#anyway that was what the phone call was about i'm out of it because the stupid fucking prior auth for my third refill of this medication is

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue. 

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” 

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one. 

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

two. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 

“What did he say?” 

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three. 

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

four. 

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 

five. 

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 

‘What if he likes you back?’ 

‘You never know until you try.’ 

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 

What if. 

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

…

  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 

“And I you.” 

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one. 

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

… 

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you. 

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

“I’m Wonwoo.” 

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 

four. 

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 

five. 

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

[worrywrite]

I actually have an outline for a story about this.

A guy has this hobby of running a "time loop helpline." He has an extra phone and a large binder he carries with him at all times. People can find him through the phone book or his website. Every now and then he gets a phone call on that extra phone and all he ever remembers is that last phone call. Is usually goes something like "Hey, Phil, I'm on loop 4,068, we made it to part 4.c of the process. Keyword is spanakopita." And he goes to that part of the binder and reads out the next steps in the process. And Phil has never been in a time loop himself, but going by how many people have called him and somehow known what to say to get to specific instructions. But a few days after every last call he gets a gift of some kind, often money from lottery winnings. Sometimes these gifts arrive entirely randomly and Phil just sort of assumes that the last day of the loop didn't require a call but he had helped the person get there anyway. Besides, he's not doing it for the gifts.

And I'll be honest my outline kind of stops there. I do not yet know what kind of situation to put this man in... But I really do like this concept of just being the guy that helps people out of time loops because he figures if they're real the odds of there being a genuinely helpful person in the accessible radius of the time looped person is kind of low. I know having a character that is "just some guy" generally doesn't work, but I feel like it would work for this. Because time loop stories are absurd and often very painful narratives, and sometimes having there be just some guy that will listen helps.

[attempting to flirt] if i was stuck in a timeloop id desperately explain my situation to you every single reset

[befemininenow]

There, there, lovely. It's all going to be okay. You just had a dysphoria episode. We will get through this, I promise.

You start to tear up as you remember the nightmare you woke up from experiencing. You remember every little detail: you had a mistress, she kept insulting you, you were about to be r**** by an unknown man, you couldn't run away, and worst of all, you were a man in the dream! But not just any man; you were your old self in a much weaker form that even in your old feminization fantasies you couldn't picture becoming.

You grabbed your phone to call for some support. It's Melissa. She heard you crying in the background. "Babe, what's wrong? Why are you calling this late? Did someone try to hurt you?" You proceeded to tell her your entire nightmare and wondered if this was all going to be true one day. "Am I just... not a real woman?" Melissa knows all the answers. If you ever needed some help or a second opinion, Melissa was your go-to woman. "Babe, can you do me a favor, please, and look at yourself to the closest mirror?" You obey and do it.

"What do you see? Can you tell me in full detail?" You see yourself and are shocked! When did you dye your hair blonde!? Not only that, but you resemble a Barbie doll! You're wearing a pink lingerie set, white stockings, nice long pink nails, and a cute pink bow to flow with your beautiful long blonde hair. Your heart beats faster as you notice how femme you look. "This is... me?"

"Honey, you were always a woman. It's just that it took you long to embrace her on the outside." You fall in love with the bombshell you've become. Almost like a Disney princess*. "I'm... I'm beautiful.... I'm.. I'm really a woman..." "That's the spirit, girlie! You were just experiencing dysphoria. It's unfortunately common among trans girls, but you'll get through this!" Just as you thank Melissa for her therapy talk with you, she pauses you, "Ah, don't forget to take your hormones. I know it's not fun to take prog rectally, but it's what will help you embrace your change faster. Anyways, sleep well and we'll talk more tomorrow. K bye!"

You take your progesterone as followed and are not used to putting it inside. Meanwhile, you decide to observe the woman looking back at you. How did you became so beautiful? And how long have you been taking hormones? A rushing feeling of euphoria starts to turn you on as you stare at your image in the mirror. You start to rub yourself with your thighs and start to grope your breasts a bit. You start to pant from the steaming sensation and grind yourself a bit. Suddenly, you imagine yourself having sex with a man.

"Oh, god, I... I'm starting to feel so horny right now!" You can't contain yourself and start to play with your own body. Before you know it, you climaxed after having intense fantasies for a few minutes. "I... I.... I let myself out. Did I... really became a woman?" You haven't realized it, but you're well over 20 months in hormones now, 8 in progesterone. The only reason why you had this nightmare to begin is because... you're about to have your FFS tomorrow morning. SRS is about to be next. Is this really the point of no return?

(End of 20 months)

*The girl in this pic is Sabrina Carpenter, a former Disney child star turned pop star.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[thebreakfastgenie]

The social and cultural sacrifices were enough to have continued ruining my life five years later, but I'm glad to know I needed to materially sacrifice myself too, to be a really virtuous person. And I didn't even order delivery!

Suffering is not a virtue. I'm not Catholic. I'm sorry you're struggling so much. You're not the only one. It's hard! It's harder because we haven't been able to go through this together as a people.

I mentioned the social and cultural sacrifices because I think they're significant and should be taken seriously. Too often they're not, honestly. A lot of people suffered and are still struggling. That is a very real consequence of the pandemic and I wish we could talk about that without getting bogged down in arguments about whether lockdowns were a good idea because half this country still thinks the other half was just being dramatic. I'm speaking from an American perspective because I'm American and my post was about America and the effects of the pandemic on specifically American society. I do not mean to ignore that COVID is a global issue.

I wasn't calling anyone virtuous or not. When I talked about material sacrifices, I was thinking about WWII rationing. It was sold to the public as virtue by the propaganda, Do Your Part For The War Effort, but the reality was that there was simply not enough material to continue supplying civilians with what they were used to having available during peacetime and wage the war. If we could have avoided those sacrifices we would have. In 2020, the nature of the crisis as well as the sheer wealth of the United States, meant that material sacrifices were very limited, which made it possible for some people to have a fairly sheltered and privileged experience of the pandemic. It's a good thing, for Americans anyway, that we were able to get through COVID with minimal material sacrifices! I just think it contributed to the collective amnesia about the recent crisis we weathered.

Of course, in order to maintain the supply chain, a lot of people have to continue working under harrowing conditions. That's why they were called essential workers. A lot of Americans are fairly willfully oblivious to how much they benefitted from this labor. These are the people who post about how much they miss staying home and baking bread all day. I've been commenting on this because I think there is a connection between this phenomenon and voting patterns in 2024.

There's also nothing inherently wrong with ordering delivery. My issue is with the very recent expectation of cheap, frequent delivery. You can press a button on your phone and have a hot meal of your choice arrive at your door within an hour. That's a science fiction concept. It simply doesn't exist at low prices without an underpaid labor force and that labor force is wholly invisible to a lot of people. The role of the pandemic in this is that the pandemic helped normalize that expectation because we were dependent on delivery and curbside pickup, not just for restaurant meals but even for essentials. We were also encouraged to order delivery from restaurants as an alternative to eating out, partly because people were throwing a fit about it, partly to encourage some level of social interaction and joy under stressful conditions, and partly to help small businesses stay open. I'm not even morally judging people for spending too much money on delivery, your budgeting decisions are yours, as long as they're honest and clear-eyed about it. It's the entitlement that's the problem because cheap delivery doesn't exist without underpaid labor. And also because people are mad about prices being high and willing to vote for fascists about it.

