's reply is immediate, almost instinctive, leaving no room for doubt. “But just in case…I like hearing your voice. Makes me feel like I’m not a million miles away.” 

His words linger in the space between you, heavier than the playful banter from earlier. You swallow hard, trying your best to keep your voice steady. 

“You’re not a million miles away, Jake.” 

“Feels like it,” he murmurs. You hear a pause in his voice, as if he's thinking hard about his next words. “I miss home. I miss...you." 

Your chest tightens, and your hands grip the sheets beneath you, as if the fabric could somehow ground you. Your heart is doing that thing again—the erratic, terrifying thing that makes you want to believe in something you're not sure is even real.  

And at the same time, your thoughts are scrambling to say something lighthearted before the conversation steers into that dangerous, dangerous territory you were sure you weren't ready for.  

Not yet.  

"Well, you better win at least one round of Mario Kart for me while you're out there," you force a laugh, trying to mask the tremor in your voice.  

Jake laughs, the sound genuine, "I'll try. But if I lose, just know I'm dedicating every race to you."  

"Wow, I'm so honored," you try to deadpan, but he can sense the grin in your voice.  

"You should be," his voice softens again. "Thanks for picking up tonight, by the way. I know it's late."  

He never fails to thank you every night, as if you haven't been picking up every day for the past month and won't be picking up tomorrow, and the next day...and the day after that.  

And, somehow, the same, genuine appreciation makes it so hard for you to ignore that weird, warm, fluttering sensation growing inside you every time you talk to him.  

But, regardless, you always give him the same reply: 

"Always," your voice matching his softness. "Call me whenever, okay?"  

"Don’t say that," Jake warns, the teasing edge creeping back into his tone. "I'll actually do it."  

"Fine," you giggle. "But if you call me at four in the morning again, I'm putting my phone on Do Not Disturb." 

"Deal." He pauses, then adds, "Goodnight, Y/N."  

"Goodnight, Jake."  

As you hang up, you stare at your phone for a moment longer than you should have, your room feeling oddly quiet and too empty without his voice.  

It's just another call, Y/N. Just another call between two friends.  

But deep down, a part of you tells you it isn’t that simple anymore.  

And maybe—just maybe—he knows it too.  

“Are you busy?” Jake’s voice sounds more tired than usual, heavy with an overwhelming amount of tension. 

“Never too busy for our calls,” you easily reply without hesitation as you lay back in your bed, phone close to your ear. Your voice is light, a stark contrast to the weariness laced in his, and when he doesn’t respond with his typical chuckle, you immediately sense his mood. “Hard day?” 

He exhales slowly, the weary sound answering your question. Today was a lot. Hours of rehearsal followed by a concert, the adrenaline rush of performing, followed by the chaos of having the guys’ hotel information leaked. Crowds of paparazzi and fans swarmed the entrance, the relentless flashes of cameras breaking through whatever little pieces of calm he had left within him. The noise, the pressure, the endless cycle—all spiraled into a mental mess he doesn’t seem to shake. 

The second he settled into his hotel room, all Jake knew was that he needed to talk to you—the one person who could steady his racing thoughts. 

"I just...I didn't think this would get to me, you know? The cameras, the people, the flashes in my face—I'm just—it's like I'm never alone."  

Your heart twists at the vulnerability and rawness in his voice, as if he’s admitting something for the first time—not just to anyone else, but to himself. 

"I—I don't know. Sometimes I wish I could just disappear, just for a little while. Just to breathe, you know?"  

You close your eyes, your grip on the phone unconsciously tightening as if it could anchor him somehow.  

"I know it's not the same," your voice steady, even as you internally ached for him, "but...you can disappear with me, Jake. Even if it's just through the call. No cameras. No noise. Just...you and me."  

He lets out an exhale—shaky, but relieved.  

"You're really good at this. Making me feel like it's all gonna be okay."  

"Because it is going to be okay, Jake," you reply softly. "You're not alone, Jake. Not with me."  

"Yeah," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, and he wishes more than anything else in this moment that he actually was with you. “I know.” 

"Jake," you groan, sitting cross-legged on your bed, staring at the flustered boy through your laptop screen. "I'm begging you—just wear the black jacket. It's literally impossible to mess up black."  

"But what about the beanie?" He whines as he pops back into view, his face scrunched up in genuine distress. "Do you think I can pull it off, or will I look like I'm trying too hard? Be honest, Y/N."  

What started as a simple fashion-advice-question over the phone turned into a two-hour wardrobe emergency—all because Jake couldn’t figure out what to wear to the airport the next day (because, apparently, airport fits matter—his words, not yours).

"Jake, you could wear a literal trash bag to the airport and fans would still lose their minds," you tease, biting back a laugh. 

He rolls his eyes at you, but the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.  

"Okay, but seriously, you’re trying too hard. Just go with the jacket, no beanie," you add on, just to end this two-hour long madness.  

"Hmm," Jake plops on his bed and turns towards his phone camera, and you swear you can see the pout forming on his lips. "But I already posted a preview of the jacket last week. Isn't that, like, repetitive?"  

"Jake,” you blink at him, "it's an airport. Not a fashion show."  

He stares at you for a beat, then lets out a dramatic sigh, "Fine! Jacket, no beanie. But if I see even one criticizing comment calling me basic, I'm blaming you."  

You laugh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness, "Deal. Now go to sleep, Sim Jaeyun."  

His grin softens as he adjusts the camera to fully look at you, pout gone, eyes glistening.

"Only because you said so."  

"Hey," you say softly, answering the call as you snuggle deeper into your blanket, letting it engulf you completely.

The familiar sound of Jake's quiet breathing fills the space between you, and before he even says a word, you already know.  

"Rough day?" You ask gently when he doesn’t say anything after a few seconds. 

"Yeah," he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual, almost drowned out by the low hum of background noise. "I just...I don't really feel like talking right now, if that's okay."  

"Of course," you reply without hesitation, your tone gentle, no questions asked.

On the other end, Jake presses the phone closer to this ear in an attempt to feel closer to you, instantly feeling better from your pure understanding of how he’s feeling, and he thinks—not for the first time—that you might be his favorite person in the world.  

The warm silence engulfs the both of you like a shared blanket, unspoken yet understood. You can hear the faint echoes of his surroundings: the muffled laughter of the boys somewhere nearby, the distant honk of traffic outside his hotel, and then the quiet shuffle of Jake shifting positions in his hotel bed. You catch his breath catching slightly, like he's finally allowing himself to relax—to just be.  

You don't try to fill the silence. You know that he needs this—a moment of peace in the chaos. Instead, you similarly press the phone closer to your ear, as if doing so can somehow bridge the miles between you, hoping he can sense your presence reaching out for him. 

Minutes pass like this, and for a moment, it’s so quiet you begin to wonder if he's falling asleep. But then, a deep exhale breaks the stillness.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says finally, his voice low but steady, carrying a weight of sincerity that makes your heart clench.  

"You don't have to thank me, Jake," your voice matches his softness. "You know that."  

"Still," his voice is low, so quiet, it feels like a secret meant only for you. "I appreciate you. More than you probably know."  

You smile to yourself, your heart aching in the best way possible, and you desperately try your best to ignore it, no matter how much excitement it brought you. 

"Always, Jake." 

“Tell me something about you that I don’t already know,” you challenge him, your voice carrying that light and endearing tone over the phone that Jake’s come to crave. 

“Hmm,” Jake hums thoughtfully as he lies in his bed, eyes closed, just simply treasuring the small moments, like this one, with you. 

Even though it’s definitely 3AM where he is right now. And he definitely has to be up in a few hours for rehearsal. 

Oh well, completely irrelevant. Talking about everything and anything with you just felt so right. 

“I don’t know,” he eventually exhales, his brain too foggy to think of anything logical right now. “I feel like you know me better than I know myself at this point, Y/N.” 

“You’re so corny it physically hurts, Jake,” you scoff, and Jake swears he can feel your exaggerated eye roll from thousands of miles away. 

“Oh—wait, wait! I have one,” he perks up, his eyes shooting open as he turns towards the phone in excitement. 

“Hit me,” you say, unconsciously smiling at how cute he sounds. 

“I’m allergic to flowers.” 

The line falls silent for a beat before you erupt into a storm of giggles so wild it makes Jake feel sick from how fast the butterflies in his stomach start fluttering. 

“That’s your fun fact? That’s so tragic, Jake,” you gasp through your giggles. “Like, depressingly tragic.” 

“Hey! It’s not that sad, it could be worse,” Jake hopes you can hear his pout over the phone (you can). 

“So you’re telling me you’ve never bought a girl flowers before?” You tease, smiling to yourself as you stare at your ceiling. 

“Guess not,” Jake lets out a laugh, which surprises himself. “Jenn used to always get mad at me for never getting her any, but what am I supposed to do? Show up with a bouquet and an epi-pen? I literally start tearing up whenever I’m around any kind.” 

You lose it all over again, your laughter spilling through Jake’s phone like sunshine, and Jake doesn’t even realize he’s smiling so widely until his cheeks start to ache. 

But what Jake does realize is something unexpected: for the first time in forever, he can talk about Jenn without a single pang of…anything. No weird tension, no lingering sadness—just a casual mention and then…nothing. 

It’s freeing, this feeling of lightness, like an invisible weight he didn’t know he was even carrying has suddenly lifted. He wonders if this is what moving on really feels like, if he’s found his emotional freedom. He wonders when it changed. 

He wonders maybe it’s not when—maybe it’s who.  

And he wonders if it’s you. 

Today was supposed to be Jake’s day off. The golden ticket to rest, recharge, and not think about anything.

Key term: supposed to be.

Instead, Jake found himself knee-deep in the trenches of emotional warfare—and losing spectacularly.

The morning started innocently enough. No alarm, no schedule, just the soft promise of freedom that was so close within his reach. But by noon, Jake came to a harsh realization.

Freedom was a lie.

Because every step, every sight, every breath, was haunted by one inescapable thought: You.

It started with a boutique. Him and the boys had wandered down a cobblestone street in a city that Jake had already forgotten the name of—city number ten or eleven of tour? He barely knew anymore. But then his gaze caught on a mannequin in the window.

Big mistake.

The outfit on display—similar to his mind—had you written all over it. Immediately, his brain spiraled.

Y/N would love that. She'd probably drag me and all the guys in and force me to hold her bag while she tried it on.

He had to physically stop himself from dragging the group inside to purchase it on the spot.

Next? A coffee shop. And there it was: a poster featuring some limited-edition iced peach latte. Jake froze, staring at it like it held the answers to life itself.

You’d love it. You would order it, (well, you'd make Jake order it, because you hate talking to cashiers), sip it, smile, and probably rant about how overpriced it was—even though Jake would pay for it—yet you’d still finish the entire thing.

And then, you'd steal half of his drink, too. 

Because you always did. 

And Jake always lets you.

The final straw? A cat. Just a random stray, peacefully lounging on a sunny part of sidewalk, looking like it had zero interest in the world around it. And even that didn't escape Jake's you-obsessed filter. Without even thinking, Jake whipped out his phone. 

It was instinctual at this point.

Jake [1:06PM]: (attached - one image) Jake [1:06PM]: thought you'd like this one :)

Because obviously, you needed to see that cat. Immediately.

By the time Jake collapses onto his hotel bed that evening, he feels like he’d run a mental marathon—except instead of a finish line, every road led back to you.

He flops onto his bed, hoping sleep would save him from the storm raging in his brain.

Spoiler alert: it doesn't.

Instead, it leads him to the complete opposite. He stares at your name on his phone, your contact picture, your last messages to him. 

You texted him two hours ago—a sweet goodnight message that ended with your usual, 'Don't hesitate to call if you need me.' 

Casual. Normal.

But it probably didn't mean, 'Hey, please interrupt my sleep from the other side of the world so we can discuss your ongoing emotional crisis over me.'

Don't do it, Jake. The remaining rational brain cells within him beg him to stop. You're being dramatic. She's not the air you need to breathe.

But at the same time, deep down, Jake really thinks you are.

The worst part? You two already had talked on the phone earlier—when Jake had another fashion crisis and couldn't decide what to wear for his day off exploring with the guys. Of course, you laughed at him, teased him, but then helped him pick something out anyways. Typical.

Personally, if it was up to him, he'd spent his whole day off on the phone with you. Talking about everything. Or nothing. Whatever you wanted, Jake would've done it, no hesitation.

Don't do it, Jake, his brain warns him again. What kind of obsessed-lunatic calls the same person twice in one day?

Answer: Jake.

But as Jake lies in his hotel bed, thoughts heavily clouded with the image of you and the sound of your voice, he realizes...this wasn't just a phone call thing. No, this was deeper, worse. And somewhere between staring at the same patch of ceiling and replaying every memory of you on a mental loop, Jake tries to rationalize it.

She’s just a good friend, Jake. A best friend, even! You think about her a lot because she’s cool and funny and…and she has the laugh of a Disney princess...But it’s normal to think about your friends, right? Right??

But the more he tries to downplay it, the clearer it becomes. This was something else.

And then it hits.

Like, really hits.

Oh my god. I like her.

Jake shoots upright, widened eyes filled with horror, as if the realization itself just physically smacked him across the face.

No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

Jake buries his face in his hands, groaning. But the groan quickly turns into a muffled scream, because the more he thinks about it, the worse it gets.

Because he thinks you're going to be the death of him. He really, really likes you. Not in the vague, 'Oh, she’s cute' way, but in the write-her-name-in-a-heart-and-doodle-little-stars-around-it kind of way. The stare-at-her-texts-like-they’re-poetry kind of way. The imagine-her-laughing-at-your-dad’s-jokes-and-enjoying-your-mom’s-meals-forever kind of way.

And this feeling? It's new. It's terrifying. 

It's exhilarating.

Jake realizes in this very moment that he's never experienced this heart-pounding, face-flushing, breath-taking kind of feeling towards anyone. Sure, his past relationship had been meaningful in its own way, but now Jake is realizing that the foundation of his past relationship was tangled up in obligations and unspoken expectations. A tightrope act of Jake having to be the perfect boyfriend, the perfect idol, the perfect...everything. He never realized how suffocating it was until now—until you. Because this feeling with you?

This was pure. Simple, clear, and undeniable.

Your sheer existence proved that it's possible for someone to understand him better than he understands himself. Your laugh had a way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight of the world had been momentarily suspended. Just one look from you alone somehow always manages to make him feel like he was still worthy even on his worst days.

With you, Jake felt...himself, for once. Not Jake Sim, global popstar. Not Jake Sim, the boyfriend of so-and-so. Just...Jake.

Jake's heart pounds as the realization sinks in. He's now transitioned from screaming into his hands to his poor hotel pillow.

Because as clear and strong as this feeling is, the doubt is just as overwhelming. What if you don't feel the same? What if this ruins everything?

But at the same time...what if you do feel the same way?

What if this is his chance? The butterfly effect that changes everything? What if you're it? You have to be.

And so, like an idiot possessed, Jake's finger is one millimeter away from pressing call on your name again.

Because, obviously, the best way to deal with overwhelming feelings is to confess them from a hotel room five countries away.

Obviously. 

Because what if he didn't call? What if he spent the rest of his night spiraling into an endless pit of unspoken feelings and overthinking, arms flailing as he knows the only way out of the pit is with your help?

What if his brain explodes with the sheer amount of feelings he has for you and he never has the chance to tell you ever again?

He presses call.

The line rings twice before you answer.

"Jake?" Your voice is soft, laced with surprise and just the faintest trace of sleep. "It's late for you, is everything okay?"

Jake's brain short-circuits. What time even is it for him? He has no idea, and frankly, he doesn't care.

"Yeah," he blurts, far too quickly that he winces at himself. He clears his throat before trying again, "I mean, yeah. Everything's fine. I just...couldn't sleep."

"Oh," you hum softly and Jake swears the sound alone could single-handedly resolve global wars.

Yeah, he definitely likes you.

"Is something stressing you out?" The genuine concern in your voice makes his chest tighten.

"No—well, nothing like that," Jake rushes to assure you, sitting up straighter in bed now, as if you could see him. His voice lowers, almost shy, "I just...I was thinking about you."

Silence. Jake's heart pounds so loudly, he's sure you can hear it through the phone.

"About me?" You finally tease, light and playful, but there's something softer underneath. "What did I do to deserve such an honor?"

Jake lets out a nervous, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair, “You exist. That’s what.”

Another pause. He hears you exhale softly, and the sound alone sends his heart into overdrive.

"That was smooth," your voice is quiet, soft, as if teetering on the line of teasing and nervousness at the same time. "Ten out of ten, Jake."

"I'm serious," Jake tries his best to keep his voice from cracking, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him. "I was lying here, thinking about everything, and I realized something."

"And what's that?"

Jake's throat goes dry. His heart is screaming at him to say it, but his brain begs him to reconsider.

But Jake's sure he's lost all his rational brain cells for sure at this point, so he swallows hard, and braces himself for impact.

"I like you, Y/N."

The words spill out, raw and unpolished, but so utterly true.

“I mean, I really like you," Jake continues, his voice barely above a whisper now. "More than a friend, more than anything.”

The line goes silent, and for a split second, a lifetime of pure awkwardness and torture of not having you in his life anymore flashes in his vision, and he rushes to fill the void.

"I know this is probably the worst timing ever, and probably really scary...and it's okay if you don't feel the same way," his voice definitely cracks this time, laying everything bare, but he doesn't care anymore. "But I had to tell you. I can't pretend around you, not when being around you feels like the only time I'm really me."

Then, you let out a soft exhale—a disbelieving, breathless sound that makes Jake's heart skip a beat.

"Jake..."

"You're...you're everything, Y/N. You make life better just by being in it. And I haven't even seen you in four months, but you're all I think about," Jake lets out a small laugh, swallowing the remainder of all his pride and dignity. "I promise, when I'm back...I'll prove it to you. I'll show you how much you mean to me. Anything it takes. "

For once in his life, Jake feels completely vulnerable—and yet, strangely, it feels right.

Because he means it, every word.

He's never meant anything more.

The line had gone quiet after Jake’s confession, his words echoing in your ears. 

“I like you, Y/N.” 

No, not like. Really, really like. 

You spent the last few days replaying his words over and over, dissecting every syllable, every tiny inflection in this voice. At first, it didn't even seem real.  

A part of you still thinks it isn't—that this is all a cruel dream and you're going to wake up any second now back in the real world. The one where Jake Sim, the boy who turns heads and steals hearts without even trying, didn't just confess his deepest, most vulnerable feelings for you in a single phone call. 

But no. He said it, alright. Clear as day.  

First, all you felt was pure happiness. Maybe it was hearing his voice everyday, or maybe it was seeing how his face lit up through the screen when you picked up his video calls—but somewhere along the way, you knew it was something deeper. 

Something that made your heart skip when his name lit up your phone, something that left you craving his voice to make your day feel complete. And now? Now the boy who’d effortlessly become your favorite part of every day was telling you you’d done the same for him. 

But then, came the fear. 

Because what if this was just a rebound? What if you were just a soft landing for him, a way to patch up the holes left behind by his past? Here you were, standing at the edge of something terrifyingly real, wondering if you were just a step in his recovery process—a way to fill the cracks, but not the kind of permanence you were beginning to crave. 

You weren’t naive enough to see Jake’s past relationship didn’t still linger in the corners of his mind. You’d seen him struggle with it before, how hard he’d tried to convince himself he was fine. What if you were just the next step in his healing, rather than something real—a Band-Aid for a wound that wasn’t even yours to heal? 

And worse—what if you let it happen? What if you let yourself fall, only to hit the ground at an alarming speed, and...splat. Not just a regular, embarrassing tumble, no. But the kind that leaves you flattened on the pavement like a cartoon character who ignored every warning sign. 

Because that’s exactly what it would feel like, wouldn’t it? Giving it, letting yourself hope—only to crash and burn spectacularly. 

Deep down, you knew you weren’t just risking a little heartache. Because Jake? Jake had quietly claimed a permanent spot in your heart at this point. 

You were risking everything. 

And the worst part? 

You were already halfway there. 

That was the reason why you told him you needed time. The reason why all you could manage to respond was a meek, 'I just...I need to think about this.' And to his credit, Jake hadn't pushed. Of course, not.  

But now, three days later, you were no closer to an answer. If anything, the time apart had made everything worse. 

Because as the days stretched on, with every passing hour, every text you didn’t send and every call you didn’t make, one thing became gut-wrenchingly, undeniably clear: 

You were already his. 

You miss Jake’s voice, his laugh, the way he rambles about the most random things late at night. You miss how, somehow, he made you fall asleep with a smile on your face from the other side of the world. You miss him, that even in his absence, he was still your first thought in your mind when you woke up and the last before you drifted to sleep. 

And no amount of overthinking or second-guessing could change the truth that finally settled in your chest like a secret you weren’t ready to admit to yourself:

You were his. Completely. 

The only question now was whether you’d let yourself believe he was yours too. 

"Y/N?"  

"Jungwon," you groan helplessly into your phone. "Help me."  

A pause. Then, "Are you sure you meant to call me? It's Jungwon, not Jake," he teases lightly. "I can go get Jake if you meant—" 

"Jungwon!" You cut him off, panicked. "I'm being serious. It's about Jake, dummy."  

"Oh," his tone shifts instantly as he senses the seriousness in your voice. "Did something happen? Because I swear, for the past three days, Jake's been moping around like a kicked puppy, and I was gonna ask you about it because I know you guys have been talking a lot more, but I didn't want to push, and—" 

"That's exactly it, Jungwon!" You wail into your pillow, your voice muffled. Great, now you feel even worse, knowing Jake is moping around, waiting for you.   

"What's exactly it?" Your best friend presses, voice curious. "I need specifics, Y/N."  

You hesitate, the words clinging to the back of your throat like they're too heavy to admit. Finally, you take a deep breath and force them out.  

