#not enough to make a deal out of it anyway

[enwoso]

BOUND BY THE PAST | alessia russo x child!reader

it’s another long one, 4.1k words of angst and a small bit of fluff in there somewhere🤏🏼. honestly this was fun to write, and i’ve also in the process lost the request so whoever requested this thank you!

but what i will say is, i really wouldn’t wanna mess with alessia tbh.. especially after reading this. girl goes full on mama protection mode.

anyways enough spoilers, enjoy!

grumpy masterlist | psa: this fic is set after a bridge to cross, so i would recommend reading that to find out who harrison is.

the emirates stadium was alive with cheers as the final whistle blew, alessia felt the familiar rush of victory as her teammates surrounded her. the game had been a triumph and the buzz of the crowd still echoed through the stadium.

alessia's gaze scanned the stands briefly, somewhere closer to the bench was alessia's parents and her older brothers along with leah's family all cheering along, them choosing to sit in the stands for once in stead of the comfort of the friends and family box to be able to feel the excitement of the win as the season was coming to an end.

but her focus shifted as she searched for some other faces entirely, you were seated in the box with your dad, harrison. it had all been alessia's idea, she knew her family were coming but if they were seated on other sides of the stadium.

in alessia's mind the plan was foolproof, she had told her family that you were having a going out with harrison, and she had told harrison step by step what to do to not bump into her family.

even leah didn't know about harrison coming to watch the game.

"so tiny isn't coming today?" leah asked as she sat tying her shoelaces clad in a full arsenal tracksuit, her hair in a messy bun.

alessia shook her head as she finished making her pre-match drink, "no harrison's taking her out for the day, it's the only day he could do this week and i think he said something about taking her to the soft play" alessia explained, it hadn't been the only day he could do this week and he definitely didn't mention a soft play.

alessia in her mind knew the plan would work, she kept it this way, not telling anyone as she knew how fragile yeh situation was. she didn't want to ruin the one of the last home games of the season for anyone or at least have to deal with the inevitable confrontation — at not before she had to.

—

"mummy!" alessia froze mid step, the familiar sound of your voice ringing out through the corridor as she tried to make her way to the family area after having been showered post-match. her heart skipping. a mix of delight and apprehension filling her chest.

turning towards the sound, her breath caught the sight of you bouncing down the hall, your tiny hand firmly clasped around harrison's.

harrison followed hesitantly, probably knowing alessia would say something to chastise him about not sticking to the plan. his tall frame towering over the little girl as he let her lead him.

his posture was awkward, as his shoulders were slightly hunched as a white t-shirt adorned his body his long arms filled with tattoos as he looked as if he wanted to shrink himself.

his eyes darted around nervously, scanning the area. he was well aware this wasn't the plan.

"y/n, slow down," he muttered, glancing back towards the way they'd came. he had hoped to avoid running into anyone, let alone alessia's family.

but you were determined, your hair which was in little pigtails bounced as you practically skipped towards the private family area. you coming to a hault in front of your grandparent, your uncles and leah's family who were in there too.

you looking up at your mummy's shocked face with an innocent grin, "i brought daddy to see you, mummy!" you announced proudly looking between both harrison and alessia as if you'd just presented your mum with the greatest gift

harrison cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly under the weight of several pairs of stunned eyes. "hello" he said softly, giving a weak wave.

the room froze, as alessia's parents exchanged wide eyed glances her mum placing a hand over her chest as if steadying herself more than likely knowing what was about to happen. her dad's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as they flickered to alessia awaiting for her to say something.

but instead it was luca who broke the silence.

"what the hell is he doing here?" his voice was sharp and dripping from venom as he already moved forward as if to place himself between harrison and alessia.

"luca." carol warned but it was too late.

harrison instinctively pulled you a little closer, your hand tightening around his. "i'm not- i don't mean to-"

"you didn't mean to what?" gio cut in stepping up beside luca. his tone was cold as his expression was one of pure disbelief. "show up uninvited? drag her into this?" he gestured towards you as you were becoming more and more closed off.

"i wasn't trying to cause trouble," harrison said quickly his voice calm as he glanced down at you who was looking around and at him with confusion, clearly sensing the tension. "she wanted to see her mum, i didn't want to upset her."

"you've already done enough of that," luca snapped his tone still laced with venom.

the comment from luca, seemed to hit a nerve. harrison's expression shifted, his calm demeanour giving way to frustration. he straightened his posture, squaring her shoulders.

"look, i get that you don't like me, i get that i've made mistakes. but im here for y/n now. i'm not going anywhere no matter how much you scowl at me"

luca scoffed, stepping closer, "you think a few months of effort erases everything you've done? you don't deserve to be in her life"

"luca!" alessia's voice was sharp, but harrison didn't back down as her voice blended into the background.

"you think i don't know what i've done?" harrison shot back, his voice rising slightly. "you think i don't live with that every day? i'm not here to make things right with you or anyone else in the room, expect my daughter. that's it."

"your daughter?" gio crossed his arms, his face hard as he continued, "the one you walked out on the moment things got tough?"

"i've owned up to that," harrison snapped, his calm composure was cracking, fast. "and i'm doing everything i can to fix it. you don't have to like me, but you don't get to decide whether i'm in her life"

"what do you not get, you don't get to just show up and demand to be a dad!" lucas's voice was sharp, his frustration boiling over, "that little girl isn't just some box you can check off to feel better about yourself!"

harrison clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides, "i'm not trying to feel better about myself. i'm trying to be a father to my daughter and for what it's worth, alessia seems to understand that — something you two clearly don't."

"enough! stop it" alessia's voice raising as it cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. she stepped forward, placing herself between her brothers and harrison.

"mummy?" you voice was trembling as it broke through the shouting, small and wavering. your tiny hands gripping the bottom on alessia's jersey, her big blue eyes wide and shimmering with tears as she glanced between the adults.

harrison's anger drained instantly as his gaze dropped to his daughter opening his mouth to try and fix it as alessia shook her head for him to back down.

alessia immediately crouched down, pulling you into her arms, "baby, it's alright," she whispered, stroking the back of your hair. but your body was tense and your little fists balled up into alessia's jersey as you buried your face into your mummy's neck, desperately looking for any sort of comfort.

alessia turned to look for leah, leah being stood quietly by the door watching the mess unfold, shock slightly radiating on her face as well as a small pang of betrayal as alessia felt she couldn't tell her that you were coming to watch with your dad.

leah had heard the yelling from the corridor as she surged down still buzzing from the win but her smile quickly turned into a frown when she walked into the room.

"le, can you take lovie out. she shouldn't be seeing this.." alessia begged as you clung to your mummy, tears spilled from your small eyes.

leah nodding as she pushed herself off the wall, her heart arching at the sight of your confusion. alessia tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as she kissed your forehead whispering an 'i love you' before handing you over to leah.

leah shifted you so you rested comfortably on her hip, as she began to turn towards the door, she shot alessia a pointed look. leah's voice dropping to a murmur, "i told you this would happen when they found out."

alessia's jaw tightened, her frustration boiling over, "not now, leah" she snapped her voice sharp as she gritted her teeth together. leah left with you to calm you down as alessia turned to look at the boys who were still arguing.

"you fucking abandoned her, and abandoned that little girl. you don't deserve the right to waltz back into either of their lives like nothings happened.” luca spat back as harrison's jaw tightened as he kept quiet but his mind was definitely ticking away of what to say next.

"and you think showing up here unannounced is the way to do is?" gio added his arms crossed over his chest protectively.

"unannounced?" carol, interjected gently her gaze shifting to alessia, "did you.. know about this?"

all eyes turned to alessia who felt the weight of their stares pressing down on her, as she swallowed hard glancing briefly at harrison before nodding.

"i gave him the tickets," she admitted, "for lovie but i didn't tell anyone cause i didn't want to ruin the day for anyone."

"ruin today?" gio repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief at his sisters actions, "you ruined today the moment you gave him the tickets."

"you think i wanted to ruin today? i'm not here for you?" harrison snapped rising to his feet, his voice was low but sharp, his frame tense as he squared up to gio. "i'm here for my daughter!"

gio stepped forward too, his expression thunderous. "you don't get to act like the hero after disappearing for years. showing up doesn't erase what you did!"

"i never said it did!" harrison's voice rose again, his frustration starting to bubble over. taking another step forward towards gio, his chest puffed out. "but i'm not going to stand here and let you talk to me like i don't care about her. i'm trying to be better-"

"better?" luca barked out a harsh laugh as gio joined in before looking back at harrison with the same thunderous glare.

"alessia doesn't need you, y/n doesn't need you. you don't belong here, mate."

"that's not your call!" harrison shot back, his voice dangerously loud now. he took another step closer his fists clenched at his sides.

"gio stop!" alessia's voice rang out as she begged the two to stop, even now luca was trying to get gio to back down as he reached out to grab his shoulder but it was just shrugged off by the younger russo brother.

"you don't get to decide what's best for her," harrison continued, his voice trembling with restrained anger. "she's my daughter"

"don't you dare say that word like it means something to you." gio hissed stepping closer to harrison, his voice venomous. "you're nothing but a selfish coward who runs away when things get tough!"

harrison's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides, "say that again," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

"i said, you're a coward," gio spat, his eyes blazing as he stowed even closer.

the words barely hung in the air before gio swung, his knuckles catching harrison square on the cheekbone which would definitely turn blue by the morning.

harrison staggering back as his expression snapped from shock to fury in a instant. and without hesitation he lunged forward his first slamming into gio's jaw with a satisfying crack.

"you want to say that again?" harrison snarled, his chest heaving as gio was the one to stumbled this time.

gio wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring daggers at harrison. "you think that scares me?" he hissed already moving towards him again.

"enough!" mario barked from across the room, but neither of them seemed to hear.

luca rushed forward, shoving harrison back hard enough to create some space, "seriously knock it off!

alessia took the chance to dart herself between them, he hands trembling as she pushed against harrison's chest. "stop it! both of you!" she pleaded, her voice breaking.

her plea was just loud enough to pierce through the tension, as harrison's fists slowly uncurled and gio rubbed his jaw breathing heavily as he halted st him.

alessia turned to her dad, her face flushed and tight with anger, "they're done," she said firmly, her voice trembling with finality as she glanced between them, "aren't you?"

gio muttered something under his breath turning away while harrison stood rigid. the fire in his eyes gradually dimming. but alessia didn't move, staying firmly in place until both men retreated.

"this isn't helping anyone, and i'm not letting, either of you turn this into a war zone-" alessia shouted her voice firm as both boys hands were red with fury and there faces right with frustration.

"i'm not trying to fight, i just want to be there for my daughter" harrison squeaked out his voice low and strained.

“you don't deserve to be here for her!" gio fired back, but alessia spun on him, her eyes blazing with fury.

"gio! enough!" she snapped. "you don't get to decide that. i do. and i've made my decision."

"less-," gio started, but alessia cut him off with a glare.

"no, gio." she said fiercely. "this isn't about you and what you think. this is about lovie. and right now she's down the hallway terrified because of you two"

the silence that followed from alessia's words was deafening and her words must have hit a soft spot as both boys retreated form where they were, moving to be at the side of the room as alessia stayed stood in the middle of the chaos.

"less, we're just trying to look out for you," luca began his voice was calm as he tried to justify his and his brothers actions. "you know we're only trying to protect you and tiny-,"

"protect me?" alessia spun around, her voice sharp and trembling with emotion as her eyes blazed as she stared down her brother. "you think this is protecting me? scaring my daughter? making her cry? how is that helping anyone?"

"less, come on," luca interjected, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "we didn't mean for it to get like this. we just don't trust him, and—"

"and that gives you the right to pick a fight in front of her?" alessia cut him off, her voice rising, her hands clenched at her sides. "she's four, luca! she doesn't understand why her uncles are yelling at her dad. do you have any idea what this is going to do to her?"

"alessia—" gio tried, but she held up a hand, silencing him.

"no, gio. you've done enough damage." she snapped, "all you've done is make everything worse!"

both russo brothers looked visibly chastened, their gazes dropping to the floor. carol stepped forward, her face pale. "alessia, sweetheart, maybe we should all take a moment to cool off—"

"i don't have a moment," alessia said, her voice breaking slightly. "my daughter is crying in the hallway because of all this. i need to go sort out the mess, they've made."

without waiting for a response having heard enough from them, alessia turned on her heel and left the room, her chest heaving as she tried to collect herself.

—

alessia finally found leah after having to take a few minutes herself to let out a shaky sigh. leah was sitting on a bench near the locker room. you cradled in her lap.

your face buried in leah's neck, as your body still trembled slightly from time to time as small hiccups left you. leah's hand rubbing gentle circles on your back as she whispered low and soothing reassurances.

"hey" alessia said softly as she approached the two, her heart breaking at the sight of you being so upset. her body filling with so much mum guilt.

leah glanced up, her expression a mixture of concern and lingering frustration as she shifted you slightly so that alessia could take over. "she's a bit shaken up," leah murmured standing as alessia crouched in front of the two of them.

"thank you" alessia said quietly, her voice filled with genuine emotion as leah nodded lingering for a moment before stepping back to give some space.

"lovie, baby" your mummy whispered, reaching out so gently to stoke the hair out your face as your were sat curled up with your knees to your chest. "it's okay, mummy's here now."

you sniffed, finally lifting your head up out of your knees to look at your mum. your face was red and tear-streaked as your lips trembled. "why was uncle gio and luca so mad at daddy?" you asked so innocently, your voice a little raspy from crying.

alessia's chest tightened, pulling you into her arms holding you tightly as the two of you sat on the floor. alessia's back hitting the bench behind her.

"oh my love" she murmured. "sometimes grown-ups say things they shouldn't when they are upset. but that doesn't mean they don't love you, okay? uncle luca and gio love you very much. they just.. got carried away and shouldn't have acted like that, especially when you were there."

you rubbed your eyes with your fists, your voice trembling as you asked, "am i not going to see daddy again?"

the question hit alessia like a punch to the gut. she pulled back slightly, her hands gently cradling your face as she looked into your wide worried eyes.

"oh baby no," she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. "that's not going to happen, you'll be able to see your dad again, i promise."

"bu-but uncle gio said he shouldn't be here," you whispered, your tears starting to build up again, "d-does that mean he has to go away?"

alessia swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump in her throat that was building from your worries as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

"no, baby," your mummy assured you, "uncle gio only said that as he's worried about mummy, not because he doesn't want you to see your daddy. and daddy won't be going anywhere - you'll still get to spend time with him."

"really?" you asked, you voice trembling with hope.

"really" alessia promised as she pulled you into another hug, "you and your dad are creating a special bond and no one is going to take that away from you. not uncle luca, not uncle gio, not anyone."

your small arms tightened around alessia's neck, "i don't want you and daddy to fight" you murmured.

alessia's heart ached at the simple plea, "we aren't going to fight, my love." she said softly, "sometimes grown ups make mistakes, but i promise i'll do everything i can to make sure you don't see that again."

you nodded against your mummy's shoulder, you little fingers clutching the fabric of alessia's hoodie. "okay," you whispered.

leah, who had been standing a few steps away, finally stepped forward again, her expression tender, "hey angel" she said softly, crouching down next to alessia and your level.

"how about we go and get some ice cream? i think we all need a treat after today, huh?"

you lifted you head, your tears starting-streaked face slightly lighting up, "pink one with sprinkles?"

leah smiled, brushing a stray hair from your cheek, "the biggest pink one with loads of sprinkles, as many as you want!"

alessia pressed a kiss to your temple, grateful for leah's presence in that moment. "what do you think, baby? wanna go get some ice cream with lele and mummy?"

you nodded, a faint smile creeping onto your face. alessia stood, holding you close as leah placed a comforting hand on alessia's back.

as they started to pack away there belongings from the changing room, everyone else left seamlessly a good hour ago. a quick redo of your hair and the three of you were ready to go.

as they walked out from the changing room, alessia whispered softly to you, "everything's going to be okay, lovie. i promise."

the three of you only a mere metre from the exit, alessia with her backpack slung on her shoulder and your little one which had left with you this morning when harrison came to get you in her hand as you held the other tightly.

leah chatting and lightening the mood by asking you about your imaginative ice cream order. small gasps and giggles leaving leah's lips.

"can you take lovie?" alessia asked as you held tightly onto your mummy's hand, leah nodding her brow furrowing as to why though. "i'll meet you at my car in five, i have one more thing i have to do before ice cream time!"

alessia's head nodded towards the room where her brother's and harrison were still in, stood in silence mainly giving each other dirty looks. leah nodded smiling as she began to walk out the exit door, continuing to ask you what flavour ice cream you were going to get on this big ice cream you'd made up.

walking into the room the tension was thick — heavier than any moment alessia had ever witnessed between her family and harrison.

it felt like the room was on edge of something much worse than what had already happened. the harsh words, the mistrust, the frustration.

stood looking between the her brothers as gio rested an ice pack on his jaw while harrison rested one on his cheek — the swelling on both of them starting to show slightly.

alessia's arms crossed tightly over her chest, her face a mask of calm resolve but the storm brewing inside her was undeniable.

her brothers stood across from harrison their expressions full of disdain ready for another attack. as for harrison, for his part was still stiff and defensive, clearly feeling the weight of alessia's family's anger but trying to hold his ground.

her gaze locked firmly on her brothers and harrison, as gio opened his mouth to say something, maybe apologise or maybe to carry on the screaming match but you'd never know as before he even had a chance alessia cut him off.

"zip it, you've said quite enough today," she said, her tone sharp and unwavering, "and that goes for all three of you" she added pointing to the three boys before turning her gaze to her brothers.

"you two have crossed the line today. so i'll make it clear, again. in my life, my daughter or my choices are mine to decide — neither of you get to tell me how to handle it. especially when it comes to my daughter."

luca opened his mouth to argue but alessia raised her hand stopping him dead in his tracks, "shut it." she said her voice a low growl that sent a clear message.

"i don't want to hear another peep. not from you, not from you" she pointed to gio who was about to say something too, "or from you" pointing over at harrison.

the room fell healthy silent all them staring at her stunned in disbelief. alessia took a slow, steady breath collecting her thoughts for a moment.

"i get it," she said her voice now steady but there was a fire in her eyes that couldn't be ignored. "you're angry. you're protective. you're all trying to act like the hero and protect me and love. but trust me, i don't need any of you trying to believe you know what's best for me. i've been doing this on my own and i'll continue it that way. and that includes harrison — whether you two like it or not."

she looked directly at harrison, then back to her brothers her eyes fierce with strength she'd been holding back all this time. "i can make my own choices on who's in my daughters life. and if i decide harrison deserves a chance then that's my decision. not yours."

gio's fists clenched as he moved his head as if he were about to say something else but alessia was already ahead of him, again.

"don't you dare," she warned him, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. "don't you even think about interrupting me."

her brothers stood there, tight lipped, completely taken aback by the intensity in alessia's voice and the authority in her words.

harrison meanwhile, stood still, ice pack still held to h the side of his face, unsure of what to say, but realised the trust of it all. this wasn't the time for his defence — he had to let alessia take charge.

alessia stepped back, giving them all one last piercing look, "i'm done here. so if you have a scuffle you want to continue, then do it once me, my daughter and my girlfriend are out this building. do not ever bring that type of behaviour around my daughter again, or you'll live to regret it."

the finality in her words echoed through the room. without another word, alessia turned on her heel. her heart pouring as she walked toward the door, he back straight and shoulders square.

she didn't wait for anyone's reaction - this was her moment and she wasn't backing down to any of them. they all had a lot of grovelling to do.

as she reached for the door, she glanced over her shoulder one last time, "bye!" she said coldly, her voice unwavering. "i'll be with my family, where i belong. don't try and talk to me until you've figure out how to respect my choices."

the silence that followed her leaving the room was deafening. luca, gio and harrison all left standing there, two with ice packs held to their faces as the weight of the blondes words sunk in. 

but alessia wasn't looking back anymore, she was done trying to explain and make them see things her way. she had made her choice — you, leah and herself came first.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Devout

Guardian Angel alternative POV, or Jason Todd is the Arkham Knight, and he can't stop himself from watching you, from clawing his way into the cracks of your life in a twisted, mangled mirror of what he used to be ~3.5k words

CW: Jason commits a few murders, some gore, stalking, some religious imagery for fun

Jason Todd shouldn't be watching you. He knows it's wrong, knows he shouldn't be perched on the shadowy rooftop across from your apartment building, staring intently into your windows.

He knows. He knows. But he's doing it anyway– been doing it for weeks.

You haven't noticed once, so wrapped up in your own life, your peace of mind that no one would break the sanctity of your own home that you don't even consider closing your blinds.

He thinks you should know better. Gotham is tainted– he is tainted– yet you never spare a glance over your shoulder when he follows you down the street, never linger on that sixth sense that screams that you're being watched.

You pick up on his presence on the rare occasion, he thinks. The days you walk home quicker or the nights you actually slam your blinds shut makes him wonder if you do know you're being watched. But then you go back to normal, brush off every sign and every lingering feeling that something isn't right.

It almost makes him angry, sometimes, that you'd be so careless with your safety. But everything makes him angry now. It's a constant, tight grasp in his chest, the righteous fury he has against the world, against the city and its filth, against Batman.

The anger makes him reckless, or maybe he's just cocky. Maybe he wants you to know he's there. Jason doesn't let himself wonder why he does it. He might just be a masochist. He might just miss you. But he opens the faulty window to your living room that he knows squeaks and never quite locks right.

The first time he breaks into– visits your apartment while you're asleep, he doesn't touch a thing. He just takes in everything that's you, cleanses his fractured soul in the space he used to know like the back of his hand. The trinkets that sit on your counters. The paintings on the wall. The color of the blankets thrown over your couch.

He doesn't touch anything the second time, either. Or the third. The fourth time, though, he picks over the photos you keep on your shelves, the books you leave lying around. He moves them, just slightly. Just to see if you'll notice.

You don't. Not really. Not until the eighth time. He doesn't know why he does this either. He just does. He picks up your keys from where you usually keep them and moves them. It's something you can't deny. Something tangible and real and clear, an unyielding truth. He was here. He exists, and he can affect your life, change it with his hands.

(It's the first time he feels like he's truly alive since the asylum, the first time there's more than just revenge and watching you from afar, even if he feels like he's corrupting something that's only meant to be seen and not touched by impure, broken hands)

If your keys being displaced affects you, well, you don't show it for more than a few moments. And that bothers him. You might not know he's here– alive– and maybe he's not ready for you to, but he's still a part of your life, isn't he?

So he gets bolder. He doesn't want to scare you, not really. But he can't help but dig his nails into the parts of your life he can change. It starts simple, innocent. You were annoyed when you left your kitchen, out of sugar, just another thing on top of everything else you have to deal with.

And he wanted to help. Like he used to. It was easy to get a bag of sugar, even easier to sneak into your kitchen. He leaves just enough for a few days, just enough to get you through the week, enough that you'll think you misremembered how much was left.

And he should have left it at that. But he's never been good at doing things halfway, especially when it comes to you. So he fixes your apartment up while you're at work. Makes sure your window doesn't squeak, your shower doesn't rattle, your oven actually heats up. All things he's heard you try to get your landlord to fix.

He makes a note to give your landlord a visit as he's looping the footage in your cameras over, effectively erasing any evidence of who he is.

Honestly, he's proud of you for finally doing something about him, it's just a shame he has the skills to outmatch your attempts to figure out his identity. Not that any pictures of him would do any good. He's still nameless in Gotham as the Arkham Knight, and if he's not wearing a mask while he's easily picking the new lock on your apartment window, his hood and ballcap do the job of hiding his face just as well.

He thinks he could let it go on like this forever, just doing things for you in the shadows, never revealing himself. At least until he's routinely following you home from work one night, and he sees you get tugged into a dark, lonely alley. He recognizes the man that hauls you off the faux safety of the streets, the one that's lifting a shaky hand and a gun to wave it, demanding your possessions.

Murphy is a nobody in Gotham, just another gambling addicted alcoholic that takes work from whatever rouge is paying the most that week. Jason more or less only recognizes him because he lives on the third floor of your apartment building, but it's clear you don't know who the man snatching your things is.

The Arkham Knight resigns himself to stealing your wallet and phone back after you've gotten home, to keep himself out of your sights for as long as he can. That was the plan.

But there's a flicker in Murphy's eyes, a consideration– a passing thought that Jason can't ignore, one he's seen a million times. Maybe it's the idea that he could get more from you, or maybe he's realizing you've seen his face and wants to get rid of any witnesses, whatever it is, Jason isn't going to let it happen.

The Arkham Knight doesn't hesitate to drop himself between you and the gun. He breaks Murphy's arm without even thinking about it, effectively disarming him as he kicks the gun away from him. The sound of his bones breaking is loud, but Jason doesn't register it as something to be sickened by until he turns and sees the nausea and horror written plainly on your face.

Honestly, maybe he should be more disgusted with himself. He's just sent a man into shock, revealed himself to you in a way that's not at all comforting. But he doesn't care. No one was going to save you. No one but him. He protected you, and it's not like Bruce Batman– it's not like broken bones are uncommon in Gotham.

You take a step back. He steps towards you, drawn to you. He can't help it. He shouldn't. But his head is spinning, and he hasn't been this close to you since before the asylum. You look tired, older, but no less beautiful than he remembers.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap at him.

Jason wants to praise you for your bravery, as fake as it is. It's a good tactic, to try and get him talking. He doesn't understand why you look so uneasy of him, though. He got you out of a bad situation, even if he's wearing military-grade armor and a mask that glows in the darkness of the alley, shouldn't you feel grateful? Safe? Happy?