[melverie]

Last post on the entire date ticket thing and then I will forever shut up about it, but I feel like most people arguing in favor of the price tag are just….missing the point on why people are so angry about the date ticket being $30

I think the one thing we can all agree on right from the get go is that everyone in the staff deserve to and should be compensated fairly for their work. And that obviously includes certain features and items having to cost actual money considering the game itself is free

But the thing is, that $30 price tag don't just exist in a vacuum

First off, we can all agree that charging something like $3 would have made the ticket sell far better, right? Several people have already pointed out that they can buy a week's worth of groceries with $30 and depending on how much you earn, the date ticket isn't exactly something anyone can just buy on a whim. Again, $3 would have been far more affordable for most people, and I'm sure many more people (myself included) would have been far more willing to spend $3 just to see what the date ticket is like, and maybe also buy the tickets of multiple other characters. But $30 for a single date ticket is a luxury a lot of people just cannot afford, or would rather put into something else. Even if they lowered the price, they'd surely break even and make profit with how many players there are

And judging by its contents, I think it's fair to say that the date itself is not worth $30. And I feel like Solmare themselves know this because why else would they have bundled it with 300 DP? The only reason is to justify this price tag because "look at how much DP we're getting with it tho!!" when that's not the point. It doesn't matter whether the DP are included, because there is a lack of choice here. We have other options to earn and buy DP, but we don't have a choice when it comes to the date ticket itself. Either you pay $30, or you miss out on a feature that many of us have wanted for a while now. And since it's the DP raising the price tag,what you are essentially paying for is 300 DP with a date ticket as your purchase bonus, even though it should be the other way round

And honestly? Considering the price, the only two times it would make sense to buy this bundle is if you were already considering buying DP anyway, or if you are financially well enough off that the current price doesn't matter to you. You won't convince most casual spenders, and you most definitely will not convince a f2p player to pay for this feature

The other thing is that we had no idea what the date ticket actually entailed because we weren't given any information on it. Thanks to people in the community buying and reviewing this feature for others we now know that the date consists of one phone call, a ~10 minute long, partially voiced date story-line and a Majolish background. Except, those are things that Solmare themselves should have told us right as they announced this feature, ESPECIALLY considering the price point. If you don't, you can't complain if people are accusing your company of trying to rip its player base off and of being greedier than the Avatar of Greed himself. But also, that's the thing!

We shouldn't have people in the fandom be the ones to go out of their way to give us basic info on new features, or to even explain certain business decisions in the first place. That's the company's job. Yes, certain explanations should be a given (such as microtransactions existing so that the staff can be paid the money they obviously deserve), but there are other things that should have been explained by Solmare themselves

Open communication with the player base is the key phrase here, and imo Solmare has been doing worse and worse on that front as of late, resulting in several unexplained choices that just seem questionable at best and scummy at worst, as well as a player base that grows more and more disgruntled by the day. And that frustration within the player base shows in the amount of people dropping the game, as well as in the amount of money it's making

People are willing to put their time and money into something they deem a good, quality product with a justified price considering the content. If your player base isn't putting in the money you are expecting, then maybe you should listen to their feedback and re-examine your product instead of overcharging a feature because "look at this thing you're getting extra that no one asked to be included in the bundle in the first place"

Literally part of the reason LaDS has grown to be so successful in such a short amount of time is because they keep making adjustments based on player feedback, even on some minor things. I mean they literally pushed out an update to correct the color of one of the character's tongue in the newest card because people were complaining, like hello!! Imagine Solmare listening to complains as minor as this

Anyway, whether intentional or not, this entire thing just feels scummy, and that's the problem. The choice we have is either "pay 30 bucks per character or miss out on this feature entirely", the price is artificially inflated with the inclusion of DP that we have other ways of getting, romance is slowly fazed out of the story only to now be put behind a heft paywall, we weren't told what we are even paying for exactly in the first place, and there has been a severe lack of proper communication from Solmare that have soured the relationship to the game's fanbase and, most importantly in this context, their customers

No, companies aren't our friends. Yes, they need to make money. Yes, they should pay their employees fairly. And no, we as consumers shouldn't expect nor are we entitled to everything about the game being free because again, the people working on this game deserve to get paid fairly for all the work they put into it

However, people are still allowed to be critical of a company and its decisions, especially when they feel like they are getting ripped off. The 300 DP might soften the blow, but that doesn't stop everything that has happened before from being a slap in the face. That's why people are pissed right now, and honestly it's been a long time coming

[gojo-mochi]

Dear Softy 💐 I come to humbly (&on my knees) ask for any sort of continuation to the 5 times nanami was sorry piece. I'm not a rereader, but I've read yours so many times I lost count, and nothing else hits the same. :(

HAHA Thank you for continuing to enjoy that fic <3 I still think it's one of my best works, so I'm glad someone likes it that much.

This part wont have reader in it! It set in before reader and Nanami had sex. But from Nanami POV now. So you get to see a little bit more from his mindset and what he’s like out of work hehe.

Part of this fic 5 Times with Nanami...

Satoru changed the group name to “The Skibidi Squad”

Suguru: … do I even want to ask

Ieiri: I’m too tired to even change it back, whatever

Yu: I saw some people in last night’s game say that in chat! 

Ieiri: Yu stop playing those games with Gojo and Geto, it's bad for your brain and mental health tbh

Yu: :c 

Suguru: Hey! Don’t lump me in with Satoru like that, we would have won that game if we didn’t have a monkey for a jungler…

Satoru: Alright, now that I gathered everyone here… (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Ieiri: You didn’t gather anyone.. This is a group chat

Satoru: ANYWAY! I have serious news that need addressing right NOWW 

┬─┬ノ(ಠ_ಠノ)

Suguru: I’ll bite, what is it

Satoru: I know you already bite ( •̀ω•́ )σ

Ieiri Kicked Satoru out of “The Skibidi Squad” 

Suguru Added Satoru back to “The Skibidi Squad”

Ieiri: Of course you would

Suguru: If I didn’t I would had to deal with him whining about it for hours

Satoru: First off, Rude. Secondly, NANAMIN HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND HE DIDN’T TELL US ( ≧Д≦)

Yu: :0

Ieiri: We know

Suguru: ^^ Technically not his girlfriend yet I think, but she’s pretty cute

Satoru: You guys all knew and didn’t tell me??!?! Traitors! 凸(｀0´)凸

Shoko: I knew because Nanami asked me advice on what kinda cologne girls would prefer

Suguru: I saw him ordering more than usual at the bakery and it was easy to put 2 and 2 together ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Yu: I didn’t know :c

Satoru: Haibara, it’s you and me against the world (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Nanami: …

Satoru: Well, well, well… the traitor finally shows up

Nanami left “The Skibidi Squad”

Satoru: WAITIIITSKDJF

Satoru: WHA- HE BLCOKED ME SOMEONE ADD HIM BACK

Ieiri: Yu don’t add him back

Yu: Oki! C:

Satoru: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nanami sighs to himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. Silencing his phone and pocketing it as he walks on forward. He was already close to his destination and didn’t need to look at the map anymore or be spammed by Gojo’s annoying pestering. A quick turn into a shady alleyway, and Nanami was soon greeted by the neon lights welcoming sign of a bar called “The Devil’s Chainsaw”, an odd name with an even odder bartender. 

