#be it love from the self or genuine love from others

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Yandere platonic Batfam x

Child Girl scout reader!

Notes: reader is a child in this.

Warnings ⚠️: mentions of kidnap and reader is low class. Not proofread. Please do not judge my girl scout logic I am not a girl scout and have never been one!

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

The manor was as dull as ever lately. The big fancy walls of the place only felt colder as time went on.

Dick had broken up with Kori for the umpteenth time that month and was living at the manor ,or more like mopping at the manor..

On rare occasions Cass would stop by. And if they were very lucky jason would stop by and say hi every now and then.

Bruce was as cold as ever not being able to catch the joker and being behind in alot of meetings.

Duke was frustrated with his over all high-school experiences.

And Cass was pretty sure she was going through a mid life crisis despite her still being young.

Pretty soon Tim would graduate high-school and Bruce new he'd be off to living his own life.

Now damian was still pretty young but he didn't really count for a kid. Atleast not in Bruce's eyes. Damian lacked that child imagination. That childish spark. And bruce will admit he is partially to blame....

But on a particular lucky day they had met you!

Or more like Alfred had met you first. And that began the overly possessive vigilanty family to fall absolutely in love with your cute self!

You were about seven never having been blessed with a high class life but your mama sure did try and give you her best!

You oh! so desperately wanted to be a girl scout!

And who was mother to break your heart and tell you she didn't have the money?

So she worked extra shifts at the hospital. Her being a nurse meant that most of her time she was at the hospital working.

But that never stopped her from dropping you off in some of the richest and hopefully safest neighborhoods in gotham so you could sell your cookies for the girl scouts.

She hated leaving you alone but she just couldn't resist your cute puppy dog eyes as you promised you'd be safe....and she really didn't have time to argue or should she'd be late to work, agian!

So with a kiss on the cheek from you and a smile she left. Leaving you on the richest street in gotham.

Sure being low class in gotham was hard but you never saw it that way. You always tried to be kind.

Because in your mother's words, 'in a world where you can be anything, be kind.'

So kind you were. Even to the stuck up little girl scouts who didn't like you because you were poor.

But you didn't pay them any mind! You loved being a girl scout! The other girls were probably just jealous you sold more cookies then them!

Atleast that's what your mama told you.

You smile and skip your way down the street pulling your wagon full of boxes of cookies behind you.

Walking up to each house with a smile on your face most bought some because how could they deny such a cute thing with chubby cheeks?

Sure they'd probably never eat the cookies from a low class kid but they couldn't find it in their cold, spoiled, hearts to say no to you! (They saw it as charity.)

Finally with your last boxes of cookies you pull your wagon with you as you walk up the long drive way and surprisingly the gate was open!

Stepping up to the big door you knock exactly three times.

Alfred being as confused as ever stops cleaning and checks the cameras only to not spot anyone on the footage.

Hesitatently he begins cleaning playing it off as his ears playing tricks on him. But he hears the knock agian. So he doesn't even bother with the camera.

Opening the front door his harsh gaze immediately softens at the sight of you!

Ofc the cameras wouldn't see you! You were to small to be seen on the ring camera!

Your just so cute with your little sash and badges! And your smiles so bright something that the old butler hasn't seen in a while...a genuine smile.

You have that child like wonder that's still in your eyes and by your little dirty shoes the butler knows you traveled a long way to get here.

"Hello sir. I'm here to offer you some of the best cookies in gotham. Girl scout cookies!" You say with one of the biggest smiles and happiest eyes!

"It's five dollars for a box or two boxes for nine! I only have chocolate chip and blueberry left." You say giving your speech like you've done a million other of times.

But this time it would change your life completely.....

To your complete surprise he hands you a hundred dollar bill and you hesitatently take it giving him your last two boxes.

"I don't have change sir....." You say trying to give him back the money to which he just shakes his head.

"Keep it...as a tip." He says his voice holding no pity like the others.

"Really?" You say your eyes shinning with excitement.

And by seeing your happiness Alfred knows you deserve it. So he nods and you take the old spy by surprise by hugging him.

"Thank you so much!" You say as you pull away jumping on the balls of your feet.

"I'll be back every Saturday to give you a box of cookies until I repay you!" You say skipping off with your wagon in tow.

Alfred looks at you with puzzled look did you not know what recieving a tip meant?

Well he wasn't going to stop you from coming back. Especially as you shoot him your absolutely adorable smile as you walk down the driveway and wave goodbye shouting a cute and kind.

"Have a blessed day!" As you leave.

Have a blessed day....Alfred definitely hasn't heard that in a long time..especially in gotham.

You were definitely diffrent...

But you had kept your word coming back every Saturday at 1pm sharp never missing a Saturday!

And each time Alfred would give you a hundred dollar bill saying it was your tip. And you'd give him a hug and tell him you'll be back every Saturday until you repay him!

Alfred doesn't exactly know what about you made him become so attached to you. Maybe it was your hugs? Or your sweet smile?

Either way he didn't mind because he'd wait by the door at 1pm sharp every Saturday waiting to see you walk down the driveway with your little red wagon and big toothy smile.

Eventually he did learn your name and how old you were and you learned quite a bit about him too.

Until one day the he had gotten so caught up in cleaning the manor he didn't even realize that he was about to miss his favorite part of the week!

There was a knock on the door exactly three times just like there always was on Saturday at 1pm for the past few months.

But this time it wasn't the sweet butler you had come accustomed too. No, now it was a big fancy looking man with blue eyes.

"Hello?" He says his voice much softer then it would look like he'd sound like.

Your puzzled eyes search his looking for your dear friend.

"Hi?" You say as tilt your head still searching for your favorite costumer.

Bruce's eyes take you in... your far to young to be out here alone. Where are your parents? He wants to ask but more importantly who are you looking for?

"I usually come by here at this time....do you know where Mr. pennyworth is?" You say your eyes still searching around for the older man.

Bruce looks at you confused how did you know Alfred? Bruce eyes scan you seeing if your a threat but by the way you nervous fiddle around with it your sash as he continues to look at you he deems that your just a harmless child.

"He's inside...do you want to come see him?" He says his voice now much softer and his eyes aren't as cold as they once were. But you take a step back.

You might have been a kid but you aren't that stupid.

"My mama says I can't go in strangers houses.." You say as you look at him clearly looking for a place to hide.

Bruce nods as he sees your nervous deamor.

"Well I suppose I could bring him out to you." Bruce says and your eyes light up with excitement at the thought of seeing your dear friend agian.

And oh.... how bruce envies the old butler by how just the mention of him makes you smile.

Why was Alfred so important to you?

Bruce goes back in but Alfred is already on his way to the door finally remembering his favorite part of the week.

Bruce watches the interaction closely as you smile when Alfred gives you the money. And how sweetly you hug Alfred.

Bruce had initially thought you only came for the good money Alfred was giving you but the way you smiled was kind...and very adorable.

The whole interaction was definitely wholesome and bruce couldn't help but want to be apart of it...he so desperately wished someone would hug him as happily you hug Alfred...

Bruce being the jealous man he is started to be the one opening the door every Saturday at 1pm enjoying your happy smiles and childish jokes you would tell him as you waited for Alfred to come to the door.

And just like Alfred Bruce always made sure he'd never be busy on Saturday at 1pm because rain or sunshine you'd be at their door.

Eventually it was raining very hard and your mother not checking the weather app before you left had left you alone in the rain with no way to contact your mother.

You do your usual houses ending up at the manor at 1pm and despite the hash rain you still had that cute toothy smile on your face that they loved seeing.

"Hi Mr, Wayne!" You happily say...always so happy.

Bruce smiles you always call him Mr. Wayne even when he tells you not to. You must have very good manners or are just very forget he thinks to himself.

"Hello sweetheart." He says. He's called you sweetheart since the second time he had met you.

Now bruce wasn't that into nicknames but for you the nickname really matched. You were just too sweet.

After you do your usual talking with Alfred and bruce you turn to walk back in the rain.

"You can't possibly walk back in that rain, sweetheart." Bruce says his voice edged with worry and concern.

But you dismiss his concern with a shrug and a smile.

"I've walked in worse.. plus my mama is gonna pick me up soon!" You say happily giving them their two boxes of cookies and walking a way.

But they don't smile back this time when you yell. "Have a blessed day!" Like you always do.

No, their eyes circle around everything about you. About the rain. How harshly it's hitting your skin. How wet your hair is getting. How heavy your little red wagon must be for you as it continues filling up with water.

They watch as you slowly disappear down the long driveway their hearts still longing to help.

But altimately they decide that they can't do anything. Your not their kid. They can't offer you a ride because they know you'd never accept.

They don't even know the name of your mother let alone her number. How were they supposed to verify if your mother was really going to pick you up?

Or were you just going to walk home in the rain?

You'd surely get sick... and after after about five more minutes the two men come to the conclusion that.....fuck the rules you were definitely not going to be walking alone in the rain.

So with Alfred handing bruce the keys bruce quickly took off in his black Mercedes.

You continue walking down the street trying not to feel scared as the lightning strikes agian. And when a black and very nice car pulls up beside you you walk faster.

You knew how much your mother worried...the last thing she needed was for you to get kidnapped!

But the car kept up with your pace and the window rolled down and as much as you tried not to you couldn't help but turn your head to see who was driving the car.

You immediately stop walking as you see the driver.

"Hi Mr. Wayne!" You say smiling and bruce can't even register a real smile as he takes in how your soaking wet from head to toe. And he just knows that those old shoes are probably hurting your feet.

"Hey sweetheart......how about I give you a ride?" He says his voice pleading as he pulls the car to a complete stop.

You look at him and tilt your head and bruce has to stop himself from just getting out the car and picking you up and putting you in himself.

Your adorable confused motions give away your response. So bruce speaks up agian.

"Just one ride to your house." He says still pleading but in his mind you don't really have a choice you are going to let him give you a ride.

"You won't kidnap me right?" You question and instead of bruce feeling offend or angry at that he smiles and shakes his head. You were trying to be safe. But that wasn't exactly a good question to ask.

Atleast not to the richest man in gotham who didn't have to necessarily kidnap you to keep you.

Reaching over and open the passengers seat for you Bruce shows you a award winning smile; a smile that not even the paparazzi has caught him with in years.

"Of course not sweetheart....come on get in."

And plus it's not considered kidnapping when you legally adopt someone right?

Thanks for reading!

Likes Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[bookwormjust]

The Harmony of Chaos

(Azriel x mate reader)

The living room was a whirlwind of laughter, music, and chaos. Feyre, Nesta, and you had claimed the space for an impromptu karaoke night, the three of you singing your hearts out to some ridiculous, upbeat song. Feyre was laughing so hard she could barely hold the microphone, while Nesta, her usual cool demeanor gone, was twirling dramatically, trying to match the lyrics but completely losing track halfway through.

You stood in the middle, the self-proclaimed referee of this performance, belting out the song while trying to pull both sisters back into sync.

It was a rare moment—one where Feyre and Nesta’s often strained relationship was set aside. When you were with them, the tension that usually lingered between the Archeron sisters seemed to evaporate.

From their spot on the couch, the batboys watched the scene unfold, each of them leaning back with a quiet sort of contentment that spoke volumes. Cassian had his arms crossed, his grin wide and unrestrained as he watched Nesta. The way his eyes softened every time she laughed or rolled her eyes at your antics made it clear he was utterly smitten. He’d never seen her like this—relaxed, unguarded, and… happy.

Rhys leaned back against the armrest of the couch, his hand resting on his chin as he watched Feyre. His smile was softer, more private, but the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. To see Feyre so carefree, surrounded by people she loved, brought him a kind of peace he rarely allowed himself to feel.

And then there was Azriel. He sat quietly on the other end of the couch, his shadows subdued as his golden eyes followed your every move. There was no hiding the way he looked at you—his mate, his everything. The small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips was a rare sight, reserved for moments like this when his walls were down, and he could simply… be.

Rhys glanced at his brothers, his smile growing. “Looks like we’ve lucked out, haven’t we?” Cassian snorted, never taking his eyes off Nesta. “That’s one way to put it. I’d say the Mother decided to balance out our chaos with… them.” He gestured toward the three of you. “Balance,” Azriel murmured, his gaze still locked on you as you grabbed both Feyre and Nesta’s hands, forcing them into an uncoordinated dance.

“It’s more than that.” Rhys arched a brow at Azriel’s rare sentiment, but said nothing, choosing instead to let his brother have the moment. As the song ended in a flurry of laughter and mock bows, you turned toward the couch, grinning.

“Are you three just going to sit there, or are you going to join us?” Cassian immediately shot to his feet, his grin mischievous. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Feyre groaned, though she couldn’t hide her amusement as Cassian grabbed Nesta, spinning her in a ridiculous circle that earned him a sharp glare (and a laugh she tried to suppress). Rhys rose more gracefully, offering Feyre his hand with an exaggerated bow. “Shall we, my High Lady?” Azriel, however, remained seated, his eyes meeting yours with that quiet intensity you knew so well. You walked over to him, hands on your hips. “What about you?”

He shook his head, though his lips twitched. “I think I’ll just watch.” “Oh, no you don’t.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet despite his protests.

“This is a no-brooding zone tonight.”

He allowed himself to be dragged into the chaos, his shadows retreating as he found himself swept into the warmth of the moment. And as the night went on—filled with more music, laughter, and impromptu dances—you couldn’t help but feel it too. The warmth, the connection, the unspoken bond between all of you.

For once, everything felt right. Feyre and Nesta exchanged a rare, genuine smile, and you caught it out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t sure how it had happened, but somehow, you’d become the bridge between them—the glue that brought everyone together. And when you looked up at Azriel, his hand still in yours as he watched you with that quiet, unwavering love, you knew you’d found your place too.

[goshikisbaee]

Naruto Characters As Your Boyfriend Headcanons

[ Itachi, Kakashi, Obito, Madara ]

Content: Fluff

———

ITACHI UCHIHA

Loyal to a Fault

If Itachi loves you, he’s committed completely. His loyalty knows no bounds, and he will always prioritize your well-being.

Protective but Subtle

He won’t be overbearing, but you’ll notice how he always positions himself slightly in front of you in dangerous situations or keeps an eye on your surroundings.

Loves Quiet Moments

He cherishes peaceful moments together, like reading side by side, drinking tea, or just enjoying each other’s presence without the need for words.

Rare but Genuine Smiles

He doesn’t smile often, but when he does, it’s small, soft, and reserved just for you. Those moments are precious.

Enjoys Stroking Your Hair

When he’s particularly tired or feeling affectionate, he absentmindedly runs his fingers through your hair, finding comfort in the simple act.

Secretly Loves Physical Affection

He’s not overly expressive, but he enjoys small, intimate touches—a brush of fingers, a gentle squeeze of your hand, or resting his forehead against yours.

Softens Around You

While he maintains his stoic and composed demeanor around others, his voice becomes noticeably softer when he speaks to you.

Guilt Weighs on Him

There are nights when he can’t sleep, burdened by his past. If you reach for him, he’ll hold your hand tightly, as if grounding himself in the present.

Loves Watching You Sleep

Not in a creepy way—he just finds peace in seeing you safe and content, knowing that at least for now, everything is okay.

Will Die for You Without Hesitation

If there were ever a situation where you were in danger, Itachi wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself to keep you safe.

Rare Jealousy, But It’s There

He’s confident and trusting, but if someone is blatantly flirting with you, he’ll give them a cold, unreadable look that sends chills down their spine.

Soft “I Love You’s”

He doesn’t say it often, but when he does, it’s in the quiet of the night, whispered so gently it feels like a sacred promise.

Loves When You Take Care of Him

He won’t ask for it, but if you tend to his wounds, remind him to rest, or make him tea, he deeply appreciates it—even if all he says is a quiet “thank you.”

Remembers Every Detail About You

Your favorite food, childhood stories, the way you like your tea—Itachi remembers it all, no matter how small.

Would Teach You Self-Defence

He’d feel better knowing you can protect yourself, so he patiently trains you, correcting your form with a gentle touch.

Doesn’t Like Seeing You Cry

If you’re upset, he won’t rush you to stop crying. Instead, he’ll hold you and let you feel your emotions fully, whispering reassurances.

Prefers Meaningful Gifts

If he gives you something, it’ll have deep significance, like a family heirloom, a book he cherishes, or a handwritten letter.

His Love is Eternal

Even if something were to separate you, Itachi’s love wouldn’t fade. He’d carry you in his heart always, no matter where fate takes him.

Knows When Something’s Wrong

You can’t hide your emotions from him. Even if you say you’re fine, he’ll gently press, “What’s really on your mind?”

If He Could, He’d Choose a Simple Life with You

Despite his burdens, his deepest wish is to live a quiet life with you, free from war and duty—just peace, love, and the simple joys of being together.

KAKASHI HATAKE

Mysteriously Affectionate

Kakashi isn’t overly expressive, but when he does show affection, it’s in small, meaningful ways—like resting his forehead against yours or lightly squeezing your hand.

Loves Teasing You

He has a dry sense of humor and will playfully mess with you, whether it’s poking fun at your habits or dramatically declaring his love in a monotone voice just to see you flustered.

Protective Without Being Controlling

He trusts you completely, but if he senses danger, he’s at your side in an instant, ready to eliminate any threat without hesitation.

Loves Watching You Sleep

Not in a creepy way—he just finds peace in watching your steady breathing, knowing you’re safe and sound beside him.

Takes Forever to Open Up

It’s hard for him to let people in, so when he finally shares his past and vulnerabilities with you, it means he truly trusts and loves you.

Will Sacrifice Anything for You

If you were ever in danger, he wouldn’t think twice about putting himself in harm’s way to protect you, no matter the cost.

Adores Physical Touch in Private

In public, he’s composed and distant, but behind closed doors, he melts at your touch, leaning into your warmth like he’s been starved of affection for years.

Finds Comfort in Your Presence

Just sitting together, reading or enjoying the quiet, brings him peace. You don’t need to talk—your presence alone is enough for him.

Gives the Softest Kisses

When Kakashi kisses you, it’s slow and lingering, like he’s memorizing the feel of your lips in case he never gets to do it again.

Calls You Cute Nicknames in a Teasing Way

Expect names like “sweetheart,” “darling,” or even “my little weakness,” always said with that smirk hidden behind his mask.

Remembers Every Tiny Detail About You

Your favorite food, how you like your tea, even the way you furrow your brows when you’re focused—he notices everything.

Flustered When You Flirt Back

He loves teasing you, but if you catch him off guard with a bold compliment or a flirtatious remark, you might actually make the Copy Ninja blush.

Loves When You Run Your Fingers Through His Hair

He won’t ask for it, but if you absentmindedly play with his silver hair, he’ll close his eyes and relax completely under your touch.

Rare but Heartfelt “I Love You’s”

He doesn’t say it often, but when he does, it’s soft, sincere, and spoken like a promise he’ll keep forever.

Late-Night Talks Under the Stars

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he’ll take you on a walk, holding your hand and talking about life, the future, and the things he wishes he could have.

Jealous but Subtle

He won’t make a scene, but if another guy flirts with you, Kakashi will casually wrap an arm around your waist, making it clear that you’re his.

Leaves You Cute Notes

If he’s away on a mission, he’ll leave behind little handwritten notes, each one filled with affectionate words or inside jokes just for you.

