#its fine i just have to get through this week (its not fine)

[darker-than-darkstorm]

I'm signed up with UpWork (among the many other job-hunting sites I'm signed up with), and three or so weeks ago I tried applying for a few jobs through it. Every time I'd get an error page.

(Don't worry, this connects)

After getting this message on every single job I tried to apply for, and checking the Status Site just told me that everything was supposedly working fine, I decided to contact Support and ask about it.

There is no way to contact support. There is only an AI chatbot (told you it connects!), and that's it. The chatbot kept asking me for the same information over and over, its only answer was to redirect me to the "Learning Center" videos, and every time I'd try to get around it by specifically asking for a human, it would just ask me for the same information again.

 ("𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖" "These are the details, the ones I've given you three times already" "𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝟹𝟶 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍?" "I would like to talk to a human" "𝙾𝚔𝚊𝚢, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖" "AAAAAGH")

Reddit suggested just saying "no" to the chatbot over and over again until it "took the hint" and let me open a real support ticket, but instead it just got weirdly passive-aggressive at me. "Well, okay! If you don't need any help, I'm here for you when you do need it!" No! I do need help, just not from YOU.

(They used to have community forums where you could at least ask for help from other users, but they removed those — deleting all the old discussions — two days after I had my problem, and you were already unable to post on them anymore)

Anyway, I never got to a human, and I never got my problem fixed, because another company decided that AI was much better than a human.

[helioooss]

pulling your face close, wanting the inmost

synopsis: its been three years since minjeong left y/n waiting at the altar. throughout it all, jimin comes along.

w/c: 4.5k+

warnings: angst, blood (you’re a doctor), fluff. winter x you x karina

a/n: do you think my sleepless nights will make me insane? be honest. also meant to be really short but got carried away

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train rattled as it sped through the early seoul morning, its harsh fluorescent lights bouncing off the windows and flickering faintly above you; hunched in the corner, staring blankly at the window; your scrubs noticeably wrinkled from the rushed way you’d thrown them on.

the person in the reflection was unrecognisable: hollow cheeks and dark circles etched like shadows beneath tired eyes — you were gaunt, tired; a reminder that the polished version of yourself, the one that used to smile, laugh and plan for a future, was long gone.

it screeched to a halt, jerking you out of whatever trance you were just in. as everyone else stood from their seats, you grabbed your bag and sighed; the weight of the day ahead pressing down on your shoulders.

your fingers tapped absently on your thigh as it slowed down, the doors automatically sliding open and you filed out with the rest of the crowd while keeping your head low.

the walk to the hospital from here wasn’t far, but you stopped at the station exit, digging a cigarette from your pocket. just one. it wasn’t a habit you were proud of, but it helped, even if only for a moment.

your hands trembled as you lit it and the first drag stung your lungs in a way that briefly drowned out everything else.

the memories clawed their way in anyway.

three years. it had been three years since minjeong walked out of your life without a word. she didn’t show up on the day that was supposed to mark your forever. no note. no call.

nothing but an empty altar and the stares of everyone you’d gathered to celebrate a love that, you’d come to realise, wasn’t as mutual as you believed.

it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

mingyu came back into the picture. you had seen the rumours floating around online weeks before the wedding, fans gushing over how they spotted him and minjeong leaving the same restaurant; smiling like they used to in the good old days.

you asked her about it once, casually, your voice steady even though your heart raced. “did you see mingyu recently?”

she’d looked at you then, her expression unreadable, and shrugged. “it was just a friendly dinner. nothing to worry about.”

and like the fool you were, you believed her.

you exhaled sharply, watching the smoke curl into the crisp morning air. the morning rush of people already blurring into nothingness.

another day. another shift. another chance to bury yourself in the monotony of work. shaking your head, you snuffed the cigarette under your heel and started walking.

asan medical center loomed ahead, its sterile walls a familiar cage. work was your only escape now. it was ironic, really — the same place where you met her, where your love story began, was now the place you buried yourself to forget her.

by the time you arrived, you instantly slipped into your usual routine: quiet, focused and distant. the staff knew you as a good doctor — reliable, efficient and calm under pressure, but they also knew you as someone impossible to get close to.

“morning y/n,” jiwoo greeted as she walked into the staff room, her tone overly chipper. she was one of the few residents who still tried to engage with you, even though your responses were always curt.

“morning,” you mumbled, not bothering to look up as you stirred a spoonful of sugar into your coffee.

“how was your day off?”

“fine,” you said shortly. “just stayed home.”

she frowned. “you should go out sometime. have fun. meet people.”

“i’m fine,” you shook your head, taking a sip of the still bitter liquid. “i love my dog’s company.”

she hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but eventually gave up as her shoulders slouched. “let me know if you ever want to hang out sometime, yeah? perhaps, you can even bring rome around.”

you nodded, not really hearing her. the truth was, you didn’t want to talk. not to her, not to anyone. talking meant opening up, and opening up meant risking another heartbreak. you couldn’t do it again.

three years ago, you would’ve been a different person — someone who laughed easily, loved deeply and believed in forever.

today, you were someone who stood in front of a room full of people, trying to find an explanation through tears because the woman you loved had run away. the embarrassment of that day still clung to you, a weight you couldn’t shake. there was nothing you could do except apologise to everyone — your parents, her parents, the guests.

but mostly, you apologised to yourself, for believing that you were enough for her.

it hit you the hardest that night, when you were alone in your flat, still dressed in your wedding suit that had taken you weeks to pick out.

the silence was deafening then, and for the first time, you realised she never loved you the way you loved her.

you didn’t hate her. you wanted to — god, you wanted to hate her. but you couldn’t. she was still the same woman who once made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drag you out of the rain just to kiss; the person who knew you the most.

she was still the love of your life.

and that was the cruelest part of it all.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the day was dragging in the way only hospital shifts could. fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead and the faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, clinging to your scrubs. your shoulders were tight, weighed down by exhaustion and the kind of hollow loneliness you’ve since stopped trying to fight.

you were scanning through patient charts at the nurses’ station when you heard her voice — bright and teasing, cutting like sunlight through thick curtains.

“there she is,” she called out as she strode towards you, a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of iced coffee in the other.

you groaned inwardly; not another one.

jimin was the last person you wanted to see. her presence was like a splash of colour in a grey world, drawing the attention of everyone around her.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your tone more clipped than you intended.

she ignored the edge in your voice, plopping the bag onto the desk in front of you. “bringing you lunch, obviously. you’ve been skipping meals, haven’t you?”

“i’m fine,” you replied, already turning back to the chart in your hands.

“you’re always ‘fine,’” she said, rolling her eyes. “and yet you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“what do you want from me?” you groaned, exhaling heavily as you closed the charts and began your stride towards the staff room.

it was easier to deal with her alone than be surrounded by people gossiping: what is minjeong’s best friend doing with her ex-fiancée?

“checking on you, obviously,” she said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “also, you skipped lunch again. so…” she quickened her pace behind you. “rina brought reinforcements.”

you sighed, glancing at her briefly. her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and she was dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans.

for someone constantly in the public eye, she had a way of blending in when she wanted to.

“i didn’t ask for reinforcements,” you muttered, opening the door for her. “and i don’t need checking on daily.”

“clearly,” she replied, sarcasm lacing her tone as she looked up at you. “because you’re the picture of health and happiness.”

you shook your head. “you’re so…ugh, just something else.”

she opened the bag on the table, the smell immediately greeting your starved senses. “that’s why i brought food because if i left it up to you, you’d just keep surviving on coffee and whatever snacks you find lying around.”

you didn’t answer. you knew she meant well. jimin was one of the few people who hadn’t given up on you, even after you’d pushed her away countless times.

she started visiting you a year after the wedding-that-wasn’t, showing up with coffee, proper meals or just her company. you didn’t know why she bothered and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“it’s your favourite,” she added, sliding the box towards you. “spicy pork and rice. come on, don’t make me waste a good meal.”

the smell of the food wafted up to you as you hesitated. it had been hours since you’d eaten and your stomach growled in betrayal. reluctantly, you grabbed the chopsticks and opened the container.

“there we go,” she said with a grin, settling into the chair across from you as she opened her own container; tonkatsu.

“you’re persistent,” you told her, taking a bite.

“someone has to be,” she replied, her voice softer now.

for a while, the only sound between you was the quiet clink of chopsticks against the container as you both ate in solitude. but jimin wasn’t the kind of person to let silence linger for long.

“how long are you planning to keep this up?” she asked suddenly as she threw her container into the bag, breaking the silence.

“keep what up?” you replied without looking at her, focusing instead on stabbing at a piece of pork with your chopsticks.

“this,” she said, gesturing vaguely at you. “the whole ‘lone wolf who doesn’t need anyone’ thing. it’s getting old.”

you sighed, not bothering to look up. “why do you care?”

“because i do,” she said simply, her tone infuriatingly casual.

you rolled your eyes, setting your chopsticks down with a little more force than necessary. “rina, we barely know each other these days. why do you bother to check in on me almost everyday?”

“i don’t know,” her grin faded, replaced by something more serious. “you were minjeong’s everything. and, for what it’s worth, she was my best friend. so maybe i care because i know what it’s like to be left behind by her too. or maybe, i simply just care about you.”

the words hit you harder than you expected. you looked up at her for the first time, caught off guard by the raw honesty in her voice.

“she left you too,” you said quietly, more a statement than a question.

she nodded, leaning back in her chair. “she was my anchor, you know? and then, one day, she was just…gone. no explanation, no goodbye. sound familiar?”

you swallowed hard, the ache in your chest growing sharper. “yeah, it does.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken grief and the strange sense of kinship that came with it.

after awhile, jimin cleared her throat, the light teasing tone slipping back into her voice as she watched you clean up. “so,” she began, “how’s rome? still the world’s most dramatic sausage dog?”

your chopsticks paused mid-air. rome. yours and minjeong’s dachshund. or just your sausage dog now, since she’d left. he’d been one of the few things that kept you going after she disappeared, a small source of comfort in a world that felt unbearably empty.

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “he’s fine,” you said cautiously, not quite ready to let your guard down.

she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “just ‘fine’? come on, y/n. give me something.”

you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “he’s good. healthy. still hates the postman.”

“classic rome,” she said, laughing softly. “does he still steal your socks?”

“every chance he gets,” you admitted, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “he buried one of my favourite pairs in the garden last week. i didn’t even know he could dig that deep.”

“a true criminal mastermind,” she laughed. “i miss him.”

you tilted your head, studying her for a moment. “i don’t think he hasn’t forgotten you.”

her smile faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to the table. “good, i’d like to bother him sometime.”

you nodded, not pushing further. the silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before, but it still carried the weight of everything unsaid.

“i have to go back to work soon,” you muttered slowly. “thanks for bringing me lunch, again.”

she leaned forward once more, resting her elbows on the table. “you know, you’re a lot nicer when you talk about rome.”

“am i?” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah,” she chuckled, grinning. “maybe you should bring him to work. he could be a therapy dog or something.”

“not sure the hospital would appreciate that,” you replied, shaking your head.

“probably not,” she agreed. “you talk about him more than you talk about yourself.”

“what’s there to talk about?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.

“a lot,” she said simply. “but you won’t let anyone in long enough to find out.”

“maybe because there’s nothing worth finding out,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended.

she didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. “i don’t really believe that. i know you.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat because a small part of you, buried beneath the layers of grief and anger and self-imposed isolation, wanted to believe she was right.

“you don’t have to do this, you know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “come here. check on me. it’s…unnecessary.”

“it’s not about necessity — it’s about wanting to. and i want to, y/n. because whether you believe it or not, you matter to me,” then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she added, “you know what you should do? come to dinner with us tonight. aeri is hosting dinner at her place. yizhuo will be there too and they’d love to see you.”

“i don’t know…i’m not really built for —“

“they miss you,” she cut you off gently. “we all do. you don’t have to stay long. just come, have some food, catch up. it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

you frowned, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your lunch container. “i’m not great at…socialising these days.”

“that’s fine,” she reassured, her voice soft. “just come as you are. no one’s expecting anything from you.”

you hesitated, torn between the comfort of your solitude and the faint pull of connection her words stirred in you. “i’ll think about it,” you said finally, though the words felt like an excuse.

for a moment, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to let her in, to let someone care about you again. but the fear of losing her — of losing anyone — was too much.

“don’t just think about it,” she said, standing up and grabbing her things. “you’re coming. i’ll pick you up after your shift. and don’t even think about bailing.”

“rina —”

“i mean it, y/n,” she cut you off with a grin that somehow felt more like a challenge. “we’ll eat at aeri’s. it’ll be fun. you might even smile. who knows?”

you shook your head, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips as you watched her walk away. she paused at the door, turning back to look at you.

“and bring pictures of rome,” she added. “aeri and yizhuo will want to see how much of a menace he’s become.”

you didn’t respond, but you nodded, the warmth of her persistence lingering even after she was gone. as you returned to your rounds, you caught yourself thinking about her smile, her persistence, her refusal to give up on you.

you hated how it made you feel. hated the tiny flicker of warmth it sparked in a heart you had sworn to keep cold.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the shift had been surprisingly uneventful. for once, you weren’t racing from one emergency to the next and the patients you saw were mostly routine cases; check-ups, minor injuries, nothing life-threatening. as the hours dragged on, you found yourself in a slightly better mood than usual, a rare occurrence these days.

the thought of dinner at aeri’s later still felt strange, but not as daunting as it had earlier. perhaps it was the conversation with jimin, or maybe you were just too tired to keep holding up the walls you’d built around yourself.

jiwoo, ever persistent in her cheerful attempts to connect with you, caught up with you as you clocked out. “you seemed a bit more relaxed today,” she said, her tone light but teasing. “you’re not scaring off the patients as much.”

you smirked faintly, shaking your head. “glad to know i’m improving.”

as the two of you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. you pulled out your nearly empty cigarette box, shaking one out with practised ease. the box crinkled, reminding you that you’d bought it only yesterday. you lit up, the flame from your lighter flickering briefly before catching.

she wrinkled her nose. “you really should quit, you know.”

“yeah, yeah,” you muttered, exhaling smoke into the air. “everyone’s a critic.”

she folded her arms, watching you for a moment before changing the subject. “so…karina from aespa really just brings you lunch sometimes? i feel like you’re pulling my leg.”

you chuckled softly, the sound surprising both of you. “it’s true. we know each other from my…better days.”

she tilted her head, curiosity written all over her face. “what does that mean?”

you hesitated, taking another drag from your cigarette. “we were friends. through minjeong.”

her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t press further. she’d been around long enough to know your ex was a subject best avoided. instead, she smiled softly. “must be nice to have someone like that still looking out for you.”

“it is,” you admitted quietly, unintentionally exhaling curls of smoke towards her direction. “sorry.”

she chuckled, shaking her head. “it’s okay — and you seem really bright around her, you know? i think she brings out the best in you.”

you hummed, nodding as you stubbed the cigarette under your shoe. “she’s just a friend; nothing more.”

minjeong and jimin. two names you hadn’t expected to be tied together so tightly in your mind. yet, lately, it was impossible not to think of one without the other.

minjeong had been everything to you once. she was the love you thought would last forever, the one you trusted with all of yourself. and even though she had shattered you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. there was a part of you that would always respect what you shared, even if it ended so painfully.

and then there was jimin. minjeong’s best friend. the one who had been there long before you entered the picture. the one who probably knew minjeong better than anyone else.

it felt…strange, wrong even, to start seeing jimin in a way that might be more than friendship. you respected her too much — her persistence, her kindness, the way she stayed by your side when no one else could reach you. she wasn’t just some comforting presence in your life; she was someone you admired deeply.

before jiwoo could say anything else, a sleek black car pulled up to the kerb. jimin leaned out of the driver’s side window, her signature grin lighting up her face. “well, well. look who’s socialising.”

her jaw practically dropped. “oh my god, it really is her.”

jimin waved casually. “hey, jiwoo, right? need a lift? there’s plenty of room.”

jiwoo blushed furiously, waving her hands. “oh, no, no. my boyfriend’s coming to pick me up. but thanks.”

“suit yourself,” she said, winking playfully before turning her attention to you. “you ready?”

you nodded, giving jiwoo a small wave before slipping into the passenger seat. the car smelled like leather and a faint hint of vanilla, a stark contrast to the cigarette smoke still clinging to your scrubs.

“you reek of cigarettes, you know,” she pointed out as she pulled out onto the road, her tone more teasing than scolding. “how many have you had today?”

you shrugged, leaning your head against the window. “i don’t count.”

“you should. your lungs aren’t invincible, doctor,” she quipped, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you smirked faintly. “and you’re suddenly a health expert?”

“no,” she admitted, grinning. “but i care about you not hacking up a lung in ten years.”

the corners of your mouth twitched, the warmth of her concern nudging at the edges of your guarded heart. you changed the subject, gesturing at the car’s pristine interior. “nice car.”

