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truelovepolinator · 1 month ago

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Nicola and Luke are ABSOLUTELY TOGETHER and have been all along and here’s how I know

(Friends, I’ve just finished this and it is INSANELY LONG. Like, two looong book chapters long. But I PROMISE it’s worth it. I was gonna cut it into multiple parts to make it more readable, but I’m going to be super busy over the next few days, so I wouldn’t have a chance to post subsequent parts until probably Christmas, so I’ve decided to drop it all now so I don’t delay the final victorious conclusion. Sorry, it’s so long, but I don’t really have time to rethink it and try to tell the story in a more concise way. Again, I think you’ll be glad you stuck with it if you want to feel as thoroughly confident as I am that Nic and Luke are absolutely together.)

So I want to start by saying something I’m sure I’ll repeat. This is, of course, just my opinion and supposition based on the evidence available to me. But I also want to say, I am absolutely, positively sure now in a way I have never been. Genuinely not a doubt in my mind, and I think you’ll agree by the end of this.

It’s also worth noting that this may be nothing new to some of you. I’ve only been on this platform for a week and have barely scratched the surface of the great content here. So this is how *I* came to the final, joyful conclusion that everything is right with the world where lukola is concerned. I had long been sure they belonged together, but was afraid to embrace the theories about them actually being together now for fear of heartbreak, plus all the confusing signals about A & J, etc.

But all that changed a couple nights ago when I finally got the last piece of the puzzle I needed to see the big picture. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense, until they did! I literally couldn’t sleep that night (seriously only got about 2 hours) and then spent next day telling my husband the story for hours (in 20-30 minute increments as he could spare them during his slow, Christmas time work day).

My husband has been a patient, long-suffering skeptic through all of this. He’s put up with my rants and constant videos I just had to share, but he’s been completely convinced from day one that they simply leaned into their friendship to turn on faux relationship vibes for PR. He was absolutely sure it was all just make-believe for the fans. No matter what I showed him, he could not be convinced.

Until yesterday. Yes, I convinced the toughest skeptic in town.

I think it’s important to start with my journey into the Lukola fandom for context. I was a casual Bridgerton watcher until this season, and had never read the books. I liked season 1, I loved season 2, and I was looking forward to watching season 3.

I had planned to wait to watch the first 4 until the second half was about to launch (so I wouldn’t have to wait for more), but I realized after about a week that we needed to watch it immediately before everything was completely spoiled by timeline gifs and clips.

Needless to say, I was beyond hooked. Instantly. Season 3 was another level for all the reasons you all know. Finally I could engage safely with the fandom, but the process from occasional Polin/Lukola content to nonstop immersion took some time. So even following the second half, there was a TON of footage I hadn’t seen.

All of this to say, I basically missed all of the World Tour stuff as it was happening, and it took well into the summer to finally see so many amazing clips and edits that I was absolutely fucking sucked into the lukola wormhole. However, I was well behind many of you on the curve, and even to this day, I’m still catching up on things.

But by late summer, I was all in. I was sailing high on USS Lukola (or I suppose that should be the HMS Lukola!) because I saw exactly what you all saw. This was clearly real, their feelings were indisputable, and everything about their behavior and much of what they said was so far beyond PR, even “faking couplehood” PR.

They were real. Even if he had this dumb girlfriend. (I say that only in the good-natured, abstract sense that I wanted him with Nic, not in a personal “actually about her” sense. In fact, I’ve never said anything hateful about either A or J and I hope I never will.)

WHY AREN’T THEY TOGETHER???

I couldn’t resist the mystery.

It drove me absolutely crazy for months trying to understand why they weren’t together. Nothing made sense, but I mentally explored literally every possibility. They’re afraid of ruining their friendship? They’re afraid of disrupting the production if it goes wrong? These possibilities at least made some kind of sense and seemed to be the only explanations I could find. But in my mind, they weren’t good enough reasons to resist what these two so obviously had. Still, I’m not them, so that was easy for me to say. I had nothing to risk in this.

One or both of them is/are secretly gay? Soulmate besties instead of soulmate lovers? I didn’t think this was the case and nothing made me believe this. Yet, I was attempting to allow for every possibility. Still, with Nicola being the super vocal “gay icon” that she is, it was hard to imagine she wouldn’t live out and proud if that was the case. And apparently she lived with an unknown man for two years. Though she does always keep her private (romantic) life super private, so I suppose who knows? And, of course, Luke had two very public past relationships with women, but again, who knows, I suppose? This option doesn’t ring true at all, but it does exist in the universe of possible explanations for this inexplicable situation.

They love each other in a soulmate way, but somehow one of them just isn’t “attracted” to the other? Certainly, if the stories about Antonia were true, that might suggest that Luke might be attracted to an entirely different physical type than Nicola. But that didn’t ring true either because LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER! He can’t take his eyes off of her, let alone his hands. And the same for her. They are magnetized to each other. If that’s not attraction, what is?

One of them has baggage and isn’t ready for a real, serious relationship? This one seemed possible. People can have hang-ups or wounds for all sorts of reasons, and letting someone in – especially someone who might actually be your soulmate – can be terrifying. Self-protection by avoiding relationships and/or distracting yourself with less meaningful relationships is a natural way of coping with baggage. Yes, maybe this one? Neither of them seems obviously wounded, but what would I know? Most people don’t wear their wounds on their sleeves, least of all during a PR tour. Still, the energy flow between them seemed anything but wounded. It seemed like the healthiest, happiest thing in the world.

People kept saying, they’re blind and they don’t see it yet. But I don’t believe anyone can be that blind. Especially after watching all the countless edits and clips of their tour, which we know they did because Nicola is chronically online and sharing with Luke the best of it all (and sneaky Luke is likely lurking also).

So at the end of the day, I had no good explanation. It just kept not making sense.

Then those music festival photos of Nic and Jake (I’ll abbreviate sometimes for ease, but I do say their names) showed up. The fandom erupted into chaos with full reactions across the spectrum including a bizarre, almost immediate burst of (not yet named) jakolas, which felt like a disproportionate response to a few photos.

Admittedly, those photos did look quite friendly, and touchy, and yes, they stood arm-in-arm. But lots of friends stand like that at concerts. And Nic is known to be touchy-feely, so let’s not go overboard, I thought. However, I did acknowledge (in my head, I didn’t weigh in online at all) that it suggested that it COULD be romantic. I opted not to freak out, because either way, Nic’s love life is her own and I want her to be happy.

And it’s worth saying here that both of their private lives are none of my business, none of any of our business, and even writing this is completely at odds with that truth. I acknowledge that. But what I told myself, and actually meant it, was that I was going to stay out of it unless and until NicLuke got together. That was the only place I would invest my energy since they’ve both said they think it’s sweet that fans ship them. If they dated others, good luck to them. Be happy. But when the time comes…

Yes, friends, the time has come!!! But back to my story.

Note that (because again, I was still catching up), I hadn’t yet seen the swimming in Sorrento photos and had missed that piece of the puzzle at that point. Throughout this time, I’d see people refer to things on Twitter like everyone already knew what they were talking about, but hardly anyone ever took the time to explain. So I got lots of glimmers of things that others felt were notable, without actually knowing any details. Those pictures were an example. Another was the Claddagh ring.

I’m very grateful to some amazing deep dive blog entries by @threeacttragedy that explained the ring, “Bless the Telephone,” and other meaty, important history that I’d previously only heard mentioned in passing. In fact, one of her blogs is what first brought me here by referral from Twitter. And if you don’t follow her, you should!

In the past week, as I started reading blogs that broke down past dates and clues, I finally started looking them up one by one and trying to put the pieces together in my head. I’d seen the swimming photos by then, but I revisited them. I dug in to try to understand the references to a “New Year kiss” from the night the friend group (Rory, etc.) posted photos together from a Soho House party. I reviewed Hot Boy Summer, I rewatched the incredibly emotional video of Luke meeting Nicola’s mom, I looked at photos of the Claddagh ring and went to Chupi’s website. I learned about the LA photos from April, both Antonia’s version and the InStyle Polaroids. I reviewed all the photos of Luke and Antonia that I could find. And I reviewed all the photos and videos of Nic and Jake that I could find. Also, I listened to “Bless the Telephone” about one hundred times. Lol.

Regarding Luke and Antonia, I had the same response in this deep dive I’ve had every time. Weird. I mean, if I didn’t feel so strongly that Luke was in love with Nicola, and if I knew nothing about him except he was some hot actor, could I see him dating someone like A? Sure. But the fact that there are almost no pictures of them posing together, alone like a couple, is weird. Even if it’s super casual and she was just his date to some stuff. The fact that Luke looks grumpy in both sets of pap photos (premiere night and swimming in Sorrento), but A is smiling happily in at least one of the premiere night photos is weird. The fact that after the Sorrento pap photos, Luke seems to leave his friend group to come home early, and then stops liking any of his best friend Rory’s photos from there on, weird.

The fact that in the fall, she posts pictures harkening back to a place and time they were apparently together, but without any actual photos together, weird. And the continual drip, drip of Likes from Luke is weird. And then when a photo of Luke in a restaurant in Rome is posted by the restaurant, she immediately follows with a video story of someone making pasta in the same restaurant, weird.

Perhaps weirdest of all, the fact that she pre-posted the LA pictures, and then he gave other versions of the same shots to InStyle. Especially the switching seats thing. If my husband and I were taking pics of each other at a café, I’d take his picture in front of the traffic, and he’d take my picture in front of the restaurant, because that’s where we’d be sitting. Across from each other. So why switch seats to take the photos? It’s not like that street with traffic was such a fantastic backdrop that we’d each need our turn with that shot? And they’re the same, with the same table number, but different. Sure, traffic moves, but weird coincidence that they each had a white truck, but a DIFFERENT white truck. So, like I said, weird. Always implying they were together, but never actually saying/showing it. Weird.

I read all sorts of theories from pragmatic (we just have to accept that they’re dating) to hateful (they’re not together/never were, but she’s obsessed and keeps inserting herself in a pathetic, desperate plea for attention and followers) to seemingly far-fetched (some sort of NDA that means for some reason Luke is obligated to Like her photos). Only the first of these seemed plausible. I maybe didn’t like it (not maybe, I didn’t like it at all), but I thought, “Yes, I guess we just have to accept that they’re probably together until they tell us otherwise.”

(Though I held out a small sliver of “but we don’t know anything for sure until L and/or N tell us themselves” hope, which remains true even as I write this.)

Now, let’s talk about Nic and Jake. First, there were those shots from the concert (discussed above). Then, I believe, were the NYC shots (if I’m not confusing the order). In the NYC shots, they were both there, but they weren’t especially intimate in any interpersonal sense. Then, the pap shots on the street posted on DM, ostensibly catching them walking home together, holding hands and arm-in-arm after a night at the pub. With those photos came an onslaught of fandom fury and gossip site reporting about how “Nicola Coughlan confirms her relationship…” Same story runs across a bunch of trashy sites, all saying the same thing and citing an unnamed source talking about how besotted they were, or whatever the quote was.

Admittedly, I was among the furious fans. Not because of what the pictures showed. Again, I was trying to be serene and Zen about them and their private lives. I believed with all my heart that NicLuke belonged together, but if now wasn’t their time, I’d have to wait. I didn’t love that I’d heard he was only 24, but I was trying to balance my efforts to be a non-judgmental person with my discomfort over that issue and reminding myself that her choices are none of my business (unless she chooses Luke!).

So I did my best to refrain from judgment, even as I saw the fandom erupt into toxic madness about whether it was true, whether he was gay, whether the age gap was wrong, whether DM lied about the date, and if they did (which they did), why? But I figured, unless the photos were very, very old, things weren’t likely to have changed in their relationship over a couple weeks, so I wasn’t overly concerned about the date.

However, I was angry about all these stories (basically the same story across the board) announcing that she’d “CONFIRMED” the relationship. It made me very angry that they said she confirmed something when she’d done nothing of the sort. I wasn’t prepared to argue that she wasn’t dating Jake at that point, but why would they all run this story, with this headline, when what actually happened was a paparazzi photographer snapped shots and sold them, then the media drew conclusions from what they saw?

Nicola never confirmed a damn thing. So why were they running this headline so universally?

I was also angry that the photos existed at all. Photos in her neighborhood could reveal her location and put her safety at risk. Also, how did they happen to be there to take those photos late one specific night? Felt like they must have received a tip. But I moved on and forgot about that part.

Time went on and I saw more and more discussion of Jake’s sexuality. I don’t really want to get into that here because I don’t really feel comfortable speculating about anyone unless they choose to explicitly come out, but I did finally start poking around his page, Douglas’s page, etc. and began to understand why people were saying what they were saying. However, I reminded myself that bi/pan-sexuality exists and I wasn’t willing to partake in bi-erasure, so I held my tongue and kept watching.

Now, at this point, I want to remind us all that Nic has always been extremely private and uttered nary a peep in public about her romantic/sexual life. And fair enough. It’s none of our damn business. Also, she’s talked extensively about how women are not just men’s girlfriends and her feminist take on many things and how it doesn’t feel nice to know that people are more interested in her love life than her work. She’s worked freaking hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying, and she certainly should not be reduced to a woman in a relationship. No matter who is on the other end of that relationship.

(Again here, I feel the need to acknowledge my hypocrisy in writing this, but I really do genuinely love Nic’s work and spirit and activism, etc. as well.)

So, in light of her position on all of that, we wouldn’t expect her to go public with a new love interest. The fact that she was papped with this guy (if indeed he was a love interest) was just an indication of how much her celebrity and profile have grown. There’s greater interest now and she’s more recognizable now, so it’s to be expected that she’d have a harder time keeping her love life private now than in the past. Not so strange then, that she got caught a couple times in paparazzi photos at this point.

However, would she really then go public with that guy? That would mark a radical change in her behavior just when you’d think she’d want to be the most private because the glare of the spotlight is brighter than ever. Still, she allowed a public photo with him, Camilla, and Evan Ross Katz to go out shortly thereafter. If one believed they were dating, that could certainly be interpreted as a launch. Yet, as I said, would she really do that if she were dating him?

Then he started popping up everywhere. I won’t get the chronology here right because I don’t want to research the dates right now, but there was the Charlie xcx concert, in which she appeared with Jake and Dylan, who is out and proud. The Queer premiere where he was just caught in the background of a fan photo. The simultaneously released photos from the red and gold restaurant (with a mysterious third person taking the photos). There was the apparently brunch-time photo of her with Jake and two others, taken by Dylan. And most recently, Louisa’s photo with Jake and Douglas (who is also openly gay and close friends, if not more, with Jake).

I’m not mentioning all the players in all of these because it’s not critical to the story, and I may be forgetting some photos, but there is a point to all of this. First, there’s potentially a notable shift in what she’s allowing to be shared here. Again, historically, she’s never shared anything about her love life. Suddenly, she’s letting him be photographed everywhere. Also, at most of these events, there were other queer participants and/or queer content (the movie premiere).

And while she’s never allowed her romantic life to be shared, you know what she has often shared? Photos with all of her platonic friends, including her huge friend group of many, many gay men. So this trend in what she’s allowing to be shared suggests that she’s telling a story and clarifying Jake’s role in her life.

But then there’s that one mystery release, the simultaneously timed restaurant photo drops. Clearly coordinated, clearly indicating they were there together. No indication about the third party. Why? Just enough to hint that there might be something going on, and to continue wreaking havoc in the fandom.

Because remember that toxic fandom bickering over all of this? The jakolas swearing they’re in love and soon to be engaged and furious at the lukolas for “being blind and refusing to accept the truth and it’s so disrespectful to Nic ('who you claim to love') by disregarding her feelings and treating the love of her life so badly. They keep showing you they’re in love and you won’t listen!” Etc., etc.

Meanwhile, the lukolas fall into a couple camps. By this point, most have decided Nic and Jake aren’t dating, but some remain circumspect. Some scream back at the jakolas, ostensibly in defense of Jake, saying very similar things about “Jake and his friends are doing everything in their power to show you the truth and you refuse to see it.” And a variety of other responses. Everyone’s mad at everyone.

And all of it, every bit of it, keeps us ALL talking about Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton. Nonstop, every day.

Now, we are nearing the big mic drop of all of this, and I want to say at this point that we need to remember that Nic and Luke are HUMAN BEINGS who have a right to privacy. And they are celebrities living in a world that has an intense interest in their love lives. And sometimes, we might not feel good about the measures they must take to protect their privacy. We might hate those measures. We might feel manipulated, and we are. But if we love and respect them as much as I hope we all do, we can also understand and forgive them for taking such measures.

A quick review of important factors in all of this:

THINGS THAT TELL US IT’S REAL

The Galway trip and that very emotional introduction to Nic’s mom, which looked for all the world like a woman meeting her future son-in-law

The Claddagh ring and how she’s been wearing it

The things reporters, cast, and crew have said in passing and/or posted, not to mention recent open shipping from Ryan Wheeler and Shondaland’s IG

Everything we saw with our own eyes on the world tour, not to mention everything we’ve seen in the BTS

Little droplets of NicLuke over the recent months like Bless the Telephone and (not yet mentioned above) the S4 selfie and the photo of them in costume that Nic said she thought she’d shared, but now it’s ours (while she hasn’t posted any Jake)

The absolute consistency of all of this as a story that makes sense

THINGS THAT MAKE US DOUBT IT’S REAL AND/OR KEEP US GUESSING AND DISCUSSING

The premiere night pap photos (and though I didn’t mention it earlier, the fact that Nic went home that night so she wasn’t around for A’s attendance)

The friend group photos at Soho House with Luke, A and others

The weird LA InStyle photos

The Sorrento swimming photos

The multiple sets of pap photos of Nic and Jake, including grainy night-time neighborhood photos (with a woman walking a dog in the background)

The way every gossip news outlet ran the same “Nicola confirmed her relationship” story with the same headline and the same anonymous quote

The weirdly devoted, intensely defensive jakolas/Jake stans that seem to care about nothing but Jake/jakola out of nowhere and love screaming at and stirring up shit with lukolas

The chaos and constant discussion of all of this over the past 6+ months

The absolute inconsistency of any of this with anything in the top group

So, this mystery just gets deeper and deeper, and none of it makes sense. Every time I’d try to accept that they were just seeing these other people, something would bump in my head. There were just too many weird things that didn’t quite make sense and the biggest, weirdest one of them all was that NICOLA AND LUKE ARE CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER.

So while the pieces would always almost fit, the puzzle never quite took shape. Until two nights ago when I stumbled on @lukolafan ’s page after they liked one of my posts. I scrolled down their page and found a link labeled “Lukola PR Strategies and Fake Narratives.” I cannot scream this loudly enough. GO VISIT THAT LINK!!!!! (I’ll add the links myself later if I have time.)

I did and it led to a series of Reddit posts taking an academic approach to teaching us, the general public (and lukola fans) PR Media Literacy. Among the various topics it discussed were things like:

“PR Firms and Entertainment Media: Coordinating “News” Across Gossip, Entertainment, and Official Publications,” which talks about using anonymous sources, more about staged paparazzi, and repeated narratives (“outlets echo identical stories, reinforcing PR-approved messaging, for example, multiple outlets platforms describing a celebrity ‘rising above’ a controversy, quoting the same anonymous insider” – Sound familiar?)

“The Invisible Hand of Celebrity Privacy: How PR Fabricates Narratives and Manipulates Fans,” which includes ways that PR strategies intentionally manipulate fans to fight/debate celebs faking relationships, and more (sound familiar?)

There’s honestly so much meat in all of these (there are a couple others as well) that they are ALL worth reading. There is definitely some repetition, but still, the content is super insightful and revealing and can help us all be more savvy consumers of media.

But I want to focus on two CRITICAL posts, in particular.

“The Role of Staged Paparazzi and Gossip Outlets in Celebrity PR Campaigns”

The first part of this piece talks about the method for staging fake paparazzi photos to create narratives. Two items of particular note (and I’m excerpting directly):

Quality Control of the Image: While professional photographers use high-quality cameras, staged paparazzi photos are intentionally manipulated to appear grainy or blurry. This adds a layer of authenticity to the photo, making it look as though the photographer stumbled upon the celebrity by chance.

Extra Figures in the Background: Another key tactic in staged paparazzi photos involves the use of background extras—people who might be walking with dogs, pushing strollers, or simply in the vicinity.

Think of Nicola’s photos walking home with Jake, a woman walking a dog behind them. Some of them are clear, but some are quite grainy, despite the fact that professional photographers have great equipment and are more than capable of taking a night-time shot.

Another excerpt…

Gossip Outlets: DeuxMoi and the Symbiotic Relationship with PR Firms

With the rise of user-generated content and anonymously submitted tips, gossip websites have become integral to the modern celebrity PR machine. Sites like DeuxMoi thrive on rumors and speculation, providing a platform for fans and anonymous sources to share celebrity gossip. PR teams exploit these platforms to feed their desired narratives without appearing to directly control the flow of information.

How Gossip Sites Like DeuxMoi Work:

Anonymous Tips and Leaks: PR teams often send anonymous tips to gossip outlets, offering details about celebrity activities or sightings. These tips are deliberately vague, leaving room for interpretation and speculation. Once posted on sites like DeuxMoi, the stories tend to snowball as they are shared across social media and republished by larger outlets.

Fueling Speculation: These posts generate buzz and speculation, keeping celebrities in the public eye without any direct confirmation. Gossip sites become a key player in amplifying the narrative, as fans, influencers, and media outlets continue to discuss and spread the information.

Mutual Benefits: While gossip sites operate independently, there is a mutual benefit to the relationship between them and PR teams. Gossip sites thrive on traffic and engagement, while PR teams can ensure their client’s name stays relevant in the public discourse. By subtly feeding stories, PR teams maintain control over how their celebrity’s narrative unfolds.

The piece goes on to give specific examples like Kendall Jenner and Bad Bunny, Tomdaya, Gigi Hadad and Zayne Malik, etc. then talks about fake fan interactions and how to spot them.

It offers key questions to ask about the photos you see (like what story is it telling and why and who benefits?) and then it gives this example. If your ears aren’t already fully perked, this will do it:

Example: 37-Year-Old Famous Actress and 24-Year-Old Lesser-Known Celebrity

Narrative of Romance or Distraction: In this case, the 37-year-old actress is likely fueling rumors of a relationship with the 24-year-old to either distract from something else in her personal life (like a real romantic partner) or to refresh her public image. The younger celebrity could be hired to play a temporary love interest or interest figure in the media, leading people to speculate whether they are more than just friends.

Creating a Romance or Mystery: The photo of them walking arm-in-arm, laughing, or holding hands might suggest that a romantic connection exists. This could be used to make the actress seem more relatable, desirable, or single, even if there is no romantic involvement behind the scenes.

Diverting Public Focus: If the actress is privately in a relationship with another celebrity or involved in an ongoing controversy, the staged photo with the younger celebrity helps to deflect attention. By inserting a "mystery romance," the public is more interested in who the new partner is, leaving the actress’s real partner or issues to stay out of the spotlight.

PR Stunt to Revitalize Publicity: The actress might not just be looking for romantic gossip but also fresh exposure. A curated paparazzi shot could serve as a PR tool to keep the actress's name in circulation—be it through romantic rumors, new partnerships, or simply new media content to fuel speculation.

Potential Body Double for Real Partner: If the real partner is shying away from the public eye or trying to avoid the media, the younger celebrity might act as a "body double" or decoy. This helps maintain an image of the actress being in a public relationship, while allowing her to keep the real relationship.

Don’t think I need to explain the relevance of this very specific example. There’s a lot more in the post, but I’ll move on for now to the next key post.

“Breadcrumbing and Coordinated Campaigns”

In this piece, they offer first some key breadcrumbing tactics, many of which sound awfully familiar.

Common Types of Breadcrumbs:

Cryptic Social Media Posts: Celebrities post vague messages or abstract references, sparking fan theories. Example: Harry Styles posts cryptic images or quotes, prompting speculation.

Coordinated Social Media Timing: PR teams synchronize posts to create the illusion of a shared narrative. Example: Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss posted similar content at the same time, fueling relationship rumors.

Accidental Social Media Interactions: Liking posts or commenting on ambiguous tweets creates intimacy and speculation. Example: Kendall Jenner engages with fans on social media, fueling rumors.

Seemingly Innocent Photos: Casual photos subtly hint at a larger narrative. Example: Zendaya and Tom Holland posted photos together, teasing their relationship.

Cryptic? Like Bless the Telephone? Or a mysterious left-handed guy holding a phone in the background while Nic gets ready?

Synchronized like Nic and Jake at that restaurant? Or as far as that goes, like Nic and Luke with the S4 selfie?

Accidental social media interactions? I didn’t go into that here, but we’ve seen lots of odd likes and things, lots of Nic interactions, oh, and those RW and SL likes of late.

Seemingly innocent photos. Like very happy looking S4 pics and the “now it’s yours” BTS photo?

Perhaps most of this could be interpreted as just genuine fan interaction and fan service, which I think it is to some extent. It’s a natural part of the business. But it’s also very often done with intention.

But here’s the more important part of this piece. It gives some case studies (Ben and JLo, Shawn and Camila), then it gives two “abstract” examples.

YOU’LL LOVE THIS. Note that the second example changes to an actor and a musician, but don’t let that fool you. Keep reading for some unmistakable specifics.

Breadcrumbing with a Fake PR Girlfriend: Case Study of Celebrity 007

For Celebrity 007, breadcrumbing is used to create a false narrative about a relationship with a PR girlfriend. This helps maintain fan interest while deflecting attention from the celebrity’s true personal life.

How It Works:

First Breadcrumbs: The PR strategy begins with posts from both the celebrity and the PR girlfriend, hinting at a connection without confirming it. Example: Celebrity 007 posts a picture from a Paris restaurant or cafe in LA and the PR girlfriend shares a similar post from the same location but from a different day with different white trucks in the background (double check the Instyle Stunt images!!!)

Expanding the Narrative: Shared travel posts and indirect interactions continue the illusion of a relationship. Example: Matching geo-tags in posts from Rome suggest they were there together.

