#and our bday is like 3 days apart

[yvmoveon]

i'm really glad i ended changing lash techs because the place i go to is so fun, it's like a family vibe. latin business but the music and the techs are all so so so nice, are about the same age and just generally good ppl.

[senascoop]

TIL DEATH DO US PART , S.JY !

PAIRING: husband ! jake × afab reader

SYNOPSIS: In an arranged marriage where sparks never flew, you finally chose divorce as the only path to freedom. But when your husband died in a sudden accident, life took an unexpected turn, binding you to a reality marked by guilt, grief, and the shadows of unfulfilled words. Now, you must navigate a world that holds him forever gone.

GENRE: fluff + angst

WARNING(S): not proofread, kissing, dirty jokes, a little bit suggestive, mentions of suicide and death, insecurities, mentions of pregnancy. lmk if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 16.2K

FEAT: JAY from ENHYPEN + some ocs

MASTERLISTS ARCHIVE !!

NOTE FROM SENA ┊ had this idea going from quite a lot of time (two months lol) though i wasn't sure of posting it... but here you go i guess. was supposed to post this a day ago for Jake’s bday (🎂) but I hope this still works. definitely won't claim this as one of my best works but hope it's not too bad. would love to know your opinions <3

DEAR JAKE,

I’m sorry, but I can’t continue living like this. I’m leaving. Our marriage has become a constant battle, and I believe we’re both suffering more by holding on than we would by letting go. I know neither of us wanted it to come to this, and I wish things were different. But deep down, I think we’re better apart. I hope one day you’ll understand.

With regret, Y/N.

TEARS BLURRED YOUR VISION AS YOU STARED AT THE CRUMBLED NOTE IN YOUR HAND—the one you had written to Jake months ago. The one that now felt like a curse. Your hands shook as you traced the familiar words, guilt twisting your insides. I’m leaving. I’m sorry. He had never known the true weight of those words. And now he never would.

The police had found it in his pocket. They said he’d carried it with him, even after everything. Even when he... when he was gone.

You collapsed onto the couch, clutching the note like a lifeline, but it only felt like a reminder of how far you had pushed him. How much you had wanted out, and now, how deeply you regretted it. A year together, two lives constantly at odds, and it had ended in this way. A divorce that never came, an accident that did. You didn’t want this, didn’t want him gone, but now, all you had was this—regret, and a body that was too still in your bed to hold. The anger, the frustration of him being gone—it consumed you, ate at your soul.

Why couldn’t you have waited?

You had hoped time apart would fix things, give you both breathing room. But he hadn’t lived long enough for you to see the good you could have made of it. The guilt ate you alive, deeper than the frustration ever had. You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have known, but deep down, the truth stung. Your note had been his last reminder of your marriage. His last memory. He had carried your rejection right until the end.

Would things have been different if you hadn’t written that letter?

The thought raked at your mind like shards of glass, shredding everything in its path. What if you had kept fighting for him, for the marriage? Would he have been here? Would you have learned to love him? Or would he still have left, still have been gone, no matter what?

Your thoughts flickered back to moments with him—so small, so easy to overlook. The way Jake had rolled his eyes every time you’d scolded his niece Semi for spilling juice, or how he had tried to hide his smirk as he pretended to act innocent. The little things that used to irritate you, that you had never really appreciated until now.

You remembered the way he defended you against his relatives, his words sharp and protective as they made cruel comments about your body. They didn’t understand, but Jake did. He had always been there, not perfect but trying.

“She suits me well enough.”

The memory felt like a slap now, a cruel joke. You had spent so much time pushing him away, not seeing that he cared. You hadn’t seen that he had tried.

“Why couldn’t I have seen it?” you whispered to the empty room, curling up on the bed, pressing your face into the pillow. The tears soaked into the fabric, and the sobs wracked through you like a storm. Why was it only now, when he was gone, that you realized how much he had mattered?

You had never kissed him, never held him the way a wife should. You thought you had the luxury of time, but now you had nothing left but his memory. The memory of a man you barely knew but had somehow been the one constant in your life. How selfish of you to push him away. How stupid to think it was all about the fights, the annoyances, and not about the love you could have had.

“Please... Jake. I’m sorry...”

The words escaped you as your sobs grew louder, choking your breath. Your body trembled with grief, the weight of regret pressing down on you until you couldn’t breathe. If only you could undo it, go back and rewrite the note. If only you hadn’t given up on him, on the marriage, on the chance for something more.

The room felt suffocating now, as though the walls were closing in around you. What now? you thought. There was no future with him anymore. No next step. No reconciliation.

Why had you waited so long to realize how much he meant to you?

You sank deeper into your pillow, tears soaking your face and your hair, wishing for the impossible: for him to walk through the door, to come back, to make everything okay again. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

And all that was left was you. And the note.

YOUR MOTHER IN LAW’S HANDS TREMBLE AS SHE EXTENDS THE ANCESTRAL RING TOWARDS YOU, her eyes glistening with raw grief. The ring's delicate gold band catches the light, an unwanted reminder of everything Jake represented—strength, love, an unfinished story.

“He wanted you to have this… but I never thought I’d give it to you now. Not like this,” she whispers, her voice breaking before dissolving into quiet sobs. The sound is so raw it scrapes at your heart. For a moment, the room feels unbearably small, closing in with the suffocating weight of shared loss.

You stare at the ring, fingers hovering uncertainly. The thought of accepting it feels like admitting he’s really gone. Yet, you know you can’t refuse it; Jake’s wish, even unspoken now, feels sacred. You slip the ring onto your finger, a silent acknowledgment of the man you had once promised yourself to, a man you’ll never get the chance to truly know.

With a hesitant step forward, you place your hand on her shoulder, the touch meant to soothe but feeling fragile, as though it could shatter under the weight of her grief. The older woman leans into you, body racked with tremors as she buries her face in her hands. Her sobs rise and fall in uneven waves, echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“Please… don’t cry,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and cracking at the edges. The night had drained you, leaving your eyes dry yet still burning, poised for more tears that you no longer had the strength to shed.

Her grief pierces deeper. “He wouldn’t want to see you in pain,” you add, voice low, carrying the weight of a plea that even you don’t believe.

“I-I know,” she manages between sobs, her shoulders trembling. “But… he was so young, so full of life. It should’ve been me, not him. He barely started his life, and now…”

The room seems to warp under the heaviness of her words. You know she’s right. The unfairness of it all gnaws at you. But what would Jake want? The question echoes in your mind, clawing for answers you wish you didn’t have to seek.

You close your eyes for a brief second, conjuring his face in your memory—the way his smile would sneak out when he thought you weren’t looking, the stubborn tilt of his chin when he was determined. You imagine him here, telling you what to do, how to be strong for her when he couldn’t be.

Drawing in a shaking breath, you shift, wrapping your arms around your mother-in-law. She stiffens for a heartbeat before collapsing into the embrace, her body convulsing with grief. Her head rests on your shoulder, and you stroke her back, the gesture rhythmic, almost desperate, as if the act itself could soothe the unsoothable.

“My poor boy… he must’ve been so scared, so alone in those final moments,” she chokes out, and it’s as if a knife twists in your chest. The image of him in pain, of his last moments, blurs the edges of your control. A tear slips down your cheek, a singular escape among the multitude waiting behind your lashes.

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you whisper, barely audible. The guilt is relentless, intertwining with the ache of loneliness that had settled deep within you long before he passed. You were alone when he was alive, and now that emptiness has transformed, sharpened by grief, into something more unbearable.

Her sobs quiet, just enough for her to lift her head and take in your expression, your tears mingling with unsaid words. She studies you, eyes clouded by grief but touched with understanding.

“You must feel so alone too… You and Jake… barely had time,” she murmurs, her voice a weak echo of empathy.

The silence stretches, heavy and uncertain. You meet her gaze and see the exhaustion, the pain mirrored back at you. It anchors you for a moment, before she speaks again.

“You’re still young. You should think of moving forward one day. Remarry, maybe… You’ll always be like a daughter to me, but you have to live, too.”

Your heart clenches, rejecting the thought. You don’t want to. The ache of wanting Jake, even in a marriage that had felt distant, is a raw wound you can’t imagine healing. The loneliness was familiar; life without him is uncharted, unbearable.

“I won’t… I can’t,” you admit, voice shaking as the tears finally spill, unchecked. “I just want him back. Even if it means being lonely again.”

The words break you open, and this time, neither of you tries to stop the crying. You hold each other in the ruins of shared loss, hoping, against hope, that the pieces of your shattered hearts will one day feel less sharp.

YOUR HANDS CHILLED FROM THE BRISK AIR, DIG DEEPER INTO YOUR COAT POCKETS AS YOU GAZE OUT INTO THE SWIRLING SNOW, a faint numbness settling in your bones. Each snowflake that brushes against your cheek feels colder than the last, a physical reminder of the frost that’s taken root in your heart, a void Jake's absence left behind. Life has lost its rhythm, its purpose, and the bustling world seems foreign, moving on a beat you no longer recognize.

Nursing, once a passion that filled your heart, now feels suffocating. The once-simple act of caring for patients, seeing them through their darkest times, now stirs something darker inside you—an envy for their hope, their chances. These creeping, bitter thoughts had scared you enough to step back from the only profession you knew. The faces of crying relatives haunted your dreams, their grief striking chords too familiar, too close. You’d sworn to heal, never harm, yet here you are, carrying shadows of guilt too heavy to bear.

The café’s warmth hits you as you push through the door, a momentary comfort against the gnawing cold. You shuffle forward, fingers fumbling in your pocket for money as your eyes wander the room. Jake had always spoken fondly of this place, a little corner shop with its cozy mismatched chairs and the sweet aroma of cocoa and baked pastries. A small pang clenches your chest, regret whispering its usual 'what ifs.' If only you’d agreed to visit here with him, if only time hadn’t been a cruel master.

The barista, a young woman with weary eyes, glances up as she speaks. “Ma’am, are you ordering?” Her voice, though polite, carries a slight impatience with the growing line behind you.

“Ah, yes… a cold coffee,” you manage, the words falling flat as if they don’t quite belong to you. Her brows lift, a flicker of confusion.

“In this weather?” she asks, a hint of genuine concern lacing her tone.

Realizing the absurdity, you swallow, forcing a small, resigned nod. “Hot chocolate then,” you say, the warmth of Jake’s recommendation tugging at the edges of your memory.

The exchange is brief, the hot drink pressed into your hands a minute later. As you turn to leave, the weight of the ancestral ring around your finger pulls at you, its cool surface grounding and yet suffocating. The bittersweet metal reflects a dull glow, a silent reminder of promises made and broken, of the love lost and the void left behind.

The wind picks up outside, tugging at your coat as you sip the hot chocolate. Its warmth spreads through you, but it’s fleeting, never enough to touch the ache within. You shake your head, Jake’s face vivid in your mind, his teasing smile as he’d planned your future dates. You’d push the thought aside, but every step feels like dragging a part of him behind you.

“Why can’t I let go?” you murmur, voice snatched away by the icy air. Your brother-in-law’s words echo in your mind, urging you to stop living in Jake’s shadow. But how do you tear yourself away from the ghost of a love that never got to finish its story?

Snow clings to your coat as you continue to trudge through the city, each step heavy with an ache that refuses to fade. The glow of the streetlights bathes the snow in a warm, golden hue, contrasting the bitter chill that settles in your chest. Sipping the hot chocolate, you try to focus on the warmth sliding down your throat, but the sweetness only sharpens the emptiness inside. The steam curls from the cup, a fleeting comfort as your breath mingles with it in the frigid air.

You pause near a park bench, eyes darting to couples bundled up, their laughter piercing through the quiet snowfall. One couple stands close, the man adjusting the scarf around his partner’s neck with a smile that makes your heart clench. You bite the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper sharp on your tongue as you fight back the sting in your eyes. The jealousy gnaws at you, sour and uninvited.

The memory of Jake’s voice flits through your mind, warm and teasing: “Good things happen to good people.” You scoff, the bitterness in that statement now a cruel joke. Were you not good enough? The universe seemed to think so, because it had ripped him away, leaving a hollow shell in his place.

Lost in thought, you find yourself on the bridge, fingers trailing over the iron railing that has frosted over, leaving cool streaks on your gloves. This place, once so filled with light and memories, feels haunted now. You trace a path where your and Jake’s hands once met, where laughter and shared secrets once echoed.

A voice, small and familiar, intrudes on your thoughts. Semi’s question echoes, fragile and innocent: “Aunty, when will Uncle come home?” You close your eyes, the lump in your throat thickening as the memory sharpens. You remember her wide, unknowing eyes searching yours for an answer you couldn't give, the guilt of that half-truth searing into you as you whispered, “I’m not sure, sweetie.”

You grip the railing tighter, feeling the cold seep through your gloves as the ache of regret claws at your heart. The river below moves steadily, unaffected by the chaos in your chest. You look down, watching the water catch the light in rippling patterns, your reflection distorted and wavering. The noise of the city fades as you breathe in the freezing air, each exhale a shuddering attempt to steady yourself.

A gust of wind stings your face, and you force yourself to look up, straightening with a resolve that feels fragile. Jake’s brother and his wife were inside your apartment, their watchful eyes filled with concern disguised as casual chatter. You know why they stay—it’s not out of pity, but out of fear, a silent agreement to keep you tethered when your world felt like it was splitting at the seams.

The laughter from the park drifts over again, mingling with the hum of distant traffic. For a moment, you let yourself remember the warmth of Jake’s embrace, the way he’d nudge your shoulder and murmur, “Life doesn’t stop, even when we want it to.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” you whisper into the night, the words barely a breath as they dissolve in the chill.

The warmth of the hot chocolate fades as the biting wind grazes your skin, a cruel reminder of the numbing void left behind. You stare at the bridge, eyes tracing the railings where Jake’s laughter once echoed. A memory surfaces, unbidden yet vivid.

“I know this isn't what either of us planned, but... I wish we could work it out,” Jake had said, a touch of hesitation softening his confident voice. His hands, hesitant but steady, hovered near you, respecting the space you held between.

“I wish that too,” you had murmured, the lie sliding off your tongue too easily. You’d convinced yourself you didn't care enough for Jake then, but the pang of that memory now gnawed at your insides. Regret had a way of reshaping the past, twisting even the most indifferent moments into sharp blades.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Jake had prodded gently, eyes bright even as he leaned down to meet your gaze.

Caught off guard, you’d raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” The question felt foreign, untouched by anyone's curiosity until now.

“Your ideal type,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting as though challenging you. His height had always made you tilt your head back to catch his expression—a detail that now felt like a cruel nostalgia.

“Why would you ask that?” You'd played along, teasing but curious.

Jake chuckled, the sound resonant and warm. “Because we're getting married, and maybe knowing each other better will make it feel less... strange. Maybe, just maybe, we'll fall in love.” His hand, finally settling on your shoulder, had felt reassuring, a silent promise in its touch.

The memory cleaves through you like a knife, leaving behind a raw wound that no time or distance can heal. A single tear slips down your cheek as you blink, the reality of the moment washing over you like a wave. The park across the street bustles with couples walking hand-in-hand, laughter and warmth breaking through the cold that wraps around you. A fresh ache takes root, sharp and relentless.

You drop the empty cup into the trash can, the metallic clang breaking your reverie. The grief, heavy and suffocating, presses you to the edge as you turn and begin the long walk home. Your footsteps are heavy, every step an effort against the pull of the past.

“Aunty, you're so late. Did you bring Uncle with you?” Semi’s small voice meets you at the door, eyes bright with innocent hope. The guilt hits you like a punch, stealing the air from your lungs. Your throat tightens as you shake your head, eyes avoiding her searching gaze.

Jieun, seeing your reaction, sighs softly as she pulls Semi closer. “Semi, we talked about this, remember?” Her voice holds the practiced patience of a mother trying to shield her child from the pain.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Semi mumbles, eyes dropping to her tiny hands that fidget nervously. The sight twists your heart, guilt layering over the grief that refuses to ease.

You force a hollow smile. “It’s okay, Jieun. She's just a kid,” you say, your voice low and void of emotion as you shrug off your winter coat and hang it up. The familiar routine feels like a play you no longer wish to act in.

“Still, I just—” Jieun’s words falter as you cut her off, your voice breaking the tension.

“Please,” you murmur, the word sharp and desperate, silencing the room. The stillness that follows is suffocating, your breaths shallow as you fight to keep your composure.

Jieun's eyes search yours, understanding but hesitant. “We just don’t want you to be alone,” she whispers, her voice thick with worry.

“I know,” you reply, sitting on the couch with your head hung low, hands clenched tightly in your lap. After a long pause, you add, “But you need to leave. This is your home too, but you have your own life to get back to. I need time... time to figure out how to grieve.” Your eyes don’t lift to meet theirs; you can’t bear to see the disappointment or concern there.

Semi’s voice pipes up again, the innocence piercing through your defenses. “Are you sending us away, Aunty?”

The weight of guilt deepens, pressing into your chest. You close your eyes, feeling the sting behind your lids before you answer. “No, sweetie, I’m not sending you away. You can come whenever you want. Aunty will always be here.” The words come out flat, and you feel them land like lies in the air between you.

Jieun picks Semi up, nodding at you as if she understands, though her eyes glisten with worry. “We’ll give you some space. But we’ll check in. Don’t forget that, please.”

When the door clicks shut, silence wraps around you, heavy and thick. Your gaze shifts to the note you’d prepared earlier, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. The words, written in your own hand, feel foreign now: apologies to the people who stayed, memories they never knew you held, and the final confession of a heart too weary to go on.