“of course it’s nice,” she replied, flashing a proud smile. “you think i’d settle for anything less?”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head. “why do you think i catch the train, then?”

she glanced at you, curious. “i always wondered about that. you can afford a car. why put yourself through that misery?”

you hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “because…i don’t know. it makes me feel better. seeing a million other miserable people in the train. reminds me i’m not the only one stuck in this mess.”

jimin didn’t respond immediately, her grip on the wheel tightening slightly. when she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “you’re not as miserable as you think, y/n.”

you huffed a small laugh, not entirely believing her but appreciating the sentiment. “sure.”

the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, just reflective. it was jimin who broke it. “do you need to stop anywhere before we head to aeri’s?”

you hesitated for a moment before nodding. “can we stop at my apartment? i need to feed rome and shower. i smell like the hospital.”

“of course,” she said, her tone brightening. “you know, i don’t mind. i’m just happy to hear more than two words out of you.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the faint smile tugging at your lips. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” she quipped, her grin widening as she turned the car towards your apartment.

the rest of the ride to your place was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. you found yourself glancing at her more than you intended, the soft light highlighting the gentle curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell just so around her face. she was undeniably beautiful.

it wasn’t something you hadn’t noticed before —jimin had always been striking, but sitting this close to her, the air between you filled with the faint scent of her perfume, it felt different.

more intimate.

your gaze lingered on her profile, tracing the slope of her nose, the soft pink of her lips, the way her expression relaxed whenever the traffic eased. the thought crept into your mind unbidden, catching you off guard: she’s really beautiful.

the streets blurred past, but your mind was elsewhere, swirling with a mixture of confusion and guilt. it felt wrong to think about her like that when she was minjeong’s best friend.

it was complicated enough having her in your life so prominently now. you couldn’t add feelings to the mix.

“what’s wrong?” jimin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

you turned to see her glancing at you briefly before returning her focus to the road. her question made your heart race slightly and you felt heat creeping up your neck.

“nothing,” you said quickly, your voice betraying your awkwardness.

she smirked, clearly unconvinced. “you’ve been quiet. and you keep looking at me. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you swallowed hard, your palms suddenly feeling clammy. you debated brushing it off, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. “you…you just look nice today, that’s all.”

the silence that followed was deafening. her grip on the steering wheel faltered slightly and her cheeks flushed a soft pink, lips parting as if she was going to say something, but she quickly pressed them together, biting back a grin.

“shut up,” she said finally, her voice quieter than usual, but the blush on her face betrayed her.

you felt your own cheeks burn, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you were in the small car.

“i was just saying,” you mumbled, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

“yeah, well, don’t,” she shot back, though her tone was more playful than serious.

the tension between you was palpable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was something else entirely, something neither of you was ready to name.

the car rolled to a stop just outside your apartment building, its headlights briefly illuminating the cracked pavement. you unbuckled your seatbelt, glancing up at the familiar, worn façade of the place you’d called home for years. it looked the same, but somehow it always felt emptier every time you came back.

“hey,” jimin began, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “can i please see rome? just for a minute. aeri and yizhuo will be so jealous.”

you frowned, your hand pausing on the door handle. “my apartment’s a mess. i haven’t had anyone over in a long time.”

“i don’t care,” she said easily, her grin unfaltering. “you should see the state of mine. you’d think i was filming a disaster documentary.”

you sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “fine. but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

she flashed a triumphant smile. “deal.”

in the elevator, you found yourself uncharacteristically aware of her presence. it wasn’t just that she was your ex-fiancée’s ex-best friend — it was the fact that, even after everything, jimin was still here, still trying to pull you out of the dark pit you had thrown yourself into.

you shifted awkwardly, your hand trembling slightly at your side. the metal walls of the elevator seemed to amplify your unease. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed your hand. her grip was steady, grounding, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to hold on.

“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t respond, but her touch was enough to steady you.

as soon as you unlocked the door, the sound of tiny paws skittering across the hardwood floor filled the air. rome came bounding towards you, his tail wagging so hard it looked like it might fall off.

“romie,” you said, your voice softening for the first time all day. you crouched down to pet him, his fur warm and familiar against your hand.

jimin let out an audible gasp. “oh my god. he’s even cuter than i remember.” she immediately dropped her bag and scooped him up, cradling him like a baby. “hi, buddy. remember me?”

he licked her face enthusiastically, his little legs wriggling in her arms. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even as you stood up and rubbed the back of your neck.

“make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the apartment. “i’m going to get ready.”

she nodded, her attention fully on rome. “take your time. we’re going to have a bonding moment.”

as you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water began to echo faintly, muffled by the door you’d closed behind you. she sat on the edge of your sofa with rome, her eyes wandering around your apartment.

the place was cleaner than she expected — it wasn’t messy, but it felt bare. the walls were stripped of personality and there wasn’t a single photo or decoration to suggest that anyone else had once shared this space with you. it was a stark contrast to the way she remembered it years ago, when minjeong had still been part of your life.

now, it was as if you had erased every trace of her.

her gaze drifted to the kitchen counter, where an open bottle of whiskey sat next to a half-empty glass. there were other bottles too, some empty, others half-finished, lined up neatly on the sideboard. her chest tightened at the sight, and she had to swallow the sudden lump in her throat.

all she wanted to do was love you. all of you. the person you were now, the person you had been before, even the parts that you were trying to bury under layers of pain and grief.

jimin leaned back against the sofa, letting out a soft sigh as her thoughts turned inward. it should feel wrong, this pull she felt toward you. you were minjeong’s ex-fiancée. she had been your everything once. she had seen it firsthand — the way the two of you fit together, the quiet understanding in your shared glances; your love seemed unshakable.

and yet, here she was, sitting in your apartment, waiting for you while you showered, her heart heavy with feelings she couldn’t push away.

she didn’t know when it had started. this shift in how she saw you. maybe it was that day at the hospital, months ago. she’d been visiting aeri and yizhuo and wanted to bring you lunch when she passed by the paediatrics ward and caught sight of you comforting a young boy.

he had been crying, terrified of getting his vaccinations and you’d knelt down to his level, your voice soft and reassuring.

“it’s okay,” you reassured in a gentle tone, holding out your hand for him to squeeze. “you’re so brave. and once it’s over, you’ll get a cool sticker. how about that?”

the boy had stopped crying long enough to nod and you smiled at him — wide, genuine and full of warmth. it had been the first time she had seen you smile like that in years.

all it took was that one moment.

she had tried to suppress her feelings after that. tried to remind herself of the boundaries she needed to keep but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about you.

she had gone on dates, tried seeing other people, hoping it would dull the ache but none of them made her feel the way you did.

no one else mattered. it was maddening as it was terrifying, but it was also undeniable.

jimin ran a hand through her hair, her fingers brushing against the back of her neck as she let out another sigh. aeri and yizhuo didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with how she felt.

“i don’t really see the problem,” aeri had said bluntly one night over dinner, shrugging as she picked her rice. “minjeong packed up and left her old life behind. what’s the problem?”

“you’re not stealing anyone’s woman,” yizhuo chimed in with a smirk, earning a glare from jimin.

“it’s not that simple,” jimin argued, though their words had lingered.

now, sitting here in your apartment, surrounded by the quiet evidence of your pain, she felt the full weight of her feelings.

she wasn’t just drawn to you — she was in love with you. completely, overwhelmingly in love.

the water shut off and the apartment grew silent. she straightened slightly, her heart pounding as she heard you moving around in the bathroom. she didn’t know if she could ever say it out loud, but in this moment, she didn’t need to.

“he likes you,” you said as you stepped out, nodding towards rome, who was now curled up in her lap, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

“what’s not to like?” she replied, scratching behind his ears. “he’s a smart dog. clearly knows quality people when he sees them.”

“right, of course,” you gave a faint smile, leaning against the doorframe. “ready to go?”

“yeah,” she said, reluctantly setting rome down. she grabbed her bag and followed you to the door, glancing back once at the apartment before stepping out.

as you rode down in the elevator, the silence between you was comfortable this time. she didn’t say anything about the empty walls or the whiskey, but when she handed you her car keys so you could unlock the door for her, her fingers brushed against yours and the gesture spoke louder than any words could.

…this shouldn’t be happening.

when the doors slid open to the ground floor, jimin spun her keys around her finger, her expression bright with mischief. she tossed them towards you without warning, the metal jingling as they flew through the air.

“you’re driving,” she declared, slipping into the passenger seat before you could argue.

you caught the keys instinctively, furrowing your brow. “why?”

“because,” she said, already buckling her seatbelt, “i want to test your driving skills. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

you gave her an unimpressed look, holding the keys loosely in your hand. “you just want to be a passenger princess.”

she gasped theatrically, clutching at her chest like you just insulted her deepest values. “how dare you. i am not a passenger princess.”

“sure,” you said, shaking your head as you got into the driver’s seat. “whatever you say.”

jimin smirked, leaning back into the seat with a smug expression. “prove me wrong then. show me you can still handle a car like the pro you are.”

you rolled your eyes but started the car anyway, the familiar hum of the engine filling the space between you. as you adjusted the mirrors and pulled out onto the street, you couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at your lips.

for the first time in a while, the banter felt easy, even enjoyable.

but then, without thinking, the words slipped out.

“minjeong used to do that,” you muttered softly, almost to yourself. “she would always make me drive so she could either pick the music or nap.”

the air in the car shifted instantly, the lightness replaced by something heavier. you stiffened, gripping the steering wheel tightly as you realised what you said. your eyes stayed firmly on the road, the silence between you now deafening.

she didn’t speak right away and for a moment, you wished the earth would just swallow you whole.

then, she broke the silence, her voice softer, more careful. “you know…it’s okay to talk about her, i don’t mind.”

you blinked, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “is it?” you said flatly, though there was no anger in your tone, just weariness.

“yeah,” she replied turning slightly to face you. “it’s okay to acknowledge that she existed. that you loved her even though she hurt you, pretending she didn’t matter isn’t going to help you move on.”

you swallowed hard, throat tightening. the logical part of you knew she was right, but the emotional part; the one that still felt raw and exposed whenever minjeong’s name came up wasn’t ready to admit it.

so you said nothing, the silence stretching uncomfortably again.

after a minute of beating around the bush, jimin sighed softly, her voice tinged with regret. “sorry. i didn’t mean to push. i just —”

“it’s fine,” you interrupted, surprising even yourself with the quiet sincerity in your voice. you glanced at her briefly, a small, genuine smile crossing your face. “really.”

she relaxed visibly, her shoulders dropping as the tension eased. “okay,” she said, her own smile returning, though it was softer this time.

as you drove, jimin’s own thoughts began to spiral. hearing you talk about minjeong felt like a punch to the gut, but she couldn’t blame you. she was your first love, the one who had taken up all the space in your heart before it was broken.

how could she even try to compete with that?

she knew there was a part of you that might never stop loving minjeong, no matter how much time passed.

she glanced at you again, catching the way your shoulders had relaxed slightly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

it doesn’t matter how long it takes, she thought to herself. i’ll wait. for as long as it takes, i’ll wait for her.

when you pulled up to aeri’s apartment building, jimin hopped out of the car, clearly energised. she waited for you to join her, rocking on her heels as you locked the car behind you.

“ready for the chaos?” she asked, flashing a grin.

“as ready as i’ll ever be,” you muttered, following her into the lift as you took the luxurious sight in. “god, she’s expensive as ever, isn’t she?”

she chuckled, tapping your arm lightly. “don’t say anything about it or else you’re going to start a fight.”

the elevator doors slid shut with a soft hum, the quiet clink of the mechanisms filling the small space. you stood beside her, your hand clutching the strap of your bag as your stomach twisted with nerves.

it had been years since you had last been to aeri’s apartment, and now, as the numbers on the elevator panel lit up one by one, the memories began flooding back.

everything felt heavier in your chest — the last time you were here, everything was different. you hadn’t seen those girls properly in so long and the thought of walking into a space that had once felt so familiar left you uneasy.

jimin, standing close to you, noticed the slight tremour in your hand. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed it once more, her fingers warm and firm against yours.

“you’re okay,” she said softly, her voice steady. “it’s just aeri and yizhuo. they’re gonna be so happy to see you.”

you nodded but didn’t say anything, focusing instead on the way her hand steadied your own. as the elevator neared the top floor, she started to pull away, her fingers slipping from yours.

but you held on, tightening your grip instinctively. “can you —” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “just for a bit longer.”

she didn’t say anything, but her fingers curled back around yours, holding on tightly. the two of you stood like that in silence, the elevator’s hum filling the space; it felt like the calm before a storm you weren’t sure you could weather alone.

the elevator dinged and you stepped into the hallway with jimin by your side. your hand was still holding hers from earlier, though you hadn’t realised it until she glanced down briefly, her fingers tightening just a little before she let go.

“sorry,” you awkwardly mumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“don’t be.”

the warmth lingered even as you adjusted the strap of your bag and followed her toward aeri’s door; it opened before you could even knock.

“y/n!” aeri’s voice was the first thing you heard, loud and filled with surprise and excitement. “no way, it’s really you!”

you barely had time to blink before she lunged forward, throwing her arms around your neck and dragging you into a tight hug. before you could respond, a second body crashed into you from the side — yizhuo, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

“oh my gosh, she’s actually here,” yizhuo said, her grin wide as she squeezed you tightly. “rina, what the hell did you do to her? hypnosis? bribery? a chloroform rag?”

“definitely drugged her bubble tea,” aeri chimed in, her face still buried in your shoulder. “there’s no way y/n came here willingly.”

“guys, get off me!” you laughed, trying to push them away, but your voice lacked any real force. their energy was infectious, and though part of you wanted to retreat, a bigger part…one you hadn’t felt in years just wanted to stay in this moment.

“nope,” yizhuo groaned, holding on even tighter. “you don’t get to vanish for two years and show up out of nowhere like nothing happened. you’re gonna deal with this. this being us smothering you with love.”

“you should be grateful,” aeri added with a smirk, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. “this is premium-grade affection. we don’t just give this to anyone.”

jimin stood to the side, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “i didn’t drug her, by the way,” she said casually, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “she came because she missed you guys. obviously.”

“liar,” yizhuo shot back, narrowing her eyes. “there’s no way y/n came willingly. what’s your secret, jimin? blackmail? compromising photos?”

“it was the bubble tea,” jimin said, straight-faced. “i spiked it with nostalgia.”

“sounds like you put something stronger than nostalgia in there,” aeri quipped, her grin widening.

you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “you guys are ridiculous.”

“you missed us,” yizhuo said smugly, finally releasing you from her grip. “admit it.”

“maybe,” you muttered, smoothing down your shirt. “a little.”

aeri gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “a little? i’m hurt. offended, even.”

jimin stepped forward, pulling out her phone. “hold still,” she said, her grin mischievous. “this is a historic moment.”

“don’t you dare,” you warned, your voice rising in mock panic as she aimed the camera at the three of you.

the flash went off before you could stop her, capturing a candid shot of aeri still clinging to your side, yizhuo laughing uncontrollably and you mid-protest with a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“perfect,” jimin said, already typing away as she uploaded the photo to her story. “caption: my three idiots.”

“three?” aeri asked, raising an eyebrow. “don’t you mean two idiots and one innocent victim?”

“you’re definitely the biggest idiot here,” yizhuo smirked at her. “but it’s okay. we still love you.”

“barely,” jimin quipped, her tone teasing as she slid her phone back into her pocket.

the apartment buzzed with laughter and conversation as the four of you settled in for dinner. the table was covered in food — aeri’s version of cooking: ramen, pizza boxes, bowls of chips and a bottle of wine that she had insisted on opening way before dinner.

“so,” aeri began, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “doctor, what have you been up to? saving lives? breaking hearts? fighting crime?”

“you act like i’ve been doing something exciting,” you shook your head as you picked at your pizza. “it’s just been work. and more work.”

“classic y/n,” yizhuo threw her hands up dramatically. “always married to the job.”

“it’s a demanding spouse,” you joked, surprising yourself at how easily the humour came.

“does it at least make you breakfast in bed?” aeri teased, wagging her eyebrows.

“nope,” you replied, smirking. “just gives me migraines.”

“sounds toxic,” jimin said, her voice light. “you should break up with it.”

“and do what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “become a full-time boba taster?”

“not a bad idea,” yizhuo chimed in, taking another bite of her slice. “you’d have jimin’s full support.”

aeri shrugged. “or you could just be her housewife. she’s a millionaire, you know?”

you dared to steal a glance, expecting jimin to brush off their teasing, but instead, she was looking right at you. her gaze was steady, her lips tugged into the faintest smile.

the way she looked at you sent your heart racing and you quickly looked away, focusing on the slice of pizza in your hand as if it held all the answers in the universe.

as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, your initial nervousness melting away under the warmth of their banter. but then your eyes wandered to the wall across the room, where a cluster of framed photos hung.

they were all of aespa — smiling, performing, and posing together in various moments that captured their bond. your gaze caught one in particular: minjeong standing between aeri and yizhuo, her face frozen in time among her friends.

the memories threatened to creep in, but before they could overwhelm you, you felt jimin’s gaze on you. you glanced over and she was already smiling softly, her expression reassuring. it was enough to steady you, to remind you that it was okay to feel what you felt.

“we haven’t done much since minjeong left,” aeri’s voice cut through the comfortable buzz of the room.

