#maybe she thought she could fix me but i was UNFIXABLE

[softandwildx]

Sometimes I think about the 4 years and countless dollars I spent in art classes + college level studio art senior year and laugh because I can't fucking draw

[carlosainzgf]

it’s him

hae jo x fem!reader (smut)

warnings: none! just really soft smut. but kinda sad begging.

you adjusted your scarf as you stood outside the apartment building, staring at the address in your hand. after weeks of recovery and hesitation, you had finally decided to visit hae jo. it wasn’t easy— you weren’t sure what you wanted to say, or even if he wanted to see you. but the thought of leaving things unresolved weighed on you too heavily to ignore.

you took a deep breath and walked up the stairs, your heart beating faster with each step. when you finally reached the apartment door, you raised your hand to knock, hesitating for a moment before.

the door opened, but instead of hae jo, a middle-aged woman stood in the doorway. she had a fake but somewhat a warm smile, her hair neat, and a fancy outfit. you blinked, momentarily confused.

“um…i think I have the wrong place,” you said, glancing down at the slip of paper in your hand. “im looking for hae jo.”

before the woman could respond, footsteps approached from inside. hae jo appeared behind her, his hair damp and messy, a towel slung over his shoulder, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. “who is i-“ before he could finish his eyes widened.

he said you name, though it was more like a question, his voice thick with surprise. your gaze flickered from hae jo to the woman, then back to him. your confusion deepened, her brows furrowing. “did- did i interrupt something?”

the woman let out a hearty laugh, stepping outside to let hae jo move forward, leaving you two alone and for him to do the explanation.

“why didn’t you call?”

“i wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me… but i want to talk.” hae jo ran a hand through his damp hair, a gesture of unease. his gaze flickered to the woman briefly before returning to you. he seemed conflicted, torn between his desire to talk to her or just saving you both from another possible fight.

he moved aside to let you in. he could never resist you. you took a step inside, your eyes darting around the small apartment. it was surprisingly neat given hae jo’s usual tendency towards clutter. he shut the door after her, gesturing towards a comfortable-looking couch. you took a seat, your gaze on his bare chest. the silence between you was heavy, filled with both tension and anticipation.

unsure how to begin you stutter over your words at first before finally speaking.

“i know we both said mean things to each other…but i can’t stop thinking about you. i know that i said you make me feel like shit but i feel even shittier without you. i said that you’re never with me but i feel even lonelier without you.” taking a breath you continued. “it’s hard being with you but it’s harder being without you. i can’t fix you, can’t make you better, can’t break through your world, you’re unfixable…i know that now. maybe the way im loving you is killing me but i can’t not be with you.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you talked “i just- i just wish that you would hold me and say that you were mine. fuck it, i love you. i really do. i just wish you weren’t so fucked up-” he held your face to get your attention and calm you down.

he leaned in and kissed your tears away. in moments like this he made you forget about how fucked up he actually his. and maybe that’s what you liked about him. his fucked up self. his kisses moved from your eyes, cheeks and finally to your lips. he captured you in a suffocating kiss. he kissed you hardly, as if he was afraid you’d slip away. your crying had calmed down as he pulled away, leaving you with quiet sobs.

he pressed his forehead against yours, “i never meant to hurt you, to push you away. i just never deserved to be with you. you’re too good for your own good and i don’t deserve that so i thought that by leaving you, you’d be better off.”

“i’d rather be with you and hurt than without you. i will love you till the end of time. i’ll be by your side, no matter what.” he just started at you as you talked, still holding your face. he was never good with words, you knew that, but he had his ways of showing his love. it may not be the usual way, not the typical way everyone else shows their love but it’s him.

he pulled you into a kiss, the kind that leaves you breathless. it’s him. he strokes your hair and holds you close as he kisses you. it’s one of his many ways of loving you. he undresses you slowly, savoring the view, taking your beauty in as if you were the most precious thing to exist. it’s how he always does it no matter how many times he sees you naked. he lays you down on to the couch to leave open-mouthed kisses on your soft skin, with love. it’s hae jo.

the kisses he left on your skin turning into small traces of rednesses. his gentle hold of you turning into desperate grasps that leaves his hands printed into your skin. his boxers long gone and his bare skin against yours burning you.

he ruts his hips against your hip, trying to get some friction as his thumb toyed with your clit. chest to chest, heart to heart, two bodies intertwined, holding each other, scared to let go.

“hae jo… i need you.” his scrunched up brows flinched at your words. he quickly gathered himself. he rubbed his length against your wetness, lubricating himself, he tapped your clit with the tip of his twitching dick before pushing in. he did it slowly, he was eager to feel you but wanted to savor how you felt around him. so warm, so wet, so inviting and so ready for him.

“i’m sorry for how it ended.” he said, barely above a whisper. “i’m sorry that it ended at all.” you said, holding back a moan. he fixed away the hairs that stuck to your forehead and kissed you as he started thrusting. slowly but certainly. gently but firmly. he was determined to show his love for you.

“i shouldn’t have ever let you go away. i need you by my side.” he whispered against your lips, “i will never let you go again.” you held him close as he moved, hugging him as he fucked you. interlinked as he thrusted into you slowly and deeply.

he took your nipple in his mouth while he rolled the other between his fingers making you cry out. “hae jo- ngh- i’m gonna-“ you managed to let out between whimpers. “let go, baby…i got you.”

he held you as you came down from your high. the way you squeezed him in made him lose control. he came deep inside you with soft grunts that were muffled into your neck. he didn’t pull out when he came, he just laid on top of you, his face in your neck, smelling your perfume. your hands holding his broad shoulders as you calmed down.

“being back in your arms is everything I wished for since we broke up." you confessed. “i will never let you go again.” hae jo said. and hae jo was a man of his words.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

masterlist

'cause when emma falls in love, she's in it for keeps she won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave

Y/N knew she shouldn’t care if Bucky wanted to introduce Sadie to her mother or not - after all, she had better and more important things to do such as trying to fix her apparently “unfixable” thesis. Nevertheless, she was worried. Sadie wasn’t her daughter but she cared for her and she couldn’t imagine how confusing things may be in her head, how she could cope with the question of why her mother was only appearing now. Yet again, as Bucky had made it abundantly clear, it wasn’t her place to give an opinion. So, she put it in the back of her head and focused on fixing the unfixable. 

Maybe she hadn’t been clear enough. After all, she tended to go round and round to try to make a point and was know to get lost in narration. Or maybe she hadn’t used enough thousand dollar words, after all, she was at Columbia, a prestigious university, they required those thousand dollar words. Maybe she hadn’t put in the best references or ... or maybe her whole theory was just bullshit and she was about to become a street psychologist. So long dreams of being part of the academic board of a good university. 

She sighed, burying her hands in her hair as she continued to re-read her thesis from the fake brightness of her laptop which was close to dying from the amount of times she had destroyed the battery with the continuous plugging and unplugging. Just as she was about to start crying due to pure desperation - not a first as a PhD student - her phone started buzzing against her pocket. Everyone in the library turned to stare at her, giving her gazes and side eyes which she couldn’t stand and followed by a string of mumbled apologies and hitting her hip against the table on the way out, she found herself a secluded place in the garden outside the library to pick up the phone.

      - Stan? - she thought to herself as she answered the phone, holding her laptop and things on the other hand. - Hello? 

      - Miss? - his voice came from the other end of the call. - I am so sorry to be bothering you. 

      - That’s alright. Is everything ok? Is James okay?

      - I think so, I’m not sure. Sadie is asking for you and I know it’s your day off but she’s insistent. 

      - Okay. - she sighed. There was no point putting another hour towards the 5 she’d already spent. Actually, if she spent another hour trying to decipher what was wrong with it, she may actually go insane. - Send me an address and I’ll be there. 

Had Sadie gotten into trouble at school? Had Bucky gotten into trouble himself? She tended to lean towards the latter as Stan sent him an address to a law firm. Maybe they were meeting Anna there and Sadie was making a fit. She didn’t seem too keen on meeting her mother this morning and while Y/N believed she shouldn’t be forced to do so, if Sadie needed her then she was gonna be there. She got a taxi to the address, making a mental memo to charge Bucky for it as there was no way in hell she was going to pay for a taxi at midday in New York. She soon was dropped in front of a law firm, staring at the big glass doors for a while before Stan called for her attention from the car. 

     - What happened? - she asked as she got inside the car, Sadie immediately making a grabbing motion towards her. 

     - Daddy is sad. - she said as Y/N undid her seat belt to put her on her lap.

     - She didn’t show. - Stan mumbled from the driver’s seat and Y/N didn’t know what to feel.

Part of her had to admit she thought it may happen, after all no one makes a complicated decision that fast and actually sticks with it. Not one as hard as meeting one’s estranged daughter at least. She had told Bucky just that and he chose not to listen and while her ego would like to say she’d told him so, truth was her heart was clenching at the mere idea of it. Sure she knew she was probably in the right but she wished she wasn’t. She wished Sadie’s mum had come despite Sadie’s objections. She couldn’t even fantom what Sadie was thinking or feeling at the moment. She didn’t think she would tell her either. She was too young to be able to articulate what it felt like and, maybe, too young the understand the situation in its entirety. She hoped the latter was true but she knew how observant children were. 

    - You’re okay, baby? - she caressed her face, moving her ginger hair away from her face. She didn’t looked to bothered, holding her Bingo toy against her chest. - Hm? Just squeeze my hand if you’re ok, yeah?

Sadie looked at her for a few seconds before squeezing her hand and leaning her head against her chest. She sighed, relief slightly taking over her worry which was quickly replaced by anger as she watched Bucky make his way to the door. She got out of the car angrily, holding Sadie against her chest like a wounded mother bear ready to claw anyone. How dare he? How dare he screw up like this and then just leave Sadie in the car with the driver? Was he insane?

Her blood boiled and she was ready to shout something that was sure to get her fired, but something stopped her. His eyes were rimmed red and he looked on the verge of crying, strongly holding it to continue showing his unbothered nature. The clothes which were always perfectly ironed and tucked were untucked and the tie which always sat well against his neck, tied to perfection, was loose and hanging from the side. For a split second, she wanted to comfort him, she wanted to cup his face, dry his tears and hold him as close as she was holding his daughter. For a split second, she wanted to tell him she understood where he was coming from, that the pain he was feeling wasn’t a punishment for his actions. But that was only a split second, he’d made it perfectly clear where they stood - she was his employee and he was the boss. 

    - You’re here.

    - She needed me.

She needed her and Bucky needed her, he needed her badly. However, she merely got back into the car, buckling Sadie’s seat belt and turning her face away from his. Silence filled the car and Bucky swore that in all his years of running a company, of his years in the army, he’d never heard a silence quite this loud.

(...)

It was clear she wasn’t speaking to him. The drive back home was unbearable and even as they got back home, she continued as if he wasn’t there, instead devoting all her time to looking after Sadie from bathing her and feeding her. Bucky merely stood back, an observer in his own house. He wanted to be angry, he so much wanted to go and tell her he didn’t deserve this treatment, that she no place being angry. Except she did, and Bucky knew this. He knew she was perhaps waiting an apology but he’d been in his right as well. Sadie was his daughter, decisions regarding her first came to him. She didn’t make those for him. He made them and he didn’t care if she liked it or not.

At least he thought so. Truth was, he found himself outside his daughter’s bedroom, waiting for Y/N to be finished reading all her stories. She would have to eventually talk to him but if she wanted to be a brat, he could deal with it. At least he had ideas of how to deal with it, ideas which he probably couldn’t put to fruition - unprofessional ideas. 

     - Is she down yet? - he asked as she stepped out of the bedroom. 

Y/N looked at him up and down as if he were nothing but a maggot, before shrugging and walking off to her bedroom. It made both his heart break and his blood boil. What did she even have to be mad about? She should be happy about being right. Yet, right now he had to look after Sadie. Opening her bedroom door, he found his two year old tucked into her sheets, Bluey playing lowly from the TV in her bedroom which was often turned off. He took a seat on the side of the mattress, leaning his arm over the bed rest. 

    - Are you okay, Sadie? - the two year old didn’t reply, too invested on the hijinks of Bluey. - I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, Sisi. I didn’t want it to go like that. 

How does someone even explain to a two year old what had just happened? He could barely explain it to himself more less to Sadie who only saw things still in black and white. Y/N had said so herself, she understands who shows up and who doesn’t, not the nuances behind it. His lips pursed in a tense line as he moved a bit closer to his daughter.

    - I love you, Sadie. - he kissed the top of her head. - So so much. 

She cuddled next to her dad, her shining eyes which mirrored his, a permanent reminder she was part of him, looking at the low almost soothing sound coming from the TV. Bucky was sure he couldn’t do anything purer than her, anything better than her. She was his little miracle. 

(...)

Y/N was still angry at him. She acted as if he didn’t exist, continuing on with her life as if he was merely a spectre she didn’t care much for. He had tried to make things better, sending her flowers and chocolates only to find them all delivered right back to him. She didn’t even complain when he purposely only sent her pay check a day late, instead finding an angry e-mail from her written in the most professional writing he’d ever witnessed. She wasn’t budging, stubborn as ever. 

     - Good evening, Y/N. - he said as he saw her the first time today, busy cleaning up the dishes from her and Sadie’s dinner. - Your hair looks different, you did something to it?

She rolled her eyes, turning the tap and putting on the bright pink gloves he always poked fun of. He had to give it to her, she would’ve been great in the army with that poker face. 

     - I have a charity dinner tomorrow and my mum’s watching over Sadie. I was thinking maybe you’d like to go as my plus one. A lot of Columbia alumni and staff tend to go, it’d be a great opportunity for you. 