"Jake told me he likes me, Jungwon. Like really, really likes me. He gave this whole monologue about how I'm all he can think about, and it was so cute, and it made me want to explode from joy and fear all at once, and I don't know what to do!"  

A beat of silence. 

Jungwon sucks in a dramatic breath and then, "Wait, wait, wait. Back up. First of all, this is not news to me."  

You blink, as if he can see your look of shock over the phone, "What?"  

"This was obvious, Y/N. The guy's been smitten with you for months. You guys literally have been talking every day since we left."  

Your jaw drops, "So what? You and I talk every day! How is this any different?"  

Jungwon snorts, "Y/N, we text every day. About minuscule things. Like me reminding you not to forget your keys and you ghosting my last text. But you and Jake? You guys talk for hours—into the illegal hours of the night, mind you. Trust me, I know. Hotel walls are thin."  

You feel your cheeks flushing, "That doesn't mean anything."  

"Doesn't it?" Jungwon's voice is laced with amusement. "When's the last time you called me just to hear my voice?"  

"Jungwon."  

"Exactly."  

You groan again, "But Jungwon, what if…what if he's not over Jenn? What if I'm just a rebound?"  

Jungwon goes quiet for a moment, his tone softening when he finally speaks, “Jake’s not like that, Y/N. You know that. He wouldn’t tell you he likes you unless he meant it.” 

“Yeah, but—” 

“Look," he interrupts. "Jake’s a lot of things—annoyingly loud, for one—but he’s not the kind of guy who’d use someone, especially you, as a rebound. If he said he likes you, he likes you.” 

You bite your lip, his words settling over you like a warm blanket—because you know they're true.  

“And for what it’s worth,” Jungwon continues, “I think you like him too.” 

“I..,” you falter, your heart hammering in your chest. “I do.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

You sigh, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the nerves coiled in your stomach, “I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.” 

“That’s okay,” Jungwon says gently. “But don’t let fear stop you from something that could make you happy. You deserve that, Y/N. And so does Jake.” 

You close your eyes, letting Jungwon's words sink in. Deep down, you know he's right, he always is.  

"Thanks, Jungwon," you say, your voice softer now, tinged with gratitude.  

"Anytime," he replies, and then, with a teasing lilt, "But seriously—you should probably tell him soon. I can't stand watching him mope around like a sad, abandoned puppy. It's seriously tragic, like, to the point where I’m gonna have to start letting him win at Mario Kart."  

A small giggle escapes you, light and genuine for the first time in three days, "I know, I know. Eventually."  

"Y/N," his voice turns playfully stern, like a parent lecturing their toddler. "Eventually isn't a time. Just call him. You've been thinking about him nonstop, haven't you?" 

Unfortunately, Jungwon knows you too well. Your silent response betrays you, and Jungwon lets out a triumphant hum.  

"Thought so. Well, you should go. You have a call to make."  

You sigh, a mix of nerves and a new determination bubbling, "Okay, okay. But if this goes horribly wrong, I'm blaming you."  

"It won't. But deal," his tone is reassuring, confident, like he already knows how this story ends. "You got this, Y/N."  

The call ends, and the quiet still of your room taunts you. For a moment, you sit there, staring at your phone, the little icon of Jake's contact picture—a selfie the two of you took together many years ago—staring back at you like a challenge.  

Your fingers hover. Your heart races, your palms feel clammy, and your stomach twists.  

But then you remember Jungwon's words.  

You deserve this.  

And so does Jake.  

You take a deep breath, then you press down on his name.  

The phone doesn't even reach the second ring before he picks up.  

"Y/N," Jake’s voice is rushed, a little breathless.  

"Hey," you say softly, suddenly unsure where to start. "Um, were you busy?"  

"No, no," he quickly responds. "Not at all. You could call me at 3AM, and I still would’ve picked up."  

"That's unhealthy, you know," your lips twitch as you lay back in your bed, taking a deep inhale. You missed this—you missed him.  

"For you? Worth it," you can hear the smile in his voice, but along with the slight tension just beneath it—the faintest tremor that tells you he's been waiting for this call, maybe agonizing over it just as much as you have.  

You swallow hard, gripping the phone tight, "Jake, about...our last call..."  

"Take your time," he says gently, though you don't miss the way his voice wavers ever so slightly. "I mean it, Y/N. There's no pressure."  

You exhale shakily, closing your eyes, “I’ve been thinking a lot, too. About you. About…us.” 

Jake stays silent, but you could hear the faint sound of him shifting, like he was bracing himself. 

You squeeze your eyes hard, as you let the words finally come out, "I like you too, Jake. A lot. So much, honestly. It's just..."  

"It's just...?" Jake's voice repeats softly, as if that's all he can manage to let out in the midst of his nervousness.  

You hold your breath, scared of what you're about to admit—to Jake and to yourself. 

"It's just...I'm scared," your voice comes out barely above a whisper, "I'm scared that this is too good to be true. That you're saying all of this because...I don't know—you're trying to move on...from the past, or because you're lonely on tour, or—" 

"Y/N,” Jake's voice cuts through firm, but gentle.  

"You're not…a rebound, or a distraction, or anything like that," he starts quietly, each word deliberate. "And this isn't about...Jenn, or me being lonely, or whatever else you think. This is about you."  

Your breath hitches as you take in his words and open your eyes, hoping that staring at the ceiling above you could somehow ground you.  

“You’re the one who makes me laugh when I’ve had the worst day,” Jake continues. “You’re the one I want to talk to, even when I’m running on zero sleep. You’re the one I think about when I’m on stage and wish I could just look into the crowd and see you there. It’s you, Y/N."  

His words are overwhelming, too much, and you're unsure how to even process them. Your throat tightens, and you can feel the subconscious tears prickling at the corners of your eyes without even realizing they were forming.  

"Are you sure, Jake?"  

"More than anything else, Y/N," he says immediately, like the words have been waiting on the tip of his tongue. "And I want to do this right, Y/N. No rushing, no expectations. Just...tell me what you need from me, and I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."  

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache. You can picture him on the other side of the line, sitting in some unfamiliar hotel room, his brows probably furrowed in that adorable way they always do whenever he tries to find the right words.  

You bite your lip, a small laugh escaping despite the tears sliding down your cheeks, “You’re so cheesy, you know that?” 

Jake lets out a small laugh, immediately easing from the tension that hung in the air.  

"Only for you," he mumbles, his voice soft but steady.  

You sigh, the sound reaching Jake on the other side. There's a pause, a moment of mutual understanding in silence, just listening to the quiet, peaceful hum of each other's breathing.  

“Jake?” You say finally, your voice trembling. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think…” You take a deep breath, and you think your heart is about to break out of your chest. “I think I want to try too.” 

The silence on the other end was electric, and for a moment, you think maybe the call dropped. Then, you hear the unmistakable sound of Jake’s laugh—soft, relieved, and filled with so much warmth that it instantly makes your own heart feel lighter. 

“You're driving me crazy, Y/N,” he says, his voice almost breathless, but tinged with humor.  

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he says, a smile clear in his tone.  

“I hope I am,” you quip, and it makes him chuckle, the sound warm and full of relief. “Guess I’m stuck with your cheesy lines now huh?” 

“Stuck with me?” Jake repeats, pretending to sound offended. “No way. I’m stuck with you, Y/N. And trust me, I’m not going anywhere.” 

His words are so simple, yet so full of promise, and it leaves you feeling a little breathless. 

“Good,” you whisper, your cheeks warm. “Because I don’t want you to.” 

“Hi Jake,” your voice bright as you immediately pick up his call and see his face appear on the screen, his expression softening when he sees you. 

“Hey pretty,” he replies, without missing a beat, his voice laced with a soft fondness that never fails to make your stomach flip. 

You roll your eyes, failing miserably to hide the blush rising to your cheeks, “Oh, so now I’m pretty, huh?”

Jake smirks at your words, leaning closer to his phone, “Nah, you’ve always been pretty. Just didn’t have the guts to say it to your face before.”  

You groan, dramatically planting your face into your pillow as an attempt to bury the smile on your face, your voice muffled, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Jake.”

“Stop that, don’t hide. Let me see your face,” his tone dips somewhere between playful and pleading, and you give in, lifting your head just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your red cheeks. 

“Cute,” he says with a knowing grin, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. 

“Whatever,” you murmur, but the smile on your face remains. “How was your day today?” 

“Mmm, it was good,” Jake says, running a hand through his messy hair. “Busy, but good. I forget how loud the fans get each time. But it’s nice. Makes it feel worth it, you know?” 

“I’m glad,” your smile grows as you watch him speak, feeling nothing but proud of him. “You deserve all of it, Jake.” 

“Stop,” now he’s groaning, throwing a hand over his face to cover his shy expression. “You’re going to make me blush.” 

“Mm, looks like you already are, Jakey,” you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“Maybe a little,” he admits as he peeks at you through his fingers, his grin boyish and infectious, and you can’t help but laugh again. 

The call falls quiet for a moment, but it’s not awkward—just comfortable, like a shared breath. Jake shifts, turning on his stomach and propping his phone up against some pillows to make sure you can still see him. 

“I miss you,” he says suddenly, and there’s something raw in his tone, something unguarded that catches you off guard. 

Your heart stutters.

“Jake, I literally called you this morning,” you tease, your tone light and sweet. But still, you can’t resist, “I miss you too.”  

“You don’t sound convincing enough,” his eyes narrow at you, the pout forming on his lips quickly turning into a small smirk. “Say it like you mean it.” 

“Fine,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “I miss you so, so much Sim Jaeyun, that it’s physically painful and I might conbust on the spot if I don’t see you soon. Happy?” 

“Very,” he grins into the camera, making your heart beat faster. Ugh. "But please don't combust for me. Who else am I supposed to call every day?"  

"Oh, please, you'd survive," you shoot back, smirking. "I'm sure anyone else would be more than happy to fill the spot."  

Jake clicks his tongue, shaking his head dramatically. "Nope, no one could keep with you, Y/N. You're a handful."  

"Excuse me?" You scoff, mock offense all over your face. "You're calling me a handful? Jake, who's the one that texts me random song lyrics at 3AM and expects me to interpret their deep meaning like it's poetry?"  

"Okay, first of all, they are deep," he argues, his grin widening into something boyish and utterly unfair. "And second of all, I know you secretly love it."  

You let out a laugh as you roll onto your side, propping your phone against the pillow next to you.  

"Maybe I do," you admit with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant despite the smile on your face. "Or maybe I don't. That's up to you to find out."  

Jake shakes his head, laughing softly, his eyes twinkling as they linger on your face. 

"You really are a handful, Y/N," his voice teases while his eyes remain on you through the screen, as if studying you, and it makes your stomach flip.  

You glance away, suddenly feeling shy again under his unwavering gaze, "Stop looking at me like that."  

"Like what?" His voice is innocent, his eyebrows lifting in feign obliviousness.  

"I don't know—like you're trying to memorize my face or something," you mutter, your cheeks burning.  

"Maybe I am," his voice dips, low and soft. "Honestly wouldn't complain if that's the last thing I ever got to remember."  

His words hit you square in the chest, and despite how ridiculously corny they are, they manage to take your breath away. You don't know if you'll ever get used to this newly discovered side of Jake—the one that speaks so candidly, so sweetly—like you're the only person in his universe.  

But honestly? You love it. You love how he makes you feel, how his words wrap around you perfectly like they were tailor made just for you. But as much as you love it, you fear it too.  

Because the more you fall into this feeling, the more you wonder if there's anything solid beneath it. Despite all the soft words shared and sweet nothings exchanged, at the end of the day, deep down inside you can't help but ask yourself if his words, if he, is even yours to begin with. 

"Jake..."  

"Hmm?" His voice is gentle now, the teasing edge in his voice fading.  

"You really mean it, don't you?" You ask, your voice quieter now, the question laced with your vulnerability. "You're serious about...this? About us?"  

"Of course I am," he answers without hesitation. His soft eyes stay trained on you as he sits up in his spot in bed, as if to show just how serious he is. He lets out an exhale, as if mentally encouraging himself to continue, "I know we're not...whatever this is, officially yet. But I do know that I like what we have."  

He brings his phone closer, a small smile on his face, his expression earnest, "And that I like you. A lot."  

You swallow hard, his words settling in your chest in the best way possible. Because despite everything—the doubts, the undefined boundaries—you can't deny the truth of how you feel.  

"Me too," you admit, your voice steady and honest. "I like what we have too. And I like you."  

You pause, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you feel the remainders of your walls crumbling down, "You make me happy, Jake. Like annoyingly happy."  

"Good. Because you make me happy too," His smile spreads wide, the kind that is contagious and could light up an entire room. "Annoyingly happy, if we're being specific."  

You roll your eyes again, though you're smiling just as much, "We really are insufferable, aren't we?"  

"Oh, completely," Jake nods, his tone playful. He's more relaxed, back to leaning against his headboard as he looks at you with a softened gaze. "We'll figure it out, Y/N. I promise. Whatever this is, or whatever it becomes, I'm not going anywhere. And honestly? I just can't wait to see you. Finally."  

"Me too," you perk up, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you bring your phone closer, "It feels like it's been forever. This tour feels so much longer than the other ones for some reason."  

"It does," Jake hums in agreement, his eyes thoughtful. "But you know what? I think It's because, this time...I actually have something waiting for me. Something—or someone—I want to come home to. And that makes every day feel so much longer."  

You think, at this point, you should check yourself into the emergency department for the sheer amount of times you thought your heart was going to pound out of your body from Jake's words alone.  

“You're ridiculous," you laugh, the sound bubbling out so naturally you couldn't hold it back even if you tried. "It's getting kind of out of hand how cheesy you are, Jake."  

"And yet," he fires back with a smirk, "you love it. Admit it. I've cracked the code."  

"Maybe I do," you tease, repeating your words from earlier as the corners of your mouth tug up into a smile you can't suppress. "But don't let it get to your head."  

"Too late," he grins. "It's already there."  

Jake [2:15AM] : can I call you?   Y/N [2:16AM]: jake isnt it like 2AM for you?   Jake [2:16AM]: well…yea but I was thinking about you so… 

Your feet are kicking before you even realize, and before you can type up a response, your phone lights up with Jake's name and contact picture. 

“Hi,” you answer softly, trying not to let the giddy smile growing on your face take over. 

“Hey pretty,” he greets, voice warm and easy as he brings a hand through his messy hair. The lights in his room are off, and the dim glow of his phone screen casts a soft light over his features, making him look unfairly good for someone who should be fast asleep.  

“You have two seconds to give me a good reason why you’re here talking to me instead of getting a good night’s rest before your concert tomorrow,” your eyes narrow in mock disapproval as you give him a knowing look.  

Jake laughs lightly, “Hey! Okay, hear me out. I couldn’t sleep, so I did something.”  

You raise an eyebrow, “You did something? That sounds ominous, I’m scared.”  

“Yeah. For you,” he states plainly, leaving you even more confused for a second more before he continues. “I made you a playlist.”  

Your brain stalls at how simple he says it—so casual, as if not packed with so much meaning.  

“A playlist? You—wait, why?”  

Jake shrugs, “I don’t know—I guess I just wanted you to hear what I hear when I think about you. Which, by the way, is a lot. So..”  

You blink at the screen, your mouth slightly agape at the boy who's watching you with that lopsided grin that makes it practically impossible to function. You scramble to collect yourself, but the more you try, the worse it gets, and by now, you think he definitely took some secret class on how-to-make-Y/N-completely-flustered.  

And aced it.  

And of course, he notices—because Jake always notices.  

“You okay there?” His voice breaks you out of your overwhelming thoughts, his teasing tone laced with curiosity.  

“Define okay,” you mutter, rubbing a hand over your face in an attempt to cool down the warmth spreading like wildfire across your cheeks. “Because if it means not feeling like a complete fool over a guy who’s halfway across the world, then no, I’m absolutely not okay.”  

Jake lets out a low laugh, the sound affectionate as he leans closer to the camera, the light reflecting off his shining eyes, “If it helps, you’re not the only one losing your mind here.”  

“Oh yeah?” you arch an eyebrow, “What’s your excuse, Sim?”  

“My excuse?” He tilts his head with a small, exaggerated frown, pretending to think. “Hmm…let’s see…I’m hopelessly into this girl who somehow makes being teased fun, who makes me smile just by hearing my name come out her mouth, and who—“  

“Okay! Stop, stop, enough,” your voice strangled as you try to talk through the fit of giggles you couldn’t hold down. “You’re gonna kill me, Jake. Like, actually. I’m not strong enough for this.”  

Jake laughs at your flustered reaction, holding up a hand of surrender, “Fine, fine. But seriously, look.”  

You hear the sound of faint typing in the background before your phone buzzes with a text containing a link.  

“It’s called Songs That Remind Me of Y/N. Creative, right?”  

You open the link, and your thoughts are dazed at the sight of the endless playlist of songs. Some new to you, some you recognize—all of them feeling like little pieces of Jake's heart he's handing to you.  

"I think it's perfect," you murmur softly, scrolling through the titles, the warmth and appreciation for him now feeling almost too overwhelming.  

"Yeah?" Jake's eyes shine with a mixture of pride and hope as he watches your reaction.  

"Yeah," you repeat, switching your phone screen back to his face and giving him a genuine smile. "I love it. Thank you, Jake."  

Jake hums in response, the look on his eyes gentle as a beat of comfortable silence falls between you two.  

"Well, I should probably sleep for real now, but...listen to it when you miss me, okay? Because chances are, I'm probably doing the same."  

You pause, letting the weight of his words settle over you—vulnerable, yet undoubtedly honest. "Deal. I'll listen to it right now, then."  

"Good," his smile grows, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Because I am too. I miss you, too."  

You both linger for a moment, neither wanting to end the call just yet, simply enjoying each other's pure, raw presence.  

"Sweet dreams, Jake," you finally say, your voice gentle as you slowly let sleep take over. 

"Only if they’re about you," he quips, grinning.  

You roll your eyes, your chest feeling lighter, "Go to bed, Sim."  

"Yes, ma'am," he winks, and with one last fond look, he ends the call, leaving you smiling at your screen like the absolute fool he's turned you into.  

"I can't believe you're finally coming back tomorrow," you murmur into the phone, your voice soft but buzzing with excitement as you take in the sight of Jake sprawled out on his bed. The dim glow of his phone highlights just enough of his face to remind you how impossibly cute he is—even with the pillow creases on his cheek.  

"I know," Jake sighs dramatically, flopping onto his side. His head sinks into the pillow, and you hear a soft fwump as he shifts to find a comfortable spot. "I just wish I wasn't landing so late. If I could, I'd come see you the second I land. Like, bags in hand, running to your door."  

"You'd probably trip and knock yourself out with your carry-on, Jake," you snort but then smile, the imagine of Jake rushing to get to you playing in your head.  

"First of all, I'm very athletic," Jake raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Second, that's exactly what would happen, but at least I'd be unconscious on your doorstep, which is still closer to you than I've been in months."  

Your heart does a little flip at the sound of the sincerity in his voice as you try to keep your tone casual, "It's okay, Jake. I'm not going anywhere. We'll see each other the next day? If you're free, maybe."  

Jake's face softens in that stupidly adorable way he always does when he knows you're just trying to play it cool. "Free or not, I'll find a way. Nothing's stopping me from seeing you, Y/N. Not jet lag, not my schedule, not even my manager if he tries to barricade me in the building."  

A giggle escapes you, partly at his sheer determination and partly to cover up the butterflies constantly causing the havoc in your stomach when it comes to him. And Jake, of course, looks all smug, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. Typical Jake—sweet, determined, and impossibly endearing.  

But as much as his words make your cheeks warm, there's another reason why you're holding back your smile.  

Because, despite what Jake thinks, you're going to see him much sooner than he expects. All thanks to a message you got earlier from the group's manager:  

Y/N! Hope you’re doing well! We all miss you and can’t wait to see you soon! As you know, the boys are returning tomorrow late at night, but the staff and I want to plan a little surprise party at their apartment, they have no idea. The team’s already prepping everything. We’d love for you to come—it wouldn’t be the same without you. 10 PM! See you! 

You're practically vibrating with excitement, each passing minute on the call with Jake making it harder and harder to not just blurt it out and tell him you'll be seeing him in less than 24 hours. And, somehow, hearing his sleepy voice on the other side of the call, completely oblivious, just makes it even harder to contain yourself.  

Jake's brows furrow as he watches you try (and fail) to suppress your grin, "What's up with you? You're smiling so much, and I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything that funny."  

"Me?" You blink innocently, even though your heart skips a beat. But you shrug casually, masking your smile with a feigned yawn. "Nothing's up, you've just been acting too cute tonight. That's all."  

"You're lucky you're cute," Jake narrows his eyes at you, but even you can see through the dim lighting the red creeping across his face, "And that I'm tired. Or else I'd call you out for how you're gaslighting me right now."  

"Gaslighting?!" You sputter out, breaking out into laughter. "How am I gaslighting you for calling you cute?"  

"Because I know you're hiding something—" Jake replies, his pout audible in the way his voice drags. He yawns mid-sentence, the soft sound and the image of his eyes fluttering closed making your heart melt. "—and you're using my sleep-deprived state against me. It's not fair."  

"I'm not hiding anything!" You protest, your face one second away from cracking into a guilty smile. "Go to sleep—you're barely holding it together over there."  

"Like I'd ever fall asleep on you," he mutters, his voice heavy with drowsiness. "You're way too important for that."  

His words hit you like a train, and you have to physically restrain yourself from squealing, burying your face in your pillow before you let out a strangled, "Okay, enough sap for one night, Romeo. Go to bed."  

"Mmhm, fine, fine," Jake hums before he yawns again. "Goodnight, pretty. Dream sweet dreams, okay?"  

You let out a breath, losing the last remaining bits of your composure at this point—but in the best way possible, of course.  