Indirect Engagement: Likes, comments, and ambiguous interactions increase intrigue without confirming the relationship. Example: The PR girlfriend comments, “Great to be here with you! 💖,” on Celebrity 007's post.

Paparazzi Shots: Carefully timed candid shots further reinforce the illusion of a relationship. Example: Paparazzi photos of Celebrity 007 and the PR girlfriend walking hand-in-hand, fueling speculation.

Note:

Café in LA, same location, different trucks?

Matching tags in Rome?

Likes and ambiguous interactions

Carefully timed (say at a premiere party) candid paparazzi shops w gf walking hand-in-hand

And then there’s the next one. In the interest of length since this is already hella long, I’ve removed some less relevant parts, but I encourage you to read it yourself.

Breadcrumbing to Hide a Real Relationship: Case Study of Celebrity 009

Why Hide the True Relationship?

In celebrity culture, the decision to keep a relationship private—or hidden—can be a strategic move, driven by a mix of personal privacy and professional interests. Some celebrities may choose to share their personal lives openly, but for others, particularly those who value their privacy or wish to control their public image, keeping a relationship private is key. This is especially relevant for two celebrities who are romantically involved but prefer to maintain discretion, despite public curiosity about their relationship.

Whether it’s a high-profile couple like Beyoncé and Jay-Z, or a less conspicuous pairing, the decision to hide the true nature of a romantic relationship often involves balancing personal desires with career strategy. In this scenario, let’s explore why two celebrities might choose to keep their relationship under wraps and the complex PR considerations that lead them to do so.

Media Scrutiny/Escaping Constant Surveillance: Navigating the Spotlight Together (I’ve combined two sections here for length)

When two celebrities become romantically involved, the media will inevitably take notice. The relationship can quickly become the focal point of constant headlines, paparazzi photos, and gossip columns. For celebrities who value their privacy, this level of scrutiny can feel overwhelming, as every public appearance or moment shared can quickly turn into speculation, even if the couple doesn’t wish to attract attention.

Romanticized Expectations: The Pressure of Perfection

Media scrutiny often creates an unrealistic, romanticized version of a celebrity relationship. Fans and the public tend to project their fantasies onto famous couples, imagining them as the perfect, unbreakable pairing. The real complexities of a relationship—differences, compromises, and struggles—often don't fit neatly into the idealized narratives created by the public.

For a couple like Actor A and Musician B, the pressure to live up to these idealized expectations can be exhausting. By choosing to keep their relationship private, they can avoid the constant pressure to fit into a preconceived mold. Hiding the relationship from public view allows them to keep things grounded and avoid being turned into a media spectacle.

Brand Control: Managing the Image of "Singleness" or "Availability"

For many celebrities, their public image is closely tied to their brand, and that brand may depend on their perceived "availability" or their status as desirable, unattached individuals. The way the public perceives a celebrity’s romantic life—whether they are single, dating, or in a long-term relationship—can have a significant impact on their professional success and marketability.

Creating Room for Desire: The Allure of the Single Celebrity

Consider Actor A, a leading man known for portraying romantic heroes on screen. The public’s perception of Actor A as a single, unattainable figure is key to their marketability, both in the media and as a brand. If they were to publicly reveal a relationship with Musician B, it could diminish that aura of unattainability. Similarly, Musician B may want to maintain a flirtatious public persona, which could be undermined if they were publicly involved with someone. By keeping the relationship private, both celebrities retain the allure of being desirable and unattached, feeding into the fantasies of their fans.

Avoiding the "Couple" Brand: Risk of Being Reduced to a Package Deal

When a high-profile couple’s relationship is made public, they may become known less for their individual work and more for their collective identity as a couple. In some cases, the couple's public appearances or shared brand messages may overshadow their individual projects. Think of Beyoncé and Jay-Z, who have an incredibly powerful couple brand that often eclipses their solo endeavors in the media. For celebrities like Actor A and Musician B, the fear of being seen as a "package deal" might drive them to hide their relationship. This allows both to maintain their distinct identities, keeping their projects and brands separate and preventing the public from viewing them solely as a pair.

Respecting Boundaries: The Vulnerability of Celebrity Relationships

Even when two celebrities are involved, the vulnerabilities of a relationship can become the focus of media attention if they go public. Romantic relationships—especially those in the high-pressure world of celebrity—are often fraught with ups and downs. The public might demand to know every detail, fueling rumors of breakups, infidelities, or relationship drama. By keeping their romance under wraps, Actor A and Musician B can avoid becoming the subject of constant gossip and can maintain some semblance of normalcy in their private lives.

Avoiding Disruptive Publicity

Celebrity relationships often attract media scrutiny not only about their romantic lives but also about how their relationship affects their careers. The public and the media often delve into the smallest details, speculating about how the relationship might impact their professional trajectories, previous relationships, or future projects.

Career Disruption: The Challenge of Balancing Love and Work

For celebrities like Musician B, a new relationship can take attention away from their upcoming album release or concert tour. The media’s obsession with their personal life might overshadow the launch of a new professional project. Similarly, if Actor A is in the middle of promoting a film or preparing for a big role, the press could focus more on their relationship than their craft, disrupting the flow of their work.

I won’t bother reviewing the relevance of all of the above. I’m sure you can see it plainly for yourself. The examples are absolutely, positively referencing Nicola and Luke, and the reasons for hiding it are super relevant. Especially boundaries, disruption, pressure to be perfect, and being reduced to a package deal.

Now at this point, it’s worth asking the question, do we trust this source? I don’t actually know who posted this content, so I can’t verify their credentials. Perhaps this is yet another PR person’s tricky efforts to continually confuse us and keep us guessing? That seems unlikely since the entire purpose is to help lift the veil on all the other tricks. If you wanted the other tricks to be effective, you’d hardly be revealing them to your target audiences.

But even setting that very logical assumption aside, the reason I know with every fiber of my being that it’s true is that this is literally the only version of events that makes sense of absolutely everything.

All those mysterious and confusing signals, all those weird photos and changes in behavior, all the inconsistencies between what we all saw with our own eyes (they are IN LOVE) and what we saw subsequently with the adjacents, all the tiny Lukola crumbs keeping us hanging on, and all the fandom bickering, especially from bizarrely rabid jakolas.

Every bit of it makes complete sense if we accept that Nic, Luke, and their PR teams have been using a classic PR handbook to distract us from the very real truth that they are together and in love.

Does it hurt to know we’ve been manipulated? You bet it does! But I quickly accepted that because I was so happy to have the truth verified at last. And because I understand why they would do it.

Relationships are hard enough when lived in private. No relationship, no matter how much people love each other, is without challenge. Even soulmates have issues to navigate. Can you imagine the pressure on them if the whole world was watching?

And their lives have added challenges. Travel and separation. Long work schedules that may often be at odds. Possibly romantic scenes with future co-stars that could stir up uncomfortable feelings. Career ups and downs that may not always synch up. Fans and media watching their every move, dissecting them, judging them, rooting for them, and just putting massive pressure on them. What if they fail? They’re letting down the whole world, not just themselves.

And what about Nic’s longstanding demand for privacy? And her emphasis that no woman is just some dude’s girlfriend. She wants to be known for her own work and achievement and passions, not for who she dates or marries. Even if it is wonderful Luke.

Likewise, Luke is just now achieving a newfound level of success. This is a moment for him to seize and make the most of. Being a hot, sexy, ostensibly single guy is good for his brand right now. Even if we know he loves Nicola, his stans need to be able to fantasize about him, which is easier if his relationship is unconfirmed.

And let’s face it, if they come out as a couple, IT WILL BE LUKOLA all the time. That will be the story. Certainly if they’d come out during the World Tour, every question at every stop would be about them and their personal “friends to lovers story.” It would be irresistible to reporters. Too good a story to ignore. And they’d spend way more time talking about their personal lives than about their work. Does that sound like something either of them would want?

And one last thing. Back to their changes in behavior. Does it make more sense that Nicola, who has always been super private about her love life, would suddenly be willing to be photographed constantly with her new bf Jake? Or that Jake is not her bf and she’s keeping her actual bf (or fiancé or husband) secret?

Meanwhile, Luke, who has always been open about his relationships in the past suddenly decides to tighten up and share absolutely nothing about his private life? Well, that makes complete sense if he’s now in a relationship with a woman who is famously private and shares not one word publicly. Suddenly, literally everything makes sense and is entirely consistent.

So there it is, folks. To me, this is the Holy Grail. There’s not a doubt left in my mind about them. They’re together and everything else – literally everything else – is a decoy and a distraction, and every bit of it comes straight from the PR playbook.

I’d like to maintain a sliver of hope that they’re leaving much of it to their teams and they’re not in on the worst of it, but in any case, I don’t blame them one bit for trying to protect their love. It’s too special to let it be destroyed by public consumption. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Given that I don’t actually know them and haven’t confirmed anything directly, I’ll leave 1.5% room for doubt, and adjust my certainty to 98.5%.

And you may dismiss all of this and draw very different conclusions, which is okay, too. But if I’m being really honest, I’m actually 1,000% sure. And I couldn’t be happier for them.

What do we do now? That’s up to each of us. Personally, I’m going to be blissfully happy for them, not sweat any of the distractions, let them live as quietly as they like, and patiently await the day (whether it’s very soon or far in the future) when they finally go public. I hope you’ll do the same.

And until then, I’m going to keep watching Lukola videos on repeat.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #polin #polin bridgerton #nicluke #lukola is real #I've never been more sure of anything #then again #But it's all true and I can prove it

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ego13 · 2 months ago

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𑜷 ” 因為 𝑺HE SAID '𝑭UCK ME LIKE IM FAMOUS' – 𝑨UDI𝒁 X FEM!READER | 𖥻˙.⭒

𖥻˙.⭒ https://now_playing : 𝚌hase atlanti𝚌 - OKAY

˳ ୭ ꕀ https://synopsis : coming to another boring party, you found yourself a wonderful company with whom you didn’t mind retiring in the spare room of the mansion.

ʾ ִ𓏸 𝆬‌ ۪ . https://warnings : lesbian sex, threesome, sex tape, thigh riding, sloppy sex, hickeys, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, fingering, sex with strangers, loud sex, praise kink, service top!audiz

ˑ ִ ֗𖧷 https://pairing : yu jimin x uchinaga aeri x reader

ᨦ꒰ ៸៸ ꒱ https://authors_note : this is the stupidest thing I've ever written, so excuse the poor writing, I'm having writer's block right now, and it's hard for me to come up with something better. <3

༄ ₊ ꒷https://word_count : 1,9k

L0AD1NG . .

loud music, flashing lights and the voices of drunk people are what surrounded you at the moment, in principle, such an environment has long been commonplace for you, and perhaps someone feels uncomfortable being in such companies, but not you, because your brain already subconsciously felt as if you were really where you should be.

so, having dragged yourself to another party for the sake of free booze, you entered the mansion that you had already known for a long time, you met the owner of this house a long time ago, but it was only recently that you led such a riotous lifestyle by going to such events, after all, you are an ordinary student who spends hours studying and prays every day to think about something other than papers, textbooks and exams.

after another hard day at school, your legs instinctively carried you along the corridor, in search of the door from where this loud music was flowing, and finally the cherished gates opened, and dozens of drunken people appeared before your eyes, and grinning, you were anticipating how you yourself would soon find yourself in a similar state of nirvana, so finding an 'impromptu' bar which consisted of an ordinary table and a dozen bottles standing on it.

you approached the guy standing at the table, he smiled when he saw you, because it was clearly not the first time he had seen you, and you didn’t even have to say anything before his hands independently took the plastic red cup in his hands, pouring colored alcoholic liquid into it, holding it out with such a smile, "so, because of the booze here again?” he asked, picking up his cup and taking a few small sips, "you know, it's better to go to parties for the sake of drinking, and not in the hope that someone will fuck with you."

he playfully rolled his eyes, realizing that the hint was about him, "come on, I won't get anything tonight anyway, so let's just have a drink," you clink cups, and you drank all the contents in one gulp, causing him a pleasant surprise, "what are you, a professional alcoholic? I've never seen a girl who downs half a glass of liquor in one go." you playfully pushed him on the shoulder before grabbing the first bottle you came across, pouring the contents into your cup as you walked away from the table deeper into the dance floor.

still, drinking alcohol in one gulp is clearly not the best idea for you, because a few minutes after you left the bar, you felt your head pleasantly spinning, and as a result, you didn’t notice how you accidentally bumped into an unfamiliar pink-haired girl standing with her back to you.

you immediately began to apologize, saying that it happened by accident, but before you could finish half the sentence, you saw how she turns to face you, and behind her you can see another girl who puts her elbow on her shoulder, "baby, is everything okay?" asked the pink-haired girl, in whose voice there was absolutely no hint of anger, rather, on the contrary, her voice was so calm that it literally intoxicated, "hey, why don't we take care of such a beautiful girl? we see that you are alone here, so why not fix it?"

your evening sucked so much that hearing these words, you only enthusiastically said “yes, please", and upon hearing permission, you felt both girls’ arms wrap around your waist, helping you move away from the dance floor and up to the second floor of the house. the three of you walked along a corridor with a bunch of doors, while the dark-haired girl randomly opened all the doors that came to hand, someone was sleeping, someone was fucking, and she was quietly swearing under her breath, because they urgently needed this fucking spare room, which is finally there, and they both push you needily into it, closing the door from the inside.

in an instant, you found yourself sitting on uchinaga’s lap, while yu’s predatory hands explored your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone, you felt how she ran her fangs along the milky and tender skin, knocking out the first quiet moan from you, obviously not the last for this evening.

you feel the warmth of aeri's breath settling on your rosy face. your fidgets in place and shyly fiddles with the bottom of your black dress in your damp fingers, her gaze penetrates you to your core, making you involuntarily tense and bring trembling hips together. it starts to pulsate between your legs.

jimin finally exhales loudly. the heat mercilessly makes its way to your aching groin and she grabs your dress with her fingertips, exposing a strip of skin on your stomach, "look at her, so fuckin' pretty..." uchinaga only grunted in response, looking at you with interest, greedily licking her lips when her gaze fell on the bare skin of your stomach.

your arms suddenly weaken, as if a huge weight is falling on you, but jimin continues to lift your dress until you are left in just your underwear. your dress flies somewhere into the corner of the room, because now you definitely don’t need it, you feels with your skin how their eyes is crawling scrutinizingly and greedily over your trembling body, and it’s suddenly so exciting, so nervous, and you could swear that no one in your life looked at you like that, and you never felt so wanted in your life.

aeri's palms immediately find themselves on your hot cheeks, in whose eyes adoration and reverence are unmistakably discernible, "you are incredible, princess, so needy, good girl..."

jimin's palms slide over the delicate skin around the ribs and freeze under the seductive small roundness. you sucks in your stomach and sighs heavily, while your skin is covered with goosebumps from the feeling of the hot hands of both girls on your body.

uchinaga's eyes sparkle with anticipation when she inquisitively looks into your ruddy face, at the same instant, her palms carefully grasp your breasts, completely covering them, and with her thumbs she circle the wrinkled nipples, lips, at the same moment cover her sensitive nipple, pulling it deep into the mouth and rolling it between the teeth.

a long-awaited moan escaped your lips again, pressing your breasts into aeri’s face, at the same moment you felt how the lips of jimin, who was behind, left a trail of wet kisses and bites along your spine, while her hands were on your waist, holding you in her pink haired lap.

aeri impulsively squeezes the delicate skin with her fingers, and more demandingly closes her lips on the tense lump of flesh, you choke on a groan and nod desperately, squinting your eyelids and grabbing the girl’s shoulders with shaking palms, she naturally grins and impatiently places her hands on your ass, squeezing it slightly.

trembling all over and whimpering softly from sensitivity and painful sharp outbreaks from unexpected tingling sensations, you spread your legs wider and slowly lower yourself onto her exposed knee, pressing your wet crotch tightly against it and bending your lower back pliantly, "come on, sweetheart, move a little, like that... good girl."

you strains the internal muscles of your cunt, which rapidly contract, pushing out the lubricant more actively, from the girl’s approving tone and presses your groin harder into your in the hope of a long-awaited relief, you moan loudly and again sits heavily on top of the girl, responsively pushing towards her hot and demanding mouth.

aeri's breath is pounding heavily, a dull rhythm beating in her ears as she tries in vain to pull herself together, but you can only more persistently suck on your breasts and press your seductively swaying hips to yourself as tightly as possible.

you throw your head back and part your dry lips to let a quiet moan escape them, finally feeling the long-awaited climax, while yu's hands continued to hold your trembling body, helping you stay in one position, whispering in your ear in a quiet and hoarse voice about how well you did and how good you were.

her strong hands helped you get up from your knees, her strong hands helped you get up from aeri’s lap, carefully laying you on the bed, while uchinaga's hand reached into the pocket of her pants, taking out her phone from there, opening the camera app, placing it on the bedside table so that the three of you could be seen, "well, princess, let's make this night a little more fun?"

a shiver of anticipation runs down your back, and a hot wave settles between your thighs again, you whine pitifully and spread your legs further, allowing jimin's hand to slide under your underwear, she carefully pulls off her already soaked black panties from your rounded hips, she kisses the sunken belly, inhaling the faint aroma of your desire, as uchinaga positioned herself behind you, allowing you to rest your back on her, her hands slid to your breasts, squeezing them lightly, enjoying your languid sighs and needy whines.

you whine pitifully and pleadingly again, and jimin makes her way to the wet flesh, impatiently penetrating inside the delicate folds, teasing your clit with her tongue, squeezing your thighs in her hands, leaving red prints of her palms on them. your back arches when her skillful tongue touches you there, and mixed with the aeri's touches, who continued to play with your breasts, burning the tender skin of your collarbone with my breath. finally, yu’s tongue slid inside you, pushing so deeply that you couldn’t even imagine that someone could touch you there.

it only took you a few damn minutes before your back arched to the point of a crunch, and a loud moan escaped your lips, repeating the name of both girls like a mantra, pulling away from you, the black-haired girl greedily licks her lips, licking the remnants of your taste from them, which made you blush even more, "you're so delicious, it seems to me that I could eat you all the time and never get tired of it," these words made uchinaga giggle, moving his lips to your earlobe, "hey, jimin-nie, don't make our girl even more embarrassed."

just as you were about to relax, you felt the pink haired hand slide down your stomach, a slight shiver runs through her body, and she rubs the slippery spot harder with the pad of her thumb, you cry out quietly as she slowly slides into her, pushing deeper, all the way to the knuckles, you squeeze her finger with your muscles. aeri freezes with her whole body, feeling resistance, "shh, princess, relax, okay? you're doing so well..." she kisses your rosy cheek and circles her sensitive clit with her thumb.

you clearly wants to say something, but chokes on another moan and a sharp slurping thrust. now two long fingers confidently slide in you, jimin's hands held your thighs, not allowing you to close them, despite your desperate attempts to do so, "baby, everything is fine, yeah, just relax..."

after her shameless statement, you sob subtly, gently squeezing her fingers, and carefully kiss aeri on the lips, in response to which yu's lips gently kissed the back of your neck, "good girl... should we continue, huh?"

after these words you realized that the night is still damn long, and a wonderful company of two damn sexy girls and several hours of damn porn on aeri's phone awaits you...

#gg x reader #girl group x reader #wlw #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #giselle x reader #giselle x fem reader #aespa smut #kpop smut #sapphic #karina #giselle

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xitsensunmoon · 2 years ago

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They are having a tea party!

Artfight mass attack on @silvermizuki @venomous-qwille @chocolateseeds @ilsole @just-a-drawing-bean @nebuladreamz @garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius

Close ups!

Did this attack kill me? Yes. I think I spent more than 5 days on this. Will I do more artfight attacks? Also yes :)

Process under the cut because why not?..

I used a reference photo of some random theater play. And I will be honest that reference literally started it all because it was perfect for multiple characters. You can see similar poses and lighting as well lol

It's funny you can't see Razzle here because I was trying hard to hide from Bean that I included him ahahaha

Me struggling with bg... And all the characters too hahha. Have no idea why I chose such complicated designs together (well, some of them are complicated yeah)

Lined and ready... My friends were like "you aren't going to colour it, right?" Right.

I finished rendering bg first, surprisingly it took me only two hours and one layer haha. I see some mistakes already but was too eager to finally be done with it. Not gonna show bg separately because I don't want it to be used anywhere but here <3 Then I layed out all the colours(the fact that some details died with final render always kills me from inside slightly<//3) and shaded the characters. Each character took me from 20-40 minutes, depending on how complicated their design and lighting were. I was really determined to make every character look good in their own environment, like on close ups, but also to make the whole thing work as whole too.

Funny how ugly it looks without final effects too lmao. The final pic you have already saw. Thanks for attention<3

#moondrop #fnaf moondrop #fnaf moon #moondrop fnaf #moon fnaf #fnaf eclipse #eclipse fnaf #razzle eclipse #razzle dazzle eclipse #dca fnaf #fnaf dca #dca fandom #dca oc #fnaf oc #daycare attendant oc #daycare attendant #my art #probably not gonna draw anything for next few days dkdjja i need a fucking break #id in alt text

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userm4x · 1 year ago

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laundry list of lusail track's sins:

the FIA changes track limits on turns 12/13 by around 80 cm to try limit damage to tyres (this leads to the addition of an extra 10 minute practice session directly before qualifying for the sprint race. on a weekend with only 1 hour of free practice anyway)

the FIA implements limit of a maximum of 18 laps on any 1 set of tyres due to the curbs & track surface literally shaking the tyres to the point of structural damage (this leads to a minimum of 3 pitstops for all drivers during the race)

nico rosberg reports that pirelli informed the FIA of possible tyre issues in Qatar and the warning was reportedly ignored (he revealed this live on Sky F1)

george russel opens his visor during pitstops to try get some air onto his face

both george russel and lando norris are recorded fanning themselves and steering with their wrists at 300 km/hr down the main straight due to heat

george russel reports after the race that he felt as though he was going to pass out multiple times. he felt as though he was in a sauna from around lap 20, except he had no way to escape the heat as someone in a sauna can

logan sargeant retired due to feeling ill, likely exacerbated due to the heat. he was carried out of the garage by his mechanics

max verstappen and oscar piastri are both unable to remain standing in the cool down room after finishing ("does anyone have a wheelchair?")

alex albon has to be helped out of his car after finishing the race

alex albon was then taken to the medical centre and treated for acute heat exposure

fernando alonso asks for water to be poured on him during a pit stop as his 'seat is burning' him

fernando alonso then reports after the race that he has a legitimate burn on the left side of his ass due to the heat

esteban ocon reports beginning throwing up in his helmet on lap 15, and this then continuing for two laps (and does so only at the end of the race)

lance stroll is taken in an ambulance for medical attention after finishing the race

lance stroll then says that he ended up with so many track limits infringements within the last five laps because of the fact that he could no longer see the white line due to how often he was passing out in high speed corners

valtteri bottas described the race as "torture" after finishing

yuki tsunoda reports that he opened his visor to try to cool down his face and instead of air, sand flew in

charles leclerc says he saw many drivers appearing seriously unwell in parc ferme after the race

charles leclerc also describes the race as being "twice as bad as singapore"

nico hulkenberg left the media pen after only two questions as he desperately needed to cool down

lando norris reports that 2 or 3 drivers took themselves to the medical centre because of dehydration concerns. several fainted once inside

jack doohan says that the lack of action and radio messages during the race is likely due to the lapses in cognition from severe dehydration due to heat

#hey guys. this is insane #jack doohan #valtteri bottas #george russel #fernando alonso #yuki tsunoda #esteban ocon #max verstappen #lando norris #lance stroll #oscar piastri #qatar gp 2023 #f1 #formula 1 #beth posts #tw vomit

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levandright · 2 months ago

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And oh, how I'd love to go Paris again

pairing : jake x f!reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : non-idol au, love at first sight, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers(not stated but heavily implied), tension, they're in love your honor, fate reference/mention, can be read as either hs or uni au its up to you ୨ৎ word count : 5.9k

synopsis. you're overwhelmed with your school finals close by, while you are taking a short break from your studying, you couldn't help but reminisce about your precious memories in the city of love when a song that reminds you of your time in paris play. ୨ৎ lev notes : the class trip may not be 100% accurate but its for the plot okay... i had to make it inspired by the 1975 cause i love them too much not to do so + it fits with how i literally have them as my top artist this year :3 (i started writing this days earlier before spotify wrapped lol) also i literally had paris on loop for like 7 hours in total while writing this... anyways hope y'all like this cause it took a lot of brain power to write it, trust i will post what the heart wants as soon as i finish a surprise fic im working on rn ꒰⠀for @sugarikiz event 'ʏᴏᴜʀ ℰ𝓎ℯ𝓈 ᴏɴʟʏ ☁︎.𖥔 ' ꒱

you're at your school's library, cramming for your upcoming finals. with a little over a week to prepare for months' worth of lessons across multiple subjects, the pressure is taking quite a toll on you. two cups of coffee sit beside your laptop, one already empty. even though you've been studying for less than 40 minutes, you already feel the urge to down all the caffeine left in front of you just to keep from dozing off again.

sigh, 'just gotta finish this whole powerpoint. then, i can finally relax for a bit' you silently hype yourself out. with the reward of a break for an hour of studying, you quickly go through the entire lesson in a flash.

grabbing the not empty cup of coffee, you take a much needed sip to keep yourself awake for more hours of studying.

a while later, you're stretching in your seat after having finished with that specific powerpoint. 'finally i can take a break' you think to yourself

as you sit, and stare at your laptop's screen. contimplating on what to do to pass time, you decide to play music to relax yourself.

clicking the shuffle button on your playlist. you put your headphones on and rest your head on your arms, as the familiar tune of paris by the 1975 play.

the music pulls you into a memory, that unforgettable class trip to paris.

꒰ and oh, how i'd love to go paris again ꒱

you’re on the bus, the city outside the window slowly coming to life. everyone in your class is chatting excitedly, pointing out landmarks and planning what to do when you finally get off. the eiffel tower is getting closer, its towering frame making your heart race with excitement.