“yeah,” yizhuo added, swirling her wine glass. “we’ve released a few singles here and there, but it’s not the same. we’re not really aespa without her.”

jimin nodded, her expression thoughtful. “it’s been different,” she admitted. “but we’re figuring it out.”

“figuring it out,” yizhuo repeated, snorting. “aka, doing nothing but lazing around and ordering takeout.”

aeri grinned. “we’ve perfected the art of slacking, we should win awards for it.”

their banter was light and the laughter genuine. it pulled you back into the moment. for the first time in what felt like forever, you found yourself laughing along with them — really laughing.

as the night wore on, the chaos around the table began to settle into a comfortable rhythm. the laughter quieted and the conversation took on a more relaxed, intimate tone. the pizza boxes were mostly empty and aeri poured another glass of wine for herself and yizhuo, both of them visibly enjoying the rare moment of everyone being together.

with your bag slung over your shoulder, jimin stood by the door while aeri and yizhuo hugged you tightly.

“you know,” aeri began, leaning back. “it’s really nice to have you here, y/n. we’ve missed you.”

“like, really missed you,” yizhuo said, her tone serious for once. “i mean, i know life’s been…a lot. but you don’t have to disappear on us, you know? we’re always here for you.”

the words hung in the air, their sincerity hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at the table for a moment, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your glass.

“i know,” you said quietly, your voice softer than usual. “and i’m sorry. for shutting you guys out. it wasn’t fair. i was more embarrassed —“

“it’s not about fair,” aeri interjected gently, setting her glass down. “we just don’t want to lose you again. you’re important to us, y/n. even if you’ve got your walls up, we’ll keep knocking.”

“and by knocking, she means barging in,” yizhuo added with a grin, earning a laugh from both you and jimin.

“i mean it, though,” she continued, her tone earnest. “we’re here for you. anytime.”

jimin glanced at you, her eyes soft, but she didn’t say anything. she didn’t need to — the look she gave you was enough.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “thanks, i…i missed you guys too. i’ll see you guys next weekend?”

“of course,” yizhuo smiled, kissing your cheek goodbye. “rome better be prepared for aeri’s annoying ass.”

aeri rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “stop talking, ning, y/n has to go!”

“yeah, right, forgot you guys were unemployed,” you rubbed the back of your head with a laugh as you turned and began to walk with jimin. “see you both soon.”

the walk back to jimin’s car was quiet, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the apartment. you shoved your hands into your pockets, your footsteps echoing lightly on the pavement. she walked beside you, her shoulder close enough to brush against yours occasionally.

“you okay?” she asked after a moment, glancing at you.

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, i had a good time.”

“good,” she said simply, her own smile soft and genuine.

you hesitated, your gaze fixed on the ground as you spoke. “i didn’t realise how much i missed them. being with them…it felt normal. like…like things weren’t so heavy for a while.”

she nodded, her pace slowing slightly. “that’s the thing about aeri and yizhuo. they’re chaotic as fuck, but they have this way of making you forget about the rest of the world.”

“they do,” you agreed, your smile widening just a fraction. “i think i needed that.”

she stopped walking and turned to face you, her hands slipping into her coat pockets. “you don’t have to wait two years to do it again, you know. they meant it when they said they’re here for you. and so did i.”

you met her gaze, the sincerity in her eyes making your chest tighten. “i know. and…thanks, rina. for everything.”

she shrugged lightly, though the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “you don’t have to thank me. i just want you to be okay.”

“i think…i’m getting there,” you admitted, your voice soft. “slowly.”

she smiled, her expression a mix of relief and something else you couldn’t quite name. “that’s all that matters.”

as the two of you reached the car, you hesitated again, the words forming on your lips before you could stop them. “jimin?”

“yeah?” she asked, pausing as she unlocked the doors.

you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “thank you. for not giving up on me. and…for reminding me that it’s okay to let people in.”

her smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze your arm briefly. “i never would. i’m just glad you’re here.”

you nodded, climbing into the passenger seat as she started the car. as she drove, the hum of the engine and the faint city lights passing by felt less daunting than they usually did. for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. and perhaps, you didn’t have to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train rocked gently as it made its way through seoul’s early morning haze. you sat in your usual spot by the window, absently watching the buildings blur together. for once, you didn’t look like you had just rolled out of bed and barely made it to the station; your scrubs were tidy, hair tied back neatly and there was even a faint sheen of moisturiser on your face — a small but deliberate effort to feel a little more presentable.

it wasn’t much, but it was something. after that dinner with the remaining members of aespa, you found yourself thinking…about how much you had isolated yourself and how it might not be the worst thing in the world to try again.

to exist around people who cared.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. you hesitated before pulling it out, already knowing who it would be.

-

from: jimin - aespa

do you still like purple taro bubble tea or has your taste in drinks gotten worse too?

sent 7:50 AM

-

you sighed, the faintest of smiles tugging at your lips despite yourself. she had a way of making her presence known, whether you wanted it or not. since dinner at aeri’s, she had been texting you more often, showing up at the hospital and generally refusing to let you retreat back into your solitude.

you stared at the message for a long moment, the smile fading as doubt crept in.

why was she doing this? why did she care? she was an idol, a successful one at that, with a million other things she could be doing.

the thought made your chest tighten. you typed a response, your fingers moving quickly.

to: jimin - aespa

yes, but you should do better things with your time than hanging out at the hospital with me.

sent 7:51 AM

you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were being too harsh, but the thought of her spending so much effort on you — it felt undeserved. and it scared you. you hit send and immediately turned your phone off, tucking it back into your pocket.

the train ride passed in a blur, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels luring you into a daze. when you stepped off at your station, the morning chill greeted you, sharp against your skin. you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, your hand instinctively reaching into your pocket for your cigarette box. the box was light — too light — but you fished out a cigarette and lit it, the flame flickering in the breeze.

you took a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. it didn’t help much, never did, but it gave you something to do, something to focus on. your thoughts, as they often did, drifted to minjeong. her face, her voice, the way she used to call you at the hospital just to complain about how exhausting her day was.

but lately, your thoughts had started to wander elsewhere, too. to jimin. her relentless persistence, her easy smiles and just the way she had managed to slip into your life without you even realising. you hated how much space she was starting to take up in your head.

it felt…complicated. and you didn’t do complicated anymore.

as you walked, cigarette still in hand, your gaze caught on a small coffee shop just opening for the morning. the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted out, the barista flipping the “open” sign to face the street. you stopped in your tracks, hesitating before stepping inside.

the shop was warm, the faint whir of an espresso machine filling the air. you approached the counter, glancing at the menu even though you already knew what you wanted.

“can i get a caramel latte?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. after a pause, you added: “actually, make that two. one iced, one hot.”

the barista nodded, tapping your order into the register. you waited by the counter, the warmth of the shop a sharp contrast to the cool morning outside.

when the drinks were ready, you grabbed the cups and stepped back out onto the street, beginning your trek towards the hospital, the steam from the hot latte curling into the chilly air.

you didn’t usually do this — go out of your way for someone else. but jiwoo had been kind to you for nearly a year now, always trying to engage, smiling even when you brushed her off. maybe it was time to start giving something back, even if just a little.

when you walked into the hospital, the familiar buzz of activity greeted you. you spotted jiwoo at the nurses’ station, her head bent over a stack of charts.

you approached her quietly, holding out the iced caramel latte. “here.”

she looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. “what’s this?”

“thought you’d like one,” you replied, shrugging.

she stared at you for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “wow, y/n. are you feeling okay? did you hit your head?”

you rolled your eyes, but there was a faint smile on your lips. “don’t get used to it.”

she laughed, taking the drink. “thank you. seriously. this is…really sweet of you.”

you nodded, already turning to leave. “see you later.”

“karina’s a good influence isn’t she?” she raised an eyebrow, teasing tone audible. you flipped her off, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

right.

the rest of the day passed in a haze of patient charts and routine procedures. you kept your phone off, avoiding the temptation to check for a reply from jimin but as the hours wore on, you found yourself thinking about her text more and more.

despite your earlier message, you couldn’t shake the image of her showing up at the hospital later, bubble tea in hand, her grin as smug as ever.

you hated how much the thought warmed you. but you didn’t push it away either. maybe you were starting to feel okay with someone caring again.

the faint hum of fluorescent lights filled the space as you flipped through a patient’s chart. it was a rare quiet in your often chaotic schedule these past few days, one that allowed you a moment to breathe and reset before the next inevitable call.

signing off on an order, you heaved out a sigh as you reached out for your pen. then, an older nurse came barrelling towards you — panting.

“doctor y/n!” she called, her tone sharp enough to cut through the calm.

you straightened immediately, the chart forgotten. “what is it?”

“we’ve got a trauma case in the OR,” she said, her words rushing out in a panicked stream. “male, thirty-one, massive internal bleeding from a car accident. he’s critical. there’s no other trauma surgeon on call.”

you froze for half a second, the weight of her words sinking in. the situation wasn’t unusual; emergencies happened all the time, but when she added the final detail, your stomach twisted painfully.

“he was on his way to his wedding,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

the words hit you like

“prep the OR,” you said firmly, already moving. “i’ll be on my way.”

the words hit you like a truck, but you didn’t let it show. you pushed the memories down, shoving them into the mental box you had built for moments like this.

there was no time to think, no time to feel.

the operating room was a blur of activity when you arrived, the team already scrubbing in and preparing the patient. you quickly donned yours, hands moving with practised precision even as your mind raced.

the man on the table looked young, too young to be fighting for his life. his face was pale, his breathing shallow and the monitors surrounding him beeped erratically.

“what’s his status?” you asked, your voice calm despite the chaos around you.

“male, 31, car accident on the way to his wedding. chest trauma, ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, fractured ribs — we tried contacting other trauma surgeons, but you’re the only one available.”

you clenched your jaw, nodding as you pulled on your gloves. there was no room for hesitation now, no room for your own feelings to surface. the situation was painfully familiar, too close to home, but you buried it deep. your only focus was the man on the table, his life hanging by a thread.

you nodded, stepping into position. “scalpel.”

the surgery was gruelling. time seemed to blur as you worked, every second stretching into an eternity. the damage was extensive — a ruptured spleen, lacerations to the liver and fractures to his ribs that had caused additional complications. you moved methodically, your hands steady even as sweat trickled down your temple.

“suction,” you said, your voice steady despite the pressure.

the nurse complied and you continued, carefully navigating the delicate web of organs and tissues.

“laceration to the liver,” you muttered, leaning closer. “clamp here. we need to stop this before we lose him.”

time blurred as you worked, every movement calculated, every decision critical. the fractures in his ribs had caused additional internal damage, complicating an already precarious situation.

“keep the suction steady,” you said, glancing at the anaesthesiologist. “how’s he holding up?”

“stable for now,” came the reply, though the tension in the room didn’t ease.

the hours dragged on, your focus unwavering even as exhaustion began to creep in. piece by piece, you repaired the damage.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the monitors began to steady. “his vitals are improving,” one of the nurses announced, relief evident in her voice.

“he’s going to make it,” you stepped back, your hands trembling slightly as you removed the gloves.

the team around you exhaled collectively, and a few murmured congratulations filled the room. but you didn’t feel triumphant — just drained.

you barely made it outside before pulling out a cigarette, your hands still shaking from the adrenaline. the first drag burned your throat, but the sting was grounding, pulling you back into yourself.

leaning against the hospital’s garden wall, you stared blankly at the stick in your hand.

the man’s story, on his way to his wedding, was too close to home. it dug up memories you’d spent years trying to bury.

the cigarette fell from your hand as the first sob escaped your lips, your shoulders trembling under the weight of three years’ worth of suppressed grief — fingers curling into fists, nails digging into your palms as your breath hitched.

the memories came in waves, unrelenting. you’d spent three years holding it all back: every ounce of heartbreak, every pang of humiliation, every question that would never be answered.

but tonight, the dam finally broke.

you thought about the way you stood there, waiting, believing with everything in you that she would show up. the way you smiled nervously at your parents, at hers, then to the guests who had all gathered to celebrate something that wasn’t real anymore.

the embarrassment, the pitying glances, the murmured apologies you had given when it wasn’t your fault — it all came rushing back, every detail sharper than it had been in years.

the door to the garden creaked open behind you, and you stiffened, trying to choke back the sounds of your crying. you didn’t want anyone to see you like this but the footsteps were soft, familiar and you knew who it was before you even looked up.

jimin.

she approached slowly, her shoes crunching lightly on the gravel. she didn’t say anything at first, just stopped a few feet away, her presence warm and steady. you didn’t look up nor acknowledged her, but you didn’t have to. she came closer, lowering herself to sit beside you on the bench.

at first, she didn’t touch you. she gave you space, her hands resting in her lap as she watched you silently. but when your sobs grew louder, your shoulders trembling uncontrollably, she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you.

she had seen you leave the hospital, your steps hurried and your shoulders hunched as if you were carrying something too heavy for anyone to bear. she had followed, keeping her distance, not wanting to intrude but unable to let you be alone in whatever you were carrying.

“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steady and grounding. “let it out. i’m here.”

she’d never seen you like this. not even on that day three years ago. back then, you held yourself together, a picture of forced composure that betrayed none of what you were feeling.

you leaned into her without thinking, her warmth a comfort you hadn’t realised you needed. she wrapped her arms around you as the tears kept coming, her presence anchouring you in a way that words couldn’t.

she held you tightly, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back, the other resting against your head. she didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. she just let you fall apart.

it felt like hours passed before your sobs began to subside, your breathing slowing into uneven gasps. you pulled back slightly, wiping at your face with trembling hands.

you didn’t dare look at her, too ashamed of your outburst.

“why do you do this?” you finally said, your voice hoarse and broken.

jimin frowned, tilting her head. “do what?”

“this,” you said, gesturing weakly between the two of you. “why do you keep doing all these nice things for me? why do you care so much?”

her expression softened, but before she could answer, you kept going, your voice rising with frustration — not at her, but at yourself.

“i’m…fucking look at me, i’m damaged goods, jimin. she left me for a reason and that’s because i wasn’t enough for her. and if i wasn’t enough for her, how the hell could i ever be enough for you?”

she opened her mouth to speak, but you pressed on, the words pouring out of you like a dam had broken.

“you should be with someone who has their shit together, someone who isn’t this broken mess. i don’t need fixing and i sure as hell don’t want fixing. i’m not your project, jimin. i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you.”

the silence that followed felt deafening. your chest heaved, the weight of your own words leaving you feeling exposed and raw. you kept your eyes on the ground, unable to face her.

then, slowly, she reached out, fingers brushing against your cheek and cupped your face in her hands, her touch gentle but firm. she tilted your head up, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes were glassy, tears brimming at the edges but her expression was steady.

“y/n,” her soft voice was shaking slightly but full of conviction. “you don’t get to decide what i feel. and you don’t get to tell me what you deserve because i’ve already decided what you deserve. and that’s everything.

you blinked, stunned into silence as she continued.

“i love you,” she said, the words slipping out with a raw honesty that made your chest tighten. “i love you. not because you’re perfect, not because you’re some project i want to fix. i love you because you’re you.”

her thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks, her voice breaking as she went on. “you’re messy. you’re stubborn. you push people away because you’re scared, and you think it’s easier to be alone. but you’re also kind and strong and you care so much that it hurts you. and i love all of it. all of you.”

your breath hitched, your heart pounding as her words settled over you. “jimin, i —”

“no,” she interrupted gently, shaking her head. “let me finish. i know you don’t believe me right now. i know you don’t feel like you’re enough. but you are. to me, you are.”

her voice cracked again as she took a deep breath to steady herself. “and even if you can’t see it yet, i’ll wait. i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to realise that you are enough. that you’ve always been enough.”

tears blurred your vision again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. you stared at her, unable to find the words, the weight of her confession leaving you breathless.