Shoko liked coming to this bar though, and this is where he agreed to meet with her tonight, so he had no complaints as long as the alcohol was good. As Nanami stepped inside the bar, he was instantly met with the smell of cigarettes. Shoko peered over to him; she was sitting at the end of the bar, dressed in slacks and a dark sweater. She waved him over with a hand as she finished her conversation with the bartender. 

The redheaded bartender looked over to Nanami as he took the seat next to Shoko; her strikingly odd eyes were a stark contrast to her soft, dulcet voice. 

“What can I get for you, sir?”

"Just a whisky sour would be fine.”

The bartender nods and leaves the two to converse among themselves. Shoko lightly taps Nanami’s knee with her hand and smiles at him. 

“So, Lovebird, how’s the seducing going?”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitches at that, and he turns to look at Shoko with a withering stare. Which she paid no mind to, just taking a long drag of her cigarette, waiting for his answer. 

The bartender comes back with two drinks for them, a whiskey sour and a black russian. Nanami takes his drink and gulps down half of it, his heart feeling unusually tight tonight. 

“Don’t call me that, and I’m not sure how the... seducing is going.”

His tongue rolls over the word “seducing” like it was a foreign language to him. Shoko hums in response, swirling her drink softly as she leans back in her chair. The light jazz music fills in the silence between them, a comfortable silence that these two were used to. No annoying laugh or taunts from a certain white-haired man to dampen the mood. 

After a while, Shoko spoke up one more, with a question that had been on her mind for a while now. 

“So, tell me, what was it about her that made you fall in love with her?” 

Nanami jumped a little in his seat, feeling his ears burn at the question. He calls the bartender down for another drink and slams down the rest of his drink before even thinking about an answer. 

Once his new drink comes in, he takes a hard swig and sighs deeply. Looking down at his drink instead of Shoko so as not to feel embarrassed while remembering the story of why he fell in love with you.  

Flashback cutscene woooosh

It was back during a very important work event—a collaboration with a different company right before Christmas. Everyone was praying on this event going well to secure the deal with this company and go back home with a smile and a big fat holiday bonus. And Nanami was appointed to lead this event—to greet all the higher-ups, plan the itinerary, and basically do all the work. 

Everything was riding on Nanami’s shoulders, all the pressure from not only his bosses but his fellow coworkers as well. Even just a tiny slip-up will make everyone turn to him with disdain in their eyes. At least, that was what Nanami felt like at the time; he needed to make this event work and make everyone happy, at the cost of his own sanity. 

And with little to no sleep, countless nights planning the event down to each second, and a fake happy-go-lucky attitude he put on, the work event went amazingly. Everyone was happy, toasting and drinking the night away. Nanami managed to sneak away during all the merriment, stumbling his way to a nearby park and slouching down on a bench. All the tension in his body still wounding up his insides as he takes off his glasses and throws an arm over his eyes.

Ignoring everything around him, just wanting a moment of peace for himself for once. To throw away his mask for this brief moment where no one’s watching. The bench underneath him was hard on his back, but Nanami ignored it, focusing on the surroundings around him instead, the wind brushing past the trees, the rustling sounds of leaves, and the smell of frost in the air.

Just being in a suit did little to combat the chill, but Nanami couldn’t be bothered to go back inside right now; he was gonna risk being sick over having to do small talk again. He huddled his jacket as close as he could to his body and pretended he wasn’t shivering a little from the cold. Laying his head sideways on the wooden bench with his knees bunched up to his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, trying to to will himself into a slumber. 

Sleep overtook him like a haunting lullaby; the weight in his shoulders still ache, the wind never slowed down, but soon the chills and the murmurs of the air around him felt almost comforting in a way. 

Nanami didn’t know how much time had passed by the time he woke up, but he knew something was off, though. His head was resting on something much softer than a wooden board; he felt warm and cozy, and even his shoulder’s pain had lessened somehow. 

He groaned and shifted his head around to see what was happening around him. He was still in the same park he fell asleep in; he shifted around again when he heard a noise coming from right above his head. He blinks away his grogginess, trying to see what was in front of him. 

“Nanami-san?”

A voice calls out to him in a soft tone, so pure and sweet to his ears that he almost wants to close his eyes and fall asleep again while listening to it. 

“Nanami-san, are you alright?” 

Nanami grunts in response, knowing that he shouldn’t be falling asleep again, especially in front of a stranger, no matter how angelic he finds their voice. His eyes adjusted back to normal finally, and he found himself looking up at not a stranger, but his coworker. 

“L/N-san?”

He rasps out, finding his throat and lips to be dry, he reaches to rub at his throat. You also reach out, placing the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to feel for a fever. Nanami leans in to your palm, almost feeling disappointed when you pull away; you don’t notice anything, though. 

“You don’t seem like you have a fever… Are you feeling alright? You were gone for a bit, and I got worried. The others told me not to worry, but I came to check anyway.” 

Nanami didn’t respond, causing you to worry even more; he was just staring at you with a quizzical look in his eyes. You reach out to him again, calling his name in a soft tone, which makes Nanami's eyes shoot wide open. With his senses flooding back into him all at once, Nanami realizes a few things. 

One, that he actually did fall asleep in a random park with no fear for his safety on a cold winter night. Two, not only did he decide to sleep in a random park, he also did it during a large celebratory party for his company, without saying a word about leaving to anyone at the party. And lastly, he was resting his head on the very soft lap of his coworker in the middle of the night. 

As much as he wanted to jump up and run away and forget about this embarrassing moment. Nanami calmly sat up, looked down, and realized that you had given him your jacket, returned said jacket to you, and got up from the bench. 

Facing away from you, so you don’t see the blush covering his face, Nanami thanks you for coming to check on him. 

“Thank you, L/N-san, for the jacket and everything.” 

You got up from the bench as well, putting your jacket back on and going to stand next to Nanami. 

“Of course! I still seriously can’t believe no one else wanted to come find you. Honestly…” You huff and shake your heads, remembering how everyone brushed your concerns off back at the party. 

“Still, are you sure you’re alright, Nanami-san? This wasn’t like the usual you, you know?” You pause and shuffle on your feet for a bit before saying the next part. 

“Ah, sorry if that was too personal of me to say. This event was a really huge deal for us, and I want to say thank you.” You turn to face him with a bright smile and a soft blush on your face. 