Always Makes Sure You Feel Safe

Whether it’s walking on the side of the road closer to traffic or holding you a little tighter at night, Kakashi is always looking out for you.

Kisses Your Forehead A Lot

It’s his favorite way to show affection—gentle, lingering kisses on your forehead, especially when he thinks you need reassurance.

His Love is Forever

Kakashi has lost too many people in his life, so when he loves, he loves deeply. If he’s yours, he’s yours for life.

OBITO UCHIHA

Hopelessly Devoted to You

If Obito loves you, he loves you with everything he has. His devotion is unwavering, and he would go to the ends of the earth to protect you.

Possessive but Not Controlling

He’s not the type to dictate your actions, but he does get jealous easily. If someone gets too close, his Sharingan might activate out of pure instinct.

Overprotective to a Fault

Losing Rin broke him, so the thought of losing you terrifies him. He’ll shadow you even when you don’t realize it, always making sure you’re safe.

Loves to Tease You

He has a mischievous, almost childish side. Expect playful pokes, smug smirks, and sarcastic remarks just to see you flustered.

Masks His Feelings with Humour

He’s been through so much pain that he struggles to express deep emotions. Instead, he cracks jokes or brushes things off with a laugh to hide his vulnerability.

Soft for You and Only You

To the rest of the world, he might be ruthless and cold, but with you, he’s gentle—he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Cuddling is a Must

He’s touch-starved, and though he won’t outright admit it, he craves your warmth. He’ll cling to you like his life depends on it, especially on bad days.

Always Watching Over You

Even when he’s not physically there, he’s keeping an eye on you. Whether through Kamui or simple intuition, he always knows when you need him.

Late-Night Talks About the Past

When he finally opens up, it’s usually under the stars, his voice low and raw with emotion. He trusts you with the pain he’s never shared with anyone else.

Gets Easily Flustered by Your Affection

Compliment him unexpectedly, and you’ll catch him struggling to hide his blush. He’ll mumble something sarcastic, but inside, he’s melting.

Hates Seeing You Cry

If you ever break down, expect him to hold you close and whisper reassurances. He doesn’t always know what to say, but he’ll never leave your side.

Rough on the Outside, Soft on the Inside

He might act indifferent or tough, but the moment you’re hurt, he turns into the most caring and protective person in the world.

Worships the Ground You Walk On

He genuinely believes you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He looks at you like you hung the moon.

Forehead Kisses Are His Weakness

He adores giving you soft forehead kisses, especially when he’s feeling sentimental. It’s his way of saying “I love you” without words.

Stubborn and Jealous

He’ll never admit he’s jealous, but his actions give him away—crossed arms, cold glares, and suddenly pulling you closer.

Wants You to Be Happy More Than Anything

Even if he’s consumed by darkness, your happiness is his one light. He’ll do anything to see you smile.

Acts Tough But Needs Reassurance

Deep down, he fears you’ll leave him. He won’t say it outright, but he needs you to remind him that you love him and that you’re not going anywhere.

Low-Key a Drama King

He’ll dramatically complain if you ignore him for too long or joke about how “heartbroken” he is if you tease him.

Falling Asleep in His Arms Feels Safe

He holds you tightly, as if making sure you’re still there. Sometimes, he whispers your name in his sleep.

His Love is Eternal

Once Obito loves you, it’s forever. Even in another life, another world, his heart will always belong to you.

MADARA UCHIHA

Absolute Possessiveness

Madara sees you as his and his alone. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone else being too close to you and will make it clear that you belong to him.

Unwavering Loyalty

Once you have his heart, there’s no turning back. He would tear apart entire armies for you without hesitation.

Protective to the Extreme

He won’t just protect you; he’ll eliminate anything that even dares to be a threat. No one messes with what belongs to him.

Cold to Others, Warm to You

The world sees him as ruthless, but with you, there’s a softness he doesn’t show anyone else.

Intimidating but Affectionate

He might tower over you with his imposing presence, but when it’s just the two of you, his touches are surprisingly gentle.

Rare but Overwhelmingly Intense Affection

Madara isn’t one for public displays of affection, but when he does express love, it’s deep, passionate, and consuming.

Loves When You Challenge Him

He enjoys a partner with fire—someone who won’t back down easily. If you can argue with him and hold your ground, he’s even more intrigued.

He’s a Tease, but Only for You

He has a sharp wit and enjoys making sly remarks just to see your reaction. It’s rare, but when he does, it’s always amusing.

Forehead Touches Instead of Kisses

He’s not the most openly affectionate person, but resting his forehead against yours is his way of expressing deep emotion.

A Warrior’s Devotion

If he has to choose between you and war, he’ll hesitate—but ultimately, you are his greatest weakness.

Hates Seeing You in Pain

He doesn’t always know how to comfort you, but his protective nature intensifies whenever you’re upset.

Prefers Actions Over Words

Madara isn’t a man of sweet nothings. His love is shown through actions, whether that’s guarding you, bringing you something you need, or pulling you into his arms.

Expect to Be Called “Foolish” Often

It’s just his way of teasing you when you do something reckless or stubborn. He secretly finds it endearing.

Nighttime Talks About His Past

If you gain his trust, he might share fragments of his past, speaking in low, contemplative tones while holding you close.

A Terrifyingly Loyal Man

If you betray him, there’s no forgiveness. But if you stand by his side, he’ll fight the entire world for you.

Softest Spot for You and Only You

While he’s cold and calculating with others, you are the one person he lets his guard down around.

Hates Admitting His Feelings

He’ll grumble about it, but his actions betray how deeply he cares. If you call him out on it, he’ll roll his eyes and change the subject.

A Deep, Gravelly Voice Whispering in Your Ear

His voice alone can make your heart race, especially when he’s murmuring your name.

His Stare is Intense

Whether in battle or simply watching you across the room, his gaze is piercing and unreadable—but there’s a hidden tenderness in it when it’s just you.

Loving Madara is Like Loving a Storm

He is raw power, destruction, and ambition wrapped into one. But if you can handle the chaos, you’ll find that his love is just as fierce as his rage.

———

💋 💋 💋

[buubonita]

This is too messy but no worries i will try to explain the connections and I ADDED the "its complicated" label because i can and relationships can be and are soooo pretty complicated sometimes and your perspective of that person can always change like the weather,, or in fact, they have a dynamic that is difficult for me to explain personally.

Lets start nyao! oh boy this is LONG.

Nightmare & Dream: its complicated. They have mixed feelings all the time, there are times when they genuinely can't stand each other, but their family love remains intact, only sometimes, living together is difficult. I dont think Nightmare hates Dream genuinely, just for moments, and i am speaking more from someone who haves a twin.

I'm not saying that the situation is the same because my brother and I are not at war, lol, I'm saying that disagreeing and fighting with the person with whom you have shared memories and time since the cradle is a constant.

Dream & Blue & Ink: Found Family & friends. I just like to think that they, rather than a poly like fans insist, function more like an imperfect but still functioning family.

Dream & Ink: Friends/It's complicated. Dream and Ink have mainly disenchanted ideals, but they can coexist without resentment. I think they care about each other.

Ink & Error: enemies/frenemies. Self-explanatory.

Error, Geno & Fresh: family found. I love to think that the three of them have an inexplicable connection, something rooted in their codes. I know that Fresh is an outcode, but the body they posses, I like to think that it is a variant of Aftertale Sans (not Geno, the other Sans) <3

Blue, Sans & Fell: I love the idea my besties proposed that there are TWO Underswap Sans in the multiverse (Blueberry belongs to the Stars and Swap makes up the Sans and Fell group). They are good friends and super hilarious together <33

Reaper & Geno: Secret 3rd thing. I wont explain it here tho.

Fatal Error & Error: they hate each other to death.

Fresh and Lust: Secret 3rd option! I like to think that they actually get along really well. They go to disco nights together on Saturday nights fr.

Horror, Dust & Fell: besties. They can be besties okay, i loveeee the idea of Horror and Fell getting along with Dust as their main bond, point in common. If Fell could help Dust, he maybe could help Horror <33

Killer & Color: besties and QRP. I dont have much to say that someone hasn't already said , they are cute! Super adorable as well :3

Killer, Dust and Horror: Frienemies, its complicated. Their relationship It is quite turbulent and there are moments of horrible tension between them, the atmosphere in which they meet is not very good and does not help either, but they are companions in misfortune who try to move forward. I like to think that I could improve with the help of Color (who I forgot to put in the circle but the board already looks terrible!!!) Anyways MTT + Color is defo my thing <33

Dust & Reaper: Acquaintances. Reaper has seen Dust a lot during his endless encounters with The Player. He keeps tempting him to shake his hand like a new friend, hehe <33

Nightmare & Killer: Its complicated, enemies & secret 3rd thing. I've said it before, Killer and Nightmare's relationship is so weird, at least from my perspective, it has so much potential, so many nuances to explore that it's hard to classify what the hell they are. They don't even know what they are or what they have, they think they know each other but there are always details that escape them. Do they hate each other? Maybe. Do they need each other? Who knows. It's weird. They're fucking weird. And I love it, because Nightmare and Killer don't have the same dynamic or personal history that Nightmare and Horror and Dust do. One of my faves.

Color & Nightmare: Enemies. Its complicated. Rahhhh i have been CRAVING more Nightmare and Color content focused, how troubled Nigtjmare actions can be for Color and how it goes against his morals. Id say Color hates him, not totally, but definitely Nightmare "makes it very difficult to be able to help him" and thats a common point he haves with Dream.

Nightmare & Ccino: its complicated, secret 3rd thing aaand enemies. Ccino hates Nightmare for so many reasons, but the main one is the most wrong and absurd: he abandoned him.

Eldritch entity and totally tired mortal quth mundane life have a connection incomprehensible to the established parameters of society or regulations. My favorite.

Ccino @ everyone: is on the image but i think Ccino would know everyone at least because his café is a multiversal meeting point.

Epic & Cross: besties & QRP. They are so lovey, so cute, so beautiful, i love what they have so much.

Cross & Dream: Secret 3rd thing <33 they are very good friends and... :3c

Epic & Nightmare: Enemies & Acquaintances. Epic only knows about Nightmare through word of mouth, but he doesn't like what little he knows. I think he's secretly very resentful towards people who hurt the ones he loves (Cross, Color).

Epic & Dream: Acquaintances. I like to think that Dream is the only one who has seen Epic lose/destroy his body to the point where only his cursed eye remains intact. Something about out-of-body experiences he has suffered since he is a being of light residing in a vessel.

But in general, Epic does not interact and stays away from the apple twins because of their empathic abilities (an apple a day keeps the doctor...).

And thats it. I have a lot of other ideas that I left out the chart but imma write here hheehehe.

Like the fact that Dust and Epic could be friends (and their relationship is a bit rocky because Epic seems to treat Dust like a patient kjj and how that brings problems, as if Epic wanted to fix something of his own by helping and supporting him in his vocation as a doctor, yadda yadda)

Oooor like, fucking Reaper and the twins. Reaper seeing some of the contempt and rejection he himself suffers in his own universe??? That ALMOST inspires some pity, but I'd say it's more towards poor passive/past Nightmare than anything else.

Reaper and Dream should and are friends. I like the idea that Dream is one of the few who laughs at Reaper's shitty jokes (besides Geno) and feels bad about it because of his dark humor.

Nightmare hates Reaper becaaause, what a redundancy, what he personifies and not what he is and that is what prevents Reaper from feeling sorry for Nightmare despite having gone through similar but not at all identical situations <33

Or maybe Color and The Stars (or Color and Dream specially, please, yes?)

Prolly i am forgetting things but whatever this is long enough, i hope the artist doesn't minds ;;0;;

Again this is, like everything i say, my opinion <3

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[wonysugar]

g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cute dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

[vandal-flower]

Timeless Pining

Rin Itoshi x Reader.

Bring Your Plus One Event

Invitation Details: Rin Itoshi, is currently being flamed by the press for being #foreversingle. How to solve this, by inviting you, his childhood friend. Will the press get off his back, and will his friendship with you stay the same?

Warnings: Jealous Rin, Beef with Sae and Shidou. Sae and Shidou are besties.

"ITOSHI RIN FROM THE BLUE LOCK 11 HAS BEEN DECLARED TO BE #FOREVERSINGLE BY FANS"

Out of all the things Rin could have been accused for, this has to be the worst by far.

#RINWILLBEFOVEVERSINGLE.

It doesn't help that he has been compared to his brother and the intolerable Ryusei Shidou in the comment section.

saeitoshiontop < "I've seen Sae with more women than this man. Sae has only been seen with three so far, and one of them was his mom. 😶"

finaldae55 < "Don't tell me Shidou has more game than him 😭😭🤚"

myonlinefued12 < "Somebody get this man a girlfriend."

Someone replied < "I shall volunteer 🙋‍♀️"

Another replied < "Goodluck."

As much as he could ignore it, it did not help the fact that he was being deemed as the worst potential boyfriend, and an even worse potential husband in the soccer world.

And to be compared to his worst-excuse of an older brother, and the pink radioactive cockroach. Unacceptable.

Driven by his need for vengeance, he messages the one person who he trusts outside of the field.

Rin smiled to himself. His plan is sure to set in motion. Inviting someone like you will put everyone in their place regarding his relationship status and his ability to get a lover.

This might also be an opportunity to one up both his brother and the pink radioactive cockroach.

Rin was driving the car as you were getting dressed in the backseat. As promised, he got you a free outfit. It's amazing how he got all your measurements sizes as it fitted you well.

"Had I not known better Rinnie, I would have declined your offer and stayed home.", you joked, putting on your shoes.

"And watch my name go through the mud. Not a chance.", he gripped on the steering wheel as his mouth tasted bitter. "You don't like the thought of Shidou having more game than you?", you asked.

Had it not been for the fact he was on the road, he would have lunged at you. But since he cares for you so much and has self-respect, he doesn't.

"I hope you stumble and fall."

"I hope you catch me as I fall."

What was he going to do with you...

The paparazzi swarmed the both sides of the building, like it was a red carpet event. Cameras flashing as each vehicle carrying the invited guest and their plus one.

As Rin existed the driver's seat, he was approached by a familiar pest in his life.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Rinrin. Hashtag, Mister Forever single.", a devilish smile was etched across Shidou's face, "it's a surprise you actually came, I'd be embarrassed if I were you."

Rin didn't attempt to hide his scowl, but instead went to the backseat of the car. Opening the door, he took your hand and brought you out. Giving the keys to someone nearby, then interlocking your arm with his, walking past a baffled Shidou.

For a moment the paparazzi went quiet, before the flashing of cameras grew louder along with the commentators.

Rin couldn't help, but smile to himself. Putting Shidou in his place felt better than he thought, and the proud feeling in his chest was evident of that. He won't admit that you accompanying him also contributed to this.

You winced with all the flashing, and without wasting a moment, Rin placed his hand over your eyes. "I'll guide you into the building, just trust me." And without any thought, you do as you are told.

Shidou smirked. He looked back at Rin and you, "What a lovely couple, wonder if it's genuine?"

Rin kept to his promise, unlike his older brother. You had very little to worry about while at the party, other than the looks from Shidou, all is well.

"I didn't expect you to show face Rin.", snapping out of his thoughts he looks behind him. There stood the world's best midfielder. The Sae Itoshi. He couldn't ignore the feeling in his stomach, whether it was anxiety or anger, he didn't know. He just didn't want him of all people to be here.

Rin glares at his brother, before turning away. He is better than this, he reminds himself. Taking note of his silence, Sae continues. "I see you brought (Name), good choice. Had I known better, I would have taken them for myself."

Rin snapped his neck back, the deadliest glare on his face. Anyone would have turned to dust if looks could kill, but Sae isn't just anyone. "If you want a piece of advice, tell them how you feel before the night ends. It the only good you'll do tonight after this stunt.", before Rin could say anything, Sae leaves, disappearing in the crowd.

Worried, Rin looks over to you. There you were, a smile across your face, directed to Shidou. As you laugh, Shidou looks over to Rin, and smiles. In a daze, he walks up to you and leaves while holding your hand, dragging you outside f the building.

"Hey, what's wrong?", you whisper to him. His brother's words echoed in his head and the smile on Shidou's face could not erase itself from his mind. Taken you for himself? Not a chance.

You were one of the only people Rin could trust in his social circle, and he won't allow his brother, the demon, or anyone to take you away from him like that.

You stop what you're doing, and laugh to yourself, catching Rin off guard. "Shidou told me you would be jealous if I talked to him, and to think I didn't believe him. Not to mention Sae giving you 'the talk'."

He gave you a puzzled look before connecting the dots. It was all plan to get him to confess to you. Ever since childhood, he was protective of you, but never thought it as love, but instead as friendship. But now that he thinks about it...His brother was right.

"To be honest with you, I liked you since we were kids.", you began, leaning on the wall of the building. "Even with your tongue sticking out, I thought it kinda cute, but now I think it's kinda attractive.", you joked. Or at least you thought.

The redness of your cheeks and how you avoided his eyes betrayed you. Rin stared at you, surprised at your words. Reconsidering his brother's words, he fakes a cough to draw your attention to him. "I thought the way you introduced yourself to me the first time was odd, but I...liked it."

You perked up, "What else do you like?". He looked away, but the pink on his ears told you more than enough. You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer, before burying your head in his back.

"And I thought I was pining for you all this time. Turns out you had the same feelings for me. Don't worry Rinnie-poo, I love you too."

"You're insufferable."

"You love it."

He sighs to himself, before looking back at you.

"Of course I do."

Here ya go! Saw the new official art, and had to get to work. HAPPY VALENTINES 💝 💓 💖 💗!

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

[wholemeallbread]

oliver aiku knows exactly what caused you to block him on everything. everything was going so well, and he made sure to make it known that he only loves you and appreciates you, with his reputation of being a heartbreaker and all...

it's inevitable that he's got the occasional jealous ex here and there trying to ruin his love life. he'd get it if he was his old self, but he wants you to be his end game! you may not be deep into a fifteen year relationship and three year marriage yet, but he swears you're going to be the person he grows old with. why couldn't they have done it earlier when he was dating for fun rather than settling down?

but he guesses it's pretty obvious when you're the only partner that he's had who he posts about frequently, showing off gifts and dates that you go on for everyone to see. he's genuinely in love, no matter what other people say. he'll even put it on his official instagram because who is actually going to stop him? management? he thinks not.

oliver knows what he wants. if that's you, then blocking him isn't going to do anything. you clearly want each other, and he's willing to do anything to get you back. seems like his only option was via emails. he's gonna have to write it seriously, in case you actually don't "forgive" him.

to: youremail@.mail.com hey. not gonna lie, i'm desperate and i love you. i'm serious. please unblock me because whatever whoever said to you isnt true and i love you more than anything if you don't believe me, i swear to god i'll do anything to show you that i care, even if that means tattooing your name on my forehead. actually, that's an idea isn't it? or maybe spell out your name on each of my knuckles. by the way we're going on a date tomorrow. abroad. i've got your plane ticket so pack your bags and clear your schedule. and don't even assume i'm lying because i vividly remember you telling me your dream vacation exactly four months two weeks and five days ago. and you know im telling the truth from your boyfriend <3

he had a debate with himself for at least five minutes trying to decide if he should put a heart at the end? corny? cringe? eh, maybe.