"Goodnight, Jakey. I'll see you soon."  

The day flies by in a whirlwind of anticipation and sheer chaos, the emotional hurricane brewing up inside you rooting from one source and one source only.  

Because ever since you woke up this morning, every step, every sight, every breath was haunted by one inescapable thought: 

Jake.  

The morning was a blur of pacing around your room like a Sims character who was glitching after being told to "Go Here", overthinking every possible scenario for how tonight—when you finally see Jake in person—could go down.  

Because, really—how exactly do you approach the boy you've been friends with for years, who you've fallen for, in a room filled with people, including yours and his closest friends, all while pretending your heart is trying its hardest to not control, alt, delete itself?  

Not exactly something you can Google.  

Like, do you hug him? Does he hug you? What if he doesn't hug you? (Unacceptable, you decide, before pacing faster.)  

By the time afternoon rolls around, you're about 78% sure you've developed three-and-a-half migraines from the sheer pressure of it all. Not to mention, the borderline illegal amount of caffeine coursing through your veins isn't helping—why did you think drinking four cups of coffee was a good idea? (You didn't. Your brain has officially gone rogue.)  

And now, here you are. The buzzing apartment of the boys is alive with the sounds of laughter, the crinkle of party streamers being hung up, and two staff members arguing about where to put the over-dramatically large "WELCOME HOME" banner. You, along with everyone else, await for the signal, passing time by keeping up small conversation with the friends and staff you've gotten to know over the years—all the while you desperately try to keep your nerves from causing a mental crash out right here and now.  

Eventually, one of the staff gets the alert that the group has landed and is minutes away, the energy immediately shifting, both in the apartment and mentally. You settle in place in the back of the crowd, near the door but not too near the door—because 1) you're 99.99% sure you're not emotionally stable enough to be front and center, and 2) the staff and camera crew are already hogging the entrance as if this was the world's greatest comeback (and spoiler alert—to you, it really is.)  

The lights dim, the chatter fades, and the room hums with anticipation. And meanwhile? Your heart won't. Stop. Pounding.  

Any second now.  

Your nerves bubble up even more than you thought is humanly healthy, and you're not sure if you're about to a) pass out, b) puke, c) or both.

Simultaneously.  

The sound of multiple footsteps echoes faintly in the hallway, followed with muffled voices—one of them the unmistakable sound of Jake's laughter. Your breath catches.  

And then the door swings open.  

"SURPRISE!"  

The boys freeze in the doorway, their suitcases still in hand, the looks of genuine, yet pleasant, confusion plastered on all their faces. Sunghoon's eyes dart to the snacks table, Jay looks like he's deciding whether to laugh or roll his eyes, Sunoo is on the verge of tears, and Jake—Jake looks beautifully, stupidly confused.  

Your eyes immediately find Jake's face, like some natural gravitational pull you can't fight, and suddenly it hits you: he's here. In front of you. No blurry video calls, no glitchy Wi-Fi interruptions—just Jake.  

It feels surreal, like you're living in a sugar-induced dream that you aren't sure of is real yet or not. Last time you saw him in person, he was merely just Jake, one of your best friends, your go-to guy for bad jokes and late-night rants about life. But now? Now he's Jake—the boy who's somehow become the main character of your life (and brain capacity) over the past five months.  

Every memory of your late-night calls, every teasing smile, every time his sweet, groggy voice promised he'd prove himself to you—it all comes rushing back. Like those cheesy montage scenes in a rom-com, except instead of a whimsical romantic song playing in the background, it's the sound of your brain, and heart, screaming WHAT NOW Y/N?! 

But then, finally, his eyes land on you.  

The moment your eyes meet, you think your lungs give up on life. Breathing? Never heard of it. It's like someone hit the pause button on the entire universe, and you're convinced that the only thing to ever exist is Jake looking at you with that soft, unreadable expression.  

But you manage half a second of calm—half a second—before that softness on his face disappears. Just as quickly as it appeared, it's replaced by...something else. Something you can't quite put your finger on. Something you've never thought could exist on his face. A flicker of...conflict? Hesitation? Like he's staring straight at you…but also from miles away at the same time.  

His jaw tightens slightly—so slightly only you would notice with how intently you're looking at him—and for a split second, his hands fidgets at his side before he quickly clasps it over the handle of his suitcase. And right as you process it, right as you're about to convince yourself it's just the million grams of caffeine rushing through your blood that's making you hallucinate and see things— 

He looks away.  

He looks away.  

He looks away. As if you're not even standing there, as if he didn't just short-circuit your entire brain. His attention shifts to the nearest staff member, greeting them with a quick nod, and suddenly he's smiling and laughing at something they're saying like nothing just happened.  

And just like that, the universe hits the play button again, and you're left standing there—staring, blinking, wondering if the last thirty seconds of your life was, indeed, a caffeine-induced hallucination after all. Surely. Right?  

Because Jake definitely didn't avoid you on purpose. Nope. Because that would be insane. Insane, you think to yourself, as the invisible angel on your shoulder continues to whisper into your ear the same sweet words Jake's been telling you the past five months about how much he cares for you, how much he likes you—remember all those times he said it?  

Right. Right. Of course, he does. But still, you stand there frozen, trying to ground yourself, even though your hands start fidgeting at your sides anyway. Great. Fantastic. Cool, cool, cool. This is fine. 

You mentally curse yourself for not being closer to the door after all, and then, you mentally curse every single person in this room for not magically gaining telepathic powers and knowing that you, personally, were trying to have a moment.  

It's fine. You'll find him again. He's just too preoccupied with all the staff members and people to greet. Busy Jake. Social Jake. You're just imagining things. Definitely.  

Trying to distract yourself, you glance around the apartment, everything suddenly feeling suffocating. Maybe a snack. Maybe a drink. Maybe a portal to another dimension. 

Shaking your head out of your spiraling thoughts, you bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself and turn away from the crowd, quickly settling yourself near the beverage table, pouring yourself a cup of...whatever this is—your mind too cloudy to even bother looking at the sign on the table.

You don't know how much time passes, and frankly, you don't even know if you're fully conscious. Your mind is still living in the past, lingering in that moment where you locked eyes with Jake for the first time in five months, and despite all the overthinking you did this morning of all the possible scenarios that could happen—this was not one of them.  

You're about to pour yourself a second drink just to keep your thoughts busy when you feel a tap on your shoulder.  

"Y/N!"  

Before you can fully turn around, you're engulfed in a warm hug, the familiar scent of Jungwon's cologne immediately grounding you, "Oh god, I missed you. Took me forever to find you with all these people."  

"Jungwon!" You exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up your face despite the emotional tug-of-war in your chest, because, of course, leave it to your best friend to immediately ease your inner panic. You squeeze him back, playfully ruffling his hair as you pull away, "I can't believe they made you grow out your hair. Now you actually look older than me for once."  

He stares at you, blinking. "Y/N. I am older than you."  

"Literally by a week. We all know I'm mentally older," you deadpan, crossing your arms.  

"Okay, I take it back. I didn't miss you after all," he scoffs as you laugh, pulling him into another hug for good measure just to annoy him.  

"I'm so glad you guys are back," you say as Jungwon grabs the drink in your hand and takes a sip himself as he listens to you. "I was dying of boredom without you guys."  

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, "Uh-huh. Definitely didn't sound like boredom all those nights you called Jake at 2AM."  

You freeze. Oh. Great. The one topic you were trying to avoid (how you were going to avoid it—given you're at his literal apartment, with his literal group members, and literal staff members that all work for him—you're not sure. Avoidance was a doomed plan from the start, I fear).  

But before you could answer, Jungwon continues, "So...are you guys, like, a thing now? I know you guys were just talking this whole time, but now that we're back, are you guys gonna be in a relationship and all that stuff? Because if so, I need a heads-up. As much I love you both, I don't know if I can stand you two being all couple-y right in front of me—oh, and also—"  

"Jungwon." 

"—if he hurts you in any way, I swear to god I will not hesitate to—"  

"Jungwon!"  

He stops, wide-eyed, before flashing you a sheepish smile. "Sorry. But seriously, what's happening? You haven't given me any updates!"   

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. Because if he had asked you yesterday—or even an hour ago—you would've been able to answer confidently. But now? After Jake's apparent Olympic-level avoidance of you? You're not so sure anymore.  

"I...I don't know," you mumble, the words barely audible. Jungwon tilts his head, leaning closer to catch them.  

"What do you mean, you don't know? You guys haven't talked about it?" His brows furrowing as he studies your face, clearly picking up on your hesitation in true best friend fashion.  

"I, uh, I haven't...seen him yet," you admit, hoping the crack in your voice doesn't reveal the real reason you haven't approached the boy in question. "Everyone's busy, and I didn't want to get in the way."  

Jungwon gives you a look like you just said the earth is flat.  

"Get in the way? Y/N, you're insane. This is the guy who's been counting down the days to see you. If anything, everyone else is in his way."  

You give him a helpless shrug, but Jungwon isn't having it. He grabs your shoulders and spins you around, pointing across the room to one of the other snack tables past the crowds of people.

"Look. He's right there. Alone. Perfectly free to talk to you. Go."  

Your eyes land on Jake, back facing you and Jungwon, casually scooping chips into a bowl. You hesitate, scanning his relaxed posture, and the knot in your stomach tightens. Because that's exactly the problem. He's perfectly free. And if he's so excited to see you, how come he hasn't spoken to you yet?  

But before you can voice your doubts, Jungwon gives you a not-so-gentle nudge forward, "Go talk to him before I carry you over there myself."  

And next thing you know, Jake's right there. In front of you. His back is to you still, his eyes scanning the various snacks lined on the table, completely unaware of the full-on mental breakdown occurring just behind him.  

This is your moment, you tell yourself, despite the endless alarms going off in your brain. Every single nerve in your body is on high alert, screaming at you to abort mission, abort! But before you can give in to your panic, your hand is already reaching out, lightly tapping his shoulder.  

"Jake!"  

Jake turns around, and for a moment—a fleeting, fragile moment—you catch it. The way his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. The way his lips part as if they're about to break into that familiar smile you've missed for months. But just as quickly, similar to earlier, it vanishes, replaced by that flicker of hesitation, and it's enough to make your breath catch.  

"Y/N."  

Your name on his lips used to sound like a warm promise. Now?

Now it feels like an afterthought. 

His voice is calm, steady—too steady, stripped of every ounce of emotion, and not at all like someone who's been counting down the days to see you. He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze flickering to the crowd behind you before reluctantly meeting yours, "It's been so long."  

Your stomach sinks. That's all he had to say? You were completely wrong. You spent precisely 23 minutes of your morning debating if he was even going to give you a hug—but now? Screw the hug, he won't even give you a full sentence. Something's off, and your mind races to figure out what happened, as if you missed a major chapter of your own life.  

Trying to ignore the sharp pang of something lodging itself in your chest, you offer a small smile, hoping to break the tension.  

"Are you...okay? I thought...I don't know, I thought you'd be more excited to see me," the words spill out before you can stop them, and you want to crawl into a self-dug hole from how raw and vulnerable you feel.  

Jake shifts uncomfortably, glancing at the floor, then at you, "No, yeah, of course I am. I'm just...really tired. The flight, you know. And all this," he pauses to gesture at the environment around you two, "it's a lot."  

You stare at him in disbelief, waiting for him to crack—silently begging for some sign of the Jake you thought you knew. But all you get is a shrug.  

A shrug.  

Suddenly, his words feel like a punch to the gut, let alone the way he can't even fully look you in the eyes. In just those few seconds, the invisible angel on your shoulder—whose voice sounded just like Jake's—whispering those promises into your ears suddenly disappeared with no trace in sight, as if it was never there—as if it was never yours—in the first place. Every late-night call, every whispered promise, every shared laugh. 

As if they never belonged to you.  

You swallow hard, trying to keep the growing lump in your throat from choking you, hoping your emotional turmoil isn't blatantly obvious to the boy in front of you.  

"Right," you murmur, nodding as if his excuse makes perfect sense. But it doesn't. "That's...understandable."  

The silence that follows is suffocating. Not the comfortable kind of warm silence you two used to share, but the awkward, unbearable kind that makes you claw at your own skin and makes you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole right then and there.  

Jake shifts again, and for a moment, his eyes meet yours. There's something there—but before you can grasp it, a voice from the crowd calls his name.  

"I—I should go," he mutters quickly, stepping back. His voice is quiet, his tone almost apologetic, but his words feel like he's hammering the nails to your coffin. "I'll...see you later though, yeah?"  

He doesn't wait for an answer. He's gone before you can say anything, before you can process his words, and for the second time that night, he leaves you standing there with your heart in pieces and your thoughts in chaos.  

For a moment, you swear you're paralyzed. You can't move. Can't breathe. Your vision blurs as every doubt you'd buried for months comes rushing back, screaming in your face louder and crueler than ever. You've never felt smaller, more foolish.  

Your heart beats erratically now, fighting against the realization of the truth settling in your chest—a  heaviness so suffocating it threatens to take you under. The Jake who stood in front of you just now—guarded, distant, a stranger—was so unlike the boy who had made you laugh until your sides ached, who'd stayed up with you on countless late nights, sharing secrets no one else knew.  

The Jake who made promises.  

Your mind spirals. Maybe...maybe those promises were never meant to be kept. Maybe they were just words to fill the time.  

Maybe you were just someone to fill the time.  

Your breath starts to pick up and you're frantically scanning the room, desperate for an escape from your thoughts through any familiar face. Your eyes finally land on Ni-ki and Heeseung casually sitting on one of the couches, their carefree laughter a stark contrast to your inner implosion. You beeline to them, forcing a smile on your face as you plop down beside them.  

"Y/N!" Ni-ki grins the moment he spots you, scooting over to make room. "Where've you been hiding? Thought you ditched us for good."  

"I've been here,“ you give the boys a small smile, praying they don't notice the way your hands tremble as you sit down, “just...mingling."  

Heeseung raises an eyebrow at the faint crack in your voice, but doesn't push further, "Well, we all missed you. Pizza pig-out sesh and games tomorrow? You can tell us everything we've been missing out on."  

You laugh, trying to keep the conversation light, but it comes out shaky, your voice tight under the weight of your hidden emotions, "I think it's you guys who need to catch me up."  

Ni-ki tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at you, "Are you okay? You look...off. What—did someone spill punch on you? Lemme guess, was it Jake?"  

At his name, the knife in your stomach twists even deeper, and you look away, hoping they don't notice the way your face falls.  

But Heeseung notices. Of course. His gaze sharpens, the playful teasing in his expression replaced with a softened concern, "Y/N...what's going on?"  

"I'm fine," you reply a little too quickly, your voice a little too high. You plaster a smile on your face, turning back towards the two boys, concern written all over their faces. "Just tired. Long day."  

Neither of them look convinced, but before Heeseung can say anything else, Ni-ki nudges him and gestures towards something across the room.  

"Hey...isn't that—"  

You follow Ni-ki's gaze, and you immediately wish you didn't. 

Because just like that, your world crumbles.  

There she is—Jenn.  

You're not even wondering when she got here, how she got here, or even why she's here in the first place. No, not even.  

Because all that's occupying your mind right now is the way she's there, perched comfortably on Jake's lap on one of the couches in the distance, her arm draped casually over his shoulder.  

The way she's laughing freely at something he says, her hand lightly brushing against his as if it's second nature, her fingers briefly pushing a strand of hair away from his face.  

The way Jake doesn't even flinch, the way he doesn't pull away.  

The way he smiles at her.  

That same smile—the one you've spent weeks convincing yourself was yours—now feels like a cruel joke.  

And that does it. For the first time that night, despite all you endured, you shatter.  

You force yourself to look away, but it's too late. Your chest hollows out deeper and deeper with every passing second, until all you're left with is a final realization:  

Maybe you never really had him at all. He was never yours in the first place.  

Ni-ki and Heeseung exchange glances before looking at the expression on your face—all the color drained, as if you were merely just a body, paralyzed. Both of them open their mouths, but nothing comes out, clearly unsure of what to say, but you don't give them the chance. You're already standing, grabbing your bag at your side with trembling hands.  

"Y/N, wait—" Heeseung starts as both him and Ni-ki stand up with you, but you shake your head, his voice distant and muffled as if he's speaking to you underwater.  

"I need some air," you mumble, but you're sure neither of them hear you, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Before they can stop you, you're already weaving through the crowd, your vision blurring as you fight the overwhelming urge to break down. You stop at the door, your eyes quickly scanning the cluttered floor for your shoes. For a moment, you think you've made it—escaped the suffocating air and heartbreak clawing at your throat—but a mistake you didn't mean to make stills you.  

You glance over your shoulder, and there he is.  

Jake's eyes meet yours, and the world comes to a stop. His easy smile slips from his face and is immediately replaced by a flicker of panic, his brows drawing together as if he's just realized something, but you don't stick around to analyze it.  

Not when your heart is already in pieces on the floor.  

You quickly look the opposite way, fighting the sting of burning tears threatening to spill over as your fingers fumble desperately with the zipper of your coat when you hear a concerned voice from behind you.  

"Y/N?" Jungwon's familiar voice cuts through your haze, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "What—where are you going?"  

"Home," you whisper, avoiding his gaze as you finally manage to get your coat on, turning towards the door.  

Suddenly, Jungwon steps in front of you, a firm frown on his face, "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Talk to me—"  

"Jungwon, I need to go," you look up at him as your voice cracks for the nth time that night, feeling Jake's set of eyes on you still, "Please, Won."  

He hesitates, clearly confused but more worried over anything else, "Okay, but I'm driving you."  

You sigh, shaking your head, "No, it's fine—"  

"I'm driving you," Jungwon repeats, leaving no room for argument as he's already grabbing his coat and walking out the door.  

Not bothering to look behind you to see if Jake's still watching, you follow Jungwon out to the hallway, the chill of the air feeling like a fresh wave of emotions crashing over you all at once: embarrassment, anger, heartbreak.  

You're too caught up in your spinning thoughts to even notice the sound of frantic footsteps behind you until a voice cuts through the silence.  

"Y/N."  

His voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the muffled hum of music and laughter seeping from the party you should've escaped from a long time ago.  

But still, you hear it anyway—because of course you do. Because it's him. And no matter how much you wish you didn't, you'd silence the entire world just to hear that voice.  

And you hate it.  

You hate how your entire body freezes mid-step, you hate how every nerve within you comes alive at the sound of his voice, you hate how your heart stumbles, as if trying to root itself in the pain you've been trying so hard to outrun.  

You turn around slowly, against every ounce of logic telling you to keep walking. And when your eyes land on him—on the raw, desperate, almost broken look on his face—you hate yourself even more.  

Because even now, even after everything, your heart still sinks at the sight. And you hate how you give him the power to break you with just one look.  

“Can we talk?” Jake asks, his voice low and unsteady as he takes a small step towards you.  

From beside you, Jungwon hesitates, his gaze flickering between you and Jake. After a beat, he nods, "I'll get the car. Wait here."  

He spares Jake a final look of warning before nudging you for comfort and stepping into the elevator.  

The elevator doors close, leaving you and Jake alone in the hallway, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.  

You swallow hard, your throat tight, but you steel yourself, "What do you want, Jake?"  

You shift your weight and instinctively cross your arms, a defensive barrier between you and the boy you spent too long letting into your heart. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in them makes your resolve falter. 

He takes a hesitant step towards you before exhaling shakily, running a hand through his hair.  

“I—I messed up tonight. I didn’t mean to...," he trails off, his words fumbling, his eyes searching yours in desperation, his heart breaking at the way your tears are a second away from falling over. 

"...to completely ignore me all night? Make me feel like nothing?" You finish for him, your quiet voice breaking despite your attempt to stay composed.  

"No. God, no. You're not nothing," he says quickly, his voice faltering on the last word. "Y/N, you matter so much to me."  

“Well it definitely didn't feel that way,” your voice is barely audible, but you finally look up at him, the hurt finally bubbling to the surface. “After everything you said—promised, everything we talked about…” 

"I know, I just—" he hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. He takes a tentative step closer, his movements slow and careful, like he's afraid you'll break if he gets too close. "I was nervous." 

"It’s been so long, and I didn’t know what to say, how to act. I wanted to get it right—to make it perfect—but instead, I just—" he stops, dragging another frustrated hand through his hair. His eyebrows knit together in that familiar way that once made your heart flutter, but now only adds to the ache in your chest. 

You let out a hollow laugh, the bitter sound foreign even to your own ears, “Well, congratulations, Jake. You managed to mess it up anyway.” 

“Please,” he looks devastated, his hands trembling at his sides. “Y/N, please don’t think I don’t care about you. I do. More than you know. I just—I don't know how to do this. I panicked and I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."  

"Then why was...," you look at him, your eyes still stinging from all the unshed tears as you take a shaky breath, “...why was she all over you tonight? Why didn’t you stop her?” 

He falters, his shoulders slumping under the weight of your question, “It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t—I couldn’t—” 

“You couldn’t,” you echo, the words spilling out in a rush now, each one cutting him deeper. “I should've known. Let me guess, she wants to get back together, right?"  

Jake's silence is deafening, and it immediately answers your question. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. The way he looks at you—eyes wide and filled with regret, lips trembling as if searching for the right words—confirms everything you were afraid of. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, a shaky breath escaping your lips—a sound caught somewhere between a scoff and a choked sob. No matter how hard you try, the wall holding back your emotions cracks under the weight of it all. The doubts you’ve tried so hard to bury suddenly resurface, crashing over you like waves, each one carrying the sting of every insecurity, every fear you’ve ever had about this moment. Your chest feels tight, your heart splintering under the realization that everything you were afraid of might be true. 

"Jake, I can't do this," you whisper, shaking your head. "I can't be the person you lean on while you try to figure out what you want."  

