#hope this fixes link problem

[starshapedoasis]

~Fanfic Recommendations~

1. World that’s been and gone - Storyshark2005

A classic you’ve prob already read. Multi-part series, Angst, Fluff, Reconciliation, The whole family makes an appearance.

2. My Sister Lover - DeathandCannibalism

Pre-fame, Angst, Comfort, Smut.

3. You never notice you are blind - mansgotalimit

Alan McGee finding out about Liam & Noel’s relationship. Light Smut?

4. The passing of Peggy Gallagher - Jeevey

Another classic you’ve prob already read. Slow-burn, Angst, Reconciliation.

5. Do You Still Feel Like Me? - OnTheWrongSideOfTheBed

Liam wants to be Noel’s boyfriend truly is the best description. Smut, Light Angst, Fluff.

6. FilmStar - OrphanAccount

Noel finds out Liam was in a porn video. Smut, Light Angst.

7. Things We Never See - Jeevey

Jill Furmanovsky realizing Liam and Noel’s “special relationship’. outsider POV.

8. Who Feels Love? -OnTheWrongSideOfTheBed

Early fame, Jealous Noel, Light Smut.

9. Tell me when will the river run green? -Buzz_Wuzzo

Set during standing on the shoulder of giants recording. Smut, Fluff.

10. I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you know -mansgotalimit

Wonderwall is about Liam just a fact, Fluff, Angst, Bittersweet ending.

11. to Photograph what the eye can’t see - mansgotalimit

Noel takes a scandalous pic of Liam. Smut.

12. Baby, you’re gonna be the one to save me - snickfic

Mpreg, Liam would be a beautiful mother. 🙂‍↕️

13. Star-Shaped - Savageandwise

Multi-part series, female Liam, very special to me.

14. Guileless - Anonymous

Guigsy finds out about Liam and Noel’s Relationship and joins in. Smut.

[613teeth]

Ship in a Bottle / The Tulpar

(explanation in tags)

A ship in a bottle

Throttle the neck

And shake back and forth

Put a cork in the mouth

The captain hesitates

The warning signs scream

The screens are all dripping

And glistening red

A ship in a bottle

The air is hissing

Bleeding from seams

While the engine keeps quiet

There's something itching

At the base of the skull

The skin has been flayed

The hull is not breeched

A ship in a bottle

The Rot is a-coming

Clean the wound

And replace the gauze

Take your pills, captain

Swallow them down

I know its not easy

I hope know this hurts

A ship in a bottle

The cargo hold opened

Like an egg cracked

An embryo expelled

Captain, my captain

You knew this would happen

You knew I would falter

On the rungs of the ladder

Ship in a bottle

The crew are all floating

Turn the pistons

Keep feeding the engine

Swallow it, captain

The fuel that I give you

The only thing pure

On this infested vessel

A ship in a bottle

A rotting carcass

Foam, like pus

Leaks through the tissue

It looks at me, captain

The ship, it keeps staring

Unblinking, unmoving

One bloodshot eye, judging

[write-it-motherfuckers]

🖤~Song Of The Day~🖤

The song of the day is:     A Magnificent Gray -by- Slow Meadow

The challenge is to write something based off of this song, be it the name, the cover, or the tune itself. Let your imagination go wild and see where the music takes you.

Have at it Darlings!

[inkyu]

On that artfight grind yall

Character(s) attacked: https://artfight.net/character/4641187.jacques-sieghard | https://artfight.net/character/4105014.null

(for the constructive critism tag read my yapping in the tags for context .w.)

[rin-may-1103]

The Master Post.

someone asked for a master post so here we are.

Tag List? yes, there is a tag list. If you'd like to be Added, please leave a comment on the Stories Linked Post. If the tags aren't working for some reason, you can either Follow this post by clicking the bell (or the three dots) or follow the Story's Post the same way. I'll update both Relevant Posts when there is a New Part.

I hope y'all keep enjoying the stories as much as I enjoy writing them.

(currently dealing with life, so posts are going to be very, very slow, sorry.)

Stories and Summaries:

The Wrong Robin Au (DP x DC):

Tim Drake saw Danny do a quadruple somersault, which resulted in him believing Danny was the first Robin for years. He still figured out Bruce but thinks Dick is in the dark. Now with the second Robin dead, and Batman quickly reaching the end of his sanity, Tim takes it upon himself to get Robin to come back. Danny is very confused when this random kid tries to blackmail him into becoming Robin.

Badger Day Au (DP x DC):

Danny is stuck in a Groundhog Day kinda situation and he would like to be let out now, please. The league is very worried.

Delilah's language (DP x DC):

Bruce Wayne approaches the Fentons because Damian is a big fan of Danny for his work in the conservation of the purpleback gorilla. So now Danny is going to the birthday of this random kid so he can teach him gorilla sign language so he can talk to the purple-back gorilla as well.

Just a Bite (DP x DC):

Danny's homeless on the streets of Gotham, when he gets a terrible idea from some passerby. Three weeks after living with the Waynes, they still haven't noticed he's not supposed to be there.

72 hours (DP x DC):

During a battle with the rest of the league, John Constantine is accidentally sent into the palace of Pariah Dark, Tyrant of the Dead, and Bane of the Living. Danny just wanted to have a simple spa day.

Biggest Regret (DP x DC):

Danny Had been optimistic when he created The Email. Three days, that's what he gave himself. Three days to fix or get out of whatever problem he was dealing with and open his laptop to restart the timer. Three days. Past him had thought that If he ever got caught they'd just kill him; it's what they said they would do this whole time, so why wouldn't he think otherwise? It's been more than three days, and at this point, he's just glad someone could fulfill his last wish.

The Disappointment (DP x DC):

Ra's has stated his disapproval of one of the twins, now Talia is rushing to get them out of there and to Bruce to be safe. Danny has other ideas.

Black Retrievers and Golden Cats (DP x DC):

He remembered how it took two hours for his mind to catch up to what he had done, two hours for him to realize he had just killed his brother. It took another two days to realize his brother was never coming back, that the pits had not worked. Damian stared at the camera footage infront of him, his family's voices buzzing with theories and analyzing everything they could. He remembered his brother's bright carefree smile just minutes before Damian had killed him. So, why? Why was he seeing it again?

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row. (DP X DC):

Tim doesn't understand how he's losing at university to a toddler. Danny's not having a great time, but it's fine because now he can terrorize Red Robin.

The Willpower of Space (DP X DC):

A faulty green lantern ring wakes from it's accidental eon long sleep due to how powerful Danny's willpower is. It decides that Danny is a worthy wielder and grants Danny the ability to use it. There's just one problem; Danny keeps dying. and the ring doesn't understand what's going on. Oa is very concerned.

The Weeping Boy Au (DP X DC):

I'll think of a summary later, for now, it's an expansion of this post.

The Eyes of Death Au (DP X DC):

In an attempt to prevent a cult from causing problems, Danny accidentally convinces the Justice League and Co. that he's possessing himself. Damian is not happy that his boyfriend is apparently the new June Moone.

Aspiring escape artist (DP X DC):

The new foster kid might be a little more traumatized than the other kids they usually take in for a while, but it's not like they can't handle it. That is, until Danny started seeking out, past the bat-grade security system, without getting caught and without using his powers.

[hyunjinxgirl]

skz links♡

juicy prn links from X. MDNI!!!

Hyung line

: ̗̀➛chan deepens his twitching cock inside of you★

: ̗̀➛ chan comes all over your tits★

: ̗̀➛ minho loves the taste of you★

: ̗̀➛ minho likes the creampie ★

: ̗̀➛ changbin is a bit big..★

: ̗̀➛ changbin fingers you like there's no tomorrow★

: ̗̀➛ hyunjin fucks you in the dorm, til the guys are sleeping★

: ̗̀➛ hyunjin lets you ride him★

Maknae line

: ̗̀➛ jisung fingers you so good, while your hand are tied together ★

: ̗̀➛ you made jisungie cum ★

: ̗̀➛ felix and you decided to make a quick sex tape★

: ̗̀➛ you're clingy and needy for felix ★

: ̗̀➛ seungmin loves suck on your breast★

: ̗̀➛ oral sex with seungmin ★

: ̗̀➛ passionate sex with jeongin★

: ̗̀➛ jeongin takes care of you★

if you liked it don't forget to like, reblog and comment your experiences, have a nice day!♡

×××

edit: hey guys!! first, thank you for that lot of notes, i'm so glad you liked these links🤭

× second, i made the post coquette i hope you still like it♡

× then the last thing, i needed to change a few links at the maknae line because for some kind of reason, that part is so chaotic, and has a lot of problem with saving the links, i can't💀🔫

× then the last last thing, sorry for the spelling, english is not my first language, but i always try to fix my mistakes😭🙏🏻

bye bye~

[oduvnix-ts4]

⭐️MAKEUP OVERHAUL MOD⭐️

   I finally updated my vanity table overhaul mod! This mod now includes 4 modules, each working on their own, but I recommend downloading them all together!

 1. VANITY TABLE OVERHAUL

   I took into account all the problems with past makeup looks (some makeup looks were not as in the title, and also not suitable for darker skin tones).

   I used incredibly beautiful makeups from TwistedCat and Miiko, which you should MUST DOWNLOAD from the links below (about 10MB total):

♡ Stalker Eyeshadow&Eyeliner ♡ Spiceberry Lipstick ♡ Soft Glam Lipstick&Glitter Overlay ♡ Slayer Eyeliner Low ♡ Prism Lipstick&Eyeshadow ♡ Date Night Eyeshadow&Eyeliner (03) ♡ Dark Hour Eyeshadow ♡ Basic Please EyeLid Eyeshadow ♡ Wing It Eyeliner

   Examples of some overrides:

   I've tested each makeup on different appearance types and skin tones, so everything should look great this time around! But if something suddenly goes wrong - be sure to write!

   Also, all these makeups are applied on the stylist station from the «Get Famous» add-on. Now you can organize a real beauty salon, for this I even made a small fix, allowing you to ask to do hair or makeup of any sim, even strangers!

 2. APPLY MAKEUP MOD

   All these ready-made game makeup, of course, are good, but there are times when we don't need a full makeup, but still want to put on lipstick or eyeliner!

   For this, I made a mod that allows you to choose any makeup, be it eyeliner, lipstick, blush, eyeshadows or highlighter, and apply it individually!

   Now, a new 'Choose and Apply Makeup' menu will appear on your vanity table, clicking on which you can choose the makeup you want:

    I made a large number of different makeup options, from casual to evening. Here we also use makeup from TwistedCat and Miiko (I wrote about them above), which you need to download for this mod to work.

   There will be a corresponding animation for each type of makeup! I also added a new action 'Apply Perfume', which will give a confidence buff to your sim.

This is what applying makeup and perfume looks like:

 3. MAKEUP OBJECTS RETEXTURE

   Various objects are used during the application of makeup:

    I changed some of the objects a bit, making them smaller, and also repainted all the textures:

4. NEW OBJECTS for APPLYING MAKEUP

   As you know, makeup in the game can only be applied with the help of a vanity table, which takes up a lot of space, and costs a lot of money! But in real life, we only need one cosmetic bag and a mirror.

   With my mod, you can apply makeup using the following objects:

    IMPORTANT! Place any of these objects on the table (it doesn't matter how, as long as it is on the surface of the table) and place a chair. Now you can apply makeup anywhere, because you can take the cosmetic bag with you!

   If you download the 2nd module, then with these objects you can also apply perfume and makeup separately!

   Here's how you can now apply makeup by placing a small mirror on your desktop:

✧ DOWNLOAD ✧ 

➀ Vanity Table Overhaul (!!!be sure to delete my past mod if you downloaded it) ➁ Apply Makeup Mod (!!!required Lot51 Core Library) ➂ Makeup Objects Retexture ➃ New Objects for Applying Makeup (!!!download only one file)

❗One of the following DLCs is required for this mod to work:  

✧ «Vintage Glamour» stuff pack

✧ «Modern Luxe» kit

✧ «Secret sanctuary» kit

I really hope you enjoy this mod and improve the routine of your beautiful characters!!! I'll be glad for any reaction you have 🥺🤍

If you can't download from SFS: MediaFire

[atinystarcafe]

Yunho fic recs

────୨ৎ────

✴ : smut

ᯓᡣ𐭩 : absolute favourites

[Last updated: 07.04.2025] ⋆˙⟡ If any links don't work anymore please let me know I'll get it fixed as soon as possible ^^

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Series ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Across Stardust - @honeyhotteoks ✴ | soulmate au, idol!yunho x makeup artist!reader (ONGOING)

you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate.

Summer nights | Summer's End - @honeyhotteoks ✴ | roommates au (COMPLETED)

he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.

Guard Dog | part 2 - @beenbaanbuun | hybrid au, hybrid!yunho

Ok, Cowboy - @everyonewooeverywhere (✴) | strangers to lovers au, cowboy mechanic!yunho (ONGOING)

when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Guerilla | bonus - @sorryimananti-romantic ✴ | serial killer doctor!yunho x crime fiction writer!reader (COMPLETED)

you're a crime fiction writer and you move in with dr. jeong yunho despite his strange, strict house rules. he's very private and you don't mind that, but he's also very cold and unapproachable and you're determined to crack through his walls. little did you know your obsession with gore and crime would melt his heart. Soon, you find yourself tangled in lies, secrets and a detective from your past who suspects yunho and his gang as you navigate thru your relationship with him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Oneshots and drabbles ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sudden + (A)cute - @eoieopda | friends to lovers au

jeong yunho’s got a serious case of downbaditis — oh, and also a cold.

Stupid In Love - @koyagifs | soon to be parent!au

yunho so excited to become a father, he was determined to make your babymoon the most memorable memory for you.

Antithesis - @kitten4sannie ✴ | spiderman/venom bf!yunho

your boyfriend is going through a phase.

Sixth Sense - @pirateprincessblog | spiderman au, enemies to lovers au, spiderman!yunho x villain!reader

while all of the city loves their superhero and is ready to defend him with their lives, you seem to be the only fool looking at the bigger picture. and the only one to loathe spiderman.

Pressure Points - @jinkoh ✴ | physiotherapist!yunho

your physical therapy is getting very physical

Love Again - @xomakara ✴ | single parent au, single parent!yunho x single parent!reader

You're a lonely single mother sleeping with your coworker, Yunho, who is also a lonely single dad, for the past few months. One night, after a passionate moment, Yunho suggests that maybe it's time for your daughter and his daughter to finally meet.

P☆RNST☆R - @slutforwoo ✴ | nerd!yunho x gothcamgirl!reader

Yunho’s friends notice him overworking himself like never before. Hongjoong, being the good friend he is, recommends his favorite camgirl. In hopes he can start to destress himself. But being the workaholic he is, he decides to start tutoring for extra cash. Y/n is failing her chemistry classes again. Again. On probation with the school, she agrees to get a tutor. Well, who would’ve thought that tutor would end up being Yunho, and that during one of their study sessions he’ll recognize that back tattoo of his new favorite pastime? Guess we have to find out, don’t we?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The Drill - @byuntrash101 ✴

yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill"

Prove Her Wrong - @kp-alice ✴ | sub bf!yunho

Yunho knew that what that stranger had said to him back then wasn't true. He quite literally had physical evidence to prove it. And yet, he couldn't help but think about her comment a little too often.

Can't Get Rid Of You - @yunniverse | academic rivals to lovers au

both you and yunho are chosen to attend the same conference, staying in a local hotel, only there’s only one room, and you both seemingly hate each other

Is that me? - @evenyvn | streamer!yunho x gf!reader

in which yunho makes his in game avatar eerily similar to you and thought no one will notice.

Raw Need - @mingi-s-dimples ✴ | omegaverse au, alpha!yunho x omega!reader

your first rut washed rough over you... and even if you didn't wanna do anything about it... your man made sure he'd fuck you senseless thru your rut.

Highs And Lows - @slutteok ✴ | gamer!yunho

you and yunho always joked about getting a dog bed.

09:12 - @atinyslittleworld | protective friend!yunho

Yunho’s protective instincts surface when a persistent stalker confronts Y/N, revealing his possessive side and sparking unexpected emotions.

23:13 PM - @hwaightme | bf!yunho

to be loved is to be heard, and yunho reminds you of this again and again, knowing you beyond the literal and the expected.

Dibs - @s4nniebe4r | rival!yunho

somebody keeps stealing your favorite chair

Find You In My Heart - @anxiouscherubs ✴ | friends to lovers au

the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

Playing In Glass Houses - @honeyhotteoks ✴

the idea was simple, buy a new toy and spice up your relationship. you didn’t expect it to be like this.

The Fall - @honeyhotteoks | idol bf!yunho x dancer!reader

during dance practice for the upcoming tour, you fall from a dangerous position, yunho reacts and gets you to the hospital.

In The Act - @honeyhotteoks ✴ | roommate!yunho

you and yunho are roommates. he never comes home early, except for the one time he does and catches you in the middle of touching yourself and moaning his name.

Darling Mine - @yuyusbabygirl ✴

You spend the night at your boyfriend's place for the first time and he really likes it when you wear his clothes

Pretty Hands - @starcrossedmusings ✴ | best friends to lovers au

You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

Too Sweet - @hongjoongspoetry ✴ | upcoming rockstar!yunho, opposites attract au

Two complete opposites who are quickly falling for each other, one wanting more but the other afraid of all the things that could go wrong.

Testing The Waters - @stayteezdreams | friends to lovers au

While attending a Halloween party, you learn Yunho's mystery costume was really just a plan to make his feelings for you a bit more obvious.

Tension And Desires - @xomakara ✴ | oblivious friends to lovers au

You and Yunho are friends who are oblivious to each other's feelings. Despite the playful animosity between you two, a strong sexual tension simmers beneath the surface. After a night of flirting and drinking, you finally give in to your desires…

Snuggles And Cuddles - @makeitmingi | drunk bf!yunho

Yunho has the best alcohol tolerance amongst his friends. However, after a night out, you didn't think that his best friend would bring him home, absolutely wasted. Seems like alcohol unlocks a whole new side of your boyfriend you didn't know existed

Kinktober 2024 : Breeding - @desirehorizon ✴

an innocent question to your boyfriend leaves you pumped full of his cum - what an evening!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The Puppy With An MAcc - @kp-alice | client!yunho x dominatrix!reader

Despite officially retiring as a professional dominatrix months ago, there's one client you've decided to keep. Maybe it's because of the generous amount he pays, or maybe, just maybe, it's more than that. With the lines between the two of you continuously blurring, you can't help but return every time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A "First" Date - @wooyoungiewritings ✴ | best friends to lovers au

Your best friend Yunho and you always find dates for each other, trying to help each other out with love. You always try to find the best ones for each other, but one day, Yunho sets you up with his “friend”, and you quickly realize that your best friend wants to prove a point. And maybe he actually knows you better than you think - in multiple ways.

All I Want For Christmas Is You - @starrysvn | friends to lovers au, fake dating au

college christmas parties, one way or another, always offered you the clarity you needed. like when you asked your friend yunho to be your fake boyfriend for the holidays

Feeling Like I Do - @sorryimananti-romantic | best friends to lovers au

you and yunho have been best friends since forever and neighbours for a while, and you find it harder with each passing day to hide your feelings for him.

Player 9 - @pirateprincessblog ✴ | football player/coach!yunho x aunt!reader

finally reuniting with your family after years of working abroad, your six year old nephew doesn't leave your side. he wants you to take him to school, he wants to do his homework with you, he wants to sit on your lap during meals, and he wants you to watch his football practice. how convenient that you're almost always alone on that stadium, and that his coach is just the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life.

Muse - @yunholuvrr ✴ | model!yunho x photographer!reader

Your friend Hongjoong just held a show for his new fashion line and invited you to photograph the event, but one model catches your eye more than any of the clothes on the runway.

Opposites Attract - @tainsan ✴ | college au, tutor!yunho

you are on the verge of being expelled, so your teacher helps you find a tutor, yet what you weren't expecting was much more than just tutoring sessions.

Come Fly With Me - @hwaightme | pilot!yunho x journalist!reader

Aerophobia - the fear of flying. And clearly, something that your boss has no idea exists. While you curse the universe and the metal bird, your handsome seatmate ponders if it is possible to redirect this flight, from Gwangju, to your heart.

Good Boy - @yuyusboyfriend ✴

helping your roommate with a hard problem...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Puppyboys4you.com - @kitten4sannie ✴ | camboy!yunho

dedicating your hard earned money and free time to your favorite camboy goodboy_99 comes with a lot of perks.

Something To Give Eachother - @sungbeam | childhood best friends to lovers au

yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)

739 Yunho - @potatomountain ✴ |cnc, sexworker!yunho

with sex work legal, it was as readily available as texting *739, filling out the form sent, and either choosing your partner or letting the company choose you. Even the more controversial kinks were accommodated, and that was something you wanted.

Hide And Seek - @kitten4sannie ✴ | cnc, bf!yunho

You and Yunho play your favorite game together. 

Hunted - @mulloey ✴ | cnc, internet hookup!yunho

it’s all a game, he says. you’re desperate to play.

[2:12 am] - @hwaflms | bf!yunho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Do You Have Abs? - @vent-stink

A Special Gift - @xuchiya | bf!yunho

[1:15] - @yuyusgirlie | husband!yunho

Four In The Morning - @ateezmakemeweep ✴ | strangers to lovers au

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Arrogant CEO Yunho Who Gets Knocked Down By His Cute Little Intern - @crimsonbubble ✴ | ceo!yunho x intern!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Untitled - @seobinghard

Your Skin Is Against My Body - @323cutie ✴

The Way You Look At Me - @323cutie

Anniversaries - @x0x0josephinex0x0 | bf!yunho

Photoshoot - @atinysunbaby | idol!yunho x idol!reader

────୨ৎ────

Did you finish all the fics? Check out the other members too! ⤵ Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho

[joojconverts]

4T3 Conversion of HistoricalSimsLife's CC Catalogue

So… here we are, haha! This is the grand project I’ve been working on for about three months now! I made a promise to all of you, so I’m here not only to fulfill that promise and make a bit of a comeback but also to celebrate reaching the incredible milestone of 3,000 FOLLOWERS!!!

I’m so grateful to all of you for everything that has happened since I joined this community, it’s one of the little shining points of my life, lol. So, let me give back by bringing your sims MORE THAN 150 pieces of CC, including clothes, hairstyles, accessories, and buy mode objects!

You’ve probably already guessed that I have A LOT to say about this set, so please, follow me after the cut! 💖

Hope you like it, enjoy!

In this compilation are included sets, mini-sets and standalone pieces that the original creator made! Posepacks, patterns, mods, and pieces categorized as “modern” are not included! HistoricalSimsLife has a lot of 3T4 conversions, and naturally they're also not included EXCEPT for the ones that are mesh edits (e.g. here and here)! TSM to 4 conversions are also not included, as you can find every item converted to TS3 here by votenga! I also re-converted CC that I had previously converted before, such as the printing press set and the dandy suit!