[hana-recs]

going to throw my self off a cliff. and SOON!!!!

when u initially said you had something bitty for my birthday i was expecting like max 3k (my bad) but this is just. beyond anything i could’ve imagined. i laughed and i cried reading this which is just a testament to the skill of your writing — because it IS gorgeous and it is so very beautiful and i honestly don’t know how you do it. there were so many little details in there that were so cleverly done or they were so impactful or they just really FILLED the story with something UGHHHH u are truly just an incredible writer.

LIKE HELLO. first of the all the run reader had dating everyone from hhu !!!! she PULLS !!!!!!! especially vernon and cheol and wonwoo — i think that truly u illustrated the different relationships so well - nothing was cookie cutter, u could See the differences in dynamic + the differences in their problems + just all the different types of love that were experienced and yes. it made me very emotional. and not only that!! the other characters!!! mingyu and tzuyu have my whole heart!!!!! i loved their own small background story with their own piece of love and the reunion scene was. SO fucking cute.

wonwoo and reader were and will forever be everything. i think you built up all the relationships so well but theirs most of all, because it was a long time coming - everyone saw it coming - and it was both painful and also the best thing ever and i refuse to be normal about it!!!! BECAUSE???? the angst of their estrangement and the pain they both so obviously feel about it is so palpable because of the way you write!!!!

You do something that makes me think, oh, maybe she's into me? You'd seek me out for comfort, for help, for whatever, and I was there. I am there, like an idiot, hoping you'll just get it. Then you date people who are in proximity to me - my best friend, my team captain, the secretary of my AV club. Then you leave. You left, Y/N." “I know." You can't recognize the thickness in the back of your throat, the way you swallow around it as he fiddles with one of his rings. "You didn't even come say goodbye, Wonwoo. Hansol ripped my heart out and handed it to me, because of you, and you weren't even there." "I didn't want to see you cry." He mumbles, and you only shake your head.

^ LIKE THIS PART??? "i didn't want to see you cry" do you know how insane i am. do you even know. RGEHDHSHEHEH. u can literally feel wonwoo's emotions pouring out like ur SO good alta i'm literally going to start yelling.

I couldn't sleep most nights the first year that you were gone. I found myself still walking towards your apartment with Hansol. Hell, I've even hung out with Seungcheol, routinely, just to feel the influence of you. The essence of what you are, imprinted in the people you've graced with your presence."

^ HIM SEARCHING FOR HER IN ANY WAY HE CAN HAVE HER????? EVEN IN OTHER PEOPLE??????? altair. ALTAIR. i genuinely cannot do this all these fucking details are so insane and so beautiful and i don't know how you put them together like this at all but i'm SO grateful to ur mind.

and then the photo album. which was such a perfect detail!!!! she bakes for him and he takes photos of her like they're literally made for each other. it's soulmatism. the photo album was literally like the most amazing touch to an already incredible fic. i am a SUCKER for nostalgia and the general angst that comes with it and you write it so well that i actually feel like i need to do a backflip??? i actually feel like i'm going insane. again.

"What if you realize you don't want me?" "Oh, sweetheart. I'd be a fool not to want you. Let the sky fall the day I make that stupid decision."

^ i think this may be one of my favourite lines in the whole thing. like i genuinely made an audible squeak scream thing reading it for the first time. "id be a fool not to want you" what if i died it's so perfect and it's so THEM. after all the pining and all the Yearning and all the waiting!!

"I promise. It's your birthday, sweetheart. I'd bring down the stars if you asked."

i have nothing further to add this line speaks volumes all by itself. just know i giggled and kicked my feet.

Why not hang onto it, as long as he can? Why not take in every ounce of your light so long as you allow it, and reflect it right back to you? Why not be a mirror of your love, a beacon of the same hope you hold, a star in the sky that also tells you there is something to wish upon? (...)

^ and then there was this whole entire section at the end which just read like pure poetry. it was such a beautiful insight into wonwoo's character and even more of a perspective on his feelings and RGSHEHAHHEWKJE i can't even express myself properly anymore i'm literally going fucking crazy. sorry. alta your writing is always gorgeous and here especially it was just straight up otherworldly. yes i do feel like i ascended at the end of this fic. yes i cried multiple times (three to be exact). yes i will be grateful to you forever for this.

a few other quick details that i LOVED: the pink camellias!!!!! and the jimin/jk cameo made me giggle so bad; welcome to hana's! also made me giggle. omg yes and THE SNOOPY MENTION!! idk if we've talked about this before or if it's just pure coincidence but i fucking love snoopy. (same with baking actually - when i saw she was a baker i was so excited. again idk if that was on purpose or by coincidence but either way i love u omg).

alta i don't know how to make you understand exactly how grateful i am for you and for this and for your mind but. jesus fucking christ! i don't think i'll ever be able to say thank you enough. this fic is nearly 16k words of ur pure talent and hard work and it doesn't compute that u dedicated it to me and SHDHSHDGSH i truly think this is one of the nicest things that's ever happened to me for my birthday. it's a stupidly good piece of writing and like i said i truly don't know how you do it. it’s an honour to be able to read ur work 😭💗

SHDHSKSJ im so happy alta just. thank you!!!! SO much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love u endlessly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hanging by a moment 🍻 j.ww [m]

synopsis: it's been a few years since you've been home for your birthday, and wonwoo can't wait to see you...right? genre: estranged childhood friends to lovers au. fluff, angst, suggestive themes. pairing: photographer!jeon wonwoo x fem!baker!reader | side pairing: kim mingyu x chou tzuyu word count: 15.8k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol. food mentions. mentions of jealousy, breakups. wonwoo is a little bitter. pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) kissing. what to listen to: here is gone - the goo goo dolls ; over you - daughtry ; broken - lifehouse ; hanging by a moment - lifehouse ; long way home - 5 seconds of summer ; say yes - seventeen author's note: happiest birthday to my baby @wqnwoos ♡ i hope your birthday was full of wonderful memories and you had lots of good food, please continue staying healthy and i love you. [star dividers by @/cafekitsune here on tumblr!]

– LAST YEAR: GOYANGI SWEETS, HARLEM, NEW YORK.

"Since when do you celebrate Valentine's Day, Y/N?" Jeon Wonwoo's voice was staticky on the other end, and you rolled your eyes as you kept swiping icing on the red velvet cupcakes you'd been agonizing over for six days. Trying and dumping mixes, failed taste tests, a few burnt practice rounds all led up to this: you, up at two in the morning on FaceTime with Wonwoo, who was just now starting to finish up his work day.

You hadn't meant to move so far away, truly – or at least, not for this long. Your best friends were all back home, and the drastic time difference did work for some of them – but you rarely managed to catch Wonwoo. He would usually spend his time holed away in his bedroom or out with Kim Mingyu. However, since Mingyu moved in with his fiancée, Chou Tzuyu, three years ago – Wonwoo had the apartment to himself and you were his only company.

"Since when don't you, Jeon? No hot date for Desperation Day?"

"You watch too many movies, there's no such thing. Anyway, shouldn't you be sleeping? You open in, like, two hours." He was right, you did open in two hours.

There was just something comforting about hearing Wonwoo's voice so late in the night. It makes you feel warm, less alone.

And it's not like Wonwoo knew about your recent fight with your boyfriend.

It wasn't anything serious – just you telling him to get a fucking job, and him insisting that his job was rubbing your feet after a long day at work. It annoyed you so bad that you asked him to leave the apartment for the weekend. It's not that Wonwoo doesn't like Euijoo, but he certainly isn't his number one fan. You argue that you can't dislike someone you don't even know, but Wonwoo has made it clear that Euijoo is simply never going to be a part of his life if you're not present to make it happen. It's always been that way with Wonwoo, though. He quietly disapproved of most of the men you dated, even when you were back home – but he never made you feel bad about his perspective. He simply shared when you asked, and he didn't sugar coat it.

Before Euijoo, there was his clubmate, Hansol Chwe. Before Hansol, there was his teammate, Choi Seungcheol. Before Seungcheol, there was Mingyu. 

And every single one got a side-eyed glance, even his best friend.

Slowly, you stopped talking to Wonwoo about guys, because he always seemed to be right about you deserving more. To be frank, you weren’t too keen on not doing what you wanted to do, much less who. 

You and Wonwoo never breached that friendship line, and while you found solace in his irrevocable appreciation for you as a friend, you found it odd that around the time you began preparing for your relocation across the world, he floated away.

So much so that he hadn't even gone to the airport to say goodbye, or give you a hug. You hadn't seen Wonwoo in the weeks leading up to it after you told him you'd be leaving, and he always had an excuse as to why he couldn't call or hang out. You tried time and time again, only for him to eventually say he just didn't have time.

He did. You knew he did, because you saw him all over Mingyu and Tzuyu's Instagram stories. You saw him playing chess with Yoon Jeonghan. You saw him at the art museum with Xu Minghao.

You saw him soft launch a girl on his Instagram story the moment you boarded your plane. His story had been posted twenty minutes before, while you were getting your heart ripped out. You’d gone to New York with eyes full of tears, and not just because you were leaving behind everything you knew. 

Wonwoo was home, and you wouldn’t have him with you.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo was never…directly the reason behind your breakups – at least, to your understanding. You never toed the line of flirting with him and vice versa, you never made your friendship out to be something it wasn't.

You and Mingyu broke up because of school but stayed extremely close. You met his then-girlfriend,Tzuyu, six months into freshman year, and you were the first person Mingyu ever told that he wanted to marry her. You even helped Mingyu build a Pinterest wedding board when he would visit you and Wonwoo.

The others? Seungcheol made the mature decision and broke up with you because of jealousy issues on his part. Hansol broke up with you with an apology and nothing more, and you tried your best to take it in stride. However, taking things in stride is not your forte – which is how you ended up with Euijoo.

Hansol broke up with you at the airport the day you left for New York, the guilt taking over his features as your eyes widened and filled with tears. You had muttered that you understood, that it was fine – but the fourteen-hour flight from Seoul to New York was full of tears and sniffling. You're sure the woman next to you had been wondering if you were okay, but you're also almost positive that the fourteen-hour loop of 5SOS' Close As Strangers through your headphones spoke for itself.

You had met Euijoo at a bar a week after you landed in New York. Your apartment had long been ready and furnished, waiting for your arrival. You sullied it that same night by bringing him home, the aura of the apartment darkening the longer he stayed. And stayed, he did. It's like he had nowhere else to go, and you were far too nice about it, too. 

Hence, how he became your 'boyfriend' and how he 'moved in with you.' 

Bullshit; he went home to his mother's one-bedroom condo and picked up a dusty Playstation and a pillow he liked – that was his 'moving in.'

As for why Wonwoo doesn't like him, it's obvious – Euijoo is a loser. He has no goals, no sense of urgency, no whimsical nature – nothing like you. At least, that was what Wonwoo told you the first time you called him from New York…which was over six months since you left Seoul.

You wanted to believe there was a twinge of jealousy in Wonwoo’s voice when you told him about Euijoo. His brows furrowed, he sucked his teeth more times than you could count, and he refused to meet him when you offered to have him say hello.

You couldn't lie to yourself, you knew your relationship with Wonwoo was dwindling. Your calls were growing sparse, he didn’t tell you anything about his personal life, and you still hadn’t gone back home. To him, to your friends, to your parents. The two of you had grown up together, just slightly out of each other's circles. There were two or three people who were your 'friends of friends' that connected you, before Mingyu was the first official bridge between the two of you in the seventh grade. You went on to date Mingyu for three years during high school, before you wound up going to a different university than he did – but attended with Wonwoo, instead. You hated to admit it, but you knew that you clung to Wonwoo like gum did a shoe. You hid behind his broadening frame at fraternity parties, you would ask him over to your dorm (and later, your apartment) for game nights. You eventually started baking for him – cookies, cupcakes, the like. And then you met Seungcheol, on your way to Wonwoo's apartment. You slammed into him, painting his white t-shirt and shorts in pink icing – and you remembered stuttering over your words as you watched his brows furrow while he wiped icing off his stomach. He ended up clicking his tongue, nodding his head and shrugging.

"I guess you can call it avant garde, right?"

The two of you exchanged numbers, and you wound up being late to Wonwoo's place – but at that time, it didn't matter. Not when you scored a date with an older boy that had pouty lips and the thickest thighs you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Wonwoo had noticed you were giggly that night, but chose to brush it off when he walked behind you and saw you typing away to an unsaved number.

You and Seungcheol ended up dating for about a year, but the jealousy issues began before your relationship even started. He knew Wonwoo, and they were on the same soccer team – but something about the way Wonwoo spoke about you seemed to tick him off. No matter how often your lips were on his, your hands on his body, your body in his bed – Seungcheol's eyes always narrowed at the sight of Wonwoo floating around you for whatever reason, even if you initiated contact. 

You cheered at all his games, but Wonwoo was also there even if you wore one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You invited him to your bake sales, yet Wonwoo was always the one taste testing your recipes. You invited Seungcheol to your birthday dinner, and Wonwoo was naturally there.

Wonwoo recounting memories of you as a kid at dinner was what made Seungcheol make the decision to break up with you the following week. He paced around his apartment while you sat on his couch, rattling off all the ways that Wonwoo spoke about you that meant so much more than just a platonic love.

And you didn't comfort Seungcheol, or refute his thoughts. 

In fact, you denied them. You said there was no way Wonwoo saw you as anything more than his friend, you insisted that Wonwoo seeing you in the worst moments of your life was enough to make him feel icky about dating you.

It wasn't until Seungcheol crouched in front of you, holding your hands in his that you understood that he wasn't kidding. He told you that part of growing old together and being in love is seeing each other in those situations and still choosing to care and stay. He told you that Wonwoo holding your hair back as you threw up, Wonwoo knowing all your siblings' names and their favorite things, Wonwoo seeing you riddled with the flu and gross stomach bugs…

Wonwoo cared about you far more than he let on.

You left Seungcheol's apartment that night with a heavy heart and holding the stained white shirt from the first day you met him in your hand. It was still soaked in his cologne, and you remember crying yourself to sleep for two weeks straight.

Wonwoo had been there, and when you told him everything Seungcheol had said – he'd apologized.

He didn't deny anything. He didn't refute any of Seungcheol's feelings.

He apologized, for both making Seungcheol feel that way as well as being the straw that broke the camel's back. You hadn't known what to say, so you just offered to let him stay over and bake cookies with you.

He did, and the two of you gorged yourselves on white chocolate chip cookies while watching White Chicks. You cried again while he was there, and he wiped your tears and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He held you close as you pouted into his shirt, the soft scent of patchouli from his cologne settling into your skin as a blanket of comfort.

You also remember peering up at him through teary eyes, and his lips instinctively pressing to your hairline. His mumbled words never left your mind, either.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

You didn't date again for a bit after that, and Wonwoo made it a point to introduce you as his friend any time the two of you hung out. It made you feel odd, the way he forced the agenda that you were his friend and nothing more when you had no issue just going with the flow. You understood he didn't want a repeat of your relationship with Seungcheol, but it felt like he was forcing something more than just the label of your friendship.

People often asked if something had happened between the two of you — of which you always denied casually. If they asked Wonwoo, he would scoff, as if he were offended anyone would ever think you were more than just his friend. As if it was gross, or repulsive, to see you as a woman and not just the girl he grew up with. You met Hansol the next school year, a cheeky cinematography freshman that frequented your bake sales. Wonwoo met him there as well, and was the reason you and Hansol met formally. Apparently, Wonwoo and Hansol were both in the AV Club, where Wonwoo also met his first girlfriend: Lee Jaehee.

Lee Jaehee...  

She had also been quite the frequenter of your bake sales. She enjoyed your slutty brownies and the strawberry blondies you made, and the two of you had been so close to becoming friends when Wonwoo asked her out. He'd even asked you to bake something for her and you did it happily, free of charge. However, Wonwoo asking her out meant her finding out that you and him went back over two decades, and the same look that settled in Seungcheol's brows, settled in hers. It was painful, to see how she would tense at your presence at Wonwoo's soccer games, ones you'd always attended. It hurt your feelings to see her give you a quick smile before passing by your booths at the bake sales, not bothering to stop by for a nibble or a chat.

It pained you to know that Wonwoo missed your birthday dinner that year to spend the weekend with her, instead. You wound up going over to Seungcheol's apartment that night, and he comforted you as best as he could – by offering a drink and inviting his friends Jeonghan and Joshua over to entertain you. Despite it all, Seungcheol never really held any resentment towards you – but he did have zero problem telling you how blind you were.

You ignored it, too.

You didn’t like the odd feeling you got in your chest thinking about Wonwoo in any way that wasn’t platonic. You weren't stupid – Wonwoo was incredibly profound with a hint of goofy humor. He was smart, and tall…and handsome…God, he was so handsome, it made you want to bite your fist.

So the idea of his hands on you? His lips on yours, his bed being more than just a drunken sanctuary…

It was too much for you to handle. 

You started dating Hansol during the first semester of your senior year of college. He'd just become a sophomore, and everyone around him had been incredibly surprised that the senior sweetheart at the bake sales stopped making her incredibly soft peanut butter cookies. The reason? Hansol, and his allergy to peanuts.

No one said shit after that, only cooing at your boyfriend's blushy cheeks from your attention.

Your relationship with Hansol also came as a surprise to Wonwoo, and he found out in the strangest way – by walking into your apartment using his spare key and seeing the two of you getting frisky in the kitchen and covered in flour. You hadn't heard him come in, and didn't seem to sense his presence in the threshold of your kitchen. You don't know it, but Wonwoo has the image of you burned in his mind. The slope of your neck as Hansol kissed down it, the way your shirt was pushed up to reveal flour-covered handprints on your bare chest, the way your thighs were flexing around your boyfriend's waist… The sound of your whimper into Hansol's mouth.

He then made his presence known by coughing exaggeratedly, and you and Hansol almost slipped. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as Hansol yanked your shirt back into place, clearing his throat and greeting Wonwoo.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that there is no way eating flour out of each other's mouths is sexy." Wonwoo had come over to tell you that he and Jaehee broke up, and he did tell you – but on his way out of your apartment. You could barely hear him as the door closed, but you were also trying to finish what you and your boyfriend started in the kitchen — so you filed it to the back of your mind as you invited Hansol to join you in the shower.

It wasn't until after graduation that you decided to open a pastry shop. However, you were unsure that your at-home learning was enough to satisfy a gaggle of clientele – and decided to start applying to pastry schools. You’d already obtained a business degree, which made the idea only cement further in your head. Hansol had been incredibly supportive, even going as far as sending you applications and fee waivers while he was in class and you were driving around Seoul with Wonwoo looking for work for the time being.

Then you got a letter back from a pastry school in New York City, and Hansol was ecstatic. He paid for your flight and even took a week off school to go visit it with you. He wound up setting up meetings with realtors so you could get an apartment, and the two of you even went as far as looking at empty lease spaces where you could open a business.

You accepted the offer, and the school covered your flight back to Seoul and then back to New York City. Your parents covered your first year of rent at an apartment in SoHo, after you sent back videos of you spinning in the SeaGlass Carousel and having dinner at Shuka.

However, something changed when you went back to Seoul to pack your things. You also realized you had done all of this without even mentioning it to Wonwoo, who seemed slightly distant when you finally met him for dinner at his place after packing up your apartment. Mingyu and Tzuyu had also been there. Hansol also seemed distant for a few days, not bothering to answer your messages or calls. You showed up at his apartment, only for Seungkwan to answer the door with a knowing look and tell you he wasn't home. You remember scowling, and pushing past Seungkwan to see Hansol asleep in his bedroom, tucked away with a Star Wars blanket you'd bought him for his birthday. 