     - No, thank you. 

     - You’d be doing me a favour if you went. 

     - Then definitely no. Thank you, Sergeant Barnes. 

     - What if I pay you?

     - I am your daughter’s au pair, not your escort neither do I wish to become one. So once again, no thank you. 

     - Just let me do this for you. - he sighed, going after her as she continued with her nightly tasks.  - Please. You were really great with Sadie when Anna didn’t show up and those people at that charity dinner can get you a job or something published in a good journal. I’m trying to repay you. 

     - I don’t need charity to know my value, Sergeant Barnes, neither do I need you to pay me back for doing a good job with your daughter as that is part of my job description. 

     - Just how many jobs do you think are in academia? In New York or a good college that can actually pay you a liveable wage? Or enough of a wage to even rent here?

     - I’ll figure out a way. 

     - I’m trying to offer you a way to prove your value to someone face to face and not by a CV which will lay dormant on someone’s desk. You don’t even have to speak to me the whole night.

     - Yes because what picture perfect that would be. Your plus one not talking to you, then they’d definitely think you picked the lowest price escort. 

     - I don’t need escorts. I can ask anyone in my office and they’d say yes. Being in my favour pays off either you like it or not and I know people at Columbia, Harvard, Yale and all those Ivys because I donate there. 

     - So does every rich person to get their kid in there someday.

     - Point is, everyone will listen to you, to your opinions, if you go. It’s not an even playing field and you, cynical as you are, should know. 

     - I am not cynical, I am a realist. I’m sorry if I don’t believe that great things happen to good people. 

     - And what are you gonna do tonight, then? You gonna re-read your thesis for the 500th time? You don’t particularly have an active social life.

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. She really didn’t want to be next to Bucky, neither did she want to forgive him. She needed time to work through her anger and come face to face with the fact that someone who she thought was her friend threatened her job so easily. She knew Bucky was a hard pill to swallow, but she’d never had it directly thrown at her. Yet again, he did present a good bargain and she needed to figure out something if she failed her viva. 

     - What time is it?

     - Starts at 9 but we leave at 8. 

     - Dress code?

     - Black tie. 

     - What colour bow tie are you wearing?

     - Why does it matter?

     - It’s customary for someone’s plus one outfit to match but you’d know that if you actually took someone to these things.

     - It’s black. Do you need to buy a dress?

     - I have a dress. 

     - It was great negotiating with you, Y/N. - he winked, leaving victorious.

     - Fucker. - she mumbled to herself and returned to doing the dishes.  

(...)

Y/N knew this wasn’t Bucky being charitable. Not that he wasn’t charitable, he was, but he was also a master manipulator and usually did things with a purpose. He’d been educated in that manner, he knew how to behave and how to get people to like him, even though he didn’t particularly care if they did or not. For Bucky, it was all about the ability to do so. She knew this whole dinner invite was a ploy to try and soften her up but if he thought he would slip by without even a sorry, he was dead wrong. 

Yet again, Y/N knew when to grab an opportunity so she did was she did best, look her best with the little she had. She had a black dress she’d worn for her graduation and with a bit of help from youtube she’d managed to slick her hair back in a bun, gold hoop earrings being the only thing that adorned her jewellery wise and Bucky swore he’d never seen such display of elegance as he saw her for the first time. Her dress cut was low, displaying the top of her cleavage and her collarbones which were sure to have been dusted with some sort of illuminating powder. She looked exactly like the type of person who’d sit next to a powerful one, equally magnetic and miles away from the cardigans she usually wore, sometimes stained with pen and markers due to Sadie getting to them. He almost forgot she was mad at him, gawking at her like a teenage boy. 

     - It’s 8. - she reminded him, effectively bursting him out of his bubble. - Are we leaving or not? 

     - Don’t be icy. - he offered her his arm but she refused, instead holding onto her heart shaped white clutch. - Car’s downstairs, you sure you don’t need help wearing those heels?

     - I can walk in heels perfectly fine, Sergeant Barnes. Do you need help?

     - I feel there’s an old man joke in there somewhere. - he helped her put on her coat, a tiny white chiffon bolero. - Shall we?

He wasn’t getting any close to her being any less detached from him, but he couldn’t help but admire her. She was a beautiful woman, that he knew, and she was definitely magnetic although she’d prefer to hide it. Yet, there was something about the way she looked tonight, so confident. 

     - You do look beautiful, Y/N. - he broke the silence that had been filling the car for the past ten minutes and for the first time in weeks, she finally looked him in the eye, a light dusting of heat covering her cheeks. - You do. 

     - You don’t look bad yourself. Except for the crooked tie. 

     - My tie is not crooked. - he fought back. 

     - Yes it is. - she turned her body to face him, her hands moving to undo his tie before she started to re-do it again. It was such a small action, such a simple and almost worthless action yet it reminded Bucky of some hopeless romantic notions he used to have. It was so simple, such a soft touch. - You can’t tie a tie to save your life. You never did. 

     - You’d been letting me walk around with crooked ties and you didn’t say anything? That’s cold, Y/N. 

     - That’s why you can’t braid Sadie’s hair to save your life.

     - What are you talking about? She loves it when I braid her hair. 

     - If that’s what helps you sleep at night. - she smirked. - Do they have good food?

     - Pardon?

     - Do they have good food at the charity ball or is this an entree and champagne sort of event?

     - Why? Are you hungry? Want us to drive by Five Guys and get you a burger or something?

     - I know you’re joking but I actually would like that very much. 

     - They will be serving dinner at the charity dinner, Y/N. 

     - Won’t be as good as a Five Guys burger. 

     - Wouldn’t know. 

     - What do you mean you wouldn’t know?

     - I’ve never had one. Not a fast food kinda guy.

     - Urgh, you’re such a man. - she rolled her eyes in a playful manner. - Tell you what, after this is done I’ll buy you a Five Guys burger. 

Bucky left the conversation there, happy to have gotten some smiles and smirks from her. At least he knew there was a chance for reconciliation whenever the time came for him to massively screw up in a way which made her forget the events which had made her mad currently.

He liked her company, she was never trying to suck up to him or sweet talk him into bed. She just talked to him as if he were anybody else on the street, as if he were someone she’d known forever, not caring for formalities or conduct. However, she knew how to be the right one for this kind of event. Bucky found that immediately as they walked in and he introduced her. Everyone was enchanted by her, complimenting her and questioning more and more about what she did. She hid from most of it, replying politely yet refusing to share more than surface level information but even so, Bucky had to admit she even managed to steal the spotlight for a bit, while she had to admit she wasn’t hating this as much as she expected to hate it. At least as long as he stuck by her side. His touch on her naked shoulder as he helped her take off her jacket, his hand resting against her hip as he introduced her to CEOs and CFOs as if she were more than just the nanny. It lulled her almost in a fantasy like state. 

     - Y/N, this is Delia. She works at marketing down at Saks. 

     - You didn’t tell me you were bringing a date, Barnes. - she smiled. - I wouldn’t have bothered coming if you were bringing a date.

     - Y/N’s my plus one. - Bucky said. He wasn’t wrong, she said she’d be his plus one, but did he have to say it so fast. 

      - You’re still trying to impress her then. - she playfully put her hand on his arm making Y/N uncomfortable. She clearly wasn’t meant to be in the middle of whatever this is. She didn’t want to be in the middle of whatever this is. - You know, he can be very ... persuasive. 

      - Will you excuse me?

She made her way away from the two who were more interested in each other, at least as she saw it. She knew Bucky was a bit of a ladies’ man but it didn’t mean she wanted to experience it, or see it for any matter. It always made her somewhat uncomfortable, like her heart stopped for a second. Instead she just leaned against a wall, watching as the people walked by and stopped to chat to each other. When she was little, this was exactly what she expected these sort of events to be like - beautiful women and handsome men just walking hand in hand in expensive clothing, talking of the world and its affairs. She just never expected to be looking at it, instead of being part of it. Not that she wanted it, at least that’s what she told herself as she nursed a glass of expensive champagne. It was as if a dark cloud descended upon her as she watched from the outside, doing the best of her ability not to look at Bucky still in high talks with Delia. Why he bothered with Anna when he could easily find anyone else was beyond her. 

    - I thought it was you, Miss Y/N. 

    - Professor Anderson. - she straightened her back as if her mother had scolded her. - How was your holiday? 

    - It was great yet here I am back to work with a load of work on my desk. Yours being one of them. I have to say, I am very excited to see what you came up with. 

    - I wouldn’t be too keen. My other supervisor doesn’t seem to have taken a big interest but I’m working on another version. Making it a bit more succinct, easier to digest. 

   - But that has never been your forte, has it Miss Y/N? - she wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult, either way it was a correct observation, so she merely smiled nervously. Supervisors didn’t tend to disagree to a degree where she could just relax and not consider another year of expenses. 

    - Well, thank you for taking the time in advance. 

    - It’s what I work for. Bright people, new ideas. - she slightly raised her glass in a cheering manner. - Actually, I must introduce you to someone. 

     - It’s really not necessary. - last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself in front of someone important or see Bucky yet in another flirtatious conversation. His sex habits didn’t really interest her ... not right now, at least. 

     - Mr. Davis. - she approached a man who had equally found solace in the quietness of a corner. - May I introduce you to my PhD student, Miss Y/N?

     - It’s nice to put a name to a face. - he extended his hand towards hers, smiling with an ease that made him look as if he had come straight of a fairytale book. 

      - Mr. Davis graduated top of his masters’ class in Psychology just a few years before you started at Columbia. It is a shame he didn’t stick with us for graduate school. 

      - Alas, I wanted to experience the real world. 

      - I should leave you two to discuss things. I’m sure you’ll find you have much in common. 

She felt nervous around this man. He was attractive, attractive in a way which usually made her believe he’d want nothing with her. Attractive men usually didn’t yet he was eyeing her as if he’d never seen nothing like her. Perhaps he’d discovered that her dress was bought at a TJ Maxx for 70% the original asking price or maybe he’d noticed a scuff on her shoes. 

     - I saw you come in with Sergeant Barnes, I was hoping he’d introduce you.

     - You know Sergeant Barnes?

     - I work for him. - the poor thing. - Marketing division.

     - What is a psychology graduate doing working in the marketing division?

     - I believe you should understand your customer before you try to sell them anything. 

     - What? Like the colour pink makes people believe things are sweeter?

     - You can’t sell someone something by portraying it as a fantasy. People turn against it eventually. - he quipped. - But you’d know that, considering you’re every males’ fantasy right now and every woman has made you the enemy. 

     - I hardly believe that’s true. 

     - You walked in by the side of New York’s most eligible bachelor, I’d say that’s true. Yet again, who can blame him? Smart and beautiful? I too would be parading you by my side. 

     - Would you?

     - Actually, if you were my date I would’ve kept you home. God knows the things these men would actually do to get your attention. 

     - Like being a psychology graduate? - she smirked. - Sergeant Barnes is my boss. I look after his daughter Sadie. Helps pay for graduate school and it’s a rent free place to live. Besides, Sadie is just the most adorable girl I’ve ever seen. 

     - You mean to tell me I’m the first one to know that you are available?

     - I wouldn’t say I’m available. Maybe just browsing. 

     - I do work in marketing, beautiful. I can sell myself pretty well, if you’d ask me. 

     - Huh, and how would you do that?

     - You’re a Columbia student. I could maybe take you to the riverside park, we’d go on a walk, I’d woe you with my distaste of Freud’s theories and methods, and then we’d finish with a picnic.

    - Maybe I like Freud’s theories, have you considered that?

    - Nonsense, no smart woman would. 

    - I’m free Sunday night. 

    - So am I.

[nephriteknight]

So I've been thinking a lot about Serena Blackwood, and in particular the fact that the name "Sereno Blackwood" is a common alias, referring to the book The Serenity of the Black Wood. It's interesting that she's using this alias in such a professional capacity, and it made me wonder if she might have been a character we already know of before she changed her name.

My first thought was that she might be Eva Dewulf, which is... possible? They don't look much alike, but Serena does specialize in Forge so that could theoretically be explained. Also, Eva wrote a book, Eva's Treasury, on the Forge skill Anbary & Lapidary, so they have some interests in common.

Notably, Serena lacks Eva's title-giving pale hair, but that's nothing dye couldn't fix. She also lacks the snake, which is a shame.

Obviously there's some issues with this, mainly that Eva died a century and a half before Serena became librarian. I don't think it's hard to argue that Eva might have survived and even become immortal; in The Crossing To Noon, Garcia Sauri implies that the story of her drowning might be untrue, and that she might have sailed to Noon with Franklin Bancroft. Although in The Lady Afterwards (and maybe elsewhere, but this was the first I heard of it) we learn that those who drink from the water of Port Noon are forgotten by the world, and can never "make a name" for themselves. Given that even the seaweed in Brancrug is named after her, I doubt that's what she did.

(If she did become an Obliviate, though, it would make sense for her to use an alias that comes from a story about their origin. That said, there's no indication I'm aware of that Serena is an Obliviate or even a Long at all, including in TLA where she is an NPC and that information might be relevant. She certainly hasn't drank the water of Port Noon -- though she does recognize it as special on sight -- given that the 12th librarian has no issue remembering her in House of Light.)