“jimin,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling. “i don’t know if i can —”

“you don’t have to,” she said softly, her hands still cradling your face. “not right now. not until you’re ready. but just…let me stay. let me be here for you. that’s all i’m asking.”

you nodded, the smallest of movements, but it was enough. she pulled you into her arms again, holding you tightly as your tears began to fall once more…not from grief, but from the overwhelming relief of not being alone anymore.

perhaps you didn’t have to carry everything on your own anymore.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the tiny apartment in lisbon was quiet, save for the distant sound of street vendors calling out to evening crowds.

minjeong sat cross-legged on the worn wooden floor, her back leaning against the peeling wall. the room was sparse; just a bed, a suitcase, and a second-hand lamp casting a dim glow. this was her life now, moving from one place to the next, never staying long enough to plant roots.

it had been three years since she left.

three years of running, of trying to escape the shadow of the person she used to be. it hadn’t worked. no matter where she went, the memories followed her, clinging to her like smoke.

she thought back to the day she ran away with mingyu. she still didn’t understand why she had done it. it felt like rebellion; breaking free from the cage of her life. he had offered her a way out, a chance to escape the constant grind of fame, the suffocating expectations of being winter of aespa. in her desperation, she’d taken it without thinking.

it had been a mistake — the worst one of her life.

two weeks. that was all it took for everything to fall apart. he wasn’t the solution to her problems; he was just another lost soul trying to fill his own emptiness. they argued constantly, their personalities clashing until every word between them felt like a fight.

the final straw had been a shouting match in a dingy motel room somewhere in melbourne. she packed her bag that night and walked away, leaving him without a goodbye.

but leaving him didn’t fix anything. the damage was already done.

minjeong had spent the next three years living like a ghost, drifting from one country to another, working odd jobs to make ends meet. she cleaned houses in barcelona, waited tables in florence and even worked as a gardener in interlaken. she learned to enjoy the simplicity of it all — the routine of making her own meals, the anonymity of blending into crowds.

for the first time in her life, she wasn’t winter; the idol. she was just minjeong, a girl trying to figure out who she was.

the solitude changed her. she learned to live without the luxury she took for granted, without the constant validation of fans or the adoration of the public. it was hard, but it forced her to confront herself, to look at the mess she had made and start picking up the pieces.

but no matter how much she grew, no matter how much she tried to move on, there was one thing she couldn’t escape: you.

you had been the best thing that ever happened to her. she didn’t deserve you, not then and certainly not now. but you had loved her anyway, in a way that no one else ever had.

when the pressure of fame had weighed her down, when she felt like she was suffocating under the expectations of the world, you had been her lifeline.

she thought about the nights you stayed up with her, holding her close when the world felt too big. she remembered the way you would look at her, like she was more than the perfect image she tried so hard to maintain.

you saw her; the messy, flawed, human version of her…and you loved her anyway.

you had saved her when she was drowning. and how did she repay you? by leaving. by walking away on your wedding day, the day she should have promised herself to you forever.

she thought she was sparing you the burden of her brokenness, but all she did was break you too.

she thought about aespa too. they had been her sisters. she had abandoned them without a word, leaving them to pick up the pieces of her absence. she often found herself scrolling through their social media profiles, her heart aching at the sight of aeri and yizhuo laughing together or jimin’s rare selfies.

but it was jimin’s posts that hurt the most.

jimin had been her best friend, the one who knew her better than anyone else. now, her life seemed to revolve around you. her posts were filled with snapshots of dinners, quiet moments and candid photos of you that made minjeong’s chest tighten.

you were still beautiful, even more so than she remembered. but there was something different about you now — an air of weariness and guardedness that hadn’t been there before.

she knew she was responsible for that, and it tore her apart.

the breaking point came one quiet afternoon. she was scrolling through her phone, her thumb idly swiping through posts, when an article caught her eye.

“aespa’s karina opens up about her romantic life: ‘we’re taking things slow, but it’s happening.’”

her breath hitched as she clicked the link, her heart pounding. the article detailed jimin’s recent interview, where she had spoken openly about someone she’d been seeing.

“i’ve been spending a lot of time with someone who means a lot to me,” she had said. “we’re working our way through things in a romantic setting, but very slowly. there’s a lot of healing involved for both of us. but…i’m happy. she’s worth it.”

the accompanying photo was of jimin and you, leaving a restaurant together. her hand rested lightly on your back, her expression soft, almost protective. you looked relaxed, even happy, but there was still a shadow of something unreadable in your eyes.

minjeong stared at the photo for a long time, her chest tight. jimin’s words echoed in her mind: “she’s worth it.”

she closed her phone and sat in silence, her hands trembling. the reality of what she lost hit her all at once — not just you, but the life you could have had together.

and now, jimin was stepping into the space she had abandoned.

that night, she booked a plane ticket to seoul.

it wasn’t a decision made lightly, but she couldn’t stay away any longer.

she needed to apologise; to you, her family, to everyone she had hurt. she didn’t know if you would forgive her, but she had to try.

no matter how much time had passed, one thing remained true: you were her soulmate. and she wasn’t ready to give up on you, not yet.

“minjeong?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

[demonic0angel]

Jason has to be cursed. For weeks now, he's been trying to set up a cute met with a pretty girl he met as Red Hood. Every attempt has had something go wrong, from his bike getting a flat tire to missing her at her favorite coffee shop by a few minutes.

The Dannies are livid. Some creep is trying to firt with their sister. Their doing everything they can to keep him away from her.

Jason groaned. Another coffee spilled on him. He didn't even know how it happened. His hand just seemed to move on its own and pour his coffee all over himself. Thank goodness he had made sure his coffee was cool before he started drinking, since this had been happening all too often.

He glared at his feet, ignoring the glances he received at the coffee that was staining his clothes.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and then started walking to the beautiful girl he saw again.

He didn't know much about her. Only that she liked her drinks milky but not too sweet, she liked her pastries to be warm and chocolatey, she read nonfiction books at the cafe (like an adorable psychopath), she listened to a variety of music like classical and pop, and she was tall, kind, beautiful, and was named Jazz.

He probably could've found more if he wanted, but then where was the thrill? He wanted to know her personally, hearing about her from her own lips.

He was quickly thrown out of his thoughts when something tripped him and he slammed head first into a pole. He yelped, dropping to his knees as he cringed away from the sudden ringing pain on his forehead. Something slick began to drip down his face and Jason cursed, gingerly touching his forehead, where the pole had split open his skin.

There were cries of panic all around but no one helped. Jason grit his teeth, struggling to get up as his vision spun and his face flushed with heat and embarrassment.

"You there! Call the ambulance, please! Sir, are you alright?" An angelic voice asked. Something knelt before him, dark jeans and long, red hair scattering over the ground before hands gently reached for him.

Jason blinked and stared at Jazz, who was smiling at him kindly. "Will you let me help you?" She asked sweetly, her voice like a heavenly choir.

Jason turned red again and nodded. She gently patted the blood away with a couple of napkins from her purse and as the crowd lingered around and murmured, she asked, "Do you want to go to the hospital? Or is somewhere else fine? Will you be okay with going to my apartment? I have medical supplies there, since I'm a somewhat of a doctor."

"Your apartment, please," Jason breathed, suddenly feeling like god was taking pity on him and finally showing him some blessings.

Jazz smiled at him and said, "Okay. C'mon, I'll help you there." She talked a little more to the crowd, something about canceling the ambulance and thanking them for help and asking them to move on. There were several people who praised her and a lot of people lingered, but they all moved to the side like a parted sea as Jazz helped Jason to his feet and steadied him.

God, she was so fucking cool. Jason almost wanted to cry. His head still hurt, but Jazz was pressed against him and now he was able to go to her apartment and hopefully, he could ask her out now.

Yes, everything was perfect.

Danny, who was being glared into submission by Jazz over Jason's shoulder, winced and tried not to look at Jason's bleeding (but also annoyingly blissful) face as he floated behind the two.

Damn it all. Everything was ruined.

[lechrts]

Hiiiii! i was so obsessed with your lando cooking one but i have another idea kinda where’s its a little similar but reader is his private chef or something ??? Plz i love you’re writing so much 🥰

Stay With Me. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Privatechef!reader

Summary: When he finally musters the courage to talk to his private chef and eventually invite her to stay for dinner.

Word Count: 2.3k

Disclaimer/s: flufffff :3 meet cute ,, ish??? and forced proximity almost (not at all) Just Squint idk

Vera’s Voice! LOVE THIS REQUEST AYYEEE , hope u enjoy!!!! thank u for reading my fics!!! mwaaahhh

Lando never thought he’d end up with a private chef.

The idea sounded unnecessarily extravagant when his management first proposed it. He wasn’t a picky eater, and takeout worked just fine. But after months of rigorous travel, racing every other weekend, and well… his need to somehow always mention the disgusting food pile in his pantry on live streams… his team insisted on the idea.

It wasn’t about luxury, they claimed—it was about nutrition, recovery, and convenience. Lando reluctantly agreed, figuring it would be just another stranger in his house.

And that’s exactly what you were.

The first time you arrived, Lando only caught a glimpse of you—a short, polite nod as you introduced yourself by name.

You didn’t linger. No small talk, no unnecessary pleasantries. You brought bags of fresh groceries, prepared everything with quiet efficiency, and left him with neatly plated meals stored in his fridge.

And this routine went on for weeks.

Lando grew used to hearing the door click open mid-afternoon, a soft shuffle of feet in his kitchen as you unpacked your things.

He kept his distance, a little unsure of how to approach you. You worked so intently that he didn’t want to interrupt, and honestly, he didn’t know what to say.

So, he settled for his usual routine: nodding, mumbling a quick thanks, and letting you go about your work.

But as the weeks passed, he found himself oddly intrigued.

He noticed how precise your movements were—the way you diced vegetables or measured out spices. He caught whiffs of garlic and herbs wafting through the house, making his mouth water.

Once, he saw you pause by the stove to taste a sauce, your face lighting up with the faintest hint of a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to pique his curiosity.

He wanted to know more about you.

It wasn’t until a quiet Tuesday afternoon that Lando finally mustered the courage to do something about it.

You’d just arrived, placing your bags on the kitchen counter and rolling up your sleeves. Lando was sitting on the couch, his laptop open in front of him, pretending to be preoccupied.

But he wasn’t working.

He was watching you out of the corner of his eye, nervously tapping his fingers against the keyboard.

Finally, he took a deep breath, stood up, and walked over.

“Hey,” He said, voice a little shaky.

You turned, startled. “Oh. Hi.”

Your voice was soft but firm, and your eyes quickly darted back to the chopping board as if you didn’t want to intrude.

Lando scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of himself. “I was, uh, wondering…” He hesitated. “Do you ever get to eat what you make?”

You blinked, genuinely surprised by the question. “Not usually,” You admitted. “I just cook for you.”

“Oh.” He shifted on his feet, feeling a bit awkward. “Well, that doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into the faintest smile. “I don’t mind.”

Lando cleared his throat. “Still, you’ve been cooking for me for weeks, and I don’t even know if you think it tastes good.”

You laughed at that, a quiet, melodic sound that made Lando’s chest feel a little lighter. “I taste as I go. You haven’t complained, so I assumed all was fine.”

“It’s more than fine,” He said quickly, then winced, realizing how eager he sounded. “I mean, it’s really good. Like… amazing.”

“Thank you.” Your cheeks flushed a faint pink, glancing back down at the cutting board to hide your sudden blush.

Lando watched you for a moment, then blurted, “Can I help?”

You froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You want to help?”

“Yeah,” He said, trying to sound casual. “I feel bad just sitting around while you do all the work.”

Your lips twitched, almost as if you were holding back a laugh. “Well that’s technically what I get paid for…so..”

“Well, I don’t mind lending a hand..” He stepped closer.

“Um.. Alright,” You said slowly. “But I don’t think I can trust you near a stove from what your management told me, so how about slicing and dicing?“

“Sounds good.” He flashed a smile, quickly coming to your aid.

And Lando wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help, but you quickly realized he was hopeless in the kitchen.

He now stood next to you, an apron tied loosely around his waist (as he insisted to feel official), struggling to peel a carrot. His grip was awkward, and the peels kept getting stuck in the blade.

“Like this,” You said, stepping closer and wrapping your hand around his to guide him.

Lando froze at the contact, his pulse quickening. Your hand was warm against his, and for a moment, all he could focus on was the soft scent of your vanilla shampoo and the gentle lilt of your voice as you explained the technique.

“There,” You said, releasing his hand. “Try now.”

He nodded, a little dazed, and attempted to mimic your movements. The carrot peeled more smoothly this time, though not without a few mishaps.

“You’re a pro.” You complimented, earning a wide smile from him as he continued.

Lando watched you, his confidence growing with each little laugh he managed to pull from you.

The atmosphere felt easy now, the awkwardness from before fading into something warmer. He grabbed another carrot and set to work, determined to keep up with you.

As the meal came together, the smells filling the kitchen made his stomach growl audibly.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” He admitted.

You flashed him a smile before you mindlessly tidied around the kitchen, thankfully washing dishes as you cooked. You made sure to plate his food, sliding a portion toward him as usual.

But before you could reach for your bag and finish cleaning up, Lando hesitated, leaning against the counter.

“Wait,” He said suddenly.

You paused, glancing at him. “Hm?”

“Stay with me.” Lando said almost too eagerly, quickly catching himself before stuttering. “Like stay for dinner.”

You felt your eyes widen at the offer, your heart skipping a beat. “Oh, I don’t usually—” Your voice started, but he cut you off, his words tumbling out in a rush.

“I insist.” He smiled before shifting on his feet, suddenly shy. “You’re always here, making these amazing meals, but you never eat them. It feels wrong. Like… you deserve to enjoy this too.”

You hesitated.

The idea of sitting down to dinner with him felt… different. But there was something in the way he looked at you—hopeful, genuine—that made it impossible to say no.

“Um.. Okay,” You said softly, nodding as you set your bag back down.

Lando’s face lit up, and he immediately set about pulling plates from the cabinet, his excitement almost contagious.

And it was… nice.

You sat across from each other at the small dining table, sharing the meal you’d just prepared—a hearty steak, (opposed to the salmon you were incredible at making but you were instructed to never prepare him seafood), roasted vegetables, and a side of creamy mash. It wasn’t anything overly fancy, but it was perfect, and Lando couldn’t stop himself from saying so.

“You’re too kind,” You said, your tone teasing.

“I’m serious!” He insisted. “I don’t know how you make the vegetables taste this good. It’s like magic or something.”

You laughed again, a little less reserved this time. “No magic. Just practice.”

You talked as you ate, the conversation flowing easier than Lando expected. He learned that you’d gone to culinary school, that you loved experimenting with new recipes, and that you preferred baking to cooking.

And to his surprise, you were extremely funny, with a dry sense of humor that caught him off guard.

“I’ll need to try your pastries one day then?” He said with a quirked brow as you shook your head.

“Unfortunately, not on the nutrition plan your management gave me.” You bit down a laugh.

“One cheat day won’t hurt…” He pushed for it.

You sheepishly shrugged. “I’ll consider.” Another laugh escaping your lips as he let out a stupid groan with a roll in his eyes.

And, for the first time, Lando felt like he really saw you—not just as the chef who came and went, but as someone he genuinely wanted to know.

When the meal was finally over, you started to stand, reaching for the dishes, but Lando stopped you.

“I’ll take care of it,” He said.

Your brow furrowed. “But—”

“You cooked. I’ll clean. That’s the deal now.”

You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay… Thanks.”

Soon, you grabbed your bag to leave, Lando walking you to the door, feeling an odd pang of disappointment as you stepped outside.

“Same time tomorrow then?” You asked, glancing back at him.

Lando grinned. “Only if you’re eating with me again.”

Your smile widened, and for the first time, you didn’t look like you were in a hurry to leave.

“Deal,” You tried to hide your excitement.

“Goodnight.” He smiled.

“Goodnight.”

And as you walked off while he closed the door, Lando was already looking forward to tomorrow.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!! ^_^ and please lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tags list :D

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

[revelboo]

heyhey, just popping in to say your fics have me in a chokehold its all i can think about for the past few weeks your writing is so scrumptious tho the rate at which you're pumping these out like clockwork is a tad concerning remember to plz take care of yourself babe

Thanks! I just write these for fun when I’m bored- with my attention span, I’m bored more often than not unless I’m actively engaged with something

Even if It Kills Me Pt 11

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Stepping into his quarters with the mini-cons in tow, it’s the silence that has him rocking to a stop. Makes his spark constrict painfully. Because you always greet him without fail when he returns, smiling and cheery. Wings flicking slightly, he approaches your little nest where he’d left you and finds you still curled up in your blankets. A vague fear clawing at him until you finally move and he relaxes. Watching Runway dive in with you and the way your head sluggishly lifts to look. “Hey.” Voice softer and huskier than he’s used to, he frowns when Runway nudges you and you still don’t get up. And you make a sharp sound and cover your nose and mouth, groaning.

• “Are you malfunctioning?” He growls as you sniffle and you suppose that’s a good enough word for it. Almost positive you somehow have the flu even though you haven’t been around any other humans to catch it. Watching his wings flick restlessly before he kneels and hesitantly touches a servo to your neck. “You’re warmer than normal. And damper,” he adds, lip curling and you laugh despite feeling awful.

• “I’m sweating because I’m running a fever. It’s fine,” you say, laughing at him. Fever? Doesn’t look like it’s fine as you tug a blanket over your head and make that sound again, entire fragile frame jerking with it to make him stiffen. Not liking this at all. You’re his to care for, but if you have some sort of illness, you need a medic. Feeling inadequate, he tugs the blanket away and you toss an arm over your face like the lights are too bright. Anxiety humming through him, he hates this. Knowing something’s wrong and being helpless to do anything about it.

• “How do I fix you?” Peeking at him, head pounding, his serious expression is too sweet. But of course he doesn’t understand that you can’t just be fixed, that it just has to run its course. But that he cares enough to want to help means a lot. Do giant alien robots even get sick? Or does he just assume you’re broken somehow? “What do you need?” Deep voice somber and worried, you sigh and immediately sneeze again. You’d love some soup and ginger ale, but you’re not about to sic your big, alien roomie on the first store he sees to get them. Can just see him tearing down a wall and reaching in to grab what he wants. Nope.

• “I just need to sleep it off. Really. I’m sure it’s not that bad.” It sounds bad. Venting softly, he sits in the floor with you and flexes his servos. Aware of his mini-cons staring at him expectantly. Like he should know how to make this better. And the way you’d said that hadn’t sounded that confident. What if it is that bad? Wings lifting slightly as you make a different, harsher sound that sets his denta on edge, he reaches and runs servo against your spine until the fit passes. And then keeps stroking you because you arch into his touch like you enjoy it. Maybe the human kids know how to fix this?