“can you believe we’re actually here?” keeho says, leaning over to nudge your shoulder. his energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile.

hyunjin, sitting across the aisle, snaps a quick photo through the window. “this already feels unreal,” he says, grinning. “i’m going to fill my camera roll today.”

the bus comes to a stop, and your teacher announces a short break to explore the area. the three of you quickly stick together as everyone spills out onto the cobblestone street. paris feels alive—the air smells like fresh bread and coffee, and the chatter of locals blends with the hum of passing cars.

“we need food. let’s find a café!” keeho declares, already marching toward a row of cozy-looking places with outdoor seating.

you follow, laughing as hyunjin drags you by the wrist to keep up. he’s scanning every building, taking quick snapshots of anything that catches his eye. “wait, stand here,” he says suddenly, pulling out his phone to snap a candid photo of you and keeho in front of a flower shop.

“are you going to take pictures the whole trip?” you tease.

“obviously,” hyunjin replies, unbothered. “someone has to document how good we look in paris.”

eventually, the three of you settle at a small café. the waiter brings over menus, and you all take a moment to soak it all in. keeho orders a slice of cake, hyunjin gets a croissant and coffee, and you decide on a simple baguette sandwich.

“okay, this is officially the best food i’ve ever had,” keeho says after his first bite.

“it’s just cake,” hyunjin says, rolling his eyes but stealing a forkful anyway.

you laugh as they bicker, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. sitting there with your best friends, surrounded by the magic of paris, everything feels perfect.

after finishing your meals, you and your friends head back to the bus to regroup with your class. the energy is buzzing as everyone talks about their plans for the rest of the day. your teacher announces that the next stop is a famous museum nearby.

the museum is grand, with high ceilings and beautiful architecture that makes you feel small in the best way. inside, it’s quieter, with your classmates dispersing into smaller groups.

hyunjin immediately pulls out his camera again. “this lighting is perfect,” he mutters, snapping a photo of a sculpture in the corner.

keeho rolls his eyes with a smirk. “he’s gonna be like this the whole time.”

“he’s consistent, at least,” you joke, earning a laugh from keeho as the two of you start wandering through the exhibits together.

the artwork is stunning—paintings that feel alive, sculptures that seem to breathe. you and keeho take your time strolling through the halls, sharing your thoughts on each piece.

“i don’t get this one,” keeho says, staring at an abstract painting.

“it’s open to interpretation,” you reply.

“so… the artist spilled paint everywhere?”

you nudge his arm. “be serious!”

keeho grins but then glances around. “hey, i’m gonna find the bathroom real quick. don’t get lost.”

“sure, sure,” you say, waving him off.

as he walks away, you wander aimlessly, letting your feet carry you through the museum’s winding halls. you stop to admire a large painting of a serene countryside when, out of nowhere, you bump into someone.

“oh, i’m so sorry!” you blurt out, taking a step back.

the stranger turns to you, and your words catch in your throat. he’s tall, with warm eyes and a gentle smile. his presence feels calm, yet somehow magnetic.

“no worries,” he says, his voice warm and calm, with a hint of an australian accent you catch right away. “are you okay?”

you nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “y-yeah, i wasn’t looking where i was going.”

he chuckles lightly, brushing it off. “happens to the best of us.”

he pauses for a moment, as if waiting to see if you’ll say anything else. you manage a small smile. “thanks for being so nice about it. i’m—uh…” before you can finish, keeho’s voice rings out from somewhere nearby.

“hey, y/n! where’d you go?”

the spell is broken, and you glance over your shoulder to see keeho waving at you. turning back to the stranger, you offer an apologetic smile. “that’s my friend. i should go.”

“of course,” he says, still smiling. “take care.”

you hurry off toward keeho, your heart still racing. as you rejoin your friends, you glance back briefly to see the stranger walking away. something about the moment lingers, a small spark you can’t quite explain.

after regrouping with keeho and hyunjin, the three of you continue exploring the museum. hyunjin has finally tucked his camera away, much to keeho’s relief.

“didn’t think i’d ever see the day you’d stop taking pictures,” keeho teases.

“i’m just saving space for later,” hyunjin retorts, grinning. “besides, i want to actually enjoy this.”

the three of you move through the museum, pausing at different exhibits. keeho offers more of his hilarious “critiques,” while hyunjin points out details you might’ve missed. for a while, it feels like time doesn’t exist, just the three of you soaking in the beauty of parisian art.

after some time, you excuse yourself to find the restroom. as you leave, keeho calls after you, “don’t get lost again!”

“i won’t!” you call back with a laugh, shaking your head.

once you step out of the restroom, you turn a corner and nearly bump into someone again.

“oh—sorry!” you start, looking up. and there he is.

the boy from earlier.

“you again,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“yeah, me again,” you reply, feeling your face heat up.

“i guess we’re just destined to keep running into each other,” he jokes, his tone light and teasing.

you laugh softly. “seems like it. i never got your name earlier.”

“jake,” he says, extending his hand. “and you?”

“y/n,” you say, shaking his hand. his grip is gentle but firm, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“nice to officially meet you, y/n,” jake says, his smile widening.

the two of you start chatting, the conversation flowing easily. he tells you he’s here with his own group, visiting from another school all the way from australia, and you share a little about your own trip. his voice is calm and steady, and his subtle humor keeps making you giggle.

at one point, he gestures toward a nearby painting. “what do you think of this one? please don’t say the artist spilled paint everywhere.”

you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “no, no, that’s keeho’s specialty. i actually think it’s kind of beautiful, in a chaotic way.”

“good answer,” jake says, grinning.

before you know it, the sound of footsteps and familiar voices echo down the hall. “y/n! where are you?” keeho calls, his voice unmistakable.

you glance in the direction of the sound, then back at jake, your smile faltering slightly. “that’s my friends. i should go.”

jake nods, his expression soft. “of course. it was nice talking to you, y/n.”

“you too, jake,” you say, stepping away reluctantly. as you walk toward your friends, you can’t help but glance back once. jake is still standing there, giving you a small wave.

you rejoin keeho and hyunjin, who immediately start teasing you for taking so long. but as the three of you continue exploring the museum, you can’t stop thinking about jake. and though you don’t say it out loud, you quietly hope that fate will bring you together again.

it’s been a day since the museum, but your thoughts keep circling back to jake. his kind smile, the way he made you laugh, and that unmistakable australian accent—it’s all stuck in your head.

after dinner with your classmates at the hotel, the buzz of chatter feels overwhelming. you decide to step outside for some fresh air, hoping a quiet walk will help clear your mind.

the streets of paris are calmer at this hour, bathed in a soft, golden glow from the streetlights. a small park just down the road catches your eye, and you wander toward it, settling onto a bench beneath a tree.

you sit there for a while, letting your thoughts drift. the cool breeze carries the faint scent of flowers, and the distant hum of city life feels oddly soothing.

suddenly, you feel someone sit down beside you. you glance over, and your heart skips a beat.

it’s him.

jake.

the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

he notices your surprise and gives you that same warm smile. “hey,” he says casually. “fancy seeing you here.”

you blink, struggling to process the coincidence. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he says with a light chuckle, leaning back against the bench. “i was out for a walk, saw this park, and thought i’d sit for a bit. didn’t expect to run into you again.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “paris must be smaller than we think.”

“or fate has a funny way of working,” he says, his tone teasing but his eyes sincere.

the conversation flows naturally from there. he asks about your class trip, and you tell him about your visit to the museum and all the places your group plans to see next. he shares stories about his own class, laughing about his friends’ antics and the moments that make the trip memorable.

“you’re telling me someone actually fell asleep in front of the mona lisa?” you ask, barely holding back laughter.

“yup. full-on snoring,” jake replies, grinning. “the security guard didn’t know whether to wake him or leave him there.”

the two of you laugh together, the sound blending into the quiet of the park.

after a while, jake stands up. “wait here,” he says, his tone playful but mysterious.

“where are you going?” you ask, watching him walk toward a nearby food stand.

“you’ll see,” he calls back over his shoulder.

a few minutes later, he returns, holding two neatly wrapped chocolate crepes. he hands one to you with a grin. “figured this would make the moment even better.”

you take it, smiling at his thoughtfulness. “thanks, jake. this is perfect.”

as you both sit there, enjoying the crepes and chatting under the parisian sky, you can’t help but feel like this moment is something straight out of a dream.

the days in paris pass like a blur, filled with sightseeing, laughter, and the magic of simply being in the city. but the most unexpected highlight of your trip that osn’t on the schedule—is jake.

you can’t quite explain it, but somehow, you keep running into him. these little moments have become the thing you secretly look forward to the most.

────୨ৎ────

you’re standing at the counter of a small café, debating between ordering a croissant or a pain au chocolat. the decision feels monumental, and you’re entirely lost in thought when a voice interrupts you.

“go for the pain au chocolat,” jake says, appearing beside you with an easy smile.

you blink, startled at first, before breaking into a grin. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“getting breakfast,” he says, holding up a cup of coffee and a bag. “didn’t think i’d see you again so soon.”

“neither did i,” you reply, chuckling. “are you always this lucky, or is paris just this small?”

“maybe both,” he teases. “need help deciding?”

“i was leaning toward the croissant, but now i feel like i have to trust your judgment.”

“always trust the chocolate,” he says, nodding sagely.

you laugh and order the pain au chocolat. as you wait, the two of you chat, his humor making the simple café feel like the best spot in paris.

────୨ৎ────

a couple of days later, you’re wandering through a mall with keeho and hyunjin, trying to find souvenirs to take back home. keeho is busy debating between two scarves for his mom, and hyunjin is glued to his phone, looking up recommendations.

you drift toward a small kiosk filled with handmade trinkets, running your fingers over delicate keychains.

“don’t tell me you’re buying one of those cheesy eiffel tower keychains,” a familiar voice says behind you.

you spin around, your heart skipping a beat. “jake!”

he’s holding a bag of his own, filled with souvenirs. “fancy meeting you here.”

“again,” you add with a laugh.

keeho spots jake and gives you a knowing look, while hyunjin just raises an eyebrow before wandering off. you try to ignore them and focus on jake instead.

“what’s in the bag?” you ask, nodding toward his purchases.

“just some stuff for my family,” he says. “and maybe a keychain or two.”

you laugh. “i thought you were against cheesy keychains.”

“only when other people buy them,” he says, his grin mischievous.

────୨ৎ────

the park has become your little escape, a quiet place to think and reflect. you’re sitting on the same bench as before, lost in thought, when you hear footsteps approach.

“do you have a permanent spot here, or are you waiting for me?” jake’s voice breaks through your daydream.

you turn, smiling as he sits down beside you. “maybe both.”

“lucky me, then,” he says, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “so, what’s on your mind today?”

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. “just… thinking about how much i’ve enjoyed this trip. and how strange it’ll feel to leave.”

jake nods, his expression softening. “yeah, i get that. it’s been a lot, hasn’t it?”

“yeah,” you say quietly, and for a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

that evening. your teacher gathers the entire class in the lobby of the hotel to deliver the news.

“you’ve got two days left to enjoy paris before we head back home,” she says. “make sure you start packing your things and grab any last-minute souvenirs.”

the room fills with murmurs of excitement and relief. most of your classmates are thrilled to return to canada, and part of you is, too. but as you head back to your room, a bittersweet feeling settles in your chest.

two more days. that’s all the time you have left before you have to say goodbye to jake.

you don’t know why the thought stings so much, but it does. and now, more than ever, you hope for one more chance to see him.

────୨ৎ────

the second-to-last day in paris feels like a blur of excitement and nostalgia. you, keeho, and hyunjin make it a mission to visit as many places as possible, squeezing every last drop out of your remaining time in the city.

as the three of you step into the vintage store, you're greeted by the faint smell of aged leather and a mix of retro music playing softly in the background. the shop is packed with everything from old records to racks of vintage clothes and shelves lined with random knick-knacks.

“okay,” keeho announces, clapping his hands together. “this is the place to find hidden gems.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “hidden gems or overpriced junk?”

“you just don’t have the vision,” keeho shoots back, already digging through a rack of jackets.

you wander toward a glass display case near the counter, something catching your eye—a vintage digicam. it’s small, sleek, and looks like it’s been well cared for. you kneel to get a closer look, curiosity piqued.

“hey, what’d you find?” keeho asks, appearing beside you with a leopard-print scarf draped around his neck.

you point to the camera. “a digicam. looks pretty cool, doesn’t it?”

keeho leans in, inspecting it. “very cool. are you gonna get it?”

you hesitate. “i don’t know… do you think it still works?”

“only one way to find out,” hyunjin says, suddenly appearing on your other side. he gestures to the shop owner, a kind-looking older man, who unlocks the case and hands you the camera.

you examine it closely, turning it over in your hands. the lens looks clean, and the buttons feel intact.

“how much?” you ask the shop owner.

“twenty euros,” he replies with a smile.

keeho gasps dramatically. “a steal! you have to get it.”

“yeah, before someone else does,” hyunjin agrees, casually flipping through a rack of shirts.

you laugh at their enthusiasm and decide to go for it. “alright, fine. i’m buying it.”

as you hand over the cash, keeho strikes another pose with the scarf. “what do you think? parisian chic, or should i stick to my usual?”

“stick to your usual,” hyunjin says without looking up.

keeho sighs, draping the scarf back onto the rack. “you two have no appreciation for drama.”

you test out the digicam, snapping a quick photo of keeho mid-pout. the image pops up on the tiny screen, surprisingly crisp for something so old.

“perfect,” you say, showing him the photo.

keeho grins. “okay, maybe you do have an eye for the dramatic.”

hyunjin wanders over with an oversized sweater, holding it up against himself. “thoughts?”

keeho wrinkles his nose. “are you auditioning for a grandpa role?”

“i like it,” you say, defending hyunjin’s choice.

“thank you,” hyunjin replies, smugly tossing the sweater over his arm.

the three of you spend a bit longer in the shop, goofing around and trying on random hats, sunglasses, and jackets. you snap more photos with your new camera—keeho wearing an old captain’s hat, hyunjin attempting to look cool in aviator sunglasses, and a candid shot of the two of them laughing together.

by the time you leave, the bag with your new camera swings lightly at your side, and your heart feels full. the memory of this moment—just you and your friends being unapologetically yourselves—already feels like a keepsake all its own.

at a small crêperie, hyunjin’s crêpe is covered in whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.

“how are you even holding that without it falling apart?” you ask, staring at the overloaded treat in wonder.

hyunjin shrugs. “skill,” he says simply before taking an enormous bite.

keeho watches in horror. “that’s going to end up all over your shirt, and i am not letting you borrow mine.”

“you sound like my mom,” hyunjin says through a mouthful of crêpe.

by the seine river, you take turns with the digicam, capturing moments that feel like they belong in a movie. keeho makes exaggerated poses on the bridge, while hyunjin tries (and fails) to look mysterious.

when it’s your turn to hold the camera, you take a candid shot of the two of them mid-laugh. it’s perfect—pure and genuine, a reminder of how much these moments mean to you.

“alright, photographer extraordinaire,” keeho says, pointing dramatically at the eiffel tower in the distance. “get my good side.”

“you don’t have one,” hyunjin jokes, earning a glare from keeho.

as the day winds down, you find yourself lingering outside the hotel while keeho and hyunjin head inside.

“we’ll be in the lobby if you need us,” keeho calls over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look.

once they’re gone, you make your way to the park. the same bench, the same tree, and this time, jake is already there, waiting.

he stands when he sees you, his smile soft but bright. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, walking up to him. “beat me here this time, huh?”

“had a feeling you’d come,” he says, shrugging.

you sit down beside him, the quiet of the park wrapping around you like a blanket.

“you’ve been busy,” jake comments. “i saw you earlier near the seine with your friends. looked like fun.”

“it was,” you say, smiling at the memory. “trying to cram everything into one day, you know? time feels so short now.”

jake’s expression shifts, just slightly, and you know he understands what you mean.

“speaking of time…” you begin, hesitating. “we’re leaving tomorrow. my class is flying back home.”

jake nods slowly, his gaze dropping to his hands. “i figured it was coming. my group leaves the day after.”

there’s a pause, the kind that feels heavy but not uncomfortable.

“do you think we’ll meet again?” you ask softly, not daring to look at him.

“i hope we do,” he replies, his voice quiet but firm.

the weight of his words lingers between you, saying everything that neither of you can.

you pull out your digicam, breaking the tension with a small smile. “can i take some pictures? you know, to remember this?”

jake’s face brightens slightly. “of course.”

you snap a few shots—some posed, some candid. jake laughing at something you said, jake looking off into the distance, and finally, one of the two of you together, taken with his help.

as the night deepens, you know it’s time to go. you stand, reluctantly. “i should get back before my friends come looking for me.”

jake nods but doesn’t move. instead, he reaches out, gently taking your wrist.

“wait.”

you turn, surprised, as he pulls something from his jacket pocket—a pair of silver rings, simple and elegant.

“for you,” he says softly, slipping the smaller one onto your right hand’s ring finger. the fit is perfect.

your heart races, words failing you as he looks at you, his gaze full of unspoken meaning. then, he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“goodbye, y/n,” he murmurs, stepping back.

it takes you a moment to find your voice. “goodbye, jake.”

as you walk back to the hotel, your mind replays the moment over and over, the cool metal of the ring on your finger grounding you in the surrealness of it all. that night, lying in bed, you can’t help but wonder if the universe will bring you and jake together again someday.

꒰ paris again, and again, and again, and again, and again ꒱

a tap on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, and you lift your head groggily. you blink, trying to focus on the person standing in front of you. it’s keeho, grinning mischievously, while hyunjin stands behind him, sipping his americano with a slightly amused expression.

“y/n, what are you doing?” keeho asks, leaning in and waving his hand in front of your face.

you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “i’m taking a break. i can’t even keep my eyes open for more than a minute.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “yeah, we can tell. you’re practically sleeping at your desk.” he leans against the back of your chair, his voice cool but teasing. “how about you stop pretending to study and actually join us for once?”

keeho’s grin widens as he jumps into the conversation. “we’re heading to a café to study, and you’re coming with us. you need a change of scenery.”

you groan, feeling your body resist the idea of leaving the comforting quiet of the library, but deep down, you know you’ve been at it for too long. a change of pace might be exactly what you need.

“come on, y/n,” keeho insists, his voice full of that playful energy you can’t ignore. “we’ll make it more fun. you can’t study like this. plus, you’ll probably get more done with us around.”

you hesitate for a moment, your mind torn between the need for a proper break and the looming pressure of your exams. still, you can’t deny how much you need a little distraction. “fine,” you sigh, finally giving in. “but if we end up just talking the entire time, i’m leaving.”

hyunjin chuckles, giving you a knowing look. “i think you’ll be okay. we’ll actually study this time. promise.”

keeho grabs your arm, pulling you up from your seat with a playful tug. “good, because you need us to keep you sane. now, let’s get out of here.”

as the three of you leave the library, you let out one last sigh, knowing that even though you might not get as much studying done as you hope, you could definitely use the company.

the café is warm and inviting, the soft hum of background chatter mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. it’s a stark contrast to the quiet, studious atmosphere of the library, and you find yourself breathing a little easier as you step inside.

you find a small corner table and set your laptop down, letting out a contented sigh as you settle in. keeho and hyunjin head to the counter to order, leaving you to fidget with your feet, trying to shake off the weight of the past few hours spent studying.

your eyes flicker to the window, watching people pass by as you idly tap your fingers against your coffee cup. eventually, you stop, catching sight of the ring on your right hand.

you pause, fingers tracing the smooth metal, your mind drifting back to paris. “it’s been three years since that time in paris,” you think to yourself, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. the memory feels distant now, like a dream you’re not quite sure was real.

you wonder if jake still remembers you, if he thinks about you at all. you’d been so wrapped up in the magic of those moments, so caught up in the fleeting connection between the two of you, that you’d completely forgotten to exchange socials, to keep in touch.

a soft laugh escapes you, tinged with frustration. you can still picture your past self—so carefree, so caught up in the magic of the moment, never once thinking about the things you should have done. and now, years later, it stings.

the photos you took back then are all you have left—memories frozen in time, but still, you find yourself wishing you had more. a way to bridge the gap between then and now, something more than a ring on your finger that’s become a quiet reminder of what you left behind.

a soft laugh from keeho breaks you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see him and hyunjin walking toward the table, their arms full of coffee cups and pastries. keeho places your cup down in front of you, his expression softening when he notices the faraway look in your eyes.

“you okay?” he asks, settling into his chair across from you.

you smile faintly. “yeah, just… thinking about paris.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. he simply places a croissant in front of you and nods. “we’ll make it through these finals. paris will still be there when you’re done.”

you nod, but the bittersweet smile remains on your face, the question still lingering in the back of your mind. will you ever see jake again?

you manage to get some work done, but there’s plenty of laughter and light-hearted banter between you guys. hyunjin and keeho constantly bicker over the most ridiculous things—whether iced coffee is better than hot coffee, or if studying with background music is productive.

“you’re seriously telling me you don’t like the classics?” keeho says, shaking his head dramatically. “what kind of music do you even listen to, hyunjin?”

“i listen to music that doesn’t make my brain want to shut down,” hyunjin replies with a smirk, taking a sip from his americano. “but hey, if you need classical music to study, you do you.”

you laugh at their back-and-forth, shaking your head at their silly rivalry. the sound of their bickering is strangely comforting, distracting you from the pressure building up inside your mind. you feel a little lighter, even if it’s just for a moment.

after a while, you excuse yourself and head to the bathroom inside the café, needing a quick break from the endless cycle of notes and coffee. the place is busy, but the hum of quiet conversations and the scent of freshly brewed coffee make it feel comforting.

you take your time, refreshing yourself and letting your thoughts wander for a few moments. when you finally finish and head back out, you’re not paying attention to where you’re going, still lost in your thoughts.

and then—bam.

you collide with someone, the force making you stumble slightly. your reflexes kick in, and you immediately start bowing in apology, your words rushing out in a flurry of embarrassment.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean—”

but before you can finish, you hear a familiar voice, soft and warm, with that unmistakable australian accent.

“y/n?”

you freeze, and the world seems to stop for a moment. you slowly lift your head, and there, standing in front of you, is none other than jake. in the flesh.

for a split second, all your words get caught in your throat. your heart races, and your brain scrambles to process the unexpected reunion. this can’t be real. is this a dream?

jake’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at you with concern, his voice softening. “are you okay?” he asks, stepping a little closer to you, clearly worried about your sudden silence.

you blink, feeling your heart thumping louder in your chest as you try to find your words, but they’re nowhere to be found. you stand there, staring at him, completely at a loss for what to say.

he leans in slightly, just enough to make sure you’re okay, his face showing that familiar concern. “y/n?” he gently says your name, and your body snaps back to reality.

“i—uh… sorry, i just—didn’t expect to see you.” you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing your face. "i thought… i thought i was imagining things."

jake chuckles softly, his expression softening with a smile that makes your heart flutter. “i didn’t expect to run into you here either.” his tone is light, playful, but there’s something in his eyes—something that makes the air feel a little thicker.

you both stand there for a moment, awkward silence hanging between you. the familiarity of this moment feels surreal, but there’s no denying the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of him.

“so, uh,” you start, finally finding your voice, “what are you doing here? i didn’t expect to run into you… again.”

jake’s lips curl into that familiar, soft smile. he shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s a glint in his eyes, something unspoken. “guess it’s just fate.” he says, his tone playful but there’s a layer of sincerity underneath it, one you can’t quite ignore.

you chuckle lightly, but the tension between you both is palpable now, thickening the air around you. there’s an undeniable pull between you, something that neither of you have fully acknowledged, but it’s there, lingering in the space between your words. you feel the heat of his gaze, and the sudden awareness of how close you both are makes your heart beat just a little faster.

“so… how’ve you been?” you ask, needing to break the moment but also curious, wanting to know everything about him since that last time you saw him.

jake rubs the back of his neck with a small, shy smile, a gesture you remember well. “i’ve been good… just been busy, you know. but i’ve been thinking about our time in paris a lot.” his voice is casual, but his eyes hold something deeper, a hint of vulnerability that you weren’t expecting.

you nod, understanding exactly what he means. you’ve been thinking about paris too. every memory feels like a treasure, something you’ve carefully tucked away, not wanting to forget any part of it. you wish you had more time to ask him about the things he’s been up to, to know if he’s felt the same pull that you have, the connection that neither of you can explain.

you glance down at your hand absentmindedly, and that’s when you see it—the ring he gave you in the park, so simple yet so meaningful. the silver band glints in the soft café lighting, and your heart does a little flip.

jake notices too, his gaze dropping to your hand. his smile softens, almost imperceptibly, but you notice it. there’s a quiet understanding between you two that you don’t need to speak aloud.

“i see you’re still wearing it,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost tender.

you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, everything else fades away. you feel like you’re back in paris, standing in that park, with everything still ahead of you, full of hope and possibility.

“i didn’t want to take it off,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes locked on yours. then, without warning, he reaches out slowly, his fingers brushing lightly over your hand, and he gently presses a kiss to your right hand, right where the ring rests. the simple gesture feels like it speaks volumes, and you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you.

“i’m glad,” he says softly, his voice just above a murmur. “i’m glad you kept it.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the world feels like it’s holding its breath. the space between you feels charged, but neither of you is in a rush to break the silence. it’s as if this moment, this small, quiet exchange, is enough.

you blink, still a little stunned by the gesture, your heart racing, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you can’t help but feel the warmth in your chest, the way his simple action makes you feel seen, valued, even though you never really said all the things you wanted to say.

when you finally speak, your voice is soft but steady. “i didn’t think i’d see you again.”

jake takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “i didn’t either, but i’m glad i did.”

enha perm taglist. @dazzlingjaeyun @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone

©levandright

240 notes · View notes

sschizoid · 30 days ago

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Hello :3 may I pretty please request like, hcs of the tulpar crew traveling together?