You were battling with the urge to just end it all.

The rational part of your brain told you that you were young and had your whole life ahead and that you'd meet a lot of guys in your life but the stubborn heart won't give up and held onto the memory of the guy you once called your husband.

So, you gave up.

A smile, then another.

The city glows beneath you, lights sprawled like constellations cast on earth. The wind at this height is sharp, tearing through your clothes and chilling your skin, as if trying to pull you back from the edge. Your shoes scrape against the concrete ledge, the slight tremble in your legs betraying the battle waging within. The night air smells faintly of rain, metallic and crisp, mingling with the faint hum of traffic below.

You steady your phone in your trembling hand, its cold surface grounding you momentarily. A notification pings, an ironic reminder that life continues to tick on, indifferent to the turmoil within you. The camera lens reflects the shimmer of unshed tears as you hit record, the small red dot staring back like a silent witness.

A smile forms—hesitant, broken. Then another, and another, each one a mask that crumbles too soon. “To everyone who still cares,” you begin, your voice low and cracking, “Semi, sweet, innocent Semi. Jieun, always so patient. Jongseong... my husband’s shadow in every way. My sister, my friends, all of you who tried.”

The wind picks up, whipping strands of hair across your face as you pause, the weight of the unsaid pressing on your chest. You blink rapidly, tears slipping free, their warmth stinging against your cold cheeks. “Jake wouldn't want this. I know he'd call me stubborn, weak even.” You let out a hollow laugh, the sound swallowed by the wind. “But he wouldn’t understand how loud it is in the silence he left behind.”

Your heart hammers as you shift your weight, the city seeming to inhale with you, holding its breath in anticipation. The edge of the building digs into the soles of your feet, the space between you and the world below both terrifying and liberating.

“I miss the little moments, Jake,” you whisper, voice breaking as you squeeze your eyes shut. “I miss you making me feel lonely, and now... now I’m lonelier without you.” The ache in your chest is unbearable, a cavernous void that steals your breath.

One last deep breath, air burning through your lungs, and you step forward. The world blurs into a rush of sound and sensation—wind roaring in your ears, your body weightless, suspended in a moment between despair and peace.

And then the fall hits.

Pain surges through you, sharp and overwhelming, before darkness takes over. Around you, the chaos erupts into a cacophony—screams, the frantic pounding of feet, and the sharp cry of ambulance sirens slicing through the night. But these sounds are drifting away, becoming faint murmurs from a world slipping out of reach.

Silence wraps around you, one that made you feel like everything would be okay after this. Maybe, just maybe, peace waits on the other side. In death.

YOU WALK THROUGH THE DENSE, MILKY FOG, EACH REVERBERATING IN AN ECHO THAT NEVER QUITE SETTLES. The air is cool, feather-light, whispering like distant memories. Is this heaven? The question circles in your mind, unspoken. If it is, where is Jake? A quiet laugh escapes your lips, hollow. He couldn’t have done enough wrong to land in hell, you think, the hint of humor biting through your longing. Yet, the anticipation twists your heart—an ache that makes you want to see him so desperately.

You try to call out, “Jake?” but the sound stays trapped in your chest, choked by the thick fog. Another step forward and there’s nothing but endless white, stretching out, swallowing you whole. Your breath catches; suddenly, the air thins, compressing your lungs, squeezing out every ounce of oxygen. You gasp, your hands clawing at the invisible force stealing your breath. It feels like drowning in emptiness.

Then—without warning—everything shifts. White light erupts around you, blinding and all-consuming. You brace for oblivion, muscles tensing for an end you’re sure is near. But instead, there’s a softness beneath you—a mattress that cradles you like an embrace you forgot.

Your eyes snap open, pupils adjusting to the familiar pale ceiling. It’s your ceiling. Your shared room. The bed, the faint scent of Jake’s cologne still lingering in the sheets, as if he just left. You sit up, heart thundering, hands brushing over your body frantically. No pain, no bruises, no broken bones—nothing. You’re whole, intact.

Then the realization hits you like cold water, and your fingers tremble as you pull them away.

“What the…?” you murmur, eyes darting around, seeking answers that the silent room won’t give. Your gaze falls to the phone on the bedside table, its screen blank and mocking in its stillness. You grab it, breath hitching as the time blinks to life.

January 29th, 2024. 6:30 a.m.

A shiver races down your spine. The date stares back at you, sharp and impossible. You set the phone down, legs feeling weak as you stand and approach the mirror. Your reflection isn’t that of a woman who has been weeping endlessly. Your eyes, dry and wide, reflect confusion rather than the storm of emotions that you carry.

“Is this one of those flashes they say you see before death?” Your voice trembles as the words escape, and you reach up to touch the cold glass. The girl looking back at you does the same, fingers meeting yours in a silent plea.

Then, your eyes catch it. The blue gel pen resting on the dresser—a pen that has no place outside your drawer. It’s a small thing, but the sight of it makes your breath hitch. Memories slice through you, sharp and unforgiving. That pen was the one you’d used for the note to Jake, the one that demanded space, an end.

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head, bile rising in your throat. The pen feels like a cruel token, mocking you for what came after. In a swift motion, you snatch it up, the cold plastic biting into your skin as you grip it tight. The weight of your guilt, your regret, turns your stomach, and with a sudden burst of anger, you hurl the pen into the trash, its clatter punctuating the silence like a final plea.

Chest heaving, you close your eyes. If this is some kind of twisted second chance, you don’t know if you should feel terror or relief. But the room, the sheets, the absence on the other side of the bed—everything points to one impossible truth.

You’re back.

But this isn't a romance novel, is it?

Your eyes trail back to the empty bed, where Jake should be. “Jake?” The name falls from your lips, hopeful, trembling, but the silence stretches on, suffocating.

Your heart thuds like a wild drumbeat, erratic and desperate, the rhythm matched only by the single hope that propels you forward: seeing Jake. Alive. Healthy. Breathing.

You practically jog out of the shared bedroom, your bare feet sliding slightly on the hardwood floor as you turn the corner. The guest room door is ajar, a sliver of dim light illuminating the narrow hallway. The pulse in your chest quickens, breaths shallower with each step until you reach the threshold. You pause, drawing in a trembling breath before stepping inside.

There he is. Jake. Lying on his side, dark hair fanned messily over the pillow, the soft rise and fall of his chest hypnotic in its simplicity. Relief washes over you so powerfully that your knees almost buckle. You inch closer, careful not to make a sound. The blanket is snug around his torso, exposing his bare, muscular chest—the way he prefers when he’s alone. Your throat tightens at the sight, familiar yet so foreign now.

Your hand, almost on its own accord, hovers over his face, fingers trembling as you place them under his nose. The soft, warm breath that meets your touch is enough to sting your eyes with unshed tears. Your hand drifts down, resting against his chest, where you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat—a rhythm you thought you’d never sense again.

Jake stirs, the sudden shift pulling you out of your trance. His eyelids flutter open, dark eyes glazed with sleep but sharpening as they land on you. He blinks once, then again, brows drawing together.

“What are you doing?” His voice, rough with sleep, carries a note of confusion that makes your hand fall away as though burned.

“I-I…” The words snag in your throat, scrambling to make sense of the madness. How could you possibly explain? Your eyes dart nervously to the floor, heat searing your cheeks as you mutter, “I missed your kisses.”

The room freezes. You can feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with disbelief. He shifts, sitting up, and the blanket slips down to his waist, revealing the sharp lines of his torso. Your eyes betray you, flickering over the familiar planes before darting away in embarrassment.

“But… we never kiss,” he says, voice low and edged with confusion. The statement slices through you, painfully reminding you of the distance you both had grown used to.

“I know... I...” you whisper, fingers clenching into fists at your sides. The silence stretches, heavy, until the sharp trill of his phone alarm shatters it. Jake’s attention shifts, eyes narrowing as he leans to silence it. When he looks up again, the space where you stood is empty.

You rush back to your room, shutting the door behind you with a soft thud, heart hammering in your chest. Sliding down until you sit with your back pressed against the cool wood, you cover your flushed face with shaking hands. Your pulse thunders in your ears, mixing with the replay of his sleepy voice, the fleeting touch of his warmth.

Is this really the past? The question festers, tugging at the edges of logic, but the ache in your chest and the rawness of your emotions tell you it is. And if so, this year holds one horrifying certainty: Jake’s death.

The mere thought twists something deep inside you, bringing back the soul-crushing grief, the endless nights of regret. You glance down at your wrist, breath catching as your eyes lock on the ink-black date that marks it: November 4th. The day Jake dies.

Frantically, you rub at the skin, as if the stubborn mark will simply smudge away under your touch. But it doesn’t. The date remains, stark and immovable, taunting you.

A shiver crawls up your spine, but then a thought—a glimmer of defiance—roots itself.

What if you change it? What if this was given to you, not as a cruel joke, but a chance to rewrite what went so terribly wrong? To love him in a way you never did and save him from the fate that once tore your entire world apart.

“I can do this,” you whisper, determination threading into your voice. The regret may have once paralyzed you, but now it fuels you. If you only have until that date, then every second will be spent fighting fate, no matter how impossible it seems.

THE SOFT MURMUR OF THE COUPLE’S CONVERSATION DRIFTS DOWN THE STERILE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR, brushing against your ears like a whispered secret. The woman lies propped against crisp white pillows, her leg encased in a cast, eyes fixed on her partner with a blend of exhaustion and comfort. He leans forward, fingers interlaced with hers, voice low and tender.

“Can you please see what's wrong?” he asks, eyes glistening with concern. He gently squeezes her hand, words spilling out as quiet reassurances. “You're doing so well, love. It's going to be okay.”

A tight warmth coils in your chest as you approach, a familiar pang of bittersweetness shadowing the sight. The love, the unwavering devotion-it's moments like these that remind you why you cherish your job. The fragility of life, held together by threads of connection, has always moved you, even when those threads unraveled in your own life.

When you started nursing, blood was your greatest fear, the sight once enough to turn your stomach. Time had softened those edges, transforming anxiety into steady resolve. It was also during those early years when you married Jake, the man whose smile was warm enough to banish shadows but whose presence now only haunted your memories. The marriage had lasted five years before everything shattered with the crash.

No. Stop. The thought rushes at you like a wave, cold and suffocating. You grit your teeth, eyes burning as you push it down, push him down, refusing to let the grief claw at you. He's alive here, in this fragile present you've been thrust into. Don't let the past bleed into now.

“Sure,” you say softly, the practiced smile you wear settling on your face. You reach out, fingers moving gently over the girl's cast, checking the edges, ensuring everything is as it should be. She nods in silent gratitude, eyes fluttering shut with relief as her partner exhales.

The end of your shift arrives with the deep hues of twilight stretching across the sky. The drive home is long, punctuated by the soft rumble of the engine and the anxious thrum of your thoughts. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel, tapping out a nervous rhythm. Avoid home, your mind suggests, listing off a million errands you suddenly think of, any excuse to delay the inevitable.

But the excuses run dry when you're standing in front of your door, keys cold against your palm. The air outside is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you draw a deep breath and hold it. The weight of the morning—Jake's sleepy, questioning eyes and the ghost of your impulsive words-hangs between you and the door.

“Is it too late to back down?” The whisper escapes your lips, trembling in the chilly silence. You picture his expression, the puzzled furrow of his brow as he replayed your words. The way his fingers brushed over his phone, gaze lifted just in time to see you flee. He isn't stupid. Jake never was.

With a sigh, you slip the key into the lock, the click loud and final. The door opens, and warmth spills out to meet you, along with the faint scent of his cologne. Your pulse quickens as you step inside, the hum of your heartbeat louder than the quiet creak of the floor under your weight.

Don't run, you tell yourself, even as the urge coils tight in your muscles. You close the door behind you.

As you push open the front door, the faint glow of the television casts flickering shadows across the living room. There he is-your husband, Jake, reclined on the couch, eyes fixed intently on the news. His brows knit slightly as a montage of suited politicians gestures on screen, their voices droning promises as hollow as a whisper in the wind.

He is basically watching those politicians give some weird and untrue promises for the sake of votes.

How romantic. How normal. The bitter thought twists in your chest. But it isn't. Nothing about this is normal. Why would he be watching the news, of all things? Then, a pang of irony hits you like a wave. How hypocritical, you think. You promised Jake your forever in a ceremony that now feels like an echo. The vows shared between you had been spoken out loud but never truly lived.

You shake the memory away, an old wound you refuse to pick at as you step inside, the floor cool under your feet. Jake doesn't notice you at first, his attention locked on the screen, oblivious to the fact that the person who left him a note asking for space now stands in the doorway, wrestling with the tension roiling inside her.

“Hey,” you finally say, the word falling between you like an anchor. It comes out awkward, unsure, a fragile hope that he won't read too much into it. But Jake's eyes flick to yours, a spark of recognition cooling to something unreadable.

“You're back home?” His voice is measured, neither warm nor cold, but there's a tightness to it that you can't ignore. He shifts, the blue glow of the screen catching the sharp line of his jaw as he waits for your response.

The note. You had slipped it into his hand, asking for a break from a marriage four years deep but hollow. Your heart thuds in your chest, fingers clenched at your side as you speak before fear can pull the words back.

“The note-I take it back. I don't want a break from you or this relationship, Jake.”

The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the low hum of the news anchor's voice. His eyes search yours, a hint of disbelief darkening the warm brown you once memorized. “Why?” The question slices through the quiet, clipped and cautious. You almost flinch at the hardness there, a wall built brick by brick in your absence.

“Because I don't want to stay away from you.” Your voice trembles, raw honesty exposed between you like an open wound. Jake's eyes widen slightly, the stoic mask cracking as a flush creeps across his cheeks.

“Y-You're blushing?” The soft, astonished laugh tumbles out of you, a momentary break in the storm that makes you feel like you're standing on the edge of something new. The corners of his mouth twitch, the faintest sign of a smile, but he shakes his head.

“No, I'm not. I'm just... cold,” he mutters, the lie transparent.

“Sure, sir. You're just cold.” You chuckle, sinking onto the floor beside the couch, knees drawn up as you hug them close. The laughter is sharp, almost giddy, the sound foreign in the room that has held so many silences.

Jake watches you, confusion settling into his features, the red on his cheeks fading as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You're acting weird,” he murmurs, the words half swallowed, uncertain.

“How am I acting weird if I'm seeing my husband show some attraction to me, which isn't platonic, for the first time?” The jest slips out, tinged with sincerity, but it brings a hush over both of you. The truth stands stark between you, glaring and painful. For a moment, neither of you speak, each of you weighed down by memories, by the heavy knowledge of what's been lost and what still aches to be found.

But determination flares in your chest, a stubborn warmth. So what if love had been absent before? So what if promises were half-kept and hearts guarded? You could start again. You could relearn how to be two flawed people willing to try. Your gaze meets Jake's, the hope in your eyes unyielding.

Don't let go, you silently plead. Let this be the start of something real.

Jake clears his throat, a subtle attempt to dissolve the tension settling over the living room like a blanket too heavy to lift. His fingers fidget, running nervously over the seam of the couch as he shifts his gaze downward. There you are, still seated on the floor, legs tucked to one side, eyes catching the soft glow from the TV. Cute, he thinks, the word rolling silently through his mind, too heavy with unsaid truths to speak aloud.

“So...” The word escapes him, thin and unfinished, hovering in the air. His eyes flit over your face, searching for a reaction. The awkwardness clings to the silence, but you don't falter.

“So?” you echo, your tone a notch steadier, holding the slight tremor that betrays your effort. You lean forward just slightly, a gesture that feels braver than it is. If courage could rewrite fate, you'd wield it now, not just for yourself, but for him. For Jake, who might not know the sharp edge of reality that's cut you.

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing to the side where the blue light paints his profile in soft, wavering lines. “You know... Semi's birthday is next week.” His words stumble, trailing off as if second-guessing their own existence. But you aren't in the dark. You know exactly what this moment leads to.

“Yes, I'd love to go shopping for gifts for her,” you respond, your voice quick and practiced. His eyes widen, caught off guard, the surprise stark against his usual composed expression. The tension in his jaw slackens, and he blinks, unsure if he heard you right.

“Excuse me?” He stares at you, the faint crease between his brows deepening.

“Isn't that what you were about to ask?” You tilt your head slightly, a small smile playing at your lips, testing him. He hesitates, realizing that denial means trouble, but his face softens into a relieved kind of acceptance.

“No, no... of course. You could... accompany me to shop for Semi's birthday presents.” His voice picks up, the uncertainty lifting as he finds the path back to normalcy. He notices your smile widening, the tension slipping just enough to let him breathe.

“Okay then, see you tomorrow, husband.” The word slips from you, unbidden, laced with a warmth that surprises even you as you turn on your heel. You make your way toward the guest room, feet padding softly against the floor. Jake's brows knit again, eyes following your form until you pause, hand on the frame of the doorway.

“Why are you heading to the guest room?” His question is quick, a thread of confusion laced with something else-something vulnerable.

“Because we sleep apart, and I wouldn't want my husband's back to break on that stiff, rough bed. The sheets aren't even comfortable,” you say, voice light but with an edge that dares him to react. You step into the room, but glance over your shoulder with eyes that glimmer, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “Besides, I'd rather you break your back or get tired doing me than struggling on a bed.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide with stunned silence as the door closes between you. Jake sits back, eyes fixed on the now-empty hallway, replaying the moment in disbelief. The wife who barely spoke above a whisper at their wedding, who tiptoed through years of silence, had just turned the tables with a single teasing line. His pulse hammers beneath the stillness.

What on earth just happened?

