#im sorry this is long but things had to be said

[yaniluvs]

a song , that sounds like you

[ 한 ] ✷ ‎. . sleepover with your best friend, just like before. except that . . it isn't ?

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑏sf!han ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , best friends to lovers , uni au , skz ensemble . 71OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. kisses , jokes , intimacy . ┆ 💌 ⋮ requested drabble .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍��ܓ THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ~I.5K WORDS. yani, dont over-write and turn every simple thing into a longfic challenge: go-> status: failed. THATS WHY I TOOK SO LONG. but anyways.... i read this like a gazillion times and im very slightly unhappy about it????? idk. but i got sick of it at some point so i didnt rly proofread for the final time. soooo finally another jisung fic lol >< posted way too much abt seungmo.. not that im complaining hehe. tribute to my beloved permed-jisung and pre-shaved jisung🙏 you're missed plenty. enjoy reading, thanks to anon for the req. <3 comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

the night felt like any other. it was nothing new. nothing unusual.

jisung had crashed at y/n’s dorm more times than he could count, so many that they’d stopped calling it a "sleepover" years ago. it was just… what they did.

tonight was no different—except maybe it was.

jisung flopped onto her bed dramatically, limbs splayed out like a starfish. "i'm dying."

y/n, arms crossed, raised an unimpressed brow. "you literally just walked in."

"my point." he turned his head toward her, grinning wide, dimples pressing into his cheeks. "the walk from my dorm to yours? brutal. my legs almost gave up. i nearly saw the light. i need some support here,"

"what you need is exercise, ji," she laughed, already walking past him toward the kitchen. "come on lazy ass, we’re cooking."

jisung groaned, rolling onto his stomach. "cooking? can’t we order food? delivery is, like, the peak of human civilization."

"you mean the peak of your laziness."

"same thing."

"you’re cooking today."

jisung immediately sat up. "i’m sorry, what?"

"you heard me."

"y/n, have you ever seen me successfully make anything that isn’t watered-down instant ramen or burnt eggs?"

"exactly why you need to learn." she shot him a knowing smile, opening the fridge. "come on, chef-nim, apron up."

jisung scoffed. "you act like i own an apron."

"you act like i don't have a spare." she tossed a black apron his way. he caught it with a dramatic sigh, slipping it over his tee. "this is humiliating."

y/n simply tied her own apron around her waist, moving swiftly around the kitchen. jisung, however, stood in the middle of it like he was lost in a foreign land.

"so," he said, rocking on his heels, "what are we making, masterchef?"

"some fried rice, with stir-fry for the sides."

"sounds safe enough. do i get a knife?" his eyes lightened up.

y/n turned to him, eyes full of doubt, hands on her hips. "do i look like i trust you with a knife?"

he clutched his chest. "ouch."

"jisung, the last time you touched a knife, you almost lost a finger."

"it was one time!"

"one time too many." she handed him a bowl instead. "crack the eggs."

"i can do that," he said confidently.

y/n watched as he picked up an egg, tapped it on the edge of the bowl—nothing. he hit it again. still intact.

"jisung."

"hold on, it's just being stubborn."

"you're literally supposed to—"

before she could finish, he smacked the egg with full force. it exploded in his hand, yolk dripping between his fingers. he blinked.

"…okay. that was aggressive."

y/n burst out laughing. "oh, good lord.."

"why are you laughing?! this is tragic!" he held up his hand dramatically, as if he'd just lost a battle.

she wiped away tears of laughter. "you’re such a disaster."

"and yet you still keep me around."

"i really question why, sometimes."

jisung wiggled his eyebrows. "because you love me."

"debatable."

"wow. you wound me."

she handed him another egg. "try again, but gently this time."

he pouted but followed her instructions. on the second try, he succeeded. barely. a little bit of shell fell into the bowl, but he picked it out quickly, flashing her a victorious grin.

"see? improvement."

y/n shook her head with a fond smile. "barely."

as she moved on to frying the rice, jisung leaned against the counter, watching her. the warm glow of the kitchen lights softened her features, and the way she effortlessly moved around—it was second nature to her.

"you're so good at this," he murmured absentmindedly.

she glanced up. "at what?"

"everything," he said simply.

her movements stilled for a second before she rolled her eyes, turning back to the pan. "corny."

"honest."

she pushed his forehead lightly with her fingers. "shut up and hand me the soy sauce."

jisung grinned, grabbing the bottle and sliding it over the counter toward her. "see? i am useful."

"debatable."

jisung gasped. "you really enjoy hurting me, huh?"

y/n only smiled as she stirred the rice.

they fell into a comfortable silence after that—jisung humming some random tune, y/n focusing on the food. it was normal. routine. nothing new.

except maybe it was.

because jisung found himself staring at her a little longer than usual.

and yn, for some reason, felt a little warmer than the stove’s heat should allow.

the aroma of warm rice, sizzling kimchi, and soy sauce had filled the small dorm, wrapping them in the kind of comfort that only home-cooked food could bring. y/n hummed softly as she scooped the steaming fried rice onto two plates, making sure to add an extra spoonful to her best friend's because she already knew he’d ask.

jisung, sprawled out on the floor like he had no bones in his body, watched her with a lazy grin. "you really know how to treat a man."

"you’re more of a babygirl, but okay," she replied without missing a beat, setting the plates down on the small coffee table in front of them.

"excuse me? i am very much a grown adult."

"sure," she snorted. "a grown adult who can't crack an egg."

jisung gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "low blow."

yn only grinned as she grabbed the remote, flipping on the tv. they didn't even bother picking something to watch—just let some random show play in the background while she scrolled through a playlist on her phone.

and just like that, the room filled with their favorite songs.

the playlist hummed in the background, weaving through the warm, dimly lit dorm like a familiar embrace. soft indie melodies blended into old tracks from their high school days, each song a quiet echo of late-night car rides and whispered confessions. nestled between them were jisung’s own songs—songs he had written on restless nights, songs y/n had begged him to release, songs he pretended not to care about being in the playlist but secretly loved seeing there.

the air smelled of soy sauce and garlic. jisung sat cross-legged on the couch, his loose shirt and plaid pajama pants slightly wrinkled. his fluffy brown hair that he'd recently gotten permed, much to y/n's pleading, was tousled, curls falling over his forehead, casting soft shadows over his sleepy eyes. he scooped up a bite of fried rice, humming in approval as he chewed, blissfully unaware of the way y/n was watching him.

she sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, chin resting lazily against them, gaze fixed on him with a softness even she didn’t notice. he looked so at home, so effortlessly him, sitting there with his cheeks puffed out from the food she made, eyes drooping slightly from exhaustion. a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

he always ate with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t had a proper meal in days, shoveling food into his mouth like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“you’re staring,” his voice came, teasing yet laced with fondness.

y/n blinked, heat creeping up her neck as she quickly looked away. “i am not.”

jisung grinned, swallowing another bite. “liar.”

but he didn’t press further. he only smirked to himself, going back to his food, pretending he didn’t notice the way she studied him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

what he wouldn’t admit—what he barely admitted to himself—was that he did the same thing.

when y/n wasn’t paying attention, lost in the flickering candlelight of their tiny dorm, jisung found himself staring. he always did. the glow of the fairy lights made her skin look softer, her features delicate and warm. her hair, slightly messy from their earlier chaos in the kitchen, framed her face in a way that made his heart ache.

she was wearing her pyjama set, and the sleeves were bunched up around her fists as she absentmindedly traced circles against the couch cushion, after a bite herself.

she was beautiful. in the quiet, in the soft spaces between their banter, in the way she existed in his world so effortlessly.

“now,” she called out suddenly, breaking him from his trance. “you’re staring.”

his breath caught in his throat, but he recovered quickly, flashing his usual cheeky grin. “i am not.”

“liar.”

their laughter mingled with the music, and for a moment, the weight of their hidden feelings melted into the warmth of the night.

jisung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he shoved another spoonful of rice into his mouth. he chewed slowly, eyes flickering between the half-empty plate and y/n, her expression unreadable except for the teasing glint in her gaze. his own voice filtered through the small dorm, warm and unfiltered, singing lyrics he once scribbled down at 2 a.m., never expecting them to be heard by anyone but himself.

he swallowed, running his tongue over his bottom lip before muttering, “you do this on purpose.”

y/n tilted her head, feigning confusion as she picked at her food. “do what?”

“this.” he gestured vaguely toward the speaker, his voice quieter now, almost sheepish. “make me listen to myself.”

she shrugged, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. “your music is good.”

jisung let out a small, breathy laugh, but there was something uncertain in the way his fingers tapped against the bowl. “you don’t have to lie to make me feel better, you know.”

y/n blinked, chopsticks pausing midair. “i’m not lying.”

“you say that.” he glanced at her, then away, focusing on a loose thread on his pajama pants. “but you’re my best friend. you’d tell me it’s good even if it wasn’t.”

she frowned, setting her chopsticks down with a soft clink against the ceramic. “sung..”

he didn’t respond, just stuffed another bite into his mouth, chewing like he was trying to make himself busy. y/n sighed, shifting so she could look at him properly. the glow of the fairy lights cast gentle shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet vulnerability in his eyes—the kind he tried so hard to hide.

“look,” she started, voice softer now. “i don’t put your songs in our playlists just because you’re my best friend. i put them there because they belong there.”

jisung stilled, fingers tightening around his spoon.

“you write music that makes people feel something. i know because i feel it. i always have.” she toyed with the hem of her top. “and maybe it’s because i’ve seen you go through every stage of it. the late nights, the self-doubt, the way you talk about music like it’s the only thing that makes sense in your life sometimes.”

he swallowed thickly, staring at his plate like it held answers.

“i don’t just like your music, jisung. i believe in it. i believe in you.”

silence settled between them, thick and heavy, but not uncomfortable. jisung’s throat bobbed as he licked his lips, finally daring to meet her gaze.

something unreadable flickered in his eyes, something fragile and hesitant and real.

“…you always say things like that.” his voice was quiet, uncertain. “and i never know what to do with it.”

y/n smiled, small and knowing. “you don’t have to do anything. just don’t forget it.”

he stared at her for a moment longer, chest tightening with something he didn’t quite have the courage to name. then, exhaling softly, he looked away, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“i won’t.”

they ate comfortably, stealing bites from each other's plates despite having the exact same food. it was normal, the way their chopsticks clinked against each other in midair, the way jisung would groan dramatically after every bite, acting as if he’d just tasted the best thing in the world.

"marry me," he said, mouth full.

y/n gave him a look. "chew first."

he swallowed, grinning. "okay, now will you marry me?"

"no."

jisung clutched his chest. "you are cruel, woman."

"you are an idiot, man."

"a lovable idiot," he corrected, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

she rolled her eyes but didn't deny it.

a beat of silence passed between them, the kind that wasn't awkward but rather filled with something unspoken. jisung glanced at her between bites, again, watching the way the light from the tv flickered against her skin.

she looked… soft. comfortable. the same as always, but maybe not quite.

"so," y/n spoke suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "how was your day?"

jisung blinked, needing a second to process the question. they spent most of their time together, but during classes, they went their separate ways. it was rare for them to actually talk about what happened when they weren't in the same place.

"uh," he started, stabbing his rice absentmindedly. "it was fine. boring. had a music composition lecture, but hyunjin fell asleep and snored loud enough for the whole class to hear."

y/n laughed. "no way."

"swear to god. professor park just stared at him for a solid minute before moving on."

"did no one wake him up?"

"i tried, but he swatted me away like a fly."

she shook her head, still laughing. "what else?"

jisung hesitated for a moment before answering, "i worked on a song between classes."

her expression softened. "the one you told me about?"

"yeah." he looked away, suddenly a little shy. "i, uh, actually finished the demo."

"jisung!" she smacked his arm lightly. "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"i dunno," he muttered, playing with his chopsticks. "didn’t seem important."

"of course it’s important," she said firmly. "can i hear it?"

he met her eyes, something flickering behind his own, before he looked down again. "maybe later."

she didn't push, just nodded. "okay. your turn to ask."

he raised a brow. "ask what?"

"about my day, genius."

"oh. right." he leaned back, lazily twirling his chopsticks. "so, how was your day, my dear best friend whom i love and adore?"

she snorted. "it was fine. boring, mostly. but i had this duo project in business class."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, taking another bite. "who’d you get stuck with?"

"a guy named sunwoo."

jisung froze mid-chew, his spoon hovering just inches from his lips. his brows furrowed for the briefest second before he blinked and forced himself to keep chewing, though suddenly, the fried rice didn’t taste as good anymore.

“i see..” he said after swallowing, voice casual. too casual. “never heard you mention him before.”

y/n shrugged, taking another bite. “yeah, we never really talked until today. he’s nice, though. smart, too. i was kinda worried i’d get stuck doing all the work, but he actually pulled his weight.”

jisung scoffed lightly, poking at his food. “that’s the bare minimum.”

she snorted. “true.”

silence stretched for a beat, the playlist shuffling to another song. jisung tapped his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl, trying to ignore the weird feeling curling in his stomach. it wasn’t a big deal. just a project partner. nothing to think about.

except—

“he was pretty talkative, too,” y/n continued, oblivious to the way jisung’s grip on his spoon tightened. “like, at first, it was just about the project, but then he started asking me random stuff. like, my favorite color, what i do in my free time, my favorite coffee order—”

jisung let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. “your coffee order? what, is he planning on getting you one next time?”

she blinked, considering. “i dunno, maybe. that’d be nice.”

jisung nearly choked on air. he coughed into his fist, shaking his head. “pfft. wow. sounds like he’s… really interested in your business skills.”

y/n laughed at that, nudging his leg with her foot. “oh, shut up. he was just being friendly.”

yeah, okay. sure.

he forced a grin, shoveling another bite of rice into his mouth like it would somehow get rid of the weird, nagging feeling inside him. “so, what else did he say?” he asked, tone still light, still playful. still pretending he didn’t care.

y/n hummed, thinking. “oh, he told me i have a really nice smile.”

jisung almost dropped his chopsticks.

“oh! and that i have pretty hands,” she added, wiggling her fingers in front of his face. “which is funny, ‘cause i don’t really get the whole hand thing, but—”

“he said what?” jisung cut in, voice cracking slightly.

she blinked up at him, confused. “...that i have pretty hands?”

jisung squinted at her like she was missing something obvious. “who compliments someone’s hands?”

“i don’t know! i mean, i guess they’re kinda nice…” she examined her own fingers, flexing them under the fairy lights. “they do a lot for me, you know? writing, playing, cooking—”

“okay, but still,” jisung interjected, trying not to sound too whiny. “that’s like—textbook flirting.”

y/n snorted. “no, it’s not.”