————— —————

I'll link the CC just so you know what I'm talking about!

Known Problems:

Most of the time the sleeping animation that comes with the One With Nature mod looks off when making your sim sleep under the prehistoric lean-to shelter. I'm not sure why but instead of sleeping horizontally they sleep vertically, so they clip with the branches that are on the floor. Two times while I was testing they slept horizontally tho, so I'm not sure if I can fix it. Sorry!!

The drawer (chest) of the Kativip Library set doesn't have an animation!

The telescope's eyepiece looks a bit off when a sim is using it. The way the mesh is made is very different from ts3's telescopes, and it would be quite hard to make it looks seamless and also it wouldn't look good, as ts3's telescopes all look kinda silly imo hahah. Hope you don't mind it very much!

The celtic cape might clip depending on the clothes being used and the animation being played!

The round weave rug of the Rustic Living Set generates some white lines when zooming really far out. I thought it was UV map, but I tweaked it and they're still showing up. It's only apparent if you look closely tho!

LIGHTING GLITCHES ONLY APPEAR ON CAS!

* Note that teens and elders have neck gaps. This is sadly the price for having them available! For teens, try using this and this slider by gruesim!

Please let me know if you find any problems!

————— —————

ALL OG CREDITS GO T​O @historicalsimslife, Kativip and EA/Maxis! IT'S NOT MY MESHES, AND IT’S NOT MY TEXTURES, I JUST CONVERTED THEM TO THE SIMS 3!

————— —————  

Buckle up now...

NOTES & INFO:

The whole catalogue is quite low-poly and gameplay friendly, so don’t worry about that!

The whole catalogue is categorized into folders once you extract the zip, so you can pick and choose if you're playing in a specific era!

The buy mode items have collection files so you can find them a lot easier (except for the crib, the map painting and the aztek sink)! Just put them inside your "collections" folder in ts3's documents folder!

I highly recommend using the One With Nature mod by @spheresims while using the prehistoric collection!

The printing press letter plate works as a functional computer, and it's categorized as so!

The printing press desk and chair both have 4 matching presets! They're all different wood presets!

The hollow food storage works as a functional fridge for your prehistoric sims!

The Pile of Rocks cave works as, you guessed it, a cave! Actually no lol, it works as a tent, and your sims can sleep inside! It also has 5 presets, all stone textures, first one is an overlay, the rest is recolorable!

The sleeping underlay works as a sleeping bag! It has 2 recolorable presets!

The Skyrim lean-to has 2 presets! First one has an overlay texture, second one is recolorable!

The prehistoric lean-to shelter has 7 presets. The last one (fur) is recolorable, the others are overlays!

The rustic living set has two bed frames (single and double bed) and two matresses! All you need to do is to put the bed frame first, and then the matress on top of it, now you have two separate objects that can be customized!

The weave rug has 6 recolorable presets!

The round weave rug has 7 presets, and they're all combinations of recolorable and overlayed parts!

Both love seats and both bed frames of the rustic living set have 3 presets, different types of wood! Not recolorable.

The matresses also have 3 presets, they're combinations of overlayed and recolorable parts!

The old map painting has 4 non-recolorable presets!

The aztek sink has 4 presets, and they're combinations of overlayed and recolorables parts except for the last one! It also works as a functional sink!

The two empty boockases of the Katvip library set work as displays, so there are many slots for you to put decor on!

All hats/caps are hat-slider compatible and unissex!

The Dandy Lady hat (renamed it from ts3's hairstyle) has 3 different versions: One with feathers (that I made), one without them, and one without feathers nor decorations (renamed as Gone to Riding Hat)! You need to have V1 installed for the textures of the other two to show up, as they're linked!

The maid dress has 4 different versions (i know the post says 3 but it's 4 lol), as you can see on the preview! They work just like the Dandy Lady hat, above!

The Pirate Dress has an overlay you can find in accessories! Using it with the outfit you can recolor the belt and the buckle! If you don't use the accessory, those parts will just be a usual overlay texture!

You need to use a no feet mesh to use the Boy's 1700s Frock Coat, you can find one here!

The Boy's 1700s Frock Coat has has an overlay accessory, same thing as the Pirate Dress! With it you can recolor the belt, the pockets and the buckle!

The Edwardian Tea In The Garden dress has 6 presets, 5 of them are floral overlays, and the last one is a solid version.

The Regency Morning Dress has 11 presets. First one is a solid version, the last four are patterned overlays, and the rest are recolorable patterns.

The Ester Wedding Dress has 4 recolorable presets, the patterns of the bodice change!

The Simply Rococo Dress has 15 totally recolorable patterned presets!

The Embroided Rococo Dress has 2 presets: the first one is the original texture as an overlay, and the second one is a recolorable version of it (though not as good, since it's a very complicated texture).

The Vintage Men's Exercise Outfit has 6 patterned presets, all recolorable!

The Edwardian Men's underwear and the Edwardian Men's nightgown both have 2 presets, one striped and one solid. Both recolorable!

The Dandy Suit has 9 presets, first one's solid and the rest are patterned, all recolorable!

The Celtic Warrior Outfit has 2 presets. In the first one the plaid is an overlay, original texture. In the second one you can change it however you want using CASt!

The Bodacious Boy Suit has 2 presets! The mask is different, so you can recolour different parts!

The Vintage Girl's Dress With Bows has 8 presets, one of them is a solid version, another one is a recolorable patterned preset, and the rest are patterned overlays!

The Colonial Living Girl's Dress has 5 presets, last one is a solid recolorable version, and the rest are patterned overlays!

The Victorian Tweed Dress Top has 6 presets. The last one is a totally recolorable preset, the other 5 are overlay presets!

The Celtic Dress Top has 2 presets. First one is a long sleeved version, and the second is a vest like top with long sleeved white shirt underneath. Both recolorable!

The Victorian Tweed Dress Skirt has 6 presets, same thing as the top!

The Celtic Dress Skirt has 2 presets. First one has an apron with it, and the second one doesn't! Both recolorable.

I think that’s all haha! Now to the download! <3

G-Drive |  Dropbox

☕  buy me a coffee or become a patron!

————— —————

Credits & Special Thanks:

@historicalsimslife, Kativip and EA/Maxis for all the meshes and textures! Check out the full catalogue here!

Thank you @deniisu-sims, @suteflower, @sideshowsnob and @twinsimming for the general support (and help, where needed lol) when creating this collection!

💖 @eternalccfinds @katsujiiccfinds @sisilou @darkccfinds @xto3conversionsfinds @wanderingsimsfinds

[imnotshua]

progress report: i am missing you to death - jww

٠࣪⭑ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: it's 2006 - you and wonwoo are better off as lovers ٠࣪⭑ genre: childhood friends to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, college au ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact with me, i'll block you. ٠࣪⭑ warnings: swearing, drinking, undefined relationships, mutual pining. idiots in love. my babies are flawed and that's okay because so are real people. reader and wonwoo are just stupid regular people who say and do stupid regular things, it is intentional, please love them anyway. they are both down bad. occasional use of pet names (baby & pretty), no use of y/n or other variations, plot and smut, mention of historical bullying, but nothing graphic or extreme. ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: gendered terms, kisses (lots), fingering (pussy + mouths), oral (f & m receiving), no condoms but reader is on BC, sloppy, soooo much hand holding, sex!!!!!, hickeys, neediness <333333, all in all they are quite soft and disgustingly into each other. if you think i've forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 17.7k - complete ٠࣪⭑ a/n: this work is the main instalment from my series sorry every song's about you. it’s complete on its own and can be read without the others. there’s a prequel already posted, it’ll be linked at the end and can be found on the series masterlist linked above. you choose the order you want to read them in. future fics for this couple will be non-linear and feature different stages of their lives. the title comes from Fall Out Boy’s I slept with someone in Fall Out Boy and all I got was this stupid song written about me. I have a playlist linked on the series masterlist if you happen to be into that. ٠࣪⭑ thank yous: to my loves, @100vern and @starlightkyeom– thank you for reading this in fragments, over and over again until i got it right. jewel again, thank you for the banner. i appreciate and love you both beyond belief. to @c-oupsie thank you for catching my errors and shouting at me about these two idiots in my dms, i love yelling, i appreciate you. to @daechwitatamic thank you for encouraging me, i appreciate you and your shouting too! to everyone who reads, thank you for coming to my little corner, i hope you enjoy this one.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

January 2006

Wonwoo got the last choice for film night. He’d put on some period drama to make up for the torture he put you through earlier (another horror movie), one that’ll make you cry very soon probably, and sets the re-filled popcorn bowl between your legs. You pass him a bottle that he opens with his teeth, because for some reason you always forget to bring an opener from the kitchen, and once you’re tucked up in the blanket, with his thigh pressed against the side of yours, it feels too wrong to move. 

It’s routine. It’s good. It’s been this way since school. Every Tuesday is reserved for taking up each other's space. Tuesday– because who else makes plans on Tuesdays? Watching movie after movie in his apartment until it gets too late to go home, and you sleep here. Can’t get interrupted on a Tuesday. (The only time you press pause is when either of you are dating someone, the last was Siyeon several months ago. You liked her, but Wonwoo never really talked about why he ended it.) You have a half hearted fight over who takes the sofa, but you always win out in the end. Wonwoo brings you pillows and pyjamas that smell like his laundry powder. It’s fine. It’s nice. 

The problem is that lately your feelings have been running away with themselves again. You’re not sure how it started anew, or if they ever even fully went away, but the affection you have for him swirls, neglected and nameless, in your stomach. All Wonwoo has to do is smile in your direction and you melt. Made worse tenfold every time he holds your hand. It’s not often. Just when a particularly horrible scene comes on, and your spine goes rigid and you hold your breath, he’ll reach over, wrap his fingers around yours and use his thumb to work the tension out of your knuckles. He’s so good like this. You’ll take all the horror movies he wants for these soft moments, even though they make everything worse. He’s your best friend, and you’ve tried this two too many times. You never properly talked about the last time, the second time, four years ago.

(It’s like these feelings come in cycles.)

The end began with a sickness bug that stretched several days, and ended with a clipped voicemail, Wonwoo’s quiet contemplation obvious through the tinny sound of the recording, saying he wants to just be friends, saying he didn’t want to ruin what you have. That he cares about you so deeply that your friendship needs preserving over everything else. Yes, it hurt. God– it hurts. But you’d rather have him in your life in these half measures, than not at all. 

His hand is on his leg now. You could touch but you won’t. What’s happening on screen isn’t the right kind of scary for holding Wonwoo’s hand. Just Laurie telling Jo he loves her, and Jo telling him she doesn’t. Not in that way. You sink onto your side, hardly watching the screen through fuzzy eyes. Wonwoo chuckles softly as he looks over. 

“Are you crying?”

“No–” you say, voice thick.

“Oh you are,” he says, leaning over to stroke your hair. 

“Don’t touch me right now, Wonwoo,” you warn. “I’ll bite you.”

“Freak.” He laughs and pulls his hand back. “Shit–”

“What?”

It’s obvious what. Wonwoo has knocked over the mostly-full bottle that was tucked between you, and it’s soaking into the seat. 

You jump up to grab some paper towels from the kitchen, and when you come back Wonwoo is stripping the covers from the cushions. “Fuck, it’s soaked. I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” you ask, patting the excess liquid from the cushions. ‘It’s your sofa.”

“Yeah but it’s your bed.”

“Who says I was even gonna stay?” you joke.

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll call a taxi.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “It’s one AM, you’re not going home now.” 

You laugh. “And where, pray tell, am I going to sleep?”

“My room,” he says, without any idea how the thought of that has been floating through your mind for weeks. You haven’t slept in there since– since– “Hansol’s on the night shift, I’ll take his.”

You chew on the fat of your cheek. “Okay, sure. That works.”

There’s a knock at the half open door an hour later. “I’m so sorry,” Wonwoo whispers. “I can’t sleep.”

“Does it smell again?”

“It’s like something died in there. And there’s crumbs in the bed.”

Okay. Okay. It’s fine.

Wonwoo slips into the bed next to you, pulls the sheets right up to his shoulders even though he must be boiling in those pyjamas. Maybe he’s feeling strange about this, too. You turn on your side to find him watching your face already, cautious eyes and words unsaid on his lips. 

“Is this okay?” you ask. “Is this too weird?”

“Not weird,” he says. A pause. “A little weird. It’s been a while.” He reaches for your hand and you let him take it. Dummy.

“Do you think Jo and Laurie should’ve ended up together?” Wonwoo asks, after a minute. 

“She didn’t love him.”

“Wouldn’t it have been a better story if she had?”

“Maybe, but it wouldn’t have been them then, right? Jo and Laurie in love would’ve been different people entirely.”

Here he is, fingers entwined with yours and much too close. Here you are, four years older and not at all wiser. You are Laurie, pathetic and yearning, and Wonwoo doesn’t seem to get that he’s Jo, and that sometimes his tenderness makes you ache. 

“Goodnight, best friend,” he says.

Some things shouldn’t change even when they do. 

“Goodnight, best friend,” you say. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hansol opens the bedroom door at just past six AM. He clocks the bed, the lump under the sheets, the just visible hair, face hidden by Wonwoo’s shoulder. He locks eyes with Wonwoo, who has been laid wide awake for the better part of an hour, trying not to move lest he wakes you too, and mouths Who’s that?

Wonwoo mouths back your name, and Hansol’s jaw hangs open. He makes a crude gesture with his hands, and raises curious eyebrows. Wonwoo gives him the finger. 

A little later, while you’re attempting to rush out the door for a seminar, Hansol is shovelling cereal in his mouth, and Wonwoo is sitting at the table with a coffee. Hansol asks around a mouthful of Frosties– “so, are you two fucking again?”

“What? No.”

Hansol swallows loudly, frowning confused. “What’s the wet patch on the couch?”

“Ew– it’s beer, you weirdo.” You’re staring at Hansol in disbelief. “Even if we were hooking up I don’t fuck on shared furniture.”

Wonwoo suppresses a choke on his coffee. You throw him a pointed look, lips twisting with the effort of trying not to laugh.

(You and he did, once, on the aforementioned sofa.)

“Why did you sleep in his–” Hansol gestures with an accusing spoon at Wonwoo. “–bed, then?”

“Because it smells like a skunk shat in your room, Hansol, maybe you should wash your arsehole once in a while.”

“I’m squeaky clean, buddy.”

“I doubt that, pal.”

Hansol laughs. He’s loving this. “You need to get laid so badly, shall I help find someone big and strong to pull that gigantic stick out your a–”

“Oh my God, please shut up,” Wonwoo interrupts. “It’s so weird you two are related, who talks with their cousins like this?”

“Second cousins,” you and Hansol correct in unison.

“Just to clarify– you’re not together again?”

You roll your eyes so hard all Wonwoo can see is white. “We weren’t ever together,” you say, exasperated. “We’ve been over this before.”

Wonwoo rubs his eyes under his glasses. “You’re going to be late,” he says to you.

You look at your watch. “Shit– bye best friend, call me tomorrow. Smell you later, Hansol.”

You’re already halfway out the door, and Hansol is calling after you, “Gonna find you a boyfriend! That’s a warning!” 

When the door clicks closed, Hansol turns on Wonwoo. “You’re donezo, I guess?”

Wonwoo sips his coffee. “Never started-zo.”

That sounded less stupid in his head.

Grinning wide, Hansol says, “You won’t mind if I introduce her to Minghao, then?”

Wonwoo presses his forehead against the table and tries to consider how much Hansol’s parents would miss him if he were to flush their son down the toilet. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

February 2006

Wonwoo hovers his cursor over the Submit button. He hesitates. Could remove one of the options, the long shot, and replace it with something more achievable. He’s not going to get it, and if he did he’s under no obligation to take it. It’s more for his ego than anything else, he tells himself. But Professor Lee had insisted he throw his hat in the ring, so he does, and tries not to panic over having made a horrible error of judgement once he clicks submit, because now it’s too late– it’s in the ether. 

You turn over in your sleep, uncomfy in the ball you’d tucked yourself into before drifting off, and your leg unfurls over him, seeking warmth and closeness. Wonwoo sets his laptop on the nightstand, and shifts down carefully next to you. It’s nights like these that Wonwoo is convinced that his life isn’t really real. Because isn’t it some funny joke that you’re here next to him like this, and you’re both still worlds apart. Touches are considered and well-mannered, despite how they used to be. But here you are in your ridiculous Pompompurin pyjamas and he wonders if you ever think about the last time you wore these with him. Probably not. It wouldn’t be considered memorable to anyone else, he thinks. Just a late breakfast in bed, that turned into non-stop talking, that turned silly, peppered kisses into lazy, deepened ones, forgoing lunch in favour of laying together, just close, in ways not completely unlike you are now. In some parallel universe, in some other life, this could still be happening in the way it was meant to. 

Wonwoo considers how well he really knows you now, if it’s less than before, if your favourite colour is still the same as it was when you were children together. There are some questions you don’t think to ask your best friend of twenty years, because it’s expected you’ll already know. Unfortunately, Wonwoo knows nothing of the things inside your head, and someday you’ll find out. Tomorrow he’s going to ask what your favourite colour is, and hopefully that someday won’t be anytime soon. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wonwoo surprises you when he picks up the phone on a Friday evening. 

“Oh– hello. I was preparing to leave you a message. Aren’t you playing WoW?”

“Runescape,” he says. “Just getting snacks. What’s up?”

“Mum called, said I’ve got a letter there about our class reunion next month, the eighteenth.”

“Ah yeah, Jihoon mentioned that it was coming up.”

“You wanna go? I could rent a car.”

“Oh so you’re volunteering me as the driver?” You can hear Wonwoo’s smile through the phone. “When are you planning on getting your licence?”

You pout, even though he can’t see you. “Come onnn, won’t it be fun? I promise I’ll be good company.”

Wonwoo laughs. “How good?”

“I’ll bring the snacks.”

“Uh huh–”

“And I’ll burn three new CDs.”

“Four.”

“And I’ll burn four new CDs.”

“Okay, getting closer.”

“And, uh– honestly that's all I had.” You wrack your brain and come up with nothing of substance. “I’ll uh– I’ll hype you up in front of that girl you had a crush on. Whatsername? The cheerleader. God, it’s on the tip of my tongue–”

“Who are you talking about?”

“The girl– that girl you liked once. The one with the hair–”

“I genuinely have no idea who you mean.” He does sound confused, actually. 

“Damn,” you say. “That’s all my bargaining chips.”

“Damn,” he echoes, with a click of his tongue. “Guess you’ll have to take me to dinner if you can’t remember who my mystery girl is.”

“So you’ll drive us?”

“Rent the car.”

“Thanks dear, you’re a real friend,” you sing-song. “Love you, see y–”

“Wait,” he says. “Wanna come over and play Mario Kart?

“Right now?”

“Yeah, you can stay the weekend. If you want.”

There was a phrase Wonwoo’s dad always used to use for the pair of you. Birds of a feather flock together. You’re flocking so often you hardly have to think about it. Just comes naturally. Nothing else is going on, and a weekend playing games and eating out of Wonwoo’s fridge instead of your own is a decent offering. Maybe he’ll have rented that film he talked about last week. The Descent? You’ll tolerate it, if he’ll squeeze your hand through the awful parts. 

“Sure, okay. I’ll pack a bag.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

March 2006

The last weeks of winter feel too long, but today there is a breath of warmth in the air and it feels good good good. March is always the best time of year for dreaming, you think. Feels especially good when you’re watching 28 Days Later, and Wonwoo holds your hand through the whole thing. It’s not even as scary as the others he’s had you sit through, but holding his hand feels nice. Every Tuesday since Little Women has ended in his bed. Feels like old times, without any of the touching and all of the one sided angst. 

When it’s your turn, Wonwoo groans at the sight of the Sense and Sensibility box, but it’s gently done.

“You cannot complain when we’ve been watching horror every week lately,” you admonish, pointing at him with one of your fries. He bites at it and you throw the remaining half at his face. “You know I hate them.” 

Wonwoo grins. “You should complain more, then.”

You hum your agreement. “Well it’s because I’m so selfless that I don’t, you see.”

“Sure, sure,” Wonwoo laughs. His laugh is so lovely. “That’s why you’re taking up my entire bed every Tuesday night.” 

You scoff. “I sleep very mindfully, actually. I even curl into a little ball so your giraffe legs have enough space.” 

“Is that so?” Wonwoo tugs at the material of your (his) pyjama bottoms. “Then explain why I’ve woken up with your legs draped over me every time?”

You blink. Can feel the heat on your ears. Thank God it’s dark. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

A pause. 

“I don’t mind,” he says. Quiet. Suddenly too serious. You can’t look at him. “You’ve always slept like that.” 

“Movie’s starting,” you say. And that’s that. 

Later, Wonwoo squeezes in beside you in his tiny bathroom to brush his teeth. He bumps his hip into your side, smiles at you in the mirror, and it feels so horribly domestic you might actually throw up. It doesn’t make sense what you’re doing. 

When you finish brushing your teeth you look down the hallway to the sofa, think briefly about taking it, but Wonwoo steps out behind you, tugs on your sleeve and asks if you’re coming to bed. There’s toothpaste on the corner of his lip. This time four years ago you would’ve wiped it away. Now you just tap at the corner of your own, say got something there and let Wonwoo sort himself out. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s a rare Tuesday that Hansol is home. He takes Wonwoo’s usual spot next to you, showing you pictures of some guy on his laptop while Wonwoo is fetching drinks and snacks from the kitchen, and when he comes back in the room he blinks, surprised that he’s been relegated to the armchair. He leans over the arm of the sofa to peer at the Myspace profile loaded on Hansol’s screen. 

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Hansol here is trying to get me a date.”

“Am not,” Hansol rebuts. “Though if I were, is he the sort of guy you’d be interested in?”

“Uh–”

Wonwoo’s sharp laugh sounds like a bark. “No, Soonyoung is not her type.”

You swat at him. “What would you know about my type? None of my exes have been remotely similar. He’s hot.”

“Sure, but he’s not for you,” Wonwoo insists. “He’s not serious about anything–”

Hansol sighs, dejected. “We’re never gonna get him laid–“

You stare at the screen. “And apparently he’s a virgin–”

“Don’t shame him,” Hansol says flatly.

“I’m not! It’s just surprising, that’s all!”

“Okay, fine, what about this guy–” He’s already closing off his profile and loading another. It’s all grunge and dark compared to the neon green garishness of the previous. He’s tall, long dark hair, painted nails. That’s all you get to see before Wonwoo is snapping the laptop closed. 

“I’m putting on the movie now, guests choice first.”

“Who pissed in your cereal?” asks Hansol.

Wonwoo doesn’t answer. Just flops into the chair opposite, jaw tight, eyes burning holes into the title screen on the TV.

Pride and Prejudice begins, and no less than five minutes in, Hansol sags against the back of the sofa. “Borrrrring. Can we watch Shrek instead?”