“Thank you for working so hard for us, Nanami-san. I-..we really appreciate it, and I hope you know that.” 

Feeling a tinge awkward for saying that, you immediately turned back around and started heading back to the hotel first, waving back to Nanami, telling him not to stay in the cold for too long. 

Nanami stood there in that spot for a while after you left, his brain etching every single word that came out of your lips, how your hair looked, the colors of your lips, the scent of your perfume. It was like Cupid came and stuck him in his heart at that very moment. Nanami never heard praise for doing a good job before; it wasn’t like he needed it; at least he thought he didn’t. The results should be enough for Nanami and everyone to be happy. But seeing your bright smile and your kind words being directed at him, that changed something in Nanami that night. 

Flashback end :) 

“Helloooo? Earth to Nanami?”

Shoko’s voice shakes Nanami out of his head. She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. 

“Are you gonna tell me the reason why you like this chick now or what?”

Nanami smiles to himself, swirling around his drink in his hand and simply said. 

“She has a cute smile, that’s all.”

[helloalycia]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

summary: as you and Skye try to relearn how to be friends again, you realise it’s harder than you thought.

warning/s: mentions of injury, substance abuse, poor mental health and basically everything Skye goes through oof.

author's note: here’s part 2! so sorry it was delayed, i’ve been stuffed with cold for the past few days so didn’t have chance to share it. Hope this makes up for it anyway :)

"...and I'm just outside your building now," I said to Skye over the phone, lingering outside.

"I was just about to call," she said in a rushed voice, sounding apologetic. "I'm running late, but I'm almost there. Give or take ten minutes. You can head straight up. The doorman knows to let you in and the spare key is in the same place as always."

I hesitated at her response.

It wasn't a big deal, I'd been to her apartment many times, but it had also been a year since I'd last been and it felt strange to go up alone. Especially because I was just supposed to be meeting her to go out, not actually going inside.

"Oh, I can just wait outside, it's okay," I said, maybe a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to notice.

"No, it's fine, you head up, I'll be with you soon," she assured me, before I heard a sound in the background. "I gotta go. See you in ten!"

I chewed my lip before putting my phone away and heading straight inside. As Skye said, the doorman recognised me and let me straight up, and it felt odd. The last time I'd been in the lift, I was crying on the way down from that awful argument between Skye and I. I hadn't been back since – I'd had no need to. But now...

It wasn't the same, I had to remind myself of that. She wasn't the same. None of this was.

Over the past few weeks, we'd somewhat returned to how things used to be, but it was all baby steps. Being each other's friend was second nature, and yet moments like this sometimes had me stumbling in the dark.

I found her door at the end of the hall, digging out the spare key from behind the framed painting next to it. A stupid place to keep it I'd always thought, but the whole place was guarded anyway so it didn't matter.

After opening the door, I returned the key to its spot before letting myself in. Everything looked the same as I last remembered it, and I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I'd missed it. I still remembered when she bought it and moved in, after her career picked up overnight. We'd had countless movie nights here, sleepovers that lasted days sometimes, and it just brought back so many memories. Good, as well as bad, but I tried not to focus on the latter.

I began to walk around aimlessly, waiting for her to return, eyeing the cabinet full of awards, the framed albums, admiring the penthouse view from her living room, and then I came across some framed photos hung on the wall. Some were of her and her mum when she was a kid, others were as she grew up, and then I spotted a familiar one.

It was a photo of Skye performing her first ever single on her first ever TV appearance years ago, and it was a photo taken by me, one of my first professional gigs as a photographer. A small smile tugged at my lips, realising she hadn't taken it down. I was touched that she kept it.

The door opening made me glance away and see Skye rushing in, looking a bit dishevelled. When she spotted me, she smiled with relief.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to run late," she said as she closed the door behind her.

"It's fine," I said dismissively, before joking, "You know, you're a little too trustworthy. It's been a year. I totally could have come up here and, like, I don't know, robbed you or something. Sold your shit on eBay."

She tossed her bag to the couch as she laughed quietly, quirking a brow. "Oh, really? A year and you've suddenly turned into a criminal?"

"I could've."

"What a personality change."

I laughed as she stopped by my side, nudging me in the arm slightly, before her gaze fell to the photos hung on the wall.

"Ah, going through memory lane, I see," she teased lightheartedly.

I glanced at her with a slight smile. "It's cute that you've still got it. Even if it is a terrible photo."

"It's not," she said with a chuckle, looking at it with pride. "It's a two in one, I had to keep it. My first TV appearance and the day I met you. It just makes it extra special that you took the photo."  

My cheeks grew warm at her words, and I found myself staring at her profile as she smiled reminiscently at the photo. We'd come so far since then and yet I still did a double take whenever I looked to her. Maybe some things hadn't changed...

"I'm just gonna change my clothes and then we can head out," she said after a moment. "Won't be long."

"It's cool, take your time," I said with a nod, watching as she went to her room, before looking back to the photo and finding myself smiling all over again.

—

Becoming friends with Skye again made it easy to remember all the best parts of having a friendship with her, so much that I almost forgot what led to everything being ruined in the first place.

Of course there was the substance abuse, but the reason for that was the anxieties and stresses that came with being one of the most popular celebrities in the world. And it definitely didn't help that Skye never had a lot of support from her team, who only ever saw her as a commodity. Clearly that hadn't changed.

I'd just finished some work one morning and had plans to hang out with Skye after, maybe catch a movie or something as she had the day off, we hadn't really decided. But when I called her, she answered groggily.

"Hey, Skye, you good?" I asked jokingly.

She made a sound like a yawn before humming. "Yes, sorry, I was just napping. Just been tired."

"Oh, I was calling to say I'm free now, but we can rearrange if–"

"No, no, I want to see you," she cut me off with assurance, forcing herself to sound more lively. "A movie, right? Or lunch?"

I tried not to snicker. "Skye, it's your day off and you sound exhausted. It's alright."

"I'm fine, honest," she said confidently, or an attempt at it. "Please, I was looking forward to seeing you."

I sighed, debating whether or not to listen to her. Then, I thought of a solution. "How about we stay in? I can come to yours and we can watch a movie there?"

"Yes, I'd love that," she said with a hint of relief. "Thank you. I'll get the blankets warmed up in the dryer, ready for your arrival."

I laughed quietly. "Sounds good. I'll bring some snacks and be over soon."

And just like that, we both kept to our word and got comfortable on her couch barely half an hour later. Snacks were laid out on the coffee table whilst two fluffy blankets covered us completely. Still, we leaned against each other for warmth.

Skye was definitely burnt out, her general enthusiasm diminished temporarily and her movements sluggish, but she was smiling all the same as she spent time with me. I knew she meant it, but it still worried me that she wasn't getting enough time to simply rest.

"How's tour stuff going?" I asked as she loaded up a film on Netflix.

She shrugged as she focused on the task at hand. "Alright. Been busy. You know how it can get."

I glanced at her. "I do."

She must have noticed my staring as she stopped what she was doing and looked over at me with an amused smile. "What?"