“ARE YOU TELLING ME Y/N JUST TURNED INTO A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON?” Jay's voice, casual yet curious, echoes through the phone. He's speaking to Jake, who shifts from foot to foot, eyes glancing around the boutique as he waits for you to finish picking out a dress for his niece. The sound of soft music drifts around him, mixing with murmurs of other shoppers.

“Exactly that!” Jake's voice comes out louder than intended, drawing looks from the store's staff. A woman in a sleek uniform, brows raised in disapproval, approaches with a pointed glare.

“Sir, please keep your voice down or refrain from talking altogether,” she says, sternly but professional.

Jake's ears burn as embarrassment blooms across his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Through the phone, Jay's laughter rings clear and unapologetic. “You seriously got told off by staff? Man, you're killing me!” Jay's chuckles fade into a smirk that Jake can practically hear. Jay's the same as he's always been-playful, relentless, the older brother who teases but listens when it counts.

“Fine, fine, I'll stop. Tell me what you mean by Y/N changing, just... keep it PG, will you?” Jay's tone is teasing, but curiosity laces through.

Jake's jaw tightens, eyes scanning the store for you as if your sudden return would put him on the spot. “There's nothing intimate going on between us,” he blurts, the words a knee-jerk reaction. His chest tightens with the memory of you resting your hand on him in your sleep last week, the way warmth had crept through him then. He clears his throat. “I mean, she's talking to me more, being... sweet. She listens. It's almost... submissive.”

“I told you, no bedroom details!” Jay chimes in, sarcasm sharp enough to make Jake's teeth clench.

“THIS IS NOT A BEDROOM DETAIL!!!” Jake retorts, frustration coloring his tone. It earns him another hard look from the store associate across the room, who pointedly glances over her glasses. Jake sighs and mouths an apology again, shoulders drooping as he lowers his voice.

“What I mean is, she's more... attentive. She's not arguing as much. It's like she's listening to me for the first time.”

Jay's voice softens, just a hint of seriousness slipping through. “Isn't that how she always is with others?”

“Yeah, with everyone else. Just not with me,” Jake admits, the admission heavy with a history neither of them mention.

“Interesting.” Jay's reply is contemplative, but before he can say more, Jake's voice interrupts, distorted through the line. “Oh shoot, she's coming back. I'll call you later.”

As the call ends, Jake pockets his phone, glancing up just in time to see you walking back with a smile. Jay, on the other side of the city, sets his phone down, a smirk playing at his lips as he thinks of sharing this tidbit with his wife later. Whatever was happening between his brother and sister-in-law, it was about to get even more intriguing.

On the other side, Jake stands, a mixture of amusement and curiosity on his face as you hold up a tiny pink dress. It's perfectly frilly, fit for a little girl. But all he can think is how charming it would look in a size for you—a thought that makes him shake his head, realizing how ridiculous it sounds.

“So, what do you think? Should I get this for Semi?” you ask, eyes sparkling with anticipation. There's already a growing collection of clothes for his niece in your arms, a reminder of how you've embraced being part of his family.

“Are you getting all of them?” he asks, more out of shock than judgment. He never imagined children's clothes could come with such hefty price tags.

“Yes, why? Is this too much? I can cover it if—”

Before you can finish, he interrupts, affronted. “I'll pay. It's for my lady, after all.”

The statement hangs in the air, not romantic as he'd intended but awkward, making your brows twitch slightly. You resist the urge to grimace, forcing a polite smile instead.

A staff member, the same one who had shushed Jake earlier, walks over with an unimpressed expression, exchanging a silent, almost comic glare with him. She gave Jake a look that said 'you're weird and I don't want to talk to you'

'what have I ever done to you' was the look that Jake presented back to the staff before she looked away. You glance between them, slightly confused. Then Jake clears his throat, moving the conversation forward.

“Do you have a similar dress in a bigger size?” His voice drops to almost a whisper. He feels self-conscious asking, but the idea has stuck.

The staff member blinks, taken aback. “Excuse me?” She tilts her head, uncertain if she heard right.

“Yeah, do you have something like this,” Jake gestures at the dress in your hands, “but, you know, for an adult?” A flush of red creeps across his cheeks as he points to you. The staff member nods after a moment, walking off to search, while you stand there stunned, watching her go.

“Why are you buying something for me? Semi’s dress is already pricey. A woman's size will be—”

“It's just a dress,” he interrupts with a small sigh, eyes softening. “Think of it as a gift.”

“But today isn't anything special.”

“Maybe not. But I'd like to make it special,” he replies, voice lowering. “I haven't given you anything since our wedding. That was four years ago.” His words carry a quiet vulnerability as he looks at you, taller and more serious than you expect. You hold his gaze before shifting and mumbling a reluctant, “Fine,” looking away to hide the way your cheeks warm.

The staff returns holding a similar dress, but in an adult size. It's pink, short, and undeniably cute-something that looks a little too daring for your style.

“Will this do?” she asks.

“Absolutely not,” “hell yeah,” you and Jake say in unison. The staff's eyebrows raise as she turns to you, sensing you as the more level-headed one.

“We're not buying it,” you insist, giving Jake a look.

He doubles down. “We are.”

“Jake, no.”

“Why not?”

“It's too short!” you argue, exasperated. He shrugs, eyes softening as he counters, “It's knee-length. That's normal.”

With a dramatic sigh, you roll your eyes and give in. But you don't try it on in the store; the idea of wearing it in front of him makes your heart thud with a mix of nerves and embarrassment. After all, you've barely even shared a bed in weeks—how could you possibly show him a dress like that now?

JAKE’S HEART STOPS FOR A MOMENT AS HE TAKES IN THE SIGHT BEFORE HIM. You, standing in the baby pink dress that hugs your figure just right, with its soft fabric brushing just above your knees. The playful, shy smile you wear as you twirl slightly sends a wave of warmth through him. He never expected to see you like this; the reality strikes him so suddenly that it leaves him breathless.

The laughter of Semi fills the room as she runs around in her matching pink dress, giggling and pulling you along by the hand. The soft glow of the post-birthday celebration lights casts a golden hue, warming up the atmosphere in the living room. Jake sits on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on his knee as he watches you and Semi, his gaze softening with an emotion he hasn't felt in what seems like ages.

A gentle nudge breaks his trance, and he turns to see his mother looking at him with raised brows and a hopeful gleam. “When are you two going to have kids?” she asks, her voice light but laced with longing.

The air in the room shifts. You pause mid-spin, eyes darting to Jake with a look of surprise. This isn't part of the script of your past life; this question throws you off balance, the sudden attention making your heart race.

Jake's father, seated across with a glass of wine in his hand, lets out a dramatic sigh. “I think I'll be long gone before I see any grandchildren from this one,” he jokes, though the weight behind it is unmistakable. The statement slices through the room's cheerful mood, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Jake's jaw tightens, a subtle tension creeping up his spine. He wants kids too, he really does—but not in a house that feels as unstable as theirs has become.

Before he can respond, you surprise everyone, including yourself. “We're trying,” you say, the words slipping out with practiced ease, even as your pulse pounds. The room freezes, all eyes turning toward you in shock.

Jake's eyebrows lift in silent question, but he plays along, shifting to put on an unreadable expression. He nods, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he covers the uncertainty boiling beneath. The room shifts back into a mixture of excitement and surprise.

“Is that true? You're both trying?” Jake's mother's eyes glisten, her hope rekindled as she looks between you and her son.

“Really?” Jake's father echoes, leaning forward, his earlier sarcasm replaced by genuine interest.

Jay, standing near the fireplace, furrows his brow, lips parting in disbelief. Only last week, Jake had confided in him about how distant and weird things had become between you two.

Jake forces a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah... we've been trying for a while.” The lie feels heavy in his mouth, and he shoots you a look that says, Why'd you lie about that?

Your sister-in-law, Jieun, raises her hand, pointing at you with wide eyes. “Since when?” she blurts out, unable to contain her shock.

Jake stutters, “It's been a-a month,” the answer sounding rehearsed yet shaky. He glances at you again, his eyes pleading for an explanation that won't come.

The conversation quickly shifts into an excited buzz, with well-meaning wishes from your in-laws filling the air. You catch Jake's gaze, and despite the tight-lipped smile you give the family, there's a flicker of humor in your eyes. The absurdity of it all makes you want to laugh.

You both know the truth: the notion of trying for a child is impossibly far from reality.

Heck, it was funny for you to watch.

You were still a virgin. You two didn't even kiss more than once in those four years and they expect a baby to suddenly pop out of you?

And once the party winds down, you find yourself sitting on the couch with Semi by your side. Her wide, curious eyes shine with excitement as she swings her legs back and forth. At just four years old, she's a bundle of endless questions and innocent wonder.

You smile, reaching over to gently ruffle her soft, dark hair. “Does the birthday girl like her dress?” you ask, voice playful.

Semi beams, glancing down at the pink ruffled dress with pride. “It's so pretty,” she chirps, then looks up at you with a thoughtful expression. “But yours is prettier. You always look pretty, Aunty.”

Your heart melts, and you chuckle softly. “Aww, you learned how to give compliments, huh?” you tease, watching as her cheeks turn rosy and she averts her gaze to fiddle with her fingers.

“Aunty!” she whines, wanting you to stop teasing. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans in closer and motions for you to do the same. With a curious tilt of your head, you move closer, letting her whisper into your ear. “Will you eat a baby to have a baby?” she asks, voice so serious it makes you freeze for a moment.

You stifle a laugh, your eyes crinkling at the edges. Gently cupping her cheek, you whisper back, “No, sweetie. That's not how it works. But that's grown-up stuff, and we don't talk about it now, do we?”

Semi giggles, her little fingers playing with a toy she received from her grandmother. The sight makes your chest tighten in a bittersweet way. You can almost picture your mother-in-law doting on a future child, fussing over toys and tiny clothes. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, making you shake your head lightly as if to dispel the image.

But a small part of you can't help but smile at the idea, a blush rising to your cheeks. The dream is distant, almost unreachable, and not yet yours to claim.

When you and Jake step out into the cold night, the air nips at your exposed legs below your knees. The dress he had picked out for you, delicate and pastel pink, offers little warmth, and the heels are beginning to pinch with every step. You trail behind him, taking careful, aching strides to avoid twisting your ankle.

Jake notices, stopping suddenly to turn toward you, eyes scanning your shivering frame. “What’s wrong?” His gaze softens as he realizes how exposed you are, legs trembling from the chill. Without hesitating, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. The sudden warmth is welcome, but your teeth still chatter as you mutter, “Wish I had something covering my legs instead.”

He exhales, half exasperated, half amused, before a wry smile forms. “Should I carry you like a princess? You’d be warm then.”

Surprised, you bite back a retort, matching his teasing tone with confidence. “Maybe you should.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot up, stunned. “Wait, what?”

“Chill, I was just joking,” you mumble, looking down at the ground. But before you know it, he’s stopped again, this time dropping to one knee. Your eyes widen in shock. “WHAT THE HELL?” you blurt out, stepping back in reflex, heat rising to your cheeks at the unexpected gesture. (more so because you believed he was trying to look up your dress)

Jake looks up, mildly annoyed but patient. “I’m helping you,” he says simply. Before you can argue, he pulls out a pair of slippers from a little carry bag he had brought from home. The realization hits, softening your expression as he glances up. “Lift your leg.”

You comply, feeling foolish for your earlier outburst. He slips the heels off your feet and replaces them with the soft slippers, careful and precise as if proving he has no ulterior motive. The chill in the air suddenly seems less biting.

“You had these the whole time?” you ask, voice softer now, eyes wide with realization. He places the heels into the carry bag, stands up, and meets your gaze with a smirk.

“Yeah. Thought you might need them,” he says, a hint of smugness in his tone. You’re about to thank him when he reminds you with a mock-accusing look, “And you were ready to accuse me of being a pervert.”

The memory makes you feel small, but you muster a sheepish, “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, a touch of amusement in his eyes as the two of you start walking again, your steps now confident and comfortable. His jacket around your shoulders holds a warmth that seems to seep straight to your heart.

“So...” Jake’s voice cuts through the silence, the question you've been dreading finally arriving. “Why did you lie about... us trying for a baby?” His tone is cautious, probing.

You sigh, the answer already clear in your mind. “It was the only way to get them to stop bothering us,” you admit. A pause follows, your gaze flitting up to meet his. You don’t dare to say more, not with your secret burden looming—coming from a future where he is no longer alive and your mission is to keep him safe.

Jake hums in agreement, the tension easing a bit. “I can’t argue with that.” A comfortable silence settles between you, only broken by the sound of your footsteps. He glances at you again and asks, “Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, your stomach grumbles. Relief flashes across his face before he reaches out, taking your hand and leading you forward. The two of you approach a small, tucked-away restaurant, its sign faded but familiar. Jake’s eyes light up. “You have to try the cold coffee from that café across the street,” he points out, the fondness in his voice unmistakable.

You nod, memories flickering back. His odd, endearing preferences were things you never forgot. “Fish curry with plain rice and some shrimp on the side?” you guess, eyes twinkling with recognition.

Jake’s head snaps to you, surprise clear as day. He stares, a laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “Since when did you start memorizing my favorites?”

You had heard about his fav things to eat from your brother in law, Jay. But Jake never said it to you himself so the boy was pretty much stunned when you literally memorised them, as if you were waiting to flex this whole time.

You offer a small, knowing smile. “I have my ways.”

The waiter arrives promptly with your orders, and the rich aroma fills the space between you and Jake. He takes a bite, but pauses, eyes drifting to you with a soft, contemplative expression. “We’ve never done this before…” he murmurs, his tone a mix of realization and gentle amusement.

You tilt your head, savoring a piece of shrimp. “You mean this date?” you ask, half-smiling.

“Yeah. I guess that’s what I mean,” he replies, taking a moment before continuing, as if gathering the courage. “I like it. I like how we are now.” He takes a sip of water, and the way he watches you is tender, raw. His hand slides across the table to rest over yours, fingers warm against your skin.

“I don’t know what changed, but I…” He hesitates, eyes locking with yours, a profound intensity that silences you. “I like how we’re not avoiding each other anymore, how we talk instead of fighting over every little thing.”

The sincerity in his words pierces through you, tugging at memories of a future where his absence left a hollow ache in your chest. The pain you’d carried, the distance, the loss—all of it feels heavy in this moment, but now, something else unfurls within you. An unexpected warmth that swells as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

He draws in a shaky breath. “I know I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes, maybe too many, and that’s why we kept drifting apart in those four years we were married. But I want us to stay like this. Is that too much to ask for?” His voice cracks, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The depth of emotion he shows takes your breath away, and your vision blurs as your own tears spill over. The raw honesty in his confession reaches a part of you that had long been buried under grief and guilt. But this isn’t grief—it’s something different, a warmth that wraps around you and fills the spaces that loss once consumed.

“Jake…” you whisper, voice trembling. He blinks rapidly, tears tracing paths down his cheeks as he tries to manage a laugh, a hand lifting to wipe at his face. “Did I go too overboard?” he chuckles, awkwardly, brushing his fingers over yours, an attempt to ease the intensity.

But you can’t answer with words, your heart too full. Instead, you wipe your own tears away, watching him as he takes a deep breath and resumes eating, eyes still red-rimmed, his emotions raw and vivid between you. The silence that follows is... a little satisfying this time around. Your chest tightens, and you realize this feeling—this unexpected, overwhelming tenderness—is the spark you hadn’t felt in what feels like forever.

The confession... It did something to you. It made you feel things or you believed so.

You reach for his hand, this time without hesitation, and hold on as if anchoring both of you to this moment. A shared glance tells him everything you can’t yet put into words: you’re here, with him, and for now, that’s enough.

AS THE DAYS PASSED FOLLOWING THAT UNEXPECTED DINNER, a subtle shift had occurred between you and Jake. It had been a month since then, and despite your hectic lives—you, a dedicated nurse, and him, an ambitious lawyer—something had changed. You continued to sleep separately, a necessity due to your conflicting schedules. Late nights saw you returning home to find Jake already asleep, and early mornings had him leaving before you awoke. This unspoken arrangement was born out of mutual respect for each other’s rest.

However, the reminder of the future haunted you. The date on your wrist, November 4th, hadn’t faded or smudged. It remained stark and vivid, a grim reminder of the fate you knew awaited Jake, filling you with silent dread.

Despite your busy lives, the dinner at that small restaurant had stirred something unspoken between you. A shared tenderness had taken root, and in the brief pauses between work, you found yourself drawn to those moments that whispered of possibilities—moments that spoke of a bond that hadn’t existed before.

The room feels charged with an unspoken tension as you stand there, watching Jake. The question slips from your lips, “Are we sleeping separately again?” masking the tremble in your voice with an attempt at confidence. Jake’s eyes meet yours, an amused smile playing on his lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want to sleep with me?” he asks, casual yet knowing.

You stammer, trying to find an answer that won’t reveal how vulnerable you feel. “No—yes—but—” The uncertainty in your voice makes him chuckle softly, the sound sending warmth through your chest. The realization of your feelings for him washes over you again, clear and inescapable.

“It’s normal to want to sleep with your husband. Don’t worry,” he says reassuringly. His tone is light, yet there’s an edge of tenderness as he turns and walks to the bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, looking back with an expectant eyebrow raise, and you follow.

Inside, the dim light casts soft shadows. The atmosphere feels different tonight, heightened by the realization that, while you’ve shared this space before, this moment feels profoundly intimate. He hesitates for a moment, the usual playful confidence in his manner replaced by a quiet consideration.

Should he lie down first?

Wait for you?

Or speak?