He tilts his head, trying to read you. Would you feel better if he offered to walk you home? "I saved you," he tries, the modulator making his voice sound flatter than he intends to. The Arkham Knight silently curses himself. He should just leave. Should have shot your attacker from the roof without you ever seeing him. He's being emotional now, irrational under your gaze.

"You've been following me. You're the one who's been in my apartment," you accuse, eyes darting like you're trying to find an escape in the dead end alley.

He stiffens. Huh. Clever thing. You've always been too smart for your own good. A part of him wants to deny it, pretend he's just some passing good doer in a mask, pretend that he's some kind of knight, an angel here to shield you from harm.

The notion almost makes him laugh, "Have I," he prompts instead with all the air nonchalance. He wonders if you'll drop it then, actually thank him for stepping in and helping you. You don't.

"Yes," You say instead, voice low like it's a secret– a confession, "You have."

Jason finds himself impressed at your stubbornness, if not a little unnerved by your recklessness in confronting the supposed stranger you believe is breaking into your home alone. He has to give you credit for piecing it together, but who else, if not a freak in body armor, would be letting themselves into your apartment without a word just to fix what's broken?

He nods, unsure of what to do. You weren't supposed to figure it out, but you have. And now there's consequences.

The Arkham Knight turns his back to you, making a show of gathering your phone and wallet before standing and facing you again. He walks closer to you, each step measured and calculated. He holds your belongings out to you, a twisted, mirrored version of some kind of sacred offering.

He studies you as you grab at them, trying to tug them from his unyielding grip. There's bags under your eyes. He can practically see your pulse jumping under your skin.

You're less than a foot away, and Jason basks in that distance, how light he feels now that you're only an arm's reach away. He could brush his knuckles over your cheek, dip his head to take in the scent of your hair, kiss the hollow of your throat the same way he used to.

He does none of those things. Because you don't see Jason Todd. You only see a threat, a monster, some kind of demon that clawed their way out of the shadows and cracks that litter Gothams hallowed corners.

He cocks his head, letting go of your wallet and phone while greedily drinking down the color of your eyes in the dim light of the alley, "And if I have?"

"I'll go to the police," You tell him, defensive, and he wants to laugh as you shove your wallet and phone back into your pocket.

"They can't help you," he grits out, and it's the truth. No one knows who he is yet, what his plans are. Even if you told someone, whatever description you give won't be enough to find him.

"They can contact Batman," you bite out, and that does earn you a laugh. You really think Bruce can do anything? That Batman has any chance of standing between him and you? Batman couldn't even find– couldn't even save–

"He can't help you either," The Arkham Knight tells you. He gives into his desire to touch you then, partly in anger that you still believe in Batman and partly because he just misses you. He pats your cheek, but doesn't let himself linger. "Get home," is all he says before he grapples into the night.

He follows you back to your apartment from the rooftops and notes how you avoid getting too close to any more alleys. But, it's not until you're safe in your bed that he goes looking for Murphy– that he goes to finish the job.

The creep's nursing his broken arm in his dingy apartment when The Arkham Knight gets to him. He doesn't make it quick, but it is quiet. (It's difficult to scream when you're choking on your own severed tongue, after all) He brings down fire and fury and vengeance for daring to lay a hand on you and leaves nothing behind but a corpse.

Murphy's brutal death is swept under the rug by the GCPD, which Jason shouldn't be surprised by. Just another mob death, the tiny obituary in the paper reports. You don't even register the death in your apartment building. He doesn't blame you for that. Not when he knows he's scaring you.

He's getting careless, sloppy. He wants you to catch glimpses of him now, he wants you to know he's watching. It's sick. He knows that, knows it so well that it claws in the back of his throat when he breaks into your apartment to fix your fan.

He's guilty about it, sometimes. It's a pressing weight on his shoulder even when he's trying to help. So, he redoubles his efforts.

He sneaks into your room and stuffs six hundred dollars into the emergency fund you keep under your bed. He sends you flowers, fills your gas tank, finally visits your landlord, and pays off your rent for the next six months. (He's already bought you a better, newer apartment, he just hasn't figured out how to tell you that)

He knows it's all wrong, but sometimes, he doesn't feel guilty at all. He wants to do things for you, that's not a lie. He wants to do everything and anything you could ever want or ask for.

He starts letting you catch flashes of him outside your window, moves your things around just out of the sheer curiosity of what you'll do. He can't justify that, because it does nothing to protect you. But he does it anyway. The Arkham Knight needs you to know he holds a spot in your life, even if it's not as Jason Todd anymore.

He's getting bolder, much too comfortable. There's times you almost walk into your apartment as he's leaving gifts on your counter, times when you wake up and walk into your kitchen just seconds after he forces himself out your window.

He's going to get caught if it keeps going on like this. But he can't bring himself to worry or care. His plans are coming together, and while he doesn't exactly know where you fit into them yet, he knows he doesn't trust anything or anyone enough to leave you to your own devices once he unleashes his legions upon Gotham and her failure of a saviour.

He never seems to do the right thing when it comes to you, at least not since he came back. But saving you– guarding you against the vile filth of the world– that can't be wrong. He'd do anything to keep you as you are, untouched by all the cruelties Gotham has to offer. It's an unwavering, righteous mission he has commanded unto himself.

It's why he reacts the way he does when three men break into your apartment.

He was late. He always seems to be late when you're involved. He had just finished overseeing the arrival of tanks and men into Miagani Tunnel, just dragged himself halfway across the city for the slightest chance to catch a glimpse of you in your apartment, when he catches sight of it.

Your window– open. You never keep it open. Dread washes down his spine, and when he gets close enough to see the man pointing a gun towards the floor– towards you– he just reacts.

He shuts down, becomes nothing but instinct, and he brings hell on to Earth in your name.

He's clinical. He doesn't hesitate to shoot the man aiming a gun to your head through his temple. If the man were alone, he would have shot the gun out of his hand, but there's two other targets, and he needs to eliminate any threats to your life first.

He climbs through your window with the ease of a man who's done it hundreds– thousands of times. You haven't moved to get up. It concerns him, but he's angry right now, so, so angry he doesn't even consider ending this quickly.

Everyone tries to take something from him. He keeps losing. If he didn't come to watch– see you tonight, he would have lost you too. The very thought makes his vision blur red, his ears ring.

It's not a fight, what happens next. It's a death penalty. The Arkham Knight is a weapon, and he proves it with each hit. He's efficient, brutal, and purposeful with each movement. He doesn't flinch at the blood that splatters on his armor, doesn't stop even when fluids and flesh start to stick to the knuckles of his gloves.

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, until the only hearts left beating in your desecrated apartment are his and yours.

Then, and only then, does the blood pounding through his veins start to cool. It's only then, does he turn to look at you. He expects to meet your terrified gaze, but you haven't moved, still laying on the floor. It makes his heart clench. What's wrong with him? He just– while you–

He shakes his head, slowly tugging his gloves off and stuffing them into his belt. He walks over to you, kneels carefully to your side, and watches you breathe. He matches the slow rhythm of your shoulders rising and falling, and then he helps you sit up.

You're responsive to that, at least. The Arkham Knight presses his hands to your face, waiting for something. He doesn't know what, just anything. Some kind of sign. A message of what he's supposed to do. How he can make this all better.

When you finally open your eyes, they're hazy, not quite reactive. It makes him angry all over again. You got hurt. He wasn't here.

"Saved me again," you murmur, and his throat tightens. He failed you. Yet here you are, spouting words that make it sound like he's done something good.

He runs his thumb over your cheek, savoring the feel of your skin, soothing himself and you as he reassures himself that you're still here– still alive. But you aren't safe.

It's all he can think about. He saved you, but how long until you're in danger again? What if he's not quick enough this time? What if he's not there? What if– what if– haunts him. It weighs heavier than the nightmares that plague him when he finally has to succumb to sleep.

He makes the decision then and there to take you away from here, away from the rot and the fester to some place where it can never touch you again.

He picks you up, cradles you to his chest like you're made of shattered, stained glass and tarnishing silver, but nonetheless precious. You're talking, and he's answering, but he hardly registers what either of you are saying. His mind is working over plans, where he's going to take you, the guards he'll need to recruit to watch over you when he can't, which ones he trusts the most.

Jason only tunes back in when you point out that he could hurt you. It's funny, in a way. After everything he used to be to you, after everything he's done for you, he could still hurt you. He tips his head down to really look at you, the cloudy, exhausted look on your face, the heaviness of your eyes as you struggle to keep watching him.

He can't find it in himself to lie, so, he tells you, maybe he could hurt you. He tells you that he wouldn't like it. (And it's the truth)

Maybe you recognize that, because you drop your head to his shoulder and let your eyes fall shut. The Arkham Knight never wavers in his steps, mapping the path to the apartment he'd purchased in your name in his head. It's not perfect, not filled with everything you deserve quite yet, but it'll do the job for now.

Something in him simultaneously softens and hardens when your breathing goes even and slow against him, and he curls his fingers tighter into your skin. You're weak. Weaker than him. Too naive and too soft for what's going to come.

There's no other fate for you than this now. He'll have to take care of you, protect you from it all, from all the evil that festers in Gotham, even if that includes him.

He lets the mission engrave itself into his heart– into the fabric of his very soul and right next to his revenge. You're going to be safe. He is going to keep you safe, and he'll throw himself into fire to see it done.

[13uswntimagines]

All In My Head (Alessia Russo X Singer!r)

Part III of the Safe Harbor Universe. Find other parts here

Summary: Being Sick on tour sucks, but that doesn't mean that you want your team to inform your girlfriend. She has her own career to think about. The problem is that honesty is rule number 1 in your relationship.

Warnings: there is mention of a D/s dynamic, but nothing is super explicit. Alessia is referred to as daddy.

Authors note: Yes the ending is a cliffhanger. But this has honestly been in my drafts since like August, so i wanted to put it out. I'm considering a Pt. 2, but it will depend on if people want it. I really hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the stadium's cool stone wall and twisting the bracelet around your wrist. 

Which stadium, you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, really. They all looked the same after a while anyway, blurring together in the never-ending cycle of rehearsals, performances, interviews, and meet and greets. 

All your life seemed to be was performing and promoting music you weren’t even excited about anymore. It was a nonstop grind filled with late nights and early mornings, with almost no time for your well-being. 

You almost wished your girlfriend had implemented a rule that placed a limit on how much you could do. At least that would give you the power to say no. 

You did your best. 

You squeezed in as many phone calls with your girlfriend, Alessia as you could, but she had her own commitments with the Lionesses as they prepared to defend their European championship.

Most of the time you ended up passing out over FaceTime, and waking up to texts telling you she loved you. 

You understood. You both had careers and obligations. You both had to make sacrifices to get to do the things you loved. 

It was… intense, but for the most part, you enjoyed it. You loved playing for the fans. You would deal with all the promotional bs just so you could interact with the people who loved your music as much as possible. 

They deserved that. 

And this tour had been going far better than the ones you had been on before it. You were holding it all together far better than you had in the past. 

Or it had been. 

It all started with a slight tickle in your throat in the city before last. A whisper of huskiness that went away with a nice steam session and some tea. 

It was easy to ignore in the beginning. 

Then you played 4 shows back to back last weekend. 

By the end of the 3rd show, you knew you were screwed, you could barely muster a horse whisper. Alessia had commented that you sounded like a chain smoker, your first sign that she was seeing through you, but you assured her you would be fine. You even joked that you had enough throat coat and grether's pastilles to turn her off for a year. She let you soothe her worries. 

You pushed on, powered my menthol lozenges and Honey, and you made it through the 4th show. 

It would have been fine. It shouldn’t have mattered that your ability to make any sound at all was hanging on by a thread. The 5 days off you had should have been enough to set everything right.

Except you didn’t have 5 days off. 

It was filled with promotional performances for a new album and interviews about how well it would accompany the movie it was attached to. If someone else asked you about how it felt about the possibility of an Oscar nod, you were going to scream. Or rip all of your hair out or both.

The tickle had turned to hot nails, and nothing - not the steam machine or tea and honey - had the power to soothe it. 

You sounded like you were talking through gravel, and your team had been hesitant to even let you go on tonight. 

Alessia definitely would not have, if she knew how bad it really was. You started avoiding her two days ago after you couldn’t make it through a sentence without a crack, and you couldn’t continue to blame the low whistle that accompanied every one of your breaths on allergies. 

You knew going in that performing tonight wasn’t a great idea, but you refused to let the fans down. There were only 4 shows left. Surely you could make it. 

The entire show felt like a battle. 

You had to fight for every note. For every breath. 

Your lungs felt like they were on fire and your throat was raw before you even got to the piano set. 

It took everything in you to hide the thinness in your voice. To prevent every sound from cracking as you forced each lyric out. 

It was…rough to say the least. 

But you made it- even if it was only by the skin of your teeth. 

You were shot by the time you did your final bow and disappeared backstage. You ignored the cold Gatorade being pressed into your palms, knowing it would only aggravate the glass shards in your throat, and shrugged off Steven and Clint. 

You didn’t need their concern, you needed to escape the roaring in your ears. The pounding in your chest. 

So you took turn after turn until you were in an abandoned section of hallways. 

You sighed, grasping at your throat as you slid down the cool wall, pulling your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead into the rough material of your costume to drown out the pounding in your head. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head and you groaned. 

The sound felt like hot coals in your throat, and it made your chest ache. 

You feared that no amount of steam, or tea, or pastilles would stop it this time. 

The cold bricks of the stadium felt nice against your skin, leaching the heat from your body, though it did nothing to help the fire in your chest. 

A fire that was quickly moving past the gray areas in your agreement with Alessia, and into a place that your daddy would definitely have something to say about. 

You were treating your limits with her like a tightrope, carefully toeing the edge. Except with the way you felt, you knew you were about to topple one way or the other. 

You ignored the sounds of clicking shoes coming closer, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t see you. That they would leave you be to pull the cracked pieces of yourself back together. 

But your team knew better than to leave you to your own devices.

“Y/n?”

You tensed at the soft hand on your shoulders, and the sound of shifting clothing as someone settled on the ground beside you. 

“You ok, kid?” Natasha asked softly, running soothing circles on the top of your shoulders. 

You let out another breath before you pulled your face from its hiding spot, resting your chin on your knees. “I’m ok. Just wanted some quiet,”

You frowned at the horse whisper that left your lips, and the flair of pain that accompanied it. 

Natasha hummed. 

She had been part of your team from the beginning, back when you were a dumb 16-year-old, long before Pepper, Tony, Steve and the rest of the crew had joined, and she knew you nearly as well as Alessia did. 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Just some quiet?” 

You knew that wasn’t what she was actually asking. 

The question went much deeper. 

She knew about your… dynamic with Alessia, and she had seen the striker take care of you in various ways. She was asking you what you needed. 

You nodded, looking away from her, afraid that she would see through you. 

“I needed a minute,” You said, your voice barely a squeak. “It was all too much, and I wanted to be alone before I got pulled into something else,”

She made a low sound at the familiar explanation. “And this has nothing to do with how you sound like you’re gargling rocks?”

You grimaced. “Nothing at all,”

She hummed. “So you’re not in any pain at all?”

“Nope,” You breathed out, the p the only clear part of the word. 

“Y/n,” She sighed. “I know you have an… aversion to admitting when you’re not… at the top of your game, but pushing yourself isn’t going to help anything. You don’t have anything to prove here,”

You ran a hand through your hair and rolled your eyes dramatically at her. She chuckled at the action. 

“There are only 3 more shows,” You said. “I can make it 3 more shows,”

“And how would Alessia feel if she knew you were going to put your comfort aside for 3 more shows?” Natasha asked softly. “And not just your comfort, your health. You sound like shit,”

You huffed at the mention of your girlfriend, your fingers instinctively finding the braided bracelet that never left your wrist. 

You knew how she would feel. You could practically hear what she would say. I expect you to take care of the things that belong to me. I expect you to treat them with respect and give them the love and care they deserve. 

“I’ve got it all under control,” You rasped, wincing at the action. 

It was Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Sure you do. Since you have it all under control, you’ll stop ignoring your girlfriend,” She pulled the device out of her back pocket and balanced it on top of your knees. “She’s been blowing up your phone all day. I think she’s worried,” 

You stared at the phone, and as if on cue, it buzzed again with a new message. 

Alessia was going to be furious with you, and your daddy would be on another level entirely. 

She was usually the one to take the reigns when you were set on driving yourself into oblivion for the benefit of everyone else. But she wasn’t here. 

You sighed heavily. 

You knew that if you told her, she would drop everything. She would move heaven and earth if that was what you needed. 

You didn’t want that. 

She needed to focus on her game, and that meant that you couldn’t be a distraction. You would not disappoint her. Not when you were so close to finishing. 

“She needs to focus,” You mumbled, your voice straining. “She’s gotta impress Sarina to make the team. It’s important,”

“I think you forget that you are also important,” Natasha argued back softly, patting your back before carefully pushing herself to her feet. “I’m going to have Pepper cancel the meet and greet. You’re in no shape to meet fans. I should also have her call a doctor, but I already know you’ll fight me on it,” 

You frowned. You never sold meet and greet tickets, choosing to instead have your team select fans at each show. 

“But-“ 

She held up her hand before you could argue. “That isn’t up for debate. Get rest tonight, and we’ll assess tomorrow in the morning.”

Your jaw clenched, but you nodded, knowing there was no arguing with her. 

“I know the world thinks you’re superhuman, but it’s ok not to be indestructible,” She said, softly. “You need to remember to be Clarke Kent sometimes too. There’s a reason Lois fell in love with him first,”

With that, she walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

The silence of the empty hallway wasn’t as welcoming as it had been. It didn’t quiet your thoughts like it had. 

Instead, it felt suffocating. Like the walls were closing in on you, trapping you in your misery. 

You sighed another painful breath, before you grabbed your phone, reading the top notification, longing not to feel so…alone. 

Hey babe, caught the end of your show on a random livestream. Are we still on for our FaceTime tonight?

You let your head fall back, thumping the wall. 

Everything in you longed to say yes.

But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. 

It was still nice to fantasize about seeing her. About hearing her say ‘Hello my little one,’ with a soft smile that brought out her dimples. If you closed your eyes you could almost feel the pressure of her fingers on the back of your neck, running through the baby hairs that lived there. ‘I’m here, and I’ve got you,’

You let your mind linger there for a long second before you forced your eyes back open. 

It took you three tries to type out your reply: sorry darling, I’m super tired. Rain check?

And you paused, your trembling finger over the send button, knowing you shouldn’t send it, but hitting the little blue arrow anyway. 

It was awful but necessary. 

You let out another long, ragged breath before you forced yourself to your feet and shoved your phone into your pocket, so you didn’t have to see her reply. You leaned heavily on the wall, no longer enjoying how it sucked the warmth from your skin, but using it to stay upright as the entire hallway tilted to the side. 

You should go back to your dressing room before Steve sent out a search party. Dealing with Nat was one thing, dealing with the overprotective instincts of Steve, Clint, and Thor was another. 

You didn’t have the mental capacity for that, and maybe your dressing room couldn’t make you feel like there was a rope on your lungs, dragging out your soul.

*****

You were not particular about a lot of things when you were on tour. You didn’t care about the size of your hotel room or the cars you were shuttled around in. You didn’t request overly expensive foods or special bubbly waters. 

The only thing on your rider that you were very specific about was your dressing room. 

It was your sanctuary away from the noise. A place you would spend more time in than your hotel room. 

It was important to you that it was always the same. Lit with twinkling fairy lights, the comfy gray couch that followed you on every tour stop standing near the table with your kettle and vocal steamer, and a diffuser already filling the room with the soft scent of lavender and honey. 

It filled your lungs the second you stepped through the door, wiping away the burning ache that accompanied every breath for just a second. Reminding you for one fleeting moment of the honeysuckle of Alessia’s favorite shampoo (the reason she picked the essential oil blend to begin with), before the knives returned to your chest. 

You rubbed your knuckles over your sternum to quell the feeling, stumbling over to the couch and collapsing into it. 

You pressed your nose into the soft gray material, wishing that you had grabbed the bright red sweatshirt you stole from your girlfriend when you last saw her. The smell of her perfume was beginning to fade, but it wasn’t gone yet, and there was a distinct longing in your stomach to be close to her. Even if you were the reason there was any space to begin with. 

You could hear your kettle bubbling next to you, and you knew you should make yourself some tea to soothe the sharp edges in your windpipe, but the thought of moving felt like too much. 

Instead, you sunk into the couch, your arm dangling off the cushion, your fingers brushing the ugly red carpet. 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and you didn’t have to look to know who was texting you. Still, the urge to see what she would say was too great for you to ignore it. 

It took all of your strength to move your heavy arm to your pocket and pull out your phone. Your fingers fumbled over the screen as you squinted at the device with the eye not pressed into the couch. 

The light made the throbbing in your head worse, and the words written on the screen made your lungs constrict.

Ok, my love. Are you sure everything is alright? This is the 3rd time this week.

You could almost hear the worry in her voice. See the suspicion in her blue eyes. 

They never failed to see through you. To strip away your exterior and leave you vulnerable and raw beneath them. It never made you feel exposed, even in the beginning when the two of you decided to extend your dynamic beyond your bedroom. Instead, you felt seen and safe. 

Sometimes she liked to have to work for your submission. She liked to peel away each layer of you one by one until you were a trembling mess beneath her. Open and vulnerable in a way no one else ever got to see you. 

Other times, you gave your submission willingly, stripping off your public persona like a dirty shirt and allowing her to envelop you in her warm comfort. 

How much you wanted that. How much you needed it. 

It was a desperation that filled your entire being. 

Before you could process what you were doing, you had already pressed her contact photo and brought the now-ringing phone to your ear. 

You laid the device on the side of your head and let your arm go back to dangling. It was too heavy to hold. 

It only rang twice before her voice filled your ears. 

“Hey my love,” She said, worry and relief mingling strangely in her tone. “I’m so happy you called me. How are you?”

Her voice washed over you like a soothing wave, like a balm on the sharp edges of your nerves, though it did little to help the fire in your lungs and throat. 

You pressed your nose into the couch, pretending that it was her shoulder for just a second. That the honey and lavender surrounding you was her perfume. That she was here. 

“Y/n, are you there?” She asked, and you opened your mouth to respond, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 

You couldn’t force any sound, beyond a low whistle past your inflamed throat. Your lungs crackled with each breath. 

Your inability to make sound didn’t bother you as much as it should have. 

“Y/n? Did you butt-dial me?” Alessia asked again, and you could almost feel her running her nails through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “I’m worried,”

The words were said with too much force, not at all the soft murmur your brain had been waiting to hear. 

It shook you out of your haze just enough for you to reach up and grab your phone, clicking the decline button too fast. 

You let the phone drop to the floor with a low thump as it immediately began to ring again. 

Your fingers twitched above the screen, but you didn’t have the strength to reach for it, even as it lit up again with your girlfriend's contact photo. 

Well, it was a photo of the two of you. You were curled up in her lap, in one of her blue UNC sweatshirts that were too big, and she was kissing the side of your head. 

It had been taken after a particularly grueling day in the studio. It was Alessia’s turn to host team bonding night. You didn’t remember exactly who took the picture, Leah or Lotte, maybe, but it was one of your favorites.

What the camera didn’t catch was that your arms were not in the sleeves. Instead, they were tied with intricate knots behind your back, hidden by the sweatshirt. 

It was something the two of you often did, and it was one of her go-to's when you were starting to spiral out of control. 

A part of you longed for the feeling of the knots now, and her fingers twisting the soft rope against your skin. 

Sure, the weight of your bracelet was nice, but it wasn’t enough. 

You let out a wheezing breath that crackled and hurt. 

If you asked, she would be here. She would wrap you up and pull you from your free fall. 

It took you a long second to remember why you couldn’t have that. 

Alessia had a job to do, and you wouldn’t stand in the way of that. 

The phone buzzed again against the ugly carpet, the little voicemail icon flashing. You doubted you would be able to resist calling her back if you listened to it.  

Still, you had to do something. 

So you flicked the screen with one finger, going to your messages, and typing out words that felt fake, even to you. 

Sorry, I’m ok. Just tired. I’ll call you tomorrow after the game. Love you.

You clicked send before you could overthink it though, or your trembling fingers could betray you and type out the truth. You laid your head back down on the couch, curling into yourself as a painful cough forced its way past your lips. 

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, shivering before there was a soft knock at the door, and then the little click as it opened. 

A part of your brain hoped that it would be Alessia. That she had read your mind and somehow teleported to whatever city you were in. 

But the feeling of gentle fingers on the top of your shoulders told you that it wasn’t. 

“Y/n?” Natasha asked, very close to your ear, and you blinked up at her. 

You didn’t remember closing your eyes. 

“Hm?” You hummed, the sound raw and painful. 

“Let’s get you changed, and then we can go back to the hotel and you can sleep,” She said, placing a hand under your armpit and guiding you to a sitting position. 

The tiny movement had coughs ripping past your lips. 

She held you steady with one hand and grabbed you a change of clothes with the other. 

“Easy,” She breathed out, carefully unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it from your sweaty skin. 

She left you shirtless for a long second as she disappeared into your bathroom, and the cool air of the dressing room felt nice on your overheated skin. 

It didn’t bother you. Natasha had seen you in far less clothing than your sports bra and underwear. 

She returned only a moment later with a towel, using it to dry you off before she slipped a light blue t-shirt with a foot on the back over your head. 