"No, no—Y/N, I do know what I want," he pleads, his voice cracking as he tries to step closer. "And it’s you. Always been you, Y/N. Everything I said—I meant it."  

His words hang heavy in the air, the faint echo of the party music filtering through the cracks in the door and into the quiet hallway. You look away, refusing to let him see the way your tears finally spill over.  

"You promised," you let out softly and slowly, through your sniffles. “You promised you wouldn't hurt me. You said you'd prove that I could trust you, that I didn't have to be scared. You knew I was worried, Jake. And you...you hurt me anyways."  

"And I swear I meant every word I said. I still do," Jake says, his voice desperate as he shakes his head. He steps even closer, his hand reaching out and brushing against yours, but you pull back before he can close the distance. "You have to believe me. Please, Y/N. You're the only one."  

You shake your head again, the tears now freely rushing down your cheeks despite your best efforts, "I—I don't know if I can believe that anymore, Jake. I want to, I really, really do. But tonight..."  

Jake’s face falls, the weight of your pain crashing into him all at once. His lips tremble as he struggles to hold himself together, his eyes turning glassy themselves. The sight of you—broken, because of him—cuts deeper than he thought was humanly ever possible. His voice is barely above a whisper, raw and pleading, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I—God, please. Please give me a chance.” 

You look at him—at the boy who became your safe space these past few months—and all you feel is the ache in your heart.  

"I can't do this right now, Jake," you finally let out through your broken voice as you take a step back. "I think I just need space."  

The words hang in the air like a death sentence. His breath hitches as if your words physically hit him in the face, "Y/N..." 

Your phone suddenly buzzes, a text from Jungwon letting you know he's outside. You glance down at it, then back at Jake. For a moment, you hesitate, your heart screaming at you to stay—to give him the chance he's yearning for. But your brain knows better. 

"I have to go," you murmur softly, as you take a final step back, turning away before more tears threaten to spill all over again. You force yourself to keep walking, fighting the overwhelming urge to look back—to let him pull you into his arms, where you wished so desperately you belonged.  

Frozen, Jake watches helplessly as you walk away, his chest tightening with every step you take. Everything feels like it's caving in, regret clawing at him the more he lets you walk further away. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—but the words fail him, silenced by the weight of his own mistakes.  

To Jake, the sounds of the party are now far in the distance, drowned out by the pounding in this ears. Instead, the hallway falls into a haunting silence, broken only by the faint echo of your retreating steps—a cruel reminder of what he's just let slip away.  

The car ride starts in complete silence, the only sound between you and Jungwon the soft hum of his engine and the faint sound of whatever playlist he was playing in the background. You stare out the window, watching the city lights blur together, your coat clutched tightly under your grasp as if it's the only thing keeping you sane.  

Jungwon glances at you out the corner of his eye, his hands steady on the steering wheel. He doesn't say anything at first, but you know him well enough to sense the storm brewing in his head.  

"Okay," he finally says, as if on cue, breaking the silence. "Spill."  

You don't respond, your eyes still fixed on the surrounding city breezing by you, as if the passing view could somehow erase the memory of him. Your fingers dig further into the fabric of your coat, your knuckles going numb.  

Jungwon gives you a few more moments of silence, but when you don't make any sign of responding, he speaks up again. 

"Y/N," his voice softens, but the edge of his concern cuts through. "Don't do that thing where you shut people out. Especially me, you know I hate that."  

"I'm not—" you start, but your voice wavers, and the lie dies on the tip of your tongue.  

“You are," he exhales sharply from beside you, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Look, you don't have to tell me everything, but don't pretend you're fine when you're clearly not."  

The words sit heavy in the air as you swallow hard, your throat burning as you finally whisper, "It's stupid, Jungwon."  

He doesn't take his eyes off the road, but his tone is firm, "I'm sure if it's got you looking like this, it's not stupid."  

You want to argue, to tell him to just let it go, but the hurt pressing down on your chest is too much. The ache in your body threatens to take over again, and you hate it. You hate how the tears form again, how you can still see Jake looking at you like that, like you were breaking right in front of him and he didn't know how to stop it.  

Jungwon waits. He doesn't push, because he knows you. He knows you're just hurting, struggling to grasp your overwhelming emotions, so he gives you the time you need. But his quiet patience is unbearable, like he's peeling back every layer of your resolve just by being there, and eventually, you give in.  

"It's Jake," you finally choke out, the name tumbling from your lips like a curse.  

Jungwon doesn't respond immediately, but you can feel the shift in his demeanor. His jaw tightens, and his fingers flex against the wheel, "I figured as much honestly, after what I saw in the hallway, but what exactly happened, Y/N?"  

You shake your head, your voice shaky, "It doesn't matter. I—I just feel so stupid, Won. Like, how could I think..." 

You trail off, biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Jungwon gives you a softened glance, signaling you to continue whenever you're ready to.  

You take a deep breath before you speak up again, "How could I ever think I was good enough for him, you know?"  

There's a silence that follows after your words and you hear Jungwon take in a deep inhale.  

"This isn't on you, Y/N. This has nothing to do with whether you're enough or not," Jungwon's voice is steady, but there's a firm edge to it now. "Look, I don't want to overstep or anything...and I definitely don't want to vouch for him—especially right now but...are you sure he's not just freaking out?"  

You tilt your head over at the boy next to you, "Freaking out about what?"  

"You," Jungwon says simply like it's the most obvious thing in the world.  

"That doesn't make any sense," you start shaking your head. "Why would he—"  

"Because you're you," Jungwon interrupts, his tone matter-of-fact as he keeps his eyes trained on the road in front of him. "And Jake's a complete idiot, but even idiots get scared when they care about someone as much as he clearly cares about you."  

You blink, Jungwon's words sinking into all the cracks formed within you, "You really think he cares about me that much?"  

“Are you kidding?” Jungwon scoffs, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/N, the guy looks at you like you hung his moon and stars. Trust me, I’ve seen it.” 

And you don't know what comes over you, but Jungwon's words hit you like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the tears you've been holding back come rushing forward, hot and relentless. You cover your face with your hands, your body shaking as the sobs you've been swallowing all night finally make their way out.  

Jungwon quickly looks over at you and, without hesitation, glances over his shoulder to pull over to the side of the road, the soft clicking of the hazard lights mixing in with your cries. When he finally puts the car in park, he doesn't say anything and just leans back in his seat, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder—close enough to remind you he's there, but not too much to smother you.  

"I'm sorry," you manage to gasp out between sobs, your hands going up to wipe your face as all the overwhelming emotions finally take over you.  

"Don't," Jungwon says firmly, "Don't apologize for feeling like this."  

You take a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together as your sobs eventually start to slow down, "I just don't understand. If he cares so much, why does this hurt so bad?"  

"I don't think it's about how much he cares," Jungwon sighs, as if carrying your pain alongside you. "Sometimes...sometimes people care so much that they don't know what to do with it. They panic. They overthink. And they mess up in the worst ways because they don't know how to handle what they're feeling."  

You look up at him, your face still wet with tears, "So you're saying it's an excuse."  

"No," Jungwon replies, quickly shaking his head fervently. "Definitely not an excuse. Jake screwed up, Y/N. Big time. And it's 100% on him to fix that, not you. But—"  

He pauses and thinks for a second, his words deliberate, "—it doesn't mean his feelings aren't real. Or that he doesn't care about you."  

You look away, glancing down at your hands in your lap, fiddling with the hem of your coat as you take in Jungwon's words.  

"It's just feels like...like I'm the only one who got hurt here, Won. Like I'm the only one who..," you trail off, unable to form your thoughts into a coherent sentence, but leave it up to Jungwon to always fully understand you.  

"You're not the only one," he says softly. "He's hurting too, Y/N. Maybe not in the same way, and maybe he doesn't deserve any sympathy, but I can see it. I've seen it. Jake...Jake isn't Jake without you. And honestly? That idiot is probably tearing himself apart right now."  

Your lips part, but the words don't find you. Instead, you let the weight of Jungwon's words sink in, unsure what to do with how true they may be.  

"You don't have to forgive him right now," Jungwon adds after a moment. "Hell, you don't even have to forgive him at all. Honestly, that might satisfy me just a bit. But maybe...maybe you owe it to yourself to hear him out. Not for him, but for you."  

You turn to Jungwon, your lips forming into the smallest pout, "But what if it just makes everything worse?"  

He gives you a faint, grounding smile, equal parts reassuring and honest.  

"Then you walk away knowing you did everything you could—for yourself. And if it does come to that," he shrugs lightly, "we'll figure it out together."  

You're quiet for a long moment, the thought of walking away from Jake and everything he means to you terrifying you…but you know Jungwon's right. You owe yourself the chance to try—even if the unknown outcome fails you.  

With a shaky breath, you nod, brushing away the last of your tears, "Thanks, Jungwon."  

"You're welcome," Jungwon hums in acknowledgement before his lips curve into a small grin, the atmosphere lightening slightly, "but, uh, could you at least use the tissues in the glove compartment before my seats turn into a snot rag?"  

You manage to let out a small scoff of disbelief as you roll your watery eyes, "You're the worst."  

"Nah," Jungwon replies with a cheeky grin as he shifts the car back into drive, but not before he reaches over to ruffle your hair playfully. "C'mon. Let's get you home."  

The knocking at Jungwon’s door comes at the worst possible moment. 

He’s halfway through organizing his desk—something he only attempts when he’s too frustrated to sit still—and the last thing he expects to see when he swings the door open is Jake, standing there looking like he hasn’t slept a millisecond all night. 

Jungwon makes no sign of saying anything or making a move, just staring at the older boy in question. Jakes shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his messy hair, not used to seeing Jungwon in this sour, expressionless mood.  

"Hey," Jake finally says, his voice hesitant.  

“What do you want?” Jungwon deadpans, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He knows he sounds harsh, but, frankly, he doesn’t care.  

Jake falters for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground, "I...I need your help."  

Jungwon's eyes narrow, "With what, exactly?"  

He knows what, but he's not letting Jake off that easily. Not after last night.  

"With Y/N," your name hangs in the air between them as Jake's voice cracks, and Jungwon clenches his jaw before he lets out a frustrated sigh.  

"I don't think you're in any position to be asking me for help right now."  

"I know," Jake says quickly, his hands raising in surrender. "I know, okay? I screwed up big time. I—God, I don't even know where to start, Jungwon. I just...I don't want to make things worse."  

Jungwon lets out a bitter, humorless laugh, stepping back and motioning his head to let Jake enter his room, "You've already got a good head start on that, I see."  

Jake steps inside, awkwardly hovering near the door as Jungwon moves to sit on the edge of his own bed. He doesn't offer Jake a seat, and Jake doesn't ask for one.  

"She cried, you know," Jungwon says after a few moments of silence, his voice stone cold. "I had to pull over because she couldn't even hold it together long enough for me to get her home. I've known her my entire life, and I don't think I've ever seen her cry that hard, Jake."  

Jake flinches, the words physically hurting him, "I didn't mean to—"  

"Yeah, I know," the younger boy cuts him off, his voice sharp, his anger rising on behalf of you. "You didn't mean to hurt her. But you did. And now you're asking me to help you fix it like it's that easy."  

"It's not easy," Jake mutters quietly, his hands fumbling with the edge of his hoodie. "Nothing about this...none of it is easy. But I know I messed up, and I—I can't just leave things like this, I can't lose her, Jungwon. I care about her too much."  

Jungwon deadpans at his friend, fighting back the urge to scoff in his face, "If you cared about her, you wouldn't have let her walk out of that party looking like her entire world was falling apart."  

Jake looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with something Jungwon can't quite name...desperation, maybe. Or guilt. Or both.  

"I didn't know what to do," Jake finally admits, his voice still barely above a whisper, as if admitting to himself for the first time, too. "I saw her, and she looked so...broken. And I—I panicked, I didn't know what to do, and by the time I realized, she was gone."  

Jungwon leans back, groaning as he runs a hand over his face. The anger bubbling within him hasn't fully faded, but he knows there's something else now—something softer, something that makes it harder to keep his protective guard for you up.  

Because he knows Jake isn't lying.  

"You don't get to half-ass this, Jake," Jungwon finally says after he thinks to himself. "She's not some random girl you're trying to impress, she isn't Jenn. This is Y/N. If you want to fix things, you have to be ready to own up to everything. No excuses, no backing out. She deserves that much."  

Jake nods quickly, his eyes wide and hopeful at Jungwon's slight change in demeanor, “I will. I swear, I will.” 

"And don't think she's going to forgive you right away," Jungwon adds. "She's hurt. You have to give her time. This isn't about what you want—it's about what she needs."  

Jake swallows hard, nodding again, “I just want to talk to her. To explain. To tell her I’m sorry and—”  

His voice cracks, and he looks down, his hands trembling slightly. Jungwon lets out a sigh, his mixed feelings turning more into something closer to pity. Because as much as he wants to stay mad for your sake, he's known Jake long enough to know that he's a good guy—and that his heart is in the right place.  

But even more than that, he knows you. And he knows how much Jake means to you, even if you won't admit it, especially not now more than ever.  

"You're actually an idiot," Jungwon says after a few beats, his voice carrying a lighter tone now. "But for some godforsaken reason, knowing her, I think she might actually miss you."  

Jake looks up from his hands, his eyes searching Jungwon's face for any flicker of doubt, "You really think so?"  

Jungwon shrugs, standing up and moving towards his door, "I think you've got a lot of work to do if you want to earn her trust back. But...I think you still have a chance."  

Jake doesn't say anything as he follows Jungwon to the door, but the look on his face says enough—there's a new slight look of hope. It's small, but he's clutching onto it like it’s his lifeline.  

“You know," Jungwon says when he reaches the doorway. "Y/N’s not the type to let people in easily. She puts up walls—but with you…she let them down. You’re special to her, Jake, even if she doesn’t say it. Don’t throw that away. For her sake, and yours.” 

“I won’t,” Jake promises, his voice steady now. “Thank you, Jungwon.” 

Jungwon nods at the older boy before giving him a faint smile, "And just so you know, I defended you yesterday. So don't prove me wrong or I'm actually going to deck you."  

Jake lets out a weak laugh as he hangs outside Jungwon's door, "Noted. I promise I won't let her down again."  

Jungwon doesn’t respond, just closes the door with a soft click, and hopes—for all their sakes—that Jake means it.  

Jake [5:12PM]: hi Y/N   Jake [5:12PM]: i know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now. and i don’t blame you at all   Jake [5:13PM]: but i cant just stay silent and let this sit between us, and i value you too much to not respect you needing space and just show up at your door  Jake [5:14PM]: even though it’s killing me to stay away  Jake [5:14PM]: after you left the party last night, i went back inside. i told jenn that whatever we had in the past is exactly that, the past. and i swear to you, Y/N, there’s nothing between us. there hasn’t been for a long time. and it’s my fault for making it seem otherwise.   Jake [5:15PM]: and as for how i acted…i don’t even know where to start. i fucked up extremely. nothing will excuse my actions and i don’t expect you to forgive me. but i need to apologize properly, you deserve that much.   Jake [5:17PM]: please let me see you, Y/N. i don’t deserve it, and i don’t deserve you. but you mean everything to me, and i hate that i hurt you. and i promise, if you let me, i’ll do everything to make it up to you.  

You stare at the phone in your hand, the messages feeling like salt to an open wound. The words on the screen begin to blur together as tears prick your eyes, spilling over before you even realize it. You don't bother wiping them away—the sting in your chest too raw, too heavy. Each word feels like Jake is standing right there in front of you, his voice soft and broken, tangled with regret.  

You tell yourself to stop reading. You've already gone through the same messages at least a hundred times in the past ten minutes, overanalyzing each syllable as if they hold the answers to all of your questions.  

And yet, you can't stop.  

You want to be angry. You are angry. Or, at least, you think. Because beneath the flame of your anger that's already threatening to die out? There's an ache you can't ignore—a small, stubborn part of you that refuses to let go to the sincerity in his words, clinging onto the hope that he's telling you the truth.  

You mean everything to me, and I hate that I hurt you. I promise, if you let me, I'll do everything to make it up to you.  

The ache twists harder, curling into doubt. What if he means it? What if he's telling the truth?  

But of course, the fear rises just as quickly. Because what if he's not? What if you let him back in, and it all falls apart again? What if you let yourself believe in him, giving him the second chance he's asking for, only to have your heart shattered worse than before?  

And then, there's Jungwon's voice, soft but steady, cutting through the chaos brewing in your mind: "Even idiots get scared when they care about someone as much as he clearly cares about you."  

Your breath catches.  

Because that's the worst part. Knowing that maybe—just maybe—Jake really does care. Knowing that maybe he's telling the truth—and you're the one too afraid to take the risk, ready to build up the walls Jake's managed to get through.  

Your phone screen suddenly dims, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. You blink rapidly, wiping at your face, your mind a mess of emotions you can't untangle or describe.  

Fear. Hope. Doubt. 

And something else—something you're afraid to admit, but you know is unmistakably real.  

And it's stronger than the fear churning in your chest—it's something that's pulling you forward.  

Your heart pounds almost out of your rib cage as you let out a shaky breath, the weight on your shoulders pressing harder and harder with every second you hesitate. The ache doesn't let up, but neither does your hope.  

So you stop thinking altogether, letting your heart take control instead.  

You shut your eyes, as if bracing yourself for a crash, take a deep breath, unlock your phone, and let your fingers fly across the screen, each word feeling like a leap off a cliff.  

You hit send.  

Y/N [5:30PM]: hi jake  Y/N [5:30PM]: you can come over 

The soft knock at your door startles you, even though you know it’s coming.  

“Y/N?” 

His voice. Jake’s voice.  

Your heart clenches painfully, a conflicting mix of longing and hurt washing over you all at once. It hasn't even been a full day since the party, but the weight of his absence has already hollowed you out, leaving a hole you can't ignore. You know he's the one who caused it—that the cracks in your heart are his doing—but at the same time, the stubborn part of you whispers that he's also the only one who can mend them.  

You make your way to the door, your movements hesitant as you crack it open, peek out, and...there he is.  

"Hi," Jake says softly.  

He's a mess. A beautiful, saddened mess—his hair messy, like he's been running his hands through it all day, his eyes rimmed with the kind of exhaustion that isn't just physical. One hand is buried deep in his jacket, and in the other— 

"Flowers?" You ask, raising a brow in surprise.  

Jake's ears turn red. "Yeah. Uh, I didn't know if you had a favorite, so I got—"  

You open the door wider, revealing the full bouquet—daisies, tulips, roses, all wrapped together in crinkled tissue paper.  

"—a little bit of everything," he finishes awkwardly, his voice trailing off, pausing for a second before holding them out to you with a sheepish smile.  

Your lips twitch subconsciously, despite everything.  

"Jake, you're literally allergic."  

His mouth opens, then closes, the redness from his ears now spreading to his cheeks.  

"Well, yeah, but—," Jake mumbles, shifting on his feet. "—not, like, deadly or anything dramatic like that."  

He pauses, his voice dropping into something softer, more vulnerable, "I just wanted you to have them. That's all."  

You feel your insides tighten, the sincerity in his voice getting to you. For a moment, all you can manage to do is stare at him—at the way his eyes are silently pleading, wide and unsure.  

You hesitate for a second, then step back and open the door wider.  

"Thank you," you say quietly, your fingers brushing against his as you take the bouquet, sending a flicker of warmth through you. "Come in."  

Jake hesitates, his eyes searching yours like he's not sure if he's actually allowed to. When you turn away and walk towards your kitchen, he finally steps inside, kicking off his shoes quickly and hovering by the door like he doesn't know what to expect next.  

You set the flowers down on the counter, adjusting them carefully before turning back to him. He's still standing there, stiff and uncertain, the distance between you feeling larger than ever before.  

"So..." You say, crossing your arms tightly across yourself, shifting your weight as a way to ground yourself—though the lump in your throat makes it feel impossible.  

Jake exhales shakily, his hands fidgeting by his sides and gaze darting to the floor before finally landing on you, "I came to apologize. Properly."  

You blink at him, expression unreadable, "You already said sorry."  

Your voice comes out sharper than intended, surprising even yourself, but the words leave before you can stop them. Jake flinches, just slightly, but he nods, knowing he deserved that. 

"Not like I should have," he says, stepping closer, his voice low and careful, like he's afraid you'll run out of your own apartment. "I know I messed up. I hurt you, and I hate that I did. I hate that I made you feel like you weren't enough or that someone else could ever compare to you, Y/N."  

Your arms tighten around yourself as if the words might knock the breath out of you as look away, unsure if you can meet the rawness in his eyes.  

"Last night," Jake continues, his eyes filling with guilt, "I didn't handle last night right. And not just how I handled Jenn, but I let my own insecurities and stupid fears of being perfect for you get in the way. I let it happen and mess everything up. I let you think that you didn't matter to me, and I will never forgive myself, Y/N."  

His words hang in the air, heavy yet sincere, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him as you process his words slowly.  

"And I don't expect you to forgive me either, Y/N," Jake's voice wavers before he continues, "but I need you to know that I'm so, so sorry. No excuses. For all of it—for making you feel like anything less than everything, for making you feel like you weren't my first choice. Because you are. You're my only, Y/N." 

His words hit you with a force that crashes over the walls you tried so desperately to build. They're overwhelming yet tender, like rediscovering a piece of yourself you hadn't even realized you lost. And you want to let them comfort you, you do. But the pain from last night lingers deep down, reminding you of why you built those walls in the first place.  

For a moment, the silence stretches on longer than you intend, the weight of his words settling in the air between you. Jake doesn't look away though—his gaze unwavering, vulnerable, and raw.  

As though he's laid himself bare before you, giving you the power to either accept or shatter him completely.  

When you finally find your voice, it trembles despite your best efforts, "Jake...I don't know if I can just forget what happened."  