“You don’t need to worry. I won’t touch you unless you want me to. We could even put a pillow between us if you prefer,” he says in a rush, trying to ease the tension. But his words leave you both flushed. You respond, flustered yet honest, “No—you can touch me—I mean...”

Jake’s eyes widen, and a surprised silence falls over you both, broken only by your slightly quickened breaths.

Finally, you break it, murmuring, “So... do we sleep?” You wish the dim light hides your expression, but Jake’s shifting on the bed signals that he’s as unsettled as you are. He lies down first, and you follow, settling into the bed with a space that feels simultaneously too close and too distant.

Minutes pass as the darkness deepens around you. You’re aware of every sound, every breath he takes, and the slight rustle of sheets as you both try to find comfort. The knowledge that he’s staying dressed out of respect doesn’t escape you, and neither does the chill that seeps through the room, despite the blanket. It’s enough to make sleep elusive, even as your heart drums with quiet, unspoken hope.

The air feels thick with tension as neither of you can fall asleep, despite the dim light and the shared silence. Jake gently sits up, his voice breaking the stillness. “I’ll get changed into my night clothes—this is uncomfortable. You should get changed too,” he suggests. His words are practical, but they stir a shyness inside you. The thought of wearing shorts around him makes you feel self-conscious, though the blanket and darkness give you some comfort.

With a deep breath, you agree. You grab your oversized top and shorts, retreating to the bathroom to change. When you return, Jake is already asleep, dressed in a soft T-shirt and shorts. His peaceful expression makes a pang of guilt settle in your chest. You feel both relief and unease at the same time, knowing he’s so close yet so far away.

You lie there, tense in the stillness of the night. Jake’s hand lands instinctively on your stomach, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through you. You hold your breath, carefully shifting his hand away. Just when you think you're safe, his leg shifts under the blanket, pressing gently between your legs. A rush of heat floods your chest as you gently push his leg away, silently exhaling in relief.

In the quiet, you watch him sleep. His messy hair, a small trail of drool escaping his lips—something inside you stirs. Without thinking, you bring your thumb to wipe away the drool, brushing it lightly against your shirt. You stare at him for a moment, your heart racing in ways you can’t fully understand.

For Jake though,

He wakes to find you so close, your noses nearly touching. A small breath escapes him as he pulls back, but then he notices your body, curled into him—one of your legs and arms wrapped around him, as if clinging to his warmth to escape the cold. You’re nestled so comfortably against his chest, and though a small part of him wants to get up, he finds himself content in the moment.

He stares at you, watching as he slips his fingers through your hair, the quiet intimacy settling around him like a comforting blanket. When you stir, half-awake, he expects you to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you bury yourself further into his chest, and he smiles, a little amused by your unconscious need for closeness.

“Morning... Baby,” he says softly, though he’s hoping you’ll move just enough for him to slip out of bed.

“Morningg,” you murmur, nuzzling his chest. He notices how you don’t seem to mind the nickname, a small sign that you’re still in that dreamy, sleepy state. He wants to pull away, but he doesn't want to disturb you, so he asks, “Can you move a bit, baby?”

You barely stir, your arms and legs still tangled with his. “Too cold,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“I know, baby. I’ll turn the heater on for you, is that good?” he whispers, his voice tender. He’s careful not to wake you fully, knowing you won’t even remember this when you wake up.

An hour later, you wake up alone in the bed, the soft comforter still wrapped around your legs. You stretch and yawn, rubbing your eyes, only to hear the door creak open. Jake stands there, a plate in hand—an omelette and a fruit salad. You blink, unsure if you’re still dreaming, and pinch your cheek, just to make sure this isn’t some figment of your imagination.

“What's that?” you ask, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Breakfast in bed,” Jake says with a playful grin, setting the plate down in front of you.

“For me?” you ask, surprised and touched.

“Who else?” he replies with a shrug, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“Why...?” You blink at him, unsure of why he's being so considerate, so affectionate.

“Why not?” he answers, teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes your heart flutter.

You stare at the food in front of you, but the nerves kick in. “Well, uhm... I haven’t brushed.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures, waving off your concerns.

“No, it’s not. It’s gross. I do care about germs,” you argue, a bit embarrassed. Before he can say anything else, you rush off to brush your teeth, feeling a little self-conscious. You quickly freshen up, brushing your teeth with the toothpaste, hoping that’ll help with the lingering awkwardness.

When you return, you take a bite, and the emotion hits you harder than you expect. You don’t quite know why, but the tenderness of his gesture fills you with gratitude, and a soft lump forms in your throat.

“Why?” you ask again, your voice shaky, as you sip some water. The question has been swirling in your mind ever since you saw him standing there, holding that plate.

“Hm?” he hums, genuinely confused, not fully understanding why you're so emotional.

“Why are you being so nice... and romantic?” You wince after speaking, regretting your words, but you can't take them back now.

Jake tilts his head, his smile fading slightly. “Like I said a month ago... I meant those words. I want us to stay like this... And not go back to how it was in those four years.. Are we really that immature to let it happen again? ” The vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard, and for a moment, you can see the hurt in his eyes.

It's raw, honest, and you feel a knot twist in your chest, not having a reply to his genuine question.

THE DAYS AND MONTHS THAT FOLLOW ARE UNEXPECTEDLY TENDER, filled with moments that remind you of what being husband and wife is meant to feel like. The shared smiles, lingering touches, and quiet mornings are sweeter than they have ever been, and for the first time in a long while, peace seems attainable. Yet, there is an undercurrent that stirs beneath it all—the date that looms, casting a shadow over your contentment.

November 4th.

With the month drawing nearer, your heart starts to tighten with an anxious grip. Paranoia seeps into the quiet moments, the fear of what November 4th could mean—what it has meant in the past—makes the days feel more fragile. Your mind races, replaying scenarios and doubts that you can’t shake off. Each sweet gesture, each kind word from him, is tinged with the knowledge that the date approaches, threatening to unravel everything you’ve rebuilt.

Jake’s expression is heavy with exhaustion, dark circles under his eyes hinting at the long day he’s had. You offer, “I’ll heat up the dinner,” and turn toward the kitchen, but he stops you with a gentle grasp around your wrist. Before you can react, he pulls you back, pressing you against the wall. The soft strains of a romantic song drift from the living room, creating an intimate, almost fragile atmosphere.

He’s close—closer than usual—and you feel the warmth radiating from his body as well as the subtle scent of his cologne. The proximity sends your pulse racing.

“Jake?” you say softly, confusion lacing your voice as you look up at him. His face is unreadable, the dim lighting casting a shadow over the tired lines of his features. His eyes meet yours, carrying an unspoken emotion.

“Mm?” he murmurs, his voice hushed, as if not to disturb the moment. His hands find their way around you, holding you securely against him, and he leans his chin on your head. The gesture feels protective, desperate even.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your words barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re seeking clarification or reassurance. His embrace tightens for a moment, and you feel his chest rise and fall against yours as he takes a deep breath.

“Can you stop calling me Jake?” he says quietly, the request landing softly, yet weighted.

Surprise flashes through you. “What do you want me to call you?” you ask, voice muffled against his shirt. The question feels vulnerable, as if shifting something fundamental between you both.

“I don’t know... something like... baby, darling, honey... or anything,” he admits, a subtle flush spreading across his cheeks despite the solemn tone. You catch the shy dip of his eyes, and a faint smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re being quite demanding,” you tease, looking up into his face. His lips part slightly as he considers your words.

“This isn’t being demanding,” he counters, pausing just long enough for the silence to underline his meaning. His eyes search yours, raw and full of an unnamed plea. “I just want to spend my last months with you, thinking we’re just... normal. Like any other couple.”

His words sink in, bringing with them an ache that spreads through your chest. The silence that follows is heavy, laced with all the things unsaid and the truth that’s pressing in on both of you. You lift a hand, letting your fingers brush the hair at the back of his neck. His eyes soften, dark lashes casting shadows against his skin as he watches you.

There’s something fragile in this moment, a bittersweet understanding passing between you that makes your throat tighten. The future looms, uncertain and unkind, but for now, you’re here, held close, suspended in the tender present.

Jake’s voice lowers, a tremor in its depths that betrays the weight of his words. “You might not believe me, but... I come from a reality where I’m dead. So, I hope we can at least be nice to each other in my last moments. Can you do that?”

A stunned silence follows, your breath catching in your throat as his confession hangs in the air. You believe him; how could you not when you come from the same reality? Eyes widening, you step back, raising your wrist to show the dark, unerasable mark: November 4th. The ink-like number seems to pulse, a constant reminder of a fate that binds you both.

Jake’s eyes mirror your shock. He releases you, just enough to reveal his own wrist. There it is, the same haunting date. The mark seems alive, almost mocking, as if counting down with every heartbeat.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, the silence heavy with shared grief and realization. The next second, you’re in his arms again, your face buried in his chest as he pulls you close, his own face pressed into your hair. The world around you blurs, reduced to the rapid thumping of your heart and the warmth of his embrace.

“I... please don’t... leave me this time,” you plead, your voice breaking under the weight of your fear. The memory of finding him lifeless in the world you came from, the coldness of that reality, rushes back with a cruel force.

“I will try,” he whispers, his voice barely steady as he runs a hand down your back in a soothing gesture. “We changed the relationship, right? So maybe... just maybe, we can avoid death too.”

You both stand there, unmoving as the moment stretches out. It feels absurd, two souls transported from a fractured future, now clinging to each other in the present in a fragile hope. Yet the thought of letting go is unbearable, so you don’t. For now, the reality of the present is enough.

JAKE’S FINGERS TREMBLE SLIGHTLY AS HE HOLDS OUT THE SMALL BOX, A HINT OF NERVOUSNESS CREASING HIS BROW. “This is for you.” His voice is softer than usual, his eyes searching yours for a response. The box is familiar, a relic from the present you left behind, steeped in memories. Inside is the ancestral ring, one that Jake’s mother entrusted to you after his death—a token that held more value than any wedding ring could.

“I wasn’t... couldn’t give it to you before, but now... I’d like you to have it.” His voice is almost a whisper as he takes your hand, slipping the cool metal onto your finger. His touch lingers, warm and careful, as if anchoring the moment between you.

You look down at the ring, its delicate design catching the dim light and glistening softly. The weight of it brings back a rush of memories that mix grief with an unexpected warmth. Meeting his gaze, you let a small, genuine smile curve your lips. “Thank you. After you… I mean, after your death, your mother gave it to me,” you say, voice thick with the past, “but I’m glad it’s you giving it to me now.”

The way his eyes widen before softening speaks volumes—acceptance, regret, and hope, all blending seamlessly as he draws you closer.

Jake’s expression shifts, a soft smile forming as he leans in, his body pressing yours gently against the bedroom wall. His breath mingles with yours, warm and scented faintly with his cologne. His eyes trace your features, holding a glimmer of something tender and fragile. You raise a brow in playful defiance, a silent challenge, and a sheepish smile tugs at his lips. Without another word, he cups your face, his thumb grazing your cheek, and leans in until the space between you disappears.

The first touch of his lips is tentative, testing. A shiver races down your spine as his mouth moves with a gentleness that makes your heart stutter. Your eyes flutter open for a second, catching the serene expression on his face before closing again as you respond, deepening the kiss. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to reality.

When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing in short, uneven gasps. The room is silent except for the soft crackle of a song playing somewhere in the background. Jake’s eyes open, and in them, you see a question—a hesitation laced with anticipation. “Do you want to go further?” His voice, barely above a whisper, holds a vulnerability that makes your pulse quicken.

You exhale softly, a hint of a smile teasing your lips as you match his boldness. “How far can you go?” The playful edge in your voice makes him chuckle, low and breathy.

“As far as you want to go.” The words are a promise, and before you can respond, his lips capture yours again, more confident this time, as his hand moves to the strap of your dress, gently sliding it off of your shoulders.

THE NEXT FEW WEEKS PASS IN A COMFORTING CALM, the bond between you and Jake strengthening with each passing day. You're no longer weighed down by the regret of the past, but instead, you focus on cherishing the present. Yet, there's still a lingering unease.

Jake driving the car is something that continues to gnaw at you. It's not just a simple fear; it's the haunting memory of the future you came from, where that very action led to his tragic end. As November nears, the pressure builds. You look at the date on your wrist—November 4th—and the thought of losing him again, of it becoming reality, is too much to bear. Your chest tightens, and you feel a mix of helplessness and dread, hoping with every fiber of your being that this time, things will be different.

Jake offers a reassuring smile, the kind that tries to mask his own unease as he softly says, “Chill, I’ll be back in an hour, alright?” His hand moves up to gently smooth your hair, eyes soft with understanding as he takes in the worry etched across your face. You cling tighter to his arm, voice trembling as you ask, “Is it important?”

He nods, and the hopeful part of you crumbles. The instinct to keep him close, to refuse, is almost overwhelming. But before you can protest, he leans forward, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. His hands slip down to rest on your shoulders as he looks at you earnestly.

“I promise I’ll be back. Now, will my pretty wife give me a smile so I can come back even sooner?” The playful plea tugs at your lips, and despite the fear swirling inside, you manage a small, forced smile. He chuckles softly, ruffling your hair before turning to leave.

You trail behind him to the door, eyes glued to the taillights of his car as they fade down the street. The ache in your chest sharpens, and you glance down at the ancestral ring on your finger, tracing its smooth surface as if the touch alone could make your wish come true: Please, come back safely.

The minutes stretch painfully long, and every ten minutes, you can’t resist sending a text, the same anxious message: “If you’re okay, just send a heart emoji.” True to his word, Jake replies with a heart every time—until the fifty-minute mark.

The silence is deafening. Your heart thunders as you stare at your phone, willing the screen to light up. Nothing. The dread coils tighter, stealing the air from your lungs. You take a shaky breath, but it barely settles you. Panic sets in, and you hit the call button. The phone doesn’t connect; the ring tone never plays. Your chest tightens.

In desperation, you call Jay, your brother-in-law. His voice is laced with confusion as he picks up. “Jay, is Jake with you?” The silence that follows your frantic question only amplifies your fear. “No, why? What’s going on?” he asks, suddenly serious. Before you can answer, he cuts the call, sensing the urgency and attempting to help in any way he can.

The next hour drags like an eternity, your anxiety swallowing every rational thought. You pace the room, eyes darting to the clock, phone clenched in your shaking hand. Then, after what feels like a lifetime, you hear the distant purr of an engine. Your pulse stutters as Jake’s car comes into view, whole and unharmed.

But you don’t relax. Not until you see him. The door swings open, and there he is, frustration etched into his features as he steps inside. Your breath catches, relief and anger colliding within you.

Jake's expression softens as he speaks, keeping his voice low despite the frustration. “Why’d you call Jay over something like this? My phone died while I was working. I charged it and got caught up in the case. It’s embarrassing.”

Your eyes well up, the weight of worry turning to a sting of hurt. “So? It’s not important?” Your voice wavers, raw with emotion. “I was terrified, Jake! I didn’t want to lose you again. Sorry for being the clingy wife you’re ashamed of.”

Turning to leave, you barely make a step before he’s there, blocking your path. His eyes search yours, but instead of a defensive remark, he pulls you close, enveloping you in an embrace that tells you more than words could. His arms tighten, anchoring you to him as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s strange, but I promise I won’t say that again, okay?”

His breath is warm against your hair as he leans his cheek on your head, his heartbeat steady against your own erratic one. Despite the tension, you sense his understanding, a silent acknowledgment of your fear. He’s learning to hold your worry without judgment.

“I was so scared, Jake. I thought I’d lose you all over again.” Your voice cracks, and he feels the tremor in your body. He wants to say the right thing, anything to soothe the tremble in your words, but all he can do is hold you tighter.

Both of you are haunted by that date imprinted on your wrists, “November 4th.” A reminder that looms like an uninvited shadow, a constant whisper of what could happen.

THE DAY ARRIVES, a heavy silence filling the air between you and Jake. His promise lingers like a protective shield around you both: he won’t drive, he won’t leave. His presence is a balm for the fear that pulses in your chest. As the two of you snuggle on the couch, the soft glow of the TV playing a rom-com, you turn to him with a worried look, your voice low and unsure.

“What if something bad happens while we’re in the house?” you whisper, nuzzling into his warmth. The thought of losing him, of the world continuing without him, feels unbearable.

Jake shifts, his arm wrapping tighter around you as he looks down at you, his breath warm against your neck. “Nothing will happen. And if it does, I’ll protect you,” he assures, his tone strong and sure, though his own heart is heavy. He knows how much your fear weighs on you, and he wants to shoulder it for you.

But the thought of you living without him—he can’t imagine it. He brushes your hair from your face gently, his voice a soft promise. “I love you too much for that.” His words come out naturally, like it’s something he’s been holding back but feels right now to say. It’s the first time you hear him say it, and the weight of those words floods your heart with warmth, knowing this is real.

“I get it. I won’t put my life at risk,” he murmurs, though there’s a quiet uncertainty in his words, an unspoken truth that he would never let anything harm you—even at the cost of his own safety.

You glance up at him, your lips pressing together in a worried frown. “You better not,” you mumble, not able to let go of the fear completely. You’ve spent the whole day together, in the safety of your home, trying to ignore the impending dread that the date will pass and nothing will change. Watching TV, cooking together, each small moment a reminder of how much he means to you—and how fragile life can be.

You curl up closer to him, as if physically wrapping yourself around him can keep him safe. Your eyes glance at the clock, the seconds ticking by too slowly. Every moment spent together now feels like a treasure, and you want to hold on to it forever.