“yes, it is!” jisung threw his hands up. “first, he asks about your coffee order—classic move, by the way—then he calls your smile nice? and now your hands?” he pointed a dramatic chopstick at her. “that’s next-level, y/n. that’s, like, hand-holding agenda.”

she gave him a flat look. “i think you’re overreacting. personally i'd love making friends like that.” she laughed.

“no, you’re underreacting!” he groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him. “i can’t believe this. my best friend is so oblivious.”

y/n just giggled, poking his knee. “oh, come on, ji. he was just being nice. and it’s not like i’m interested in him or anything.”

jisung perked up at that, a little too quickly. “you’re not?”

she shook her head, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth. “nope.”

something unspoken settled in the air.

jisung let out a quiet breath, something inside him easing—but he still had an annoyed little pout on his lips. “still. he was flirting. you just don’t see it ‘cause you’re you.”

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” he huffed, crossing his arms, “that you’re too cute for your own good, and guys like him are gonna keep trying to hit on you while you remain completely, utterly unaware.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard.

jisung realized what he said half a second too late. his ears turned pink.

“…anyway!” he cleared his throat, suddenly stuffing his mouth with rice. “this is good fried rice. really, really good.”

y/n just watched him, something unreadable in her gaze. a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

“dork,” she muttered under her breath.

and if jisung, in his flustered state, caught the way she was staring at him now—soft, fond, admiring—he didn’t say a word.

"sunwoo. what kind of dumb name is that?"

she laughed, shaking her head.

soon, the food disappeared slowly between them, the plates scraping softly as y/n absentmindedly pushed the last bits of rice around with her chopsticks. jisung, on the other hand, had long since finished and was now leaning back on his palms, his head tilted toward the ceiling, looking entirely too satisfied. he stretched with a deep sigh, his tee riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin before settling back down.

"i’m convinced you were a chef in a past life," he said, breaking the silence, his voice laced with a kind of sleepy contentment.

y/n smirked, still focused on her plate. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

"it is a compliment," he assured her, turning his head to face her. his cheek was slightly squished against his shoulder, making him look more like a sleepy puppy than a grown man. "i’m genuinely scared of what would happen to me if you weren’t around. i’d probably live off ramen and instant rice."

"you already do that when i’m not around. and still make it taste bad."

"exactly," he said, as if she had just proven his point. "my body is, like, seventy percent sodium at this point."

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "that explains a lot, honestly."

jisung gasped dramatically. "are you saying i look like someone who eats too much sodium?"

"i’m saying your diet is concerning," she teased, finally setting her chopsticks down and leaning back as well. the food had settled warmly in her stomach, and the atmosphere felt hazy in the best way—soft, familiar, comfortable.

jisung groaned, letting his head fall back. "this is why i need you in my life. you balance out all my self-destructive tendencies."

y/n snorted, stretching out her legs. "i’m your best friend, not your dietitian."

"best friend and dietitian," he corrected lazily.

she hummed, letting the conversation drift into a natural lull. the tv played quietly in the background, an old sitcom neither of them was paying attention to, and their playlist continued to shuffle through songs they had both heard a thousand times before. outside, the city was alive, but in their small little bubble of a dorm, it felt like time had slowed down just for them.

jisung shifted, sitting up properly, and y/n could feel him staring before she even turned to look at him. "what?" she asked, raising a brow.

he hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before finally saying, "i want you to be in my song."

the words were simple, casual even, but they made something in y/n’s chest tighten. she blinked. "what?"

"my demo," jisung clarified, his voice softer now, more careful. "i want you to sing in it."

yn let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "jisung, you know i don’t do that."

"why not?" he tilted his head, brows furrowing slightly. "you’re literally so good. like, so good."

she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "it’s just a hobby for me, you know that."

"okay, but why just a hobby?" his voice had that familiar edge of insistence, the same one he used when he really, really wanted something. "you could do so much more with it."

she shrugged, eyes flickering to the tv even though she wasn’t really watching. "it’s not the same for me as it is for you," she said honestly. "music is your thing, jisung. you breathe this stuff. it’s not like that for me."

"but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it," he argued, leaning in slightly. "i love your voice, y/n. you know that."

she swallowed, feeling warmth crawl up her neck. he had told her that before—countless times, actually—but something about the way he said it now felt different, heavier. "it’s just not something i see myself doing seriously," she admitted, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.

jisung was quiet for a moment, his eyes studying her face carefully. then, with a small, teasing smile, he said, "okay. but what if it’s just for me?"

she looked at him, confused. "what do you mean?"

"i mean," he started, tapping his fingers against his knee absentmindedly, "forget about, like, doing music professionally or whatever. i just want you on this song. not because i think you should be an artist or anything—just because it’s us. i dunno. i feel like it’d sound better if you were in it."

y/n bit her lip, uncertain. she liked singing, she always had, but she never really thought about it beyond the occasional harmonizing with jisung when he played guitar, or the times she mindlessly hummed while cooking. it was never something she considered putting out there for other people to hear.

jisung, however, was looking at her with those big, expectant eyes, his wide smile softened at the edges. "just think about it," he said, nudging her knee with his. "no pressure. but i think it’d be cool. i mean, imagine—our voices together in a song? legendary."

yn laughed, shaking her head. "you’re ridiculous."

"i’m right," he corrected.

she sighed, resting her chin on her palm. "i don’t know, ji."

he pouted, but there was no real disappointment in his face—just patience, quiet and steady. "i’ll send you the demo," he said after a beat. "just listen to it. see if you like it."

she nodded slowly. "fine. i’ll listen."

jisung grinned, victorious. "that’s all i ask."

another silence stretched between them, this one softer, almost charged in a way y/n couldn’t quite explain. the tv droned on in the background, but neither of them was paying attention.

jisung shifted again, stretching his legs out next to hers, their knees knocking slightly. he exhaled, tilting his head back against the couch. "i like nights like this," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself.

yn turned to look at him, watching the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones under the dim light. "like what?"

"just…chill." he cracked one eye open, looking at her. "you. me. food. music. no stress."

she smiled softly. "yeah. me too."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, closing his eyes again. "we should do this more often."

y/n didn’t respond right away, letting the words settle between them. she thought about how much time they already spent together, how their days were filled with each other in some way or another.

and yet, something about the way he said it—like he wanted more, like he wasn’t just talking about casual hangouts but something deeper—made her stomach flutter in a way she didn’t entirely understand.

she swallowed, nudging his foot lightly with hers. "we already do this all the time, idiot."

jisung smiled, eyes still closed. "yeah. but i mean more."

y/n’s heart did something weird in her chest, but before she could dwell on it, jisung sat up suddenly, stretching his arms above his head. "anyway. we should clean around before the angry yunah gets back and starts lecturing us about leaving dishes out."

the moment was gone, dissipating like smoke, leaving yn slightly dazed in its wake.

she nodded, shaking off the strange warmth in her chest, pushing herself up as well.

"right. let’s clean up."

and just like that, the night continued, soft and slow, something unspoken lingering between them—unnoticed, or maybe just ignored.

. . .

the dishes had been washed, the leftovers tucked away, and the night stretched lazily ahead of them, the warm haze of comfort lingering in the air. the tv was still on, playing something neither of them was paying attention to, but y/n could feel the way the atmosphere had shifted—thicker, heavier, filled with something unsaid.

jisung sat on the floor again, back resting against the couch, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against his knee. now, his sleeves were pushed up to reveal his forearms, and his hair was messier now, some strands sticking out in different directions. he looked soft like this—less like the flirty, chaotic mess he usually was and more like the boy she had always known, the one who could say a million things with just a glance.

y/n sat across from him, legs crossed, arms draped over her knees as she studied him. she hesitated for a moment before saying, “play it for me.”

jisung blinked, caught off guard. “huh?”

“the song,” she clarified, shifting slightly. “i wanna hear it.”

he stared at her for a second before scoffing. “you never wanna hear my songs before they’re done.”

“um, wrong, you always reject to play them for me before they're done.” she pointed, trying to sound casual. “i feel like listening everytime. and tonight.”

“and my guitar is right here, so..” she laughed.

something flickered across jisung’s face—surprise, maybe, or something softer—but he didn’t question it. instead, he reached for her guitar, a brown one, which had burgundy, floral borders over its peaks and edges. it had been sitting next to the couch all night, like it had been waiting for the right moment.

he adjusted it on his lap, fingers finding the familiar curves of the wood, the smoothness of the strings beneath his touch. the way he handled just.. guitars had always fascinated her—not just with skill, but with love, like it was an extension of himself, a second voice that spoke when words weren’t enough.

y/n watched, her chin resting on her palm as she took in the tiny details she had seen a hundred times before but never really noticed—the way his brows furrowed in focus, the way his lips parted slightly as if he were already singing in his head, the way the warm light from the tv cast soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his bottom lip.

he cleared his throat. “okay, but don’t judge, ‘cause it’s still rough.”

she rolled her eyes. “i never judge.”

he gave her a look, but it was softened by a small smile before he looked down at his guitar again. his fingers moved, the first chords filling the room—gentle, familiar, warm.

and then, he sang.

his voice was low at first, careful, like he was still unsure if he wanted to let her hear it. but as the melody flowed, he eased into it, his tone settling into that effortless, raspy sweetness that always made something deep in y/n’s chest ache.

she watched, completely entranced, as his eyes fluttered shut, lost in the song. the way his throat moved as he sang, the subtle shifts in his expression, the slight crease in his brow when he hit a note just right—it was all so undeniably han jisung, and it was beautiful.

she had heard him sing countless times before, but something about this was different. maybe because it was just the two of them, the world outside forgotten. or maybe because she was finally allowing herself to see him, really see him, in a way she hadn’t before.

his voice filled the room, smooth and raw all at once, laced with emotion that made her chest feel tight. and the lyrics—god, the lyrics.

it was soft, bittersweet, almost like a confession hidden within the melody. he sang about late nights and lingering glances, about feelings that hovered on the edge of something more, about someone who felt like home.

and y/n couldn’t help but wonder—who was it about?

her breath caught slightly as she watched him, taking in the way his lashes cast the faintest shadows on his cheeks, the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, the way his lips curled slightly around certain words, like he meant them.

she felt something warm spread through her chest, something unfamiliar yet oddly comforting, like stepping into sunlight after days of rain.

when he finally strummed the last chord, the room settled into silence, save for the distant hum of the city outside.

jisung let out a breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. “so… what do you think?”

y/n was still staring. she realized it a second too late and quickly looked away, blinking. “it’s…” her voice felt stuck in her throat, so she cleared it, trying again. “it’s beautiful, ji.”

he smiled, looking down as if trying to hide how much her words affected him. “yeah?”

“yeah,” she said softly.

another silence settled between them, this one different from the ones before. it wasn’t awkward—it was thick, weighted with something neither of them dared to name.

jisung shifted slightly, leaning her guitar against the couch. his fingers tapped against his knee again, a nervous habit. “i meant what i said earlier.”

y/n tilted her head. “about what?”

“about you being in the song,” he said, his voice quieter now. “your voice would fit perfectly. you have this way of making things sound… real. i dunno how to explain it, but i think it’d be better if you were part of it.”

“i know you don’t take singing seriously, and you did say you'd listen to the actual demo.. oh which i know means a no, almost,” he cut in before she could refuse, “but just this once. just for this song.”

y/n exhaled, her fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve. “why does it matter so much to you?”

jisung opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he was debating how honest he wanted to be.

finally, he shrugged. “because it’s us.”

her heart skipped.

“i mean, not us us,” he added quickly, looking away. “just… our voices. together. i think it’d be nice.”

y/n swallowed. “i don’t know if i’d be any good.”

“you would,” he said, no hesitation. “and i’d be with you the whole time. we’d do it together.”

together.

the word settled deep in her chest, warm and heavy.

she looked at him again, at the hopeful glint in his eyes, at the way he was watching her like she was something more than just his best friend.

and maybe, for the first time, she let herself wonder—what if she was?

she exhaled slowly, giving him a small, hesitant smile. “okay.”

jisung blinked. “okay?”

“i’ll do it,” she said, and his entire face lit up in that way it always did when he was really happy, the kind of smile that made her stomach flip in ways she didn’t fully understand.

“you won’t regret it,” he promised, excitement buzzing in his voice.

she wasn’t sure if that was true.

because something told her that once she sang with him, once their voices blended together in a song meant for something deeper—

there would be no going back.

and that terrified her more than anything.

. . .

sprawled out on jisung’s bed, surrounded by the soft hum of the laptop fan and the distant city sounds filtering through the window, y/n felt weightless. not in the way that meant floating away, but in the way that meant she was exactly where she was meant to be.

the air smelled faintly of fabric softener, of jisung’s vanilla-and-woodsy shampoo, of warmth. the blankets beneath them were slightly rumpled, evidence of a thousand previous sleepovers, tangled limbs, and late-night conversations that bled into early mornings. the glow from the laptop screen cast shifting patterns onto the walls, moving in time with the video they were watching.

it was their friend group’s latest dance cover, the kind they always hyped up in their group chat but never actually watched until they were together.

“look at hyunjin’s face,” jisung snickered, pointing at the screen as hyunjin executed a particularly dramatic spin, his expression intense. “bro thinks he’s in a movie.”

y/n burst into laughter, hiding her face in her hands. “no, because he so does that on purpose. you just know he was practicing in front of a mirror.”

“i bet he stared at himself for hours,” jisung agreed, shaking his head. “such a drama king.”

they continued watching, throwing in their own commentary as felix’s fluid movements took over the screen, followed by minho’s signature sharpness, yunah’s grace, and minseo’s precise footwork. their friends were insane, and as much as they teased, the admiration was real.