The pants took a little more wiggling, but eventually, she was able to get you out of your costume and into a pair of sweats that were far too big for you.

She slid a pair of Converse onto your feet, scooping up your phone and tucking it into her pocket. 

“Let’s get you to the car,” She guided you to stand, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around you. 

“People?” You asked, leaning more of your weight onto her as she pulled you towards the door. 

You missed her eye roll. 

Of course, all you were worried about right now was who would see you, and what they would think. 

“Not here,” Natasha reassured you gently, opening the door. “Only when we get back to the hotel,”

You made a low, painful sound as she half-carried you into the hallway. 

You still had time before you had to pull yourself together. 

******

The city lights blurred into a distorted kaleidoscope of colors during the short ride back to the hotel. 

The cool glass felt nice against your temple, though it did little to ease the throb in your head or the lava in your throat. 

The feeling of eyes watching you for any wavering in your resolve also wouldn’t go away. You couldn’t be sure if it was worry (that you would puke all over the car or pass out), or concern about what the fans would think when you pulled up to the hotel. 

The whirring of the engine wasn’t loud enough to block out your racing thoughts, but any music was too much for you to handle. 

You were drowning. 

Every breath hurt, but you didn’t know if it was because of the physical pain or the anxiety gnawing at you. 

You didn’t like to upset people. You didn’t like to disappoint them. 

You were a people pleaser to a fault, and this wasn’t the first time you had self-destructed to meet everyone’s expectations. 

But at the end of the day, the person you wanted to please most. The person you wanted to not disappoint the most was Alessia. Was your Daddy. 

You knew you were failing, but you didn’t know how to stop.

The car came to a stop in front of the hotel far too quickly, and not for the first time, you were thankful that the dark tint kept you hidden from public view. 

“Ready, kid?” Steve asked, turning around in the driver's seat to look at you. 

You nodded once, reaching forward and grabbing the sunglasses facing the wrong way on his head, and pulled them over your own eyes. 

You took a deep breath before Clint opened your door, painting your signature smile across your features. 

You didn’t wave when you got out, too focused on keeping yourself upright, as Steve’sarm wrapped around you on one side and Natasha’s did the same on the other. 

You felt safe tucked between them, though they did nothing to shield you from shrill screams and cheers that met you as soon as your feet touched the ground. They amplified the pounding behind your eyes, and the way the crowd pressed around you made it even harder to breathe (not that you thought that was possible). 

You did try to flash the crowd smiles as Natasha and Steve guided you through, Clint protecting your back, and you were thankful your eyes were hidden, despite it being nighttime. 

You never wanted the fans to see the… fakeness. The lie.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the hotel doors slid closed behind you, placing more of your weight on Steve as Natash called the elevator. 

“You’re burning up kid,” Steve murmured, shifting to get a better grip around your waist. 

You made a low sound, that turned into a full body caught that nearly had you doubling over. “Is that your way of calling me hot Stevie? What would Tony think?”

The words came out garbled, cracking with every syllable as you tried to talk through the coughs. 

Steve’s arm tightened around you to keep you upright. 

“I think he would say that you are sick,” Steve sighed at the mention of his husband, your publicist, taking more of your weight as another round of coughs wracked you. 

You pushed off of him as soon as you could breathe again, even if it felt like sucking air through a straw filled with needles, and swayed your way toward the elevator. 

It binged open as soon as you reached it, and you stumbled inside, gripping the metal bar on the back wall for support, and resting your forehead on the cool wall. 

You could feel the heat of your skin leaching into the surface, but it did little to quell the pounding in your ears or the feeling like everything was tipping on its head. 

Your fingers instinctively found the braided bracelet, running over the soft leather strands. 

However, this time, it didn’t ease the bubbling anxiety and fire in your chest. 

“We’re almost there, and then you can rest,” Natasha said softly, and you felt both her and Steve’s eyes on you as you leaned further into the wall. 

The movement of the elevator was starting to make you nauseous, but you didn’t think you could voice that even if you wanted to. Not with how raw your throat was. 

It took you a second to realize the elevator had stopped, and it wasn’t until Natasha gently touched your shoulder that you began to move again. 

You let Steve guide you out of the elevator and into the hallway. 

Natasha had the door to your suite open before you even got there, and Steve half-carried you to the bed, settling you on the fluffy white comforter. 

Your fingers tangled in the expensive sheets as you fought to keep yourself upright. 

“Do you want to take a shower?” Natasha asked you softly, kneeling in front of you and carefully undoing your sneakers. 

You shook your head slowly, smothering another cough. “Sweatshirt,”

The croaky word hurt as it left your lips, barely audible and surrounded by more lung-crunching coughs. 

But they understood, Steve, passing you a bright red sweatshirt from your bag. 

You brought it to your face and collapsed back onto the bed, breathing in the perfume that clung to the material. 

It burned as it filled your senses, but you could pretend that it soothed the edges of glass in your throat and lungs. You could pretend that it was her taking off your shoes and tucking you in. 

You could pretend that it was all ok and that she wasn’t going to be livid when she found out. Not that you were sick, but that you hadn’t told her immediately. 

You knew you would take whatever punishment she decided you deserved with no questions. She could be rather creative when she was annoyed with you. 

“Let’s get you settled properly,” Natasha said, shifting you on the bed so your head was on the pillows, as Steve moved the covers and tucked them around you. “Rest now, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning,” 

You groaned, sending more flames down your airway, rolling over and pressing your face more firmly into the sweatshirt. 

You heard the distinctive sound of your phone being plugged in, and the click of the door. 

And then you were alone. 

More alone than you had been in a very long time. 

Even if it was all your own doing, you hadn’t been this disconnected since the beginning of Alessia’s college career, and your first tour with Taylor. The infamous break in your relationship. Even though neither of you had actually experimented with anyone else, and you had texted and called nonstop, you had been hesitant to push too far, to ask for too much. 

You blew out a long breath into her sweatshirt, ignoring the little needles that followed the air, eyes fixed on the phone on your bedside. 

It buzzed again as if it knew you were thinking about it. 

You reached your hand out, pulling it close so you could look at it, but it was still plugged in. 

The movement had the screen lighting up with a string of messages. The one at the top made your heart hurt.

Please don’t ignore me, my Little One. I’m worried.

It said, and you could almost hear the inflection in her tone. You could almost see her eyes softening, and feel her fingers brushing your hair behind your ear. 

You closed your eyes, pressing more deeply into the sweatshirt under your head. 

Your fantasy world was far nicer than the reality you were in, and the universe wouldn’t end if you stayed in it until morning. 

********

Your night was… hazy, filled with half-dreams that were increasingly difficult to distinguish from real life. As the morning light crept its way further and further across the ceiling, you leaned into the sweatshirt slowly losing its smell, one eye peeking out to track its progress. 

It felt like a timer. A countdown clock on the imagined feelings of soothing hands on your back and whispered reassurance that everything would be okay. 

Soon enough the door would open and you would have to be you again. You would have to pretend like each breath you took didn’t feel like a bear was mauling your lungs, and your brain wasn’t a freight train threatening to escape from your skull. 

You would have to deal with the incessant buzzing of your phone that had kept you on the edge of real sleep all night. 

You would have to face your girlfriend. Your daddy. 

You were not looking forward to it. Any of it. 

The only thing that you were semi-excited about was watching your girlfriend play, even through a screen. That had been your only saving grace back when she was in college before the two of you got back together, and you knew it would be your only saving grace now. 

You sighed, rolling over, the sweatshirt falling from its bunched-up place against your cheek, and reaching for the phone still on the corner of the bed next to you. 

It buzzed again as your fingers caught it, and brought it closer so you could see the screen. It was filled with notifications. 

Some were from the group thread you shared with your manager, assistant, and publicist. Some were emails from people you were collaborating with. 

But the majority were from Alessia. 

You couldn’t help but click on the thread. 

You knew it was a mistake immediately. 

Good morning little one. I’ll have some time if you want to FaceTime before the game. I miss you, and I’m worried. You don’t usually ignore me.

It was like an arrow straight through your heart. 

A direct hit to your will. 

You swallowed hard, ignoring how badly it burned, and typed out a message. 

I miss you too. Good luck today. You’re going to do amazing

You dropped your phone after you hit send, deciding that finding the starting 11 wasn’t important anymore, and stared up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, pulling the comforter more tightly around you despite the sweat breaking out across your chest. 

You thought it would help the hollow feeling slowly taking over your insides, or the dull throb that accompanied each breath. 

It did not. 

You let your eyes slide back closed, deciding that the light hadn’t transversed far enough across the ceiling for you to need to be awake yet. Not when the pull of sleep was so strong, and the comfort of your half dreams was too difficult to resist. 

“You know I don't like it when you hide from me,” Alessia’s voice said sternly, as though it was right next to your ear, and you felt fingertips graze your lips. 

You didn’t open your eyes. Even amongst the haze that was filling every crack in your brain, you knew she wasn't here. She couldn’t be here. Not when she was back in London about to play some team you couldn’t remember. 

“I know,” You rasped out.  

The fingers gently pulled at your bottom lip before they circled back towards your cheek, and a thumb brushed across your closed eyelid. 

“And you’re still doing it?” She asked, and you felt the air of each word on your ear. 

You shook your head, turning it slightly, hoping to feel her nose bump hers. “You need to focus on the important things,” 

You didn’t come into contact with her, though you knew you should have with the way you shifted. 

“And you are not important to me?” She asked her voice hardening in the way it only did when you were about to receive a punishment. 

An involuntary shiver ran down your spine, and your eyes opened automatically. 

You sucked in a painful breath, blinking blearily at the face above you.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Natasha said quietly, even as your eyes darted around, searching for your girlfriend. “It’s 1, so you need to wake up so we can make a decision about tonight,” 

“Less?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper when you saw that Natasha was the only other person in the room with you. 

Natasha frowned, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “She’s in London, remember? The game against Luxembourg starts soon,” 

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together. You hadn’t remembered that they were playing Luxembourg. 

“She’s starting?” 

“No,” Natasha shook her head. “It’s mostly the young ones starting since the over-under is plus 20 for England,”

Your nose scrunched, and you forced yourself to sit up. “She has to play,”

None of this would be worth it if she never touched the field. 

“I think Serina is using this as more of an identification camp,” Natasha countered, stepping in to help you sit up. “The girls need rest after doing both the Champions League and regular play these last couple of weeks,”

You grunted though it sounded more like a pained wheeze than a grunt. 

Alessia’s schedule had been nearly as insane as your own for the past few months. It was part of the reason you were so… reluctant to bother her with something as trivial as a tickle in your throat. 

“Maybe you should take a page out of her book,” Natasha added. 

Your nostrils flared immediately at the implication. 

Your job was so much less physical than Alessia’s. You didn’t do anything to deserve rest like she did. 

The pressure you both face to perform was inherently different.

She didn’t let down millions of people every time she rode the bench. She wouldn’t crush the dreams of thousands of people if she didn’t take the pitch. 

But still, you could already hear her argument ringing in your head. 

I expect you to care for the things that belong to me as deeply and completely as I do. That includes yourself. Your needs matter, and I will not allow you to disregard them.

“No.” You rasped, none of the bite you meant appearing in the word. 

“Yes,” Natasha countered, shifting the pillows behind you before you leaned back. “There is no way you can perform tonight,”

You huffed, and crossed your arms, glaring at the city beyond the large window to the right of the bed. “People paid-“

“To hear you sing. Not hack your way through a set,” Natasha cut you off. “They’ll be more disappointed if you give them a show that’s not your best. Reschedule the last 3, so they’re worth what they paid,”

Your glare only deepened, and your eyebrows pulled very tightly together as you processed what she was saying (taking a few extra minutes to cut through the thick fog in your brain). 

You knew she was playing on your sensibility. You thought ticket prices were disgusting, and had fought to lower them as much as you could. You had made your show longer in retaliation, so the fans got what they paid for. 

You wouldn’t give them a sub-par show. 

You didn’t look at her but nodded once. 

“I’ll have Tony write a statement. Do you want to approve it before it goes out?” She asked, her voice gentle. 

You shook your head, your lips pursing. 

“We’ll release it then, and I’ll call a doctor so we can get you some real medication,” The redhead continued, ignoring the deep frown pulling at your features. 

It wasn’t that you were trying to be difficult. You just knew what would happen the second the people staked outside of your hotel caught sight of a doctor. 

But now you felt like you didn’t have a choice, and not in the fun way.

“Fine,” You muttered, a hacking cough following it. 

Natasha patted your back until the coughing stopped, and you relaxed back against the pillows. “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have food sent up, you just watch the game and try to get more sleep before the doctor gets here,”

You huffed but didn’t protest as she tucked the blanket tighter around your torso. 

“I know you’re unhappy with all of this, but it is what it is, and we need to look after your health too,” She sighed, turning and bustling around the room, flipping on the television to the game and grabbing a mug you hadn't noticed from the dresser by the door. “Drink that, and I’ll be back in a bit,”

You didn’t respond as she placed the mug on the table beside you, and disappeared through the hotel room door with a soft click. 

You wanted to groan. To yell. To throw the mug across the room, but you knew it wouldn’t help. 

The other part of you wanted your guitar, not that you were sure your fingers were strong enough right now to actually play.  

You closed your eyes, tilting your head back on the pillows. 

It wasn’t long before you felt fingers in your hair, though you hadn’t heard the door open again. 

You instantly knew who it was, though her perfume was suspiciously missing. 

“You look like you got hit by a bus,” She murmured, her breath brushing across your nose. 

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting her blue, except it was two shades darker than you remembered, the same shade as the old UNC jersey she was wearing. 

“I’m fine,” You croaked, the sound pulling a hacking cough from your lungs that burned as it left you. 

“Ah yes, because you sound just fine,” She huffed, her nails scratching lazily at your scalp. “You don’t need to hide from me,”

You blinked slowly, and her form shimmered slightly beside you. “‘M not. ‘M right here,”

“Rule one is honesty for a reason,” She countered, her hand pausing. “You’ve not abided by that.”

You swallowed around the glass in your throat at the confirmation of what you already knew, and your eyes closed again as the heavy weight of it settled on your mind. 

You had broken the most sacred rule and you were in trouble. It wouldn’t just be a punishment you would have to take. It would be regaining her trust that would take the longest time. 

It was a fragile thing, and you had shattered it. 

You forced your eyes open again, determined to say something- anything- that would make it better, except when you did, she was gone. 

You blinked heavily at the empty bed beside you. The space she had been seconds ago. 

You wanted to shake your head, but with the freight train pounding in your skull, you knew that was a terrible idea. 

“This is a very different starting eleven for England, but it’s what we expected. The only change of note is that Alessia Russo is unavailable for this game.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the television, flashing the starting lineup for the game. 

Natasha said Alessia wasn’t starting, but you expected her to at least be on the bench. 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back. 

What was the point of suffering alone if Alessia wasn’t even going to play?

You weren’t sure anymore.

******

“I’ve got her,” 

You stirred at the familiar voice, and the feeling of gentle fingers running through your hair and the bed shifting next to you. The scent of lavender and honey wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, pulling you closer to consciousness. 

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together before your eyes flickered open, meeting the familiar blue of your girlfriend. 

“Hey there,” She said softly, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing but a low hacking cough came out. 

“Easy, little one,” Alessia shushed you softly. “Just relax. I’m here, and I’ll take care of you now, ok?”

It was painful how real she felt. Painful how much you wanted to believe she was here with you. 

“Trouble,” You mumbled, coughing violently afterward, unable to stop yourself from leaning into her hand. 

“I think we should make it your middle name since you seem to find it so often,” She murmured, running her hand again through your hair. “But no. You’re not in trouble. Not right now,”

You made a low, wheezing sound, shaking your head, despite the waves of nausea it sent to your stomach. “Real daddy disagrees,” 

She frowned. “Real daddy?”

You swallowed hard, forcing words past your stolen vocal cords. “Not here. In Luxembourg. Won’t fool me again,” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, her nails dragging against your scalp in the way she knew you loved. “Natasha called me last night, and I got on the flight as soon as I could,”

It took a few extra seconds for her words to filter through the unpleasant haze in your brain. Even then, they didn’t make sense. 

Hell, her entire demeanor, including the softness in her features as she looked at you, didn’t make sense. 

You explicitly told Natasha not to call her, and you couldn’t process her going against that request. Not when Alessia had a game to play. 

“My brain is making you up,” You wheezed after another long second. 

She breathed out a half chuckle. “While your brain is brilliant, I wasn’t conjured by it,” 

You made a low, husky sound that could only be incredulity. 

Her thumb again smoothed the space between your eyebrows. “What will it take for you to believe you’re awake?”

You blinked heavily at her, your shoulders lifting and falling. 

She shook her head. “You’re too much,”

“No,” You mumbled, the crease between your eyebrows pushing against her finger. “‘M a good girl,”

“Yes. You are always my good girl, even when you’re being a stubborn pain in the ass,” She agreed fondly, leaning down to press a kiss to your too-warm forehead. “Sleep. I’ll be here where you wake up, and maybe you’ll actually believe you’re not dreaming,”

“Promise?” you asked. Sounding small, as exhaustion pulled at you. 

She hummed. “I promise,”

Her fingers kept their soft rhythm in your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, and you shifted to press your nose into her shoulder, breathing in her perfume with each rattling intake from your lungs. It surrounded you, soothing the burning in your chest, and soothing the sharp edges in your throat. 

For the first time since the lingering tickle started, you actually felt at peace. You felt calm enough to let yourself truly relax. 

It would suck when you woke up and Alessia was gone, but doing anything other than allowing your mind to linger in this delusion felt unbearable. 

Instead, you allowed yourself to sink into the overwhelming pull of exhaustion. 

And you swore you heard an “always,” before sleep pulled you under. 

Even if this alessia didn’t turn out to be real, you trusted her. And as angry as you wanted to be at Natasha and Steve for calling her, you knew she was exactly what you needed. 

She always would be, even if she was just made up in your mind. 

[moltenapian]

> assuming the dom is a man

> assuming the dom is doing it because they like to see the sub suffer instead of doing it purely as an exercise in making their sub feel good in the ways that best work for them

Like fr

Not to get too personal on main but I've been pretty seriously SAd fairly continuously over a period of about five years of my life. Without going into details, it's led to pretty serious drives to self-harm. More beneath the cutoff of you want to read, I guess. It's late so I'm going to be very personal.

Drives that have been rewarded by society at large, in fact. Exercising 25 hours a week on less than 1800 calories a day, while it absolutely ruined my body in the long, made me one of the best rowers in my state in the short term. Nobody pulled me aside and told me that it was unhealthy, that I'd hurt myself, that in four years I'd hardly be able to function and certainly not in any high level athletics. No, they just cared I was faster at racing boats than the others.

I sought self harm in a lot of ways, none of which were controlled. Staying up far too late and working much longer hours than I should have. Not eating anywhere near enough in order to maintain my thin figure. All of it, rewarded and encouraged.

Only after some very severe health scares and deep reexamination of my situation did I really truly identify these drives and how they affected me in such an unhealthy manner. I can't get rid of them. After five years of consistent sexual trauma (and otherwise but we don't need to worry about that) those things are rooted too deep to excise.

But now that I'm in a healthy relationship with a partner who is accepting and understanding of my hangups, trauma triggers, and the things which I need to be able to function in a relationship, I've been able to deal with these impulses in a healthy way.

Better to handle that stuff in a scene where absolutely everything is agreed upon by both parties beforehand, safewords are strictly enforced, and nothing gets pushed too too far. Just enough to stop the part of my brain that wants me to hurt to be satiated for a while. My instincts for self harm are almost entirely abated with occasional "rough" sex and bitter drinks (ngl in my experience a very good way to alleviate those feelings).

Anyways, these days I've been sleeping enough, eating enough, and the healthiest and happiest I've ever been in my life. A productive environment to be able to work out those feelings is really invaluable, and I'm glad to have it.

All this goes to say... it sounds like OP either hasn't practiced safe BDSM (which is a very real risk, don't get me wrong) or is simply judging something based on an emotional/moral reaction. Anyways the criticisms really don't hold up, and tbh in 98% of cases competitive sports teams rely on the same dynamics and are wayyyy more unhealthy. I could write a whole essay on this but now is not the time.

This post is stupid as hell and I'm certainly sorry I (and you all) had to see it

not me printing and framing this shit

[cvnt4him]

Inexperienced izu thanks to candie

just izu who remembers over hearing not only on social media but from some of the guys that eating oysters help with the male cumshot, supposedly making it longer and more enjoyable for women! he obviously had never had a girlfriend before and wanted his partner to be happy with him. Izuku was slightly insecure of what he had, especially because he was on the short side too! Maybe he was overthinking it but he couldn't take any chances!!

The next day you'd see a complete shift in his diet, izuku always had some kind of protein based diet with tons of rice and some veggies to even it out of course but the way it seemed to strictly consist of more water cranberries celery and a ton of oysters concerned you. Izuku loves sea food by all means but too many of the same things get a little annoying, you walked over to izuku and seen him absolutely destroying the oysters and then everything else on his plate. Izu was an eater by all means but this was just crazy to you

“ izu?”

Izuku squeaked and jumped up at the sudden call of his name, nearly choking on his food as he slowly turned to face you swallowing the fuck ton of food he had in his mouth with a hard gulp.

“ oh.. uhm, hi baby! I- I mean uh.. honey...?”

Your heart couldn't help but to flutter at his nervousness, you and izuku had only been dating for about 4 months not that long but long enough to where you occasionally kiss and hold hands and just want to be around each other more. Izuku was your first boyfriend just as you were his first as well, you were easily as excited as he was if not more. Or so you thought...

You mean down and kiss his forehead ruffling his hair as you take a seat beside him making him blush, red crawling up his neck and completely covering his freckled face. He gave you a nervous smile as he scratched the back on his neck looking away from you.

“ don't feel forced to call me any pet names if you're not comfortable with it, izu.”

He hummed fiddling with his fingers. It's not that he didn't want to call you them, it's more than he wasn't sure which one. He feared that maybe if he called you the wrong one you'd cringe and die! You'd break up with him immediately and tell everyone he was lame! Of course you would, why would you even want to be with someone like him anyways..

“ what's with the sudden diet change zuzu?”

A ton of thoughts started taking over izukus mins, making him feel kind of bad about himself reminding him why he was even doing this to begin with. The question you asked him had him holding back to reality with wide eyes and an even more flushed expression, he was stuttering and his vocal range was rising hands moving all about as he came up with some sort of excuse.

“...uh..huh, so I have to go but uhm... maybe text me?”

You excused yourself figuring if he wanted to tell you he would. Not thinking much of it as you left, however izuku was beating himself up the entire time. You were probably so embarrassed to be his girlfriend, he was embarrassed. He couldn't even tell his girlfriend that he wanted to pleasure her but was too insecure about what he has and what it wouldn't be able to do so he asked around and got advice and now he's trying to change the way he eats to ensure he gives you a good time...whenever you're ready for that step, of course.

Izuku didn't tell you what was up so you asked around, despite wanting to leave it up to him to tell you, you were nervous. This is your first time having a boyfriend and normally izuku is quite open with you so of course the sudden change startled you. You end up asking the girls for advice first hoping they can give you just a little foresight in the situation.

“ so what's the problem?”

Mina asks you, changing out of her training uniform.

“ he just.. it's nothing too big I suppose, maybe I shouldn't even be all that worried.”

You think about it more, maybe it's not that big of a deal anyways..

“ don't beat yourself up too much you're allowed to be worried about him!”

Ochako chimes in helping you shut out any negative thoughts, she was good at that. You smile at her and sigh.

“ he's changed his diet like...a lot, drastically even. I'm concerned he's not getting all that he needs, I guess? I mean he's normally really good with himself and the way he eats y'know so there must be a reasoning behind the sudden change, especially because all it consists of is a couple of cranberries that I can remember and a couple sticks of celery and a shit ton of oysters. And water. Like two bottles”

The girls hummed at your words, thinking together at what it could possibly be. That wasn't much of a diet anyways given most of them dieted or watched their food to help maintain their image or to help them in any way they were sure this was quite strange.

“ well, the only time I eat cranberries or drink cranberry juice is to help my pH levels, maybe that's the case for him too. I hear they also make you taste better so y'know win win”

You hum at minas words, but would it provide the same results in him that it would someone with traditionally female anatomy? It stumped you.

“ same thing for water and oysters by the way! water helps clean out your system and balance everything inside of you, regardless of gender y'know given we're made up of water and all-”

Yaoyorozu then went on a ramble sesh providing information of the human body and how certain foods help. As helpful as this was for you it didn't really help in the case of izuku, why would he need to detox in such a big way?

Mina eventually cut yaomomo off explaining a Google search she'd found.

“ hey look what I found; supposedly it's common to think oysters can help you shoot ropes out of your dong.”

The double take you did when mins gave the news had her laughing, you just sat there wide eyed as the girls broke into conversation about it, blushing laughing and giggling about different things. Was izuku trying to... Had he thought about moving forward with you in such a big way? You bit your lip at the thought, maybe that was it. It made more sense to you than anything else. You had to talk to him and fast.

You ran to izukus room as fast as you could once the day was over and you were finished studying, your main priority was finding out the truth. You couldn't help but think about it on the jog there from the library to the dorm house. You didn't know how to feel about it, it's normal to want to move forward with your partner especially if you've been together for a while and haven't done anything, that was your case.

But you hadn't been together that long so..it's not as if he was sullying your relationship with his wants and needs you knew this day would come but...were you ready for this? The think about it wasn't too long given how you'd touched yourself a couple days earlier thinking about him.