The two of you lie in bed, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a gentle warmth over your forms. His hand rests tenderly over yours, fingers interlocking. He watches you as you sleep, your face relaxed, peaceful. A quiet whisper escapes his lips: “I love you.” His eyes linger on your peaceful expression, your other arm still clinging to him as if you’re unwilling to let go even in sleep.

He leans over to turn off the lamp, and then his gaze falls to his wrist—where the date once was. It’s gone. A wave of disbelief washes over him. The tension that has gripped him for so long begins to melt away. Perhaps it wasn’t an omen after all, but a reminder that after November 4th, a new chapter awaited them both.

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your wrist to find the same thing: no date. Relief floods him, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling you even closer into his arms, savoring the moment.

But he knows, as much as this moment feels like a new beginning, there will still be challenges ahead. The fear you carry about him driving is not something that will fade overnight. Your worry, rooted in a past he knows you can’t shake, will take time to heal. But for now, he holds you close, understanding, and promises silently that he’ll be patient, allowing you to find peace in your own time.

TWO MONTHS HAVE PASSED SINCE THE FATEFUL DATE, and though life has taken you and Jake through different stages, there’s an undeniable warmth between the two of you. Sitting at the family dinner table, surrounded by loved ones, the air is filled with laughter, conversation, and the quiet hum of joy.

Semi, now a cheerful five-year-old, eats her meal quietly, occasionally looking up with shy glances.

You glance over at Jake, noticing him take a deep breath as he prepares to speak, his hand resting on the table near yours. It’s clear he’s nervous, even though it’s just family. He clears his throat, the words finally tumbling out: “So… We’re having a baby.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Jake’s father scoffs, not giving him an ounce of reaction, while his mother rolls her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, you can fool us one time, not twice,” she says, clearly referencing the last family dinner, where you had tried to casually mention trying for a baby, only for him to play along. He felt the blame was entirely on him, but you knew the truth—it was a team effort.

You chuckle softly to yourself, leaning into Jake’s side, your heart fluttering at the thought of a new life, a new chapter. He meets your gaze, his lips curving into a small smile, even amidst the teasing.

This moment, while filled with playful mockery, marks something deeper. You’re finally here together, stronger and more united than ever before. And this new adventure? It’s the start of a new journey that no one can take from you.

"Really, Y/n’s pregnant. We're having a baby," Jake says, his voice laced with excitement. His mother, skeptical, eyes you closely. "Is that true?"

Without waiting for Jake’s confirmation, you nod, feeling his fingers intertwine with yours beneath the table, his touch calming your nerves.

"I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if this is fake," his dad grumbles, irritation mixing with a hint of hope.

Jay, barely containing his amusement at the scene, watches the family react, while Jake proudly pulls out the ultrasound pictures, revealing the truth. His parents take turns looking at the images, jaws dropping in surprise. Jay, knowing already, can’t help but chuckle.

"Father was starting to question your masculinity. Glad you proved him wrong," Jay teases, earning a gentle nudge from Jieun, urging him to keep it light.

"Wait... So there’s a grandkid on the way?" Jake’s mother recovers first, grinning with hopeful excitement. Jake nods, and your heart swells at the thought of everything that's to come. This moment, this family, it feels like the beginning of something truly special.

Jake’s mother leans forward, still processing, but the excitement is slowly bubbling up. “A grandchild? Really? My little boy having a little one? I’m going to spoil that baby so much.”

Jake chuckles, glancing at you. “Well, you already spoil Semi enough, so I guess it’s fair.”

“Hey, I’m a great grandma-in-training,” she quips, giving Semi an affectionate pat. “But if you two need any advice, I’m here.”

Your heart swells seeing the warmth in her eyes. But then, Jake’s dad, clearly trying to keep his cool, mutters, “I’ll believe it when I see a baby in my arms.”

“You’ll see him,” Jake says, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Or her, right, Y/n?”

You smile, feeling the weight of the moment. “Definitely,” you whisper, feeling a rush of emotion.

Jay, still grinning, can’t help but poke at his younger brother. “So, what’s the plan, huh? You two gonna have one of those perfect Pinterest-worthy baby showers or just skip the whole thing?”

Jieun smacks his arm lightly. “Don’t make them nervous, Jay. Let them enjoy the moment.”

Jake laughs, looking over at you with that same loving gaze. “Honestly, I think we just need to take it one step at a time. But yeah, we’ll get there.”

“You know, when you have a baby, you’ll see just how much you need each other,” his dad says more seriously now, a rare moment of wisdom breaking through his tough exterior. “It’s not just about being a parent, it’s about being there for each other even more.”

Jake nods, his hand tightening around yours as if to say, “I’ve got you, always.”

The whole family seems to settle into a comfortable silence after that, everyone soaking in the news in their own way, but all of them sharing the same unspoken bond.

“Guess we’ll need one more chair for next time,” Jay jokes, breaking the silence, and everyone bursts out laughing.

You glance at Jake, his eyes full of joy, and your heart feels fuller than it ever has. There’s something about being surrounded by family—being with him—that feels right. “Yeah, we’ll need one more chair,” Jake agrees softly, his gaze drifting to the future, to the family that’s just beginning.

In the end, you and Jake had proven the vows true—til death do us part. Through all the challenges, fears, and moments of doubt, you had always found your way back to each other. The promises made, the trust built, and the love that had endured everything now stood as a testament to what you had together. With every touch, every shared laugh, and every quiet moment, you knew that no matter what, your hearts were bound—for life—and beyond.

© senascoop | tumblr

[wheeboo]

one day at a time | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which after tip-toeing beyond the line of friends to lovers, you're suddenly scared to be vulnerable, but your boyfriend is there beside you with every step of the way. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader (ft. a mention of jihoon) GENRE. fluff, comfort, established relationship WARNINGS. reader has a very prominent fear of being vulnerable, mild cursing, one brief kiss, reader is supposedly good at math, wonu being a tease n being just a sweetheart :((, self-indulgent as always oops WORD COUNT. 2.2k

notes: a bday fic w our fav comfort person because the world needs some healing. enjoy <3 there seems to be a recurring theme with all my wonu fics abt... shit like this HAHAH. sorry if it seems repetitive every time lmao

Is it normal to be... scared in a relationship?

Well, according to Google and your endless search history on Quora and Reddit, it is. And while that does sort of help those thoughts in a way, it doesn't thaw the way you're practically tense on top of the couch right now𑁋Wonwoo's couch, specifically.

Your apartment had caught a leak and Wonwoo had offered to be your first line of support, asking you to stay over at his place for the time being. Jihoon, a friend you made in the same apartment as yours and who somehow was not affected by the leak at all, called you out on your antics for asking to stay at his place while you had a whole ass boyfriend to go to instead.

And admittedly, it does seem a bit stupid to not go to Wonwoo at first, even if he did live a good twenty minutes away from you. He still made the drive and now here you are𑁋sitting on his couch, frozen as a rock, because you realise you haven't stayed the night at his place yet ever since you both started dating, and the thought has been scaring you shitless.

You don't expect for anything to happen when you're here; you're just here to stay the night and that's all, right?

"I'm sorry, I should've prepared more if I knew you were coming," Wonwoo says while coming up to you with a glass of water in his hand, offering it to you.

You take it from him gratefully. "It's okay, you didn't know." Then you lower your gaze to the floor, adding on a quiet, "Thank you though."

A small smile crosses over Wonwoo's face as he takes a seat right next to you with a glass of water of his own, the couch dipping slightly from his weight. Nothing but a steady silence engulfs the two of you, except for the hums of the air conditioner that were sending the smallest bits of goosebumps travelling down your skin.

You and Wonwoo have only been dating for a few short months, but have known each other since your high school days. He probably knows you like the lines on the palm of his hand. The familiarity should have made this easier, right?

And yet, sitting here on his couch, you feel like a stranger. It's not that you're uncomfortable with Wonwoo himself. In fact, quite the opposite. You can talk to him for hours, laugh with him easily, but there's a certain intimacy you haven't crossed yet, and the thought of it sends a jolt through you. You've had sleepovers many times when you were friends, but now... this is different.

"You're tense."

You nearly lose your grip on your glass of water at that. "Am I?"

Wonwoo just chuckles faintly, placing his glass on the coffee table.

"Just a little," he says gently, not wanting to make you feel more self-conscious than you already do. "Am I making you nervous?"

There's a pinch of tease behind his words, yet there's also a hint of concern. You steal a glance at him, his eyes a soft, a warm brown that usually makes you feel safe and understood, and a soft smile playing on his lips. But right now, his gaze seems to see right through you, picking you apart piece-by-piece, and it makes a blush creep up your face.

"Just a little," You respond, shy at the way you attempted to mimic his tone. "I'm sorry, I-I know it's stupid. We've had sleepovers before but now it's𑁋"

"Different?"

"Yeah," You finish simply. "Different."

"It doesn't have to be that different if you don't want it to be," Wonwoo reassures you, leaning just a tad bit closer to you but not to the point that your limbs are touching. There's a tiny bit of space between the tips of your knees, but it's still close enough to send flutters to the pit of your stomach. "We're still us."

Wonwoo catches a glance at the way you're fiddling with your hands in front of you, a nervous habit you haven't entirely tackled quite just yet. He has the urge to reach over and bring your hand into his, but he doesn't𑁋not right now, at least.

"I just... I used to be so talkative with you when we weren't dating," You admit tentatively. "and now, if I say something you'll... I feel like you'll see me differently. I'm just..."

You gaze down at your hands like they held the answer, dry palms pressed together tightly.

"...I'm worried about how vulnerability could… affect us now, you know?"

You've been vulnerable with Wonwoo before as friends, like your conversations late at night on a FaceTime call when you confided in each other about your dreams, fears, and bucket list goals. Yet, now that your relationship has shifted, your heart feels more exposed, more prone to being hurt.

The thought of someone holding your heart in their hands feels like leaving it wide open for them to crush.

Wonwoo doesn't respond immediately, instead opting to study you. You feel the way his gaze sweeps over your face, taking in the way your brows furrow and the way your lips are pressed together in a thin line. Then, a slow smile spreads across his lips, one that reaches his eyes and crinkles the corners slightly.

"Then let's start off small." He adjusts himself on the couch, criss-crossing his legs together and scooting just a bit more towards you. The way he fixes his glasses too makes your mind hazy. "Tell me about your day today."

You lift a brow at that. "My day?" Then a frown forms at your mouth. "Don't you already know how my day went?"

Wonwoo hums dreamily, adjusting himself so that he's facing you more directly. 

"It’s different when you tell me," he says amusedly. "I like listening to you."

A small, nervous laugh leaves you, feeling the tension in your shoulders dissipating away slightly. 

"Well, I woke up to that leak," You start, rolling your eyes playfully. "And the whole morning was spent trying to get the landlord. When he finally sent someone over, I was told I shouldn’t sleep in the apartment for a few days while they fixed it. So, I panicked a bit, and that's when I, uh, called you, which made me feel… a lot better."

Wonwoo’s lips curl up at that. 

"See," he says softly. "You're already doing it. Sharing with me. And I appreciate it. Really."

There’s a wave of relief that washes over you, taking away some of the nervous jitters that had settled within you. Taking another sip of water, you place the glass right next to Wonwoo’s on the table, before mirroring his position on the couch, the space between the two of you shrinking a little more. The soft glow of the lamp behind him casts a dim glow throughout the room, and the hum of the air conditioner lulls you into a sense of calm. 

"Now…" Wonwoo pauses for a few seconds to think, and the way his brows furrowed together in concentration makes your heart skip a beat. "Tell me a little fun fact about you."

"A fun fact?" You repeat, a bit taken aback, before crossing your arms together. "You already know pretty much everything about me though."

"Trust me, I don’t," Wonwoo claims, the tips of his fingers momentarily brushing against yours that were resting on the cushion of the couch. "And even if I did, I wouldn’t get tired of relearning you."

Oh, perhaps you melt a little inside at his words; there’s a small, inconspicuous nudge to the edges of your heart. It wasn’t begging to be let in, but it was gently knocking, as if asking for permission. 

"Okay," You start. "I can recite the first fifteen numbers of Pi."

Wonwoo snorts at that. "You can?"

"I can! See: Three, point, one, four, one, five, nine, two, six, five, three, five, eight, nine𑁋"

"Was that why you were so good at algebra back then?"

"I was not good; I was decent."

"Same thing, really."

You scoff playfully, hoping that it would hide how much this praise is getting to you and making your heart stutter even more. You were quite literally ordinary throughout high school, and the same thing could probably be said about Wonwoo. The two of you were simply ordinary, and yet here you are today, sitting together on his couch, sharing a moment that feels nothing short of extraordinary. 

Wonwoo shifts his position so that his legs are crossed together on the couch and he leans a little closer, the gap between you narrowing further. His fingers brush lightly against yours again, a subtle touch that sends some goosebumps running down your body. 

"Can I hold your hand?"

The question is straightforward, simple even. Yet the simplicity of it makes your breath hitch in your throat. You meet Wonwoo's warm gaze, noticing the slight anticipation in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat.

So, you simply hold your hand out to him, and he takes it in his own, grip tender yet firm. And then he chuckles. 

For a moment, you want to take your hand away, but the way he’s holding it𑁋all gently and preciously, eyes examining over it like it’s some delicate treasure𑁋well, you’d feel like a fool if you did that. His chuckle is soft, almost a whisper, and it feels like it’s wrapping around you like a hug.

"What’s so funny?" You ask him.

Wonwoo tilts his head thoughtfully. "I’ve dreamed of this, you know. Holding your hand."

"You… you have?"

"It’s cheesy, isn’t it?" Wonwoo clicks his tongue, letting his thumb slowly run over your knuckles. "I’d see you shivering during winter and my first thought would be to hold your hand. Or whenever we sat next to each other in class, I’d look at you and think, 'I wonder what their hands feel like'. At first, I believed I thought this way because I was young and curious, but now, I think it's because I've always wanted to be close to you in this way."

Then he cradles your hand with both of his, the warmth of his palms seeping through the crevices of your heart, your entire being. 

"I like being vulnerable with you," Wonwoo admits bashfully, mindlessly playing with your fingers. If he could hold it forever, he would. "even if you’re scared of it. I like letting you into my life. I like knowing that you know me. I like you. And if you’re scared right now, that’s okay. You’re letting me hold your hand right now𑁋that’s a big step. One day at a time, right?" 

It suddenly becomes quiet enough for you to hear your own heart right now. Wonwoo seems closer to you than ever before, close enough you don’t know where to look. Your eyes flicker from his eyes, to his ears, down to the way your hands still haven’t let each other go yet, and finally, halting at the curve of his lips. 

Then a sudden impulse hits you. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips against his, a quick, chaste kiss, before pulling away instantly and sliding your hand out of his, feeling your face immediately flush out of embarrassment. 

"Sorry, that was, uh…" You pause, reaching out for your near-empty glass of water on the table and downing the rest like a shot of liquor. Gosh, the room feels so hot right now. 

Even Wonwoo finds himself tugging at the collar of his shirt awkwardly, a light blush tinting his cheeks. He clears his throat, readjusts his glasses on his nose, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Why are you saying sorry?"

"For… for kissing you! And It was a bad kiss too…"

"There’ll be better kisses later on."

You could probably drink an entire pitcher of water right after that. Your mouth parts open as you stare at him for a minute, taken aback by his nonchalant response. He seems unfazed, almost amused by your embarrassment. 

The way you look so shocked and flustered and cute right now has a low laugh escaping from Wonwoo’s lips, and it’s infectious enough to send you into an embarrassed, somewhat awkward fit of giggles as well. 

The two of you are sitting side-by-side just like the first minute you sat on his couch, some space between but closer than it was before. The tension has definitely dissipated and a new comfort has taken its place. A comfortable silence. A simple moment between two people, and two hearts that are beating as one. 

A small tap at your hand makes you look back up, and you see Wonwoo holding his hand out toward you with his pinky finger extended.

"One day at a time?" he asks. 

All you do is smile softly, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders as you intertwine your pinky finger with his with hardly any hesitation.

"One day at a time." 

One day at a time, You repeat to yourself in your head. For good measure.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu

@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1

@mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23

@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit

@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas

@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @maesvtr0

[or0ch1maru]

hi hi CJ! How have you been these days? Hope you've been doing well! What are some of your aftercare headcanons of our favorite vampiric-coded man, Mihawk? Or any headcanons really cuz my man's got a castle and the possibilties are endless🫡Please and thank you!

Lorddddddd, I’ve got a few of these ^.^ sorry for my absence, I’ve been pretty busy over the past week but I promise I’ll be more active <3 these are all over the place lol. A thought will pop into my head and if I don’t get it down fast enough, I’ll lose it lol.

I’ve been good bby, working, celebrating my bday early, doing stuff for my small business. Nothing too crazy lol

•

-I believe he is a god at aftercare. When you two first got together, he had a deep talk with you about likes & dislikes, and what your ideal aftercare would consist of

-if he has something new he would want to try with you(bubble bath, etc) he’d ask you first, he wants you as comfortable as possible

-he’s filthy in bed, has probably experimented a lot through his life and will try something at least once. Has no shame in bringing things up he wants to try with you. Don’t be embarrassed to bring up any kinks, he’s more than happy to indulge

-talks dirty. His words are as filthy as the actions he does to you. Praises more than degrades you, but tosses in a “my girls such a pretty lil slut hm?” Time to time if he’s feeling a little more mean

-worships the hell out of you and your body. During sex and day to day. He always wants you to know how loved you are and how beautiful you are

-if you’re feeling insecure, if you’re up to it, he’d take you to bed and do the filthiest things to you to show you why there’s no need to shame your body

-if you’re having a tough time wanting to be intimate when you’re feeling insecure, that’s okay. He’ll get down on his knees(he only kneels for his woman and his woman only) and tells you everything he adores about you(which is literally everything. From your feet to the hair on your head)

-he doesn’t care what you do, where you go, or who you hang out with. Is the type to say “wear what you want, I know how to fight.” Trusts you wholeheartedly

-the only thing he’d ask of you, do not touch yoru. Would hate for you to get hurt. He makes sure to keep yoru in a spot where it won’t fall over or be in the way to prevent you from having to move or shift it

-I also believe he doesn’t have a ‘type’. He likes who he likes and that’s the end of it.