You picked a fight, and Hansol wasn’t having it — said he wasn’t in the right headspace to have this conversation, and asked to rain check it for a better time. You argued there was no better time than the present, and his swollen face (whether from tears or sleep, you were unsure) was enough to make you back off for the time being. He quietly asked you to join him in his bed, and you reluctantly kicked your shoes off and did just that.

He promised he still cared, and promised he still loved you, but it felt different, the way he held you. Like a last hurrah, like a ‘goodbye’ and not a ‘see you later.’ Like things were going to end and there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

You couldn't say you were surprised that Hansol broke up with you a month later, but you were certainly hurt. Wonwoo was also nowhere to be reached at this point, your calls going straight to voicemail and your texts going unread. You assumed he'd finally landed a gig, but it was still unlike him to not respond to you, of all people.

At least, you thought that was what had happened, until you saw his Instagram story.

You stopped wondering where he'd been after that.

It had been four years since then. You hadn't gone back to Seoul once, not even for Christmas or when your parents begged you back. You called for birthdays, you sent gifts out two months in advance. You sent photos of your shop, of your apartment, of you and Euijoo.

Your parents didn't really care about the ones Euijoo was in.

You finally opened your pastry shop in the middle of Harlem – two years after arriving in New York, tweaking your recipes to cater to the local clientele. Your shop was always full of customers and you loved what you did – but most of all, the people loved you. They loved seeing how easily you won people over, how you celebrated your accomplishments by putting even more effort into your business, how your employees cared about you and your shop.

You truly became an essential part of some people's lives – Ms. Julianna who came in every morning for a chocolate éclair; Mr. Cortéz came in every Saturday morning for a box of mixed empanadas and one butterscotch cupcake for his granddaughter, Elisa; Mrs. Stegenga sliding in every Tuesday for a strawberry tart and a cup of unsweetened whipped cream for her dog, Harley. 

Euijoo came in everyday as well, but not for a pastry – but to bug you. You'd kicked him out a few times, shoving a warm cinnamon twist into his mouth or an iced matcha with cheese foam into his hand – but he always floated back.

Which was odd, since he didn't have a car and it took thirty minutes to get from your apartment in SoHo to your shop in Harlem. Where he was getting the money for the taxi, or to load his Metrocard was beyond you – the son of a bitch didn't lift a finger.

Now, you're here. You're still at your shop, while Euijoo is likely sprawled out on your king-sized bed, with his outside clothes still on. You're grimacing to yourself as you smooth icing out on one of the cupcakes, your brow furrowed as you hear Wonwoo sigh.

"I miss you." And just as fast as it was said, he moved on.

"Since you're not going to sleep, how was your birthday? I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call, I've been slammed with projects. Tzuyu booked me for engagement photos, isn't that crazy?" Much like your friends missed out on your life, you missed out on theirs. Mingyu and Tzuyu opened a restaurant in the middle of Seoul, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu had their first daughter, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu got engaged, and you missed it. You wouldn't be surprised if you missed their wedding, too.

Wonwoo? He opened a photography studio. He did weddings, all sorts of parties, maternity shoots. He did boudoir shoots for a bit, before handing them over to his business partner, Saerom. She had been introduced to Wonwoo through a few contacts at your old university, and he took her on as an apprentice. She now accompanies him to many shoots and gigs, usually taking the reins if Wonwoo loses his patience or gets too overwhelmed.

You'd seen his photos displayed at a few galleries after you left for New York. Your mother went and took pictures of his exhibits, his shy smile hidden behind flutes of champagne. You congratulated him via text, only to receive a thumbs up in response and nothing more.

"Yeah, that's crazy. Listen, Woo, I'm gonna try and focus on this. I'll call you later, yeah?" You sighed, frustration evident in your voice. You watched as Wonwoo struggled not to roll his eyes as he tongued his cheek, before nodding.

"Sure thing. Get some rest."

He hung up before you could respond, and you looked at the FaceTime log. Eight missed calls from Wonwoo over the last few days, three missed calls from Tzuyu and two from Mingyu.

Your friends missed you, across the world. You were missing every precious moment of theirs.

And instead, you were here. Frosting cupcakes at almost three in the morning, while your do-nothing boyfriend enjoyed the warmth of your apartment. Frosting cupcakes, while your parents begged you to come home for a few days at the very least.

The money here was good. It always had been, and you'd built such a good connection with your clientele and you couldn't imagine abandoning it all because you were homesick.

But you missed home. You missed your mother's hearty soups, you missed your father serving you dinner instead of you serving Euijoo after a long day of doing that for strangers. You missed Tzuyu's light laughter, Mingyu's warm embraces…

Wonwoo. God, you missed Wonwoo.

You remember sending him a photo of your storefront as the sign was finalized, the baby blue calling to the eyes amongst the red brick.

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] look at it! goyangi sweets is officially in business! (read: 1:09PM)

Msg From: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] goyangi?

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] what the fuck are you doing awake? it's 3am in seoul [11/09] yeah, goyangi. i miss you (read: 1:10PM)

He hadn't answered after that.

Sighing, you clicked your tongue and leaned against your stainless steel counter. You grabbed a cupcake off the cooling rack, prying the warm dessert in half and smearing a bit of frosting on the inside, shoving it into your mouth. You closed your eyes as you chewed, letting your shoulders sag at the sweet treat that made all the stress worth it.

It was worth it, right? The money and the love from the locals, the feeling of physical success…it was enough. It was worth the lonely nights you yearned for 

You wiped your hands, moving to the front of the shop and dragging the metal divider down to block the view of outsiders. You weren't opening the shop today, no. You're going to go home, and kick Euijoo out of your bed and sleep.

That's all you need. Some sleep.

– SOPHOMORE YEAR: SEOUL HAWKS VS YONSEI EAGLES, SEMIFINALS.

"We have No. 08, Choi Seungcheol approaching the goal area for the freekick. Choi is the team captain for the SNU Hawks, and the only PreMed student on the team. He has also scored fifty-six percent of all game-winning goals this season, and we're hoping this kick gets them into the Championship bracket."

You were on the edge of your seat, your frame being swallowed by one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You were alone in the stands for the first time – Mingyu and Tzuyu were stuck at the concessions stand. Unfortunately, you were also the only person on this side of the field wearing an SNU jersey, and trying not to tweak out as you listened to Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin talk about your boyfriend over the PA.

"Oh, oh, looks like Choi is not taking the freekick after all?" Jimin's voice was clear, and the crowd collectively sighed as Seungcheol analyzed the players and shook his head.

You were barely able to sit down as you watched him jog over to his referee, making motions with his hands and arms when you saw Wonwoo crossing the field in a sprint. He slid next to Seungcheol, who pulled him closer into the circle and kept talking. Wonwoo's brows were furrowed as he nodded, breathing heavily before wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. "It seems Choi has nominated No.17, Jeon Wonwoo, to take the freekick instead. Jeon is the second in command, dedicating two years of his college career to this team. He's scored sixteen percent of the game-winning goals this season, opting to stay in the shadows." You didn't like that.

"Alright, alright…it seems we're lining up…Eagles are looking fine this year, aren't they?" "Jeon, that's inappropriate." "What, man? You're going to look at Kim Yugyeom and say I'm wrong?" "Jungkook, they can hear you."

"Hey, shit. Here's your soda." Tzuyu slides in next to you, and you don't unglue your eyes from the field as you reach and fumble for your drink. The straw poked your hand as Mingyu slid past you, making you scowl as you swatted his leg for him to sit down.

"Wonwoo's taking the kick? I thought it was going to be Cheol." Mingyu muttered, taking a bite from his hot dog. You nodded, watching as Wonwoo shook his head while still talking to Seungcheol. His hands were moving rapidly, likely explaining why Wonwoo didn't want to make the kick. Your boyfriend only gave Wonwoo a stern look, and you could make out the words falling from his lips.

"I believe in you. Kick the fucking ball."

You watched as the Eagles made their wall, their goalie shaking his legs out. Kwon Soonyoung, you remembered – you'd met him at a frat party at Yonsei a few weeks back. Seungcheol had gone with you, making friends with the enemy (more like scoping out his competition. Sneaky bitch.) "C'mon, Woo." You mumbled to yourself, grabbing Tzuyu's hand for support as she shoved a nacho into her mouth. You were too amped up to eat, this kick was the one that would settle the score – and it was all on Wonwoo.

You knew Seungcheol wouldn't put anyone he didn't trust on this sort of line. Yeah, he had an issue with how close you and Wonwoo were, but his team was important to him – he'd built this one on his own, handpicked, the best of the best. You trusted Seungcheol knew what he was doing, and that he wouldn't set up Wonwoo for failure…

…And he didn't, as you watched Wonwoo's kick bounce off the goalpost and straight into the net – just barely missing Soonyoung's fingertips.

"THE HAWKS ARE GOING TO THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

You cheered happily, the only one besides Mingyu and Tzuyu – and earned the nastiest of glares from Yonsei students as you ran down the steps of the bleachers. Seungcheol was jumping with his arms around Wonwoo and another player, Wen Junhui, when you pushed past them to get to your friend.

"Wonwoo! That was fucking amazing!"

He just shook his head, aiming the water bottle into his mouth as he gestured towards Seungcheol.

"That's all Cheol's idea. Mastermind behind it all." You whipped around to see your grinning boyfriend being shaken by Mingyu, trying to pry himself from your friend's embrace as you felt the cold splash of the water cooler being poured on Wonwoo. It went down your back as well, making you squeal as you jumped out of the way. Seungcheol reached his arm out to you, and you grabbed his hand as his teammates picked a soaked Wonwoo up and onto their shoulders.

"We'll meet you at the parking lot!" Mingyu yelled as he and Tzuyu trailed after them, and Seungcheol only gave a thumbs up. It was customary that the entire team went to dinner together, usually still in their stinky and sweaty jerseys but Seungcheol had long refused to let the team be represented that way. Everyone went home to get themselves together, then he footed the bill.

"Cheol, that was great! You're going to the championships!" Your smile was hurting your cheeks as he nodded, pulling you into his chest. He was sweaty and overwhelmingly warm, but you didn't care as he plucked the fabric of your wet shirt off your back in greeting.

"You know…you could've greeted me first." "Oh, not this again! Seungcheol, Wonwoo is just my friend." "I know he is, Y/N." Seungcheol said pointedly, but you felt scrutinized under his arched brow. You felt your lip jut out into a pout, and he sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"C'mon, you can come over to mine and change." He swept your hair back over your shoulders, his fingers brushing your neck. You frowned, your hands floating to his wrists as he shook his head.

"Tell me you love me, Cheol." "I love you, honey. Come on."

It wasn't a lie. Seungcheol did love you, but it'd slightly become less of a romantic love as the months pressed on. He couldn't get over the odd feeling in his stomach when he saw Wonwoo's soft gestures towards you, the way Wonwoo served your drinks at the parties you went to, the way Wonwoo behind a camera made you smile easily – far easier than necessary for someone that was just your friend.

He hated how you didn't see it, the way Wonwoo was in love with you. He could see it, and he knew it was the truth: Wonwoo would visibly tense at the sound of your name. Seungcheol remembers when Junhui asked him his plans last week, and how Wonwoo grimaced when Seungcheol said he was taking you on a date night.

He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feeling like his jealousy was festering in the pit of his stomach while you saw it as nothing more than just friendly banter. Granted – Wonwoo never flirted with you, never touched you inappropriately, he never crossed the line.

But the soft compliments he gave you? The gentle swipe of your hair off your face and the adjustment of your necklaces?

The way he calmly called your name, or sweetheart from across the room…

And you listened.

It wasn't your fault. Seungcheol knew it wasn't, and he felt like a fool to keep feeling so much resentment towards Wonwoo – especially when Wonwoo also made it strictly known that everything he felt was platonic.

It just didn't feel that way.

"I love you, Cheol." "I know, honey. Now…let's get dinner?"

– FIVE YEARS AGO: INCHEON AIRPORT TO LAGUARDIA, NEW YORK.

"I'm sorry."

You were standing in the middle of Incheon Airport, your duffle bag tucked over your shoulder when Hansol dropped the bomb.

"Sorry?" You whispered, your voice shaky as the reality of his words sank in.

It'd been a few days since you packed your last box and dropped it off at your parents' house. Hansol had gone with you, warmly greeting your parents and sitting in your living room, your mother showing him baby photos. You remember feeling your heart race at how Hansol traced your face in the pictures, before glancing up at you.

The wild beating in your chest hadn't been positive, and there was a glint of knowing in Hansol's eyes. The relationship was over, it was just a matter of who pulled the plug, and when. It had been a month or so since you settled everything in New York, and a month since either of you spoke about it. You had gone to his apartment and looked to pick a fight – but the fight never happened. He pulled you into him, and you had snuggled in his bed. You kissed, you watched movies…

But it was a goodbye and you denied it. In your heart, in your mind, you wanted to deny it. It was a good thing, wasn't it? To be in New York and know that Hansol had connections there? His sister lived there. If he wanted…if he wanted, he could come with you. Transfer to a university in New York, and it would be worth it. To study in a place he once called home, to breathe in the inspiration of the city that has been the background of hundreds of films, the breeding ground of insane creativity? And if not…what about you? Were you enough to want to move in with? Did he see a future with you where things were more than just college sweethearts who stayed over at each other's apartments more than four times a week? Did he understand who you were, to the depths – the need to love, because you were overflowing with it?

Did he see a future where you were more than just attached at the hip with Wonwoo?

The truth was, he did. He saw it all with you – the apartment, the marriage, hell, even a kid or two. He saw all of it, a ring and a career alongside you and to see all your hopes and aspirations grow into something tangible. He saw it.

You didn't.

"I know it's shitty of m-me to do this, especially n-now." He held back his tears, but his voice shook with bitten back sobs anyway. "But I can't. I c-can't do long distance."

Somehow, he knew you knew that wasn't the real reason. He knew, from the way the back of your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal, the grip on your duffle making the strap burrow into your hand. The way you bounced on your toes, once, twice – before nodding. A singular tear rolled down your face.

"It's okay. I understand." Your voice had been surprisingly steady as he hesitated, before reaching his arms out. You stepped into them, and somehow felt the weight off your shoulders as he hugged you tightly. "I'll miss you, Sol." "I miss you already, babe. Please call me when you land, okay? I'll be up, I swear."

You had called him when you landed. He'd arranged to have a car pick you up and take you to your new apartment. He finally cried on the phone, and you sobbed with him as you made your bed and settled in.

After six hours of reminiscing and crying on the phone, you hung up for what you thought would be the last time. He wished you good luck, and to call him whenever you wanted. And God, you wanted to.

But just like Wonwoo, you left it alone. Six months, not a single word.

– PRESENT: LAGUARDIA AIRPORT TO JEON WONWOO, HOME.

You looked into the empty space you used to call your second home. Gone were the calming periwinkle walls, the gold-detailed pastry cases. Gone were your cherry wood bar stools, the wicker recliners in the corner, the play areas for children. 

Your shop was gone, and you held the keys in your hand one last time.

"End of an era, huh? Where are you going to go now?" Mr. Cortéz was next to you, holding his granddaughter on his hip as you sighed.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to miss Harlem, but I know that…this isn't home." You said sheepishly, running a hand through your hair. He nodded, patting your shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"We're going to miss you here, mija. You will always have a place in Harlem with us." To say you wanted to cry was an understatement, but you just blinked the tears back as you allowed him and his granddaughter to envelope you into an embrace. "I left my cupcake recipe with your wife, so you can always make them for Elisa. I'm going to miss you."

"Be safe, okay? Don't give up on your dreams." He patted your back softly, and you held back a sniffle as your leasing agent gave you a soft smile. Goodbyes were never something you were good at, but you couldn't say anything more as you handed your keys back to the leasing agent and turned to your packed car. You grimaced at the sight of Euijoo's neck pillow still in your passenger seat, and you reached in through the window to grab it and shoved it in the trash.

You sighed, glancing up at your empty shop once more before slipping into the driver's seat, gripping the glittery wheel cover. You blinked once, twice, before shoving your key in the ignition and pulling out of your parking spot. 

You truly had no idea if this was the right decision. In your mind, you weren't sure.

But your heart?

You broke up with Euijoo a few months ago, and kicked him out of your apartment. You slowly started selling everything in the apartment, only packing your essentials and finding a wholesale thrift to take all your furniture from the pastry shop. You closed the shop officially a week ago, and did a mass bake sale to finish all your products. 

You went back and forth to Seoul without telling anyone, finding a cozy apartment in Gangnam and meeting with a leasing agent there to open a shop. Your parents long stopped asking you to come home, but you couldn't help and feel giddy as you walked around the city – gorging yourself on hot street food and buying furniture for your new apartment without interference.

Now? You just had to board your plane. You'd sold your car to Euijoo's brother, Hyunjin, and he was waiting at the airport to take it once you left. You had zero plans of telling anyone anything, and you'd be landing in Seoul the day before your birthday. You could catch up on any sleep, and then visit Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant. Maybe get dinner there, maybe catch up with the couple…

Maybe surprise Wonwoo.

Yeah, that sounds like the plan.

"Nice change of scenery, finally took a vacation?" Wonwoo's voice is once more staticky through FaceTime, and you've got him propped up in your new bathroom. You hadn't said anything about leaving New York yet, but you shrugged as you carefully lined your lips.

"Mhm, could say that. Finally get to do shit without Euijoo weighing me down. What are your plans tonight? Going to Gyu's?" You ask nonchalantly, but you can feel your hands trembling as you put down your lipliner. If Wonwoo notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Actually, I'm going to swing by the restaurant in a bit. We always call you for your birthday, you know, so it's funny you called me first." He nods lightly, but you know Wonwoo too well to think he's not even slightly suspicious. "Wanted to beat you to it, I guess. I feel alone here a bit, the resort is super nice but I'm so…ugh, I don't know. I might go out for a beer, see what kind of trouble I can get myself into." You wiggle your brows in the camera, and Wonwoo snorts. He swings his keys in front of him, shaking his head as he speaks.

"Not too much trouble, I hope. Have you talked to your parents yet? I know your mom misses you, you've been even more MIA since you and Euijoo broke up. I commend it, don't get me wrong, but still. Where the hell have you been?" "Healing." You shrug, smushing your cheek with the palm of your hand. Wonwoo doesn't look like he believes you, but you only give him a soft smile. He tries to bite his back, tonguing his cheek as he huffs. 

"You look happier. I like that." "I feel happier, Woo." It's not a lie. You feel so much lighter being back in Seoul, knowing that your family and friends are no more than a train ride away.

You pretend to check your watch, sucking your teeth.

"Shit, I'm going to miss my dinner reservation. Will you still call me when you get to the restaurant? I miss you guys." You pout, tucking your hair behind your ears as Wonwoo nods.

"Yeah, no worries. Be safe, and don't get too tipsy. I can't hold your hair when you throw up from all the way over here, you know." He scolds, making you giggle.

"Got it. I'll see you, yeah?" You nod, and he does the same.