Wonwoo glances at you, and you shrug. Hansol takes that as a yes, and disappears off to his room to dig out the DVD from underneath the mess. 

“We can watch it another time,” Wonwoo offers. But you don’t care about that. You’re wondering if Wonwoo is keeping his secrets again. If Hansol knew much about your past, more than the hooking up, more to do with the depth of the feelings you once had for each other, would he be trying to set you up with his and Wonwoo’s friends, right in front of him?

Later, you lay in Wonwoo’s bed and ask why he isn’t dating anyone. He’s on the verge of sleep, can hear it with how low his voice is, how soft. 

“Don’t wanna,” he hums, eyes closed. “M’happy as I am.”

Ah.

“Why aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I what?”

“Dating someone.”

“Well I’ve got terribly high standards, you see.”

Wonwoo laughs, grins lazy and sweet. “Not high enough. All your partners have been awful.”

“Not all of them,” you argue.

“Name one.” His big brown eyes open just enough for him to level you with them.

You could say anything. Anything. You could say what you really mean, and it could be okay. It could not, too. 

“Remember Park Sungkyu? He was pretty great.”

Wonwoo tickles your middle, and you yelp, swatting at him and suppressing a giggle. “Boys from when we were six don’t count.”

“He gave me a crown for my birthdayyy!” you sing-song. “He called me his Princess.” Wonwoo tickles you again and you jolt.

“Okay, okay, you’re right! I have terrible taste! Now stop torturing me, you freak.”

“Whatever Her Majesty desires.” 

You kick him in the shin in exaggerated outrage but all Wonwoo does is smile wide, grossly pleased with himself. He’s beautiful like this.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s the weekend and you’re watching Pride and Prejudice from Wonwoo’s bed. Hansol has taken over the living room with a group of friends, and their yelling is so loud it feels like they’re right outside the door. It’s the final game for something or other, you didn’t really listen. It’s unseasonably warm, and though the window is thrust open the air hangs still and heavy in this room. You’re laid shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, sheets pushed down to your feet. Occasionally, his thigh brushes yours and it’s nice. His hand twists, palm up, and his thumb strokes your wrist. You like how it feels deliberate. 

It gets to the part where Elizabeth turns down Mr Darcy’s proposal and Wonwoo sniffs. You near snap your neck to look at him. “Are you crying?”

“No.”

“You are. Your eyes are all watery.”

He gestures at the screen. “This is fucked up. They could just talk to each other.”

You shrug, turning back to the screen. Elizabeth finishes up her speech, Mr Darcy looks at her lips, they lean in and hold back. The desperation in his voice, his breathy please, has your chest knotted tight and uncomfortable. “Without a little miscommunication there wouldn’t be any story at all,” you say. 

“Love doesn’t need to be a story,” says Wonwoo, flat. “It could just be.”

“But then we wouldn’t have films, my dearest friend. And all this yearning makes me feel alive.”

Wonwoo knocks his foot against yours, and you nudge him back. More cheers from down the hall. 

“I hate yearning. Makes me feel sick.”

You laugh then, rolling onto your side and looking over at him. Your heart is thumping so loud he can surely hear it. Don’t say it. Don’t push. “What have you ever yearned for?” 

Fuck. What a stupid thing to say.

He doesn’t look at you. Rolls his bottom lip between his teeth and clams up. “Nothing. Nevermind.” And there it is. He’ll touch on his terms and won’t give the feeling a name. He pushes up from the bed. “Want ice cream?”

“No,” you grumble, slipping down flat on the bed and stretching out your arms, eyes fluttering shut to tuck up the feeling in them. “Wanna sleep. This weather makes me tired.”

“Let's sleep then,” he says. “We can finish the rest in the morning.” He shuts off his laptop and makes to take off his t-shirt, but stops, clearly thinking better of it. 

You poke his arm. “I don’t mind if you want to sleep without it. It’s boiling.” 

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. Nothing I haven’t seen before anyway.” 

His shoulders go all stiff for a second. Stupid.

“Aren’t you warm too?”

Yes. The sweat is starting to make your shirt stick to your skin. “No, I’m okay.”

Wonwoo shrugs off his clothes, tosses them to the chair (keeps his underwear on even though he usually wouldn’t, as some attempt at consideration for the blockades between you ever since– since before) and lays down. Your eyes meet in the half-dark for a moment, and there is something unwritten in his expression. The backs of your hands brush, and it’s still not the right kind of scary to make this touch okay. You can feel the warmth beaming out of him, and you almost tell him how lovely he looks with his skin all flushed and shiny like this. But then he turns his back on you, whispers goodnight, best friend to the wall, and you hold your breath for a moment, while you sink into the depths of your wanting. 

You can’t be the one to bring up the possibility of you, together, again. It’s too humiliating. You should let this go. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Thanks to traffic the drive takes longer than expected. It doesn’t matter. Despite burning six CDs, and stealing four from Hansol’s collection, Wonwoo has you play From Under the Cork Tree twice in the first half of the drive. For the first two hours you talk non-stop, the next is taken up speculating on and placing bets on the lives of the classmates you haven’t already reconnected with on Facebook. You spend the fourth half-snoozing, while Wonwoo hums along to Snow Patrol. He’s gently singing the wrong lyrics to Set Fire to the Third Bar, when Jihoon calls your mobile. 

“Hi Jihoon,” you murmur, and then holding up the phone to Wonwoo’s ear– “Say hi.”

“Hi Jihoon,” says Wonwoo obediently. “We’re still two hours away– shitty traffic.” 

You take the phone back, and say, “Are we meeting you there tonight or do you guys wanna come pregame with us and Wonwoo’s parents?”

Jihoon laughs. “How much pregaming are we talking?”

“I need at least two drinks before I set foot in the same room as Choi Hwangyu.”

“Haven’t you let that whole mortal enemies thing go yet?”

“Never,” you assert, crossing your heart. Wonwoo laughs. “It’s a mutual hatred that will last for all eternity.”

“You know– ‘all eternity’ is a redundant phr–”

“Oh my Godddd.”

You settle on the plan for the evening quickly. You and Wonwoo will have dinner with his parents, change into something that smells less like rental car and chilli Doritos, and Jihoon and Iseul will meet you at the pub before heading to the venue near your old school. 

You flip the phone to end the call, and Wonwoo reaches over to squeeze your knee. 

“You gonna be okay? Seeing him?”

It started off as just a bunch of guys being dickheads, nothing too worthy of note. Hwangyu took it further. Snapping your bra strap in the middle of class, spilling drinks over your shirt in front of the entire lunch hall, spreading baseless rumours about boys you’d supposedly hooked up with. Once he started telling people you blew him in the chemistry lab during lunch break, Wonwoo and Jihoon stopped taking notice of your asking them to not intervene and “had words” after school. Wonwoo didn’t walk you home that day– had his friend from the year below, Mingyu, walk you instead. Jihoon told you not to ask so you never did, but just like that Hwangyu stopped giving you grief. Even back then you hated the fact that it took other guys to get him to leave you alone. Patriarchy rules even at the turn of the twenty-first century. How gross.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I looked him up a few days ago. Guess what?”

“He’s divorced?”

“Divorced thrice.”

Wonwoo laughs. “We’re twenty-six, how does someone find the time to get married to and divorced from three different people?”

“We could’ve been married already had we not spent eight years fucking around at university.” You’re laughing until you notice Wonwoo’s eyebrows pinch in the middle, a weird lopsided smile on his face, and you realise what you just said. You cough. “Not we. You know what I mean. My question was more how did he find three separate people who want to fuck him?”

“Urgh, I’d rather not have that visual, thanks.”

Snow Patrol wraps up, and you dig out the CD case from under your feet. “Okay, what next? Arctic Monkeys or My Chemical Romance?”

“Can we have Fall Out Boy again?”

“Oh my G–”

“I really liked that fifth one.” 

You fiddle taking Snow Patrol out the player and popping Fall Out Boy back in, trying not to scratch their bottoms. 

“Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner? Yeah, it’s my second favourite.”

“What’s your first?” asks Wonwoo.

“XO, the last one.” You tip your head back against the headrest, close your eyes, listen to Wonwoo sing, and wonder if it’s him or the music that makes your heart beat faster. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s fun, really. Catching up with all these people you haven’t seen in eight years, and Jihoon and Iseul, who you last saw seven months ago, and Wonwoo, who you see all the time. After your first rounds, the four of you huddle at the table on the furthest edge of the room, Iseul tells you about how her job is having her relocate to your city, and could you show her around (you will—of course you will. The idea of your old friend being there in your home makes you giddy, and Wonwoo laughs when you clap your hands in excitement.), Jihoon tells you all about his latest projects, and you and Wonwoo catch them both up on your studies. Eventually the group breaks off, Wonwoo to the bathroom, Jihoon to the bar, and Iseul spots another friend across the room, and darts off with a promise to be right back. 

You take the moment of quiet to check your texts. Mingyu and Seokmin have heard you’re in town, they want to hang out tomorrow. Your mother wants to know if you’re staying the night with her or your father (neither, you’re staying with Wonwoo’s parents, who were far more glad to see you than your own parents would be), and Wonwoo, who has messaged from the bathroom.

Wonwoo: You’re taking me for dinner after this btw.

You: Wash your hands before texting me, you pig!

There’s a clearing of a throat behind you, and you turn, half expecting Wonwoo there saying something smart in reply, but it’s not. 

“Oh. Hello.”

Your voice is anything but friendly. It seems Hwangyu still has the same unwarranted self-assuredness that pissed you off back then, because once addressed, he settles himself into the chair just vacated by Iseul and leans into your space.

You lean back. “Can I help you?”

“Did you come with Jihoon?’

You blink stupidly. He must not recognise you.

“No.”

He smirks, lazy, out the side of his mouth. 

“Good,” he says, slow. “Can’t stand that guy.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “You’ve grown into your looks, haven’t you? Nice dress.”

There goes that hopeful theory of him not recognising you, but what in the God awful fuck is happening? Is he trying to pick you up? No apology, not even a pleasantry to speak of, just headfirst into some backhanded compliment and a sleazy smile. These men should only exist as fictional villains, not out in the real world. 

You’re trying to gather your words. The planned retorts in your head don’t work in a situation where this is the angle he’s taking. Shit. 

“I looked you up,” he says, not looking at you. Eyes darting, nervous almost, across the room. You spot his usual friend group, they’re all looking over like hyenas. “A few weeks ago.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Wanted to see if you were single. I always liked you, you know.”

The sound of your laugh takes you by surprise. Comes out more like a bark. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

He doesn’t have the good grace to look contrite. Instead he drums his chewed up fingers on his knee, and says, “Got your attention, though.”

There is stale air around him, hair already peppered at the sides. He looks older than his years, and affected. The hate isn’t eternal, because you just feel something like pity for him. Not so much that you’d forgive the way he treated you, but enough to let it go. Enough to be able to sit here and think that at least you remained kind, and three separate women divorced him before he got within touching distance of thirty. What a sad little life.

“Are you still Jeon Wonwoo’s girl?”

You roll your eyes. About to say no, the truth, because not wanting him has absolutely nothing to do with Wonwoo, and he should know that– but a hand on your shoulder stills you. “Yeah, she is,” says Jihoon, from behind you. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah. I am,” you echo, because you’re not going to let Hwangyu call your friend a liar. 

Much too slowly, Hwangyu makes his exit. Exchanges stiff pleasantries with Jihoon, and tries with Iseul who doesn’t return them (she’s a wonderful friend), and slips away to his old friends across the hall. You watch– they clap him on the shoulder, jeer at him, make faces like a twelve year old would. Some friends.

Jihoon and Iseul sit back down in their respective seats. Exchange a look, and you heave a frustrated sigh, just before Wonwoo returns from the bathroom. His eyes flick between you, catching the smell of the tension, and sinks slowly into his seat next to yours.

“What did I miss?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mingyu and Seokmin are playing pool, badly. You can hear their yelling from all the way over here. Someone has started playing Boyz II Men on the jukebox. Jihoon is drunk, sings along to the words. His voice has always been pretty. Iseul joins in, and hers is less so, but it’s so fun to watch them together. 

‘I know the colour of love

And it lives inside of you

I know the colour of truth

It's in the image of you’

They’re another set of friends who could have been, but didn’t. It’s a shame they could never figure it out. You and Wonwoo clink your bottles together, take a sip, and Wonwoo lets you lean against him. His arm rests on the bench behind your back, his hand on your shoulder. He’s a little drunk, as are you, and it’s nice to be home and in all your old haunts.

You rest the back of your head in the crook of his neck, and ask him what he thinks the colour of love is. 

Wonwoo hums in thought, runs his thumb along the length of your shoulder blade. “I don’t know, I’ll need to think about it. What do you think it is?”

“It’s pink.”

“Why?”

Blush pink, soft, and subtle, and sweet. The colour of his cheeks when he’s shy. The colour of the soft sweater he wore one time, while you were walking along the river and he was happy and goofy and lovely, swinging your clasped hands high in the sky. The colour of the flowers he buys for your birthday, the same kind (your favourite) every year without fail. His corsage on prom night. The fuzzy feeling you get in your stomach when he laughs is pink. Painted clouds at sunset, lovehearts, strawberries, the Milky Way, cherry blossoms. Pink is the colour of hopeless romantics, and the colour of the Wonwoo shaped hole in your heart. 

He taps you, gentle. “Get distracted?” he asks. You nod. “Drunk?” 

“Getting there.”

“Why pink?”

It’s too much to say. “Valentines Day. Duh.”

Britney Spears comes on the jukebox. Iseul squeals loud and drags you up to dance. Wonwoo watches you, his smile beaming, and you can hardly look at him. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later, when Wonwoo lays in bed (the air mattress on the floor of his childhood bedroom), he’s still mulling over your question. Your arm is hanging over the edge of his old bed, fingers close enough to touch. He doesn’t. You’d fallen fast asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. 

Wonwoo thinks about when you were children. Digging in the grass, plucking leaves from trees (Biggest one wins! Wins what? I dunno, a promise?), the first shoots of the tulips you and he planted in your grandfather's garden. He’s had so many shared firsts with you. There was no obligation, no forced time spent, just two kids who chose the comfort of one another over everyone else. It’s really something that you’ve still stuck like glue, all these years, as you’ve grown and reincarnated into several different people. Every time, you’ve chosen each other, even when it didn’t work. 

The colour of love is green. It’s in all those moments he felt most free. Like anything could happen. Like everything is fresh and new and an adventure to be had. It’s in the wig you wore for Halloween one year, and you made him laugh so hard he cried. It’s in the way you ground him when his heart is racing, when you drag him outside to stand in the park, make him kick off his shoes and socks and stand on the grass to feel the earth beneath his body. He always feels silly until it works. It’s in the bauble you painted for his parents when you were eight, tucked away for safekeeping in the attic, brought out every December to hang on the tree. It’s the colour of the blanket his mother knitted you years ago, that you still keep, spread out on top of your bed. His colour is in the dress you wore the very first time, and in another one, more sensible and grown, that you wore last night. His colour is all his moments with you. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

April 2006

“If I have to move to Busan you’ll come visit me, right?”

You purse your lips and hum loud for dramatic effect. Wonwoo throws a cushion at your face, and you laugh, swatting at him and missing by a mile. 

You’re laying down with your bare feet in his lap, while Wonwoo balances his laptop precariously on the arm of the sofa to check on his applications. The news trickles slowly, only a few people have heard back, so far. You’re almost done with your program, and Wonwoo is just about to start. People have called him a late bloomer before, but he just takes a little while to come around. Needs it to be a sure thing before he gets his head out of the sand. He’s starting to realise that in the grand scheme of things, it hardly matters. 

“Say yes.”

“I’ll have to get my drivers licence,” you say, thinking possibilities out loud. “But sure, I’ll get the train in the meantime.”

You push up and lean over him to peer at his screen, place your hand on his bicep for balance. Wonwoo tries not to think too much about it.

“Where else did you apply?” you ask, scanning the page.

Wonwoo lists off. “SNU, KNUH, PNU–” 

“Cambridge?” Your voice is small, and he hates it. “I didn’t know you still wanted to go.”

Wonwoo shrugs. He does. Cambridge had been a fantasy for a while, all his adult life and then some, and the research fellow for the Keros Project couldn’t be a better opportunity. Six months in Greece, five in England. But also he doesn’t. Both because you’re his constant, and this is new ground. What if he leaves? Even if it’s just Busan– if he leaves this city, would you still be birds?

He won’t get in.

“I won’t get in.”

“But you applied?”

“Professor Lee insisted,” Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed and already sick of hearing himself talk about it. “He said he’d kill me if I didn’t try. Seriously though, they only take a few applicants. It’s not going to be me. It’ll be Busan for me, most likely.”

You’re quiet for a moment, hand still on him like you’ve forgotten all about it. 

“Cambridge would be stupid if they didn’t take you,” you say, smiling tiny and false. “Not sure how often I could visit though.”

Wonwoo’s skin feels all hot. Would crawl out of it, if he could. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hansol’s friend, Minghao (the one from Myspace) is in the arts. It suits him. He talks at length about his various projects– painting, interpretive dance, a four man performance he’s directed that will soon be playing at some hole in the wall venue (that he asks if you’d like to see. You would.) and it’s nice to be around someone that shows their interest in you so clearly. He asks about your studies and seems genuinely interested when you talk about the impact candlelight vigils have on policy making. How the government consistently underestimates its people. It’s a rare occurrence that a date takes interest in your work. Wonwoo talks with you about it all the time, of co– but that’s not– he’s not– 

It’s just different when it’s a date. 

He’s perfectly polite. Buys your coffee and holds the door. Walks on the road side of the footpath, even. Minghao would be easy for you to like. He’s funny, and thoughtful, and takes notice. He’s bold. He’s a welcome distraction. 

But Wonwoo is still there. 

He’s pressed into every crevice of your mind. He’s your past and present and only God knows if he’s in your future. Later, you call, but of course you get the answerphone– he did say yesterday that he’d be in the library all weekend. 

“Hey, Wonwoo, it’s me. Listen– will you come over when you hear this? Doesn’t matter what time. Use your key. Okay. Okay. Bye.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s late when Wonwoo lets himself in. Heard your message just after two and walked straight out the door, rode his bike all the way here. 

The apartment looks like it always does. He’s hardly spent much time here in recent years, save for the occasional lingering in the living room before heading out somewhere neutral. Doesn’t feel right being in your space anymore, not after how it all ended last time, with water brash in his mouth. He still thinks about that. It’s why movie night is only ever at his place. So when you called and asked him to be here, to use his key, he knew something was awry. 

Seoyoung, your new-ish roommate, is in the living room, sitting on the ledge and blowing smoke out the window. She moved in about four months ago and you’ve quickly become good friends. She looks up at Wonwoo and waves, mouths she’s asleep and Wonwoo acknowledges with whispered “ah– thanks.”

Wonwoo knocks on your half open door, but you don’t stir, in too deep a sleep. You don’t notice the door clunk closed louder than Wonwoo intends. The mattress dips under his weight and still you don’t move. It’s only when he squeezes your hand that you blink the sleep from your eyes, puffy cheeks and always lovely. You stretch out like a cat, willing the fatigue away with a sigh that turns to a yawn, and Wonwoo feels immense guilt for having kept you waiting. More still for waking you up, but you wouldn’t have asked him to come if you didn’t want to talk right away. 

You pat the space next to you in silent invitation and Wonwoo hesitates. 

“I’m in my outdoor clothes.” 

“One of your t-shirts is in the bottom drawer,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes and pushing yourself up to rest your back against the headboard. 

Wonwoo changes in the bathroom. Washes his face and thinks about the last time he used your sink. The feelings haven’t changed, just bottled. Matured. He has a similar unease in every fibre of his body. Feels like static energy on his fingertips and he needs to rub it away. 

The silence stretches when he sinks down into the empty space of the bed. You draw patterns onto the sheets with a fingertip and stare down at the dimples you make. He wants to still your hand, to turn it over in his and ask why you called him over. Doesn’t, because you’re working up to it, can tell you’ve got tightness in your chest just by the sound of your breathing. You lean into him, sagging against his side and head tipped to rest on his shoulder. He has to stop himself pressing his lips to your crown. 

“I’m sorry I kept this,” you murmur, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. “Wear it to sleep, sometimes.”

He remembers it wasn’t in the bag of things you’d handed him, a couple of weeks after he left you that message on your answerphone. He figured it’d just been mislaid, didn’t occur to him that you’d tucked it away for yourself.  

“I don’t mind.” Always looked better on you anyway. 

You loop your arm around his. 

“I went on a date today.”

Oh.

“Minghao?”

“Yeah.”

Wonwoo nods. He could see that working. You’ve always wanted something romantic. Someone who could have nineteenth century novels written about them. Minghao seems like that type.

“He’s asked me out again.”

“Okay.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know what to say, feels like he knows where this is headed because you’ve both dated people since last time. It’s never had to be a conversation though. Movie nights become strictly group activities, any day of the week is fine. It’s okay. It’s out of respect, or whatever. 

“Should I go?”

“It’s your room,” Wonwoo deadpans.

“On the date, idiot.”

He swallows. “I don’t know. Do you like him?”

You shrug. “I could.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

“Wonwoo–” 

“We don’t talk about stuff like this.”

“We need to,” you insist. “What are we doing?”

There it is. The question he’s been dreading. The question he hoped you wouldn’t ask because he doesn’t know how to explain it. Doesn’t know how to take the feelings in his chest and wrap them neatly into words. All he wanted to do was just let it happen, if it were to happen at all, on your terms. Except now you’re asking him to give it a name, and his throat goes dry. He’s doing it again. Despite how he’s tried letting you go, despite keeping a respectable distance, he’s still managing to slip his way back in like this. Lately, Wonwoo has been wondering if he’s a narcissist, since he doesn’t even realise he’s manipulating the situation until it’s too late, and you’re saying what he can’t. You’re so much braver than he is. It wasn’t until week five (six?) of holding your hand that he realised he was choosing horror movies deliberately so he’d have a reason to touch you. It got to the point when the background music would feature its first minor key of many, and your palm would turn outwards, just waiting for him to clasp it in his and hold you through the scene. He’s given you a Pavlovian response. Isn’t that completely fucked?

“Wonwoo,” you plead. His heart jolts. “I won’t wait for you forever.”

He tips his head back against the headboard, eyes closed because he can’t bear to look at you while he admits it.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “What I’ve been doing?”

“Nothing you do makes sense to me.”

The silence feels all thick and pliable.

Quietly, he confesses. “I don’t want you to date him. Anyone, really.”

Feels as though he’s sinking into syrup. Hard to move, hard to breathe. Hears your jagged inhale and steels himself for the ripping of the plaster. 

“What do you want, Wonwoo?” 

Wonwoo is a poorly knitted scarf. All slipped stitches and fast forming holes. One tug on a loose thread and he comes apart. 