Clearly the both of you were ready for this so why the wait? Suddenly you felt better about this and almost hoped that what you found out was the reasoning behind his sudden change. Once you made it to izukus room you caught your breath and were quick to knock on his door practically beating on it. There wasn't a quick answer, it took him a moment to stutter out a breathy response.

“ huh.. i- com..coming!!”

You heard shuffling and rearranging in his bedroom before the steps came closer, he swung the door open and his facial expression was slightly annoyed and he was sweaty chest lightly heaving up and down as his beautiful green eyes were lidded a light shade of red dusting over his cheeks. His shirt was kind of wrinkled and....on backwards?

“ oh! Y/n! what- what uhm are you doing here!!”

His expression changed immediately upon seeing you, the annoyed one being replaced with nervousness. You loved how nervy he got when he seen you, and how shaky he'd get when you would stand too close to him or kiss him or hug him. He was such a cutie

“ can I uh come inside?”

“ uh- yes! yes please- I- of course! come in!”

,“ thanks baby”

You walked past him and sat your bag down on the floor in front of his bed, fixing your skirt over your thighs as you waited for him to sit next to you. After studying you'd ran straight to his dorm and didn't get the time to change, unlike izuku who was in his adorable little set up. You couldn't help but to giggle at his backwards bed shirt and shorts as he sat next to you he got quite a blushed look at the sound of you giggling.

You lift a hand and cup his cheek kissing his nose with a smile causing him to literally melt in your hand, his face leaning into the warmth of your palm as his lids droop over his eyes, you could almost see hearts in them. He sighed through his nose and moved forward to kiss yours leaning his forehead against yours with a giggle that you gave back.

“ y'know your shirts on backwards my love.”

You whisper to him with your eyes closed and a gentle tone, you hear a little gasp come from him but he didn't move away just a mumble leaving him. You couldn't help but to giggle lowly at your boyfriend's cuteness.

“ I have something to ask you. I would appreciate if you told me the truth.”

That scared izuku to be completely honest. Why would you say something like this all of the sudden, you two were having such a cute moment and you randomly said that during it. He was frightened. Maybe you finally decided to get rid of him, he figured it was only a matter of time. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but what else could it be. You were absolutely perfect in his eyes, it was only a matter of time before you found someone equally as perfect. Maybe shoto, he'd really handsome and looks like he could be a model. Or maybe katsuki, he'd furiously attractive as well, or maybe-

“ did you change your diet because you heard it'll help you with sex..?”

You whispered lowly to him kind of embarrassed that you were even asking. Izuku squeaked out a pitchy "huh?!" at your question. That was NOT what he thought you were going to say let alone ask. But yes, that was indeed why he changed the way he ate. He wanted to be better for you in case you decided that you were ready. But he couldn't tell you that, oh no, he couldn't even move. He had moved away from you and simply looked at you with wide eyes and a crazy blush taking over his features. He was speechless.

“ I...just overheard that some of the things you were eating and the way you were drinking tons of water supposedly helps with....uhm rather intimate acts..?”

He was shaking literally speechless and shaking. You could hear the shakyness in his stuttering which is surprising. He didn't know what to do let alone say to you, he was so embarrassed that you'd found out. You probably think he's such a loser now..

“ ...if..if you wanted to do something like that. I wouldn't be opposed.”

If his already widened eyes could get any more wide they would. You literally seen the way they wanted to pop out of his head, it honestly made you laugh.

“ izuku calm down hun! you're so red and you look like your eyes are gonna pop out of your head!”

“ i- I just-...”

He covered his face with his hands whinging beneath them and falling into your arms, you laugh out awing at him rubbing his back as he whined into the crook of your neck, he was so embarrassed that not only had you caught on but you wanted to stay with him and you wanted to do more with him. He really felt like he could die.

“ why is your shirt on backwards, honey”

You coo down to him with laughter laced in your voice, he whines once more peeking up to look at you in your eyes before averting eye contact. His brows furrowed in embarrassment you could see the blush taking over his features, he trusted you a lot and he wanted you to know that. Maybe if he told you the truth then....

“ ....I was...”

He mumbled the rest to the point it was unheard by you. You hum brushing your finger over his forehead removing some hair from in front of his eyes making him get even more flustered as if that were even possible.

“ ...you know...”

Literally nothing came to your mind when he said that, definitely not what he said next.

“ I was.. masturbating....”

He said it lowly expecting not to be heard once again however you heard him all too well. It was your turn for your eyes to widen. You were shocked to say the least, it's not that you didn't expect izuku to...indulge. you just didn't think you would catch him in the act.

Given your lack of response he felt a rush of shame, he was so embarrassed that he told you. You must've thought he was a disgusting slob who lusts after himself like some....creep! To his surprise you continued taking your fingers through his hair and even placed a kiss on top of his head making him lift up to look at you with slightly glassy eyes.

“ is that so, my love.”

You spoke softly in attempts to calm him down, you figured he felt somewhat ashamed of himself given his lack of response. He was prone to getting in his feelings when things went south. However in izukus eyes the way you spoke to him was so sultry and seductive, the way you cooed to him and looked down at him with love in your eyes despite what he does.

“ ...b- but it was only to see if anything had changed! y'know because..I changed the way I ate to...to..”

“ so I was right!”

Izuku hums in embarrassment laying his cheek on your chest. You pull his head up to kiss his lips, he absolutely melts in your arms rough lips meeting with your soft ones in a sweet and gentle dismay. You were so soft with him and so patient too, he couldn't help but to want more given you'd interrupted his....activities that he normally indulges in after class is out of when he has time.

He climbed on top of you and laid you down on his pillows letting one of his knee find it's way in between your legs and his hands on your sides just sitting there not daring to move any further without your authorization.

The kiss grew sloppier more full of need from both ends, you heard a groan leave him as he felt you slightly grind down on to his knee, he broke away from your lips momentarily to catch a breath, it fanning over your face before he experimentally shoved his tongue in your mouth it was only to test the waters, he never expected you to moan into the kiss making his already hardened cock twitch against your thigh his breath hitched at the unexpected movement from his member the kiss broke and he didn't want to look at you.

He was red from embarrassment and being heavily turned on, he wanted you but didn't want to push your boundaries. He bit his bottom lip and exhaled shakily. To his surprise you flipped him over and was now on top of him rubbing his chest with your hands, he looked up at you with his wide green eyes izuku was ready for whatever you wanted as long as you wanted it with him.

You ground your hips into his slowly to see his reaction and to your surprise his head slowly rolled back along with his eyes earning a deep gasp, his hands immediately rushing to your hips and gently squeezing. He tried to raise his hips into your warmth as you continued grinding only to suddenly stop with a laugh. he sighed quickly, extremely upset at the stop of movement.

“ ..baby....please?”

So whiney. He was such a sweet thing, you figured he deserved it. why not make your first time truly memorable?

[fleurdeladore]

dating george weasley . . . 💭

✧ his love language is acts of service. peeling oranges for you, holding his hand over sharp corners so you don’t hit your head, pouring your drink before he pours any for himself, and yes — he knows the sidewalk rule. you’ll even find that things you had mentioned needing to do will be done by the time you get around to it. he enjoys helping you anyway he can.

✧ he just has a romantic soul. molly raised him to be a gentleman, and that’s what he strives to be for you.

✧ he carves your name / initials into his broomstick. during quidditch matches, he will always keep an eye out for you in the stands, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t try to show off a bit for you.

✧ he will always lend you his clothes, but especially if you’re in a different house because seeing his favorite slytherin in gryffindor colors makes him all giddy no i’m not projecting.

✧ alternatively, he will constantly try to steal your clothes, wearing your shirt right in front of you like it belonged to him.

✧ he remembers everything about you. your favorite color? your childhood pets name?? the one very niche book you only mentioned once??? all of the above (and you will absolutely be finding that book in his bedroom after the fact).

✧ he loves just being close to you. he’s not overly touchy, but if you’re sitting together, his arm or knee is brushing against yours, or if you’re standing in the hallways, he’s standing behind you with his chin on top of your head or your shoulder.

✧ so much playful banter. he will constantly flirt with you like he isn’t already dating you, and if he makes you blush, you will never hear the end of it until he starts blushing and you get to tease him for it.

✧ he’s the slightly more shy twin (which isn’t saying much when you look at fred), so he will get bashful if you compliment him enough.

✧ he isn’t huge on public displays of affection.

✧ grand gestures are a big deal for him, however. leaving love notes in your textbooks, running straight to you after winning a quidditch match to lift you up and spin you around, waking up extra early to meet you outside your common room every morning (or in front of the fireplace for the gryffindors out there).

✧ when he kisses you, he always cups your face with his soft hands (surprisingly soft for a quidditch player, may i add).

part 1 / ?

[bloos-bloo]

HELLOOO!! I HAVE RETURNED- ANDDD Idk how to do lineups- please- this is a new type of embarrassing for me lmaooo-

BUT HEY! BISHOP REDESIGNS PART…. 3! YIPPEEE-

I didn’t change much lore wise- so the original sheet still has some info- but I will be info dumping under the cut with the individual art of each and like- my inspirations for them.

Narinder changed a lot- ummm he’s such a slay now. Omggg- Tee hee- Anyways, His pronouns are He/Him and he’s Pansexual- yes yes. He’s no longer a disciple but he’s an Undertaker and a GraveWatcher. Thought it was more fitting for him-

Ummm he’s based off a Kurilian Bobtail cat :D I NEEDED TO MAKE HIM FUN TO DRAW OKKK?? AND NOW HE ISSS AKDBDJDBJD

Leshy uses He/Him pronouns and he’s gay demisexual Yaaayyy- :D He’s a bartender and occasionally farms, but he rather destroy the plots for fun or eat the crops.

I kinda took all kinds of inspirations for him- ummm first of all- I based him off the Moss Creeps from hollow knight- cause yeah- they’re adorable. HE HAS LESS CLOTHING CAUSE HES ALWAYS IN THE DIRT- Less clothes = Less of a hassle to deal with clothing being restrictive. It makes totallyyy sense- yes yes

Me accidentally making Heket my favorite- tee hee- WIBDKDBD OK- Heket uses She/Her pronouns and she’s aroace. She has no time for no MAN OR WOMAN- AS SHE SHOULD!! GIRLBOSS YOUR WAY THROUGH LIFE!! YIPPPEEEE- She’s usually a cook but once a while she’ll go on missions. Give her a weapon of any kind and she’s golden.

For the life of me- I cannot draw frogs- so I based her off of the Chinese Giant Salmander- just pretend she’s totally based off a frog.

Imma be so honest- idk why I always draw Kallamar so small- tee hee-

OK! Kallamar’s transfeminine who uses He/They pronouns. They’re also poly <3 love that for himmm- look at themmm- enough hands to holddd- A good think to point out is that they’re completely blind in his left eye- (looks like it’s right in this- um.. trust me-) they can never win- tee hee. Uhh he’s still a medic and occasionally helps at the tailors.

Kallamar my beloved- YOU COVERED UP!! YIPPEEE- THE SLUT DOES GET COLD /silly. Um- he’s based off a diamond squid- kinda sorta- I just loved the frills those squids had- tee hee-

MURRAAAA- MUURRAAAA-

Cough cough- ummmm. Shamura’s a demisexual nonbinary <3 (AFAB to FTN- me projecting PLEASE-) They’re still a disciple but their main focus is usually in the library or tailors. Unlike Kal- their second set of arms are retractable! Along with their legs- erm, you can tell when they don’t want to walk with those small ass feet- I bet it hurts.

I have- no solid inspiration for Shamura other than tarantula- I did steal the colored beads from my human design of them. Each bead being their sibling. I just love fluffy spiders-

FINALLY THIS BITCH- /silly

Emery uses all pronouns and is unlabeled! They love whoever- (do they even love? Idk man-) She’s normally known as the Shepard, carrying around the Shepard’s hook.. love that for them- tee hee- uhhh not much to say about her. I just love Emery- (The difference between the two Emerys is terrifying btw-)

Like Shamura- I have no official inspiration for them besides looking around Pinterest. Man- I just love how she came out though- like??? Ekdbdjbdkdbdjdvdid-

I wish I wrote more but my brain is dying- I’ll most definitely redesign my fankids and the spouses- 🫡 laaatteerrr- yes yes- tee hee-

[wheeboo]

candy | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. After moving back into the city to be closer with friends and family, you start receiving letters from an unknown sender in your mail. When curiosity gets the better of you, you decide to respond, and what begins as a simple sweet-tasting exchange soon blossoms into something more with someone you’ve never met—or so you think. But as the snow continues to fall, you find yourself confronting the bitter-tasting feelings you thought were long buried back in your youth, as well as the person who’s been hiding in plain sight all along. Loosely inspired from vocal unit’s, Candy. PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, penpal au, angst, exes to lovers, second chance romance WARNINGS. swearing, alcohol and food consumption, mild cursing, jeonghan and reader broke up on bad terms, low mental health mentions, constant push-pull dynamic between them that it's infuriating, brief one bed trope, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 20.8k

notes: this is my fic for the @camandemstudios "winter with you" collab! thank you to @bananabubble @slytherinshua @etherealyoungk for either reading over this or dealing with me crashing out HAHA. tho i'm kind of unsatisfied and not entirely proud of how this fic turned out in the end, i hope you enjoy nonetheless. please make sure to check out the other fics in the collab as well! spread some love to all talented authors who worked so hard on their work <3

Hi. I hope this message gets to you well, and if this is random, or maybe even scary, well… I truly apologise, oops. I drank a little too much tonight, and was obnoxiously dared to send a holiday postcard to a random apartment in the building. Do people even still do that nowadays? Anyway, the holidays are coming up! Continue to stay warm, whoever you are.  - 017

You stare at the letter for a minute or two, eyeing over the sloppy cursive penmanship. The ink of the letters are smudged and the uneven strokes hint at either too much wine or the kind of nervousness that makes hands unsteady. Or maybe both.

When you flip the letter over, it was pretty plain in of itself, other than the festive design of snowflakes scattered over the front. But you didn’t catch sight of any name behind the letter, just what you can only assume to be their door number, and an awful doodle of what you could decipher to be a snowman with a ridiculously long nose. 

Based on the numbering they signed off with, they’d be on the bottom floor, probably somewhere in the west wing, the complete opposite part of where you’re staying. You’ve barely had time to familiarise yourself with the neighbours since moving in just about a week ago𑁋too many boxes to unpack and too little energy to make small talk𑁋but now you find yourself wondering who might live there.

Setting the letter down on your kitchen counter, you brush off some stray snowflakes that landed on your coat, shredding it off and tossing it off in another direction, quietly mulling over the handwritten words shining under the singular light above. 

Your first instinct is to simply brush it off as some holiday prank or a fleeting moment of courage from the alcohol on their part. But there’s a small part of you𑁋a part that’s always leaned into curiosity more than you’d care to admit𑁋that lingers on the way they ended it. Continue to stay warm, whoever you are. There’s something… a bit nice about the way they wrote it, as if they truly meant it, and for some reason it’s enough to quirk up a small smile to your face. 

You could respond, but then again, would that be strange? After all, you don’t even know this person. They could be anyone𑁋someone too bored or drunk to care about the implications of sending a random note. But then again, what would you even say? Thank you for your drunken holiday cheer? Do you be polite or try to be comical? The thought makes you laugh quietly to yourself.

You’ve always been a little too curious for your own good, and something about the letter feels harmless𑁋charming, even. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to keep it going. It isn’t like you had much to do tonight anyway other than wading in the thought of how empty your apartment feels right now. 

Instead of discarding it, you choose to pin the letter on your refrigerator behind a cat magnet, before rushing to your room to shuffle through a drawer of office supplies. With a click of the pen, you press the tip to the smooth surface of this beige-coloured paper that was staring right back at you, and you immediately pause, because what the hell were you even going to say?

Still, the curious part of you doesn’t let go.

Hi, 017. I wasn’t expecting to receive a holiday postcard in my mail, let alone from a stranger, but here we are. First of all, love the snowman. Could rival Pinnochio or something, right? Sorry that was pretty lame to say  write. Hopefully the hangover won’t be too bad. If it helps, drink a metric ton of water (not literally though, please), and make some nice, hot ramen. To answer your question, I have no idea if people still send postcards, but it’s nice that you did. It made me smile, to be honest.  Anyway, I guess I’ll leave it at that. No need to drag this out. Stay warm on your end too, whoever you are. - 526

There’s no going back now, it seems.

A small snowball strikes your cold cheek.

“The hell, man?” You quip, lightly elbowing Soonyoung as he stumbles dramatically away.

“Come on, can’t a guy miss their best friend? You were gone for a whole ass three years and the only thing missing is the dramatic reunion we deserve,” Soonyoung pouts exaggeratingly, brushing snow off his gloves as he trails beside you on the sidewalk. “That was tame compared to the fireworks I have planned, you know. Oh, and the ski resort we’re going to for New Years. Mingyu and Seokmin have it all booked already.”

“Fireworks? A ski resort?” You crack a laugh at that. “Fireworks are getting more expensive than convenience store ramen, dude.”

“It’s a start!” Soonyoung counters, grinning widely that you swear never gets old. “You left us with nothing but a goodbye text, and now you’re back as if you didn’t ghost the group chat for ages. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d throw a bigger snowball next time.”

His words carry a teasing edge, but there’s something warm that hides underneath them, something comforting about having this kind of familiarity again after being gone for so long because of school and other opportunities. You’ve missed this𑁋missed them, missed everyone you’ve pretty much left behind in all the time you were gone.

“You guys really went all out for me, huh?”

“Yepper-doo.”

You cringe at that. “Please don’t say that ever again.” But Soonyoung just laughs.

As the two of you trail through the busy city, you realise that hardly anything has changed ever since you left. There’s familiar sightings of places you’ve shopped at and eaten back then, like the cinema down the street where you used to go on a marathon to watch all the Studio Ghibli films that would only play a few times a year. Or that arcade place where the pizza was always just a little too greasy and left you with an angry stomach ache at times. 

“I’m sorry, I know I suck at keeping in touch,” You admit in a shameful manner, adjusting your scarf with a bit of apprehension. “But I’m here now, okay? Trying to fix things and whatnot.”

Soonyoung’s grin melts into something more genuine, and he playfully pats your snow-covered shoulder. “We know, dummy. And I’m glad you’re here. Just don’t think you can disappear on us like that again. I’ve got a whole arsenal of snowballs, and I’ll make Mingyu go full mom mode if he has to.” 

His words wrap like a blanket around you, the guilt you’ve been carrying on your shoulders easing just a little. You’ve been worried about how your absence might have created a gap too wide to bridge across. But here’s Soonyoung, your best friend for the last decade, in all his chaotic, sunshine-like glory, meeting you halfway as if nothing’s changed.

You missed your life here… for the most part. 

“Thanks,” You mutter, offering him a small, grateful smile.

“Don’t sweat it.” He wraps an arm around you. “Come on, the ol’ café is right around the corner.”

It’s almost as if your feet remember the exact path to the café he was talking about. It’s a place that has quite literally watched over your lives𑁋over the way you’ve all grown from pubescent, snobby teenagers to young adults struggling to navigate through adulthood. The café still stands in the exact spot as you remember, nestled between the local laundromat and a smoke shop that had been rebranded one too many times. Just seeing it again tugs at a memory, a bittersweet warmth spreading through your chest.

The scent of coffee beans and fresh pastries float through the air as you step inside right after Soonyoung. It's been years since you last walked in here, yet everything feels oddly familiar, nostalgic even. You see the chipped ceramic rugs lining some the shelves, the mismatched chairs and old wooden tables, the cozy corner booths where you and your friends spent countless hours talking about everything and nothing at all𑁋it’s all still here, like it’s stuck in time.

Soonyoung drags you right to the front by the sleeve of your coat, before forcing you to stand in place.

“Okay, order for me. I gotta piss!” he whisper-yells to you. 

You blink. “Wait, what do you want𑁋”

But Soonyoung bolts away to the restroom before you could even ask what he wants, and you roll your eyes as you face back forward, letting your shoulders fall relaxingly. You tap your feet rhythmically on the floor below, scrolling aimlessly through your phone as you wait for your turn, your best friend seemingly taking an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom. 

Soonyoung still isn’t back by the time it’s your time to order, and when you glance up from your phone, you nearly drop it to the floor. 

He still looks the same. It’s not the kind of revelation that should have left you breathless and your heart hammering a bolt in your chest, but it does. He doesn’t look much different, besides the longer hair where the tips barely graze his shoulders had been dyed to a light blonde that complemented his warm, sleepy brown eyes. But it’s the way his presence fills the room, the way the familiarity of his smile still carries that same, natural calmness from before𑁋it’s as if nothing had changed. As if you hadn’t been gone for years. As if everything that happened between the two of you had never even happened.

He seems to suck in a breath of his own, too.

“Hello,” Jeonghan simply greets, and his voice makes you shift your weight uncomfortably between your two feet.

“Two hot chocolates, please,” You say all too quickly, already fishing your card out of your wallet and tapping it against the counter impatiently, nervously. 

Jeonghan seems to notice your slight discomfort as he punches in your order, taking his precious time doing so, and it only wants to make you melt into the ground below just so you wouldn’t feel his eyes on you. Then he gives you that imperceptible, almost teasing smile, the one that used to make your insides twist when you were younger. It used to be one of comfort, but now it only brings a bitter taste to your mouth. 

He opens his mouth to speak, “It’s been𑁋”

“The order is for Y/N. Thank you,” You respond almost irritatingly, already turning away on your heel and heading to the pick-up counter before he can finish his sentence. The last thing you want right now is to be stuck in a conversation that you’ve avoided for years. The bitterness in your mouth grows, but you try to push it down, focusing on the sensation of your fingers gripping your phone tightly.

You feel your thoughts bouncing painfully off the walls in your head𑁋what are the odds? What are the odds that the one café you’ve practically grown up in houses the one person you’ve tried to bury in your past? 

“Did you order?!” Soonyoung’s voice pops back in as he’s shaking away his damp hands, a few drops of the water landing on your hot skin. “Sorry I took so long. There literally wasn’t any toilet paper left and I𑁋”

“When did he start working here?”

“What?” Soonyoung asks, blinking at you with a puzzled expression as he takes in your stiff posture. Then he follows to where you’re staring at𑁋at Jeonghan who was quietly preparing some drinks behind the counter𑁋and his jaw drops to the floor. “Oh. Well, I think he𑁋”

“Actually, just… Just forget about it,” You mutter, cutting Soonyoung off, eyes still watching Jeonghan’s movements, a certain casualness behind it that’s almost annoying. 

Soonyoung glances over at Jeonghan, who is now wiping his hands on a towel, his gaze lifting briefly in your direction. The briefest moment of eye contact makes your stomach churn. Soonyoung notices it too, but instead of pushing, he shrugs it off.

“I know you two never really got the chance to𑁋”

“No,” You interrupt Soonyoung again, facing him with a sharp look. “I’m not interested, okay?”

That bitterness falls on your tongue again, like a taste of candy that’s been left out too long𑁋sweet at first but quickly souring in your mouth.

Before Soonyoung can say anything else, your name is called from the counter. You turn away, eager to get the drinks and just leave the café before things can spiral into anything more. However, it’s him that’s handing you the drinks as you approach the counter, and for a second, the tips of his fingers brush against your hand. 

“Welcome home,” Jeonghan says quietly, his voice almost a whisper, and it hits you like a cold breeze. You shiver at that.

Dear 526, Hello. I wasn’t even sure if I’d write again after that postcard, but here we are. I think I owe you an apology for my first letter. I wasn’t expecting a reply at all. I figured you’d just laugh it off and forget about it. But you didn’t, and that somehow feels comforting. It’s nice to know I made someone, let alone you, smile. Anyway, about the snowman, I’m glad you liked it! It wasn’t even supposed to be Pinnochio, but art is subjective, right? The nose might be a bit exaggerated, but it felt fitting at the time, I guess. I did end up having a pretty nasty hangover. The ramen really did help, by the way, and I drank a shit ton of water too. Maybe not a metric ton, but close enough. Thank you for the advice though. You’re a lifesaver.  I’ll end it here. No need to drag it out as you said, unless you’re fine with that. Hopefully your week has been going well. Life just got strange over here, to be honest. But anyway, continue to stay warm. - 017

To 017, Your snowman absolutely looked like Pinocchio. Don’t even try to deny it. Also, your cursive handwriting is pretty neat. I’m glad you survived your hangover. I don’t even drink that much myself, so I took to Google for advice. Perhaps you should thank them instead. Life getting strange, you say? Cryptic, much? I’m curious now. But you don’t have to elaborate. If anything, it’s also getting strange here as well. I’ve just recently moved back into the city, and I am not sure how I feel about it. Funny how life works like that. Familiar places seem to have a way of digging up memories you’d rather leave buried, you know? I guess life really likes throwing curveballs. But enough about that. Thanks for writing back.  - 526 P.S. If life is strange on your end, write about it. I don’t mind long letters.

You don’t even hesitate in pinning 017’s letter on your refrigerator this time.

You don’t know why you’re standing in front of the café again. 

It’s late, far later than you intended to be out. Bags of convenience store food are tightly gripped in your hands, snow crunching beneath your feet as you take another step towards the door of the cafe, before stepping back again. 

You feel ridiculous standing there, like the answer lies right behind the door, and all you had to do was push it open. The glow of the lights inside spills through the frosted glass, casting warm hues on the snowy pavement. The temptation to just walk away gnaws at you. 

What are you even hoping to accomplish here?