She might have survived in some other way, though. Father Theo believed that she was trying to avoid a family curse, which might have been the unfixable "flaw" in a person she alludes to in Eva's Treasury (though that could just as easily refer to her father and brother's madness without believing it to be a curse). If she was cursed, and she was comparing that curse to a jewel, perhaps she might have turned to Forge to fix that flaw? I'm not super convinced by either potential curse, though (and it seems like neither was Theo); one of them just sounds like more classism/xenophobia towards Hafren, and Red William's story is extremely uncertain. Although I do wonder if his curse/prophecy was actually that there would be no seventh baron (rather than baroness), not "no seventh of [Hendrik's] line". We know of two men who should have been the seventh male baron: Eva's brother Eales, who went mad (in a violent way, unlike his father), was imprisoned and then escaped, and Eva's son Sebastian, who died in the Seven-Years War. Maybe she feared a similar fate would befall her grandson?

I'm not sure if there are ways to extend ones life by 150 years without becoming Long in Secret Histories, and it seems unlikely (though not impossible) that Serena is Long. It's still certainly possible that Serena is somehow Eva, and I feel like it makes thematic sense (the librarian who first greets us in the game -- with her key, her bust, and her address in House of Light -- being Eva, the baroness with so much historical significance and mystery; it also ties into themes about what is lost to the sea returning, which could include Serena's key and Eva herself), but certainly not enough evidence to make a solid case. Who else could it be, then? Thirza Blake comes to mind, but they are nothing alike, and I'm struggling right now to think of other historical women whose whearabouts are unknown. Which brings me to my personal favorite theory, though I'll readily admit there's little evidence:

An expert on transformation using the feminine version of an occult alias? Maybe Serena's trans! Not only is that excellent, it also opens up some more possibilities for who she could have been before taking up the alias. I might come back and talk about those options in more detail, but this post is already long so I'll leave it at that.

(I'd love to hear any other takes on Serena's identity or Eva's fate! I have no idea if this has been discussed before, I'm relatively new here -- hopefully I wasn't just rehashing old points!)

[crimeronan]

god i know i keep half-tongue-in-cheek saying that my dad is literally belos owlhouse but. i've apparently gotten a little desensitized to Just How Bad He Is (because i have ESCAPED, YAY) & so today has been a delightful adventure.

i wrote an AITA post from his POV about stuff that happened several years ago, bc i was curious about how bad he'd get dragged - i updated the timeline but the Only fact i changed was the reason for his Woes (i blamed COVID economic struggles, which actually makes him a Hero compared to the truth. the truth being so ugly i'm not gonna detail it here good god).

i kept it true to POV by only using things that he actually did say to me at the time about why he was doing the things that he was doing, & blocking out all the relevant info about why the wronged party (me) was so upset, & having him praise his daughter (me) and go "i love her so much :) she's so smart and independent and i would never hurt her :)", & having him half-assedly admit he might've sounded unreasonable/angry/malicious, in a way that was clearly supposed to earn Good Dad points for being so Willing To Admit Imperfections, despite a continued constant doubling-down refusal to answer questions about actual important shit or fix anything ever.

cannot emphasize enough that this was not a fictionalized/embellished/creative POV. the only points of fiction were 1) my dad did not write these things on reddit, he said them to me in real life word for word instead and 2) this happened many years ago, not like... yesterday.

anyway the thread blew up and the commenters were all so kind and genuinely worried for me (as in, the daughter) and offering so much help that i hopped on a diff account to be my past self so i could reassure people i'm okay & had a plan in motion for gettin' the hell outta dodge. because i felt REALLY BAD that they didn't know i..... did in fact get out. people were so nice it made me actually fucking cry jesus CHRIST. i had in fact perhaps forgotten that these things were all as bad and worrying as they were

now. this is all a very serious and harrowing-sounding prelude to the actual point of this post, which is. a bullet list of some of my FAVORITE FUCKING RESPONSES. revel in these with me i had so much fucking fun. i have taken DOZENS AND DOZENS of screenshots to peruse whenever i need a healthy dose of Perspective

here they r:

you are CARTOONISHLY EVIL?

HOLY ABUSE BATMAN

DO BETTER. RIGHT NOW.

did you even listen to yourself writing this. HOW

there's something seriously wrong with you. like on an intrinsic unfixable level

hey this happened to me too! my parent died and i had a party about it btw

your daughter is never going to speak to you again after this

(note from the future: yeah)

you're going to act confused and sad when she goes no-contact aren't you

(NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: HE SURE FUCKING IS)

i think you are creating your own problems and then getting mad at them. maybe instead you could not do that

is this ragebait. i can't imagine anyone this horrible actually existing

this isn't ragebait. i can tell this isn't ragebait because I Know This Kind Of Man So Intimately

you are the asshole on literally so many levels i'm going to write a 15 paragraph response line-by-line dissecting everything wrong with you

are you aware that you're lying or are you literally this incapable of 2 seconds of honest self-reflection

i need to donate to a gofundme for your daughter right now immediately

(note from the future: i am not going to scam people by pretending a long-done sitch is a current emergency on gofundme. have no fear.)

wow. okay i'm gonna go hug my mom and thank her for not being you

you are Actually Literally Empirically the Actual Literal Worst Parent who has Actually Literally Ever Existed

HOW FUCKING DARE YOU????

WHO DO YOU FUCKING THINK YOU ARE.

I AM A 57-YEAR-OLD MOM OF FOUR ADULT CHILDREN AND THE MERE THOUGHT OF DOING ANY OF THE THINGS YOU HAVE DONE HERE MAKES ME PHYSICALLY NAUSEOUS

these vibes are so skeevy. leave her the fuck alone????

along with ASTONISHINGLY accurate inferences about exactly what was happening with the daughter (me) in all the missing missing reasons & like..... exactly how the situation was So Much More Ugly And Horrifying than an innocently confused i'm-so-well-intentioned dad-POV post would have you believe.

so. anyway. that was literally the most validating experience i've ever had in my entire life. i know i've said he's a bad guy before but i also always forget just how far beyond the pale he is. like wow that was. that was not a normal average human experience to have growing up huh.

IN CONCLUSION.

if you guys are ever wondering why i am the way that i am about, like........ anything....... everything....... whatever......

just remember.

i was raised by belos owlhouse.

[fulltimesapphic]

@mrghostrat made more.

I can’t stop myself.

Writing for that one.

Jesus fucking Christ here we go. This one’s a bit longer. *scrolls all the way down* damn, really a bit longer.

The bookshop was quiet. A bit too quiet. Crowley snapped his fingers and a sweet soft sound started filling to room.

The song? Crazy little thing called love. Crowley and Freddie were hanging out one time, Crowley, as usual was talking about his angel, and the next time he saw the musician the song had been written. In the bubble bath of all places. (True story)

The aforementioned angel walked into the room Crowley was sitting in. They currently were not talking to each other. But maybe….

I gotta be cool, relax. Get hip and get on my tracks

Take a back seat, hitchhike, And take a long ride on my motorbike

Until I'm ready, Crazy little thing called love

Crowley wouldn’t speak to their angel but maybe they could still talk.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, catching on to what the demon was doing. Little lion man played.

Take all the courage you have left

And waste it on fixing all the problems, That you made in your own head

But it was not your fault but mine, And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time. Didn't I, my dear?

Crowley snorted. “Yeah you did”

Shit. She wasn’t supposed to talk to him.

“I-…. I know. I know I hurt you. Believe me I know. But I regret it. There’s not a day that goes by where I regret my choice. Heaven is unfixable. You probably think I’m quite stupid.” Aziraphale let out a small laugh. “I thought I could make it better. But as usual, you were right. And don’t make me do the dance. Or do! If that’s something I need to do to help you forgive me, I’ll do it gladly! Ah- um… anywa-“

“I don’t think you’re stupid…” Crowley said so softly it could’ve been a whisper. They cleared their throat and spoke again.

“I’ve never thought you were stupid. Misguided? Yeah. Optimistic? Absolutely. But never stupid.”

He paused, unsure of how far to go. “I thought you were brilliant.” He finished voice cracking.

While she was talking, she had stood and crossed to stand close to Aziraphale. Both of them were very conscience of every inch between them. Or more accurately, lack of inches between them.

Aziraphales eyes flicked around his face, rested on their lips but ended on the sunglasses hiding Crowley. Hands raised slowly, unsure.

Crowley gently put his hands on Aziraphales elbows a moved them up to Crowleys face. He removed the glasses.

“There you are” Aziraphale said, a look that Crowley couldn’t quite place, filling his eyes as he took in her yellow eyes.

“Have never told you how much I love those eye? Cause I do. Really love them. They’re my favorite part of you. Incase you were ever worried that I hated you for being a demon. That I was trying to fix you by bringing you back to heaven.”

Crowley hadn’t moved. It felt like he was collecting dust.

“They’re perfect. You’re perfect.” Aziraphale continued oblivious to what he was doing, the feelings he was stirring.

That’s what the look was. Love.

It was hard to tell who moved first but for the sake of argument, they both did and met in the middle.

They had wasted so much time. Over 6000 years wasted. But no more. (Ha dr who reference( the brainrot is so fucking real dudes))

Hands on the face, arms around the neck, bodies pressed against each other, leaving no space in between. They only broke apart when they had run out of breath. Angels and Demons can only hold it for so long.

Crowley smiled. The first smile in a long time.

“I also love that smile. And the hair, and the snake tattoo and th-“ Crowley kissed him again. “Sssshut up”

“Make me” Angel said with a smug smile on his face.

“Really? That’s how you wanna do it? Why not just ask, if you like me kissing you so much?”

This time it was Aziraphale that shut the other up with a kiss.

The music had stopped playing a while ago but now a new song came on.

Everyday.

“Nnnooo!” Crowley said before lunging to change it while Aziraphale cackled behind him.

I put so many romance tropes in this. Ima big big fan of the “there you are” when Az take of the cursed sunglasses. And the “make me” thing. Whenever I see that I just like melt. Anyways congrats on getting here! Hope you enjoyed

[honey-on-your-tongue]

All That Could Be

Series masterlist

Part one

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: I don't even know what to say. I've been watching House MD lately and just 😩😩😩 can't help myself. I'm as delulu as it gets.

“I'm getting a divorce.”

That's how Wilson greets you one morning, storming into your office.

You pause, blinking at him. “Why?” you finally ask, the shock still present but slowly wearing off. You can almost hear House saying something about Wilson cheating. “Did you cheat on her?”

Wilson frowns, looking confused and almost offended. “No. Of course I didn't.” He pauses for a moment, almost hesitating before adding, “She did.”

You bite your tongue then. You're not going to lie, Wilson has the bad habit of trying to fix people who are unfixable. His past three wives and House—among thousands of others—are clear proof of that. Still, you don't understand how someone could do that to him. He's as sweet, kind, thoughtful as they come. How do you hurt someone so devoted to helping you in any way he can?

“That...sucks,” you say stupidly.

“Understatement,” he replies, walking past you, towards the couch in your office and plopping down on it, defeated.

“Alright,” you allow, turning to him. “It's a horrible fucking thing that she did to you. But—” You cut yourself off, recognizing this is no time for a lecture, but knowing that making him realize that he falls into the same pattern again and again would probably be easier now that the wound is raw and vulnerable.

“But what?” he asks, glancing up at you.

You sigh softly, sitting beside him. “But maybe...you should ask yourself why this is your third divorce.”

He blinks at you, his brown eyes staring into yours. “Where is this conversation going?”

“Wilson. Three divorces,” you emphasize. “Three wives. What did they all have in common?”

He frowns and asks, “Me?”

You shake your head. “No. All three of them were...well, broken. All three of them had no interest in fixing themselves.” You bite the inside of your cheek, hesitating for a second before finishing your sentence, “And you desperately tried to fix all three of them. Do you see the issue?”

He places his elbows on his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs, and your office is suddenly extraordinarily quiet. Like a black hole has sucked all the life from it, and there's nothing else but you and this silent, hurt man beside you.

Finally, he speaks, “Okay.”

You pause. “Okay?” you echo, confused.

He nods. “Yeah, okay. I'm too involved in helping other people even though they don't want to fix themselves and then I'm disappointed when they do exactly what I knew they would.”

You try to help it, you truly do, but by now, psychoanalizing people is almost instinct. You just can't hold back.

“Can you think of a reason as to why you do that?” you ask softly in that soothing, therapist voice.

He glances away from you, staring at the far wall. He's avoiding answering the question by pretending to think of an answer, but you don't call him out on that. You let him take his time.

Eventually, he sighs. “Maybe?”

You nod. “So you've realized that this whole 'fixing other people' thing is a behavior that rises from an issue you may have with yourself?”

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he flickers his eyes to yours before looking away again. “Yeah,” he says, his voice strained with emotion.

You nod slowly. “James.” You speak his name softly, carefully, and he finally meets your gaze. “I think that maybe you try to fix other people because you feel that if you can fix them, you'll somehow fix yourself. Do you think I might be right?”

He exhales thickly before rubbing at his eyes with one hand. “You know, uh...can we—can we not do this? Today? Like. I just...” He frowns, chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes glancing around as if looking for the words to appear in your office.

You place a hand on his shoulder. You've known him for years, and you can read him like an open book. “You want friend me, not psychologist me,” you guess, tilting your head a little.

His brown eyes find yours. “Yeah,” he breathes, a soft sound of relief that seems to wash over the room like a tsunami, breaking the tension and leaving the atmosphere feeling lighter. “Yeah.”

You nod. “Alright. She fucking sucks,” you state. “That was absolutely an asshole move. Like—what the fuck?”

He grins slightly. “Thank you.”

You shake your head. “No, no. Don't thank me. Come on, get it off your chest. She's a fucking bitch. How did you find out?”

He sighs. “I didn't. She told me. I mean, shit's been weird at home lately. We were constantly avoiding each other, we'd fight over everything, she was never home and neither was I.” He shrugs. “What else should I have expected?”

“I'm sorry, Wilson,” you tell him honestly. “You deserve so much better.”