"See you, sweetheart." The call goes dead as your heart registers the pet name, but you immediately rustle out of the bathroom to catch a taxi. You're wearing a black crew neck over a nice pair of jeans, paired with your favorite dirty Chucks in forest green. You grab your winter coat off the hook by the door, tugging it on and shoving your phone in your pocket. Checking the coat pockets for your wallet and keys, you find both in the left pocket and practically slam out of your apartment.

Not having been to Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant definitely proved navigating there to be difficult. You got out a block away from the actual spot, tugging a face mask over your face and pulling the hood of your coat over your hair. You take a deep breath, taking a step forward when you see a tall man step out of a taxi, a black coat covering broad shoulders. Thick frames sit on his nose, the lower half of his face covered by a black mask. You squint your eyes to see closer as he hands the driver a wad of cash, and the crinkle of his nose proves it's exactly who you're looking for.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You stay rooted in your spot as he walks coolly into the restaurant, holding the door open for a woman and her daughter to slip out. The daughter's eyes widen as he moves past them, her cheeks flushing as her mother rushes her off the sidewalk. What a funny thing, to see someone else experience the same things you do.

Over the year that you decided to leave New York, you spoke to Hansol and Seungcheol a lot – even after promising 'this is the last call,' you called them again and again. As it turns out, he too felt that Wonwoo was a bigger part of your life than he could ever be, but it didn't hit him until he found out Wonwoo had missed every single AV Club meeting in the two weeks following him finding out that the two of you were dating. Wonwoo didn't speak to Hansol directly for over a month, until Hansol confronted him and got the answers he was looking for.

Wonwoo had long been in love with you, and had gone over to your apartment initially to, yes, tell you he'd broken up with Jaehee; but he also went over there to confess to you. He'd brought over a bouquet of pink camellias, but left them on the porch in case he caught you at a bad time – and Hansol later found out he threw them away on his way out of your apartment complex.

At first, Hansol had nothing to say on the matter. You were his girlfriend — but he couldn’t lie to himself, the guilt of knowing Wonwoo had been in love with you for so long was starting to eat away at him. With a reluctant heart, he ended things; only for Wonwoo’s dumbass to not make a move and let you slip away to New York.

You'd also heard from Seungcheol and Hansol that he hadn't kept a girlfriend around for too long since – nothing to write home about. He didn't introduce any of them to anyone, just soft launched here and there on social media but mostly kept the "situationships" to himself. 

The only hope you had in your belly was that your plan would go, well, according to plan. You'd ordered a bouquet of flowers, pink camellias, to be delivered to Wonwoo at the restaurant after you arrived. After that…okay you didn't plan anything after that, but spontaneity is cool, right?

You wipe your palms on your coat, taking a deep breath as you walk towards the door. Yanking it open, you hear the doorbell alert the people inside – only to see a few people scattered around. Mingyu is wiping a glass down behind the bar and Tzuyu is sitting on a barstool next to Wonwoo, her left hand sitting atop her belly.

With a huge rock on her ring finger. "Welcome to Hana's! Have a seat anywhere, we'll be right with you!" Her voice is just as warm as ever, and you find yourself forcing your feet to move, ducking your head as you head towards the back of the restaurant. You see Mingyu lean over to grab a bottle off the wall, and you slide into one of the booths where you're out of sight but they're not.

You can hear them start to talk about you, Mingyu pouring Wonwoo a beer and sliding it across the bar.

"Has Y/N spoken to either of you?" Tzuyu asks, and Wonwoo clicks his tongue.

"Yeah, she called me earlier. It was a little odd, considering we always call her. But it's her birthday, I'm not going to badger her for answers. Plus, she's on vacation for once. Can't complain." He shrugs, and Mingyu laughs softly.

"Vacation? Where? Did she say?" "I didn't ask." Wonwoo replies, and Tzuyu snorts. "You'd be a horrible spy, Jeon. Here, I'm going to call her. She's gotten better at answering."  You watch Tzuyu grab her phone off the table, and quickly lower your ringer as far as it will go. She faces the phone towards all of them, and Wonwoo looks unamused as you feel your phone start vibrating in your hand. 

You deny the call, quickly texting her that you're driving to dinner and will call her when you get to the restaurant. A lie, and you can see her frown sadly next to Wonwoo. She puts her phone down, sliding off the bar stool – likely on her way to you.

"Gonna take this order, I'll be right back." She grabs the notepad off the bar, but the ringing of the doorbell grabs her attention. A delivery man with a huge bouquet of flowers slips in, holding the baby blue gift card in his hand.

"For Jeon Wonwoo? Is there a Jeon Wonwoo here?" Wonwoo's eyes go wide, before he clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. That's me, thank you. Does it say who they're from?" The delivery man hands him the card, bidding everyone a good night.

"Well?" Mingyu leans over as Wonwoo puts the flowers down on the bar and flips the card open. His eyes dart back and forth as he reads it, before handing it to Mingyu, who reads it out loud while Wonwoo thumbs the petals.

To Wonwoo,

Thank you for always being someone I can count on, even when I'm halfway across the world. Thank you for looking out for me, and for loving me more than you let on.

Always yours, Y/N.

P.S. Don't forget to call me back!

"Huh." Mingyu clicks his tongue, and Tzuyu grabs the card and scans it. She sighs, holding it to her chest.

"Camellias…" Wonwoo pouts, before his eyes narrow. "They're her favorite. It's like she's trying to tell me something." "Okay, mind reader. What could she possibly have to say that isn't already in the card?" Tzuyu waves it around, and you take it as your chance to slide out of the booth, hands in your pockets. You walk towards them quietly as Mingyu and Tzuyu begin to theorize, and neither of them look your way as you slide into the barstool diagonal to Wonwoo's.

"She probably wants to know what a girl's gotta do to get some service around here." You mumble, and Tzuyu flushes, about to apologize when you carefully slip your mask off.

"But I guess you can treat me, since it is my birthday." You shrug, Mingyu's eyes widening before he covers his face and sinks to the ground behind the bar. Tzuyu scoffs out a laugh, her eyes filling with tears as she pulls your hood off your head, her hands smoothing your hair down gently.

"You're home." She whispers, her belly getting in the way as she pulls you into her. You feel your eyes burn with tears as she buries her face in your hair, your hand moving to pat her back. "I am, I missed you guys." You murmur, and Mingyu hops over the bar to also crush you in his embrace. You can barely see out of your teary eyes, but you can see Wonwoo's cheeks flushed almost as pink as the flowers, the shock in his demeanor evident but he just clears his throat and looks away.

"How long are you here for? A week? A month? Please say a month, you have to meet our kids." Mingyu begs into your hair, and you can barely conjure words as Wonwoo stays silent. "Shit, I'll even buy you a new ticket back to New York if you stay for two months." You don't respond, waiting for the couple to pull away. You wiggle lightly, making them both move back as you wipe your eyes. "I'm here for good. I have a new place in Gangnam, and I'm opening a shop a few blocks from here. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you guys." You gesture towards Wonwoo as well, who only tongues his cheek before running the tips of his fingers around the rim of his beer. He nods, "Yeah. Welcome home, sweetheart." "You're not even going to hug me? Some friend you are." You try to joke, and Wonwoo scoffs,before reluctantly sliding off his stool. Tzuyu says something about getting you dinner, skirting out of the way. It seems Mingyu also gets the hint, moving away with the promise of a nice beer.

You're overwhelmed by the same patchouli scent on Wonwoo’s clothes, sweetened with notes of peach as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your own wrap around his shoulders, and you can feel your heart thundering in your chest as he breathes you in softly. He nestles his head next to yours, and his breath is warm against your ear as he speaks.

"I've missed you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, and you feel his arms tighten slightly, as if you're going to slip away. "We need to have a serious conversation, though, because I am mad at you."

You scoff slightly, trying to hide your tears as you bury your face in his neck. He rubs your back gently, before pulling away and wiping your eyes carefully. "Later." You only nod, watching Tzuyu carefully walk over with a bowl of hot tofu stew, and Mingyu slides a pint glass across the bar for you.

You spend the next three hours consoling an emotional Tzuyu, and telling Mingyu all about the delicious dishes you tried in New York. He jests that the restaurant would love a pastry chef if you're willing to share your recipes, and you only snort and turn him down softly. You tell them all about Euijoo, only earning scoffs and huffs from the couple as Wonwoo nurses his beer silently. 

You tell them about your shop in Harlem, and how it was actually a call with Wonwoo last year that made you realize that you were unhappy – which made his cheeks flush, but he remained quiet, only nodding along. Tzuyu squeezes his shoulder, and he just nibbles on his lip as you keep talking about all the regulars you had. You tell them about your SoHo apartment and how you often visited the Seaglass Carousel if you were feeling stressed. You promised to take them there someday, if they ever wanted to see what your life was like when you were gone.

They fill you in about their own lives – planning their wedding, having their second daughter in a few weeks. They talk about their oldest, Eunha, and how she's growing up to be just like Mingyu. You hold back tears as they eagerly talk about their budding family and their beautiful relationship, often sharing looks full of adoration and admiration for one another as they spoke. You listen carefully, and Tzuyu even asks if, since you're back, you'd like to be a bridesmaid.

You agree, when Mingyu finally brings out a thick slice of his infamous chocolate cake – one that actually got you into baking but you'd never admit it. At least, not to him.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N! We're so glad you're home, seriously. It's been so dull without you." Tzuyu cheers, allowing Mingyu to light the pink candle in the middle of the slice. You smile softly, tucking your hair behind your ears as they sing to you softly – Wonwoo mouthing along from his stool.

"Make a wish." Mingyu holds it up to you, and you can't help but realize that he's a father now. Tzuyu is a mother, and they have their whole lives figured out. They're so gentle, loving, passionate…and you're still trying to figure yourself out.

Ah, but comparison is the thief of joy.

You close your eyes, sighing before conjuring your wish in your mind. 

You don't notice when Wonwoo takes a quick photo, the flash hidden by Tzuyu's shoulder.

You blow out the candle quietly, opening your eyes to see the couple clapping softly. Tapping the plate, you clear your throat.

"Can I get this in a box? I have some things I need to sort out before the night ends."

Mingyu and Tzuyu share a look, before she glances over her shoulder. You nod as she looks back at you, and she smiles.

"Well, we'll see you more often, right? You have to meet Eunha, and the baby." 

"Absolutely." And you mean it. You mean it as Mingyu boxes up your slice of cake, sealing it into a brown paper bag for you. You inch closer and closer to Wonwoo as the goodbyes become extensive, before splaying your hand across his back. He glances over his shoulder, a jump in his brows as if to say, ready to go?

You bid Mingyu and Tzuyu a good night, and you promise them you'll even try to come by in the morning for Mingyu's mother's oxtail soup. Mingyu says he can't promise there will be any up by the time you come by, but you make Tzuyu promise to save you a bowl. She does.

"When did you sell the shop?" Wonwoo asks as the two of you step out into the street, the cold air making his breath visible as he speaks. "And why didn't you tell me?" You look at the flowers in his arms, how he holds them like a baby.

"I was worried you'd be upset that I gave up." You murmur as the two of you begin to walk seemingly with no direction, earning a sigh from Wonwoo.

“I’m upset that you didn’t even think to tell me anything. I’m supposed to be your friend. One of your best friends, if I’m not mistaken. You move across the world and suddenly that doesn’t matter anymore?”

“Wonwoo, it’s not like that. I just…I should know what I want out of life. I should know where my heart calls home, but it’s only been a person. I’m not sure if the place matters.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair as Wonwoo flags down a taxi.

“Your place or mine?” He mutters, opening the door for you to slide in.

“Yours.” You mumble back, giving the driver a quick smile as Wonwoo shuts the door. He rattles off his address — and it’s the same building as yours.

“…I live there, too.” You whisper, and he clicks his tongue.

“Good to know.” He shrugs, before reaching over and tugging your seat belt on. He clicks in place, choosing to stay silent as the taxi weaves through the busy roads. You want to say something, and you attempt to several times — but he just shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips as if to say wait.

And wait, you did.

You let him pay the taxi driver and help you out of the taxi. You let him lead you into the lobby, the security guard giving the both of you a curt nod as you duck into the elevator.

Wonwoo only lives a few doors down from you.

“Interesting.” You murmur to yourself. It’s like I’ll always find my way back to you.

He unlocked his door, holding it open for you to slip through. You did, silently toeing your shoes off in his foyer before stepping into his living room. Shrugging your coat off, you watch him flick the lights on.

Everything is so him. From stacked consoles on the side of his television, to a bookcase full of acoustic guitar records and a few thick books. A few of his cameras are strewn on his kitchen table, popped open and film exposed. His record player sits in front of his window, the blinds and curtains pushed open and the window slightly ajar to circulate the air. There is a mug on his coffee table, half full of what you assume to be green tea.

It smells like patchouli, peaches, and home.

His hand takes the bag from you, and he walks past you to place the flowers and the cake on his kitchen counter. He closes his eyes as he tugs his coat off, and you avert your eyes from his form-fitting shirt — opting to turn around and hang your coat on the rack by the door.

“Are you actually here for good? Or was that just something you said to appease Mingyu and Tzuyu?” He mutters, thumbing at the petals of the flowers once more. You sigh, crossing your arms as you sidle up next to him. Your hip bumps his as you lean on the counter, and his eyes avoid yours as you look up at him.

His shoulders are tense.

“I’m here for good, Wonwoo. I missed it here, I missed Mingyu and Tzuyu and I missed my parents.”

“What about me? Did you miss me?” 

His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear it, and you purposely bump your hip to his to garner his attention.

“Of course I missed you.” You whisper, a smile twitching at your lips as he nibbles on his lip.

“Then why didn’t you visit? Why did it take you six months to call me when you first moved? Why…Why did you date Euijoo?”

You feel your chest ache at his questions, the furrow in his brows making you push off the counter, straightening. Sighing, you rest your head on his bicep, the muscle tensing beneath your cheek.

“Sometimes we do things to fill a void, you know? Sometimes we hide from the things we know could be good for us, and look for something we think could be enough, so we won’t ruin or sully what we have already.” You shrug, and he looks down at you again.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I wish I would’ve realized how you felt about me before I left. I mean, I would’ve still gone but I would’ve visited more. I would’ve come back often, tried to make it work. I’m sorry.”

You peer up at him through your lashes, and he just shakes his head.

“My feelings here don’t matter, I’m talking about you.”

“You are a huge part of me, of my life.” You remind him, your hand ghosting over the small of his back as he huffs.

“So you abandoned your life in New York, your dream, for me?” Wonwoo sounds almost offended, and you scoff.

“I abandoned my life in New York because I missed home. I missed my parents, my friends. I miss talking to my friends when we’re all staying up late, not just when I am and I have to go to bed when the gab gets good. I…I missed walking around in the middle of the night with you, and getting heartburn from eating spicy noodles at two in the morning. Can’t I miss home, Wonwoo?”

He clicks his tongue, tapping his fingers on the counter. “I guess you can. But you said home for you is not a place, but a person.” 

“I did say that.”

He doesn’t say anything, picking at his nails silently before sighing.

“Did Hansol tell you about the flowers?” He murmurs, and you nod.

“You could’ve talked to me, especially between boyfriends. You had lots of chances, Seungcheol literally aired you out.” You say pointedly, and he rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t believe him, and I wasn’t going to ruin our friendship because I was feeling something you weren't.”

“And how do you know that I wasn’t?” You raise a brow, and he scoffs. He shoves his hands in his pockets, moving out of the kitchen to go sit on his couch. He leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes as you make your way over and perch on the edge of his mahogany coffee table.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday dinner that one year. I thought if I missed one, it’d be easier to start getting used to not seeing you. I was fully committed to getting over you, to moving on, even if I wasn’t happy with…fuck, I forgot her name.”

“Jaehee.”

“With Jaehee.” He ran his hand over his face, and you sigh.

“That was ages ago, Wonwoo. We move on.” You pat his knee, and he lifts his head to face you. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he takes a breath.

“I don’t want to move on, that’s the problem. You think I haven’t tried? Do you know how many relationships I’ve been in since you’ve left?”

“Mmh, I don’t. Do tell.” You nod, inching slightly closer, resting your elbows on your knees and clasping your hands together. He doesn’t look amused, running an exasperated hand through his hair and closing his eyes.

“I look for you everywhere, and I’ve never even had you. I can’t help but compare every single woman I’ve ever been with to you, Y/N. It’s driving me fucking insane, being in love with you.”

He’s hiding his face in his hands, and you feel your chest grow hot as you hum in response. You shift slightly, your knees bumping his and making him sigh.

“I mean, for years it's been like we're in this odd mesh of limerence and denial. You do something that makes me think, oh, maybe she's into me? You'd seek me out for comfort, for help, for whatever, and I was there. I am there, like an idiot, hoping you'll just get it. Then you date people who are in proximity to me – my best friend, my team captain, the secretary of my AV club. Then you leave. You left, Y/N." 

"I know." You can't recognize the thickness in the back of your throat, the way you swallow around it as he fiddles with one of his rings. "You didn't even come say goodbye, Wonwoo. Hansol ripped my heart out and handed it to me, because of you, and you weren't even there." "I didn't want to see you cry." He mumbles, and you only shake your head.

"You've seen me cry, you've seen me laugh. You've been the reason behind the tears and the laughter. You've seen me in all these weird spots in my life, you watched me date all these men. You were most of the reason as to why these men broke up with me. Yet, you never once thought that I was looking for you?" "Why would I ever give myself that much importance?" He scoffs, and you shrug. "Maybe because I give you that much importance, Wonwoo."

He sighs shakily, leaning back on the couch cushions and swallowing hard. "Did you know I got a few collections displayed in a museum after you left? Your parents went, did they send you photos?"

"Some. I liked the one of Tzuyu and Mingyu in the flower fields." He got up, skirting around your knees and walking up to the bookcase next to his TV. He scours the leather bound books, before a soft aha! falls from his lips, pulling out a green one. He flips it, and you realize it's a photo album.

He hands it to you, sitting back down on the couch. You open it tentatively, your fingers trembling as the photos come into view. They have that digital camera feel to them, a bit grainy and dated. The first photo was old, you could tell just from the image: it was you and Mingyu, sitting around a bonfire at a waterfall you would hang out at during the warmer months, one that went into a lake lined with boulders. You were dating here, and your nose had melted marshmallow swiped across it while Mingyu grinned in the corner of the photo.

"This is an old photo, Wonwoo." "They're all old, you haven't been around." He retorts, before flipping the page.

Another photo of you smiling as you laid out on the flat boulder by the edge of the lake, another of you on the handlebars of Mingyu's bike – you remember that one, it was Mingyu's seventeenth birthday. Another of you with Tzuyu solving a puzzle during one of Mingyu's visits, you and Hansol sharing a cup of lemonade during a snack run after one of Wonwoo's soccer games, you and Seungcheol swinging on a hammock in the park – where you often bumped into Wonwoo taking photos of birds, flowers, life.

There was photo after photo of you, in every moment of your life. There was a photo of the pink camellias he'd gotten for you, there was a photo of his student apartment packed up but one of your cardigans, bright red, stark against the cardboard boxes. This album, full of memories of you through his eyes – without a singular glimpse of Wonwoo, until the last photo.

It wasn't like the other photos – this was high definition, and you remember this photo being taken. You were wearing a pink t-shirt that had belonged to Wonwoo, and a necklace that Wonwoo had given to you for one of your birthdays. You were sitting on his couch, surrounded by Mingyu and Tzuyu. You had a bag of honey mustard pretzels that Wonwoo bought you in your lap, your smile shy and your fingers holding a napkin.