I mean imagine this, they gather all their last paychecks from Pony Express and decide a place to go, how, what to see...etc

I just think I'd have some fun dynamics

omg hehe this ask has so much room for fun interpretation, like where are they going, how they're getting there, etc. but I think I'm gonna narrow this down tooooo badadadadadadadadum AIRPORT! where they're going is up to you!

-- curly

he's what you would call an Airport Dad™. wakes up EARLY to pack everything into the car and to pick everyone else up. keeps worrying that they're going to be late but they end up arriving 3 hours before boarding

overpacks. has a checked luggage just barely within weight parameters, as well as a carry-on AND a backpack. he packs for every scenario, every weather type, every activity

he's the one that bought everybody's ticket and holds onto them for safekeeping. he's also got one of those airline SkyMile credit cards, so he got everyone a pretty good deal regarding expenses!

brought one of those neck pillows since he gets stiff pretty easily when sitting down for too long. also brought one of those cooling eye masks and comfy socks. bro is the plane equivalent of a passenger princess

jimmy

he was still sleeping when curly got to his house. oh also he forgot to pack the night before, so he makes everyone wait in the car for 30 extra minutes while he takes his sweet ass time shoving random shit into a backpack

probably the least traveled of the group. his family never took vacations when he was growing up, so the furthest he's been from home is just a state or two, and even then it was just for work and not leisure

takes up as much space as humanly possible, stretching his legs, spreading his elbows wide, etc. if the person sitting next to him tries to ask for a bit more space, he puts on headphones after the fact then pretends he doesn't hear them

definitely the type to glare at the mother of a crying baby in hopes of making her feel embarrassed or ashamed

anya

super forgetful and cannot remember if she packed toiletries or not. oh god, what about socks? did she pack socks ??? ends up spending $50 on various airport-priced items just in case

lowkey really scared of flying. she's done it tons of times before but still white-knuckle clenches the armrests during takeoff

brings lots of books. this is a great time for her to catch up on the reading she's been putting off with all of her work and schooling

never gets to reading said books, and instead sleeps like a log the whole trip. she's tired !!

swansea

was the only person ready in time when curly came around to pick everyone up. like, standing outside on the porch, bags at his feet ready

waits 20 minutes in line for coffee, but when he gets to the front and sees that a 12oz black drip is $5 he turns around and walks away. complains about airport prices for the next few hours, talking about "highway robbery" until they're finally boarded

"remember to pop your ears, you'll get a headache if you don't"

aisle seat. NEEDS an aisle seat. if the ticket curly bought him isn't in the aisle, he'll shamelessly ask other passengers to switch with him. he likes the extra leg room and ease of access to the bathroom

daisuke

makes the metal detector go off multiple times. "oops, forgot my belt!" BEEP "oh, man, that's probably my keys, sorry." BEEP "oh shit, my phone!" BEEP "waitwaitwait hold on hold on—"

his goal is to be that one person you see in passing at the airport that is just the most beautiful stranger you've ever seen. his hair? styled. his skin? dewy. his fit? fun, colorful, and literally insane for the setting. he dresses to impress!

checking out all the shops and food options before boarding, just straight wandering off without saying anything. comes back 20 min later with a keychain that says "I LEFT MY ❤️ AT ______ INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT" because he thinks its funny as fuck

insists he take the window seat but keeps the curtain closed the entire flight because the sun is casting a glare on his handheld

THANK UUUU for your request, I hope this is sufficient! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

#mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing headcanons #rq

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sound-of-scoups · 10 days ago

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Moth To A Flame | JJK & KMG | 03

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader x Kim Mingyu Genre|tags: Idol!au, series, established relationship, infidelity, lots of angst, lots of drama, smut, maybe fluff. Word count: 15.8k + Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Chapter warnings: Angst at its finest, like, literally this is pure and raw angst (poor baby is going through it), mentions of Jungkook smoking, crying, everyone here needs therapy, mentions of Jungkook not handling the BTS hiatus very well, arguments, abuse of power by a superior (?). Lemme know if there's more. A/N: 1. Time to get some questions answered...; 2. As ARMY, it's so strange/painful, but at the same time, relieving, to write about the things that happened in 2022 with BTS, knowing that it's already 2025 and the war is over; 3. I have no idea when chapter four will come out, I decided it will be a surprise, so it can come out tomorrow or in two weeks hehe.

Summary: Four years ago, you crossed paths with a charming member of the K-pop group Seventeen during their tour stop in Osaka. The two of you shared three intense, unforgettable days before life took you in different directions. It was painful for both of you, but you knew you couldn’t take things any further and had to say goodbye. Now, back in Seoul for good, you’re in a new relationship with another idol: Jeon Jungkook—whose charm and stability make him everything you thought you wanted. You are very much in love with him, and as your connection deepens, it feels like your life is finally falling into place. That is, until you meet one of your boyfriend’s best friends and are stunned to discover it’s the same man you fell for in Osaka all those years ago. As buried emotions resurface and secrets begin to unravel, you find yourself torn between these two men, caught in a whirlwind of love and conflict, testing the boundaries of loyalty and the choices that could change everything.

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The moment you walked out of HYBE headquarters, your entire body seemed to spiral into a state of complete mania. You paced around the block for a few moments, overwhelmed by an intense urge to scream and laugh uncontrollably—all at the same time.

Your phone showed multiple missed calls from Jungkook, likely eager to know how the meeting had gone, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to answer any of them. You didn’t know how to tell him the news without sounding like you were on the brink of psychosis for reasons entirely unrelated to the happiness of landing the biggest opportunity of your career.

Instead, after minutes of aimlessly wandering the streets like someone who had just escaped from a psychiatric hospital, you made the only choice that felt right: you called your best friend.

“Wait,” Dahee said, holding up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, her steps faltering as if the physical pause could help her process everything you’d just unloaded on her. “Mingyu? As in Osaka Mingyu?”

You nodded, taking another lick of your strawberry ice cream. “Yep.”

Initially, you both met at your usual spot—a cozy restaurant downtown, tucked by a window that overlooked the bustling street. The aroma of barbecue wafted around you, blending with the soft clink of dishes and the murmur of voices. You and Dahee dove into a meal not much after, her excitement about her upcoming wedding filling the air immediately. She animatedly described the flowers, venues, and music with her eyes sparkling, and you simply couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt her with the chaos that inhabits your mind.

As the hours passed and you started walking together along the Han River, Dahee finally looked at you, curiosity shining in her eyes. With a gentle nudge, she asked what was going on with you. Her sincerity was unmistakable, and after a steadying breath, you began unraveling the turbulence of your life events, spilling every detail you’d been holding back all day.

Dahee’s expression after you finished telling her everything was like you’d sprouted two extra heads right there on the riverbank. She blinked a few times, processing each piece of information you’d just handed her. Finally, she shook her head, eyebrows raised.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice barely above a gasp as she tugged you toward one of the benches along the shore, her hand gripping your arm tightly. “First of all, I’m hurt that you never told me that Mingyu from Osaka was the Kim Mingyu.”

“I couldn't, babe,” You shrugged, leaning back comfortably against the bench. “Seventeen's legal team made me sign an NDA. I couldn't even be telling you this.”

You felt a pang of frustration as you recalled the weight of that document, the way it had silenced your thoughts and feelings about everything that had happened four years ago between the two of you.

Dahee’s jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally found her voice. “An NDA? Seriously?”

You nodded, gaze shifting to the river, its calm surface contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you. “I couldn’t say a word to anyone about what happened. I couldn’t reach out to him. Hell, I wasn’t even allowed to be in the same country as him for years.”

The words slipped out of you like a confession, each one weighted with the years of secrets you’d held inside, now finally spilling free.

The pain of knowing he had chosen this path remained buried deep within you. You still felt naive for believing in everything he had said and promised that morning before you went your separate ways. Four years had passed, and while you were no longer the person you once were, and thought the green light of forgiveness had already been lit, even if only on your end, it still hurted.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Dahee studied your face, brows knitted together. “I thought NDA’S were just myths.”

“Oh, they’re real, all right,” you replied, a bitter smile touching your lips. “And terrifying.”

“How did they even ban you from being in the same country as him?” Dahee asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That is incredibly so unfair.”

“It was part of the NDA. They included a clause that forbade me from trying to contact him or even being in the same place as him for a certain period of time,” you said, taking another bite of your ice cream. “They wanted to protect his image, to keep the media from blowing anything out of proportion. To not make a big thing out of something insignificant.”

Those exact words that came out from his manager’s mouth, hitting you like a slap across the face and reverberating in your mind with an almost cruel precision for years. You could only guess that you were insignificant enough to be erased from his life, but important enough to warrant a whole legal agreement about it.

Probably what he thought too.

“I didn’t have a choice; it was either that or risk legal action.” You completed it.

Dahee stared at you, completely dumbfounded, her jaw slack as she tried to process what you’d just said. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands for a moment before letting out a muffled groan.

“That’s insane. How do you even enforce something like that? Did they just expect you to… what? Erase him from your memory like he’s some kind of ghost?”

“Pretty much,” you replied bitterly, taking the last bite of your ice cream. “Until last year, at least.”

“That's why you didn't come back sooner,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours for reaffirmation.

You nodded, a rueful smile playing on your lips. “Yeah.”

Dahee let out a low whistle, leaning back against the bench. “Wow. That explains so much. And now, you’re telling me that the biggest opportunity of your career just so happens to be working with him? Talk about fate having a sick sense of humor, bestie.”

“Exactly," you muttered, dragging your hands down your face in exasperation. "It's like the universe is laughing at me. 'Oh, you're finally moving on? Cool, let me drop Mingyu right back into your life for funsies.'”

“And no one at HYBE thought this might be, I don’t know, a tiny bit problematic for the two of you?”

“I don’t think they know, or even care. Pledis wasn’t part of HYBE back then. So to them, I’m just another freelancer with a decent portfolio,” you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “I think no one there remembers what happened between us.”

Dahee sighed deeply. “I’m so sorry, babe,” her expression softened. She reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That sounds incredibly painful to hold to yourself.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you nodded, grateful for her support right now. “It’s been a struggle. I thought keeping busy would help me forget, but seeing him again…”

You trailed off, unable to find the words to fully explain the emotions crashing through you. Memories you thought you’d buried deep had come rushing back with such force it felt like you’d been blindsided for four years.

Dahee’s grip on your hand tightened, her voice firm yet gentle. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone, you know. Why didn’t you didn’t tell me the second you connect the dots about his connection with Jungkook?”

“I didn’t know what to do, to be honest. Considering how everything went down, I… thought he’d forgotten about me, Hee.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “And he didn’t?”

You hesitated, biting your lip before shaking your head. “No.”

That much you were sure, since he hadn’t left you any room to think otherwise. It was clear in the way he looked at you, like he wanted to ask a thousand questions but held himself back, respecting Jungkook's presence beside you. The way he kept conversation, the way he and his friends talked about Osaka and referred to you, even without knowing it was you. It was almost like he wanted you to see he still cared, but didn’t want to be direct about it.

You just couldn't understand why.

“Did he say something to you? Otherwise you wouldn't be thinking about it.”

You hesitated again, the words lingering on the tip of your tongue. Maybe Dahee was right—if nothing had happened, if he hadn't followed you to the bathroom, if he hadn't asked to talk, if he hadn't looked at you like that, as if it were the first time he was seeing you in his life, or said us that way, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t still be dwelling on it.

"He asked if we could talk.”

Dahee straightened up, her expression a mix of curiosity and cautious concern. “And what did you say?”

You shrugged, fidgeting with the edge of your coat and looking away from her. “That I would think about.”

You could feel her gaze studying you carefully, her faze was sharp but not unkind. Dahee sighed deeply and you held your breath for a second, believing you were going to get scolded by your best friend for having allowed even the smallest space to open, giving the guy who had broken your heart in the worst possible way a sliver of hope that he might talk to you again.

“So let me get this straight,” she started, planting the palms of her hands on her own legs, the marquise-shaped diamond of her engagement ring shining brightly. “Mingyu, the guy who allegedly tried to erase you from his life and left you with a suitcase full of unresolved emotions and the biggest heartbreak of your life, wants to talk. And you didn’t say no, but you didn’t say yes either.”

“Pretty much,” you admitted, feeling the weight of it all press down on you again.

The fact that he wanted to talk set off a cascade of flags in your mind. What could he possibly want from you now? Why, after all these years, did he choose this moment to break the silence? Hadn't he been the one to make the decision for both of you all those years ago? Was it because he saw you with Jungkook that your ego couldn't handle it?

Deep down, you knew he wasn't like that. You knew perfectly well that he wasn't that kind of person. But now your brain was already working with far-fetched answers to the confusing questions surrounding it and the only person who could answer them was the one you weren't ready to face yet.

Dahee let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “This is the kind of plot twist I'd expect from a bad drama, not your life. Are you okay, though? Like, how are you feeling now?”

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

The truth was, you weren’t allowing yourself to feel anything, while at the same time, you were feeling everything—the good, the bad, the messy ones. It was a paradox that seemed to stretch you thin, tearing at the edges of your composure. For the longest time, you found yourself torn between two extremes: the desperate yearning to see him every day, and the equally fierce desire to never lay eyes on him again.

Sitting there by the river, with Dahee’s presence beside you, it was the first time in years you allowed yourself even a sliver of vulnerability about this subject. The chaos of seeing Mingyu again, of being thrust into a situation you’d worked so hard to avoid, made your defenses feel paper-thin. And now, after landing the job that could very well change your life, you felt like that fragile piece of paper was precariously floating on water, ready to dissolve into nothingness.

The idea of starting fresh as Seventeen’s stylist should have excited you—it did excite you—but the weight of the past lingered, heavier than you wanted to admit. You knew that from now on, there would be no avoiding Mingyu. In fact, you would be seeing him far more than you ever could have imagined over the past four years.

Seeing Mingyu again wasn’t just a footnote; it was a headline, bold and unavoidable.

How could he suddenly reappear in your life and completely upend everything? How could he suddenly seem to be everywhere?

These thoughts wouldn’t stop circling, growing louder with every passing minute under the moonlight. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, like the universe had been waiting for the perfect moment to throw your carefully built world into disarray. You had spent years carefully locking away every memory, every feeling tied to him, convincing yourself it was better this way. That his absence was a closed chapter, one that didn’t need reopening. Yet here you were, about to walk into a reality where he wasn’t just present—he was unavoidable.

“I don't know. I mean, I thought I was okay. I’ve spent years trying to move past it, convincing myself it didn’t matter anymore. But seeing him again… it’s like all the progress I made just evaporated.”

After everything, you were the only one who ended up with wounds to bind. And now it looked like it was all open wide while someone dumped a bag of salt into it.

“And the worst part? I’m not even angry at him anymore. I’m just… sad. Sad that it ended the way it did, sad that I still don’t fully understand why,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. “But then there’s Jungkook, who is perfect, and makes everything feel so magical, so right and…” you paused, letting the morning's events replay in your mind. “He asked me to move in with him this morning.”

Dahee froze, her eyes widening and mouth falling open in astonishment.. “Wait, what?” she finally said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “How did you even respond to him?”

“I didn’t,” you admitted, letting out a long sigh and pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes. “I also told him I’d think about it.”

Dahee groaned, rubbing her temples like she was getting a headache just from hearing everything. “Okay, so Mingyu reappears, bringing all your unresolved trauma back to the surface, and a week later, Jungkook, your incredible, loving boyfriend who would probably lasso the moon for you, asks you to move in with him?”

“That sums it up,” you said with a weak laugh, though there was no humor behind it, and taking your hands from your eyes to your hair, restlessly. "Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes, Hee. Damn it, why does everything feel like it's moving so fast now?"

“Babe, that's… huge,” she murmured, gaze softening again with understanding. “Like, life-changing huge. Of course it feels fast. You’ve got a whole lot of emotions to process, and now this. No wonder you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

You blinked rapidly, the lump in your throat threatening to spill over into tears. It was actually a surprise that you hadn't shed any tears yet today. “I mean, I should be happy, right? Jungkook is everything I ever wanted and it took me so long to feel like this again after Mingyu. But now…”

“It’s like you’re second-guessing things because of Mingyu.” Dahee finished your sentence as if she’d read your mind.

“Yeah.” You buried your face in your hands. “It feels like I’m being pulled in two different directions, and I don’t know which one is going to tear me apart first.”

The words hung in the air, raw and heavy, as your chest tightened with the weight of your own admission. It wasn’t just about a choice—it was about the uncertainty, the guilt.

On one hand, you did want to say yes to Jungkook because he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and you know he loves you, just as much as you love him. But on the other hand… there’s Mingyu. And it's not like you're thinking about going down that road again, because you're not. But just the idea of him being a part of your life again is enough to throw you completely off balance.

Dahee reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Have you told Jungkook anything yet?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I haven't.” You exhaled shakily, lowering your hands and staring at the calm river in front of you.

How do you even begin to explain this to him?

'Hey babe, remember how I told you I had a complicated past? Surprise! My ex-situationship is Kim Mingyu, your best friend, and we’re going to be seeing each other almost every day now. Do you still want me to move in?’

“I’m scared, Hee,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I just… I’m terrified of how he’ll react. What if he thinks I’m not over Mingyu? What if this ruins everything?”

Dahee frowned, tilting her head as she regarded you with a mixture of concern and resolve. “But you’re not holding onto Mingyu, right?” she searches for your face, and when you say nothing, she asks, her tone turning more serious, “I mean, how do you actually feel about him?”

Mingyu.

How did you feel about Mingyu? It wasn’t an easy answer. One you were still working to figure out. Just his name alone brought a flurry of emotions you didn’t want to confront. Guilt, anger, sadness, longing—all of it muddled together, making it impossible to think straight.

“I…” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. You looked away, focusing on the ripples in the river as if they might offer some clarity. “I don’t know.”

Dahee didn’t push, giving you space to sort through the chaos in your head. But the silence wasn’t comforting—it felt like an interrogation room, the weight of the truth pressing down on you.

“It’s not that I’m still in love with him,” you finally said, your voice barely audible. “It’s just… seeing him bring back everything I tried so hard to bury. The what-ifs, the unresolved feelings, the stupid hope that maybe, somehow, he didn’t forget about me too.”

“I’m not gonna lie,” she started, her tone playful. “For a long time, I thought the guy from Osaka was your imaginary friend or something.” You laughed at her effort to lighten the mood, grateful for her attempt to break the tension within you. “The way you talked about him back then, it was like he’d disappeared into thin air. Poof.”

You sighed, the weight of your thoughts settling in as you laid your head into her shoulder. “Maybe it would have been easier if he had.”

Dahee let out a soft hum, her hand gently rubbing your arm as the two of you sat in silence for a moment. The city lights reflected on the surface of the river, casting a shimmering glow that felt oddly soothing despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

“Maybe,” she said finally, her voice quieter now.

You glanced at her, a small, wry smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

She shook her head immediately, her expression softening.

“Not even close,” Dahee said firmly.”I think you are someone who has never gotten closure from your past.”

You looked down, letting her words settle over you like a balm. They didn’t erase the turmoil inside, but they softened the edges, making it feel a little less insurmountable.

Closure? What's that like?

“I just…” you began, voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt Jungkook. He’s... he’s everything. And I’m scared that even considering talking to Mingyu is betraying him. I love Jungkook so much, Hee. He’s everything to me and I’m scared shitless of losing him.”

Dahee sat silently for a moment and her gaze drifted to the river. You could almost see her mind turning, sorting through the weight of your words and the emotions you’d finally allowed yourself to express, raw and unfiltered for the first time in ages.

“Listen, you don’t owe Mingyu closure. Not after what he and the company put you through. But you do owe it to yourself to figure out how you want to handle this. Whether that’s keeping things strictly professional or finally getting the answers you deserve.”

Her gaze seemed to be piercing your soul. You knew that no one was better at listening to your mental confusion than her, and you couldn't be more grateful that you had chosen to turn to her first.

“I do think you should give yourself some credit. You’ve been blindsided in a massive way, and anyone in your position would feel a little unsteady.” Dahee gave you a look that was equal parts stern and compassionate. “However, you need to talk to Jungkook about this. Not about Mingyu specifically, maybe, but about how you’re feeling. He loves you, anyone with eyes can see that. He deserves to know before this becomes an even bigger mess.”

You swallowed hard, her words hitting a little too close to home. Deep down, you knew she was right. Jungkook deserved honesty, even if it scared you to lay everything bare.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you murmured, your fingers curling into fists in your lap. “How do you tell someone you love that you’re suddenly tangled up in unresolved feelings from the past without making it sound like you’re questioning your relationship with them?”

Dahee let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Just tell him what you told me: that seeing Mingyu again threw you for a loop, but it doesn’t change how you feel about him.”You stared at her, the simplicity of her suggestion making your chest ache. Maybe it really was that simple—if you didn’t let fear complicate things further.

“And what about Mingyu?” you asked hesitantly, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. “Do I... talk to him? Or do I just pretend he’s not there and hope this whole thing goes away?”

“That depends,” Dahee’s expression hardened slightly, her lips pressing into a firm line. “If he wants to apologize, maybe hearing him out could give you some closure. But if he’s just trying to wiggle his way back into your life with no good reason, you don’t owe him anything.”

You exhaled, the weight of her words settling into your chest. She was right, as always—but that didn’t make any of this easier.

“I don’t even know if talking to Mingyu will give me the answers I’m looking for. Don’t know if I’m ready to hear them either,” you admitted. “What if it just makes everything worse?”

Dahee tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Or what if it gives you the closure you need to finally move forward? You can’t control how it turns out, but avoiding it forever isn’t going to help either. Sometimes the only way out is through, babe.”

The thought both terrified and comforted you. Could you face Mingyu again, knowing how much he had hurt you—and how much you’d tried to move on? Could you really hear whatever it was that he needed to say without letting it unravel the life you’d built?

“I guess the question is,” Dahee continued, her voice softer now, “are you ready to let go of the past? Because if you are, maybe this conversation is exactly what you need to do.”

After your conversation with Dahee, you spent a few minutes alone in your studio-slash-apartment, carefully sorting through your thoughts until everything felt perfectly clear. You had finally made up your mind about telling Jungkook the whole truth, convinced that he deserved to hear all of it from you, and by all of it, you meant all of it, including your hesitations regarding the biggest opportunity of your career and why.

No more secrets. No more running from your past.

Still, even though you were certain of your decision, stepping out of the elevator in Jungkook’s building, you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that the road ahead was about to become much more complicated.

Could he handle all of it? Could you handle laying it all out for him?

It wasn’t just about the past; it was about the future, too. The idea of moving in together, of merging your lives more deeply than ever before, felt both exhilarating and terrifying. If you said yes, would this be the start of something even more beautiful than you already had now, or would the ghosts of your past threaten to tear it all apart?

Your mind has been your worst enemy lately, and you knew that. It felt like the only things occupying it were unanswered questions and nagging insecurities. It was as if you had regressed four entire years of therapy to deal with things like that.

The hallway on the top floor of the building where Jungkook lived was silent as you typed in the password and let yourself into the apartment. The familiar beep of the keypad was followed by the faint click of the door unlocking, and you stepped inside.

Almost immediately, an excited Bam darted toward you, his nails clicking against the wooden floor. His dark eyes sparkled with recognition, and he let out a happy bark, throwing his front paws at your legs in a determined effort to reach your face. You laughed softly, crouching down to greet him.

“Hi, my baby,” you cooed, running your hands over his silky fur as his thin tail wagged furiously. “Did you have fun with uncle Junghyun today?”

Bam responded with an enthusiastic lick to your cheek, making you giggle despite the heaviness of your thoughts. You stayed there for a moment, scratching behind his ears and pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, letting his boundless energy soothe some of your nerves.

Straightening up, you glanced toward the living room, where the glow of Jungkook’s mood light projector cast a soft, familiar warmth. Looking around, you saw that the television was paused in some reality show, and somewhere in the apartment, you could also hear the soft melody of an R&B song somewhere, although Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

“Bamie, where’s appa?” you asked sweetly, slipping off your shoes, setting your bag and phone on the console, noticing now that it was out of battery. Bam tilted his head at your question, then turned and trotted toward the hallway, as if to guide you. Smiling, you followed him through the apartment, your own footsteps muffled by the plush rugs beneath your feet.

The nerves began to creep back as you walked towards Jungkook's room, your heart picking up speed. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but the thought of holding back from him felt even worse. And you also knew that, despite your fear, he deserved all your honesty.

Your footsteps faltered as your ears registered the sound of a soft sniffle coming from Jungkook’s room. The weight in your chest shifted, no longer nerves there but a pang of worry. You stood still for a moment, your fingers brushing the edge of the door frame as you leaned closer to listen.

“Jungkook?” you called out softly, your voice just above a whisper. His name hung in the air, but there was no immediate response, just the faint rustle of fabric and a muffled sound that could have been a shaky exhale.

Pushing the door open further, you stepped inside and were met with a sight that made your heart twist. Jungkook was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, and his head hung low. One hand raked through his dark hair in a way that seemed almost frantic, while the other clutched at his phone. His broad shoulders were hunched, and even in the dim light, you could see the slight tremble in them.

“Kookie,” you said again, your voice firmer this time but still gentle. Bam brushed past your legs, padding over to Jungkook and nudging his knee with his nose. Jungkook glanced up, startled, his wide, watery doe eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he quickly wiped at his face, as if trying to erase the evidence of his tears.

“Oh, hey, babe,” he mumbled, his voice thick and strained as he forced a small, unconvincing smile. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

You crossed the room in a few quick steps, kneeling in front of him to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly, your hands instinctively reaching out to rest on his knees. “Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head as if to dismiss your concern, but the crack in his voice betrayed him. He looked away, biting down on his bottom lip as his phone slipped from his hand and landed on the bed beside him. “I just… It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel like this,” you countered gently. Your mind raced through every possible scenario, trying to understand what could have left him like this. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

He nodded but hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. You ran your hands comfortingly through his damp hair, realizing that he must not have gotten out of the shower long ago, since the towel was still on the bed, and he was wearing only sweatpants.

“Did I do something?” you asked, unsure if the tears could have anything to do with what had happened in the kitchen this morning.