He scoffs softly.

You raise your eyebrows. “You don't agree?”

He shakes his head. “No—I mean, yes, I agree, but I don't think I'm gonna find someone different. I seem to keep attracting people who are unfixable.”

You nod, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Take a brake from dating. Just don't let it even cross your mind. Forget about romantic relationships. Focus on yourself. Try and fix yourself and you'll see everything falls into place.”

“Okay,” he says. “Alright.”

You smile gently. “You know I'm here if you want to talk. Or break things. Or get drunk and high or whatever.”

He laughs softly. “I don't really plan on doing those last two but, uh, I appreciate it.”

You nod again. He gets up, walking towards the door. He swings it open and just before he leaves, he turns back to you.

“Just...out of curiosity,” he says. “Um. How would I recognize if I were falling into another unfixable relationship?”

You think on it for a moment. “Well. You'd have to see how you're feeling around that person. And you'd need to recognize that you're desperately trying to help them with things they're not interested in. Also, you have to keep in mind that a relationship goes both ways. You give and give and give, but does the other person do that too? Or is it only you?”

He nods, still not leaving. “And how would I know if I find someone I can have a healthy relationship with?”

“Um. I'm guessing you're not going to feel that eagerness to please them with everything and you'll realize that you're not the only one who gives. And when problems arise, you won't have to solve everything on your own.”

He stands there, still eyeing you, his gaze locked on yours. You get the feeling he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. After a while, he tells you, “Thank you.” And he walks out of your office.

[babeczka415]

Die For Me - Part 2

MC POV:

I get out to my car and I put my bags in the backseat. I should have known this was coming but man not wearing my engagement ring hurts. I let out a sigh and pick up my phone. I have nowhere to go so I call Jessy. She answers and I hear Dan in the background say something and her laugh. “Hi MC, everything okay?”

“No, do you think I could spend a few days with you and Dan?” I ask hoping she doesn’t ask me what’s wrong on the phone.

“Yeah but we will need to talk when you get here,” she says and I hear the concern in her voice.

“I know, thanks bestie” I say as I hang up the phone.

I see my phone background. I wonder where we went wrong. He proposed to me just over a year ago, and we were so madly in love. I go to call him but I stop myself as we both have hurt eachother so much this last ten months. I pull out of the driveaway and head over to Jessy’s.

 I have a key and I open the door. I hear them in the kitchen and they sound so in love. I wonder if I did the right thing, but Hannah and Lilly are going to take his side as soon as everything comes out. Jessy has always been on my side. I put my bags down and I walk into the kitchen. 

“Hey!” she exclaims.

“Hi’ I say sadly.

“‘What wrong boo?” asks Dan.

“MC where is your engagement ring?” asks Jessy as I grab a coffee cup.

I sigh as I close my eyes. ``It's over, it has been for a while and we have been faking it, ``I say, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

‘What did he do?” asks Dan.

“It was both of us. Don’t get in the middle  you two please?” I plead with them.

“What happened?” Ask Jessy

“We fell out of love about ten months ago and didn’t want to admit it. We’ve both been sleeping with others during these times and we both caught eachother. It’s unfixable at this point and I’m unsure if I want to try and fix it.” i say 

Jessy looks at Dan and he leaves, then she turns and looks at me. “I doubt it's unfixable. You two are perfect for eachother. You’ve both been under a lot of stress just maybe you guys need space.” she says holding my hand. 

“No Jessy, this time there is no fix. Not for this one, we both knew it when we fought this morning. I’m going to the guest bedroom and going to unpack. I still need to get the rest of my stuff but I’ll find my one place so I'm not putting you two between us. I know Dan is his best friend now and you’re mine so that puts you guys in a bad spot.’ I say as I walk out of the kitchen. I hear Dan on the phone in the living room.

“She’s here man. I don’t know what happened but you two need to fix this.”

In moments like this I wish I could hear what he is saying but I give up and grab my bags as Dan looks at me.

I’m in my room. I unpack my bags and sit on the bed. I think back on what could have happened and all I can think is we fell out of love. But did I really stop loving him or am I just scared?

Jakes POV:

I watch her walk out of the office with her phone. She doesn’t say anything to me and I hear the front door slam shut. I know she’s gone, this is really over. I look at the engagement ring on the desk and I try to figure out where we went wrong. I never stopped loving her really. Are we just not meant to last forever like everyone thought? I walk into the bedroom and I see most of her clothes are gone and I sit on the end of the bed. I look at my phone and want to fix this. There is still a large part of my heart she still holds but we both cheated for this long by acting like everything was fine. 

I never imagined us to have gotten to this point. I remember asking her to marry me, we were both so excited for the future and it was only just over a year ago. We kept pushing this wedding off, saying we were just too busy to do this but really we didn’t want to. 

I wake up to my phone going off, I realize I dozed off and I see it’s Dan. “Hi Dan.” I say answering. I know she probably went over there.

“What the hell is going on with you two? She’s here and not wearing her engagement ring. She says it’s over.” he says into the phone.

“We havent be in love for ten months. We both” he cuts me off.

‘I call bullshit. You two are eachothers soulmates.’

“Daniel! We both cheated on eachother for ten months.'' I feel my anger getting the best of me.

‘She’s here man. I don’t know what happened but you two need to fix this.” “There is no fixing.’

Dan is silent and I know she’s right there. ``She can hear you huh?” I ask him

“Yes but she just went to the guest room. Why don’t you come by for dinner? Let you both calm down and we can figure out where you guys went wrong.” he says. I know he’s trying to be a middle man for both of us but there is no fix.

“Sorry but no.” I hang up the phone.

I look at my phone and I see a picture of us and my heart breaks. We did this to eachother without even caring. I guess we should be happy we didn’t go through this wedding but it still hurts.

I open my chats and open her name. I see she’s online and I start typing.

Jake; MC, I am sorry for everything. I know we can’t fix what happened. I just hope you find true love.

I see her typing and deleting and typing and deleting over and over again then a get a notification

MC: Jake, I am sorry too. We shouldn’t have let this go on this long. I thought you were my true love but I guess we were both wrong. I don’t regret falling in love with you and getting to know you. I just wish we could have seen these signs sooner between eachother instead of it happening now. I hope you love and trust someone else again. 

MC: I will come by in a couple days to get the rest of my stuff, I just need to find a place as I'm at Jessy’s and Dans right now.

Jake: I know, he told me. He thinks this is fixable and we will get back together.

MC: So does Jessy but I doubt that can happen. Goodbye Jake.

She signs off and I sigh.

[humanafterall5555]

Entry #3

— The softness and the warmth of love turn into the violence of absence when it leaves —

Some time has gone by. It is indeed very hard to say I have gotten over it, as that would be a lie. Things are better though. The skies look clearer and intentions feel pure.

There are moments when resentment and anger invade my soul and my thinking. Moments where it is hard to draw the line, where the only emotion guiding your thoughts is how hurt you are.

It is early for her to leave my mind, but it is time I start making my peace with the cage of unsolved stories that keeps her inside me.

I have learnt that the feeling of abandonment, although terrible, signals a key symptom of evolution in this process. The acknowledgment of discomfort. Yes, I do indeed feel like that. I do feel like we had everything and time and space tore it to pieces by just keeping our stories apart from one another. I do feel like I wasn't loved like I deserve to be loved.

And you know what? It is okay to feel it. It is great to point at discomfort to be able to close stories and stop trying to fix the unfixable, even if my solving nature keeps on making me feel like there is always a solution.

The point is, I may have not received the love I deserve, but I was given all she could give, the best way she knew how. And on the other way around as well. Maybe the best we could give wasn't enough for the other one. That just happens, that's life.

As I accept this, I feel the cage opening. It is liberating. It is also deeply sad, to be honest.

Because now, I am left with just the pain, not the reasons I thought were the root of it. These reasons were just the fingers pointing at the fire.

But once the fire is discovered, although it may burn, and as long as it is isolated, it is just a matter of time that this fire, sadly, extinguishes. Leaving us with the ashes of what we were, but freeing us from the sparks of the "what if" and the "what we could have been".

End of entry #3

[chrispychrisalis]

i cried

Today, I had a mental breakdown. When I was exercising, I suddenly went on an impassioned rant about how I could never do the things I want because I am in no position of privilege to take my time to graduate nor extend the number of semesters I stay in school for.

I can’t be in that position, so why bother changing where I am right now?

I don’t like the feeling of knowing that I’m not ok.

When I was 8, it was the first time I had a suicidal thought. I remeber asking God if I died that my remaining 72 years of life would be transferred to other people. I was such a little philanthropist.I never did die, considering how I’m still here, but the deep feeling of sadness has never stopped haunting me.

When I was 17, I experienced my first panic attack on the toilet bowl. I cried, hiccuped, felt like I was unable to breathe. The reason? After my family had gotten COVID it was up to me and my sister to buy dinner for everyone. We had been doing this for days, until one day as we bought KFC my mom got mad about some drink changes and it made both of us so miserable the only way I was able to let it all out was cry on the toilet bowl. I do that a lot.

Today, after my pent up feelings of not being able to live my life as per my wishes were released, my family came home from dinner. I dont know what happened but suddenly my mom got all mad about us not minding our own businesses and how we keep trying to fix her hoarding behaviour, and suddenly our sibling chill time at the dining table ended in a few minutes. I stared at the alcohol in her hands and wondered if it was the alcohol’s fault, but as I recalled the story of Bojack, I realised that substances dont make people do things, its just a scapegoat.

My sister chose to left the table, while my brother tried to use humor to comfort her. Me? I sat under my study table and cried my little heart out until I realised I was way to loud and went to bathe so I could continue sitting on a stool and cry.

If I let my mom know I cried because of her as I did in the past, it will turn from her saying sorry to her getting angry because its not like she can do anything to fix it so how about I just stop crying? If my brother sees me crying he will call me emotional. I cant cry because I was not directly impacted. According to their logic, the spillover effects from what they do should not hurt me, but yet with every argument and every sibling gathering at home getting broken up, I feel so lonely. 

Sometimes I feel that because I dont self harm, nor do I actually attempt to kill myself, I dont have depression. But maybe I do, and I've just been avoiding that sense of emptiness and sadness that I cant just seem to shake off. I feel like im unfixable and mentally broken. Why am I only 20 and so sad all the time? If i can be this sad when Im young, where does that leave me for the rest of my future? How do I move forward? What is my future even?

Who am I?

[emerson-kane]

Shadow and Bone [Not spoiler-free]

[3.5]

Before I get into my critiques, I want to say, I did enjoy reading Shadow and Bone. I read the entire book in one day and plan to read the entire Grishaverse this year. This was the trial book to see if I was truly going to try and read all seven books, and I'm at least continuing onto the second book now.

Now onto the critiques...

1. "I hate myself" "I'm so ugly and weak!" I severely dislike this trope. The girl who thinks she is incapable of finding love, being pretty, winning a fight, or doing anything. I wish more fmc's liked themselves, not saying they have to be egotistical, but think they have a place in the world. And yes Alina does eventually find her voice but it takes more than half the book for her to like herself. On the other hand, if Leigh Bardugo really wanted Alina to be the "ugly" one, I think she should've made it more in depth. What makes her ugly? Her unkept hair, the dirt in her face, unwashed clothes, and malnourishment. All of this is fixable. Gives us something unfixable. Give people a reason to call her unconventionally attractive besides, "She needs sleep and food.".

In general I kept repeating to myself how I wished the characters were more complex. And we see a tiny bit of complexity with Alina and at the very end. The only complex characters were the Darkling and Genya. I wish Alina dipped into it earlier, maybe she wanted to give into her powers, maybe she wanted to make people cry and beg for mercy after she got handed her deck in life or show the trauma Mal has from battling, more than "He won't talk to me".

1.5 Alina is weak, can't fight, and can't hunt. How did she get into the military? Surely this is some kind of entrance exam to join. If so, how is she so incapable of doing anything related to the military.

2. I will admit before going into this book I knew very little of Russian culture. But after reading it, I decided to research a little along with reading other reviews that mention this issue. Many others have mentioned this, but: - Treating kvas as equal to champagne. For what I read it's impossible to get drunk off of them and many children drink them. - The female characters have male last names and male characters have female last names. - While Bardugo says the language is made up and based off of Russian, some of the words are just Russian. Like kvas for example. But other words are directly from the Russian language and translated incorrectly.

I know some will argue, "Okay? Why does this matter? It's fantasy." Because it would've been very easy to fix. And no one says you have to base your fantasy country off of a real existing country. I will add Bardugo has talked about this and has apologized.

3. This one isn't a critique just my opinion. Love triangles. It's one of my most disliked romance tropes. I will say, I was pleased with how this love triangle ended, rather than mc picks boy 1 and now boy 2 hates her because she won't date him.

4. Good vs Evil. This is a YA fantasy book and not adult fantasy. But I would've liked to see less cut and dry, this is good and this is evil, and we are good, and they are evil. Towards the end of the book we get to see Alina have a moment were she isn't the savior to protect them from evil and has a moment of "evilness" herself, but I wish there were other times we could see her not being completely good.

---

Even though I have frustrations with the book, again, I did enjoy it. I read the entire thing in a couple hours and only put it down a few times. I enjoyed Genya's snarky comments on the royal family. I enjoyed reading about the Darkling's character, how he went from acting like a child to threatening to destroy the lands, showing how truly immature he is (whether it was on purpose or not). I am interested in the rest of trilogy and it gets extra points because its in 1st person and I loss interest fast in most 1st person books and I not once thought of dnf-ing the book.

[lizmitches]

will always jump on the opportunity to get you writing… 8. “you don't have to pretend to be alright around me. ”

8. “You don't have to pretend to be alright around me, you know.”