“minho-hyung’s on another level, though,” yn murmured, her head tilted slightly. “look at the way he controls his movements.”

jisung hummed in agreement. “yeah. he’s scary good.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, only the sound of the music playing through the laptop speakers filling the air. the bed dipped slightly where jisung had shifted, moving to lean on his elbow. yn could feel the shift in weight, the slight press of his arm against hers, the warmth of his body radiating closer than before.

she turned her head slightly—just a fraction—to look at him.

and that was when it happened.

something… shifted.

it was subtle, but it was undeniable. like a string pulled taut between them, an unspoken question hovering in the air.

jisung’s eyes were still on the screen, but his fingers had stopped absentmindedly tapping against the blanket. his jaw was relaxed, but his lips were slightly parted, like he had just thought of something he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say out loud.

the glow from the laptop flickered across his face, highlighting the curve of his cheek, the slope of his nose, the way his lashes cast delicate shadows against his skin. his hair, slightly messy from the way he had been lying down, fell softly over his forehead.

and then, as if he could feel her looking, his gaze flickered to hers.

it wasn’t immediate. it wasn’t rushed.

it was slow.

deliberate.

his eyes met hers, and for the first time in a long time, neither of them looked away.

the music in the background faded into something distant, something unimportant.

the flickering light, the sound of their breathing, the way the air seemed to press down on them—it all blended into something almost dreamlike.

jisung’s gaze dipped, just for a second, to her lips.

and y/n’s breath caught.

it wasn’t new, being this close. it wasn’t new, lying next to each other, watching something, talking about everything and nothing.

but this?

this was new.

this was different.

she could feel it in the way the space between them seemed to shrink, in the way her pulse thrummed in her ears, in the way jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly.

his hand twitched—just barely—against the blanket.

and then, before she could even fully process it, he moved.

slow. hesitant. but sure.

his fingers brushed against hers, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for an accident. but neither of them moved away.

yn exhaled shakily, her heart a wild drum in her chest.

and then, suddenly—

their lips met.

soft at first. just a press—a quiet, unsure thing that barely lasted a second.

but then she leaned in.

and he did too.

and it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. it was something more.

jisung’s lips were warm, careful, but there was a hunger beneath it, something restrained, something that had been waiting far too long to be acknowledged. his fingers found her wrist, featherlight at first before gripping just slightly, grounding himself.

her hands curled into the fabric of his tee, and he let out a quiet exhale against her lips, like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

the laptop screen continued playing, casting shifting lights across their skin. the blanket beneath them was soft, but nothing—nothing—felt softer than this. than him.

he pulled away first, just enough to breathe, just enough to look at her.

his eyes searched hers, as if trying to understand what this meant.

as if asking, did we just cross the line?

but the thing was—

maybe there had never been a line in the first place.

maybe they had been here all along, just waiting for the right moment to realize it.

their breaths tangled in the space between them, warm and unsteady, still trembling with something unspoken. the moment felt like it stretched infinitely—long enough for y/n to take in the way jisung’s eyes flickered, dark pools of hesitation and something deeper, something unreadable.

his fingers, still curled loosely around her wrist, twitched, but he didn’t pull away.

the glow from the laptop continued to flicker, painting soft golds and muted blues across his face, across the fabric of his tee, across the slightly uneven threads of the blanket beneath them.

she felt warm.

not just from the shared heat between them, but from something in her chest, something that felt like a slow burn, like a realization creeping up on her.

jisung exhaled, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but then he stopped.

she blinked at him, suddenly aware of the way her heart was still hammering. loudly. so loudly she swore he could hear it.

“…we just,” she said, as if confirming it to herself.

“kissed.”

jisung let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. yeah, we did.”

silence. not awkward, but charged.

y/n wet her lips, suddenly hyper-aware of the lingering sensation of his against hers. soft. he was soft.

then, jisung groaned, burying his face into the pillow. “oh my god. did i just ruin us?”

she blinked, before laughing softly. “you’re literally so dramatic.”

“i am not,” he mumbled into the fabric, voice muffled.

“you are. like, so dramatic. like—oscar-worthy dramatic.”

jisung lifted his head just enough to glare at her, though the way his nose scrunched up made it less intimidating. “okay, miss i-just-kissed-my-best-friend-and-now-i’m-still-here-for-some-reason—why are you not freaking out?”

y/n tilted her head. “do you want me to freak out?”

“no?” his lips quirked. “maybe?” he groaned again, flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. “i just—wow, okay, so we really did just kiss. that happened.”

she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow, her fingers playing with the loose threads of the blanket. “do you regret it?”

jisung turned his head to look at her, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. he just looked.

his gaze trailed over the shape of her nose, the way her cheek was still slightly flushed, the way her hair had fallen over her shoulder, a few strands resting against her collarbone.

then, he whispered, “no.”

her breath hitched.

jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “do you?”

a beat of silence.

“…no.”

another stretch of quiet, but this time, it was softer. like a shared secret, like something that no longer needed to be questioned.

then, jisung shifted, reaching up lazily, fingers brushing against the ends of her hair. “okay. so. now what?”

she huffed a small laugh, flopping back onto the pillows beside him. “i have no idea.”

“that makes two of us.”

they both stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the sound of the laptop’s fan whirring quietly in the background.

then—

jisung turned his head toward her again, watching the way her lips pursed slightly in thought, the way her fingers absentmindedly traced shapes onto the blanket.

slowly, carefully, he reached out, resting a hand against her arm. “can we—just. stay like this? for a bit?”

she turned toward him, eyes softening. then, instead of answering, she simply curled closer, letting herself nestle into his side, the fabric of his tee brushing against her cheek.

jisung let out a slow breath, his arm naturally slipping around her, his fingers resting against the dip of her waist.

she was warm.

he could feel her heartbeat, steady against his ribs, in sync with his own.

the scent of her shampoo filled his senses—something sweet, something vaguely floral, something hers.

the sound of their breathing intertwined with the faint music still playing from the laptop, a mix of their favorite songs.

jisung sighed, letting his cheek rest against the crown of her head. “you’re kinda dangerous, you know?”

yn hummed sleepily. “oh? why’s that?”

“because i don’t think i’ll ever want to sleep without you now.”

she smiled against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. “good thing i’m not going anywhere, then.”

and for the first time that night, jisung felt like maybe—just maybe—things had fallen into place exactly the way they were always meant to.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[guzmawife]

🍓: he had no job when i met him but now he works at a high school as an errand boy / security (his children attend said school). hes the guy they call in when a real teacher needs to use the bathroom so he can watch the class. or to retrieve some papers from the printer. go get me that thing boy.

🍒: probably just chilling at home with snacks and movies and fast food. or chillen at the beach. 🏝️

🍎: tapu cocoa.. we all know dis.. hot sweet drinks…

🍉: hes not religious other than believing that a higher power exists. hi arceus..

🍑: totally more comfortable giving gifts. hes used to taking care of others so it’s pretty natural for him to be giving. he has no issue receiving but its not rlly a priority since he didnt come from much so hes used to not rlly asking for much.

🍊: i make him peel it. he knows my paws and claws have to stay clean… he’s comfortable with getting dirty and i am not!

🥭: no i domt think so. his dad was a prick and said shit like. Youre not a woman so you dont need those. fuckkkk that guy.

🍍: probably him being mentally manipulated and abused! 😿 killing all the people that taught him he wasn’t anything and made him feel like he had to act out in order to prove himself to others. hhhggffg. he deserves to be loved.

🍌: he likes to be in the dark. das it. no specific reason why.

🍋: he would probably change his hothead nature bc he doesn’t like how quickly he gets upset and makes bad decisions. and his hairline.

🍋‍🟩: he tells people if you squish bugs more will keep showing up. as a joke. heehe. sorry im gonna squish them still im a pussy.. thats probably why they keep showing up though. i have an actual curse. maybe he’s right man…

🍈: he thinks fate is bogus and if you want something to happen you have to make it happen.

🍏: hes bisexual and questioning demisexuality, he learned of his bisexuality through being in denial of liking the same sex and being like. This is ruining my tough guy personality. This can’t be. but then it kept happening and he was like man fuck this whatever. what the hell sure. he became normal. he’s still figuring out the demisexuality, to put it simply he just doesnt want to engage in sexual acts with anyone unless he has a genuine connection to them. it also just feels better for him. sorry for airing out your business Anywayyyyyy. Anyway.

🍐: he’s a nail biter its kinda gross sorry man. his nails are short always so i make him do short nail tasks since my nails are usually pretty long. i think he bounces his legs sometimes too. he knows i hate that shit thou so he tries not to. usually i just leave so he can shake all he wants. then hes like what wait no….

🥝: he would totally let me do his makeup. we’re both pretty lazy when it comes to makeup so we don’t so anything complex. i just do mascara and corner highlights and SOMETIMES lipstick and that’s it. #autistic i cant stand having too much shit ok my face. this isn’t even about me brah. he does simple makeup too since he’s just not super experienced. he just tries things sometimes but he’s not a professional. he just wants to look cool.

🫒: he’s a big hugger he squeezes too tight but it feels good though…. (´ ω `♡) he likes to be hugged too! yey!

🫐: definitely more of an artist he actually keeps a sketchbook. right brained yeah.

🍇: if we never met i think he might still be getting himself into some trouble tbh. he’s pretty stubborn.

🥥: he draws he plays games. he works out. he cooks. i think he would want to get into gardening but his location doesn’t allow for it since it’s always fucking raining.

🍅: i think he would get me testosterone or something that i can’t possibly get safely right now. or like. my own living space. or some rare pokemon card / plush that costs more than an organ online. sigh. or probably 1 billion dollars. muhehw.

🌶️: he drinks ginger ale. ginger ale the ultra cure.

🫚: hes not picky. he cant eat beans bc hes allergic to them. but i dont think hes picky since he has to make sure his kids eat first. so he eats whatevers left from them. leftover amalgamation.

🥕: he didnt like them but he ate them anyway bc his parents were mean :(

🧅: he cries when hes angry like super fuming. and when hes thinking about his past. hes just mad at himself for what happened and how he handled things. Basically. getting manipulated and taken advantage of makes him upset and he cries. he doesnt cry at movies unless he relates to them.

🌽: does bugs counts as animal. He likes dogs. and isopods. and other sea creatures.

🥦: pet peeves are getting called ‘boy’ or ‘kid’. i used to call him boy all the time just by habit and he would Not like that. “I’m not a boy. I’m a man. stop callin me dat…” okaaayyy whatevar. he doesnt have an issue with me calling him dude tho. despite being his lover. which is a little funny. um what else. people not knocking before entering. leaving empty cartons and stuff in the fridge or cabinet. ppl telling him he looks tired. or people calling him old. not that he has an issue with old people (😽) but its like. How did you even reach that conclusion.

🥒: hes afraid of ultra beasts a little.. specifically uh whats its name. nihilego. that bird that i hate. middle finger emoji. hes like. a little more hesitant with UBs than regular mons. he’s also got a fear of getting lost.

🥬: beige flags auumm i hate his ugly fucking sunglasses. and when he says. ya boy (pinches the space between my brows). peeing with the door open. he does that thing where u can feel him looking at you waiting to turn around during the movie so he can kiss you. theres probably more. im very good at complaining.

🫛: he loves to think of new pet names for me to see how i will react. he’d be like. “goodnight honeypie” and id be like “oh…. yeah… 😽” he also likes them too but most of the time i just call him musham or guzma bc i like saying his name. then he’s like. Why dont you call me anything else…. (sad puppy eyes). he likes when i call him mumu or honey. i calll him princess sometimes but its rare. princess is like his top pet name for me. meeooww. sometimes i call him Boss. thats For when. Im teasing Him. That one Makes his Ears turn Red. For special Occasions. meow.

🫑: he’s had a number of near death experiences so he’s pretty afraid of death. he has no lofty life goals. he just wants his family safe. wants to travel too and have good genuine relationships.

🥑: not super niche but cosmetics and nail art. he also likes cooking and insects and drawing. just things he grew to like from being around his family. or trying to distract himself from his own issues.

🍠: he likes to go to the beach and sit listening to the waves (same). he also likes to paint his or others nails when he’s bored. “gimme yer hands i wanna try sumn”. yknow.

🍆: favorite scent is meeeeeee… i kid i kid. probably like. Ugh. baked goods. Sugar smell. Rain smell 👎🏾 i hate rain smell but he likes it. i don’t think he has any specific least favorite smells other than the usual like peepee and caca yknow.

🧄: allergic to beans

🥔: he makes japanese curry a lot. easy to make in large portions for his 75million children. i like rice so he usually makes rice dishes for me. i don’t cook very often but when i do its cultural foods since he doesn’t know those recipes. he likes those. yom. he wants to learn baking but just hasn’t had the chance or motivation.

🍄‍🟫: i think he would wanna be a mewtwo or something. super strong and cool nonchalant. if we’re talking irl mytho creatures, cerberus. that guy cool as shit. #swagger.

this took me three whole days to answer. enjoyable experience rlly made me think. sorry for any typos i used swipe typing for parts of this 😿.

@sylvie-wants-your-dogs hi : )

the ULTIMATE f/o infodumping ask game!

(this is gonna be a long one...)

🍓 - disregarding the career your f/o currently has, what other career would they consider going into, if given the chance?

🍒 - if your f/o and you spend a day doing anything, anything at all, what would they do and why?

🍎 - what's your f/o's favorite drink? any drink, alcoholic or non alcoholic!

🍉 - is your f/o religious? what's their opinion on religion or spirituality?

🍑 - is your f/o more comfortable giving or receiving gifts? why? do they have any preferences on gifts they like receiving?

🍊 - if you asked your f/o to peel an orange for you, what would they do?

🥭 - did your f/o have stuffed animals growing up? do they still have stuffed animals? do they have a favorite?

🍍 - if you could change any one thing about your f/os backstory/character, what would you change? why?

🍌 - does your f/o have a vendetta against The Big Light™? what kind of lighting do they prefer?

🍋 - if your f/o could change one thing about themselves, what would they change and why?

🍋‍🟩 - is your f/o superstitious? is there any habits they follow or quirks they have to follow said superstitions? like not opening umbrellas indoors to avoid back luck?

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

🍏 - if you have any queer headcanons for your f/o, how did they realize they were queer?

🍐 - does your f/o have any nervous ticks or idle quirks they do? like mindlessly tapping on a desk or fiddling with their hair when they're stressed?

🥝 - would your f/o ever let you do their make-up? what does their make-up process look like? is it simple? complex?

🫒 - what kind of hugger is your f/o? do they give good hugs? do they like hugs? do they like receiving hugs?

🫐 - is your f/o more of a writer or an artist? would you say your f/o is more left or right brained?

🍇 - if you and your f/o never met, what do you think your f/o would be doing right now?

🥥 - what hobbies does your f/o have? is there any hobby they would like to get into that they haven't tried out yet? what is it?

🍅 - if your f/o could buy you any gift in the world, whether it exists or not, what would they buy you? or, if they could make you something, what would it be?

🌶️ - does your f/o have any remedies they follow when they get sick? like taking a shot of whiskey to get rid of a fever?

🫚 - is your f/o a picky eater? is there any foods they will not under any circumstances, gun to their head, eat?

🥕 - when your f/o was little, did they dislike vegetables? do they still dislike them?

🧅 - what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

🌽 - does your f/o have a favorite animal? what is it? are they scared of any animals?

🥦 - does your f/o have any pet peeves? things that just really really get on their nerves? what are they and why?