“I want to be yours.”

He doesn’t expect your touch, let alone your kiss, gentle and loving on his shoulder. When he looks at you, your eyes are big and sad. 

“I don’t want to be your secret,” you whisper, in a tiny voice, against his t-shirt. 

This is his undoing. Wraps his fingers around your wrist and insists you’re not. You’ve never been that. It’s just– he wants to keep this private, not that he loves you, but how he shows it. Feels like it should be something sacred. You blink, startled, completely taken aback.

“You love me?”

“God. Yes,” he breathes. “Didn’t you know?”

“I thought you might– I didn’t know.” You’re crying. Silent tears spilling over, fingers plucking at a hangnail on your thumb and this is the worst. His heart aches. “You’re so quiet, how could I know anything for sure? How long?” 

“I–” He fucked up. Oh, he fucked up so badly. He rags his hands over his face, pushes his hair back while he searches for the right way to say it. “Too long.”

“After Siyeon?”

Wonwoo sighs. His thing with Siyeon wasn’t anything real. It started as a one time thing that stretched into semi-regular hook ups. She was in love with someone else, and he was pretending he wasn’t. The whole getting over someone by getting under someone else thing doesn’t work on a heartache as sour as his, and fuck anyone who said it would, actually. 

“Before?” 

“Before.”

You suck in a breath. “Oh.”

“Since we were kids, really,” he says. “Since before we ever–”

“Oh. That’s surprising.”

Wonwoo laughs ruefully. “Is it? I feel like I was plain as day. The guys at school used to tease me for it.”

“I hate this,” you say after a moment, voice thick and sad. You rub at your face. Push away the still falling tears. “It should feel nice, shouldn’t it? You saying you love me and I just feel sad about all the wasted years. And now it feels like I forced it out of you, before you were ready. I love you too, you know. Have all this time.”

Wonwoo feels too big for his body. Like he’s full of hot air and could float right out of the window high high higher until he burns up in the atmosphere. Even still, there is that small voice in the back of Wonwoo’s mind, telling him he’s self-centered for getting what he needs, that he’s cruel for making you feel like this, selfish for wanting you just for himself. Stupid, for having wasted time. The alarm goes off– he doesn’t deserve it, your kindness, your patience, your love. When it comes to you he is, and always has been, a coward. But you’re still here grounding him, head resting against him, arms still linked, and you’re making no moves to push him out the door. 

“How can I make it better?”

You sniff. “You can tell me again when I’ve stopped crying. You can stay.” 

“Can I hold you?” Like you’re his, he doesn’t say.

You chew on your bottom lip. “Yeah. Yes. I’d like that a lot.”

Wonwoo shifts down, turns on his side and lifts the duvet for you to move into the space in front of him. You take his glasses, fold them carefully and place them on your nightstand. You slot in next to him, back to his front, his body curls around yours and you press into him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and he starts to let himself hope it could be okay. 

“Have you stopped crying yet,” he asks softly, after a while. His hand is splayed across your cotton clad stomach, one finger toying with the hem. Yours is tracing figures of eight on his forearm. 

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

For a long time, you’ve imagined it would feel like fanfare. A marching band size confession if there were to ever be one. But that’s not who he is, and it’s not what you really want. It’s better like this. Whispered sweet things. His breath warming your skin. His fingers on the soft skin of your stomach, lips on your neck. 

It feels honest. 

It feels real. 

Wonwoo turns you on your back, leans over to kiss the skin beneath your eyes. One– two– Wonwoo has always had so much love in him. It’s just quiet. You place your palm over his cheek and he leans into it. Turns to press a kiss to the centre, to your fingertips, one by one. Everything feels soft and pink and fragile. 

“Wonwoo?”

He makes a soft, curious noise. Lips still pressed to the tip of your ring finger.

“Kiss me?”

Every time holds meaning, but now it’s morphed, reincarnated into something new. Wonwoo loves you properly, and this time he’s said it out loud. The way he kisses makes everything go hazy and light and it feels like sunset. Slow and deliberate and feathered across your skin. You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling him deeper, kissing him open mouthed, and his body goes molten against you. The weight of him is exquisite. 

Wonwoo loves like moonlight. Comes in cycles, and yes, this time it’s clearer than others, but it turns out he’s always just there even when he’s not, even when it goes dark and things turn ugly, he’s still there holding your hand. There is moonlight in his eyes, now, shining and shimmering. With tenderness, Wonwoo runs his thumb over the apple of your cheek, your bottom lip, the pulse point on your neck. You slip a hand beneath his t-shirt, touch the skin there and sigh over the way he presses against you. Your hand moves down and he stills you. 

“This is embarrassing,” he murmurs. “I didn’t bring any–”

“I don’t need one if you don’t,” you whisper. “I’m on the pill now.”

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to you. “Okay.”

“Don’t you want to?”

Wonwoo buries his face in your neck, you can feel his eyelashes tickling your skin. “I always want to.”

“Then touch me.” 

He does. Works deft fingers over your middle, watches the way the goosebumps raise as he takes your warm body from your clothes. Soothes his big hands over your skin to warm you. You don’t tell him you’re already burning. He mouths over the swell of your breast, pebbles the nipple between his fingers, asks if it’s okay, like this. It’s okay. Anything he wants is okay. You tell him that– that he can do anything he wants to you, that you’re his to do as he pleases with, and he groans, a small disbelieving sound. 

“Don’t say things like that.” 

You don’t ask why. Wonwoo has always been possessive, but it’s not something he likes about himself. Hates to share but doesn’t like to take either, feels some kind of shame about it. Wears the word selfish like a chain around his neck. And so he doesn’t take at all, tries to stay content with nothing. You tried to tell him once, it’s not selfish to want things. It’s not self-centred to have your needs met. You deserve good things, too, Wonwoo. And he looked at you, both forlorn and skeptical, said something about how caged birds can forget how to fly. He never seemed to get that he’d only ever imprisoned himself. Tonight you’ll give him your body, push his shame away with your hands and your mouth, and let him have this. 

You fist your hands in his hair, drag him up by it just to crush your lips against his to kiss him messy. He groans again, a little louder, and it’s this you’ve missed the most. The way he forgets himself when he’s touching you. The way he lets go. You wiggle underneath him, let his body shift so he’s caught between your legs and you can feel how he presses against your core. You nip at his lip, toy with the waistband of his underwear. “Off,” you say, and Wonwoo complies. The t-shirt follows straight after, and his body is back on you, looking at you like you hung the moon. 

He brings a hand between your bodies, taps you almost where you want him, asks if he can touch you. Please. A finger dips inside, an open mouthed kiss, his length, hard, pressed into your thigh. Wonwoo likes things wet, and sloppy. You like whatever he likes. He gathers up the wetness inside you, smears it over your clit, brings his fingers to his mouth, closes his eyes as he tastes you on his tongue. God, what the fuck. 

“Missed you,” you say, and he kisses you deep. Licks into your mouth, pushes two long fingers back inside your slick heat, and curls them over the sweetest spot. You pull off his lips to gasp. 

“Can we keep doing this?” Wonwoo whispers against the corner of your mouth. “Will you kiss me anytime you want? Baby, say yes.”

You nod, head hazy, swimming in the moment. Baby. The ache in your chest, once dulled but never gone, is pounding. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wonwoo holds you like you’re about to disappear, grips your waist tight with his free hand, fucks into you slow and messy with the other. You whimper as he plays with your clit, spread your legs wider so he can see, if he wants, but he’s watching your face, watching your mouth form a silent o. You’re so pretty, he tells you. So pretty always but prettiest like this, when it’s just the two of you. Watches your eyes go glassy, watches you come apart for him, feels your pussy clench around his fingers and commits the way your body shudders to memory. He doesn’t wait for it to pass before he kisses you again, takes your whines in his mouth and eats them. They taste saccharine sweet. 

He slots between your legs, rests his cock against your core, pressing languid kisses to anywhere he can reach without moving from this spot. Nips at your collarbone, laves his tongue over the sensitive spot on your neck. Will leave a mark there, one day, when you’re his. A small part of him says that you’re his now, always have been, but it’s not really true, is it? Wonwoo needs the conversation, needs the lines drawn and the expectations laid out. Needs you to be sure that it’s him you want. Needs to know he’ll be able to give you what you need. He hasn’t, always, and that was part of the trouble. Wants it to be different, this time, because being with you is one of the few things that makes him feel whole in his own skin. 

Right now he wants to feel you like this, chasing friction and needing more. He’ll give it to you, would give you anything in this moment, just wants you needy first. It starts with you wrapping your arms around his back, running your fingertips down his spine, lighting little fires in their wake. You press a gentle kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose, his jaw, and tell him you need him inside. That you want him to fill you up. Fuck, if he could do this forever–

He wraps long fingers around your ankle, bends your knee to press your thigh to your chest, gives him better access like this, and it’s then he rolls against you, his cock dragging along your clit. He’s always loved the way you sound. Loves the way you get wet for him. Wonwoo loves you. So much. 

“Love you, too, Wonwoo.”

He groans as he slots a hand between your bodies, fists his cock and slides into your slick, tight heat. It’s agonising, he thinks, the way you tighten around him. Wants to go to sleep this way, wrapped up in each other like this. He knows if he asks you’ll let him, but he wants you to want it too. Maybe another time. This time there’s going to be more. He knows it.

“Need you to move,” you sigh. “Move for me.”

He does. Fucks into you slow, shit, baby, you feel so good. He gets in deep, feels the tension burning in his guts, gasps into your kiss when your cunt goes impossibly tight and wet around his cock, loves when your nails dig into his skin, when your moan comes out muffled and broken. 

He pulls out to look down at his cock slipping inside you, pushes in as deep as he can again and you arch your hips to meet him. He rolls the pad of his thumb over your clit. His body is alight, the perfect amount of heat and pressure and you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” His voice rasps. Your lips are pink and swollen. He wants them back on him. “So wet for me.” 

The pressure of his hands on you– it wavers. Digs in hard in one moment and become the ghost of a touch the next. It’s like he loses himself and then remembers that you’re a flower, soft, and delicate. You won't break, because you’ve never been the least bit fragile, but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to hurt. More so he doesn’t want to let himself claim you. Can’t let anyone know he knows you like he does. 

“Leave marks on me, Wonwoo,” you say, reading his mind. You run your fingers over the top of his, where they rest upon your middle. “I like it.”

He did once, at the end of the first time. Sucked a deep, purple bruise beneath your neck for everyone to see. And he loved it, loved knowing he put it there in the dark, and loved how it deepened into your skin a day later, knowing that every time you looked in the mirror you’d be reminded. Loved it– until the brakes were slammed on, and he had to watch it deepen still. Watched your friends tease, asking ‘who’s loverboy?’ just for you to say oh my god, no one, shut up. The next day you’d covered your mottled skin with make-up, so like you he pretended nothing happened. And all too soon it faded, much faster than all the rest of it. He wouldn’t have done it at all, had he known he was no one. 

But now you’re telling him to. Wanting clouds his judgement. It’s a dream, maybe, but dreams have never felt like this, you were always just out of reach. He’s all shallow thrusts and quickened breaths, and you take his hands to show him where you want his mouth. 

“Here,” you say, pressing his palm over your breast. Here is good, he thinks, as he mottles the flesh with his lips. Private, just something for the two of you. He’ll ask for a picture in a few days, jerk himself off over it, probably. You thread a hand through his hair, pull on it (his cock twitches inside you, embarrassing) to angle his head up your body. You look so happy, smiling soft, and watching him through your eyelashes. God, why didn’t he get his shit together before? 

“Here, too” you say, directing him to your collarbone. Wastes no time leaving a small mark. He likes it, looks a little like a love heart. There’s still a chill in the air this April, you could easily cover it if you need to, he wouldn’t mind this time. But then you say here, and this time you’re tipping up your jaw to give him access, pressing his fingers to the column of your lovely neck. He stills inside you, and you make a small noise of discontent, and angle your hips to draw him in deeper. 

“Please, Wonwoo,” you beg, eyes big and shining. You touch his bottom lip, wet with spit. “Need it on me. Wanna be yours too.” 

He uses teeth, this time. Sinks into your body and groans against your neck, you press kisses into his hair as he fucks you. Hard breaths, sloppy thrusts, the sound of wet skin and your broken noises. Wonwoo whimpers into your neck as you pulse around him, sucking the deepest bruise, fuck fuck fuck. “Gonna come,” you breathe. “Are you close?” He nods, laves a soothing tongue over the ache, makes it shine. 

“Harder,” you plead, pulling at his hips to drag him against you. “Make me sore.” And it’s fucked up that he wants to. Has this morbid, fascinating thought of you feeling him for days afterward as you go about your life, a heavy, aching reminder that he did this to your body– but maybe it’s okay, if you want it too? He feels the pressure on his skin, in his bones, of your need for him. He thrusts deep and fast without warning, even the breath he takes is sharp, and the noise– fuck, the noise is obscene. You come with a gasp, eyes fluttering like you want to keep them open but can’t, too lost in the feeling. He whispers sweet praise in your ear as he comes too, and you kiss, lazy and open mouthed, at his cheek. His sticky release seeps out of you around his cock, and he fucks it back in, head clouding and body taught with overstimulation.

After a moment, when he’s caught his breath and your body goes molten, he shifts his weight and starts to pull out, but you drag your listless limbs over him to hold him there. “Stay,” you ask quietly, all gentle and loving and shy. “Just for a little while.” 

Words are inefficient, here. Can’t tell you all the ways in which he loves you. Just places those feelings on his lips and presses them to your temple. Hopes you know what you mean to him and hopes he means the same to you. Wonwoo welcomes this arrow through his heart. 

When it’s quiet, and the air in the room is all still and heavy, you murmur against his sweat-sheened skin, “It’s never like this with anyone else.”

No. Nothing could ever be like this.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

May 2006

You’re home for the weekend, and today you're taking a day trip to Dadaepo beach, the south side of Busan. Wonwoo is driving and the windows are down and you’re listening to music and you’re in love. For real, this time. No second guessing, no wondering if he loves you back, because it’s out in the open and it’s tangible. He holds your hand all the time, and it’s so nice not to have adrenaline coursing through your veins before he knots his fingers with yours. He’s driving like this, hands clasped together in your lap. 

Iseul and Seoyoung got close so fast, and they’re singing old songs together in the backseat. Mingyu’s too long body is squished between them, looking utterly perplexed at how he ended up in this car with these strange, loud women. 

Later, you lay out the picnic you’d packed. The others are in the water, in the distance you can almost hear Iseul and Seoyoung shouting happily at Mingyu, and him yelling back. Wonwoo lays stretched out on the blanket like a cat, half dozing in the sun, face covered by the book he was reading earlier. He’s stroking your knee absentmindedly. 

“Talked to my dad earlier– he asked after your applications,” you say.

“Should find out the rest soon,” he replies. He’s already been accepted at KNUH, but that’s his back up. 

A couple of seabirds soar high overhead, can hear them calling to each other, flying so close their wings almost touch. They go like that together, far out above the ocean, and you watch them go until they’re just specks in the hazy blue.

“It’d be nice to live here,” you muse, looking at the way the sunlight dances on the water. “Wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Wonwoo smiles soft, half-hidden under the book. “Yeah it would.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Happy birthday,” Wonwoo whispers into your skin. He’s half-asleep still. Breath warming your neck and fingers slotted into the waistband of your pyjamas. Not to go further, just to touch. 

You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, more alert, having been awake a little longer and waiting for him to stir. “Thank you,” you whisper back, smiling wide. “When do I get my flowers?”

“Patience is a virtue,” he mumbles. 

“One I don’t have,” you say into his cheek. 

“Liar.”

“Did you hide them in the bathroom?” You shift, ready to go get them yourself, but Wonwoo holds you tighter, dragging you back in. 

“You’re not getting your own flowers.” Wonwoo pushes up from the bed. Hair messy and face all scrunched up. God, he’s lovely in the mornings. “Stay there.”

You suppress a giggle, touching his bare thigh just to touch. 

“I like when you’re bossy.” 

He kisses your forehead. You put his glasses on for him, wonky because he just looks so cute like that. He grumbles.

He pulls on his grey sweatpants from the night before, doesn’t bother with a shirt, to fumble his way out of his room in the barely-there morning light. He comes back in about five minutes later, singing the birthday song, voice soft and slow with sleep, tray in hands, two coffees, a bowl of fruit to share, a funfetti cupcake with one pastel green candle, blush pink tulips pretty in a vase. 

He makes you blow out the candle, sets the tray on the nightstand on your side of his bed, and flops back in beside you. He curls into your side, arm over your middle and drawing you close, eyes already shutting. You smile, touching the petals and making birthday wishes that all of this carries on, even as you get old. 

“They’re pretty, thank you, Wonwoo.”

“Pretty flowers for my pretty girl,” he says simply, like it doesn’t make your heart sing. “Your real present is later.”

“You already got me my present,” you protest.

“S’different now,” he says through a yawn. 

You grin. Things are different. There still hasn’t been a conversation, nothing defined– you should do that, soon– but it feels like you belong to each other, more so than any other time before. The two of you are swimming into open sun-dappled waters, and it feels warm.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

June 2006

Wonwoo sits on the edge of his bed, the envelope thick with papers lying forgotten on the floor. He drags his free hand over his mouth, reads the letter again in disbelief, because it can’t be real. It shouldn’t be. 

“I shouldn’t have applied.” His voice is strained. Hurts to hear. 

Of course he should have. 

“You couldn’t have known.” 

“I’m not going.” He meets your eyes, stricken, and you know he’d mean it if you even gave him an inch.

“Oh, Wonwoo,” you sigh. “You’ve got to. It was made for you.”

The letter is crumpling in Wonwoo’s fist. He’ll want to save it, probably. A memento of the start of his new chapter. He should save it. You take it from him, smooth out the creases, pull a heavy book from your shelf and press it over the paper. You won’t cry, not here in front of him, but your eyes feel too wet. He’d only feel some awful boundless guilt and it’d just make everything worse. You rub at them. 

Wonwoo moves close. Tugs at your belt loop to bring you between his legs, presses his forehead into your sternum, and you cradle his head in your arms. 

“It’s okay,” you insist, soothing a hand over his hair, reassuring yourself as well as him. “What was it your dad used to call us? Do you remember?”

He nods. You tug him by the chin to look up at you. “Tell me,” you say as you touch his neck, feel his pulse quicken, and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Birds of a feather,” he breathes.

Wonwoo pushes up your top, presses open wet kisses up your middle, bunches the material under your arms and drags the cup of your bra down rough. 

“That’s it,” you say, voice thick. “That’s it, Wonwoo. We’re birds.”

Takes your nipple in his mouth, makes it wet with his tongue, pulls off just to watch it pebble in the cold, slick with spit. 

“You need to go,” you say. Your throat is dry. Deep in your mind, the cruelest part of you, says it was purposeful, him applying for something that’ll take him away from you, right on the precipice of it all. Before lines can be drawn, while the boundaries are still blurred. He’s not like that, really. It’s just your projection, you remind yourself. Doesn’t stop it from hurting because two short months isn’t enough, but you’ll never be the one to hold him back. Not when he’s been working so hard, not when he holds himself back more than anyone. You fist your hands at the nape of his neck. “I’ll kill you if you don’t.”

He pulls at your hips, fingers digging so tight they hurt. It’s good. It’s awful. 

“I can’t do a distance like this,” you admit, carding your hands through his hair. “A year is too long. Might be more.” His clumsy, desperate hands fumble with the button of your jeans, pushing them down your legs so you can kick them off. You slide into his lap, wrap your legs around his waist. His mouth moves up your body, clawing and aching and needy, teeth nipping at your collarbone, sucking purple into your spit-sheened skin. Slips a hand between you and hums pleasantly at the wetness on your underwear. Circles his fingers over your cotton-covered clit. “How long have we got left?”

“Three weeks,” he says, between bites. His eyelashes are wet. 

You nod. Okay. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got three weeks, and then we’ll be friends again. We can do this.”

Wonwoo pulls your underwear to the side, slips a finger over your wet, wanting cunt. “Friends don’t do this,” he rasps, sinking his finger in, curling just enough to make you keen. He’s so hard, you can feel the denim-clad bulge against your body. “Friends don’t touch each other like this.”

“We can,” you sigh. “If we want.” He wrenches at your clothes and kicks them to the floor, leaves you bare and he’s still wearing too much. 

You push him back on the bed, drag his hands from your body to pin them at his sides. He looks at you, wounded and desperately turned on. You turn your back on him, spread your legs over his body to let him see you, wet and needy, pull on his belt and shove his jeans and underwear away just enough to free his hard cock. 

“You know I want more than that,” he admits, breath warm against your clit. He hisses as you take him in your mouth, whines desperately as you pull back and swipe your tongue over the head. Let the spit bubble between your lips and work it over him, because this is how he likes you, sloppy and messy and wet. He licks into you, all tongue and teeth and soft lips against your core, pressed deep, getting his face wet with you, drags your body down tight against his mouth, arms wrapped around your hips and fingers digging into your flesh. You moan, pornographic, around his cock. Wonwoo arches his hips, fucks rough into your mouth, chasing the heat. 

Wonwoo is greedy, sometimes. You love this part of him, when he lets it out. Wants your release fast, it seems. He moves between sharp bites at your thighs, marks pressed into the juncture of them, secret and lovely, heavy sucks over your clit, all while working you open with long, thick fingers. Makes you come unexpectedly fast, shuddering over him and pulling off his achingly hard cock with a broken moan. “You’re so wet, baby. Wanna be inside you.”

You nod, dumb and lovestruck and hazy. He grabs at your wrist and tugs, pulls you back over him and tight against his body, kisses you deep and lets you taste yourself on his tongue. You tug at his shirt, drag it awkwardly over his head and his glasses get pulled off with them, they clatter to the floor, but he’s pulling your breast to his mouth again and nothing matters but this, right now. 

Right now, you sink over him slow slow slow, let him feel all your tight, wet heat before he gets needy, before he fucks up into you hard, like he wants to become part of you. Like he wants to crawl inside and make a home there. You watch his chest rise and fall, touch his skin as best you can between the lack of space between your bodies, lay your palm over his heart and feel it beat for you. He calls you beautiful, and you say it back. Says he likes the way your eyes roll back, that he loves how wet you get when he kisses your neck, when he calls you his pretty girl. Baby, fuck– you take me so well. He reaches behind your body, fingers splayed over where you join, feels the way your cunt hugs him. Groans as you grip his length with your pussy, hisses when you dig your nails into his chest as you come– everywhere, everything tight tight tight. 

Wonwoo runs soothing hands down your back as you sag against him, tells you he loves you, asks delicate and concerned if you want to stop because you’re crying, and when you hold him closer, tell him no, you need this– he puts you on your back and fucks you hard enough to make you forget about it. Presses your body into the mattress and lays his entire weight on you. Wonwoo buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispers that you mean everything to him, and you nod, hold his body and let the fever set in. He comes with the deepest, most languid stroke, holds his cock tight inside and fills you up. Asks desperately if you can feel it. You can. Yeah, yeah I can feel you. Feels so good. 