"Nothing," I said nonchalantly, looking to the TV. "Just remember that you can take a break if you need to. It's important or you'll risk burning out."

She sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder and playing with the blanket mindlessly. "I know. I am."

"Enough breaks," I clarified, watching her hands play with it. "I mean, your team are supportive, I'm sure, but they don't always know what's best for you."

She snorted with amusement, glancing up at me. "And you do?"

I met her gaze, half playful and half serious. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll always be an advocate of you taking a freakin' break."

She suppressed a smile as she nudged me appreciatively. "You're right. I will. I guess I've just been busy making sure everything is perfect. It has to be, you know? Especially after everything."

"I know," I said sympathetically. "I get it. Just... take care of yourself. Please."

She nodded, though sunk further into the couch as she laced her hands around my arm to get comfortable, almost like she was ending the conversation without saying so. I took the hint and looked back to the screen.

"Picked a film yet?" I asked.

"Almost."

—

Despite how easy it was to fall back into everything with Skye, there were still topics we didn't discuss. Like we never brought up our friendship-ending argument again, or her time in rehab, and she never talked about the accident. It wasn't that I didn't leave that space open for her to discuss, but it was definitely her way of keeping that separate by not bringing it up. And naturally, I didn't want to force her to relive it by bringing it up either.

But not talking about it meant I didn't always know how to help her.

We were walking around a park near her apartment one evening, enjoying a stroll at first, but then we started to mess around on some of the playing equipment since the place was deserted.

"You really think you can clear it in ten seconds?" I asked her with a laugh as she looked up at the monkey bars.

"I do, yeah," she said, mirroring my laughter as she glanced at me. "You just watch. Go on. Grab your phone. Timer at the ready please."

Curious, I pulled out my phone and stepped back, finger hovering over the timer. "Ready when you are, idiot."

She grinned before standing beneath the monkey bars. Looking up at them, she took a deep breath, about to jump up, but I intentionally interrupted to throw her off.

"You sure you don't wanna stretch first?"

She jumped and glared at me playfully. "Shut up. Just get ready."

I laughed and waited patiently, watching as she readied herself once more. And then she jumped up to grab the bars and I started the timer.

She managed to move down three bars before faltering at the fourth one and then letting go all of a sudden. My eyes widened when she landed on the tarmac with a sharp gasp, and I forgot all about the stupid timer as I rushed to check on her.

"Shit, Skye, you okay?" I asked quickly, kneeling down beside her.

Her face contorted in pain as her hand clutched her back. She was leaning on her elbow, clearly hurt.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she muttered quickly, though she winced and her eyes were squeezing shut to suppress the pain.

I noticed she was holding her back – not really putting together that it was from her existing back pain from the accident – and tried to help by reaching for her jacket to see if she'd hurt it from the fall.

"No!" she suddenly shouted when she saw me attempting to touch her, and I jumped.

"Okay, sorry, sorry," I apologised, not wanting to overwhelm or upset her anymore than she already was.

I moved my hand back, but she grabbed it and squeezed gently before I could, an attempt at an apology for her outburst. A shaky sigh escaped her lips as she breathed out the pain, and I didn't say anything more as I held her hand, waiting patiently. Though my heart was clenching with concern the longer she took.

"It hurts sometimes," she finally spoke, avoiding my eyes, "from the accident. That's all."

When I realised it was much more than just falling from the monkey bars, I felt stupid and spoke without thinking. "Do you have medicine?"

She tensed her jaw as she glanced at me.

"Stupid question, sorry," I realised, grimacing.

She let go of my hand and shook her head, expression softening. "No, it wasn't."

Something was bothering her, more than the pain, but now wasn't the time to ask, so I settled on helping her stand up.

"Maybe we should call it a night," I said carefully. "It's getting late anyway."

She nodded, still avoiding my eyes, and we both walked back to her apartment in an awkward silence. A million things were running through my mind, mostly out of concern for Skye, and acknowledging my utter stupidity. For once, I couldn't read her.

When we reached the lobby inside, we paused by the lift.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to dial down my worry for her sake.

"Yes, sorry," she muttered.

"It's fine," I assured her, eyes scanning her expression as she purposely looked at my shirt and not me. "I didn't mean to overstep before. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She shook her head, eyes flickering to mine briefly, sad, before looking down to her shoes. "You didn't. I just–"

She paused, a moment too long, enough to make me wonder what had her so uneasy.

"It's not pretty," she finally spoke, quieter than usual. "The... the scar. It's..."

"You don't need to explain," I said, when she didn't speak anymore, though my heart ached with concern, soon realising her uneasiness was embarrassment. An unnecessary embarrassment at that, as if I'd care about a scar when she was still here, alive.

I gave her a moment, hoping she'd say something more, but she didn't.

"Will you be okay?" I asked worriedly, not wanting to leave her tonight if her back was flaring up.

She nodded. "Yeah."

I nodded too, though was unsure how to say my goodbyes. Usually I'd go in for a hug, but she was already uncomfortable with me touching her before and the last thing I wanted was to do that again.

But then she finally looked up, eyes meeting mine gratefully, before she hugged me.

"Thanks for not thinking I'm weird," she mumbled into my shoulder, arms wrapped around them tightly.

I returned the hug gently. "I could never."

She didn't let go straight away and neither did I, not until she made the first move since clearly she needed this hug more than I did.

Finally, she pulled apart and offered me a small smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight," I said, returning her smile, before reluctantly leaving her.

—

It was the first time we'd even come close to talking about the accident and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. She wasn't opening up and I wondered if she felt like she couldn't. But maybe that incident was the key, because things changed soon after.

About a week later, I was fast asleep when I woke up to my phone vibrating on my bedside table. Confused, I cracked an eye open, wondering who could be calling in the middle of the night, but then the vibrating stopped. I considered if I cared that much, before deciding it could've been an emergency and checking who it was.

When I saw Skye's name, I woke up a little more, overcome with concern since she'd never called like this before. Immediately, I rang her back. It took two rings before she picked up.

"Hello?" she answered with confusion.

Still half asleep, I answered groggily, "Why are you confused? You just called me."

She sighed. "I did. Sorry. I cut it off when I realised."

She sounded different, her voice hoarse.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing my eyes.

"Sorry, I just–" She tutted at herself. "It's late, Y/N, go back to sleep."

Even half conscious, I knew she wasn't okay. "Skye."

It went quiet, but she gave in, to my relief. "I had a bad dream," she admitted quietly. "I just wanted to distract myself. I didn't mean to wake you."

I frowned to myself. "Are you okay?"

A shaky sigh escaped her lips. "I will be. Really, just go to sleep, I'll be fine."

"I can't sleep knowing you're by yourself," I told her, too tired to hide my worry.

She paused, and then her voice came out guiltily, "Sorry."

"Don't apologise," I said gently, before asking, "Do you want me to come over?"

"No," she answered quickly, before adding, "It's late. I don't want you up and about this late into the night."