🥒 - what's your f/o afraid of? do they have any phobias? anything minor they're scared of?

🥬 - what are some beige flags your f/o has? so, not bad, but not nessecarily good either. just. "oh. you do This."

🫛 - how does your f/o feel about pet names or nicknames? do they like them? hate them? what are their favorites and least favorites to be called and to use?

🫑 - how does your f/o feel about death? are they afraid of it? is there anything specific they'd like to do before they die?

🥑 - is there any niche topics your f/o is interested in? what are they and why do they like them?

🍠 - what are a few of your f/os favorite pastimes or things that they do when they're bored?

🍆 - does your f/o have a favorite scent? why is it their favorite? do they have a least favorite scent?

🧄 - does your f/o have any allergies? food or otherwise?

🥔 - does your f/o have any food dishes they make often? is there any foods you make for your f/o that they enjoy?

🍄‍🟫 - if your f/o could be any mythological species, what would they be? if your f/o is already a mythological species, would they ever want to be human?

I recommend practicing reblog karma ! people love infodumping about their f/os :) I also recommend sending more than one emoji at a time,,, there are Many here...!!!

[alaia777]

IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO SPECIFY IF I WANTED FLUFF OR ANGST😓😓 I want fluff😋

I requested rin (bllk) for "you really have no clue how to talk to women, huh?" OR "we should just run away."

i hope you like it! :’)

you’ve been dating rin for almost two years now, but you’ve known him for much longer—ever since kindergarten, when you told him football was stupid, and he immediately shot back that you were stupid. one “fight” later, your teacher forced you to spend recess together for a week, and somehow, you’ve been stuck with each other ever since.

so by now, it’s routine—annoying him, getting on his nerves, and watching him act like your presence is a burden when you both know he wouldn’t have it any other way.

you were the one who made the first move, mostly because you had a slight suspicion he liked you. you’d had feelings for him for a while, and the more you noticed the little things, the more convinced you became.

and when you finally told him, he had the straightest face ever—completely unreadable. except for his red ears. and the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed.

…yeah. you were right.

the only thing he told you after that was a simple “same,” and the rest is history.

it might not look like it to anyone else, but to you, rin is the sweetest guy. sure, he has a hard time verbalizing his feelings, but you know he cares. it’s in the small things—like when he picks up your favorite beverage from the coffee shop, paired with whatever pastry obsession you’re into that week. or when he sets aside time every week to watch rom-coms with you, even if there’s a football match on tv.

and then, there are the little gifts. he never calls them sentimental, but you know better. every time he comes back from a city he was playing in, there’s always something small he picked up for you—sometimes a keychain from a place you both visited together, or a notebook from a city you’d talked about visiting but never had the chance to. each one of them has a connection to a memory between the two of you, something only the two of you would understand, and that’s what makes them so special.

but verbalizing it? he’s just not the best at it. rin’s pretty cutthroat with everyone, and even though he used to be like that with you when you were just friends, now that you’re more than that, he doesn’t want to risk it. he keeps his words to himself, always cautious.

so, when you’re getting ready for your date with him, it catches you off guard when he says:

“that is a dress.”

“yes. it is,” you reply, still not quite understanding his reaction.

“you’re wearing it.”

“yes, i am.”

you’ve worn dresses around him before, so his reaction is a bit confusing. “rin, what’s going on?”

“nothing,” he says quickly, avoiding eye contact, though you can tell he’s trying to say more.

“it fits you,” he adds, almost reluctantly, before quickly looking away, clearly not used to expressing compliments.

when you finally understood what was going on, you couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out. “you really have no clue how to talk to women, huh?” you said, trying to stifle your giggles, but the more you tried, the more it looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“that movie we were watching the other day, the girl said women like to be complimented by their boyfriends. i thought..” he trailed off, his gaze darting away. “i thought you might want that too.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “oh, so now you’re using rom-coms for relationship advice, huh?”

he scowled, clearly irritated, but there was no mistaking the faint blush creeping up his neck. “shut up. don’t make this a big deal.”

you laughed again, unable to resist. “too late, rinnie. you’ve already made it a thing.”

rin let out a long sigh, clearly trying to hide his discomfort. “can we just go already?” he grumbled, glancing at you quickly before looking away.

you raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. “what’s the matter, rin? never complimented someone before?”

he scowled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “i don’t do that.”

“right, you’re too cool for that.” you teased, arms crossed.

“i’m not, just, it’s stupid, okay?” rin muttered, still avoiding eye contact.

“so what was that about rom-coms then?” you pressed, enjoying his flustered state.

“i don’t need your sarcasm right now,” he shot back, clearly embarrassed but not willing to admit it.

you chuckled, stepping closer to him. “fine, let’s just go, rinnie. but you know, maybe you should try complimenting me more often. you’re not so bad at it.”

rin grumbled under his breath but you could see the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, just enough to know he wasn’t really as annoyed as he was letting on.

“let’s go,” he repeated, his tone still blunt, but you could tell he was less annoyed than before.

you grinned, following him out, because even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, you knew he cared.

[lovelytsunoda]

club tropicana | lando norris

summary: on an all inclusive holiday in ibiza, y/n finds herself falling head over feet for the charming british barman

pairing: bartender!lando norris x female! reader

warnings: reader has some crappy former friends, please do not get into a car with a barman at a shitty three star spanish resort (lowkey inspired by my 'benidorm' rewatch), cameos from carlos and fernando, im so sorry that this took me literally a month and a half to write.

club tropicana drinks are free / fun and sunshine, its enough for everyone all that's missing is the sea / but don't you worry, you can suntan

the sun beat down on the resort-goers, reflecting off the chlorinated water in the swimming pool. sunbeds were arranged around the large body of water. swimmers in the pool sat on mosaic stools underwater to order drinks at the swim up bar.

she was supposed to be on this trip with her friends. well, some friends they were. ending a friendship over text with about six weeks left in her second-to-last university semester before graduation.

and so she had gone alone, to the most affordable three-and-a-half star resort in ibiza. truth be told, she hadn't wanted to go to the party island in the first place. if she didn't leave the resort, it wouldn't even matter.

bookmarking her page, she sat her copy of dark sacred night down on the sunbed and strode towards the pool. the pool was crowded, but the swim-up seats at the bar were, unfortunately, the easiest way to get a drink at the resort.

she took a deep breath and ducked below the water, swimming over to where the bar was. she liked being underwater. all her senses were dulled, and the noise of the real world seemed to fade away.

"one vodka orange, please." her voice was quieter than intended when she sat down at the bar, and for a moment she worried that the barman couldn't hear her.

"coming right up, love." the barman was british, with a mop of curly hair and a pale yellow resort shirt that had the name 'lando' embroidered over the heart. he winked at her as he got the vodka down from a shelf behind the bar and began to mix her drink.

lando wasn't oblivious to the understated beauty of the girl in front of him, water running down her soft skin and dipping into the curve between her breasts. her wide, gentle eyes. the way the orange fabric of her swimsuit hugged her curves.

she was wearing a one-piece, a rarity in ibiza.

"so," he asks, setting the drink down in front of her. "what brings you to spain"?

he always asks, even if he doesn't care. but one thing he's noticed since he started working behind the bar is that everybody has something to say, and sometimes they just need a stranger to say it too.

kind of like the characters in that old billy joel song, the one about the piano and the man at the bar making love to his tonic and gin.

and she doesn't know what it is about lando that put her so at ease, but suddenly shes talking and talking and can't make it stop and now he knows all about the three years of friendships she forged at university and how all she had to show for it were two refunded ryanair flights and a text message saying that they 'needed space' and 'our friendship will not be continuing at this time' with no explanation of what she had done to push them away in the first place.

funny that.

"does that sound ridiculous?" she cringed. "it sounds really silly now that i've said it out loud."

"people come to ibiza for dumber reasons. i worked in benidorm for two years, and you should see the train wrecks that come through there." lando laughed, leaning against the tiled bar. "you're better off without them, if you ask me. they sound very catty."

"catty is saying it nicely." she laughed along, sipping her vodka orange.

talking with lando was easy. more so, it seemed like he genuinely cared, and that he wanted to listen. it had been a long time since she had felt like anyone wanted to listen to her. even still, the voices in her head were getting harsher and harsher.

"what are your plans for later?" lando asked, head cocked to the side. "i've got this friend, he owns a party boat company."

"lando, i'm not getting on a spanish party boat with a man i hardly know." she cringed, stomach flip-flopping. had she gotten the total wrong idea about him? he seemed like the kind of guy who would know just about everybody in ibiza, and probably half of benidorm as well. "does anything that i've just told you make you think that i would literally at all be interested?

lando raised his eyebrows. "you didn't let me finish, love. he also does nighttime stargazing tours. that far out on the water, there's nothing in the way of you, the sky and the stars. i thought that was much more up your alley. i could take you tonight if you wanted to."

she felt a pit in her stomach and cursed herself for jumping to conclusions. for a moment, the barman had looked genuinely hurt, right now, though, he looked at her with puppy-dog eyes, and expression that inevitably made her cave.

after all, she was on vacation.

and here she was, waiting in the lobby of the hotel in a low cut black halter dress. she'd done her makeup, which was a rarity. she was tempted to turn her location tracker on, but wondered who she would share it with. she could always tell the woman working reception to call her at a set time, and then the police if she didn't answer, she supposed.

lando pulled up outside in a little fiat 500, looking dapper in a collared shirt. his hair was visibly caked in gel, and he smelled like expensive cologne.

far more expensive than a barman should have been able to afford.

"are you ready for the night of your life, milady?"

she fought the blush, looking at his extended arm. no doubt he wanted her to link her arm through his. and they said that romance was dead.

"take it away, bartender."

the fiat should have felt cramped, but instead felt cozy. spanish synthpop music played on the radio, something uplifting and calming as lando drove through the cobbled ibiza streets. she looked out the window in wonder, eyes wide as the city nightlife passed them by.

all too soon, they had arrived at the dock, and lando was speaking rapid-fire spanish to another man who was leaning through the window. they laughed, and the spaniard clapped lando on the shoulder before taking a small handful of bills from him.

the barman stepped out of the fiat, crossing around the car to open her door and help her out of the little hatchback car.

"your carriage awaits." he grinned, cocking his head in the direction of the boat. "come on, i got us the best seats."

on the boat, an older dj was playing a wham! record, 'club tropicana' blaring out over the sound system.

"when does the bar open?" she asked quietly. "i'm craving something."

"in about twenty minutes, as soon as we leave port." lando replied, resting his hands on her waist. "in the meantime, can i tempt you to a dance?"

ah, why the hell not?

"hey, fernando," lando started before rattling off something in spanish. the dj nodded once before changing the record on his turntable.

spanish synthpop.

lando took her hands in his, pulling her closer for a spirited dance, his hips swinging back and forth with abandon. she fought the urge to burst out laughing as she let him pull her close. the sun was dipping low over the horizon, and down at the dock the deckhands were getting ready to leave port.

but with lando's hands burning into her skin as he lead her in something that might have vaguely resembled the tango, she had forgotten all about the fact that she was on a stargazing cruise, not a latin dance boat.

she only realized the song was over when the audience that had gathered around her and lando had started to clap. red faced and blushing, she dropped lando's hands and shyly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"i think im ready for that drink now."

lando beamed, resting his hand in the small of her back. "of course, sweetheart. vodka orange?"

"you know me so well."

lando effortlessly slid behind the bar, hands flying as he grabbed glasses and bottles and shakers. she leaned against the bar, chin in her hand as she watched him work, muscles rippling in his forearms underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt.

he winked at her as he passed her the glass. by now, the sun had fully dipped below the horizon, and if one craned their neck up, they would be able to see a glimmering landscape of stars, uninterrupted by the muted lights on the boat.

lando came to stand behind her, his hands resting on her waist, protectively holding her body to his.

"so, be honest, this just made your trip a whole lot better, didn't it?"

despite herself, she laughed, relaxing into his touch. "yeah, it really did. thank you, lando."

"wait," he started, hand moving to her chin. "my job isn't quite done yet."

"what are you-"

she didn't get a chance to finish as the barman touched his lips to hers. they were soft. way softer than any barman's lips should be, well taken care of like the rest of the brit in front of her. she fell, no, tumbled into the kiss, feeling herself falling faster with every second that they spent lip-locked.

and she knew that there was no way that barman wasn't coming home with her. who needs return flights anyways? maybe she could just stay in ibiza and snog him for the rest of her her working life.

for now, though, she'd just settle with getting him into her hotel room.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Call Them Clingy| Hyungline Pt3

Hyungline x Gn!Reader

(i was supposed to release this yesterday but things came up im sor sorry its late but here you go!!! idk how i feel about this :/)

Bangchan

The night air was cool as you walked into the dimly lit bar, Felix by your side, his expression a mixture of concern and forced cheer. You had told Chan that you had plans- and wouldn’t lie to him- and that meant actually going through with your impulsive decision to make plans.

So, here you were, out with Felix, pretending that the weight in your chest wasn’t getting heavier with every minute that passed.

Felix had noticed, of course. He always did. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, voice soft. "Maybe you can-"

You forced a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, of course. I need a distraction.”

But the more you drank, the more you realized it wasn’t a distraction at all. Every sip burned, and every moment you weren’t thinking about Chan consciously was just a moment your subconscious filled with the memory of his face. His voice. The way he had shut you out completely after you made such a careless comment.

Meanwhile, across town, Chan sat in the corner of him an Jeongin’s apartment, drink in hand, gaze distant. Jisung had been invited over as well to have a few drinks and relax, since Chan also felt uneasy with the excuse he had made. Both boys sensed that something was off, but neither of them asked, just quietly sipping their drinks.

Until finally they couldn't take it anymore.

“You good, hyung?” Jisung finally asked, watching Chan down another shot.

Chan huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing his face. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Jeongin raised a brow. “You sure about that?”

Chan didn’t answer. He just stared at the ice in his glass, swirling it absentmindedly. The alcohol was dulling the ache in his chest, but only slightly. He had been pushing himself to stop thinking about you, to accept that you needed space, but it wasn’t working.

Not when his mind kept replaying the way you had looked at him before you left. The way your voice had sounded too quiet when you said goodnight.

The way it had sounded angry when you called him clingy.

Did he really do too much? What if-

Then his phone vibrated.

Felix.

Chan frowned, answering quickly. “Lix?”

“Hyung,” Felix said, exhaling sharply. “I need you to come get Y/N.”

Chan sat up immediately. “Who? You're with Y/N?" 