Much later, you lay facing each other in the quiet, tears already shed and conversation put on pause. It’s too hard to talk about being friends, just now. He kisses your eyelids, your cheeks, your lips, and you let him. Too sad to move, too in love. Friends don’t mean I love you the way you do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

August, 2006

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 2nd August 2006, 21:13

Hello from Naxos, 

I got here from Athens a few days ago. I stupidly left my laptop in one of the lecture halls (I think) and no one has handed it in to the office, so I didn’t see your emails until now. Sorry about that. I feel like I’ve been living in a daze since I left home. Can’t keep my head on straight.

I don’t know how to describe this place. It’s beautiful. It’s hot. My room doesn’t have air conditioning and the sweat makes the sheets stick to my skin even in the middle of the night. The air hangs still and it’s thick in my throat. I think you’d hate it. And even then I’m sure you’d want to be held to sleep while complaining about the heat. I’m in the internet cafe now, and it’s so nice and cool I might pay for an extra hour just to sit here and feel like a person again.

Tomorrow we’re visiting Keros for the first time, and I don’t know how to feel. Whenever I imagine stepping off the boat the roof of my mouth goes dry. Is that excitement? I don’t know. I do know that I’m not sure I fit in here with the others. They’re quite similar to you, in the coming from a well off family regard, but they’re completely unaware of how they sound. I don’t think they realise how they flaunt it. When I first got here they talked about taking ‘the boat’ down to Santorini and asked if I wanted to join them. I said I’d need to check how much the ferry costs, and they looked at me like I’d sprouted another head right in front of them. Turns out they took someone’s dads yacht for the weekend. I didn’t go. I think you’d know how to talk with them. You’d know how to relate to them in some way that wouldn’t come across awkward or fake. I mean that as a compliment.

You asked me what I’m thinking about and right now it’s that time you and I dug out those old coins in your grandparents garden. Do you think your Grandfather buried them there for us to find? I’ve often thought that that small thing brought me to where I am, to what I’m doing, and I wonder if it was real? I miss that garden a lot. I miss us in it.

Am I complaining too much? I am, aren’t I? I think it’s the heat. 

How is your summer at home?

What have you been doing?

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 2nd August 2006, 21:18

Mum and dad say you’re welcome to visit them before you go back to the city next month.

I miss you.

From: You <bowser80@aol.com> To: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> Date: 4th August 2006, 18:52

Hello to Naxos,

I’m sure you’ll be in Keros by now, so I hope it’s everything you hoped it would be. It looks lovely in the photographs on Google but I hope you’re taking some of your own for me anyway. I want some photos just for me, please, Wonwoo. I hope you’re looking at the sea and thinking that I’d like the colour of it. 

I don’t know how much I’d enjoy the company of your colleagues though. They sound stuffy and out of touch. Is there anyone you actually like yet? Tell me about them. 

I’m in the garden right now. I’m quite positive Grandpa buried the coins for us because there was mud all over his knees, don’t you remember? Granny scolded him for washing his dirty hands in the kitchen sink but she said the smile on your face made her forget about it. Just because it was engineered doesn’t mean it wasn’t real, you know? That your joy wasn’t real. Don’t you feel joy now, being exactly where you’ve wanted to be for the longest time? 

It’s been almost two months since you left and you haven’t sent one single photo of a cat, and I know for a fact that Greece has many. Have you spent all your time off holed up inside? Go out for a drink. Make some friends. Stand on the grass with your feet bare. It’ll do you some good.

Summer at home is as it always is. I saw Mingyu and Seokmin at a bar a few days after you left, Mingyu said to say hi but I told him to do it himself and gave him your new email address, I knew you wouldn’t mind. Mother has been down, I think Dongho cheated on her again but she won’t say anything. I haven’t done much else besides sleeping and shopping and playing games. Don’t tell anyone I said so but it’s boring without you here. 

I don’t think I’ll stay for the whole summer, actually. Iseul and Seoyoung are saying they want to visit the States. I’ll probably go with them. Iseul’s parents have a little place in California. I’ll take my laptop though, email me every time you think of me.

Tell your parents I’ll visit in the next few days, I’ve been craving your mum’s kimchi jjigae. 

PS - I miss us in the garden too. 

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 7th August 2006, 19:36

Keros was definitely something. I worry I built it up in my head too much, you know? Thought I’d feel more moved than I did. One of the leads, Edward, from a village in Wales I can’t pronounce the name of, is walking us through the project for the next few weeks. If I could learn half as much as he knows for the time I’m here, I’m sure I’ll get by for the rest of my career. I stood in the ruins of what was a home built over 2300 years ago and wondered what the people who lived there must’ve felt about it. Were they happy? Did they think the island too small? Were they jealous their neighbour had a better view of the ocean? Did they start sleeping with their best friend (again) just before moving to a Mediterranean island hahaha?

Should we talk about us yet? I worry if we leave it any longer we’ll just start pretending it didn’t happen again.

I did take some pictures on the island. Shall I post them on Facebook? There’s this small cove you would’ve liked that had these tiny iridescent fish that swam up so close to my feet that I thought they’d bite them. There was one cat outside my window but it was dark and the one photo I got of it is so blurry it’s not worth showing. I’ll find more to take photos of. 

Thanks for giving Mingyu my details, he’s already emailed me. He said you were looking well. I’m sorry about your mother. 

I won’t go for that drink you suggest because all the would-be drinkers seem more interested in snorting lines off each other's chests, and I don’t have the spare cash for all that. I have met some people - Matteo and Emma. Matteo is from Naples and Emma is from London. Emma reads, and she said she’ll lend me her copy of The Little Prince when she’s done with it. I haven’t told her I’ve already read it.

California sounds like it’ll be fun for you. Knowing Iseul her parent’s “little place” has eight bedrooms, a tennis court, an olympic swimming pool, and a live-in chef haha. How long will you go for? 

PS - on second thought I don’t know how you would’ve felt about the fish and the feet. 

PPS - if I emailed you every time I thought of you then I’d hardly ever leave the cafe.

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 8th August 2006, 17:52

Should I have brought it up?

From: You <bowser80@aol.com> To: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> Date: 9th August 2006, 06:28

Hello from LA,

Sorry for the slow reply, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind.

Wonwoo, I don’t know what there is to say about it all. Do you? 

I’m trying very hard not to be pathetic but the fact is that despite whatever state our on and off hook up thing is in, I still want us to be in each other’s lives. I don’t think you’re going to be in love with me forever, are you? You’re my safe space and I like hearing your thoughts and I feel like being your friend makes me a better person. We have good sex, great sex, but we’ve never managed anything solid. I mean, I know that you left because of the fellowship and because I encouraged you to take it, but things between us always seem to end just as soon as it gets real. 

Don’t worry, Wonwoo. We’re always going to be friends. You’re going to marry the girl next door type that doesn’t ask too many questions. She is sweet and knits you scarves for Christmas and prefers doggy style so you don’t see her face when she comes. She isn’t me– the selfish, obnoxious girl from three streets across, who beat you in the spelling bee when we were seven. You’re probably going to have three children, and definitely become very accomplished in whatever archeologists are accomplished in. And I am going to have at least four husbands, one child who’ll grow up rolling their eyes at me, and I’ll become infamous for whistleblowing the government for…. something gross and scandalous. Like listening in to everyone’s phone calls. We’ll holiday together and our children will grow up like cousins and when we get drunk and our spouses go to bed I’ll go “remember our last night before you left for Greece? Remember that night? You put your wet fingers in my mouth and told me ‘bite down when you come.’ I think about that all the time.” You’ll be so mortified your ears will go red. You’ll probably spill your drink.

I’m laughing my ass off just imagining it. Isn’t it funny that you’re only bold enough to say things like that when we’re in bed? It’s like you need to be cocooned up with someone in order to let your inside voice out. God, you’re so impolite when you fuck me. 

But don’t worry. You were my best friend long before you ever touched me like that. Every time we do this you tell me you just want to be friends, right? So let’s be friends. I can do platonic if that makes it easier for you.

Anyway. The update is I visited your parents (they probably already told you) and your mum made the BEST japchae for me. They love me sooooo much, I’ve got no idea why. I’m sure you’re very jealous and that sustains me. Now I’m in LA for the rest of the month. Iseul’s place is only six bedrooms, actually! No tennis court or live-in chef but the pool is admittedly gigantic. Please see attached photo. I look great, right? I’m sure you’re nodding. Maybe while I’m here I’ll find husband numero uno. If I'm going to have four I should start working on that ASAP. 

We’re okay, Wonwoo. 

PS - don’t you dare upload those photos to Facebook, send them to me and me alone. Also send me one of you because you’ve been gone so long I’ve forgotten what you look like. 

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 10th August 2006, 20:39

Hello to California,

Is that really what you think? That I fall out of it so quickly? That we started sleeping together again, and you think I didn’t feel fucked up over leaving? I’m starting to wonder if it was worth leaving at all. I’m glad we’re friends but do friends kiss the way we do? Are friends allowed to do that with each other? Does it make me a bad friend if I looked at the photo you sent and thought how pretty you are and let my mind run away wondering how you’d look if you were in my room here. I almost thought about printing your photo off but is that perverted? You’re fully clothed but I feel like a pervert. You do look great. I love that colour on you. 

I can’t imagine this life you’re dreaming up. I can’t imagine marrying some faceless person. Can’t imagine anything for me beyond what’s happening today. I can see you with four husbands though. I don’t mean that in any type of way, just that you find it easy to find people who love you even if they don’t exactly fit.

If you’re going to uncover some government spy operation let’s get started on the theories right now. If they’ve been listening to phone calls then it stands to reason they’re probably reading emails and texts too. Do you think they’re reading ours? Do we have our very own spy?

What is your first husband going to be like? The antithesis of me? Or maybe someone so strangely similar that all of our friends whisper about how weird it is? Don’t you think it’s messed up that we’re talking about this?

Please see attached a couple of photos of the island, one of me in my room, for your eyes only. Don’t go showing them to Iseul and Seoyoung. They’re not as good as the ones on my film camera but you’ll have to wait until I’m home for those. 

PS - can you download Skype? Efraim, the guy who owns the cafe, is installing it on all the computers, he says we’ll be able to video call. I’m free on Sunday after 7PM, that’s 9AM for you. Are you free?

From: You <bowser80@aol.com> To: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> Date: 11th August 2006, 12:05

It was worth leaving because this is what you’ve been working for your whole life. And it doesn’t matter that we started again because as long as we’re both single it can pick up whenever we want. I know you care for me in your quiet way. I know you’d never hurt me with intent. It’s fun, and we’re young, and we know it’s easy with each other. It doesn’t have to be more than that. Maybe we shouldn’t have said the L word, though, don’t you think? I try not to think about it. It would have been more sensible not to. Hindsight blah blah blah. 

We can be whatever kind of friends you want. I don’t mind that you think about fucking me. You did, right? When you saw my photo? I’d quite like it if you did. I like thinking about your cheeks getting hot and having to adjust your jeans in the middle of the cafe. Did you feel the need to hide your screen?

You’re probably right about the spies reading our emails too, I’ll note that down somewhere offline. Have you considered that our spy may be Efraim? After all, he has easy access to the computers you use every evening. Maybe you should consider getting a laptop of your own. It must be costing you a small fortune going to the cafe to email little old me every day. Dad is getting a new one soon, shall I ask him to post you his old one? Don’t be weird about accepting it, it’s just a laptop.

My first husband is so so so handsome. Grossly rich because of generational wealth, he doesn’t have to deal with the stress of being self made. I need to start strong, you see. A little shorter than you, so you’re not entirely emasculated haha. He probably knows how to sail. I bet he drapes sweaters across his shoulders like those guys in Ralph Lauren ads. I bet he’s played Wonderwall on an acoustic guitar and doesn’t realise how cliche it is. He’s probably doing it right now. I hope he’s not conceited. That’d be unbearable. Though I suppose we’d need a good reason to divorce. 

How are Matteo and Emma? What are they like? Did you tell them anything about me?

Seoyoung says hello. Iseul said she thinks you need a haircut (sorry, she peeked over my shoulder when I read your email) but I don’t. I think you look hot with long hair. Send me more photos of you? Take a shower first and think about me. Leave your clothes off. Shut your eyes and imagine I’m with you. I’ll open them in private.

We’re going to a party in Malibu on Saturday. Iseul’s cousins (Joshua and Kevin– they’re cool, you’d like them) are family friends with some big shot Hollywood producer so maybe I’ll meet some celebrities! Maybe I’ll meet my husband! If you send me a photo before then just know I won’t look at it, I need my head in the game. I’ll call on Sunday morning and tell you all about it.

PS - don’t open the attached photos in front of Efraim. It’s okay if you print them.

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 12th August 2006, 22:47

God. You’re right about getting another laptop while I’m here (I’m not taking your dad’s one, I’ll save up for one by myself) because I had to wait until Efraim went to the bathroom before printing your photos. I nearly broke a sweat wondering if he’d come back too quickly and see me holding them like some kind of sick freak. You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Your husbands won’t know what to do with themselves.

Yes, I’ve been thinking about fucking you. Do you think about it too? I’m guessing by your photos that you do. Did you think of me eating you out when you touched yourself? You probably won’t read this email for another twelve hours but just know that I failed miserably not getting hard in the back of the cafe. I had to spend ten minutes catching up on the news back home just to stop remembering being inside you, how wet you get when I kiss your neck. What am I, a teenager?

You should’ve come here for your summer trip, rather than LA. Why are you going out tonight looking for someone else when you could have been here. I’m jealous. I miss you. 

I’ll send you your demands before we call tomorrow. I want to see your face when you open it.

Matteo and Emma are great. They’re funny, and well read, and they know more mythology than I do, if you can believe it. Matteo is a good cook. He made lasagne for dinner the night I last emailed you and it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I wish you could try it. If he ever wanted to open a restaurant he absolutely could. If you wanted to take him as one of your husbands I wouldn’t be opposed. It’d give me more reason to have dinner at your house. Emma has the most infectious laugh I’ve ever heard. 

They both know about you. We work together here a few nights a week, so they’ve seen me writing you. I told them we’re best friends, that you’re a little bit insane despite being one of the most level headed people I know. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth. I told them that you’re smarter than I am, and that you’ll probably take down several governments one day. I told them that you miss me terribly. And that you understand me better than I understand myself, and that I can hardly understand you at all. 

Emma asked if we were ever together, and I didn’t know how to answer. I almost said not really, but I don’t know if that’s true. Is it true? Matteo changed the subject before I could answer anyway. He wanted to know who bowser80 was. On that note I’m begging you to choose a more sensible email address, if only so Efraim doesn’t think I’m sending vaguely horny emails to a Super Mario character. He probably has the wrong impression of you. 

I’m really looking forward to speaking to you properly. Your photos are- well they’re obscenely hot. But I want to see your smile. 

Talk soon. Don’t fuck your husband-to-be on the first night, he doesn’t deserve you.

PS - I’m not sure if Efraim is our spy, actually. I just watched him pick his nose and wipe it under the desk. I would hope someone trained in espionage would have better decorum. 

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 13th August 2006, 18:56

Don’t open these until we’re on the call. 

Can’t wait.

From: You <bowser80@aol.com> To: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> Date: 14th August 2006, 09:08

I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been looking at your photos again since I woke up and I fear I’m never going to leave my bed. 

Wonwoo, I’m being very serious when I say you need to get a laptop again as soon as possible because Efraim absolutely cannot read or hear the things I want to say to you. God, Wonwoo, I need to suck your dick inside out. I need you inside me.

How long have you got left in Europe? Is it forever?

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 14th August 2006, 17:31

I can’t stop thinking about you either. I forgot the sound of your laugh for a while and now after hearing it I’m worried I’ll lose it again. Let's keep calling, so we stay real for each other. For the sake of my sanity please say less about sucking my dick. It’s only Monday and it’s a personal goal of mine to make it through the week without rocking a semi in this cafe.

On the topic of buying a laptop, I’m picking up a part time job. The stipend doesn’t stretch as far as I’d hoped. Efraim is hiring, and I asked if working here means I can read everyone's emails and he looked so confused I was almost convinced. Perhaps he’s a better spy than we thought. Of course working here means more opportunity for talking to you, which sweetens the deal somewhat. 

It does feel like it’ll be forever, doesn’t it? I won’t be able to come home to visit until March. I wouldn’t be opposed to you visiting me here during your winter break. Would you like to?

Say yes.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

December 2006

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 30th December 2006, 09:40

Hi baby,

My palms are sweating but I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s just us, isn’t it? I haven’t been this nervous to see you since before school the day after we slept together. The first time, I mean. We were idiots, I know that much. 

I’m borrowing Matteo’s car to come pick you up, I’m nearly ready. Please excuse the mess in it, he lives like a pig but he’s so endearing Emma and I forgive him anything. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him tonight. Emma can’t make it until New Years, she sends her apologies- I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I’ll say it to your face.

By the time you read this, it’ll be tomorrow morning and we’ll have already had one whole day together. You’ll ask to use my laptop to check your emails, and I’ll still be half asleep in the bed next to you. 

Have I kissed you yet? 

I’ve been working up the courage to kiss you as soon as you get through customs. I’ve been playing out how it’ll go. I’m going to set your bags down on the floor and take your face in my hands and kiss you right there in the middle of the arrivals lounge. Even as I’m typing all of this out, I know it won’t happen like that. I’m going to wave awkwardly when I see you coming through the doorway. I’m going to be hit with a rush of nostalgia when I catch the smell of your shampoo when we hug hello. I’m going to look at your lips and think about the taste of you, but then I’ll feel the eyes of other people on us, and they’ll be wondering if we’re together, and then I’ll start thinking too much and accidentally leave it too late, and you’ll be handing me your bags to carry. I’ll feel foolish and thoughtless for not taking them from you in the first place. 

I’ll kiss you without an audience. I hope you don’t mind. 

From: You <bowser80@aol.com> To: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> Date: 31st December 2006, 06:15

Hi Wonwoo, 

I like when you call me baby outside of the bedroom. Are you trying it on for size?

Don’t worry, you were a real gentleman at the airport yesterday. Took my bag and opened doors and everything. Five stars. It’s sweet knowing you were nervous. You didn’t look it at all. I thought how confident and self assured you seemed, like you knew all the answers to every question ever asked. I’m kind of in awe of you. The way we talk online has me forgetting what you’re like in person. How quiet you go, how the comfortable silences have me wondering what you’re thinking, how deliberate you are with your words. You say sometimes that I understand you better than anyone but I don’t think I do. You must think that your expressions give away your every emotion but they don’t, Wonwoo. You have this huge inner world I know nothing about and your emails give me a peek at what’s inside. You’re a mystery to me, the same way everyone is a mystery. 

Even now, you’re fast asleep (I’m sorry I didn’t wake you to ask to use your laptop, but you don’t mind, do you? I wanted you to rest.) and I have no idea what you’re dreaming about. Is it me? I hope it is. I like how you sleep next to me, did I ever tell you that? You’re like a koala. I like how you reach for my hand when I think you’re already sleeping and draw lazy figures of eight across my palm, with your chest against my back. I like the way your hair is even longer now. Messy and soft. Wonwoo, you’re so so so handsome. You look like an artist. You look like someone Jane Austen would write about.

I liked that you kissed me in private. I liked that you kissed me at all. I liked that you held my hand when you introduced me to your friends, even though you were quiet as ever. Were you feeling shy?

I’m looking in the mirror now and I like the marks you left on my neck. They’re so dark! I’m going to need a vat of concealer to cover these up if we leave your room today. I’m going to steal your scarf. I should complain about the mess you made of me, but I like that you’re secretly possessive. Don’t tell anyone I told you that haha. 

I like the way you touched me last night. The way you pressed my hips into the mattress and licked over my clit. The way you twined our hands together and rolled into me. If I close my eyes I can still feel it. Your teeth on my jaw. You, thick and hard, so deep inside me. Your skin felt good against mine. Were we always that good together? Is it better now because we haven’t seen each other for so long? I was so wet I’d be embarrassed if it were with anyone but you. Fuck, I want you again. 

You don’t know that I’m wearing your t-shirt right now. Would you be bothered? Would you like it? 

Wonwoo, would you mind if I woke you up? I want you to fuck me in your t-shirt. I want you to open your tired eyes and be glad I’m in something that smells like you. Reach under the hem and find me without underwear, already wet and wanting. I want you to fuck me harder than last night. I want you to fuck me so deep I can feel you in my throat. I want to feel the vibrations of your groan against my chest. I want it to hurt so much that I still feel you there when I leave. 

I’m going to send this email and wake you up. Sorry it’s so early, baby.

From: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> To: You <bowser80@aol.com> Date: 31st December 2006, 07:53

Good morning,

You’re in the shower. I’m laying on my bed wondering how I’m going to survive this week. We’ve always been good together, I think. But I’ve never, ever seen you like that before. In a good way. The best way. 

Baby, you know I still love you, don’t you? I’m going to say that to your face any second now, so you will already know by the time you read this. Do you love me too?

Keep wearing my t-shirts. Take that one home with you so you can wear it when we Skype, and I can remember the morning you ruined my life. That one looks better on you anyway. God. We’ve got five days left and I’m already hating the thought of you going home. Is it insane to ask you to stay longer? Probably. You’ve got work. Tonight I'm going to kiss you at midnight and make a wish.

I love you. 

I hope you say it back.

PS - it won’t be too long before I’m home. Please wait for me. We can be birds again.

From: You <bowser80@aol.com> To: Wonwoo <everyonewoo@mail.com> Date: 1st January 2007, 08:29

I love you too.

Don’t worry, Wonwoo. We’re always birds.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed this fic, please consider telling me what you liked via a reblog so my fic can get seen outside my own little space <3 i love seeing your feedback. if you have any questions, please ask!! it gives me life to talk about these babies. ily, goodnight!

prequel: joke me something awful.

taglist: @noona-neomu-yeppeo @starmy-143 @haaruki @channieschubbycake @minahaeyo

@mingiboye @kkaetnipjeon @lleercy @itsnotnaomi @ateez-atiny380

@blvked19

[holyschnitzel]

Please come back we miss u 😭😭😞

I'm so sorry peeps 😭

I actually planned to be back in January, but I ran into some technical issues— blue screens galore! (I’d been dealing with them since last year, but they weren't so frequent then.) I ended up taking my PC in for repairs, which took longer than expected, and I thought the problem was finally fixed… but then, just yesterday, another blue screen 😭 It’s driving me crazy! And I'm really not the type who likes posting via phone all the time.