It was the day you finally told them you'd be leaving, just moments before.

And you remember how quietly he'd put his camera away after that, and your friends had settled uneasily around you. Wonwoo sat on his coffee table, eyes worried but masked with a soft smile – just like you were, now.

The album was empty after that, with only two or three pages left to complete it.

"This was an exhibit I arranged for the museum, but I never submitted it. I called it Hanging By A Moment, because that's what…" He takes a deep breath. "That's what this feels like. I feel like I'm just waiting for the moment to end, and I'm not sure in which direction I would prefer it to happen. Sometimes I would stay awake and wonder why I didn't go visit you, but I knew exactly why." You set the photo album on your lap, giving him a gentle look.

"You didn't want to see something that would break your heart." "I didn't want to see you happy with someone else, somewhere else." His voice is thick, and you move to speak but he shakes his head. 

"I didn't want to go somewhere and see you living so well without me, when I'm in shambles without you. I couldn't sleep most nights the first year that you were gone. I found myself still walking towards your apartment with Hansol. Hell, I've even hung out with Seungcheol, routinely, just to feel the influence of you. The essence of what you are, imprinted in the people you've graced with your presence." He's looking down at his hands, a singular tear rolling down his cheek. You feel like you can't breathe around the lump in your throat, as he glances up.

"I don't think I can handle this anymore. I need you to say nothing is ever going to happen between us, that the moment is over. I need you to end this, because if you don't, I never will."

You can't speak, but it doesn't matter – because he keeps going.

"I'd be perfectly content having you within arm's reach for the rest of my life, as long as you're happy. You could be across the world, hell, across the fucking universe and I'd never stop missing you, or yearning for you, or loving you. Befriending you all those years ago has got to be one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made, because I can't imagine a life without you. But loving you, being in love with you? Y/N, that has got to be the biggest grace I've ever been given by whatever God is out there. Nothing has ever been easier than loving you has been, but it is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. So, please. End this, I'm begging you." Your throat hurts from holding back your tears, a soft sob escaping your lips as you turn away. You let the tears run down your cheeks, using your hand to muffle your cries as he just lets his tears drip onto his jeans. You can see, through blurry eyes, the way he wants to reach for you, the way his hands clenched into fists before he shoves them under his thighs. 

It's silent for a moment, aside from shaky breathing and a few sniffles from Wonwoo. You wipe your eyes carefully, trembling hands gripping the edges of the album as you slide it onto the coffee table next to you. He grabs it, using it as an excuse to stand up and move around – Wonwoo always needed to do that after talking. Like he felt the need to exert all his feelings physically.

You also stand, his rug soft under your socked feet as he slides the album back in place. He doesn't turn back around, his hand lingering on the spine of the album as you round the coffee table. You're right behind him, seeing the buried tension in his back and shoulders as he feels your presence. You clear your throat as best as you can.

"I don't want the moment to end." He doesn't move, and you find yourself stepping in front of him, between the bookcase and his chest. He doesn't look at you, but allows your hands to find home on his chest. You smooth his shirt cautiously, before patting him gently.

He glances down.

"You're my home, Wonwoo." You say softly, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. Your hand moves to his jaw, your thumb gently tracing circles into his cheek. He has a bit of stubble, despite the cool scent of his aftershave. You can't help but let the sacred words slip from your lips as his eyes bore into yours.

"I love you." He looks away, a shaky sob from his lips making your heart ache as you rest your head on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you, so used to your physical affection in years past that it's just muscle memory at this point – despite his own reserved affections. You're surrounded by his scent, his warmth, him.

"I know it won't be easy. I've been gone for five years, and I've missed so much of your life. I know my apologies count for near nothing at this point, but you can't sincerely believe that I haven't yearned for you every step of my journey away." You're slightly muffled, feeling the metal of his necklace under his shirt as he holds you closer, tighter. He doesn't reply, so you keep going.

"I love you, Wonwoo. I'm sorry I didn't allow myself to feel it before, and I'm sorry that I've made you wait so long. I'll wait, as long as you need me to. As long as you want me to wait, even if I die waiting–" "I'd wait an eternity for you." He murmurs into your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"You shouldn't say that, Wonwoo." "But I did, and I will. I'd die waiting for you, if that's what it takes."

You sigh, pressing your forehead to his chest. "Are you still mad at me?" For the first time in years, you hear him laugh softly. Your arms tighten around his waist reflexively, a pout on your lips as you peer up at him. "I missed your laugh." He huffs, cheeks tinging pink as he avoids your gaze, carding his fingers through your hair. "I'm still mad at you. I bet you paid a shit load of money for a cab from the airport, didn't you? You could've just told me to come pick you up. I would've done it." "I wanted to surprise you." "Well…what about your apartment? I didn't even get to recommend this place, you probably went through some real estate guy–" "You're just grappling at things to be mad about, aren't you?" "No. I am mad." He grumbles, his lip jutted out in a pout as you smile up at him.

"You sure? Can't I change your mind, my good sir?" You wiggle your brows, and he scoffs, but you see the twitch of a smile on the corner of his lips. He tongues his cheek as your hands move to his face, making him look down at you. "I'm sorry, Wonwoo." He rolls his eyes, your hands squishing his cheeks together. "Prove it." You quirk a brow, "Prove…what?" "That you love me. Prove it." He shrugs, moving your hands off his face and letting them go at your sides. You scoff, gesturing to the air.

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough?" You cross your arms, a defiant look crossing your features as he sighs. His fingers are warm as they tuck a stray curl behind your ear, your skin prickling as he thumbs at your earlobe.  "Of course it's enough." He mumbles, "You'll always be enough. More, even. More than enough for me."

You think he mumbles I love you.

Your face grows hot as he scans it, eyes heavy with purpose and love. For the first time, you allow yourself to realize how nervous Wonwoo makes you – your heart racing in your chest as you lean closer to him. He doesn't back away, his hand now gently holding your jaw. His thumb rests on the corner of your lip, the weight so comforting. "Kiss me." You do just that, your lips crashing into his as he steadies your body. Your hands fist his shirt as he kisses you slowly, walking you back into the bookshelf. Your back hits it gently, his hands cupping your face softly as he pulls away. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed as your fingers circled his wrists. "I missed you so much, sweetheart." "I missed you too, Wonwoo."

He struggles to bite back his smile, your lips pressing a chaste kiss to his before peppering them all over his face. "You can't stay mad at me forever, you know." You speak through kisses, his nose scrunching as you press your lips to it.

"I can certainly try. You know I can hold a mean grudge." "Mingyu ate your leftovers once, Wonwoo. He literally cooked for you everyday of college, you need to let it go." "You're taking his side? Some friend you are." He scoffs, his hands pushing your hair off your shoulders. You wrap your arms around his waist, your chin in the center of his chest as you pout up at him.

"I flew all this way, I confessed my love…and I'm your friend?" He tongues his cheek, swallowing his laughter as he shakes his head. "Well, no. A friend wouldn't leave me for five years and then suddenly show back up–" "Wonwoo." " –And expect me to just forgive her. You could at least try and get in my good graces." You huff, "So you hate me." "No, no. I'm very much in love with you, actually. However, though love is merciful…I am not as much. You said you'd wait." "Wonwoo–" "Ah, ah. You said you'd wait. So you will." He shrugs, running his hand through your hair. He twirls a piece around his finger, "I know that you know how I feel about you, from other people's minds and mouths. I think it's best if I get to show you, truthfully and openly. Don't you?" You say nothing just yet, choosing to stare up at him with a hint of worry in your eyes. He glances down, the hand in your hair coming to gently hold your jaw. "What if you realize you don't want me?" "Oh, sweetheart. I'd be a fool not to want you. Let the sky fall the day I make that stupid decision."

You sigh, moving to rest your cheek on his chest. He hums, running his fingertips across your scalp. 

"It's not everyday you find a muse in someone the moment you meet them. Don't worry about me ever not wanting you, me ever not needing you." You don't reply, feeling your nose burn as your eyes fill with tears. He pats the back of your head, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Come, I need to take your picture. You need to fill the last few pages of that album."

And, you comply. You let him wipe your tears, pressing kisses to your eyelids as he sits you at his kitchen counter. He pulls out a gold candle from his kitchen drawer, sticking it in the cake slice from the restaurant and lighting it carefully. He pushes your hair back, and pulls the pendant of your necklace out to rest in the middle of your chest.

"Smile, sweetheart." He murmurs behind the camera, and you do. You smile, glossed lips swollen from the kisses, eyes full of stars as you stare at Wonwoo behind the flash. "Make a wish, quickly." You lean forward, closing your eyes when you see another flash behind your lids. Smiling to yourself, you blow the candle out, quickly taking it out of the cake slice. He offers a fork, and you lean on your elbows as he takes out a few bottles of soju.

"What'd you wish for?" He asks, unscrewing one of the lids off the bottles. You smirk around a bite of cake, shaking your head as he turns away to rummage for shot glasses.

"I'm not telling you, it won't come true." He scoffs, pulling out a set of shot glasses you'd given him during college. They have Snoopy and Woodstock doodled on the sides – he was always Woodstock, you were Snoopy.

"Oh, come on. Tell me, I'll make it come true." "What are you, a magician? Tell me what else I missed while I was gone." He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his lower lip as he slides the Snoopy glass over, filled to the brim with fresh soju. You take it carefully, and he raises a brow.

"Tell me your wish, Y/N." You huff, before reaching over to cheers your glass with his. You both knock back the liquor, and you scrunch your nose as you slide it back over to him. He fills it again, and you shift in your chair.

"If I tell you, you'll have to do it." "Stop being so ominous, I hate it when you do that."

He slides the glass back over, only half full as he sidles up next to you. Your hand instinctively wraps around his bicep, and you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"Promise me you'll make it come true, Wonwoo." "I promise. It's your birthday, sweetheart. I'd bring down the stars if you asked."

– SIX WEEKS LATER: GOYANGI'S HOME, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA.

Wonwoo had done exactly as you asked on your birthday – he kept his word, and tried his best to make your birthday wishes come true. Granted, you underestimated him: he would get both done within the six weeks it took to get your shop open.

After the two of you finished off the thick slice of chocolate cake, Wonwoo asked you to spend the night. You did, and a part of you held back tears as he held you in his arms – mumbling in his sleep. Mumbling about how he loved you, how long he'd waited…

How scared he was you'd slip away, like sand in an hourglass timer.

You'd spent the last month and a half glued at the hip. He took you to visit your parents early in the mornings, who bawled uncontrollably and demanded you'd stay all day. Wonwoo hadn't minded, and he stayed with you for dinner several times – and took many odd photos. He never showed you any of them, but he couldn't let you out of his sight, either.

He accompanied you to all your furniture shopping for the shop, he helped choose the paint, he even went as far as taking your website photos. Which, of course, included photos of you – in the kitchen, in your uniform, making a mess of flour and powdered sugar.

Powdered sugar that he kissed off your lips.

Because neither of you could go more than an hour without seeing each other, you practically moved into his apartment. You were spending almost every night there despite your own bed calling your name like a child does its mother. Wonwoo hadn't been kidding about making you wait, either. He let you kiss him, he told you he loved you, yes – but the dates were casual outings. Dinner, picnics, movies. You had a few game nights, and even went over to Hana's for drinks. You'd decided you were each other's plus ones for Mingyu and Tzuyu's wedding, and submitted such information on your RSVP placards.

You spent time together in copious amounts, something you couldn't ever find a fill of. You made him pastry after pastry, coffee cup after coffee cup, back massage after back massage to ease the tension in his shoulders. He gave you a silver necklace, a small letter W hanging from the center. 

You wore it with pride. He didn't ask you to be his girlfriend, and he didn't let you ask any questions about it, either.

Instead, he made your birthday wishes come true – he asked the Museum of Arts if they still needed an exhibit for the season. When they said yes, he submitted his Hanging by a Moment gallery – with a few new additions. You'd loved it, and had proudly gone to the museum at least twice a week to see it.

Now?

You're both standing in your unopened shop, showing your parents everything. The walls are a muted terracotta with a few tangerine accents, to match the feel of the digital photos of your life through Wonwoo's eyes. You asked him to make copies of the photos for you as well, framing them in thick, gold frames.

All but one, that sat in the middle of them all on the wall. "And this is the final installment." He spoke to your parents softly, before gesturing to a photo split in the middle. One half was you, dressed in all black with the silver necklace he'd given you three weeks ago, and holding Wonwoo's digital camera up to your face. Your smile was peeking out from behind your hand, directed right at him.

And the other half was him. The only photo of him in the entire exhibit – of him holding his digital camera vertically against his face, slightly messy hair and a beige t-shirt that was two sizes too big for him but you loved anyway. You'd taken this photo at a street food stand, and he remembers how softly you kissed his cheek right after.

You stood next to him with a soft smile on your face as your father perused the photos, his eyes watery as he looked at the ones of you in college. Your smile, so young and carefree. Your eyes, full of the same shimmer and light you have now – but now, it's brighter. You seem lighter.

Happier.

You seem like you're home.

"What do you think?" You ask gently, wrapping your hand around Wonwoo's arm. He instinctively covers your hand with his, and your father nods.

"I think you're in love." He shrugs, and Wonwoo's cheeks flush almost instantly. You chuckle, squeezing your hand around Wonwoo's arm before patting his chest.

"I've got some new pastries in the oven, shall we? I'm trying a new recipe." You wiggle your brows at your parents, who both smile as you extend your hands to them. They take them gingerly, letting you guide them into the kitchen. You look over your shoulder, sending Wonwoo a quick wink as you slip inside with them.

And, Wonwoo knows.

He knows you love him, as he stands in this shop – named for him, by you. Walls covered in you, by him. He knows you love him as you smile warmly at him, your eyes sparkling in a way he'd only ever seen with him – never with Seungcheol, or Hansol, or Mingyu.

Just him.

So, what does it matter? The moment, why does it matter? Why not hang onto it, as long as he can? Why not take in every ounce of your light so long as you allow it, and reflect it right back to you? Why not be a mirror of your love, a beacon of the same hope you hold, a star in the sky that also tells you there is something to wish upon?

Why waste it, when he can savor it – the way you look at him, the way you kiss him, touch him, the way you make him feel? How he's gone absolutely mad just looking at you in the mornings, slowly waking up by his side, burying your face into his bare chest? Why waste the moment when he can capture it – your smiles, your tears, the way you cover your face shyly when he compliments you.

Why not live in the moment – the feeling of your lips against his, the way you claw his shirt off, the way you whimper beneath him while fully clothed and untouched? Why not live in the moment, where he gets to hear you laugh like no one's listening, watch you dance like there is no tomorrow? Why not, when you ask him to take the long way home and roll the windows down, singing along to his playlist and feeling the air whip your hair around until your face is frosty from the wind.

Why not live in this moment – when you're so irrevocably in love with him, and he doesn't have to ever question it because you don't even need to tell him? Where you've related him to a cat that always finds its way back home, where you're supposedly the home and you are – but you are also the cat that finds her way home all on her own?

Why not? "Wonwoo? Are you listening?" "Huh? Sorry." He rubs his neck sheepishly, before noticing he's sitting at the bar of your shop, a dulce de leche éclair sitting on a plate in front of him. Your parents are in the corner, holding their own pastries and analyzing the photos once more. You're leaning your back on the bar next to him, your elbows holding you up as you reach over and gently carding your fingers through his hair.

"I said, I love you." "Now, why does it sound like you're scheming? Tell me what you really said." "It is, promise." You chuckle, your hand coming to pinch his cheek softly. He frowns, only making you coo up at him as you brush your lips to his. He glances up quickly, seeing your parents still enthralled by the photo of you and Mingyu at the waterfalls all those years ago. He looks back down, seeing you absently scanning his face as your thumb continues to rub circles into his face.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, before your father turns around and clears his throat. You look over your shoulder lazily, and your father has the pastry plates in his hand. "Your mother and I are going to start heading out now, honey. We've got a long drive back, and I'm sure you want to clean up a bit around here before your big opening tomorrow." "You're right, Dad. Thank you for coming, I'm glad you two could be the first to see it." Your voice is so warm, he can feel all the stress from his days just melting right off him as you walk your parents to the front. He follows suit, lingering behind as you and your parents say your goodbyes. He interjects his own, enveloping both of your parents in a hug before pulling away. You both wave as they get into their car, your mother waving back as they pull into the street and all the way down the road, before their car turns out of sight.

You turn around, your arms crossed as you look up.

"Goyangi's Home. What a name, isn't it?" You sigh, before glancing over at Wonwoo. He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your giggle is like music to his ears as your hands rest on his chest, your lip tucked beneath your teeth as you look up at him.

"Well, you're home, aren't you?" "Aren't you, Wonwoo?"

"I am. I love you, you know."

He feels his chest ache in the best way possible, his heart beating twice as fast as you wrinkle your nose at him.

"I know. I love you, honey." So it's fine. It's fine, as Wonwoo lets you kiss his lips once, twice, three times before you slip back into the shop. It's fine, as Wonwoo walks in behind you, his fingers locking the front door so no one mistakes the shop as open. It's fine, as you hand him a broom and make him sweep the shop while you roll out the dough in the back, your hands coated in flour when he comes to steal a kiss.

Or two, or three – until you're pushed against the industrial fridge, his hands wrapped around your thighs as yours tangle in his hair. He doesn't care about the flour. He doesn't care that you'll both be here late to roll out the stupid dough, he doesn't care as long as you're with him.

He doesn't care about the time differences anymore. The kilometers of distance, the aches of missing you. He doesn't care, and he'd do it ten times over just to be worthy of you. 

He doesn't care about how pathetic he might sound as he kisses down your neck, begging you to be his girlfriend, begging you to never, ever leave him again.

He doesn't care about all the painful moments he used to hang onto, because you are the best moment to ever capture.

He cares when you promise that you'll never leave him again, your lips soft against the shell of his ear. He cares when you say yes, you'll be his girlfriend. You'll be anything he wants, for as long as he wants it. So yeah, he'll live in this moment. He'll keep it, hold it, cherish it forever as more whispers float off your lips to one another. I love you.

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[chanranghaeys]

☀️ here, there, and everywhere

This journal belongs to: me. If found, please contact this number. (And please do not read it—unless you want to read the ramblings of a person who fails to deny their feelings for a certain someone.)

pairing: lee chan x gn!reader word count: 2.5k+ genre: fluff for (belated) happy chan day and carat day! rating: pg tags: college friends, they grew up, time skips between entries, mutual pining, happy (open) ending, stream of consciousness, excessive italics, please read the whole thing as if it were a private journal of sorts warnings: mentions of alcohol, death of a family member (brief mention, off the page)

a/n: this is a self-indulgent piece on my ultimate crush and the love of my (kpop) life, lee chan. i can’t keep denying you, so here we go. in an alternate universe, you would’ve been my best friend that i loved to hate and hated to love, until one of us finally gave in to our feelings and hoped for the best. happy birthday chan! you’ve given me nothing but color in my life ever since i became a carat. i wish you all the beautiful flower paths ahead ✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Dear Chan,

You must think me pathetic if you ever found one of these letters.

It sucks…this little crush I’ve discovered I have on you. And I am only saying this ONCE on the page. And to no one else. Because when you talk about a crush, it only grows, right?

So I'll just talk about it to myself.