Was Y/N originally planning to hang out with Lix?...I thought they had just made an excuse-

Felix hesitated, his voice tight. “Y/Ns…not doing great- won't let me help-" Chris struggled to hear over the noise of the bar.  "-keeps pushing me away, saying they don’t want me to be ‘clingy'- out of -mind and refuses to- help them- get home.”

Chan felt the words like a slap to the face. His chest constricted, at the thought of you being drunk out of your mind.

“I’ll be there in ten,” he said, already grabbing his jacket. “Send me the location.” He stood up abruptly and wobbled slightly.

Jisung and Jeongin exchanged a look before quickly standing as well. “We’re coming with you,” Jeongin said firmly. "I'll drive, you drank more than either of us."

(For legal purposes disclaimer: y'all do NOT drink and drive. it's dangerous and can have serious repercussions. always try your best to have a sober friend around as well, in case of emergency)

Jeongin snatched Chris's key's and they all hopped into the car.

You tended to worry him when you were drunk, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

The drive felt agonizingly long. The alcohol still buzzed faintly in Chan’s system, but the moment he heard Felix’s voice and heard that you were in trouble - or causing trouble maybe -he sobered up fast. His heart pounded against his ribs as worry gnawed at his insides.

The second they stepped into the bar, his eyes scanned the room until he found you. And his breath caught in his throat.

You were sitting at a table, arms crossed tightly over your chest, brows furrowed as Felix spoke to you softly as he patted your back. But it was clear you weren’t listening. Your eyes were glassy, and your lips were pursed like you were trying not to cry as you shook your head, then slamming it onto the table like an angry toddler.

Felix noticed them first, exhaling in relief. “Thank God,” he muttered.

Chan wasted no time. He was at your side in an instant, crouching down so he was at eye level. “Y/N.”

Your head snapped toward him, and for a moment, your expression flickered with something so raw, so vulnerable, that it made his chest ache. But then your lips wobbled, and you hiccuped, looking away. “Go away.”

Chan’s jaw tightened. “Not happening, baby. Come on, let’s get you home.”

You shook your head stubbornly. “No.”

"You're being a pain, Y/N-ie. To Felix of all people do you want to upset him?"

Chan glanced at Felix, who gave him a knowing look. Felix wasn’t upset- he understood. It wasn’t that you didn’t want help. You just didn’t want it from anyone who wasn’t Chan.

You still stubbornly shook your head so Chan looked at Jisung who nodded.

Jisung sighed, mocking anger and crossing his arms. “Y/N you're being difficult, we can do it the easy way or the hard way. Or do you want to make us upset and disappointed?”

The moment Jisung spoke, you immediately nodded, causing a chuckle from the boys. "Okay, I'll listen."

The boys had long since known Jisung was your first bias, and that was often used for leverage in situations like these, when you're brain was too fogged to do much other that realize you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you admired. 

Carefully, Chan reached out, his fingers grazing your wrist. “Y/N,” he murmured, softer now. “Ready now?”

At that, your whole body seemed to deflate. Your lips trembled, and your eyes welled up with tears. “I was mean to you,” you whispered.

Chan exhaled softly, still caressing your wrist. “I know.”

“I didn’t mean it.” You whimpered.

“I know,” he said again, this time even softer.

Your face crumpled. “I’m sorry.”

Chan sighed, his chest tightening unbearably. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

This time, you didn’t fight him. You let him help you up, let him guide you out of the bar, his arm steady around your waist. The moment you were outside, the cool air hit you, and your steps wobbled. Chan adjusted his grip, holding you closer.

“I miss you,” you mumbled into his shoulder. Wiping your snot on him.

Chan swallowed hard. “I’m right here.” He noticed your were wiping your nose on him and he rolled his eyes lovingly. "You need a tissue?"

“You were mad,” you said, your voice tiny.

“I was hurt,” he corrected gently. “But I wasn’t mad.” He helped you get into the back seat of the car. "Sometimes, we just have to learn to handle our emotions a bit better. After some thought, I know we both could have reacted in better ways. I should have told you how I felt, and you should have told me how you felt. I know you were upset and didn't mean it, but it doesn't take away any of the hurt Y/N. I 'cling' to you because I'm deeply in love with you.

Your fingers clutched at his sleeve. “Are you leaving me?” You said looking up at him with wide eyes.

Chan paused buckling you in. His eyes widened as he turned to look at your face fully. “What?”

“You’re not gonna leave me, right?” you whispered, your voice thick with tears. “I feel so bad, Chris. I don’t want you to go.”

Chan exhaled slowly. He wanted to be frustrated with you- wanted to tell you how much you had hurt him, how dismissing his care had stung. But looking at you now, your face scrunched up in guilt, your body trembling slightly from the alcohol and the weight of your emotions…he just couldn’t.

Instead, he finished buckling you in and slid next to you and pulled you into him, his head resting atop your head. “I’m not leaving you,” he murmured. “You’re stuck with me, okay?”

You sniffled against his chest. “Promise?”

His grip tightened. “Promise.”

Jisung and Jeongin exchanged a glance but said nothing. Felix let out a quiet sigh of relief as he climbed in the back with you two.

"You're not clingy." You said quietly on the ride back. "I was upset but you're not clingy."

Chan hmmed in acknowledgement, petting your hair.

You scooted closer to him, burying yourself into him even more.

"Can I be clingy though?" You muttered sleepily, eyes fluttering to a close.

"That's all I want." He murmured quietly, kissing the top of your head.

"I love you." 

"I love you."

As Chan held you close, feeling the tension in your body slowly begin to ease, he knew one thing for certain: no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere. And so he squeezed you a bit tighter, clung to you.

And as you drifted off into sleep you realized- 

How could you ever think you didn't want this?

——————————————————————————

Minho

The moment you got home, you regretted running away. The sinking feeling in your stomach wouldn’t let up, and your mind kept replaying the scene over and over. The way Minho looked at you- shocked, maybe even a little hurt- made you feel even worse.

You curled up on your bed, hugging your knees to your chest, guilt weighing you down like a stone. He deserved to be heard. You had made a mess of things, and now, if you wanted to fix it, you had to be the one to take the first step.

The next morning, you gathered your courage and went back to his apartment. Your heart pounded as you stood in front of his door, staring at the keypad, remembering how easily you had let yourself in the night before. This time, you knocked.

A moment later, the door opened, revealing a very tired-looking Minho. His hair was disheveled, his eyes slightly puffy as if he hadn’t slept much. When he saw you, his lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across his face before he stepped aside wordlessly to let you in.

You hesitated for a moment but stepped inside, greeted by the familiar scent of his apartment. The cats lounged around lazily, their tails flicking as they acknowledged your presence. The silence between you and Minho stretched, thick with unspoken words.

You turned to face him, gathering every ounce of courage you had. “I’m sorry.”

Minho’s brows furrowed slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “For what exactly?”

“For everything.” You exhaled shakily. “For calling you clingy when you were just being sweet, for lashing out at you because I was feeling insecure. And for last night- for not even giving you a chance to explain.”

Minho sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really hurt me, Y/N.”

“I know.” Your voice cracked. “And I hate that I did. I-” You swallowed. “I saw you with her and I just- jumped to the worst conclusion....”

He studied you for a moment, arms crossed, his gaze softer now but still guarded. "So...that is what you thought." He said quietly.

You blinked and nodded. "I...know you wouldn't though. I was emotional and I...don't..." You swallowed, trying to blink back tears.

Minho sighed and crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe to the living room. “You should’ve asked instead of assuming.”

“I should have.” You nodded. “Who...was she?” You asked quietly, feeling your face burn from embarrassment of still being wary.

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “My old neighbor. I asked her to watch the cats.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He let out a small sigh, then motioned for you to sit on the couch. You followed hesitantly, your heart still racing.

“I was planning something for us,” he admitted. “A trip. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I needed someone to take care of the cats while we were gone.”

Your breath hitched. “A trip?”

Minho nodded, his expression unreadable, but his jaw twitching. “Yeah. Because I love you, and I wanted to spend time with you. But then you called me clingy and started avoiding me, and I thought…maybe you didn’t want that.”

Guilt surged through you so strongly it made your chest ache. “Minho…”

He met your gaze, something raw in his eyes. “I know that I was the first one to...shut down or...seek space; but you were the one pulling away. I was just trying to hold on. And forget what you said...”

Tears pricked at your eyes. “I didn't mean that Minho. I know nothing can take those words back, but I truly truly didn't mean it.” you whispered.

"I don't..." Minho sighed. "I don't act...this way with others. I don't really like all the mushy stuff but with you...it's different. Its like...I have to do all that stuff because I love you so much that it physically pains me not to show you just how much you mean..."

"Min..."

"So when you said that it made me think maybe you didn't want my love. That maybe...it was a burden to you."

"It's not!" You shout, making Minho jump slightly. "It's not at all. If anything I'm the burden for making things so difficult."

"You'll never be a burden to me Y/N. You just need to tell me when things are getting too hard so I can adjust my love language during those times. So we can avoid things like this, hm?" He lifted your face to look at him, slowly rubbing his thumb over your cheek. You nodded.

"You can be such a pain when your irritated you know, that?" He teased, his eyes narrowing.

"I was scared that I showed you I don’t deserve how much you love me. And that...you...”

Minho sighed before leaning forward, cupping your cheek gently, as he crashed his lips into your to shut you up.

“You can be scared, but don’t shut me out. Let me be scared with you if you are. And for the record you have nothing to be scared for. I'm clingy remember? What makes you think I'll let you go?"

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb. “I love you, Y/N. Even when you’re being a pain.”

A small, watery laugh left your lips. “I love you too."

He smirked slightly. “So, you ready for the trip?”

You blinked. “You still want to go?”

Minho scoffed. “Of course. I planned everything. It’d be a waste not to.”

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." He said wiggling his eyebrows. "A very special surprise."

You pouted. "But I wanna know-"

He shushed you again with his lips, pushing you back onto the couch, and Dori's napping spot much to cat's dismay.

His hand entwined with yours, for a split second he played with your ring finger.

"You'll know soon enough, jagiya." He mumbled against your lips, his hand falling from yours to wrap around you waste as he lay on top of you. "But I missed you so let me just be with you in this moment."

He pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and familiar, as he cuddled into you, and told you about everything that had happened recently; and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

——————————————————————————

Changbin

You barely had time to process before you were rushing outside.

He was turned away from you completely. Your stomach dropped, and your hands instinctively reached out for him. "Changbin, wait!"

But he didn’t even try to continue walk away. Instead, his shoulders shook. His breath came out ragged, and when he turned back to you, his eyes were glossy, brimmed with unshed tears.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Bin...?"

You ran up to him and you started apologizing. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to steal your proposal or anything. I just wanted to apologize for snapping and calling you clingy-"

He let out a broken laugh, tears threatening to teeter over the edge, running a hand through his hair before looking at you with an expression so raw, so utterly vulnerable, that it made your chest pound. "You really think I’m upset because of that?"

Your brows furrowed. "Aren’t you? I- I took this from you. I ruined everything. I was so horrible-"

He cut you off with a shake of his head. "No, Y/N. God, no." He took in a shaking breath.

And then the first tear slipped down his cheek. Followed by the next, then the next.

Your heart clenched painfully at the sight, and you stepped closer, unsure if you should reach for him. He was crying. You had made him cry. And the thought of it made your own tears start to well in your eyes.

"Binnie, I-"

"You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice wavered. "I’m not crying because I’m upset. I’m crying because I love you so much that it makes me hurt to think about how you blamed yourself for all of this. That you thought the way to make it up to me was by planning your own proposal."

He let out another unsteady breath, wiping at his face roughly. "I don’t care about the proposal going wrong. I don’t care that you were overwhelmed or that we fought. I don't care enough about any of that to want an apology. I thought I did but being here I don't. I care that you thought for even a second that I would want you to feel this kind of guilt. I care that you thought I wouldn’t love you just as much, even after everything."

The weight of his words crashed into you all at once.

Tears slipped freely down your cheeks now, your throat tightening so much it was hard to breathe. "But I- I hurt you. I said awful things, I-"

"Yes, but seeing this-" He gestured towards your home. "I know you didn't mean it. We all say things when we're upset."

"But I do it so much-" You cried out.

"And I still love you, Y/N," he interrupted softly, stepping forward this time. "I still want to marry you. I still want every version of forever with you, no matter how messy it gets. I didn’t propose tonight because I thought it had to be perfect. I proposed tonight because I was ready. And I still am."

Your lips trembled, a sob catching in your throat as you reached for him, hands shaking when they met his chest. "Bin..."

He exhaled shakily, his hands coming up to cup your face. His thumbs brushed away your tears, his gaze searching yours as if to make sure you understood. "Don’t ever think that a bad night, a bad fight, or a bad moment could ever change the way I feel about you."

Your tears fell harder now, and a broken laugh slipped from your lips. "You’re supposed to be mad at me, and make me grovel and apologize 1000 times; not saying the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard."

He chuckled wetly, pulling you against him, his arms wrapping securely around you. " While I think that would be a sight to see I forgave you the moment everything happened. And I appreciate the apology Y/N-ie, I really do. But I could never stay mad at you. Not when I know how much you love me back."

You buried your face in his chest, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline. "I do. I love you so much, Binnie. And I’m so sorry."

He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. "I know. I know, baby. We can move past now."

For a long moment, you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, breathing in the warmth and comfort that only he could provide. And then, in the softest whisper, he murmured against your hair:

"Marry me, Y/N?"

You pulled back slightly, blinking up at him through tear-soaked lashes. "You...You’re still asking? Even after all of this?"

His smile was small but so full of love it nearly took your breath away. "I wanted to hear you say yes."

A watery laugh bubbled out of you, and you nodded, gripping his shirt tightly. "Yes. Yes, of course, I’ll marry you."

He pulled the ring out of his jacket pocket and placed it on your finger, disregarding the box somewhere on the pavement.

And then his lips were on yours, warm and insistent, tasting of salt and relief and love. So much love.

 It was filled with every emotion under the sun, everything you could ever want and need.

And it made you pull him closer, cling to him a little more.

It wasn’t a perfect proposal.

But it was yours

Which made it absolutely perfect in the end.

——————————————————————————

Hyunjin

Hyunjin practically sprinted from your apartment, his heart hammering against his ribs. The cold air bit at his skin, but the chill was nothing compared to the ice creeping up his spine.

Where could you have gone?

He checked the usual spots first. The small park you liked to sit at when you needed air, the café down the street where you drowned your bad moods in sweet drinks, even the bus stop in case you had the ridiculous idea of running away from your problems altogether.

But you weren’t at any of them.