You sigh, your breath floating like wisps in the cold air, shaking your head dismissively. The bags in your hands crinkle as you shift your grip, trying to convince yourself that this is a bad idea. But then, as if on autopilot, your feet move forward, and as you are about to push through the door, it swings open by itself. 

Jeonghan steps out, his coat slung loosely over his shoulders, his blonde hair catching the soft light. He freezes when he sees you, the surprise in his eyes giving way to something else𑁋something unreadable. And you could only stand there, like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, or minute, maybe even a whole damn hour, neither of you speak. 

He’s the first to break the silence.

“Did you want to come in?” he asks.

“I𑁋no,” You stammer, gripping the bags in your hands even tighter. “I was just passing by.”

Jeonghan simply stares at you for a beat or two, his lips forming a thin line.

“You were never really a good liar, you know.”

You wince at the words, even though they aren't said harshly. It’s the fact that he still knows you so well, despite everything that’s passed between the two of you. It makes the sting go even deeper into your heart. The years apart have changed you, shaped you in ways that should’ve made him a stranger. 

And yet, here he is, looking at you like nothing’s different. 

“Okay, I was… I was thinking of getting some coffee before𑁋”

“Since when did you become a coffee person?”

The slight quirk you catch on his lips makes your stomach twist into an uneasy knot. You hate how he seems to still know you like the lines on the back of your hand, hate how he can still read you so easily, even after all this time.

You hate how you can’t fully hate him, even if you’ve convinced yourself enough times that you’re supposed to. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flicker curiously over you once more, and there’s a slight shiver to your limbs that he catches sight of.

“Do you want to come inside? I could give you some coffee before I𑁋”

“No,” You cut him off sharply, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “I’m fine. I just... I don’t want anything from you.”

Jeonghan’s expression falters, the familiar trace of concern flickering behind his eyes. It makes you nearly want to give in, but you refuse to show that vulnerability, because you don’t want to feel that way again. You don’t want to be the person who needs him. You can’t let yourself fall back into his orbit, because does the sun really care if you burn yourself trying to get close to it again?

He doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing into something contemplative. His mouth opens, likely to say something, but then he just closes it again. His gaze still doesn’t leave you, studying the way you stand, as if trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head. 

He doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing and softening into something contemplative. His gaze still doesn’t leave you, studying the way you stand, as if trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head. He brushes a stray lock of hair behind his ear and steps back up a fraction, letting his shoulders deflate in what may be defeat.

“It’s really been a while, hasn’t it?” 

You swallow hard. You can’t deny that it’s been so long, but here he is, standing in front of you, almost the same, yet so different. Maybe it’s the more mature look in his eyes, but something about him feels less like the Jeonghan you once knew, and you can’t quite place your finger on why that makes you even more unsettled.

“Yeah. It has.”

Jeonghan shifts between his two feet and stuffs his hands inside the pockets of his coat. You remember how easily cold he would get back then, always wrapping himself in layers even when the air wasn’t particularly chilly or sneaking his hands into your pockets as an excuse to get close with you. 

A part of you wishes he’d just leave. You wish you could escape to avoid this conversation. But you’re stuck here, frozen under his gaze, as if time has both stretched and shrunk all at once. The very thing you feared was happening𑁋you’re back where it all began.

“You look great,” he says, the words coming out mellow than you expected.

Your heart skips, and you curse at it mentally for betraying you. “Jeonghan, you can’t just𑁋”

“Can’t just what?” he interrupts gently, almost teasingly, and it makes the words die in your throat. His expression holds none of the coldness it used to. No. This is different. 

You suck in a deep breath, shaking your head as if trying to clear the fog that’s settling over your mind. You want to tell him to stop looking at you like that, to stop making everything feel so complicated, to stop making your heart flutter yet hide itself away. But the words don’t come out right.

“I… I didn’t come here for you, you know,” You confess weakly, and you hate how easily your voice crumbles. 

Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flicker down to the bags in your hands, and then back to you, studying the way you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. There’s a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah?” There’s a faint smirk to his features as he steps closer to you, but not enough to close the distance completely. “Then what are you doing here?”

The cold air nips achingly at the skin of your cheek, your lips pursing into a thin line to keep anything from spilling out. 

“I don’t know.”

You’re met with an arch of a brow, an incredulous look plaguing his features. You hate it. You want him to stop looking at you like he has the answer to your thoughts, like he knows more about what you’re going through than you do. But you’ve already dug yourself in a hole𑁋you just lied in front of him, and he knows.

Jeonghan takes another step closer, the distance between the two of you shrinking by a fraction, as if testing the waters. He’s so close now. Too close. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, the same warmth that once made you feel safe. The same warmth that you ran from when everything fell apart between you.

And you take that chance to run away again.

“I should go,” You let out nimbly, clutching the bags in your hands, turning your back toward him, not before muttering out a quiet, “I’ll… see you around.”

Jeonghan watches as you walk away, and you feel his eyes shoot lasers through you as the distance between the two of you grows. 

When he brings his gaze down to the snow-covered pavement, he lightly chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as if he’s caught between a sigh and a laugh. It’s not mocking, though. There’s something softer in it, perhaps heavier, sadder. But of course, you don’t hear it. You’re too far away now.

You don’t dare look back. If you do, you know you’ll fall apart.

Dear 526,  Hello. Sorry, it’s been a few days since I’ve opened my mail. Promise me you’ve been keeping warm, or else. Sending my thanks to Google as I write this, literally. Strange times continue, I’m afraid. Let’s just say someone walked back into my life unexpectedly, and now I’m trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse. All the memories came back with them too. A blessing because I haven’t seen them in a long time; a curse because it was simply my fault for screwing up things with them in the first place. I don’t know. Does that make sense? Sorry, I’m rambling. You said you don’t mind long letters, though, so here’s me testing the waters. Anyway, how have you been settling in the city? I can imagine it must be quite daunting. Keep hanging in there, though.  - 017

To 017,  Funny that you mention memories. They’ve been on my mind a lot too. As for your question, I think I understand. Do you ever wonder why we hold onto certain memories so tightly? Even the painful ones? It’s like a part of you is afraid to let them go because you feel like you’d lose pieces of yourself along with them. It’s complicated. Maybe that’s a little too philosophical for this letter. I guess I’ve been in my head too much.  Perhaps the past isn’t as easy to leave behind as we think. Other than that, I hope this person doesn’t cause you too much heartache. I’ll fight them if you need me to. I think I’ve been making peace with the city. Some days are good. Some days are bad. But maybe this is where I’ve always belonged. - 526

Mingyu and Soonyoung are staring at you, the two of them bent down at your level of where you sat at Mingyu’s table, hands laced in each other’s like little girls eagerly anticipating for the next Barbie doll to come out.

You raise an eyebrow at them, and you feel their eyes continue to watch as you raise your chopsticks to grab at the steaming noodles in your bowl. You bring the noodles up to your lips, blowing away the steam for a few moments, and your best friends are still staring at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

Then you huff out a loose breath. “It tastes good.”

The grins that explode on their faces and cheers of celebration that echo across Mingyu’s apartment nearly make you choke on your noodles. Mingyu fist-pumps the air, while Soonyoung jumps up as if he just scored an Olympic gold medal, nearly knocking over his chair in his excitement in the process.

“See, I knew you’d still like it!” Mingyu affirms with a cocky smirk to his face, showing off his little fangs.

“You act as if three years is enough to change my tastebuds,” You mutter as you swallow down another gulp of noodles, shaking your head amusedly at their antics. The warmth of the broth feels comforting against the chill of the evening, but the feeling of being surrounded by your closest friends warms you even more.

“Well, it could. You did live in a whole ass other country for three years,” Soonyoung chimes in, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. “What if you picked up some weird noodle preferences over there? Like… I don’t know, adding pickles or something. People change, you know.”

Mingyu groans and playfully shoves Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Pickles in noodles? Really, hyung?”

“Hey, it could happen!” Soonyoung protests, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

You roll your eyes but laugh despite yourself. “Relax, you two. I didn’t trade my soul while I was away.”

Mingyu just ruffles your hair with his hand, making a few strands stick annoyingly to your lip, while Soonyoung races away to turn on the television in the living room. Ah, your best friends are still obnoxious as they always are, as they always have been, sticking to your skin like fleas. You have no idea how you’ve managed to deal with them for so long.

Later that evening, the three of you settled on watching for old time’s sake, not before sharing a few bottles or two. Soonyoung, as always, fell asleep somewhere in the middle, and you took it upon yourself to tuck him in a pile of blankets from Mingyu’s closet, as well as volunteering to call an Uber for him because you really don’t trust yourself carrying him home. 

Once Soonyoung was tucked away and snoring on the couch, you flop back into the armchair, watching Mingyu as he drinks the last sip from his bottle. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the alcohol, but his eyes are sharp as he studies you.

A beat of silence passes.

“I ran into Jeonghan the other week.”

Mingyu nearly spits out his drink at that, coughing as he scrambles to set the empty bottle down on the coffee table.

“Jeonghan? As in Jeonghan? The Jeonghan that skipped your birthday three years ago?” he chokes out, eyes wide. 

The memory hits you like a wave. Your birthday was supposed to be a big day for you, as it is for everyone else. A day where everything felt right. But the entire day leading up to that point felt wrong. You invited your family and your circle of friends, including your boyfriend, Jeonghan. However, even then, your relationship was anything but smooth during that time.

Mornings were met with silent tension and distance; evenings were where the cracks became too hard to ignore. You always tried to brush it all off𑁋the subtle signs that something wasn’t quite right, because you loved him. You hadn’t known how to let go back then, but eventually, you did. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

But Jeonghan never showed up, and it finally broke you. Not for the cake. Not for the family. Not for you. He just… vanished from the celebration you had carefully planned.

“Yeah,” You reply ponderingly, toying with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding Mingyu’s piercing gaze. “That Jeonghan. I can’t exactly avoid him that easy, you know? Seokmin and all of them are still good friends with him.”

Mingyu lifts up a suspicious brow. “So… what happened? Did you talk to him?”

You bite your bottom lip hesitant, giving a loose shrug. “We talked. Briefly. He was just there, you know? But he seems… different. And I’m still... well, me. He still knows me too well. I don’t know what to do with that.” You pause, remembering his eyes, the way he looked at you like no time had passed at all, and your heart tightens. “I don’t know what I expected. I don’t even know why I was there.”

Mingyu lets out a contemplative hum.

“Do you still care about him?”

Your brows crease together in thought, heat coursing through your system as Mingyu’s words float around your head like it was struggling to find a proper place to land. You weren’t expecting to face this again. You thought you were over it all, or at least enough to walk away without a second glance. The simple truth is there is an answer, but an answer that you aren’t sure you’re ready to confront. 

“I… I don’t know,” You respond weakly, letting your gaze fall down to the floor. “I shouldn’t be.”

“But you do?”

The silence answers for you. 

When the Uber arrives to pick up Soonyoung, you and Mingyu help drag him into the car and watch as the driver struggles to secure him into the back seat. Soonyoung mumbles something incoherent, his limbs flopping around like a ragdoll. Mingyu tips the driver a few extra bills, and you wave goodbye to a half-conscious Soonyoung as the car pulls away from the building. 

“I’m gonna head back,” You tell him.

Mingyu just lightly jabs a finger at your forehead. You hardly realise the small headache that was beginning to take form. “Yeah, you go do that. You’re a hot mess.” 

You roll your eyes at Mingyu, pushing his finger away, but you can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. He’s right, though. Maybe you are a little bit of a mess right now. 

“Don’t do stupid things!” You hear him yell as you’ve walked about a block away from him, his voice carrying faintly through the night air. You wave back without turning around, a small chuckle escaping your lips. You don’t plan on doing anything stupid. You hope.

You walk past the café on your way home. 

You were once convinced that you and Jeonghan had the perfect relationship.

Meeting through mutual friends, hanging out in secret, falling in love in ways that felt effortless and true. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic. It was easy. It felt right. So right. Like the kind of story you’d read about in a romance novel and think, ‘That’s what I want someday’. But someday had its limits, and reality didn’t care about perfect beginnings.

Back then, the café wasn’t just a cafe𑁋it was your café. The one Jeonghan had taken you to on your first real date. The one where he’d laughed at how you ordered hot chocolate instead of coffee, teasing you for your “childish” taste, only to steal a sip and admit he liked it too. The one where you spent countless evenings together, shoulders brushing as he flicked the tip of your nose with whipped cream and your hands interlocked under the table.

Every street corner, every park bench, every late-night convenience store run was marked by a memory you’d shared with him, memories exchanged with shameless promises that one day you’d conquer the world together. And somewhere in your distant mind, you can still hear his precious laughter.

But promises don’t hold when the people making them start to crumble.

Jeonghan lost his job, which worsened his financial struggles to be able to pay for school and the lifelong dreams he had told you during conversations in the middle of the night. Scholarships were dropped, he was having trouble between finding a steady income and taking care of his family, and he simply grew silent.

I just need space and you’re not giving me any, he would say. I’m just going through a ton of shit and need to figure it out on my own. 

On the other hand, your life was slowly but surely moving forward. You got accepted into a few prominent graduate schools, some local and some abroad. You were excited about what the future was giving to you, ready to embark in this new chapter of your life, but how could you go forward with that when you didn’t want to leave him behind? 

The break-up wasn't overnight. It wasn’t a moment of screaming and door-slamming; it was gradual. A missed text here, a cancelled date there, an unreturned call somewhere. You told yourself it was just a phase. People go through hard times, and this was his. 

It was easier to blame yourself, even though deep down you knew it wasn’t just you. You weren’t perfect either; you knew there were times you pushed when you should’ve been patient, times you misunderstood when you should’ve listened. But still, the end of the knife pierced harsher than you anticipated. His absence on your birthday had been the breaking point𑁋not just because of the day itself, but because it confirmed what you’d feared all along: he wasn’t willing to fight for you, for this, anymore.

He needed space. He needed time to figure things out. And you foolishly gave it to him. Too much space, maybe. Too much time. Until he was no longer the same person who had looked at you with the kind of love that made everything else fade.

Maybe that was the problem all along. You never knew when to let go, and Jeonghan never really told you when he was ready to.

Dear 526, Don’t beat yourself up for being in your head too much. In fact, I think I’m starting to like what’s in your head if I haven’t written so already. Was that too forward? I hope it wasn’t.  The past certainly isn’t easy to leave behind, especially a past that you regret. I believe that’s where my dilemma is now. I can’t help but wonder if I’m being selfish in wanting some piece of them in my life. Just as friends would be enough. Maybe it’s some form of twisted karma for my mistakes. I guess I’m asking for advice, if it’s not too much. Enough about me though, tell me something about yourself. I’d like to get to know you more. Happy to hear you’ve been making peace with the city. Make sure you’re smiling at least three times a day. Knowing you’re happy makes me happy. - 017

To 017, It wasn’t too forward at all. Reading that was probably my first smile of the day, to be honest. You’ve got a way with words, you know? Maybe this is why I look forward to your letters.  As for your dilemma, I understand. It’s easy to believe that if things were just different, everything could go back to what it was. You’re not being selfish for wanting a piece of them, but you have to ask yourself if that piece is worth the heartache. But if you really want to try, make sure it’s for the right reasons. You can’t force someone to be in your life, but I think it’s okay to let them know, or show that you still care, without expecting anything in return. I’m not sure if that’s the best advice, but it’s the truth as I see it. Still, you know them better than me. I wouldn’t say I’m particularly interesting to get to know, but I’ll tell you this: I like to sleep with my fan on, even in the cold. I’m weird. Tell me something about you now.  And I’ll be sure to smile three times a day, for you. Maybe I’ll even try for five, just to make sure I’m doing okay. - 526

Jeonghan’s number is still in your phone. 

You found it the other night when you were doomscrolling through old messages, for no particular reason. You hadn’t thought about it for so long, not seriously at least, but here you were again, and it’s almost as if his contact had collected dust enough to catch in your eye and bring some heat there. 

Back then gave you all the reason for you to block him, or even delete it entirely. But for some reason, you didn’t. You never did.

You don’t do anything𑁋you don’t initiate a text or a call, because that would be incredibly dumb of you to do. Instead, you close off your contacts app, and call it a night.

You’ve made it this far, right? You’re not going to let Jeonghan drag you back into the past. You’re not. But when you close your eyes, it’s almost like you can still feel his presence, the heat from his body, the softness in his words. It’s comforting in a way to think about him, but also painful; a soft ache that doesn’t quite go away.

Days later, you find yourself wandering out of the local bookstore, a place where you used to hide away when you were younger to seek shelter from the city’s noise and study for your high school final exams. A couple of books are sandwiched in between your arms, the cold air hitting your skin the second you step out into the city, making you pull your woven scarf tighter around your neck.

Your steps are slow as you head toward the bus stop, the books in your arms pressing against your chest like some kind of shield. You don’t realise how lost in thought you are until you hear a voice𑁋a cheerful one, in fact.

“Y/N!”

When you whip your head around, you’re met with a stream of familiar faces. There’s Seokmin, a mutual friend of yours that you had met through Soonyoung; there’s Joshua, another boy who you’ve seen mingle within your friend group, and you’ve shared nothing but sweet interactions with; and then… there’s… Jeonghan.

“Seokmin! Hey.” You sift out a gloved hand to wave in his direction. 

“Hey! Heard you moved back into the city not that long ago. How’s that going for you?” Seokmin asks, and he still has that familiar cheery voice that could possibly cut through the clouds on a stormy day. 

“It’s been good so far,” You reply, managing a polite smile. “Still settling in, but it’s nice to be back. It feels like I never really left.”

Seokmin grins. “That’s great to hear! We’ve missed having you around.”

Your eyes flicker to Joshua, who offers you a kind smile, and then to Jeonghan, who stands a step behind the group. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his coat, and his eyes meet yours for a split second before you force yourself to look away. 

“We were just about to grab some warm drinks at the café,” Joshua chimes in, breaking the silence. “Care to join us? It’s freezing out here.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the books in your arms as if they could somehow provide an excuse. But before you can respond, Seokmin chimes in, “Come on, Y/N! It’ll be like old times. Well, kind of.”

You know you should probably decline. It’s the smarter thing to do. But something about the way Jeonghan is standing there, like he’s waiting for you to say something, keeps you rooted in place. Plus, it’s hard to say no to Seokmin. 

“I guess I can take a small pit stop,” You say, a hint of reluctance to your voice as you adjust the books in your arms. “But just for a little while. I have some things to get done later.”

“Of course, of course. We won’t keep you for long, don’t worry.” Seokmin gestures for you to follow along, and you do. 

Apparently, you’ve learned that Seokmin, Joshua, and Jeonghan all work at the café together, which is a bit of a wholesome fact to know. In Seokmin’s words, working there was a way to “stay close to the people you care about”, as he described it. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his idealistic perspective, even though you knew it was part of what made him Seokmin𑁋always seeing the bright side of things. It’s hard not to smile at how simple yet comforting his reasoning is.

Seokmin makes an immediate beeline towards the front counter with Joshua following right behind him, leaving you and Jeonghan standing together in a brief, lingering silence. It’s almost comical how the world seems to pause for just a second as you both stand there, unsure of how to move forward.

“Y/N.” Hearing him call your name sends a shiver down your spine, though you can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or the sound of his voice. “Your books are about to fall.”

You glance down at your arms, and surprisingly, he’s right𑁋one of the books tilted and threatening to fall down on the floor. However, before you could adjust them yourself, Jeonghan does it for you with ease, his hand brushing against yours as he steadies the books in your grasp. His touch lingers for a few moments longer, before pulling away, and your heart seems to trip on its own feet. 

“You’re still a bookworm,” he mentions with a small, almost wistful smile as he watches you adjust the books back into place.

You stiffen at the mention of it, the familiar nickname carrying with it the weight of all the memories you'd tried to bury. Bookworm. My little bookworm. A nickname he would shower on you with such affection. 

“Yeah,” You manage to say, the words feeling like a lie as soon as they escape past your lips, even if they aren’t. “I guess some things never change, right?”

Jeonghan hums lowly, crossing his arms together. “Right.”

The way his eyes soften when they meet yours is still the same, that tender look as if you’re the only person in the room, all before it all fell apart with broken promises and misunderstandings. 

But you’ve been down this road before, haven’t you? You know how this story ends.

You force a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and step back slightly, creating a sliver of space between you and Jeonghan.

When Seokmin and Joshua retrieve a tray of drinks, you all trail towards the corner table of the café. And Jeonghan sits in the chair right beside you.

“Y/N! Did Soonyoung and Mingyu tell you about the ski resort?” Seokmin pipes up brightly before taking a sip of his drink, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“They did.” You give a small smile. “Something like a little thing to celebrate the new year? I haven’t skied in ages. There were barely any things to do during winter when I was abroad.” 

“Well, you’re in for a treat,” Seokmin continues, clearly excited about the whole idea. “It’ll be a lot of fun! It’s just a little trip to unwind after the holidays. And it’s been way too long since we all hung out like that, so it’ll be fun catching up.”

You nod along, even though your mind isn’t fully there. Your attention is still on Jeonghan, whose quiet presence beside you is somehow louder than the conversation around the table. He’s just… there.

“You used to be pretty good at skiing, Y/N, if I remember right,” Joshua says, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“But that was years ago. I’m practically rubbish now,” You input in with a chuckle, your nose wrinkling with a weak laugh. “I doubt I’ll make it down the slopes without falling on my ass.”

“Don’t worry! We’ll be there to catch you. Probably. No promises,” Seokmin adds with a teasing grin. 

A faint laugh leaves you, the warmth of their banter making you feel a little less tense. It’s nice to be around familiar faces who were basically your entire life back then. 

“I’ll consider it,” You tell Seokmin with a knowing look. 

“Well, we’re taking it as a yes.” The pleased grin on Seokmin's face just widens even more. “You can’t back out now.”

As the evening flows by and conversation goes to more casual topics, you take the opportunity to dismiss yourself for the night. Seokmin and Joshua bid you goodbye with a couple of hugs. The chair squeaks as you push it in, shooting one last polite smile to the group before heading your way out of the café. 

“Y/N?”

Instinctively, you clench the books in your arms even tighter. Your heart lurches in your chest. Slowly, you turn around, and Jeonghan’s gaze is intent on you.

“Yeah?” You ask, the word suddenly shrinking around the two of you.

Jeonghan steps up to you, his hands slipping out of his pockets as he gives you a hesitant smile. You freeze up as you watch his hands come up to the scarf around your neck, and before you can react, he gently adjusts it, ensuring it’s more securely wrapped around you.  It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him𑁋so long since you’ve felt his touch, the way his fingers lightly brushed against your neck, so casual yet intimate. Then he brushes away a stray strand of hair that had landed on it, before pulling back to study you. 

“There,” he breathes out, the corners of his lip curling into a faint smirk. “Better.”

You lift a brow up. “What are you trying to do, Jeonghan?”

“Nothing,” he answers simply. “Just trying to make sure you don’t freeze to death, as your friend.”

“Friend?”

“As someone who cares about you.” Then he takes a pause, adding in, “As a friend.”

Friend. The word feels both oddly comforting and bittersweet. 

You don’t respond immediately, unsure of what to say. His words feel like a subtle invitation to reopen a door you thought you’d closed long ago. But you resist, keeping the distance between you, even though your body betrays you with a sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Right. Friend.” You offer him a tight-lipped smile. “I should go. Have a good night, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan opens his mouth like he’s about to say something more, but then he gives you a nod.

“Take care, little bookworm.” 

Dear 526, Now I’m imagining you smiling after reading my letters. I could certainly get used to that image in my head now. I followed your advice, and I’d consider it progress in a way, to keep it vaguely. I have a question though: Do you believe in second chances? And you are weird. You’re telling me you don’t freeze while sleeping? I’m an absolute abomination when I’m cold. I need to be covered in layers or else I’ll become a literal icicle. But you’re not weird in a bad way, perhaps in a pretty cute way.  Something about me? I don’t like eating candy that much. Take that as you will. Yours truly, - 017

To 017, You don’t even know what I look like. How could you possibly even imagine me smiling? For all you know, my smile could be absolutely horrendous and you wouldn’t even know it.  I’m glad you’re making progress. It sounds like you’re trying, and that’s more than a lot of people can say. Progress is progress, no matter how small, right? As for your question, I believe my answer would be… cautiously, yes. It’s tricky though. Second chances can be beautiful if people are willing to grow and learn from their mistakes. But other times, it can open the door to more hurt. It really depends on whether both sides are willing to meet in the middle. What about you? Do you believe in second chances? Not liking candy, though? That’s a red flag if I’ve ever heard one. What’s wrong with a little sugar now and then? You’re missing out, honestly. Chocolate, caramel, gummies? There has to be something, and I’ll get to the bottom of it. You’re stuck with me now.  I guess we’re doing complimentary closings now, - 526

017’s hallway is standing right before you.

It’s odd, really𑁋knowing that this mysterious penpal you’ve been exchanging letters for the past month or so is quite literally right below your feet, in arm’s reach if you really consider it. Your heart buzzes at the thought, a faint smile quirking up at your lips as you walk away from the hallway and into the outside world. 

You hope that 017 is having a good day, or feeling happy these days, and staying warm especially. 

Little do you know, the second you step outside, 017’s door opens, and you’re too far away to notice it. 

Visiting the holiday lights festival has always been a tradition within your friend group. The centre of the city is dressed up every year for the Christmas season, painting the snowfall with colourful lights that twinkle in the crisp winter air. It’s one of those moments where time seems to come to a standstill, a sight before the eyes like a scene straight out of those cheesy Hallmark movies.