Previous

[jburrgf]

About you ||| — The Love Trope Series.

“Do you think I have forgotten about you?”

• pairing: ¡lsu!joe burrow x ¡ex situashionship!reader

° summary: second change trope, college relationships, slow burn love, right person wrong time.

o description: you and joe had a thing months before, but the things ended in a bad way. now, you see yourself stuck in something that requires you to be close to him every single day.

• playlist: About You - The 1975, Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Golding, Like Real People Do - Hoozier, I Bet You Think About Me - Taylor Swift, Called You Again - Lizzy McAlpine, Tolerate It, ImGonnaGetYouBack, Clean - Taylor Swift

PART THREE: I BET YOU THINK ABOUT ME

The fluorescent lights in the classroom buzzed faintly as I slipped into my seat at the back of the room, pulling my hoodie tighter around me, hoping to disappear into the fabric. Mondays were bad enough, but after the party on Saturday, the mere thought of facing the day made me want to crawl back under the covers and stay there.

Especially now, with the nagging suspicion that my life was about to take another unpredictable turn.

The group of students gathered for Media Strategies in Sports was small, a core requirement for my degree, and one of the few that worked directly with LSU’s athletic department. Normally, I loved it—brainstorming campaigns, creating social media content, and pitching ideas to actual professionals. But today, the room felt stifling, like the walls were closing in.

I sank lower into my seat, Maddie, seated beside me, shot me a knowing look.

“Morning, sunshine,” Maddie chirped, sliding into the chair beside me with her usual energy that somehow thrived even at 8 a.m.

I grunted in response, burying my face in the collar of my hoodie.

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad,” she teased, nudging my arm. “You left before anything interesting happened.”

I shot her a glare, and she held up her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. “You’re being dramatic,” she whispered, nudging me with her elbow.

“I’m being cautious,” I muttered, keeping my voice low.

Professor Reynolds entered the room, a stack of papers tucked under his arm. He was a tall, wiry man with a gruff demeanor, but he loved his job. This class was his pride and joy, a hybrid course designed to give students real-world experience working with the university’s rising athletes

The professor, Dr. Reynolds, stood at the front of the room, a stack of papers in his hands and an overly chipper demeanor that felt out of place this early in the week. “Alright, class,” he began, his voice cutting through the low hum of chatter. “As you all know, this semester we’re diving into a hands-on project with the athletic department. Each of you will be paired with an up-and-coming athlete to develop a personalized media strategy. This is a big opportunity—LSU takes its athletics seriously, and these athletes are the faces of the future.”

I already hated this.

“Pairs will be assigned at random,” Reynolds continued, adjusting his glasses. “These are some of LSU’s rising stars, and this is your chance to prove you can handle the pressure.”

Dr. Reynolds began reading off the pairings, his voice steady and matter-of-fact.

“Anna, you’ll be working with Derek Stingley Jr. Jamie, you’ve got Clyde Edwards-Helaire…”

The names blurred together as I stared at my notebook, pretending to take notes. Maybe, just maybe, I’d luck out and get someone I could handle—a name I barely recognized, someone who wouldn’t make me feel like the walls were closing in.

“Justin Jefferson,” Dr. Collins called, glancing up. “Maddie Carter.”

Maddie lit up like a Christmas tree, her grin practically splitting her face. She turned to me, barely able to contain her excitement. “Oh my God, Y/N. Justin Jefferson. Can you believe it?”

“Lucky you,” I said flatly, my heart sinking further.

She didn’t notice, too busy already envisioning her project.

“Y/N L/N,” Professor Hart continued, scanning his list. “You’ll be working with Joe Burrow.”

I didn’t respond, hoping for some kind of cosmic intervention. Reynolds’s gaze found me anyway, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at me.

“Joe Burrow.”

My blood ran cold.

Maddie audibly gasped beside me, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her reaction. I couldn’t even look at her. Instead, I ducked lower into my hoodie, practically melting into my chair.

My heart plummeted.

Maddie turned to me, her eyes wide. “Oh no.”

The words hit me like a freight train, and my body instinctively tensed. My heart sank, my pulse quickening as the room seemed to close in around me.

I slid further into my hoodie, wishing the fabric could swallow me whole.

“Of all the people,” I muttered, my voice muffled.

I didn’t respond, instead pulling my hoodie up over my head and practically disappearing into the fabric. My face burned as the rest of the class murmured, a few curious glances thrown my way.

Maddie leaned closer, her voice low. “Y/N, this is fine. It’s fine. You can handle this.”

I peeked out from the safety of my hoodie, glaring at her. “This is not fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re overreacting. It’s just Joe.”

“Exactly,” I hissed. “It’s Joe.”

Before she could respond, Dr. Reynolds clapped his hands together, pulling the class’s attention back to him. “Remember, this project is about collaboration. You’ll be working closely with your athlete all semester, so make sure to establish good communication from the start. Now, if there are no questions, class is dismissed.”

I stayed rooted in my seat as everyone began gathering their things, my mind racing. There was no way I could do this.

Maddie stood and slung her bag over her shoulder, leaning down to whisper, “Go talk to him. Maybe he’ll switch you with someone.”

“That’s the plan,” I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

I shot her a point and Maddie shrugged. I waited until the room had cleared out, then made my way to the front where Dr. Reynolds was organizing his notes.

“Professor?” I said hesitantly.

He looked up, offering a kind smile. “Yes, Y/N?”

I shifted awkwardly, clutching my notebook to my chest. “About the project… I was wondering if there was any chance I could switch partners.”

His brow furrowed, and he set his papers down. “Switch partners? Is there a specific reason why?”

I hesitated, my mind scrambling for a professional-sounding excuse. “I just think… maybe someone else would be a better fit. Joe and I… we don’t really have a lot in common, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to… um, connect with him the way someone else might.”

Dr. Reynolds studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Y/N, part of this project is about stepping outside your comfort zone. Learning to work with different personalities is a crucial skill in this field. Joe Burrow is one of the most promising athletes at LSU right now, and I believe you’re more than capable of handling this assignment.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand. “I understand this might feel challenging, but I’m confident it’ll be a valuable experience for you. Give it a shot, and if there are any real issues, we can revisit this conversation later in the semester.”

“Right,” I said weakly. “Of course.”

“Besides,” he added with a small smile, “working with someone like Joe is an incredible opportunity. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

I forced a tight smile, nodding as I backed toward the door. “Thanks, Dr. Reynolds. I’ll, uh, do my best.”

As I turned to leave, Maddie was waiting just outside the door, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face.

“Well?” she asked.

“No luck,” I grumbled, pulling my hoodie back up.

She shrugged, looping her arm through mine as we walked down the hallway. “See? The universe wants you two to work this out.”

I groaned, leaning my head against her shoulder. “You’re not helping.”

She laughed, giviI glared at her. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” she replied, linking her arm through mine as we started walking. “Come on, Y/N. You’ll survive. He’s just a guy. A very cute guy who just so happens to be your ex, but still—just a guy.”

But as we walked across campus, her words felt far from reassuring. Because deep down, I knew this wasn’t just about the project—or about Joe. It was about the way he still made me feel, no matter how hard I tried to forget.

“You’ll thank me later.”

I groaned, pressing my hands to my face. “Why do I feel like this is going to be a disaster?”

“Because you’re overthinking it,” she said, looping her arm through mine. “Come on. Let’s grab lunch. You’re gonna crush this project, and if he tries to make it weird, I’ll personally set Justin Jefferson on him.”

Despite myself, I laughed. Maddie always had a way of making things feel just a little bit lighter.

But as we walked out of the building, I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in my chest. Joe Burrow wasn’t just any project partner. And no matter how much Maddie tried to convince me otherwise, I knew this was going to be anything but simple.

“When are you guys going to meet?” Maddie asked me, walking by my side down the streets of the campus. We were doing our way to Malone’s.

“Probably still this week. Joe has the hardest schedule, but I know he has some free days this week. I kinda Remember.”

Maddie gave me a quick look, but she didn’t say a word. And it was ok, cause I know her enough to know what 's going on in her mind. And it was the same way with her: she knew what was going on my mind right now.

"You are not going to do that," she told me, as if her demand would change something I had already decided in my mind.

I didn’t answer, my mind already spinning with ideas to get out of this. There had to be a way to switch partners. Maybe Jamar could help me—he was Joe’s best friend, and I’d worked with him before — kinda met him when I was with Joe. He was always good at reading Burrow, especially. Maybe, just maybe, he’d pull some strings for me, cause I know that half of the girls from my class would kill to be paired with Joseph Lee Burrow.

I pulled out my phone, dialing Jamar’s number quickly. The phone rang once, twice...

“Yo, Y/N, what’s up?” Jamar’s voice came through the speaker, relaxed but friendly.

“Hey, Jamar,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling the anxiety creep in. “Look, I need a huge favor. You know that media project for class, right?”

“Yeah, I’m in that class too. You got paired up with someone tough?” He asked me. ��I wasn’t in the class today, got early practice this morning.”

“Well,” I hesitated, glancing over at Maddie who was watching me curiously, “I got paired with Joe.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and then Jamar laughed. “Oh, man. That’s gonna be fun.”

I didn’t share his enthusiasm. “I don’t want to work with him, Jamar. It’s... it’s complicated, you know? Any chance you can make a switch for me? Just... I don’t know, talk to the professor or someone? Talk to the girl that got you!”

Maddie, still walking beside me, leaned in with a mischievous grin. “You’re not seriously asking Jamar to pull strings, are you?”

I shot her a glare, but she just laughed, clearly knowing what I was about to do.

On the phone, Jamar chuckled again. “I get it, I get it. But nah, I can’t really do that. You two gotta work it out. Besides, Joe’s a good dude. You’ll be fine.”

I felt my shoulders slump. “You’re not helping here, Jamar.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve got this,” he replied, his tone warm but firm. “But you’ll need to face it at some point, right? Might as well be now.”

I groaned, my frustration mounting. “You’re all against me, huh?”

“Not against you, just keeping it real,” Jamar said, laughing lightly. “But look, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll have some good stories to tell after, right?”

I wasn’t ready to accept that yet, but before I could say anything else, Maddie swiped the phone from my hand, holding it to her ear before I could protest.

“Chase! It’s Maddie. We’re going to Malone’s now, you in?” she said, all casual and confident.

“Maddie!” I protested, grabbing at her, but she pulled the phone further from me.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You need to face Joe,” Maddie continued to Jamar, ignoring my complaints. “We’re going to make sure you do, and I’ll be there to back you up. You’ll be fine.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Maddie just gave me that look—the one that told me she wasn’t about to let me off the hook.

Jamar’s voice came through the phone again. “Malone’s, huh? Yeah, sure, I’ll swing by. Should be a good time.”

Maddie grinned at me. “See? Jamar’s in. Now you just have to deal with the whole Joe thing, and we’ll all go get a drink. It’ll be a good distraction. You’re welcome.”

I sighed, defeated, knowing she was right. There was no avoiding Joe, and it seemed like I wasn’t going to get out of this project. “Fine,” I muttered, sinking into the nearest bench. “But you’re buying me a drink tonight, Maddie. I’m gonna need it.”

Maddie smiled, her arm linking through mine. “Deal. But remember, you’re facing your ex like an adult. No running away this time.”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no escaping it now. "You’re relentless, you know that?"

She just winked. "That’s why you love me."

[…]

The atmosphere at Malone’s was a mix of low chatter, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was the kind of place where everyone on campus went to blow off steam, whether it was for a burger or a beer. Maddie, Jamar, and I had been sitting at one of the wooden booths for over an hour, nursing drinks and nibbling on fries while we talked about the media class project.

Jamar had been surprisingly helpful, giving me tips on how to navigate the project with Joe—though he seemed to enjoy teasing me about it at every opportunity. Maddie, as always, was in her element, sipping on her drink and chiming in with her unsolicited (but not entirely unwelcome) advice.

“I’m just saying,” Jamar said, leaning back in his chair. “Joe’s not that bad to work with. Once you get past his, you know... personality.”

I shot him a look. “Oh, you mean his stubbornness? His perfectionism? His tendency to completely ignore other people’s input?”

Jamar grinned. “Exactly.”

Before I could retort, the door swung open, and in walked Justin Jefferson. His easy confidence turned a few heads as he made his way toward our table, spotting us immediately.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is," Jamar greeted, sliding over to make room for him. "What’s up, Justin?"

Justin slid into the seat directly across from Maddie, his eyes flicking to her before settling on the rest of us.“Not much. Just got out of a meeting with Coach. You know how it is." Justin said, His eyes flicked to her drink. “You already started without me?”

Maddie smirked, raising her glass. “You’re late. That’s on you.”

Justin chuckled, settling in as if he’d been there the whole time.

Maddie perked up immediately, smiling at Justin as if the rest of us had disappeared. "Hey, did you see the assignment? I got paired with you for the project."

Justin leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Yeah, I saw that. Guess we’ll be spending a lot of time together, huh?" His tone was casual, but the way he looked at Maddie made it clear he wasn’t just talking about work.

I couldn’t help but smile a little at their interaction. It was nice to see Maddie’s confidence in action, even if I wanted to shrink into my hoodie at the mere thought of working with Joe.

Justin turned his attention to me after a moment, his eyebrows raising. "So, who’d you get stuck with, Y/N?"

I hesitated, glancing at Maddie and Jamar for support. Maddie was quick to jump in. "She got Joe," she said with a grin, as if this were the most entertaining development of her week.

Justin’s eyes widened slightly, his smile turning into something more curious. "Wait, Joe Joe? As in, Joe Burrow? Your Joe Burrow? Didn’t you two have a thing?”

“He’s not my Joe,” I said quickly, my face heating up.

Jamar chuckled, and Maddie smirked into her drink, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

“It was a long time ago,” I muttered, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

Justin leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. “Man, this just keeps getting better.”

“Look,” Jamar said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m just saying, if you don’t want to work with Joe, you better have a solid plan. Dude’s serious about this stuff when it comes to football, and he’s not gonna let you off easy.”

I groaned, stirring my drink with the straw. “It’s not about him being serious. It’s about—”

“History,” Maddie interrupted with a sly smirk. “We all know the elephant in the room.”

I shot her a glare, but Jamar chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. History aside, you’ll be fine. Just keep it professional. Joe’s not the type to hold grudges.”

Before I could come up with a response, Jamar’s phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, his face lighting up when he saw the name on the screen. “Speak of the devil,” he said with a smirk. “It’s Joe,” Jamar announced, holding up the screen for us to see.

“Put it on speaker,” Justin said immediately, leaning forward with interest.

“No, don’t—” I started, but it was too late. Jamar had already hit the speaker button and placed the phone in the middle of the table.

“Yo, Joe, what’s up?” Jamar said.

“Hey, man,” Joe’s voice came through the phone, low and steady. “I just got out of practice. What’s up with this project? Do you know who I’m paired with yet?”

Maddie and Justin exchanged glances, their eyes twinkling with amusement. I sank deeper into my seat, pulling my hoodie over my head in a futile attempt to hide.

“Not yet, huh?” Jamar replied, grinning at me. “Man, you’re gonna love this one.”

Joe groaned on the other end of the line. “I swear, if it’s someone who doesn’t take this seriously, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t worry,” Jamar said, his voice full of mock reassurance. “Your partner’s... super dedicated. Really invested.”

Maddie coughed, barely stifling her laughter. Justin was no better, leaning forward with his hand over his mouth to muffle his amusement.

Joe sighed. “Great. Anyway, where are you? I’m starving.”

“We’re at Malone’s,” Jamar said casually. “You should swing by.”

There was a pause before Joe replied. “Alright, be there in ten.”

When the call ended, the table fell into a quiet buzz of excitement. Justin leaned forward, his gaze flicking between Maddie and me. “This just got a whole lot more interesting.”

I shot him a look, then turned to Maddie. “You’re not helping.”

Maddie shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I told you, you need to face him. Now’s your chance.”

I glared at Jamar. “Why did you invite him?”

“Because,” he said, leaning forward with a grin, “I live for the drama.”

Maddie nudged me. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just Joe. You’ll be fine.”

I didn’t respond, my mind racing as I tried to mentally prepare myself for what was about to happen.

A few minutes later, the door swung open again, and there he was. He looked like he’d just come from practice, a hoodie slung over his shoulders, hair slightly disheveled, but his sharp gaze swept over the room like he was always in control.

I froze in my seat, trying to shrink into the background as his eyes roamed over the tables.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Justin muttered under his breath, leaning forward with a smirk.

Jamar casually waved him over. “Yo, Joe, over here!”

Joe’s head turned toward the sound of Jamar’s voice, and then his eyes landed on me. He stopped mid-step.

He froze when he saw me.

His gaze locked with mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The noise, the people, the world—it all disappeared as we stared at each other.

Joe walked over slowly, his expression carefully neutral, but I could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes as he took the empty seat directly across from me.

“Sup,” Joe greeted. The space felt smaller now, the table between us an insignificant barrier.