Panic fully bloomed in his chest. He couldn’t lose you—not like this. His mind was already spinning in worst-case scenarios, every single possibility sharpening his anxiety into something unbearable. He pulled out his phone and called again. Straight to voicemail.

“Come on, Y/N, pick up,” he muttered, frustration and worry bleeding into his voice.

Then, a thought struck him.

He quickly searched up convenience stores near your apartment. 

You tended to like to stress snack, and if you had wandered off, there could be a good chance you wandered into a place filled with snacks.

He tried calling again; even though he was sure you wouldn't answer becuase it seems your phone was off. 

But much to his surprise there was an answer.

"Hello?"

Hyunjin didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded like an older gentleman.

"Who is this? Why do you have Y/N's phone?"

"Oh, I see. Their phone died, so I'm charging it."

The man had given Hyunjin the address of the store and he took off in that direction, his long legs eating up the distance, barely noticing the way his breath came out in sharp puffs. And then, as he rounded the last corner, he saw you.

Sitting by the window, a snack in your hand, your eyes lost in thought.

Relief hit him so hard he nearly staggered. His chest rose and fell as he tried to compose himself, to shake off the raw terror that had gripped him just moments before.

You were okay.

But God, he wasn’t.

The door chimed as he stepped inside. You looked up, startled, and your eyes went wide as they met his.

“Hyunjin-”

Before you could finish, he was in front of you, his hands cupping your face, looking at you all around his warmth enveloping you entirely. His brows were drawn together, his eyes dark and searching.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was?” he said, voice tight. “I came back and you were gone. Your phone was off. I thought-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I thought something happened to you. Why are you even at a store this far from your home?”

Guilt curled deep in your gut. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just- I tried going after you and then my phone died, and I had taken a wrong turn and-”

Hyunjin let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but it was too shaky, too broken. He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“You don’t get to disappear on me like that,” he murmured. “Not after what you said. Not after the way you made me feel.”

Your stomach twisted. “Hyunjin, I-”

“No, let me talk.” His voice was soft, but firm. “You hurt me, Y/N. You made me feel like I was too much, like the way I love you is suffocating.”

Your lips parted, a lump forming in your throat.

“But that’s just how I am,” he continued, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin. “When I care, I care with everything. I don’t know how to be any other way.” His voice cracked. “And for a second, you made me feel like that wasn’t enough. Or maybe…too much.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Hyunjin, I never meant to make you feel like that.”

He searched your face, his own emotions laid bare. “Then why did you say it?”

"I was upset. But after some thought..." You swallowed, forcing yourself to confront the truth. “I think I don't like change. And being cared for this much is new to me. So, I was irritated, and I used it as an excuse to say something I had been thinking. Because I think I'm scared,” you admitted. “Scared that if I let myself lean into it too much, I’d get used to it. That I’d get used to you being there, and then one day maybe you wouldn’t be, so I shouldn't let myself get used to it."

Hyunjin stood there blinking.

“I thought pushing you away would make it hurt less if that ever happened, And after today I realized that I was wrong. And I'm sorry.” you continued, voice shaking. “I'm sorry all I did was hurt you instead of expressing how I felt. Whether about the rough days or anxiety for the future. There are no excuses...”

A heavy silence stretched between you before he finally spoke.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly. “Not unless you tell me to. And even then, I’d probably still find a way to stay and cling to.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat.

"I mean it, Y/N. More than I've meant anything before." He sighed. "I wanted you to grovel and I was going to be all dramatic and everything but...I guess you just make me way too soft don't you?" He kissed your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to cling to you. Even if you tell me not too."

You let out a full laugh now. “You’re persistent.”

“And you’re impossible,” he murmured, brushing a tear from your cheek. “But you’re mine. Right?”

You nodded, fresh guilt and love swelling in your chest. “I am. And I know I already said sorry but I really am. I’m so, so sorry, Hyunjin. For what I said, for making you feel like you weren’t enough. You are. You always have been.”

Hyunjin studied you for a moment before his lips quirked up just slightly. “You’re lucky I’m weak for you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” you promised. “Whatever you want.”

His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Anything?”

You hesitated. “Yes?”

A full grin broke across his face. “Then you owe me unlimited cuddles for a week.”

You let out a relieved laugh, nodding. “Deal.”

And just like that, Hyunjin pulled you into his arms, burying his face into your shoulder, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

Because he didn’t.

——————————————————————————

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

@suckerforv @nyang3racha @ashleylly @darling-imobsessed @changbinismymuscledaddy @artist2181 @minniesverse @monbrigh @20staaa @aeri-skzver @noannah @skysole @chanssmiles @depressedarlling

[hyunjuenthusiast]

Im craving for angst , so girl can you write about Hyun ju x female reader

Basically Hyun ju and female reader have been dating for 1 and half year now, but things didn't went so well after attending squid game, Hyun ju gave young mi more attention , than she did for female reader so she distance herself from Hyun ju and her team, wondering why female reader ditched her. So female reader went to Gi Hun's team instead. And to make things worse not only Hyun ju voted O to continue the game, but Hyun ju lost the love of her life during the Mingle, ANND.. It took Hyun ju 2 to 4 business days to figure out that she hasn't been a good girlfriend ever since they came to squid game and Hyun ju Crashes out so badly.

(Female reader committed su!cide during Mingle, died instead of young mi and the shaman lady predicted female reader's death)

(And YES the guilt is definitely eating Hyun ju alive)

Sorry if this is too long

Take your time for this one

゜・（／。＼）・゜

Okayyyy complex, I like it! Hopefully I do this ask justice 🙏🏻

HER ANGEL

Pairing: Hyun-ju x femreader

Warnings: ANGST, depression, death, suicide, longing, survivors guilt.

Insecure. That was a word Y/n had always been familiar with. Ever since she was little. Her mother would criticize everything she did. If she ate too much, if she didn't eat enough. If her hair was down, if her hair was up. If she smiled, and if she didn't smile. Everything she did up until she was an adult was judged.

When she finally got the taste of freedom, moving out at the ripe age of eighteen, she discovered that the world was an ugly place. Nothing like how she fantasized how it would be. The books were wrong.

For the first few years after moving out, she was alone. Truly alone. She had no one. No friends to call late at night, no fuzzy kitten to cuddle when she had tears running down her face on a rainy day. No significant other who would whisper sweet nothings to her as she fell asleep... No one.

Not until she met her angel. Hyun-ju.

Everything had changed. For the first time in her life, Y/n felt like she deserved to take up space in the world. Hyun-ju made her feel wanted, loved. She erased every insecurity Y/n had. She loved every flaw and imperfection. She kissed her scars and wiped her tears.

Hyun-ju was her soul mate.

Y/n didn't care that her angel was different. She didn't care how people looked at them in public. Hyun-ju was perfect, in every way. Even if her angel couldn't see it for herself.

Hyun-ju told Y/n of her wishes for surgery. She had cried to Y/n about her debt and abandonment. And Y/n was there to comfort her in return, wiping her angels tears away and whispering promises.

So when a nice-looking man asked Y/n to play a game, showing her the money she would win, of course she agreed. For her angel, for Hyun-ju.

Y/n didn't need convincing to call the number on the back on the card. Once she saw Hyun-ju looking at herself in front of the mirror, her eyes filled with loathing, she dialed the number.

It was the least she could do. Hyun-ju had given Y/n her sense of self back. She had given Y/n her smile back. Of course, she would return the favor. Anything for her angel.

Waking up to the blasted music, she looked around to see other people. Waring the ugliest green she had ever seen. Looking down at herself, she saw her jacket was labeled 005.

She gathered around like everyone else. Waiting for an explanation. There were so many pink guards and even more players. They explained that they weren't trying to collect debt or cause any harm.

"Excuse me!" Said a voice. Not just any voice. Her angel's voice. Y/n quickly turned and saw Hyun-ju. Her Hyun-ju standing near a couple of bunks. She didn't catch what her angel said next, only focused on the fact that she was here.

Y/n winced as she saw Hyun-ju getting slapped. That was the day her angel had gone on a walk. She remembers her coming home, acting strange. Hyun-ju had met the salesman before Y/n did.

As all the players walked in single file lines up the colorful steps to get their pictures taken, Y/n looked around for Hyun-ju. Seeing her fixing her hair prettily, she smiles and quickly walks up to her. "Angel!" Y/n gushes.

Instead of greeting Y/n with a smile, Hyun-ju tenses. Asking her what she was doing here. "I know how much you need the money..." Y/n whispers softly, watching as Hyun-ju's eyes soften.

As they all walk into the first game, Hyun-ju holds Y/n's hand. "Don't separate from me, sweet girl. Okay?" Her angel asks softly. Y/n squeezes her hand in return.

"What is that?" Y/n asks, pointing to the giant doll like figure in the distance.

"Green light..."

Y/n quickly runs forward a few steps, then stops.

"Red light!" The doll waits, seeing if anyone would move.

The first to go was 196. Y/n stood, stiff as a board, the sound of people dying behind her. When the doll says green light, no one moves forward, but Hyun-ju reaches over and grips Y/n's hand.

Player 456 explains that they will die anyway if they don't cross the finish line in time, and so, she stays behind Hyun-ju, racing towards the finish line.

Once across, she watches in horror as her angel races back across to help player 456. This is the first and only time that Y/n has ever wanted to yell at Hyun-ju.

The second game is the six legged pentathlon. Her and Hyun-ju look around for more teammates. She notices Hyun-ju's fallen expression when people stare at her, and when they don't want to join because of her.

"Excuse me?" A timid voice says from behind the both of them. Y/n and Hyun-ju turn to see a small girl, obviously nervous. "W-Would you...like to team up with me?" She asks, looking at Hyun-ju first, then to Y/n.

Ever since then, Hyun-ju had been attached at the hip with Young-Mi. It was hard for Y/n not to notice, especially in a place like this. When she wanted comfort and reassurance from her angel, she would see that Hyun-ju was already comforting Young-Mi, that she was already whispering words of encouragement to her instead of Y/n.

But that was just who her angel was. She was kind to everyone, and Y/n had no right to take that away from Young-Mi. Y/n could clearly see how terrified the small girl was, and if Hyun-ju was her safe place, then who was Y/n to take that away from her?

That's was until Y/n heard it. What Hyun-ju was saying to Young-Mi.

"I won't let anything happen to you, sweet girl." Hyun-ju had said. Y/n felt her stomach drop. Sweet girl. That was Y/n's nickname. That was her word of endearment.

She decided to give them space. Joining player 456 and his team.

The third game was mingle.

As they all stood on the platform, Y/n watched as Hyun-ju held Young-Mi's hand, giving her soft smiles. Y/n felt horrible for feeling envious. Would she always be cursed to be this insecure? Would she ever feel content with anything?

"TEN"

The voice said. Everyone scrambled to find their groups and rooms. So far, their team had nine after joining Hyun-ju. Until her angel grabbed the crazy shaman lady.

Running into the green room, Y/n pants, not even bothering to look at her angel holding onto another woman. Hyun-ju gives her a confused look, wondering why she had left their group.

"Your heavy sorrow will swallow you whole." The crazy lady says, making everyone look at her. Y/n shrinks into herself as she realizes that she's talking to her. "You won't last much longer, I'm afraid. Pity. You have the purest birthstone."

"SIX" the voice says.

Gi-hun and Young-il had split from the group, leaving Y/n no other choice but to join Hyun-ju.

They all run to a yellow door, freezing in their tracks as they see a group is already in there. Hyun-ju races to find a different one.

She found one.

Y/n starts to run towards it with the other people in her group, but when she sees player 333 running towards it too, she slows down.

Looking over at her angel, she sees her clutching Young-Mi's hand.

The pregnant girl holds her belly.

The mother and sun cling to each other.

Where did Y/n fit into that? She didn't.

She has seen Jun-hee talking to player 333 on several occasions...

She needed him, more than any of them needed Y/n.

She made her decision then.

As player 333 races into the room, she finally hears Hyun-ju calling for her. Her angel was trying to get 333 out of the way.

Y/n walks to the door, looking into the small slit. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing? Go find a room! Go!" Hyun-ju shouts. Y/n only shakes her head softly.

"Ita okay angel." She whispers, putting her hands onto the door. Hyun-ju is starting to panic. The timer still had thirteen seconds on it. "I know there's no place for me here. Not now." Y/n says, tearing up.

Hyun-ju continues to shout, begging Y/n to go find a room. "You made me feel so inside the lines, Hyun-ju. Like I wasn't a lost shade outside of the pretty design. I could actually fit inside the art." Y/n says with a sad smile.

"I never thanked you for that." She says. "Thank you for showing me. For guiding me to see who I was for the first time."

Nine seconds on the timer.

"I know you'll be happy. You'll make it out of here and live the life you've always dreamed of...live the life you've always deserved. A life, with Young-Mi." Y/n's lip quivers.

Four seconds on the timer.

Hyun-ju starts shaking the door, sobbing and yelling. "I love you, my angel." She whispers tearfully, letting out a pained breath as she feels the bullet peirce her back.

"NO! Y/N!"

Player 333 had left that room beaten to a bloody pulp.

At first, Young-Mi's hand doesn't feel out of place instead of her own, not for the next two games.

Until Y/n's words repeat instead of her head.

A life...with Young-Mi.

Once she realizes it, she drops Young-Mi's hand as if it had burned her. She had been holding the wrong woman. Comforting the wrong woman. Calling her...

She had called the wrong woman sweet girl.

Hyun-ju looks over to Young-Mi, a tear falling. She had made the love of her life question her love.

She had been at fault for her sweet girl's death. Not 333. Not even the guards. Hyun-ju was the reason.

"Don't worry. You'll be seeing her again, " the shaman says. "A lot sooner than you think."

For the next game... was human chess.

I'm scared.... what do we think?

[suguslve]

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧— DO I LOOK LIKE HER? part ii

synopsis: in which you, the new human transfer in Devildom realize bit by bit that you are only seen as a replacement for Lilith.

part i. part iii.

♰ pairings. obey me brothers x fem! Reader

♰ genre. angst

♰ word count. 2.2k

♰ a/n. haha...hey...i know its been so long since i posted part 1 but you can't blame me! i've been swamped with school and lost the motivation to write, so this is my apology pls accept it </3 enjoy reading and don't forget to lmk your thoughts! (p.s. im so sorry that lucifer's part was so short ehe)

Over time, you began to notice the small things, the subtle gestures that hinted at something you couldn’t quite grasp. The brothers were kind to you, undeniably so. They treated you with warmth and affection, and you had grown close to each of them, bonding in ways that made you feel at home in the Devildom. But there was something... slightly off about it all, something you couldn’t shake.