At least I had a few days off in February, so I can share the next sneak peek with you. I really hope I’ll be able to answer your questions again soon. So sorry for the long wait! 🙏 Thank you so much for your continued support! Let me smooch all of you 😙<3

PS: Oh, before I forget, for those who haven't noticed yet: CuriousCat no longer exists, it had to be shut down. Mage (thank you so much!) kindly saved all the responses I ever wrote. Here's the Link - which is really helpful, since I'm sure I'll forget stuff sometimes xD

See you around, lovelies <3

⚠️ SPOILER! ⬇️

[patrycarro]

TS3 - LS3SR09 (No CC)

ENG:

When I took on this challenge from @joshttew, the first thing that came to mind was a towering building with glass everywhere. But the game’s height limit made it incredibly challenging. So much so that I gave up—at least for a while—because nothing I tried fully solved the problem or matched the vision I had in my head.

This week, though, I decided to give it another go, and… LOOK AT THIS BEAUTY! Isn’t it absolutely stunning?! I’m beyond proud of how this build turned out. 😭

For those curious about the technical details, here’s how I made it work: the building actually has only 5 floors (not counting the garage), but thanks to this amazing tutorial, I was able to make it look much taller. Since windows can’t be placed on walls altered this way, I picked a wallpaper that mimics the appearance of windows. In other words, the whole thing is just an illusion!

This game can be incredibly frustrating at times, but with a little creativity and a lot of patience, you can achieve some truly amazing results.

I hope you like it!

Features:

Lot type: Residential

Lot size: 40x40

Location: Bridgeport

Furnished lot value: 138.252 §

Unfurnished lot value: 9.865 §

Bedrooms: 2

Bathrooms: 3

Packs used in this build: EP01, EP02, EP03, EP06, EP07, EP08, EP09, EP10, EP11

Terms and conditions:

DO NOT claim my creations as your own.

If you want to use any of my builds in your custom world or save file, you are allowed to do so, BUT make sure to credit me as the original creator.

DO NOT re-upload my content under any circumstances; share it with your friends using my own links.

If you experience any issues, let me know and I’ll try to fix it as soon as possible.

Download it here. 🤍

SPA:

Cuando acepté este reto de @joshttew, lo primero que me vino a la mente fue esto: un edificio súper alto con cristal por todas partes. Pero el límite de altura del juego me lo puso increíblemente difícil. Tanto, que terminé rindiéndome… al menos por un tiempo, porque nada de lo que probaba solucionaba el problema por completo o encajaba con la visión que tenía en mi cabeza.

Sin embargo, esta semana decidí intentarlo de nuevo y… ¡MIRAD ESTA MARAVILLA! ¿No es absolutamente increíble? Ay, estoy muy orgullosa de esta construcción. 😭

Para aquellos que tengan curiosidad por los detalles técnicos, os cuento cómo lo hice: el edificio en realidad solo tiene 5 pisos (sin contar el garaje), pero gracias a este maravilloso tutorial, conseguí que pareciera mucho más alto. Como no se pueden colocar ventanas en las paredes que se alteran de esta manera, usé un papel de pared que las imita bastante bien. En resumen: ¡todo es una ilusión!

Este juego puede llegar a ser jodidamente frustrante a veces, pero con un poco de creatividad y mucha paciencia, se pueden lograr cosas realmente impresionantes.

¡Espero que os guste!

Características:

Tipo de solar: Residencial

Tamaño del solar: 40x40

Ubicación: Bridgeport

Valor del solar amueblado: 138.252 §

Valor del solar sin amueblar: 9.865 §

Habitaciones: 2

Baños: 3

Packs utilizados en esta construcción: EP01, EP02, EP03, EP06, EP07, EP08, EP09, EP10, EP11

Términos y condiciones:

NO proclames mis creaciones como tuyas.

Si quieres usar alguna de mis construcciones en tu mundo personalizado o save file, tienes permitido hacerlo, PERO deja claro que yo soy su creadora original.

NO resubas mi contenido bajo ninguna excepción; compártelo con tus conocidos usando mis propios enlaces.

Si experimentas algún problema, házmelo saber e intentaré solucionarlo lo antes posible.

Descárgalo aquí. 🤍

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ TALKING TO THE MOON

❛ 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘪 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧— 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯? ❜

timeline: 2018

synopsis: After months of avoidance and awkward interactions, two hearts finally break their barriers, sharing confessions under the moonlight and finding the closure they both desperately needed.

warnings: angst, cursing, crying, arguments, mentions of anxiety, yelling, “i hate you!” (lies), closure, confessions, reconciliation, some heart-wrenching shit, simp!Jeonghan, scared!Luna, heart-to-heart talks, explanations, Yoon Jeonghan will be on his knees… begging, heartfelt, hopeful, somewhat a happy and silly ending, ends with fluff

due to popular demand of more angst here is more of the rejection aftermath. this story takes place after If Only & Can I Be Him? and takes place before His English Love Affair. so i highly recommend reading everything in order to understand. every single one-shot in my blog is arranged in chronological order in the writings masterlist which is linked below👇 happy reading, my loves 🤍🩵

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Jeonghan is an island.

Not in the literal sense, but in the way he exists.

To him, being an island means standing steady amidst the tide, a constant presence when the waves threaten to overwhelm those around him.

Jeonghan has always seen himself that way— a safe haven for his loved ones, a place they could come to with their burdens and leave feeling just a little lighter.

He takes pride in this role, knowing that if someone he cares about feels lost, they can always find their way back to him. And when they’re ready to leave, to set sail again, he’ll let them go with a quiet smile, no questions asked. He exists as a constant— a refuge, a quiet place to rest before facing the storm again.

Jeonghan has always been that for the people he loves, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. When the members of SEVENTEEN come to him, seeking advice, a listening ear, or simply someone to sit with in silence, Jeonghan is there.

He listens patiently, his eyes fixed on theirs with a quiet intensity that tells them he is fully present. He doesn’t rush to fill the silence with platitudes or fix their problems for them. Instead, he allows them to speak, unraveling their worries, frustrations, and fears as he holds space for them.

More often than not, the members leave those moments with him feeling lighter. They walk away with the weight of their worries softened, bolstered by his quiet reassurances or the practical wisdom he dispenses so naturally.

In their world of relentless schedules and pressure, Jeonghan is their counselor, their confidant, their steady shore.

But no one seeks him out more than Luna.

For as long as Jeonghan could remember, Luna had always gravitated toward him in times of need.

Out of thirteen members, she could have turned to anyone. Each of them was capable in their own way— each a pillar of strength, kindness, and understanding. And yet, time and time again, Luna came to Jeonghan.

It wasn’t because he was the most understanding or the most overtly comforting. It wasn’t because he had all the answers. It was simply because Jeonghan knew how to listen.

He listened in a way that made you feel seen.

Truly seen.

Luna would come to him during her moments of doubt, her voice cracking under the weight of frustration or pain. Sometimes, she would rant about the pressures of their industry, her words tumbling out in rapid succession as she paced the room with clenched fists. Other times, she would sit quietly, her eyes filled with unshed tears, as she shared her fears, her insecurities, and the thoughts that kept her awake at night.

And Jeonghan— he would just listen.

He never judged. Never interrupted. He let her speak until her voice grew hoarse or until she could no longer hold back her tears.

On some occasions, Luna didn’t want advice; she just needed someone to bear witness to her pain, and Jeonghan respected that.

When she didn’t need solutions, he didn’t offer any. He simply sat there, unwavering, his presence a balm to her raw emotions.

On other occasions, Luna would fall apart completely, her sobs breaking through the walls she worked so hard to build. And Jeonghan would be there, his arms wrapping around her as she cried into his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded. He’d rest his chin on her head, murmuring soft reassurances or nothing at all, letting her release everything she had bottled up inside. He would hold her until her tears subsided and her breathing evened out, and even then, he wouldn’t let go until she was ready.

Sometimes, when the tears had stopped, Luna would stay in his embrace, her head resting on his shoulder as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Those moments would stick with him long after she left, her gratitude settling in his chest like a warm, lingering weight.

Jeonghan never failed her.

Not once.

Whenever Luna needed him— whether it was for advice, for a hug, or simply for a quiet moment of understanding— he was there, always.

And for him, that was enough. To be her constant, her refuge, her island.

It was a privilege Jeonghan remembered to never take for granted.

He also remembered how Luna had been the first person to offer herself to be his island when he needed it most.

It was years ago, back when they were merely trainees, their dreams raw and fragile, and their bodies pushed to the brink of exhaustion day after day. He was seventeen then, and she was just sixteen, both of them barely holding it together under the immense weight of expectations.

Yet somehow, amidst the chaos of it all, they had found each other.

It was late at night, the kind of late where the world was quiet, and even Seoul seemed to pause and take a breath.

The two of them sat by the Han River, tucked away in a secluded corner where no one would find them. The air was cool but not biting, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of water and earth. The river stretched out before them, dark and glimmering under the moonlight, its surface rippling faintly with the movement of the current. Above them, the sky was a deep navy, scattered with stars that peeked through the haze of city lights.

It was peaceful, the kind of peace that allowed them to simply exist without pretense.

Jeonghan had leaned back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him, watching the water shimmer. Luna sat cross-legged beside him, her chin resting on her knees, her face illuminated by the soft silver glow of the moon. She looked so serene, as if the weight she carried every day had been momentarily lifted, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride that maybe, just maybe, he had helped with that.

They had been talking for hours, their conversation meandering between dreams and struggles, fears and hopes. Luna had shared her frustrations— the grueling hours of practice, the aching muscles that never seemed to heal, the pressure to prove herself in a room full of talent. She had spoken about her fear of failure, of being left behind, and Jeonghan had listened quietly, nodding when appropriate, offering a few words of comfort when needed.

And then, when she had finally fallen silent, Jeonghan had spoken softly, his voice carrying the kind of weight that came from someone who understood exactly what she was going through.

“Nana-ya,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the river, “if it ever gets too much… you can come to me, you know? Just like this.”

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and curious.

“I mean it,” he continued, his voice firm but gentle. “If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed, if you just need a break… I’ll be your island. A place to rest.”

Luna blinked at him, her expression softening as his words sank in. “An island?” she repeated, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah,” Jeonghan replied, sitting up now and turning to face her. “An island. Somewhere you can come to when you need to escape. No judgment, no pressure. You can tell me all your worries or you can just… rest. And when you’re ready, you can leave and come back whenever you want.”

Luna looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if she were trying to memorize every detail. Then, she tilted her head slightly, her smile widening.

“But what about you?”

Jeonghan frowned, confused. “What about me?”

Luna’s gaze didn’t waver. “Who’s going to be your island, Hannie?”

The question caught him off guard.

No one had ever asked him that before.

Jeonghan stared at her, his lips parting slightly as he struggled to find an answer. But before he could say anything, Luna leaned closer, her voice soft but certain.

“I can be your island, Hannie.”

Jeonghan froze, his heart skipping a beat as he stared at her.

Luna was looking at him with such earnestness, her smile so warm and genuine that it made his chest ache. The moonlight framed her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw, the faint blush on her cheeks, and the gentle sparkle in her eyes. She looked like a dream, so achingly beautiful that it took everything in him not to reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. The moonlight softened her features, illuminating her skin with a silver glow, and he found himself thinking that she had never looked more beautiful than she did in this moment of quiet contemplation.

In that moment, seventeen-year-old Jeonghan knew.

He had known since the first time he saw her that he had a crush on her— how could he not? Every trainee did.

But now, as she sat there offering herself to him in a way no one else ever had, he realized it was so much more than a crush. It was something deeper, something that made his heart feel too big for his chest and his thoughts spiral in directions he couldn’t control.

And yet, he shook his head mentally, pushing the thought away before it could consume him. Instead, he let a teasing smile curl on his lips.

“Island, huh?” he said, his tone light and playful. “You’re going to have to come up with a new term, Nana-ya. Island is mine. I’m trademarking it.”

Luna rolled her eyes, her laugh soft but genuine. “Alright, fine,” she replied, her voice tinged with amusement. “I’ll think of something else.”

They chuckled together, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water against the riverbank. Slowly, their laughter faded, leaving behind a comfortable silence that felt as natural as breathing.

Luna tilted her head back, her gaze fixed on the moon hanging high above them, its pale light casting a soft glow over the world.

Jeonghan, however, didn’t look at the moon.

He couldn’t.

Because the moon was sitting right next to him.

Jeonghan let the comfortable silence stretch between them.

The sound of the river’s quiet ripples filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of the city. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Han?”

Her voice broke the silence, soft but deliberate.

Jeonghan hummed in acknowledgment, his head tilting slightly toward her.

“You know what I’m named after, right?” she asked, finally turning to face him.

Jeonghan nodded without hesitation, his lips curving into a faint smile. “The moon.”

Luna’s grin widened as she nodded in return, impressed by his certainty. Of course, he remembered— she had told him once, during one of their late-night conversations in the practice room, how her mother had chosen her name because of her fascination with the moon.

“My mom is weirdly obsessed with the moon,” Luna chuckled, turning back to gaze at it. Her voice was light, but there was a warmth to it, a fondness that Jeonghan could hear clearly.

Jeonghan stayed quiet, watching her from behind. He didn’t interrupt; he knew she was building toward something.

“She used to tell me that when she was younger, she’d talk to the moon about her worries and her problems.

“Talk to it?” Jeonghan asked, his tone laced with curiosity but devoid of judgment.

“Not out loud,” Luna explained, gesturing with her hands as if trying to clarify. “More like… mentally, you know? Just looking up at it and mentally speaking to it. Does that make sense?”

Jeonghan’s lips twitched upward, his gaze never leaving her animated expression as she spoke. “It does,” he said simply, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. “Her heart speaks to it.”

Luna paused, her hands falling to her lap as she turned to look at him. Her wide eyes shimmered with surprise, as if she hadn’t expected him to understand so easily.

Most people laughed or dismissed the story as strange, but not Jeonghan.

Never Jeonghan. He always understood.

“Yes,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. She smiled, small and appreciative, and for a moment, she felt her heart skip a beat. Then, as if shaking herself out of her thoughts, she laughed lightly. “Anyway, sometimes I like to do that too. Just stare at the moon and… mentally talk to it. It’s comforting. So maybe you can do that too.”

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering as he watched her. “Talk to the moon?” he mused, his tone teasing but thoughtful.

“Yeah,” Luna nodded, her smile growing.

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jeonghan continued to admire her in quiet fascination, while Luna seemed lost in her own world, her gaze fixed on the moon above.

Then she giggled, her laughter light and airy, breaking the stillness. “There are even stories and myths about the man in the moon,” she said with a smirk, turning to face him.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “The man in the moon? You mean the little boy fishing?”

Luna blinked at him, her brow furrowing in confusion.

It took her a moment before realization dawned, and she burst out laughing. “That’s the ‘DreamWorks’ intro! Not that!”

Jeonghan smirked at her, his expression playful. “No? You and your mom aren’t talking to a little boy fishing in the moon?”

Luna scrunched her nose at him, pretending to pout as she glared. But her mock annoyance quickly melted into giggles. “No, silly,” she said, rolling her eyes as she shifted closer, lying down beside him. She rested her head against his outstretched arm, her body relaxing into his warmth.

She pointed toward the moon, her finger tracing invisible patterns in the sky. “They call it ‘the man in the moon’ because sometimes, if you look closely, it looks like it has a face. See?”

Jeonghan followed the direction of her finger, his eyes narrowing slightly as he focused on the craters. “Hmm,” he said after a moment. “It does.”

“See?” Luna said again, her voice tinged with pride. She turned to him with a triumphant smile. “So instead of an island, you can talk to the moon.”

Jeonghan’s eyes softened as they met hers, a small smile playing on his lips. “I already do talk to my moon.”

Luna’s brows furrowed, her head tilting in confusion. “Your moon?” she echoed. “You do? What do you tell it?”

“You tell me,” Jeonghan said, his voice lowering ever so slightly. He finally looked down at her, their faces inches apart, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You’re the only moon I talk to.”

Luna’s breath hitched. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as his words settled in, her heart thudding against her ribcage. But she didn’t say anything, her lips curving into a soft smile instead.

That moment of silence carried a weight to it, one filled with unspoken understanding.

And from then on, Jeonghan’s favorite nickname for her was born.

His moon.

His pretty moon.

From the moment under the moonlight at Han River, Jeonghan and Luna had unknowingly started a tradition— one that became their sanctuary amidst the chaos of their lives.

It began innocently, born from that night when a seventeen-year-old Jeonghan and a sixteen-year-old Luna shared their hearts under the stars.

Whenever the weight of their training bore down on them, they’d find themselves wandering back to that secluded spot by the Han River. It became their unspoken agreement: no matter how tired, how frustrated, or how uncertain they felt about their futures, they’d sit side by side and talk.

They’d talk about everything and nothing.

The worries that festered in their minds, the dreams that seemed just out of reach, the frustrations of not being good enough in their own eyes. Sometimes they’d rant, voices loud and passionate, the river carrying their words away like an invisible confidant. Other times, they’d fall into contemplative silences, punctuated only by the sounds of water lapping at the shore or the rustling of trees in the night breeze.

Even after debuting and becoming idols, Jeonghan and Luna fought to keep this tradition alive.

Their once-frequent visits to Han River dwindled as schedules filled with practices, performances, and public appearances.

But they found ways to adapt.

Instead of sitting by the river, they’d sit on the floor of one of their apartments, cups of tea— or sometimes wine— cradled in their hands as they leaned against the sofa, talking until the early hours of the morning.

When their schedules took them abroad, hotel rooms became their new haven. No matter where they were, Jeonghan and Luna made time for each other when they needed it most.

But everything changed almost a year ago.

Jeonghan hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on those late-night talks until they were gone. He hadn’t understood how much Luna’s quiet wisdom and steady presence meant to him until he lost it.

The last time they had one of their late-night conversations was a night that Jeonghan replayed in his mind more often than he cared to admit.

It had started like all the others— a quiet moment after a long day, a bottle of wine between them, and an unspoken understanding that they were each other’s safe space. But that night had taken an unexpected turn when Luna, cheeks flushed and words slightly slurred, had confessed her feelings for him.

“You make me feel things,” she had said, her voice barely above a whisper but heavy with emotion. “And I hate it.”

Jeonghan had been stunned, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. But the sincerity in her eyes, the vulnerability in her expression, made him painfully aware of the weight of his next words.

He had declined her feelings a few days after— not out of malice, but because he was scared, it was risky. Also because he wasn’t sure he could be what she deserved at that moment. Before he had the opportunity to tell her as much, Luna brushed it off and dashed out the elevator, his heart aching at the way her face fell.

Since then, everything between them had changed.

The awkwardness was subtle at first, but it grew with time. Their once-effortless conversations became stilted, filled with polite exchanges that lacked their usual warmth. When they were alone, the silences between them were no longer comfortable but heavy with unspoken words.

Even in group settings, Jeonghan felt the shift. Luna would exchange a few words with him here and there, but she gravitated toward Mingyu more and more.

It hadn’t taken Jeonghan long to notice the way Mingyu had become Luna’s confidant. He saw how Mingyu stayed by her side, offering her the support that Jeonghan no longer could. And while a part of him was relieved that she had someone to lean on, another part of him couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy that crept into his chest whenever he saw them together.

So, Jeonghan gave her the space she seemed to want. He told himself it was for the best, that she deserved to heal in her own way and in her own time. He respected her boundaries, even though it meant losing the one person who had always been his island… his moon.

Now, as he sat alone in his apartment, the memories of those late-night talks played in his mind like scenes from a movie. He could still hear the sound of her laughter, see the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she was passionate about.

He could still feel the comfort of her presence, the way she always knew what to say to ease his mind.

And Jeonghan missed her.

He missed his moon.

Jeonghan sat on his couch, the glow from the city lights spilling through the window casting faint patterns across his living room. His mind churned endlessly, cycling through the same thoughts that had been haunting him for months now.

No matter how much he tried to shake them off, they persisted. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and sighed deeply, raking a hand through his hair.

His gaze drifted to the moonlit sky outside, and without realizing it, his mind wandered back to that first late-night talk at the Han River with Luna.

It was so many years ago, yet the memory was so vivid it felt like it had happened yesterday. He remembered the way the moonlight reflected on the water, how their quiet voices had melded with the soft sound of the current. He could almost hear her voice again, playful yet serious, telling him to talk to the moon when he’s struggling.

Jeonghan leaned back against the couch, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. If he was honest, he’d never taken her advice— not because he thought it was foolish, but because he never needed to.

Why talk to the moon when he’d always had her?

Whenever he was drowning in worries or self-doubt, Luna had been his island. His anchor. His moon. The one person who understood him without him having to explain.

But now, with a gulf between them that felt impossible to cross, her advice suddenly didn’t seem so silly.

So for the past few months Jeonghan has been looking up at the moon, watching it as he mentally cried his heart out.

Tonight was no different. But tonight something was pulling him to talk to the moon somewhere else.

With that, Jeonghan stood up. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and reached for his car keys on the counter. His decision felt impulsive but right, like this was exactly what he needed to do.

Han River, the sanctuary they had shared so many times. But this time, he’d be going alone.

As he stepped into the hallway, the familiar sound of a door closing echoed from just beside his own. He froze, the keys in his hand jangling softly, and turned his head toward the apartment next to his. His breath hitched as Luna emerged, bundled in an oversized jacket, her own car keys clutched in her hand. She was locking her door, her movements deliberate yet distracted.

When Luna finally looked up, her gaze met his, and they both froze.

For a moment, neither of them said a word. It was as if time had slowed, the hallway shrinking to just the two of them.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other earlier that day— they’d been side by side for a team photoshoot, exchanging polite but distant words.

Yet, this moment felt different.

Charged.

Jeonghan’s first thought was that the universe must have grown tired of watching them avoid each other.

As cliché as it was— there was no other explanation.

This had to be fate’s way of giving them a nudge— a forceful push, really.

Luna blinked, breaking the spell, but her surprise was evident. Jeonghan noticed the way her fingers tightened briefly on her keys, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Instead, they just stared at each other, a strange understanding passing between them.

Because in that instant, they both knew.

They didn’t need to ask where the other was going. They already knew the answer.

Han River.

Luna was the first to glance away, her cheeks faintly pink under the hallway’s dim lighting. She shifted her weight awkwardly, clutching her keys tighter as if that would ground her.

Jeonghan, however, stayed rooted, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. After a beat of silence, he extended his hand toward her.

“Come on,” he said softly, his voice low but steady.

Luna’s eyes flicked to his hand, then back to his face, searching for something in his expression. His gaze was calm, open, almost expectant. After a pause that felt much longer than it really was, she reached out and slid her hand into his. Her fingers were cold against his warmth, and something unspoken passed between them as Jeonghan gently guided her toward the elevator.

The ride down was quiet. Not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either. It was a silence that carried acceptance— an understanding that neither of them could put into words just yet.

The elevator’s soft hum filled the space as they stood side by side, their hands still loosely linked. Jeonghan glanced at their joined hands briefly before looking ahead, lost in thought.