-he will fuck you everywhere in his home. Every single room, balcony, and outside.

-loves having you sit in his lap. If he’s working in his office, you’ll sit pretty on his thighs while he works. His hand caressing your back of thighs. Planting gentle kisses to your jaw and neck time to time

-if he can’t get away from his work and you’re feeling needy, he’ll have you ride his thigh. Muttering sweet little phrases into your ear as he watches you fall apart

-if you two are out and about in town and you get cold, best believe he’ll take his coat off, keeping the vest for himself to be somewhat covered up as he drapes the jacket over you

-another thing that will bring a small smile to his face is finding you wearing his hat. Imagine? You’re goofing off and he walks into your shared bedroom to find you pushing his head back up on your head since it’s too big. Looking absolutely adorable

-loves skin to skin. Will join you in the bath just to have your skin touching his. Sometimes the two of you will play naked in bed. Cuddling and talking with each other

-loves listening to you talk. Even if you didn’t do much during your day, he will listen intently.

-despite him being stoic and quiet for the most part towards others, you get a different side of him. He’s much more talkative, he smiles around you, shares different facial expressions as well

-is the type to pay for absolutely everything. You want your nails done? Here’s my wallet. Hair? Waxing? New wardrobe because you’re bored of your old one? New hobby? Take my money

-Will eventually teach you how to use a sword to protect yourself. Shows you how to properly take care of your sword as well

-would kill for you. But he’d be silent about it. If someone threatened you or was gross or derogatory towards you, he’ll handle it personally

-you’re his safe space, his home. If he’s away on business, all he thinks about is you. Your touch, your voice, your smell, you’re on his mind 24/7 and has no shame in it

[stylespresleyhearted]

CCG - LUCI’S 3RD BIRTHDAY

In honor of the great @blainesebastian ‘s birthday here’s a little instagram compilation I’ve conjured up for our adored CCG nation <3 Austin, CCG, and Luci we miss and love ya’ll forever and Mccall you are a brilliant mind whom I will adore until the end of time! Have the bestest birthday ever, you deserve nothing less!

—————-

liked by coffee.girl, salmahayek, and 20,342 others

enews And the Best Dad Award goes to ….! In honor Austin Butler and Y/N’s little girl turning three today let’s take a look back at our favorite moments of Austin Butler being the best dad ❤️ link in bio for full video of second slide.

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austinfan18 video of luci running into austin’s arm after two weeks apart you will always be famous!

butlerishh him throwing her in the air LMAO LUCI WAS NOT HAVING FUN

ccgfan HA fr luci was looking at her mom to save her

iloveaustin Can we talk about how proud his mom would be about what a great parent he is?

sharonbleu Austin even has Salma Hayek up in the likes 😉

liked by austinbutler, priscillapresley, and 872, 196 others

coffee.girl Celebrating Luci day should be every day tbh. 🦖💕👁️🐠🪷🌸☃️🥞 @austinbutler and I can’t believe we created this wonderful being, she had to have come from a lab of perfection.

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ashleytisdale Luci told me she’s from Pluto and I believe her. It’s the only logical explanation.

austinbutler Nice use of all of Luci’s favorite emoji’s, she’s going to be so proud. ❤️

jillian.mua The best thing you and Austin ever did and will ever do is have sex three years ago to give the world the best human to walk the Earth

coffee.girl JILLIAN!

ashleybee I’m disgusted but I get what she means

austinbutler Babe close your comment section please

chrisevans Happy bday to the one who is gonna prove aliens exist!

liked by austinbutler, bazluhrmann, and 20,807 others

people Luci Butler turns three today so we must not forget to credit her mother (and best friend) in a world where it seems moms get no recognition for being superhuman.

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user12 imagine using a 3 year olds bday to make some political womens movement statement. mom’s get plenty of recognition.

butlerfamupdates I actually applaud People Magazine for this. All day magazine’s have posted Austin’s cutest moments with Luci and talked about what a wonderful Dad he is - which no one would ever doubt to think he is - but Luci’s mom is very much present as well and deserves love too. Luci loves both her parents. It’s normal for a kid to have favorites, it doesn’t make the other parent ‘bad.’

ccgfan Y/N and Luci sharing their love for open water together and creating sea shell necklaces i cry

ccgfan1 You just know she’s the most supportive and loving mother! Austin and Luci are so lucky to have her!

liked by coffee.girl, austinbutler, and 341, 289 others

ashleytisdale happy birthday to Jupiter’s bestest friend in the whole wide world! We are so lucky to have you in our life Luci ❤️🦖✨

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coffee.girl the cutest besties 👯 🤣

fan23 ashley and aus are bffs now their daughters are too 😭

austinluv STOP my heart can’t take it

liked by ashleybee, ccgfan, and 34, 567 others

butlerfamupdates a cute little insight into Luci’s “THREE-REX” bday party! Posts and reposts from @austinbutler and @coffee.girl IG stories

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sugartreats Thank you for choosing us for her cakes and treats! The sweetest, most beautiful family 🙌🏼 #happybirthdayluci

fan34 so luc is like obsessed w dinos huh 🤔

fan33 austin literally calls her lil dino

fan45 u just know it was luci’s idea to put a tutu on the scary t rex LMAO

sugarcakes Oh it was! Her parents brought her in and Miss Luci was very specific with what she wanted haha

liked by ashleytisdale, oliviadejonge, and others

jillian.mua Happy birthday cool girl 🥳 I love you

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austinbutler vibin’

ashleybee oh gosh i wanna kiss those cheeks

oliviadejonge i wanna be her when i grow up ✨🥳

coffee.girl @austinbutler trendsetter 😂❤️

liked by austin12 and others

austinbnews via Austin’s IG story for Luci’s birthday! Happy birthday sweet Luci 🎂 ♥️

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austinfan23 she’s taking after her parents with her love of books 🥹

ccgfan yes Y/N and Austin built Luci her personal little library 😭

butlerupdates Austin taking a picture of Luci taking a picture of Y/N — ICONIC

liked by ashleebee, coffee.girl, and 1,235,096 others

austinbutler happy birthday lil dino ♥️

view all comments

coffee.girl … and she’s out for the count

jillian.mua @coffee.girl she had a busy day bossing everyone around

ashleytisdale @austinbutler please tell me you at least wiped the cake frosting off her face

austinbutler @ashleytisdale I’m not dealing with that tantrum when she wakes up

coffee.girl @austinbutler neither am I smart move

ashleybee I LOVE HERRRR

LMAOOOO MCCALL WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I TOLD YOU I WAS ALREADY WORKING ON THIS BEFORE YOU TEXTED ME TODAY ASKING ABOUT LUCI ?!???? OUR BRAINSSS INTERCONNECTED 🙌🏼❤️❤️❤️❤️ happy birthday mccall love you and your little universe and luci and ccg so much you’re awesome

[buttercupblu]

Im new to your blog, but let me just say you’re now one of my favorite writers on this platform! And that’s not just me exaggerating! I’m in LOVE with Satoru’s psyche, it’s SOOOO damn good! I’m not sure if you have a schedule for when you post chapters or not. But, do you have an idea as to when part 3 will be posted? 🥹👉👈 I seriously check your blog everyday in case there’s a chance that you have part 3 up! I’m of course not trying to rush you, or come off as demanding by any means!! By all memes, free to ignore this! 😅 I’m simply just an excited reader that looks forward to the story! ❤️🫶

you have given me a reason to live another day - god bless 🥺

but trust and believe i feel your itchhhhh.

once my kinktober/halloween fic wraps, psycho gojo is all ours 😈 - thankfully, i already started on p3 mooonths ago, i just got completely overhauled w/ my bday fic softdom!suguru then had to immediately start on i wanna fucking tear you apart to meet my halloween deadline (ik i sound like a broken record, but these fics keep getting longer on accident and something needs to be done about it 🧍🏾‍♀️)

in the meantime, i hope you're enjoying the other fics while you wait but you can also find my chaotic upload schedule here :3

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I’m Bored & Conflicted

Dec 2022 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying the most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

My School President (Fri YT) 3 of 10 - Honestly Tinn acts and talks like the voice inside of Sarawat’s head (from 2gether), I’ve never seen a bigger simp. The private tutoring was a good idea (Tiew is another one up for best wingman of the year). The way Tinn keeps getting accidentally defeated in his attempts at flirting is fun, and I love how they keep teasing us with tropes and then flipping or subverting them. GMMTV is being clever with audience expectations around the history of Thai BL and I love that. Also finally Gun is starting to feel something back... we enter phase two of a HSBL - moot pining but they both idiots. YES! 

Never Let Me Go (Tues YT) 1 of 12 - GMMTV’s answer to KinnPorsche this is (mafia lite?) spoiled prince + attack dog (whipping boy + bodyguard) suspense BL that’s actually a lot more like Golden Blood. It’s a pleasure to see PondPhuwin in something that’s not FUTS. Jojo (3 Will Be Free) is directing and daddy got himself a bouncing baby drone! We got a very dramatic opening with Paa shot on 18th bday. Puwin’s English is v good. Who knew? And Pond is v good at portraying insta-crush on poor little rich boy and I am not mad about any of it. IT’S GREAT. 

Between Us (Sun iQIYI) 6 of 12 - I still like WinTeam but I’m beginning to get annoyed by how many couples there are (5!) and how many of them were (DeanPharm) or are (BeePrince) in an entirely different show tonally. I understand they needed to pad-out this story, but they shouldn’t have, they should have just given us a shorter show. WATCH ALONG HERE.

609 Bedtime Story (Fri WeTV) 4 of 11 - We are finally getting Dew’s side of the story! And… its kinda dull. 

Remember Me (Sun Gaga) 10 of 12 - So Name is talking now? And they put Ja in a wig too? Did UWMA teach us nothing? Now I’m just annoyed with this show. Some more marriage equality schilling, because Thai BL has an axe to grind these days. Good luck boys! 

I Will Knock You (Fri Gaga) 5 of 12 - Honestly, the costumes in this show are insane and I also kind of like them in an odd way. There’s a Grease thing going on, and thus I keep expecting them to break into song (and being grateful that they don’t). The wardrobe is like the plot and the acting: loud and obvious and not very good but weirdly entertaining. Do I like it? Not really. Am I still watching it? Apparently. 

Ai Long Nhai (Mon iQIYI) 12fin - Yes, Ai did use particles to claim Nhai again. Jealous boy. Honestly, this was kind of an epically boring final ep. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

My Tooth Your Love (Taiwan Fri Viki) 11 of 12 - They are so stinking cute together. They also now have all the matching jewelry (not taken by MarkKit). This was a quintessentially them episode 11 of doom, in that they were parted because of communication issues and a maturing relationship occupied by immature characters. Still the leads were apart for most of the episode and that made it a lot less interesting as an episode.

Oh! My Assistant (Korea Thurs Viki) 5-6 of 8 - Kisses and separation! As drama llama episodes go, the reasoning is typically flawed and manufactured, but after watching Why R U? anything goes in an ep 11 (or its equivalent). So I’m still enjoying this show a lot. I don’t need my panicking gay boys and confused bisexuals to behave logically, certainly not in a KBL.

Candy Color Paradox AKA Ameiro Paradox (Japan Fri Gaga) 1 of 8 - A stakeout throws reporter Onoe together with photographer Kaburagi. Kaburagi's haphazard work style and player personality go against Onoe’s ethics. Yet, in joint pursuit of a scandal, these opposites attract move from enemies to lovers. Adapted from manga Ameiro Paradox by Natsume Isaku. Oh no! Our reporter is an unbelievably adorable pouty baby. Also big-ish cast and high production values in a BL, even for Japan. Even though it’s only been a little while since the last JBL, it’s such a pleasure to have one on my watchlist again! And the love interest is a big time flirty player. Very cliché (I still hold that the actor playing him looks like First of JaFirst). This is a lot more serious and a lot less slapstick than I was expecting, and I’m enjoying it because of that. But because it is serious, and this is Japan, we now cannot expect it to end happily. If you or someone who can wait, or likes to binge, and is very invested in an HEA you might want to consider holding off on this one. 

The Director Who Buys Me Dinner (Korea Thurs iQIYI) 1-2 of 10 - A new employee whose director claims to have lived 300 years and insists that they have to date (eat, hug & kiss) if baby doesn't want to die. Office, fated mates, and that’s kinda my jam. I’m always annoyed when I really like a show that’s on iQIYI or WeTV. Sigh. But I really like this show, it has a lot of Japanese elements to it not the least of which is the office setting, but also the personality of the uke character. Hilarious to watch Korea deal with a plot that requires physical contact. It’s weird, but I like it, it’s also extremely short. Like shorter than most KBLs even. Each app is so padded there ultimately less than 10 minutes long (which is why is is 10 esp rather than the usually KBL 8, it’s gonna end up the same length in the end).

Choco Milk Shake (Korea Strongberry Tues YT) 11fin - airs Dec 20th

Happy Ending Romance (Korea Thurs Gaga & Viki) 7-8fin - I actually LOVED the ending, very hinting at poly, and mature. But this show ended up not really being a BL, no tropes and not really a romance either. 

It’s Airing But I’m Not Watching It

War of Y (Thai Gaga) 20 eps - it’s just all too much for me.

2 Moons 3 (Thai) 10 eps - Possibly a future binge watch. Rumor is it’s banal.

Love Bill  (Vietnam Sat YT) - Bah Vinh is back but I’m too distracted. Also there’s a lot of fund raising stuff going on. I’ll wait and binge.

The Star Always Follow You (Vietnam YT) - same Team RL peeps we have seen before (Sunshine, Stupid)

Till the World Ends (Thai YT) 10 eps - ?

Why You... Y Me? (Thai Weds YT) 10 eps - It's not primarily a BL, but another meta show about BL shipping, with side BLs. @heretherebedork is watching it, ask them about it.

Ended This Week

Happy Ending Romance 

In this series, all the gay boys romantically behave like lesbians and professionally like straight dudes. It’s... odd. As a BL it kinda isn’t (sorry to say), there’s no tropes dropped and no real romance beats. This is about ego and dishonesty and pride and there is an elegance to the plot. Which is essentially the idea that possession is not love, and therefore, both men who love the Writer have to prove their love by letting him go. Honestly, I’m not sure how to rate this show. This is a blog about BL and this wasn’t it. 8/10 RECOMMENDED (but not if BL is what you’re after). Full review.

Ai Long Nhai 

Look this show was just a typical Thai BL university pulp about a confident gay and a clueless manic pixie dream boy. It had potential, chemistry, and earnestness going for it, but no plot and not enough side dishes. In the end, it was boring and you know I always rate boring lower than hot messes (because at least the hot mess TRIED). Still, Ai Long Nhai is better than your average Thai BL pulp, nothing happens but at least the nothing mostly shirtless, the gay dads are the BEST, which is about all I can say for it. 6/10 WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED

In Case You Missed It

With the help of @isisanna-blog, here’s a cobbled together a Domundi line up (peeps behind Cutie Pie) for 2023 Thai BL. Lots of established pairs and it looks good if they can actually make them all, includes beautiful historicals, paranormal, other high concepts, and a royalty bodyguard romance (knight/prince) with ZeeNew! 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Still coming:

Dec 21 - The New Employee AKA The New Recruit AKA Shinib Sawo from Korea, (prob Gaga or Viki) - From WATCHA (Semantic Error) virginal Seung Hyun scores the office internship of his dreams but on his first day at work he gets into it with his cool reserved boss. As you do. Stars Moon Ji Yong (Once Again). Based on Moscareto's web novel of the same name, directed by openly gay & queer activist Kim Jho Gwang Soo (Just Friends?). 

Dec 28 - H5: Love in the Future from Taiwan (prob Gaga or Viki) - A cheerful and energetic student from 2000 travels to the future (2022), works as a deliveryman, and meets his first customer, an heir with a domineering personality. Directed by Nancy Chen (HIStory 4, Papa & Daddy).

I’m working on my end of year wrap ups, trends lists, and BL stats reported. Let me know in a comment if there is any specifically you want to know of have deep feels about. 

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Beautiful pining work you’re doing there, Palm. Yearn, baby, yearn. (Never Let Me Go)

Fated mates, always a favorite of mine. (The Director who Buys Me Dinner)

GMMTV got itself a drone. Not sure how I feel about this. 