You had formed a close relationship with Mammon, finding it easier to bond and connect with him in comparison to his other brothers. It wasn't just that he was loud or impulsive, or that he often dragged you into crazy schemes—there was something in his eyes when he looked at you, something softer, more genuine. With him, you felt less like a replacement and more like a person—your person, but boy were you mistaken.

One random evening, Mammon had barged into your room, grinning like he always did, but in his hand was a bouquet of flowers. They were lilies. The kind with soft white petals and delicate purple hues that seemed to shimmer in the light. 

“Here ya go. I just! found them on my way back home…” He handed them over to you, a soft blush painting his features. “They’re special….I guess.” 

You gave him a soft smile before standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Mammon. They're lovely."

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little awkward. “Well, uh... Lilith used to love these, thought you’d like ‘em too.”

At that, your smile faltered, and your gaze lingered on the flowers. Lilith, huh? You question if the gift was really meant for you or if they were meant for her. You shook your head slightly and met his eyes again, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Thanks. But, um... I’m really tired, so if you don’t mind, could you leave?"

He looked taken aback but nodded quickly. "Oh, yeah, of course. Rest well, Y/N." You closed the door softly and immediately walked to the trash bin, you grabbed the flowers and tossed them inside. You hated lilies.

But the lilies were just the beginning.

Lucifer followed soon after.

He knocked on your bedroom door one evening, holding a small, ornate music box, intricate carvings polished to perfection. “This is for you.” he stated before opening it, a beautiful melody filling not only the room but the whole house as well. You stood there, in awe, yet something about it made your chest tighten.

“This belonged to Lilith,” he said, his voice soft. “She was enamored with it, bringing it everywhere we went and playing with it. I thought you might like it as much as she did.”

“Thank you.” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand shook before taking the box. Lucifer nodded, his gaze lingering on the music box for a moment longer. He then bid you goodnight, walking back towards his room, you noticed the faintest trace of a sigh escape him, as though the act of handing over that music box had taken something from him. As soon as he left, you placed it on a high shelf, far out of sight.

Leviathan’s room was dim—the only source of light coming from his monitor. It was another one of your late night anime watching sessions and you had both stayed up all night binge-watching a newly released anime. You sat beside him, wrapped in a blanket he had tossed your way earlier, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but you were just too invested to stop.

“Okay, okay, this is finally the last episode.” Levi said, barely containing his excitement. “This is gonna be so good.” You chuckled at his enthusiasm, adjusting your position on the couch. “Alright then, hit play already!”

As the opening credits rolled, Levi shot you a glance before grinning. “You know… the main character kinda reminds me of you.” You raised a brow. “Oh? How so?”

Levi gestured toward the screen. “Just look at them! Their whole vibe—the way they act, the way they talk, even some of their features!—it’s just so you.” Curious, you turned your attention fully to the character in question. They had a quiet strength to them, a soft but determined presence. And yet, as the scene unfolded, your stomach twisted.

Because the character didn’t remind you of yourself. They reminded you of her.

The resemblance to Lilith was undeniable—the same gentle eyes, the same way they carried themselves, the way they spoke, even the way they looked all felt eerily familiar. Your heart sank as you realized what Levi was seeing.

He wasn’t seeing you.

You swallowed, forcing a small laugh. “You think so?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, completely unaware of the weight behind his words. “Yeah! It’s uncanny. Maybe that’s why I felt comfortable around you so quickly—it’s like I already knew you.”

Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. So that was it. Even here, in a world separate from reality, you were still standing in someone else’s shadow.

Next came Satan. 

It was a quiet afternoon, and you had wandered far from the House of Lamentation, seeking peace and quiet. Seated on a bench, you immersed yourself in a random book from the library, enjoying the peace.

A soft ‘meow’ pulled you from your reading. Glancing up, you spotted a small black kitten approaching, its green eyes warm and curious. Setting your book aside, you cooed at the tiny creature, extending a hand to beckon it closer.

You picked it up softly, making contact with its soft fur. The cat looked at you curiously before meowing once more. Your heart softened at it, and you placed it on your lap, petting it slowly. The cat’s eyes became more and more droopy, and soon after it fell asleep.

Smiling, you reached for your D.D.D. to capture the moment—only to pause at the sound of a quiet chuckle behind you.

Turning quickly, you found Satan watching you, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“You’re good with cats.” Satan remarked, stepping closer before seating himself beside you. His voice was smooth, but there was something softer in it than usual—something almost fond.

You relaxed slightly, offering a small smile as you glanced down at the sleeping kitten in your lap. “I think this little one just likes me.” you said, running a gentle hand over its fur.

He watched the kitten with adoration, petting it softly as well. “You’re quite similar to Lilith.” he murmured and you froze at the mention of her name. “Animals were drawn to her, especially cats. She had this… certain gentleness about her.”

Your fingers stilled, the weight of his words settling over you like a familiar shadow. Here it was again. Another moment, another memory that wasn’t really yours. When will it end?

You were out shopping with Asmodeus, hopping from store to store. Your feet ached unbearably, but despite the discomfort, you found yourself enjoying the moment. He was going on and on about the latest fashion trends and gossip, and you smiled as you listened, entertained by his enthusiasm.

His rambling came to an abrupt stop when his eyes landed on a fragrance shop. With a delighted squeal, he grabbed your hand and eagerly pulled you inside.

The shop was filled with soft, ambient lighting and shelves lined with elegant glass bottles, each containing a different scent. The air was thick with floral, citrus, and musky undertones, blending together into something almost intoxicating.

Asmodeus let go of your hand and immediately darted from display to display, picking up bottles and spritzing them onto tester strips. Meanwhile, you wandered through the shop at your own pace, picking up bottles and sampling various scents, searching for a new one that suited you.

You had just found a light, floral fragrance that you liked when Asmodeus turned to you and gasped dramatically. “Oh! That one!” he exclaimed, holding up the sleek glass bottle. His eyes shimmering with excitement as he spritzed some onto his wrist. “You’ve got good taste Y/N! You know, Lilith also loved this scent! She used to wear it all the time—it was practically made for her.”

Your face fell at the mention of her name once more. God, why does everything have to be about her?

“You should buy it!” he insisted. “I just know it’ll smell amazing on you—just like it did on her.”

You hesitated, staring down at the delicate bottle. The weight of it felt heavier than it should have.

“Go on.” he urged, smiling brightly. “It’ll be perfect on you.” Just like how it was perfect for Lilith.

Then it was Beelzebub. 

You were sitting in the living room, scrolling mindlessly on your D.D.D. Your attention was then interrupted when you heard the main entrance open and close. Beelzebub walked towards you, a smile evident on his soft features, he was holding what looked like a basket of pastries, the sweet aroma filling the air.

“Hey Y/N! I was over at this new pastry shop earlier and look what I got!” He said excitedly, you smiled up at him before he picked one out of the bunch and handed it over to you. It was a strawberry flavored bread, your favorite. You took it from him, about to thank him before he beat you to it. 

“That was Lilith’s favorite!” he said, his voice tinged with a rare gentleness. “I thought you’d like to try it.” You stared at the pastry on your hand, your appetite vanishing. 

“Oh…Thanks, Beel.” you murmured, disappointment evident in your voice. He smiled up at you before heading to his room, surely to eat the rest of the pastries, while you sat there, staring at the bread before placing it in the fridge and walking back to your room.

The bread sat untouched on the refrigerator for days until they went bad, and you threw them away.

You sat hunched over your desk, your room dimly lit by the soft glow of your lamp. The assignment in front of you was due tomorrow, but the words on the page blurred together, your exhausted mind struggling to focus.

This had become your routine—staying up late, drowning yourself in schoolwork, anything to keep your thoughts from spiraling. The dark circles under your eyes had deepened over the past few weeks, proof of just how little rest you were getting.

But it wasn’t just the assignments keeping you up. It was them. 

A soft knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could respond, it creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped inside.

Belphegor.

He rubbed his eyes, looking just as sleepy as ever, but there was something different in his expression—something more aware, more concerned. He didn’t say anything at first, just took in the sight of you, the exhaustion weighing heavy on your frame.

“…You’re not sleeping.” His voice was quiet, but certain. It wasn’t a question. You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I’ve got a lot to do.” Belphegor didn’t respond right away. Instead, he walked closer, something bundled in his arms. When he reached your side, he held it out to you. A thick, worn blanket.

You blinked at it, hesitant. “What’s this?” He didn’t meet your eyes as he spoke. “It was Lilith’s.”

Oh.

“She always used it when she couldn’t sleep.” he continued, voice softer now. “Said it made her feel safe.”

Your throat tightened as you stared at the fabric in his hands. Still, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the fabric. It was soft, familiar in a way it shouldn’t have been.

“Thanks.” you murmured, forcing a smile. Belphegor nodded, watching you for a moment longer before turning away. “Get some sleep.” he muttered before slipping out of the room.

You held the blanket close, staring down at it, your chest heavy with something you couldn’t name. You were being given another piece of her.

It wasn’t just the gifts that hurt—it was the way they looked at you. Like they were searching for pieces of her in you, hoping to fill the void she’d left behind. Each gift came with the same unspoken message: You’re not Lilith, but we wish you were.

That same night, as you stared at the collection of gifts scattered around your room, you finally broke. The memory of Lilith lingered like a ghost in the House of Lamentation, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape her shadow. And with every gift, every gesture, it became clearer—you were never truly seen. Not for who you were. Not for who you wanted to be. You were a ghost in someone else’s place, a cruel imitation of the sister they lost. Every kindness they offered wasn’t meant for you, no matter how much you laughed, cried, or screamed, it wouldn’t matter. They never cared for you. They cared for the pieces of her they saw in you.

You were her, in all the ways that counted. And you wondered if they would ever realize—if they would ever mourn you, the way they mourned her. Or if you were never meant to be anything more than Lilith’s shadow.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[mangionebabymama]

im not even saying this as a sort of wishful thinking but I genuinely think lulu is possessive lol

he isn’t materialistic so when he finds something he truly likes, he’s deep in it and doesn’t want to lose it

i think this probably would extend to relationships as well, which is why i think he kept things at arms length (not saying he was never intimate, I’m sure he was)

but he strikes me as the sort of “all in or nothing” guy, set in his conviction. meaning I don’t think he would handle a break up well at all if I’m being honest. i think the thing with lulu is he feels too hard.

and it makes sense when you think about it, growing up, you could tell he spoke his mind (the story of his mother with the table manners etiquette comes and his disapproval every time comes to mind)

but in school, he was molded to a certain standard, a prep school high in discipline, had to keep to this (it’s probably the reason we see him more at ease in his hawaii or even later uni years)

being long term with someone he genuinely had a connection with would be a different territory to what he had been accustomed to, and oh boy with a guy that feels hard, this man would have been overthinking x100. which is where I think the possessiveness would have came out. there’s a vulnerability to him behind all his bravado that I think is so relatable. wanting to be so good, but feeling so much.

ok, im going off on a tangent, sorry about that, I’m sure no one cares about these thoughts haha I’m just rambling!

also side note - that video of him literally looking at KFAs phone for a full 10 seconds, like he’s wondering who else are you representing?? lol ok this part is pure jokes, don’t take it seriously haha

Well I care about these thoughts because you went OFF here 🧑‍🍳💋!!!!!

I’m not even gonna expand much on this because I wholly love everything you said here, especially that he feels too hard and that he’s a lover so he’s gonna love hard

“Who else are you representing” 😭

[eddiediazismyhusband]

I agree with a lot of your rant about Eddie's move to Texas. It is refreshing to see this take. I don't think it is supposed to show Eddie as being a good father. At least I hope not. To me, it is a sign of him hitting rock bottom. Which would make sense if they are indeed paralleling S5. Because he heard Brad talk about regrets and made a knee-jerk decision that on the surface seems noble. But there is a reason why in emergencies you are supposed to put on your mask first before helping your child. He has blinders on his eyes because he again thinks he found a simple solution for very complex problems.

If Chris needed space to come to terms with big feelings, than the separation was a chance for Eddie to heal as well, and mostly to figure out who he is and what he wants outside of being a dad. But he never did. He just fell even deeper into depression and lived at the whims of his kid and his parents. And neither of them was healing.

Moving to El Paso, instead of just going there temporarily to actually talk with Chris and put down some rules about their healing, individually and together, is borderline self-harm. But I don't think he is realizing it because he is basking in the hope of seeing his kid face to face. But it will have to hit him at some point soon that by leaving, he is not only breaking his promise to Chris - that he will be able to come home at any point. He is leaving his only support system and essentially his whole life he built there behind. Of which Buck is a huge part. And when it hits him, it won't be pretty.

If the show doesn't do this justice, some writers definitely will.

Frankly, the only thing worse that Eddie moving back to El Paso being seen as good parenting, is Buck moving with Eddie being seen as romantic.

IM SO SORRY FOR LETTING THIS SIT FOR SO LONG BUT I ONLY JUST NOW HAD THE CHANCE TO SIT DOWN AND WRITE OUT MY THOUGHTS BUT I AM DOING IT NOW

(i’m gonna kinda go down the list of things you mentioned and respond to each thing just for my own sake so i don’t completely derail and go off-focus)

first of all- i half agree half disagree about this being an intentionally bad decision; like i wish i had enough trust ij the writers to think that, but looking at the mindset of a lot of the fandom right now, and how they’ve played off bad behavior/choices as being completely normal/acceptable before keeps me from completely trusting that this is supposed to intentionally be eddie making the wrong choice- i feel like it’s going to be played off as yet another example of “it’s hard, but it’s what you need to do” which is…. not true, but i digress

i think i am in the minority when i say i’m getting tired of the constant “paralleling” of previous seasons… when we keep seeing the same beats and arcs played over and over again, the show just feels stagnant and repetitive, and unfortunately since s7 started that’s all it’s been for me- like how many times does eddie have to hit rock bottom before they finally start actually moving him forward? maybe that’s this plot, maybe it’s not, but i don’t have any hope that it is since every time eddie’s hit rock bottom in the past he’s never actually grown from it.

And the whole listening to Brad thing, who he had literally met like 5 seconds before… i’m not even gonna get started on all that bc i could write an entire 10 page thesis on why i hate brad and why s8 felt like the biggest wast of time because of him.