Barbara startles as the words ring through the empty sanctuary. She turns her head just enough to see Melissa standing a few feet behind her, arms crossed and head tilted in infinite question.

"I don't pretend," she insists, and the scent of Melissa's perfume as she steps closer offers a stark contrast to the typical church staleness. Barbara inhales for what feels like the first time all day.

"Last time I checked it was bad to lie," Melissa says. "Especially when you're sittin' in church." She takes a seat, finally, leaving a good amount of space between them; a breathable, friendly, normal amount. "Been looking for you all night. Is it a mortal sin to answer your phone?"

"I've been...otherwise occupied."

Melissa makes a show of looking around the room, empty except for the two of them and dim enough that she has to squint to make out the painting of the Messiah that's hung above the lectern. "Looks like it."

"Very funny."

"I was worried about you. The kids said you and Gerald had a pretty nasty spat in the parking lot." Before Barbara can ask, Melissa adds, "Just Jacob and Zach. It's taken care of. What happened?"

Barbara shakes her head. "The man's not sure what he knows, but he knows something's not right. And I'm losing the strength to keep telling him otherwise."

"And coming to church at 10 o'clock on a Wednesday night seemed like the answer to that problem?"

Barbara shrugs. "Being here seems to be the only thing that brings me any sort of comfort these days."

Melissa opens her mouth to say something but decides against it, suddenly enamored with the baptistery. "Can I ask you something you're not gonna like?" She asks instead.

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"Did you really come here for comfort?" Barbara can barely make out the way Melissa's looking at her, but it's enough for her to feel not just naked, but transparent; a glass house after dark. "Or are you just here to suppress what you're trying to avoid?"

Barbara closes her eyes against the question, not wanting to confront the words as they float in front of her. What she can't see won't hurt her; like averting her gaze when getting her blood drawn, or turning away from a bad accident on the freeway. Sinful, blissful ignorance.

"I'm here because soon it'll all be gone," she admits, opening her eyes to the harsh truth. She turns to look at Melissa, breath catching in her throat as she falls right into the other woman's eyes, drowning. The truth bubbles to the surface. "It occurred to me today. We were standing there fighting like children–like the people we always laughed about, the people we judged–and I thought: what about this is worth fighting for?"

The question bounces off the walls, and although Barbara has never been to Confession she imagines this is what it feels like; pitiful, shameful, broken. "I'm going to lose everything. My husband, my church, my reputation. I could–" She clears her throat to cover for the way it breaks. "I could lose my girls."

Melissa breaks eye contact to stare resolutely at the pulpit. "Maybe," she says. Because for as much as Melissa also pretends, she's the most honest person Barbara's ever known. She doesn't waste time attempting to fix the unfixable. Instead, she asks, "But what could you gain?"

Barbara's brow furrows. Amidst the overwhelming feeling of loss–the grief for what was to come–she had lost sight of the impending relief. Decades of suffering about to give way to joy; a flower blooming where there is no room for it.

Freedom, Barbara thinks as she follows the slope of Melissa's nose down to the peak of her lips. Clarity, honesty, satisfaction. You.

"Y'know," Melissa says, interrupting Barbara's mental checklist, "this place is a lot creepier in the dark. And without the music." She crosses her legs and reaches an arm across the back of the pew. Her eyes droop as she leans her cheek against her palm, gaze drawn to where the choir usually stands. "I miss hearing you sing."

Barbara looks down at her hands in her lap, clasped tightly out of habit. "And I miss singing," she says into the dark.

Beside her, Melissa's head bobs once, then twice, as she begins to doze off. Her breath evens out in the same way it does on the nights they lie together in silence before Barbara's alarm sounds; a harsh reminder that their home is not together. If she thinks hard enough, Barbara can almost hear the grandfather clock ticking from Melissa's living room; can feel the red hair splayed across her naked chest.

The sun rises, and they steal away, Reverend Williams had recited last week as she sat in this same pew with her husband. They return and lie down in their dens.

It's only a minute before Melissa inhales sharply, catching herself right before falling. "Hey, hon?" Her voice is hoarse and unbearably tender, eyes still closed.

"Yes?"

"You'll sing again." She says it with such drowsy conviction that Barbara not only believes her, but knows she's talking about much more than just her voice. In the dark, Melissa searches for her hand, finding it and squeezing. "Wake me up when it's time to go, okay?"

"I will," Barbara answers. And it's true for both.

[tragedymelp]

[TAPE 1]

[DO NOT DISTRIBUTE, THIS TAPE IS ONLY FOR PERSONAL USE]

[ The camera focuses on to a sofa from behind, in a way where you can only see a bit of someone's head. There's only a dim light on the room, so the head is at the moment indistinguishable. The camera is slowly getting closer, a few spikes visible. Whatever it's there suddenly gets up and turns around. ]

MURASAKI: I was waiting for you.

INTERVIEWER 1: Sorry, traffic was too slow. Sit down, let's start.

MURASAKI: Alright then! Hello everyone! Wait is everyone gonna see this? Who's gonna see this?

INTERVIEWER 1: As far as I'm concerned no one, don't worry about it.

MURASAKI: Okay then... Hello! I'm at—

[There's a glitch on the tape. You've been trying to fix it for a long time, but there was no use on it.]

INTERVIEWER 1: Alright then, let's start with the questions! First of all... How do you feel about your band? I mean both Squid Squad and Front Roe.

MURASAKI: I loved being a part of Squid Squad! Ichiya and I would sometimes prank eachother, it was so fun! Then there's Ikkan, he was like a big brother to me, so nice... I still talk with him. And... Namida, she was SUPER kind and if I needed help she'd be there always! About Front Roe, the only one who changed is—

[More static. Practically unfixable, you won't even try.]

INTERVIEWER 1: Wow, you seem to have a lot of fun with your friends!

MURASAKI: Of course! They're my friends after all, I love all of 'em equally.

[The camera cuts, and there's another room. This room doesn't have anywhere to seat, only the floor. It has shelves and shelves full of books, games and figurines. The camera pans to a certain part of the floor, where theres someone laying down. They look tired and about to fall asleep.]

INTERVIEWER 2: Woah, what happened to you? You look so tired.

KAZAMI: You've bought me here at—

[The screen turns black and suddenly KAZAMI is sitting, a bit less tired and looking happier.]

INTERVIEWER 2: Wet Floor is a great band. How did you meet?

KAZAMI: Well, I've been friends with Tsumabushi for a long time. I remember a day when we were sitting on a park when we saw the rest. They were trying to get money by playing on public, so we decided to talk to them. Apparently though, they weren't poor or anything, they just wanted to see if they were capable of forming a band.

INTERVIEWER 2: Well, that's... something, definitely. Have you met the other bands? Maybe Ink Theory?

KAZAMI: Oh I've met them! Such sweet girls... One creeped me out a bit, she's just—

[Another room, this time there's a table on the middle of the room with two chairs. Nobody appears to be there. Suddenly BIBI enters the room.]

BIBI: Yo, you in here?

INTERVIEWER 4: Yes, take a seat please.

BIBI: Such a fancy place... are you the owner?

INTERVIEWER 4: You could say so. Anyways, you're the kazoo player? From ink theory?

BIBI: That's right.

INTERVIEWER 4: You've been in so many magazines... Are you also a model?

BIBI: Nah, they just somehow admire my face.

[INTERVIEWER 4 hands BIBI a picture, she looks shocked]

INTERVIEWER 4: Do you know who this is?

BIBI: Yes, that's... Paul, right? From SashiMori?

INTERVIEWER 4: You're correct. Apparently he was Pearl's replacement.

BIBI: I know but... What does this have to do with me?

INTERVIEWER 4: Well, you see—

[The recording is cut and you can now see MURASAKI in an empty room. No shelves, no carpet, nothing, just the floor. He's laying down in a fetal position and his expression is one you've never seen on his fave before, not scared, not sad, not angry, not happy. Just nothing. It almost looks like he's dead. INTERVIEWER 1 enters the room with INTERVIEWER 3.]

INTERVIEWER 1: Get up!

INTERVIEWER 1: I said GET UP!!

INTERVIEWER 3: I thought I told you to keep him alive!

INTERVIEWER 1: And I did!! I just forgot to... give him food...

[There's a black screen but you can still hear them fighting. Something shuts them up and shortly after the camera falls down, cutting the recording again.]

[Right after that KAZAMI is seen again, she's holding the camera and focusing it to the books on the shelf, as if she was looking for something.]

KAZAMI: Okay so... If someone sees this... I'm searching for a paper, anything that will give me a clue of why we're here. This doesn't feel like an interview anymore, I'm scared. I don't know how I fell into their trap, but—

[The camera starts moving, it looks like she's running. Then, INTERVIEWER 2 enters the room]

INTERVIEWER 2: Let's get back recording, alright?

KAZAMI: Sure!

INTERVIEWER 2: So, do you know Front Roe? The new "version" of Squid Squad?

KAZAMI: Of course I know them, I really missed their music! Specially Ichiya's voice!

INTERVIEWER 2: What do you think of them? Do you know them personally?

KAZAMI: I haven't talked that much with them, but they're all great people! Namida is quite shy and an introvert overall, but she can keep great conversations. Ichiya is incredibly cuddly, always wanting to be with someone, that's so cute of him. Oh, also, Murasaki! He's a great guy and knows a lot about drums! And then theres their new member, he's kind of creepy if you ask me...

INTERVIEWER 2: Creepy? Why do you think that?

[A black screen. Just after that, BIBI appears again, face completely pale and in a corner of the room.]

BIBI: I don't want this... WHO ARE YOU?!

INTERVIEWER 4: I've told you already, I'm your interviewer! Aww, you're so scared.

[BIBI runs out of the room and INTERVIEWER 4 follows her, leaving the camera there. There aren't any noises, until a new voice talks]

KARLA: How weird, I was told to come here...

KARLA: Is that a camera? Oooh! Let me check it!

[You can hear KARLA fidget with the camera for a while until she accidentally turns it off.]

[There's something that simulates credits, the picture being MURASAKI laying down on the ground, that green goo on his eyes, KAZAMI is sitting on a sofa, her cheeks red as if she was crying and BIBI sweaty and tired, about to fall asleep]

[THE END OF TAPE 1.]

[marvels-writings]

Like a Mosaic

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

Summary: Reflections are often distorted, making it so all you can see are flaws. You think they make you broken, but she thinks you beautiful

Word Count: 1k (comfort fic)

A/N: So this is a comfort fic for when i was feeling really insecure earlier, I got inspired by a song Make You Feel, i think you’ll like the fic tho.

Mirrors show the truth, but sometimes they distort it. Showing you what isn't there, hiding what should be there. Sometimes amplifying what we don't want to see while hiding away everything we want to look at. Your reflection stared back at you, but it wasn't... you.

The flaws you hated oh so much taunted you, the perfections you saw in yourself seemed to hideaway. But you still didn't see any disappointment in her eyes when she looked at you. Not a trace of anger when her fingertips trailed up your arms.

Her touch brought you from your flaws into her perfections. The softness of her hands against your skin, the way her hands came across your waist. Your eyes met hers in the mirror, admiring the way the sun hit her eyes. The light from the drowning sun danced across her features, bringing to light all that you admired.

Admiration is what shone in her eyes when she looked at you. Pure admiration for all that you are. All your flaws, all your perfections, it was all you. She could never see you the way you saw yourself. She could never find flaws in you.

"I don't like what I see." You murmured, looking away. Wanda frowned, licking her lips. Her hands came down to your waist, gently tugging you away from the mirror. You let her pull you away, her fingers twining with yours, pulling you into the center of the room

"I wish you could see yourself the way I do." She whispered, pulling you closer to her. Her nose nuzzled the base of your neck, her breath across your collarbone. Her hands splayed across your back, grasping at your t-shirt, pulling you impossibly closer.

"What would I see?" You asked, watching as she lifted her head from your neck. Green eyes glanced across your every feature, committing it to memory. Golden light shone on her face, glinting in her eyes, showing her as ethereal to you. She saw the same beauty in you.

"Perfection," Wanda whispered, eyebrows furrowing when you shook your head with a smile. Licking her lips at your rejection of her words, she traced her fingers near your jawline, guiding you back to her. The way you looked at her, was more than anything she could deal with.

You were so vulnerable, your eyes so open. But you were scared, scared she might leave you. All she did was hold you closer. Letting the light wash over both of your bodies as her hands tugged you closer to her. No words she could say could convince you out of your thoughts.

All she could do was stay with you, through it all. Through the darkest storms and the wildest daydreams. Through the most colorful sunsets and the angriest arguments. She would stay through everything because you were all she had ever wanted and needed.

"I'm not perfection, Wanda." You muttered, breathing against her shirt. her hands settled above your waist, moving so she could look at you. Her head tilted to the side, trying to see what you saw as imperfect. She still couldn't see what you hated so much.

A part of you wanted her to see what you hated. You wanted to force her to look at your flaws and your imperfections and demand why she still stayed. You wanted to know why she still chose you, after everything. After all the arguments, all the faults, all the scars, she was still there. Why?

"I'm the kind of broken you can't fix." You said, shrugging as if it was something obvious. A painful smile drew its way across your face, adorning itself with the tears which fell so freely from your eyes. Her thumbs tried to sweep them away, to take your pain away.

"Maybe what's broken doesn't need to be fixed." Wanda countered, watching you hesitate at her words. She tried to smile at you, reassure you that everything would be okay. But that wasn't a promise she had the right to make.

"Then why is it broken?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. She hesitated, biting her lip tightly. Just when you thought she might not answer, she shook her head with a smile. Her hair fell into her face, the waves resting on her shoulders.