Games is my spirit animal (609 Bedtime Story) 

(last week)

[kissmetwicekissmedeadly]

4 years, 40 facts about me loving napo... let's go 🏃🏻‍♀️

...or as @leonscape called it, 40 "Mopoleon" facts?! (picrew link)

the date of our "anniversary", June 19th, is one day after the date of the battle of Waterloo 💀

both our given names are of Italian origin

we're both leo zodiac signs

our birthdays are 8 days apart, in the same month

he's my first otome route ever played

i've only played his route once, in July 2019

i've never seen his dramatic ending

my first impression of him on a teaser tweet of ikevamp EN was that he looks like an asshole, and I didn't like his looks either...

my falling for him was utterly illogical as despite these thoughts I put him on my phone wallpaper a few days later (still before the release of ikevamp EN)

as of right now ao3 says he appears in 59 of my posted works: the total number of fics I have published with him is higher as a few of those are stand-alones in a multichapter fic (napoleon bday prompts 2019 +9, yumeweek 2020 +5, mini requests +4, headcanons +11 ) ...he appears in about 1/3 of all my fics!

we share a hobby of reading biographies! the official ikevamp character sheets state it as his hobby

our height difference is 18 cm

the @xxsycamore blog exists solely because of him, as well as my passion for writing - I started this blog because I wanted to express my love in some kind of creative way, as previously (and for the longest time) I thought my medium would be art instead of writing

despite that, my first ever posted fic is not with him but with Arthur!

I've always loved languages but he had influence over my choice of learning especially french in uni. It's hell but I don't regret it at all

I have a playlist with sleepy-themed songs for him 🥺

birds are my favorite animals (any kind) and he has a pet eagle!!

our mbti personality types are a so-called perfect match! infp + enfj

I don't like black-haired, blue-eyed men because of him, it was my type before him too! (not many such ikemens around but I have a handful of faves like that from other media)

as the fictional napoleon bonaparte is light years away from the historical figure, I thought I wouldn't be interested in learning about him - until I ended up reading multiple books on him, the thickest of which 680 pages... while I don't mix the two in my head, the napoleonic era history (+ russian empire history) is still pretty cool to know imo!

there's hardly any writer around here who hasn't received a napoleon request from me at least once... I'm so sorry...

it is implied in the game that napo has kissed boys (they were taking turns waking him up and they all know of his habit......) which gives me enough reason to headcanon him as bi....like me 🥺

I really suck at completing the bday creation challenges I host for him, as last year I did 0 prompts and the year before that 2....but in 2019 I did 10!

I love making bday gifts. I love birthdays. I don't have the exact number but last year a lot of characters received a bday fic from me but not napo 💀 partly because I was shadowbanned back then!

the only real tradition I have when it comes to his bday is to make homemade crepes since it's his favorite food! but my favorite part is eating them...

I still haven't watched the movie "Napoleon & Me"...

I don't have much napo merch, but I do have the Naplushieon doll which is plenty

I was still in highschool (11th grade) when I fell for him 🥺🥺🥺 it feels like ages ago

I love the song written for the ikevamp stage play and sung by his voice actor Nobunaga Shimazaki, "Lucida", so much you can even find it and play it on my blog... recently some kind soul uploaded the whole version on youtube (I've been waiting for so long....) and I haven't been the same since

my dream napo merch is the clothes hanger with his neck and face so that I can hang my silly little sundresses on him (I'm going to make it on my own actually, just watch)

after having so many random fic ideas for him that will never see the light of day, I accepted the facts at last and now I feel so much better and more chill

I'm currently working on fanart series where I try to post one tablet-drawn art of him every month... I have trouble keeping them simple as desired sometimes but I'm having lots of fun while learning (I still consider myself fairly new to drawing with my tablet)

once I wrote a death anniversary fic for napo!

the best napo song i've discovered so far is Wings by Su!YoON!

I don't know. anything. about his sequel. i just know the cgs. not that is hard to avoid spoilers LMAO

my most favorite napo cg is the 5th bday one (where they're in a field of roses) (it was on my phone's background for a very long time)

my most favorite napo card...that's a trick question but I think the one that is on the left banner in my blog (desktop view)

yes, yes I do want to go to Corsica one day what about it. I have a lot of other dream trip destinations too!

yes, I do love Napoleon cake (It's a russian recipe) (it was my bday cake in 2020)... but so do I love a whole lot of other cakes...!

Fact number 40 is that I love Napoleon a normal amount 😇 nono listen!! I do talk a lot about him, and here I tried compilating facts that are not too cheesy: believe it or not there are days I don't think about him, ok! I never pressure myself to get all the event bonus stories, or to always have a fic ready for him... in a world where im a worrywart about anything and everything, he's my safe place? my chill place? And if I begin to think about the gigantic mass of things surrounding him that are exactly aligning with what I love, with what comforts me, with what traits im looking for in a person, i'm going to get dizzy. So let's end this here with me saying, ily so much Napoleon 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 im such a nunuche sometimes but im your nunuche ‼️‼️

[exo-wvrse-bbl]

13/01/24 - kai

Jongin replied to the fans' comments there's a lot so its all under the cut

f: ah I really missed Kim Jonin!! k: me too (cutely)

f: our bday is 5 days apart. Yours is Jan 14th, mine is Jan 19th k: happy birthday hehe

f: omg the day when jongin said dessert is delicious is finally hereㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ k: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ I'm in trouble

f: you can eat the cake everyday too ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ k: no i really cant

f: ah really i haven't tried that (butter cake) k: try it soon

f: Kai! Have a happy birthday! Are you having a good time🫶🫶 k: I'm always happy ㅎㅎ

f: if u like butter bar then you seems like financier too!! Hv u try it k: i did ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Turns out there are many things that I should've [stayed] not knowing the existence of in the first place (T/N: Because now he knows how tasty and tempting they are)

f: what birthday gift do you want? k: i've been receiving it for 12 years already hehe

f: 2024 without Jongin is so boring I'm going to die k: then 2025 will be so fun that you're going to die (said cutely)

f: jongin-ah you're healthy right??? ㅠㅠ i miss u so much ㅠㅠ k: I'm the healthiest in the world right now

f: did u get a bday present? k: i dont need a bday present hehe there are a lot of my presents here in weverse

f: how long is ur hair that has been growing now? k: it's short. Bc I've had to cut it 3 times

f: i need to go to work soon but i want to play more with jongin… i don't want to sleep ㅠㅠ k: dream of me

f: jongin-ah please eat a lot of food and don't get sick. Eat 19940114 piece of rice k: i eat a lot of food and now i'm in trouble..

f: lets meet asap i miss you k: me too but lets enjoy this moment hehe

f: oppa did u meet raeon today? k: i received a message saying happy birthday from raeon for the 1st time sine he's born ㅋㅋㅋㅋ i'm really happy

f: I am envious and jealous of the people that Jonginnie is replying to and am in pain and sad and my heart hurts and jealous 😭 k: Don't be jealous (said cutely)

He wrote another post k: tell me how to get rid of the autocomplete as my birthday present

f: jongin-ah u can set it on setting>general>keyboard>automatically complete off k: you're an angel❤️

f: I have to go to work tomorrow. I've been out today. I'm exhausted, It seems like I'll have recharge. Our baby. k: Go sleep soon, I'm [usually] in dreamland around this time too

source in desc

[tetsuskei]

Risuuuuuuu I’m in my one piece era rn and I know you love ace, but what other op characters are dear to you? :3

*stacks sheets like i’m getting ready for a powerpoint presentation*

thank u for asking nana, i will gladly share my other faves with you ! :3

obviously we have supreme pookie, just felt like putting him here bc he’s so pretty <3

smoker is second, i loved him from the moment he appeared on screen and i miss him sm bc he hasn’t been present lately

zoro is more than likely third, i always love the fact that our bdays are two days apart heehee and i adore him to pieces

mrs all wednesday aka robin is next, her arc water 7 + enies lobby is my fave arc and her backstory is too !

next is my man katakuri ! he is sooo insanely cool and im ngl the mouth and sharp teeth make me 💗 idk why but he gives me major iwa vibes

mister trafalgar law is another i loved form the beginning, and the timeskip is a blessing bc there’s sm of him !

gonna get dragged for this but uhhh idk if you met him yet but he’s in water 7 ,,, his name is lucci heehee and something abt his aura has my hair twirling

lastly sabo ! i love love him sm and his personality ! i cannot say much abt him bc you have not met him yet but he’s so precious !

[wickedlittleoz]

Hello! I saw that you said requests are okay :> Since we've gotten official OW birth dates, would you be willing to write a shimadacest birthday fic? Whoever's birthday is up to you since the brothers' bdays are near one another hehehdhd SFW or NSFW also up to you! Maybe let them have gift exchanges and passionate birthday kissies too after being apart for a decade :'3

Also I love the way you write! 🥹🫶 Your writing makes me soft inside and all comfy!

Thank you for the time!

HAI THERE thank you for this ask and for being so sweet and for choosing me to realize your ideas!!!! this turned out very nsfw, i'm sorry if you wanted something fluffy and sweet, but it got out of hand and these guys, they really just wanna go down on each other. i can't deny them the (literal) pleasure.

jokes aside anon i hope you enjoy this piece, feel free to send more whenever you want, i love you & hope you have a wonderful week! <3

E-rated shimadacest birthday bash bellow the cut teehee

-

The chant of Happy birthday to you reaches Hanzo's ears as he steps down to the cafeteria early in the morning. He'd meant to be the first person in the kitchen that day, to cook Genji his favorite food for breakfast. But somehow Angela, Cassidy and Zenyatta beat him to it. And to be honest, he's not exactly surprised; since their reunion a couple months ago it feels like he's constantly fighting for Genji's attention, with how popular he is among the Overwatch team.

The grimace of annoyance disappears from his face, however, as soon as Genji comes into view. Wide smile, sparkly-eyed, joyful as ever. It's his day, Hanzo reminds himself, joining the friendly choir. He deserves so much more. But, as always, it seems that Hanzo is the one getting more blessings than he should, because as soon as Genji sees him, he shouts, "Brother, come here! We should celebrate your birthday, too!"

He doesn't remember the last time he celebrated his own birthday. But of course Genji won't take no for an answer, jumping excitedly all the way to a flustered Hanzo and hugging his shoulders while the rest of the group repeats the song, this time calling out the elder brother's name.

"Did we miss your birthday, Hanzo, dear?" Angela asks minutes after, as Zenyatta hands out equally-sized cake slices.

Hanzo shakes his head, but it's Genji who cuts in to explain. "It'll be his birthday in a week, still. But we always used to have shared parties when we were kids, right Han?"

To which Hanzo can only nod, lost in memories of childhood birthdays that Genji's eyes bring out of the depths of his mind. Even when Mother wanted to give them their own separate parties, the two would insist in celebrating together.

"When Genji was born," he says before he even thinks about speaking. "Our mother told me he was my own early present."

The room breaks out in awws and cute!s, but Hanzo is still lost in Genji's face. The soft happiness of his expression. Not a single day has passed that he hasn't felt those words were true; his little brother was and is, in fact, the greatest gift the universe ever offered him.

Then, as he always would in their childhood, Genji reaches out and smears whipped cream on Hanzo's cheek. He just rolls his eyes, biting back laughter. "Really?"

Their friends seem to be distracted in conversation and Genji takes advantage of that, whispers, "Yeah, really." And leans in to lick Hanzo's face clean.

Genji doesn't immediately pull away and his breath on Hanzo's wet cheek sends a shiver down his spine. Hanzo tries to breathe, but every inhale fills his lungs with Genji's scent. He knows what his brother's doing, what he's hinting at. Their most intimate celebrations have resurfaced in his memories as well and he can't wait to have a chance at them again.

"I have a gift for you," Genji says in his ear. "Come to my room later."

Hanzo nods and Genji pulls away as soon as the door swings open, and yet another Happy birthday to you crowd approaches. He finally manages a grounding breath. The night can't come sooner.

They're surprised with another cake, another surprise party that night. This time Genji lets Hanzo hang in a corner and takes the spotlight, takes all the hugs and good wishes and gifts. The evening seems to go on forever as he sits in absolute stillness, though inside Hanzo is bubbling in anticipation for the moment everyone agrees to head to bed and he can finally, finally have Genji all for himself.

Reinhardt is the last to get dragged away, drunk and rambling, and after helping with the cleanup, Hanzo bids everyone goodnight and slips away to his room. Deep down he feels stupid, getting all dollied up for Genji, of all people, but they get so little alone time here in Gibraltar that his instinct is to try and leave a good impression. Has to shake himself in front of the mirror, grab the box of Genji's present and leave the room before he starts changing clothes all over again.

It takes no time at all for Genji to respond with come on in when Hanzo knocks on his door. When it slides open, it offers Hanzo the sight of literal heaven: Genji, lying in bed with an arm behind his head, all his flesh bits exposed (which is rare, so rare, for him to let them out, and it's a pity because he's beautiful), legs spread wide. Hard. Wet. Delicious. Stroking himself leisurely.

For a moment Hanzo stands by the door, after it closes behind him, just watching. Genji's pupils are blown, his face, relaxed. His mouth, slightly open for easier breathing. Either he's had something, or he's already peaked while waiting for Hanzo to arrive, which is such a lovely idea – that Genji was so excited prepping for their birthday bash that he couldn't hold back and made himself cum.

Hanzo's insides feel warm like molten chocolate just at the thought. He sets Genji's gift down on his desk for later, starts tugging off his clothes as he steps closer to the bed. Genji's breath quickens as he watches Hanzo strip, delicious little sounds escaping his parted lips. Hanzo sits beside him on the bed, fully naked and already semi hard, and at this point Genji's hand is going so fast it's almost blurry.

"Is this my gift?" Hanzo asks, taking note suddenly of how low his voice has dropped.

Genji just shakes his head, no.

His eyebrows shoot up. "There's more?"

Yes.

"Goodness, Genji," he sighs and finally touches Genji, just a heavy hand settling down on his thigh. Rubbing gently upwards, feeling the cold metal that makes him him. "You spoil me rotten, brother."

In response Genji shifts, pulling his other hand free and reaching out for Hanzo, who leans in as Genji's fingers slip behind his head for a kiss. It's sweet and almost chaste; Genji has very little energy to focus on the kiss right now, so Hanzo takes his chance to bite his lips, suck on his tongue. Explore his mouth as deeply as he wants, as Genji only moans and tugs at his hair.

"Tell me something, birthday boy," he mutters as their mouths part, though his face remains inches from Genji's. "How many times have you come already?"

Genji huffs an attempt of a chuckle. It melts into a groan when Hanzo's hand slips up his inner thigh to gently fondle his balls.

Once, he mouths and Hanzo smiles proudly at his correct guess. Years have passed and still he knows his little brother like the back of his hand.

He dips his head to nose down the side of Genji's face, the place where metal meets skin. "You want to come again?" Hanzo asks, and Genji nods in response. Yes.

Poor thing. There's a gorgeous sheen of sweat on his forehead and the vents on his shoulders are releasing a gentle puff of lukewarm steam. Hanzo would love to keep Genji on this edge for hours, to push him to the limits of sanity with lust and desire, but he fears that it might be too much for his circuits.

Once again assuming correctly, he dips two fingers into Genji, finding that he's slick and loose. As soon as pushes them in, Genji shouts, spurts of liquid pleasure painting his chest. He shakes and shivers for a minute, then fully relaxes back on the bed, a satisfied grin painted on his face. Beautiful.

But there's more yet to come.

"Hey," Genji murmurs when at last he opens his eyes again. "You wanna grab those for me?"

Hanzo looks over his shoulder at the place that Genji's pointing out. He didn't see it at first when he walked in because obviously there had been more interesting things in sight, but beside the box that he put down on Genji's desk, there are two other packages, one short and slim and the other one a lot taller than the first. Hanzo frowns, wondering about the contents, but dips in to quickly peck him on the lips, then slowly pulls his hand free (as Genji gasps and sighs) to go retrieve all three of the boxes.

"The bigger one is yours," Genji explains from the bed as he makes his way back. "The smaller one is... Ours."

There's a soft flush on his cheeks when Hanzo gives him a quizzical look. He decides to open the smaller one first.

Well, after Genji opens his.

So once he's returned to his place at Genji's side, he puts the two other boxes down and offers his brother the one that he brought in. "Here," he explains. "I know you have an unlimited supply of these things, but... Kiri got me in touch with Asa. These are Yamagami originals."

Something shiny and delighted crosses Genji's eyes, but when he reaches out towards Hanzo, instead of grabbing the box, he wraps his hand around Hanzo's cock.

"Open it for me?" The shit-eating grin would be audible even if Hanzo weren't staring at his face. "I've kinda got my hands full at the moment."

And well, can he argue with the birthday boy? Certainly not.

Hanzo bites a smile of his own, trains his breathing and his eyes on the package and rips it open as gently as he can, with shaky hands of his own. Out slips a small box of polished wood; sliding open the lid reveals a set of shiny shuriken.

"Damn." Genji whistles. "Fuck me, these are pretty."

"Language," Hanzo reprimands, because no matter how much time passes he'll always be the older brother.

"Oh sure, sorry Han," he's rolling his eyes and smirking. "Stroking your dick is fine, but I can't swear?"

"Precisely," he says just to further annoy him, but Genji just laughs it off. Cautiously, he puts away the box, secured safely inside a drawer on Genji's side table.

Hanzo's breathing hiccups twice as shudders run through him. Genji slows the pace of his hand.

"Open the smaller one now?" He suggests and there's a tone of anxiety and excitement in his voice that does the very opposite of what he intended by going slower on Hanzo's cock.

He picks up the box. It's light and doesn't produce sounds when shaken. Genji jabs at Hanzo's shoulder with his free hand, going come on! as he calmly pulls it open.

And a pink little vibrator slips out. Because of course it's a sex toy.

"You can control it through an app–"

"I know how these work, Genji," Hanzo says as he removes the thing from its packaging. He's mulling it over and thinks he probably still has the app installed on his phone since the last time... Well, that was years ago...

"Who did you use it on?" Genji asks. There's no hint of jealousy in his voice; his eyes are hooded but curious. His hand stills entirely when Hanzo leans down to search his clothes for the phone.