Jungkook shook his head immediately, his eyes widening as he met your gaze again. “No, no, baby, it’s not you. It’s not anything you did. I swear.” His words were rushed, almost desperate, as if the thought of you blaming yourself had pulled him out of his emotional haze for a moment. “You could never…”

Relief washed over you, but the worry remained as you watched him struggle to find the words. His warm hands came up to cover yours where they rested on his knees. He gave them a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing against your skin as if grounding himself with your presence.

“Then what is it?” you asked softly, leaning in closer so your faces were only inches apart. “Please, Kook. I hate seeing you like this. Let me help.”

He inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. For a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the music playing in the background. It seemed like he might brush it off again, but then he sighed heavily, his gaze finally meeting yours. His brows knitted together, his lips trembled, and fresh tears pooled in his reddened eyes.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

“Scared of what, baby?” your voice was soft as you massage the back of his hands with your thumbs.

“Of the hiatus,” he admitted quietly. "Of what it can do to the members and me. Of having to do it all alone.”

Your heart sank at his confession. The weight of Jungkook's fears settled heavily in the room, making your own chest tighten. You should’ve known. It should’ve been your first thought, after seeing him struggling with it alone for days, refusing to share it with you; to worry you, just because he was that kind of person—the one who would never bother anyone with his problems.

But just as you had already predicted earlier, now that BTS were going to take a break to focus on their solo projects plus the military service that would start by the end of that year with Seokjin, Jungkook wasn't handling this in a very healthy way. He was sleeping poorly, smoking more, and skipping meals. He thought you didn’t notice, but there was nothing about him you didn’t see, and Jimin made sure to keep you updated on everything when you were apart.

You knew he enjoyed being active, being with the members, and doing what he loved most, giving it his all. You also knew that the idea of not being able to do that for a certain amount of time scared him more than he was willing to admit. Jungkook had a featuring song to be released with Charlie Puth in less than a week, and you knew he was feeling pressured by it. You just wished he had voiced his concerns before it got to this point.

Reaching up, you gently cupped his face, brushing away the tears that slipped down his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Baby,” you murmured, your voice trembling with empathy as you shifted closer. “You don’t have to do it alone. You’re not alone.”

His eyes closed at your touch, his lashes wet with tears. “It feels like I am sometimes,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “The members… we’re all doing our own things, and I know it’s what we need, but it’s hard. I’m used to having them by my side, to leaning on them when it gets too much. Now, it’s just going to be… me.”

“But you have them,” you reminded him gently. “Even if you’re working on your own projects, they’re still your brothers.”

“I know that," he said, his lips trembling a little. “But what if I don't know who I am without them?”

“Then this is the moment you'll find out, love,” you said softly, your hands still cradling his face. “Trust me, this isn’t about losing who you are; it’s about finding new parts of yourself, ones you didn’t even know were there.”

He opened his eyes, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find reassurance in your words. “What if I mess up?” he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his doubt. “What if I’m not good enough without them?”

“You won’t mess up,” you said with conviction, pressing your forehead gently to his after kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re talented, Jungkook. The most talented person I know. And more than that, you’re hardworking, dedicated, and passionate. Those things don’t disappear just because you’re standing on your own for a while. You’re more than enough, with or without BTS.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his eyes fluttering shut again as he took a shaky breath. Then, he nodded, his hands reaching up to grasp your wrists gently, as if he was trying to ground himself again.

“I don’t want to let anyone down. I don’t want to disappoint them, ARMY or you. I don't want these speculations to become true.”

The looming uncertainty of BTS's hiatus had been on everyone’s mind since Tuesday. It was an ongoing topic across the country and the world. Rumors of disbandment flooded social media and the news, but just as the members, you knew they weren’t true. They were still working on group projects, filming content, and recording songs; still together.

The difference was that now they would have the freedom to explore their individuality and show the world who they truly were as artists.

“First of all,” you whispered softly, placing a kiss on his temple. Jungkook had always been hard on himself, striving for perfection in everything he did, but seeing him let the words of strangers chip away at his confidence broke something in you. “You could never disappoint me. And the members, they understand, they know what you’re going through. As for ARMY, they would walk through hell for you. You’re not in this alone. Never.”

He stayed silent again, just breathing, as though taking in your words. You watched as the fear that had been evident in his eyes slowly started to fade, replaced by a mix of gratitude and uncertainty.

Jungkook leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours again, his hands gently cupping yours where they rested on his face. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Believe me,” you whispered back, “I’m the lucky one.”

For a few moments, the two of you stayed like that, comforted by each other’s presence, the weight of his worries slowly lifting, if only for a moment. In that quiet space, with his hand in yours and his heart open before you, everything felt a little more manageable. So manageable that for at least that moment, you forgot what you came to do here tonight.

But Jungkook made sure to bring you back to reality not long after.

“Now let’s forget about me,” he said, his voice sounding a little bit more upbeat now. “What about you doll? Have any big news to share with me?”

You chuckled softly, tilting your head to the side for a moment, to look at him carefully. “Are you sure you're okay, tough? If you want to keep talking, we can leave this for later.”

Was it selfish of you to want to avoid the subject? Maybe.

But really, you just wanted to make sure he was going to be okay, that all these treacherous thoughts would leave his mind and never return again, even though you knew this was like an impossible mission at the time.

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his face with his tattooed hand. “I’ll be okay. Just... a lot on my mind.” He looked at you, his eyes soft but weary. “I don't want to drag you into this. But thank you for asking.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to push him further, but unable to ignore the weight in his words.

“Baby, I always want to be dragged into whatever is happening in there,” you murmured, using your index finger to point to his head. “It's my job to try to ease your bad thoughts.”

He smiled faintly, appreciating your offer, but you could tell he wasn’t ready to dive deeper into the conversation. Instead, he shrugged and said, “We’ll figure it out later. But for now, I just want to hear how your meeting went.”

The silence stretched between you two for a moment. You gave him a small, understanding nod, your hand resting lightly on the edge of the table between you. You didn’t press any further, trusting that when he was ready, he would find the words.

“Okay, but you know where to find me,” you said quietly, your voice steady and calm, offering him the space he needed.

Jungkook looked at you then, and for a moment, the storm in his eyes seemed to settle. “I know,” he said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now tell me, please. I’m dying here.”

Looking back now, you knew that moment should’ve been the moment you told him everything. You should have used the confidence you had earlier to stop running from the truth you had kept hidden so far.

But when your gaze met his beautiful doe eyes again, still red and puffy from crying, you also knew you couldn’t bear to do that to him. You couldn’t be the one to introduce more doubts and uncertainties into his life. Hell, there was nothing in the world you wouldn’t do to never see him cry like that ever again.

So you changed course, deciding that leaving the topic of Kim Mingyu and Japanese nights for another time was the best choice. To protect that small glimmer of peace you saw returning to him.

“They offered me a position as lead stylist for one of their major groups,” you said, trying to force the best smile you could. At the same time you were happy about the biggest opportunity of your career, your heart broke from having to hide things from Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in surprise before a smile broke through the lingering haze of sadness. The shift in his expression was instantaneous, his tears momentarily forgotten as excitement replaced the storm cloud in his gaze. He got up from the bed immediately taking you with him.

“Babe, that’s amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying a newfound energy as he wrapped you in a hug and spun you around in the air. “I told you! You’re so talented, of course they’d want you!”

The genuine enthusiasm in his voice was enough to both warm your heart and deepen the ache of your guilt.

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from smiling at his words, even though a knot twisted in your throat. “Thank you,” you said softly. “I’m really excited. I’ve been dreaming of something like this for years.”

After years of working with big artists and accomplishing great things in this industry, things that had never been properly rewarded or given credit, you knew you deserved something like this. It was more than just a dream come true; it was the result of all your hard work. Every late night spent hemming clothes in cramped apartments, every early morning dragging garment bags through crowded subways, every tear shed over designs rejected without a second glance—it had all led to this moment.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook said, pulling away slightly to look at you with admiration in his eyes. “Babe, I’m so proud of you.”

You returned the smile, though it was a little strained. “Thank you, Kookie,” you said again.

You desperately wanted to take solace in his unwavering faith in you. And perhaps, just perhaps, gather the courage to tell him everything soon. For now, though, you stayed silent, allowing his love and support to envelop you, even as the weight of your secret pressed heavily on your heart.

“Did they tell you which group it was?” he asked, pulling you to sit on his lap as he sat on the bed again.

You nodded, trying to avoid his gaze but afraid of raising suspicion. “It's Seventeen.”

You watched as a smile spread across Jungkook's face, his entire expression lighting up with joy at your news. You had expected this reaction, his excitement was inevitable. You knew he’d be thrilled not only by the idea of you being nearby again, but also working directly with his friends.

The problem, however, was that this was the one part that made you hesitant. It wasn’t that the rest of the members were at fault for your situation; you were certain they were incredible guys. Based on everything Jungkook had shared with you and what you’d read about them, you knew they would embrace you warmly and make you feel valued in your work.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of butterflies in your stomach—the bad kind. It was a sensation that went far beyond the typical nerves of starting a new job. It felt like a premonition.

“It just keeps getting better,” Jungkook spoke in an excited tone, just as you imagined he would be. “That way I can ask Mingyu to take care of you.”

Your heart clenched at Jungkook's words, even as you tried to maintain your composure. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on you, and the mention of Mingyu’s name only deepened the knot in your stomach. You forced a smile, nodding slightly as you leaned into his chest, hoping the motion would shield your conflicted expression.

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light as you rested your head on his shoulder. “But I think I’ll be fine. It’s a professional environment, after all.”

Jungkook chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring as he stroked your back. “I know you will. You’re amazing at what you do. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone looking out for you, right?”

You swallowed hard. What reasons would you have to say no? “Right,” you echoed, though the word felt hollow on your tongue.

The truth you had promised yourself to share with him earlier that evening now felt impossibly distant. Jungkook's excitement and trust in you only made it harder to picture disrupting this moment with the weight of your past. Yet, even as you held on to the comfort of his embrace, a quiet voice in the back of your mind reminded you that the longer you waited, the harder it would be to face the truth.

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to drown out the voices swirling in your mind, letting yourself get lost in the warmth of your boyfriend's arms, stealing just a little more time before you faced the storm.

“This is huge for you. We need to celebrate.”

Jungkook's enthusiasm was infectious, so you allowed yourself to be swept up in it. His smile was wide, bunny teeth on full display now, and his arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wanted to let go. Deep inside, you wished he wouldn't.

“Celebrate?” you repeated, opening your eyes and arching a brow, unable to keep the smile off your face. “What did you have in mind, Jeon Jungkook?”

He hummed, the corners of his lips quirking up mischievously. “A fancy dinner? Or... I could cook for you. Something special. Your favorite, maybe?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said softly, your heart swelling at the thoughtfulness in his voice. You didn't want a fancy dinner or anything else. You just wanted to enjoy the rest of the night with him and Bam; to stay right here in his embrace.

Jungkook’s eyes lit up at your response, and his lips curved into the kind of grin that made your chest warm in the best way. “Then it’s settled,” he declared, leaning back slightly to look at you more closely. “Let’s open a bottle of wine too. You deserve it. This is your moment, babe.”

“Alright,” you said, your smile soft but genuine. “I want to help.”

Jungkook groaned dramatically, shaking his head. “No way. You’re the guest of honor tonight. Your job is to sit back, relax, and enjoy.”

“Guest of honor?” you teased, tilting your head. “I live here half the time.”

“Exactly,” he said, leaning closer until your foreheads nearly touched. “Half the time. Which means tonight, you get to be spoiled.”

You laughed, unable to stop yourself from leaning into him. “Fine,” you conceded. “But I’ll set the table.”

“Deal,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft, affectionate tone. For a moment, the weight of your secret felt just a little lighter, his unwavering love wrapping around you like a shield against the storm you knew was coming soon.

If you were being honest, you had expected the night to end like this. Not with warmth and laughter, but with words sharp enough to leave invisible cuts. You hadn't anticipated, however, that it would be for entirely different reasons from those you thought. Or maybe, deep down, you had known. You should’ve known, at least, that this subject had probably been taking up residence in his mind throughout the day.

It had started so innocently. You had an amazing dinner with Jungkook, sharing Japchae and a bottle of wine. You’d explained your work with Seventeen, detailing the complexities of managing their schedules, moods, and preferences, all while ensuring their cohesive look as a group. He’d listened attentively, supportive as always, even suggesting he could travel with you when his own schedule allowed.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if I could join you and Mingyu for part of the tour?” he had said, his excitement genuine.

The night seemed perfect and as it came to a close, you insisted on helping him at least put the dishes back in the cupboard. But Jungkook refused, gently telling you to go get ready for bed while he took care of all the cleaning himself. Feeling the drowsiness from the wine setting in, you didn’t put up much of a fight and headed off to unwind.

You were calmly brushing your teeth when Jungkook entered the bathroom, quietly sitting on the toilet lid, after putting Bam in his room to sleep. Through the mirror, you saw his eyes heavy with sleep and the lingering effects of the wine on his face.

“You didn’t have your phone with you today?” he asked after a moment, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you through half-closed eyes.

You paused mid-brush, the question catching you off guard. “I did,” you replied after a pause, spitting out the toothpaste. “But it ran out of battery at some point during the day, and I didn’t see it until I got here.”

Jungkook didn’t respond immediately. He simply watched you, his expression unreadable. “Where did you go after the meeting?”

You frowned, sensing something off in his tone. You hadn’t expected him to ask about your day in such detail, especially considering how understanding he’d been about your busy schedule. You could tell there was something in his tone that made it feel less like casual curiosity and more like... concern, maybe even unease.

You quickly finished brushing your teeth and rinsed your mouth, turning to face him, your hand still holding the toothbrush in a vague gesture of distraction.

“I went for a meal with Dahee,” you said slowly, testing the waters. “We haven’t seen each other in ages, and it was nice to catch up.”

His jaw tightened slightly and Jungkook sat there, watching you with a contemplative expression, his gaze flicking to the toothbrush you were setting down on the counter. “And how did you arrange that?”

“Through my phone…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Right,” he muttered, nodding almost imperceptibly. “So your phone died, but you managed to message Dahee before that?” His voice was calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You paused, trying to gauge his mood. Jungkook was always the type to give you space if you needed and he had never been insecure about your relationship, nor had he shown any distrust towards you at any time during the past six months. But there was an intensity in his eyes now that made you wonder if something was bothering him, if he would have talked to someone who was possibly much braver than you when it came to telling the truth to his face.

“Jungkook,” you said, turning to face him fully after drying your hands on the towel and placing your toothbrush beside his. “What’s going on? Are you upset I went out with my best friend?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You couldn’t text or call me back? Not even once?”

His words hung in the air like a challenge, and suddenly the warmth of the evening felt suffocating. “I’ve been busy,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “I told you today would be packed.”

“And you couldn’t spare five seconds to let me know you were okay?” His voice was rising now, the hurt unmistakable.

You blinked, his words landing heavier than you expected. Jungkook’s tone wasn’t angry, but it was raw, tinged with something that felt like hurt. His wide eyes searched for yours, the vulnerability in them throwing you off balance.

“I—” you started, only to falter. Maybe you deserved it after ignoring his multiple missed calls. “Kook, my phone was dead. I didn’t even think about it because it was such a last-minute thing with Dahee. I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands for a moment. When he looked back up, his expression was softer, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “I know you weren’t ignoring me. It's just... when you didn’t have your phone with you, and I couldn’t reach you... I started to wonder if you were avoiding me after this morning.”

And there it was.

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to scare you off with the idea of moving in; I just thought that—”

He broke off, running a hand through his hair. The vulnerability etched across his face made your heart ache. You knew, from the moment you had walked out of the kitchen this morning, stating you needed to think about it, that this matter would linger unresolved in his mind. You had felt it would create a tension that would only grow if you didn’t address it according to his timing.

“You just thought what?” you prompted gently, your voice soft but insistent.

“That it might bring us closer,” he finally said, looking up at you. “That would show you how serious I am about us. About you.”

The warmth of his words seeped into your chest, the tenderness behind them making your heart flutter. But just as quickly, doubt crept in.

You swallowed hard, your thoughts swirling. You told yourself Jungkook wasn’t trying to guilt-trip you about this—at least, that’s what you kept repeating, hating yourself for even entertaining the idea. Still, the unease lingered inside, as if your freedom to think it over was somehow a source of discomfort for him.

You couldn’t help but study his face, your eyes scanning every feature, searching for even the slightest hint of uncertainty about this. There was none—his expression was steady, resolute. Unlike your own mind, which was spiraling, racing through every possible reason for your hesitation.

“I meant it,” he stated, eyes searching for something in yours. “I don’t want you to be anywhere else but here with me. I love having you around. And honestly, it feels like the right time."

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling heavily, before opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. Entering the bedroom felt like seeking refuge, as if the space could somehow ease the tightness in your chest and help you breathe better. His words echoed in your mind, their gravity sinking in as you started pacing around his bedroom, your movements restless.

Your thoughts raced wildly—this wasn’t just a step; it was a leap, one that would change everything. The idea was both thrilling and utterly terrifying.

And you wanted it. Didn’t you?

Jungkook was everything you’d ever dreamed of—kind, stable, and endlessly patient with every quirk and flaw you carried. You loved him, deeply and fiercely. Yet, the thought of merging your lives so intimately made your heart race for reasons that weren’t entirely joyful.

The events of the past week and this afternoon loomed in your mind, a dark shadow cast over the light you’d found with him, lingering just enough to make you question if now was the right time.

Jungkook came out of the bathroom and was now standing near the closet door, watching you silently as you paced around, his dark eyes tracking your every move with a mix of curiosity and patience. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but more calm than before. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing for an answer—just waiting, giving you the space to process what he’d said.

“I… I don’t know,” you began, biting your lip. “It’s a big step, don’t you think?”

He nodded, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “I know,” he replied gently. “It’s a huge step, but I’m ready for it, and I want to take it with you.”

You took another deep breath, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the walls closing in around you. Jungkook’s expression faltered, confusion flashing across his features as he watched you.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you said finally, your words carefully chosen. “I just… I feel like maybe it’s too soon?”

He studied you with a frown. “Too soon? Y/N, it’s been six months. I love you. I want to build a life with you.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “And I love you too. But…” you trailed off, unable to put into words your emotions.

“But what?”

Oh, I don't know, I'm kind of keeping a secret from you that I slept with your best friend four years ago and we pretended we didn't know each other to your face, and I don't know how to deal with that. Do you still want me to move in?

The absurdity of saying it aloud hit you like a cold wave, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn't just the words themselves, it was the potential devastation they carried, the way they could shatter everything you and Jungkook had carefully built together so far. Not that this situation was making things much better, you thought.

You shook your head as if trying to physically dislodge the thought. This wasn’t the time, not now. Maybe not ever. But the weight of the unspoken truth lingered above your head, pressing down on you even as you stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom.

This wasn’t about doubting your feelings for him. You loved Jungkook more than words could express. He had shown you time and again that he was there for you, steady and unwavering, no matter what. But taking this step—making this commitment—wasn’t just about love. It was about letting go of the fears that whispered what-ifs in the quiet corners of your mind.

And mostly, letting go of the past. What you weren't sure you were ready to do anymore.

You had been so sure of yourself just hours ago. Why doubt clawed at your chest now?

Finally, you stopped pacing and turned to face him, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if for comfort. You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “But what about everything else? My work, your schedule? It’s a lot to juggle.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll figure it out. I just want to be with you, come home to you. I think it could be amazing. Just think about it, babe, no more running back and forth, no more late-night drives. It’s closer to work, and you’d waste less time in traffic.”

“What about my apartment?” you asked, but deep down it was clear you were just looking for reasons to stand your ground.

His response was immediate, as if he’d already thought of it. “You can turn it into your studio. I can help you with that.”

“You’ve thought of all this.” It wasn’t a question, though it sounded like one.

“I have,” he admitted, his tone soft but certain. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

What the hell was wrong with you? Why didn’t you want to live with this perfect man standing in front of you, offering everything you’d ever wanted?

You chewed your lip again, hesitating before you spoke again. “I just think we should wait a little longer.”

Jungkook sighed, and the playful lightness from earlier vanished. “Y/N, if this is about me leaning on you too much, then say so. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“No, it’s not that,” you replied quickly, though doubts began to creep in.

“Then what is it?” he asked, his tone tinged with hurt.

You opened your mouth to explain but faltered. How could you share that the memory of Mingyu’s piercing gaze and your unresolved history loomed in your mind? That, despite your love for Jungkook, moving in together felt like a complicated risk right now?

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. It’s just…” You sighed, shaking your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re acting like I should drop everything and just say yes!”

His expression darkened, confusion morphing into irritation. “I thought we were building a future together, and now it feels like you’re pulling away!”

“It’s too soon!” you shouted back, the admission tumbling out before you could stop it.

Jungkook blinked, his expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. “Too soon? Y/N, we’ve been together for six months. I love you. I want to build a life with you. How is that too soon?”

“I don’t know!” you cried, running a hand through your hair again. “I just… I need more time, okay?”

“More time for what?” His voice cracked, the vulnerability in his eyes making your stomach churn. “To figure out if you even want this? If you even want me?”

“Don’t do that,” you said sharply, your hands trembling. “Don’t twist this into me not loving you, because you know that’s not true.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, stepping closer. “Because right now, it feels like you’re running away.”

“I’m not running away!” you yelled, your voice echoing in the bedroom. “I’m just… I’m trying to figure things out. My work, your schedule—there’s so much to juggle.”

“I told you: we can figure it out together,” he said, his tone softening for a moment. “But I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. I need to know you’re all in.”

Your throat tightened, tears stinging your eyes. “I am all in,” you whispered, though now even you weren’t sure if it was entirely true.

“Then prove it,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Because right now, it doesn’t feel like you are.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words crushing you. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came. How could you explain the doubts that clawed at you? How could you explain to him that you were scared to death that your past would come back to destroy what you had built together without telling him who your past was?

Silence lingered between you, heavy and suffocating. Your shoulders slumped as you sat on the edge of the bed trying to control your legs that you hadn't realized were shaking. “I’m too tired for this right now, Jungkook. Can we please talk tomorrow?”

He stood there for a moment, staring at you with a mixture of hurt and anger before shaking his head. “Fine.”

Jungkook grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and headed for the couch, the soft sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. You stood there, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror wall, tears streaming down your face for the first time this week.

The night had ended exactly as you’d expected. Just not for the reasons you’d hoped.

You’d officially step into your new role as Seventeen’s lead stylist three days later, after submitting your resignation letter to Elle Magazine. The transition from one job to the other had been anything but smooth, even though HYBE had done their part to ease the process. You were grateful for their professionalism and for agreeing to handle any complications with your former employer, even providing a temporary replacement until a permanent hire could fill your position, showing how much they wanted you to work with them.

They wanted you to start immediately, which meant you’d already spent the last three days coordinating the group’s wardrobe remotely, finalizing adjustments, sending approvals through a dizzying chain of emails, and constantly contacting their former stylist, named Mitsuri Miyawaki, known as Stormi.

Three whole days of nonstop emails, virtual meetings, and late-night alterations that had blurred together, confined to your apartment-turned-studio, sewing and sketching, and though you were now more excited about the chance to leave an even greater mark in the fashion and entertainment industry, your whole body bears witness to your tiredness.

All of this, however, meant that you hadn’t spoken or seen Jungkook in three whole days. The next morning, when you woke up, he had already left for work, and you couldn’t wait for him to come back, since doing so would’ve made you late. The only messages exchanged between the two of you over the past three days had been about Bam, aside from the one you sent this morning: a simple "Fighting ❤️," knowing today would be the release of Left and Right.

You wished things were different right now, but there wasn’t much you could do to improve the situation, especially since your answer to what he wanted so desperately remained unchanged.

As always, for the past three days you have been using your coping mechanism: focusing on work to forget your problems.

And Stormi had been a lifeline in your chaos. To your surprise, she was now TXT’s new stylist and, apparently, also Vernon’s girlfriend. That particular tidbit had been casually dropped into one of your conversations catching you off guard, but making you have an immense empathy for her immediately, since you were practically in the same boat.

She was extremely kind and attentive to your questions, and within just a few days, the two of you had already spoken more than you had with anyone else this week, constantly staying in touch through countless messages, video and phone calls. Her guidance was invaluable, but it was clear she was more than ready to hand over the reins.

For your first day, she had offered to show you around the building and take you to the cafeteria for an iced americano, mentioning it was one of the largest and most varied she had ever seen, which, of course, you couldn’t deny.

“Have you met Choi Arin sunbaenim, yet? The supervisor?” Mitsuri asked you, when you two entered the cafeteria.

You shook your head, scanning the spacious cafeteria with curiosity as you joined the line to place your orders. You immediately recognized some familiar artists scattered at tables, chatting and eating animatedly, along with various members of the staff team.

“Not yet,” you admitted, glancing at Mitsuri as you queued up to place your orders. “We've only communicated through email. She mentioned she'd stop by my studio before introducing me to the members.”

One of the things you had discovered was that here, the team of stylists of each group had their own separate space to work, even though the general HYBE wardrobe room was available to anyone who needed it. And since you were in charge of guiding Seventeen’s stylist team, you also had a private studio for yourself, which you had appreciated very much.

“She's a cow,” Mitsuri said, without beating around the bush. “She’s been on my case since day one. Honestly, it’s a miracle I wasn’t fired when she found out about my relationship with Hansol.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “She’s the one who discovered it?”

“Unfortunately.” Mitsuri rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I'm guessing she didn't approve?” You let out a genuine chuckle at the expression on her face.

“That’s putting it lightly,” Mitsuri snorted, grabbing a tray for her order. “She’s a stickler for rules, and she doesn’t care much for personal connections interfering with work. Can’t say I blame her entirely, things can get messy if you’re not careful, but still, it’s exhausting.”

“She must’ve been intense,” you said, cringing at the thought of a stern supervisor breathing down your neck.