This year, it’s especially meaningful. Everyone’s grown up, and while the group hasn’t always stayed as close as they used to be (or moreso, you were the one who chose to drift away), there’s a certain comfort in returning to old traditions, even if they’re not exactly the same anymore.

“Y/N, Y/N, look! They put up the giant Santa inflatable again!” Soonyoung exclaims, clutching at your arm and pointing up towards the sky, which stood perhaps a two-story tall Santa Claus standing proudly and illuminated in all its glory.

“That thing’s still here?” You tease playfully, eliciting a cheesy laugh. “Thought they would have retired the old man by now. He deserves a break.”

Soonyoung lightly shoves you in the arm. “You’re heartless.”

As the group meanders within the festival, you find yourself trailing alongside Soonyoung and Mingyu, with Joshua and Seokmin behind, and… Jeonghan there as well, as he always is, but not enough for you. He’s quick to catch your sneaking glances towards him, meeting you with a knowing look and faint smile, and you have to force yourself to look away, ignoring the way your stomach twists slightly. 

The holidays are supposed to be a time for joys to be let loose, to celebrate the year ending while anticipating for the next one to come. You can’t help but remember the days as you galloped down the street, grins glowing brighter than the lights themselves as you held hands with the man who used to hold your heart so preciously, so sweetly, so tightly like he never wanted to let go before everything flipped upside down. 

Laughter floats around you, the sound of the holiday lights flickering against the night sky, and yet it all feels almost distant𑁋like you’re observing your life from the outside.

The giant Christmas tree is always the grand sight of the festival. Families and couples all gather around it, admiring its dazzling display of lights and ornaments, and capturing the moment in photos. The scents of cinnamon and pine fill the atmosphere, pieces of fallen tinsel scattered around the icy ground, and for a brief moment, you close your eyes, allowing the night to surround you.

“Did you make a wish?”

The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to see Jeonghan coming up beside you, snowflakes settled in his blonde hair. His hands are tucked into his coat pockets, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the Christmas lights. You hadn’t realised you closed your eyes that long, let alone make him wander away from the group to join you. 

The truth is, you hadn’t made a wish. You hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t made any during Christmas when you were abroad. Wishes felt like something you used to believe in, back when things were simpler and life didn’t feel so heavy. Back when Jeonghan’s hand in yours felt like the only wish you’d ever need.

“I didn’t,” You reply nimbly. “Did you?”

Jeonghan smiles faintly, his breath visible in the cold air as he exhales. “I might have. But you’re not supposed to say it out loud, right? Otherwise, it won’t come true.”

You scoff a little at that. “Of course you’d say that.”

His smile grows wider, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, one you know all too well. It’s the kind of look that always meant he had something up his sleeve.

Jeonghan chuckles softly, taking another step toward you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Guess you’ll never know then.”

You both stand there for a moment, side by side, as the crowd flows freely around you. The world feels a little quieter in that bubble between the two of you. If you listened closely, perhaps, there’s words being said within the unsaid, lingering emotions simmering beneath the surface of the snow that paints the ground. 

The cold air nips at your skin, and yet, you don’t move away from Jeonghan, even as the heaviness settles in your chest. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” You suddenly say, breaking the moment. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flicker toward you, his expression softening slightly as if he wasn’t entirely sure what you meant. “Do what?”

You chew at your lip.

“Stand here with me,” You murmur, bringing your eyes down to your feet. “Pretend that everything’s okay. Pretend that this𑁋” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, your words faltering as you struggle to voice the truth you’ve been hiding. “𑁋is normal, when it’s not.”

The silence thickens around the two of you. He doesn’t immediately respond, his breaths coming out in mists in the cold air, and for a second, you regret saying it at all.

“I’m not pretending,” he says, his tone gentle. “I’m just here.”

“But you’re𑁋we’re𑁋” A lump forms in your throat. “This isn’t right.”

“So do you expect me to just walk away?”

“I expect you to understand that this𑁋us𑁋doesn’t just go back to how it was before. You can’t just show up and𑁋” You cut yourself off, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. “You can’t just act like you didn’t abandon me back then, like I didn’t give everything I had and you threw it all away.”

You watch the way his expression rapidly morphs into a million different conflicted shades𑁋surprise, regret, a flicker of pain, something else you can’t quite place𑁋but he doesn’t move away, lips parting as if he’s about to speak, but he doesn’t say anything at first. The sting in your chest feels as raw as it did the day everything fell apart, and the day you left your past behind you by boarding that plane.

“You’re right,” is all he says, quietly. “I hurt you. Back then, I… I thought I did the right thing by𑁋”

“By pushing me away?” You counter back harshly. “You didn’t do the right thing; you did what was easiest for you.”

Jeonghan winces at your words. “I never stopped𑁋”

“Don’t,” You interrupt sharply, shaking your head. “Don’t say you never stopped loving me. Don’t romanticise what you did, Jeonghan. You stopped when it mattered most. And now you’re here, acting like we can just pick up where we left off, as if nothing happened. That’s not fair to me. To you. To us.” 

This time, Jeonghan chooses to stay silent, and you do too. The snow continues to fall around the two of you, making you bat your eyelashes rapidly, the heat in your eyes threatening to spill over. You force yourself to bite down on your lower lip to keep from breaking. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Then you look over at Jeonghan, really look at him, and for a split second, you wonder if you could ever forgive him. But right now, you’re tired. Tired of holding it all in, tired of pretending that time could undo the hurt, that this moment could be anything other than a reminder of what you both lost.

You’re a coward, Yoon Jeonghan. 

“Hey, guys! Come on, we’re going to take pictures in front of the Christmas tree!” Soonyoung’s voice pops in and shatters the glass you and Jeonghan were standing on. 

The two of you turn towards the group, who were all huddled in front of the giant Christmas tree, hands waving excitedly to both of you. There’s a part of you that wants to walk away, to escape from the bittersweetness the world is raining down on you right now, but you don’t have the heart to𑁋your friends deserve to feel happy today. 

Jeonghan’s gaze shifts to Soonyoung, his expression unreadable for a moment before he turns back to you. His lips part like he’s going to say something else, but again, words fall short. Instead, he just gives you a quiet nod, and the two of you trail your way toward the group. 

But even as you walk, a part of you knows it’s not over. It may never be.

To 017, I’m drunk right now, like can barely-walk-straight kind of shit. I guess I’m writing to you because you’re the one who’s been there. And I don’t know why, but I feel like you understand. Even though we’ve never met, it feels like you do. You ever wonder if you can really fix something that’s broken? Like, can you really put two pieces of glass together and pretend it wasn’t cracked? I don’t think you can. Not really. Even if it’s glued together, you can always see the line. I don’t know if I believe in second chances. I don’t know if I should. But I know that I still care. And that messes with my head. Maybe I’m just holding onto something because it was the best I ever had, even if it wasn’t perfect. Maybe I’m just afraid of being alone. I don’t know. Fuck, my brain hurts.  Goodnight, - 526

A small package hits the tip of your toes the second you step out the door.

You stare down at it, mind still foggy, picking it up in your hands to inspect over it carefully. Taking it back inside your apartment, you set it on your kitchen counter, and your head is still pounding as painfully as ever, clearly not thinking straight when you tear it open without thinking that you’re ripping someone else’s package. 

Inside, there’s a bag, the contents of it containing a tiny bottle of Ibuprofen, a plastic bowl of instant ramen, and a water bottle, along with a note that had fallen straight to the bottom. 

Second chances don’t always look like what we expect. But maybe, sometimes, the cracks are what make something beautiful. Take these for your hangover and count your smiles today. And as always, stay warm. Carry this letter around to bring some luck to your week, if you wish. - 017 P.S. Credits to Google.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the piece of paper in your hands. Your heart pounds a little harder, the fog from your hangover lifting just a bit as the words sink in. The gift is simple, thoughtful, but it’s the note that really gets to you, and you find yourself smiling for the first time this morning.

017, just who exactly are you? You let out a sigh, neatly folding the piece of paper up. And how do you manage to get under my skin so easily?

“Yoon Jeonghan, you’ve been staring at the door like a truck is gonna crash in and kill us.”

Jeonghan chuckles, letting out a groan from how he’s been practically leaning over the counter for an eternity. He wipes his already-clean hands on his apron, clenching and unclenching them, a crack from his knuckles breaking the tenseness he only feels within the cozy walls of the café.

“I’m not staring,” Jeonghan mutters in reply. 

“Yeah, and I’m the President of Korea,” Seokmin quips wittily, washing away a dirty mug in the sink. “No wonder you have back problems, hyung.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, straightening up and stretching his arms above his head. “My back’s fine, thanks for the concern.” He tilts his head toward Seokmin with a playful grin. “And for the record, if you were the President, this country would be in serious trouble.”

“Excuse me!” Seokmin exclaims, bringing a hand to his heart as if it was just absolutely crushed. “I’d make a fine President.”

“Ah, whatever you say, Master Lee,” Jeonghan jests teasingly, before returning his gaze towards the door. 

Behind him, Joshua is busy stacking clean cups in the corner, before peering up at his fellow co-workers with a sly look.

“You still love them, don’t you?” 

Jeonghan feels his body stiffen to the words, and the only thing he could do to cope with it is to simply chuckle, to simply pretend that the question didn’t blow a bullet through his chest, shrug it off like he hasn’t been thinking about you constantly for three fucking years. He’s been convinced that you won’t ever show up back in his life𑁋but here you are, and your presence is constantly punching at his throat.

There’s an almost dreamy lift to his lips as he stares at the door once again.

“Am I really that transparent?” he questions, but more to himself than to Joshua and Seokmin, his fingertips tapping rhythmically against the counter. “It’s childish, right? To desire something that you let slip right through your fingers?”

“Maybe not childish,” Joshua answers firmly. “You’re only human, after all.”

Jeonghan almost wants to laugh at that. When his gaze drifts back to the door, he can imagine you walking through it again, like you had so many times before, with your hand tightly clasped in his. 

For three years, he’s been carrying around the guilt and regret of letting you go and pushing you away because he was so afraid of dragging you down with him, when all you’ve done was love him at his best and at his worst. For three years, he’s been wondering what could have been if he hadn’t made the choice to walk away.

For three years, he’s never stopped loving you. 

The three of them begin to tend to their closing duties. The snow continues to fall outside, the night beginning its own routine lulling the world into a blanket of peace. Jeonghan continues to wipe down the tables and place the chairs in their proper positions on top of them, yet he keeps glancing at the door.

But he… knows better. He should know better. Things are different now.

“Hyung, you really need to stop doing that,” Seokmin calls out from the sink.

Jeonghan blinks, the weight of his thoughts snapping him back to the present. “What?”

“Staring at the door,” Seokmin continues, chuckling. “It’s not healthy.”

It’s easy for Seokmin to say that, of course. Easy for his friends to worry. He doesn’t have a history with you, doesn’t carry the weight of the unspoken words that still cling to Jeonghan’s chest like an unhealed scar. He doesn’t know how it feels to have everything slip through his fingers, to realise too late that he made the wrong choice.

Jeonghan lets out a sigh and throws away the dirty rag in a trash bin, gathering all the trash bags in one area to throw away later before they leave. Seokmin is preparing three cups of hot coffee to-go since he’s finished with his duties, and Joshua is finishing tidying up the counter. 

Seokmin is the first to leave, snatching his coffee on the way out, then Joshua bids his goodbyes for the night. Jeonghan fixes on his thick coat and snatches his keys from his pocket, stepping out into the cold night, not before turning the lights off and locking the door to the café. The neon sign above the door flashes to darkness. 

The snow crunches beneath his shoes as he steps back, taking a sip of hot coffee Seokmin had prepared and starting his way home. 

“Jeonghan?”

His entire body freezes at that voice, the familiar tone cutting through the stillness of the night. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, but he does anyway. The cup of coffee in his hands suddenly feels colder than the night itself. And even in the falling snow, you still glow beautifully brighter than the streetlamps illuminating the icy roads. 

“Y/N?” he calls out to you. “What… What are you doing here?”

You adjust the beanie on your head, wiping off the snow that stuck to it. “Uh, was just… passing by, you know.”

Jeonghan hums at that, faintly smiling at how you pull your coat tighter around yourself. “As always?”

“Yeah.”

You both stand there for a moment, the world around you paused in that quiet, snowy space, as if the universe itself is waiting for something, anything, to happen.

“Are you heading home?” You ask, nearly regretting randomly asking that the second it left your mouth. But Jeonghan only nods, still holding his coffee with both hands, his expression unreadable in the dim streetlight.

“Mhm,” he answers softly, gaze flickering from the cup to you. “It’s been a long day. You?”

“Doing the same.”

The awkwardness lingering in the air is suffocating, but neither of you choose to move𑁋don’t want to move, perhaps.

“Would…” Jeonghan starts, tightening his hold of the cup in his hand. “...you want to walk with me?”

There’s that hesitation again, the kind of feeling that questions whether this thread between the two of you will strengthen or break off like it did before, but there’s something warm in Jeonghan’s presence, like in the way his sleepy eyes are holding yours in that familiar gentleness, in the way he’s waiting for you to answer.

And you decide against the tug at your heartstrings to walk with him.

“Okay,” You breathe out. “Let’s walk.”

It’s natural in the way you both fall into rhythm together, with Jeonghan on the side closest to the street, just like back then where he’d insist to be on that side to follow those drama clichés, and you’d threaten to push him into traffic just to prove a point. And he’d counter you back with a cheesy kiss to the cheek and your hand tightly grasped in his. Now, there’s a bit of distance. But not too much.

The walk is simple, with the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet and your breath curling into the crisp cold. You both keep a steady pace, not saying much in between, but somehow feeling the years of separation fade, even just for a moment.

“You grew your hair out,” You comment, breaking the silence. “I… noticed when I first came back.”

Jeonghan chuckles softly, running a hand through his now longer, blonde hair. “Seems like I did. Didn’t realise it until I saw my reflection one day.” His voice comes out light. “I think it suits me, though.”

You smile, a small, bittersweet curve of your lips. “It does. It… looks nice.”

“Yeah?” he quips teasingly, the corners of his mouth upturning. “Say that again.”

“No.” You peer down at the ground, at the way your steps are in sync with each other. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

He laughs quietly, that familiar sound that once felt like home. “I’m not trying to get anywhere.”

“Just making conversation?” You question, glancing curiously up at him. His gaze softens, the kind of softness that feels like a warm ember in the cold night.

“Maybe,” he only replies. 

This is strange𑁋this night, this moment. How you could go from pushing each other away to being pulled back like a magnet. It’s uncomfortable, but oddly not; worrisome at how natural you fall into rhythm with one another, yet different enough to make your chest tighten.

“Hmm, you haven’t changed,” Jeonghan says. “Still stubborn.”

You shoot him an almost-glare. “And you’re insufferably smug. Some things don’t change, huh?”

“Maybe not,” Jeonghan admits, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “But some things do.”

“Tell me then,” You add in pensively, tone shifting to something serious, almost fragile in the stillness of the night. “Tell me what’s changed and what hasn’t.”

Before Jeonghan could almost his mouth to answer, you feel something warm slip into the pocket of your coat and wrap around your hand, and your eyes nearly widen when you look ahead to realise you nearly walk into something, or someone. A man sidles past the two of you, footsteps careless and staggering as he brushes past you both, grumbling something under his breath that you can’t catch.

When you snap back to reality, your eyes dart to Jeonghan’s hand inside your pocket, and you feel his fingers wrapping gently around yours, your shoulder brushing against his as he pulls you closer to him. The heat from his hand seeps through your coat and spreads throughout your limbs. Your thoughts are telling you to pull away, and your heart is aching for something else entirely.

You listen to the latter.

Jeonghan doesn’t look at you immediately, his hand still enclosed around yours. You feel the way his fingers twitch as if he’s unsure whether to let go or to hold on tighter. He can feel something brush against his skin in your pocket𑁋a piece of paper, or something of the sorts. He doesn’t question it. His breath fogs in the air as he exhales, eyes on the ground for a moment before they finally meet yours, uncertainty flashing across his features.

It’s almost overwhelming, but there’s something in the way your fingers fit together, like they’re supposed to be there. Like they’ve always been meant to.

“Is your question answered?” Jeonghan asks softly, quietly. 

And maybe your mind nearly goes haywire at that. Because you don’t want to see him, but you miss him; you’re supposed to hate him, but you long for him all at once. Like candy, sweet yet bitter, cloying yet addictive, something that sticks to your heart and makes you ache with desire and regret all at once.

You think your question is answered.

When you feel his hand release from yours, the piece of paper from your pocket flutters down to the ground. Jeonghan watches closely as you pick the paper up from the snow and shove back into your pocket. He doesn’t say anything about it.

As the two of you reach a particular building, you both stop together. 

“This is my stop,” Jeonghan tells you. 

You gaze up at the building, before casting your eyes back to Jeonghan. “You live here?”

“Mhm,” he hums in response. “Why?”

“I…” Your voice trails off as you hesitate, unsure how to finish the thought. “I… I live here too.”

Silence. Absolute silence at that. The thought that knowing Jeonghan could be living even just a singular door down from you sends your thoughts spiraling. Out of all the places in this city, out of every street and apartment complex, it has to be here?

A flicker of surprise runs past his features, his lips parting slightly before curving into a small, almost amused smile. And it nearly makes you give in too.

“Small world, huh?” Jeonghan murmurs, breaking the silence. 

“Too small,” You reply, blinking at the building in disbelief and then back to him. A small laugh leaves you.

Jeonghan cocks his head to the side, still continuing to gaze at you. When you catch his eyes, there’s a softness there, like he’s trying to search through your face and rememorise every part of it again. You’re smiling, albeit faint𑁋the type of smile that doesn’t entirely reach your eyes yet still seems to light up your features. The more he thinks about it, it’s quite literally the first smile he’s seen of yours in… years. 

“You’re smiling,” he points out.

You zip your mouth up. “No, I’m not. I’m just cold.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Jeonghan muses. “To smile around me.” 

When he steps a tad bit closer to you, you feel like you’ll nearly lose your balance as you step back, your heart hammering in your chest. Then Jeonghan stops in his place, letting out a long sigh, and turns his body towards the apartment building.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” he demands lightly. “And stay warm. Smile more too. It looks good on you.”

For some reason, the familiarity of those words send shivers down your spine, but you brush it off quickly.

No, it’s not him, You think to yourself. Right?

You clear your throat. “Yeah… You too.” Then you face the building as well. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Dear 526, Merry Christmas! I hope you’re doing well and staying warm, and counting your smiles as well. Do you have any plans for the holidays? Perhaps attending a Christmas dinner or chilling by the window with a cup of hot chocolate? I don’t have that much, other than a gathering with friends which I’m not sure if I’m exactly looking forward to or not. You’ve mentioned in your last letter that you consider me as someone who understands. I’m very flattered you think of me that way, but I want you to know that I just don’t understand. I care about you. Maybe a bit more than I think. I care about how you’re doing, about the little things that make you happy, the things that make you sad. Sorry. It’s nearly two in the morning as I’m writing this, and I guess I’ve been reflecting on everything we’ve exchanged thus far. Memories, second chances, little details about each other… Let me just be brave and say this: I’ve grown pretty fond of all that. Of you also, too. Anyway, I won’t take up too much of your time. I just wanted to send this out for you to read whenever you get the chance. I hope you’ve been smiling. Even if you don’t always feel like it, I hope you have something that makes you want to. Perhaps we’ll walk down the same hallway sometime? - 017

To 017, Merry Christmas to you as well. I’ve been staying quite warm these days thankfully, snuggled under my duvet as I’m writing this letter. I hope your plans with your friends go well if you go. I have similar plans with mine too. Funny coincidence, don’t you think? But honestly, a cup of hot chocolate by the window is quite irresistible. And about what you said… about being brave. I think you already are. Braver than you might think. You’ve shared parts of yourself with me; I’ve shared parts of myself with you. That takes courage. So here’s me trying to be brave too: Would you like to meet up? I know a good place. - 526

I want to know who you are, 017, You think to yourself as you drop the letter in their mailbox.

A hand planting on the door stops you from fully exiting your apartment building. 

You glance up, and Jeonghan is right there𑁋breathing heavily and uneven, as if he had just run two whole miles trying to catch up to you. 

“I…” You start, clearing your throat. “Good morning to you?”

A sheepish smile upturns his lips, and he pulls back from his iron grip on the door, fully standing himself right next to you. 

“Good morning,” he repeats softly, his somewhat sleepy morning voice reminiscent of the groggy days you used to share together. “Heading somewhere?”

“I was,” You retort back calmly. “Until you stopped me from doing so. You?”

“Opening shift at the dear old café.” Jeonghan chuckles out tiredly, like he’s stayed up until three in the morning tossing and turning in his bed. “Not sure if I want to deal with the world’s caffeine needs at the moment.”

“Yeah. You look horrendous.”

“I didn’t come here to be personally attacked,” Jeonghan says with a mock offense, though his smile is playful, eyes still a little sleepy but soft nonetheless.

The two of you stand there for a few long moments, letting the silence simply stretch between you both. You find yourself glancing at him more than you probably should, tracing the way his blonde hair falls messily over his forehead and sticks up in all sorts of directions, the way his hands are dangling to the sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them.

This time, Jeonghan is the one to clear his throat. 

“You could stop by for a quick coffee before you go… wherever you’re going, if you’d like, or anytime today,” he offers, his voice coming out almost timid, hesitant.

Your chest tightens to the invitation, and you divert your eyes away from Jeonghan. You know he’s not pressuring you, not forcing anything. It’s just a suggestion, a simple offer. Even though the two of you are floating between this vast space of being friends and what you once were, you know where it could lead. Your mind races to hold onto the distance, to remind yourself that you’re not quite there yet. Not with him. Not at this moment.

“I… I have plans today. With someone,” You respond lowly, a pang of guilt hitting your chest when the words leave your mouth. It’s almost a half-lie and a half-truth. You are meeting someone today𑁋017. 

The decipherable expression on Jeonghan's face shifts into a slow nod of realisation. 

“Ah,” he breathes out. The disappointment isn’t difficult to miss. His shoulders sag to the ground. “I see.”

A knot ties itself in your stomach when you see his features falter. 

“Jeonghan, I didn’t mean to𑁋” You begin, but Jeonghan interrupts you, the soft smile on his lips still there, though now it looks a little sad.

“No, it’s fine,” he says quietly, running a hand through his hair, his posture slumping a little. “I get it. Another time, then?”

You could only blink, pursing your lips in a thin line. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Jeonghan nudges your arm lightly with his elbow. “I’ll see you around.”

With that, he dismisses himself out of the building, and you just find yourself standing there, floating. But you can’t stop thinking about Jeonghan. And you can’t stop thinking about 017 either.

Boo’s Sandwiches is the place you recommended to meet up at. 

It’s a locally owned place located in the heart of the city. You’ve gone a few times with your friend group because Soonyoung is friends with the owner’s son, and you always considered it as another one of your little hideaways when life got too hectic. 

You arrive earlier than expected, nerves twisting in your stomach as you gather up a menu and sit down at a table at the very-most corner of the place. The warm scent of toasted breads fills up your nostrils, the hum of conversation taking place around you as you nervously scan over the menu. 

“Hey, Y/N! I heard you were back in the city,” a loud voice rings to your ears, and you pick your head up to see Boo Seungkwan dashing over to you. He leans an arm against the table as you adjust yourself. “Heard you lived abroad for a bit. Like… three years or something?”

“Yeah. Three years,” You reply with a chuckle. “But I moved back just a few months ago actually. Guess the city was really my calling.”

You’ve gotten to know Boo Seungkwan a bit over the years. Captain of the badminton team in college, a brief side hustle of his own podcast on Spotify at some point where he gave way too honest ratings about different music tracks, and a resident gossiper who seems to know what’s happening to everyone and everything. He mingled in and out of your friend group over time, but you like to think you’ve become well-acquainted with him. He has the type of personality that’s easy to be around.

You catch up with him a bit before he bids you an energetic goodbye and has to race back to work. The time passes by rather swiftly as you shoot the occasional glance towards the door, hoping to see the one person who has been hiding behind their veil of anonymity. But even as the snowfall outside blankets the ground and strangers file inside, you don’t catch any sight of who 017 could be.

They could be anyone𑁋from the man standing in line with his dark hair and long coat to the woman in a red scarf sitting at the window unwrapping her sandwich. Anyone could be the individual you’ve been exchanging these letters with, and yet, none of those options seem to align at all.

Your shoulders fully deflate when the time on your phone strikes the next hour.

Somehow you were dumb enough to not ask for 017’s number before agreeing to meet up, only agreeing to the time they wrote to you yesterday in their letter. Now you’re sitting here, feeling like a fool for thinking everything would fall into place.

A cup of hot tea sits barely touched on your table, steam curling lazily into the air. You try to distract yourself from the disappointment, staring at the menu and pretending to care about the choices on the laminated paper in front of you. But your thoughts keep drifting back to the empty seat across from you. Maybe something came up. Maybe 017 didn’t want to show up after all. You don’t know.

There’s a second of hesitation before you finally give in with a defeated sigh and stand up, leaving a tip on the table right next to your cup of tea. You say a rushed farewell to Seungkwan who scrambles with a tray in his hands when you’re already out the door.

And just as you’re more than halfway across the street, your back turned toward the scene behind you, the door to the sandwich shop chimes open. 

Seungkwan lifts his head to greet the customer, but when he catches sight of the figure, all he can do is give an unpleasant roll of his eyes when he puts the puzzle pieces together.  