"Doesn't matter," is all he says, because truly, it doesn't.

"Who did you use it on, Han?" He's having fun prodding at Hanzo, the asshole.

But Hanzo isn't going to dwell on the past now. He sets up the connection, checks that the toy is working as intended, then turns to Genji with a smirk of his own.

"Tell you who I'm about to use it on, now," he says, pushing the toy deep inside Genji's ass. "Happy birthday to us, Genji."

The two explode into laughter, but Genji's quickly turns to moans as Hanzo turns on the toy. He sets it up to a low vibration at first, just to test the waters. Genji is quick to recover from the initial shock and just sighs, rolling his hips to the rhythm of the toy.

Hanzo keeps his phone close, but sets it down on the bed and reaches for the third and last box.

"Ah, you're going to like this one," Genji breathes. His hand returns to Hanzo's cock and Hanzo moves closer to him on instinct, indulging the touch.

From inside the box he retrieves a bottle of very expensive sake, the type that they don't find outside of Japan. He hasn't had a taste of this one since... Well, probably since he fled the country, all those years ago.

He looks from the bottle to Genji, then back at the bottle, then back at Genji. He's grinning proudly as Hanzo frowns.

"This must have been expensive, brother," he murmurs. Genji's always been one for irrational expenses.

"Hanzo, please." He's glaring daggers at Hanzo, "Can't I spoil my older brother rotten?"

Somehow the response breaks his defenses. Yes, Genji can do whatever he wants, he deserves it, even if what he wants to do is coddle Hanzo, who does not deserve it.

But this is their birthday bash, after all. He opens the bottle, takes a long swig, then passes it over to Genji. It's delicious, even more so when Hanzo leans in to kiss Genji and taste it on his tongue.

"Thank you," he murmurs into his mouth and Genji smiles, kisses him again.

"Happy birthday to us," Genji parrots. He's not drunk yet, but Hanzo feels lightheaded with how much love he has for his brother.

Then Genji is picking up the pace of his hand and Hanzo takes his phone, cranks up the vibrator just slightly. He straddles Genji's chest (which is sticky, he'd forgotten, with cum, but once he realizes it he loves the feeling) and inches closer, closer, until Genji's hand slides over to his hip and instead he takes Hanzo in his mouth.

It's been over a decade, but nobody ever knew quite how to blow Hanzo the perfect way like Genji does.

He passes Hanzo back the bottle, grabs at his ass with both hands and goes to town, swirling his tongue and pressing and sucking, and grazing his teeth just slightly, just that edge of pain that makes Hanzo's eyes roll back into his skull. When Hanzo grabs his hair and starts to fuck his mouth, he knows to relax and take it, to groan around his cock, sending sparks up Hanzo's shaft. And when Hanzo buries himself as deep as he can possibly go, to spill his pleasure down Genji's throat, he swallows it all, nice and pretty like the little slut he is.

He's so good that Hanzo figures he deserves to have the toy amped up yet again.

At this point Genji is squirming, cock hard and leaking again, and frankly Hanzo could just watch him fuck himself crazy on the toy – he does sit back for a moment, taking sips of sake and enjoying himself. But then he thinks, well, it's Genji's birthday. Maybe birthday boy has other ideas.

He leans closer to Genji's face again. "Tell me what you want, brother," is but a whisper.

Genji grins wildly. "Told you before," he stutters. "Fuck me."

Hanzo's hands are already reaching for his thighs. "With or without the toy?"

"With."

Gods, I love him.

The bottle gets abandoned in favor of something much, much better. Hanzo sits between Genji's legs as he pulls his knees up, offering his pretty ass and his pretty, puffy hole. Genji had lubed himself up thoroughly and it shines, leaking out of him. He grabs at the handle on the toy so it doesn't get lost and starts pushing in, inch after inch as Genji moans obscenely, and Hanzo can only imagine how good it must feel, how full he must be, how the vibrations must be shaking his very bones.

Because now he feels it too, the toy, pressed against his cock in the tight space of Genji's body. And it's out of this world. No one should be allowed to feel so good.

He grabs at the back of Genji's knees, pushing them up, and starts thrusting. Slowly, carefully, watching his face for signs of overstimulation. And though his eyes are glassy and locked onto Hanzo's, he attempts a smile, falling back into frowns of absolute pleasure every time he sinks all the way in.

And Hanzo catches himself thinking that could live inside Genji...

Then Genji is fiddling with a phone, Hanzo's phone, and suddenly the vibrator jolts, hitting maximum power. Genji shouts and Hanzo gasps in surprise, and he has to stop moving because it's too much – his whole body shakes with the toy and he comes so hard he slips out of Genji, paints the bed with his cum. Genji convulsing beneath him, cum shooting in all directions, but he's laughing frenziedly, hysterical with pleasure.

"Hanzo!" He's being loud, Hanzo is certain that people in other rooms down the hall can hear it. "Hanzo!"

"I'm here, Genji," gently tugging the toy out of his body until he stops shaking and Hanzo can pull Genji to his lap. "I'm right here."

They breathe together, satisfied and spent at last.

Genji grins at him. "Best. Birthday. Ever."

And all Hanzo can do is laugh.

They should really go for a bath soon; sweat aside, Genji is all sticky with cum and Hanzo knows he'll find himself just as grimy. But for now they can rest back on the bed (which is also in dire need for a change of sheets), and just breathe and relax.

It is their birthday, after all. They can indulge.

[justneedtofocus]

Okay. I’m not spiraling right now but I am processing. Amanda is coming to visit from 13 to 21. This is happening, her tickets are bought no refunds. In reality I should’ve told her no or to at least leave in the 18th but I didn’t and now I’m in this situation. I guess the plan today was summer planning but I didn’t realize it was gonna be Amanda planning and crying but here we are.

Here’s what else is happening:

13, we land at 11:15, come to my place, chill out (hopefully), maybe go to space needle.

14, pick up mom from airport go to celebrate nanas bday. Right now mom is making me feel guilty for asking Momi if Amanda can come over and telling me that I shouldn’t have let her visit this week knowing it was nana bday. So that feels super. On top of me needing to find places to stay the 14/15/16 so that Alex is okay. If Momi says I can’t bring Amanda then idfk what to do. Maybe leave her somewhere for the day then stay at Dylan’s? But is he okay with that?? I’m asking him then to host my friend for 3 freaking days that aren’t even on the weekend. He was totally fine with just the Friday night bless him but if I ask for three days I don’t think he’ll be the same?? I don’t wanna be in conflict with him too while I’m already in conflict with mom and Alex. I can’t stay at the ranch cuz they have a class and I need to stay at my place cuz of work.

Anyway, I think this is my breaking point of I’m going to move. Future Kala - either you find a new roommate who is less socially anxious than you/enjoys to decorate like you or something that means less compromising on both parties ends. OR you live alone. OR you live with Dylan.

15, I have no clue this day. Woodinville can’t do. Graham can’t do. Kianas on a weekday? Doesn’t make sense and there’s no space. Dylan’s? Would he be okay with that? Otherwise I have no clue unless we rent somewhere

On the 15&16 idk day plans. I’d like to do movie marathon but Alex doesn’t want Amanda at our place and I don’t have any other places so it’s an issue.

16, Dylan said yes to us staying the night there. I love him (do I? Different essay there) he’s awesome.

17, ren faire day then Alex said it’s okay for us back at my place

18, idk but last free day before working, apartment

19-20 I’m at work, Amanda is out, at my place

21 drive Amanda to airport for 6am flight

Anyway, I guess I’m waiting to hear from momi about the 14th. But idk what to do the 15th. Let’s wait.

So option 1:

13 (14,15,16) 17,18,19,20

Option 2, need to check in if works:

13 (14) 15 (16, 17) 18, 19, 20

If I can’t do momis, then maybe Dylan 14/15/16 or 15/16/17 if he’s okay with it?

So option 1 or Option 3:

13,14, (15,16,17) 18,19,20

[weather-phenomenon]

also the days since we have last spoken grow larger and larger and im ok with that already started drafting their bday mssg lol but there's a whole month to go till then but like yh kinda lucky our bdays are what like 3? 4? days apart lolz so it's like yh we can literally tlk for our bdays then fuck off until like divali and christmas and new years which are all at the end of the year so slay

[barnabyseyelashes]

2024.. we finished moving into our own home yesterday. we bought a place in a mobile home park i’m a trailer park gay now. leaving the dogshitpisshell we left in 2023. and we have the duckies!!

i’m still so. tired. but i’m happy. i didn’t realize i was so miserable for so many months. like summer and on.. it just sucked. we felt obtrusive, like burdens, and couldn’t cook anymore.. like living with a woman i have known since middle school? fine. living with her, her mid 40s bf, and his three fucking kids? in a 3bd, 1 of which we rent? hell no lol. they never even introduced me, it’s been months but i don’t know those kids names. living with drunks esp drunks with children and dogs.. no. no. friday there were 6 separate dog shits in the bathroom that used to be ours and it’s like 6 sims tiles, including the tub.. it’s mad disgusting. so happy to be done. sad my “friend” is such no longer, hasn’t been. she has seemed unhappy this last year and well like hm maybe you shouldn’t let a man 10+ years older than you just raise his 3 kids like 1 week into dating. just a thought. but whatever, she has a broke dumb shit man to drink with and 3 kids who ain’t hers to mind. (they don’t mind them—the abject neglect was so painful to watch. imagine being under 10 years old and your family gives so few fucks about you, you can stay up watching yt until 4 am. on a school night. this was a regular occurrence. there was one day she wasn’t home and her bf didn’t even change his kids into pjs. they laughed. we were horrified.) quite sad, she could have been a much better, different person. she was my first romance when we were 14; it didn’t last long, we were too different. so i shouldn’t be surprised we are still too different to be friends. (still thinking about how she said it would be so embarrassing to be on tumblr these days). there’s still old pics of me and a bday card i made her in the old place from high school. they were there before us, and only they shall remain.

our new place is great, one town up from mine, and smaller. more average people here. no blue lives matter flags. it’s gonna be $$$ to keep it, lot fees alone are rent for apartments in other parts of the country, but she’s ours.. 1600 square feet, 2bd, 2ba. backyard big enough to keep the duckies as emotional support animals. it’s 70s but reno’d, roof is new, porch turned into an extension. vaulted ceilings, carpet only in the bedrooms, full size kitchen !! huge closets. we will set up the extension with art and craft tables, wife will have room in the main living space for an office. it’s gonna be really nice to unpack for the first time in 2 years. come visit !!!

most importantly is we don’t have to mask at home anymore, and the bathroom is accesible so i’ll be able to get my hysto done. i need it too, jesus i was so skinny post covid and now i’ve chunked back up and then some. like i just want my fucking clothes to fit and stop cramping and breaking out and having mood swings. so that will be good..

sláinte agus áthas to you all in the new year 🙏✨💕

[fukashiin]

rating my mutuals!

i dont have too many but it'd still be fun to rate you guys as a small bday gift from me in return for the interactions and moments I've made with you up until now <33 (if you arent here then i was too shy to mention you but i love your works tremendously!!)

@jeidoleech ⤷ KHOI !

1000/10

my first ever twst mutual on tumblr actually. you dont understand i squealed like SQUEALED when you followed me back and tagged me in your mutuals list?? i was over the moon <33 your writing style is adorable and it really butters my biscuits AND I WAS OBSESSED WITH YOUR BABY BLUE THEME WHEN I FIRST FOLLOWED YOU GOODBYE. so thank you?? for following me like?? SO much??? you were apart of the reasons why i wanted to continue writing for this fandom <3333 i cant keep up with you altering between jade and Floyd im gnna be completely honest OKAY.

@mifyu ⤷ MIFFY !

youre adorable/10

some of the sweetest people I've ever met hello??? and your themes just??? top it off???? i was super shy to ask if you wanted to become mutuals but ohmygod i wasnt expecting you to be the ballsy one. thank you for becoming mutuals with me your works are just the prettiest and im looking forward to more!! i bet if we had a competition to see who could say 'ily more' you'd win by a mile.

@iuuru ⤷ MILLIE

我愛你你你你/10

HELLO IM SO GLAD I REACHEDJ OUT TO YOU WHAT. you match my energy so well and i love that abt you??? MY CHINESE SPEAKIMG COMPANION???? the moment i clicked on your blog i just KNWEW i had to become your moot you just seemed so fun and lovable AND YOU ARE. i was able to improve my chi vocab by a little bit because of you and im genuinely so grateful?? MY FAV LEONA KISSER YOUR WORKS AND IMAGINATION IS LITERALLY IMPECCABLE ILYSM I HOPE TO SPEAK IN CHI WITH YOU SM MORE AND CRASH THE TAG LIMIT BY FAWNING OVER YOUR WORKS

@tinyletterz ⤷ REMY !

stop being so gorgeous???/10

i could use up all the synonyms for beautiful in all the languages i know and it still wouldn't be enough. your works are the prettiest???hello??? whyre they so soft and fuzzy??? u deserve all the cupcakes and cats in the world ill literally take you to the cat island. youre personality is so lovely i literally go through the whole water cycle whenever you answer my ask??? so thank you for being my mutual<33 ALSO WHAT SHOULD WE NAME OUR CAT CAFE??

newer mutuals who i'd love to know better!

your guys' personalities are amazingf and itms such an honour to be your mutual KISSES

@siphoklansan ⤷ SIPHOK !

YOUREAMAZINGATARTSTOP/10

your works. your animations. who allowed you to be that talented??? ill always remember the time you said i was lively and fun even before we became mutuals! that made my day!! youre literally some of the nicest people ive met on this app so never give up on your passion for art IM LITERKALLY GOBBLING THEJM ALL UP <3

@twistedchatterbox ⤷ NOIR !

9038839/10

i cnat believe your first interaction with me was digging up my thirst post for idia STOP. IM A CHANGED PERSON. but ohmygod youre so good at art too?? can you stop being so talented with both writing AND drawing???? but regardless im so happy to be your mutual you seem so hardworking with every work you post and i appreciate that sm?? AND I LOVE YOUR OC. SHES BEAUTIFUL;

@cupids-chamber ⤷ CUPID !

i relate to you an eerie amount/10

i couldve sworn i started hyperventilating the moment i saw you follow me????? you may not think that your crack fics are funny BUT THEY REALLY ARE??? at the same time your normal ones make me SQUEAL AND KICK MY FEET IN THE AIR IM SO TEMPTED TO GET RUN OVER BY AN ACTIVE SPEEDING BUS. and congrats on 4.35k!! i hope we interact a lot more <33

⤷ FOLLOWERS !

♾/10

FROM DECEMBER UNTIL NOW IM SO SO GRATEFUL FOR THE NUMBER OF FOLLOWERS I CURRENTLY JHAVE??? YOU GUYS READ MY WORKS AND LIKED/REBLOGGED AND ITS LITERALLY SO MUCH MORE I COULD EVER ASK FOR??????? SO I JUST WANTED TO SAY THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT YOURE ALL SUPER IMPORTANT AND DEAR TO ME I LOVE YOU ALL SMM<333

[lqfiles]

okay, its high time i am now sat to say this!

it has been such a ride with stg, i have thoroughly enjoyed each update so much so that as soon as i'd wake up, i'd pick up my phone and check if you have updated! gawd i have loved it so so much!! sometimes sitting in the class before the lecture would begin i'd sit and write you an ask about it :(

as i've already told you how jisung climbed up my bias list just like that ?? even topping mark somehow who has been my ult for years!! and ofcc how can i not speak on 'slendy', that nickname caught my eye so bad that i really started identifying myself by it! i'm so so so glad that, that one day i decided to send you that ask on how much i loved slendy as a name for jisung, each character that you created somehow had the essence of the real dream in it (except for CHENLE hating on jisung😭)

apart from stg, being a part of the community that you have created has been sm fun!! it has to be destiny that stg ended on my birthday :( it has defo made it sm more special to me, i'd always come back to this, you have officially written my comfort au!

lqfiles, my love! thank you for the hardwork that you have put into the smau, updating so frequently whilst managing college has to be difficult but look at you!! i appreciate your hardwork so so much!!! i have loved stg and will keep doing so <3 looking forward to more of your works!! (very OBVIOUSLY hinting on that hyuck au😍)

love u always, take care sweet one!!

mwahh 💌

-slendy anon!

my cutieful lovely sweety slendy

this is such a cute message 😭😭 it’s honestly crazy fr how you’ve basically stuck around since the beginning and been present for every chapter, and i remember getting that first ask about you gushing over the name slendy and i was kicking my feet because it made my day hearing that lollll and i can’t believe you’d be sending them before your lectures that’s actually cute :D

we went from talking about slendy to sharing our personal life’s in these asks (which the community was interested in too) and the way you’ve made yourself a name on the lqfiles blog is kinda iconic like i’m sure most readers associate stg with slendy anon or any of the other active anons. i still find it funny that stg has for you and apparently some others made jisung a top bias like hearing that makes me feel somewhat impactful when i doubt i am 😭

thinking of it, ending stg on your bday is kinda cool because you were my first OFFICIAL anon isn’t that crazy? guess you could take it as a small thank you for sticking around and sending so many cute messages (as well as private messages, can’t believe you finally messaged me!!!)

tbh managing stg while doing college was hectic at some moments but i also really enjoyed writing it so i don’t regret anything ive done, but thank you for the appreciation you’re so cute bae 😭😭😭💗💗💗 and that hyuck smau will happen hopefully 😝 stg definitely means much more to me because of you and the other anons i got from it!

LOVE YOU MORE SWEETHEART TAKE CARE <33