“Oh, absolutely,” Mitsuri said, chuckling softly. “To be fair, HYBE has some pretty strict policies about that sort of thing. But you know how it is—long hours, close quarters. Things happen.” She shrugged. “That's why I was relocated.”

The mention of personal connections and professionalism hit a little too close to home, given the delicate balance you were already trying to maintain between your personal and professional life. The last thing you needed was for someone like Arin to scrutinize your every move.

Mitsuri seemed to sense your unease, her expression softening.

“Don’t let her intimidate you, though,” she continued, her tone lightening as you moved down the line. “You’re ridiculously talented. They wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t think you could handle it.”

Her words brought a small smile to your lips. “Thanks, Stormi. That means a lot.”

She shrugged with a grin. “Just speaking the truth. Besides, you’re gonna kill it here. I’ve seen your work and it’s amazing. The guys are lucky to have you.”

The line moved forward, and you placed your order, grateful for the brief reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind as always. While Mitsuri grabbed a piece of iced lemon loaf cake to enjoy right away, you decided your stomach couldn’t handle much more than an espresso to keep you awake. Still, you couldn’t resist grabbing a chocolate chip cookie for later because it looked too good to pass up.

“Okay, but enough about Arin,” Mitsuri said, offering you a reassuring smile. “You’re going to love working with Seventeen. They’re a handful, sure, but they’re good guys. They make all the stress worth it. And if you ever need a break or a rant session, just call me. I’ll sneak you out for coffee, or a drink if it’s really bad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, her easy going demeanor putting you at ease despite the lingering nerves. “I might take you up on that.”

As the barista handed over your orders, Mitsuri raised an eyebrow, her smile never fading. “You already know some of them, right?”

The two of you weaved through the maze of tables, heading toward one near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight streamed in, highlighting the bustling cafeteria as you settled into your seats, the view of the city below serving as a stunning backdrop.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding as you took a sip of your coffee. “Seokmin, Minghao and... Mingyu. They are friends with Jungkook. I don’t know them much more than that.”

You knew that starting a friendship by lying wasn’t the best approach. But what could you do? She was still a stranger—albeit a dear one, but a stranger nonetheless. It wasn’t like you could just spill personal details about your life, especially when it came to your past. The NDA was still in effect, after all.

After your answer, Mitsuri proceeded to give you a complete dossier on each of the members, describing them with an excited smile and evident affection. It was clear that she had loved working with them, and it probably hadn’t been easy to be reassigned to another group. Still, she seemed to like TXT just as much, mentioning that they were great, though less chaotic than Seventeen.

Despite the nervousness, you found yourself laughing, already imagining what kind of dynamic they must have within the group. It sounded like Seventeen was a vibrant mix of personalities, each one offering something unique to the group, and you’d soon be a part of that energy.

“Jeonghan looks like an angel, he’s even nicknamed Angel, but trust me, there’s nothing angelic about him. Not in a bad way, though,” Mitsuri added with a grin. “I say this with great affection. His language of love is disturbance. He’s a great listener also.”

“Disturbance as a love language, huh?” you chuckled, taking another sip of your coffee. “Sounds... intriguing.”

“Oh, it is,” Mitsuri replied, her grin widening. “But you'll love him. Jeonghan has this way of making everyone feel at ease, like he’s scheming something, but in a way that makes you curious rather than nervous. He’s got that kind of charm.”

You couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm contagious. It was clear she held a deep affection for the group, which eased some of your anxieties about stepping into your new role. If they were anything like Mitsuri described, you had a feeling this job, though challenging, might also be a lot of fun.

As the conversation continued, Mitsuri moved on to talk about Joshua, the group's resident gentleman, and his impeccable manners that somehow made his occasional mischievous moments more surprising. Then there was Seungkwan, who, according to Mitsuri, was a whirlwind of energy and emotion, a living embodiment of both comedy and heartfelt sincerity.

“Don’t even get me started on him,” Mitsuri said, shaking her head fondly. “Seungkwan’s like a serotonin boost in human form. But be prepared, he’ll probably want your opinion on everything, from wardrobe choices to which snacks should be stocked in this bedroom.”

You laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. He sounds like he’d be hard to say no to.”

“Oh, he is,” she confirmed with a mock-serious nod. “And then there’s Mingyu…” Mitsuri’s tone shifted slightly, a hint of something playful but cautious creeping into her voice. “You’ve already met him, right?”

“Briefly,’ you said, keeping your tone neutral. “We were introduced through Jungkook a while back.”

Mitsuri hummed thoughtfully. “Well, Mingyu is... Mingyu,” she said finally, her words laced with amusement. “He’s an absolute sweetheart. Tall, a bit clumsy, but honestly one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet. Not to mention, he’s ridiculously good-looking.” She smirked. “He’s got this... aura about him. Basically the human equivalent of a golden retriever. But don’t let that fool you. He’s a flirt, and he knows it.”

A shiver ran down your spine. Oh, you knew it too.

You wanted to smile at the fact that, despite everything, Mingyu was still the same, but you held yourself back. Every detail Mitsuri described knocked on the door to the basement of your heart, bringing back a faint sense of familiarity you hadn’t realized was still lingering there. It felt like looking at a photo of someone you used to know.

You just nodded, filing away the information.

“He’s a perfectionist, though, so don’t be surprised if he’s the one asking for adjustments on his outfits the most.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Trust me,” Mitsuri said, leaning back in her chair. “You’re about to experience the Mingyu Effect firsthand. And once you do, there’s no going back.”

You knew she was right. You had lived through it, you were more than familiar with it.

Mitsuri had moved on to the next member, and you were lifting your coffee to your lips, laughing at her description of Hoshi, when your attention shifted to the counter. You analyzed a group of four guys who had just entered the cafeteria, causing several heads to turn in their direction.

They all had their backs turned to you and Mitsuri. The first one had black hair, and despite his small stature, his physique was strong and well-proportioned. The second one wasn’t much taller, with a lean, toned physique and brownish hair. The guy who came right after him had light brown hair as well, but his muscular, athletic build—with broad shoulders and strong arms—made him clearly the second tallest of the group.

The last one of the group was much taller than the rest, with a long, muscular torso that clearly drew attention wherever he went, including from the group of girls sitting just a few inches away from him. His black hair was a little messy, falling over his ears and you could see the muscles on his back through the fabric of the white shirt he was wearing.

From that angle, he looked like thousands of other ordinary men in Seoul, but you knew exactly who he was.

It was as if he had been summoned.

Unable to look away, you were paralyzed, waiting for the moment when he would turn around and spot you, right in his line of sight, after nearly two weeks since you told him you would think about it and had remained completely radio silent.

“Y/N?" Mitsuri calls out to you, following the direction of your gaze. You hold your breath for a moment, relieved when a group of staff members stepped into her line of sight. "Is everything okay?”

You blink, stunned. This couldn't be happening. “Uh... Yeah. I... I just…” You trail off, searching for the right words, but your mind feels foggy as you try to focus on anything else but the man standing across the room.

You looked back at the counter and saw his eyes locked on you, his face completely incredulous, as if he was feeling the same way you were about him: like the sight of you there was some sort of figment of his imagination. He blinked a few times and you swallowed hard.

The moment you saw his feet moving, instinct takes over your body, and a surge of self-preservation propels you out of your chair.

“I'm sorry, Storm,” you said, glancing at her. “I have to go.”

She looks puzzled by your sudden behavior but simply says, “Oh, it's okay.”

“I just remembered I need to make some adjustments, and…” Your eyes dart up, catching sight of him coming closer. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for everything.”

You grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and rushes between the tables, darting out of the cafeteria at a speed you didn’t know was humanly possible. Without daring to look back, you hurry toward the elevator's hallway, your heart racing, unsure if he’s following you or not.

The elevator doors seem to take an eternity to open as you anxiously tap all them, stealing quick glances over your shoulder. Each second feels like a lifetime, your heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the hum of the bustling building.

You silently beg for the elevator to arrive, gripping the strap of your bag so tightly your knuckles ache. Just as the sign shows it’s on the 9th floor, you catch sight of him stepping into the hallway, his tall figure unmistakable even from a distance.

“Y/N.”

The sound of his voice calling out your name freezes you in place, sending another chill down your spine again. You feel the weight of his gaze even before you turn to meet it, and you swallow hard again, hand hovering over the elevator button as you consider your options. Run, face him, pretend you didn’t hear him—none of them feel like the right answer.

You glance over your shoulder, trying to appear composed, though every nerve in your body is screaming to run. Mingyu is just a few feet away now, his expression a mix of disbelief and something you can’t quite place. Relief? Confusion? Frustration? Maybe all three.

“Y/N,” he calls once more, and this time, you can hear the unmistakable urgency in his voice. The gentle way he says your name tugs at something inside you, making it even harder to stand your ground.

The elevator dings, its doors sliding open, offering an escape route. You hesitate, torn between stepping inside and hearing what he has to say. Suddenly, your feet seem to have forgotten their purpose right at the moment that you wanted to shield yourself from the storm brewing between you and the man standing behind you.

“Y/N. Seriously?” he says softly, his tone carrying a thousand unspoken meanings.

You exhale sharply, your resolve crumbling at the vulnerability in his tone. Slowly, you turn to face him, your bag still clutched tightly against your side. His dark eyes lock onto yours, searching for something, though you’re not sure what.

“Please,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Just give me a minute.”

“Hi," you finally manage to say. You’re trying to figure out what to say, but your head is filled with a jumble of meaningless words. Hi? Really? Who, in their right mind, says something as dumb as 'Hi' at a time like this?

"Are you...?" he begins, his voice breathless. "Why are you avoiding me?"

You blink, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you're paralyzed, unable to respond. It feels as though time slows, the noise of the building fading into the background as his voice echoes in your mind.

It wasn’t exactly your intention to avoid him, but lately, it seemed like that was your only response to everything being thrown your way.

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come out right away. “I’m not... I wasn’t…” You trail off, unsure of how to even begin explaining. “I didn't mean to,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. You take a step back, trying to create some space between you two, but his gaze doesn’t waver.

“You didn’t mean to what?” His voice is softer now, tinged with something that sounds like frustration, but also concern.

You glance down, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been trying to avoid coming back to you all at once. You want to tell him everything—the reasons you’ve kept your distance, the mess of emotions tangled up in your heart—but it’s too much to say all at once. It’s too raw, too complicated. You need to be mentally and emotionally prepared for a conversation like this.

He stared at you for a beat longer, his brows furrowing as if he were trying to read you. It felt like he was slowly beginning to grasp the weight of the situation, the realization dawning on him bit by bit. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” you replied, your throat tight. The tension between you felt palpable, like you were both standing on the edge of something you weren’t ready to face yet. “It has.”

His voice was laced with something that sounded almost… regretful as he said, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again after...”

You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his tone. “Yeah. Neither did I.”

But your confusion only deepened with every word he said. He was the one who left. He was the one who disappeared without a trace after that last day. He was the one who had shoved that NDA down your throat. And yet, here he was, looking at you like he hadn’t wanted that.

You couldn’t make sense of it.

The air between you felt thick, suffocating you in this huge hallway. You looked away, trying to steady your breath, trying to keep control. But his presence was overwhelming, stirring things inside you that you didn't even know how to explain without seeming like you were still madly in love with him.

Because you weren't.

You were hopelessly in love with Jungkook and only him.

“Mingyu,” you said, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat as you speak his name out loud for the first time. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

He leaned down, his face leveling with yours.

“Are you kidding me?” His eyes were wild, full of disbelief. He took a step forward while you took one back, your back hitting the metal of the elevator doors. “You think I’m just going to bump into you again, say ‘Hey, Y/N, what’s up?’ and let you walk away again? Just like that? No more words, no more talking for another four fucking years? Have you even thought about talking at all?”

Your breath catches at his words, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s collapsing in on you. You wanted to make sense of what he meant by emphasizing the word again. But at the same time, you were afraid that knowing might make things inside you worse. His intensity, the raw emotion in his voice, it’s all so much harder to face than you ever expected.

“I'm not ready for this conversation yet,” you admit quietly, looking away from him to stare at your own shoes.

“You need to be ready to talk to me?”

“If there’s anyone I need to be ready for, it’s you,” you admitted, your voice almost low enough that he wouldn't hear. But he did. You saw it in the way his entire face seemed to contort in pain, exactly like the pain twisting in your own chest.

“I just need…” he begins, searching for your gaze. “How are you? How long have you been back?”

“I’m fine,” you answered mechanically. “I got back in August.”

For the last four years, you've been angry, convincing yourself you were above it all, but just one single look at his face was enough to make you understand that you weren't.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Somehow, you're holding it together, barely managing to keep your composure, but you knew that if you stayed even a second longer, you wouldn't be able to keep it up. The way Mingyu's face seems to mirror the confusion that's going on in your head, combined with only two hours of sleep and no clue when this day would end, is too much for you to handle right now. You need to get out before everything unravels.

“I have to go,” you say, your voice suddenly desperate. “Okay?”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked away, heading straight for the first elevator with its doors wide open. You’re aware he could’ve caught up to you in a few quick steps, his long legs easily closing the distance, but he doesn’t. And as the elevator jolts downward to the 15th floor, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he's still there, just behind you.

When Choi Arin finally arrived at your studio, around three in the afternoon, your nerves had completely calmed, though a throbbing pain in your head prevented you from thinking clearly enough to continue sewing the gold studs onto the leather of the black jacket that would soon belong to Wonwoo.

To your surprise, she didn’t say much, simply asking you to follow her—and so you did. Now, the two of you were trapped in the elevator, traveling from the 15th floor to the 6th in almost complete silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the metal.

You glanced at her from the corner of your eye, but she remained unchanged: her gaze was focused on the metal doors, her posture erect, hands clasped behind her back.

Her demeanor almost made her seem like a strict high school principal, but she was much younger than you had anticipated. If it weren’t for the badge hanging from her neck, clearly marking her position within the company, you might have easily mistaken her for one of the company’s female artists, especially considering her striking beauty.

“How has your first day been so far?” she finally asked, turning her body slightly to look at you. Her eyes are piercingly intimidating, yet her voice remained calm and gentle, echoing through the elevator.

You felt the weight of her gaze, the intensity of her presence making it hard to keep your composure. It's as if she’s already assessing you, measuring you in ways you aren't prepared for. You straighten your posture, trying to mask the nerves bubbling up inside of you.

“It’s been... busy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though her intense gaze still made you feel on edge all over again. “I’ve been mostly settling in and getting familiar with the team. There’s a lot to process, but it’s all exciting.”

Arin nodded thoughtfully, her expression unreadable as she listened. “I’m glad to hear that. Transitioning into a new role, especially one like this, is never easy.” Her gaze briefly flicked down to your sketchbook, which you clutched in your hands. “I’ve heard you worked with Bangtan Sonyeondan before.”

You nodded, feeling a hint of pride. “Yeah, I worked with them for a while.”

At that moment, you assumed she would start a conversation about your past work experience, as most people in this field flipped out with excitement when they learned you were responsible for securing Dua Lipa a million-dollar contract with Versace or how you had styled BTS for the VOGUE X GQ Korea 2022 January issue and the Grammy’s.

But you couldn't be more wrong.

The way she clicked her tongue and pressed the button to stop the elevator on the eighth floor made her intentions very clear, exactly as Stormi had predicted: she wanted to intimidate you.

“This isn’t like the last time you worked here, so I would like to clear a few things up.”

Arin’s voice remained calm, but there was an edge to it now, one that made the air between you feel thick. She stood straight, her posture unwavering, as if she were delivering a warning she expected you to understand without questioning.

“First of all,” she began. “I don’t like you and that’s not going to change. If it was it for me, you wouldn't have been hired. I know your history and I don't approve of it. I’m the supervisor here, which means you answer to me. I don’t care that you have experience in this field or that your boyfriend is famous. I’m the one in charge here.”

The weight of Arin’s words hitted you like a physical blow, each one cutting deeper than the last, the abrupt shift in tone catching you off guard. You tried to keep your face neutral, but it was hard when everything inside you screamed to respond. You had worked for years to earn your place in this industry, to get to a position where you could walk into any room with confidence. But here, in front of Arin, that confidence felt like it was slowly slipping away.

“I don’t care how many people you’ve worked with, how many magazines you’ve graced, or how many contracts you’ve secured. None of that matters here. This is a different ball game, and the rules are mine. You follow them, or you’re out.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, and for a moment, you wondered if you should just walk away. But you knew that would be foolish. No matter how much Arin seemed to want to break you down, you weren’t the kind of person to let someone like her get the best of you.

“I understand,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

"I expect you to follow protocol exactly as it's laid out, no exceptions," she said, leaning forward slightly. "And whatever personal connections you might have? Leave them at the door. This is a professional environment, and I won’t tolerate anything less than that."

You took a steadying breath, forcing yourself to remain composed. "Understood," you said evenly, meeting her eyes.

Her lips curled into a tight smile, but it wasn’t warm. “I want you to know that there will be no fraternizing with any of the group members. If you do, you’ll be fired. Do you understand?”

The intensity of her statement lingered in the air, her piercing gaze challenging you to flinch. But you didn’t. You square your shoulders and met her eyes, willing your voice to stay firm. “Crystal clear,” you replied.

“This is a very different environment,” she continued, her eyes locking with yours, as if daring you to challenge her. “Here, we don’t do things the way you might be used to. There’s no room for mistakes, no room for error. We work fast, we work hard, and we work with a level of professionalism that you might not have encountered before. I trust you understand that.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, her subtle jab not lost on you. Instead, you forced a polite nod, your expression calm despite the fire building in your chest. “Yes. And I respect your position. I’m here to do my job, and I intend to do it well.”

“We’ll see about that. I have my doubts. I hope you prove me wrong.”

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. The pressure in the air felt suffocating, but you could tell that Arin wasn’t finished yet.

“You’ll be working under my direct supervision,” she continued, her tone sharper now. “And if I catch even the slightest hint that you're not living up to the standard I expect, you’ll be gone before you even realize what happened. Got it?”

You didn't even know if she had the power to do it, but it was clear that there was no room for negotiation. It was clear that Arin wasn’t interested in a discussion, only in making sure you knew exactly where you stood in this power dynamic.

“Got it,” you said again, your words tight but firm.

“I’m in charge here,” she adds again. “Anything I need goes through me.”

“Sounds good.”

“I don’t know how your last experience here worked, and I don’t care. Anything goes down with you and someone in the group, you’re fired. Remember one thing: I have eyes everywhere.”

The repetition of her words didn’t escape you, but you didn’t feel the need to comment on it. Arin was clearly intent on asserting dominance and testing how far she could push you. It was as if she needed to keep reminding you of the same boundaries, like she was trying to convince herself more than anything else.

You noticed the way her eyes kept scanning you, searching for cracks in your composure. It was strange—almost obsessive, as if she feared that a single slip-up would unravel everything. You could feel her frustration simmering just beneath the surface, her control slipping in these subtle ways that only someone used to being in power would notice. You almost wondered what it was about you that made her so intent on stamping out any hint of rebellion.

“Understood,” you repeated, careful to keep your tone neutral. Your mind was already spinning with the implications of her words.

You had worked in this industry for a long time, and Arin’s rules seemed arbitrary, almost paranoid. She couldn’t control everything, and if she didn’t relax, her insecurity would show.

You still had a job to do, and you weren’t about to let anyone make you doubt your place. “I’m here to work,” you said, trying to keep the slight edge from your voice. “And I’ll follow the protocol, exactly as you laid it out. No issues.”

Arin paused for a moment, studying you intently, as if she were searching for any hint of insincerity. But when her gaze softened, even just a fraction, you knew that she was registering your compliance. It wasn’t the warmth of trust, just the relief of a brief moment of silence where she wasn’t feeling threatened.

“Good,” she said at last, her voice slightly less sharp, though still guarded. “I expect no less.”

She pressed the button and the elevator started moving again with a jolt that almost made you lose your balance.

When you exited the elevator, you walked behind her until you reached one of the rooms, marked with a sign that reads: SEVENTEEN - Do Not Disturb - Rehearsal.

“Welcome to the team,” Arin said over her shoulder, her tone colder than the temperature of the hallway. It wasn’t a greeting—it was more of a command. And then she opened the door to the practice room.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?

Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.

The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.

But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.

I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.

One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.

Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.

I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.

I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.

Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago

Text

Heartless Pt. 3

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

are we…lowkey…getting somewhere?

The flight wasn't as grueling as you thought it would've been, it was an eight-hour nonstop flight and you were lucky you went at night. You stared blankly out of the window, blinking at the stars. You didn't even realize that you were drifting away softly, your lashes fluttered and drooped and then everything went black, the soft hum of the jet reverberating in your ears as you slipped to sleep, sleeping for a dreamless night with your head in the literal clouds.

Miguel was quite literally nocturnal. He could never sleep at night, even if he wanted to and even if he tried. He pulled out his laptop and started working, going over some cooked-up books that his crooked accountant had given him. Maybe he was paranoid by triple-checking everything, he had gone through your background check multiple times and it still didn't feel enough, he still didn't feel like it was accurate to the character you were playing for him. Like a facade. Miguel was absorbed in his work, he didn't realize a few hours passed already. He still wasn't tired, and he wanted to avoid sleeping deeply for as long as he could- he couldn't be in a position where his bad dreams could get at him again. He frowned at the startling thought and downed the last of his Merlot. Your soft breathing made him break away for a moment, his head shifted to look at you and you were sound asleep. Your head rested to the side of you away from him and your hair was covering your face. Miguel hesitantly reached his hand to stroke away the strands that were blocking out your features, maybe he just wanted to check if you weren't awake, or maybe he just wanted to gawk at you without the consequence of your smart mouth or belittling stare- either way, he couldn't stop his fingers from brushing the hair away from your face. You breathed deeply and mumbled something incoherent that Miguel couldn't comprehend, Miguel felt you shift in your seat. He immediately retracted his hand, brows knitting together as he studied what you looked like in your natural form, when you weren't pretending to be someone else.

Again. He thought you looked nice. Miguel grunted softly at his ceaseless gaping, he was being ridiculous, staring at an attractive woman as if he'd never seen one before. He won't succumb to something as juvenile as this, his pressures lie elsewhere and he won't let his confusion around you cloud his thoughts to things that matter more. If he was being completely honest with himself, he needed some sort of vacation- he had grown tired of being on edge back home, looking over his shoulder, making sure to preserve what was his. How was he supposed to become more powerful and spread his influence if he was still looking after what he already had? It was startling for him to be in control of so many things at once, but as always, he pushed it down. There were still a few hours before you landed and Miguel didn't want to be engrossed by work anymore, he wasn't paying attention to it. He decided to pull out a book he still hadn't finished reading, he hadn't had time to indulge in such normal trivial things as reading. There were moments when you stirred and twisted in your sleep, surely you weren't comfortable in heels and a tight little dress but Miguel didn't want to meddle with you further. He's done more than enough.

“Hey.“

A soft gentle voice made your eyes scrunch.

“Hey, wake up. We're here.” The voice urged again.

Your lashes fluttered when you finally realized that it was Miguel. And that it was also Miguel who was had his hand on your face. You jolted awake, Miguel was next to you but it felt like he was so far away, you didn't realize how little it took for him to extend an arm and brush his fingers against you. The moonlight beamed through the pane, your groggy vision turning into a beautiful portrait of Miguel, illuminating every single feature of him, his brown hair turning honey as the Italian moon hit him perfectly. You shook your head and raised yourself on your seat, still not understanding how you could fall asleep in something so heinously uncomfortable, and even then you still resumed being graceful as always, you wouldn't let that appearance shatter, especially in front of Miguel. His presence itself didnt bother you but what went on in his head did.

Speaking of, Miguel's mind was whirring away but it drew to a blank

There was one thing he wanted to say though; 'Is this what we're doing? Just not talking to each other?’ Well. He preferred that to that polite small talk, you both kept on upholding, the thought made his skin crawl.

The drive to the complex was silent as per usual, but this time it was Miguel who was driving and you were in the front seat. His cars were expensive, his Audi RS Q8 wasn't an exception, it was a sinful amplification of the word money. You settled into the passenger seat, trying not to inspect every single inch of his car like a lost tourist, awing at the model but you contained it, your face expresser something akin to that of being unimpressed and uninterested, when in fact you were the complete opposite. The fact that you had to act this way just to not give Miguel the satisfaction wasn't difficult but inconvenient. You wanted to be yourself, but you didn't want to seem weak in front of him, you won't let that happen. Ever.

You breathed out, your fingers smoothing against the seatbelt, reminding you of the way he so easily trapped you in the plane, that hand keeping you in place. You couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched you like that, well, anyone who even touched you at all in the last few months. Your eyes couldn't help but glance over at him, sneaky eyes trailing over him, almost thickening the distance and tension between you- he was right here, but a million miles away. Miguel's hand slid over the wheel seamlessly, but you noticed his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto it. His jaw ticked as he let out a short frustrated breath, his gaze nothing more than penetrating as he glared at the window, completely unamused- his autopilot mood.

If only he wasn't blinded by rage and other primitive and frankly boring emotions- it was so predictable that it didn't phase you. You pursed your lips and stared outside the window, pensive and aloof as the night clouded your peripheral. the bleak darkness you were gazing at, seemed to reflect Miguel's mood more than anything and you didn't know how to confront this deep tension between you that was certainly getting thicker and thicker. Then your mouth ran before you could check it.

"You'll break it.”You said flatly, brimming with confidence by the way you squared your shoulders, surprised by your own voice thrumming out of your throat.

Miguel's head shifted to regard you. Oh wow, the church mouse finally roars. The fact that you're saying something at all, let alone something in a knowing tone made him halt in his tracks. You seemed so sure of yourself like you knew exactly what he could do. Like you had any idea who he was. Aw, honey. You didn't know anything. You needed to stop pretending like you did

"Hm?” Miguel mumbled impatiently, waiting for you to elaborate on your not-so-graceful statement.

“Don't grip so hard on the wheel. You'll break it.” You replied as if you were bored out of your mind, Miguel despised it entirely. His eyes turned into mere slits when they found his knuckles turning a pale white against the wheel, his veins turning thunderous and borderline pulsating with resigned anger he was used to but now since you pointed it out, he was becoming more aware of his actions than he was happy with. Miguel mostly kept to himself, but primitive emotions such as anger or frustration, creeped out of him slowly and etched at his features like a lingering poison.