I hate crushes because they are so unexplainable. They’re unexplainable feelings that latch on to you so hard and never let you go until you fumble and mess up and just make an utter fool of yourself.

I first found out I had a crush on you last month.

I had long admired you from afar through your dancing. You’re beautiful when you dance—in the zone, focused, bursting with energy. I’m genuinely jealous of how you can do the things you do with your body, how you tell such beautiful stories with every little move you make.

But it was that time during a production runthrough—the simultaneous evaluations—where you made that one mistake almost fatal to your team on that one sequence you spent weeks perfecting.

Yet there you were onstage, just laughing it off. So instead of your team being anxious or frustrated, they just laughed along with you.

It turned out to be the best performance of the night, your laughing played off as banter and camaraderie by the guest audiences.

That’s when I first felt the intense grip of this thing called feelings on my poor little heart.

Absolutely disgusting.

Anyway.

This “writing letters I'll never send to you” is all just for me to really process all these feelings I’ve discovered for you. No other reason aside from that. In my head, this is a form of acknowledgment so I can easily get over whatever this is.

So yeah. Feelings. A crush. On you—someone younger than me—of all people. I can’t believe it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We were crossing the street when you suddenly held my hand. You did that to pull me to the other side of the road farther from the direction of the car.

“Be careful,” you said.

I shouldn’t feel special. Maybe you do this with everyone else anyway.

I hate how I can’t help but feel just a teensy bit special. Indulge me on this.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I hate how you’re so stubborn. I hate how you’re so passionate. I hate how you’re such an amazing dancer. If I didn’t know better, I’d be so goddamn jealous of you.

Well, maybe I already am.

But above all that, I feel so in awe of you.

I hate how amazing you are in everything you do.

I hate how you’re actually inspiring me to be a better person. Little by little.

You’re inspiring me to be more diligent, to work harder, to believe in myself and my artistry way more than I ever thought I could—even through the infinite doubts.

Because that’s what you do to me.

“You can do it!” you said. “I’ll be right in the audience cheering for you, too. Because you’re my number one supporter, I’ll also be your number one supporter.”

I hate how you’re right. Why do you always have to be right?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I don’t understand why you would do such things to me and for me.

It was such a simple and offhand remark.

“Is that a new necklace?” you asked.

“Nah,” I replied.

“It’s pretty. I don’t usually see you wearing that necklace. Where's the other one? The silver one with the daisy pendants?”

It was only because that one—my favorite one—broke and I didn’t have the time to have it fixed yet. Too busy with org scheds.

And you know what you said?

“Give it to me. I’ll have it fixed.”

What in the actual—

You didn’t have to do it, Chan.

Yet there I was, handing over my most prized possession...to you, my...friend.

You better give it back to me fixed, or else.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We’re in the library pretending to study for this godforsaken exam. I’ve practically given up on it.

(lol just kidding I can’t do that)

So we’re on a break. You’re sitting right in front of me, writing something down in your own notebook. Good thing the tables are a bit wide. I really wish that you won’t be able to see your name plastered on top of this page.

I never pegged you for someone who writes. In my head, I will take this as my own influence over you after my constant stories of how journaling and writing is such a simple thing that can heal you so easily and thoroughly.

Maybe my influence, and Seungkwan’s as well. At least he’s a good influence.

It was so funny, even, how you made a huge show of showcasing your little black notebook. When you opened it, I saw that it was already bookmarked at the halfway point.

So you do write. You have been writing.

Stop making my crush on you grow. Stop.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You were so drunk last night. I don’t think you’ll remember any of it today.

But I remember everything crystal clear.

You’ve had how many bottles of soju at that point. You slung your arm around me and leaned your head on my shoulder. Never mind how fast my heart was beating at that point. Whether from alcohol, or you know what, I will never know.

You told me, “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Your best friend.

A friend.

A stake to the heart would’ve hurt less, in my opinion.

But then again, better a best friend than nothing at all.

I wish I was as drunk as you were last night. Maybe I could forget that one sentence and just carry on living as if this thing between us is nothing.

As if us holding hands the entire night last night under the guise of you “needing a steady hand to hold so you wouldn't fall because you were drunk as hell” is no indication of any thing.

Whatever this thing is.

Sincerely,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I promised not to write anymore—believe me I tried. We’re best friends, right?

Best friends meet up for breakfast before going separate ways for the day, right?

Best friends make sure to ask if you’re home at the end of every day, right?

Best friends have random snacks or your go-to pick-me-up drink delivered to you when they know you’re having a terrible day, right?

Best friends do that, right?

Even if they’re both in separate relationships already?

I’m so confused. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t make it make sense.

Maybe it’s just me and these lingering and unresolved feelings. I hate them.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Thank you for meeting me as soon as I called. Thank you for holding me as my world fell apart. Thank you for comforting me even as my tears fell. Thank you for being reliable. Thank you for giving me my comfort ice cream. Thank you for helping me through this breakup even though I know you’re on the brink of your own.

Thank you for being a friend—my friend.

Thank you for always catching me whenever I fall.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m sorry about the breakup…or am I?

I’m not too sad about it, I’m sorry. I always knew they were a bit off for you. But I hope I’ve been the right kind of friend that you need right now.

Or however you need me. I'll be here for you, the same way you were for me. You know that right?

I know you held back a few tears when we were at the cafe earlier. You loved them, for sure. I know how far you go for love—that's how true your love is.

But you should've seen the look in your eyes. It tells me you’re not too too sad about it either.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Yeah, definitely just me.

Maybe it was more of me wanting to see the spark in your eyes again after you kept denying that it had been gone for so long.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You should've seen your face earlier. It was so…

With all of your hip-hop and R&B playlists, I never pegged you to be one to appreciate any of the oldies.

“This is my favorite Beatles song,” I said.

You immediately stopped scrolling the phone hidden behind the book reading the book in your hand to listen to “Here, There, and Everywhere” playing from the cafe's tinny speakers, straining to make it out above the chatter of the establishment.

You said you'll pull up the lyrics to read, and as you did, the smile on your face grew ever so slowly with every word that your eyes traveled to. You started to slightly bob your head to the beat while mouthing some of the lyrics as the song continued on.

Okay, fine, I was watching you. You didn't notice anyway.

“It’s a great song,” you said. You looked up with this sense of meaning in your eyes. I feel like mine had a look of question marks in them.

Your fingers danced on your phone. I’m sure you added it to one of your playlists. Well, I hope.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is the last letter I’ll write. I promise.

It’s graduation tomorrow. If you give me nothing and nothing happens within the next month of tomorrow, I will stop this nonsense and maybe try to finally get over these feelings I seem to have for you.

Whatever it is.

I just…don’t think I can bring myself to do it first.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is so random but you just suddenly crossed my mind. And I remembered this notebook full of so-called "unsent letters to you."

I wonder how you are and if you're doing okay. I don't know why we grew apart after graduation. I just...I don't know. I can't even think about it without my head aching.

It does kind of feel like there's a hollow void in the shape of you somewhere in my body, particularly somewhere around my chest area.

(nope, I won't say it)

I hope you're doing alright.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I can’t believe you came. It's been five years since we saw each other, three since we last spoke, yet you came—the person I least expected to see in the wake.

I never thought there'd be another letter but how could I not write anything?

I didn’t realize how painful and heavy it was to lose my grandfather until you hugged me. You were the first one to see my tears. You were the only one brave enough to hold my broken pieces without caring if you'd get cut by my sharp edges.

How you were able to do it even after all these years will forever be a mystery to me.

Thank you for catching me before I further shattered myself.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m still reeling from recent events.

It was so nice to see you again last night, though. Thanks for dragging me out of my apartment. It’s been so long since we went out like that, just for some frozen yogurt, which naturally turned into a few drinks because after all, it’s still the two of us together.

But good lord help me, I’m still in a daze. How can I be normal when I just dropped the biggest truth bomb of my life thus far?

I told you, “Maybe I’ve always wondered what it would be like if we ever tried before.”

But you know what you said? You know what you frickin’ said?

“I wish you told me earlier. Why didn’t you?”

Well, why didn’t you??????

I swear I could’ve combusted on the spot if I could. I swear I just said that so I could finally let go of this weight from my chest.

But you know what you did?

You walked me home. You made sure I was safe.

And then you visited this morning with coffee and breakfast to nurse the drinks from last night.

You’re just outside my room right now, sitting on my small couch, playing Beatles songs from the speakers. You’re waiting for me to finish whatever I’m doing here because you’re taking me out to see this movie I told you I wanted to watch. Why?

“We have to make up for lost time,” you said.

Chan, what are you doing? Just tell me so I know what I should do.

What do I do with you now?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Happy Chan Day!

I hate you.

I wish you told me about your party earlier! I mean, even hours earlier, not like an hour or two right before.

Okay, I know it’s a spontaneous birthday party and all—I GET IT. But please tell your friends to at least invite your other friends beforehand? So we can also prep stuff for you, okay? I moved around so many schedules for this—for your party. How could I not?

So I hope you’ll forgive me for not preparing your gift yet. I was planning to get it in the coming days when my sched was relatively freer. Still, I’m really, truly sorry for not getting you a gift. I know you like getting gifts because you like giving them as well.

You know, it’s your birthday, yet you were the one who said something that was almost like a gift to me.

You said, “Don’t bother with the gift. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t really need anything else.”

Chan, I still hate you. I think.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’ve come to the harrowing realization that I’m in love with you.

No scratch that. I love you. Throughout all these years, I’ve always loved you.

How’s that for a hit-me-with-a-firetruck realization?

Yours truly (I wish),

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Do not laugh at me. Do not be condescending. Do not dismiss me—your best friend. Do not leave me hanging. Just…do not.

When I show you this, just don’t.

Just read it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Hey, you.

If only you knew how many pages I’ve written about you. Glad to know I’m not the only one doing so.

It started on that day we were in the library. I’d already written about so many things, but that was the first time I ever wrote about you. I’ve never stopped writing since.

And even in pages full of you writing about me, I still write about you.

You’ve always been here, there, and everywhere to me.

Yours, truly and only yours,

Chan

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

NOW PLAYING: seventeen's playlist - song # 2

“To lead a better life / I need my love to be here // … // will be there and everywhere / Here, there and everywhere”

[eyelambspider]

hey I love ur writing.

Can you please do like any other the cod men x a chubby reader who's rlly self conscious and stuff??

idk it's rlly self indulgent

ty ♡ and its alright, I write readers like this! as for the characters and content, i sort of put a bit of everything for you soooo- here ya go!

♡ Hold You || COD Hcs

┊pairing : gn!reader x price, gaz, soap, ghost ┊content warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, nsfw, angst ┊a/n : the last hc zaps my brain so fiercely

soap! unprompted would always compliment you. its assurance, sure, but he genuinely loves your body.

soap! will always steal glances at your hips, waist, arms and hands. he would love physical affection in anyway. cuddling, or always having a hand on you gently. (it happens so often that he doesn't even notice he's doing it)

soap! is speaking to someone but his fingers are gently rubbing formless circles on your thigh or brushing his knuckles against your soft hands as if he wants to hold it.

price! would love your thighs. to feel them warming his ears and over his shoulders, his face nestled in your heat and savoring you with his tongue.

price! doesn't let you try to squirm away or try to hide if your shy. his hands are always on your hips and sides, skimming up under your shirt to feel your stomach.

the taskforce men who especially love to trace the stretchmarks on your skin. fingertips gently marveling at how soft the skin is.

ghost! just picking you up like nothing despite your worried protests. his hands sliding under your thighs and ass to hoist you up onto a counter to kiss you and smother your mumbles.

ghost! likes when you wear what you like. he might not say much when he first catches you wearing a shirt that's not baggy and actually fits you well. his brown eyes always linger a bit too long in their usual 'nonchalant' manner before they soften, like he's smiling under his mask.

gaz! this man would love sleeping with you. you are the warmest damned thing he's ever held and it shouldn't surprise you when you wake up the morning to have him practically laying on you. his head on your chest or stomach, arms on either side of you and body between your legs.

gaz! has boundless patience and time solely for you when you're having a really bad day. crying and so unsure about your body and how you look. anything you need, he'll get it for you. sitting with you, tucking a blanket around both of your laps and letting your head rest on his chest until your mind is off of it. whisper assurances that you're perfect into your temple... but most importantly, just hold you close.

(with love from @lady-boketto) ghost! sending you a video of him bench pressing your weight when you try to worry about him carrying you all the time.

[blightbright]

Solas fandom and "genAI"

I recently came back to Tumblr 99.9% because life is stressful and I'm autistic and special interesting about Solas, but I never could keep my mouth shut so... re: so-called "genAI" in fandom spaces:

I say so-called because it is neither truly generative nor intelligent, and it is not really artificial: it is created with the real stolen efforts of living people and real environmental exploitation

I have little interest in blaming everyday individuals (except CEOs, political leaders, billionaires, etc) for the harms of the most popular "genAI" tech, because it's a systemic problem

"genAI" is intentionally confusing and it's ok if people are genuinely ignorant, at first, of how it works or the harm

I also have loved ones who disagree with me

THAT SAID, I urge people to learn more about and consider the harms to society, other people, and one's own process of self-expression, learning, and creativity from the use of "genAI"

I can't control your behavior but I can tell you that your messiest, most "OOC," error-ridden rough draft, or your most wonky-proportioned stick figure fan art is infinitely more precious, valuable, and emotionally, culturally, and spiritually significant than an unintelligent plagiarism algorithm doing it for you, even if it gets less hits/kudos at first. don't give up hope: your own art means something. I encourage you to make fandom a heartfelt space of resistance!

it is important for communities to define boundaries of unacceptable behavior (i.e. use of non-gen AI spellcheck, Google Translate, "genAI" rewrite functions, character "chats," plot/outline "generation," full-blown "generated" pieces... IMO, I'm fine with the first, uneasy but ok with the second, and the rest I actively oppose)

in the absence of clear boundaries, transparency is key! please publicly and clearly disclose ANY use of "genAI" at ANY stage of the process for fan works, because concealment of this is disrespectful and hurtful. if you didn't know before, such is life. now you know.

avoid all bad faith arguments about shipping wars and witch hunts. you have nothing to fear from posts uncovering AI if you do not use undisclosed "genAI": the two works in question did. you have many things to fear from unchecked "genAI" use if you are a writer, artist, or someone who needs our planet to stay alive

the work @durgeapologist, @fangbanger3000, and others have done to raise awareness about "genAI" use in popular fan works is extremely valuable, difficult work, and does not need to be perfectly worded to be earnest, meaningful, and ultimately beneficial for fan communities

bonus point, sponsored by autism: Solas as a character draws on figures from Norse lore including Loki, god of many things including callouts and criticism of powerful systems; Odin, god of words, wisdom, poets, and uncontrollable creative inspiration; and Fenrir, wolfpup god of surviving trauma, seeking praise and social approval from the powerful only for it to result in pain, raging against the system, and freedom. IMO, if I want any character to rally people together for the sake of resisting billionaire tech companies when possible and celebrating old-fashioned creativity, it's Solas. it's in his story's DNA. whoever we want him to smooch.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Love Bombing

Love Bombing - a manipulation tactic a new partner will employ to attract a lover through lavish gifts, excessive attention, and extreme validation.

Signs of Love Bombing

The red flags below represent common signs of love bombing:

Love bombers constantly check in. A love bomber will send many texts to find out where you are when you are apart. This lack of healthy relationship boundaries should signal this person is not a genuine partner.

Love bombers gaslight partners. When you bring up relationship difficulties later on, the love-bombing partner will try to tell you how good they were to you at the start. This red flag is an effort to make you forget about their misgivings.

Love bombers get too close too fast. Romance can be a rush, but more often, it is a slow simmer as two people grow to know and respect each another. A love bomber, however, will dive right in to attract a new partner. They expect you to spend all your time together, which can register as possessive.

Love bombers lavish you with gifts. A love bomber will give you flashy and expensive gifts. These might not be personal; you should note whether the gift they are giving you is something you even like or said you liked, as often it will only be a gesture but not something personalized to your style and liking.

The love-bombing partner will turn on the other person and emotionally abuse them.

Love bombers are often narcissists and less capable than others of experiencing empathy. They aim to maintain power over others in new relationships, which they do via emotional abuse.

This behavior can quickly lead to an unhealthy, toxic relationship.

Love bombing can be complex for people to grasp because, at first, the relationship seems like a fairy tale.

Even from the first date, the love bomber might offer expensive gifts and insist on spending quality time together. This can seem promising, but warning signs will show this person is not a soulmate.

Grand gestures will transform into cruel words and emotional abuse, proving the validation has been a ruse.

The lured-in person might feel confused and hold onto fonder memories, making it hard to leave their partner, who might have a narcissistic personality disorder.

Dangers of Love Bombing

Love bombing can quickly lead to a cycle of abuse.

You might think, even at the beginning of a relationship, you have found “the one” because that person treasures you and makes falling in love feel simple.

Over time, however, that person will become more irritable and pick at your insecurities while simultaneously reminding you of all the good things they’ve done for you.

Even when you experience low self-esteem, the love bomber will make it seem like they are the only one who can care for you.

This can warp your sense of a healthy relationship and make it harder to break up with the person as you might fear them.

Love bombing can also impact your mental health and cause you to normalize abusive behavior.

Examples of Love Bombing

The following scenarios are examples of love bombing:

A boundary-less relationship: You’ve been dating someone who loves to touch you, even in public. You find it cute but sometimes boundary-breaking. Your partner flips out and becomes belligerent when someone else tries to touch you. You feel this person is not really caring for you but instead being possessive of you.

An impersonal relationship: You meet someone who whisks you off for a romantic weekend away. You feel like you are in heaven, but you also notice this person does not ask you personal questions or care about your passions, hobbies, or friends. While this person showers you with gifts, they also start to get moody and blame you for their issues and setbacks.

A rushed relationship: You meet someone online who immediately says you are the best-looking person they’ve ever seen. They insist on meeting as soon as possible and treat you to a nice meal. They then insist you see each other regularly and, over time, begin to put you down and make fun of some of your features or qualities.

How to Avoid Love Bombing

It is essential to know the signs of love bombing to avoid being a victim. Consider the following tips if you feel your new partner might be love-bombing you:

Ask about the person’s past relationships. If the love bomber calls previous partners “crazy” or says, “They were so obsessed with me,” it might very well be a sign your new partner is repeating past behavior.

Discuss your relationship with trusted friends. Voice your relationship concerns to friends and family members if you have doubts. They might articulate concerns, which you should take to heart. Love bombers condition partners to prioritize them, so this process can be challenging. Moving away from this negative energy will ultimately be healing.

Remember your self-worth. You must maintain an independent self in your romantic relationships. If you feel your new partner is taking advantage of you or not valuing your self-respect, it will be time to leave that relationship.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Does anyone actually say that Ladybug and Adrien are fake somehow?

Yeah, people absolutely have that take. It's what spawned the original post. One too many fics and shipping poles that treated Marinette and Chat Noir as somehow wrong for their crushes. (I apparently read fast. My ML fic's read count is in the thousands at this point. It's enough to let me notice trends that bug me whereas one fic would just be a shrug and move on thing.) On the Adreinette side you get, "Chat Noir is the true Adrien! Civilian Adrien is just a mask! Marinette only loves the fake Adrien so she doesn't deserve him!"