I was already pulling my duvet off and sitting at the edge of my bed as I said, "It's not a problem, Skye." It went quiet on her end, so I prompted, "Skye?"

"You don't mind?" she asked hesitantly.

Realising she did in fact want me there, I tried to reassure her. "No, of course not. I can come now."

She practically held her breath. "I owe you."

"You don't."

Exhaling softly, she said, "I'll send a cab to get you. I'll cover the cost. I don't want you on public transport in New York when all the weirdos are out."

I cracked a small smile. "Okay, Skye, see you soon."

Sounding relieved, she said, "See you soon."

I yawned as I hung up, trying to move quickly but still trying to wake up and so unintentionally moving at snail speed. After packing a small bag, including a change of clothes and some toiletries, I pulled on my shoes and a jacket before leaving for Skye's.

The taxi ride wasn't long since the streets weren't busy, and I found myself at Skye's door in less than twenty minutes. As soon as I knocked, she opened up.

"Hey," I said with a tired smile, before hugging her in greeting. "How are you?"

She hugged me back and let me in, closing the door behind me. I noticed she was wearing her pyjamas, hair dishevelled and eyes a little red.

"Better now," she admitted, before frowning. "I'm sorry I woke you up. But I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you did," I told her, before leaving my bag by the kitchen counter. "So, what do you want to do?"

"You're tired," she noticed.

I waved a hand dismissively, trying to look more awake. "I can stay awake if you want, Skye."

She sighed, shaking her head, before wordlessly grabbing my hand and dragging me to her bedroom.

"Come on," she said as she climbed into her queen sized bed, so I got out of my shoes and jacket and followed suit, settling in beside her.

We laid on our backs, staring up at the ceiling in silence. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I glanced at her, her expression dimly lit by the moonlight and lights shining through her blinds. She was weary, though attempting to hide it.

"Do you have bad dreams often?" I asked curiously.

She swallowed visibly. "Not as much as I used to, but... sometimes, yeah." She paused, as if stuck in an internal debate, before admitting, "It was about the accident."

At the mention of the accident, the air in the room felt charged with uncertainty, and Skye's jaw tensed slightly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked tenderly, and when she didn't reply, I quickly added, "Or you don't have to at all."

Her dark eyes flickered to mine, surprisingly calm. "It's okay. It's just– it's a lot. And when I'm alone, it's..."

"A lot," I finished for her.

She nodded, looking back up at the ceiling. "Yeah."

I found her hand between us, squeezing it gently in support.

"I remember how difficult it was after," she muttered. "That, and the withdrawals, and all of it – it was a lot. Being in the hospital... I had my mum, but it felt so lonely."

I frowned as she recalled the experience, hearing it for the first time from her lips. And then she looked over at me and I looked back, realising there were tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you come?" she asked, voice cracking and eyes welling up. "I wanted you to visit so bad. I– I thought you would."

Not expecting that, I struggled to speak. "I told you, Skye, I thought you wouldn't want me there. I..."

She let go of my hand and wiped her eyes shamefully, looking away. I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbow to look down at her, not wanting her to bottle everything up now.

"I waited," she whispered. "Every day, hoping you'd come to see me."

My heart crumbled at her words, guilt pressing down on my chest. "I'm sorry."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's not your fault, I know that. But I just..."

With the nightmare still fresh and her recollection of the past at the forefront of her mind, I knew her emotions were heightened and she was overwhelmed, and it hurt to witness.

I pulled her into my chest for a hug, rubbing her back gently. "I wish I had. I wanted nothing more than to see you then, Skye, truly. But I'm here now. I promise."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't pull away either. Her sniffles were heard in the silence of the room and she kept a firm grip on my tee shirt, and I didn't know what else to do other than continue to rub her back soothingly.

At some point, we must have dosed off like that because when I opened my eyes next, it was morning. I yawned as I rubbed my face, confused to where I was at first. And then I recognised Skye's room and it all came back to me.

I looked beside me, seeing Skye fast asleep, face smushed against her pillow adorably. She looked a lot better than she did last night and I was glad for it, seriously worried about her. Hopefully she'd gotten some sleep after everything.

Trying not to stare too long, reminding myself that it wasn't very platonic of me, I looked away and carefully clambered out of her bed to freshen up. After doing so, I went into her kitchen to find something to eat.

I was eating from a bowl of cereal at her kitchen island when I heard footsteps, looking up to see her leaving her bedroom.

"Good morning," I greeted. "How are you feeling?"

She hummed tiredly, yawning and running a hand through her dishevelled hair. I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"Better," she finally spoke, brown eyes meeting mine across the counter. "Thanks, Y/N. For coming last night."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, and looked down thoughtfully. After a moment, she said, "I know I haven't talked to you much about it all."

My expression softened. "I don't expect you to."

"I know," she said quietly, before meeting my gaze. "I want to. I do. Otherwise the way I am, how I act... it doesn't make sense and I don't want you to feel confused or think I'm insane or–"

"Hey," I cut her off, furrowing my brows. "I don't think that, Skye."

She chewed her lip momentarily, eyes flickering to the counter top. "I want you to know. Eventually. I just– it'll be bit by bit because I can't go through it all at once. It's too much."

I frowned sympathetically. "That's alright. You can tell me as little or as much as you want, whenever you want. Meanwhile, if you just want the support, I can give you that too. It's what friends do."

She smiled a little, nodding. "Right."

I studied her expression, unsure what to make of it. "Did you get any sleep? Last night?"

She nodded, looking up. "I did, yeah. Thanks for coming. I know it was late. And I'm sorry for breaking down on you."

I gave her a knowing look, offering a small smile. "You need to stop apologising."

She exhaled. "Sorry."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Never mind that. You want breakfast? I can make whatever you want, providing you have it of course."

She smiled as she took a seat. "That would be nice, yeah. Eggs couldn't hurt."

"Eggs it is then," I said, eating the last bite of my cereal before standing up. "Give me five minutes.”

She nodded and watched me, relaxed for even the smallest of moments, enough to put me at ease too.

[thunder-wolf64]

Just ranting about something that's been bothering me for yearsss

So I've mentioned my friend before. Ima call her bestie bc that's what she calls me.

I've known bestie for years.. about 7 I think? I met her when I was forced out of my normal lunch table. The most open table was hers. She started talking to me after r few days of this happening.

Bestie and I were friends. She said we were, and I needed friends. Her behavior was far too much for my shy demeanor. She's neurodivergent, and she has no filter. I'd be scared to be associated with her because of how commonly she said things I would never dare whisper. That was mostly a me issue though.

Sometimes I enjoy her company, sometimes I wish she would leave me alone. Being older now, I have a lot more confidence, I've found it easier to tell her off. She still has no filter.

I've found good friends in my high school years. People who i don't feel cautious around, people who is don't get mad at. People i don't have to hush and keep out of trouble. I feel less like me and bestie are friends, let alone BFFs.

She frustrates me, pokes fun at me, and judges me. I'm not supposed to be mad at her, she can't help it. How terrible would i be to leave her or tell her to stop?