“Hey, man,” Jamar said with a grin, clearly enjoying the tension that had settled over the table.

Joe’s gaze flicked briefly to Maddie, then Justin, before landing back on me. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his voice neutral, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something—surprise, maybe.

Justin, ever the instigator, wasted no time. “So, Joe, you know who your partner is for the big marketing project yet?”

Joe frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Not yet. They haven’t told me.”

“Oh, really?” Jamar said, feigning surprise. “Man, that’s weird. I thought for sure you’d know by now.”

Maddie stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. I shot her a glare, but she just winked at me.

Joe glanced at Jamar, then at Justin, and finally back at me. His expression shifted subtly, realization dawning as he pieced it together. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the rest of the table seemed to fade away.

“You’re kidding,” he said, his voice low and edged with disbelief.

I looked down at the table, suddenly fascinated by the condensation on my glass. “Nope,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Not kidding.”

Joe let out a quiet, humorless laugh, leaning back in his chair. “Of course.”

Justin chuckled, clearly enjoying the drama. “This just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Joe ignored him, his focus entirely on me. “So, it’s you,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“It’s me,” I replied, finally meeting his gaze.

The air between us felt heavy, the unspoken history lingering like a storm cloud. Maddie broke the tension with a cheerful, overly chipper tone.

“See? This will be great! You two already know each other. It’s a head start!”

Joe shot her a look, and she just shrugged innocently.

Jamar leaned forward, grinning. “Come on, Joe. Don’t look so worried. Y/N’s great to work with. She’ll probably carry you through the whole project.”

Joe didn’t respond immediately, his eyes never leaving mine. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, quieter. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

Maddie cleared her throat loudly, cutting through the tension. “Alright, this is officially too much brooding for one table. Jamar, let’s order another round, yeah?”

Joe leaned forward slightly, his attention still on me, even as Jamar and Maddie launched into a debate about appetizers. “We should figure out a schedule for the project,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“Yeah,” I replied, my throat dry.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he added, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine.”

Maddie shot him a look, then turned to Joe. “Look, it’s just a project. You’ll survive.”

Joe didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still on me. There was something in his expression I couldn’t quite place—like he was trying to figure out how to handle the situation without making it worse.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his tone resigned. “I guess we don’t have a choice.”

“Exactly,” Maddie said, her voice overly cheerful. “It’s gonna be fine. Right, Y/N?”

I forced a tight smile. “Sure. Fine.”

Joe’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he reached for the menu in front of him, clearly ready to change the subject. But the tension lingered, thick and unspoken, as we all sat there pretending this wasn’t as uncomfortable as it actually was.

Jamar, of course, seemed determined to make things worse. “Hey, Joe,” he said, grinning. “Remember that time we talked about working with people you had... history with? Funny how life works, huh?”

Joe shot him a glare, and I kicked Jamar under the table, but he just laughed, unfazed.

Joe nodded once, then glanced at Jamar. “You’re paying for my drink, by the way.”

Maddie leaned over to whisper, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” and I resisted the urge to groan.

Jamar laughed, but the awkwardness didn’t fade. I knew this project was going to be a challenge, but sitting across from Joe now, with all the unresolved tension hanging in the air, I realized just how difficult it was going to be.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The awkwardness, the stares, the weight of his presence—it was all too much. Pushing my chair back, I stood abruptly.

“I need some air,” I said, not waiting for a response as I made my way toward the door.

Behind me, I could hear Maddie murmuring something to Joe, probably trying to smooth things over. But I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.

The cool evening air hit my face as I stepped outside, my breath shaky as I tried to collect myself. Working with Joe was going to be harder than I thought.

I leaned against the brick wall outside Malone’s, the faint buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filtering through the door behind me. The cool air helped calm the heat rising in my chest, but it didn’t quiet my thoughts.

What were the odds of being paired with Joe? It felt like the universe was playing some cruel joke on me, forcing me to confront something I wasn’t ready to face.

The reality of it settled in my chest like a stone, making it hard to breathe. I shouldn’t have reacted like that—I knew it. But seeing him, sitting across from me, brought back everything I’d tried so hard to bury.

The door behind me creaked open, and I turned my head slightly, expecting Maddie.

Instead, Jamar stepped out, his usual easy grin replaced by something softer, almost concerned.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the wall beside me.

Hey,” he said, leaning against the wall beside me.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look unaffected. “Hey.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The quiet between us was heavy, filled with everything I wasn’t ready to admit.

“You okay?” Jamar finally asked, his voice low.

I let out a shaky breath, my eyes fixed on the parking lot in front of us. “I’m fine.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, tilting his head to catch my gaze. “I’m not Maddie—I know when someone’s not fine.”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Jamar wasn’t the kind of guy who pried, but he also didn’t let people off the hook easily.

“It’s just… a lot,” I admitted quietly, my fingers gripping the sleeves of my jacket.

He nodded, like he’d expected that answer. “Yeah, I figured. That’s why I came out here.”

He gave a slight nod, his face serious again. “Just don’t shut us out, alright? If you need to talk or need a distraction, we’re here.” He glanced back toward the door of Malone’s, then added, “Joe left, by the way. Said something about needing to clear his head. I think you both just need some space.”

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated. Joe leaving only added to the uncertainty swirling inside me. “I guess that’s for the best,” I muttered, pushing myself off the wall. “I don’t know how much more I can handle right now.”

“Yeah, he’s complicated like that,” Jamar continued, his tone light, but his eyes were sharp, watching me closely. “He pretends he’s all chill and collected, but deep down? He’s just as messed up about this as you are.”

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “That’s comforting.”

Jamar bumped my shoulder lightly, his grin returning. “Hey, I’m just saying—he’s not some robot. You’re not the only one feeling weird about this.”

I didn’t respond, the weight of his words settling over me.

Jamar studied me for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I get that. I do. But listen, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got Maddie, and you’ve got me. And if you need me to keep Joe in check, I got you.” He smirked lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “He may be a little too quiet for his own good, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t make things awkward for you. And honestly, Joe’s not as scary as you think.”

“Debatable,” I muttered, earning a chuckle from him.

“Fair,” he said, stepping away from the wall. “But seriously, don’t let this eat you up. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.”

I watched as he walked back toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “Oh, and Maddie’s probably in there plotting how to cheer you up, so brace yourself.”

Despite everything, I smiled. “Thanks, Jamar.”

He winked before disappearing back inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a small, fleeting sense of hope.

As Jamar started to head back inside, I stayed a moment longer, trying to steady myself. I knew I couldn’t run away from this forever. Sooner or later, I was going to have to face Joe. And when that time came, I hoped I’d be able to handle it without letting everything fall apart.

But for now, I took a deep breath, and when I walked back through the door of Malone's, it felt like stepping back into a world where the past was waiting to meet me.

[mochelisgf]

❛ word count: 1636

❛ warnings — smut, fingering (m!receiving), making out, idk other stuff that you’d usually see in smut fics

❛ bottom!morgan x reader

❛ authors note — this is my first time witting smut and i hate it so….enjoy 😀 also we need more mo cheli fics 😩

We hadn’t done anything in a week — perhaps even longer, seeing as how both me and Morgan have been busy; her with basketball and finals; and me with finals and my job. But here she was — flirting with someone else, well she's talking to a fan which is fine but come on? The excessive touching, holding her arm, biting her lip?

The act made you cringe – jealousy boiling inside of you, that should be me — she's mine. Blind by your rage you hadn’t noticed that morgan had made her way towards you until you hear

“Hi baby, did you enjoy the game?” is the first thing she says, her eyes sparkling as her breath — shallow and breathy begins returning to its usual state.

“Yeah I did, you did good today.” was all you said in response, your annoyance seeping through your fake smile lying on your face.

Morgan chuckles slightly, grabbing on your arm – pulling you up from your seat. As you guys are walking morgan continues —

“Geno wants me for a conference today so you’ll have to stay a little late today, okay?” not even bothering to answer her you simply hum, ending the conversation there – morgan must know she’s fucked up cause she keeps sneaking glances at you as you walk her to the conference room.

Stopping at the entrance, Morgan lets go of your arm and leans to give you a kiss on the cheek “wish me luck!” she says before stepping away and walking towards Paige and Sarah who were doing the conference alongside her – and walking into the room.

Obviously Morgan wasn’t too worried about how you’d felt just before the conference, because she had spent the entire time giggling, biting and licking her lips at the younger female and male reporters in the room. Answering the questions with flirtatious word choices and using those beautiful brown eyes to her advantage – even making the reporters melt and hot. She knew what she was doing, teasing me, and this wasn’t the first time she’d done it.

Throughout the week I'd been busy, but that didn't stop her from making attempts towards me, in private and in public – and even going as far as trying to make me jealous with her teammates. She was a brat and I wasn’t going to pass up a chance to teach her a lesson.

As soon as she’d finished her interview and walked into my view I grabbed her arm, pulling her towards me as I walked in the direction of the nearest private bathroom. Getting to the bathroom I yanked the door open – pushing her inside before turning around to lock the door.

Her eyes find and follow mine as I turn around to face her – her gaze drops to my lips as she bites her lips, breathing ragged and uneven.

Moving in, I pull her in by the back of her neck, closing the distance between us. Our bodies merge together as we devour each other's lips. Pulling away – my mouth opens slightly

“You’ve been bad mo.” you say, morgan in response attempts to close the gap between us again – letting out huff when I hold her back, stopping her attempt.

“fuck im sorry baby I- I was just..I dont know, please” she pleaded trying to close the gap once again – my hand on her throat stopping her again, the whimper she let out dying on her throat

“You need to learn how to Behave.” you say, slowly leaning it, her breathing heavy – your nose brushing on her neck as you slowly start kissing at her neck, careful not to leave hickeys on her neck seeing as how you guys were still in public. Her breath shaky – panting as you slightly begin mouthing at her neck, your hands finding their way downwards as you untuck her jersey from her shorts – slipping your hands on the material.

You push forward – her back finding the door to the bathroom stall, as her low moans echo throughout the bathroom

“take it off,” you whisper into her ear, signaling to her jersey before backing up to give her the space to do so. She moves forward a bit and then frantically grabs the bottom of her shirt and takes off her shirt – her medium grey sports bra laying underneath “the bra too baby.” you say – breathe heavy as your low, airy voice bounces off the walls of the room – she drops her shirt on the floor before taking her sports bra too and pulling it off, her hair getting even more messy as it slides off her head.

She waits. Standing there as her knees slightly shake and her face flushes harsher. You use two fingers to signal her towards you — her following in response. One of your arms wrapping her waist as her other one settles on her neck, caressing the skin. Looking at her she’s disheveled – lost — already gone in such little time, just waiting for her next demand.

Leaning in again; she moves fast, her lips desperate to meet yours. As the kiss deepens, your hands shift — the one that was lying on her neck moving to her front. Your hand palming her tits — squeezing slightly causing Morgan to gasp into the kiss and tighten her grip on your shirt.

Pulling away – the hand that you have on her waist starts to drift lower, slipping into her shorts and past the band of her underwear — brushing against her, your hand palmed at her tits again.

“Fuck” Morgan says as she tilts her head back, her lips parted and eyes shut tight.

Your fingers begin to move lower, touching — teasing her folds in the process, watching as your finger begin to be covered in her slick.

“baby plea –– fuck!” she shouts, her mouth dropping open as one of your fingers sinks in. Morgan wraps her arms once again around your neck, pulling you even closer to her — the movement causing your fingers to go deeper.

Morgan begins to moan out louder as you slowly start to move your fingers, curling up slightly when you go deeper

“fuck baby don’t stop—” a whimper breaking through — her legs growing weaker.

You stop your movements, slowing slipping out of her

“wait no —” Morgan panics

“it’s okay, just turn around from me, face the mirror mo” you shush her, nodding in her direction

She turns around, facing the mirror. Her eyes meet yours and you both smile in sync,

“take your shorts off” you say, she begins pulling her shorts off but then you add onto your demand “underwear too”, still holding eye contact with the girl.

Morgan reaches her hands so that they can grip onto her shorts and underwear before sliding them down — leaving her fully bare — completely out in the open, allowing you easier access.

You wrap your arms around her again, starting at the top, groping and palming at her tits causing the girl to moan out, then you move lower and lower before you reach your target

Morgan gasps under her breathe as you bring your hands lower, finally touching her folds ( or should I say clit idk) again, her head begins to lean back on your shoulder but you stop her, bringing her head back up,

“Keep staring into the mirror baby, come on” you say — Morgan nodding in agreement, just hoping that you’d stop teasing her and get over with it

her body is shrinking — she’s overwhelmed by the pleasure she’s feeling, the feeling of your hand rubbing her clit, that feeling increasing by 100 when you finally sink into her again, she’s tight — pulling your hand into her and she bites her lips in an attempt to be quieter.

“please move, god please baby” she whines out, desperate for anything — as you begin to move, her moans begin to echo throughout.

You’re practically moaning in her ear, although you couldn’t feel it yourself, the feeling of her squeezing around you — pulling you in, was more than enough. Her back pressing against your front was more than enough, her moving back against your fingers — basically grinding against you.

The bathroom was quiet, no words were being said. All that can be heard was squelching, whimpers and heavy breathing, until —

“shit, i’m so close” Morgan’s voice breaks through the noise as she looks at you through the mirror

“yeah? you gonna come for me baby?” your face in her neck –– returning her gaze, quickening your place, your fingers pistoning in her.

she nods “yeah, I’m gonna come for you” you add a second finger — moving your thumb to her clit, making a circular movement.

“then do it. come for me morgan” you whisper in her ear, sending her over the edge — she lets out a strangled noise, her knees buckling, your arm around her waist being the only thing keeping her from falling.

Nobody talks for the first few seconds, the only noise being the sound of you pulling out from her and both of your ragged breaths.

“Jesus christ, maybe i need to flirt with other people more often” is the first thing morgan says, forcing a laugh from you

“Absolutely not, don’t ever do that again.” you reply– smirking, still meeting her gaze in the now foggy mirror. For awhile you guys completely forget where y’all are, heads turned to kiss each other. That’s until morgan breaks away and says

“shit, how long have we been here? fuckk we need to leave, i'm gonna be in so much shit next practice” she panics, pushing you away to pick up her clothes that've been discarded on the floor earlier.

@kate20martin

[hiriajuu-suffering]

Okay, hear me out on the Sword Art Online IP.

Watching the cinematography and the subtle character moments in Progressive shows Reki Kawahara is actually picking up how to write his characters rather than plow forward with the plot. Only reason I've really been keeping up with franchise at all is Fairy Tail and SAO often get lumped together as the bad, gratuitous fanservicey shonens of the early 2010s.

Don't pay any mind to the fact, as far as organic character progression goes, the big 3 of this decade: Demon Slayer, Jujistu Kaisen, and My Hero Academia, are vapid shells of character development compared to the amount of reading between the lines authors wanted you to do for characters a decade ago. I don't like bad stories, but SAO, at its core, was never one of them.

How it was executed the first time was.

I was always of the opinion the first 14 episodes of SAO is 25 episodes of material spliced through because the manga had so little material to work with, probably because Reki Kawahara was focused on the metaphysics of the story rather than making it emotionally moving in a way that isn't jarring. The Aincrad arc is what made the show the most iconic anime of its time and all the time skips made things less connected. This is how I would've mapped out the show, given what we know about the material now.

Episodes 1-4: Town of Beginnings, early stages

Episodes 5-8: Moonlit Black Cats & Nicholas the Renegade

Episodes 9-10: Silica

Episodes 11-13: mental health, laughing coffin, the murder mystery

Episodes 14-15: Lisbeth

Episode 16: rare rabbit episode

Episode 17: the floor 74 episode, but instead of Heathcliff challenging Kirito immediately, Asuna/Kirito run away from the frontlines here because they came so close to dying.

Episodes 18-22: all the floor 22 material (spanning over months, not weeks w/ the fishing episode as a side story), ending with all of the Knights of Blood Oath having resentment towards Asuna/Kirito because no progress is being made without them, forcing Heathcliff to then challenge Kirito to a duel.

Episode 23: the original episode 10, I actually think it's fine if this is rushed. Only change is Asuna resigns as Vice Commander before they fight the skull reaper.

Episodes 24-25: the original episode 14, paced properly. Asuna & Kirito fight Heathcliff together instead of damseling Asuna, she falls in battle and Heathcliff realizes they both overcame the system because of their will to survive for each other and not themselves.

I think this might've fixed the pacing issues, but Progressive has went above and beyond to show all the new arcs aren't just ass-pulls from things that weren't shown in Aincrad, but things you can realistically place through the story. After all, I'm writing this in a time, in-universe, Asuna is supposed to be stuck in ALO in canon. Speaking of ALO, SAO abridged has just written ALO perfectly as it was produced, but the Fairy Dance arc always felt like it should've started a new season and Fairy Dance, Extra, Phantom Bullet, Calibur, and Mother's Rosario could've all fit in 24 episodes: FD (7), Ex (0.5), PB (10.5), Calibur (2), MR (4). Biggest problems with the SAO story through the pre-AR arcs

Sugo's character was laughably evil and making Asuna's father out to be a dumbass when her mother is supposed to be the point of trauma

The entire incest angle. SAO abridged literally fixed it.