"Because it can be beautiful, just like a mosaic." She replied, her smile growing. It was her turn to watch you smile at her, shaking your head at her words. Maybe you even believed her this time. Not completely, but your smile was enough for her.

Enough for her to bring you closer, resting her forehead against yours. Your smiles matched, her fingers trailing up your arms before finding their way around your neck. Her fingers brushed against your neck as you swayed, playing with the baby hairs on your neck.

You shivered at the touch of her cool fingertips, smiling as you pulled her closer by her waist. Your thumbs dared to brush under her shirt, watching as she giggled at the sensation. Her smile was so wide as she stared at you, her eyes so full of adoration. Just for you.

"Thank you," You whispered, smiling at her. She tilted her head to the side, shrugging as if to ask what you were thanking her for. Her eyebrows furrowed, her nose scrunching adorably. It amazed you sometimes how she didn't know.

"For making me feel alright."

She smiled at you, leaning forwards and promising you always, kissing you softly. Her touches held her promise to always be there for you. Her kiss promising herself to you, always. Everything she did promise herself to you. The way her fingers tugged you closer, the way she shuffled nearer to you.

She loved you so much, too much for her to see that you didn't like your reflections. But reflections are always distorted, her eyes could never distort your beauty. In your eyes, you may be broken, unfix-able. To her, you'll always be like a mosaic.

A/N: Please tell me what you think, whether it be comments, reblogs or asks, i appreciate them all

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart​ , @summergeezburr​ , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean, @higherfurther-romanova , @natalia-quinzel , @blackxwidowsxwife , @studies-styles , @procrastinatingsapphictrash , @mxxnmocha , @ladyeliot , @wandavixen , @blurryylines , @thewidowsghost let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[river-bottom-nightmare]

You know, I feel like Jason would absolutely believe that he cannot love becouse he's technically dead.

Like, I can't take the image of him watching the cover of "pride and prejudice", sighing and going «oh, mr. Darcy. I wonder how does it feel to love?» off my head.

But I think it's probably just me.

okay that’s actually pretty funny babe but just imagine. just imagine the angst you could pull from this. 

in my own personal hc, and this is just me, i believe jason is ace + a huge romantic at heart. growing up reading every old novel about a beautiful, flowering love story only added to it, and by the time he was 15 and an certified member of alfred’s book club, he was all long sighs staring out a window and looking for all the grand romantic gestures he could find and finding symbolism in the flowers and the sky. 

but then he died. and then he woke up. and then drowned in a bubbling pit of green and came back rage-filled and vicious. 

talia whispered in his ear nothing but lies, tracing the pointed tip of her nails along his throat as she told him he was broken, he was unfixable, he was unlovable. she already told him bruce never looked for him, she already told him bruce replaced him immediately after he died, she already told him that the chance at familial love was out of the question for him. so it was easy to go one step further, to tell him that the lazarus pit erases everything but rage from your heart. the lazarus pit fixes your body and destroys your soul. there's no real "coming back from the dead." which means jason's ability to love was gone.

jason believes her, just like he believes everything else she tells him. he didn’t start questioning her after his plan shattered to pieces, after a couple long years trying to put himself back together and calm the fury he felt at bruce led to him being able to talk to his family without throwing a punch. 

there was a twinge of doubt, because maybe talia lied. bruce never loved him enough, but he did love him. dick, tim, and cass were reaching out, despite everything he did to them. there were more things jason and the family disagreed on then agreed, the important things, but he’d discovered that having tea with alfred every once in a while didn’t usually bring up topics of morality and self-worth.

they usually brought up topics of cooking and alfred’s old gun collection and old romance novels jason used to love. talia was wrong about everything else, maybe she was wrong about this too?

but then he thought back to the moments he and bruce still argued, the green that filled his vision. anger was still the emotion he felt most of all, despite what alfred and dick told him. it took effort to shove down the bubbling hatred he felt when he looked at tim. with all of that inside him, was there any room for love left?

jason didn’t think so.

[jaedore]

BINDING BONDS | 10

< prev | next >

parings: jung jaehyun x reader

genre: ceo!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, asshole Jaehyun, swearing

[ ☽ smut (suggestive) | ◇ angst (belittling, swearing) ]

note: BB deals with themes of mental and physical abuse, which can be upsetting for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable reading these types of plots, you are advised to not continue. MINORS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, but I advise you to skip the sexual parts.

[ 8k words ]

You can feel the Spring breeze settle on your skin, the cooling wind planting goosebumps on your naked back as it brushes the blankets from your body. You reach for Jaehyun and his warmth, but the familiar body isn’t next to yours. Lifting your heavy head, you search for him in the room to only find him leaning against the balcony, overlooking the city below his feet. Putting on one of his t-shirts, you walk to him and put your arm on his back, rubbing circles on it. Jaehyun’s gaze continues to stick to the city. To you, it looks like he didn’t get a lick of sleep, dark eye bags painted his face, restlessness coating his eyes, his face showed no emotion. 

“Good morning,” you smile. You comb your fingers through his hair hoping to alleviate whatever weighed his mind, “you okay?” 

Jaehyun slightly nods to you, his head falling before he turned to face you, “yeah,” he said, “let’s get going or we’re going to be late.” 

With that, Jaehyun turned around to head back to your room. Confusion blurs your mind as you watch his figure pick up the discarded clothes from last night. Why was he acting like this? Usually, he’d still be in bed and holding you in his arms, being all lovey-dovey. Was it something that you did last night that he didn’t like? Were you giving too much? Or too little? Did he just not get enough sleep? Nothing but the latter would answer your question after seeing him rub his face. 

“Do you want to go grab breakfast before we go? We have a bit of time,” you glanced at the clock. 

“No, actually. I’d like to get home as quickly as possible,” Jaehyun responded, not giving you a glimpse as he shoves clothes into his luggage, his hands tightening in stress as he didn’t bother to fold them but instead bunch them in his fists. 

“Okay,” you drag out, “are you busy at work?” You asked. You wanted to know if something came up from work that he suddenly had to attend, but that thought disappeared as Jaehyun peered at you with a sliver of frustration. 

“Yes, please. Let’s go home.” 

You two board the plane, sitting next to each other not peeping a word. The tension between you two was so heavy that even the plane itself would struggle to cut through it. You sat still in your seat focused on your tablet as you did some work, but you also didn’t speak to him, afraid that you’d set something off. And Jaehyun didn’t say anything to you, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. 

You’re only married to her for business, you think this is all happy and fairytale-like? That everything’s all lovey-dovey just because you’re married upon a contract? No, I bet she doesn’t love you, she probably hates you because of you who are. A dirty, scathing, slug who only clings to the Jung name. Get your head out of your ass. The words his father spat at him echoed in his mind, it was like he etched his own words into Jaehyun’s brain, making sure they’d stick there. 

He turned to you, who fell fast asleep, your head hanging over your tablet. Like second nature, Jaehyun gently supported your head until it was up against the headrest, he knows you’d complain about the pain if you stayed in that position. You looked so graceful, harmonious, you are everything he’s ever wanted but he knows he’s far from perfect. Jaehyun knows that you are perfect, that you deserve someone perfect, someone better than him. Who was broken, unfixable, and cold. Last night was the last night you were going to have each other, for he was convinced that there will no longer be a moment to cherish, a moment to be intimate, a moment to love. You were too good for him and he had been too selfish. 

When he saw you about to wake, Jaehyun snapped his head back to the window, waiting for the sight of home to desperately reappear and for things to go in the way they were meant to be, just like how it was in the beginning. Maybe it was always supposed to be like that. 

Perhaps you were tired and drained, or possibly just sleeping to avoid conversing with Jaehyun. You knew he was still frustrated so you didn’t think it’d be the right time to talk about your trip, you hoped you could reflect on that with him when he’s ready. You genuinely enjoyed every bit of it and you have hope that he did too. 

It’s 5 AM when you arrive back home, the dark night sits upon you two like the mood. Not a word has been exchanged since this morning before boarding and the feeling that you did something that wasn’t pleasant to him still lingered in your mind. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, your body shifted in the passenger seat towards his.

“I’m perfect.” 

“You haven’t talked to me ever since last night.” 

“I’m just tired, the time zone has me all messed up,” Jaehyun responds, his voice calm. 

Bullshit. You thought. “What happened at work? You said it was because of work that’s got you frustrated.” 

“I fixed it on the plane. We just had to seal a hard deal, but everything should be fine now.” he keeps his gaze on the road, but you saw the way his fist tightened against the steering wheel like he was trying to refrain himself from saying something. 

You reached for his free hand that rested on the console, “you know you can tell me anything,” you caressed it.

“I don’t want to talk about y/n, I had a hard day today.” He responds in a calm tone, but it’s enough to slightly set you off in a bad mood because you were just trying to be considerate. 

You don’t bother to respond, so you pay no mind to him the entire ride back home. You two are quiet in your seats again, letting the hum of the car above the pavement take over the silence. 

The sun begins to rise as you two safely arrive home, ready to sleep through the day hopefully to prepare yourselves for the following weekday. You two are quick to shower and change and settle for bed. You wait up for Jaehyun as he finishes doing his nightly routine, gazing at his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom you try to read his expression as to what is really wrong with him. Jaehyun wasn’t acting normal to you, but maybe he was telling the truth, that it is the jetlag and he’s just had a really hard day. 

Jaehyun glances at your posture, reading how your arms are crossed and your forehead is creased, it definitely lets him know that you want to talk, but your features soften when you catch him glancing at you. Your arms fall to your sides and you turn away from him, covering yourself under the sheets as you let out a disappointed sigh. In the flash of a second, he knows that you’re disappointed. Were you disappointed in yourself? Or in the tension between you two and his lack of care to communicate to you?

Quietly, Jaehyun crawls beside you, mimicking your actions, his back facing you like there was a wall between and no one dared to knock it down, for who knows what chaos it would bring. 

The next couple of mornings brought coldness to your body. Every morning when you woke up, he was already gone and out the door, not a text was sent, not a note was posted. Nothing. Like he just vanished in thin air until he appeared with the moon when you were deep asleep. 

You went to bed every night alone, too tired to wait up for him. You tried to talk to him, but it’d always just result in him brushing you off like the dust on the picture of you two in Paris you gifted him. Even if you did talk to him, it was short and general. When you tried to ask him what was wrong, you’d apparently press the wrong buttons and an argument would ensue. 

One night you grew out of his silent treatment. As soon as he stepped through your shared apartment, the time had already reached midnight. Jaehyun walked in, surprised to see you sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in your hands as you gazed at the lights that protruded through the night sky. The image of you before him made him long for you. He knew you were upset, he could tell in the glint of your eyes when your head turned to the sound of his steps. 

“I didn’t think you’d still be up.” 

“I wanted to see you for once,” you respond.

“Look,” Jaehyun breathes, “it’s been busy at work.” 

“I can imagine-” you scoff, “-but do you think I haven’t been busy either? I still try to make time for us, but every time I do, it’s like you don’t want it.” 

“That’s not true. You know that.”

“But do I Jaehyun? You’ve been ignoring me for days! Every moment I talk to you, we always get on each other’s nerves and end up arguing. I haven’t even held you since we came back home. Please, please just tell me what’s going on.” You plead at the man in front of you, whose expression hasn't changed. You’re convinced that Jaehyun has turned off every emotion in his body, you’ve seen the cold, expressionless look too many times to count. 

“It’s just a bad time right now at work,” Jaehyun defends. 

“Yeah, I get it, everything is because of work. I got it,” you sigh, clearly too tired of the same answer over and over again. Perhaps it was a sign for you to stop. 

You stand from the couch, legs stiff from sitting so much, and you walk up to your room. Jaehyun doesn’t call after you. You even turn around to see him still sitting in the same position, his body facing where you once were. You wanted him to say your name, to run to you and envelop you, telling what was truly wrong. When the silence reached your ears, with sad eyes you left him in the living room until he was ready to come to bed. 

You don’t know when Jaehyun came, but when you felt the mattress dip behind you, you had a sudden urge to turn around and hold him in your arms, but when you turned around, you saw the well-known image of his back facing you. It took all of you to stop when you found yourself shifting your body towards him. You wrapped your arms around his large frame, sniffing the back of his shirt, inhaling the scent you missed every time you held each other. Leaning your head on his sturdy back, you heard his steady heartbeat. How peaceful it sounded. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, but please, let me know. I’m here for you, Jae. Please, please talk to me. I just miss you, I love you. I don’t know what happened that made us like this but please,” you beg, clutching onto him tightly as you prevent yourself from crying. You held him as tight as you could, afraid that if you loosen your hold, he’d slip right through your fingers like sand. 

Little did you know, Jaehyun heard you, he heard your sniffles and your broken voice. He knows you’re hurt because of him, but he also knows that this is for the better. It’s far better than if he were to completely give himself to you and let you do the same. So answering with silence, Jaehyun shifted away from your hold, leaving you alone and cold for the night. 

When he moved away from your body, you felt your heart clench. Your chest heaved and quiet tears streamed down your face as the cold air hit your chest. His silence and action threw answers that confirmed you were his problem. With a small part chipping from your heart, you turned your back to him, a regular body position you grew accustomed to. Minutes onto your side, you quietly turn back to check if Jaehyun was sleeping. His soft snores and long breaths proved your thoughts and with silent steps, you left.

You weren’t as silent as you thought, though. Jaehyun felt you leave, he heard you collect your things, shut the door, and exit the apartment. A big part of him wanted to sprint to you, but the other restrained him, bound him to the bed like the stars to the sky. 