We sit together at lunch as of now, we might not soon due to changing schedules. But she's been leaning into me and grabbing my arm for warmth. And I don't like it. I do my best to show my displeasure, encouraging her to let go as I scroll my phone, but really I'm staring into space and freaking out. She lets go eventually, she's not bad or anything. But it upsets me. She's been stealing my food, making me have to be defensive. Earlier this week I was looking forward to eating a rip banana for once, i told her and she grabbed it, I gently pulled it back, not wanting to damage it or anything and she squeezed it, ruining half the banana. After giggling for a while, she apologized. But she's just been pushing boundaries more.

We were walking down the hallway, and i bumped into her a bit instead of another student, I apologized and she started to pretty much shove me with her entire body weight. I didn't want to be shoved into something or someone, so i purposely shoved her back a bit, which apparently was to much for her. She stopped for the moment but would continue to push me and joke about it for the next few days

Everyone thinks she's my best friend, and I can't just leave her. She has had a lot of rough things happen to her. And she's going through some stuff. I think atleast, she's hard to read.

It's just so conflicting. By nature she's not the easiest person to get along with, but she has a valid excuse in my mind. So i feel it's wrong to dislike her most of the time.

Anyways, that's the yap. Nothing horrendous.

[noxemma]

Dean

It takes Dean a long time to realize that it was gone. Partially because it was a new addition and partially because he was used to the old weight and heft of Baby’s keys. But all the sudden it hit him on a random Thursday afternoon as he, Sam, and Cas piled back Baby after stopping for gas on their way to investigate a case.

He blinks a few times at the set of keys in his hand trying to figure out what is different before he realizes that the silver mustache engraved with the words I'm your huckleberry is nowhere on the keyring. He's not sure how he could have lost it because there isn't even a dangling keyring or chain to indicate that it had been ripped off.

He pats his pockets first, not really holding any hope that it had magically fallen off on its own but needing to check anyway, before fully exiting the car. Ignoring the questions from his brother and the curious gaze of the angel in the backseat, he searches the floor and all the other crevices where lost items usually ended up collecting in Baby.

No luck. The keychain was simply gone.

He's more dejected than he should be at the realization that it's gone for good. After all, he can't remember the last time he'd seen it after adding it to Baby's keys several weeks ago, so he has no way of knowing when or where he'd actually lost the Tombstone memento.

Dean knows he could always buy another one, but it wouldn't quite be the same. It wouldn't be the one he'd gotten because he'd nearly combusted when Cas had quoted the Doc Holliday line to him in a cowboy hat, wouldn't be the same one he'd bought out of sheer giddiness at getting Cas back.

"Earth to Dean? Hello? Possible shtriga killing off kids?" Sam calls, hand on the door to get out and probably shake Dean if he doesn't respond soon.

"Shit, sorry. I just, uh, realized I lost something," Dean mumbles, sliding back into the driver's seat, quickly starting Baby, and pulling out onto the highway.

"Dude, please tell me you didn't lose your gun again!" Sam teases.

"First off, I didn't lose it, Bella stole it from me, and second, no I did not lose my gun," Dean scoffs back.

"Okay, so what did you lose?"

"... nothing."

"Oh, nothing?" Sam pitches his voice low and gruff in a bad imitation of his brother, "Mr. five-minute-break-tops-otherwise-you're-getting-left-behind got out of the car and did a deep sweep of the seats for 'nothing?'"

Dean remains silent but Sam keeps pestering, even going so far as to start guessing what Dean could lost.

"Pocket knife? Clip of silver bullets? MapQuest directions? One of the burner phones?" Sam lists normal things before moving on to ludicrous ones as Dean refuses to budge. "Pie coupon? Your Swiftie friendship bracelet? Lucky condom?"

Cas

"Lucky condom? Really, Sam?"

"Could be? Oh! Your favorite issue of-"

"A keychain, goddamit! I lost a keychain," Dean growls knuckles gripping the steering wheel tighter as he finally answers his brother's nagging.

Cas' hand instinctively goes into the pocket of his trench coat, fingers wrapping around the smooth metallic surface hidden in there.

Sam gapes at his brother open-mouthed for several seconds.

"All that fuss for a keychain? What? Was it made of gold?"

"No, it was just ... I got it when we had that case in Dodge City. It was, I don't know, sentimental? You know what? It doesn't matter. It was just a dumb keychain."

Dean says the words with a smile and a laugh, but Cas can tell from Sam's frown that he doesn't believe the older Winchester either.

"No, if it was important to you, I can keep an eye out for it. What did it look like? A cowboy hat or something?"

Cas' brow furrows in confusion as Dean adjusts his grip and pinkness begins to suffuse his neck and ears.

"Seriously, Sam. It's okay, I just had a moment when I realized I lost it. All good. Really no need to worry about it."

I should tell him, should give it back. I didn't think he really cared about it that much since he didn't notice it was gone, but he's acting oddly about it with Sam, Cas thinks as his fingers trace the curving edges and smooth over the indents of the engraving. Guilt begins to claw at his insides, especially as Dean slumps after a few moments when Sam is no longer scrutinizing him.

He hadn't meant to steal it. Or rather he'd meant to return it much sooner after he'd seen it on Dean's keys. He'd only really wanted to look at it more closely but Dean had come back and for some reason he'd shoved the small keychain into his pocket where it had lived ever since. He'd grown attached to the feel and weight and reassurance of it, though he wasn't exactly sure why the innocuous item should provide him any comfort.

That's not entirely true, I suppose I associate it with good memories. The case in Dodge City was ... enjoyable. I got to spend a lot of time with Dean and he bought me a cowboy hat. He was so excited and happy and ... and he said he was glad to have me back, that I was 'a big win.'

Cas knows that he shouldn't have been eavesdropping on the brothers' conversation, but it had been hard not to in the hotel room. And the spark of warmth and pride that bloomed in his chest from hearing that he, or rather his return, had been the cause for Dean's happiness hadn't faded. In fact, it had only gotten stronger, hence his attachment to the pilfered keychain.

He still wasn't sure why Dean had gotten it, and his confusion had only increased with the recent exchange between Sam and Dean. Because Cas knew that Dean hadn't gotten the Tombstone themed keychain in Dodge City. Which meant that he had gone out of his way to look for and purchase the small novelty, but Cas couldn't figure out why, which is the reason he'd held on to it for so long and not replaced it like he'd intended. Or at least, that was how he rationalized keeping the otherwise meaningless trinket.

It means something to Dean and I want to know what. I want to know why he looked so sad when he couldn't find it, Cas muses as the conversation dies in the car. Dean turns up the music but even the blaring rock is not enough to drown out Cas' next thought.

I want to know how to make Dean care about me as much.

---

He waits for the right moment to return the keychain to Dean or to tell him that he borrowed it for a while, to explain his actions, but no time seems to be right.

So, Cas decides that he'll simply put the keychain back onto Dean's keyring when they all head back to the motel to crash before beginning the return trip back to Lebanon.