"I'm not asking you to forget," he says quickly, taking another step closer until there's only a few feet left between you. "I just want the chance to fix us. I can't lose you like this, Y/N."  

Your breath catches at the proximity, his presence pulling you in like gravity. The pain from last night tries to claw its way back into your heart—sharp and bitter—but his warmth reminds you of something else that refuses to be ignored.  

That flicker of hope that's demanding your attention, screaming at you to just let him in—not just for his sake, but for you. 

You take a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. "Jake, I don't need you to...to be this perfect person. I don't need you to prove anything to me."  

You pause, pushing past the lump in your throat, "Because since the beginning, I always believed you. And...I think I still do. Even after last night, I still believe you, Jake. No matter how hard I try to."  

Jake lets out a breath he thinks he's been holding in for hours, "Really?"  

"Yeah," you nod slowly, as if reassuring yourself as much as him. "But I don't need any of your promises or proof or any of that. I just...I just need you as you."  

His eyes soften at you as he nods so quickly it's almost desperate.   

"And I need you to be honest with me, Jake," you continue before he can speak. "If we do this, I need to know I can trust you. Because I don't know if I can do this...this waiting game anymore."  

"You can," he says immediately, closing the distance between you two, making your breath hitch. You can see the way his hands are trembling, the slight quiver in his lips. "You can trust me. No more hesitation. I'm all in, Y/N. This is it for me, you're it."   

You search his face for any sign of doubt, any speck of hesitation. But all you find is his sincerity—so hopeful and so real—the kind that makes you want to let him in fully and let your walls crumble all over again.  

So you do.  

"Okay," you say softly, almost as if you're testing the word.  

Jake's eyes widen, the relief and hope flooding his features. Slowly, as if asking for permission, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours tentatively.  

"Okay?" He whispers, his voice barely audible to you as his eyes flicker between your hands and your face.  

You nod, your own hand turning over so your fingers curl around his in an instinctive gesture that feels so natural it makes you want to scream. The warmth of his touch feels like the first real comfort you've felt in forever, and it's enough to make your resolve slip.  

"But," you add softly, your eyes not leaving the way his hand wraps around yours so perfectly, "this doesn't mean everything's fine. We need to talk. We need to figure out where we stand, and where we go from there."  

Jake nods again, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, "We will. Whatever it takes, Y/N, I'll do it. I need you to know how much you mean to me and I'll never stop trying to show you that."  

You let out a shaky breath as you take in his words, finally looking up from your intertwined hands to meet his eyes, your own slowly filling with the tears you've been holding back. 

"You really hurt me, Jake," you say quietly, your voice breaking from the sheer weight of your vulnerability being laid bare.  

Jake's face crumbles instantly, guilt etched into every line of his expression. Without hesitation, his free hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb light brushing away the tears that fall, as if he's afraid you might pull away.  

Your eyes flutter closed at the warmth of his hand, and despite the emotions raging inside you, you let yourself lean into him. It feels both reckless, yet inevitable, like free-falling and trusting—knowing—he'll catch you.  

"I know," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion he can't swallow down. "And I'll spend as long as it takes to deserve you, Y/N. I'll never make you feel like that again."  

You nod weakly, and before you can think too much, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the safety of his chest, his chin moving to rest on top of your head as his warmth envelops you completely.  

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself break, burying your face into his chest as the tears flow freely, the weight of everything finally breaking free as you let yourself melt into his tight embrace.  

It's not perfect. It's not a fix-all.  

But as Jake holds you close, whispering quiet reassurances into your hair, you know it's a start.  

And a start is all you need.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

epilogue:

“Hi, pretty.”  

“Hi, Jake.”

On the other end of the call, Jake lets out a playful scoff. Even with the slight lag, you can see his lips twitch into that familiar pout—the one that still gives you butterflies, no matter how many times you've see it now, even a year later.

“After all we’ve been through, you still won’t give me a cute pet name?” 

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin, “What do you want me to say? Hi, my handsome, perfect, kindest, funniest, boyfriend in the whole wide world?”  

Jake leans closer to the camera, his expression completely serious as if you should already know his answer, "...Yes." 

Giggles burst out of you, shaking your head at his antics. “You’re too cute to be doing all that, Jake. Pick a struggle.” 

He clutches his chest dramatically, “You know, what? You’re my struggle—I fly across time zones, run on three hours of sleep, and you still won’t give me a crumb of your affection?” 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And yet…,” Jake trails off with a teasing smirk, his voice dropping into that playful, yet low lilt that still makes your stomach flip to this day. "Here you are, calling me at 1AM in the morning.”  

Your cheeks flush as you glance away from the screen, trying to ignore the way his teasing gaze makes you feel, "Don’t' get confused, it's not like I wanted to or anything. I just figured someone should remind you to go to bed or else you'll look like a zombie tomorrow at the fanmeet."  

Jake laughs softly, the sound grounding you in a certain way only he ever can. "You're so thoughtful, babe. My number-one hater and number-one fan, all at once. I'm so lucky."  

You send him an air kiss, the teasing grin on your face mirrored by the fond one tugging at his lips. He looks at you like he did in that first-ever call way back then—like you're his whole world, and he can't believe you're real.  

"How's the jet lag this time?" You ask, steering the conversation to safer ground.  

"It's not so bad," he shrugs, despite the clear exhaustion in his voice. "At least this trip is only for a few days. Then I can come back to the comfort of our bed."  

You raise an eyebrow, "My bed."  

Jake's eyes narrow, "Our bed. Just admit it—you miss me."  

You pause. "Maybe. Just a little."  

His grin widens, and for a moment, neither of you say anything, the conversation lulling into an easy silence—the kind of warmth that only comes with knowing someone so well.  

Finally, you shift under your blanket, getting comfortable as Jake watches you through this screen, his gaze tender, as though memorizing the curve of your smile, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear.  

"You should sleep," you murmur, holding your phone closer to your face. The glow of your phone reflecting off your soft features sends palpations to Jake's chest so loud he almost doesn't hear your words. 

"Mm, I really should," Jake sighs, though he doesn't move an inch. "I'll talk to you soon, yeah?" 

"Mmhm," you hum, your eyes closing at the softness of his voice.  

“Sleep tight. I love you,” his says, voice soft and deliberate, making sure you feel every word. 

“Goodnight, Jakey,” you tease, letting the smirk creep into your voice, peeking an eye open just to catch his reaction. 

Jake groans dramatically, running a hand down his face, “Y/N…not this again.”  

You giggle, the fondness within you growing tenfold as you take in his face—the slight pout of his lips, his messy hair, his eyes shining with unwavering adoration for you. 

“I said I love youuu,” he whines, dragging out the last word, his lips tugging into the tiniest of smiles, his entire universe reflecting from his eyes.  

Finally, you give in, smiling sweetly.  

“I love you, too, Jake. You already know.”  

And you’ve never meant anything more.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Songs that Remind me of Y/N:

From the first call to forever—you've always been my favorite melody.   Yours, Jake <3

"As I Am" – Justin Bieber (ft. Khalid)  

"Daylight" – Taylor Swift 

"DIE 4 YOU" - Dean 

"Psycho, Pt. 2" – Russ 

"Heaven" – Bazzi 

"Every Kind of Way" – H.E.R. 

"Off My Face" – Justin Bieber 

"Before You" – Benson Boone 

"Sunflower" – Post Malone & Swae Lee 

"Pink + White" – Frank Ocean

"No Doubt" – Enhypen <3 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! if you made it all the way, this is for you:

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡♡♡♡♡♡

p.s. i wanted to leave the ending kinda up to interpretation—hence the time skip to a year later..but lowkey what if i wrote short drabbles/scenes of things jake does to gain Y/N's trust again, from small to big gestures etc etc..lmk if that's something anyone would wanna see !!

<3, addie

m.list here!

tag list (love you all <3):

(i hope it let me tag everyone!)

@thesassy-mia @ikeulove @renaishun @xylatox @puma-riki @blackberryrains @dreamiestay @junislqve @lamin143 @dreamy-carat @etherealhan @vvenusoncasual @belovedsthings @somuchdard @sumzysworld @mirouie @almondtofu006 @fancypeacepersona @vivimura @hollxe1 @missthang600 @sugarikiz @sanasour @enhamonsterghoul @etherealriki

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Agatha all along spoilers

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Okay okay sure

First off! I’ve seen people on Twitter already going mad but I think I need people to understand, this show was never targeted at a specific lesbian ending, yes! Very queer show and of course lots of Agathario but Rio is death, I always thought a kiss of death would happen because otherwise we’re being silly with ourselves it’s not queer baiting and it’s not helpful to be mad because marvel wont want to do things like this again if we start getting angry, the cast and crew were so proud of this and we should be too (we can vent a little and I plan too but I won’t tag actors or creators because I’m not weird)

But! I will say dying for Billy (technically I know she did because of Nicky because Billy got into her mind like a loser and a bitch and she wanted to redeem herself or whatever) is a bit strange I guess I get people saying ‘oh well of course lesbians get screwed over’ but you know for a marvel show to have actual canon lesbians who are kissing, yeah it’s scraping a barrel but if it’s received well I have no doubt they’ll do it again, I mean in the comics agatha gets resurrected and who’s to say that won’t happen? Anyway I’m ranting and yeah a little sad about the ending because it does feel like the killing eve ending but! Let’s get into the two episodes

Alice! My love, my baby I’m so sorry! Rio was right you died doing your job as a protection witch but it still hurts! I hope the afterlife is good to you and treats you well I love you 🥰

Jen! My beloved you did it! You got your powers back, I can’t believe agatha bound her that’s so funny and messed up! God agatha were you that low on cash???

“He’s an abomination” Damn right Rio get him!

Also the change in agatha a little about not wanting to see Rio when she died like yeah it’s a quick change but I think it’s Agatha putting her shields back up, she does want Rio back she definitely does but also it’s like ‘oh actually I’m putting my guard back up because I’m scared and you did something that hurt me’ (she is my scar!)

Rio being pissed off that agatha doesn’t want her and that she loves it when she’s like this unfortunately ladies this foreplay went a little too far and got ruined by a man (fucking typical) them basically flirting through their whole fight was great too

Also going back to episode 1 where Rio said ‘so take my power’ and Agatha replied ‘cute, but you know that would kill me’ BECAUSE SHE HAD TO KISS HER TO TAKE HER POWER! Did I get it right? Pretty sure I did so I declare that in their private moments agatha never kissed Rio but just started at her neck so not to accidentally kill herself during sex (dramatic lesbians)

Also in ep 4 when Agatha tries kissing Rio but then Rio stops her, I have a depressing feeling that Agatha was so upset at being reminded of what happened to her son she was willing to take the kiss of death I guess? Or maybe Rio can control stuff like that and kiss Agatha fine if she holds her power in but thinking she’s death I think it’s the first one

Rio cutting the road and stepping through I’m not gonna lie I was shocked! I gasped guys and I don’t do that often like obviously they knew was fake but I didn’t I love just thinking about Rio stepping in and out of the road but also where is the ‘road’? Is it just Agatha’s house? Have they been walking around in circles this whole time, god the citizens of westview may need to start looking for other places to live

The Salem era! I loved it (I do want more backstory but I think we’ll get some interviews explaining it so that’ll be fun) ‘born from scratch’ beautiful line Rio turning up I was like ‘oh daddy’s here to help with the birth’ then I quickly remembered she’s death and agatha begging not to take him and then I realised daddy isn’t here to stay for good reasons (like most dads)

Little Nicky was adorable! Such a cute kid and helping his mother trick witches? Putting him to work agatha, I like it! Start them early I say

Also they created the balled! So cute and heartbreaking since Agatha had to sing it all the time when killing these witches constantly being reminded of her son

Also her killing everyday then the one night she doesn’t rio takes their son??? God Rio give her a fucking day don’t you have like billions of other souls to take?? Just walk very slowly 🙄

Billy carrying the trauma of killing three (that’s right I count Sharon too!) witches because he created the road makes the ending worth it actually (not by much) because he has to suffer the consequences and deal with ghost agatha, get recked!

Rio and Agatha will definitely reunite (source: Me) Rio says she hates ghosts but only because she’s death and ghosts probably don’t want to move on, be a bit like trying to round up cats. HER AND AGATHA CAN FINALLY WALK TOGETHER FOR ALL ETERNITY

Anyway I have work in an hour and I’ve been up since 4 it’s now 6 and I’ve slept about 3 hours soooo if this is all ramblings I’ll try to add things later but yeah I loved the last two episodes yeah we could’ve gotten a bit more Agathario but I truly think they didn’t anticipate the overwhelming reception for them (Kathryn and Aubrey did though definitely)

I’m up for any discussion too I love talking about this stuff but works been hectic recently hence why I’m watching the episodes before work because after I’m just knackered but I’m off this weekend so I can reply properly to people

[yua-nism]

I saw your tags and I’m now very intrigued like what do you mean yuhan has the SHORTEST TRAGIC BACKSTORY?!?! JUST WHAT IS GOING ON?? like granted I should have known a game about devil cat butlers would have some angst and tragic backstories but god damn 😭😭

there was a miscalculation on my part and yuuhan's is in fact, not the one with the shortest backstory! however that's only because the others have yet to have their backstories be revealed. sorry for the late answer btw, exams have made me pretty tired.

ok so ill briefly explain a bit. this ties in to the requirement to become a devil butler that is, having felt so much despair that one feels like dying. normal people will be swallowed up by the devils they contract with. the despair essentially acts like chains for the devil. so to talk about their pasts in the Briefest Way Possible (lie):

miyaji has beef with lucas on the surface but really it's because he still can't get over the fact that lucas decided to save him from the verge of death instead of someone else he thought was more capable than him while lucas simply chose to save miyaji because he had higher chances of living.

lucas was basically a child prodigy/genius. since young, he's always loved reading books, and even read thick books that even adults struggled to understand. even though he was lonely and had no one to talk to, he still endured it, skipped grades, and became a doctor at the age of 10+. at first he was looked down on for being young, but an older doctor stood up for him. eventually he became the leader of the doctors, but due to his lack of social skills, he struggled to communicate well, which resulted in the doctors hating him. in the end, all the doctors except lucas quit their job. and the group collapsed. (tbf id quit too... imagine being said you didn't work as hard as him and don't have as much brainpower compared to him as well)

ammon has only had his mom since birth and lived with her, selling flowers for a living. ammon would always make sure the flowers would be sold out at the end of the day for his sickly mother, but if he doesn't manage to sell all of them it's heavily implied his mom whips him like he does to himself even now. they were like super poor but ammon still loved his mom because he only had her

berrien has like this super mysterious past but rn it's starting to unravel in chapter 4. he's an orphan and got adopted into a church backed by the grovanas or whatever nobel family to nurture warriors who could fight angels, but surprisingly the church is actually full of love and was ran by someone who fighted angels named Goetia. berrien also met his soon-to-be older brother figure named Beren/Belen. btw all of the kids go by the last name Cliane because goetia wants everyone to become true family.

when berrien was 26 (Beren 29), goetia died from a chronic disease and Beren had to take on goetia's responsibilities. berrien became the one running the church, however shit happened, Beren got demonized, and berrien used his powers to keep Beren alive after forming a contract with his current devil. he's still residing in berrien's basement as of current, but in a coma. berrien still thinks he himself has no rights to be a butler and really does not believe that he's the one keeping the damn thing running

also the church got destroyed like 2400 years ago and yes berrien is 2000+ years old

haures was born into some wack ass family, his dad ran away with some other woman and his mom projected her rage and stuff like that onto haures, and his newborn younger sister Tricia. haures is 10 years older than Tricia. when he was that age, he ran away from home with Tricia (literal baby) because he no longer trusted his mom to take good care of them. after that, when haures was 18, he trained hard to become a soldier under the grovanas nobles so he could afford to let Tricia get treatment for her worsening vision. one heartbreaking scene was when haures showed off his red uniform to Tricia and she said the blue uniform looked good on him... but 5 years later, haures managed to get Tricia's eyes healed!!! surely nothing bad could happen!!!!

sike. haures caught one of the grovanas nobles illegally trafficking humans with some dealer, and arrested him. however that led to the seller getting revenge, and he decided to capture tricia. he stabbed her and threw her into the woods. when haures found her, she only managed to call out to haures before she died after a few breaths. haures was really really really devastated. he sought revenge on the noble, and while the noble didn't die, he was jailed 5 years for harming the noble (not death sentence because he was determined mentally unstable after losing Tricia.). after he got out of jail, he found the noble again and wanted to kill him, but he was reminded of how Tricia admired him for protecting the people and helping those in need, which stopped him. after that, he became a devil butler because of his proficient fighting skills.

lamli was forced to work at a circus by his mom at the age of 10, while starting up with simple duties, he decided to train to become a circus troupe performer so he'd earn more money for his complaining mother. its heavily implied he's abandoned by her and becomes a devil butler because of his nimble body. btw his mom said she never wanted to have lamli right in front of him. jesus.

fennesz was born into a wealthy happy family, and had an older sister. however his war general father lost a war against nobles, and the economy went into shambles. his mom remarried but even though their stepdad was nice, fennesz and his sister ended up strays on the street due to some reasons i forgot of. fennesz would get bullied by kids on the street because of his father's loss in the war, but his sister would always protect him, and they relied on each other for survival. she's very smart, as shown in the story. she also loves history, as she said, it can help people learn from the past. its heavily implied she is dead.

ok flure! flure grew up with his older sister and mother who both did ballet (can one of you have an actual dad for once?), and he also followed in their footsteps. however when he was a child he was bullied for liking stereotypical girly things, like playing with his sister's dolls, doing ballet and having long hair. even though he was laughed at for doing it, he still underwent strict training guided bg his sister and mother. he never found the courage to tell his sister or mom even though his sister could tell something was wrong (heard him crying at night). he still thinks he should be more courageous to this day and thinks he's pathetic. we don't know what happened to his family but they probably died.

i wanted to talk about boschi but i realized idk much about him apart from the fact that he only had his grandmother (who's actually a great caretaker for once!) and he was bullied for being a bookworm/nerd at school and had no friends. though he did actually beat those bullies up later for mocking his grandma when she wanted to take him back home. she didn't want boschi to fight but she said herself she was actually rooting for him when he was fighting LMAOOO love her for that

lono. ok so lono was really poor and had no parents, and he acted as the older brother for the younger kids living on the streets with him. he'd work as someone who'd clean up rubble from battling angels, which was a job that had unstable income since no one knows when angels are gonna appear. they were family basically. lono would rather starve than let his siblings eat less, and his love of cooking originated here because he loved seeing them happy from his cooking. we don't know what happened to them, but they're probably dead

nac was born into a rich family, and has a father, not sure if he has a mother, never mentioned at least. apparently the stein family was great at sales or trading or smth??? they're just some very rich and well-known name. however on his 12th birthday, his butler led him to the forest near the stein mansion, and revealed himself to be someone the stein family harmed. just as he was about to kill lil nac in shock, nac retaliated in defense. and when he realized, he already stabbed the man at his vital point. his dad appears out of nowhere and reveals that he knew this all along, and that the stein family is actually a long line of assassins with sales as their front personas. nac was trained to kill since then, and thought he'd never feel positive emotions again before he became a devil butler. he also has scars all around his body, probably from the assassin work he did.

lato and his non-blood related brother, Aleks I think? were kidnapped by people who wanted to train people to become angel fighters. however unlike berrien, this time it's just pure cruelness and literal torture. they were 8 when this experiment started. not only that, all the children were sold by their caretakers to this place, including lato and aleks' "mother", the head of their orphanage, who they deeply loved and believed in. when lato finally found a way to escape, almost half the children were dead.

and when he told the others, they told lato that they already gave up on escaping, including aleks. from, i suppose, all the suppressed anger and trauma, he burned the experiment facility down, leaving the other kids to die because he hallucinated that they wanted them to be burned so they could be free. after that, lato returned to the orphanage even though he knew the "mother" sold him in the first place. guess what the mother did! that's right she ran back into the orphanage when she saw him, locked the fucking door and told him to get the fuck away from her. and lato burned the orphanage down.

now onto the new butler trio!

teddy is the one with the most details in his backstory so far. when he was young, he Had a twin brother, and teddy was a far cry from who he is now. he was negative and gloomy compared to his brother, who was positive and talented, and people always favored teddy's brother more. but one day, his brother died protecting him from an angel, but since they were so alike people didn't know whether the one that died was teddy or his brother. and after grieving his brother, teddy decided to become him, and used his brother's name to live on as him so people wouldn't be sad, because "teddy" was the one that died. and that led to teddy forming his personality today. teddy is his actual name though, he started using it after he became a knight. he became a knight because he wanted to protect people from angels.

but during an attack by an intelligent angel, namely seraphim, one of the angels that appeared at the end of chapter 1 and also the major antagonist of the story, teddy's entire unit got killed. at the start of chapter 2.5, he recuperated in a hospital, however he kept terrible nightmares (reliving the massacre, and hearing the voices of his comrades asking him why he abandoned them and why he got to survive) and so didn't sleep at all. he eventually snuck out of the hospital to visit their graves, and then started wondering what the point of him still being alive is. he almost threw himself off a cliff before haures and aruji reached him.

hanamaru. ten years before the story, hanamaru was fleeing from something- he walked all the way from the east to the central, and collapsed in a forest. a nun found him and took him back to a church that doubled as an orphanage. however the nun soon fell ill and died, so hanamaru began taking care of the kids in the church after he was saved by her.

but 5 years later, the church was attacked by angels. he was away from the church when the attack happened, and when he came back, all he saw were angels flying away from the ruined church. only 4 kids survived. hanamaru had a breakdown, and kept kneeling and pressing his head against the ground, saying things like "i couldn't protect them", "i swear ill keep them safe next time", implying this is not the first time something like this has happened. he swore vengeance against the angels that day, that he would never forgive them, and himself. so berrien suspects that the 4 kids that survived were the people that kept hanamaru around. who knows what could've happened if they passed as well...

lastly (finally), yuuhan. at the age of 9, he trained to become a soldier of the sardeis family so he could protect his hometown, and made it after 3 years. he quickly rose up in the ranks, being a prodigy. in the main story, he started doubting his loyalty to the family after they attempted an assassination on the devil butlers. and he betrayed the sardeis family and fell into their trap when investigating forbidden records. he got thrown into jail by the head, and the head decided for his punishment, yuuhan's whole village and everyone he knew there will be burned and killed. he could only despair in jail. in the story, after his prison guard left after serving him food, yuuhan started crying. he called out to his father, his mother, everyone from his hometown, apologizing again and again, believing that it's his fault that they died.

after that, the head, fubuki, paid him a visit. fubuki beat yuuhan up, pushed him to the verge of death, but not grave enough injuries to die. yuuhan asked fubuki to kill him, but fubuki refused. he even says he'll force feed yuuhan till the day of his death execution if necessary. however, yuuhan was rescued by the butlers during his execution. (it took place in a forest with tigers. basically the death penalty is getting eaten by tigers) he became a devil butler after that.

holy shit. also im not typing Bastien's since you can read his backstory from the tls available here.