“You’re late, mystery boy,” he says to the figure, who appears breathless from running. 

Jeonghan swallows a lump in his throat, immediately shooting his eyes around the place and outside the windows. 526 had already left.

“Fuck,” he curses to himself, before hurrying out the door once more.

You find yourself jerking awake when Soonyoung’s head lands on your shoulder, his body almost crushing yours against the passenger door. When the car hits a random bump on the road, Soonyoung jumps up with an annoyed whine. 

“Can you be any more reckless?” Soonyoung groans rubbing his eyes and adjusting his seatbelt as he glares at Mingyu through the rear-view mirror. “If we die, it’s all because of you.”

Mingyu just chuckles, not even to take his eyes off the road. “Relax, hyung. I’d be rich for the amount of times I’ve driven your ass everywhere.”

Soonyoung pouts dramatically and lays his head back down on your shoulder. You definitely cannot fall back to sleep now.

As the ski resort begins to come into view, you gaze out the window, catching sight of the snow-covered trees and the scenic mountainous view. The ski resort is still a little way off, but it’s big enough that you can already spot a few bright buildings in the distance. Mingyu turns the wheel smoothly, leading you all into the parking lot.

You see people carrying their own ski and snowboarding gear as they head inside the resort. When Mingyu parks the car, all three of you crawl out to retrieve your belongings from the trunk.

“Seokmin and them should be coming, right?” Soonyoung asks while heaving a large duffle bag over his shoulder, eyes scanning the area as he stretches his arms out to shake off the sleep.

“Yeah, they said they’re about twenty minutes behind us,” Mingyu responds, tossing a backpack over one shoulder and adjusting his gloves. “We can check in first and meet them at the lodge later.”

You tug your scarf tighter around yourself, your breath misting up in the cold winter air. It’s been years since you’ve had a proper trip like this, and seeing all the families and people around you hits with a shot of nostalgia. You really aren’t sure about your skiing skills after so long, but it wouldn’t hurt to try at all.

The three of you enter into the lobby, a large, fancy-looking chandelier illuminating the vast space warmly. You shake off the snow that had been caught on your clothes and glance around the reception area. The resort has a cozy yet elegant charm, with its wood-paneled walls, plush armchairs, and the faint smell of hot cocoa wafting through the air. Guests are scattered across the lobby𑁋some checking in at the front desk, others lounging near the fireplace, sipping drinks and chatting quietly.

“Let’s get our room keys!” Soonyoung grins, already making a beeline toward the front desk like he’s on a mission. “Shotgun the bed closest to the heater!”

“Unfair,” Mingyu huffs, rolling his eyes as he trails after him, leaving you to smile softly at their antics.

You find out that the rooms you’re staying in require two people, and it already seems like Mingyu and Soonyoung have already chosen to stay in the same one together…

Seokmin, Joshua, and Jeonghan arrive about half an hour later, the cold air ushering them in as they clamber into the lobby with bags all in their grasp. Joshua greets everyone with a warm smile, his hands tucked deep into his pockets, while Seokmin immediately bounds over to Soonyoung with an enthusiastic hug that nearly sends them both toppling over onto the ground. 

You don’t miss the way Jeonghan’s eyes flicker toward you for just a second longer than they probably should when he approaches.

“So, two people per room. Joshua and Seokmin, are you guys rooming together?” Mingyu asks.

“Yeah. We are.” Seokmin says brightly, lounging an arm around Joshua’s shoulders.

“Okay. So that just leaves…”

Jeonghan steps up next to you, his arms crossed together. “Guess we’re rooming together.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, surprise written all over your face. “Wait, what?”

“They paired us up,” Jeonghan shrugs, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his expression. “Seokmin and Joshua are together, and someone has to deal with Soonyoung. That leaves us.”

There’s a twist to your gut at his words𑁋you and Jeonghan… in the same room? The last time you shared a room with him was when you were both still together, and all those memories of being tangled up in the same bed with him comes rushing to your head. You feel yourself hesitate for a moment, shooting daggers at your friends in protest, but none of them seem fazed at all.

“Okay,” You finally mutter under your breath. “Let’s go then.”

The room itself is quite cozy. There’s a large window that overlooks the snowy view outside, and a wooden stand where a medium-sized TV stood. The warmth from the heater settles around you as you drop your bags, and your jaw drops straight through the floor.

There’s only one bed.

“You can take the side by the heater,” Jeonghan tells you as he plants his bags right next to yours.

You shake your head at that. “No, you can take it. You get cold easily.” 

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at you, then a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, because of course you still remember everything about him. He brushes past you and sits down at the edge of the bed with the heater next to him, stretching out his legs with a contented sigh. You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you start unpacking your things.

It’s frustrating how easy it is for him to just breathe and slip under your skin, how his presence fills the room so naturally and effortlessly. 

“Y/N,” Jeonghan calls out from the bed. “You don’t have to avoid me, you know.” 

“I’m not,” You mutter flatly. After all, this trip was only for a couple of nights, you’ve dealt with much worse. “Let’s just make it through this weekend.” 

When the two of you finish unpacking, a knock at your door startles. Soonyoung pokes his head through the crack and peers at the two of you. 

“We’re about to get dinner downstairs,” he announces to the both of you. “Y’all wanna come?”

You shift your eyes towards Jeonghan, who only gives a nonchalant shrug, already standing up from the bed. Then you turn your head back to Soonyoung.

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

There’s a lot of people at the slopes by the time the group gathers near the rentals. Soonyoung is the first to retrieve a pair and quickly put on his gear, a skip in his step as he waits for the rest of you to finish. 

“Guys, hurry up! Anyone want to hit the black diamond with me?” 

Soonyoung is met with ten eyes glaring back at him, all shaking their heads in unison. 

“I… I think I’d rather save my head, thank you,” Mingyu proses while stuffing his hands in a pair of gloves. 

After putting on some protective gear for the cold weather, you place your head into a helmet, making sure the straps are snug at your chin, but you struggle a bit with tightening it. The cold bites at your cheeks, but the layers of your jacket and scarf do their job keeping the rest of you warm. Your fingers fumble a little as you secure your gloves, and when you glance up for a moment, you notice Jeonghan coming right up to you. 

Then he comes down to your level, reaching out to adjust the straps on your helmet. His gloved hands briefly brush softly against your jawline, the momentary touch sending a jump to your stomach. 

You huff out a breath. “Jeonghan𑁋”

“Shh,” he shushes you reassuringly. “Just… let me.”

Concentration is etched into his features as he adjusts the strap, then a click echoes in your ears. 

Jeonghan steps back from you, his eyes still not leaving yours. The space between the two of you seems smaller than it should be.

“Better?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” You murmur quietly, hands twitching within your thick gloves. “Thanks.”

The fresh scent of nature fills your lungs as you lunge up the mountain with your gear in hand. You take a moment to adjust to the surroundings, feeling the nerves creep in again. It’s been so long since you’ve skied, and while the equipment feels familiar, you can’t shake the anxiety bubbling in your chest.

The group makes their way toward the beginner slopes first. However, it doesn’t take more than a second for Soonyoung to practically leap off the edge, hollering on the way down. Seokmin follows after him, not as confident but equally enthusiastic. Mingyu stays back, offering a steadying hand to Joshua, who wobbles precariously as he tries to stand upright on his skis.

You’re still standing at the very top, an iron grip on the poles in your hands as you gaze down the mountain. It wasn’t very far down, the pistes itself were wide and not that steep, but your heart still races as though you’re about to dive off a cliff.

“You’re nervous,” Jeonghan’s voice pops in and interrupts your anxious thoughts.

“I’m not,” You lie flatly.

Jeonghan doesn’t buy it. He steps closer, his skis gliding effortlessly on the snow until he’s right beside you.

“Bend your knees a little more,” he instructs you gently. “Make sure your weight is distributed evenly. Relax your body.”

You nearly want to roll your eyes at his unsolicited advice, but the encouraging tone in his voice keeps you from snapping back. Instead, you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. Jeonghan leans slightly forward on his own skis, demonstrating the posture he’s suggesting. His form looks easy and natural, as though skiing is second nature to him.

“Come on,” he coaxes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

You groan at his tone as you replicate his position, bending your knees slightly and loosening your grip on the ski poles. Leaning forward a bit more, you shoot a glance at Jeonghan, who was only watching you with amusement.

“Now, do what your heart desires right now,” Jeonghan continues. “The path is clear. Trust yourself, and just fly.” 

You swallow thickly at that, feeling the cold air fill your lungs. Do what your heart desires. 

When you gaze down the slope, it hits you for the first time today that you don’t feel out of place𑁋that you can just let go. 

“Jeonghan?”

He faces towards you. “Hmm?” 

“I…” Stop messing with my goddamn head. “If I fall, you better not laugh at me.”

Jeonghan just chuckles, slowly trudging his way right to the edge of the slope. And without a second thought, he pushes off first, the last thing you see is a grin splitting his face. You watch as he glides through down the slope effortlessly, carving graceful lines in the snow as he speeds away. 

Letting out one last exhale, you push yourself off after him, and your heart races as you struggle to find balance. At first, it’s not perfect𑁋you wobble slightly, and your skis cross for a second𑁋but you manage to regain yourself, nothing but thrill blooming through your chest.

The wind brushes against your face as you begin to pick up speed, wanting to catch up with Jeonghan𑁋to be beside him, to be with him. Whatever tension within your body had begun to disappear; whatever lingering thoughts of unease you’ve had about the past months melt away with the sounds of your skis shooting through the snow; whatever thoughts about Jeonghan that you don’t have the guts to confront are replaced by sheer joy.

Because for the first time in a while, you feel like you can finally breathe. You’re not worried about falling anymore. You’re just following Jeonghan, feeling the distance between you both narrow. The past feels far away now. 

You push yourself harder, determined to reach him, your skis carving deeper into the snow with each turn. 

When Jeonghan looks over his shoulder and catches sight of you coming up to him, you could only meet his eyes back with a smile. A warm one. The first one in a very long time. 

The bottom of the slope starts coming into view and the speed picks up as you race down the final stretch. The excitement pulses through you, the wind whistling past your ears as you find yourself skiing right beside Jeonghan. 

But just as you’re nearing the very end, a sudden shift in your balance catches you by surprise. Your skis scrape harshly against the snow, possibly hitting some kind of bump hidden in the ground, and your body starts to tumble forward. The world tilts sharply as you lose grip on one of your poles, and then wham! your body falls forward into the soft snow.

A surprised laugh bursts out from your lips as you lie sprawled out on the ground, blinking up at the blue sky above you, snow falling down around you like confetti. You’re mostly laughing at yourself, the adrenaline still coursing through your body. Snow sticks to your clothes and body as you struggle to sit yourself back up, groaning lightly from the fall.

A minute later, Jeonghan halts to a smooth stop right next to you, peering down at you with a breathless grin.

“You okay?” he asks, extending a gloved hand towards you.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” You murmur out, hesitating for a second at his open hand waiting for you. 

You take the leap and grab his hand, letting him pull you up, but the moment you get yourself to stand, your knees cave in beneath you. The world tilts once more as your body falls on top of Jeonghan, the two of you collapsing in the snow together with a soft thud. The chill from the snow seeps even more through your clothes, but there’s also Jeonghan’s warmth too attempting to break in. Neither of you seem to mind. 

His arms are wrapped around your waist firmly, your chest pressed awkwardly against his and your limbs tangled together. Even when you attempt to push yourself off him a little so that you aren’t crushing him, he still holds you, and you let him.

Your eyes lock together as you gaze down at him, over his flushed cheeks and strands of hair that have fallen loose from his helmet. Your breaths are unsteady as you both simply just lie together, faces just mere inches away from each other.

Jeonghan’s lips curl up, his eyes briefly falling to a close. His grip around your waist refuses to loosen.

“I’ve missed this.”

His voice is almost too soft for you to hear, yet it’s the only thing you could hear. The world had muted itself just for this moment.

For a moment, everything feels like it used to𑁋like you’re not exes, not two people who let the silence break you apart, but just the two of you again. The two of you who laughed, who loved, who knew each other in a way no one else did. 

Your breath hitches at his words, and you open your mouth to say something, anything, but it all dies on your tongue when he opens his eyes back up to look at you. It all becomes overwhelming, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being tugged in two different directions𑁋towards him, and away from him. 

Reluctance plagues your movements as you finally push yourself off him, his arms falling to his sides as he watches you brush the snow off your clothes.

“I…” Your voice breaks in an instant, and when you lift your head up to gaze forward, you let out a sigh. “Come on… The others are waiting for us.”

All Jeonghan can do is give a nod, standing back up with you. The two of you head back towards the rest of the group.

Dear 526, I’m so sorry. I really am. We were supposed to meet but the entire day had just gone absolutely wrong, and I ended up being late.  I know that it’s a very lame excuse to make, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away or at all. But just know that everything I’ve written to you has been nothing but the truth. I’ve grown fond of you. I care about you. I always have. And I think I know who you are, 526. And no, I’m not just guessing. I think I’ve known for a while now. It’s like the feeling you get when you hear a song you haven’t listened to in years and it takes you right back to the exact moment you first heard it, or when you walk into a room that feels so familiar and you realise: this is home. I can hear your voice in my mind when I read your letters, and see your smiles in the words you choose. We never really had a proper goodbye, did we? Maybe we’re writing these letters to make sense of the past we left behind. I think you’ve always known too, haven’t you? Maybe I’m wrong. In some way I hope I am. Maybe I’m overthinking this and reading too much into everything. But I can’t help it. And I don’t want to live in a world where I don’t at least try again. However… if you don’t want that, I’ll respect it too. I miss you. I miss us. I’m willing to wait for you. Love, - 017

To 017, I don’t know what to say to you. Or any of this, to be honest.  But I think that’s the truth, isn’t it? We never really had a proper goodbye. And maybe we should have. Maybe we needed too.  There’s a part of me that hates you. Resents you in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes. I hate the way we couldn’t fix it, the way we just let it fall apart. And then there’s another part of me that remembers how we used to be, how easy it was to be together. It’s the part that still thinks about you. You’re right; we never had a real goodbye, and maybe that’s part of the reason why we’re still stuck in this space between what we were and what we’ve become. And now, all I can wonder is𑁋

The sound of the door unlocking makes you scramble to put everything away. The pen in your hand falls onto the table, and you nearly rip the paper you were writing on as you ball the letter into your hands. 

“Y/N?” Jeonghan’s voice rings out throughout the room. “I brought some hot cocoa.” 

You bite your lip as you watch Jeonghan stroll across the room to place a mug on the nightstand next to your bed, the steam curling up into the thick air. After having most of the day deplete you of your energy, the two of you decided to head back to your rooms while the others were still outside.

Even then, despite the tiredness, you feel something akin to frustration boiling up within your body, because right now, he’s just so himself𑁋so casual about it all, like the years that separated you both don’t matter.

You stare at the cup for a second, then glance up at him. His face is soft, open, like nothing’s wrong, like you’re not two exes with history so messy it makes you want to scream.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your voice cracks, and it’s like all the hurt, all the confusion, all the love that’s been suffocating inside you explodes out in an instant.

Jeonghan freezes in place from your words, his body tensing as you rise from your seat, the crumpled letter still clutched in your hand. Your pulse races faster, heart hammering as everything you’ve held back comes rushing to the surface.

“And… and these damn letters, finding out that it was you all along. Finding out that this stranger I’ve almost entrusted my entire life into is you…” You’re almost yelling now, your fists balled at your sides, nails digging into your skin. 

When Jeonghan opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off immediately. 

“I’m trying so hard to hate you. To hate everything about you. But dammit, Jeonghan, I can’t!” The hot sting of tears builds in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “Every time you look at me like that, it’s like I forget why I’m supposed to... And I fall for it again. I fall for you again, and it-it’s killing me.”

Your body seems to lose its trust in the tears in your eyelids, and they spill over your walls, streaming down your cheeks like a raging river. Your breathing comes out shaky and uneven, your hands and legs trembling weakly, feeling like the floor below you may collapse at any second. You're not holding anything back anymore. Every word, every feeling, is coming out, and you can’t stop it now.

“I hate you,” You mutter quietly this time, and then take a deep breath, the faintest hint of a curl at your lips despite the tears staining your face. “But God dammit, I still love you.” 

Jeonghan remains silent, way longer than you think you can handle. Then when he takes the smallest step towards you, the lights in the room flicker sharply. And before either of you could do anything, the entire resort is plunged into darkness. 

You don’t know what to do other than just stand there, with the tears on your face drying against your skin, the silence feeling even heavier than before. Even Jeonghan himself doesn’t move𑁋you don’t hear any sounds of footsteps, or anything𑁋just his own breathing fighting to match with yours. 

With the power being out, the air around starts to feel more colder now, and you feel the temperature drop significantly within a few moments. The snow outside seems to be coming down stronger now. Of course this kind of situation had to happen right now. 

Then there’s a knock at the door and the sounds of footsteps shuffling. Jeonghan is moving.

“Hey, you guys okay in there?” You hear the familiar sound of Mingyu’s voice from behind the door. “Stupid snow storm knocked out the power in the entire resort. Do you guys need a hot pack? We have one left. And a candle for some light.”

Jeonghan and Mingyu exchange some other words you can hardly hear, before the door closes again. The light from the small candle illuminates Jeonghan’s face as he’s walking back towards you, his footsteps becoming louder and heavier as he approaches. 

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs after placing the candle down on the nightstand. “Here.” 

Before you can protest, something hot is placed in between your cold hands. The warmth of the hot pack spreads immediately through your fingers, but it doesn't quite reach the cold that’s buried deep within your chest and heart𑁋the cold that only Jeonghan could thaw.

You tighten a grip around the hot pack instinctively, drawing its heat into you. But there’s something else that seems to cover your own hands, aching for the same warmth. 

Jeonghan’s fingertips cling to the edges of the hot pack, his grip tightening even more around your hands. You can’t help but stiffen, unable to move away. The silence continues to stretch on in the space between the two of you. 

“It… It’s cold, and we shouldn’t stand here.” You feel him inch away, dragging you along with him. “Come on. Get on the bed.”

You don’t have it in you to refuse as Jeonghan gently guides you to the bed, your hands still clutching the hot pack, and the warmth from it seems to be the only thing holding you together right now. Once you sit down at the edge, Jeonghan doesn’t immediately place himself down right next to you, hesitating for a moment. Then the bed dips down with his weight, and the room itself seems to be holding its breath. 

Then you feel something drape around your shoulders𑁋the blanket from the bed𑁋and you watch as Jeonghan pulls it around both of you, the heat from his body seeping into yours, just like the warmth from the hot pack. 

None of you speak. You don’t need to. The candle on the nightstand flickers softly in the frigid air, casting shadows on the walls of the room. Even with him right beside you, the space still lingers. Every time you shift on your spot, your hand brushes against his, and it’s enough to send your heart into a frenzy of leaps. 

“Do… you remember our first winter together?” Jeonghan asks suddenly. You flit your eyes up to him, and he chuckles. “You stuffed like a dozen hot packs in my coat. It was so ridiculous, but you were so worried that I’d get cold.” His voice holds a warmth, a tenderness that almost breaks your heart.

You smile faintly at the memory, remembering that day very well. “Yeah, I do.” You shift slightly, squeezing the hot pack. “I like taking care of you.”

Jeonghan leans his body more towards you, ensuring the blanket is still wrapped around you both. His shoulder brushes against yours. You can’t seem to take your eyes off his face𑁋the softness in his features that are just so uniquely his. In your eyes, you see the man you love, the man you lost, the man who held such a soft heart in his chest. In his eyes, he only sees the person he once adored, the person he still loves, the one he failed to protect. 

“I really didn’t deserve you back then, did I?” He laughs dryly at that, and you feel his grip start to loosen slightly around yours. 

But you pull him back. 

“You did,” You say quietly, before lowering your voice even more. “You still do.” 

You see the way your words make him freeze, like he’s trying to search for the real truth in what you just said. His lips part for a moment, as if he was about to say something, but nothing comes out. 

“But back then, Jeonghan, you left, and you didn’t even give me the chance to fight for us. Do you… do you know how much that broke me?” 

Jeonghan’s head dips slightly, his brows furrowing as he looks down at his lap. The flickering candlelight dances across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw and the way his lips press together tightly. He lets out a sigh.

“I couldn’t even be the person for myself back then, let alone be the person you needed. So I… pushed myself away.” His eyes drift past you and out towards the window, where it was still dark outside but still snowing heavily. “I didn’t realise how much I needed you until after you left the country.” 

You shake your head, the frustration bubbling over again. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose what I can handle or what I can’t. I loved you, Jeonghan. I still love you. And it kills me that you didn’t trust me enough to let me help you.”

“I didn’t trust myself back then.”

“And… and now?”

“I got help.” He fixes his posture. “I trust myself enough that I know what I want for the rest of my life.” 

There’s an ache to your heart at that, an ache that nearly makes you give in right then and there𑁋but you can’t. Not yet, at least. 

You gaze at him, and for the first time in a long time, you really see him. Not the man who had hurt you, not the ex who had left you behind without a word, but the Jeonghan who used to hold you in his arms, the one who used to smile at you like you were everything.

“And the letters?” You question. “The letters we sent each other… Did you know that it was me?”

He shakes his head.

“No, I didn’t at first.” A warm smile starts to creep upon his face. “But then we just kept writing to each other, and I felt like I already knew you. Somewhere along the way, I started to hear you in the words. I thought more about it, but I didn’t want to believe it, even if I knew in some stupid fateful way that it was you. So… I just kept writing. Hoping that maybe, you’d feel the same way.”

There’s a low, broken laugh that escapes you, the taste of bittersweet candy hanging at the edge of your tongue. It’s ironic how the two of you could say so much on paper than to each other on paper. 

“I hardly thought about how easy it was to open up to a stranger like that. How I could just… pour everything out without that fear of being judged, write all the things I couldn’t say…” You admit softly as you stare at the ground, still clinging to the warmth of the hot pack. “It’s like... I couldn’t face the truth that I missed you so much. But somehow, in those letters, I could. It felt safer to be vulnerable with someone who wasn’t physically there, someone who didn’t know all the messy history between us. It felt easier to pretend you were just a stranger, even if you weren’t one in the end.” 

You take a deep breath, picking your eyes up from the floor to look at him again.

“But it was always you, wasn’t it?”

Jeonghan nods slowly, an imperceptible, dreamy look dawning upon his features even in the extremely dim lighting. 

“Yeah,” he says lightly. It’s like the final piece to the most complex puzzle in history. “It was always me. 017.”

“I mean, out of all the apartments in the building, your drunk ass just had to send one to me? I wasn’t even properly moved in yet.”

Jeonghan lets out a hearty breath at the memory, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you share a laugh about the absurdity that brought you both back together. A stupid, tiny damn letter.

“Well, you didn’t have to respond, you know,” he comments. 

“Okay, well, my bad that curiosity killed the cat,” You retort back teasingly, and the tension in the room starts to ease just a little bit. 

Jeonghan shifts beside you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours again, and this time, there's nothing in your head or heart telling you to pull away, to push him away. You can hardly tell if he’s trying to keep his hand warm with the hot pack, or with you instead. 

Then the room grows silent again, like all the love and hurt that spilled over had been tangled together, making it difficult to distinguish where one ends and the other begins. And amidst that silence and the whistling of the wind outside, the longing you’ve both buried for so long flickers back to life like the candle on the nightstand. 

“I missed you,” Jeonghan whispers, his voice breaking against the quiet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Jeonghan knows in his heart that I’m sorry doesn’t solve your problems, hell even the world’s problems. But right now, it’s all you need to hear, and your chest tightens when those words fall from his lips.

And he seriously doesn’t know how your face ended up so close to his in a matter of milliseconds, so close he could possibly simply move forward an inch and kiss you, so close he can feel the warmth of your breath on his lips, catch sight of the faintest smile to your𑁋

Your mouth falls on his before either of you can think, and it burns with the heat of everything you’ve been holding back for so long𑁋anger, love, regret, and yearning𑁋as if you’ve never been apart, and yet, it’s painfully clear how much time has passed. Your hands immediately fall limp on the hot pack as it lands right on your lap, forgotten between you both. 

Jeonghan’s hand comes up to gently cradle your neck, his cold thumb brushing against your skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. His lips move hesitantly yet tenderly against yours, as if he’s unsure whether he should let himself have this piece of you again. But the doubt clawing at his chest dissipates when he feels you pull him closer to you, kissing him back almost desperately. It’s like a promise, confession, and apology rolled into one. 

You let out a small, shaky breath against his lips, and it’s like oxygen for him𑁋the first real breath he’s taken in years. When he pulls away from you slightly, his warmth still remains.

Among the dimness in the room, Jeonghan innocently smiles at you. 

“What?” You ask breathlessly. 

Jeonghan just tilts his head, glancing down at your lips and back up to your eyes. You feel the hot pack disappear from your lap.

“Your lips are cold,” he remarks playfully, his voice carrying that all-too familiar tease that makes your heart flutter. 

But before you can protest further, the warmth of the hot pack suddenly makes contact with your mouth, causing your eyebrows to shoot up and a muffled gasp to escape from you. You swat at Jeonghan’s arm half-heartedly, but he holds it in place on your lips, your words coming out nothing but a mumble. The corners of his own lips quirk up into his signature, smug grin. 

“Stay still,” he teases, attempting to keep your face steady. “Your lips were turning blue. Don’t want you catching frostbite.” 