Chat Noir gets less flak, but I've seen it enough to know it's very much a thing. There's a reason Marichat wins out over Ladynoir in almost every poll. If you ever see one, read the comments for the logic and you'll see what I mean. People with this view seem to think things like, "Chat Noir doesn't really love Marinette because Ladybug isn't stuttery and awkward around him! He has to love her when she's a mess!"

This kind of thing is so popular that I had to stop reading fics that paired Marinette with other people because the "Marinette is the true version" thing showed up all the freaking time. So many of these fics felt less like shipping stories and more like Adrien bashing where he was punished for liking Ladybug and not Marinette. It was draining. Even my favorite one has a scene to make sure Adrien feels bad for missing what he could have had and it's a freaking no powers AU!

I actually had a really lovely conversation about this topic when the blog was young because this is one that gets under my skin whenever I come across it and I occasionally need to vent a bit. The kind person who indulged my annoyance straight up said that they used to think that the square "have to fall in love as Marichat bc that's when they can be real with each other." Which was not a stance that was unique to them by any means. They were just validating my first-hand observations of the way SOME people view the ship/characters.

There is a version of the true selves stuff that's genuinely sweet though. It's the version you basically summed up where it's less about these two being the "true" versions and more about Marichat letting the two get to know each other without the pressure of the crushes complicating things. After all, the canon square is only a few hours removed from love at first sight which certainly adds pressure that Marichat removes. The existence of this version that means I don't hate Marichat or even the words "true self", I'm just warry when I see them as I never know what I'm about to see.

While I get why canon's near insta love and subsequent writing issues would draw a person to Marichat, I'll also once again argue that the issue at hand isn't the various ship dynamics, it's canon's writing as the awkward Marichat arc shows. Even though the crushes only flipped after four whole season, canon Marichat doesn't feel any deeper than canon Adrienette or canon Ladynoir. It's played incredibly superficial and doesn't even bother to acknowledge that Chat Noir and Marinette have a functional friendship as established in episodes like Evillustrator, Glaciator, and Glaciator 2. Elation writes Marichat as if they've never interacted before and Chat Noir is just going on a date with a fan he's never officially met. Passion writes Ladynoir as awkwardly as Adrienette always was. Ladybug's months of platonic partnership did nothing to change how she acts when she has a crush or how successful she is at confessing.

In a better show, canon's Marichat arc would be used to set up Adrienette as a more solid couple. Marichat would allow Adrien to see that Marinette loves him even when he's being goofy, but they'd agree to not date because a hero and a civilian dating is too risky. Then Adrienette would happen and, oh look, Adrien can occasionally crack jokes and be silly because he knows Marinette can love him even when he's at his most Chat Noir in addition to being his most Adrien. Marinette is a little surprised, but fine with it. Canon doesn't go there though. As far as the show is concerned, Marichat essentially never happened. It was a one-off fever dream both characters completely forgot. Canon Adrienette has Adrien playing the perfect flawless boyfriend who never annoys Marinette with his jokes.

In summary, that post wasn't about saying that Marichat is bad or unhealthy or that there's no version of the true selves thing that's cute. It was me venting a bit after seeing one too many instances of people acting like Ladrien, Ladynoir, and Adrienette could never be healthy because friends to lovers is some sort of golden standard when it's absolutely not. It's a neutral preference. Each side is fine. What matters is how you write it.

Why the "True Selves" Theory is Insulting

Image for a second that you have a friend who's a bit of a ditz. She's also fun, creative, and sweet. You enjoy being around her, but you've never seen her as more than a friend. Then, one day, a fire breaks out at an event that you and your friend are attending. Your lives are suddenly in mortal peril and the same goes for everyone around you because you can't find the exit. You think that you're going to die.

Then, suddenly, your friend transforms. Not in a magical way, it's just a personality shift, but it might as well be magical because it's like nothing you've ever seen! The ditziness is gone, replaced by laser focus and a take-charge attitude that has everyone following your friend without question. When all is said and done, everyone lives because of you friend. As it turns out, her tendency to get easily distracted means that she's a fantastic in-the-moment problem solver.

Going through that completely changes how you see this girl. You no longer just like her, no, you're now deeply in love with her. You tell a mutual friend about this and they laugh at you, then say, "Don't be silly, that wasn't really her! Her true self isn't that brave girl who saved your life! That was special circumstances that don't count. All that counts is the way she acts when there isn't a crisis going on. It doesn't matter that you've always liked her and enjoyed her company, if you didn't fall in love with based solely on her ditzy self, then you don't really love her."

Most people would call this mutual friend insane because of course going through crazy experiences changes the way we view people! Imagine if you had an allergic reaction and your significant other's reaction was to panic and run away, leaving you to die. You only live because you manage to grab your phone and call '911.' That would understandably lead many people to reassess if this is the person they want to spend their life with just like the opposite experience might make you see a person as a good life partner.

Marinette is Ladybug. She gets full credit for everything she's done in the suit and it's perfectly fine for Adrien to become attracted to her after he sees her in action. It doesn't mean that he only values her Ladybug side. He quite clearly cares for Marinette, he just hasn't seen her in the right light for him to fall in love. (And, if we're being frank, Marinette acts like Ladybug all the time when he's not around or when he is around, but a crisis is going on. She's really not that different from her alter ego.)

Along similar lines, Marinette isn't wrong for being drawn to Adrien's sweeter side more than his over-the-top jokey side. There's a reason why Glaciator ended with her blushing. Compare the end of Glaciator to the end of Origins and, yeah, same energy because - in that moment - Chat Noir was letting his Adrien side out by being more sincere and vulnerable, which are the things that Marinette values most in a romance and the things that he rarely shows while in the mask. It doesn't mean that she hates his jokey side, it's just not going to win her heart when Adrien's right there being sweet and sincere while Chat Noir hides his feelings behind a smile and a laugh.

In fact, it's pretty insulting to Adrien to say that someone shouldn't be attracted to his more vulnerable side. That his sincerity is worth less than his jokes. Almost as insulting as telling Marinette that her Ladybug side doesn't count and she should get no credit for being brave as that's not really her. Loving her only counts if a person falls in love while she's behaving in her most over-the-top, cringe, embarrassing way.

I don't know about you, but I would never want someone to hold me to that standard nor would I hold my significant other to that standard! It's perfectly normal to have things that you don't love about your significant other. In fact, I'd argue that part of the magic of a real, lasting romance is having someone who loves you even though you're not perfect. If you are looking for a partner who never annoys you or does something wrong, then you will never find happiness because that person does not exist.

Now that I've said all of that, I want to add that I do think that marichat, "love both sides" stories can be cute. It's just not One True Path to Real Love. It's totally fine if the square starts dating based on the things that they find attractive about each other and then just continue to be in love as they learn about the other side. If anything, that's normal. Learning about a person is what dating is all about! A good relationship is no different than a good friendship, you just get some bonus perks if you're into that kind of thing.

I'll also note that I'm not criticizing stories where Marinette feels like she's the "real" version and Ladybug is the fake because that's a really understandable thing to be nervous about. Tikki saying that shit? Hard no. Terrible mentoring.

[shmisky]

Now, that is a good question. There is a way to make Stan feel a deep hatred towards Ford or decide to let him go and stop love him, feeling only indifference towards him, without the need of magic or Bill or supernatural, tragic stuff?

I assume you don’t mean through brainwashing nor total/partial amnesia (forgetting his sweet moments with Ford) or anything of the sort either, right? That would be cheating, after all. You probably mean genuine hatred, coming from the bottom of Stan’s heart, with all his memories and his mind intact.

So no, I don’t believe so, hahah. Stan is simply too forgiving when it comes to Ford, and imo there’s nothing canon!Ford could believably do that would earn his true hatred. Pre-Weirdmaggedon Stan is very angry, true enough, and initially refused to help save Ford from Bill, but I think he was 1) running from his feelings and 2) didn’t know and refused to think about what was truly happening to Ford (that Ford was literally being tortured instead of just serving as gold décor). He also “disowns” Ford for a while—up until Ford changes his mind about Stan and apologizes and invites him to sail away together, that is.

The guy spent thirty years slaving away with the portal to save a brother whose last words to him were still pretty hostile! Ford didn’t intervene when Stan was kicked out, then after ten years without reaching out called him to the other side of the country in the middle of winter with just a postcard written PLEASE COME and then demanded Stan to help him with the first “worthwhile” thing Stan would’ve done in his life (according to him), and Stan still chose to sacrifice everything for him! Ford refuses to thank Stan, kicks him out... but Stan still accepts his broposal when Ford changes his mind! I’ve seen a lot of people say that in Stan’s place they wouldn’t have forgiven Ford, understandably so.

I actually think it’s possible for Stan to not forgive Ford if you do it well, but not to stop loving him. Like we say in my country, Stan doesn’t “play on duty” when the subject is loving Stanford Pines, and that of course affects his ability to forgive him. As I see it, he loves Ford more than he loves himself. He’s quite devoted, codependent, and—truth be told—has too low of a self-esteem. He needs Ford, so he has to forgive him.

I can see him not forgiving Ford if another beloved person is involved (such as one of the kids) or if he develops more love for himself (but that wouldn’t happen out of the blue). Not easy to happen, since we know Stan basically chose Ford over the entire world:

I think some love would likely stay even then, though, because it’s too deeply rooted. In a way he’ll always love Ford deep down.

[lockandkeyblade]

A Little Self-Insert Never Hurt Anybody

That's what Danny tells himself, anyway. It's just, he wasn't expecting the new universe he'd decided to hide in to know about him, and they sort of don't.

But they sort of do, because Danny Phantom is a cartoon about his life that somehow manages to become more and more inaccurate the longer the show went on.

He's really glad it stopped on season 3. He's not sure he could've handled another season 3.

The thing is though, Danny's a 2000's kid himself. He knows that if exists, there's porn of it. So he googles himself and finds a few fan sites, finds the fanfiction, finds a couple people tossing around a few ideas of what ghost society might really be like, and...

It has a decent amount of fans (or Phandom, as they call themselves, and isn't that just embarrassing but also Super Flattering). He's not going to comment on some of the ships (he will never get pearls in his boba tea again, pitch or otherwise) but the thing is, a lot of fans just seem to be really interested in what the show doesn't give them. Not just about his struggles, but the ghosts. What they might really be like, what they might really want.

He shouldn't, but-- hey. There's no GIW here. There's no one who believes this stuff is actually real. And he misses home; misses the Infinite Realms, even if he's not quite ready to go back yet.

So he makes a tumblr, and starts writing. Talking, really. About ghosts and Obsessions, about the rules of engagement and how you never, ever ask a ghost how they died.

His follower count slowly grows, and people start to realize that IceStar14 is one of those people who will answer anything. He very carefully navigates the mindfield that is shipping by telling people to "do what they want"; he can't really stop them, nor does he have the mind to. Despite this, his posts quickly become several thousand word back and forths with mutuals who might not get everything right, but are intuitive enough to get the basics.

It's delightful. It's kind of crazy. Danny can't help but feel...understood, by other, living people, for the first time ever. By people who aren't Jazz, or Sam, or Tuck.

Which is really the only reason why he starts answering the more invasive asks, the ones that are far more personal than people probably expect them to be. He goes from just talking about ghosts to talking about his life, the struggles of learning his powers, the stress of living a double life.

The fallout when his parents discover his halfa status, the-- the things they did to him afterwards. He never brings up the idea of a multiverse, or how he could've gone to hide in one. Somehow, the fanfiction writers figure that out all on their own.

They give him new families and people who understand him, constantly writing stories about him meeting the Justice League, or the BatFam, and--

It's the closest thing he's ever gotten to therapy. It hurts, but people love him. Or, they love the crazy little fantheorist, and they adore Danny Fenton/Phantom. The idea of him being hurt spawns a slew of hurt/comfort content that he genuinely spends hours curled up with, on the good days. Even on the bad.

No one has to know they made him cry. No one has to know how grateful he is, that people think he deserves better. People think he deserves better. Maybe he starts to take care of himself a little more, thanks to that. Maybe sleep comes a little easier, because he doesn't have to lay in bed and try to tell himself he's loved; he can just pick up his phone and scroll a few key tags, and it's right there, on the screen. People love him. People accept him.

It's pretty great.

Slowly but surely, the posts explode. He goes to sleep one night with a couple hundred followers and wakes up the next to several thousands. It's pretty easy to find out why.

Red Robin reblogged a few of his "stories". Nightwing quickly liked a bunch of them. In fact, a good majority of the superhero community that has an online presence has made at least one comment about Danny Phantom. He has no idea how they found him, frantically searching the tags until he finds one that makes his throat go dry.

"If Phantom was real, he'd be a Robin." tumblr user Danny4LJPres suggested. It has 14,000 responses.

One of them is a reblog from RedRobin, who agrees wholeheartedly.

[hellspawn-enjoyer]

A Gift of Warmth

Just an early Valentine's Day fic, plus I have the urge to write about them.

AO3 link for bookmarking

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Astarion/Karlach

Word Count: 1.2k

Content: Fluff, it's all fluff and relationship-building

Astarion had seduction down to an art. It wasn’t just about physicality—though, of course, that had its place. No, true seduction was about knowing what people wanted. The unspoken desires, the small vulnerabilities they tried to hide. And Karlach? She was a challenge.

Not that he wasn’t up for it.

Their first flirtation had been easy enough. A sly smirk, a teasing comment, a honeyed word. He was met with laughter, boisterous and genuine, but not much else. Karlach enjoyed the game, but she never let it go beyond that. Not because she wasn’t interested—Astarion wasn’t so blind as to miss the way she sometimes looked at him—but because of that infernal engine burning beneath her skin. She couldn’t touch anyone without hurting them. And what was seduction without touch?

Astarion mulled this over one night, lounging by the fire, watching Karlach as she tended to her armor. Her broad shoulders gleamed in the firelight, her curls wild, her grin effortlessly warm as she joked with the others.

He tapped a finger against his chin. Their night in the forest hadn���t been a complete failure. They couldn’t have any real fun together, but she seemed content with just being with him. It was oddly comforting but didn’t fully convince him that he could secure her favor on their little late-night chats alone. If he couldn’t win her over with physical charm, he’d have to be clever about it. Gifts, maybe? But what did a woman like Karlach desire? She wasn’t particularly vain—jewelry and silks would mean little to her. Wine, perhaps? No, she preferred ale.

Then, as if the gods themselves had whispered in his ear, he remembered something.

Karlach had once mentioned, in an offhanded but wistful way, that it had been years since she’d held something soft. No embrace, no caress, not even the simple comfort of pressing a pillow to her cheek. Her little travel companion Clive is apparently more firm with a few loving singes than soft.

Astarion smirked. A stuffed rabbit. Something absurdly soft. Something she could hold. It was perfect.

And, best of all, it would make him look thoughtful and generous. Which, of course, was the goal.

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Finding a stuffed rabbit in the middle of war-torn Faerûn was, unfortunately, not as simple as he’d hoped.

They passed through markets, ruins, and abandoned homes, but none offered what he sought. He briefly considered stealing a child’s toy but quickly dismissed the idea. Not because of morals—please, he’d done far worse—but because if Karlach found out, she’d throttle him (or at least, try).

Then, finally, in the ruins of an old village, he spotted it.

Nestled among broken furniture and forgotten belongings, there it was: a small, well-worn stuffed rabbit. Its fur was patchy, one ear flopped at an awkward angle, but it was undeniably soft.

Astarion picked it up gingerly. “Well, aren’t you a sad little thing?”

He brushed off the dust, inspecting it. It wasn’t pristine, but it had character. Karlach would appreciate that.

And, strangely, holding it stirred something in him—something distant and uncomfortable. A memory, perhaps, of soft things long before Cazador. He pushed it down. This wasn’t about him.

With a self-satisfied grin, he tucked the rabbit into his pack and made his way back to camp.

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That night, Karlach sat near the fire, sharpening her axe. The others had drifted off, leaving her and Astarion alone. Perfect.

With calculated casualness, Astarion sat beside her, pulling the stuffed rabbit from his pack. “For you, darling,” he said smoothly, presenting it with a flourish.

Karlach blinked at the offering, then at him. “Is that… a bunny?”

“Yes, well-spotted,” he quipped. “It’s a rabbit, actually. And it’s for you.”

For the first time since he’d met her, Karlach looked genuinely speechless. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and took the small toy from his hands. Visibly doing her best to remain calm so as not to set it aflame. Her fingers curled around it, cradling it as if it were something impossibly delicate.

That caught his attention and made him wonder—if they could touch would she be just as impossibly delicate with him? Then this scratchy ache crept passed his mask and settled in his chest.

A long silence stretched between them.

Astarion waited for laughter, for teasing, for some lighthearted remark about how ridiculous he was. Instead, Karlach swallowed hard, her voice uncharacteristically quiet when she finally spoke. “Gods, Astarion… This is…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

She pressed the rabbit to her chest. “It’s been so long since I held something soft,” she admitted. “I don’t even remember the last time.”

Astarion shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. He had expected amusement, perhaps gratitude—but this? This raw, quiet emotion?

“Well,” he said, voice softer than he intended, “now you can.”

Karlach looked up at him, and for the first time, Astarion felt something shift. The usual playfulness between them was gone, replaced by something deeper.

It wasn’t seduction. It wasn’t a game.

It was something real.

And he didn’t know what to do with that.

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In the days that followed, Astarion noticed small changes. Karlach kept the rabbit close trying her best not to burn it too much, tucking it into her pack during the day, resting it near her bedroll at night. When she thought no one was looking, she would run her fingers over its ears, her expression soft.

And Astarion… found himself watching her. More than before.

He told himself it was because his plan had worked—he had earned favor, had secured something between them. And yet, every time Karlach looked at him with that warm, open smile, he felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.

One evening, she caught him staring.

“Y’know,” she said, tilting her head, “I don’t think anyone’s ever given me a gift just because ‘sides my old folks.”

Astarion scoffed. “Oh, please. A woman as charming as you? I know at least a certain crowd that would happily throw themselves at your feet.”

“Not like this,” Karlach said simply, squeezing the rabbit’s paw. “Not something that actually meant anything.”

Astarion didn’t know how to respond. He had never been one for genuine connection. His life had been survival, seduction, control. But Karlach? She made things feel… different.

And that terrified him.

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A week later, under a sky dusted with stars, Karlach sat beside him again. The others were asleep, the night quiet. She held the rabbit in her lap, running her fingers along its worn fur.

“You’re different,” she mused.

Astarion arched a brow. “Oh? Do tell.”

Karlach smirked. “You act all smooth, all ‘look at me, I’m a devilishly handsome rogue,’ but I think you’re pretty neat, soldier.”

He scoffed. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling.”

But Karlach just shook her head, looking at him—not through him, not at the mask, but at him. “I mean it,” she said. “You didn’t have to do this. The bunny. But you did.”

Astarion opened his mouth, ready with some quip, but the words caught.

Because the truth was, he hadn’t done it just to win her over. At first, perhaps. But now? Now, he wasn’t sure why he had done it.

Maybe, just maybe, it was because seeing her smile made something in him ache in a way that wasn’t unpleasant.

He looked at Karlach—the firelight dancing in her eyes, the rabbit clutched gently in her arms—and, for the first time in two hundred years, he had no plan. No scheme. No carefully crafted seduction.

Just a quiet moment. Just her. And, gods help him, he didn’t hate it.