"Hm. I see the only time you open your mouth is to critique me.” He replied with a soft snarl.

“I'm not criticizing you. I just don't want this ludicrously expensive car to break under your thumb.”

“I can afford another 10 of these.” Miguel's words ran off his tongue so smoothly you realized the point he was proving: he was extremely wealthy, he didn't need to care about things. It's something that you shouldn't forget. Miguel doesn't conserve material things, why should he? You shouldn't expect him to want to take care of his possessions, though you didn't realize how careless he actually was with it. you wouldn't have guessed a man as arrogant and careful as him within his work and his business to be so callous with his money, but then again- the money spent on a new car is a mere droplet within a river of riches. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You shot him a glare and that's when he muttered flatly, “Don't ever question that again, we clear?”

"Hm. And also, I have a brain and a mouth. When I don't want to talk I won't talk, I don't need to fill the silence with empty words, if I want to talk or call you out on something I will. Just because I don't entertain petty or better yet polite conversation doesn't mean I'm a wallflower or taker of shit, we clear?”

Miguel's face was set in an uncrackable scowl, his jaw ticked as you talked to him in such a patronizing way, it may have been deserved or it may have been a clear indication of your intentions- but either way, he didn't like the way you were talking.

“Careful.”

“We may be married but I will not answer to yo-“

He cut you off sternly with his hand reaching out and gripping your cheeks to close your mouth, it was a warning, the way he stared at you proved that, his hand proved harsher. “I said careful.” You let out a frustrated breath, struggling with your hands on his to pry his iron-like fingers off of your cheeks and chin. Miguel felt you struggle in your seat, hissing and thrashing but he remained unaffected, so completely normal about it all as he kept driving. He released his grip on you and you breathed out deeply, flashing him a look of surprise and hatred. He had a tendency to make people this way and he revelled in it. “Smart mouth...All bark, no bite….it can only get you so far. Remember that the next time you wanna try and lay into me Cariño.”

You remained embittered with Miguel when you got to the beachside apartment complex, you slammed the car door shut harshly, seemingly acting like him for not caring for his little playthings. If he didn’t care, why should you? He could tell by that look on your face you wouldn't be all polite and graceful after what he did. You didn't help him with the bags, you didn't care. The doorman let you in, informing you that the complex would be all yours for the week as he gave you the key. Miguel trudged behind you, carrying the bags up the stairs like they were feathers. You slammed the door in his face but he knee stopped it from closing fully, he knew that you were trying to prove a point and it was dancing on his nerves.

“I’m taking a shower and going to bed. Don’t even think about interrupting me for anything.” You spat out lowly, irritation causing your brows to knit together slightly. Miguel just grunted in response, dropping the bags on the floor gracelessly.

He hadn’t been to this beach house in a while, although it was thoroughly cleaned, it still felt lived in from when he was a kid living here with his family. Miguel didn’t know how to feel about the fond and somewhat nostalgic thought. Then his eyes flicked to the glass cabinet in the corner of the living room. He stepped closer and found the thoroughly familiar photos of him and Gabriel, playing. Careless as ever. He scoffed slightly with a little smile touching at his lips. It was a lot easier back then.

Now he has to deal with a pissed off wife, with a pretty mouth.

You explored the hallway first, walking down and vaguely peeping into every room, but you reached the master bedroom by the end of the hallway. You opened the door and found a beautiful room with a marble layout and wooden details, the balcony you stepped into was slightly protruding, looking out into the grassy planes, sandy beaches and palm trees. Something out of novel. The iron bars were covered in ivy and vines, shrubs and bushes of plenty alonside even more greenery. The moon shone onto the waves hauntingly, creating a halo onto the Earth.

It really was beautiful.

You shifted your head, raising an eyebrow at how big the white bed was, but you didn’t read into it. It’ll be just like it was at home- you and Miguel in seperate rooms, like always. Your heels clicked to the en suite and Jesus Christ, it was huge. Your eyes gleamed from corner to corner of the room, and then you reached the sink and immediately rolled your eyes.

Of course the best room in the building had to be Miguel’s.

There was a tiny frame sitting at the corner of his sink. It was of him holding Gabriel as a newborn, your vision turned sharp as you inspected the photo. Well. Miguel definitely had his boyish charm back then, a shame he doesn’t have it now. His smile would always remain a mystery to you. You settled the frame down and instead you eyed the copous bottles of cologne he had. Each more expensive than the last, as always.

Instead of just gawking around like a fool, you turned the shower on and immediately started stripping of this dress and heels you’ve been subjected too, you grabbed a fresh white towel and threw it to hand over the glass sliding door. You slipped in the shower, letting the warm water travel down every aching sore muscles, you hadn’t been this relieved in a long time.

Miguel, on the other hand, poured himself another incredibly strong scotch, he really needed to absolve himself of…something. He raked an exhausted hand over his face, he grabbed the whole bottle alongside the glass and trudged to his room begrudgingly, hoping to be rid of this night.

You wanted to keep the shower as brief as possible just so you could slip into bed sooner. Fuck. You didn’t bring your bag in here with you. Your shampoo was in it. Shit. You had to make do with what was around you, well, lucky for you, you only had Miguel’s shampoo around. With a defeated sigh, you had to go for it. As if this could get any worse.

You opened up the bottle and raised it to your nose, it smelled…dark? Cederwood. Coffee? Maybe a little bit of vanilla. That was just picking it apart, as a whole it the scent of it was just so… Miguel. Extra thickening? Interesting. Without caring, you squirted some into your palm and lathered it together with your hands, quickly soaking your hair and rubbing it softly into your scalp.

The bubbles surrounding you made the aroma that much more…intense.

Miguel heard the sound of the shower coming from his room, he wanted to grit his teeth until they shattered and fell into his hands. A frission of irritation thrummed at his temple. He swung open his bedroom door hurriedly with the might of one hand and exclaimed, “I swear to God if you’re in here I’m gonna-“

His feet stopped in their tracks. His mind went blank at what he was seeing. He was surprised he didn’t drop his damn scotch.

You going through his wardrobe in a tiny towel, legs dripping and glowing, hair wet and messy, glaring at him with a certain blank apprehension. Almost like a deer in headlights, but what could Miguel say? He was looking at you the exact same way.

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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thatdeadaquarius · 2 years ago

Note

sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.

and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...

SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*

Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO

Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK

Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("

SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-

Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao

Edit Update 4/6/23:

Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol

I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-

Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first

WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3

Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???

Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming,

but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-

Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)

It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.

I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-

It was just…wow. 🥺

You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway

She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.

After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,

Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,

“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *

…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.

…Oh no.

♧

Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!

Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀

Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.

Then he would scribble for hours.

Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)

The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou

At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language

They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol

Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)

But even then not immediately,

Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?

Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)

Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!

It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today

…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…

◇

Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,

or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,

your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue

So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/

Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier

But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats

…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.

You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around

You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps

You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)

And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city

…so why not go?

It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀

You can totally handle being like the traveler too,

You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!

So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems

(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️

And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you

So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with

Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!

...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!

◇

When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-

He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol

He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands

“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...)

But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol

Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?

She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,

His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-”

Cyno stops and blinks.

Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.

You blink.

Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.

The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.

◇

Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner,

As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch

But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.

Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face

The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic

Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,

“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?

Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine

“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,

“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”

Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,

and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too

With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…

Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!

With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands

You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after

You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow

He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away

You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)

The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-

and it fucking explodes.

Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.

The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-

You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)

Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno

Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow

…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,

and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/

Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-

“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."

… and you just 🙂? Cool!

And give a thumbs up👍LMAO

☆

Bonus:

Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.

Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-

Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol

Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao

(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)

♡

ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!

Bro has anyone else had this problem???

I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!

FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH

ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED

And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:

*hint = Atbash

:> good luck!

Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭

Safe Travels,

💀♒

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

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bananayuyu · 2 months ago

Text

all tied up {part 1}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 10.5k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts (all the smut happens in part 2)

A/n: Well I had the goal of making this maybe 2k words initially, and now it's 22.4k so I decided to split it into two parts (please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read part 2 here

Read it on ao3

"Morning."

Your coworker's tone is cold as ice, as if he swallowed the winter air on his way to the building and was now spitting it at you.

"Hi," you grunt, not bothering to look up from your desk.

It was a biting, harsh morning, and the headache you were nursing wasn't doing any favors to your mood. Only minutes into your work day you already felt bleary, your legs still shivering from the short walk between the subway station and the twenty-story building your office rested in. In the mornings you woke it from its slumber; the lights in the lobby blinking on, even the heater rumbling awake as you walked through the door, as if it took a break from its job all night, too. It certainly felt that frosty in here, especially at 7am sharp, when you stumbled in before everyone else. You preferred this early shift and were thankful to be walking out the door so early each day, early enough that even in the dead of winter the sun hadn't yet set. The early mornings never bothered you; the solitude was tender and warm with you, even if the air was cruel on these freezing winter mornings.

The intrusion of your steely coworker was unwelcome, to say the least.

"Why are you here so early?" you ask, a sharp edge to your tone. You're bitter that you won't have your usual hour to yourself, especially given the meeting you are set to have with your boss in just a few hours. You'd needed this time to mentally prepare, and here he was ruining your plans, yet again.

"I figured I'd come in early to get work done before our little meeting with the boss," he replies, a slow sigh leaving his lips and betraying just how tense he is. Well, at least it wasn't just you. You had been dreading this morning since last Friday, when the two of you had your worst argument yet, prompting your boss to demand a meeting with you both. You had no idea what would happen; you'd never had your boss demand a scheduled meeting with you in the six years you'd worked here. Things were different now, now that you worked as a grant writer and not at the front desk, but still it was concerning. He always just met with people spontaneously, and the scheduled bi-weekly meetings for the entire administrative staff were the time where conflicts and confusion were dealt with. He'd never called just two people into his office like this; then again, no one at your company had ever butted heads like you two, so badly that it left the whole office simmering with frustration, everyone dreading the sour expression that permanently settled on your features by the end of each day. You were so different now, so changed from the calm and happy woman they all knew.

You stood to make your way to the kitchen, passing by his desk as you went to turn on the kettle, boiling water for your first tea of the day. This morning called for multiple cups, your throat scratchy and dry from nerves, your body depleted from your lack of sleep. You'd stayed up far too late with your best friend last night, rambling about the meeting, begging her to help you come up with an excuse to stay home. She'd laughed with you, throwing out a few random ideas, but she knew as well as you did that you'd be here today. As much as you dreaded it, you would only miss this meeting if you were on your literal death bed, your job meaning too much to you to lose it.

From this angle he had a perfect view of you, your face scrunched up in concentration as you set the kettle to temperature, placing other employee's dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. You were too obsessed with organization, in a way that made him irrationally angry, but he couldn't stop watching you every day, watching the way you adhered so severely to your little routines, watching the way his interruptions cast your face in worry and made you snap at him. Today, like every Monday, you wore your favorite shoes, the black platform Mary Janes. Up your legs stretched your thigh-high wool socks, also black, held up by a ruffled stretch of gray lace at the top. Over your hips lay a gray tartan skirt, reaching almost down to your socks, leaving an inch of bare thigh exposed in a way he thought wasn't really work appropriate. And then there was your black turtleneck, tight and accentuating your obviously braless chest, the curves and shapes of your body not hidden in the slightest. He was watching you intently, waiting for you to finally notice, and boy was he not disappointed when you finally did.

"You've hid my mug, haven't you," you spit, slamming the dishwasher harder than you needed to. You hadn't seen it in the cabinet, so you'd gingerly searched through the dishwasher too, desperately hoping someone else hadn't used it the previous week and neglected to wash it. Not finding it in there was a relief in some ways, but immediately you knew who was at fault for its disappearance, and his dark chuckle in response to you confirmed your suspicions ten fold. "You're such a dick," you grumble under your breath, reaching for any other random mug in the cabinet, needing something to house the tea you desperately need.

"What was that?" he asks, his tone mocking you, knowing exactly the sentiment of what you'd said even if he hadn't heard you clearly. You sigh and roll your eyes, ripping open your tea bag and plopping it in the mug, gently pouring the steaming liquid over it. "You just love to blame me for everything, don't you, even if you have no proof." His voice is low, dark, and it makes a shiver run through you even as the steam of the water warms your face. "You're cruel y/n, so cruel." His tone of voice makes you feel trapped, even all these feet away, and you just freeze for a bit, your tea steeping a bit longer than it should have. A creak of the building snaps you out of it, and you fling the tea bag into the trash, gently blowing over the mug and taking a tiny sip, testing the temperature.

Finally you turn, catching a glimpse of him. Jeong Yunho, the newest addition to your little office, hired about six months ago now, you realized. The date hit you in the gut this morning; the year had flown by, especially the last half, and in days it would no longer be this year anymore, no longer be the ending of an adventure but rather the start, when you'd have to plan again, think again. His suit today is stone gray, the color only barely darker than his wool overcoat, his tie a dark navy that really just looked black. His shoes were dark navy too; which you only knew because of the difference in the toe box from his other black shoes, the ones he normally wore. It must be a special day, he must be heading to something important after work. Some sort of meeting? No, that wouldn't really make sense, you all didn't work in a field where meetings were held outside of work hours, in restaurants or bars. Unless the meeting was about getting out of here, finding another placement. Maybe a date? Who'd want to date such an asshole, though?

He was rich and good-looking. Even you could recognize that. And boy did it irk you, that he looked so good in his suits, that he wasn't too masculine or too feminine, that his nose sloped in just the perfect way, that his smile was soft and bright and so endearing. You hadn't met many people in your life who were so captivating at first glance, and sure, when he'd first started here a part of you hoped something might happen between the two of you. You'd eat lunch at each other's desks, excitedly discussing your newest grants or talking about your favorite shows, which of course, were the same. It was a blissful few weeks, a beautiful honeymoon of sorts. Of course it couldn't last forever; you landed your dream job, everything you'd been working towards finally coming true last year, a new perfect apartment with your best friend being the cherry on top. Of course this year a man appeared and tried to ruin everything.

The two of you work in silence until 7:45, when everyone else starts arriving for the day, led of course by Dr. Acharya, the supervising psychotherapist. Next is Tally, who gives you a short wave as she heads to reception, her horn-rimmed glasses peeking over the window to blow you a kiss when she finds the mug of tea you'd made waiting for her. Soon many others scramble in together; Marnie, Amir, Rua, and Keisha, each making their way to their individual offices to ready themselves for their first clients. Soon Jongho, in charge of billing and accounting, walks in too, sitting down at his desk next to Yunho. And finally Eliana stumbles in just before eight, her giant coffee in hand, her eyes slightly dark with panic like they always are as she rushes into her office. Your boss, Mr. Kangsoo, won't be in for another hour at least and the day lurches forward as the first clients of the day are brought back for their counseling sessions, the office breaking into a low hum that will stay with you until you leave.

Your digitizing task today is boring but necessary, and that headache isn't leaving you, even with the tea warming your throat and your favorite piano concerto comforting you through the morning. You always loved Rachmaninov in the winter. But even so, your mood was sour, too sour. Yunho and Jongho's comfortable chatter was making your blood boil, making it hard for you to focus on your stupid, tedious task. In a huff you stand, heading straight for the reception office, papers in hand.

"Hi hi," Tally greets you as you open her door, gently closing it behind you.

"Dude, I'm dreading this meeting," you say immediately, sighing.

"Why? I'm sure nothing bad will come of it, Mr. Kangsoo loves you," she says, canceling an appointment on her screen and typing out a note.

"I know, I'm just already pissy today, not exactly the best mood to be bringing to the boss's office," you chuckle, setting your papers on the corner of her desk. "I kept neglecting digitizing this pile and now I can't stop obsessing over it. And Yunho came in early today, and hid my fucking mug. Again."

"Did you see this?" she asks, grabbing a sticky note from the corner of her computer and holding it out to you.

Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?

"God he's such an ass," you whisper, making Tally giggle. "Thank god for you girl, I don't know what I'd do without you here."

"You're 100% sure it's Yunho?" she asks, eyeing you.

"Who else would it be?" you reply, rolling your eyes, making her laugh again.

"Well, I guess now 'the pretty one' has been told," she giggles, rolling her eyes too as she crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.

"Like I said, he's an ass," you reply, not as quietly this time. A parent obviously waiting for their child snaps their head up, looking in your direction. They're maybe twenty feet away, and the window between the lobby and the reception desk is small, so you doubt they really heard you. But you balk in embarrassment anyway, silencing yourself.

"I should get back to my desk, I guess," you say, sighing as you pick up your stack of papers once again.

"Just ignore him," Tally says, smiling kindly.

"I'll try," you sigh, earning a disapproving look from Tally. "I will, I promise. You're right, I know, I should just ignore him," you answer, looking over to see the back of his head, his large hands crossed over each other and resting there on his jet black hair. Fuck him, you can't help but think. Everything had been going so well, and you'd never been someone who got into drama at work, ever. It was a point of pride for you for a long time, a huge reason why your boss gave you the position he did and trusted you to be a part of his team. Now it had all been ruined, by this fucking asshole, in his perfectly tailored suits.

The day dragged on, your mind spinning with anxiety. It wouldn't leave you until that dreaded meeting, you knew that, so you busied yourself with scanning and organizing the files, not bothering to try to get any writing done. There was no way you would, not in this state.

Finally your boss arrived, his heavy footsteps sending waves of dread through you, your stomach a fluttering mess. You hadn't been able to eat this morning, which was very unlike you; you could feel how weak you were from the lack of sustenance, the adrenaline making you shakier than it normally did. You stumbled on wobbly legs towards his office once he called for you, Yunho's presence dark and foreboding behind you, and you swore you heard him whisper 'behave yourself' as the two of you passed into the office. Your blood was boiling as you sat down, the two chairs facing the front of your boss's desk, your face a permanent scowl as you stared Yunho down, watching him settle himself down in the chair and spread his legs farther than he needed to, looking all too comfortable.

"Ok, to start, this is not to scare you, or fire you," your boss begins, already zeroing in on the dynamic between you; the cool and collected look of Yunho, and the angry, stricken look of you, your eyes deep with worry when you meet your boss's gaze. "You both know me, I don't really do this sort of thing. I don't need to control you all, to be a good leader." He sighs deeply, looking almost as pained as you do, like he's mulled this over for too long himself. "I just can't let this go on any longer. The conflict between you two is affecting everyone, and it's clearly affecting your own work, too. I can see it in the quality of your writing. You are both very smart, very good grant writers, and even so you've been doing a good job, but I know you both can do better. And this fighting, it really needs to stop." He sighs deeply again, shaking his head subtly, like his subconscious is trying to rid itself of the stress you two have caused him. It makes so many feelings bloom in your guts, but the overwhelming one is guilt, the feeling so entirely consuming that you have the urge to jump to the floor now and start babbling out apologies. But you stop yourself, stop the tears from coming, and taking a deep breath you regain some composure. You know your boss, and you know his cadence, so you know he has more to say.

"So, we're figuring this out today. I don't care what it takes, we're settling this. So tell me, why do you two fight so much?" His eyes sweep back and forth, eyeing each of you for any sign, any subtle movement that could give him some idea of what was going on. He had his own theories, but he really couldn't be sure, and due to his laid back nature with his staff, he hadn't been monitoring you two enough to really know. With a sigh he leans back in his chair, letting the silence hang in the room until one of you is willing to break it.

"Sir, I don't think she's liked me from the moment I started here," Yunho finally speaks up, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on his knees, the casual and confident gesture making your skin crawl. "I think she's been trying to make me miserable, so I'll leave-"

"That is not tru-"

"I think she feels some sort of ownership here, cause she's worked here so much longer than m-"

"That is absolutely not true!" you cry, your shot nerves leaving you unable to control your volume. "I would never try to run someone out of the office that way, that's completely unprofessional! He's the one who started all of this, he's the one who leaves nasty notes for me and hides my things and puts me down constantly in every admin meeting, trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone! If we're really gonna go there, I think he feels intimidated by my experience here, by the fact that I have a clearly established relationship with everyone, that you and all the therapists like me, and that even though he has more experience than me I'm still writing better grants!"

"Y/n, please keep yo-" your boss starts.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he left a note for me on Tally's computer this morning! How unprofessional is that! Now he's dragging her into our drama too, which I promise you I've never done! I-"

"Oh sure, you've never complained about me to anyone in the office," Yunho juts in, rolling his eyes. "It's not like everyone here sides with you on everything, always. If it weren't for Jongho I think you would have made everyone in this office hate me by now."

"Everyone loves you here, what do you mean?" you shoot back, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I never talk about you to any of them, not even Tally. Because I know it would be wrong. Maybe everyone sides with me on certain issues because I'm right, have you ever considered that?! And by the way, Tally thinks poorly of you because of her own observations, because she doesn't like the things you say to me. So that has everything to do with you and your shitty behavior-" you cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. Because as comfortable as you are with your boss, you never, ever curse in front of him. It's an unspoken rule in the office, and one you'd never struggled to follow before. Shame washes over you like a wave of boiling water, making your whole body begin to shake.

"I'm so sorry, sir," you bow your head to him, your eyes closed as you fight to keep yourself from bursting into tears.

"She's obviously quite emotionally unstable, sir," Yunho pipes up from beside you, and of all the things he's said recently it's definitely the most hurtful. Your head shoots up, a single tear racing down your cheek despite your attempts to keep it at bay, and you just stare at him, your face betraying everything you're feeling.

"There's no need for that sort of insult right now, Yunho," your boss scolds him. "I need you two to resolve this, not fight even more. So tell me about this note, what did it say? Why did you leave a note for y/n on Tally's desk?"

"I'm sorry sir, I understand," Yunho responds, his perfectly respectful tone and gestures looking so put on. "And honestly sir, I have no idea what y/n is talking about. I didn't leave any notes for anyone this morning."

"Oh, so you're going to lie right to our boss's face?" you ask him, your volume lower but your anger still evident. "Do I need to go grab Tally? Seriously?"

"Did this note have my name on it anywhere?" he chuckles, fixing you with a strong gaze. And if you aren't mistaken, there's some sort of twinkle in his eye, almost like he's enjoying this. Is it seeing you suffer, seeing the anger and sadness in your eyes that makes him feel joy? Or maybe it's just messing with you in front of your boss, forcing you to over-explain yourself to the point of looking hysterical. Whatever it is it makes you uneasy, your stomach feeling like it might fall out of your ass at any moment.

"Sir, it said, 'Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?" you say, exasperated. "He just said he thinks I've been trying to drive him out. It was obviously him who left that note." You turn your body to face your boss again, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Yunho anymore, your eyes pleading with Mr. Kangsoo to believe you.

"Sir, I did not write that. I would never say something so inappropriate about a coworker," Yunho adds, and though you don't see it, he's staring right at you. Your boss sighs heavily, your eyes fixed to the way he's staring at Yunho, the lines in his forehead deep with frustration. He looks like he's about to start speaking but then stops himself, another deep breath moving through his lungs, before running his hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair again.

"God, I wish you two would just sleep with each other already and get it out of your systems," he groans under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear, your whole body on high alert.

"What?!" you snap, your response involuntary. You had respected this man for years, admired the way he ran this office with calm confidence and respect for everyone, and you couldn't believe something so inappropriate had just come out of his mouth.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be gross. I just can't help but wonder if part of the issue between the two of you is, well, the obvious attraction," Mr. Kangsoo responds, sighing deeply. "I do sincerely apologize if I'm reading things incorrectly, or if that last comment made you uncomfortable. I don't in any way want to encourage my employees to sleep with each other, obviously, and that just slipped out of my mouth. It was inappropriate, I know. I just feel like I'm at my wit's end with you two, and I feel desperate to find some sort of solution. Because you both are incredible employees and I don't want to have to get rid of either of you."

"I'm so sorry sir, that this whole situation with us two has caused you stress, but I can assure you there's no attraction here. Only dislike," you reply, letting out a shaky breath.

"No attraction at all, sir," Yunho adds, making you feel disgusted at actually agreeing with him for once.

"Then why the constant arguing?" your boss asks.

"Like I said sir, he's been tormenting me-"

"She clearly has something against me sir, and I don't know what I could do to change tha-"

"You don't know what you could do?? Maybe stop being so mean to me!" you cry out again.

"Y/n, keep your voice down, this is my last warning," your boss cuts in, his face stern. "You know I see you as almost a daughter to me, you started working here when you were what, 17? And now you've finished your degree, made so many strides in the last few years. I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, but I'm struggling to feel proud right now, with how you've been acting recently in the office. It isn't like you. I know Yunho is at fault for this too, and I want you to know I've already talked to him about his comments made during our admin meetings. What he said a few weeks ago, insinuating that you didn't understand the "actual point" of your role in this company because you have less experience than him, was uncalled for. So was his comment earlier. But I see too that you are quick to jump on everything he says, to assume that everything he does has ill intent towards you, and I don't think that that's fair either. I know you're more mature than this," he finishes, his eyes soft as he looks at you.

"I don't think I am, sir," you squeak out, your voice breaking as more tears well in your eyes.

"Y/n, I won't have this. I need you to approach this like you've approached everything else in your life, with the goal of actually understanding it. Don't give up on this now," he says, his voice stern but encouraging in that special way only he can be.

"Sir, how am I supposed to feel watching you accept her hysterics?" Yunho asks, his face tense with annoyance.

"God, you're cruel," you whisper, curling into a ball on your chair, not caring that you're wearing a short skirt and you probably shouldn't be holding your legs this way.

"Yunho, you're getting on my last fucking nerve today," your boss snaps, and both of you have wide eyes of shock, Mr. Kangsoo not one to curse in the office, either. "This entire conversation went worse than I expected, and your uncalled for comments show me that maybe you're not as mature as I originally thought you were. You came in with great references, son, and you clearly are very smart, but you must realize you're up against someone who's been working for me for six years, and who has proven time and time again to be basically the perfect employee. This conflict is a blip on the radar for her, but for you it's been happening almost the entire time I've known you. I want to believe the best in you, but you must understand how this looks from my perspective."