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Only Friends, Episode 5 - The Extra Hour

In which we get Sand’s backstory (and proving once and for all he is the best boy ever, even P’Jojo said so!) before petty Boston ruins everything (again 😩)

Sand and Ray

Gosh…these 2 are everything this episode. We start with a montage of how mundane and boring Sand life is - study, working his multiple jobs, exercising, counting his finance and repeat…until Ray comes beaming into his life, and really give some much needed sunshine (heh, see what I did there?) to Sand’s life - and as per Sand, “his 25th hour.”

I love the domestic scenes we get - from Ray pretty much moving in with Sand (I suspect some time has passed by from the previous episode), to their domestic horny stuffs, to Sand catering Ray’s every whim. But as much as Sand spoils Ray, Ray actually does the same - he could have chosen not to go on the bike with Sand (after whining how hot and dusty it will be), he could have chosen not to model and indulge Sand’s desire for him to wear Sand’s style of clothes (after again whining halfheartedly it’s not his style).

I believe Ray is gradually but surely moving on from his unrequited love for Mew. He likes getting to know Sand - from all the above, to following Sand to the makeshift concert (and the song choice!! It’s from one of P’Jojo’s list for Sand’s Spotify!). And the fact that everytime Sand is with him, they are in their own world (I mean, poor Summer - she never stood a chance with Ray 😂…are we sure Ray is a playboy? So far, all I’m getting is him being hyper focus on one person when he likes someone - previously Mew, now Sand).

I also love the serious conversations these 2 have surrounding their births and their respective relationships with their parents - it makes such a good foundation for their blossoming friendship (and hopefully relationship). Gosh, the parallel of both being born from unexpected pregnancies - but Sand’s mom (and her gaggle of go-go women, I LOVE THEM) deciding to embrace him and raise him right (just look at how independent and self-reliance he is! P’Jojo tweeted how Sand is someone you want as a boyfriend in University, and I agree wholeheartedly) while Ray’s mom unfortunately fall into post-partum depression and spiralled into alcoholism (and the way Sand’s hand shook when he poured the alcohol drink for Ray, before the camera zoom to Sand looking at Ray to the bottle while Ray looked somehow bitter and sad - yes, FK again showing their supremacy in acting 👌)

But urgh, their blossoming relationship is now in tatters because of Boston being bitter and petty. I think Boston being informed by Mew that the latter is giving up his virginity to Top put him at edge. (And him yet again using Nick to forget about the fact, hence the reason he asked Nick whether he could stay the night at Nick’s place, when it’s usually the opposite)

And so to see Ray moving on, being happy with Sand - it snapped him. Boston is the type of person who can’t stand not winning, and I also think he has the mentality of “if I’m not happy, nobody can.” 😫

I still do not believe Ray and Mew slept together, so whatever Boston is spouting “are you two timing him?”, what does that even mean? Also, Mew called to say he was giving his virginity to Top…and even if they did slept together, it was TWO years ago. And now Ray knows Boston took pictures of RayMew kissing each other…gawd, Boston just sounded delusional during that whole scene.

In whatever case, the damage is done. And we see Sand guarding his heart again, despite Ray genuinely trying (for the first time) communicating by stating “If there is something you want to know, ask me, I’ll answer them.” Unfortunately, Sand is weary and it didn’t help Ray kept saying they were just friends each time someone asked what their relationship are (cause you know, Ray is a disaster muffin who won’t know he is in a relationship eventhough he basically did couply things with Sand). Urghhh…my heart just breaks for them 😭😩😫…and to end the episode with Sand shedding a tear and feeling alone (despite Ray lying next to him)…I don’t think I can forgive Boston for breaking their newfound happiness.

Nick and Boston

Which brings me to the toxic relationship of these 2. We see Nick trying to become more like Top. He exercising regularly to shape up and dress more smartly to capture Boston’s interest. But urgh…Boston as usual, plays it enough to make Nick happy (and the poor boy, Boston paying attention to the changes and commenting it, Nick thinks these are all positive things).

We also see Boston stating to Nick he wants to stop sleeping around (really?? When hell freezes over) because one of his conquest took video/photos of them together and Boston having to threaten said conquest to delete the incriminating footage (if that is not foreshadowing of what may happen to Boston in the future, I’m not sure what is. Also, Nick still has the recording of TopBoston….)

But what truly devastated me was when Boston spewing all the nonsense to SandRay that led to the massive fight between Ray and Boston; Ray warned Nick about Boston’s callous and selfish nature, and Nick just resignedly acknowledged it, fully aware he is too in love with Boston, and can’t seem to find a way out of it.

I’m sorry, but I can’t see any redeemable qualities in Boston 😭😭😭 (I love you, Neo and your acting in this series, 👌 - but urgh, Boston makes my blood boils)

Top and Mew

I can’t pinpoint it exactly but there is something not quite right with their relationship. On one hand, Top is sweet and attentive to Mew (I can see why Mew fell in love with Top). But twice now in this episode, 2 strange men stared (and smiled almost creepily at Top - with both time Mew clocking it? But not really addressing it). And Top genuinely doesn’t seem to be aware of the staring itself (or are we meant to think it’s all in Mew’s head? And it’s just Mew being insecure? 🧐🤨. I mean Mew did warn Top in the first episode he can become obsessive). I also do not believe one bit Top has given up on his drug habits plus his side eyeing Boston while shading both Boston and Ray in front of Mew (albeit subtly), is he slowly trying to manipulate Mew and isolate Mew from his group of friends?)

Nonetheless, Mew and Top did fall in love (or at least we are led to believe they are in love) and well, Top popped Mew’s cherry. What I cannot fathom is WHY Mew called Boston (of all people) to tell him the news. I can understand why he didn’t call Ray (so that he doesn’t rub on Ray’s unrequited love), but why not Cheum? Who from the get go rooted for TopMew. I’m not sure whether Mew has an ulterior motive or he genuinely thinks Boston will be happy for them as one of his bestie. Either way, Boston is NOT a happy camper (as we are aware) and took it out on SandRay newly found happiness.

Ray, Mew, Namchuem, Boston

Now more than ever, we are seeing cracks in their friendship. Ray and Boston don’t seem to get along without Namchuem and Mew. Ray and Mew (for obvious reasons) are probably talking the bare minimum with each other (and the fact that Top clocked on Mew and Namchuen basically doing the bulk of their hostel project tells you something). I feel the most sorry for Namchuen who has to deal with 3 sorry excuses of boys (cause let’s be honest, all 3 are disastrous in different ways)

Anyway, as usual, each episode makes my head spin and this is just me trying to figure out what’s happening. The preview from episode 6 seems wild with Mew’s birthday and Mew punching Ray? Oh dear…it’s going to be more heartbreak 😩😫😣…but onward and forward, is it Saturday yet?

09/09/2023

[akindofmagictoo]

"what do you want to know about Iphigenia" EVERYTHING. I just love hearing about other people's dnd ocs.

I'm particularly interested in the nature of her warlock pact and her relationship with he brother. Because I know her father killed her?? tried to kill her??? but she clearly misses/cares about her brother. Is he dead? still with their father?

(hilariously the other iphigenia dnd PC I know of also had complicated brother things going on...)

But also warlock stuff because I really love warlocks. They're one of my favorite classes, and I think they just have SO much potential for storytelling built into the class itself. Coming up with patron dynamics and how involved (or uninvolved) they are in the warlock's life is always SO much fun. I have 3 warlock characters (two of which haven't truly gotten played but are very developed) and all three of them have DRASTICALLY different relationships with their patrons. (One was forced into it, one is buddies with their patron, and one of them doesn't even know they're a warlock, actually.)

It's after 4am here, so I really need to go to bed (thank FUCK I don't have classes tomorrow... I would be dead if I did), but I will be VERY excited to read what you reply in the morning!!! 💖💖💖

(hi, if you hadn't guessed, this is @memento-morri-writes.)

well hello there! yes, i did gather it was you :))

warlock pact, her brother, and her father...? yeah, so this is basically a rundown of Iphigenia's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. praise the Lord for the read more function, or i'd have to apologise to a lot of followers.

(Waterdeep: Dragon Heist spoilers abound)

(also, my standard set of trigger warnings for this backstory: murder, family violence (very literal), cult activity, human sacrifice, and mentions of mutilation.)

Iphigenia is an aasimar, adopted shortly after birth by a very high-up noble family - the Cassalanters. she is now 19. the family by now have three other children: Osvaldo, who is eleven months older than Iphigenia; and Terenzio and Elzerina, who are twins and about to turn nine.

well. Osvaldo is... complicated. he disappeared three years ago. don't worry about that. but he and Iphigenia were so close; Iphigenia has never trusted anyone so deeply and instinctively as she trusted him. she was always the slightly better politician (Osvaldo's bad with consequences, ie he very rarely experiences them), and he was the more reckless of the two, but he would NEVER let any of his siblings come to harm. i love him, your honour.

we'll get to him.

the day before the campaign, Iphigenia was woken in the middle of the night by her father. he said he needed her help with something; she went with him, a bit confused, but trusting him. that's her dad. it's so cool that he needs her help with something! of course it won't be bad.

still, she was a bit uncertain, so she asked what was up. he cast Charm Person on her. everything's fine and cool. off they go, further into the house, down into what used to be the family crypt (it had supposedly been buried some years before). she sees that she's standing in a rune circle. he wants her to help with some magic? awesome! she's not exactly a wizard or anything, but she is a nerd, so she's happy to help. (the charm person has nothing to do with this, obviously)

but the charm does break when she looks over and realised he has carved a sigil into her wrist. (oh, and the rune circle bursts into flames for the aesthetic)

naturally, she starts freaking out. he casts Hold Person on her. and he keeps working. obviously Iphigenia is not freaking out any less, but she can't move now. it's... fun.

finally, finally, the Hold Person wears off. her arms are pretty much useless now, both forearms covered in sigils. but she can run, so she tries to. she hesitates at the edge of the fire, just for a second. his arms go around her from behind - and that's her dad, he's giving her a hug, how nice!

until she feels cold metal catch at her throat, and hot blood gushing down her chest.

he holds her while she bleeds out, begging him to save her even as her words are drowned by the blood she's choking on. she begs in Common and Celestial, unknown to her. she's dying. she's really not thinking.

and then she does die. like properly dead.

so this next bit isn't anything she properly remembers, but her father's summoning circle rerouted; instead of dialing a devil, it summoned a celestial. Iphigenia's mother (one of her birth mothers. they're lesbians. Iphigenia has a comically large number of mothers), Irissa Rynmore. who has not realised she has a daughter? i think? or at very least hasn't been able to find her properly. either way, Irissa is very quickly irate about said daughter being dead.

Iphigenia remembers flashes of this - a bright light, a warmth in her chest, and not much else.

the next morning, Iphigenia wakes up back in her own bed. just like she was when her father woke her. well, that was a horrible horrible dream, wasn't it, she thinks... and then she looks in the mirror, and the scars aren't gone. that wasn't a dream. that was real.

this was the morning the campaign began; that evening, she arrived in a tavern looking for the party fighter, as the only person she could think of who could maybe help her fix this. after Iphigenia's brother disappeared, the fighter made sure she got out of the house and didn't get super depressed. Iphigenia, having No Idea How To Deal With This, fled the house and didn't look back.

(fun fact: I wrote this up novel-style. a couple excerpts can be found here. the document could be known as "Iphigenia fails an improbable number of consecutive wisdom saves", but is actually titled "Iphigenia donates blood")

SO. then the campaign happened, and that's been two years of play, so i'm not gonna summarise the whole thing, but some highlights.

Iphigenia, via consensual kidnapping (long story), was returned to her house, and a scene ensued which i like to call The Talk But It's "Your Parents Are Cultists". Iphigenia's parents have a deal with Asmodeus; part of the cost was Osvaldo, and the twins are about to be taken as well. Osvaldo's body is in Lady Cassalanter’s attic, transmuted into a devil and hidden behind powerful protective magic. the twins are fine... for about a week more.

the Cassalanters want to protect the twins (wow, so kind of you to care about the children YOU TRADED AWAY), and there is one possible loophole in an Asmodeus contract. what they told Iphigenia is that they need 1 million gp; they have about half, and the other half can be obtained via the Stone of Golorr, the MacGuffin of the module that leads to a bunch of embezzled treasure hidden in the city.

unrelated, the Cassalanters are hosting a ball, as they do every year, and have opened up 99 places via raffle to the whole city, not just the nobles! wow! cool!

Iphigenia did her own research, and it turns out alongside 1 million gold pieces (well, one million minus one), they also need to sacrifice one hundred minus one souls. sound familiar? yeah. i was fully sobbing OOC, Iphigenia was dead certain she was going to lose all her siblings, because she can't let that happen.

her parents asked her to help obtain the Stone, which she did, and now they want her to help get the three 'keys' needed for the Stone. she's playing along, and definitely terrified that she won't be able to stop them at the last minute, per her plan. but she's a politician at heart (she learned from them); it's the best way she knows how to get information out of them, and also the safest place for her to be until she decides to make her move. we're pretty sure we'll have to confront them at the ball and stop them. we may also forge one of the keys. it's a really really delicate and utterly terrifying game to play. Iphigenia is fighting for her life not to get gaslit (actually i fully got gaslit OOC, that wasn't fun).

the Cassalanter house currently has wards that prevent celestials (Irissa) from getting in. very rude and lowkey racist against the half-celestial Iphigenia, lol. working on fixing that too.

so currently our options for saving the twins are to 1) kill the Cassalanters, 2) kill Asmodeus (lol no), or 3) ask Sarenrae nicely for help. she can shield the twins from Asmodeus's influence.

to save Osvaldo, we can 1) make our own deal with Asmodeus (the fighter correctly pointed out that Osvaldo wouldn't want Iphigenia to, and she's RIGHT), 2) ask Sarenrae for help. there is a cleric multiclass in my future, but that'll probably be after the campaign.

Iphigenia wants to fix this! she wants her parents to be the parents she idolised as a child. she wants them to stop this and repent and come back. i doubt this will work, but if anyone can help me do this, it's the goddess of redemption herself. failing that, i guess we get to do a murder? (the rest of the party has been sharpening weapons to kill these guys since the start of the campaign. weirdly, Iphigenia's goodwill holds a lot of power over them. i'm looking forward to informing them of this fact.)

on pacts: Irissa is an absolute delight. she's very scatterbrained, but so so kind. she regularly shows up to dreamscape tea parties holding books titled stuff like "Parenting Your Adult Child". she's trying so so hard to be a good mum to Iphigenia. to clarify, her wife Selene died in childbirth, which is why Iphigenia was adopted. i haven't had the chance to ask, but i really want to ask Irissa, "do i look like her?"

Irissa is also very ready to smite the Cassalanters. the only reason she didn't kill Lord Cassalanter on the spot was that she was busy healing Iphigenia. would have solved a lot of our campaign problems, but also would have broken the module.

Iphigenia finds her a little overwhelming at times, she's very talkative and kind of a lot, but she's precious and really trying. and honestly, Iphigenia needs one parent who loves her. without Irissa and the party, Iphigenia would have been got by her parents' gaslighting long ago.

right. i think i've outdone you on length of post. enjoy!! i'll see if i can come up with more Rook questions for you 👀 feel free to hit me up with more Iphigenia questions if you want, i have SO many thoughts about my best girl

(1.5k words. could be worse.)

[letapollojusticesayfuck]

thinking about the Gramaryes and legacy and family ties. the troupe is a “family” publicly—they share last names and project the appearance of a cohesive unit. But Zak and Valant aren’t blood related—to each other or to Magnifi, whose only blood relative in the Troupe is Thalassa. Magnifi passed on his “magic” by mentoring Zak and Valant, but the true magical talent was something only inheritable by actual bloodlines—the Perceive ability. this throws the whole dynamic into conflict, especially when the heightened senses associated with Perceive are integral to certain magic acts. The gramaryes aren’t the cohesive family they pretend to be—and that’s not even getting into everything to do with Thalassa and the in-group romances.

you’ve also got their disbandment and the way that Trucy is left trying desperately to carry on the legacy of the troupe—something she’s doing without Magnifi’s teachings, but something she’s doing based on her inherited Perceive ability and senses, plus whatever she remembers from her childhood with the troupe. in contrast again, there’s Valant Gramarye, trying to carry on based purely on a name and lingering reputation. it was good enough to get him a gig with the Gavinners, but clearly his performances lack the certain spark that the old Troupe Gramarye embodied—the spark that likely came from the real “magic” of those within the gramarye bloodline.

but the gramarye bloodline isn’t necessarily a good thing to be part of—because why would Thalassa run away? as a teenager who’s grown up starring in a family magic show, what was it about that life that made her flee when she realized she was about to bring forth another generation of the gramarye line? She returns to the troupe eventually—but without her son Apollo, who it’s possible Magnifi never knew existed, or at least never knew survived to adulthood. Without taking AA6 into account (because that backstory wasn’t thought of yet when AA4 was made), we can theorize—maybe Thalassa realized she couldn’t get by on her own, and that she had to return to the security of the troupe, but didn’t want Apollo to be exploited for his bloodline-given gift the way she had been, and therefore gave him up? Was Trucy a sign that she’d later changed her mind about the Troupe—or was she never planned to begin with?

and where does Apollo fit into this legacy, in the end? he doesn’t know he should fit, but he knows that he shares Perceive with Trucy, and he likely wonders about its origins. He isn’t burdened by being part of the legacy of the Troupe, but he’s burdened by having unclear origins. and he’s technically one of the final members of the gramarye bloodline—which begs the question of whether the important part of Troupe membership was by birth or by adoption.

aa4 in general is a game all about family ties—the gramaryes, yes, but also kristoph and klavier, the kitakis, the mishams, even trucy and phoenix. i think, in the end, it tries to communicate a message about family legacies not defining you, but embracing the family you choose. (even if part of your family of choice happens to be a member of your real life family that you don’t find out is related to you….ever, apparently).

theoretically all of this is basically an entire actual essay if i start talking about the other families but…i don’t know if i have enough time, post space, or desire to type this up entirely on my phone to make that happen. so instead you get my slightly more organized versions of a draft full of disorganized thoughts

[grim-girlying-ghost]

Do you have any headcanons for the organist?

Or Madame Leota perhaps?

Ooo Victor! Yes, I have a few actually!

Firstly, I’m sticking to the general depiction in modern supplementary material of him being of German Origin. He was born into a family of musicians in Germany, where he learned to play several instruments, with the Organ being his favorite due to its ✨dramatic flair✨

He moved to America in his late 20s, jumping around from job to job over the course of several decades. Before becoming the organist of Gracey Manor, some of the jobs he held included teaching as a music professor for a few years, and he also worked as the organ player for a traveling circus (the same circus Sally would eventually join). This is actually the job he held for the longest before moving into the mansion.

MAJOR RBF! On top of that, his focused face when he performs is very intense so to a lot of people at first, he doesn’t seem all that approachable. Despite this, he’s very friendly and kind of eccentric when you get to know him and get on his good side. Think that uncle who’s kinda weird and not all there but overall very friendly and loving. Yeah thats him.

I also think he’s close with Sally Slater but not in the way some people view it. I know some people ship the two and thats a completely valid interpretation ofc, but I personally can’t see it that way because I’ve always seen Victor as a sixty-year-old man, meanwhile to me Sally is like 20. Also, in my version of the story, he’s known Sally since she was a child, so in here he’s a father figure to her, in fact, Victor practically raised Sally. 

Piggybacking off the last one, he’s actually the whole reason Sally joined the circus. However, I’m gonna need to provide some context for my version of Sally‘s backstory so bare with me. Basically, Sally was separated from her birth family when she was only around 9 years old due to her mother and older siblings being killed in an incident with someone who was targeting the whole family. She and her dad survived but in the process of escaping, the two were separated and Sally gained amnesia from falling off the running vehicle they were on (yes, this is very much inspired by the first 6 minutes of Anastasia (1997)). It was a few hours after that that Victor found her wondering around with no memory of who she was and offered her a home in the traveling circus he was working for, and thus becoming her unofficial adoptive father, and her eventually becoming the circus’ tightrope walker.

Despite his mainly chill personality, he has a very serious and protective side when it comes to the people he cares about. I’ve mentioned vaguely on this blog that Sally and Dorian are a thing romantically in my story. When the two started courting, Victor took Dorian aside and word by word said “I don’t care how rich you are…if you break her heart, I will kill you”. Luckily that never happened! Even so, safe to say Dorian was kinda scared of him for a while 😅

He knows every ghost by name, better than Master Dorian Gracey himself. This is because the ballroom is a general hangout spot for all the residents of the mansion, so he’s seen and familiarized himself all of the other 998 happy haunts. The only people who have the residents better memorized than him are the Ghost Host and Leota.