Dumb MMORPG race-bait narrative politics

Sugo hearing about Kirito but literally no one in ALO respecting him even when he shows he's cracked as hell

The duel with Eugene could've been far less convoluted if you needed a fight scene because it created suspense exhaustion

Literally none of the sexual assault was needed. Brainwashing is enough of a crime, this was literally a thought of "the female fans won't care enough unless the boss of this arc is a pedo".

Asuna's damseling continuing after Fairy Dance

Forced sexual tension between Sinon and Kirito

Crazy exposition dumps

Lack of compersion between Asuna & Sinon. This sullies the way Kirito handles Alice and her overall character. Almost every fan recognizes the story would be better served removing bad harem elements with ones that illustrate you can love your friends platonically and equally (see Klein), regardless of gender.

Those issues, I feel, Reki Kawahara has recognized and we're seeing him rectify in his writing. Ordinal Scale, as a film, was limited by the series writing, but, in context, it was a perfect film for what it was doing. Both Alicization seasons were a step up, but still showed flashes of the bad writing that gave SAO its reputation.

Eugeo was well-written, Alice Zuberg was setup to be a phenomenally written character, the fact Alice Synthesis Thirty feels no imposter syndrome or reconnection with Zuberg is self-defeating to the narrative.

Eugeo is just Sachi written properly

Lack of parallels of Administrator's behavior to Sugo's made the narrative less sound

Imposition of top-down A.I. as irreplaceable humanity before they suffer from the eye thing when an artificial fluctlight were basically just NPCs anyways - maybe paint Asuna as the norm and Kirito having a broader definition of human worth from that war meeting?

Xenophobic propaganda

Gabriel Miller's motivations????

Mind control gimmick after Eiji/Yuna appeared was dumb. Eiji should've beaten Vassago and Asuna should've finished him by speaking with Eugeo's spirit on how to use the combo Kirito used on him to trap him the underworld. Asuna, as the literal goddess of the underworld, Staccia, should've been the Mary Sue.

Bercouli was literally just there with nothing defining

Leafa just being there as a plot device and to get molested

Higa being too much of a fanboy to save the queen's fluctlight?? Really???

Alice being recognized while Asuna/Kirito aren't when they go back into the underworld

A lot of people were saying Alicization was what SAO was supposed to feel like, I still am of the mind its potential fell flat. Sinon, Yuki, and Eugeo are the only 3 characters that have been strong in my view, and, as a Lisbeth, Leafa, and Yui fan, the failings tend to stack up.

If Progressive is any indication of what things can be, unital ring will be my favorite arc. You can wrap up Asuna & Kazuto's human story without damseling Asuna and without it getting in the way of how Klein, Silica, Lisbeth, Leafa, and Alice should be growing as people. Sword Art Online is best when Asuna is strong and Kirito sustains her, but not vise-versa. Sword Art Online is best when we can reasonably see how Suguha is the best irl sword-player in the group, not Kazuto. Sword Art Online is best when they put together character-writing like Eiji. Unital ring feels like it's supposed to be a story that doesn't need to tug a hanging thread from the Aincrad arc to spur on the plot, and that's where the actual story development can get interesting. The biggest flaw with SAO is it's been extracting everything it can out of all the time skips it did because it rushed through its foundational narrative, without really challenging or reframing how we look at the story since episode 14.

I want to believe that's what Reki Kawahara is doing with unital ring series being written. Otherwise, there won't be any payoff to the series and Kirito is the biggest self-insert isekai harem protagonist and nothing more than that. If the theming of the series says anything, it's that the world deserves more life than presenting another ghost of Aincrad.

So yeah, call me cringe, but I'll still be looking at SAO as what can fix anime, even though it created a lot of the problems we have with it now. I don't think anything else can.

If we ever get separated again, I swear I’ll find you, and come to your rescue. Because, Asuna, you’re my partner, all right? Yes.

[sunny-knight]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[sanjisleggy]

let your husband help you (shanks x reader)

eq: HELLO HELLO, GOD I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD YOUR REQUESTS OPEN, I LOVE YOUR WRITING OF SHANKS, I LOVE WHEN THEY PUT READER AS SHANKS' WIFE AHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️ something about shanks, with a fem!reader (if possible) that has wings and sometimes the wings with feathers require molting and there are areas that cannot be reached closer to the back and requires help to remove the loose feathers

a/n: (i am playing valorant as i write this help) ty for the request anon! :D the enthusiasm is very endearing ;;0;; hope you enjoy reading! also man i love writing for Shanks :3c

contents: a bit of angst (fem!reader is having a hard time), descriptions of itchiness and pain, comfort, fluff :D, a tad bit suggestive bc it’s Shanks

wc. 1.2k

wanna be on my taglist?

i.

these past few weeks have been torture. today especially so.

alone in your bedroom aboard the Red Force you writhe in itchiness and pain as your back aches in a way it hasn’t in a long time. lying face-down on your bed, you feel your wings twitch and tremble as you contort your arms to reach behind you as far as humanly possible; only to groan in defeat when the most you can do is brush the offending feathers with your fingertips.

for days now a small part of your brain has been nagging at you to go get Shanks for the sake of your poor back and wings but you’ve heard from your crewmates how busy he’s been so you’ve pushed the urge aside. now, though, the idea has forced its way to the forefront of your mind out of desperation, no doubt.

holding back a sob of frustration that threatens to make its way out of your throat, you nuzzle your face into your husband’s pillow, hoping that his scent can serve as a distraction of some kind. more than anything though, it simply acts as a poor placeholder for the real thing and only makes your aching heart (and wings) yearn for him even more.

“c’mon, (Y/N), don’t be shy,” his gentle voice called from outside the utility closet in which you’d chosen to hide–away from him. you felt your face heat up at Shanks’ persistence to help with something he wasn’t even totally aware of; he just knew you were in pain so he had to help.

“it’s okay, i can deal with it myself,” you lied, wincing when one of your wings brushed against a shelf behind you. most of the molting feathers had already been dealt with but your wings had grown a lot since the last time you molted and now they were far too big for your hands to reach. “just leave me alone.”

“if you don’t tell me what’s up, i’ll tell Rayleigh.”

“no!” you protested instantly. as much as you trusted the first mate of your crew with your life, this was far too embarrassing to get him involved. “if you tell anyone i’ll leave the crew, you asshole.”

you had meant it only as a false threat but the sudden silence told you Shanks took it a bit more seriously than you thought he would.

“okay, fine,” he replied and you could hear the pout on his face. “i just wanna help. there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. you know you can trust me to take care of you.”

a particularly sharp pain shoots through your spine from your right wing and the whine of discomfort slips past your lips before you can help yourself. too far gone to care about anyone hearing from outside your quarters, you let yourself sob aloud, the relief from crying doing little to ease your discomfort. 

the immense helplessness of your situation makes you realise how pampered you’ve been all these years. how lucky you are to have had such a loving friend-turned-lover who always took it upon himself to care for you. now here you are: alone in your bedroom, struggling with a task that you long should’ve learned how to deal with yourself.

you nearly give in to the urge to seek out the one person you trust to alleviate your pain but at this point, you’re too tired to even get off the bed. maybe it’s for the best, you wonder to yourself. your eyes flutter closed as you pull Shanks’ pillow a bit closer and bury your face deeper into it as you allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by your exhaustion, hoping that at least you can sleep away the next few hours of aches and itching.

ii.

letting out a sigh of relief, the one-armed Emperor took his time returning to his ship after a grueling few weeks of settling disputes between several smaller pirate crews. normally such tasks would never take this long–hell, most of the time he didn’t even have to step in–but civilians’ lives were at stake so he had no choice.

now, as Shanks nears the dock and sees the Red Force coming into view, all he can think about is taking a nap with you. not only have his duties kept him away from you all day every day, he’d also been going to bed at ungodly hours, crawling under the sheets beside you long after you’ve fallen asleep. though he can’t wait to spend some quality time with you, he wants nothing more than to rest by your side with the knowledge that he’ll finally be able to wake up after you for once.

“hey Captain,” Benn calls out from aboard the deck once Shanks reaches speaking-distance. “i think (Y/N) needs your help.”

“see, what’d i say?” you could practically hear him smiling as he sat behind you, tenderly plucking out the final few loose feathers. “there’s no need to be shy around me.” Shanks tugged at a particularly stubborn feather and when it finally came loose, you couldn’t help the moan of relief that came out of your mouth.

you felt your cheeks rapidly heat up in shame as you buried your face in your hands, fully prepared for the boy to make fun of you. but it never came. instead, Shanks stayed quiet as he soothed the particular spot of skin with his fingers in a manner so tender you couldn’t believe it was him.

“there, all done,” he said. you were grateful but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and face him even though you knew you had to in order to thank him properly. 

as though sensing your dilemma, Shanks leaned forward to press his lips against your shoulder blade, right above where your wings sprouted from your back. it sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps appeared all over but you didn’t tell him to stop, if anything, you wanted him to continue.

you’re ripped out abruptly from your dream when the door of your quarters slams shut. from your face-down position in bed, you’re unable to see who it is but only one person in this world would be brave enough to make such an entrance.

“welcome back,” you groan, using your arms to push the upper half of your body off the mattress as you turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

“why didn’t you call for me?” your husband responds, tossing his cape onto the floor before rushing over to guide you back down into a resting position. Shanks pulls over two other more pillows and places them in a way he knows, from years of experience, makes you the most comfortable. “how long have your wings been molting?” 

there’s a slight hint of frustration in his voice but you know it’s not directed at you. it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty, though.

“it started… two weeks ago…” you mumble into Shanks’ pillow.

“you–” he cuts himself off with a deep sigh before he says anything impulsive. the Emperor understands you just didn’t want to disrupt his work and he appreciates the sentiment greatly, he’d just hoped that after all these years of marriage, you’d know how he’d do quite literally anything for you. this, he decides as his eyes scan your twitching wings and tangled feathers, is a conversation for another day though.

“poor thing,” Shanks coos instead, leaning down to press kisses all over the back of your neck and around your shoulder blades as he runs his hand down your side. you can feel his lips smile against your skin when your body shivers in response. “you must’ve been in so much pain, hmm? let your husband help you out.” 

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui

[teddy06writes]

Take Care of You

Fiyero Tigelaar x gn!reader

Prompt(s): "I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need your help, and I definitely don’t need your pity. Fuck off.” / "You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here for you if you’ll just let me in.”

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, general descriptions of sickness, stress, something in readers background makes them not want to depend on people, out of character fiyero? (idk man I've only seen the movie and read a lot of gilyeraba fics}

Summary: You and Fiyero have been going out for a few weeks, but you're still hesitant to let yourself get too near him. When you come down with the mysterious illness that's been working its way through Shiz, Fiyero's determined to nurse you through it, despite your reservations.

The harder you tried to focus on the words before you, the more your head swam. The library was quiet, and the lights were dim, so there shouldn't have been any chances of your headache getting worse. Yet pain still thundered at your temples.

Of course, after dodging this sickness for weeks, you caught it just in time for Dr. Dillamond to assign a very important project. It was just your luck.

You dropped your pen to the side, letting your head drop down onto your arms, heaving in a deep breath. No matter what you took or how much you tried to shake it, you could lose the bone tiredness that had been plaguing you for days now.

"You alright, darling? How long have you been holed up in here for?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Fiyero's voice, dragging your head up so quickly you swore you saw spots, "Uh-"

"Woah, hey," He quickly sat down in the chair next to you, reaching out like he needed to steady you, "What's going on?"

You blinked, trying to clear your vision, "Sorry- sorry, I'm just- tired."

"No need to apologize, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"

Clearing your throat, you nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just have a bit of a headache."

Fiyero frowned, glancing at the textbook in front of you, "Well how long have you been working? Maybe it's time for a break."

"Only an hour. I'm fine."

He watched you with concern as you turned back to your work. You could practically feel him watching you, surely taking stock of the dark bags under your eyes, the unusual paleness of your skin, the way you suddenly couldn't seem to warm up.

"Have you taken medicine-"

"Yes. I do know how to take care of myself, Fiyero." There's a sharpness to your voice even you don't expect.

Even out of the corner of your eye you can see him frown, "I know that, darling, I know. You just don't look too good."

You let out a sigh, starting turn toward him again, "Fiyero-"

Before you could stop him, he was reaching out to press the back of his hand to your forehead, his frown deepening, "Darling, your burning up, what on earth are you doing studying?"

"The new assignment from Dr. Dillamond-"

"Isn't due for a week and a half! I mean honestly- Darling you should be resting-"

You stood up abruptly, even as it made stars dance in your vision, "I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I don't need your help, and I certainly don't need your pity, so please, fuck off."

Fiyero had stood and managed to catch your wrist before you could even make it three steps away, pulling you to turn back to him with a strange, desperate look on his face, "Who said this was pity?"

"Fiyero--"

"Who said this was pity?" He repeated, letting go of your wrist only to cup your cheek, his voice dropping, "I happen to genuinely care about your wellbeing, because believe it or not, I care about you, darling."

You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying desperately to turn away, "Fiyero..."

"You don't have to go through this, or anything else alone. Not anymore, not while I'm here," His hand drifted back to the back of your neck, gently turning your face back to him, "I'm right here if you'll just let me in."

Just like that, something in you seemed to break, and you were suddenly trying to blink away tears.

"Oh- Darling-"

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry-"

Fiyero began gently wiping away he few tears that had escaped and were trailing down your cheeks, "Hey, hey, don't apologize..."

"I'm just so tired- I can't shake this no matter what I do."

"Well, forcing yourself to be out and about certainly isn't helping," Fiyero turned, beginning to gather up your books and tuck everything away into your bag, "Come on, let's get you back to your dorm so you can get some rest."

When he took your hand, you didn't fight it, instead allowing yourself to be led along, out of the library. Outside, the cool air only seemed to worsen your chill, and Fiyero was quick to shrug off his jacket, tucking it around your shoulders.

The walk back to the dorms felt twice as long as your original journey to the library had taken, but eventually, you'd made it. Fiyero had coaxed you to lie down, and after all but forcing you to take another dose of medicine, tucked you into bed as if it were his life's mission.

You managed to catch hold of his hand as he turned to leave, whispering hoarsely, "Thank you, 'yero."

"Of course, darling," He smiled softly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead, "I'll come by and check on you in the morning, yeah?"