It was ironic, he thought, how the last time they were in this elevator alone, everything had changed.

Almost a year ago, Luna had laid her heart bare, only for him to gently decline.

That night had been a turning point, one that neither of them could ignore, no matter how much they tried to move on. And now, here they were again, in the same space but under entirely different circumstances.

Jeonghan didn’t miss the symmetry of it, nor the weight of what tonight could mean.

For both of them, this was the night to finally talk. To lay everything out in the open. It was either the start of mending what had been broken or the final thread that would unravel everything completely.

Jeonghan silently hoped— prayed— it would be the former.

He didn’t look at Luna, but he could feel her presence beside him, her quiet breathing grounding him.

And though neither of them spoke, he knew she was thinking the same thing.

Soon Jeonghan was driving them to Han River.

The car ride was steeped in silence, the kind that carried its own weight yet wasn’t entirely unbearable. Jeonghan kept his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead, while Luna sat in the passenger seat, her head resting lightly against the window.

The hum of the engine filled the space, accompanied by the soft tunes of the radio playing in the background. The music— a blend of mellow piano and soft vocals— felt like a balm, easing the tension between them, though neither of them acknowledged it.

The thirty-minute drive stretched on, both of them lost in their thoughts.

Jeonghan occasionally glanced at Luna from the corner of his eye, noting how her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but every time he opened his mouth, the words seemed to falter before they could form. So instead, he let the music fill the gaps, hoping it was enough to make the quiet less suffocating.

When they finally arrived at the Han River, Jeonghan pulled into their usual spot. It was secluded, a little pocket of peace away from the bustling city— a place that had become theirs over the years. He turned off the car and stepped out, the crisp night air biting at his skin.

Without a word, he walked to the passenger side and opened her door. Luna blinked up at him, momentarily startled, but she accepted his silent gesture, stepping out into the cool night.

From then on it was like clockwork.

Jeonghan made his way to the trunk, where he pulled out a blanket. It was old and slightly worn but soft, and it had lived in his car for years —just for nights like this. Draping it over one arm, he turned back to Luna, intertwining his fingers with hers without hesitation. Her hand felt cold in his, but she didn’t pull away. Gently, he guided her down the familiar path to their secluded spot by the riverbank.

Once they reached the spot, Jeonghan spread the blanket out on the grass, smoothing it down with deliberate care.

They both sat down, the sound of the river lapping softly against the shore filling the space between them. Overhead, the sky was clear, stars scattered like tiny diamonds, and the moon hung low and luminous, casting its glow over the water.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, side by side, watching the river and the sky in a silence that felt heavier than the one in the car.

Finally, Jeonghan broke it.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here together,” he said, his voice low but carrying over the stillness of the night. He glanced sideways at her. “You still come here often?”

Luna turned to him, slightly taken aback by his casual tone. She studied his profile for a moment before answering. “Not as much lately,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “It hasn’t felt… the same.”

Jeonghan nodded in understanding, his gaze fixed on the river. “Yeah. I know.” He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips as a memory surfaced. He chuckled lightly, the sound breaking through the somber air. “Remember the last time? You were mad at me because I forgot your coffee order, and you swore you’d never trust me with your drinks again.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. That smile sent a jolt straight to Jeonghan’s heart. She hadn’t smiled at him like that in so long. And he had made it happen. He had.

“You brought me iced coffee in the middle of winter, Han,” she replied dryly, her tone tinged with amusement. “You’re lucky I didn’t throw it at you.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his smile widening as he looked at her. “Right. And then you made me drink it as punishment.”

“I did,” she said with a small nod, her gaze drifting back to the moon.

A brief silence fell over them again, but this one felt different. It wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but it carried the weight of all the things left unsaid.

Jeonghan shifted slightly, the grass crunching softly beneath him, and his tone grew quieter when he spoke again.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to come with me,” he admitted, his eyes trained on her face now.

Luna sighed softly, her shoulders rising and falling. “I almost didn’t.”

Her words made his chest tighten, but he turned to face her fully. “I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice earnest. “I’ve missed you. I missed us… Jiyeon-ah, I—”

“Please,” Luna interrupted with a soft sigh, shaking her head. “You don’t have to apologize.”

Jeonghan frowned slightly, his brows drawing together. “No, you’re right,” he said after a moment, his tone steady. “I don’t have to apologize… I need to apologize.”

He met her gaze, his eyes searching hers. “I’m sorry. For everything. For hurting you. For that night… for lying that night.”

Luna looked away before he could continue, her voice low as she said, “Are you sorry because you hurt me, or is it because you don’t feel the same about me?” Her voice softened even further, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she continued. “Han, I forgave you already that night in the elevator. I was hurt, yes, but I understood. I just needed space. I never blamed you for not liking—”

“Ya… Bae Jiyeon, stop. Just stop.” Jeonghan’s voice was firm now, his tone cutting her off sharply. He turned to her fully, his eyes blazing with frustration and something else—something deeper. “First of all, stop saying I don’t like you. That’s not true. Not even in the slightest. And stop it with the calm, good girl act you force yourself to be. I know you more than anyone. I need you to be angry. Be angry at me. Yell at me. Fuck, slap me in the face for hurting you and making you cry! Don’t pretend you’re okay, because I know damn well you’re not!”

Luna’s head snapped up, her eyes locking with his for more than a few seconds, truly and deeply looking at him for the first time since they had caught each other outside their apartments earlier. Her eyes were red, tears welling up and threatening to spill over.

Jeonghan read her like an open book, every emotion she had tried so desperately to hide laid bare before him. And he knew— he knew— that she was lying to herself, trying to shove everything under the rug and pretend it didn’t matter.

But it did.

And it was hurting her.

Jeonghan’s heart clenched as he watched her, knowing this moment was long overdue.

Luna had been bottling up her pain for far too long.

She needed to let it out— now.

Luna’s hands trembled as she clenched them into fists at her sides, her entire body taut with the emotions she had suppressed for so long. For a brief moment, Jeonghan thought she might hold it in again, that she’d swallow the words she desperately needed to say and give him the same composed facade she always wore.

But then, her lips parted, and the dam broke.

“You want me mad?” Luna’s voice came out sharp, her tone cutting through the stillness like a blade. “You want me to scream and cry? You want me to tell you the truth? Fine!” Her voice rose, trembling slightly as her emotions began spilling out. “What do you want me to say, huh, Jeonghan? Do you want me to tell you how you’ve had me wrapped around your stupid finger since the fucking beginning?”

Jeonghan’s breath caught, but he stayed silent, letting her continue.

“Do you want me to tell you how the second you introduced yourself to me, I knew— I knew— that I needed you in my life? How every single night, I beat myself up trying to forget about my feelings for you because I couldn’t risk it? I couldn’t risk our friendship, the group, our careers, the guys’ careers! Do you want me to tell you how my heart hurts— no, how it shatters— every time you get linked with someone else, rumored with women you barely even know? And do you know what’s worse? I have no right to feel that way! None! Yet… fuck! I still do!”

Her voice cracked, but she pushed forward, her words gaining momentum as tears began to glisten in her eyes.

“Do you want to know how I cried to my mom on the phone, begging her to help me like I was a child because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding after you kissed me on the cheek for the first time when we were trainees? A stupid, innocent kiss! It was nothing to you, but it meant everything to me!”

Jeonghan’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest, guilt twisting like a knife as her voice started to tremble.

“Do you want me to tell you how much you make me feel? How much I love the way you make me feel so special, so loved, so pretty? And how much I hate it? How much I hate how I love it, because it’s you! It you, Yoon Jeonghan! It’s you who makes me feel like that, and it’s you who made me feel like I was nothing that night!”

Her voice broke, and the tears finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. She wiped at them furiously, but it was no use— they just kept coming.

“I cried myself to sleep on the floor of my apartment after you rejected me,” she admitted, her voice now raw and unsteady, her breath hitching between words. “The floor, Jeonghan. I couldn’t even make it to my bed because I thought I’d suffocate under the weight of it all.”

Jeonghan’s throat tightened, his hands curling into fists in his lap as he fought the urge to reach out to her, to stop the flood of her pain even though he knew she needed this.

“And do you want to know the worst part?” Luna’s voice dropped to a whisper, trembling with the weight of her confession. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes glistening with tears that reflected the moonlight.

“I hate how much I love you.” Her voice broke completely, and she sobbed openly now, the sound raw and anguished. “I hate it, Jeonghan. I hate how much I love you, and I hate how much it hurts to love you.”

Jeonghan couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Jiyeon—”

“No!” she cut him off, her voice rising again despite her tears. “You wanted this, right? You told me to let it out, so here it is! Here’s the truth, Yoon Jeonghan! I love you, and I hate you for making me love you this much! So much that it physically hurts me! Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you—”

Before she could finish, Jeonghan surged forward, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame and pulling her tightly into his chest.

Luna struggled against him, her fists pounding weakly against his chest as she sobbed, her frustration spilling over in the form of muffled cries and anger. “Let go of me! Let me go, Jeonghan!” she cried, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I don’t want— just let me—”

“No,” Jeonghan said firmly, his voice low but steady. He held her tighter, refusing to let her go no matter how much she fought him. “I’m not letting you go, Bae Jiyeon. Not now. Not ever.”

Luna’s struggles slowed, her fists unclenching as she slumped against him, her sobs shaking her entire body. “I hate you. I hate how much I love you,” she whispered brokenly, her words muffled against his chest.

Jeonghan squeezed his eyes shut, his chin resting lightly atop her head as he struggled to keep his composure. His own voice trembled when he spoke, filled with the weight of everything he’d been holding back. “I’m sorry, my moon. I’m so sorry.”

Luna’s cries quieted into broken hiccups as her face remained buried in Jeonghan’s chest, her tears soaking into his shirt as the weight of her pain finally found its release. Her fists, now slack against his shirt, clutched weakly at the fabric as her shoulders trembled. She mumbled against him, her voice muffled yet still laden with hurt.

“You made me feel like I was stupid for even trying,” she whispered, her words cracking under the weight of her emotions. Her chest heaved as she struggled to steady her breath, but her next words came out shakier, weaker. “Like I was crazy for thinking… for hoping…”

A sharp hiccup cut her off, and she dissolved into tears again. Jeonghan’s hand instinctively cradled the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair in an attempt to soothe her. He sighed deeply, the sound heavy with guilt and sorrow, before murmuring gently, “I know. I know, angel. And I hate myself for it.”

His voice wavered, but he kept his tone steady for her. “I was scared. I didn’t know what to do with how I felt—”

Before he could finish, Luna abruptly pushed herself out of his grip, her hands pressing against his chest until she could create enough distance between them. Her eyes met his, wide and glistening with tears, her cheeks flushed from crying. The vulnerability in her gaze was quickly overtaken by anger, sharp and raw.

“How you felt?” she snapped, her voice rising. “Han, this wasn’t just about you. It’s about me too—about us. Do you even know what it’s like to pour your heart out to someone you’ve loved for years only to have them look at you like it’s all a mistake?”

Her words hit Jeonghan like a slap, and he instinctively shook his head, the motion frantic as if it could erase the idea entirely. “No,” he said quickly, his voice firm yet pleading. “No, Jiyeon. You were never a mistake. I need you to believe that. Please.”

Luna’s lips quivered, her glare unwavering despite the fresh wave of tears brimming in her eyes.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, his own voice trembling as he continued. “I was an idiot. I am an idiot,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging as the truth spilled out of him like a confession. “I… I was scared because you mean so much to me. I told myself it would ruin everything if we tried and failed. I kept convincing myself it was better this way, safer, for both of us. I told myself all these excuses why it wouldn’t work— why I shouldn’t feel the way I feel. But they were just that… excuses. I was a coward, okay? I let my fear control me. And because of that, I hurt you. I hurt us.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he looked at her with desperate, searching eyes, as if silently begging her to understand.

Luna stared at him for a long moment, her expression etched with a mixture of disbelief and pain. Finally, she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it didn’t terrify me too?”

Jeonghan froze, his breath hitching as she spoke, her voice growing stronger with each word.

“But I still chose to try. Yes I was drunk when i confessed but I never denied it afterwards. I could’ve acted like I didn’t remember what I said but I didn’t,” she continued, her voice breaking again as tears spilled over her lashes. “Because… because loving you felt worth the risk.”

Jeonghan felt his heart shatter at her words, the weight of her pain crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Without thinking, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against her wet cheeks as he tried to catch the tears that kept falling.

“You’re braver than me,” he said softly, his voice full of admiration and regret. “You always have been.”

Luna shook her head furiously, her chest heaving with shallow, uneven breaths. Her hands came up to grip his wrists as if to push him away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I don’t feel brave, Hannie,” she hiccuped, her voice barely audible. “I feel broken.”

Her words tore through Jeonghan like a knife, and he could feel his composure slipping as she finished, her voice raw and trembling.

“You broke me,” she said, her lips quivering as another tear slid down her cheek. “And it hurts.”

Jeonghan froze as her trembling words struck him like a blow. Her tear-streaked face, her voice breaking with pain— every part of her screamed of the hurt he’d caused, and it was unbearable.

Jeonghan shook his head, his voice low but steady, desperate to reach her. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to fix it if you’ll let me,” he said, his hands firm yet gentle on her arms. “I’ll undo all the words that hurt you. Just tell me how.”

Luna’s breath hitched, her voice sharp and trembling as she shot back, “What good are words when they always just get in our way, Han?”

Her challenge hung in the air, raw and heavy, but Jeonghan didn’t falter. His brows furrowed as his dark eyes bore into hers, soft yet resolute.

“Because words matter,” he countered firmly, his voice calm and measured. “Words are what brought us to this moment. I said the wrong ones before, but I won’t stop trying until I say the right ones. I can’t give up, Bae Jiyeon. Not on you.”

Her tears continued to fall, and Jeonghan reached forward, brushing the strands of hair that clung to her damp cheeks. His fingers moved slowly, tenderly, as though she were something fragile and sacred. His hands found her face, cradling it, urging her to look up at him even as her gaze flickered uncertainly.

“Show me, my moon,” he whispered, his voice quiet yet pleading, the nickname like a soft caress. “Show me where I hurt you so that I can love you there the most.”

The words were spoken with such raw sincerity, such desperation, that they seemed to wrap around Luna’s heart and squeeze. She released a shaky breath, her eyes fluttering closed as a tear slipped free and traced a path down her cheek.

Her heart— shattered as it was— still managed to beat for him.

It always had.

It always would.

And that scared her more than anything.

“You don’t get to just say that now,” Luna said shakily, her voice cracking as she shook her head, trying to pull away but finding herself unable to. “You don’t get to show up and say everything I’ve been dying to hear after you crushed me.”

Her walls were still up, fragile but standing, and Jeonghan could see her fear, her need to protect herself. But he wasn’t going to let her go. Not this time.

“I told the moon about you, Jiyeonie,” he murmured softly, and the words made her freeze.

Luna let out a broken sob as her head dropped onto his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt. Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her close as she cried, his hand stroking her back in soothing circles.

“I told the moon about how I wanted to dedicate a song to you after I met you for the first time,” he continued, his voice trembling but unwavering. “I told the moon about how your laugh feels like the answer to every question I didn’t know I was asking. About how you hum to yourself when you think no one is listening, and it’s my favorite sound in the world.”

He gently pulled her head off his shoulder, his hands finding their way to her face again, cupping it as he cradled her, his thumbs brushing away her tears. Her red-rimmed eyes stared into his, her lips trembling as he spoke.

“I told the moon about the way your nose scrunches up when you’re concentrating. About how you never finish a cup of tea but insist on making it anyway because the ritual calms you. I told the moon how you bite your lip when you’re nervous and how it drives me crazy because I want to kiss you every time you do it.”

Luna’s breath hitched, her tears spilling over again as she listened, her heart simultaneously breaking and healing with every word.

“I told the moon about my regrets,” Jeonghan admitted, his voice cracking. “About every time I hurt you, every time I held back because I was too scared to face what I was feeling. I told the moon about how it’s just the hardest thing to love you but not know how. So I spent all my nights in the dark, afraid. Afraid because I tried to forget you, but these things— you— just don’t go away.”

His voice grew softer, more vulnerable. “I hate that you’re so perfect,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest, saddest smile. “So perfect for me… made for me.”

Luna closed her eyes as a fresh wave of tears escaped, her hands coming up to grip his wrists, holding onto him as though she might crumble without the contact.

“The excuses I gave you… none of them mattered,” Jeonghan continued, his voice steadying as he poured his heart out. “Because the truth is, Nana-ya, I love you. I’ve loved you for longer than I can even admit to myself.”

His hands slipped from her face to rest on her shoulders as he leaned closer, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that made her chest tighten. “I love the way you brighten every room you walk into. I love the way you care for the people around you, how you give so much of yourself even when you have nothing left to give. I love the way you see the world, how you find beauty in places no one else would even think to look.”

He paused, his gaze softening as he added, “I love you, Bae Jiyeon. All of you. The good, the bad, the messy, the beautiful. I love you more than words can ever say, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to show you, if you’ll let me.”

Luna’s tears fell freely now, her breath hitching as her hands clutched at his shirt, grounding herself in him. Her walls, the ones she’d fought so hard to keep up, began to crumble, piece by piece, under the weight of his love.

Jeonghan’s voice broke as he continued, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone like he was trying to erase the pain he had caused. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know the truth. I pushed you away because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought you deserved someone who wasn’t going to mess up. But the truth is… the thought of losing you terrified me more than anything else.”

Luna’s breath hitched, her voice trembling as she whispered, “And yet, you still let me go.”

Her eyes opened, glistening with unshed tears as she searched his face, her expression filled with a mixture of heartbreak and disbelief.

Jeonghan swallowed hard, shaking his head almost frantically. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, okay? I thought I was protecting us, but all I did was hurt you. I can’t take that back, but I can promise you that I’ll never make that mistake again.”

She closed her eyes briefly, her shoulders sagging as though the weight of the past months bore down on her all at once. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I spent so much time these past couple of months convincing myself that maybe… maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”

Jeonghan’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he stared at her, shaking his head with conviction. His voice was firm, urgent, as if he could will her to believe him. “No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that, Jiyeon-ah. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it for me. I was just too blind to see it in time.”

He reached for her hands, holding them tightly between his own as his voice softened but lost none of its determination. “Please… please don’t give up on us. Let me prove it to you. Let me prove that I’m not going to hurt you again. I’ll do whatever it takes, Jiyeonie. I’ll wait as long as you need. I’ll fight for us, for you, for our friendship. Just… just don’t shut me out.”

Luna’s fingers trembled as they wrapped around his wrist, her grip weak but steadying as she brought his hand down from her face and held it in her lap. Her voice was soft but resolute, her gaze piercing as she finally met his eyes. “You can’t just fix this overnight, Han. We can’t go back to how things were. If we’re going to try again… we need to fix our friendship first. We were friends first. We need to rebuild what broke before anything else.”

Her words hung in the air between them, weighted with truth and the hope of something new. Jeonghan nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he absorbed her words.

Despite the desperation in his heart to hold her close and never let go, he knew she was right.

“I know we can’t go back to the way we were,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. “And I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward— with you. I’ll be better. We’ll be better. I’ll start wherever you need me to. As friends, as strangers— just tell me how to fix this. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I’ll earn your trust back, your love, everything. Just… don’t give up on me.”

Luna exhaled a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around his wrist as her gaze softened. “I’m not giving up on you. I never gave up on you. But this time, it’s going to be on my terms.”

Jeonghan’s lips parted, and he nodded without hesitation, his sincerity clear in every word he spoke. “Your terms, always. I’ll wait. I’ll work for it. Just… thank you for giving me the chance to make this right.”

Luna’s lips curved into a faint, tired smile, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly as she spoke, her voice lighter than before, though still tinged with lingering sadness. “Well, the heart wants what it wants.”

Jeonghan’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at her, his expression one of reverence, like she was the moon and the stars shining down on them, lighting his path. “It does. And mine wants you. Always has, always will.”

He spoke the words with such quiet certainty, his gaze never wavering from hers.

In that moment, the air around them felt still, as though the universe itself had paused to bear witness to the weight of their emotions, the unspoken promises lingering in the space between their hearts.

Jeonghan gently pulled away from Luna, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin. His lips curved into a teasing smile, the kind that used to infuriate her and had always held the power to disarm her. “I can’t wait to tell the little boy,” he said, his tone light and mischievous.

Luna blinked at him, her brows furrowing in confusion. “What little boy?” she asked, her voice laced with equal parts exasperation and bewilderment.

“The little boy fishing on the moon. The man in the moon, remember?” Jeonghan replied, his grin widening as he referenced the conversation they’d had years ago at the Han River during one of their first late-night talks as trainees.

Luna’s jaw slackened slightly before she snapped it shut, shaking her head. “That’s not– He’s not–” She let out a breath, her shoulders sagging in mock defeat. “You’re an idiot.”

Jeonghan laughed softly, the sound rich and familiar, like a song she hadn’t realized she missed. “I know. We’ve been through this,” he said, the humor in his tone softening into affection as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She didn’t move away, didn’t flinch. Instead, her eyes fluttered shut, savoring the moment before she opened them again and met his gaze.

Despite the magnetic pull between them, the kind that had always existed and only seemed stronger now, they both knew the truth.

They couldn’t rush this, not yet.

The more mature parts of themselves— the ones hardened by heartbreak and regret— understood the importance of rebuilding the foundation of their relationship.

Their friendship was the cornerstone of everything they were to each other, and if they wanted to build something lasting, something unshakable, they had to fix what had been broken first.

Neither of them wanted to wait.

They wanted to dive into each other’s arms, to silence the ache with whispered promises and stolen kisses. But they respected the process, respected each other too much to risk repeating their mistakes.

They had taken the first step tonight, had opened the door to healing by airing their frustrations, their fears, and their truths.

Luna had cried until her chest ached, and Jeonghan had been there to hold her. Jeonghan had confessed his regrets, his love, his hopes, and Luna had listened, her presence steady even as her tears fell. They had yelled, voices raised as years of pent-up emotions spilled out, but even in their anger, there had been a yearning to understand.

They were in love.

That much was clear to both of them now.

But love alone wouldn’t be enough if they didn’t have a solid foundation to stand on.

So, Jeonghan promised to work for it, to make it worth it.

Luna promised to trust the process and let him prove himself.

Even so, in the quiet recesses of their hearts, they both knew that it was only a matter of time before the fire between them ignited even more, before the spark that had always been there became impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t a question of if they would cross that line, but when.

And they both felt, deep down, that the moment would come soon.

The universe, it seemed, had been on their side all along.

The anxiety that had drowned Luna earlier in suffocating waves, the restlessness that had driven her to the Han River in search of solace, had carried her back to her island— Jeonghan.

And Jeonghan, who had sought to talk to the moon to share his frustrations and to make sense of the ache in his chest, had found himself drawn by gravity to his moon— Luna.