He really likes cats. This is a very random one and it honestly feels so irrelevant to everything else, but he just gives me the vibe of that old man who would own several cats at the same time. For the first two decades that he lived in America, he owned like 5 cats while he was living in one place. Eventually he stopped when he joined the circus because he knew working in a traveling environment while owning pets wouldn’t work out.

At one point in his life, he was very much married to the job. There were nights he would stay up composing forgetting to eat or sleep because of how engrossed he was into his work (not me projecting my adhd creative hyperfocus here). Stepping into the father role for Sally actually taught him to ease up on it.

Since you asked, I’ll do Leota on a separate post another day, but here it is for now :)

[remidyal]

Bad Ideas of the Day, Part Three

My monthly-ish roundup of my bad dimension 20 fanfic ideas of the day prompts! As ever, all of these can be written by anyone who cares to do so.

Part two can be found here and part one here

Bad Idea Of the Day, Multi-class Edition: Following basic pattern recognition skills, Fig decides and convinces four of the other bad kids that the key to getting powerful wizard abilities is not hard work and study, but having a name that starts with the letter A. Can Adaine deal with walking in to class on the first day of school and finding five new students in her wizard classes, Afig, Akristen, Ariz, Agorgug, and Abian, or will she murder her friends on the spot?

Bad idea of the day, Sicktember is a curse edition: Out of respect for Aelwyn's compromised immune system following her time in the orb, the residents of Mordred Manor actually take proper precautions to avoid getting her sick during the following flu season. A fluff piece and alas seemingly pure fantasy.

Bad idea of the day, yes I already did one today edition: Fig, actually doing a bard assignment for once, needs to build a ballad for her family history and decides to include the entire insane non-Gorgug bad kids family tree, even the most tenuous links in it like Kristen and Aelwyn.

Bad idea of the day, role swap edition: Fabian, prince of Leviathan, must deal with a ship that has been raiding his father's trading vessels, led by two sisters who are pirating with varying degrees of reluctance to bring wealth back to their greedy and demanding parents

Bad idea of the day, backstory mix and match edition: In the summer before high school, Kristen and her entire family are ripped apart by the discovery that she is half-devil; meanwhile, wood elf Fig wakes up one morning to a god whispering in her head and is deeply annoyed because they won't just let her sleep in.

(If I want to do it for all of the bad kids, hmm… Riz's parents are actually retired thieves, while Bill Seacaster was actually a privateer working for Solace the whole time; Adaine is adopted and aware of it and hoping her birth parents would actually love her, while Gorgug has a wild gnomish older sister who may be up to some nefarious activity)

Bad idea of the day, every show needs a musical episode by its third season edition: The residents of Elmville have been cursed into bursting into song at the slightest provocation, with reactions ranging from the amused (Fig, Kristen) to the murderous (Riz, Aelwyn). What kind of villain could be behind such an impromptu act of theater?

Why, it's Sam Reich of course. He's been here the… you know the rest.

Bad idea of the day, I Like Werewolves Okay? edition - KINGSTON fails his con save to avoid becoming a werewolf during the train fight and everyone else needs to help him adjust without gnawing on too many people.

Bad idea of the day, the writer had to scroll back to see if it had already done a bad idea of the day today edition: A groundhogs day esque time loop for one of the bad kids, but it's not a dramatic day or anything special and in fact it's just kind of boring and miserable. This turns out to eventually be revealed to be revenge by Arthur Aguefort for some petty and long-forgotten-by-the-kid slight.

Bad idea of the day, campaign fusion edition: Arthur Aguefort sends the Bad Kids on their most dangerous and critical mission yet, shrinking them down to clean out his fridge and prevent the vegetables within from grouping up to kill him before he can eat them, without causing too much damage to the ecosystem he's been maintaining for the last five centuries. Can these mere fleshy beings stop this uprising against 'the hungry one' in the world of Calorum?

Bad idea of the day, early morning edition: Kristen's gay awakening is triggered not by Tracker, but rather by someone who her parents would hate even more: The cute bi rebellious tiefling in her new party.

Bad idea of the day, portal to hell edition: Daybreak succeeds in condemning Kristen to hell, which doesn't actually end the world but does mean Kristen's stuck in hell. Can she find a new god worth following in such spicy surroundings?

Bad idea of the day, after school special edition: Fig and Aelwyn get part-time jobs going around Solace to "demonstrate" the dangers of drugs and drinking by going to local school parties and faking getting into lethal car accidents, overdoses, and other mishaps to scare those local students into being drug free, mostly because both of them secretly find it funny and in Aelwyn's case she needs the money

Bad idea of the day, Double Your Pleasure edition: Riva, never quite certain how the pleasure putty they're selling works, finds out about oral sex and then makes the determination that the explosive material should be marketed as chewing gum. The ensuing pleasure blows people's minds!

Bad idea of the day, Oops All Spells edition: The bad kids manage to not get detention on the first day and to avoid accidentally playing into daybreak's hands, ending up in normal parties. Many of them have many troubles out of this, but the worst is for Fig, who finds herself tempted into hanging out with the first other tiefling she's ever met even if he is a little bit of a loser, one Johnny Spells

Bad idea of the day, Mentopolis edition: The Fix gets an assignment to wipe out serial distracter Imelda Pulse before she can ruin any more coworker's birthdays

Bad idea of the day, Afterlife edition: Figueroth Faeth is very bad at the paperwork of her domain in Hell, even after nearly fifty years running it. Luckily for her, her good friend and paperwork expert Riz Gukgak has just died of old age, and Fig isn't above cheating him out of heaven in order to get his administrative expertise in Hell.

Bad idea of the day, party swap edition: As part of a junior year test, all of the students in that year must do a relatively easy quest mixed up into different parties, with no two members of a typical party allowed to be together. How do the bad kids handle doing a mission with people who are less, well, generally insane and bloodthirsty than they are?

Bad Idea of the Day, Spy Versus Spy edition: All of the bad kids are on secret missions to spy on Arthur Aguefort and his school, with varying degrees of willingness and conflicting goals: Adaine for Fallinel, Kristen on behalf of the church, Fig on behalf of Hell, Riz for Kalina, Fabian for his father, and Gorgug for the Solisian government itself through his parents.

Bad idea of the day, A Crown of Candy edition: Amethar dies in the initial ambush, the way Brennan had frankly probably planned for. Can the remnants of house Rocks hold things together and avenge their fallen king?

Bad idea of the day, Nightmare Forest edition: Rather than illusions, the nightmare forest sequence is made up of a Freddy Kreuger-esque sequence of actual dreams in the Bad Kids' actual sleeps, with them needing to survive their respective worst nightmares in order to make it to the place at the center of dreams where they can find the Nightmare King.

Bad idea of the day, fake holiday edition: Aguefort in junior year includes a class on self-promotion, and Fig and Adaine, taking it extremely seriously, start a holiday honoring the anniversary of Riz murdering Daybreak.

[henriiiii-1001old]

tmc fairy tale au!!!

SO this is actually a concept i had a few months ago that i never rly expanded upon.

first, let me explain the basics:

i assigned different tmc characters to different fairy tales, but they all exist in the same universe.

Adam - Rapunzel Evelin - Snow White/Flynn Rider Jonah - Little Mermaid Sarah - Gretel/Daughter from The Juniper Tree Mark - Hansel/Stepson from The Juniper Tree Cesar - Frog Prince Thatcher - Lumberjack guy from Red Riding Hood Ruth - Red Riding Hood Dave - Father from The Juniper Tree Six - Gothel Gabriel - Stepmother from The Juniper Tree Preacher - The Sea Witch Stanley - The Candy Witch Alt!Thatch - Big Bad Wolf

next, some art i made for the au!!!

and now, huge lore dump! >:)c its gonna be long so buckle your seatbelts LMAO

so, the main plot of this au is basically that adam has been stuck in a tower in the middle of nowhere for almost 21 years. he had been raised by six, who is actually a witch set on taking over the kingdoms that surround the nearby areas (aka the counties). one day, six it out doing stuff, and while he's gone prince evelin (yes she's a prince bc fuck it) ends up finding the tower. she decides to climb it out of curiosity.

she ends up in a standoff against adam, but to try to deescalate things, they introduce themselves to each other. all of a sudden before they could talk more, adam hears six coming back and hides evelin in a nearby closet. evelin sees adam and six get into a fight abt adam wanting to go out into the world for once, but six is all "you're not ready" and it just gets really bad. all until six lovebombs adam and leaves again to get something for adam's upcoming 21st birthday.

evelin had exited the closet as six left, and she's like "you let him do that to you?" adam is like "uh yeah? he always does? i dont see them problem" and evie starts making adam question everything. she promises to take adam into the world but return him by night in case six came back. they'd also stay near the tower just in case as well.

cut to jonah's pov! he's a simple merman wanting to be a part of the human world! he sees evie and adam having a lot of fun and wishes he could join them. his dad (yes, if jonah is the little mermaid, the fucking mervin marshall is the king by proxy DCFVGBHNJ) is all like "nuh uh too dangerous, especially with most of the witches residing on land anyway" and jonah is like "FUCKING BET!"

he goes to the sea witch, preacher, and asks for legs and talks about seeing adam and evie hanging out! and preacher is like "im sorry WHO????" bc she knows that adam shouldnt be out and about. she makes jonah promise that as part of the deal, he must return adam to six in three days time, otherwise he'll turn back into a merman. he quickly agrees, and the whole deal is made. preacher does go tell six about this, and while he freaks out at first, preacher is like "it's ok dude i got this. i got a client to promise to return him home as part of our deal. you're fine m'dude."

jonah ends up on land and tries teaching himself how to talk while finding a cloth to barely dress himself with. adam and evie do eventually see him and they're like "yo who tf are you?" and while jonah cant talk, they do find a way to write to each other and they become friends!!!!

they do also eventually meet sarah at some point, and oh b o y does she have a backstory.

SO, in order to explain her backstory, let me explain the story of "the juniper tree" (copy pasted from discord LMAO)

"so a mother is peeling apples under a juniper tree and accidentally cuts her finger. the blood drips onto the snow on the ground, and that (somehow) grants the woman's wish to have a child as white as snow and as red as blood. she dies after giving birth to her perfect child, and the father soon remarries, having a daughter of her own.

she loved her daughter but hated her stepson and abused him every day and is all "i want my daughter to inherit your father's money." she then leads her children to a chest of apples one day. she lets her daughter pick an apple from the chest, but when her stepson came to pick one, she slammed the chest on his head and decapitated him.

she then set it up to where the same thing would happen again but the daughter would be there to witness it all, and her mother would gaslight her into thinking that she murdered her own brother. she then literally turned her stepson into soup and fed him to her husband. the daughter was so grossed out and distraught the entire time, but she couldn't rat her mother out. she ended up burying her brother's bones under the juniper tree.

then, he reincarnated as a bird and sung a song to some townspeople to convince them to help him get revenge on his stepmother. he gathered a golden chain for his father, red shoes for his sister, and a millstone to crush his stepmother. he reveals himself to his family and they live happily ever after."

here's the changes i made to the original story:

instead of just the mother dying, both of mark and sarah's prents die, and now they are in the sole custody of dave

instead of having the caretaker marry someone, dave asks his friend "o'brien" to help raise mark and sarah

instead of the stepmother dying, it is revealed that o'brien was actually the great mage gabriel trying to steal something important to their plans that dave just so happens to have

and thats it CFVGBHNJM. gabriel does try and come back every once in a while to coax gabe into either letting them come back or trying to make dave give himself up for sarah's sake.

cesar's story is also p cool imo! he is the prince of bythorne and evelin's cousin! they got along great when evelin was younger, but that stopped once cesar disappeared.

this was caused by him saving mark and sarah from the candy witch, stanley, who had lured them in to specifically kill mark. cesar saw what was going on and saved the two of them before it was too late.

later that night, stanley decided to be a petty bitch and curse cesar into being a frog so he wouldn't be able to save anyone else from her or her sisters' (in which six is her like. brother but i'll explain why later LMAO) plans. cesar hid in the shadows of mandela kingdom's palace for years since then.

since cesar's disappearance, evelin had wanted to take the role of prince to honor him. she also used it as a way to not have to be trapped inside the palace walls and coddled. she ended up still feeling stuck anyway, which led to her sneaking out to travel through the woods, which ofc led her one day to find adam's tower.

at some point (if anything this would be after evie and adam meet and stuff), evelin finds cesar in his frog form on the windowsill of the guest room he would regularly stay in whenever he would come to mandela to visit. he finds that she isnt revolted by his new appearance and is actually willing to help him out!

he explains that he learned that most curses can be cured by "true love's kiss", which in storybooks was always seen as romantic. he had always viewed evelin like a little sister, so he felt that he was hopeless.

that was until evelin thought of a loophole, since the stories never explicitly said that it was romantic, she would try to break the curse purely through the love she has for him as her cousin. she kisses the top of cesar's head, and cesar has returned to his human form!!!

...well, somewhat. the curse had altered his human form due to it not being broken for years on end, so cesar came back deformed. his limbs were too long and half of his face was always covered by a dark shadow. cesar did freak out about this, but evelin assured him that he'll always be her cesar, no matter what he looked like.

evelin and cesar explained the situation and cesar was finally returned to bythorne. he did write a letter a bit after wards telling her that he has resigned from his princely duties to become a princess! maybe it would help him not have to struggle with the expectations of needing to be brave and bold, and it would be a thank you to evelin for taking his role as a prince!!!

speaking of evelin, let's go back to her for a minute. so, i had also put her as snow white, but we haven't really seen her fulfill that role yet. weeelllll...

at some point in the story, six finds evelin alone in the forest and offers her to take a bite of an apple in exchange for knowledge about adam and his past. the thing is, evelin HATES fruit so she's like "ewww do i have tooo" and six is like "if you really wanna know, then you gotta."

evelin agrees and bites into the apple. it tastes so fucking gross, but she feels like she was to swallow it to finish her end of the deal. once she swallows, the pieces suddenly cling onto her throat, choking her in the process. as she struggles to breathe, six begins to tell her who adam truly is.

adam is a regular boy who six took as part of a deal made by his parents. lynn had been getting pregnancy cravings and wanting the rapunzel frm the neighbor's garden. she made jude retrieve them for her, but it wasn't enough. eventually, jude got caught by six and agreed to give up their firstborn child in exchange to continue taking the flowers.

once adam was born, lynn and jude were killed by six, and he took adam away to raise him as his prodigy. as a catalyst for the witches' plans.

as six is explaining all of this to evelin, she is trying her hardest to take him down with her. fuck the info he's giving her, he tricked her, and now he has to pay. she swings with all her might but falls in vain. her vision goes black as six walks away from her dying body...

there's probably a "mother knows best reprise" moment here and six is all like "oh you might wanna go save your friend if you care about her so much" and adam freaks tf out. she's desperately trying to think of something to help evelin.

eventually, the group remember's cesar's story with "true love's kiss" and they're like "fuck it let's try that". adam, while literally sobbing, plants a small kiss on her forehead and prays for her to wake up.

while this is all happening, evelin ets visited by mark's spirit. he basically hypes her up and is like "you got this girlie!!!" and she wakes up after adam plants his kiss on her. she starts to choke again, but adam helps her with it and heimlichs the apple out of her throat. she's finally able to breathe, and the group celebrates.

however, the happy moment doesn't last for too long. jonah does eventually return adam to six behind evelin and sarah's backs, but afterward he feels so guilty for it. they literally sacrificed one of the first human friends he's ever made for legs. how stupid is that? they eventually go to sarah and evelin and they quickly figured out what happened. while evelin goes to the tower to save adam (with help from a certain spirit), sarah and jonah confront preacher.

there is gonna be a plot abt preacher almost taking over the seas, but jonah and sarah do eventually take her down and retrieve jonah's voice. and yes, sarah gets to see that jonah is a merman and she's actually like "YO WAIT YOU GUYS ARE REAL???" and jonah is like "UH YEAH?????"

and yes, adam does eventually escape as well, but i dont have those details either so ye :')

that's the main plot at least! i do have a subplot for thatcher's pov tho! more copy paste from discord

"thatcher and ruth are friends and live nearby each other. ruth usually helps out w raising mark and sarah, though mark by this point is dead so dave DEFINITELY needs help. he and sarah havent been taking his death well, especially since dave literally ate mark’s remains without knowing. and sarah feels guilty enough for being gaslit into believing that she killed mark.

so ruth is about to go to dave’s place and has to walk through the forest to get there. she eventually meets what seems to be a very friendly wolf. she is a little weirded out by it, but she eventually tells it how dave lost mark and that she’s helping out! and the wolf is like “oh thats cool! i wish you luck on your journey. though i must say, these flowers smell beautiful! maybe you should pick some and take them to your dear friend!” and as ruth collects flowers as the wolf suggested, it found thatcher nearby and took his appearance to take a visit to a particular dave lee." ...

"she gets to dave's place who has been escorted out by the wolf/alt thatcher, right? so he's like "dear friend, why don't you rest! you've spent all day walking here, and you should be able to rest" aaaaand he tries to turn her into a werewolf but then thatcher comes in and is like "AYO TF YOU DOING TO MY BESTIE????" and he and the wolf fight. thatcher ends up getting bitten but is able to ward him off with his axe that was laced with silver just in case. so ruth is saved, but overtime thatcher feels more pain surge throughout his body and just kinda. turns one night.

unfortunately, he ends up killing ruth. alt thatcher tries to take this as an opportunity to maybe make him join the witches, but thatcher ofc refuses and makes a break towards dave's house. thatcher ends up telling dave what happened, and dave is okay with helping him hide it as well as hiding his newfound lycanthropy

sarah overhears this convo and becomes EXTREMELY angry at thatcher bc ruth was helping dave raise her after mark died. she was basically the mother figure sarah had always wanted, and thatcher took that away from her."

that's it for plot!!! now for some witch shenanigans >:)

so the witches are basically all the alts who usually practice shapeshifting magic to like. deceive others and all that jazz. ive made it a running joke that six is technically the only guy there FVGBHNJ

like, stanley is fem, preacher is female, alt!thatcher is copying thatcher who is transfem in this au, and gabriel dresses fem. six (and by proxy adam) is literally the only guy there DCFVGBHNJ

i am. running out of energy but i think that's everything for rn. hope you enjoy this au though!!!! ive put a lot into it <33333

[radiant-hope-au]

Radiant Hope Blurr and Hot Rods backstory

Been working on designs but robots are hard! So here’s Radiant Hope Hot Rod & Blurrs backstory- Its a bit rushed/quickly wrote but I find accidentally mistaken as giant fae twins funny

So let us start backwards in time, many many years ago when the Decepticons first reached our solar system they discovered Earth. Believing there was no sentient life on the planet the Decepticons made an attempt to cyberform the young planet to make it their new home. However only a small piece of land was cyberformed before their ship was sent barreling into the ocean, locking everyone in stasis for millions of years, just as the Autobots were lost to the desert.

Years passed, extinctions occurred, and early humanity arose in this time. It seemed the world was left unaware of the metallic scar that ran down its body. Yet life would find a way, a pulse of energy flowed through the cyberformed land and a pool of liquid metal bubbled to the surface in that moment a spark formed then split into two birthing the first Earth born transformers.

They were protoforms, soft shades of silver with blue biolights, their limbs long and a bit too big for their bodies with giant unblinking optics. The two to an extent knew what they were, who they were, and where they were from. They also knew they weren’t where they were supposed to be.

Unmonitored and with no way to scan an altmode the protoforms roamed Earth, watching early humans from afar blissfully unaware they had been the origin point of multiple folktales.

They’d learn human language, and call out to humans in the woods only to scurry away as they both found it funny. Though at some points they’d actually pick up and examine the humans who got too close, they didn’t really understand why the small organisms feared them but they’d always set them back down and watch them run away leaving them quite curious of the little beings they lived amongst.

Sometimes they’d wait until the fall of night to approach human villages standing in their fields. They wouldn’t do anything just people watch, unaware of the fear they created. After all, seeing twenty something foot tall black figures in the distance with shining eyes was terrifying. Sometimes they’d help humans, clearing debris after storms when they were asleep or moving boulders and scooping up flood water. Sometimes they’d eventually interact with humans who saw them as fae like giants due to their prankster yet kind nature.

However some humans feared them to the point if violence and they’d flee once things got intense.

They’d continue their lives running around in the woods, until 1885 where they’d discover their first altmodes, both them being motorwagens. Now able to hide in plain sight they absorbed more and more human culture. With the ability to walk amongst humans they traveled further and further picking up more human languages. (Yes Hot Rod knows French)

Things would continue like this until one day the boys snuck on a boat desiring the cross the ocean. Now in the U.S they’d mimic American cars the shorter one who had a large crest on his head took the shape of a

'85 Pontiac J2000 leaving him beautiful blues while the one with vestigial wings took the form of a bright orange and yellow 1982 Chevy Nova.

The two eventually ended up in Nevada and came across the crashed Teletran-1 and they’d accidentally reactivated the ship bringing the Autobots out of stasis. Realizing they were born on Earth and knew nothing of their home Optimus took the twins in, asking their names they revealed themselves as Blurr and Hot Rod. They two basically became Optimus kids just as Bee had in the past.

They’d be taught about Cybertron and the war, and would eventually aid in the battle for Earth until the war ended peacefully in 2003.

Not detailed or anything but yup! Accidentally wrote in history as fae amongst Europe Blurr and Hot Rod lmao.