Exiting the parking garage, you drove off into the night. You had no idea where to go at this time of the night, but the only person you wanted to see right now was your best friend. You took out your phone and dialed Haewon’s number, clinging to the hope that she’d pick up at 2 AM. 

After a couple of rings, the familiar voice rang through the line, “y/n? Why are you calling this late? Are you okay?” the grogginess could be heard in her voice and at once you felt bad for waking her up at such an inconvenient time. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Can I sleep at your place tonight?” 

“Of course. Text me when you’re here.” 

Haewon kindly offered you the other side of her bed, since it was big enough for you two and possibly even somebody else. The soft duvet fell over your figure as you wrapped yourself in the nostalgic blankets, remembering the feeling from when you were young and would always have sleepovers with her. What the old times brought.

As always, Haewon was kind in letting you lay in peace before speaking. You were a composed person always with organized thoughts, but how come the expression across your face contradicts that? 

“We’re fighting again.”

Haewon’s head shoots to you with wide eyes, your face still facing the ceiling, “are you serious?” 

You nod to her answer, not knowing what other information to provide to her that won’t make you break down in tears. You were always horrible at holding your emotions in for such a long time that the tears brimmed and streamed down the corners of your eyes, wetting the side of your face. 

“Oh, honey,” Haewon coos you as she wraps her arms around you, giving you the warmth of her hug and the comfort in her touch as she rubs circles on your back, letting you cry out everything you’ve shoved down. 

“Paris was fine, it was fun, and I thought things were going great between us. But the morning we had to leave, it’s like he shut off all of his emotions. He won’t even speak to me and every time he does, it’s short-lived,” you briefly explain as your breath is still stable. 

“Do you guys argue a lot?” 

You glanced at her, “yes, but it isn’t as bad as before. It’s not what you think, but whenever something small happens, he just bursts at me.” Even through complications, you still find yourself defending Jaehyun. 

“Arguing is still arguing y/n,” she breathed, “I can’t believe he’s still doing this to you. Have you talked about it to him?” 

You shook your head, “Every time I try to, he always disregards it or says it’s because of work.” 

“Bullshit,” it’s like Haewon read your mind, but only said them aloud. 

“I-I don’t know what to do Haewon,” you stuttered as your arms fell to your side. 

“Maybe something happened at home?” her voice rose in suspicion. No, she didn’t know about Jaehyun’s father, but there were always circulating rumors. 

You inhaled a sharp breath, yourself beginning to calm down from your high of crying, “maybe. I don’t know, I’m done trying to talk to him for now.” 

Haewon embraced you in her arms, “come,” she lowered your body to the bed, “let’s get some rest.” 

As you lay alone in the silence, with Haewon fast asleep, you couldn’t help but think that maybe the reason why Jaehyun’s been worked up is because of his father. Maybe something really bad happened between them and Jaehyun didn’t want to tell you. Were you two really lovers if he couldn’t communicate with you? But again, it is something very private to him. Your heart began to play games while your mind made sure to keep your thoughts linear, but your heart won the match and by the time the sun rose, you hadn’t gotten the slightest bit of sleep. You woke up before Haewon did, texting her your thankfulness before driving back to your apartment. 

Jaehyun also couldn’t sleep. Without you by his side, how was he supposed to? Even if he was the one to push you away for the better, he knows his heart only belongs to you now. His large body took over your space and his limbs stretched to all corners of the bed hoping that he could build the same amount of warmth your body did when it was here.

Carefully, you cracked the door open to your shared bedroom, Jaehyun laid on his back, conceiving all the space on the bed. The fall and rise of his chest made your heart waver because you just wanted to jump in bed, to feel him, and to smell that homey scent he always carried. How peaceful things were before...where and why did it go so wrong? 

“You’re here,” Jaehyun rose from his bed, snapping you from your trance, “where’d you go?” 

You shifted your gaze from him, “yeah, I spent the night at Haewon’s,” you grabbed your clothes that hung in the closet, not giving Jaehyun any attention and getting yourself ready for the day. You heard a small “oh” coming from him as he left for the bathroom. You let out a long sigh that neglected to relieve any tension your shoulders held. 

You swung your blazer around your shoulders as you sat down on the edge of the bed, after finishing making it. Just in time, Jaehyun came out of the bathroom. Hair wet, towel around his waist, robust body, what a sight that captivated your eyes. The last time you saw him this revealing was your last night in Paris and that was a while ago, everything has changed after that. He was so tender, soft, and kind, the longing feeling weighed on your chest as your eyes followed his naked figure into the closet. 

“Jae,” 

“Hm?” 

“Can we talk?” you asked. 

“What about?” 

“Why have you been avoiding me? Is it because of your father? Are you having nightmares again?” Your gaze fell upon your fumbling fingers before Jaehyun could snap his head at you. 

He hesitated, “no.” lies. Part of it was, but most of it was because of his own self. Jaehyun couldn’t risk ruining your successful life with his dark, corrupt one. You were the most perfect person he’s met, even with imperfections and flaws, he saw you as an angel. He saw himself as the dust that was even lucky enough to brush past your beautiful face. 

“Then what’s the matter? Why haven’t you been talking to me, Jaehyun? Everything’s changed since we got back from Paris.” You stood from the bed in your poor attempts to get closer to him. 

Jaehyun let out a loud sigh, clearly letting you know he didn’t want to talk about this, “can we just talk about this after work? I don’t want to start the day like this.” 

Again. Again and again. How many more times will he brush this conversation? How many more times will he brush you off? You felt hopeless like you were drowning and Jaehyun was in the boat above you watching you be engulfed by the water, yet refusing to give you the anchor. 

“This is pointless,” you mumble. You quickly collected your things and left after making sure to slam the door behind you. 

Jaehyun watched you leave, it hurt him every time you did because he didn’t know if you’d come back. Every time he made you leave, you were angry and the night would just end up being filled with slammed doors and cold nights, whether you were present or not. He stared at the bedroom door for what felt like hours, wishing that you’d come back and want to talk about it and fix things. But what was he expecting when he was constantly pushing you away at every chance that was given to him?

The day didn’t go by any faster, any moment you had to yourself, your mind was occupied with Jaehyun. Like he made a home there and didn’t plan on leaving. You found it hard to not overthink everything. From the home-cooked meals to the sex, you couldn’t find anything wrong that you did. Maybe he didn’t enjoy the sex? Am I too controlling? What if I’m not giving him enough? Or Any? What if that’s it??

You sat in your seat, completely disregarding the presentation. Who cares about rubber shoes? Audace is a chic, luxury fashion brand, we don’t do rubber. You were so occupied in your thoughts that with abruptness, you stood from your chair and left the meeting without a word. You carried your portfolio and bag out the door with you, not bothering to stop at your office. 

At Jung Corporations, Jaehyun had just finished a meeting while his father was at another meeting outside of the building. He thanked the gods for their grace in giving him his own office, he wouldn’t be able to last a minute in the same room with his father. Looking over the notes on his tablet, his mind wandered to you again. Like your mind, you lived in his. Jaehyun always pondered if you’ve eaten, if you were taking plenty of mental breaks, and giving yourself the kindness your heart needed. Especially when he was treating you like this, he was sure to tell himself that this is for the best. He knows deep down in his heart that you deserve someone who can love you better than he can. Someone who can not only give you the utmost, fulfilling love, but also life. 

Like his whispered wishes, you barged through his doors. Jaehyun stood from his seat as he watched you saunter up to his desk with determination and anger in your eyes. There was no greeting, no hello, no warning, but just you pressing your lips against his. Oh, how much he’s missed the feeling, the warming pleasure from your lips, and how they executed tenderness. Like his body was running on his own, his arms made their way home on your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You gently tugged on the hair that laid on Jaehyun’s nape as he lured you to his body, before picking your legs and brushing papers from his desk to clear a space for you. 

You weren’t even thinking clearly, you were only driven by your emotions, but you missed him so much that even this kiss was everything. It’s everything that you ever wanted and you were ready to surrender and give all of your morals to him. 

Wrapping your legs around Jaehyun’s hips, he made his fingers busy by unbuttoning your top that laid beneath your blazer, later tearing it from you. Jaehyun’s fingertips set your skin aflame, every follicle of hair, skin he touched was burning and aching for more. 

“Please, please,” you whined when Jaehyun’s kisses trailed to your neck, giving your sweet spot attention. 

Regrettably, those words snapped Jaehyun from his muse. This is wrong, he thought as he immediately pulled away from you. You stared at him with your mouth slightly open, ready to say something, but he beat you to it.  

“This is wrong,” Jaehyun choked out. 

“I thought that this is what you wanted,” you whispered. 

He scoffed in disbelief, “are you being serious right now, y/n? Do you even hear yourself? Thinking that I only want you for your body?” 

“Well, it seems like it is because this worked,” you shot back, jumping from the desk. 

“You think that I’m in this for the sex?” Jaehyun questioned you, as you collected yourself again. 

It was your turn to scoff, “I’d like to think that because you haven’t spoken to me at all.” 

“We just talked this morning!” Jaehyun retorted. 

“Not like that. I mean like, actually talking about things other than your day, your work. I’m tired of it, I just want to talk about the things you enjoy, the things you want to do with me in the future.” You explained, sliding your blazer back on your cold body. 

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t talk about you for a couple of days.” 

“That’s not what I meant! Oh my gosh Jaehyun, you are so oblivious.” You grabbed your things and left. 

You sat in your car, your head falling in your palms. What has gotten into you? This is not you, you never act so rashly like his. You’ve changed and right now you’re beginning to think it was for the worse. Tears threatened to brim at your eyes, but you pressed your palm against them hoping that they’d stay in because you still had half a day of work left. 

“Where have you been? You left so suddenly at the meeting,” your mother asked. 

“I just needed to take care of something.” You lied. 

“Is it because of Jaehyun? Is everything okay?” 

“It’s fine, we just had to figure some things out. Don’t worry about it mother,” you lied, again. How many more times were you going to lie to your own mother? Lie that you were okay and that you weren’t hurt, heartbroken?

“Okay,” she sighed in defeat, you were indeed stubborn, “well if you’re not busy, go check how the Designing Department is doing, and then you can head home. You don’t look too good.” 

“Yes, mother,” you nodded and headed to the lower level. 

You stood in the elevator, waiting for it to get to the designated floor. Your mind replayed your little stunt. You still hated yourself for making your way to Jung Corporations, just how desperate are you y/n?

Ding!

You stride towards the prototyping of the outfits, double-checking that everything was right. Making sure that each outfit was according to the style of Audace. You were already in preparation for Paris Fashion Week, you can’t let a small bead even be misplaced. Every stitching had to have the exact, appointed color; every fabric must be to scale and cut sharply, no loose threads. There’s no space for mistakes anymore. 

“How is this going, Chaeyoung?” Your eyes narrowed to speculate the embroidery of a jacket. 

“Perfect, we’re almost done. All we have to do is to sew in the beads in the embroidery.” Her head nodded to the jacket as her hands were occupied with another mannequin’s outfit. 

“I’m pleased to hear.” 

“Um, Miss y/n?” Chaeyoung’s voice called, but her tone was informal like she was talking to you as a friend. 

You turn towards her, humming for her call. 

“Are you okay? If I’m being honest, you don’t look the best,” she worriedly states. 

You blink a couple of times, even your mother said that you didn't look too good. Just how bad did you actually look? Last time you saw your reflection, you thought you looked decent, healthy at least. You nodded to Chaeyoung, “I’m fine, thank you. I’m actually heading home right now, so I’ll make sure to get plenty of rest.” 

“Oh...okay. I hope everything is okay.” 

Before leaving, you smiled at her consideration. It was interesting how everything ended up this way, especially between you two. You’d think that she’d have bad blood for you, but her kindness always made you reconsider that. In another world, you hoped that you two were genuine, friends.

You arrived home before Jaehyun, setting your things down at your feet, your body couldn’t even grasp energy to change. As soon as you closed the door, you grabbed a glass of water and sat on the couch waiting for Jaehyun to come home. 

The sky that was painted in streaks of red and orange, transfigured into dark hues, letting the moon take care of the people for the night. You found your mind reminiscing about your past and the fun trip to Paris. Everything was fun as long as it lasted, you somehow knew things were going to get worse before they got better, you just didn’t think it’d be this bad and come so soon. 

The familiar click of the door perked your head towards Jaehyun who looked like he had a stressful day. Maybe it was because of you, but you were silently praying that you were wrong. 

“Hey,” he greeted, untying his shoes. 

“Hi,” you shifted in your seat, waiting for him to come your way. 

Feeling the dip on the sofa, you two sat in silence, letting the absence of sound drape over the apartment. Only the sounds of the beating of each other’s heart could be heard among the hum of the city and the heat that flowed into your apartment. The flickering lights of the city reflected against your tall windows as you let yourself speak first. 

“What happened between us?” 

Jaehyun shook his head, “I don’t know.” 

“You’ve been avoiding me every second you have and when you do have a second, you’re arguing with me. Clearly-” you emphasized, “-I did something.” 

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then what is it? Is it your father?” your head turns to him, brows creased in concern. Jaehyun gave you no answer and you sensed that you were right, his father was the core of all this. “Jaehyun, it’s okay. I can help you.” you reached for his hand only to have him yank it away from you. 

“Don’t you understand? You can’t help me.” Jaehyun stood from the couch, walking to the kitchen. Frustration coated his words and it began to dig into your skin. You didn’t want to pry too much or press his buttons again, you just wanted to help. 

“Then tell me how. We can do this together,” your strides attempted to reach his figure, “I can find a way.” 