As they sat there in the stillness of the night, the city lights twinkling like distant stars, Jeonghan reached for her hand once more, and this time, she didn’t hesitate to take it. Their fingers intertwined, and though the path ahead was uncertain, the warmth in their joined hands was a promise.

Together, they would find their way.

They always do.

For the tides, ruled by the moon, carried Luna from the depths to the island of Jeonghan’s soul.

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[librarygarten]

Hi!!! It’s the speedrun anon that talked about Wild fighting Ganon with a pot lid and spoon :3

I am so happy you wrote a lil series on my idea!!! It really means a lot ❤️

I had another idea, because I’m crazy—in the Linked Universe comic, when Twilight gets hit by Dink and is basically dying, I was thinking about his wound and how they treated it…

Since it takes place in Medieval times, how clean was the actual wound before Hyrule started healing it?? A fun idea I had was: Ikesai!Reader using modern medicine to help treat Twilight (and the others as they traveled)

Pain meds, Neosporin, bandaids with fun patterns on them—maybe even a first aid kit if they knew they were going somewhere dangerous. Reader would treat small cuts and they’d heal quicker overtime without using magic. It saves a lot of time, energy, and money for the group; Hyrule doesn’t have to use his magic as much, potions aren’t wasted on smaller wounds, and none of they’re wounds are infected!!

I feel like the climax of reader using these methods would be Twilight’s injury; they ask Wars to go to the nearest bar and grab the strongest alcohol there, they ask Legend for a needle and some fishing line, and ask Hyrule to using magic to numb the pain of the wound.

Unwrapping Twilight’s bandages, with alcohol and needle in hand, Reader begins to sew up Twilight’s wound. It’s crude and disgusting, using only found objects and most likely mead to sterilize the needle and fishing line. Most would leave the room, but Hyrule would have to basically sit there and watch this random person sew up a wound like they were fixing a tear in fabric.

Once the wound is sewn up and cleaned, it looks a lot better than it did before. There is still the strange magic surrounding the cut but at least it’s closed up now. Reader’s hands are bloodly and smell like mead, but at least Twilight’s wound isn’t making him bleed out.

It healed quicker once Hyrule began to use healing magic on him again, the dark magic around the wound is in a more condensed area so it’s easier to dispel. The only problem…is that Reader has to take out the thread, and this time, Twilight’s awake.

—🌾 Anon (I’ve never named myself in anonymous I hope that’s okay :))

Yay! My first emoji anon :D Sorry this took so long! I got way too carried away learning about medieval medicine lol. I kind of skipped right to when Twi's injured because it was already 2k words long and an intro would have most likely doubled the word count askdfsl.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” You chant it like a mantra. The entire way back to the village. The entire time it took to drag Twilight off Epona and up the stairs as Time arranges your lodging with the innkeeper.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” Twilight tells you for the fifth time. He still seems cross that he was benched from the fight, but his voice has much less bite behind it now.

You’re losing him.

“It is not ‘just a scratch,’ Link!” You scold. You can feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes. The use of his real name seems to bring him back a bit, but his eyes are still too unfocused for your liking.

Too much blood. He’s lost too much blood.

You remove one of your hands from his side, where you had been trying desperately to apply pressure to the wound. Your entire hand is soaked in blood.

“Press down here, okay.” You move Twilight’s hand to where yours had been, only taking your other hand off when you’re sure he’s properly applying pressure. “Don’t stop, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Before he can answer, you bolt out of the room and back down the stairs. You run headfirst into Time.

“Woah! Careful,” he says. He looks at your hands, covered in blood past the wrists, and winces. He holds up a pile of white cloth. “I got bandages from the innkeeper.”

“That’s not going to be enough.” You scrunch up your nose at the bandages. They looked clean, but you doubt they were properly sterilized. The one drawback to having fairies and potions magically heal everything is that these people had absolutely no idea how to treat a wound without them. “Go to the kitchen and get vinegar and honey. And see if the innkeeper has any silk thread. If not, try whatever craft store equivalent you guys have.”

Time can only watch as you take the bandages from his hands and rush back up the stairs. After a quick stop to wash your hands, you practically sprint back to the room.

Twilight is still conscious when you get back, thank Hylia, but he doesn’t turn his head to look at you when you come in.

“I’m back.” You tell him as you kneel next to the bed.

“Don’t sound so worried. It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” He smiles. “You were only gone for 30 seconds.”

“You were coughing up blood, Twi!” You peel his shirt away from the wound and quickly press some of the bandages Time had given you against the wound. It would have to do for now. “That means that the thing cracked your ribs and one of those ribs punctured your lungs.”

“I’m pretty sure the fairy took care of that.” He winces as you press even harder against the cut. 

The blood won’t stop.

Before you can descend into hopelessness, the door bursts open. You jump at the noise, and turn to see Hyrule in the doorway, with Four close behind. They both look out of breath.

“So it’s true… it really is him.” Hyrule gasps. “I think I can help.”

“Fairy didn’t do anything.” You sigh, removing one of your hands to wipe the hair away from your face. The color drains from the two heroes' faces when they see the blood.

“I have a life spell.” Hyrule’s palms glow blue as he hovers them over Twilight’s body.

Nothing happens.

His brow furrows as he tries again. He thrusts his hands forward.

Nothing.

“No!” Hyrule cries. Twilight seems to have finally passed out from the blood loss.

“Crap,” you mutter. “Where the heck is Time with that thread and antiseptic.”

“Here.” The old man in question pushes past Four, who seems to be clinging to the doorway for support. He hands you a bottle of vinegar, a jar of honey, and a spool of silk thread with a needle stabbed into the side.

“Great, thanks.” You nod at him. “Rulie, keep that spell going if you can. The wound may not be healing but he had some internal injuries that I want to make sure won’t be an issue. The fairy stopped halfway through and I’m not about to do DIY surgery to remove shattered rib pieces from his lungs.”

Hyrule presses his lips together in a thin line and nods. His hands glow once more as he performs the life spell. You peel away the bandages you had been pressing against Twilight’s side.

“Sorry, buddy. This is going to sting,” you apologize, then pour the water from your canteen over the wound. The old blood washes away, only to be replaced rather quickly by more from the cut.

“What are you doing?” Time asks when you pick up the needle and thread.

“Stitches.” Is all you say as you hold the needle over the candle on the nightstand. Hopefully the heat will disinfect it somewhat.

“You're just going to… what, sew him back together like a torn shirt?” Four looks ready to puke as you begin sewing the wound. Time looks away, trying to ignore the faint sound of the needle sliding through bloody flesh. Hyrule can’t seem to look away, gaze locked on your hands.

“Magic isn’t working to close it,” you grimace. “This is how we close large wounds back home.”

“I know you said you didn’t have any magic where you lived, but this…” Hyrule swallows, hands still over Twilight as he casts the life spell.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Four covers his mouth with one hand as you continue your work. “I’ll go see Epona is comfortable or something.” He rushes down the stairs so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t trip down them.

“Eh. Probably for the better. Too many people in here probably isn’t a good idea right now, anyway,” you cut the thread, satisfied with your stitches. They looked almost professional, with nice, even spacing. But you would have time to be proud later. Time to make sure infection didn’t get in there.

“How long will he be out for?” Time makes a point to look only at your face as he asks the question. Maybe he should leave, too. Watching you couldn’t be good for his health.

“Hard to tell. He’s lost a lot of blood,” you explain as you pour the vinegar into the honey and mix it together. “Do fairies and life spells fix blood loss?”

“I have… no idea,” Hyrule lowers his hands. He looks exhausted. He must have expended every last bit of energy casting that life spell for this long. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wound bleed this long.”

“Great,” you groan. Hopefully the magic could deal with the blood loss like it dealt with broken ribs and punctured lungs, because there was no way to tell anyone’s blood type here and you did NOT want to play roulette with a blood transfusion.

“What are you doing?” Time asks again. His voice is tense as you begin spreading the vinegar-honey mixture over Twilight’s wound. You have half a mind to kick him out of the room right there, but he’s technically the family of the patient. Still, if he was going to breathe down your neck the whole time you wouldn’t have much choice.

“It will keep out infections. The vinegar and honey are really good at keeping bacteria out,” you wipe your hands off on your pants, trying to get as much of the honey off your hands as possible before reaching for your canteen again. You wash your hands again, just to be safe, before reaching for the pile of remaining bandages.

“Bacteria? What’s that?” Hyrule asks.

“Very, very small organisms that can cause infections if they get into the wound,” you sigh. You don’t have the time to explain germ theory to them right now. You wrap the bandages around Twilight’s abdomen as tightly as possible. Vinegar-honey oozes from under the bandages, and even now, you can see the deep red of Twilight’s blood seeping through.

Crap. This was going to be a long night.

The next few days pass in a blur. Check the wound. Change the bandages. Try to measure Twilight’s heart rate with just your hand and a watch (his pulse seems okay. Hyrule’s spell must be dealing with the blood loss). Shoo people out of the room. Check the wound. Change the bandages. Try not to fall asleep.

When you’re not watching over Twilight, you’re taking care of an exhausted Hyrule. Using the spell so much for so long was taking a toll on him. He looked about as tired as you felt.

Still, Twilight was improving. Most of the color was back in his cheeks, and he kept waking up to say random depressing things before passing back out. Maybe that's why you finally let yourself drift off into sleep, sat on a stool and slumped over the side of the bed.

The feeling of someone rubbing your hair wakes you.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes snap open. Twilight is awake. He’s propped up against the headboard of the bed, his fingers threaded through your hair.

“Please tell me you slept while I was out,” he laughs, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. He’s worried about you.

Hey! That was your job!

“You scared me half to death!” You sit up and punch his shoulder. Now that he’s finally awake, you have an earful and a half to give him. “What on earth were you thinking, sprinting towards that thing!?”

“Ow,” he chuckles.

“Don’t worry. The old man and the captain already chewed him out,” Wild snickers from somewhere behind you. Looking around, you see the entire chain scattered about the room.

“Good,” you flop your head back onto the mattress. Your eyes still ache from so many sleepless nights. “How long was I out?”

“Nearly half a day,” Legend snickers.

“Crap,” you groan. Twilight’s bandages should have been changed hours ago. “Did anyone change the bandages? Please tell me you washed your hands before. Oh, and did you apply the antiseptic?”

“Easy there, doc,” Warriors places a hand on your shoulder. “The wound has pretty much closed thanks to you and Hyrule.”

“WHAT?” You bolt upright again. “It should have taken at least a week, maybe two!”

“Magic finally started working on it while you were out,” Hyrule explains. Great. Just great.

“Then I need to take the stitches out,” you press your knuckles into your eyelids, trying to dispel your pounding headache.

“Stitches?” Wind asks.

“They sewed him back together like a garment,” Four grimaces.

“But then shouldn’t the stitches stay in and keep him… together?” Sky peers around your shoulder as you unwrap the bandages. He gags when he sees the cut, which was now just a long red line across Twilight’s stomach and lower chest. Wind tries to elbow his way to see as well, but Sky stops him.

You get up to wash your hands, and when you come back, Twilight is poking at the stitches.

“Don’t touch it!” You swat his hand away. “I didn’t make my own antiseptic for you just so you could infect the cut after it’s mostly healed!”

“You really did just… sew me closed,” he sounds shocked.

“Yep. Now hold still,” you carefully cut each stitch, removing the thread, small beads of blood forming where the stitches used to be. He winces at the feeling. Time watches closely, knuckles white as he grips the footboard of the bed.

“Woah. All that was inside his skin?” Wind stares dumbfoundedly at the pile of knots you removed. You nod, and keep working.

“There,” you sigh as the last bit of thread is removed. “Just keep the area clean and you should be good.”

“Do you do this every time people get hurt in your world?” Legend raises an eyebrow.

“No. Stitches are just for bigger cuts,” you explain.

There’s a moment of silence before Wind speaks up.

“Can I get stitches?” He asks excitedly. A chorus of nine voices responds.

“No!” 

Notes:

Vinegar has antiseptic properties, while alcoholic drinks do not due to their low alcohol percentage. Honey, an ingredient found in mead, has some antiseptic properties, meaning mead also could be used to disinfect a wound, but a combination of honey and vinegar seems to be more effective.

Today, most stitches are made of synthetic fibers. Fishing line is also made of synthetic fibers, like nylon. However, in the medieval period, fishing line was most likely made of nettle-hemp. Today, fishing line would be a great material for stitches. However, I think silk, which is still occasionally used today, might be a better option (silk was also used to make fishing line, but it seems only after the industrial revolution got started).

Also, stitches don’t hurt coming out. I had stitches in my foot (a pretty sensitive area) as a kid. I also have an incredibly low pain tolerance and an intense fear of needles. You can kind of feel them pull, and if you’re squeamish you might freak yourself out, but it definitely doesn’t hurt. Although, I once heard of a doctor that didn’t undo the knots, thus pulling the entire thread of knots through the skin, which would absolutely hurt like hell, but that was because of his incompetence lol.

I made it so reader doesn't see the magic around the cut, as I think isekai and modern readers would have a harder time noticing it. We don't have magic, so we would probably not recognize it if we saw or felt it. It is still very much there.

[redo-rewind-if]

Redo; Rewind Demo Update - Chapter 4

This update adds: Over 30k words (including code)!!

Features:

Avoid your original death! Or don't. You can just die. And die. And die.

Head into work for a fun surprise! Courtesy of V!

Use your time powers to fix yet another problem of August's creation!

Attend a meeting at a dilapidated warehouse because if there's one thing criminals love it's cliches.

FUCK !!!

I can finally say the update is here!! I'm sorry it took me so long, especially given how short it is... A lot of that had to do with real life stuff slowing my progress down unfortunately.

I did also decide to end the chapter in an earlier place than originally intended, and have moved the later content to the start of chapter 5. It's not a huge amount that was moved, but given the chapter length I do still feel somewhat bad about it...

I sincerely hope all of you enjoy it regardless!! And please do let me know if you run into any bugs or other issues. I did my best when it came to bug testing but there's always a chance I missed something.

[Link] - Demo Update, Available Here!

(Make sure to start with a fresh save to avoid possible bugs caused by the old ones!)

[with-my-calamitous-love]

YOUR HEART WAS GLASS, I DROPPED IT ❆

katsuki bakugou x reader

on a cold winter night, you open the door for your warm, ex boyfriend katsuki.

part 2/2. i’m sorry tumblrs not letting me link anything atm :(

inspired by champagne problems

katsuki booked his flight home at night for a reason.

it was dark, meaning no one really would be out. he wanted to be alone and sit there in his hurt. he wasn’t sure what he hated more- the bustling crowds or silent sleepers. both of them had a clear absence of you.

the winter chill seeps into his bones as he waits outside your door. after the phone hangs up, we anxiously wonders if you’ll even answer it. its -26°, and he can only imagine your bundled up in there. its the place he left you standing before hoping on a plane and abandoning what he had with you.

he’s about to turn away, before he hears your voice. “get in here, it’s freezing.”

he immediately obliges, stepping into the familiar space. crimson eyes stare at you, noticing your different appearance. you’ve cut your hair and pierced your ears. theres an ache in his chest seeing you for the first time again. suddenly the apartment began to feel much warmer.

“your hair. its… shorter.” he awkwardly mutters like a teenage boy asking you to a dance.

“uh, yeah. i wanted a change.” you chuckle, no less uncomfortable than him.

he wants to take your hand, but he’s scared he’ll drop it again. your place was cozy, yet crestfallen. he remembered you told him you never particularly enjoyed living alone. you lead him to the living room. there, he sees your cats cuddling, slightly jealous of the companionship they share.

its here he notices that its still chilly, albeit not as cold as outside. he quickly clutches his hands around the warm cup of tea you bring him, taking in the mundane sounds of your apartment. leftovers on the stove, the dripping of the sink, and the soft snores of your feline companions.

“sorry, my heaters still broken.” you apologetically quip, sitting down next to him on the couch. katsuki mentally facepalms himself for that. he said he’d fix it for you before he left.

“yeah. guess i forgot about that.” he says, barely looking you in the eye. if he was gonna break up with you, leave you stranded and hop on a flight out of the country, you think the least he could do is make sure you stayed warm- but no.

“why didn’t you get it fixed yourself?” he asks, his usual gruff voice replaced by a particular softness for you.

you just shrug. “i don’t know. i never got around to it. winter came early.”

the both of you remember when you first got together. he told his family for a reason. he was so excited, saying he found the one. a few months later, no one was celebrating.

love slipped beyond his reaches the day he began doubting himself. he wasn’t good enough for you. becoming the #1 hero in his country only made him wonder more about his worth. he could barely give a reason towards the break up, instead spewing out that he needed to think things through instead.

“..how was your trip?” you break the silence, though you know the answer. his trip was great. the media wouldn’t shut up about it. about his parties and award shows, about the lives he saved and the talents he has. they particularly the people, more so the girls he was with. though you decided not to bring that part up.

he paused for a moment. he knew you would say something about it soon. he was being watched and photographed everywhere he went, which included a few girls who got some videos and pictures with him.

“it was exhausting, more than fun. you know all those girls only care about publicity and attention, none of it was real.” he sighs, taking a sip of his tea.

“i didn’t bring up girls.” you’re quick to remind him. though its nice how he’s so quick to assure any doubts you may have. “but… yeah. i figured as much.”

“you know nothing happened between me and anyone you saw, right?” he asks in a tone that makes it sound like it should be obvious- but its not. katsuki could have went home with someone else, done illicit drugs, drank and had unprotected sex, and it wouldn’t be any of your business.

“it… wouldn’t matter anymore if you did. we broke up before you left, remember?” you say.

theres nothing with katsuki’s memory. he thinks about that break up every damn night.

“um.. least you had kirishima with you.” you quip, just trying to lighten the mood. you get a genuine smile out of the blonde.

“yeah. shitty hair was annoying, as usual.” he chuckles fondly. only best friends can refer to each other like that.

shitty hair was also the guy that kept katsuki from doing something, or rather someone, he might regret. he knows his best friend and he knows where his feelings lie.

katsuki was midas. everything he touched turned to gold. and people adored him for it, revelling in the fame and fortune. but with that superpower comes consequences. not everything should b shiny and gold. sure, his midas touch on the chevy door looked beautiful, but you two could never actually drive it. your relationship shimmered and glistened, but it never went anywhere.

but for a moment, things were good. you’d laugh and smile with your group of friends- though after the breakup you believed you’d never say that word again. now, those friends have the nerve to deck the halls that katsuki once loved you in.

he never was ready, so you watched him go. neither of you just didn’t know the answer, even after begging him to stay on your knees.

you would have made such a lovely bride. what a shamed he’s fucked in the head. even though to him you were the real thing.

he still has your picture in his wallet. he wants to your hold hand dancing, and never leave you like he did ever again.

“…what happened to us, anyway?” he dares to ask, his whisper speaking volumes in the silence. he knows the answer. he knows why he did what he did. but you suppose he wants to know what you think.

“one moment you love me, and your promising to fix my heater… next thing i know, you’ve gotta think things through. and then you’re on a plane to los angeles.”

he flinches at that. kind of a dick move on his part, not explaining things and immediately fleeing the country afterwards. to be fair, it was a pr trip he had planned months before, but if that wasn’t the case he’d still book a spontaneous trip to alberta or somewhere, like the coward he is.

he feels the most guilt when you bring up the heater he said he’d fix. it wasn’t the only thing he promised you. he swore you’d always be loved, that you’d never be alone, and yet he couldn’t even give you a god damn warm apartment for the winter.

“i did love you.” he attempts to correct you, though you focus only on one word.

“did?” you ask, hesitantly.

he pauses again, realizing his slip up.

“…i do love you.”

you shake your head silently, eyes welling up with tears. one falls into your cup of tea. “don’t… don’t say that just to make me feel better, kats.”

but he’s not. he’s saying it because he means it. he’s saying it because he’s kept his mothers ring in his pocket, preparing for the moment he’ll make it your ring.

at this point, he can tell the cold is getting to you. your shaking slightly, your loose sweater respectfully doing nothing to shield you from the winter air. a broken heater neglected by a shitty ex-boyfriend is enough cold.

“you’re cold?” he asks. “no, i’m warm.” you answer sarcastically. its his fault for asking.

he debates on it for a moment. normally, he wouldn’t think twice before pulling you into his embrace. but now, he worries. he wonders if thats even what you want. his quirk keeps him warm enough, but you don’t have that. seeing your reaction to the bitter winter air pushes him to a decision.

“c’mere.”

maybe its the cold, the ache in your heart missing him, or some combination of both, but you don’t think twice before shuffling over to him on the couch as he wraps his arms around you. your head lays against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

god, he missed this. even the warmth of LA didn’t compare to holding you on a chilled night.

“you’re the worst.” you whisper, obviously still angry and heartbroken, yet still in his embrace. “i love you.”

those words feel like a confession. he takes it, both the proclamation of his faults and the admission that you still love him. both are true.

“i love you too, dumbass.” he says. “and i’m not just saying that.”

you perk your head up slightly, finally asking the million-dollar question: “..then why’d you break things off?”

he looks at you. he knows exactly why. but he’s not sure if he can break it to you yet. ultimately, he decides you deserve the truth.

with a sigh, he finally speaks. “i… i don’t know. i thought it would be better for you. i thought you’d be happier without me dragging you down, babe.”

you look into his red eyes and determine that he is, in fact, telling the truth- despite how fabricated it sounds. katsuki bakugou, the incredible #1 hero who was the best of the best, thought he wasn’t good enough?

yeah, thats exactly the case. because even through his heroic outside, katsuki wondered if you deserved more. or better.

he sees the confusion in your eyes and decided to explain his thoughts further. “i thought you’d be better off without me, with someone else. i thought you’d find someone better than me who didn’t have such a shitty personality, someone who you’d be better with.”

you shake your head, making sure he hears you. “i know you’ve been doubting yourself since you became #1… wondering if you’re good enough or not, but… i thought you’d at least know you’re good enough for me.”

its crazy to him how easy it was for his fears to die down if he had just talked to you in the first place. he’s learned his lesson.

so he nods, pressing a kiss and an “i’m sorry” to your forehead. you continue talking to him.

“you’re shitty, and you’re kind of an asshole.” you chuckle. “you’re also really sweet when it counts. you remember things about me. you fix things, i guess except for my heater… you’re good to me. you try. you try harder with me than with anything else in your life.”

he couldn’t help but smile a little at the truth in your words. even counting his time in UA, his relentless training to become a hero, katsuki tried the hardest to become better for you. “yeah. you make me wanna change.”

he presses his forehead to yours, just relishing in the newfound warmth. he’s happy, content.

“lets call it even.” you whisper, fingers intertwining with his. “i didn’t think i was good enough for you either.”

he almost scoffs at that. “you’re an idiot for thinkin’ that.”

you roll your eyes. “so are you.”

tags! 🫧

@dragonscribble @rayleeya @brisklofitea @saceaseeds