[harpermiller]

This is my brain trying to make sense of the new Eddie/Shannon/Chris timeline

With Shannon’s birth year now canonically being 1992 I thought I’d throw together a rough timeline for her and Eddie’s relationship since it seems to be confusing some people. (Although it doesn’t really matter what year these characters were born and we shouldn’t put too much thought into this bc the show retcons backstories all the time)

It’s canon that Shannon was born Oct 1992 and that Buck was born June 1992 and so logically Eddie was probably born either Sept 1990/91/92 (Edit: Its canon everyone! Eddie is a 1992 baby!). I like thinking that he’s a little older than Buck and so I’m going to stick with Eddie being born 1991. I have edited this to reflect his canon age.

I'm going to break this down by year and bold the stuff that is confirmed canon the other stuff is was I could piece together to make it make sense.

And yes I know their ages might fluctuate depending on when birthdays fall I was just making it easier on myself.

2010:

August: Shannon and Eddie have known each other since they were 14. They start dating in their senior year of high school. Shannon finds out she's pregnant, her and Eddie get married, Eddie enlists in the army (Shannon: 18, Eddie: 18)

Basic training is about 10 weeks plus 16 weeks of medic training so Eddie is away at basic for 26 weeks total (Sept 2010 - Jan 2011)

2011:

Eddie finishes basic in Jan 2011 and goes on his first tour in Feb 2011

Tours are anywhere between 7 and 15 months - lets say Eddie's first tour was 9 months

Eddie gets leave from his tour to be there for Chris' birth but has to return soon after (Shannon: 19, Eddie: 19).

2011-2013:

Eddie is in the army on tours and periodically home

Eddie misses Chris' diagnosis

2013:

Eddie re-enlists without telling Shannon (Shannon: 21, Eddie: 21, Chris: 2)

From my research enlistments are usually 4 years in active duty and two years inactive. However, after you've completed active duty you can extend or re-enlist for another four of active duty. This would align with Eddie's timeline as 2010-2014 would be his first contract and he re-enlisted in 2013 to start his second contract as soon as his first is done.

2015:

Eddie's helicopter gets shot down and Eddie is discharged early from the army (Shannon: 23, Eddie: 23, Chris: 4)

Eddie is a Staff Sergeant at this point which is possible for his age just not common

Shannon leaves to take care of her dying mother

2017:

Helena and Ramon try to take Chris from Eddie

Eddie and Chris leave El Paso for LA

Eddie starts at the Fire Academy (Shannon: 25, Eddie: 25, Chris: 6)

2018:

Eddie joins the 118

Shannon returns and dies

(Shannon: 26, Eddie: 26, Chris: 7, Buck: 26)

Do with this as you will :)

[bigmilk-13]

Introducing my Carmen Sandiego OC's: Part 1

Florian Lafayette-Meadows

CS x Alex Rider AU

They have heterochromia (ironic) so they have different eye colours. One eye is a mix of grey and blue with a dark brown around the outside- while the other is grey mixed with forest green.

Character info-

Black (dyed- he used to have blonde hair) hair with purple highlights, 28 years old, 6'0, he/him and they/them pronouns

V.I.L.E Agent who then leaves and creates their own squad. Their codename was the Purple Guy, since they had purple and black hair, and a bit based on William Afton who was also a conman, trickster and murderer. Also, purple was his signature colour.

gay, asexual and transmasc: has been on T ever since he left CSIS, thanks to V.I L.E. Always knew they were trans- has identified as so ever since he was 11. They also knew they were aroace since 11.

Has a boyfriend- Alex Rider (he's two years younger than him)

At first wanted to be a Lawyer or Attorney but changed their mind and instead got a psychology PhD at Harvard University. He also studied political science, criminology and french but only got another PhD in pol-sci.

Insanely smart- like they are a genius. Has an IQ of around 247 and also has photographic memory- meaning if he reads or see's something, he'll remember it vividly.

Their main skill is being a conman and trickster, not loyal to anyone other than themselves. They're also insanely agile, being so fast that no one could ever catch up to them. Blame his parents for making him run track competitively in school. They were the fastest runner in their school's history and won county championships, becoming one of the fastest kids in Canada. He has insane stamina and quick ass reflexes too.

Parents-

Mother: Raquel Lafayette (later changed to Meadowes)

French but had some Italian and Spanish in-laws.

Sister: Fleur Lafayette (married a Spanish man)

Brother: Blaise Lafayette (Married an Italian man) (yes he's gay)

27 when she gave birth to Florian

32 when she died

Cause of death: Suicide

Fluent in French, English, Italian and Spanish (she learnt the last two while young- she was really smart too)

Father: Christopher Meadowes

Half Swedish-Half Portuguese (mother was Portuguese and father was Swedish, learnt both languages growing up. Moved to Canada and learnt French and English there)

Brother: August Meadowes

Lived in Canada

CSIS agent

28 when Florian was born

32 when he died

Cause of death: V.I.L.E

Fluent in English, French, Portuguese, Latin and Swedish

Backstory- tw: suicide

Well, let's start of at his birth. Florian Lafayette-Meadows, born Florence Meadowes but changed it legally after to include their mother's name and change it to their chosen name, was always a really fucking smart kid. Knew the ABC's, started saying full sentences, started walking, at a really early age. As he grew up, his parents decided that he will be homeschooled by tutors (they were really rich, but tragic ofc)

At the age of 7, Florian's father died because he was killed by a V.I.L.E operative on a mission to stop a caper. We don't know who it was, and what happened for it to lead to his death. Florian never knew that it was V.I.L.E that killed him.

Fast forward a year, Florian's mother is still heartbroken about her husband's death (they were actually a loving family, would you believe it) and her sister, Fleur, was scared about what might happen to Florian if she continued to be so depressed and sad all the time. She barely payed attention to him and just stayed in bed the entire day and cried. She lost her job and everything was falling apart. So Fleur called Blaise, who was living in Italy, and asked him to take Florian, basically adopt him, while she helps her sister get better.

Unfortunately, Raquel doesn't get better and on Florian's 8th birthday hangs herself in the bathroom, tired of it all, just wanting to see Chris again.

Florian doesn't celebrate their birthday anymore after that, in fact, they dread the day and use it as the only day were they can relax, break down, and just cry.

Fast forward, Florian's 11 years old. Using the good old internet they finally find out why they've been feeling as if they were a male the whole time. Looking at everything from the male perspective, dressing masculine, and even cutting their hair to look more like a boy.

They were transgender.

During this time, they were still living in Italy with Blaise and his husband, Raphael. They told him about the LGBT community and kept him educated on all that kind of stuff. Pretty wholesome. But ofc it doesn't last long-

At age 14, turns out CSIS wanted Florian to join them as an teen spy to help with missions that required smaller people. I mean- big ass buff agents wouldn't be able to infiltrate through vents but smaller and younger also buff agents can, right?

And his father was basically training him up for joining CSIS his whole life so in the end he accepted their offer and decided to join, maybe not officially but on contract. They'll use him when necessary.

Florian worked for them till he was -- before being sent undercover to V.I.L.E. They made it look like he stole a hard-drive filled with classified information and used it to their advantage.

He sent it to an important, high classed black-market auction and got an invite as a auctioneer. That's when he met V.I.L.E, who was trying to buy the drive. He bid against them, undercover, to try get them to pay more, and in the end got around £3 million.

Countess Cleo, who was there at the time bidding for the drive, realised that she had been tricked and instead of being angry, invited Florian to join V.I.L.E, to which they gladly accepted. When he joined, Carmen was doing her do-over year and they basically became "enemies at first sight". He was 14 years older than her.

After a year, V.I.L.E wanted them to apply for university, since he was by far their smartest, strongest and most skilled student (broke all the records that Black Sheep set) so they wanted them to have a PhD, which lasted 4 years.

Got into Harvard at --, then got bachelor's in criminology and french. At age --, decided to go for two PhD's in pol-sci and psych, which lasted 4 years. So at --, officially came back to V.I.L.E and worked for two years against his mortal enemy, Carmen Sandiego...

Who then told him that V.I.L.E killed his dad...

Yupppp, your "family" didn't tell you they killed your biological dad so your mortal enemy did. It was like this whole dramatic scene, where Florian had a mental breakdown and left V.I.L.E without saying a word, and disappeared of the face of the Earth.

After a few months, no one can find them, not even Team Red, not even V.I.L.E. Until they contact Carmen and send her a secret address. Turns out that it's a hidden manor, in the middle of nowhere in Austria. Carmen went and everything was explained, this was Florian's home and they had a new team now, called Team Purple, because that was his signature colour. It was similar to Team Red, just definitely filled with older people and a bit more organised. They all lived in the manor together and it seemed like the Purple Guy finally had found a family. Carmen and Florian sorted out their indifferences and became great friends, Florian saying that if she ever needed help, a place to stay or some manpower, that he, his team and the manor was always available for her use.

*Boys Will Be Bugs by Cavetown starts playing*

Anyyywhooo, welcome to the end!If you've read this far, you deserve a cookie (🍪) and a pat on the back because HOLY SHIT THIS TOOK A WHILE (legit like two weeks). Thank you so much for reading Florian's backstory and I'm sorry if stuff isn't written coherently cos this is NOT BETA READ. I tried making this as realistic as possible, eventhough this dude is essentially a genius. Anyway I won't bore you with my writing anymore, be ready for part 2 and 3- part 2 being my main oc who has her own account btw @official-florence-meadowes

[tamaruaart]

YOU

Grant us your oc’s delicious lore, anything that comes to mind first-

Ah tysm for asking

(btw I apologize for this being long af 😔)

So I feel like I should prep this by saying before I figured out about LMK I was super into OPS's jttw series. So I made Zhao with the context of the book, and the book doesn't sugar coat things so Zhao's backstory is a bit uhhh, mature? There's no nsfw stuff but there is a lot, lot, loottt of angst (even though the backstory is kinda "simple"), so forgive me :'(

I did change up her backstory a bit for the LMK version because it is a kids show and I don't feel like the creators would stick with the dark tone of the original. Whenever I write OCs for sertant shows I try to write it with the context of "How would the creator tackle this if my oc was a Canon character?" Yk? You don't write a depressed, emo, Greek hero for a light hearted magical girl show.

So ye, this first segment will be her JTTW backstory sum-up and I'll note what is changed in the LMK version at the end👍

JTTW/original backstory(this is long, read at your own risk)-

-Zhao wasn't raised in the best household.. Not only was her father a total womanizer with 3 wives (at the time of her birth, by now he has 7) and who knows how many mistresses, but her elder family member were pretty verbally abusive. I mentioned before but Xiaotian and Biao-Qi (Zhao's father and grandfather) wanted Zhao to be born as a male because in their clan its essential for the first born of every generation to be a boy, so when they found out about Zhao being a girl they were really salty and thought of her as "The disgrace" of the family. (hence why Zhaoyan is a name generally given to Chinese boys, which yea Xiaotian is the type of douche-bag to chose the name of the child at the start of his marriage without the mothers approval)

-Zhao was the one basically raising her younger siblings because her parents couldn't be bothered to, Pangfua (Zhao's mom) couldn't even bare to look at Xiaotian's face so the last thing she cared for was some random children of him and his mistresses, and Xiaotian's other wifes didn't really care for the children either. However, Zhao ADORED her siblings because she was always good with little kids. But as time went on and on, with so many children coming in to the household she started getting tired, but what could she do? At the time she was barely a teenage girl, if she complained to her father she could legitimately be at risk to lose her head. Like I said, Xiaotian couldn't care less about Zhao, he doesn't give a damn if she likes taking care of her siblings or not.

-Eventually Zhao grew too tired of her family, and decided to leave. This might seem selfish but holy frick, the girlie felt like a maid, and it's not like she doesn't care for her family, it's that they couldn't care less about her. All of her siblings were old enough to take care of each other and the other family members treated them well, why shouldn't she be able to "go live her own life"?

- The first place she went was to a temple dedicated to the Chinese tiger spirit- Hu Ye. The reason she went to him specifically was because he was sort of the protector/symbol of Zhao's family (for context think about how Apollo was the protector of the Trojans in the Iliad), she prayed to him all night, she asked humbly to become a Jade Maiden that serves Guan Yin (because that was probably the best option. Also just so you have context- Hu Ye blessed the girls in Zhao's family with a healing gift. So basically they could heal any illness, wound, missing limb etc...). But to her surprise Hu Ye saw what she did as "unforgiving". You shouldn't leave your family who loves you so much, not cool >:( (cut him some slack tho, whenever to family would worship him they would make them self's seem like the most perfect people ever). And so in short he gave her flaming orange hair so she never forgets that she is a Tiger Maiden (bcz orange=tigers and he just be petty like that bro).

-Eventually she went to the woods but she was found by Lánhūa- a forest spirit. Lánhūa took pity on her and decided to take her in as one of her nymphs. Because Zhao had the healing gift she was a great addition to the palace Lánhūa lived in, Zhao was always the one making sure everyone was healthy and the worst someone suffered was a common cold, and even those wouldn't last long.

-However one day while she was collecting fruits for the palace she stumbled upon a strange noise near a mountain, she went to check what it was and wouldn't you have guessed its good ol' Sun Wukong. The pair fairly quickly became friends, Zhao would often tell him stories and keep him company and Sun (who was under that damn mountain for 346 years by the time he and Zhao met) would listen and tell her his life stories.

-At the early stages of the jttw Monkey actually did try and convince Zhao to come with him and the other pilgrims, she would be the one taking care of Tripitaka and making sure he stays healthy. Zhao refused at first but after some time she agreed. Her and Tripitaka were very close because they were both kinda the "sane ones" of the group and Zhao took her position very seriously. Sanzang eventually noticed that this was a bit weird considering how layed back the other pilgrims were, so he confronted her and Zhao opened up to him. And that's how I'd show her backstory in the book.

So in short: Girl leaves abusive family and prays to god, god makes her a ginger and she gets adopted by a hot forest spirit. A monkey befriends her and convinces her to give free health care to his friend **emotional**

Holy crap that took so long to write/ Notes on how her backstory would probably be changed in the lmk version:

In the lmk version I think they'd tone down how bad her family was just a bit, again it is a kids show. I think the start would generally be the same but that Hu Ye would grant her wish. But instead of a disciple for Guan Yin I think they'd change it into a Peach Maiden, so that she could meet the brotherhood and befriend Wukong like she did in the original backstory. They'd probably remove Lánhūa as well (because she is a very minor character in Zhao's backstory). So yea in short of what I think the creators of LMK would do with her character: -Hu Ye grants her wish of becoming a Peach Maiden. -Orange would be her natural hair color(bcz tigers woo). -I honestly think they'd give her a sort-of survivor's guilt because of the whole "leaving your family" thing instead of "Ama give u tiger hair so you never forget how you left your family >:(" -She meets the brotherhood through their lil' rebellion -Healing powers would probably be toned down a bit so there's still some risk

So ya-

Again thank you SO much for the question and thank you for coming to my Ted talk

[midnightstarshadow]

can i hear about your god au?

Yes, you may, and I am now going to ramble about it :D

I'm gonna turn it into a series of fics soon (It's called Breaking Prophecies and Fulfilling Them) so if you don't want lore spoilers, you can wait, I guess .w.

So basically, the God of Knowledge (Sci, because whenever something goes wrong, people go to him) has the ability to know about the future and he doesn't like spitting out prophecies because people tend to hyper-fixate on them

I mean, just look at Bruno from Enchanto and you'll understand how he feels

But when Sci gets startled, the prophecies tend to slip out and in this AU, there are two main prophecies

Darkness will rise and be purged by the Sun's chosen

Darkness is not good, obviously, and the Gods would like it if their worshippers were not threatened because they need to draw their power from somewhere

However, Sci accidentally lets another prophecy slip when he hears the God of Fear (Nightmare, obviously) has some fun with a mortal (Killer) and gives birth to a demi-god

The Sun's chosen will be deterred from defeating the darkness by the child of the moon

Crescent realizes the other gods don't like him except he doesn't know it's because of his prophecy since Nightmare didn't tell him and thinks it's because of his mortal lineage :(

So he goes to the mortal realm with the God of Marriage and Fertility's help (Lust, who treats him like a grandson) and meets Cross, a demon who has been raised in slavery

Cross was beginning to lose hope in the Gods because he kept praying for one of them to help him get free from this mistreatment and did not receive an answer until Crescent came along and helped him, inadvertently preventing Cross's villain backstory

Cross no longer has a reason to be mad at the Gods (as he thinks Crescent is a minor one because he recognizes the language he speaks as the gods' language, even if he can't understand it) and instead wants to pay back Crescent's help by serving him because that is what he was raised to do, after all, and Crescent is good to him, unlike the people he has served in the past

Crescent does not realize that Cross is attempting to serve him and thinks that they're friends now, which he is very happy about because who doesn't want friends?

They later meet Swap, a priest who was given a mission by the God of Joy (Dream, of course) to kill a very specific demon

Swap eventually realizes this demon is Cross, but is very confused because Cross doesn't seem very hostile unless you threaten Crescent, which Swap would never plan on doing because that's not who he is and even if it was, he also thinks Crescent is a fully-fledged God and no priest wants to get on a God's bad side

He starts ignoring Dream's wishes to kill Cross, telling him that he won't kill someone who has done no harm to anyone which in turn confuses Dream because this demon is literally prophecied to attempt to destroy the world

He then begins to look into things and once he realizes what's going on, he thinks it's the funniest thing ever and waits for the other gods to figure out what's happened

Meanwhile, Nightmare's looking for his son who has apparently become an adventurer

This entire AU hinges on a bunch of silly misunderstandings, none of which are actually harmful because we all need a little crack treated seriously in our lives sometimes :3

[clarenecessities]

✨🍀 re: wow toons (idk what that is so pls enlighten me!)

AHAHAHA YES!!!! <-sicko voice

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

these go hand in hand so i'm doin' 'em together >:3c so wow toons are what you call your different world of warcraft characters, of which i have... 12? 15? some multiple of three. i shall describe each of them in turn bc you've inadvertently activated my trap card.

Sétanta - my very first wow character. he's a worgen bc obviously i'm going to pick the werewolf race, come on. i made him a druid bc i heard you could turn into even more animals and this pleased me. He's named for Cú Chulainn (Hound of Culann), who renamed himself that as a kid. I pronounce it 100% wrong, with an /s/ at the start and a /t/ in the middle, but that's what happens when you learn all your words by reading as a small child. i pronounced seamus See-Miss until i was like 16. it could be worse.

Seidrin - As I was fleshing him out i accidentally went way too hard on his mom's backstory, so when I wanted to make a tank she was the natural choice. her dad is the wolf god Goldrinn, who I decided (fancifully) to pretend was named for galdra, one of the kinds of norse magic. -inn being the masculine name suffix, i changed it tothe feminine -in and named her for seiðr magic instead. went with a d instead of a th bc logan very wisely pointed out the "-drin-" mirrors Goldrinn.

Crimthann - Sétanta's dad. I wanted to make a healer and I was like you know what would be really funny? If I named his dad after another guy who renamed himself for an animal. And Crimthann (an old irish name meaning 'fox') is often alleged to be the birth name of St. Colmcille, 'church dove'. so i made him a priest but unfortunately priests are very boring to play so he's... languishing.

Donn - I wanted to make a Horde character but I didn't know how to play anything but a druid so I was like... surely, this will work. I was gonna name him Donn Cúailnge after the Brown Bull of Cooley but it turns out you can't put spaces in the names. But Donn (shockingly) wasn't taken so... here he is! Tauren druid!

Jettion - I was bullied into making a dracthyr, the newest race, bc they have a fun starting quest. Dragons in wow have name suffixes according to their 'flight' (color) and he's a male black dracthyr (who are like anthro dragons) so his name had to end in -ion, and often the black flight's names start with shades of blade, so... it was either Jetion or Jettion, and I liked Jettion better bc it looks like Jettison.

Shannock - We all made vulpera, the little fox people together. but i'd already used the name Crimthann. so I was like 'maybe sionnach'? but if you can believeit some bastard already snagged it. so i went with a rough anglicization. i should play him more.

Lokworg - I've twice been bullied into making a monk bc supposedly they get fun later on & i just need to keep doing quests with my pals, but my pals are much faster than i am and outstrip me quickly. The first monk i deleted bc i don't care about him and honestly lokworg's not doin' much for me either. His name's orcish, lok is song/cry (noun) and worgs are the large, extra smart wolves orcs ride as mounts. More or less 'direwolf song'.

Rumpelteazer - Peer pressured into doing the worgen starting quest & I wanted someone who could learn to pick locks one day, so rogue it was! Originally named Scátha (irish for shade but also kind of an oblique reference to scáthach, the scottish warrior woman who trained Cú Chulainn (and my own pseudohistorical ancestor)), but I kept pronouncing it wrong and was listening to Cats 1998 soundtrack and... well... he's a rogue! and Mungojerrie was taken!

Ulfhedrinn - in keeping with the norse theme, he's named after the Ulfheðnar (singular Ulfheðinn, wolf+what's basically a hooded vest made of fur) that were an appropriately lupine variety of berserkers. I wanted to make a Horde healer and i was like you know... i haven't made this insane little family big enough yet.

Galdrulf - Okay, honestly? He was supposed to be Ulfhedrinn. We were starting with new Horde characters and we were gonna level together, but I got so lost in the customization sauce that I forgot Ulf's particular flavor of orc starts at level 10 instead of 1. So I panicked and made a warrior, and I named him galdr+ulf bc I'm not very creative under pressure.

Fuil - Bullied into making a dark iron dwarf but i'm not clear on why bc we never got farther than unlocking them? guys? are we doing anything with these? irish for blood bc he's going to be a Blood Death Knight. one day. probably.

Tigernmas - I was peer pressured into making a Demon Hunter, whom I wanted to name Crom but noooo, that was 'taken', so I named him after a pseudohistorical king that got himself and 75% of the men in Ireland killed worshipping Crom Cruach.

you know i'm sensing some themes here. a lot of irish. a lot of peer pressuring. jesus christ is seidrin my only woman? she doesn't even use the fpose model no wonder they keep he/himming me