Jaehyun’s body rapidly turns to you, immediately making you stop in your tracks. Especially when you see red, anger in his eyes, “no, you can’t. Unfortunately, you can’t help me at all.” 

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, Jaehyun. We can find someone professional who can help.” 

“You don’t understand and you never will y/n!” He shouted. Your body slightly jumps from the reverberate of his voice, it’s been so long since he’s yelled at you like that and this time, it stings your skin like salt on your past wounds. “You will never understand because this-” he points to his chest, the one over his heart, “-is who I am.”

“No it’s not, this isn’t you Jaehyun.” you walk towards him, but Jaehyun only steps back away from you. 

“Yes, it is, y/n. This is who I am. I have been like this until you changed me for the worse. I cannot be fixed. I cannot be helped! I am like this!! This is who I am!!” Jaehyun repeats it several times until it’s ingrained in your mind. His shouting shoots at the wall vibrating his voice into your ears and it doesn’t sit well into your stomach. 

“You’re angry. I get it, let’s just breathe, okay?” You offer your palms to him, understanding that he could just be stressed. You’re ultimately wrong when he aggressively slides all of the papers and decorations off the kitchen table, letting the plants and papers crumble to the floor. 

“Don’t tell me to breathe y/n! I have held it in for so long, that I can’t do this anymore!” His chest rises from his hard pants. 

You stay quiet, anxious to ask him what flashed through your head in red blinking lights, “do what?” your voice is barely above a whisper, but Jaehyun hears it break. 

“This. I can’t do this marriage,” Jaehyun replies in the same tone. 

“When?” 

He looks at you with furrowed brows, “When what?” 

“Since when did you know you couldn’t do this?” tears begin to brim at your eyes, but couldn’t find care in the world to hold them back. Not after what you’ve been through, what he put you through. 

Jaehyun’s face becomes expressionless, “I don’t know.” 

“Don’t hit me with that bullshit, Jaehyun,” you scoffed, “since when did you fucking know?” 

“Our last night in Paris.” 

A loud sigh escapes your lips as tears stream down your face, wetting your cheeks, barely holding onto your jaw. “Then did you mean it?” 

“Mean what?” Jaehyun asks. His meaningless questions burrow themselves under your skin, how oblivious could he be?

“When you said you love me you asshole!” this time it’s your time to shout, but it’s more of a cry for help. You’re begging for him to give you the answer you want, but the world never liked playing on your side. 

It was like time had slowed down. You only stood a few feet from Jaehyun but it felt like miles. So far, yet so close. He stood in front of you hesitating his answer, debating if he could give you the truth or if it was better to rip off the bandaid and put a new one on it. 

“No.” 

You’re hysterical at this point, your cries turn into scoffs of breaths, which turns into laughter. They’re quick to rebound into loud cries when you feel your legs becoming weak. Instead of falling to the floor, you force yourself to stomp to your bedroom. 

Jaehyun’s eyes follow you, wondering what you could be doing. His answer quickly comes to him when you leave the room with your large duffle bag in your hand, full and zipped. 

“Where are you going at this time?” Jaehyun asks, surprised he even found the courage in him to ask. 

“Out. I’m done Jaehyun.” You slam the door shut behind, leaving Jaehyun in the empty, cold apartment. 

You ended up going back home, finding yourself in a spot where you had to explain to your mother. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you cried in your mother’s arms. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay to cry” she stroked your hair as she held you in her arms, “it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to feel what you need to feel.” 

Since your father was overseas, you slept with your mother, you couldn’t stand not being alone at this time. Being in your mother's arms reminded you of when you were little and you couldn’t sleep without her by your side, it makes you miss how easy life was. How happy you were without a worry. 

It’s been days since you’ve texted or called Jaehyun, he hasn’t bothered to reach out to you either. Every night for you was filled with tear-stained pillows and the unnerving feeling of calling Jaehyun, but you never reached across your bed for your phone. You two were good at being stubborn in ignoring each other, it makes you wonder if this was now the end. 

However, Jaehyun wasn’t handling the situation well. Every morning brought him agony that it wasn’t a nightmare, that this was real and you were truly gone. He stayed away from drinking, the clubs, and only locked himself in the master bedroom, away from the world. Jaehyun often looked out the window, looking below at the city. Knowing that the road leads up to the apartment building, he always watched out for your car, but he only saw it in his dreams. Jaehyun waited and waited for you to come back. Again, what is he expecting? He’s done his deed in pushing you away in the worst way possible, how much more did he want from you? Why was he now asking for you to come back into his arms when all you’ve been is forgiving and loving to him? And he was the one to ruin all of it? The one to just throw it away like it meant absolutely nothing to him when it really meant the world. It’s fucked up, it really is. 

Jaehyun thought about you every day. You live in his mind, you go to work with him, you’re in the car with him, you go to bed with him. He pretends you’re there in spirit, but he knows you’re physically gone. Insane, that is what he is. 

“Come on, it’s been days! You have to come out,” Taeyong speaks through Jaehyun’s phone. 

Jaehyun sighs, “not tonight Yong.” 

“You’ve been saying that every time I call you. You never come out anymore, is it because of y/n? Are you finally getting tied down?” Taeyong only says it to joke around, but little did he know, it had a great effect on Jaehyun. 

“Can you just shut the fuck up man? Jeez,” Jaehyun hangs up on Taeyong, clearly angry. He’s not though, he’s been constantly hurting, but Taeyong finds out the second he’s hung up on. 

That’s why in the next ten minutes, there’s a hard knock at the door, forcing Jaehyun to drag his body to the door. 

“What?” Jaehyun deadpans at his best friend who wore a smile on his face, which shortly falters after noticing the darkest bags under a pair of eyes. 

“What happened to you?” Taeyong walks past Jaehyun, welcoming himself into the apartment. He looks around, for never being in here, he considers it as a luxury apartment, but something was missing. It felt cold and empty in here. “Y/n here?” 

When he doesn’t get an answer, he turns to see Jaehyun silently crying, his head hanging in his palms. His shoulders shake from his cries as Taeyong embraces his best friend. Taeyong is completely lost, not knowing what was going on, but the only thing he knew was that he needed to be there for Jaehyun. 

“She’s gone,” Jaehyun sniffles. 

Taeyong pulls away to hear it again, hoping that the words Jaehyun expressed were false. Each time they’d meet up Jaehyun would never shut up about you, in the beginning, he’d grumble about the little things that you did that irked him, but as time went on, he found the little things to be the most precious. Taeyong found Jaehyun as a new jubilant person, he’d always look forward to things, he’d smile more at others, there was an unbeknownst glow that you brought to Jaehyun’s heart. 

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Taeyong’s brows creased. 

“She hasn’t been home for days Taeyong. She’s fucking gone!!” Jaehyun shouted at his friend, bloodshot, red, painted within his eyes. 

Days turned into weeks, which turned into a month. Yes, you kept count. It’s been almost a month without a sound from Jaehyun. You despised yourself for always checking your phone, thinking that the ding you heard was a text from him or a ring was a call from him. Your hopes failed you when you were faced with the ghost presence of him. A huge part of your heart wanted to forgive and go back into his arms, but another wanted to completely disappear from his world. You wanted to erase yourself from his story. You knew you couldn’t go back after he admitted that he couldn’t find it in himself to marry you or the fact that he didn’t mean a single action or word when you two were in Paris. 

Lies everything was a complete lie. You slam your portfolio shut as you gather your things into your bag. You informed your mother that you’d be home later, you had to go back to the apartment to collect your belongings. All of them. 

As you drive down the old road, little memories of you and Jaehyun lingered in your mind. The late, late ice cream runs, the drives to watch the sunset or sunrise at the pier, the little bits of laughter echoed through your ears, and the cold walks among the beach where you’d walk close to him. You two built many sandcastles that were washed away too soon by the harsh waves. 

The familiar, tall, silver building came into view too quickly. You parked your car into the parking garage and walked up to your room, your feet remembering every single step so well that you could’ve gone up safely with your eyes closed. You softly knock on the door, fully knowing that Jaehyun was home. After Taeyong visited Jaehyun, he called you that day, and several days after that, begging you to visit him for Jaehyun had been isolating himself and was completely miserable. 

The door swung open, letting a brisk wind blow past you, the nostalgic smell of your apartment softly hitting your nostrils. How much you’ve missed this. 

“Y/n.” 

“Hey,” your eyes scanned the man in front of you. Disheveled hair, dark eye bags, swollen eyes, and he looked like he’d been lacking in cooking for himself. Taeyong was right, he was completely miserable. But as much as your heart longed to forgive him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give him that kind of benefit again. 

“Come in,” Jaehyun opens the door wider for you to come in. Nothing about the place has changed. You’re surprised by such a messy image of him, the place is well kept. 

“I’m just here to collect my remaining belongings,” you reply, already making your way up to your once shared bedroom before hearing a quiet “oh” from him. 

The room resembled your heart, it was chaotic. The bed wasn’t made, the curtains were halfway drawn, drawers were slightly opened by his inability to shove his clothes fully in, the laundry basket was overflowing and spilling of clothes, letting it scatter amongst the carpet. 

“Jaehyun,” you silently whisper at the state the room was in. You weren’t mad, you were just disheartened that Jaehyun had been this frustrated that he couldn’t even take care of himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he shoved past you, “I didn’t know you were coming,” he tripped over his feet by trying to pick up his dispersed clothing from the floor. 

“Jaehyun,” you choked out at the poor man who sat on the floor, scrambling on his knees unable to get back up, and you couldn’t resist it any longer.  He looked so frail, like a broken vase that had just been recently glued. You rushed to him and held him close to your chest, letting out a choked cry and tears streaming down your face. 

Along with your cries, Jaehyun’s was also heard. He clutched onto your arm that settled around him, afraid that if he’d let go he’d lose you forever. Heavy sobs left Jaehyun’s chest as his tears stained your shirt, were you here to stay with him?

Jaehyun pulled away from your embrace, he caressed your cheek as he brushed a tear from your eye, “please stay. Stay the night before we both decide we’re over.” He didn’t let you give him an answer because he knew you’d stay. Picking you up into his arms, he carried your frail body to the bed as you attempted to calm your breathing down. Jaehyun was careful in changing you out of your clothes and into a shirt of his, for that was the only thing that was left now. 

Nonetheless, you let him carry you, change you, you let yourself stay because you knew that this was going to be the last night you’d see him. It was a horrible thing, but you prayed for only one more night with him. 

Jaehyun’s body came flush to yours, letting his arms wrap around your waist to bring you impossibly closer. He looks at you with eyes full of love but also drowned in sadness. He knows you’re not here forever. Without hesitation, Jaehyun pressed his lips against yours, the very distant memory of his lips sliced through your mind making you yearn for him. It’s only been a month, but it felt like years since you’ve felt those pink, plump, soft lips of his. Like always, it interlocked with yours like the key to a lock, like the last piece of a puzzle, like the calming of a river. There was no stripping of clothes, no coitus, just the two of you locking your lips together, feeling nothing but the actions of your mouths molding together. Jaehyun’s hands wandered your body, his mind needed to memorize the landscape of your body just in case you’d leave forever. But soon, they found a home in your hair and on your waist, while you found your place on his back and nape, occasionally tugging his strands. 

It continued for a while until your jaw grew tired, your mind was worn and you were emotionally and mentally drained. As much as you didn’t want to, you pulled away. Jaehyun’s head softly fell on your chest, hearing the steadiness of your heart before he closed his eyes.

“Thank you,” Jaehyun whispered before drifting off. 

When Jaehyun woke up the next morning, you were gone. The cold, wrinkled bed sheet telling him that you left hours ago without a sound. From the corner of his eyes, a glint coming from your side’s drawer glared his vision from the sun. It was your ring and a key on top of a handwritten letter from you. Jaehyun firmly rubbed his eyes, hoping that he was seeing things, but it was too good to be true. 

Dear Jaehyun, 

We’ve spent these past few months in hate, lust, and love. We have so many lovely memories that I’ll cherish forever in my heart. From the drunken laughs to the pillow talks, I’ve enjoyed each moment with you, don’t you doubt it. 

I wanted to thank you for the things you’ve taught me. You have given me the patience that I didn’t know I needed, you taught me how to forgive, and you’ve helped me acknowledge that it’s acceptable to stand up for what you believe in. Along with that, you taught me that people can change. I want you to understand that I was nowhere near trying to change you or fix you. You are not broken, you have the infinite ability for self-growth. I wanted to be there for you, I wanted to help you, trust me I really did. But I cannot be with you until you love yourself. I cannot see you love me more than you love yourself. 

Don’t lie and tell me you haven’t meant anything you’ve said or done up until now. I know your heart, I know there’s love in there for me, your actions were always better than your words. You were never good at lying, your ears gave it away, but even so, your words found its way to my wounds and like salt, I gave it to you to pour on me. 

We were always good at ignoring each other and running away from our problems. To this day, I will forever wish that I woke up next to you, but I can’t do this anymore. If you don’t want this marriage, and you mean it, please forgive me for giving you every access to my heart. I wish that I hadn’t settled into the feeling of being someone you loved. 

My last wish is for you to find love for yourself. You are worthy, you are worthy of love and to be loved. You were never broken, you just had some cracked areas and I hope that you can go back and paint those areas with gold. You are a strong man, you’re capable of love, always remind yourself that. 

By the time you get this, I’ll be out and probably somewhere lost among the crowd. Please don’t look for me anymore. I need time and I need to make peace with my heart. This key and this ring is my returned gift to you. I hope you can give them to someone strong enough to teach you what I couldn’t. 

And perhaps if fate allows, we will meet again when we are older and wiser, but for now, goodbye Jaehyun.

With all my love, 

y/n.