But the only response he got was the sound of your soft snores. Chuckling to himself, Fiyero pressed another kiss to your forehead, before backing out of your room.

~~~

Enjoyed this fic? Help me buy textbooks :)

[emyyxy]

eyebrow piercing

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

billy and stu catch reader giving themself an eyebrow piercing (kinda graphic kinda long)

you sat on the bathroom counter, staring at yourself in the mirror, holding a safety pin in your trembling fingers.

“this is such a bad idea.” you mutter to yourself, still staring at your reflection. you take a deep breath and bring the safety pin up to your eyebrow.

the front door had been slammed shut, bringing you back to your reality. you could hear faint arguing in between billy and stu on which cheesy horror movie to watch. you regained your focus and brought the pin to your eyebrow.

bringing the pin closer to your skin, the pointy end grazing your skin at the bottom of your eyebrow. your breath hitched at the sensation and you gritted your teeth.

“alright..one, two-” you whispered.

“what the hell are you doing?”

billy’s voice cut through the cold air. you jumped at his voice and dropped the pin onto the counter, whipping your head to the door. you see billy standing in the doorframe with a wide eyed and irritated expression. behind him was stu, leaning on the doorframe with a stupid grin on his face.

“no fucking way!” stu cackled while pushing through billy to get a closer look. “are you seriously trying to do your own eyebrow piercing right now?!”

“it’s none of your business!” you shot him down. cheeks were getting flushed with embarrassment as you jumped off the counter.

“i have a better question- why are you trying to mutilate your face?!” billy crossed his arms.

“i’m not mutilating anything! its just an eyebrow piercing. people do this all the time!” you huffed while grabbing the lose safety pin off the counter.

“yeah” stu interjected. “with the proper and sterile equipment. where did you even find that safety pin?!” he snorts.

you shoot him a glare.

billy snatches the safety pin out of your hands before you can even protest. “a safety pin? seriously?” he inspected it in his hand. “you couldn’t wait and just go to a professional?”

“why go to a professional when i can do the same thing at home! for free!” you huffed while trying to take the pin out of his hand. billy raises an eyebrow and his hand, the pin now out of your reach. “you’re willing to risk an infection just to save money?”

“y/n, why don’t we do it? we’re great with sharp objects.” stu slings an arm around your neck.

“absolutely not.” billy interjects. “you are not touching their face.”

“ugh you’re no fun.” stu throws his hands up in protest.

you steal back the pin while billy got distracted. “look, i don’t need your help. i was doing fine before you guys rudely barged in.” you roll your eyes.

“fine? really?” billy’s brow arched. “doing fine? with a rusty safety pin in a dirty bathroom? you call that fine?” his voice was full of sarcasm.

“the bathroom is not that dirty!”

“do we not see the toothpaste stains in the sink?” stu points to the dirty sink. “sure. spotless.”

you groaned at the endless bickering. yeah, this wasn’t your brightest idea but it wasn’t completely horrible.

billy pins the bridge of his nose. “how about this, you wait a week and we’ll take you to get it done properly. our treat.”

“seriously?” your eyes narrowed down on billy. “what’s the catch?”

“no catch. you just have to wait a week. plus, we don’t want to hear you complain about a botched piercing.”

“besides” stu slings an arm around your neck again. “it’ll be fun to watch someone else stab you.” he laughs and sticks a tongue out. you smacked his arm off.

“fine.” you put your hands up, accepting defeat. “but if you guys fall through, i’m doing it myself.”

“deal. let’s just get out of this bathroom before we catch a disease.” billy drags you out of the bathroom, stu following your lead. you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

later in the week…

the week was dragging on and days were blending into one. you were growing insanely restless. billy and stu were taking forever planning and it was just such a drag. you had to take it into your own hands.

by the fifth day you were over playing the waiting game.

which is how you found yourself in the bathroom again. but this time you came prepared. you properly cleaned the safety pin, cleaned the bathroom, and watched a couple of youtube videos.

you pressed the pin into your skin, feeling the stinging sensation of it breaking through the surface. your breathing quickened and your vision became slightly blurred from the rush of adrenaline, but it’s too late to stop now. slowly pushing the pin through while biting your lip the whole time, to keep from making any noise.

it finally went through and you sharply exhaled, while staring at your reflection. it wasn’t perfect but it also wasn’t terrible either. you put the small silver hoop through and you couldn’t help but grin at what a good job you’ve done.

“not bad.” you whisper to yourself while examining your reflection.

“not bad?” billy’s voice pierced through your soul more than the safety pin did. it made you jump violently, almost knocking the cleaning solution over.

whipping your head to the door, seeing billy and stu standing in the doorway. billy was pissed and stu had a wide eyed expression on his face. why am i getting deja vu right now…

“you did it!” stu started bouncing around the room, chanting. “oh my god- you’re actually insane! i love it!”

“shut up, stu.” billy huffs, stepping forward, he grabs your chin. he harshly tilts your face at any and all angles, examining the “damage” you’ve done to your face. “are you trying to get an infection?”

“it’s fine.” you pulled his hand away from you. “i cleaned it. it doesn’t even hurt that much.”

his jaw tightened and so did his gaze on you. “that’s not the point, baby. we told you to wait and you didn’t!”

“yeah, but-”

“but nothing.” he cut you off. “you’re lucky you didn’t mess it up. do you even know what your doing?” his voice was low and cold.

“who cares?” stu was grinning like a coked up maniac, leaning in the doorway. “billy, give them some credit! they pulled it off, i think. it’s badass, actually. kind of turning me on…” stu raises his eyebrows up and down, giving you a look.

“yeah, if putting yourself at risk of serious danger was badass.” billy rolled his eyes. “and don’t even think of going anywhere, you’re staying put and let me clean this up.”

as much as you protested that you cleaned it, billy did not believe you one bit. he cleaned the piercing for you while stu sat on the edge of the bathtub watching as if it was the most entertaining thing all week. while he was doing so, he lectured you on the importance of cleaning your piercings and as to why you should never do something like this again.

“thank you billy.” you muttered, looking away.

“yeah, yeah.” he tosses the last cotton ball into the trash.

while hopping off the counter, you give both of your boys a kiss on the cheek.

[lavendermin]

unsent draft: I miss you | jing yuan

jing yuan x reader, ex-fiancé jing yuan

wc | 1k

genre | hurt and hardly any comfort, modern au

warnings | alcohol, excessive drinking, reader implied to get blackout drunk, jing yuan has been your ex 3 times, brief mention of puking

The familiar bedroom is frigid with new, painful unfamiliarity. Your thumb trembles over the last few blurry and shaky videos on your camera roll— none of which you recall taking.

The time stamps at the top only serve to prove you guilty. Yes, this is still indeed your phone.

You reluctantly press play.

“Give it.”

“No–!”

Through the shaky video, you watch as your friend clearly struggles to take the phone away from you. The intoxicated look in your glassy eyes you manage to catch a glimpse of makes the back of your neck burn in embarrassment.

“You are not calling him. I promised you that I would be here as your driver so you wouldn’t bother him,” she argues. Petulantly, you tuck your phone under your thigh and the screen goes black.

“But he hasn’t called me or texted me in hours,” you whine with a tremble clearly heard on your lips. God, you were such a wreck.

“Weeks,” your friend corrects. “He’s your ex, for aeon’s sake. Not some babysitter. Grown man with a job.”

There’s a muffled sound of what might be you beginning to sob.

“He said he would be here for New Years. Always too busy for me,” you sniffle. “Maybe Jing Yuan just doesn’t love me like he used to.”

Your friend audibly groans somewhere next to you. “Babes, it’s been 5 years since you guys broke up. You do this every time we go out. And it’s November.”

The words don’t register. Too far gone. “I’m gonna call him.” Even your words are beginning to slur.

There’s the beginning of a loud protest from your friend and then the video ends.

With a deep, steadying sigh you swipe to continue surveying the damage that led you to this uncomfortable situation. A few blurry photos here and there. A video of you trying to reapply lipstick not realizing you were recording yourself.

You want to crawl in a hole and wait for a nearby star’s death to consume you in its glorious collapse. Until then, you would feel shame and embarrassment.

Still, despite the twisting feeling in your gut you press on.

The next video seems to be your phone in your hand facing your lap— seated at a park bench it appears.

“I’m worried about this— you and whatever you don’t want to talk about sober.” Your stomach drops as soon as you hear Jing Yuan’s voice from beside you in the video. It’s hard to deny the horrible ache in your heart, the love it still stubbornly holds.

“Haven’t seen you… so long,” you slur, a hurt and sorrowful whine in your quiet voice. Surely by the way you sound like a kicked puppy you’ve been crying beside him for some time.

“Let’s get you home. You’ll freeze even with my coat on if you stay here longer.” His words are gentle and patient. The fine line he tries to keep is only now varying in width, thinner at certain steps with you and it's crumbling his resolve. Again.

The video shifts as he takes your hand to try to pull you to your feet. In your attempt to adjust your grip you flip it to face the other way, both of you now mostly in view. You have to look away from the video, the forlorn warmth his eyes still hold too much for you to handle with a pounding headache setting in.

There are new tears flowing down your cheeks as you sniffle and your voice strains with the sobs you hold back. “Every day you’re further away. I don’t want to lose you again.”

At your confession, he sighs just out of frame. Defeated, holding your same regrets close. Jing Yuan leans into you and places a brief, chaste kiss to your temple, hugging you close to his chest. You stay like that for the rest of the video as you sob quietly into him— until your phone’s battery dies moments later and ends the recording.

Broken up three times— always hoping that last time was going to work out. Twice as just partners and the third an engagement that broke off.

Mutual and on good terms. That’s what you always tell everyone— tell yourself— that the break-ups were. And though they were that in writing, in your heart there’s a more complicated story.

There will never be anyone else that will hold space in your life like he did. You wouldn’t want anyone else— a feeling so strong and disheartening. Because as much as you try not to, your entire being still yearns for him. Unhealthily.

An utter fool, left to drown their sorrows in a few too many drinks. The muddled memories bring you back to the winter before your engagement was broken off— forgetting the final break up and returning to your tumultuous state of mind that spiraled you down to that mutual end.

It’s something Jing Yuan partially expects every few weeks. A drunken call or text from you— his cue to get you home safe before you make yourself sick. He’s never once complained. Never once declined or left you on read.

He always was a gentleman like that.

But you can’t keep living within these delusions forever. The room you once shared is foreign with missing photos and the absence of your personal items. No comfort, not the one you crave. All of these emotions welling up again make your hangover feel more like a train hit you.

His side of the bed is empty, untouched. Clearly, he gave up his room for you to sleep in overnight. It had to have been pretty bad for him to drag you to his place instead.

“So,” Jing Yuan begins with a clear of his throat as he lingers by the door. You hate that he looks as divine as the day you first met– better, even. You’re sure you look a mess right now. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes catch the glimmer of the silver band on his ring finger. A scorching heat grips your body with churning nausea. All the words you’re too much of a coward to say well up at your throat– begging to be let out.

…And then you puke your guts out on his floor.

[barcameowski]

more marc guiu & marc bernal imagines plss

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ⁻ marc guiu

warnings: christmas (if you dont celebrate

genre: fluff

pairing: marc guiu x gf!reader

a/n: I know it’s not christmas but whatever also not proof read cause I’m too tired

summary: your first christmas with marc in london and you have a friendly gingerbread house competition

Its christmas eve and you and marc were currently sat down on the sofa in your apartment in london with your feet resting comfortably under a blanket on his lap.

with it being both of your first christmas spent in london and you haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together you were both taking advantage of the time he had off due to the holiday season.

scrolling through social media on your phone you were slowly getting even more bored marc let out a sudden gasp “we forgot to do the annual gingerbread competition” he ran to your shared kitchen, leaving your feet with no resting place on the sofa.

his family had a christmas tradition to have a competition decorating gingerbread houses. but it seemed to have slipped marcs mind as he wasn’t celebrating christmas with his family for the first time and he was overwhelmed with football.

“y/n! do you plan on coming any time soon?” he called out your name from the kitchen as you heard the commotion of him trying to find the gingerbread houses that you had bought a few weeks before while buying decorations.

you sighed throwing your blanket off of your lower body and slowly making your way to the kitchen “it’s in the shelf to the right”

he opened the shelf and finally found the gingerbread houses “and the icing?” he asked as he slid the boxes onto the counter “in the box” you said “ladies and gentlemen welcome to the annual christmas gingerbread house decorating competition” he jokes “london edition” you added

he started measuring the amount of icing in each piping bag with his eyes and humming in slight frustration but eventually hands you a bag filled with slightly less icing in it “here this one has less” he smiles and you roll your eyes

you grabbed a knife to open the boxes that were secured with tape before he started complaining and took the knife out of your hand gently “no, no, no. if you cut your finger on christmas eve, I will never forgive you” you smile “marc, it was a butter knife” you say, he responds by shaking his head

as you scroll through your phone mindlessly he groans “mine has cracks” you start laughing and he turns back at you offended “it’s not funny”

“yes it is! but it’s fine, we can switch” you tell him after catching your breath as you rub his shoulder in a soothing manner “thanks” he smiles. it was like his entire mood changed and he didn’t care anymore.

“okay ready?” he questions and you nod as he starts the timer “1 2 3 start!” you could’ve sworn he was cheating because he was already putting the icing on the house before he finished counting but ignored it and started working on your house

you started by drawing little details with the white icing before reaching for the baby blue colored icing not knowing marc was also reaching for it, he placed his other hand on yours and peeled it off of the piping bag “jeez, calm down. it’s all yours” you put your hands up in surrender

he is a bit competitive

after that little situation you reached to grasp the baby pink icing just as marc went to grab it, again “marc, is this a joke? you can’t possibly need both at the same time”

“don’t worry it’s a joke. take it” he laughs as he pulls his hand away and continues decorating. you set little pearl candys around the top of the roof and work on more little details.

•

the timer beeps a while after and you raise your hands but marc keeps decorating, you slap his arm lightly “the timer went off don’t cheat!”

he lifted his hands up and admired his gingerbread house, finally he looked at yours “it’s nice but not as good as mine” he shrugs “mine is so much better” you insist defending yourself “you’re my girlfriend I don’t wanna be mean but you could’ve done better” he joked and you hit his arm once again “I’m just joking” he says pulling you into a hug and placing a kiss on your forehead “your gingerbread house does look good”

“who’s gonna declare the winner?” you ask looking up at his face “I’ll call my mom” he reaches for your phone and puts in your passcode before calling his mom on facetime “hi mi amor!” she greets enthusiastically but once she realizes it was marc that called from your phone she’s not as enthusiastic “oh it’s you”

“mom!” he says extremely offended “I’m sorry but you already called me today I want to talk to y/n! but what do you need? is everything alright?”

“yeah we’re alright-“ you say as you were about to ask her to choose the winner before marc cuts you off “my heart isn’t alright” marc complains dramatically

“ignore him” you advise his mom “wow i see how it is” your boyfriend says in the background “anyways, we need you to tell us who wins the gingerbread competition” she instantly starts smiling again “oh you guys are keeping up the tradition!”

you flip the camera to show her your gingerbread houses and she slips her glasses up her nose and hums in concentration for a while before she makes her decision “you both did good I can’t lie. so unfortunately there is no winner” she says. marc groans “you’re biased” he tells her as he rests his head on your shoulder and you hold the phone up.

“okay thank you! we’ll talk later. merry christmas!” you hang up “yeah i won she just didn’t want to hurt your feelings” you tell him as you start cleaning up your mess “you guys are both so mean to me”

you turn on a christmas rom-com and cuddle up into his side on the sofa until sleep takes over your control of keeping your eyes open and you drift off.

𖣊

requests are open

[xxplastic-cubexx]

crusty evolution redraw. in theory.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

(DATV thoughts with spoilers ahead; i think my tags will keep it filtered but just in case it doesn't since i dont want this in the actual game tags)

i just... man. i don't have a well formulated thought for this yet (and its my PERSONAL OPINION and other people can feel as different as they want, this is not an attack) but it keeps bouncing around my head, so. i know the popular thing right now is coming up with in-universe justifications for The Pantry Almost-Kiss Scene in ways that imply Lucanis didn't mean it/it doesn't represent him as a person/he was Faking It.

and i just don't like any of them. they make me sad!!!!!! i don't like the idea that one of the like 4 romance scenes we get in this game is him Pretending in some way, even if he does at that point like Rook back at least somewhat. None of the justifications i've seen make me feel Better about that being the point where we declare him as a romantic interest, which is what it is in the game, functionally. It doesn't lock you in yet but that point IS where the game says "they will take your flirting more seriously now". I did those same scenes for Davrin, Emmrich, and Taash and this is the formula the game uses (the "interrupted almost-kiss/confession" happens for almost all of the companions).

so if the answer for Lucanis' is "actually he stopped because he Didn't like what he was doing/feel that way yet" or that he felt he had to pretend for Rook's sake... it's kind of a letdown you know? esspecially when it comes right after what seems like an actually authentic moment (dispelling his "perfectly gathered clouds of doom"). Because, at that point in the game from my/Rook's perspective, it was like he finally was reciprocating. It made me hope that he'd acknowledge whatever was between him & Rook more in future scenes, especially because you get so little else from him at any other point, in terms of flirting back/showing you he IS interested. like up to that point I felt kind of bad for continuing to flirt at him, when he'd just change the subject right after! if someone did that in real life i would take it as a hint to stop. This is pixels and not real people so I didn't but they have done "reluctant/fearful interest" better in other characters if that's truly what they were going for in this one.

so after finishing the romance and getting the rest of content... idk. I don't like saying "one of the major chunks of characterization we get needs to be Thrown Out Actually because he was Pretending". because it's not like he or Rook ever actually address it in game--you just don't get to talk about feelings until some dialogue choices only in the act 3 romance scene, and then his speech at endgame (not even a full conversation, so much as his personal declaration). like it takes until the VERY end of the game for him to say the thing about "he was afraid to want you", but that comes after you've already hooked up, even.

I think truly what annoys me is that it's a story choice that can only make sense in HINDSIGHT not AS PLAYING. Only once you have all the scenes can you say "this one is out of character" and then you either have to accept it as bad writing, or come up with some in-universe justification to explain it... and so far none of the in universe ones feel good to me. i wish they did because maybe then I'd be less annoyed, rip. but at the end of the day i think even if there was some intent there, it was a poor choice for his story arc, because it doesn't effectively convey anything... and the reason why we can project a lot of different explanations onto it is simply because it is never addressed again (and again, Lucanis Dellamorte is NOT A PERSON he is a CHARACTER used to further a story for you the player, and so the reasons I don't like this choice are story-level and not a dig at how real life people feel or act).

So yeah at the end of the day. that is simply not a narrative device I would ever personally use in this way on a player/reader. certain kinds of hindsight revelations have their place (see: what the devs tried to do with Varric though I also think that falls apart on close inspection, but at least it has justification in-universe), but for a romance it just makes me embarrassed for Rook. In a game where you don't have nearly as many back-and-forth conversations with characters and have to resort to eavesdropping on them talking to each other, it's sad that one of the like 5 times you actually get to talk to Lucanis one on one we're maybe supposed to believe he wasn't being authentic, and also that Rook can't respond to this ever. It would be different if it had any kind of follow up, imo. or honestly as i've said before i would rather it have been swapped out with something entirely different or where we get to talk about their feelings instead, before i get labeled as one of the "people mad he's not Zevran 2.0/a sexy latin sterotype".

But having to step back to player-level analysis versus in-character analysis when looking at his whole romance arc just feels sloppy. but i'd much rather stick to "bad writing" than "intentional character choice" in terms of how to interpret the scene I guess, at this point, for poor Rook's sake. and i know people disagree with when I've said that before bc as much as I love Mary Kirby in other areas, she has said many times that she doesn't like writing romance, and I think it really does show here. As much as I love Lucanis and the scraps we got I wish I didn't have to do so much filling-in-the-blanks on our own.