He sits in the dark until he's sure Dean and Sam are truly asleep, sprawled on their respective beds. Sam, put together as always, is comfortably tucked under the blankets while Dean is haphazardly passed out, still dressed and with his boots on, snoring none to softly.

Cas takes just a moment to stare down at him fondly, dares to let his fingertips brush through the sleep ruffled hair before he makes his way to where the Impala's keys are tossed onto a coffee table.

He pulls out the keychain from his pocket and gives it one last appreciative caress before he begins trying to reattach it to the keyring.

"Cas?" Dean's slurred voice calls out, startling him into dropping the keys and keychain into a clattering mess on the floor.

"Cas, what are you-? Are you okay?" Dean tumbles off of the bed and makes it to his side where Cas is fumbling to try and hide the evidence of his reverse burglary.

"I'm fine, Dean. I'm sorry for waking you, I, um, bumped the keys off the table," Cas explains to the ground.

"Uh, what," Dean clears his throat and Cas clenches his eyes as Dean's hand closes around the mustache glinting in the low light. "Where did-? Cas, you found it?"

Cas has to tell him, can't bear the thought of Dean misinterpreting his actions as chivalrous, can't bear the joy and warmth bleeding out of his eyes and smile.

"I ... stole it from you. I had intended to return it, but I grew attached to it and so, when you didn't miss it, I kept it. I didn't know that it was that important to you until I saw your reaction the other day when you realized it was gone. And then I couldn't find the right way or right time to tell you and well, I'm sorry, Dean. It was wrong of me."

Dean

Dean's brain takes far too long to comprehend what Cas is telling him and why the angel looks so damn stricken with sadness and guilt. But once the words and their meanings finally penetrate his thick skull the only reaction he has is to laugh.

"Dean? This is not humorous. I stole from you; you should be upset," Cas hisses at him, sparing a glance to where Sam still sleeps soundly.

"Cas, man. How could I be upset with you over that? It's actually really cute. If I'd known you liked it that much, I would have given it to you and gotten myself another one."

"That makes no sense. You were clearly distraught about its absence earlier," Cas mutters, for some reason intent on making an issue of this.

"Okay, well, I probably would be upset if it was anyone else, but, shit, Cas I got it because it reminded me of you. So that's why it's kind of funny that you saw it and wanted to keep it. I guess it was just meant for you," Dean explains, trying not to devolve into laughter again when Cas tilts his head in confusion. "I, uh, ordered it after Dodge City, the gunslinger ghoul, remember? And um well, we were sitting in the car and I told you to act like the people in Tombstone and you thought I meant the city but I said, no the movie and then you, uh, you did a really deep voice and said Doc Holliday's huckleberry line and you'd just come back from the dead and I don't know. I wanted to commemorate it somehow? I mean, despite having to crawl through a nasty tunnel, it was kind of an awesome case. I mean we got to stay at that sweet hotel and you were there and cowboys and we got to wear cowboy hats and... and..." Dean tapers off his ramble with a wince as he realizes just how lovesick he sounds. "Anyway, you can have it. In fact, I want you to have it if it makes you happy."

Dean presses the keychain into Cas' palm, manually wrapping the angel's fingers around it when he doesn't move. Dean lets his own hand linger, bolder in the darkened room.

"I, it does, Dean. Thank you."

Dean looks up at Cas' thick whispered words, startled to find emotion welling in the other man's eyes.

"It, the reason that I liked in in the first place was because it reminded me of that case as well, of how happy you were with your cowboys."

"Hey, you're my cowboy too, my huckleberry, remember," Dean blurts, a little giddy with the way the moonlight filters into Cas' blue eyes and highlights his scruff laden jaw. A little drunk off the fact that Cas has let him continue his quasi-handholding

"Yes, Dean," Cas lets out a huff of laughter before staring straight into Dean's eyes, "I'm your huckleberry."

Perhaps it's the way Cas breathes the words like an oath, or the residual adrenaline in his system, or the moonlight pooling around them and glinting off the damned keychain peeking out of their tangled fingers, or maybe it's a combination of all those things that compels Dean to slip his hand from Cas' to reach behind the angel's head and wrap his fingers in the soft dark strands and pull surprised lips to his own.

Cas doesn't move right away, stiff and still against Dean searching kiss.

He pulls back, afraid he's just made the greatest mistake of his life, but then Cas is surging forward back into him.

Dean can't help but laugh into the kiss when he feels a cool length of metal swing into his neck where Cas' hands have attached themselves. Then he's not laughing at all because Cas takes advantage of Dean's open mouth to deepen the kiss.

Random SPN Prompt

Dean didn't know how he could have lost it.

Cas didn't know the best time to tell Dean he stole it.

[triglycercule]

horror being very specific with table manners and he berates people (dust and killer) for eating like fucking pigs

i think it'd be morbidly funny that because there was no food in horrortale but the cutlery and stuff was all there that maybe he would pretend to eat with no food on the plate. it was in a satirical way that he would joke maybe around horror paps or alone where he would pretend to eat and have really good table manners but then the satire joke became REAL and now horror is incredibly specific about how to eat food

you MUST hold the fork in the left and knife in right says horror. no killer you can't duel wield the fucking knives this is a table not a slaughterhouse. dust pick up your elbows off the table. actually how about you get your entire upper body off the table tf why are you SLEEPING ON THE FOOD??? killer's sitting fetal position in the chair because of course he wouldn't sit normally like the idiot he is. dust is forced to put his hood down and reveal his face no more mysterious shadow style because it puts horror at ease. they cannot have a single peaceful meal because once they get past the table manners phase it then becomes a completion to see who can eat the least (because they suck at everything including eating)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[cranberrymoons]

.

[coquelicoq]

i refuse to feel responsible if my friend's relationship ends up being a bad idea even though there was a period of time in which he would have broken up with her if i had told him to and i didn't. because that is too much power to have in someone else's relationship. he needs to make his own decisions and if they turn out to be mistakes that is not on me.

[californiaquail]

i hate how efficiently phone calls can get things done because i hate making phone calls but i do need to get shit done

[disdaidal]

So I think I'm finally getting a contract and I'm going to start my new studies (as a youth/school counselor) in my old school. I met the principal today and had a talk with him, and he said he was pleased to see me there and would like to have me there because I already know my way around and seemed to manage things just fine when I was still their student. So, that's great, I'm finally getting somewhere.

But I'll have to wait until Friday because he's still not quite sure who's going to be my supervisor, so he's going to have a talk with a couple of staff members about it at first.

And then my teacher in my new school is already pressing me with contract matters and stuff, wanting me to start earlier than I had originally planned or at least get the contract done by then, so uhh. I'm going to have a Teams meeting with her on Friday at 8 o'clock in the morning (I'm not a morning person at all), and I'm sure we're going to have such a lovely discussion about my schedule and study plans and all that stuff.

All this phone-calling and paperwork is giving me a headache. And I still have some school assignments to do and to return before next week, and guess what - ya girl just wants to read and write fanfiction all day and all night. 🤪 Priorities, I has them.