You both just sit frozen, like two kids in time-out, your faces different versions of disappointment. Your eyes are slightly red from crying, and your knees are still pulled up to your chin, your arms squeezing so tightly around them that it hurts.

"I've had it with this conversation, I don't think this is going to work. Which I should have known, it's clear that conversation between the two of you always leads to conflict," your boss continues. "I'm sending you both home, right now, and I'm demanding that you figure out this thing between you, or I'm firing you both. You have a week. Do not return to this office until the two of you have sorted out your issues, and can promise me you will not fight ever again going forward," he states, his arms crossed over his chest.

You both gawk at him, your faces looking almost identical, as you try to take in what he's just told you.

"Sir, I-" Yunho starts, but even he's stumbling over his words with just how shocked he is. "I don't think this is fair, sir. You should- you can't force us to make up, that isn't going to happen. This- we- we'll both be fired by next week," he stumbles out, his collected demeanor finally shattering.

"With all due respect, son, this is my company. I can do what I want. And this is what I feel is best. So both of you go, now, I won't hear another word. Out," he demands, standing and nodding towards his door.

You rise without a word, your body shaking dramatically from the heaps of adrenaline still coursing through you. Silently you grab your coat and scarf, packing up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, walking to the kitchen to grab your lunch out of the fridge. You make your way towards the front door, stopping briefly at reception to look at Tally, her curly hair hanging down as she furiously types away at a document. Finally she looks up and sees your face, her own twisting into concern and confusion.

"What happened?" she whispers.

"I- I don't know," you respond, shaking your head. "Ask boss about it, I'm sure he'll tell you," you sigh, wiping another tear from your eyes. "I can't stay, I have to go," you squeak, giving her a quick hug, before turning and walking towards the front door again, nearly bumping into Yunho. You don't give him the courtesy of an apology, instead storming past him, walking angrily towards the elevator.

And of course you take the elevator down together, the silence awkward and tense and indescribable. You know he'll probably be walking down to the subway station with you, and it doesn't even surprise you when he gets on the same line as you, heading the same direction. But when he gets off at the same exact stop and you feel him walking up the stairs behind you, you can't just accept it any longer.

"Are you fucking following me?" you spit over your shoulder, your eyes dark with anger.

"No, y/n, I live up this way," he retorts, pointing ahead of you two in the exact direction of your neighborhood.

"God, don't tell me we're neighbors," you groan, trudging down the street, the remnants of last week's snow still stuck in the gutters.

"You live in Arbol Village?" he asks, almost sounding impressed.

"On Maple street," you sigh, with a nod.

"Me too," he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't funny, you fucking psychopath," you retort, angry that he's still here in your proximity, and angrier that there's only one path up into your neighborhood from this side, and the hill that leads up is making you out of breath in a way that's nothing but embarrassing.

"And you say I'm the mean one," he responds, smiling as he shakes his head.

"I really don't get how you can be so blasé about this," you huff out, your footsteps heavy as you nearly crest the hill and enter your neighborhood.

"Workplaces are shit, this is how it goes. If I have to find another job, I will. But don't think I won't go down without a fight. Mr. Kangsoo is by far the best boss I've ever worked for, so I'm going to do whatever I can to keep my position," he says, his breathing annoyingly stable even after walking the entirety of the hill. Slowly you two start into the neighborhood, but suddenly he's turning down a path towards the second house on Maple Street, the large dark one with an almost Victorian structure.

"Of course the fancy one is your house," you sigh, seeing the ornate curtains covering only part of the front window.

"Come in, we need to talk more," Yunho says, beckoning you with his hands, but you can't be bothered.

"Fuck no, are you crazy?" you respond, already stomping down the sidewalk past his house, not bothering to look back. The last thing you could bear is his presence right now, and for some reason you feel like you're not totally in control of yourself anyway, your legs moving so firmly they'd probably still be going even if you protested. Yunho just sighs, himself drained from the meeting you'd just left, and not having the energy to fight more. Later today, or tomorrow morning, he promised himself, he'd call you and start sorting this out for good. But for now he just watched you grow smaller and smaller, your hair blowing gently behind you in the winter breeze, your legs looking weak.

Once you were home, two and a half blocks from your asshole of a coworker, you collapsed on your bed, passing out in moments. In the late afternoon you woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, your roommate, Yunji, calling, "shit, sorry! The wind is crazy out there!"

"You're good!" you called back, but your voice made it apparent to her that it was one of those days where you needed to be left alone, so she didn't come into your room. You picked yourself up and stripped off your work clothes, finally freeing your thighs of the tight elastics that held up your socks, two red rings now visible on your skin. Automatically you brushed your teeth, grabbing your comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, and passed out in your bed again, not even eating dinner, not checking your phone. The sun had already begun to set, the sky outside rearing for another stormy night, and your body was lulled to sleep within minutes, your head buried deep into your pillows as you pulled your comforter over your head.

You woke in what felt like minutes, your room eerily quiet. The light looked bright outside, very bright; it was disorienting, both the quiet and the light, and you lifted yourself up, squinting around in search of your phone. You'd forgotten to plug it in last night, so it surely would be almost dead. You found it still in your work bag, hanging on for dear life with the battery at five percent. The time astonished you, 9am, and you gawked at yourself. No wonder you felt so disoriented; you'd been sleeping for nearly sixteen hours.

And as you finally sorted through your notifications, your shock over the time left your brain entirely. Because the shock of having a missed call from Yunho, having two missed calls from him, floored you, literally. You sank down to the ground, furiously clicking to see the times. One was last night, at about 7pm, and the other was this morning about an hour ago. This morning he'd left a voicemail too, presumably right after you hadn't answered. With shaky hands you clicked on it, holding the phone tight to your ear so you wouldn't miss a word.

"Y/n, I know you don't like talking to me, but we really should try to sort this out earlier rather than later. Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Well, fuck.

He sounded disappointed, and frustrated, and perturbed to even be leaving the message. But god was that voice convincing, even to you, the way he worded things so eloquently and politely, like he's genuinely a good and thoughtful person. It hit you hard while listening that maybe your anger wasn't justified, maybe you'd been unfair to him like your boss had said. The sneaking feeling had graced you many times over your months of conflict, but now it felt too strong to ignore. Did he really want to sort this out? It sounded like it. Why, why, why was this so damn confusing for you?

Your mind raced as your stomach growled, as you tried to get ahold of yourself. Still sprawled out on your carpet you felt exhausted, your body somehow still feeling pulled towards sleep despite the hoards of it you'd just been allotted. You peeled yourself up, standing carefully, moving towards your window to get a view of the backyard. Looking at the garden always calmed you, even in the winter when most of the flowers were gone. And as you opened your blinds you realized why things seemed so bright this morning, and why you were barely hearing a sound.

A thick blanket of snow covered everything, flakes still falling gently from the sky which was dotted with clouds. The sun shone through a gap in them, reflected bright off the entirely white ground. You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone had been forced to stay home today, so your missing work wasn't really a disruption to the office. Whoever was miffed about having to take your early shift wouldn't have to, after all. It was like the world was granting you a favor, as you often felt that she did, and you were so thankful. Because this, too, was a great excuse to avoid Yunho longer. There was no way you could leave the house with so much snow outside; it wasn't safe. You breathed in a sigh of relief, shaking it out as you finally connected your phone to charge, slipping on some thick socks and gliding your way out to the kitchen.

After breakfast you popped back into your room, shooting off a quick text.

Y/n: I just saw the snow, I don't think I can come over. Let's see tomorrow.

Almost immediately a call comes through from him, but you let it ring out. There was no way you were going to waste this beautiful snow day talking to him, and you had a whole week to resolve this anyway. It gnawed at you, in the back of your mind somewhere, but presently you just couldn't find it in yourself to voluntarily speak to him.

Yunho: We can still talk on the phone. And we really should. Y/n: We should take a break from talking and cool off. For today.

That was how you were justifying it to yourself. You needed a break, deserved a break from him. You wouldn't be able to really resolve anything if you were still pissed, and with the shock of the morning's weather and your body's obvious need for even more rest, you just couldn't take it today. Plus, everyone else was getting a day off, why couldn't you?

Yunho: I disagree

You flip your phone over, setting it on your bedside table, and you walk away. You'd had it with him arguing with you over text too, and the idea of curling up on the couch with Yunji, sipping hot cocoa and watching your favorite movies, sounded too enticing. You were not going to think about him anymore today. It was decided.

And surprisingly you were mostly able to keep your promise to yourself, the day passing in all its wintery glory, your favorite tradition with your roommate leaving you just as content as it always did. With a gentle sigh you both finally stood up, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes you'd made all day, finally putting away the snacks you'd covered the coffee table with. As you both walked past the window in the hall you stopped short, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.

"Holy shit," Yunji said, grabbing onto your arm. You both were used to the snow here, having grown up in the next town over. But this snow, that now seemed to be three feet deep, was something you hadn't seen since the one glorious winter more than a decade ago. You were eight that year, and the day after Christmas it snowed furiously, continuing all the way until New Year's Day when the ground was so covered that everywhere you looked outside all you saw was white.

You hadn't realized it was snowing all day, that the sky had turned dark in the early afternoon with all of the cloud cover. You were both too engrossed in your fun to notice.

"Well, I guess we're not going back to work for another few days," she laughed, sighing at how lovely it looked.

"Thank god," you replied, sighing in relief.

"Has Yunho been giving you trouble again?" she asked, and you turned to her with a downturned smile.

"When is he not," you sighed, laughing.

"Hey, how did your meeting go, yesterday?" she asked.

"Fucking terrible," you reply, a frustrated hand running through your hair.

"What happened?"

"Boss said that if the two of us can't resolve our differences, he's letting us both go," you answer, sighing harshly.

"Oh my god, that's crazy! How could he do that to you??" she replied, eyes wide.

"Girl, I know. I don't even know how it got to this point."

She moved to hug you, knowing just how much this situation had weighed on you, and just how much your job meant. She'd seen it in your eyes, even if you hadn't always told her exactly what was going on. She knew how sensitive you were, and she couldn't believe your boss would say such a thing. Especially given the years of dedication you'd given to that office, that you so genuinely cared about.

"What are you gonna do?" she asks, pulling back.

"Well I guess, try to resolve it. I don't know how, though, every time we talk he just pisses me off and we fight. He's not reasonable about anything. He's always joking, nothing is ever totally serious. I saw him stutter for the first time yesterday, when Mr. Kangsoo gave us that ultimatum, but earlier in the meeting he was way too casual about everything. He was calling me hysterical and unstable, and, just, how the fuck does my boss think I'm going to solve this? That man is fucking impossible," you say, shaking your head.

"He sounds like a sociopath," she replies. "If I ever see him I will wring his neck, I swear to god."

"Well, you might. He lives in this neighborhood." Yunji's eyes go wide at your comment, her mouth hanging open. "Yeah, I know. He lives on our street, too, you know the fancy looking house that's second in from the road? Like if you're walking from the station this direction, the second house on the right? Yeah, that's his. I found out yesterday when I was walking home."

"How the fuck does a single guy in his twenties afford that?" she asks, baffled.

"He clearly has family money, he must. I'm sure he's made decent money for the past few years, but not enough to afford that. And all of his stuff, his suits and his briefcase and everything, looks expensive. And it's not like, shit that just looks expensive or name brand stuff. It's subtler than that, it just seems like everything he owns is so high quality."

"Fucking rich boys. I guess it isn't surprising, given how he's behaved. Like he's always gotten his way and never been told no."

"It really seems like it. Everyone always loves him, it's so annoying," you roll your eyes, thinking of every other staff member's reaction to meeting their shiny new coworker, and his easy demeanor, always saying what people want to hear. Except to you, it seemed.

"Well you can't really meet up and talk right now," Yunji says.

"No, but he said we should talk on the phone. I missed two calls from him, and he left me a message. But I can't bear to speak with him on the phone. I don't ever talk to my coworkers outside of work, no matter how close we are," you reply, shaking your head. "It just feels weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm ignoring him for the rest of today."

"Understandable," she responds, squeezing your arm for a moment. "I should try to get some work done on my thesis, I guess, but you rest this evening. You deserve it."

As you both retire to your rooms, you sigh into your pillow. Despite the lazy day, despite the sixteen hours of sleep last night, you still feel tired. It must be mental, it's the only explanation at this point. And you know that means you should probably avoid your phone. But you reflexively check it; the anticipation brewing in your head isn't letting up.

You find two more missed calls from Yunho, and another text.

Yunho: How are we going to solve this if you keep ignoring me?

You suppose it makes you feel a little bad, a little guilty. Still, you can't be bothered to respond. You don't know why; you can't explain it. That feeling like you're not totally in control of your actions, like someone else is calling the shots, is back, and it really doesn't feel like something you can fight, or should fight. There's an eeriness about it, but it's so far in the back of your mind that you don't give it a second thought. After turning over your phone you climb into your covers, the light barely there outside as the evening approaches, the sky still covered in dark clouds and the snow still falling.

And just like that, two days pass. The snow has stayed heavy, making it unsafe to leave, the whole city quiet as few feel brave enough to venture outside. A desperate run to the grocery store calls a few, but thankfully you and Yunji have plenty of food in the pantry to last you a few days. She's taken the opportunity to really focus on her work, and you thought maybe you should, too. You never worked on grants at home, but you could bet Yunho was also taking advantage of the quiet time. You didn't really have anything better to do, yet you couldn't bring yourself to work at all, not when your head and gut were rolling with anxiety and fear and a crushing hatred of yourself. That first day avoiding Yunho had felt, well, not good, but justified. But the past two days, more missed calls and texts unanswered, you felt straight up guilty, and stupid. Not really for ignoring Yunho, as much as letting down your boss, which you knew you would. This couldn't be resolved; no matter what the two of you did you'd never get along, and it was clear that there was something in Yunho that made him unable to leave you alone. You hadn't particularly liked the last guy in his position, either, but the two of you had basically ignored each other, easily. But since his entrance to your office, Yunho seemed unable to not bother you, not leave notes, not piss you off every chance he got. And now you couldn't help but ignore him, even though you knew that doing so was fucking you both over, making it certain that you'd never return to that beloved office and your dream job.

You felt stuck. The literal fact of not being able to leave your apartment was eating you alive, making you feel scared and paranoid and vulnerable in ways you knew were illogical. Every little sound started to make you jump; you were losing it, slowly but surely coming apart at the seams. You swore you started hearing your mom's cat meowing for you, and once in the kitchen it sounded so real you spent minutes furiously searching the hall and your bedroom for her. You collapsed on the floor, waves of anxiety rolling over you as you held yourself in the fetal position, not even crying, just hyperventilating.

Yunho: You're being really immature and unfair by not responding to me. Not even giving this a chance of maybe working itself out

You hadn't responded to him in days, but something in you finally broke. It was in the way his words reflected how you felt about yourself, and the severe guilt that it brought you alighted in flames and suddenly felt like nothing but red, hot anger.

Y/n: Fuck you Yunho: Oh, so you are alive

Breathing heavy you stared at the screen, a sudden realization washed over you. You knew it was over; you'd maintained at least some level of professionalism up to this point, albeit not much, with him. Even when you fought in the office you didn't say anything personal or unnecessarily nasty. You only cursed at him under your breath, never loud enough that anyone could hear. But now you had said something nasty, in writing no less. Even if you both somehow made it back to work on Monday, he'd no doubt show your boss what you had said. And even with your long standing relationship with Mr. Kangsoo, you doubted he'd be willing to keep you on after seeing that.

So that was it. It was over. Logically you knew that you could find a new job, that this wasn't the end of your life. The new year was right around the corner, which was always a good time to find new placements. But you had studied communications and psychology specifically for this job, had dedicated years to learning everything you could about funding and mental health care and the ways your boss ran the office. Though it'd never been said directly, you had a feeling that one day you'd become his second-in-command, and maybe even take over running the place once he was ready to take a step back and retire. You loved this part of the city, loved living with your best friend here, and the commute was easy. You'd planned everything so well, yet it still was about to crumble in your hands. And with every passing minute, it felt like you were waiting for your life to implode, which made not being able to leave all the worse.

The next morning you woke to a call from your mom.

"Good morning," she answered, after your muffled and confused, hello? "Happy New Year sweetie."

"Hi mom, Happy New Year," you responded, rolling over to tuck yourself into the covers again. It had gotten bone-chillingly cold with the perpetual precipitation, and pulling the covers off in the morning felt torturous.

"Since you can't come down to see me today I thought I'd call. Are you two doing okay? Do you have enough food?"

"Yeah, we're doing fine," you say through a yawn. "We've got plenty of food, as long as this lets up in a few days."

"God, it better. I'm glad I got to see you on Christmas Eve."

"Me too."

"Are you doing okay? You sound off," she asks you, making your heart sink. She has no idea what's been going on; you've done an expert job of keeping it a secret from her, as you often do with your struggles, because you know she can't really handle it. You know she has too much to deal with on her own, and you never really feel like she gives you good advice, anyway. But with how you've been feeling mentally, hearing someone ask that has you panicking internally.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just woke up is all," you lie, yawning again to punctuate your point. "I'm not really enjoying being stuck inside, I guess."

"That's not like you," your mom laughs, and you know she's shaking her head side to side the way she always does. "You used to always love when you were stuck inside, or stranded somewhere. Do you remember when you got lost at that theme park in Ocean City? When we found you at the ticket booth you were happy as can be. We thought we'd find you crying. The teenage boy who was watching you said you were quiet as can be, just sat in that little nook in total silence. You were such a funny kid." There's a mystical air to her tone telling the story, because she loves to reminisce in that way, and unfortunately you really, really don't. Because that was the time of your life when your dad was still around, and despite the years of therapy you still can't move past it all.

"Yeah, I remember," you placate her, sighing. You wish you could travel to see her today, just to calm her nerves and make her not worry, because her worrying is the absolute last thing you want. As you stare out the window you see the sky is a bit clearer, and there don't appear to be many flakes still falling. But the snow is still thick and there's surely ice everywhere. You're not even sure if the three separate subway lines you have to take to reach her house are still running.

"Well, sweetie, the weather report said the snow's finally supposed to let up today, so maybe you can get some fresh air soon."

"That sounds good," you mutter, rolling over in bed. "I should go make some breakfast, I'm feeling really hungry. Thanks for calling, love you," you finish the call.

"Okay, love you too sweetie. Talk to you soon," she replies, before you hang up the call.

New Year's Day. You'd forgotten yesterday what day it was, and had been sort of avoiding your phone because of Yunho's texts and calls. You hadn't stayed up till midnight, hadn't welcomed the New Year in any way. You were surprised Yunji hadn't said anything, but then again neither of you really were the types to party or celebrate holidays much. You both had bad memories of them from growing up, or good memories that had turned bad once you'd matured and looked back without your naiveté. And your face and posture were probably screaming 'leave me alone,' Yunji always able to tell if you were upset. You were thankful for that, thankful that she knew how to leave you alone when you needed the space. Really, what did it matter what day it was? New Year's was like any other day of the year, it just had the honor of being first in the lineup. So why was your head spinning so much? Why couldn't you stop thinking about what your resolutions should be?

The morning was strange, even with a delicious bagel and a warm cup of Jasmine tea. It felt strange seeing the sky after it had been covered for days; it even felt strange looking out your living room window to the front yard, the snow on the street gray and muddy and pounded down by the tracks of the few brave souls who'd trekked out or driven in this weather. You saw one neighbor diligently shoveling snow off her driveway, bundled up head to toe in a giant puffy jacket and boots that looked too big for her. Her head snaps up, and you walk towards the window to see what she's seeing; a snow plow was making its way down your street, the drivers finally able to start their work today now that the worst of the storm was behind you. Even the sidewalks looked not so bad, as the clear day had allowed the sun to begin melting the thick snow, the air hot enough that it might not be too icy out there. Something in you called at you to go outside, but the second you thought about it a wave of dread hit you, and you knew you'd be too scared. It would be another day stuck in here, another day avoiding Yunho's texts and feeling so guilty, and you weren't sure if you could take it.

It had gotten to that point now. It had been so long since you felt like this, like you'd rather die than live another moment. Now, just like the first time, you felt so ridiculous and shameful for feeling that way, looking around to see the physical evidence of your privileged life. Your safe and cozy apartment, the food filling the fridge, the brand new washing machine you'd both bought yourselves as a Christmas gift. How could this be so awful? You had all sorts of entertainment, anything you could need to keep you busy while you waited for these snow days to end. You could be updating your resume, starting the search for a new job. You could be calling Yunho back, and trying to find a way through your conflict. You could be doing yoga, meditating, making soup from scratch, reading, writing, learning a new language...

It all sounded horrible. Your mind was collapsing on you, but this time you're not a kid, this time you don't have a great excuse. You'd let some petty drama taint your every waking moment, and you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. You were too scared to do the right thing, you could see that now, that back when this conflict had started you'd assumed your boss and everyone else would side with you, just because they already knew you. You'd let Yunho get under your skin, to the point that every word he uttered made you angry, letting him in so deep that there was no way out. Not now. You knew this wouldn't be resolved, because you couldn't do it; you could never admit these things to him that you'd just admitted to yourself. You could never apologize, never acknowledge that you played a part. You'd sat yourself staunchly in a position, the innocent one who'd been wronged time and time again by the aggressor, and stepping down from that pedestal would hurt you more than you thought you could bear.

It was the shame of fucking up. Of not being perfect. A conversation from therapy, from almost ten years ago, ricocheted to the front of your mind. 'You're quite a perfectionist, y/n. Do you realize that? It makes you avoid doing certain things, even if you know they're the right thing to do.' You can still see your old therapist's face, her glasses near the tip of her nose as she eyed you. How could you still be right where your fourteen year old self was? You looked like her too, your skin burning with embarrassment at how you hadn't realized that yourself. It felt humiliating to have to be told, because that in and of itself proved you were imperfect. That you weren't totally and completely self aware. The biggest shame you carried was knowing that despite how hard you tried, you never were very good at knowing yourself.

You laid face down on your bedroom floor. You didn't have the energy or motivation for anything else. You knew clinically speaking, this looked like the start of a depressive episode. But you hadn't had one in years now and were out of practice. What were you supposed to do now? All that felt okay was sinking more into your head, letting the darkness envelop your mind and take you on a ride through your worst memories, your heart racing despite your complete lack of physical exertion.

By early afternoon you'd had enough of that horrifying roller coaster. When you sat up your neck ached, your body screaming at you to never collapse in that position again. You felt jittery, restless, but nothing at home sounded appealing still, not in the slightest. Your eyes catch on your winter boots in the corner of your room, too big to fit on the shoe rack by the front door. And suddenly your mind is made up in less than a second. It was time to go for a walk, to get out of the house. Maybe the cold air would clear your mind.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some snacks at Smith's, do you need anything?" you call through Yunji's bedroom door.

"You're going out in this weather?" she asks, opening it.

"The snow let up a lot today, and I'm running low. And I'm feeling too cooped up. It's only five blocks, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Ok, well, I don't think I need anything. I stocked up on Pocky last time we were there. Are we almost out of toilet paper or paper towels?" she asks.

"No, I just checked," you respond.

"Okay. Be careful," she says, smiling.

"I will, I promise," you say before walking toward the front closet, grabbing your big winter coat and zipping it up.

The outside air is a shock as it greets your face, making your cheeks turn pink almost instantly. The world is still bright, the sun shining the warmest it will all day, but you can see darker clouds off in the distance. You hope they aren't moving too fast; there is only a slight breeze in the air, and mostly it's just so quiet, even with a second snow plow heading down your street. It does feel relieving, a least a little, to finally be outside, and a part of you feels proud for actually going out, given how scared you were this morning. You feel like you're maybe proving to yourself that you aren't such a wuss, that you aren't so prone to avoiding things that one day it'll ruin your life. You walk briskly, your nerves buzzing as your heart rate rises to keep you warm.

It feels nice to be buying your favorite snacks, and you're able to get lost in the normalcy of it for a few minutes. The store is almost empty, so you try making light conversation with the one cashier working, his long hair covered in a beanie. Strolling back outside you're met with the chilly air again, a gust of wind nearly knocking you off your feet as you make your way through the small, empty parking lot. You could have sworn you were only in there for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but the sky looks almost completely different now, those dark clouds having descended on your area. You start your way back up the hill, bracing yourself against the growing winds, when the sky lets out a low rumble that shakes you to your bones. Suddenly it's raining, the air warm enough to turn the snow into sleet, and it's soaking your face and your hat and your gloves faster than you can believe. The paper bag holding your snacks is disintegrating in your hand, and you shove it under your coat to try to protect it, the cold bag on your stomach making you shiver.

"Fuck, this was a bad idea," you mutter to yourself, shakily making your way finally into your neighborhood, crossing the street that separates the houses from the row of commercial buildings. Your whole body is shaking, your head turned to the ground as you try to avoid getting sleet in your eyes and try to avoid falling. You're moving much slower than you were on your way to the store, carefully planting your feet one in front of the other as you hold your snacks against your stomach. Your brain feels fuzzy, the wind whipping past your ears, and all you can manage to think is, 'just make it home, just make it home.' It's only about three more blocks, you should be able to make it just fine, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, if you just keep going, keep goin-

Suddenly someone has grabbed you, your body thrown up like a rag doll, your upper half thrown over their shoulder. You let out a guttural scream, the sound hoarse and weak and getting lost in the storm. You're furiously flailing your legs, wiping the water from your eyes to try to get a look at anything, your lungs heaving as you scream again, this time, "Let me go!!"

The grip on your legs only tightens after your outburst, and then you're hearing a door whooshing open, warmer air greeting you as you enter some house, your eyes able to make out hardwood floors and the large boots of whoever's holding you hostage. You're breathing ragged, trying to get ahold of yourself and figure out where the hell you are, and when you catch a glimpse into the front closet of this house you see those navy blue shoes, with that very unique toe box...

Part 2

Thank you sm for reading! <3

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez yunho #yunho x reader

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