When you finally shove his hand away, the hot pack tumbles back into your lap, your cheeks flushing. Your faces are still mere inches from each other, and you gulp down the lump in your throat. 

You bring a hand up to cup his cheek. 

“I hate you,” You huff quietly, but the words don’t hold any weight, no bitterness between the letters.

“I know,” is all he replies with. 

Then you kiss him again, and the rest of the world fades away like the snap of a finger. There’s no stupid snowstorm, no power outage, no more walking around on eggshells, no tension in the room. 

“I love you,” You confess against his lips. It’s never felt so freeing to breathe right now. 

At that moment, Jeonghan swears to himself that he will never let you go again.

“I know.” His response causes you to disconnect away from him for a moment, and he just chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you too.”

A beam of red briefly flashes in your eyes. 

You squeeze your closed eyes shut even more, a raspy groan escaping your lips as you slowly but surely float back into consciousness. The morning sun trickles faintly through the curtains, causing you to stir in your place. However, nothing but warmth quickly envelops like a cocoon around you, and when you blink your eyes open, the first thing you see is Jeonghan’s face. 

His arm is draped lazily across your waist; his lips parted sleepily in slumber; his chest rising and falling peacefully. The golden morning light shining into the room makes his hair look brighter, makes him look brighter, like an angel that has descended through the clouds. You can’t help but simply admire the sight of him. 

Even as you attempt to wriggle from his grasp, his arm tightens instinctively around you, pulling you back into his chest. His lips move faintly, murmuring something incomprehensible in his sleep, his eyebrows knitting together in a fit of confusion. When his eyes slowly start to flutter open, you could only softly laugh. 

“You’re still here,” he mumbles groggily, voice still thick with sleep. 

Your heart aches in the best way at that. 

“Of course I am.” Where else would I be?

Jeonghan blinks a few more times, adjusting to the world around him. The second his vision clears and he’s greeted with nothing but your presence, a drowsy smile curves upon his lips, and he presses himself even closer to you. 

“You’re warm,” he mutters, breath tickling against the skin of your neck. A shiver runs up and down your spine. “Feels nice…”

You stay still for a minute or two, simply basking in the comfortable silence that fills the room. It’s a quiet kind of bliss, the kind you thought you might never feel again. The kind that comes after years of hurt, after so much uncertainty, yet here you are. With him. In his arms. Safe.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes shoot back open dazedly at Jeonghan’s voice. “Hm…?”

“Do you regret it?”

His words linger in the air, making you pause. The only thing you can hear is his breathing, and the pensive look that plagues his features, as if he’s waiting for an answer that might define everything𑁋everything that has led up to this exact moment. 

You adjust yourself to face him fully. “Regret what?”

“Letting me back in.” 

The room suddenly feels suspended in time, like the world has stopped spinning itself. A knot ties itself in your chest, and the weight of all the hurt, the healing wraps around the two of you. But as you take in the vulnerability in his eyes, the softness in the way he’s here, you realise the truth. Your love has always been his. 

“No,” You answer back quietly. “because I never let you go in the first place.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond immediately, and the silence stretches on. He exhales slowly, his hands running up your back gently, his eyes falling to a close once again. This is real, is all he can think about, all that he continues reassuring himself. You’re real. We’re real. 

You’re here.

His lips ghost over your skin as a faint smile tugs at his lips, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

“You know,” he begins. “I dreamt about this.”

“About what?”

“This.” His arm tightens around your waist as if to emphasise the point, his grin widening even more. “Waking up next to you. Holding you in my arms where you’ve always belonged.”

You could only roll your eyes, but your heart betrays you. You know that Jeonghan can feel it. “Don’t push it.”

“Too late, angel.”

His laughter sends ripples of love travelling up and down your body, his touch making sparks explode right at his fingertips. The past doesn’t hurt as much, not in this quiet space where you both exist, where the world outside could be burning, and it wouldn’t matter. What matters now are the tomorrows waiting for the two of you, the love that never quite left, and the healing you’ve begun. 

Jeonghan presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, right at the spot beneath your ear, and you let out a contented sigh. He continues to lazily trace his promises on the fabric of your sweater. 

“Dear 526,” he mumbles languidly against your skin. “It was always you.” 

It's such a simple thing to say, and yet it feels like everything you’ve both been avoiding and yearning for has been said in that one sentence. It was always you. There’s no longer doubt or the ghosts of your pasts coming back to haunt you, but rather with the quiet promise of a future that you never thought you'd have together again.

“To 017,” You start. “It was always you, too.” 

fic taglist ʚɞ @fragmentof-indifference @mrsjohnnysuh @woncheecks @marrblee5 @alonelystarfish

@filmnings @nshitae

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[saintzweig]

art donaldson x mean girl!gf hcs :3

୨ৎ personality for the character (reader) is based off jade west from victorious!

୨ৎ if there were three things people remembered you by, it would be your rbf, your brutal (sometimes unnecessary) honesty and your boyfriend who is your complete opposite, art donaldson.

୨ৎ you and art dating came as a surprise to everyone, he was an angel while you were... you've had your moments.

୨ৎ they all came to accept it sooner or later, seeing as how the two of you balanced each other out. with art around, the chances of your outbursts were lower and with you around, art learned how to stop being such a pushover.

୨ৎ art loved your transparency and honesty, the way he doesn't have to walk on eggshells around you or decipher whatever is going on in your brain because you express so clearly the emotions you feel.

୨ৎ other people may have their thoughts on you, gossip about who you are and all that but he knows that they're all surface level, he knows you better than anyone so he knows it comes from a good place.

୨ৎ you're overprotective of him and your close friends, you don't like it when other people cross boundaries and make you (and him) uncomfortable.

୨ৎ he's pretty much the only person who's well equipped to deal with your moods, knowing when to pull you away when things become too much and you're starting to get irritable from overstimulation. he knows how to calm you down, help you ground yourself.

୨ৎ on the rare occasions you blow up on him, he tries not to take it to the heart. he knows it's more the situation than him, you were blowing up at him and not about. but it still doesn't change the fact that it hurt, so he goes quiet and leaves you alone.

୨ৎ you tell him to fuck off and he will, but just in the other room. he knows you'll come around soon enough and make up, so he doesn't approach you unless you make the first move.

୨ৎ usually you find him wrapped up on the couch, with a tray of meal on the coffee table waiting for you. even when you were so unfair to him, he still wants to take care of you.

୨ৎ "it's alright, darling. you were just stressed, i know you didn't mean it"

୨ৎ aside from that, he finds it hot when you're mean to other people. especially when you're jealous :3 which is often, considering art is pretty famous on campus.

୨ৎ this man would stand behind you while you go off on a girl that tried to kiss him, giggling and blushing while holding your hand.

୨ৎ he also likes it when you end up using your mean-ness for good lol, someone's yelling at the pregnant cashier lady at the grocery? you're giving them the same energy. a professor is trying to humiliate someone in front of the entire class? they can kiss their job goodbye.

୨ৎ you and art balance each other so well, when he's too shy or too much of a pushover to disagree with whatever, you push him to do it anyways and remind him to prioritize himself. when he's doubtful of himself especially in his tennis career, you tell him that a man with his talents is allowed to be a little arrogant.

୨ৎ he's so malewife energy and he's well aware of that, i swear his type in women are assertive and feisty ones.

[adobe-outdesign]

Shiny Ralts line review?

(Grouping some of these together for efficiency's sake.)

Ralts, Kirlia, and Gardevoir: All three of these are pretty good, doing simple, consistent swaps; green to blue, red to orange, and adding a slight magenta tint to the white of the body. All of the colors are sort of adjacent to the original palette, but are still distinct enough that you'd never mistake these for the originals. And there's not much of a theme here color-wise, but the horns are meant to be vaguely representative of Gardevoir's heart, so the warm orange makes sense in that regard.

My only issue here is that Ralts seems to be slightly different shades of blue and orange than the rest of the line, and the body is way more magenta than the rest of the line. It might just be this specific render, but if it's not... uh, why?

Mega Gardevoir: Mega Gardevoir is nice and consistent, following the same color swaps as the rest of the line with the only exception being the lack of magenta tint on the body (which isn't really noticeable anyway). However, it ads a major twist by making the "dress" black, as opposed to regular mega Gardevoir where it's still white.

I'm not always big on shinies that randomly add a color to one part of the body because it can throw off the balance, but in this case, I think it works; Mega Gardevoir has very little color on it, so I understand wanting to do something to make the shiny more distinct. The black is a neutral that compliments the blue and orange, and it helps define the dress better than regular Mega Gardevoir does. I like this one a lot.

Gallade and Mega Gallade: Gallade follows the same pattern as the rest of the line, though it does bug me that it randomly uses a darker shade of blue for no real reason. It also has the addition of a third color to deal with, which is handled by swapping out blue for gray. I don't mind this—it's a nice neutral color—but I do think the gray is either too light or too dark, which causes it to vibrate against the blue pretty fiercely.

Mega Gallade is consistent with regular Gallade. No complaints here, though the contrast thing I mentioned with regular Gallade still applies here.

Overall: A very solid line of shinies that are both distinct from the originals and very consistent across the board. Mega Gardevoir's probably my favorite, but all of them are good.

[pomrania]

The problem with "what would you do with the Death Note" hypotheticals on here, that I've noticed, is that the answers are all so BORING. Like, 90% of them are either "I wouldn't use it because murder is wrong" or "I'd kill billionaires and CEOs"; and it doesn't actually matter how much of that is virtue posturing and how much of that is what people genuinely feel, because either way the result is the same in that it's not interesting.

So, I propose an alternative: the Sick Note.

It has the same "targeting" system as the Death Note, where you need to write down someone's name and know their face. It doesn't kill people, nor does it control their behaviour; you can specify the symptoms that they'll experience within the next 24 hours (by default it's "general fatigue and nausea, at a level where they can power through it but it won't be fun"), but it isn't infectious no matter how much it seems like it should be, and it doesn't cause permanent harm. You can give your target symptoms ranging from "making them WISH it had killed them" to "just enough to justify not going to something they didn't want to do anyways".

Since the Sick Note doesn't kill people, "repeats" are actually possible. You can't have someone continually under its influence; there's an "immunity period" of 24 hours after its most recent effects have ended on that person. If you want somebody completely out of commission while you're using the Sick Note, you have to be strategic, and you have to be creative.

All that being said: if you had the Sick Note, how would you use it?

For me, my first targets would be the neighbours who regularly have very loud arguments, and I'd give both of them the hack-out-your-lungs can't-talk-because-your-throat-hurts-too-much coughs. Can't scream at each other when you can't speak above a whisper, after all. I don't want them DEAD, I just want them to stop inflicting their dysfunctional relationship upon everyone within earshot. (I also have ideas for how I'd deal with the type of people you'd normally consider for the Death Note, but in the interests of sponsoring creativity, I'm not going to put them here; let's hear some of YOUR ideas first.)

[percyweasleyapologist]

yall i just had a random fic idea

okay it's kinda angsty so my bad

It's the chamber of secrets year- so 6th year for percy i think? and we all know that Penny canonically gets petrified? but what if she actually died? like what if instead of everything else happening after- they find her body quick enough but instead of her being petrified, she's dead.

Anyways, her and Percy could be best friends or dating, (both ways work, i kinda prefer best friends because i feel like it makes this worse??). But he's prefect so he doesn't even find out for a bit and then when he does he then has to immediately go back and deal with anll of gryffindor and his brothers. And he just had to act like he's fine.

And so we see him slowly breaking down but pretending to be fine, if you wanna incorporate perciver or some other similar ship you could have that person realizing something's wrong and he just starts sobbing.

And then i just imagined one scene where it's either at her funeral or they're taking her body away or something and he has to be dragged away screaming bc he won't leave her and he's in denial. And everyone thought he was fine but suddenly he's crashing out in front of everyone.

Before then- he's kind of a shell but no one notices. And they just think he's heartless and stuff because he's not outwardly showing his emotions.

There could also be a scene where someone (probably his mum idk) is berating him for not comforting his siblings more.

uhhh yeah, that's kinda it lol. it's not a fullly formed idea but i thought someone may like it?

oh also i though of it while listening to "The Subway" by chappell roan and i feel like that is the kind of theme or vibe i envision for it- especially the "She's got, she's got a way She's got a way, she's got a way"

idk

tagging some people who may like this?: @birdiebirdjay @guess1mjustheren0w @elisedonut @sarkylittlemonster @aeoneskova

@armadilloradio @winn-wynn

[quibbs126]

So because for whatever reason, TFA Sentinel has been incredibly prevalent in my mind today, I decided I might as well draw him

The first big issue was drawing that goddamn face. The big chin caused problems for me because it changes how I need to draw the face. So he didn’t really end up looking great on my first try (top left)

But by the second drawing I found a way, one that stuck throughout the rest of the drawing as I had the sketch on hand to look at. This is how I had it for that last one

But yeah, scheming Sentinel probably ended up turning out the best in my opinion

I still need to work on his body proportions though, the bottom left especially is pretty wonky. But maybe with some more practice I’ll get it down more

It’s the shovel things on his shoulder that get me the most, I feel like I make them too small but also they cover too much area at the same time

The bottom left I drew because one of my references made me realize he had some absolutely huge hands

Due to proportion wonkiness, I don’t think I made them big enough to convey the actual point, but at least there’s the ref to get what I’m saying

The bottom right meanwhile I drew mostly because I wanted to draw him with big shook eyes. Then I made it a reference to when I tried to draw TFA Optimus by making him shocked by TFO Sentinel

But yeah, I think it turned out relatively well, and I wouldn’t mind drawing him more. Should probably try drawing him with Optimus in all honesty, and maybe Elita/Blackarachnia

I really don’t know why he’s a favorite of mine, but he is. He’s a little bastard and I like seeing him suffer

Maybe it was the fanfic, maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know but he’s mine now

But I’m also really sad that he’ll never get the chance to have a proper character arc. I know I’ve spoken about it before, but I’m sad about it again. Granted, the show might never have given him one (and tbh I kind of lean more on the idea that he wouldn’t) but that’s one of the beauties of cancelled seasons, you can imagine anything was going to happen if it was plausible enough

I think he needs to properly suffer before getting a proper arc though. Or I guess have that be what drives him to change his ways. Not really sure what the suffering would be though, since I don’t think getting punished for his shadiness as acting Magnus would do that, it’d be more comeuppance than anything

I’m thinking it should deal with his organic phobia, like have him be made a techno-organic or something, if only temporarily. But even if temporary, he has to properly suffer like that for a while, maybe gaining more of an understanding of what Blackarachnia’s gone through and/or more of an understanding of organics

Honestly considering Blackarachnia was going to be the villain of Season 4, it probably wouldn’t be that implausible, I just don’t know if they would. And it’ll never happen anyways, so who cares?

Ah well, I suppose. That’s what fanfiction is for. So I need a multi chapter fanfic about a Sentinel redemption arc. Maybe it could be me one day, but I don’t have the commitment for that right now, just like every other idea I had

Anyways, I’m getting carried away now. Sentinel is neat and I don’t care if people hate him, he’s special to me, even if I don’t know why

[craziestfangirl98]

I would first like to start with, I get why THK team decided to refrain from releasing the episode last week and having to take an extra week's break now because if they would have done that, I wouldn't be able to function.

This episode was insane. But so so meaningful. I am enjoying this show more and more the deeper it goes and I'm really excited to see where it goes from here.

Since the beginning of the series I've been hoping that we'd see more of Fadel and Bison's interactions and I finally got it now. Can't say how happy it made me. Even with how it hurt, it felt so fulfilling to see them as brothers.

The guilt and heart break in Bison's eyes while telling Fadel the truth about bringing them into his life and 'hiring' Style made me see the side of Bison that is still young and naive but cares for his brother whole heartedly. I also love that although Fadel didn't forgive Bison and told him he'd 'deal' with him later about his betrayal, he was still there with his brother for the most part. Scared and concerned and worried about the heart break that he would experience. Even on his birthday, Fadel made sure to take care of Bison and got him a cake and a candle, which would mean a lot considering they were both adopted into this business and became brothers.

I think I deserve points for thinking it is mother who ends up hurting Bison considering Keen did bring out a gun but was beaten to the punch because Bison's impulsive ass couldn't stop himself from intervening into the situation.

Throughout the entire episode I was waiting with bated breath for the ball to drop and when it finally did in the hospital room and the bathroom for KantBison and FadelStyle respectively I had to physically let go a shudder terrified of what is to come.

I like how most of the fandom read Fadel and Bison accurately in terms of Fadel at least giving Style another chance and allowing to hear him out while Bison just blew his gasket so to speak.

I love that Style's reaction to it all was just to take it in stride and make Fadel's life more chaotic not because he hates him but because he loves him and wants to prove that 'i might have been coerced into loving you but I know nothing but loving you now and will do so forever.' I find it equal times hilarious and adorable. Something about Style continuously choosing Fadel makes me believe that the ex might have left and deceived him.

I knew when I watched the trailers and we were revealed that there would be a Kant jumping off the boat scene while he has a phobia of the water, that it would hit me hard. I was not prepared for that to happen today. Especially not the way it did. I had no doubts about Kant loving Bison but to see his heartbreak and grief about the reality of their relationship, his palpable fear towards Bison and his guilt towards ratting them out to the cops is all so clear in his face but so is the resignation and determination that he has to do this in order to convince to Bison and First is such a phenomenal actor for it all.

I do believe, in the heart of my hearts, Bison jumped straight after Kant to rescue him. I don't think he thought Kant cared enough to jump and would jump straight after. Because I don't think they will ever get to establishing trust otherwise.

Next week both the couples are going to be surviving alone, FadelStyle trying to find KantBison while they are dealing with the aftermath and the consequences of today. I don't know how I'm going to be waiting and going back to work. Sigh... Let's see.

Anyway, let me know what you all are thinking about this episode. Week by week it feels like it is going to be a tragedy instead of a comedy all though I doubt it. The angst is angsting and it hurtssssss.

[silvercap]

For the H/C prompts, I feel like 23 is extremely Leon coded. Dealer’s choice on who he is almost certainly lying to. :3 💜

For sure!

23. "I'm okay. You don't need to worry about me," Leon says for the second time, and he means it. The jungle air clings to his skin as Chris's disbelieving stare eats through his bones, leaving him itchy and clammy in the humid heat. "See? All my limbs intact, good as new. It's just a sprain and a couple little papercuts."

He avoids bringing attention to the series of oozing wounds shredding his arm, the bandages bright red beneath where he's clutching subtly at the worst of them. He knows Chris's attention is already on them, the man's face concerned where he stands above Leon beside the mossy log that's currently serving as a bench.

"You lost a lot of blood. I really don't think we should keep going," he stresses, face pinched and damp with sweat. "I know you've been through worse, but that thing was... clearly sick, and I'm not sure if blood loss is even the worst of it."

"It's okay, really." The itch under Leon's skin is whispering to him, a faint buzz that he chalks up to the nearly-impermeable veil of bugs echoing through the trees around them. It's true that the BOW unsettled him---its glassy eyes were far too human, the stench of its fetid breath washing over him in nauseating waves even in memory. Its fur had gleamed with an oily sheen, claws torn and pitted. Like the very incarnation of disease itself, it had slunk towards them with heaving ribs under too-thin skin, dead and infected with god knows what.

Truth be told, Leon's trying not to think about it. His immune system is a lot stronger than a lot of other people's, even in the anti-bioterrorism field, but that thing... he suppresses a shudder. The chill crawling over his skin and prickling up goosebumps makes it difficult to hide, but he suspects that Chris will only get more worried and make him stay here overnight if he sees. Stubborn, caring Redfield. They're only a few miles from the edge of the rainforest, and Leon would rather not have to sleep in a jungle again for the rest of his life, thank you very much. He has enough memories to contend with, and besides---the place gives him the creeps.

Krauser's shadow seems to flit past in the dying sunlight, sealing the deal. They'll need to get him out of here in order to find a cure for whatever is twitching and multiplying in his bloodstream anyways, he reasons. Not that there is anything growing---it's all purely hypothetical. Leon clears his throat, locking his muscles and pushing himself upright with the fallen log. His strength holds remarkably well, not even wavering despite the weakness that floods over him as his remaining bloods leaves his head. "See? I can handle it. It's not far."

Chris seems to hesitate, then sighs. "I hope you're right."

He's not, Leon knows, especially when he doesn't remember picking up his pack, the undergrowth suddenly brushing against his legs as he walks feeling thicker than molasses. The gap in time scares him, but---maybe he just got distracted for a second. It happens to people all the time when they're tired, right?

Leon exhales shakily, blurring vision focused on Chris's broad back as he slashes through the bush with the machete they'd brought. He seems rather far away. Leon should pick up the pace. He tries to quicken his steps---only for his head to go light with helium, the world tipping to the side in an instant.

As the ground rushes up towards him, Leon thinks that maybe... just maybe, he isn't quite as okay as he'd initially thought.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

every magic school has the Cringefail Newbie and the Self-Proclaimed Prodigy that adopted him <3

so I finally managed a drawing of Elbryn I'm actually happy with! idk if I'll ever write a proper fic involving him but I do have many Thoughts™ about the lil guy so I'll just dump them here under the cut

so after his rather embarrassing magical mishap in Helgen (which he's pretty sure didn't summon the dragon? but he isn't ruling it out as a possibility) he basically swears off using spells entirely and opts for a war axe

somehow manages to not die despite his lack of skill, figures out he's the Dragonborn yadda-yadda, we've all played the quests.

actually counts the Seven-Thousand-Steps to High-Hrothgar like the nerd he is. It was significantly more than seven thousand and his legs hurt so badly.

after making it to High-Hrothgar the Greybeards basically told Elbryn that he would need to become stronger before he could battle dragons as equals and master his Thu'um. Unfortunately they didn't provide much guidance on exactly how he should go about that, only telling him "that path would be made clear" and leaving the rest up to him.

Decides to go back to Whiterun and join the Companions. He's very intimidated by them, but they're probably the best people he could hope to learn from if he wants to master his skills with a blade.

Notably he goes to great lengths to hide his status as the Dragonborn from basically everyone. He feels as though the people of Skyrim are disheartened enough with the return of the Dragons, and if they knew this "legendary dragon-slayer" was really just some scrawny Breton ex-mage it would only dishearten them further, so he feels like it's better to let everyone assume the Dragonborn is some strong and fearsome Nord warrior or something of that nature. At least until he feels as though he can live up to the title.

He also hides his past as a mage from them because he gets the sense that the Companions would like, instantly stop respecting him if they knew. He does feel very bad about keeping so many secrets from them though, seeing as they all talk a big game about how they "don't deal in secrets like thieves and mages do"

Anyway things with the Companions go surprisingly well! His fighting skills improve significantly and he actually starts to form an unlikely friendship with Farkas. a bit of an "opposites attract" type thing. Farkas sees that Elbryn has a lot of potential but lacks confidence, so he sorta decided to take him under his wing. (Vilkas is a bit less fond of Elbryn though. not that he really dislikes him or anything, but he catches on that he's hiding something and doesn't quite trust it)

anyway if you know how the Companions questline goes you know that they take you into the Underforge with the intention of turning you into a werewolf alarmingly fast. Elbryn was still willing to work with them upon learning they were werewolves, but becoming one himself? no no no no nope. He basically tells them "yeah uhh I'll need to think about it", goes to his room, packs his stuff and sneaks off that very same night without saying a word to anyone. In hindsight he feels bad about that. Kinda wishes he had left Farkas a note or something, but he was scared and in a hurry. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now...

now I know they weren't going to force him to become a werewolf or anything, but Elbryn didn't know that. I mean they said they weren't going to force him but they also said the Companions don't deal in secrets, yet here they are doing this under Kodlak's nose in the dead of night! he has no idea what to think or expect or who he could even talk to and these guys have teeth. so he just runs.

north specifically. Not for any particular reason, he just had to pick a direction and it happened to be north. Wanders around for a bit, unsure of were to go now that his only source of martial training fell through.

Eventually comes across Frostflow Lighthouse (REAL downer of a dungeon that one) Now the thing about Frostflow is that near the end you drop down a cliff, and the only way back out is through the final boss. the giant Chaurus Reaper. So he's cornered down there, alone, with a foe he is woefully unprepared to fight. (In game it kept two-shotting me lmao, but I decided to make a story thing out of it!)

So in desperation he decides to use his magic. Not a lot mind you, maybe just to heal himself or create a flash to stun it so he could get away, but whatever it was he intended to do with it hardly matters, because that's not what ended up happening.

See, as it turns out, when you're naturally gifted with high amounts of magic, trying to suppress it for long periods of time like what Elbryn did basically turns you into a magic bomb. So the moment he tried to tap into his magika reserves, it was like a dam burst open. Everything in the cavern was engulfed in a storm of pure untamed magical energy, swirling and burning and tearing until nothing was left of the Chaurus but some strips of charred flesh and chitin

Elbryn immediately passes out, wakes up an indeterminate amount of time later dazed and utterly horrified at the carnage he left behind. I mean sure, it worked out in his favor this time, he was surrounded by foes and going scorched earth was really the only option, but if someone else had been with him? if something like that were to happen when he was with a friend or trying to protect or rescue someone... He looks back at the charred bits of Chaurus strewn about.

yeah, just suppressing his magic ain't gonna cut it, he needs to learn how to control it or else. There's a college in Winterhold right? that's where he has to go then. So he sets out east over the ice fields and hopes he can make it there before getting hopelessly lost and dying.

(ok I had a lot more to say but this was getting LONG I'll have to make another post later lol. sorry, Elbryn decided he wanted to have a story so I guess there's a story now)