But anyway…

i agree that 8a should have been the time to show eddie healing- yk, like they said he was going to before they completely scrapped his arc and turned it into a lackluster seven minute catholicism propaganda moment… but instead we had to focus on brad and also focus on further retconning racists (tommy into this “good boyfriend” that we still never saw any evidence of, and gerrard into just a grumpy old guy). The way they are constantly pushing eddie’s storylines to the side and scrapping/rewriting them to be boring, nonexistent, or self-destructive is just getting old, and i am tired of him being the narrative punching bag

it’s literally gotten to the point where s8 has made me really start to dislike eddie bc it’s like… that’s not the character i fell in love with, and it’s not in a “he’s acting ooc bc he’s depressed”

i’m hoping that he does suffer s little bit- both for completely disregarding his son’s feelings on it all, and disregarding the only people who ever truly supported him in his life. like i get wanting to give chris space, but it’s been 3 months- telling him it’s time to come home is not “strong-arming” him; teaching him that it’s okay to just leave when things get hard is a worse parenting tactic than eddie bringing him back to LA even if he doesn’t want to go.

and then the buck of it all- i really hope it is what gets him to actually realize how important buck is (since buck dying apparently wasn’t enough but i digress), but i somehow still seriously doubt that it will amount to anything more than the post-lawsuit “i already forgave you, but just don’t do it again 🤪” thing from s3 which is not only a disservice to the fans, but a disservice to the story and to the characters.

the fact that people expect buck to just be ready and waiting for eddie to just come back and for him to automatically forgive him tells me that a lot of people don’t actually know what it’s like to have their trust broken like that… when someone you care about is so completely unaware of your feelings onna situation after knowing you for 6 years, and that person actively chooses to ignore that there are other options other than just completely tossing the frienship aside- it cuts like a knife.

ik some people say “they can be long distance friends” but very rarely do long distance friendships last and remain as strongly connected as they are… it would be perfectly natural for eddie to move on while he’s back in texas, and if that were to happen, buck has every right to need time and space

now don’t get me wrong, i don’t want another divorce era when the time frame of buddie realistically going canon is quickly closing, but i feel like not having buck be completely hurt and unable to trust eddie is disingenuous to him as a character, and also undermines the real human emotions that go along with being left behind like that

unfortunately- i just don’t think the writers are talented enough to do something as nuanced as that which means we are left w three options:

a) it ends in buck and eddie reuniting and its angst for one day before they’re just back to being best bros like nothing ever happened which is lackluster and disappointing

b) it ends with a long drawn-out angst plot that by the end of it, tim will have changed his mind about buddie canon and it will just be a lackluster best bros thing again

or

c) it ends in automatic buddie canon but completely disregards buck’s abandonment issues, as well as the choices eddie made that explicitly hurt buck, providing the most anticlimactic moment in their relationship trajectory because it doesn’t feel at all earned

unfortunately, i feel like the first two are the most-likely routes just based on how the show has gone before

anyway, sorry for the long response but i never have anyone who ever agrees with me/wanted to have an open conversation about these kind of takes, so it’s refreshing to have someone willing to talk about them! thank you for the ask, friend <3

[enden-k]

I have a really sappy confession to make: I think the biggest reason I connected with your Amygdala story is because it entails a lot of things I myself deal with on a daily basis one way or another (deadly negative energies not included anymore, yay). I think, because my disorder has a strong relevance with paranoia (and by default abnormal over-activity in my own amygdala funnily enough), it just resonates across many various levels that nothing recently managed to ensnared me to such a personal degree—be it Saran and his tentacles, eyes and brimming negative energy, Vika's disconnect from reality and his senses, and his suicidal past. The fear seekers binding to their fears to get tools to deal with the energies...it all just resonates to the core of my being to experience this from such an interesting story telling point. Jokes and memes (and my often unintentional but always present puns) aside, Amygdala became the most precious thing that somehow makes dealing with my own Fears so much easier, especially because i have my own "tools".

All of that squishy emotional nonsense is to say, thank you for feeding us one crumb at a time with something so brilliant. It's bringing a spark to my own passion, allowing me to focus on my own oc stuff again, and it brings a sense of peace with it.

(sorry for this long nothing burger (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i just had a lot of feelings and impulsively decided to share them. i just adore this story to bits and pieces and every new addition brings so much joy, it makes me feel a lot)

no but in all seriousness, getting a message like that is prolly the biggest compliment i ever got to my OCs/amygdala specifically; it helping you to deal with your own fears while also making you focus on your own oc stuff too. im so so happy its able to do that!!! i know i said it a lot but im just so happy my OCs are so well received and LOVED especially since i focused sm on fanart all these past years and never dared to post OC stuff before. now seeing them getting sm love and interest and even helping you like that makes me so unbelievably happy aaaaa

thank you so much for the message and your love for them <3 it means so so much and fuels me!!!!

[fungh0u1]

seriously stupid but i do feel that its true. sorry this is like my version of drawing an anime girl drinking a modelo or something

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i just think if roles were reversed and buck was the one saying those gay ass lines to eddie, eddie wouldve proposed like four seasons ago

[quixtrix]

rayman, eden's feel good american dream story; an analysis

guess who's back with taking ubisoft's silly guys and cutting them open. yknow, if you strip rayman of his personality, of all the behind the scenes we get of him, we get a run of the mill news reporter that is an immigrant, who by face alone serves as a shining ray of hope. he's easily something that by all means, can be classified as a diversity hire. immigrant, nonhuman (which in the world of clh can be considered to be equated with poc irl), and notably the only one in his work environment. don't believe me?

we rarely ever see anyone other than rayman on the show in the form of a coworker. the only time we do see other eden affiliated people, they are both white. "but you can't see red's face!!" there is a reason his dialogue makes you think of more right leaning people with their claims of 'wokeness is destroying everything' under something like april from tmnt being black and not ginger. he's a caricature meant to represent a specific group of people under fascism; those who have successfully consumed the fearmongering and have let it turn from fear of those that they are told are beneath them into hatred for them. there is also the fact that on live tv he throws up a middle finger, refers to an implied group of immigrant people as 'filthy interdimensional alien scum,' and seemingly gains no backlash for it. yes, the other reporter does try to give red a chance to go back on his words, but he sticks to it. and despite all of this, we get no indication that neither red nor the niji 6 had to apologise or received punishment for this. in fact, red is possibly given more chances by eden due to him being weirdly in charge of bullfrog's containment in a way? (i'm not entirely sure WHY he was there, but as he is one of eden's tv personalities, he's at a possibly televised trial of a terrorist.) now if you compare this to rayman, who also acted inappropriately on tv by literally saying fuck, you'd come to realise that rayman was treated so much more harshly. he was IMMEDIATELY replaced by a clone of himself, with no warning nor any indication that eden would do such a thing. it's very likely this was one of, if not the first time that rayman has slipped up like this on live tv. maybe it's a repeat offence considering his personality, but then you could argue that red is a repeat offender of the same shit and then you have to wonder why a soldier like red was not easily replaced but someone who is the literal face and voice of eden was with ease. it's because rayman made himself more than jus a story, he humanised himself by showing a peek of his raw feelings. remember that cute little exposition of the rayman kids show about hybrids? where we see all of these hybrids working as society's grunts and the kids are told to be thankful for hybrids? it's very sweet and gives a good message! now the rayman kids show is a product of eden propaganda, but rayman very much has a hand in it, most likely as a writer. he uses his platform to speak on issues that has happened and affected him. this can be seen in his biopic.

jus sit with this image for a moment. you ever think about why rayman is specifically made as an alien? why he's specifically an immigrant? in real life news reports and speeches, there is a difference in implications when people use immigrants and not aliens. you wanna know why?

as someone apart of an immigrant family myself, i live in a community of other immigrants. majority of them are hispanic, and while i myself am not hispanic, i am very aware of how hispanic immigrants were referred to and treated by politicians under trump's presidency. how couldn't i? even as children in middle school and elementary, we had discussions about what trump was saying because it directly targets my friends and their families. they are people targeted by a man who specifically uses derogatory terms to dehumanise them, to make it easier to justify in the average american mind that the government is doing the right thing by keeping out and protecting america from these so-called 'invading animals.' makes what red was saying earlier feel very on the nose, right? adi shankar, the showrunner for captain laserhawk, is also an immigrant man. immigrated from india, which by the way, did you know has a lot of people immigrating for the purpose of having a better life? that's a common sentiment that can be found in every single immigrant family's story. i've asked my filipino mother why she took an opportunity to live and work in america, and she told me it's because she wanted to give her children a better life than what we would have had in the philippines. hell, i bet if you share a similar background to me, you can ask your own parents the same thing and get the exact same answer, regardless if you came from latin america or africa, or asia. it's because of the concept of the american dream. everyone who has ever engaged with any degree of immigrant discussion has heard of the american dream. it's a concept that seems to be consistently proven via word of mouth, with the biggest examples being celebrities. they will always, without fail, eventually speak about the american dream within their backstories. and typically, they will use their platforms to further empower others within their community. it's why people from specific ethnicities tend to group together, why people make art meant as something akin to a homage to their people. it provides hope to the masses, makes you relate to the person on the screen, and believe that this society is truly a gracious one by providing opportunity. because yeah, it may be bad, but it could be worse. i mean we appreciate you! just look!

dont mind the fact that the majority of opportunities allotted to you is grunt work, the work where you at the base of the pyramid, with the harder jobs and the jobs no one wants to do. dont mind the fact you will be actively dehumanised, forced to work for hours in conditions we wouldn't put anyone else in, but hey. we appreciate you. we thank you. and yknow, you can become more than what you are. yknow, we let someone just like you be more than what you are! nevermind the fact that if they slip up, they'll be met with MUCH harsher criticism in comparison to someone who isn't you! aren't we so gracious? i probably sound a bit like matpat's insane out of context real world examples, but this show is filled with political imagery, so let me be. anyways, let's get back to eden and rayman. rayman, despite being specifically from dimension x as an alien, keeps hybrids in mind when he's doing his work.

people of colour tend to share solidarity with one another due to the fact that surface wise, we share similar struggles. to grossly oversimplify things, we all face discrimination through our appearances and are oppressed by the rules of a society created by our white oppressors. again, hybrids and dimension x immigrants can be equated to irl poc, and despite being different from each other, there is still community. rayman keeps them in mind, hoping to make things better for the overall nonhuman and nonnative (native as in naturally born) population of eden. but, rayman is not what he believes he is. because despite everything he has worked for, despite what he has tried to do, he is still a facilitator of the fascist regime that has an active hand in the perpetual oppression of his own people. one of the core concepts within fascism is us versus them. it's an easy way to instill fear (which is very much needed in fascism to make it easier to lie to the masses) and it's used in multiple layers, beginning with a large group (ex. us versus ussr, capitalism vs communism), then progressively sizing down (ex. saying all eastern europeans are communist, then going smaller and say all those affiliated with eastern europeans are communist) with the goal being to put people against each other and break up community since if you put your minds together, you'll start to realise that the fascist system is bullshit. what i've personally come to find is that in order to hide the fact that there is fascism lurking is that someone that can be considered a 'them,' an other, will be given a seat at the table. it's so they can be used as an excuse, a human shield, when they inevitably slip up and can be paraded to the masses as proof that the other is not as smart or powerful as 'us.' the 'other' within the 'us' is used as something to look down at, while also justifying to oneself that they have a place, that they are not being oppressed. they have an opportunity as much as anyone else! so long as they don't mess up. rayman messes up, and is shunned from 'us.' hes a mistake, impure, clearly not like 'us,' 'us' who had been so gracious to give this 'other' a place. he's cut out and discarded because he has well worn his purpose, and clearly, they can just get another little puppet. they'll dress him up and make him worthy of being one of 'us,' and make sure that this one won't fall to the fault of his little ideas. which is exactly what leads to rayman's transformation of ramon. being forcibly forced out and discarded by eden because he showed his true ideas makes him realise that there was no real place for him within the system. because what good is his work if it leads to what he tried not to create? it's worthless, just as the system it attempts to thrive in is.

tl;dr, rayman is a representation of the american dream, specifically celebrities. he tries to do what he can with his platform, but the fact is that within a fascist system, his impact is not entirely felt in the way he wants it to. that is why he becomes ramon.

anyways if you reached the end of THIS LONG ASS PIECE GOOD LORD thank you!! always open to discuss this and take criticism, my ask box is open in the lil 'who's asking' :^]

[shakingparadigm]

horrendously sick and twisted btw

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol

[magefelixir]

mannn sweeney todd is so sad

its at its core a love story; everybody’s story revolves around love.

benjamin barker was in love with the IDEA of his lucy. and maybe it had something to do with him being gone for 15 years. but when the people he loved; his lucy and johanna weren’t who he remembered them to be, would he even remember them? how did he act when his lucy wasn’t young, soft, and most of all beautiful? when johanna was disguised in sailors clothes he didn’t recognize her. (that’s not a shortcoming on his side though: he hasn’t seen her since she was 1)

in his search for love and finding his life before, he let his anger consume him and destroyed what he thought he wanted.

and ms lovett, well, she was in love with a man she knew she could never have. of course sweeney wouldn’t just forget about his wife. but she didn’t think of it that way; she was BETTER than his wife. why couldn’t he see that? and it manifests in her continuous dehumanization of lucy. in “poor thing” she seems very sympathetic to her, saying poor thing in a way where she sees lucy as something to be pitied. then throughout the musical we see her chasing her out, calling her dirty (paraphrased: i’ll not have people like you hanging around my fine establishment!) and the pièce de résistance being in the final sequence. and it’s revealed she knew who she was all along. “could that thing have cared for you like me?” that’s all that lucy is to her; a thing. she’s not a tragic tale of a woman who had her husband taken away from her, tricked into trusting a man who would later rape her and take away her child, driven to suicide that failed and left her insane, no, she’s just a thing trying to take away what is hers. in this case, todd.

with judge turpin, i think it’s kind of obvious. although it could be argued that it is more lust rather than love which i wouldn’t say i disagree with.

with johanna, it could be argued she didn’t truly love anthony but i would say i disagree. maybe that’s naivety or misplaced optimism. her love of anthony and his love back led them everywhere. it saved johanna from her room where she was trapped. anthony risked his life multiple times for her and she did back. she got locked in a mental asylum because she didn’t love judge turpin (who most likely saw her as a stand in for lucy) but anthony loved her more than he was afraid of anything. it’s unclear how much time passed but johanna says last august (“will we be married on sunday? thats what you promised— married on sunday. that was last august. kiss me!”) which implies a very sizeable amount of time passed. and yet, when anthony finds her he tells todd he finally found her. all this time he had been looking for johanna, his love. johanna killed for anthony. well yes, she did kill fogg in order to escape the asylum but she also did it to be reunited with anthony. and after all the time, when she was locked away, after a brief bit of turmoil they go back to talking like they did, as if no time had passed at all.

sweeney todd is a musical about murder and cannibalism and all that jazz, yes, but it’s most importantly a story about love and how we can do both terrible and great things for love.